Today's Suspense episode is "Joker Wild" (December 8, 1952) starring Elliott Lewis! Although he'd made plenty of dramatic appearances (many on Suspense), Lewis was also adept at comedy, performing on shows like the Jack Benny Program and being a top-billed star on the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show. At the time, he was also the producer-director of Suspense.
The story was written by the team of Morton Fine and David Friedkin, two of Lewis' favourite radio scribes (they wrote for Lewis on Broadway Is My Beat, Crime Classics, the Line-Up, On Stage and Pursuit). Lewis' then-wife Cathy Lewis has the top female role in this episode.
Harry (Elliott) is a comedian who's tired of making people laugh; he wants to make them sad by committing murder (this is not me giving away a twist - that's the opening scene!).
I kind of hate this episode because it feels so mean-spirited. Later in life Lewis said he didn't care for his work as a comedian and I wonder if this episode (written by two of his favourite writers) was an attempt at lashing out. I find it a very miserable, sour program-- but it's worth hearing once, so you should definitely check it out:
The Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show was a spin-off program from the Jack Benny Program, starring his popular bandleader Phil Harris alongside his real-life wife, movie star Alice Faye. The cast included Elliott Lewis as Frankie Remley, Phil's left-handed guitar player (more about that below), Walter Tetley as Julius Abruzzio the delivery boy, Gale Gordon as Phil's sponsor Mr. Scott (during the show's first season Gordon appeared in various small roles before becoming a regular in the 2nd year) and Robert North as Alice's nasal-toned brother Willie. Bill Forman was the show's announcer and they drew from the best of radio's supporting players (including many appearances by Sheldon Leonard as Grogan, a mobster friend of Remley's). In it's heyday, the show was written by Ray Singer and Dick Chevillat.
It began under the title of the Fitch Bandwagon, a long-running program that usually hosted musical numbers. Phil had even supplied some of the musical numbers in the show's past but as of September 29, 1946, Phil and Alice served as the stars and the same format would hold even as the show changed sponsors (Rexall 1948-1950, RCA-Victor 1950-1954). Under the formal name change to the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show the series ran from October 3, 1948 to June 18, 1954. Whatever the name, whatever the format, it was always heard on NBC.
Given Phil Harris' immense popularity throughout the 1930s (believe it or not, his 1933 short film So This Is Harris won the Academy Award for Best Short Subject!), it was only a matter of time before he became the star of his own show. A frequent recurring joke on the Jack Benny Program would be Phil boasting of a new radio show he'd supposedly be starring in under the auspices of a second-rate (fictional) sponsor. Phil had led a few musical programs (such as Hollywood Spotlight; he used his signature theme from that show on Phil Harris/Alice Faye) and he served as a guest host here and there, notably when he spent the summer of 1944 as guest host of Kay Kyser's Kollege of Musical Knowledge.
But of all of Phil's starring roles on radio prior to he and Alice's program, perhaps the most fateful appearance was an episode of Stars Over Hollywood titled "Southern Hospitality" (April 18, 1942). It's a gentle comedy in which Phil appeared as himself and accompanying him as his sidekick and fellow musician was one Elliott Lewis. Lewis was a pretty busy man as a radio actor and had also performed alongside Phil on many episodes of the Jack Benny Program but that episode of Stars Over Hollywood demonstrated how well Phil and Elliott played off of each other.
For the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show, Lewis assumed the identity of Frankie Remley, the real-life left-handed guitar player who had been a source of jokes for years on the Jack Benny Program; strangely, although many members of the band were used in jokes on Benny's show (Sammy the drummer, Bagby the piano player), Remley was the only one shared between the two shows - a sharing process that started out well (Lewis even made appearances as Remley on Benny's show) but ended poorly.
Lewis is a big part of what makes the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show hold up today; his off-kilter sense of humour (frequently sardonic) and jovial personality (usually entering with a "Hiya, Curly!" directed at Phil) paired with his ability to exacerbate each episode's problem (frequently he would declare "I know a guy..." to handle Phil's situation).
Phil marrying Alice Faye was, in some ways, a great joke on Jack Benny; there had been many jokes on the Jack Benny Program about how Phil was considered a great lover, much to Jack's consternation. Phil marrying a real-life glamorous movie star played right into the joke, but they proved to have an enduring love for each other; unlike so many Hollywood couples, they really did love each other and Alice gave up her acting career to raise their children (when she did try acting later she found she hadn't missed it). Phil and Alice's children were played by Jeanine Roose (who started playing Phyllis in 1945 for the Jack Benny Program) and Anne Whitfield.
