My pal Kliph Nesteroff (whose latest book we highly recommend) sent me this video. It's an hour show but the player is configured to show you just the last five minutes. The program is a Canadian version of the American TV show Hit Parade which each week would perform the current top-selling tunes, often in cute little sketches with interesting staging. This week, they decided to perform "See You Later, Alligator" with the characters from Walt Kelly's newspaper strip, Pogo.
The end credits of this show from the late fifties show that it was directed by Stan Harris and written by John Aylesworth — two men who later would become very big on American variety shows…
I asked about the show Subways Are For Sleeping and as expected, I heard from my longtime pal Jim Brochu. Of course he saw it…
You spoke my name aloud and I appear. Yes, I actually did see Subways Are For Sleeping. I was 16 and at that point I was going to the theater at least once or twice a week and seeing everything. And having no critical eye, I loved everything I saw back then. I even remember the seat I was in, D2, fourth row on the aisle right side of the St. James Theatre.
Some of the things I remember about the show: The Overture was terrific. Three or four Jule Styne songs that went on to be independent hits led us to believe that there was a sensational evening in store. Sadly that wasn't the case.
I had never heard of the two leads who were Carol Lawrence and Sydney Chaplin (Charlie's son). Lawrence was a wonderful performer and Sydney Chaplin had the charisma of an army boot. There was no chemistry between them.
Years later, I produced a play starring Carol Lawrence and she told me that she and Sydney just didn't get along and it certainly showed on the stage. A few months later, Chaplin would appear as Nicky Arnstein opposite Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl and he hadn't improved. I couldn't understand how he worked.
Phyllis Newman and Orson Bean
The standout performance was from Phyllis Newman who wore nothing but a towel the whole evening. I remember a funny song that Orson Bean sang to her called "I Just Can't Wait To See You With Clothes On."
And the story about homeless people just never produced an evening full of yucks. Despite the fact that it was an incredibly elaborate production that had over 40 people in the cast including Valerie Harper and Michael Bennett, it just never took off. The score is pleasant but definitely second rate Styne.
But I'm glad you brought it up because the cast album is very listenable and people are still talking about Merrick's stunts with the critics' names. Hope your ankle is healing. Sending love.
It is healing and thank you for your remembrances. And according to the Internet Broadway Database, the show did have a cast of 40 not counting stand-bys, so that probably contributed to its closure when ticket sales dipped. It may also have discouraged revivals. I have been involved in a couple of very brief, went-nowhere efforts to revive Li'l Abner on Broadway and as each effort collapsed, someone named as a factor that the original production opened with a cast of 55.
And speaking of David Merrick's stunts with the critics, Ben Varkentine wrote to remind me of the stunt Peter Cook pulled when he opened a small show called The Establishment. This is quoting Mr. Cook in the book, From Fringe To Flying Circus by Roger Wilmut…
When I opened The Establishment, I found a David Merrick, who was a black postman from Philadelphia. He came to see the show and he liked it so he wrote out all these rave reviews saying The Establishment was better than Oliver, Stop the World…and whatever David Merrick shows were on, rolled into one. This infuriated David Merrick and he threatened a lawsuit — against me for doing exactly what he'd done with the critics. Merrick did not put his threats into practice.
The only surprising thing about that is that Merrick didn't follow through with his lawsuits. That he was a bad sport is was entirely typical of the producer some called "The Abominable Showman." I'm surprised no one has ever tried to do a Broadway play about him. Maybe they figure that if they depicted Merrick accurately, no one would believe it. Oh, the stories Stan Freberg had to tell about when Merrick bought the rights to turn Stan's United States of America albums into a Broadway musical…
Thanks to Jim and Ben and to the person who sent me a copy of the script for Subways Are For Sleeping.
This is a partial rerun of a post that ran here on February 21, 2002 but down below, there will be a little line and everything below the little line will be new content. It's about a Broadway show that I have never seen called Subways Are For Sleeping…
Click above to enlarge.
