“I wanna tell ya—I’m thrilled to be here!”

One night in 1973, legendary comedian Bob Hope sneaked into the NBC studios to attend a taping of The Dean Martin Show, where fellow mirthmaker Don Rickles (who we sadly said good bye to this month) was appearing.  The studio audience applauded wildly upon spotting Hope, and when the applause had died down Rickles cracked: “Well, the war must be over.”  Despite a lengthy show business career that encompassed stage, screen, radio and TV, the jokester born Leslie Townes Hope in 1903 established a legacy “performing United Service Organizations (USO) shows to entertain active duty American military personnel (he made 57 tours for the USO between 1941 and 1991),” as referenced at Wikipedia.  I don’t have the quote handy (nor can I give proper attribution, sad to report) but the old joke went something like “It’s not officially a war until Bob Hope shows up.”

Bob Hope’s dedication to “entertaining the troops” had its origins in radio, when on his May 6, 1941 broadcast he performed at March Field, California.  Hope never wavered from his earnest belief that “GIs are the greatest audiences in the world,” and I take him at his word that he was sincerely enthusiastic about the goodwill that resulted from his many trips overseas.  But a comedian also thrives on being loved and adored, and a complicated man like Bob (once described by his one-time manager Elliott Kozak as “the most self-centered man” he’d ever known) no doubt fed on the approval from what he admittedly referred to as “captive audiences.”  (My comedy idol Fred Allen once joked that his rival “reeked of” self-confidence.)

Santa, Linda Bennett, Dick Albers, Ann-Margret, Bob Hope

Hope’s television specials performing on USO shows at Christmas time were always tops in the ratings, and this May 2, Time Life is releasing a three-disc DVD set, Bob Hope Salutes the Troops.  My pal Michael Krause at Foundry Communications was generous enough to send me a screener, which features six telecasts that originally aired between 1963 and 1991.  I should be honest: I had reservations about watching these shows—not due to any political differences (though I can state with confidence that Bob and I have differing views with regards to Vietnam), but because I remember watching the entertainer’s small screen specials in the past and wondering why the man whose movies I adored as a kid (and still do) no longer seemed all that funny.  As author Kliph Nesteroff posits in The Comedians: Drunks, Thieves, Scoundrels, and the History of American Comedy:

By the mid-1960s Hope was one of the wealthiest men in America and one of the largest private landowners in California.  Radio star, television star, movie star—he’d achieved every possible show business goal.  There was nothing left.  And without ambition driving him, the quality of his comedy plummeted.  He was still doing up to six television specials each year, but he was phoning it in.

Dolores Hope (in green) welcomes her husband's troupe home in 1969; Hope's philandering was legendary in the business, and some say he went overseas in the first place so he could fool around out of sight of Mrs. Hope.  (Incidentally, you might recognize that couple to Dolores' right.)

Bob channels Maynard G. Krebs.

Despite the questionable quality of his TV work (his dependence on cue cards, uninspired writing, etc.) I found a few nuggets among the dross.  The earliest special on this set is from January 16, 1963, as Bob and his troupe entertain audiences at nearly a dozen military bases in the Pacific.  Lana Turner is the big draw here, dancing the Bossa Nova and trading quips with Hope in a sketch that casts her as a captive in the clutches of an Asian warlord (Bob), but Janis Page is also in Bob’s entourage (she plays a counterculture chick in a WTF sketch with Bob as a bass-playing beatnik), as are singer/future orange juice pitchwoman Anita Bryant and Amedee Chabot—Miss USA at the time.  (Hope’s tendency to feature plenty of females in his shows was later satirized in the “Playboy bunnies” sequence in 1979’s Apocalypse Now.)  Hope’s radio sidekick, “Professor” Jerry Colonna, and Stan Freberg regular Peter Leeds handle much of the comedy along with Bob, with music by Les Brown and His Band of Renown. 

Lana Turner, Les Brown, Bob

I have always admired Les—not just because he began with Hope in his radio days (Les also brought along his band’s female vocalist, Doris Day), but because he was seemingly able to play Thanks for the Memory over and over and over again all those years without getting sick of it.  He figures in a funny exchange with Bob and Lana:

BOB: Les, have you been making overtures to Miss Turner?

LES: Bob…I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my career…

BOB: You wouldn’t, eh…well, have you been making goo-goo eyes at Miss Turner?

LES: Bob, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my career…

BOB: Was that you in the hall in the hotel last night singing Fly Me to the Moon through her keyhole?

LES: Bob, I told you—I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my career…

LANA: Les…honey, why don’t you meet me after the show and we’ll have a nice, long talk…?

Brown glances at Bob…then glances at Lana…then breaks his baton in two, hands it to Bob, and walks off the stage arm-in-arm with Lana.  Doris Day credits Bob Hope with teaching her everything she knows about comedy, and it’s nice to see Les stuck around for a few classes, too.

Show business nepotism: a young soldier asks Bob if he can take a photo of one of the girls for the camp newspaper.  (That solider is Tony Hope, Bob's son.)

Peter Leeds then informs Bob there is no camp newspaper.  ("It's too piercing, Bob...too piercing.")

A January 15, 1965 telecast is next in the lineup—with Paige, Bryant, Colonna, Leeds and Brown all returning.  (Bryant attempts to seduce a pair of MP’s with You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You, which made me chortle considering her later morality crusade.)  Jill St. John, Hope’s co-star in 1967’s Eight on the Lam, leads off the eye candy in this one; there’s even an amusing exchange (and a prescient one) in which Jill answers Bob’s query as to how an intelligent girl like her (she had an I.Q. of 162) could play so many daffy redheads in the movies.  “Isn’t it ridiculous?” Bob asks her.