In the days the show was written by Ray Singer and Dick Chevillat it had a very strong formula, similar to what many television sitcoms would adopt in the following years. Typically, Phil would try to tackle some problem (be it buying a gift for Alice or, in one instance, trying to solve a murder) and Frankie would be either forced to assist him or force Phil to accept his help. After their initial failures at the task, Frankie would declare "I know a guy," often leading to an appearance by Grogan, who started out as a counterfeiter but soon became an all-purpose criminal. As Phil and Frankie's problems mounted, Julius would appear ("Mistah Harris, I brung da groceries!") and they would attempt to solve their problem by forcing (or tricking) Julius to help them.
Again, during the Singer/Chevillat years there would be two musical numbers in each episode, one sung by Phil, the other by Alice. Usually these were songs they had recently recorded and were promoting; in the RCA Victor years, those songs were recorded for RCA Victor, thus they served as a sort of commercial. A lot of songs were repeated over the years; some had been part of Phil's act since the 1930s. In the Singer/Chevillat years, there would always be a deliberately-poor segue leading into the songs, a gentle way of mocking how on radio shows, characters seemed to burst into song even when there was no possible musical accompaniment. The best jokes would follow the songs; in an episode where Alice sang her song while the characters were supposedly in an elevator, Frankie quipped "Nice band they had in the elevator," causing Phil to crack up (February 12, 1950).
The series had a gentle fall from grace. As of the fall of 1952, Elliott Lewis couldn't use the name of Frankie Remley any longer and so his character became "Elliott Lewis" for the final 2 seasons. Although Jack had moved from NBC to CBS in 1949 without much harm (it did mean Phil had less time on the Jack Benny Program), apparently CBS television wanted to keep the Frankie Remley jokes as part of Benny's act and didn't want to share with NBC any longer; at the same time, Phil was dropped from Jack's show (replaced by Bob Crosby).
When Elliott Lewis started portraying "Elliott Lewis" on the Phil Harris/Alice Faye show, his character became a lot less funny. Although the character was written as before, Frankie Remley was a legendary left-handed guitar player and butt of jokes; Elliott, despite claiming he was also a left-handed guitar player was not; the artifice of the character he was portraying became too obvious once his fictional character had the same name.
The songs had also become simply played from the RCA Victor recordings, thus lacking the fun segues the series had used. The recordings are also less spontaneous and the change in audio quality when they start likewise makes the listener too aware of the artificial nature of the program.
The series also began losing important names; Gale Gordon left, depriving the show of a great comedic foil for Phil; Robert North left and although the part of Willie was recast, Willie was written as a straight man from then on and his appearances were infrequent. Finally Singer and Chevillat left, leaving the show's final year to be written by Jack Douglas and Marvin Fisher, who wrote for comedy shows such as the Sealtest Village Show and the Martin and Lewis Show. The jokes in the last year are much more generic than the Singer/Chevillat jokes and most could have been used on Father Knows Best. There were a lot of stooges added in the final year, such as Richard LeGrand (best-known as Peavey on the Great Gildersleeve) who played Phil's dad, despite LeGrand's speciality being a New England hick and Phil being a southerner.
Despite all of this, I still find the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show to be a very funny program, especially from 1946-1952, Singer/Chevillat's peak years. Phil was an appealing wiseguy and the show had plenty of smart-aleck stooges for him to play off. Gale Gordon's Mr. Scott character barely restraining his contempt for Phil is extremely fun to listen to.
One of the joys of this series is that we still have several examples of the program's warm-up show. It appears Phil usually worked the warm-up show himself, running a stand-up comedy routine to get the audience ready for the scripted program to follow and introducing each member of his band. It's rare to have any warm-up shows in existence, so these samples are a treat.
The Old Time Radio Researchers have a YouTube playlist of 249 Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show episodes (these include Armed Forces' versions and versions that include the pre-show):
On Stage, also known as "Cathy and Elliott Lewis on Stage," was a latter-day CBS radio program that aired from January 1, 1953 until September 30, 1954. The series was a dramatic anthology featuring the husband-wife team of Cathy and Elliott Lewis. The two of them were something of a power couple in radio; they'd both been busy radio actors who appeared in all sorts of comedies and dramas before being married. By the time of On Stage, Cathy had become a comedy star in the radio and TV versions of My Friend Irma and while Elliott was still appearing in the radio comedy the Phil Harris/Alice Faye Show he was becoming better known as a writer, producer and director, producing such shows as Suspense, Crime Classics, Broadway Is My Beat, the Line-Up and Pursuit.
