Thursday, December 8, 2011

An Interview with Bobby Ramsen - Part Six


Bobby Ramsen: Garry Moore was a delightful guy and lived a very quiet life, I think, in Westchester. He lived under his real name - Moffett. There's a story about some delivery guy coming to his door. "I have a package here for Mr. Moffett." "Thank you, I'll take it. I'm Mr. Moffet. "Gee, anybody ever tell you that you look like Garry Moore?" He lived a very quiet life as Mr. Moffett when he went home.

Kliph Nesteroff: After you did The Garry Moore Show - you also did an appearance on The Jackie Gleason Show.

Bobby Ramsen: I did. Where did you find that out?

Kliph Nesteroff: I know it all.


Bobby Ramsen: Well, God bless ya. Yes, I did do Gleason - it was The American Scene Magazine. I hardly saw Gleason. He kept to himself. I knew Frank Fontaine pretty well. We had met a few times through the years.

Kliph Nesteroff: What was Frank like?

Bobby Ramsen: Oh, Frank was just about the sweetest guy in the world. He had twelve kids. Yeah, a load of kids and just the sweetest guy in the world. I'd see him around every now and again in Yonkers. He had good friends in Yonkers and we'd have a few beers together. He was a family guy. He said to me backstage, "Keep to yourself, Bobby. [Gleason] is in a terrible mood today." I didn't even know Gleason, but I was there for a week because I went to rehearsal - but I didn't do anything. You may have heard this about Gleason - he never came to rehearsal.


So I didn't see him all week. He showed up the day of the show. He walked in, walked down the center aisle and the actor Barney Martin... who ended up playing Seinfeld's father... Barney would do all of Gleason's stuff during rehearsal. When Gleason showed up the day of the show - it was like he owned the theater with this bravura attitude. I heard a line about people that act like this - "They walk through life as though they're looking for a balcony." He walked down the aisle like that. He just stood there and Barney Martin went through the sketch that had a pratfall where he rolls out a window. Behind the set he would roll onto a mattress. Gleason wanted to avoid having to do that kind of a thing again and again and again. He wanted to just see someone else do it. And then he would do it just the once during the taping.


I saw Gleason when I was a kid at presentation houses on Broadway; The Paramount, The Strand, The Capitol. The Paramount was owned by Paramount. The Strand was owned by Warner Brothers. The Capitol was owned by MGM. Those three houses had stage shows. Big bands, singers, a comic. Sinatra made it at The Paramount Theater. I saw him there. I stayed for two shows and someone threw a penny onstage at him. Frank picked it up and said, "Only one kind of an animal throws a (s)cent." I stayed for the second show and someone threw a penny! "Only one kind of an animal throws a (s)cent." I said, "Oh. It's in the show." (laughs) That was a bit! But he was a big hit there. As a matter of fact, I saw him walking up Broadway because he used to walk from The Paramount to rehearsal at what is now The Ed Sullivan Theater. It was then Studio 54 on 54th Street, a CBS house with a marquee. Now you see it on television every night. Sinatra used to walk from the Paramount dressing room to Studio 54 to do Your Hit Parade. 


This was around 1944 and all of that happened so fast. Of course, all the young girls in the audience were paid to do all the yelling and screaming. The way his career was built was just unbelievable - but deservedly so. A voice like that only comes around once in a lifetime. He would walk the streets and I used to see him. Gleason used to play the smaller houses like the Loew's State, which wasn't as big as the other three houses. The Loew's State was also owned by MGM. Marcus Loew had owned Metro Goldwyn Mayer and Mr. Mayer technically worked for Loew's. He was on salary. A very good salary, but he did not own the film company. Marcus Loew and the theater people owned Metro Goldwyn Mayer. The government came along years later and put a stop to it saying, "This is a monopoly. Either you're going to be an exhibitor or you're going to be a production company." They remained a production company and sold all of their theaters. 