Something new has been added in the form of TDOY fave Jerry Colonna.

“Well, you’re still playing romantic leads—aren’t you?” St. John shoots back, echoing a concern many critics noticed at the time.  (St. John returns to make a guest appearance in a January 17, 1972 special; she’s fresh off the set of Diamonds are Forever, the 1971 James Bond film in which she played “Tiffany Case.”)  To me, the star of Hope’s 1965 Christmas special is the madcap Colonna; there are three routines featuring him and Bob in this telecast, all resonant of the splendid work they did during Hope’s radio years.  Bob, doing a monologue, notices that Jerry is reclining on a coach in the audience:

BOB: Pardon me, sir, but—who are you?

JERRY: I’m the base psychiatrist…

(Wild applause from crowd)

BOB: Well, you don’t look like a psychiatrist to me—I have a hunch you’re a fraud!

JERRY: That’s me—Sigmund Fraud!

BOB (to the audience): I think he shrank his own head… (To Colonna) What are you doing on a couch in my audience?

JERRY: Can you think of a better place to sleep?

A nice moment: Bob gets a hug from his son Kelly, who's stationed at a nearby base.  (Bob: "He's in civvies...I hope he's not AWOL...")

Ann-Margret

The Bob Hope Christmas Special: Around the World with the USO (01/16/69) is a great little special, and its appeal can be summed up in two words: Ann-Margret.  (Or is that one word?)  My Dad, not a Hope fan by any measure of the yardstick, has had a thing for Ann for many, many years (he often jokes that they “went to different schools together”) and Ann is entertainment with a capital “E” performing Dancing in the Streets.  My favorite part of this telecast, however, is Bob and The Golddiggers’ rendition of Perfect Gentleman—the show-stopping musical number performed by Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom in one of my favorite movie comedies, The Night They Raided Minsky’s.  Also appearing in this one are Linda Bennett (a one-time child actress who worked with Bob in The Seven Little Foys), ex-football-player-turned- warbler Rosey Grier, Penny Plummer (Miss World), and Honey, Ltd…as well as ol’ reliable Les and his Band.

I wasn't able to get a better screen grab of this...but that old fossil is four-star admiral John Sidney "Jack" McCain, Jr.  His son is John III, currently the senior U.S. Senator from Arizona...and also an old fossil.

Les, Bob (not less Bob)

Despite the approval of Bob’s “Christmas with the Troops” specials with TV audiences, the entertainer eventually found that the unpopularity of the Vietnam War discouraged a lot of entertainers from taking him up on an offer to hit the USO circuit—not to mention his own views on both the controversial conflict and the rise of the counterculture back home.  (Some of the bases began to reject the idea of the comedian performing there, and a 1969 appearance in Long Binh found the crowd of soldiers flipping the cameras the bird and giving power salutes.  None of this was shown on American TV, of course.)  But the celebrity wattage had dimmed a bit by the time The Bob Hope Christmas Special: Around the Globe with the U.S.O. aired on January 17, 1972.  This is the show that Jill St. John makes a guest appearance on, but the lineup includes luminaries such as Don Ho (three guesses as to what he performs—the first two don’t count), baseball’s Vida Blue, and former astronaut Alan Shepard.

They pre-empted The NBC Wednesday Night Mystery Movie for this?  Snoop Sisters fans revolt!

Redd Foxx, Bob

It’s fitting that Bob closes his time in Vietnam with a January 17, 1973 telecast that comes to a wow finish with a duet of Cabaret with Lola Falana and a nice retrospective of all the celebs who appeared with Hope on his past USO Christmas specials.  (It’s not all peaches and cream—the comedian is still doing stale jokes with people like football’s Roman Gabriel.)  But there is an amusing sketch with guest Redd Foxx (I’ll bet NBC put a gun to his head) that’s worth the price of admission:

BOB: Come on—crank it up and let’s get started here, huh?

REDD: Okay…if you want to work a man who’s old and…sick…and tired…

BOB: If you’re sick, how did you get in the Navy?

REDD: Instead of a physical, they gave me an autopsy…

BOB: Hey—can you imagine giving a man with my I.Q. a job like this?

REDD: Well, what’s your I.Q.?

BOB: Twenty-three…

REDD: Twenty-three?  I didn’t know you were a college man…

I realize I'm the only one who's going to find this amusing...but this lookalike duo from Louisville, KY are Cyb and Tricia Barnstable.  The twin sisters were later regulars (as The Bettys) on the short-lived sci-fi sitcom Quark.

Khrystyne Haje, Bob

Included on Bob Hope Salutes the Troops is a January 12, 1991 special, Bob Hope's Christmas Cheer in Saudi Arabia.  With a war everybody liked (well…almost everybody), Hope was able to persuade some big names to appear in this one: The Pointer Sisters (they sing I’m So Excited), Marie Osmond (Crazy), Ann Jillian, and Khrystyne Haje (Head of the Class), who does an amusing routine with Hope (I noticed that Bob, now in his late eighties, has cut back considerably on the leering with regards to his female guests) in which he mentions her environmental activism and in particular, her commitment to the California redwoods.  “You planted them…the least the rest of us could do is try and preserve them,” she cracks, producing a king-sized titter from your humble narrator.  Country singer Aaron Tippin is mentioned in the opening credits of this one though he’s nowhere to be found in the special…which is a shame, since they could have snipped a rather unfunny exchange between Bob and Johnny Bench and let Aaron do a tune or two.  Mrs. Hope, Dolores Reade, is also on hand; she was Bob’s only “Christmas cheer” in Saudi Arabia because the government wouldn’t let the other women in the country (they performed on U.S. naval vessels along the coast).