On Stage was a dramatic anthology series; sometimes the episodes were comedies, sometimes romantic dramas, sometimes a thriller, sometimes a bit of experimental radio. As something of a hodge-podge of content, I'm sure the series itself won't be to every person's taste but it did possess quality; Elliott and Cathy were top performers and they brought with them many of the best actors they'd been collaborating with at CBS along with top-notch sound effects and original music.
Most of On Stage featured original scripts by the likes of Morton Fine and David Friedkin (who worked on every show Elliott produced) and E. Jack Neuman. Neuman's scripts included "Eddie," a disturbing story in which Elliott portrayed a happy-go-lucky stalker who refused to be spurned by Cathy and "Heartbreak," in which Elliott portrayed a man who suffered a heart attack and the difficulty his wife had in dealing with him.
Outside of original scripts, the series adapted Frank R. Stockton's "the Lady or the Tiger" and Anton Chekhov's "the Bear," plus a reinterpretation of Ernest Thayer's poem "Casey at the Bat" and Voltaire's novel "Candide." A few episodes of On Stage were later redone on Suspense, including "Beyruth by Sunrise," "Heavens to Betsy" and "the Cellar Door."
I find the series was weakest when it attempted comedy; despite Elliott and Cathy's lengthy credits in that genre, I find the debut episode "String Bowtie" to be a rather unfunny attempt at screwball comedy. The gentler comedy of "the Man of Independent Mind" about an average Joe who decides to become the strongest man in the world in order to prove his greatness or "Canary Yellow" about a father who objects to his son playing a bird in a school play were much better fits for the Lewises.
Sadly, Cathy and Elliott Lewis divorced in 1958, four years after the series ended. This makes it particularly rough to hear episodes of On Stage where they played quarrelling couples - which they did now and then. If On Stage was meant to draw them closer together then it failed - it sounds like by the end of the series run their marriage was already crumbling.
"The Scarlet Queen, the proudest ship to plough the seas, bound for uncharted adventure! Every week a complete entry in the log and every week a league further in the strange Voyage of the Scarlet Queen!"
The Voyage of the Scarlet Queen was a radio adventure series that aired on Mutual from July 3, 1947 to February 14, 1948. The titular Scarlet Queen was a ketch under the command of Philip Carney (Elliott Lewis), aided by his first mate Red Gallagher (Ed Max). It was written by Gil Doud and Bob Tallman, produced by James Burton.
As the series involves a ship at sail it should be noted that this was not a historical program - it was set in contemporary times, with nearly every episode set somewhere in the Pacific, particularly at Asian ports of call.
Unusually for a non-juvenile adventure series, the Voyage of the Scarlet Queen had some continuity between episodes. The series kicked off with Carney in San Francisco, receiving an assignment from a Chinese man named Ku Chei Kang which promises to lead Carney to a fortune - however there's a rival group led by a man named Constantino who want the fortune for themselves. Constantino's people kill Carney's first mate in the first episode, resulting in Red Gallagher joining the crew; Gallagher is himself one of Constantino's agents but by the end of the pilot had swapped sides to serve faithfully under Carney's command. Interestingly, there was still a bit of friction for the first few episodes as Gallagher's allegiance to Carney was tested; but eventually the search for Kang's fortune was wrapped up, yet the series kept going with a variety of done-in-one episodes before it was cancelled. The final episode brought up Kang again, a fitting conclusion to the series.
In the audition, Lewis was Red Gallagher - Howard Duff had the role of Philip Carney. By the time it became a series, Duff was busy with the Adventures of Sam Spade, which must be why Lewis was promoted to the lead role. Listening to the audition (which was redone for the broadcast version) it is a big distracting to hear Duff as Carney as the role is played straight with none of Duff's usual sarcasm. For that matter, it's a bit hard to accept Lewis in the role of the tough and brawny Gallagher; the recasting definitely served to the show's benefit. In 1950 an attempt was made to recreate the series as the Log of the Black Parrot with Elliott Lewis again in the lead and Gil Doud writing alongside producer Antony Ellis but this time the pilot did not lead to a series.
Lead writer Gil Doud was a busy writer whose work appeared in One Out of Seven, the Adventures of Sam Spade, Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar, Pursuit, Escape, Suspense, Gunsmoke and Fort Laramie. His Escape credits include the episode "Port Royal," which was also set at sea (I rather like that episode). Co-writer Bob Tallman also wrote a few episodes of Escape, Suspense and the Adventures of Sam Spade.
