Wednesday Night at the Movies

I had last night off, and I’ve been itchin’ to watch some of these DVDs that I purchased recently—so I treated myself to a midnight double feature of old-time radio-related films. First off the bat, 1942’s Here We Go Again—the follow-up to the successful feature Look Who’s Laughing (1941) which memorably teamed Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy and Fibber McGee & Molly on screen.

Look Who’s Laughing starts out with Edgar & Charlie (performing a reprisal of their famous vaudeville act, “The Operation,” in front of a radio audience) so it seems only fitting that Here We Go Again begin with the McGees. Fibber & Molly have planned a big shindig to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary, but their pals in Wistful Vista have given them the big brush-off, electing to vacation at a swanky lakeside resort instead. So the McGees decide to head that way themselves (although they can’t afford the tariff to stay there) and upon their arrival, encounter Otis Cadwalader (Gale Gordon, in his film debut)—Molly’s old beau and Fibber’s bete noire. Otis cons Fibber into getting Edgar (who’s also vacationing nearby, in search of a silk-producing moth) to invest in a formula for “synthetic gasoline”; it turns out to be a bust, but lepidopterist Bergen has discovered a use for it for his moths, and everything comes out in the wash by film’s end.

Here We Go Again doesn’t quite have the same punch as its predecessor, but it’s still grand entertainment for any OTR fan. The movie does boast of a boost in star-wattage: Ray Noble, Bergen’s orchestra leader and comic foil, and dummy Mortimer Snerd make appearances, and joining Hal Peary’s Throckmorton Gildersleeve and Isabel Randolph’s Abigail Uppington are Gordon and Bill Thompson as super-milquetoast Wallace Wimple (“Wimp” is the brains behind the formula). Also in the cast of OTR stars is Ginny Simms, a singer-actress who achieved fame as vocalist for Kay Kyser’s orchestra, and was also featured on The Bob Burns Show and her own self-titled variety show on radio from 1942-47. Ginny plays Gildy’s sister Jean and is Bergen’s romantic interest in this movie (I guess that whole Lucille Ball thing didn’t work out). Two other actors from Look Who’s Laughing, Sterling Holloway and George Cleveland, also have small roles in this film as well.

Here We Go Again contains some memorable set-pieces: Gildy and Fibber trade insults over a game of pool, Edgar and Charlie play Indian, and Molly cuts a rug with Cadwalader (both Marian Jordan and Gale Gordon do some pretty impressive hoofing in this one). Even Charlie McCarthy has a song-and-dance number—yes, you read that right, dance. Director Allan Dawn got the idea to allow both Charlie and Mortimer to be a little more mobile thanks to some doubling by midget actors. (This idea to use little people would later resurface in a memorable television episode of The Jack Benny Program; Jack pays Edgar and Francis Bergen a visit and is stunned to see both dummies moving about like real people.) The movie also contains a novel chase sequence at the end that eschews the traditionally tired use of cars and substitutes horse-and-buggies instead (you know how it is with those "A" cards).

Once again, as in Look Who’s Laughing, the comedic strengths in this film emanate from the witty dialogue provided for the stars: Bergen scribe Royal Foster joins Zeno Klinker and Dorothy Kingsley in supplying Edgar and his dummies’ material, and Don Quinn performs the same favor for the McGees. Allan Dwan returns to helm this second film as well; Dwan was a veteran director whose output includes Suez (1938), Frontier Marshal (1939), and Sands of Iwo Jima (1949). All in all, Here We Go Again is a breezy, pleasant romp and a must-see for any old-time radio fan.

“Oh…is that you, Myrt?”

This weekend, I decided to watch another one of the DVDs that I purchased recently from Finders Keepers—the 1941 RKO feature film comedy Look Who’s Laughing, starring Edgar Bergen with Charlie McCarthy, and Jim and Marian Jordan as Fibber McGee & Molly. I’d seen the film previously—it shows up frequently on Turner Classic Movies (TCM), though I think the time I watched it was when Turner Network Television (TNT) still showed classic movies (no, I’m not dating myself, am I)—and after treating myself to an encore I found it to be just as delightful as ever.

In fact, let me go a bit further and praise this movie as one of the best radio-based films ever made. It’s difficult to reach a consensus on just what makes an OTR-themed movie great or successful—a good many folks often have harsh words for films of this type, falling back on the “it isn’t as good/it can’t capture the essence of the radio show” gripe. Personally, I tend to be a little lenient in this area, I think probably because of the sheer novelty and because I’m also a sucker for a well-made B-film. For example, most of the Lum & Abner feature films fall woefully short of what critics would call great or even good movies—but I don’t mind; they’re short, sweet, and endlessly entertaining.

The plot of Look Who’s Laughing—well, I’m not going to lie to you: it’s painfully thin. Edgar & Charlie are forced to land Bergen’s plane in Wistful Vista during a vacation trip, and naturally meet the town’s best-known residents, Fibber & Molly McGee. The Fibster, as president of the Chamber of Commerce, has been out beating the bushes to get an aircraft manufacturer to build a factory in town; Edgar is very good friends with same and so he agrees to help the community out. There are, of course, numerous complications along the way (the movie is 78 minutes, they gotta do something)—but finally the deal is struck and everything comes out in the wash.

