Radio varieties (Sept 1940-June 1941)

troduction to a girl who was to win sudden and spectacular success in the films, but it served to point up the Cantor contention that radio goes too fast nowadays to permit dawdling continuity. "Crack that knee, will you please," says Eddie lifting his right leg to the man in the white jersey. The masseur obliges, the knee cracks, Eddie continues: "I'll tell you another thing that has changed for the better. Comedians are broadcasting now for the listening audience and not the studio audience. The boys who made people scream in the studios are not on the air anymore. Actors don't harp on Hedy Lamarr or Bing Crosby's horses to raise a laugh. Nowadays they cater to the homes. No comedian has a right on the air unless he can see in his mind's eye the Nebraskans, the Alabamans, the lowans and all the rest." At this point Bunky steps silently in view. Bunky is an old time vaudeville trouper who gave Eddie his first job. Cantor, as a youngster, worked for Bunky (the Arthur of Bedini and Arthur) as a black face juggler, becoming one of the first stooges in vaudeville. Bunky is now the comedian's allaround man. He stands before him now to point a thumb in the direction of the living room. Eddie understands' the song pluggers are here on their daily visit. He slips on a bath robe and goes in to meet them. There are three of them. Perfunctorily they cluster around the little upright in a corner. One sits at the piano; another, holding a little sheet of music, sings; the third, the publisher, stands by following the score. Eddie stands close to me singer, facing him. It's a marching song about a young man who is drafted and goes to camp. Eddie listens attentively, tapping one foot in time with the music. He hears several choruses and then there is a pause for the verdict. "It's got a good title, boys, and it shows thought. But I don't believe you have scratched the surface. This is straight stuff. It's factual. You've got to be comical, very comical. The way to make a hit is to make people laugh." Eddie, who will draw parallels at the drop of a hat, gave as on illustration his famous 'Potatoes Are Cheaper' song. He sang for their benefit one refrain.' 'You're not a Taylor or Gable, But Do What You're Able.' "You hove got to have a first act curtain at the end of each chorus. I think you can piinch it up. Work it over and see me in a couple of days." The pluggers get the drift and leave. Eddie, still humming the tune, sits down at a bridge table for his first meal of the day. Bells begin to ring: the door bell, the r"*"'^ Eddie Cantor keeps in trim by taking a plunge each morning in his private pool on his California estate. phone, but the busy little man goes ahead with his meal, taking in order orange juice, figs on drycereal, cream cheese, milk and a spot of vanilla ice cream. Distractions notwithstanding, the comedian's mind is still on radio. Particularly his new show, "Time to Smile," which is presented from NBC's studio 8-H, from whence he broadcast the first comedy program to emanate from Radio City. It was on the occasion of dedication of NBC's present headquarters in 1933. Of his new discovery, Mrs. Waterfall (Maude Davis), Cantor says: "She has a better sense of timing than any woman I have RADIO VARIETIES JANUARY worked with in my life." Of Harry Von Zell, his announcer, he says: "Unquestionably t h e greatest announceractor-comedian in the business. When he makes a mistake it's an improvement over what you've got." You talk about straight men and Eddie is reminded anew of the progress radio has made. When he first started in radio he horrified sponsors, he tells you, by suggesting that the commercial be said by the comedian's straight men, just as Von Zell is doing today. It took almost a decade, he says, for sponsors to appreciate the value of incorporating the plug for the product in the running dialogue rather than to set it as something apart. Eddie was ahead of his time and in any review of the history of radio comedy his name will be preeminent as a pioneer who helped develop it. He was the first to go out of his way to find new talent and develop it (Bobby Breen, Deanna Durbin, Parkyakarkas). He was the first to do a preview of his program before submitting -it to-a nationwide audience. He was a pioneer in admitting the public to his broadcasts, rather than reserve the privilege to a handful of friends of the sponsor. These and other innovations have helped radio comedy progress. You ask him about the future of radio comedy and he answers: "There will be an avalanche, an epidemic of laughter. We need laughter as much as we need music, education and the news of the day. Laughter is a balance very necessary m these times. You will hear more and more laughter because people will be afraid NOT to laugh. If the dictators didn't suppress laughter they wouldn't have a chance, because laughter makes a people relax and think. As long as we can laugh, we're safe. There have been substitutes for oil, for food and clothing, but never has there been a stibstitute for laughter. There has yet to be an ersatz laughter. Laughter is the most important thing in the world today. It is the oxygen tank to keep Americans alive today." Poqe II