The Voyage of the Scarlet Queen is a series I tried repeatedly to listen to over the last 2 decades yet something always held me back - I couldn't account for it. Gil Doud's writing, Elliott Lewis' acting, sea-going adventure - heck, those elements make it sound like a spin-off from Escape, right? But it wasn't until I resolved to write up the series on this blog that I made a determined effort at listening to the entire series.
There are some problems with the show, mainly that it was set primarily in Asia yet the Asian characters were all cast with white men doing bad "yellowface" accents. I like Bill Johnstone and William Conrad a lot but their Voyage of the Scarlet Queen characters are regrettable footnotes in their radio careers. Still, the series was wise enough to cast Barton Yarborough in a few episodes as a Texan, permitting him to act in the accent he did best (his first character was killed off; the series then brought him back as the first character's brother!).
Still, it is a strong series with a lot of good work being done; it's least-offensive when it steps away from the Asian characters as in the pilot and in the episode "The Jewel Thieves and The Straw Filled Dummy" in which Lewis' wife Cathy Lewis held a memorable role as a romantic interest for Carney.
The Voyage of the Scarlet Queen's run is mostly intact, which is unusual for Mutual shows; they were rebroadcast by the Armed Forces, who account for most of the surviving episodes; you can hear the Old Time Radio Researchers' collection in this YouTube playlist!
The Clock was an old-time radio mystery anthology series that ran over ABC from November 3, 1946 until May 23, 1948. Although it's estimated that the series broadcast 78 episodes, we have a mere half-dozen circulating today. However, in 1955 the program was revived in Australia by Grace Gibson, who evidently used some (or all?) of the scripts in their version.
The Clock is a bit of a frustrating series to pin down. Even though the mystery anthology program is one of the most popular types of programs among old-time radio collectors, collectors and researchers don't appear to have unearthed very much information about the program. It's also surprising because the series had some major talent behind it - notable performers as well as the peerless craft of producer William Spier. You'd think there would have been numerous articles written about the series while it was being produced but... evidently not.
The Clock used noises such as the ticking of a clock and the chimes of bells to lend colour to their narratives. Each episode was hosted by Father Time himself (portrayed by William Conrad during the William Spier era). But beyond these trappings, the title "the Clock" doesn't tell you much about the show, not in the way a title such as Suspense, Escape, Romance or Intrigue efficiently tell you what to expect.
Most of what we have from the US version dates from William Spier's involvement. Many of the episodes preceding his were apparently written by Lawrence Klee, who would later write for the Chase. Spier was joined by many familiar voices from his work on Suspense, notably the team of Elliott and Cathy Lewis and even writer Lucille Fletcher! At the time, Spier had quit Suspense and I'm sure it was a coup for ABC to bring him aboard the Clock. Yet Spier's time on the Clock (no pun intended) was very short-lived; he definitely produced the final 6 episodes but we don't even know when his tenure as producer began. After the Clock ran down (pun intended) he moved on to the Philip Morris Playhouse before finally returning to Suspense one last time; some of the programs Spier produced for the Clock had been produced on Suspense, including "The Right Man" (heard on Suspense as "Bank Holiday" on July 19, 1945); others would be reprised on Suspense, including "The Search for Isobel" (November 3, 1949).
What we have of the US version is a bit mixed. "Bela Boczniak's Bad Dreams" (also referred to as simply "Bad Dreams") is Lucille Fletcher's contribution as writer but it's not up to quality of Suspense plays such as "The Diary of Sophronia Winters" of "the Thing in the Window." And one of the earliest surviving episodes - "Nicky Kane Lives" - is an odd duck, a quasi-supernatural tale of a gangster seeming to come back from the dead.
Based on what little we have of the US version, it would be hard to say whether we've been deprived of something great by not possessing all of them, but I'm sure simply because of the talent involved it would be nice to have all of Spier's episodes of the Clock.
If it's true that the Australian version was indeed adapted from the US scripts - and episodes do indeed sound like US dramas - then the surviving 50 or so Australian episodes at least gives us some concept of the show's usual plots. The first episodes of the Clock I ever heard were both Australian episodes: "All the Money in the World" (about a young man who receives unlimited money from an eccentric millionaire - it's the same premise that Jack Benny used as satire in his "I Stand Condemned" radio skits) and "The Man with the Strange Trunk" (concerning a woman who is very curious about a hotel guest's large trunk).