In addition to the movie’s four major players, there are also appearances by other old-time radio stars: Lucille Ball (though she’s seven years away from her hit sitcom My Favorite Husband) has a plum role as Julie, Edgar’s secretary and love interest, and Harold Peary is along for the ride as famed Fibber nemesis Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve. (Ball and Perry were later re-teamed in a 1942 musical-comedy, Seven Days’ Leave, in which Hal once again played Gildy, and Lucy is a girl that star Victor Mature has to marry in order to collect an inheritance—shades of the Buster Keaton classic Seven Chances!)

This movie also includes appearances from many of the actors that populated Fibber and Molly’s burg: Isabel Randolph, Harlow Wilcox, Bill Thompson and Arthur Q. Bryan. Of these four, only Randolph reprises a radio role as one of the residents of Wistful Vista, society dowager Abigail Uppington; both Thompson and Bryan (who didn’t start playing the town’s medico, Doc Gamble, until 1943) have uncredited bits (as a veteran and a mayor’s aide, respectfully) and Harlow is Mr. Collins, the bank president (no Glocoat pushing here!) Thompson would appear in 1942’s sequel Here We Go Again as Wallace Wimple (“Hello, folks…”). Other great character actors and old-time radio personalities include Neil (Batman) Hamilton, Charles Halton, Jed Prouty, George Cleveland, Sara Berner, Charles Lane and Sterling Holloway (as a soda jerk).

Though the plot of Look Who’s Laughing isn’t particularly compelling, the comedy material provided for Edgar, Charlie and the McGees is first-rate—Zeno Klinker and Dorothy Kingsley, two scribes from Bergen’s radio show, keep him and his dummy supplied with plenty of laugh-getting quips, while Fibber & Molly receive assistance from creator-writer Don Quinn and Leonard L. Levinson (Levinson would later assume the post of head writer for Hal Peary’s spin-off The Great Gildersleeve). There are a couple of prized physical comedy sequences here as well; one involves an out-of-control dishwasher and the other a wild airplane that’s so well-done I didn’t even mind that it involves obvious stuntmen, miniatures and process-screen work.

Look Who’s Laughing was the second feature film showcasing the Jordans as the famous radio couple (their debut was 1937’s This Way Please, which also features solo work by Mrs. Jack Benny, Mary Livingstone) and the notion of teaming them with Edgar & Charlie was a stroke of genius. The film did well at the box-office, prompting the four stars to re-team for Here We Go Again. An attempt at future Fibber & Molly vehicles fizzled out with 1944’s Heavenly Days, a bouncy wartime comedy-musical that has its moments, but can’t hold a candle to its earlier celluloid siblings. I'd heartily recommend Look Who's Laughing, though, and I would most enthusiastically recommend purchasing it from Finders Keepers; their print is simply superb.

Old Home Week in Summerfield

One of the delights of Radio Spirits’ Radio’s Greatest Sitcoms collection is a Great Gildersleeve CD containing two essential programs: the premiere episode, when Gildy arrives in Summerfield, and a show in which Gildy’s former Wistful Vista neighbors, Fibber & Molly McGee, pay a visit. I listened to both of these earlier this morning and was completely and thoroughly entertained.

The inaugural Gildersleeve broadcast of August 31, 1941 uses the same script as the May 14, 1941 audition (for Johnson’s Wax), albeit with a few changes and deletions. Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve (Harold Peary), owner and operator of the Gildersleeve Girdle Works (“If you want the best of corsets, of course it’s Gildersleeve”), leaves his Wistful Vista home and travels to nearby Summerfield in order to take charge of the Forrester estate—his charges being niece Marjorie (Lurene Tuttle) and nephew Leroy (Walter Tetley). On the train, he encounters the individual who soon become his rival and nemesis, Judge Horace Hooker:

GILDY: Ah…pretty crowded in this diner…by George, I’m so hungry I could eat the…waiter!
WAITER: Yes, sir?
GILDY: Is it all right if I sit at this table?
WAITER: Yes, sir…sit right down, sir…
GILDY: If this gentleman doesn’t mind reading his paper on his own side…I said, if this gentleman doesn’t mind reading his paper on his own side…
WAITER: Excuse me, sir…does you mind?
HOOKER: Yes, I do! I’m particular whom I eat with…
GILDY: (Gildy laugh) You are, eh? Well, I’m not—I’m hungry…waiter, bring me a steak—a nice, juicy double tenderloin rare…
HOOKER: Waiter, where’s my milquetoast? I ordered it fifteen minutes ago…
WAITER: I’m sorry, sir, but milquetoast takes time, you know…
GILDY: …and waiter, I want a big, heaping plate of French fries…
WAITER: Yes, French fries…
GILDY: …and a cup of strong coffee, with lots of cream…
WAITER: I’ll get it right away, sir…
HOOKER: …and bring me my milquetoast—made with gluten bread, remember…
GILDY: Oomph…bread…that reminds me…some hot biscuits, and a little pot of jam…
HOOKER: Gluten bread, toasted…and a cup of hot water…
GILDY: …and an apple pie a la mode, with cheese…
HOOKER: I can’t stand this! Listening to you is giving me heartburn!
GILDY: (Gildy laugh) It is, huh? Oh, waiter! Don’t forget the steak sauce…piccalilli…and relish…
HOOKER: Bring me a glass of bicarbonate of soda, quick!

