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Remember the one-man barracks air battle in "Tars and Spars"? That man is here again!
by BETTY AND WILLIAM VMLLER
ONE evening not long ago, General Dwight Eisenhower was the l^uest of honor at a party where a U'oung entertainer did a Russian[English double-talk sketch that )rought down the house. Afterwards, le general graciously complimented le comic on his Russian. When the jatter confessed he didn't really know word of that language, Eisenhower lashed his characteristic grin. "Son," le said, "you certainly fooled this old lan that time!"
The comedian was Sid Caesar, and is double-talk has fooled many €ople, high and low. Although he oes not speak any language except nglish, he can give a perfect imitaion of almost any tongue, even ' lough what he says makes no sense /hatsoever. Once, for example, a acher of French heard him and relarked, "It's a bit difficult to underand you. You're speaking a proincial dialect, aren't you?" Actually, of course, Sid Caesar was , tlking pure double-talk but making it )me out sounding like French. , The same is true, in a degree, when ; imitates inanimate objects. Al.lough better judgment tells you ■ herwise, for a moment you're almost )nvinced that it's the real thing when ■d imitates an airplane, a taxicab, or '• slot machine. His famous airplane
routine in the film Tars and Spars went over so big that practically every American kid was trying his hand and tongue at the same thing for weeks after Sid's first movie was shown at local theatres. And now his amazingly realistic saga of a chewinggum slot machine nightly stops the show Md^e Mine 'M.anhattan, which is his first venture on the Broadway boards.
This hit musical revue, however, is by no means Sid Caesar's first appearance on the Great White Way. He made that eight years ago, when he was 17, and it was a rather less auspicious occasion. One day he walked into the Capitol Theatre and asked for the manager. Immediately, he was ushered into that gentleman's office.
"What's the complaint?" asked the manager.
"I've got no complaint," said the young Caesar. "I just want a job here."
The manager took a long second look at the husky, good-looking youth. "You're hired," he said. "Ushers get paid 15 bucks a week."
Husky and handsome, he got the job, which was a lifesaver to the lad from Yonkers. It paid him enough to continue his musical studies and go on with his dream of studying in Paris. Within a few months Sid's