Ann and Bob duet on The Two of Us in the 1969 special...

...and Bob and Ann Jillian reprise the tune in 1991.

Barney Dean (behind Bob), Jerry, Tony Romano (behind Frances Langford), Patty Thomas

A bonus feature, Bob Hope: Memories of WWII, is also included on the Salutes the Troops collection; first airing in 1995, the Hopes reminisce about Bob’s early years “doing his bit” for WW2 and his first USO tour.  Frances Langford and Patty Thomas are also on hand…though curiously, they’re never shown in the same shot as Bob and Dolores despite it being edited as if they’re all having a conversation.  (For a real reunion between Bob, Frances, Patty, and guitarist Tony Romano check out the DVD Entertaining the Troops, which I reviewed here at the Radio Spirits blog.)

If you’re a fan of classic television, Bob Hope Salutes the Troops is a disc you’re going to want in your collection; it’s the kind of variety special that they literally don’t make any more, though my strong advice would be to watch these telecasts sparingly as Bob likes to recycle jokes from time to time.  Considered by many to be the greatest entertainer of the 20th century, the comedian demonstrates that through his tireless efforts overseas for many so far from home “there was no one like Hope for the holidays.”

Book Review: W.C. Fields for President

Godfrey Daniel!  If it seems rather coincidental that this week’s Thrilling Days of Yesteryear book review earned a berth on the blog post schedule due to last week’s essay on Sally of the Sawdust (1925) …well, you’re half-right.  I mostly timed this to coincide with Election Day tomorrow, when our long national nightmare will be over…and the serious drinking can begin.  (So it’s understandable that I would think of Fields.)

I’ve tried to be good and not rant about politics on the blog this year (if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, however, those outlets honor no such rule—which has not endeared me to some of my social media colleagues) but whatever side of the fence you’re on, I think we can agree that our rotted-with-corruption political system has saddled us with two of the most unpalatable president candidates in the history of the republic.  As such, any respite from this horrible contest—be it baseball or the 50% off Criterion sale at Barnes & Noble—should be welcomed with more than just open arms…it should be invited into the house and bade sit a spell.  (There are a couple of Blu-rays calling my name at Kino-Lorber, where they’ve considerably marked down some noir titles.  Better luck next time, B&N.)

A month or so back, I got a heads-up from BookBub that the Kindle edition of W.C. Fields for President was on sale for $1.99.  So, I plopped down two wrinkly dollar bills for the privilege of reading musings from one of my comedy idols.  (Had I not already voted via absentee ballot, I might have written in The Great Man as my candidate of choice.)

William Claude wrote his presidential manifesto in 1940—the same year that his former movie nemesis Gracie Allen (from International House and Six of a Kind) also threw her chapeau into the ring as a candidate for the Surprise Party (insert gratuitous Radio Spirits plug here).  It’s been reprinted many times in the interim (in several editions as, if I may quote friend of the blog “Mr. Television,” an actual book), because its parody remains timeless.  “I am truly a candidate with both feet on the ground,” Fields writes in President.  “I take no fol-de-rol from any man, much less any fiddle-faddle.  And when, on next November fifth, I am elected chief executive of this fair land, amidst thunderous cheering and shouting and throwing babies out the window, I shall, my fellow citizens, offer no such empty panaceas as a New Deal, or an Old Deal, or even a Re-Deal.  No, my friends, the reliable old False Shuffle was good enough for my father and it’s good enough for me.”

What I have always revered about The Great Man is his love of the English language (I’m constantly using Fieldsian exclamations in real-life, like “Mother of pearl!” and “Suffering sciatica!”) and it’s this affection for words that makes W.C. Fields for President an entertaining read.  The book is divided up into several sections:

1. Marriage: Since approximately half the population of the United States is made up of the fairer sex, any President worthy of the name should be familiar with the intricacies of the matrimonial problem—unless he wants to change his residence from the White House to the château de la chien (doghouse).

2. Income Tax: The major responsibility of a President is to squeeze the last possible cent out of the taxpayer; thus he should be at least familiar with the intricacies of the ransom notes that the Internal Revenue Department sends out each spring.

3. Resolutions: If the chief executive is not an expert in the art of making resolutions, how can he hope to break his (Ivan’s note: Or her) campaign promises gracefully?

4. Etiquette: At a state dinner, should the Nazi ambassador be served Chateaubriand a la Marseillaise?  Failure to understand this delicate question might well plunge our nation into war.

5. Physical Fitness: There is no room in the White House for a man who is afflicted with barber’s itch, spots before the eyes, hang-nails or housemaid’s knee.  A President must now how to keep himself fit—else who would throw out the first ball at the Washington Senators’ opening game?

6. The Care of Babies: Shall didies be folded square or triangular?  This is the burning question of the day, and the better the candidate understands the little darlings, the more competently he can decide the issue.

7. Business Success: If he knows nothing else, a President should at least understand the secret of success in the business world.  For, after all, what is the Presidency but a glorified business—or, at least, a fine racket?

Topicality in comedy is always endangered by an expiration date…so some of the humor in the Fields book doesn’t wear well (the Nazi ambassador gag is a good example) and there are inarguably jokes that will sail over the heads of readers who took a lot of naps in their high school history classes.  But as Shakespeare wrote in King Lear: “Jesters do oft prove prophets.”  There is much truth in W.C.’s political humor, including one of my favorites: “At any rate, here is my best advice on the matter of deductions: just count off on all your fingers all the items you suspect might be deductible…and then forget them, because they aren’t.”