Getting back to Gleason. Kliph! Gleason was the worst stand-up you ever saw! The absolute worst! He had absolutely no material. All he had was an attitude and the bug eyes. He had that one take he could do. His big impersonation was Peter Lorre. He'd say, "You ever see that picture where Peter Lorre walks out and he says..." And he'd put on those bug eyes. "(In Peter Lorre voice) Did you get the information? Did you get the information?" That was Gleason's stand-up! That was the whole thing! Then I went to see him in a show - I think it cost me a dollar to sit in the balcony - it was called Follow the Boys. Gertrude Niesen, a big Broadway star, was in the show singing a song called I Want To Get Married. It just went on forever. The lyrics were a little risque and the audience would applaud. It was very good and very funny and Gleason was in a couple of sketches. He played a sailor. Kliph, this guy in a sketch was unbeatable. The difference between him doing his stand-up and seeing him work in a sketch? He was brilliant - and you can see that in The Honeymooners. As a stand-up... he wasn't very good.


Kliph Nesteroff: Right. I had heard that before.

Bobby Ramsen: There are only thirty-nine episodes of The Honeymooners. Just one season! Incredible! Of course, he brought it back when he did his other shows. The Honeymooners go to Italy and he thinks Arrevederci is an Italian guy after his wife. "Who is this guy Harry Devecci!?"

Kliph Nesteroff: And Art Carney so brilliant...

Bobby Ramsen: Oh, yes, the whole thing was just so marvelous. An absolute gem. You know - Rickles is doing Gleason. That's who he's doing. He's doing Gleason. Actually... you know who you should call? Please do this. Pat Harrington Jr! If you get a hold of Pat Harrington Jr. and ask him about the club that his father worked at. It was an insult club. People could not... it was on 52nd Street. I think it was owned by a guy named Fred Lamb. 


There were four guys up on the stage... four Irish comedians. Vince Currin, Pat Harrington Sr, a young Jackie Gleason and another guy. And they wiped everybody out! That's who Don is doing! That's who Rickles is doing! He's doing Gleason at this club that I'm talking about. And Pat Harrington Jr is the sweetest guy in the world. I did a couple episodes of One Day at a Time. 


If you call SAG and ask for the agency department - just tell them your name is Kliph Nemiroff and you have a job for Pat Harrington Jr. It is as simple as that. You'll get his number. You must ask him about him the place his dad worked on 52nd Street.

Kliph Nesteroff: Yes, that sounds amazing.

Bobby Ramsen: Crosby and Hope used to come in there and they'd be rolling in the aisles with the insults. It was strictly an insult club.


Kliph Nesteroff: Wow.

Bobby Ramsen: I said to Milton Berle at lunch one day - because growing up I wanted to be a comedian and I wanted to be Milton Berle. I asked him, "Who was your idol?" He said, "Healy. Dan Healy." The guy who put together The Three Stooges. They called it Dan Healy and his...

Kliph Nesteroff: Ted. Ted Healy.

Bobby Ramsen: Oh! Thank you. Yes, thank you. He did a million little movies. He was signed to MGM and he did a bunch of movies. Milton said Ted Healy and it was that same kind of attitude; the ballsy guy up on the stage. Ted Healy used to wear a hat, a fedora, with the brim up and had a certain attitude. Jackie Gleason had the same attitude.


Kliph Nesteroff: Around the same time you did the Gleason show, you did a pair of Ed Sullivan shows. Right?

Bobby Ramsen: There was. They were very difficult for any comedian. We got friendly with Ed, my wife and I, and we had dinner with him a few times. Very sweet guy, unassuming and always at the end of the meal he would say, "Sylvia, what am I going to have for desert?" And she'd tell him and order it for him. Always. Very nice guy, but something happened to every comedian that ever worked his show. He asserted himself at the expense of the comedian. He had Bob Precht, his son-in-law, and he was executive producer. Also a lot eye rolling when he came to you and told you that Ed wanted to see you. It always happened - and to every comedian. Every comedian! No matter who you talk to! Very few got away without a torturous afternoon and evening. 


He'd see you at the Copacabana and say, "I want that routine. I want you to do that routine on my show." So you'd get there and you'd do that routine at three o'clock for the rehearsal audience. No taping, you'd just do a run through of the show. And, invariably, ninety-nine times out of one hundred, Precht would come to you and say, "Ed wants to see you." To every comedian! You'd go and you'd wait. Bob would roll his eyes. You'd go in and see Ed. "You're not going to do that routine on my show tonight. Have you got anything else?" So, you'd give him something else. And whatever else you gave him, "That's what I want! That's good! That's what you'll do on my show tonight." No matter what you did! It happened to me twice - well, actually three times. There was one time where I was cut, but twice for sure I was told not to do what I did at the three o'clock show and it was a very difficult afternoon for several comedians. 