A friend sent me this picture of a famous (in Broadway lore) full-page ad that ran only once and only in one edition of The New York Herald-Tribune. Wanna hear the story behind it? Good. In 1961, the notorious Broadway producer David Merrick had a musical called Subways Are For Sleeping that was limping along at the box office, losing business and about to warrant closure. One reason was that the seven major Broadway critics had been indifferent — some, outright negative — about it. So, if only to cause trouble, Mr. Merrick had his staff dig up seven men with the same names as the seven critics. He brought the men in to see the show, wined and dined them, and secured permission to use their names and photos along with quotes about how much they enjoyed what they'd seen.
An ad was prepared and submitted to all seven newspapers…and it would have gotten into all seven, some say, had not a copy editor at one of the papers spotted the hoax just moments before press time. (The tip-off? The photo of Richard Watts. The theatre critic with that name was not black.) The alert copy editor phoned all the newspapers in town and they all pulled it…except that the early edition of the Herald-Tribune was already on the streets. No matter. Merrick secured what he wanted, which was an enormous amount of publicity. The grosses on Subways took an enormous leap upwards and, while the show was never a huge hit, it managed to last out the season and turn a modest profit.
It was a brilliant publicity stunt…and one that Merrick had wanted to do since the idea occurred to him years earlier. What stopped him was that, back then, the critic for The New York Times was Brooks Atkinson…and Merrick couldn't find anyone else with that name. When Atkinson retired, he was replaced by Howard Taubman…and there was an insurance agent named Howard Taubman.
Some called Merrick "The Abominable Showman" and there are those who worked with him who still get migraines at the mention of his name. I don't doubt that all or most of their tales are true…but I do think this ad was a stroke of genius. They don't make them like David Merrick any longer…which is both good and bad.
Okay, that was the little line and this is Mark now writing on 3/3/24. Like I said, most people have never seen the show Subways Are For Sleeping. It opened on Broadway on December 27, 1961 at the St. James Theater in New York and, as I explained back in 2002, received pretty not-good reviews. It closed there on June 23 the following year after 205 performances — not an out-and-out flop but a pretty disappointing number for a show with book and lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green and a score by Jule Styne.
The show the three of them had done just before it was Do-Re-Mi, which was a hit and before that, they'd done Bells Are Ringing, which was an even bigger hit and later Comden and Green did On the Twentieth Century with Cy Coleman. Those were three successful shows that I really liked. The director of Subways, Michael Kidd, had plenty of hits to his credit and there were some stars in the cast — Sydney Chaplin, Carol Lawrence, Orson Bean and Phyllis Newman. Ms. Newman's wardrobe for the entire show consisted of a bath towel and you'd think that alone would have sold some tickets.
So what went wrong such that Subways closed so soon and is almost never revived? It was suggested that its basic storyline — about homeless people who used subway cars as sleeper compartments — turned off a lot of New Yorkers. Well, maybe. I'm among those many who've never seen the show and I can't seem to find a copy of the script anywhere. But I do have the cast album and I also have the record below, which was made by Percy Faith and his Orchestra featuring instrumental-only, jazzed-up recordings of the songs from the show. Mr. Faith and that orchestra of his did a lot of records like this and he always made the material sound really good…
While I was ensconced recently in that Rehab Center for my busted ankle, I listened to a lot of music via Spotify and some of it was show tunes from shows I didn't know. I happened upon Mr. Faith's recording of the tunes from Subways and I thought, "Hey, these are great!" — certainly worthy of the good name of Jule Styne. So then I listened to the actual cast album of the show and I thought, "Hey, these aren't great!" I'm not sure what to think.
I expect to get a message from my pal Jim Brochu who knows everything about Broadway shows but I thought I'd ask here to see if anyone else reading this saw it or even performed in a production somewhere of it and can provide some insight. Or a copy of the script.
If you want to listen to the Percy Faith record, it's here on YouTube with a second Percy Faith album attached. It's also here on Spotify. If you want to listen to the original cast album, it's here on YouTube. And here's a tune from the show performed by Judy Garland. Maybe that's what the Broadway production needed: A Judy Garland…
I want to thank everyone for Happy Birthday wishes in my e-mailbox, on social media and on my telephone. The best gift of the day was that several were from friends I hadn't spoken with in many months — in two cases, many years. Those reacquaintances (that's not exactly the right word) pleased me a lot.