This latest edition of W.C. Fields for President was re-released in February of this year from Taylor Trade Publishing (Rowman & Littlefield) and features a foreword by the “Raconteur to the Stars,” Dick Cavett.  I have a lot of respect for Dick, but I’ll admit he doesn’t endear himself to me whenever a major celebrity passes on…because they usually collar Cavett for a TV program to remember the deceased and he has difficulty shutting the hell up when needed.  But this bit in Cavett’s introduction did produce a rather audible snicker: “The late Dorothy Kilgallen, best known for being the ‘What’s My Line?’ panelist who reportedly punched a tiny hole in her blindfold to more easily identify the ‘Mystery Guest’ before anyone else could…”  (I laughed at this—and I realize this is going to make me sound like Cavett—because it reminded me of an observation Fred Allen once made to a friend about Kilgallen and Arlene Francis on Line: “They really want to win this thing!”)  Dottie wasn’t a fan of Fields, remarking “Friends keep telling me how funny W.C. Fields is.  I looked at two of his movies.  He is not funny.”

I suspect Kilgallen would get on famously with my mother—as for me, I agree with Mr. Cavett that Dot’s observation vies for “Dumbest Remark Ever Made About A Comedian.”  (Though Dick’s memory is jogged by a letter received at The Jack Paar Show—where he toiled as a joke writer—from a viewer asking why Paar kept inviting Jonathan Winters on.)  My point—and I do have one—is that if you’re a fan of W.C. Fields, you will love this book.  If not…well, I can’t help you.  In the immortal words of our candidate: “Remember, folks, cast a vote for Fields and watch for the silver lining.  Cast several votes for Fields and watch for the police.”  I thank you.

The Return of the Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™!

Thanks to loyal member of the Thrilling Days of Yesteryear faithful Barry, who was gracious enough to alert me to DISH Network’s new Flex Channel package, Tee Cee Em has made a triumphant return to The House of Yesteryear.  There are not enough words to adequately express my joy at this turn of events.

The way the Flex package works, you start with a basic tier of fifty channels—one of which is my beloved Turner Classic Movies.  You can then add additional packages according to your whims…or the whims of your family, as the case may be.  (If it were solely my decision, I’d be Encore Channeling and Movie Plexing all up in this bitch.)  “This is the closest thing to à la carte so far,” Barry explained in a follow-up comment.  “I could cut my bill by more than half: just add the News Pack (FBN and Bloomberg for wife), Encore (westerns for me), and dump the locals (I have an antenna and Windows Media Center).  I only wish AMC were in an extra package so I could have the satisfaction of dumping them too!”  The way this deal worked out for Rancho Yesteryear almost makes me regret the terrible things I’ve said about DISH in the past.  (Almost, that is.)

I had to add the Locals package to ensure we’d still receive our local channel lineup (my father has somehow convinced himself that if he watches WSB-TV’s newscasts at noon, four, and six o’clock there will be a tremendous change in the content), and the News package (also for Dear Old Dad) because he needs the newsreaders at MSDNC—or to use the longer nomenclature, the Hillary Clinton Pantsuit Politburo—to continually convince him HRC is not a terrible candidate.  Finally, as a nod toward mi madre, I added the Regional Action Network package—which carries both the SEC and Fox Sports South channels—so that she never goes hungry again (as God as her witness) missing out on her beloved Braves, Hawks, and Georgia Bulldog games.  (When I presented this proposal to Mumsy, she picked up her cellphone and threw it at me—yelling “Call them!  Now!” A day after we initially whittled down the package, Mom had more regrets than a Brexit voter.)

The package isn’t perfect.  I’m still out GetTV, and I lost RT America, the channel that carries my favorite satirical political comedy show, Redacted Tonight.  (This last one is no biggie; I can watch the episodes online via YouTube.)  When I sat down in Count Comfy von Chair to explain the new setup to the Laird and Master, my Mom started waving me off like I was trying to steal home.  I waited until Father had to answer the call of nature, and then I asked her: “Why don’t you want me to tell him about this?”

“He’ll figure it out sooner or later,” she replied.  I then pointed out that he’ll certainly notice it when we get the cable-internet bill but she was way ahead of me: “He’s not going to see it,” she assured me as she tented her fingers while a white cat leapt into her lap.  Twisted and evil!

Will the return of TCM affect the new direction of the blog?  I’m determined that it will not.  Thanks again to Barry for having my back, and I hope all you cartooners have a wonderful weekend.

Crime does not pay (as well as it used to) #7

In December of last year, I had accumulated a few bonus points at Rakuten.com (formerly Buy.com) and had planned to use them to get a bodacious deal on the Warner Archive set Crime Does Not Pay: The Complete Shorts Collection (1935-1947).  I was really looking forward to acquiring this collection at a sweet price because in the past, I’ve dissected a few of these MGM shorts with the same amount of snark you’ve come to expect from Mayberry Mondays, Serial Saturdays and Doris Day(s).

Sadly, the purchase did not come to pass.  I got an e-mail a couple of days after I placed the order, saying the item was no longer in stock.  I got the same response for two replacement orders (one of them was going to be the set with the Joe McDoakes comedies…and I forget what the other was), and when I sent them an e-mail asking what the deal was, the answer I got was that it was the holiday season, and their vendors probably ran out of stock, and just bite us, fat boy.  (I wound up surrendering the bonus points to my Dad, who got my mom a nice cookbook for their anniversary.)