Kliph Nesteroff: Yeah, I had heard it from a few different sources.

Bobby Ramsen: Tony Martin, who is almost 99 years old, went through a period where he also did that to the comics on his [nightclub] show. He always had a comic open the show. From the wings someone would shout, "He's not ready yet. Do another five minutes!" Or worse - he would walk out after you had done ten minutes when you were supposed to do twenty or twenty-five and say, "Okay, that's enough. I'll take over from here." You never knew when he was going to want another ten minutes or ten minutes less or whatever.


Kliph Nesteroff: The first episode of Ed Sullivan that you did - on the same episode were Jack Carter and Totie Fields. Do you remember that?

Bobby Ramsen: Yes, I do remember that. Very well. Totie Fields, Jack Carter... anyone else?

Kliph Nesteroff: Al Hirt, Albert Roche, The Wallace Brothers and Tommy Cooper.

Bobby Ramsen: Tommy Cooper was an English comedian. You ever hear of a comedian named The Great Ballantine?

Kliph Nesteroff: Yes, from McHale's Navy.


Bobby Ramsen: Yes and he was wonderful. He did a comedy magician act where all the tricks go bad. Tommy Cooper stole his act. Anyway, I was at somebody's house and they had a tape of this gentleman who took Ballantine's act and kept working all the time in England. One night he was doing Ballantine's act and he died onstage. He had a heart attack and he died onstage. Somebody had a tape of that and showed it to me.

Kliph Nesteroff: There's an audio recording out there... I know it exists because Albert Brooks has a copy... of his father dying...

Bobby Ramsen: Yes! Parkyakarkus. He died at a Friars Roast. Yes, he played Parkyakarkus on The Eddie Cantor Show and that is so interesting. At that roast, while they were dealing with the collapse of Parkyakarkus, Milton Berle yelled over to Tony Martin. He said,"Tony, sing a song!" Well, Tony Martin's big hit was There's No Tomorrow! So he sang There's No Tomorrow! What an addendum to the story. Boy, oh, boy. Very talented family. Very inventive.


Kliph Nesteroff: I once spoke to Bob Einstein about this and over the course of the conversation I made the mistake of comparing his father, who was a regular on The Eddie Cantor Show, to another dialect comedian and Cantor regular - Bert Gordon. Bob got quite angry. I guess his father always resented Bert Gordon because people got the two of them confused. Neither Bob or his father thought Bert Gordon was particularly funny, so there was some resentment there.


Bobby Ramsen: Yes, well, I'm sure had you known it was a sore spot you would never have brought it up. But I could understand your mentioning it. You never know who is going to be sensitive to what. Dick Van Patten and I were good friends. He was a radio actor and we knew each other as kids. As child radio actors. We were about the same age. We used to walk the streets together in New York. We saw a guy who had too much to drink who fell down. He was lying in the doorway of some building across from Madison Square Garden. 


I casually said to Dick Van Patten, "This guy has had too much to drink. He's probably from the circus." I didn't mean any harm. Walking by was this little tiny guy with a wax moustache. I will never forget him. Impeccably dressed. He looked at us and he said to me, "This man is NOT with the circus. This man is NOT with the circus." He must have said it four or five times. He took such offense at it. I never forgot that. This man wanted to drive it home to me that this man was not with the circus. 

Kliph Nesteroff: Strange memory.

Bobby Ramsen: I was looking at an old Daily Mirror where they listed all the shows. There must be three hundred listings of dancers, singers, contortionists. I have an old one - with and ad of me at The Elegant Nightclub with George Kirby. Same page Don Rickles is opening the show for Jerry Vale at the Boulevard Club on Long Island and there was a stripper billed Rita Gable. Jerry married her.


Kliph Nesteroff: What was working with George Kirby like?

