“We love the halls of Ivy…that surround us here today…”

Just as it’s hard to believe that Our Miss Brooks was created without Eve Arden originally in mind, it is equally difficult to fathom that Ronald and Benita Colman were not the first performers considered when Don Quinn originated The Halls of Ivy. Veteran character actor Gale Gordon and actress Edna Best were originally cast as Dr. and Mrs. William Todhunter Hall, a college president and his wife who presided over Ivy College in a small middle America town with the same name.

In an audition record dated June 22, 1949, both Gordon and Best do a pretty good job in their roles, but NBC was reluctant to commit to Gordon, seeing as how he was already doing similar school work on Brooks. The director of Ivy, Nat Wolff, then hit upon the novel idea to offer the part to his friend Ronald Colman. Both Colman and his wife, Benita Hume Colman, had demonstrated an extraordinary talent for dry comedy with their guest appearances on The Jack Benny Program—and beginning January 6, 1950 over NBC Radio for Schlitz Beer (beer and college—a perfect ad match, wouldn’t you say) the Colmans breathed life into one of radio’s best and most memorable sitcoms.

Colman’s portrayal of Hall is one of the reasons I became a fan of his; the character he plays, an erudite individual who manages to avoid coming across as a staid, stuffy, professorial caricature, is a fully three-dimensional personage, never stooping to your typical cardboard stereotype. (Hall reminds me of a similar part Colman played in the movies—that of Professor Michael “Mike” Lightcap in The Talk of the Town (1942), after he’s been "humanized" by Nora Shelley, played by the always delightful Jean Arthur.) Hall’s commitment to both the college and students is truly inspiring. But the real revelation on this series is Benita Colman, whose character of Hall’s wife—the former Victoria Cromwell, English music hall entertainer—is an absolute treasure; her vivacious, effervescent personality and lilting, infectious laugh endeared her to many a radio listener (consider me guilty of falling under her spell as well, especially when she calls her fictional husband “Toddy-dear.”).

Joining Ronnie and Benita on The Halls of Ivy was a supporting cast of first-rate radio veterans, beginning with Herb Butterfield as Clarence Wellman, Hall’s nemesis on the Board of Regents, and Willard Waterman (The Great Gildersleeve), who as John Merriweather was frequently Hall’s lone voice of support. Elizabeth Patterson and Gloria Gordon were both heard as Penny, the Hall's maid. In the two episodes that I listened to while at work last night, I was delighted to hear from such talents as Gil Stratton, Jr., Frank Martin, Jane Morgan, Herb Vigran, Janet Scott, Jack Kruschen (who was sensational as a college-educated cop) and Jerry Hausner.

As mentioned before, writer Don Quinn created The Halls of Ivy, and Quinn’s name crops up quite frequently when discussing old-time radio since he was the mastermind behind one of OTR’s classic comedies, Fibber McGee & Molly. Ivy was a definite change of pace for the veteran scribe, although you can definitely detect his signature wordplay in many of its scripts. (In one episode, Vicky mentions that a local diner, the Dew Drop Inn, is referred to by the students who have eaten there as “the Dew Drop Dead.”) But Quinn’s forte was jokes; he was aware of his limitations in developing plots and situations, and so writers like Walter Brown Newman, Jerome Lawrence & Robert Lee, and Milton & Barbara Merlin were around to ably assist him in the writing. Their contributions brought some wonderfully poignant overtones to the scripts—the character of Dr. Hall often found himself nostalgically flashing back to the early days of his and Vicky’s courtship and eventual marriage.