So after a three-year hiatus (seriously—the last one of these I did was in October 2011), Thrilling Days of Yesteryear is proud to present another episode in the Crime Does Not Pay series…

…which, if the above screen capture is any indication, seems to have been filmed on location in the offices of True the Vote.  The MGM Crime Reporter Guy then introduces us to this severe-looking individual, who’s got a damn good lawsuit against the cosmetic surgeon who attached that permanent sour expression on his face…

…he’s “Edward Gibbon, attorney general of a great inland state”—and though the CDNP shorts use “fictitious names” for “obvious reasons,” we here at TDOY are not bound by that kind of silly confidentiality rule, so I’ll tell you right now he’s actor Robert Elliott.

Of all the crimes that afflict our nation, election fraud is the most dangerous and inexcusable.  Dangerous because it opens the way to every other lawlessness.  Inexcusable because it can only flourish when you, the people, neglect your simple duties.  The last presidential campaign brought out a record-breaking vote…but to vote once every four years is not enough.  Every municipal, county and state election is just as vital to the unity and strength of the nation.  Seldom has the case been clearer than recently in a certain large city in my jurisdiction…

And with that, we are whisked away through the magic of motion pictures to an auditorium, where Frank Y. Carter, a Clean Government candidate for Mayor, is giving a speech to prospective voters…

…Great Caesar’s Ghost!  It’s John Hamilton!  Incidentally, the two political parties in this short are referred to as “Clean Government” and “Graft”—probably because Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer didn’t want to risk pissing anyone off if they used the real designations.  (I will let you decide who is who, particularly since there is some editorializing ahead in this essay.)

CARTER: …the issue…is not whether I shall replace the present mayor…the real issue in this campaign is the crooked political boss John Bailey…against honest, everyday citizens…racketeers…against struggling workers and shopkeepers…

As Carter continues to drone on and on and on, a shadowy figure can be seen lurking backstage.  It’s not The Whistler—it’s an unidentified individual who’s decided that Carter has bloviated long enough, and it’s time to cut his mike.

The auditorium is plunged into darkness, and there’s the usual pandemonium that results from these situations—people starting hauling ass and elbows toward the exits.  Carter’s pleas for the crowd to be calm fall on deaf ears, and outside the auditorium a camera zooms in for a close-up on the word “graft,” which we previously viewed on one of Carter’s campaign posters (“Clean Government vs. Graft”).

The close-up is a tell that we’re about to meet some of the dramatis personae in the Graft party as they listen to the tail end of Carter’s interrupted broadcast (an announcer is kind enough to let us know that due to the interruption, the station will present a musical interlude).  The dyspeptic-looking man seated is the incumbent mayor, James W. 'Jim' Wheelock (Paul Everton), and the man hovering over the radio is none other than the infamous “Boss” Jim Bailey (C. Henry Gordon), whose machine holds this fragile town in its tight, sweaty grip.

WHEELOCK: The voters will blame us for this…

BAILEY: Now, Mayor—you’re not to blame because your supporters like to play a joke on the Clean Government League?  Come on…get a good rest…

Wheelock gets out of his chair and heads toward the door for an exit line: “Bailey…I disapprove heartily of such tricks…it was unnecessary, dangerous and dishonest.”  (Kind of like your administration, eh, Mayor?)

Bailey responds by telling Wheelock to go home “and let us get you re-elected.”  Bailey’s henchman (Norman Willis) then remarks to his boss once Mayor Wheelock has taken a powder: “Unnecessary, dangerous and dishonest—who does that old hypocrite think he’s kidding?”

“Himself…and the voters,” replies “Boss” Bailey as the two of them enter a side room where much political chicanery is taking place.  Many people are milling about in this smoke-filled room, in particular a man who is apparently in charge of keeping track of Wheelock’s slush fund.  He informs Bailey that a contributor hasn’t ponied up enough dark money to the mayor’s campaign, so Bailey decides the personal touch is in order.

BAILEY (grabbing the phone): Hello, this is Bailey…

ASSISTANT: Here’s the file on him…

BAILEY: Uh…say, Walker…one of the city’s chemists claims…that the concrete used in paving Fourth Street…was way below city specifications…

WALKER (on the other end): What?!!  You tell that chemist he’s crazy!  (Rest is inaudible)

BAILEY: What?  Oh, yes—impossible?  Exactly what I told him…I said, “Listen, Pete…if a man can afford to donate $20,000 to the mayor’s campaign fund…he’s not going to risk jail for a few sacks of cement…”  Yes…I knew that you’d appreciate that…what?  No, he’s probably a fifth columnist or something…yeah…thanks…goodbye…

“We’ll get his check tomorrow,” Bailey assures his flunky.  You have to admit—that man is smooth.  Bailey then walks over to an elevated platform in the room to give his machine a little pep talk.

BAILEY: Boys… (The hubbub dies down as they all strain to listen) You’re all doing a good job…but let’s not kid ourselves…you birds can work overtime buying votes, influencing election clerks and stuffing ballot boxes…and we’ll still be lucky—if we get one-third of the total vote!  Now that means…that Clean Government voters who stay home…are just as important as machine voters who go to the polls!  Clean Government voters who stay home on Election Day…are the same as a vote for us!  And don’t forget that!  We’ll have to plaster this town with the idea…that nobody’s single vote counts!  That Carter—is a hypocritical fake…and that it makes no difference who wins anyway!