Bobby Ramsen: Well, this ad is a full body ad. It's a picture of me head to toe. Left hand billing - Bobby Ramsen and joining Bobby is George Kirby. That show... he never showed up. He never showed up. I did the gig. They put somebody else in. I guess it was the time when he started getting into... wasn't there prison time involved?

Kliph Nesteroff: Yes, for heroin trafficking.


Bobby Ramsen: Yes. Very talented and unfortunately that's what hurt him. He disappeared. And he did some stuff with Sammy Davis. I did a Bob Hope special. The Bob Hope Salute to the Palace Theater. Sammy was on that show and I was in a sketch with Milton Berle, Phyllis Diller and Sid Gould. The sketch took place in the jungle. George Burns was a guest on the show and I watched Bob Hope and George Burns rehearse what they were going to do that night. It was wonderful to see. They were giving it their all at two in the afternoon and loving every minute of it. The difference between their generation what we see now... well, those guys juggled. They tapdanced. They ballroom danced. They acted. They did comedy. They were so well-rounded with such a vast amount of experience behind them... It was a different kind of a thing.


Kliph Nesteroff: I have a clipping from an Earl Wilson column that says - 1967 - you were in attendance at a place called The Upstairs at The Downstairs for a salute to Gene Baylos - including Nipsey Russell, Joe E. Lewis, Totie Fields, Bobby Ramsen and Henny Youngman - and host Phil Greenwald. Do you remember that?

Bobby Ramsen: I do remember it. I am in a little state of shock. That stuff is out there fifty years later - that there's a place you can bring that up on your screen... it's so mind boggling and so wonderful. It's wonderful to hear. Earl Wilson was a very, very nice man. Came from the Midwest - married to a lovely lady. He hit it lucky in New York. He used to quote all the comedians. Earl's Pearls was one of the devices he used and he'd put a quote of a comedian's act in it. Press agents used to get a client and place something like, "Gene Baylos was at Jack Dempsey's last night. He said the crowd at Madison Square Gardens must be dressed in Saks Fifth... yadda, yadda, yaddda...." whatever the joke might be.


But that press agent would have Gene Baylos as a client, Jack Dempsey as a client, Madison Square Gardens as a client, Saks as a client! With the one joke he'd get four of his client's names in a column! There was a comedy writer named Jay Burton. He had this knack. He could write one-liners and he would feed it to a press agent over a cup of coffee and insert whoever the press agent was handling for a fee! Jay Burton was getting paid for this, but someone said to him, "Jay, why are you giving those away? You should be feeding them directly to Earl Wilson." So, sure enough, he did and then the items started to say, "Jay Burton the writer said the other night..." Soon he gets a call from Bob Hope! Hope says, "I've been reading your stuff in Earl Wilson's column. Jay, if you're ever in California, come to my house. I want to talk to you." That started a major comedy writing career.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Friday, November 25, 2011

An Interview with Jack Carter - Part Seven


Kliph Nesteroff: You said that Vic Damone was in your neighborhood growing up.

Jack Carter: Yes, he was my age and later we worked together a lot. In fact, when I had my first television show it was Vic Damone and a girl named Jan Arlen. A talented girl with a beautiful voice and a homely face. Not very pretty. Vic was just coming up then and had a beautiful voice. No personality at all. Dead cold. Dead cold. He could hardly talk to an audience in between songs. He was frightened to death. His face had fear on it all the time.

Kliph Nesteroff: April 1946 you played the Chanticleer in Baltimore.


Jack Carter: Chanticleer, yeah. There were two big clubs in Baltimore. The Chanticleer and the Club Charles. Club Charles played Jan Murray a lot and Eddie Garr, Teri Garr's father. He was a comedian. The Chanticleer was a cute little club. Baltimore was a good town then. My first job in show business was the Hippodrome Theater, which was rat infested, but I worked it with Major Bowes. My first job was at the Hippodrome in Baltimore and I got something like forty dollars a week. Cost a dollar for the room. At night I went to a club to see comics. I went to see a comic named Lee Marvin. Nothing ever happened with him. He was a big guy. There was a club called the 21. Later on I played it. But the big club there was the Club Chanticleer and The Club Charles. The Club Charles was noisier, bigger and hepper. Chanticleer was very elegant. I remember working it with a singer named Carl Revazza. He was a big, big star then. He used to sing a song, "The Princess Papaya has lots of papoolie - she likes to give it away." (laughs) I remember that. He'd start from the back of the room and sing his way to the front, which was unusual. He was a classy guy and a gorgeous, handsome man. Carl Revazza; just disappeared completely. Never heard much from him again.



