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so RADIO WednfMsday, July % 1947 Carol Irwin *DRAMA' ON THE AIR By CAROL IRWIN (Producer of "The T/tcotre Guild on t/ifi Air'') As a fellow charterrinember listener to KBKA on a crystal set, you will agree with me that the more one- wrestles with radio the less one is certain to know about it. That does not deny the noble eitort of my former col- rising when the Hooperometer is down. (I am among the first in such a case to scream that the rating of a single program is insignificant, and Hoop is , iimong the lirst to agree.) ■ People who live and die by - individual weekly rat- ings are fools, inciudifig your' corre- spondent. :^rhe trend is, the thing." But Variety didn't ask mfe to write about league George Gallup to perfect a qual- itative (as opposed to' big nuinbers only) form of radio research. Nor does, it exempt my pride from rising when our show produces an up- rating, nor my blood pressure from radio research. it I knew enough, or had Jhe time, I could trace the fas- ciriatiOH of story telling from the primeval cave, via the troubadours, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Fielding, Dickens, Stein- becki to the last long lone soap^pera. People want to be told stories. They like them told in print, they like them told on the stage and the screen, they like to hear them on the air. So the networks and sponsors aim to oblige. Drama and music are currently running neck ajjd neck on the air, and together they overtop all the. other single categories of program. For the week of June 8, 1947, the : four major networks were carrying, on their weekly sched- ules, an assortment that looks like this: . MUSIC-T-T,otal of -131 hours, 15 minutes. , ' DRAMA--Total of 132 hours, 40 minutes. ^ . ^ Statistically ■ you. can't be much necker and' neek^r flian that A story told on the screen (if it. is a real buzzer like •♦•Bells of St. Mary's") may be seen by as many : as 80,000,000 people. A humble little workaday soap opera on the air may tell its story to 10,000,000 listeners a day, to 25,000,000 different persons a week (and on and up), or not bad.; I was not supposed to write about soap operas, but they are drama, and they illustrate how determined people are to be told stories tO; • Comparisons between music and drama on the air are invidious. Network advertisers have found musical pro- grams less rewarding than .other patterns except for a few music programs well-spotted following good preceding au- diences, played steadily for years, and endowed witli the strong backbone of an idea or a musical personality. The networks. haven't yet gone overboard for the juke-box lever, the platter-snapper who is the quarterback of the small independent station before and after hours, but it will be interesting to observe what occurs on the air with Pops Whiteman on ABC and with Kate on WOR, if she really spins.them. But I wasn't supposed to write about music, iand especially platter shows, was I? ■ Plugs Not for MnggB I Dramatic programs, if they deserve any listening at alT, command somewhat more concentrated listening, better say attention. That is why a sponsor figures that the listener is sharpened to a somewhat higher potential of-hearing the commercial, whether the sponsor is selling breakfast food, tires, insurance, or even (in terms of a whole comparfy) a certain general or specific philosophy, of life. Please ob- serve that the AFL, the CIO and' even the United Nations, are buying drama-radio as the most feasible method of bor- rowing the public ear for their doctrines. , The radio file marked C. Irwin will reveal my finger- prints on most of the forms of« drama, music and other con-, sternation on the air, from recordings and short, spots thr,ough morning, afternoon, evening and three-hour coloS- sals. I'm not showing my medals, please. AH I am getting at is that the . most: beguiling series of programs I have ever been associated with is Steel's Theatre Guild on the Air. Plug? No. Reasons? Reason: The constant search for and availability , of good material, a cross-section of the American theatre and plus the enticement of strong stars. They have helped make the TGOA a challenge, and fun, and maybe a contribution to radio. But whether they do or not, they bring up the topic of stars, which is a branch of the topic Drama On the Air. I am certainly for stars. They lend luster, shine, polish- but best of all, truly great trouping ability—to a di-amatie performance—in the following order:" (1), the performances tfiey turn in (2) their general reputations. If they do not turn in Number One, Number Two will backfire just as sure as sun-up. To offer on the air a star of major magnetism, and to have that star turn in a poor