A broadcast from April 7, 1950 is a good example of the top quality that is The Halls of Ivy, as Dr. Hall approaches the missus with an announcement:

TODDY: Victoria…it’s much too beautiful a day for work…let’s play hooky…
VICKY: Hooky? On a school day?
TODDY: Of course! Can’t very well be played on a day of rest…to play hooky at all, one must have something to play it from…I mean to say, those are the ground rules…
VICKY: Yes, but would it be cricket?
TODDY: Oh, no, no…it’s nothing like cricket…if anything, it resembles dirty pinochle…but actually, it’s hooky…
VICKY (laughs): Well, it’s a lovely idea…and beautifully expressed…but you can’t…you’ve got a meeting scheduled for two o’clock this afternoon with all your department heads…Quincannon, Haislip, Gearhart…
TODDY: No, I refuse to consider it…I won’t spend a moment of this day cooped up indoors…not one sun-swept, dazzling moment…how could you even suggest such a course of action? To a man known in his youth as “Gypsy” Hall…
VICKY (laughs): I was only reminding you…
TODDY: I’ll get out of it…I’ll phone Quincannon…I’ll tell him I have a cold…
VICKY: Toddy, you’re not going to tell him a thumping lie…?
TODDY: Bad form, eh?
VICKY: Very bad form…
TODDY: Wouldn’t be…ethical?
VICKY: Far from it…
TODDY: All right, then I’ll have Penny do it… (calls) Penny!

Hall manages to deceive Quincannon (Frank Martin) into thinking he’s under the weather, but his and Vicky’s plans for a picnic outing soon go astray:

(SFX: door opens, then slams quickly)
TODDY: Oh good heavens!
VICKY: What is it?
TODDY: Quincannon…he’s in his yard, across the street…playing with the children…
VICKY: Oh, did he see you?
TODDY: No…you’d think, wouldn’t you, that a man in his position would have something better to do…he should be working!
VICKY: I’m sure he’s finished at least one class this morning…
TODDY: I wonder how long he’ll stay out there…I hate to lose a moment of this sunlight…I know!
VICKY: We’ll sneak out the back way…
TODDY: Uh…sneak is a rather shabby term, Victoria…surely we are privileged to leave our own house by the rear entrance if the whim seizes us?
VICKY (mock contrition): I beg your pardon…
TODDY: I accept your apology…now, let’s sneak out the back way…

A series of interruptions prevent the Halls from escaping the house, but when they finally are able to leave, Toddy begins to feel guilty about abandoning his sense of duty and returns to the college for the meeting—only to discover that he wasn’t the only one who thought about “playing hooky.” A second episode, from April 14, 1950, is equally entertaining and amusing, as the Halls are taking a cab en route to a dinner party:

VICKY: I do like dinner parties…I wonder what the main course will be?
TODDY: Main course? Me. There is nothing Mrs. Foster likes to serve her guests so much as a celebrity—major or minor…
VICKY (laughs): She should be very happy this evening, then…in your black tie, you’re quite a tasty dish…
TODDY (chuckles): Thank you—but not as tasty, I’m afraid, as the major celebrity she originally intended to have tonight…he disappointed her at the last moment…
VICKY: Oh? How?
TODDY: He led with his right, and was knocked out in the sixth round—and thereby ceased to be a major celebrity…ah, she forced to settle for a college president…
VICKY: Oh, poor woman…
TODDY: She is not, thank heavens, a poor woman…she’s one of the richest in town…and one of the loneliest…that’s why she fritters away so much of her wealth on trivialities…I’ve been trying for over a year to guide her interests into more constructive channels…
VICKY: Like, say, um…gymnasium constructive? Or library?
TODDY: Exactly…I have a feeling that when we leave tonight, I’ll have a nice, fat endowment check in my pocket…
VICKY: Well, I have the same feeling…Mr. Merriweather told me that you made a very great impression on her…
TODDY: Yes, I suppose I have…I mean to say, I…I have some, er, respectable degrees…and I’ve written a few good books…
VICKY: Ah, it’s your good looks that have impressed her, not your good books…
TODDY: Oh, nonsense…nonsense, Victoria… (laughs) I never…never heard anything so ridiculous in my life… (laughs) good looks… (laughs) me… (laughs, then long pause) you really think so?
VICKY: Of course I do! And I’m not the only one…every coed on the campus is mad about you…
TODDY (laughs): You’re just saying that… (chuckles) Really?
(SFX: car stops)
CABBIE: This is as far as I can go…
VICKY: Driver, you took the words right out of my mouth…

The Halls are forced to walk the rest of the way (due to road construction), and on their way there they encounter a runaway dog—in the process of trying to find the mutt’s owners, they end up being late and missing the party. This one is a real gem, particularly when Benita Colman talks “baby talk” to the dog, it alone is worth the price of admission. (The plot resolution of this show is also pretty easy to figure out for students of sitcoms, but trust me, getting there is half the fun.)