Kliph Nesteroff: That comic's name was Lee Marvin - same name as the actor?

Jack Carter: Lee Marvin, yeah. He was like an emcee comic. Not really a comic. I tell ya, there were so many of them around in those days that told a few jokes and introduced the acts.

Kliph Nesteroff: Like a Jackie Heller?

Jack Carter: Yeah, kind of, but even more like a host. I worked Heller's club too. Kitty Davis' Airliner, my first job in Florida, and also the Apollo Theater over in Miami.

Kliph Nesteroff: Wasn't it an old vaudeville house?

Jack Carter: Yes, an old vaudeville house and I worked it with Edith Fellows, I remember. She just died. She married Freddie Fields and there was an acrobatic team on the show too. South Street in Miami. Then I worked Kitty Davis' Airliner. Kitty Davis owned it and Jackie Heller was the host there. That's when I first met him.


Kliph Nesteroff: I told you I have the advertisement for you playing the Kitty Davis club with... not Freddie Fields... Benny Fields?

Jack Carter: Benny Fields, yes. He was a poor man's Harry Richman - with the top hat and the old style songs.  His wife was a big star - Blossom Seeley. She was a giant. Bigger than Sophie Tucker and almost bigger than Belle Baker. But Belle Baker was the big one. Belle Baker was huge. Her son became a great writer, Herb Baker. He was one of the top writers of comedy, books and plays. Early Miami was marvelous and then all the hotels started having shows and there were big gambling places way out past Miami toward Hollywood, Florida. There was Green Acres, The Colonial Inn and they would all play four people on one bill - like Sophie Tucker, Joe E. Lewis, Harry Richman - all one show. They'd play giant names and it was big, bigtime showbiz. And big gambling until they killed gambling in Florida and that killed everything. The Gold Coast, they called it.


Kliph Nesteroff: What Vegas became is what Miami was.

Jack Carter: Yes. They just took it all away, yeah. And Atlantic City cut into that, but it was so drab. In between hotels it's so disastrous, like a war zone. I hear there are a couple of new ones now, but they take a terrible beating with the weather. I was performing there when a jet crashed with everyone on it at the Atlantic City Airport.

Kliph Nesteroff: 1946 - you played at the Rio Cabana in Chicago.

Jack Carter: Yes, that was a good club.

Kliph Nesteroff: You were with Frances Faye.

Jack Carter: Yes, I worked with her a lot. I worked Boston with her too. I worked for Ralph Snider and there was a restaurant there - a club on the roof and there was a club in the bottom bar where Jack E. Leonard worked. Fat Jack fell off the stage there one night. He fell into the pit.

Kliph Nesteroff: What happened? Was he doing a dance?


Jack Carter: I guess so. Something and he didn't see the edge and down he went. He nearly killed himself. Ralph Snider's. He was a nice man. One of the few times that there was a boss who I actually associated with. I was always scared to death of them. When I worked Bill Miller's Riviera I associated with Bill. That was the most gorgeous club in the world.

Kliph Nesteroff: Retractable roof.

Jack Carter: Retractable roof, on a cliff, on the ocean on the Palisades side. It was Ben Marden's originally; a big showman who had thousands of showgirls and big shows. Bill Miller, a nice man, took it over. He lived a long time. He was living in Palm Springs up until recently.

Kliph Nesteroff: Bill Miller was in show business first, himself, right? He was a tap dancer or something?

Jack Carter: Yes, I think so. Then he went to Vegas and he ran the Flamingo for a while.

Kliph Nesteroff: He booked The Sahara first didn't he? This is what Stan Irwin told me...

Jack Carter: Oh, yes, Stan was close with him.

Kliph Nesteroff: He told me that they couldn't compete with Jack Entratter at The Sands because Entratter had all the connections. So they brought in Bill Miller as his connections were nearly equal - and asked him to help book the Sahara, so they could properly compete with The Sands.