(snip)

HOOKER: I’ll thank you to mind your own business!
GILDY: What’s the big idea of jumping down my throat???
HOOKER: What do you expect, addressing a perfect stranger?
GILDY (seething): You’re far from perfect, stranger…and from now on, I’m going to make a career out of ignoring you…

The insults soon begin to fly: Hooker labels Gildy a “big buffalo” and “overstuffed ox” while the Great Man counters with calling the jurist a “dyspeptic little dodo” and “dried-up little crabapple.” Later, Gildy is forced to nestle his ample frame in an upper berth (“The last time I was in an upper berth was…let me see…fifty pounds ago.”), with Hooker as his downstairs neighbor. The judge’s snoring keeps Gildy wide awake, and he quickly takes care of the cacophony by drenching him with a glass of ice water. Having arrived in Summerfield, Gildy gets reacquainted with Leroy and Marjorie—who’s kept Gildersleeve’s line of work a secret from her brother, or so she thinks. Leroy has gotten hold of a company letterhead, only he’s misread it as “The Gildersleeve Girder Works”:

LEROY: Hey, Unk...will you take me back to Wistful Vista with ya and let me work in your factory?
GILDY: Uh…what? Well, I didn’t think you’d be interested in that sort of thing…
MARJORIE: Now, Leroy…
LEROY: Gee I am, Uncle Mort—that must be some layout…I’ll bet you make the supports for a lot of big projects there…
GILDY: Uh…eh…oh…we don’t turn out anything much like…uh…we sort of confine ourselves to…uh…foundations…heh…yes…
LEROY: Say…I’d like to go along sometime when you install those foundations…

Marjorie explains to her uncle about Leroy’s mix-up, and during breakfast he regales his relations and their attorney (Frank Nelson) of the experience he had with the gentleman on the train. Naturally, when it’s time to appear in the court—who should preside over the legal proceedings but Judge Hooker? Gildy makes a valiant attempt to get in good with his new-found enemy but fails miserably (Leroy isn’t much help, either); Hooker will grant the petition only if Gildersleeve reports to him every week, obtains an okay for every nickel spent, and posts a bond of $50,000 cash.

Gildy pleads with Hooker to lower the bond, but the judge remains firm. So Gildy hits upon the idea of calling home and having the president of the Wistful Vista Chamber of Commerce vouch for his impeccable character—said president being none other than Fibber McGee of 79 Wistful Vista. After a pleasant chat with Fibber, Hooker rescinds the bond order and demands that Gildersleeve post a bond of $100,000. Sputtering, Gildy grabs the phone receiver and utters his famous Fibber McGee & Molly catchphrase, “You’re a harrrrrrrd man, McGee…” It’s a classic episode (and hysterical to boot), giving the new program a proper send-off. My only quibble is that quality control allowed this one to be recorded off-speed like the Father Knows Best entries in the collection.

Though Hal Peary made several appearances on Fibber McGee & Molly after obtaining his spin-off, the January 10, 1943 broadcast of The Great Gildersleeve is the only episode (according to my research) that allows Fibber & Molly to return the favor. I had never heard the program before, and it was a sheer hot-fudge sundae delight. In preparing for the Jordan’s visit, Gildy issues instructions to the family:

GILDY: When McGee arrives this afternoon, there are two things I want you to be careful not to do…in the first place, I don’t want you to make any reference to Fibber’s size…
LEROY: What about it?
GILDY: Well, he’s a little runt, and like all little runts he’s sort of sensitive about it…that’s why he’s so pugnacious…
MARJORIE; Oh, I wouldn’t say anything like that, Uncle Mort…
GILDY: Well, I know you wouldn’t, my dear…but I’m not so sure about Leroy…
LEROY: Wh…what did I say? Did I say anything about him being a runt? You’re the one who brought it up…
GILDY: Just don’t, that’s all…actually, he’s not so small, anyway…it’s just that he’s not as big as he thinks he is…he has the mind of a small man, that’s all…always carrying a chip on his shoulder…
MARJORIE: Oh, we’ll be careful, Uncle Mort…
GILDY: …and another thing—and this applies to both of you…I’d rather you didn’t say anything about my engagement to Mrs. Ransom…
MARJORIE: Oh, but the McGees are your friends, Uncle Mort…they’ll be offended…
GILDY: We’re not announcing the engagement just yet, my dear…we’re, uh, keeping it a secret…
LEROY: Mrs. Ransom isn’t…I heard her talkin’ to Mrs. Pettibone down at the grocery…
GILDY: We’re not announcing it to McGee and that’s final, Leroy…’cause if I know McGee, he’ll start making cracks…and if he makes any cracks about Leila, I’ll punch him in the nose…and if I do that, Molly will be upset, and if she’s upset, it’ll spoil the whole weekend—and that’s what you get for inviting McGee anyway…

Gildersleeve picks up his old friends at the train station, and brings them home his stately manor home—and the more things change, the more they remain the same:

