Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Hi, Bob!

This evening, superstar publicist Jeff Abraham and I went down to the new Grammy Museum in downtown Los Angeles for An Evening With Bob Newhart. The museum has been doing these events with important folks in the recording industry and Mr. Newhart was the first honoree in the category of Comedy, as opposed to Music. A loving and respectful audience turned out to hear him interviewed and he closed by favoring us with one of his earliest routines — the one about the submarine commander briefing his crew. Gosh, he's a funny man.

Let's see what I can recall that will translate to this format. Someone in the audience asked him who his favorite comedian was. He immediately said, "Well, this is not to get back to Rickles..." His answer was Peter Sellers and he explained why — because he never seemed like he was trying to be funny — and then did a suprisingly good impression of Sellers in one of the Pink Panther movies.

He talked about his early days as an accountant and how his first, best-selling album came to be. He was writing and performing his little monologues in and around Chicago, occasionally on local TV. Disc jockey Dan Sorkin became familiar with his material and recommended him to Warner Brothers Records, which was then a new, struggling company. The execs there liked what they heard and said, "We'll record an album next time you play a night club." Newhart had to inform him he'd never played a night club and had no plans to start. Because of their offer though, he began to look for one that would take him in.

That took several months. Finally, on his first such date, they recorded The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart, which became one of the best-selling albums of all time...not one of the best-selling comedy albums. One of the best-selling albums, period. It not only put Newhart on the map...it put Warner Brothers Records there, as well.

From there, it was on to more records and to TV. Asked which of his two long-running sitcoms he preferred, he said he couldn't pick. He discussed the wonders of Suzanne Pleshette and the odd trio of Larry, Darryl and Darryl. He talked about being best friends with Don Rickles. He told funny stories about appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show. Answering a question from an up-and-coming stand-up comedian in the audience, he spoke of the plain, old-fashioned bravery involved in getting up in front of an audience that you have to make laugh. It was all quite wonderful. But then you'd figure two hours with Bob Newhart would be, right?

• Posted at 11:41 PM · LINK

Today's Video Link

This is almost an hour long and if you have some yearning to watch the entire hour, click over here and view a larger image. This is the December 14, 1950 episode of Broadway Open House, an early TV series that is remembered largely as the forerunner of The Tonight Show.

The show debuted on May 29, 1950 and ran until August 24, 1951, airing at the then-unheard-of hour of 11 PM to Midnight. Networks in those days signed off early but the legendary Sylvester "Pat" Weaver at NBC thought the broadcast day (and therefore, his network's profits) could be expanded. It was all done live for about eleven dollars and most of the episodes I've seen are about as clumsy and cheap-looking as this one. Which is not to say they were not entertaining.

When the show was originally announced, its host was to be a comedian named Don "Creesh" Hornsby. Little is known about him except that he liked to yell "Creesh!" as a catch-phrase. Hey, it's still a funny word: Creesh. Next time you're in public, try shouting it over and over and see if you don't get big laughs.

Sadly, two weeks before debut date, "Creesh" Hornsby passed away. Some histories say it was a car accident. Some say it was polio. Whatever the cause, NBC had to scramble to replace him and they came up with two hosts — Morey Amsterdam and Jerry Lester — who alternated nights. After a while, Amsterdam went on to other projects and Lester took over his duties, abetted by a statuesque young lady named Dagmar. The big joke was that he was about as tall as her formidable bustline so when they stood together, guess where he was looking.

Lester was also aided by a constantly-changing stream of writers. Allan Sherman was briefly one. So was Stan Burns, who was later one of Steve Allen's main writers. If you make it to the end of this video, you'll see a credit for Danny and Doc Simon. Doc, of course, was later better known as Neil Simon.

I've seen a half-dozen of these and always found them fun, largely because of the tireless energy of Jerry Lester. He was like a guy hosting a party who was a little too determined to make sure no one didn't have a good time. He could sing, dance, tell jokes, do stunts, interview guests and even work in his own catch-word, which was "beanbag" — admittedly, not as witty as "creesh."

You probably won't make it through the whole thing but watch a little. This was about as polished as television got in 1950...

• Posted at 2:30 AM · LINK