Jack Carter: Absolutely. I love Stan. He's a cutie.

Kliph Nesteroff: Still alive.

Jack Carter: I can't believe it (laughs)! You said he's ninety-three?

Kliph Nesteroff: Ninety-three... and someone told me that he's working at Costco.

Jack Carter: Which Costco?

Kliph Nesteroff: I don't know.

Jack Carter: God, I'd love to see him and talk to him.

Kliph Nesteroff: I have his phone number here somewhere.

Jack Carter: Yeah? That'd be great. He got me a lot of jobs. He booked me at the Sahara, I think. Yes, he and Bill Miller were very close. Bill used to call up and call around Vegas and check and see [how full each show was at competing hotels]. All the hotels would check. Bill Miller would lie, "We were packed twice!" And he would talk at the top of his voice, "Are you kiddin? I'm sold out! I can't handle it!" And it would be empty.


Kliph Nesteroff: Grab a pen - I'll give you Stan Irwin's phone number right now.

Jack Carter: Let me call him right now.

[Jack dials number]

Jack Carter: It says it's a blocked line. [Tries again]. It says it's a blocked line. Why would he have a blocked line? He's not that important.

Kliph Nesteroff: (laughs)

Jack Carter: It says the number that you're requesting is not available. I guess that means he's dead.

Kliph Nesteroff: (laughs)

Jack Carter: He doesn't exist. You're crazy. You made him up.

Kliph Nesteroff: I got his number from a guy named Milt Moss.

Jack Carter: Uh huh.

Kliph Nesteroff: And Milt's number was handed to me by Will Jordan.


Jack Carter: (laughs) My arch enemy. Will Jordan hates everybody. He was one of the first mimics who did Sullivan and he hated anybody else who did Sullivan. He got crazy. He hates me... he hates everybody. He killed himself with that hatred. Will Jordan, such a comedy joke. He disappeared like George DeWitt and the rest of the unknown mimics. I gave someone a list of mimics the other day. Was it you?

Kliph Nesteroff: Yes.

Jack Carter: Blake. Arthur Blake. He was the biggie. He did only women. He was a big, big fat gay guy. And Dean Muprhy was the king and Al Bernie was gigantic as a kid mimic. I forget who he even did. Then there was Frye... Frye...

Kliph Nesteroff: David Frye.

Jack Carter: Yeah.

Kliph Nesteroff: I have heard that Frye was... kind of nuts.


Jack Carter: Crazy. Completely insane. I had him on as a guest once on a TV show and we had to get rid of him. Everybody wondered why I hired comedians on my shows [when I was a comic myself]. Because they were great! I had everybody on. Jackie Miles. Phil Silvers. What did it matter? When it was over they'd say The Jack Carter Show was great. Milton Berle had everyone as a guest. The weeks I replaced Berle, he would never go away. He stood in the wings watching me. We had great stuff. My writer Ben Starr, I should call him, he wrote great stuff. He wrote departmental stuff. Like if we had Bob Crosby on. I would do Bing and we would do three scenes. When I had Chico on, I played Harpo and Groucho. Ben Starr would write these scenes that were so good. Milton would scream at his writers, "Why can't you write me that kind of stuff!?" "Because you wouldn't learn any of it, you idiot." He couldn't learn anything. 


He would abuse his guests and I would get them. I told you about that. I had Larry Klein and Ben Starr - brilliant writers. We'd sit and laugh. We couldn't write until the Sid Caesar show had sent in their stuff. That was another hold back. But we knew that on Monday night we would get a call from the William Morris office. "Would you like Rex Harrison? Would you like Bill Bendix? Would you like Basil Rathbone?" Like them? We'd love them! My guys would write, and I wrote too... we would treat our guests beautifully. They'd come in, they were comfortable and the sketches were perfect for them. They'd be happy. But the Liebman thing was something else and they ordered us not to write any comedy until they finished their show. I had Cesar Romero and we were doing Caesar and Cleopatra. They had Cedrick Hardwick on and they were doing Caesar - so we had to cut ours.