GILDY: Well, this is it, folks…it’s no palace, but it’s home to me…what do you think of it, Molly?
MOLLY: Oh, it’s a lovely place, Mr. Gildersleeve…
FIBBER: Yeah, nice hunk of property you got here, Gildy…
GILDY: A hundred foot front by a hundred seventy-five feet…
FIBBER: That oughta give you room to spread out…and I can see that you have…
GILDY (angrily): What was that, little chum?
MOLLY (scolding): McGee…watch it…
FIBBER: Hey, Throcky—who lives next door there?
GILDY: Next door? Oh, some woman…I forget her name…
MARJORIE: Mrs. Ransom…
GILDY: R-Ran…oh yes, is that it?
MARJORIE: Yes, she’s a widow…
GILDY: Oh…so…
FIBBER: A widow woman, eh? Give you much trouble?
GILDY: Uh, no…no…
MARJORIE: As a matter of fact…
GILDY (interrupting): Marjorie! Heh…suppose you run in and ask Leroy to come out and help with the bags…that’s a good girl…
MOLLY: You know, I think nice neighbors make all the difference in the world…
FIBBER: So do bad ones…we had one once who borrowed our lawnmower and kept it so long he finally had to leave town…then he took the lawnmower with him…

And this exchange is literally worth the price of admission:

GILDY: Let me take your coat, Mrs. McGee…
MOLLY: Oh, thank you…
FIBBER: Where will I put mine, Throcky?
GILDY: Uh, I’ll take it…just hang it up here in the hall closet…
(SFX: door opens)
MOLLY: McGee…
FIBBER: What, Molly?
MOLLY: You see that closet? That’s what I mean…
FIBBER: Well, sure—anyone can keep a closet clean if they don’t use it…

Fibber has forgotten to bring a toothbrush, so he ventures into town to order to purchase one from Summerfield’s drugstore—Richard Quince Peavey (Richard LeGrand), proprietor and pharmacist. (LeGrand was also a Fibber McGee & Molly regular, usually heard in the role of Ole, the Elks Club janitor.):

FIBBER: We’re spending the weekend with a fellow up the street here and I’d like to get a little something for him as a gift…
PEAVEY: Oh…what type of gentleman is he?
FIBBER; Oh, he’s a big fat blowhard…doesn’t do much of anything but eat, sleep and brag…
PEAVEY: I’ve got something here that I think, uh, Mr. Gildersleeve would like…
FIBBER: Oh! You know him…
PEAVEY: Oh yes, he’s in here almost every day…
FIBBER: Oh…
PEAVEY: …and I think if you really want to surprise him, a nice package of bubble bath would do the trick…
FIBBER: Gildersleeve in a bubble bath? (laughing) Boy, he’d look like a blimp comin’ out of a cloud…
PEAVEY: Well, of course it…wouldn’t make much of a wedding gift, if that’s what you have in mind…
FIBBER: Wedding gift? For Gildersleeve?
PEAVEY: Why, haven’t you heard? He’s engaged to marry his next-door neighbor, Mrs. Ransom…
FIBBER: Throcky? Engaged?
PEAVEY: Yes…
FIBBER: Ah, tell me more, tell me more…

Peavey sings like a canary, and Fibber behaves like the cat that swallowed it, returning to Gildy’s and teasing his “chum” about the engagement. For the rest of the McGees’ stay, even Gildersleeve’s impromptu get-together to allow his friends to meet Leila (Shirley Mitchell) fails to dissuade Fibber from his constant needling and wisecracks.

In an essay on The Great Gildersleeve—an underrated situation comedy that has acquired a devoted following among old-time radio fans today—OTR historian Elizabeth McLeod accurately points out how the spin-off eventually evolved into a completely different comedy show; a series with a strong emphasis on gentle, character-driven comedy as opposed to Fibber McGee & Molly’s vaudeville-influenced verbal slapstick. So I was very pleased at how well Fibber & Molly are integrated into the Gildersleeve proceedings; the fine script by series scribe John Whedon accurately captures their characters and their relationship with their former neighbor and still good friend. (It’s a shame that no one considered bringing the McGees back for an encore, though Fibber’s name was mentioned on the show from time to time.) For you trivia buffs in the audience—John Whedon’s grandson is Joss Whedon, creator-director-producer-writer of the hit television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and its spin-off, Angel.

Update: Charlie Summers at Nostalgic Rumblings has a nifty link to an mp3 file of Hal Peary narrating the tale of Gerald McBoing McBoing, the famed Dr. Seuss character whose speech is sans words but is made up of sounds instead. It's cute and clever, check it out.

“T’aint funny, McGee…”

Quite the contrary—I find Fibber McGee & Molly very funny; it’s the OTR equivalent of what people call “non-think entertainment.” (The word from Radio Spirits’ “Texas” Tony Tollin is that RS has a “Best of Fibber & Molly” collection in the works.) Some of the jokes are sort of mired in a kind of vaudeville corniness, but I’m a huge admirer of creator-writer Don Quinn’s daffy and hilarious wordplay. Quinn had been working for the show’s stars Jim and Marian Jordan ever since their early days at Chicago’s WENR, and he continued with the program until 1951, when his writing partner Phil Leslie (who had joined the show in 1943) took over, joined by former Burns & Allen scribe Keith Fowler. (Fowler’s colleague on George & Gracie’s program, Paul Henning, had also enjoyed a brief tutelage under Quinn, albeit an uncredited one.) Quinn later enjoyed a second radio comedy success with The Halls of Ivy, starring Ronald and Benita Colman.