My ankle continues to heal, thank you. Tomorrow, I start Home Physical Training but I'm already getting around better than the trainers at the Rehab Center expected.
Is there anyone reading this who is an expert to any degree on an app called ACF Pro that works with WordPress, which is the software that drives this blog? I have a tech problem that is way above my pay grade and if I don't solve it soon, strange things may be happening to this website. Lemme know if you can help.
My blog just hiccuped and somehow reposted a couple of old messages as brand-new. I am fixing that.
And I got this from Mark Waid…
The letter you published today about Richard Lewis, where the guy references the song "You May Be Right" — he's actually thinking about the song "My Life." So close!
But maybe not that close because right after I got the above from Mark, I got this from Bea Jonas…
The Billy Joel song in question is actually "My Life" and Joel has said the nameless-friend-turned-stand-up was actually a guy named Tony Lawrence. The late Richard Lewis also rejected the idea that Joel was signing about him. You can read more about it here.
Obit for Ramona Fradon in The New York Times. I can remember a time when newspapers of any stature — let alone the esteemed N.Y. Times — didn't feel comic book creators were important enough to have their passings noted.
My friend Douglas Abramson wrote to me about the lack of an obit for Richard Lewis on this site…
This isn't one of those emails screeching because you haven't posted an obit. You have repeatedly posted your criteria for doing an obit in words small enough for even me to understand, after the second or third time. I am curious as to when you remember seeing him beginning to show up in the L.A. comedy clubs.
From reading his obituaries, I think he started in the N.Y.C. scene in the early 70s and was established enough that Billy Joel says that the nameless friend in the first verse of "You May Be Right," who: "Now gives them a stand-up routine in L.A." was Lewis and that song was released in the Fall of 1978. I don't think I came across him on cable until the mid-80s. For a contemporary and equal of Leno, Letterman, Crystal and Prinze, he seems to have taken a long time to catch on with the suits and the public.
Yeah. I barely knew Richard Lewis…certainly not well enough to call him a friend or have any first-hand insights into the man. Well, I have one but I think anyone could perceive this if they saw him perform: He was utterly honest. The guy he was onstage willing to blab on and on about his most private neuroses was the guy he was offstage. I think sometimes his willingness to bare all — to even force you to listen to aspects of his life that seemed too private to share with strangers — made some people uncomfy. That might have inhibited his marketability a bit.
He and I once picketed together for a while in one of the many Writers Guild strikes of my life. We were outside the Century Plaza Hotel, marching with signs because some sort of network affiliate conference was going on inside. It was hundred and umpteen degrees with no shade and everyone else was in t-shirts and shorts and light colors. Richard was dressed, as he usually was, head to toe in black and he was sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. He was actually very funny, kvetching about how hot it was and how foolish it was a dress as he did. He said "Remind me when I get to hell to abandon this look" and everyone around us laughed.
But we talked a while as we carried our signs and that's when I came to the above conclusion: Same guy offstage as he was on. What a shame to lose both of those men.
I haven't posted much lately warning writers and wanna-be writers how to avoid being cheated or abused but there's a lot of that on this site if you browse back over the many years of its existence. Here's an article in the Writers Guild's magazines that may alert you to a few more things to watch out for.
And I'll add one more: The phrase "knock out a few pages." That's a euphemism for "Do writing work for which you should be paid but don't expect to be paid."
Thank you for the continuing flow/trickle of best wishes for my ankle to heal. A lot of them say "I hope you feel better" and actually, when I'm not walking on it, I feel fine. And when I do walk on it, it only hurts a little. The frustrating part is all the limitations on my movement…so many things I can't do.
Only a few people have ignored my wishes and sent me medical advice. A lot of folks have endorsed my belief that not listening to people who think they know as much as doctors but aren't one is a healthy choice on my part.