Kliph Nesteroff: Let's get the distinction defined between your early shows. Which were which. What was Dumont, what was NBC and what is the chronology. The Jack Carter Show on Dumont was - first?

Jack Carter: Cavalcade, yeah. Before that I had the minstrels. The ABC Minstrels. The real original... then I had The Dorsey Brothers Show. Jimmy and Tommy. That was on ABC. The Cavalcade was a big hit and then they brought me over to NBC.

Kliph Nesteroff: The Jack Carter Show and Cavalcade of Stars were two completely different shows on two different networks.

Jack Carter: Yes, The Jack Carter Show came later on NBC.

Kliph Nesteroff: The program on Dumont was never referred to as The Jack Carter Show.




Jack Carter: No, never. Cavalcade of Stars. I got them Gleason when I left. They tried Jerry Lester and he bombed. They tried Morey Amsterdam and they didn't like him. Finally I said, "There's a guy in New Jersey and he used to do films. He doesn't do any jokes, but he's a good sketch comic." They went out and saw him. He was working a joint called The Blue Mirror. A real dump. They hired him. I left them two good writers and they wrote sketches and they developed The Honeymooners. Although, The Honeymooners he stole from Phil Rapp. Great writer. He wrote the original Honeymooners with Don Ameche and Francis Langford called The Bickersons.

Kliph Nesteroff: Right, sure.


Jack Carter: That's what it was. The funniest show ever on radio. The bickering Bickersons was really the basis for The Honeymooners. Then he became lucky with Art Carney and the rest fell in line. Actually, who was the girl? Jayne Meadows' sister...

Kliph Nesteroff: Audrey.

Jack Carter: Audrey Meadows went into Top Banana with me when I replaced Phil Silvers on Broadway. I went in - and in four days I learned forty songs, dances, moves, comedy, everything. I never missed a beat and we ran for six weeks and then the air conditioning strike killed us and closed every Broadway show. My luck!


Kliph Nesteroff: The Jack Carter Show and Your Show of Shows was sold under one catchall title - The Saturday Night Revue.

Jack Carter: Saturday Night Revue and I broadcast out of Chicago, so for me it was tougher. We had to fly acts in and we had to fly sets in! There was only one costumer in Chicago. In New York you would have acts all over so it was easy. Luckily, in Chicago I had the Chez Paree to pick from. Tony Martin, Martin and Lewis - they were great on my show. On our very first show we were eight minutes short. We had a drunken director named Paul Arnold. He just drank and (growls), "Hey baby! Hey sweetheart!"

Kliph Nesteroff: (laughs)


Jack Carter: We were short eight minutes and I had to ad-lib! Luckily I had a monologue from my act that was around that length. On our first show we had George Raft who was scared shitless when he found out it was live, but we had cards in the wings for him to read and I had Cass Daley, a girl comedienne. She was funny. I put together a show and the band was atrocious; a real nothing NBC house band. My producer was a real... he looked like oatmeal...

Kliph Nesteroff: (laughs)


Jack Carter: With a tweed suit, I forget hit name now. We got rid of him immediately and then they sent me another bad producer and another one! They finally sent me the guy that Martin and Lewis used to kick around and played jokes on - Ernie Glucksman. He was from the Catskills. He was a poor man's Max Liebman and he was a sweet man. He was always with Martin and Lewis. They took him on the road and they took him everywhere. They loved him as a patsy. In those days all the comedians had a stooge. Jack Benny and George Burns had Irving Fein; they all had one. Killer Mac Grey - and Harry Crane was a big stooge for comics. He hung out with Gleason and he couldn't write shit! But he was funny talking. He was hysterical. Harry's recall on things old and Jewish humor was funny, but he couldn't put a word down! Yet he kept getting jobs as head writer. The writers would have to bring him stuff and he'd take it to Gleason.


Kliph Nesteroff: He was a legend in those comedy circles.

Jack Carter: Yes and he was a sweet man. Harry loved me. Harry adored me. He loved that I could sing and dance. I, alone, knew that Harry was a fraud and that he couldn't write. If somebody said, "Hello," he'd claim he wrote that. "I wrote 'Goodbye.' 'Good Morning.' I wrote that." Those are the jokes we'd crack about Harry. And he married an insane woman. His daughter married Warren Cowan - and she was kind of a slut. Her sister is a real whore. She got lucky marrying Cowan and she got into showbiz sort of. Morey Amsterdam got Harry Crane his first jobs. Morey took him under his wing and got him into Metro and got him an office out there to write for the stars when they went out on USO tours. But it didn't pan out and he lost that job.