The man on the left who’s listening to Bailey’s stirring oratory is easily recognized as Raymond Bailey, the future Milburn Drysdale on The Beverly Hillbillies.  As we witnessed in one of our earlier CDNP presentations, Sucker List (1941), Mr. D had quite a checkered career before going into banking…though a more cynical person than myself might remark that it functioned pretty much as a promotion.

Bailey is one of several henchmen whose job it is to depress voter turnout—and this is done the old-fashioned way, by making individuals who plan to cast a ballot unenthusiastic about the candidates.  Some parties, notably the Democratic Party, still use these older methods (as witnessed in the recent mid-terms).  But back in 1940, these quaint methods were in force because the idea of passing voter I.D. laws to keep the browns, the blahs and the poors from exercising their right to vote hadn’t yet caught fire with the GOP.

We witness a couple of scenarios with a dissolve: Drysdale and his pal pontificate loudly on a subway car (where a gullible voter can heard them) that the Clean Government’s “a fake” and that “Boss” Bailey is actually backing both candidates simply to hedge his bets.  That same gullible fool then engages his fellow boarding house residents in a dinner table conversation that Wheelock and Carter are two peas in a pod-uh.  Another dissolve, and Mr. Drysdale is seen entering a liquor store (run by actor Henry Roquemore) with Graft Party posters, looking to hang one in the window.

OWNER: Hey, you—none of that junk in here!

DRYSDALE: That’s funny…I got you down for a ten buck donation…

OWNER: Ten bucks?  Say, I wouldn’t give you five cents…

DRYSDALE: Look…the machine is for you little guys…now f’rinstance—supposing someone got sore at you and tried to clamp down on your license?  Or rule this joint was a fire hazard?

OWNER: This is an honest business!  And you crooks can’t touch me!

DRYSDALE: Okay…see you about it after election…

The insecure store owner then stops Drysdale, and hands him a sawbuck from the till.  “You racketeers will have a lot to answer for if Carter wins,” he warns him.  But Drysdale has all the answers—the machine is backing Carter, too!  “No sense you guys going to the polls and voting,” he assures the donor.  (In the words of Akim Tamiroff in The Great McGinty: “In this town, I’m all the parties…do you think I’m going to starve every time they change administrations?”)

The scene shifts to City Hall.  Bailey’s henchman—the one we saw in the earlier scene with Mayor Wheelock—approaches a custodial engineer (William Edmunds) named Louie, and tells him not to sweat it; he’s got the janitor down for “a day’s pay” to contribute to Wheelock’s campaign.

LOUIE: Ah, Joe…I vote for the other guy…

JOE: Louie…an alien like you has to be careful in this country…

LOUIE: Say—I’m a citizen now!

JOE: …it’s full of mean people who figure a guy like you, washing windows for the City Hall…

LOUIE: Hey, Joe—you no like it here…you go back where I come from!

Louie has quite a chortle at his little joke, but Joe is not playing beanbag.  “A day’s pay by noon tomorrow” he tells the intimidated Louie if he wants to keep his job.  (As Joe walks off, Louie mutters something in a language with which I’m not acquainted—but I have a feeling it doesn’t translate as “Bless you, my friend, and may your wife have many masculine male children who do not grow up to be hairdressers.”)

Joe then makes his way down to an office where we hear a nameless civil servant in the act of challenging his supervisor about an order that looks rather hinky.  Actually, this civil servant does have a name—it’s William “Bill” Wright (Byron Shores), and unfortunately for us he’s the hero of this short despite his colorless demeanor and pizazz deficit.

BILL: I don’t understand this order, sir…fifty temporary clerks—how come?

ROBERTS: Put it through and don’t bother me…

BILL: I won’t accept the responsibility, Mr. Roberts…I don’t think they’re clerks at all…I think it’s a gag to dish more city money out to Bailey’s election workers…

ROBERTS: Bill…it’s time you learned to be realistic…

“Get your ticket for the gravy train, son—there’s plenty of room for everybody on this trip!  And the club car has an open bar!”  Incidentally, the actor playing Supervisor Roberts is one of our favorite character thesps here at TDOY—none other than OTR veteran Will Wright (not to be confused with the hero of this story).

BILL: Some people would call this dishonest…

ROBERTS: That’s enough!  You can put this work order through or take the consequences!

Since there is no Door Number Three, Bill decides to go with the consequences—smug in his knowledge that “only the Commission can fire me.”

ROBERTS: You’ve been insubordinate…careless…you’ve neglected your duties to take part in the political campaign of the Reform candidate for mayor… (Picking up phone receiver) Miss Smith…suspend William Wright at once…and schedule a hearing before the Civil Service Commission…one month from today!

Ya burnt, Billy!  The election will be over by then!  Wright tries to save face by announcing that he’s going to go home and write up his report to the Commission…and then he’s going to take a copy over to the Clean Government League.

JOE: I wouldn’t do that…you probably got a girl or a wife…I’d think of her in my future…jobs are scarce…

BILL: Well…one of Bailey’s storm troopers…I’ll mention you, too!

“And for your information, women refuse to have anything to do with me!  So suck on that, storm trooper!”  After making his dramatic exit out of Roberts’ office, Bill runs into a co-worker who answers to Albert “Perky” Perkins—played by Matt McHugh, the lesser-known brother of Frank McHugh, who you’ve seen in a million Warner Brothers movies from the 1930s…because it was a federal law at the time.

PERKY: Hey, Bill—can he make it stick?

BILL: Yeah…

PERKY: He’ll change his mind when he hears some of the dirt I can spill on him!