performance for any reason damages the public adoration of that star. More care in casting, more discrimination on the part of the stars and agents concerning their radio roles, could only improve the medium. But who asked me to talk about stars? . There is a strong prevalence, almost a fetish, amongst the agencies, the "expert" sponsors, and the equally expert net- works, that to do the "proven," the "surefire" things on the air, is the only starkly efficient stewardship of the Sponsor's advertising money. , " If an advertiser Is primarily concerned with the fast turn-"" over of a low-cost food or drug item, of which the consumer must be reminded (preferably with a hammer) as often as possible, that premise makes some sense. Impertinent query: does that type of advertiser recognize any public-service obligation in the program he offers; might']be profit even more by such recognition? Pertinent query: who asked me to write about public service obligations? It would seem that the commercially-sponsored programs that can be. considered, as offering not only solid public entertainment but also a certain mea.wre of public service (which I will not define) are sponsored by what some people carelessly describe as "concerns with nothing to sell," or as "extra programs" supplementing harder-selling mass- appeal vehicles. That impression is a lot of Coprolite. For no one yet has satisfactorily explored the qualitative Impressions made by specific commercial messages. No one can prove how many listeners were repelled by the . cheap and blatant, nor attracted by the modest. I've been in this business so long, have seen so many totems chopped down, so many taboos laughed into oblivion, that I am not at all sure that you cannot (which-probably me^ns that I am sure you can) sell soap with a program of Ihe maximum quality and ta.ste. (The Messrs^ Gilman and Ramsey will please relax; 1 know you've been, doing it.) The "boys who have been criticizing radio mostly don't be- WHO mm cod robin? By ALAN LIPSCOTT Who killed Cock Robin? "Z did," said the actor, ■ "With niu /ist, I smacktA her, . I /cilled Cocfc Robi«."' ' Okav copper. I'll talk. You .can call off your goons. You can put away that rubber ttose.- Call in your stenographer,- I'll confess'.' ■. ■•■ I'll start from the beginning. I was once an actor. I did a novelty act. I impersonated birds. 1 was considered . by all the vaudeville bookers as a satisfying opening or closing act. I Was the only bird impersonator to break the Arnaut family monopoly. Though I could impersonate the calls of, the thrush, the woodpecker and the titmouse, my specialty was impersonating the robin. Not braggin', I could impensonate the robin so naturally, one little trrrrill from me in December, and folks would take oH their longies and put on shorts. And then talkies killed vaudeville. For the next two years my bird calls were locked up in my esophagus. I tried night clubs, but my act was too quiet. When my bankroll gave out, I took a job in Harry's Bird Shop on Sixth Avenue, When a customer came in to buy a bird, he would point out the bird he wanted to me, and I would give out with a bird call to .ware him into the net. I felt like a black sheep in a slaughter-house. This job. was against my grain, so I quit. I was lonesome and' hungry. One Christmas I Called up Merle of Merle's Cockatoos. I thought we might have dinner together, but he already ate his act. - Then came radio. And then it suddenly happened. The script of "One Man's Family" called for a tweet of a robin.. The director auditioned 10 sound men,; but not one of them had ,it. They could trill but; they couldn't trrrrill. IJddie Sherinan, who booked. a lew people in the show, suggested me. ^ I auditioned and got the job. Maybe you heard me; The family was tramping through the woods looking for the firsV robin of spring, They were laughing and dancing and skipping and picking pflox and having a helluva time, when suddenly there was a hush. "Look Father Barbour." whis- pered Margaret, "there he ith, thitting on the thiCamore tree." And Mother Barbour, and Claudia and Penelope and Nickie and Joan and Jack and Penny and Cliff and Skippy and Betty clapped their hands and formed a daisy chain. And then on cue from the director in the contror booth, I stepped to the microphone, pursed my lips and"^ trrrrrilled. And. the director in the control room made a circle with his thumb and forefinger and I knew I was in. I must have trrrilled' very naturally, for the next day I got fan mail from a linnet, a bobolink and Kellie. Arnaut her- self. ■ I, Xobs. Came BoiUng Alone ' And then jobs started pouring in. Writers on all shows started writing in "Tweet of a robin,'' which meant me. When Lum woke up, Abner and