Kliph Nesteroff: There was a comedy writer from that era that a couple of guys have told me was a fraud. A writer named Mort Greene.


Jack Carter: Mort Greene? Yes, they were a team - Foster and Greene. Yeah, Mort Greene was nothing much. The other guy was better - Foster.

Kliph Nesteroff: Bill Persky was telling me that...

Jack Carter: Ah, Persky and Denoff they were very good. Sam Denoff just died. He was a sweet man. He loved wine, he loved drinking, he loved parties... the greatest hate in their life was Marlo Thomas. Everybody hated her. She was the nastiest bitch that ever lived! When her show ended they did a roast of her and they tore her to shreds like you would to a man. A guy who wrote for me was there with Persky and Denoff when they tore her to shreds. She thought they were going to honor her and instead they wiped the floor with her. She was the meanest, nastiest woman who ever lived.


Kliph Nesteroff: Why? Because she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth?

Jack Carter: Yes, from Danny Thomas. Marlo Thomas. I get her name confused with Marlo Lewis, who produced Ed Sullivan. Who was the sister of Marlo Lewis? What was her name? She was a big singer back then. A little blonde. A pretty big name. I had a big affair with her, a big running affair with her. Marlo Lewis produced the show I did in Sun Valley Idaho with Louis Armstrong's band, and Sheila MacRae and Gordon. Marlo was the producer who took us all there. Somebody was up there recently and saw pictures of me on the wall.

Kliph Nesteroff: Yes, my friend Andy was there and said he saw them.

Jack Carter: I told you I fell off the lift up there? I got on the lift and it swung and dropped me into the creek!

Kliph Nesteroff: It was a TV special?


Jack Carter: Yes, it was a big special. It was an Ed Sullivan special. Marlo was the producer of The Ed Sullivan Show and they decided to do it in Sun Valley and you couldn't get Ed out of the room! He was freezing. He looked like he was frozen to death anyway, but we went to the top of the mountain. Louis couldn't play. "I can't get my chops open!" He couldn't get any air out because of the altitude. The air up there was so thin he couldn't blow.

Kliph Nesteroff: Speaking of comedy writers - that roast that you hosted - the first roast ever broadcast on television... Nat Hiken wrote and produced it.

Jack Carter: Yes, I knew him from around New York and The Phil Silvers Show. I knew him as a genius of a writer. He wrote a sketch I did where there was a woman that was this filthy, frumpy girl. Carol Burnett did it and then Nancy Walker did it on Broadway. Nat Hiken wrote the whole show on Broadway. There was [a Broadway trilogy]' One for the Money, Two For the Show and Three to Get  Ready. He wrote one of those. Davey Burns, a great comedian, was in it too. 


The man in the sketch is married to the filthiest, sloppiest woman that ever lived, but he thought he was gorgeous. (In gravely voice) "You're cheating on me! Yes you are! I know you are! I've seen you out there!" And she's sitting there with these frumpy bloomers hanging down, "Whaddaya talking about?" "Ah, you're a liar!" And he'd pull the shades down throughout the sketch in anger so that nobody could see her 'great beauty,' and she's so homely (laughs). And Nancy Walker did a great job. Nat Hiken wrote the sketch - and I forget the name of it. It was one word. "Surrender" or something. Later I tried it with Edie Adams, but she wasn't any good. I did it on my TV special. I did an HBO special called Top Banana based on the Broadway show for Michael Brandman. I had the Top Banana outfit and I did the songs. And I had a stripper that I was nuts about. She was so gorgeous. Birds would come and undress her. Birds would fly out and undo the straps - and her figure was incredible. And she was a virgin! Later on I saw her in Vegas and she had become somewhat of a bum. But I am digressing! I digress.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Hal Kanter 1918 - 2011... now what am I supposed to do with this phone number?

        
        Hal Kanter with David Zanuck. 1965.