Sadly, The Halls of Ivy enjoyed a relatively brief run on radio, wrapping it up on June 25, 1952. Though it also appeared for a short time on television (from October 19, 1954 to September 29, 1955), it’s a shame that such a gentle, literate comedy bowed out too soon. (I’ve only seen one episode of the TV series—“The Umbrella Man” (5/17/55)—and while it’s very entertaining, it simply can’t touch the radio version; plus, I was sort of distracted by Colman’s all-too-obvious dependency on cue cards.) Nearly ninety episodes of the series are extant today (many of them rebroadcasts from the Voice of America), and I heartily recommend this warm, underrated show to each and every old-time radio fan.

“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.

“Oh, Ronnie—Ronnie, where are you?” “Right here in the library, Benita…”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I went over to the Colmans’ for a party and I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place?” This was the rhetorical question posed by Jack Benny to his writing staff, and of course, the rhetorical answer could only be “Yes, uproariously so.” In real-life, Ronald Colman and his wife Benita Hume lived a block away from the comedian, but by moving their house directly to his on the radio show, such inspiration yielded some memorably hilarious broadcasts, and the Hollywood couple would make a total of twenty-one appearances on the program, practically making them “regulars.” (Interestingly, the decision to hire someone to play Colman’s wife was nixed by Benny, who was a stickler for realism—yet once again Jack’s comedic instincts proved right on the money, as Hume proved to possess an amazingly adept comedic touch.)

The Colmans made their debut on the December 9, 1945 broadcast, where the “I Can’t Stand Jack Benny Because…” Contest is well underway. Even Rochester is helping out Jack by reading some of the entries (“You know, boss—two more letters and I’ll be convinced that I’m workin’ for the wrong man.”); but this one in particular made me laugh-out-loud:

LARRY: Oh, Mr. Benny—here’s a letter from Senator Claghorn…
JACK (puzzled): Senator Claghorn?
PHIL: Yeah, he’s on Fred Allen’s program…
JACK: Oh…what does the Senator say, Larry?
LARRY: He says…”I can’t stand—I say, I can’t stand—Jack Benny because he’s so corny when he sits down to dinner he butters his ears…”
JACK: Hmm…
LARRY: “…his ears, that is…”
JACK: What?
PHIL: That’s a joke, son!
JACK: Now wait a minute! For heaven’s sake…
MARY: You’re lettin’ ‘em get past you tonight!
JACK: Now cut that out! I don’t care anything about him…about him, that is…

Jack has found an invitation on his back porch from Ronnie and Benita inviting him to dinner that evening, something that is met with a good deal of skepticism from his cast:

MARY: You invited to the Colmans?
JACK: Yes, what’s so strange about that? We’ve been neighbors for about twelve years…of course, for a while, my…success in pictures sort of…came between us…you see, uh. Colman wanted the lead in The Horn Blows at Midnight but they…they gave it to me…you see, at his age, they…uh…didn’t want him to stay up that late…(Mary breaks out into giggles) What are you giggling about?
MARY: I saw the picture and you should have gone to bed earlier, too…

And over at the Colmans:

BENITA: Say, darling—shouldn’t you be dressed? You know, we’re having a guest for dinner…
RONNIE: A guest? Tonight? Who?
BENITA: You remember, Jack…Jack Wellington, from London…
RONNIE: Oh yes…yes, I forgot…good old Wellington…then you did mail him the note I wrote…
BENITA: No—I couldn’t find the note anywhere…I think it must have blown out the window…well, I phoned him instead—he should be here any minute…
RONNIE: Splendid, splendid…
BENITA: Well, aren’t you going to dress?
RONNIE: Oh, no…no…not for Wellington…no, this turtleneck sweater is all right—he likes informality…
BENITA: Oh well, I won’t bother either…I say, could you come and help me choose the wine for dinner?
RONNIE: Yes, in a moment, dear…as soon as I finish this letter…now let me see…”I can’t stand Jack Benny because…”