said, "Wake up Lum, it's .morning," the sound m{in> opened the window, and you heard a Trrrrill. That was me. And in "Lea Miserables,'' when Fredric March stepped out of the .sewer,', he paused to listen to the trrrill of a, robin, which gave Charles Laugh- ton.enough time to catcb up with him. That robin was me. And so on and so on and so on. I became rich and fa- mous. Look gave me a spread and my habits were de- scribed in "Bird Life." I was a guest on "Hobby Lobby" and "We, the People." I was interviewed by Mary Mar- garet McBride, Hedda Hopper and Jimmy Fiddler. In time I became even more popular than Fred Allen's' eagle; Soon I started living the part. I would step up to the • mike wearing a red vest, a green frock coat and brown socks. In my home I installed a bathtub in a tree. And while others switched to Calvert I would drink only Thr^e Feathers. And then came Television! Woe was me! I had to agree with the director that even if I did wear a bird suit, X couldn't make the people believe I was a robin. And then I couldn't fly. Soqn my phone stopped ringing. Slowly my bankroll dwindled. A real robin took my place. And who owned and trained him? Merle! Fate listed him as Cock Robin. Soon I started to hate Cock -Robin. He had no right'to talce the birdseed out of my mouth. One night I met him at an AFRA meeting. When I saw him. some- thing snapped in my bird brain. I killed Cock Robin, That's my story, copper^ And while the stenographer is taking notes, might I add that I not only killed Cocfc Robin. 1 hated all birds. If you want to know: "Whp killed Lizzie Linnet? With a ftoist ond a tweak, . .: ■ , . I broke her bcnfc, I kxXXed Lizzie Linnet." And in the same way I killed Jenny':>Wren, Betsy Bobo- link, Lucretia Lark, Freda Finch and one morning I even knocked the stuffing out of Trudy Titwillow on a hat that .set on Tom Breneman's head. In every busjh, hedge and tree, 1,J was known to my little feathery ene'mies as "Mr. Bluebird." Yes sir, copper, Television made me what I am today. 1 hope it's satisfied. lieve it. But, Dear Editor, you did not ask !ne to pen a defense of commercial radio's frequent high quality, did you now? Okay; The Theatre Guild on the Air is (except for periodic minor exterior tornadioes in small pots) a highly satisfac- tory, looney and wonderful show to work on. Other radio programs have put plays on the air, but to the best of my knowledge tljis is the first to put on a full sponsored hour of stage plays of proven stature under so distinguished an aegis as the Theatre Guild. It is good to know that the Guild itself is now (after only two seasons on the air) better known to more people than at any past time in its 25 years of audacious play producing. The Guild's record is a fear- ful history, with Providence and the Witches at the wheel, agreeing on; almost no precept except a desperately high standard of quality, on a certain amount of belligerant ex- periment no matter how risky, on digging up new players, new composers, new playwrights, new choreographers, new designers. (And so many people think■ "Oklahoma!" was a ^cky blunder.) -.■ ; Tlie Thcati'e Guild f'otfay-; bless its warm heart .?nd its ar- tistically callouscid^ fingersj doe» not pretend to know quite as much about radio as .the Supreme Court knows about the Constitution, but it stands planted on a mighty wholesome grounding in the basic factors of story and performance, the latter preferably to be done by suitable tasting of proven excellence^ Too often this order' is reversed on the air: Stars Carries Turkey To Olympus/ PAIATABIE PlAfflR PALAVER By ABEL G^Em The come-uppance of the disk jockey is one of those .show business phenomena which comes under the head of history repeating itself. Yesterday's illustrated song slide may giv* way: to the telecast versions,.01 a "productioned"' pop tune,- "Peg &' My Heart" comes back 34 years later. And so the playing of phonograpti records, Which came in with Vaughn deLeath, the Happiriess Boys, The Revelers, Harry Reser's Cliquot Club Eskimos, the A&P Gypsies, the Silver-Masked Tenor, Wendell ("It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo' ") Hall, Coon- Sanders, and the rest of those memoraMet-pioneers, is being reprised. Of course the progression of time and showmanship is the something-new's-been-added. . That '^something new" is plenty, and it's adding fortunes to the 1947 crop of disk jocks who have the voice with the guile. Their ability to sell itioxtops to rooftops is the big difference, . Thus, the nomenclature "disk jockey" is fallacious. For today's platter chatter is more than a record-turner. That's, but incidental. Essentially they're showmen and sale.smen. The merchandising is what pays off whether it's Martin Block