BILL: Nix…you’ll get canned soon enough without sticking your neck out for me…

PERKY: So?  What have I got to lose?

BILL: Forget it, Perk…but thanks…

Perky also reveals that they cadged a day’s pay off of him to donate to Wheeler…and warns his pal that Bailey’s boys can make plenty of trouble.  “They won’t take a chance so close to election,” Bill assures his friend.  And with that, we fade to…

…yes, Perry White is making another speech on the radio about crooked politicians and it’s each citizens’ duty and argle bargle argle bargle.  Candidate Carter is supposed to have a special guest on his paid political broadcast, but he appears to be running a bit late.  And then it’s revealed…

…that it’s none other than our pal Bill, who looks like forty miles of bad road.  Asked by Perky who gave him the beatdown, Bill responds “Three guesses…”  But here’s the interesting twist in this scenario—he asks the other gentleman, a jamoke named Sanders (John Dilson), to “deputize” him so he can go after the miscreants what mussed his looks.  Keep this in mind if you’re ever canned from a civil service job—all you have to do is ask to be a special deputy, and your worries as to where your next meal is coming from are over!

Even though he does not have a written excuse for his tardiness, Bill is shown the microphone and he addresses the vast listening audience:

BILL: I have just been beaten up because I don’t believe in fake public jobs for hoodlums…that is something that isn’t supposed to happen here…but it happened to me tonight…and unless you wake up, it can happen to any one of you…only instead of a smashed face—your tough luck might be worse…maybe a child run down because the city’s broke and can’t afford enough traffic officers…maybe a job or business wrecked by racketeers…but you don’t have to give time or money to prevent it…all you have to do is vote!  Vote…send Boss Bailey and Mayor Wheelock…and their fellow crooks to jail for their crimes…for extortion…for graft…for false vote registrations from vacant lots and empty buildings…just make up your minds and go to the polls and vote!

Wake up, sheeple!  At the mention of Bailey and Wheelock, the action shifts to the two men listening to Bill’s spiel over a radio in the offices of Graft, Ltd.  Both the Boss and the Mayor are a little hurt by the sting of our hero’s words.

WHEELOCK: I’ll go on the radio and denounce that fellow as a phony!

BAILEY: The voters won’t listen to that stuff…

“After all, they were stupid enough to elect you to higher office, weren’t they?”  No, Bailey demonstrates to his political patron what the people are really interested in as he tunes into various stations on the radio dial: “Swing bands…comedians…prizefights…and on Election Day—they’ll do everything but go to the polls and vote!”

Bailey seems quite smugly certain of himself, as if he were auditioning to be a villain in the next Bond film.  “Oh, they’ll get in their morning game of golf…their type of beauty treatments…mob the bargain sales…worry about their business…throw their weekly bridge parties, and take time off for ballgames—but they will not go to the polls and vote!  They just don’t care that much!”  Sweet guinea pig of Winnipeg—this guy is even more cynical than I am!

A montage follows, with a diligent plasterer changing a sign that formerly read “Vote Tomorrow” to “Vote Today.”  Over this montage, we hear the urbane tones of Boss Bailey observing how the voters got in their golf games, went to the salon, did their shopping, etc.  To drive this point home further, we fade up on a counterman (played by Frank Orth) and a working stiff who’s addressed as “Pete”…but who we know and fear as Hugh Beaumont, later to play TV’s saddest excuse for a father on Leave it to Beaver.

PETE: Are you votin’ today?

COUNTERMAN: Nope…too busy…

PETE: Whaddya mean?  Nobody’s too busy to vote—especially not you…

COUNTERMAN: Aw, one vote don’t mean nothin’ in a city this size…

PETE: Well, it’d be swell if we all felt that way about it, wouldn’t it?  We could kiss everything we got over here goodbye…

“I know something of mine you can kiss…and it’s not a goodbye.”

PETE (dropping money on the counter): Maybe you wouldn’t care, but I would—plenty…

In contrast to the counterman’s “I’ve-run-out-of-craps-to-give” attitude, the scene shifts to City Hall, where our pal Perky tells a co-worker off-screen: “You bet I’m voting—in about five minutes!”  But Perk is distracted by a sight just outside the office window:

Holy hanging chads, Batman!  Those guys are threatening to tamper with ballot boxes—and I don’t think they’re with the Chris McDaniel campaign!  The quick-thinking Perky copies down the license plate number of the truck, and in the next scene fills Bill in on the shenanigans…who, in turn, contacts the proper authorities because he’s a special deputy now, damn it.  (I’m not making this up—he even gives his badge number over the phone.)  It’s not going to be easy for Special Deputy Wright (especially since there’s another seven-and-a-half minutes in this short) because the prefix of the license number indicates that it’s a rental.

We then shift to a scene of three men strolling down the street, and we can hear one of them grouse: “Oh, baloney—how can anyone steal an election these days?  Maybe it was different when your father was a kid…”  The guy’s voice trails off as he and his friend continue walking—but the third man splits off and descends a flight of stairs to enter a basement room where we find two Bailey goons seated at a table.  The man hands the two “poll workers” a blank ballot, and after receiving some monetary compensation he heads out the door at the same time another man walks in.  One of the goons makes marks besides the names of the machine candidates and hands it to the newcomer.

HENCHMAN: You ever voted a chain ballot before?  (The man shakes his head) Well, just so you can’t cheat us—this ballot’s already marked…the only way you can get your two bucks is to vote it and bring back the clean one they give ya so we can mark it for the next guy…now don’t crumple it…

“Oh, and have a blessed day.”  Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian Donlevy was the next mook to show up in that place.  The other gentleman hands him a registration and receipt, telling him to “use that name and address and step on it.”