I listened to pair of broadcasts in the wee a.m. hours, the first originally heard over NBC Radio on March 18, 1941. Fibber and Molly are waiting on the postman, expecting some magazines—and the mail carrier, Mr. Bagworthy, is played by Gale Gordon, who is best known for his portrayal of Mayor La Trivia on the show:

BAGWORTHY: Morning, folks!
MOLLY: Good morning, Mr. Bagworthy! Did you bring our magazines?
BAGWORTHY: Nope! Just a letter for Mr. McGee…from the government…
FIBBER: Oh, the government, eh? I guess they’re thankin’ me for bein’ so prompt about my income tax (laughs) ah, there’s nobody like our ol’ Uncle Sam, is there?
BAGWORTHY: You’ll soon know…nephew…
(SFX: door closes)
MOLLY: Say, what’d he mean by that?
FIBBER: Search me, but…he better learn to keep a civil service tongue in his cheek…
MOLLY: Dear…and I was counting on getting this month’s fashion…
FIBBER: Yeah, my detective magazine is two weeks past (his voice trails off as he opens the letter and reads it) well, I’ll be…hey! Molly! Look! I’m drafted!
MOLLY: Say…don’t be silly, you’re over age…
FIBBER: So was Frank Knox, but they made him Secretary of the Navy, didn’t they?
MOLLY: I suppose you’re going to be Secretary of the Army…
FIBBER: No, I’d be satisfied to be secretary of Frank Knox…

(snip)

MOLLY: McGee…tell me this…this is all a joke!
FIBBER: Why…why, Molly…you…you mean you don’t want me to go?
MOLLY: Well, if they want you and need you, of course I want you to go, but…it seems so ridiculous, a man of your age…
FIBBER (upset): Whaddya mean, a man of my age? Why, I’m in marvelous physical shape…I’m in the prime of things…anyway, it’s my brains and experience they want—not my gorgeous figure…
MOLLY: Yeah, but your eyesight is bad, dearie…
FIBBER: Good enough…
MOLLY: How’d you pass the test for vision?
FIBBER: Shucks—I’ve had that optical chart memorized since the last war…
MOLLY: Yeah—but you have flat feet, too…
FIBBER: So what? An army travels on its stomach—and you’ll admit, I’ve got a stomach…

Most of the "usual suspects" in Wistful Vista—Mrs. Uppington (Abigail Randolph), the Old Timer (Bill Thompson), Gildersleeve (Harold Peary) and announcer Harlow Wilcox—are equally as skeptical as Molly regarding Fibber’s “induction,” and of course, it all turns out to be a simple misunderstanding. The second broadcast, from March 30, 1948, has our hero Fibber coming up with a brainstorm of an idea:

FIBBER: We haven’t took a trip for some time…whaddya say we take a trip for ourselves?
MOLLY: Why—wonderful, dearie, I love to travel! Where do we go? New York? Chicago? Mexico City? Where?
FIBBER: Downtown…
MOLLY: What do you mean?
FIBBER: Downtown…stay all night…I thought it might be kinda fun to pack our grips, check in at the Wistful Vista Plaza…have dinner, go to a movie—maybe even dance a little…and stay downtown…overnight…
MOLLY: Well, McGee—that does sound like fun at that!
FIBBER: Certainly! What do you say, snooky—is it a date?
MOLLY: You, uh…you haven’t asked anybody else?
FIBBER: Nope, nope…I’ve decided to go steady with you now…

No sooner have they made their plans but the doorbell rings, and Wallace Wimple—my favorite of the Fibber McGee & Molly characters—makes an appearance:

MOLLY: Do come in and sit down for a few seconds, Mr. Wimple, and chat…
FIBBER; Sorry we haven’t got time for more than that, Wimp…packin’ up for a little trip…change of scenery, new places, new faces…guy can’t let himself get stale, you know…
WIMPLE: Oh, you’re so right, Mr. McGee…I remember one time Sweetyface…
MOLLY: Who, Mr. Wimple?
WIMPLE: Sweetyface…that’s my big ol’ wife…
FIBBER: Oh…oh yes…
WIMPLE: I remember one time Sweetyface wanted to take a little trip…”Wallace!” she said, “where do you think I ought to go?” (giggling uncontrollably) The things that flash through my mind…I was really ashamed of myself…
FIBBER: What did you finally suggest?
WIMPLE: Well, I finally said, “Well, Sweetyface—it depends on what you want…if it’s rest and relaxation, why not buy a raft and try floating to Hong Kong? Or if you want excitement, you might try going over Niagara Falls in a peach basket…” I thought she’d be flattered when I said “peach basket” but she wasn’t…
MOLLY: That’s strange…
WIMPLE: But I must say that we took one trip together that I thought was grand fun…
FIBBER: Where was that, Wimp?
WIMPLE: Out to the airport…
FIBBER: Oh…
WIMPLE: We were supposed to fly to Bermuda, but somehow our tickets got mixed up and I went to Vancouver and she went to Egypt…
MOLLY: Well, heavenly days! How do you suppose the tickets got mixed up like that?
WIMPLE (again, with a mischievous giggle): Oh, it isn’t too difficult when you know the right people…