or Jack Eigefi, Ted Husing or Paul Whiteman, of any of the rank-and-filers, great and small, F . lt'8 Personality lihat: Conntg f; For today's disk jock is dominantly the personality whose usage of the disks is merely a means to an end. They possess the- knack ol> taking'^a set of platters, and, with their soft- soap selling and chatter, convert the platter-chatter into big business. It's^ecome so common to talk of astronomic in- comes for Block, Husing, Whiteman, Kate Smith, et al,, plus ■ the soon-due .Tommy Dorsey, ; that that's become almost ■'cliche.' . . Whether-the waxed programs by Bing Crosby had any- thing to do with it, psychologically and otherwise the 1946-47 season saw the heretofore lowly "canned" radio show acquir- ing new stature. The .showmanship of the disk jocks took care of the rest of it. By judiciously grouping certain types of songs, moods, artists, et al., the waxwork Belascos made it pay fancy dividends; And how fancy! It's a bit of shock to take stock of the fact that, on top of the Berlin hit, expen- sively exploited by him and/or his film and/or stage pro- ducer; on top of the Crosbys and the Deccas and all the other creative, exploitive and merchandising assets, along ; comes a disk jock and, from what is apparently a casual turntable chore, there results a jackpot payoff; The radio stations from coast-to-coast sell time like it was rationed; sponsors kick in cooperatively into fantastic sum totals; and the platter chatterer collects for his spiel like Churchill for his memoirs. The songsmith, music publisher, name band- leader, and disk company collect meagerly as compared to the loot that comes to the radio station and disk jock when they collaborate on spieling their wares over, a; set of phono- "graph records. But it adds up to thi.s: the disks are merely a convenience and a device for palatable palaver between giving out the latest by Dinah or Bing, TD or the Vercc; If the palaver sells—as it must—the personality callects like the Irish Sweepstakes. It's; nice work;, and very profitable, if your heart-to-heart sm^U-talk moves the merchandise. M the World's a Tele Sla^e By OWEN DAVIS, JR. All the world is our stage and the talent will make the shows. 1 was lucky enough to be born in the theatre; played some 200 weeks of stock, 15'Broadway shows—the same number of Hollywood Epics ("AH Quiet" to "Knute Rockne, All American") and hundireds of acting jots in radio. After three and one-half years with Unfile Sain, I found myself behind a desk at NBC Television as talent director, I realize daily that all the past is making it possible for me to dp a good job. I understand and appreciate actors and their problems, and they are my friends—even after salary huddles. We are going to need a lot of actors in television, and their value to us depends more on their talent than it does oh their experience. It doesn't matter so much whether they have learned their business in the theatre, or in radio, or on the sound stage of a picture studio; what we really want are actors who can act. Good actors will "write the book" in television. I mean actors—the "tip to toe" kind—not those «who have learned how to do tricks with their, voices. Sure—the stage actor has the inside track. The ability to work without a script clutched in the proverbial fist, and project a. character with the whole body is .pur bet. Also, if they know 'enough to play the play and not grandstand'. Lpoks and personality will, of course, pay Off—but we want talent. Years ago, Richard Bennett, during two-year as.socia- tion ("The Barker'' and "Solid South"), preached to rrie. "great parts make great actors." I don't believe it. I al.So heard Wallace Eddinger (the most skillful farceur 1 ever saw) say "Monkeys can do it as well as men." (I don't think he believed it.) _ Many actors have enthused to me about the personal satis- factaon they get from playing a part on television. They appreciate the kick an actor gets out of creating a character. Some of them actually requested that they play a small part for their first television shot. That's O.K.! But really we have no bugaboos, if they are properly cast, and do a good job, it will be a good show. I think the televiewer watches with real coneentraied attention. Therefore, variety in method and change of pace have value—but. any good actor knows'this instinctively, -; Even now WNBT is a good showcase. Pretty Ann lri.sh played a few parts for us and a Columbia Pictures .scout saw her and she is now on. their Hollywood pa.vroll. It pleased me when'John Golden offered parts to three mem- bers of one of our play.s. All's fair and we'll be watching Broadway—the strawhat' oijsuit—ISquity Library shows—the American Academy and "all the world" lor talent.