I mentioned here that one night in the hospital, they gave me a pain-killer which induced hallucinations and I asked one of my nurses if she was dressed as a gorilla. I received a few requests to elaborate on that experience and there isn't a lot to elaborate on. I was having a bad dream, seeing all sorts of bizarre things…and they're not hallucinations when you're technically asleep. Then a nurse came in to check on me and take my blood pressure and her presence caused me to wake up.
So I wasn't really asleep but I also wasn't fully awake. I was in that Twilight Zone between the two states and I wasn't sure if I was seeing her or seeing a gorilla…so I asked. She laughed and that told me I was awake and she wasn't a gorilla and that pretty much was that. Why was I seeing gorillas? I dunno. Maybe I read too many DC Comics in the sixties.
Hey, you got two hours to watch one of my favorite movies? From 1966, it's The Fortune Cookie starring Jack Lemmon and Water Matthau in their first film together. Directed and co-written by Billy Wilder, the film won Matthau an Oscar as Best Supporting Actor and I can't imagine anyone else in the part. If you've never seen it, try to make the time…
Mitch McConnell is stepping down as Republican leader of the Senate in November. Kevin Drum itemizes some of the damage the man has done. It's not just changing the rules to deny Merrick Garland a seat on the Supreme Court.
My parents were married on March 3, 1951 at the Desert Inn — which was then a motel, not a hotel — in Las Vegas. We have no idea precisely when I was conceived but at some point during her pregnancy with me, my mother was told that I would be born on February 29, 1952…a Leap Year Day like today. If I had been, today would be my eighteen birthday…sort of.
But I wasn't born on 2/29/52 when her body told her it was time and she reported to the hospital. I wasn't born 3/1/52 either. My mother, who was as nice as any woman you ever met, was kind enough to only rarely tell me about the pain and agony she went through trying to get me to make my debut. Finally, the afternoon of 3/2/52, they went in and got me. My father was told, "Congratulations, Mr. Evanier. Your wife just gave birth to a seven-pound, six-ounce comic book writer." Or at least he was told something like that. The weight is exact though I have managed to pack on a few pounds since then.
The doctor who delivered me was Dr. Mietus. If you don't like me, complain to him…and I say that knowing darn well he's almost certainly deceased by now. I suppose you could also complain to the Pet Milk company which from the above evidence seems to have in some way sponsored my birth. They're still around.
Dr. Mietus not only brought me into this world, he advised my parents not to try again. My mother's insides, he said, were not properly configured for unobstructed childbirth. It was a miracle that she was able to have me and that experience had left so much scar tissue and other damage that she should try to never/ever get pregnant again. Mother and baby would never make it.
I did not hear this conversation or if I did, I don't recall it…and I have a good excuse, having been about thirty minutes old at the time. But my parents took it to heart and abandoned any fantasies about having a large family. It's why I was an Only Child and I have to admit, having seen so many of my friends fighting non-stop with siblings, I've always been pretty happy not to have had any.
The warning given my parents has led to a number of interesting discussions relating to the abortion issue. I have met so-called "Pro-Life" people and so-called "Pro-Choice" people and a key difference has been that some of the former claim to think all life is sacred but when my parents' situation was explained to them, felt that my mother should have risked her life to maybe bring more children into the world. I will leave this discussion at that for now.
Anyway, today is not my birthday but it was supposed to be. Being born two days later gave me (a) an annual, reliable birthday and (b) a good joke. As a kid, when people asked me when my birthday was, I could say, "I was born on March second and my parents were married on March third." It always got a laugh and even though I didn't understand why, a laugh is a laugh. I just kept on giving that answer despite my parents suggesting other, non-funny ways to respond.
Over the years, Donald Trump has thrown around some awesome numbers as to his personal wealth…this many billions, that many billions…
But he seems to be having trouble paying what for him should be an easy amount to pay if he's worth anywhere near what he's claimed he has. How much does he currently owe? I'm not sure. Let's consult The Trump Debt Tracker.
While I was in Rehab, I did a lot more TV watching and YouTube prowling than usual. I kept reminding myself how much I like Seth Meyers' show, especially his "A Closer Look" segments. Here's the one from this evening. Very clever stuff…