Jack shows up at the Colmans for dinner bedecked in top hat, tie and tails—and naturally, the genteel British couple are too polite to explain to him that it’s all been a terrible mistake. The hilarity results from the clash between the sophisticated Colmans and vulgarian Benny, who remarks after breaking a 150-year-old wine glass in a toast: “Good thing I didn’t break anything that was new.”

Two weeks later (December 23, 1945), Jack returns the hospitality extended to him by inviting both the Colmans and their friend Wellington (Eric Snowden) over to his house for a Christmas dinner. Although Jack has hired a real English butler for the evening (played to hilarious incoherence by Mel Blanc), Rochester will still be handling most of the dinner arrangements:

JACK: Don’t forget—for dessert, we’re having a flaming plum pudding…
ROCHESTER: How do you fix it, boss?
JACK: Well, you take the plum pudding and put it in a bowl…
ROCHESTER: Uh-huh…
JACK: …then you take a pint of brandy…good brandy, you know—real old brandy…and you pour it over the pudding…
ROCHESTER: Continue, boss—you fascinate me!
JACK: Then you take a match and set fire to the brandy…
ROCHESTER: You what?
JACK: You take a match and set fire to the brandy…
ROCHESTER: Boss…I doubt if I’ll have the heart…

Jack also passes on instructions to his “gang,” who will be dining with his invited guests as well:

JACK: Mr. and Mrs. Colman will be here for dinner soon, and I also invited their friend, Jack Wellington…so please be on your best behavior—especially you, Phil…
PHIL: Me?
JACK: Yes, you—just for tonight, don’t bring your jug to the table…please…
PHIL: Now wait a minute, Jackson—have you ever tried eating that meat straight?
JACK: I know it’s awful, Phil, but do it just as a favor for me…and another thing, Phil—when you take the jacket off the baked potato, you’re not supposed to go (wolf whistle)…it’s only a potato! And Don…
DON: Yes, Jack?
JACK: Don, when Rochester offers you a third helping…try to refuse, will ya? Or at least say “Well…” before you dive in…and Mary…
MARY: Oh, Jack—don’t try to tell me anything about eating…
PHIL: You better listen to him, Livvy—he was eatin’ thirty years before you were born…

Next door, the Colmans are having difficulty mustering up the proper enthusiasm to attend Benny’s soiree:

BENITA: Hey, darling…it’s almost eight o’clock…it’s time for us to go over to Mr. Benny’s house—have you forgotten?
RONNIE: Oh no…no…I haven’t forgotten—it’s been on my mind all week…say, uh…perhaps we can phone and make some excuse…
BENITA: But darling, we can’t do that…he’s probably gone to a great deal of trouble preparing dinner…in fact, just this afternoon, his butler asked…oh, what’s his butler’s name again…um…
RONNIE: Manchester?
BENITA: Yes! Manchester! Well, he came to the back door and wanted to borrow some sugar…so I gave him a saucerful…
RONNIE: You gave him a saucerful?
BENITA: Yes—they already have all our cups…
RONNIE: Yes…yes, I wondered why Sherwood served my afternoon tea in a Dixie cup…

Once again, the comedy comes from the high-class Colmans and the no-class Benny (with some help from his gang), though this episode—being so close to Christmas—ends on a nicely sentimental note. As a result of their successful appearances on the show, Ronald and Benita Colman would later star in a radio/TV sitcom of their own, the delightful The Halls of Ivy. Colman’s Oscar (for 1947's A Double Life) would also play a pivotal role in Jack Benny’s best-remembered radio gag…but that’s for a future post…post, that is.