Fibber’s reserved a swanky room for himself and the missus, but for reasons unknown he’s packed two suitcases and won’t let anyone go near them (the explanation for this is pretty funny at the show’s end). Included in this broadcast is a visit from weatherman Foggy Williams (Gordon), and the McGees also encounter The Old Timer (working as a hotel bellhop), Doc Gamble (Arthur Q. Bryan) and Wilcox at the Wistful Vista Plaza. Wilcox does a Johnson’s Wax commercial with Walter Tetley (Leroy on the McGee spinoff The Great Gildersleeve), who plays a pageboy (Fibber: “If that kid is a page, he must be folded.”). Harlow eventually comes clean and reveals that the page is his nephew, “Smallfry” Wilcox.

“Tums…for the tummy…”

It can certainly be argued that for announcer Don Wilson, his bread-and-butter was primarily his duties on The Jack Benny Program, a show that he began announcing for in 1934 and would work on for the next twenty-one years. (When you also consider that Don was with Jack on Benny’s TV show, his association with the comedian lasted even longer, since the television show was on until 1965.) But announcers were often very busy during Radio’s Golden Age, and in addition to the Benny program, Wilson’s familiar, jovial tones could also be heard on shows featuring Alan Young, Doris Day, Ginny Simms and Joe E. Brown—as well as Glamour Manor and Tommy Riggs and Betty Lou.

So after listening to the two Benny broadcasts, I encountered Don again on a March 20, 1951 edition of The Baby Snooks Show; Wilson was the pitchman for sponsor Tums (at that time, only ten cents a roll, and three rolls for a quarter). As the program opens, Snooks (Fanny Brice) is conversing with her father, Lancelot Higgins (Hanley Stafford):

SNOOKS: Well, why can’t I have a new Easter outfit?
DADDY: Ohhh…first Mommy, now you…well, if you must know, I don’t have the money…my job doesn’t offer that kind of remuneration…
SNOOKS: What’s remu…mu…what you said?
DADDY: Remuneration…it’s time you learned a new word…tell me, what do I carry home every Saturday night?
SNOOKS: Hmm…Uncle Louie…
DADDY: I mean my paycheck…it’s all spent…
SNOOKS: Well, Pamela Richardson is gettin’ a new Easter outfit…and I want one, too!
DADDY: Oh, so that’s it…well, Pamela’s father happens to be a banker…I don’t have his kind of money…
SNOOKS: What kind do you have?
DADDY: I don’t mean it that way—we have the same money, but…he has a whole lot more…
SNOOKS: Then why aren’t you smart enough to be a banker?
DADDY: I am smart enough…I’m just not lucky…I never got the opportunity…
SNOOKS: Well, Mommy says…since you and she got married you passed up every opportunity…
DADDY: I wish I had passed up that one, too…

It’s only when Snooks informs her father that Pamela Richardson has called the Higgins family “poor white trash” (pretty harsh for a sitcom, don’t you think?) that Daddy decides to go down to the bank and try to secure a personal loan to buy the entire family new Easter clothing—only he has to do so from Pamela’s father (Fred Shields). Snooks also lets the information about the “poor white trash” comment slip to Richardson, which angers the banker and he agrees to grant Daddy the loan. After a funny encounter with an oh-so-trying-to-be-patient department store clerk (Elvia Allman), the family is bedecked in new Easter outfits—but Snooks’ friend Pamela still thinks her clan is poor and white and trashy, so Snooks punches her in the nose, causing Mr. Richardson to put the kibosh on the loan. Daddy then gets an idea: he’ll ask his boss (Ken Christy) for the money, and he brings Snooks with him to “play on his sympathies”:

WEEMISH: Three hundred dollars? That’s a lot of money, Higgins…of course, if it’s for an emergency I might consider it…on the other hand, if it’s for something foolish—like Jackson in the shipping department wanted a hundred-dollar advance just to buy some Easter clothes…hah! Ridiculous…naturally, I turned him down…
DADDY: Oh…naturally…
WEEMISH: Well? What’s your story? (awkward pause) Well???
SNOOKS: Sorry—we need some time to change it…
DADDY: Well, uh…the reason I need the money is…uh…er…uh…it’s on account of Vera…you see, she’s…she’s sick (with pathos) Oh, she’s very sick…
WEEMISH: Sick? Of what?
SNOOKS: Of wearin’ the same ol’ clothes…
DADDY (quickly): No!!! This is no time to joke about your mother’s illness! For which we need the money…get it?
SNOOKS (catching on): Oh yeah, yeah…poor Mommy…awful sick…
DADDY: Oh yes, Mr. Weemish…just this morning I took Vera’s temperature…and it was a hundred and five!!!
WEEMISH: A hundred and five???
SNOOKS: And that was in the shade, too!
WEEMISH: Higgins, this does sound serious…
DADDY: Oh, it is, Mr. Weemish…the doctor says she’ll need an operation…and that’s why I need the three hundred dollars…
SNOOKS: Yeah, she’ll need an operation…
WEEMISH (sympathetically): Well, Snooks…Lancelot…I’m very sorry to hear this…uh, what are they going to operate on her for?
SNOOKS (quickly): Appendix…
DADDY (also quickly): Gallstones…
WEEMISH: What?
SNOOKS: Gallstones!
DADDY: Appendix!
SNOOKS: Appendix!
DADDY: Gallstones!
WEEMISH: Huh???
SNOOKS: Once more, and maybe we can come out together…