We then fade in to Graft Headquarters.  Boss Bailey and his thugs are listening to election night returns on the radio, and with twenty-one precincts reporting the tally is Wheelock 6,251…Carter 6,463.

HENCHMAN: Not so good…more honest suckers voted than we figured…

BAILEY: No, but not enough—twenty or thirty strong precincts…will wipe out their whole lead… (Glancing at his watch) And the boys aren’t exactly asleep just now…

No indeedy, they are not.  The action shifts to one precinct where the ballots are about to be counted…and a jovial man (Harry Burns) announces to the workers that there are sandwiches and java for everyone before they start to work.  With everyone out to the kitchen for a nosh, the “gracious host” unlocks the ballot box…and then ushers a pair of Bailey’s henchmen (one of whom is Mr. Drysdale) in, who proceed to empty the box and replace the legitimate votes with their fake ballots.  One of the goons (Dick Rich) takes special notice that this is the last of the precinct boxes, and that they need to hurry up so that they can “get back to the joint and burn these.”

In the meantime, Special Deputy Bill continues his investigation into the rental vehicle license plate.  Assisted by his faithful Indian companion Perky, the two men locate the address that was on the rental form and they sneak inside a darkened print shop to investigate.

Shazam!  A printing press with the precise ballot form template!  Bill quickly inks up the press and taking one of the paper ballots, fires it up to make a quick copy as evidence of this crooked election.  Perky hears a truck pulling up outside, and Bill sends him out to their car to start it up.  Just as Bill completes his task, Drysdale and two other gorillas enter the business in time to spot him running out the back door…on the street, he hops into the car with Perky and the two of them begin to drive away.  Drysdale draws his pistola and fires at the car, and as they turn a corner on two wheels, Bill has nothing but praise for his pal.  “Nice work, Perky!”

Hoo boy.  Looks like they got Perky.  As Perk draws his final breath, Bill hears a newsboy in the distance—Wheelock has been re-elected in a race that went down to the wire.

I know what you’re thinking—“What a horrible, horrible ending!”  And though our civic-minded pal Pete might be disappointed with the election results (“Those dirty crooks!”), Special Deputy Bill has presented the faux ballot to the office of Attorney General Sourpuss, and one of his men is demonstrating to candidate Carter, Bill and a few others the discrepancies in the two ballots.  A.G. Grouchface then gets buzzed on the intercom: they’ve extracted the bullet from dead hero Perky, and if they can locate the gun with the matching markings it’s just a hop, skip and a jump to the killer.  The Attorney General swings into action, notifying one of his deputies that they need to hie to the Twelfth Street warehouse where the ballots are stored…and that Bailey is going to throw a fit when he learns the A.G.’s office is on to him.  (Personally, I think Bailey’s days in the election fixing business are just about over—so it really doesn’t matter much.)

Back at Graft Headquarters, re-elected Mayor Wheelock is greeted by partygoers and well-wishers as he enters the building.  Bailey?  A word in your ear?

WHEELOCK: You know they found the print shop…they’re sure to question the election—suppose they inspect the ballots?

BAILEY: Well, suppose they can’t find them?

Bailey takes Wheelock out on the patio and suggests that he look far off into the distance.  They can see the warehouse from where they stand, but if the Mayor also sees a raging inferno shortly…that means Bailey’s men have destroyed all of the evidence of that naughty old crooked election.

WHEELOCK: The Perkins killing was cold-blooded murder…

BAILEY: Well, we just won the election—we’re judge, jury and executioner in this town!  It’s all ours!  The streets, the buildings, the people…we own it all…

At the Twelfth Street Warehouse, several of Bailey’s henchmen are ready to torch the ballots and burn that mutha to the ground.  The two-fisted Molotov cocktail guy on the left…

…has just one line of dialogue—“Okay?”—but his unmistakable voice reveals him to be OTR’s own Ken Christy.  The Bailey gang start the blaze, but Special Deputy Bill and his coterie arrive on the scene in time to douse the fire with water hoses…which leads to this predictable denouement:

The counterman is most cynical about this turn of events.  “There’s democracy for ya,” he gripes.  His pal Pete has a few questions for him.

PETE: Did you vote against the men?

COUNTERMAN: The whole system’s rotten, clear through!

PETE: Did you vote?

COUNTERMAN: And there’s only one way to clean it up, and that’s the way they done it in Europe—with a strong man!

PETE (grabbing his collar): What do you think Boss Bailey was?  He rewrote plenty of laws…he faked elections…he pushed people around…that’s why we ran him out!  Now—did you vote?

COUNTERMAN (sheepishly): No…

PETE: Then just shut up…and stay shut up…

I wish we could have seen more of this Hugh Beaumont on Beaver, by the way.  (“Beav—you’re never going to be as gifted as Wally or as popular…so how about having a nice, piping-hot bowl of STFU?  And try not to fall into it, ferchrissake…”)

Okay—one more lecture from Attorney General Vinegar Face and then we’re done.

Today, democracy is on trial…and the outcome depends far less on the spies and fifth columnists of hostile nations…than how well we cherish our great distinguishing right…the free and secret ballot.  If ever your one vote seems not to mean very much—just pause and reflect…that for millions elsewhere who felt the same way…government of the people, by the people and for the people…has perished from the earth.

That’s a wrap—happy Thanksgiving, everybody!