Snooks then lets the cat out of the bag about the outfits, and Weemish angrily kicks Higgins out of the office—he later relents and allows Daddy to have the loan, but Snooks has one more trick up her sleeve to scotch that as well. “The Easter Outfit” is a Baby Snooks rarity in that it’s one of the few half-hour shows in its situation comedy format extant today, and the more of the half-hour programs I listen to, the more I become a fan of Fanny’s—she’s really sensational. (I have a great admiration for Stafford, too; he makes a perfect foil for Brice’s antics.)

The other program on the Baby Snooks CD (part of the Radio Spirits box set Radio’s Greatest Sitcoms) is an AFRS rebroadcast originally heard over CBS on March 21, 1947: Lancelot and Vera (Arlene Harris) have decided to redecorate the famed house of Sycamore Terrace, and Daddy has built his very own desk to save some money:

DADDY: I’m going to carry this desk upstairs…
SNOOKS: Mm hmm…
DADDY: I’m going to set it in the living room and surprise your mother when she gets home…
SNOOKS: Lemme help you carry it…
DADDY: That’s all I need…
SNOOKS: It’s too heavy for you, lil’ Daddy…
DADDY: I’ll manage…
SNOOKS: Hmm…
DADDY: If you want to do something, guide me upstairs while I’ve got it on my back…
SNOOKS: All right…
DADDY: Now, let’s see if I can lift it (grunting) Ooooh…there…boy, this is heavier than I thought…
SNOOKS: But it’s comfortable…
DADDY: What do you mean, comfortable? Snooks! Where are you???
SNOOKS: Sittin’ on the desk…
DADDY: Get down off there!!!
SNOOKS: All right (SFX: drops to floor) Is it still too heavy, Daddy?
DADDY: No, I…I can manage easily…what’s the matter with you, Snooks? What are you standing on now?
SNOOKS: Nothin’…
DADDY: Then why you seem to be…growing taller?
SNOOKS: ‘Cause you’re sinkin’ to your knees…

Mommy (Vera) has hired a decorator named Lester Q. Zimmel (John Brown) to do the remodeling, and horrified by Daddy’s DIY desk, gives it to Snooks for her clubhouse. Unfortunately, Daddy has left an important contract in one of the desk’s drawers, and thus begins a chase to locate it: Snooks sold it to the junkman, who sold it to a second-hand furniture store, who sold it to a dealer, who doesn’t know who the desk was sold to but will call Higgins when the driver returns. (If you took Sitcoms 101, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the identity of the person who bought the desk.) The last half-hour finds Snooks and Daddy attempting to wallpaper the bedroom, as the decorator has quit after being punched in the nose (something about spending $300 for a desk, hint hint)—and of course, this activity ends with predictably hilarious results.

The announcer on this program is Harlow Wilcox, who again, like Don Wilson, supplemented his main bread-and-butter (Fibber McGee & Molly) by announcing on other shows. But one thing has always puzzled me regarding Wilcox—on Fibber McGee & Molly, he was sort of established as a resident of Wistful Vista; but you get the impression that he hung around Sycamore Terrace (on the Snooks show) a good deal as well. Either he maintained two residences (a double life, perhaps?) or Sycamore Terrace was but a small commute away from Wistful Vista (all aboard!).

OTR on the (small) screen

I was doing a little random surfing earlier this morning, and I skated on over to Finders Keepers, a nice little video/DVD business overseen by the Grams siblings, Martin, Jr. ("the Isaac Asimov of OTR books") and Virginia. I have been meaning to make a purchase from them for quite some time now, yet something always seems to cut in line--but I had a little disposal income this payday, and I figured I would order a few titles. (Martin scored a VHS copy of Abbott & Costello's It Ain't Hay for me a while back, so I knew the movie quality was top-notch.)

They have so many great offerings over at the website, it's difficult not to go hog wild--but I settled on five choices, which I hope to be able to review here on the blog in the upcoming weeks: Goin' to Town (1944), the fifth Lum & Abner feature (I decided not to wait on Critics' Choice Video for this one); Look Who's Laughing (1941) and sequel Here We Go Again (1942), the two RKO films starring Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy and Fibber McGee & Molly (I saw these years ago when I still had TCM, but it will nice to revisit); The Life of Riley (1948) (I've not seen this one but the positive buzz is that it's one of the best OTR-to-film offerings); and Charlie McCarthy, Detective (1939), another film that I have not seen but am anxious to view.

Martin gave the OTR Digest a heads up sometime back that they were going to discontinue a few titles, and I noticed that the Our Miss Brooks television episodes they had for sale have disappeared. (I could kick myself for not ordering those sooner.) I should get the above titles in about 2-3 weeks, so as soon as they arrive I will offer up my thoughts.

”You’re always right…with Autolite…”

Day 9 of “Twenty Days Well-Calculated to Keep You in Suspense.”

Backseat Driver

Joe and Ellie (Jim and Marian Jordan) are driving home from an evening at the movies when they hear a radio bulletin notifying listeners that Louis Mattrick (Glenn Anders), a man responsible for the murder of a New Hampshire family, has been spotted in the immediate area. The couple are concerned, and well they should be—since Mattrick has stowed himself away in the back of their vehicle and is now threatening them at gunpoint.

I’ve always marveled that one of the all-time classic Suspense episodes features an unlikely pair of guest stars as dramatic performers: Jim and Marian Jordan, who are billed, of course, as “Fibber McGee & Molly.” But using comedians was not a novelty for new producer-director Anton M. (Tony) Leader (nor was it for William Spier): among the famous comedians who took a turn at the Suspense microphones include Jack Benny (who made four appearances on the show), Milton Berle, Eddie Cantor, Bob Hope, Danny Kaye, Henry Morgan, Phil Silvers, and Red Skelton.

By the time of this February 3, 1949 broadcast, Suspense had acquired a new sponsor in Autolite. Roma Wines dropped its sponsorship in 1947 (apparently the company was seeing other programs behind Suspense’s back), but CBS—still confident in the show’s popularity—agreed to sustain the program until the end of the year. CBS also sustained the hour-long version of Suspense, a brief experiment that lasted for about five months (January 3 through May 15, 1948). A month and a half later, the Autolite people took a gamble on the show (for thirteen weeks, as the show had dipped somewhat in the ratings due to its brief sixty-minute foray); and when it quickly regained its popularity, contracted to sponsor the program until 1954.

Suspense had also obtained a new individual occupying the producer-director’s chair in Tony Leader, whose previous credits included Murder at Midnight, a syndicated radio horror show that began in 1946. (William Spier, Suspense’s previous director-producer, left the show in February 1948 to write a stage play, but would return to produce the show in 1949—with Norman Macdonnell as director—after Leader’s one season departure.)

I should also mention that “Backseat Driver” functions as a sort of “old home week” for Suspense announcer Harlow Wilcox (who uses the concept in the show’s opening commercial); Wilcox joined the program in November 1948 as Autolite’s pitchman, continuing in that capacity until June 1954. Wilcox, you see, was the longtime announcer for the Johnson’s Wax program—whose stars were, of course, Fibber McGee & Molly. There’s an amusing commercial spot at this program’s conclusion in which the McGees and Harlow banter back and forth about Autolite (Fibber, who nicknamed Wilcox “Waxy” due to his endless touting of Johnson’s Glo-Coat, bestows a new nickname, “Sparky,” on his friend in honor of the automotive parts people.) Because of this commercial—and of course, a superb script written by Sally Thorson—“Backseat Driver” is one of my favorite Suspense episodes, a sentiment apparently shared by many of the program’s fans. Fibber and Molly returned to the show for an encore performance on February 22, 1951 and the script made its third and final appearance—this time with veteran radio actors Parley Baer and Vivi Janniss in the leads—on July 19, 1955.

The Trap

Helen Crane (Agnes Moorehead) has lived alone in her “big ol’ barn” of a house for a couple of years now, and that’s precisely the way she likes it. The only problem is, she’s become convinced that there’s someone else living inside those same four walls—especially when she discovers food missing and a clock that has mysteriously rewound itself. The police dismiss her as some sort of crank, but when the postman questions her about a change-of-address form she’s submitted—and a luggage salesman delivers a set of suitcases she’s ordered—it becomes clear that whomever is in the house wants her gone, even to the point of whistling “Aloha (Farewell to Thee).”

Based on a story by Virginia Meyers and adapted for Suspense by Walter Brown Newman and Ralph Rose, “The Trap” (broadcast on June 16, 1949) is a genuine 24-karat gem; I had not ever heard the program before and was thoroughly delighted and entertained by this wonderfully chilling tale. (Try not to miss this one, the ending is a wow.) Agnes Moorehead gives a performance that almost matches the intensity of her celebrated “Sorry, Wrong Number”; it would be the last of four appearances on the show that season, which also included “The Yellow Wallpaper” (7/29/48), “The Screaming Woman” (11/25/48), and an encore of “Sorry” (11/18/48). “The First Lady of Suspense" is ably supported by an equally top-notch cast that includes Sidney Miller, Herb Vigran, Paula Winslowe and Cathy Lewis.

Suspense fans had the opportunity to get a double dose of the “outstanding theatre of thrills” by the time of this broadcast: a live television version of the show, also sponsored by Autolite, had premiered over CBS-TV March 1, 1949. Several of the episodes included in this Best of Suspense box set were adapted for the new visual medium, among them “Cabin B-13,” “Dead Ernest,” and “On a Country Road.” Although only a handful of the television broadcasts exist today, from the ones I’ve been able to see (thanks to Charlie Summers, who sent me copies of “All Hallow’s Eve” [10/28/52] and “F.O.B. Vienna” [4/28/53]) I don’t think the TV version was as effective as it was on radio. (Certainly, entries such as “Backseat Driver” and “The Trap” would have fallen flat had they been attempted.) But this was of little consequence to the viewing audience—the TV Suspense managed to last for five years, ending its run August 17, 1954.