The Internet Archive has a collection of the Clock episodes that you can find over here - but be warned that like most attempts to impose order on the Clock it intermixes the US version with the later Australian episodes. Perhaps future researchers will be able to better determine the complete broadcast history of the Clock - we may yet be treated to some rediscovered missing episodes as well!
Pursuit was a CBS police program featuring the adventures of Inspector Peter Black of Scotland Yard. The series ran from October 27, 1949 'til March 25, 1952. Despite a lengthy run it appears there are only about 20 episodes that still exist.
Among what remains of the series is the pilot episode (dated November 28, 1948), where the series was instead called the Hunters. The format was much the same, although the lead character was called Inspector Harvey then and was portrayed by Victor Jory (Jory didn't make it to the series). Strangely, the pilot episode is an adaptation of the Cornell Woolrich story "You Take Ballistics." It's a terrific police drama but hardly a story of Scotland Yard - Woolrich's story was an American one, so it was altered to fit the UK setting. You can also hear "You Take Ballistics" as adapted earlier on the excellent series Suspense on March 13, 1947, meaning Pursuit is something of a cousin series to Suspense.
Looking at the talent who produced the series you'll also see a lot of familiar CBS names, particularly from Suspense and Escape: William N. Robson, Elliott Lewis, Norm MacDonnell, Antony Ellis, Morton Fine, David Friedkin, John and Gwen Bagni; originally Inspector Black was portrayed by Ted DeCorsia, later by John Dehner and finally by Ben Wright; Black's sidekick Constable Moffett was sometimes portrayed by Raymond Lawrence; Bill Johnstone also appeared in many episodes in various roles.
For some reason, there was a post-war interest in Scotland Yard stories on the radio; I've already written about Whitehall 1212; the best program was in my opinion the anthology series the Black Museum but Pursuit is just one of several other examples. Pursuit had the advantage of the terrific CBS radio professionals working behind it; the series was even sponsored by Ford for a brief period in 1950. The music was usually very restrained, mostly performed on organ with a piano accompanying.
Early on, in episodes written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin, there's a slight comedic tone to the series, similar to how they wrote for Broadway Is My Beat. In one episode, Inspector Black has to obtain intelligence from the British army and is confronted by a number of different bureaucrats who keep sending him off to different departments. There's also an episode set at Loch Ness (yes, the monster is brought up) where some humour is had from the laid-back nature of the local Scottish policemen.
The series was, at times, a very strong adventure program. One episode dubbed "Pursuit in the North Sea" (July 22, 1950) featured Dehner's Inspector Black battling the black market and going to extreme lengths to get at men smuggling illicit goods. It's my pick for the best of the series.
The Clock started out as an ABC anthology program in 1947-1948. Today, most of what we have of the Clock comes from an Australian version made during the 1950s. A few of those program used the same scripts as the ABC version so it does give us a picture of what the show was like - because, unfortunately, we only have a little of the 1947-1948 version.
What makes the Clock stand out, though, is the talent behind it. It was produced by William Spier, best-known for giving us Suspense. Most episodes starred the husband-wife team of Elliott and Cathy Lewis and there were many other familiar names from Suspense. For this Halloween, I'm concerned with the episode dubbed "Nicky." It starts out sounding very much like other radio programs: a gangster's girlfriend is plotting to fake his execution on death row; the undertaker who learns of the plot blackmails his way in. And then events get a bit surreal and very supernatural!
"Nicky" featured a few other Suspense names, including William Conrad as the host/narrator and Hans Conreid as the undertaker. You can hear "Nicky" at the Old-Time Radio Researcher's Group.
The CBS Radio Workshop - "dedicated to man's imagination; the theater of the mind" - aired from January, 1956 to September, 1957, fairly late in the life of radio drama. But before I can describe what the series was like, I need to describe the Columbia Workshop, its predecessor.
There's not really anything on radio quite like the Columbia Workshop (or the CBS Radio Workshop). The Columbia Workshop was a CBS program which bounced around their schedule from time-to-time between 1936-1947. It was a very experimental program - it took a lot of chances and not all of them worked. The Columbia Workshop was a space for producers, directors, writers, musicians, sound effects men and actors to try out material that wouldn't have fit anywhere else. The risks which CBS took in running such a program certainly paid off for them in the years ahead - Suspense is one such program which owes a lot to the Columbia Workshop for testing new ways of telling stories.
Like the Columbia Workshop, CBS Radio Workshop had no particular genre or even style of content; sometimes it presented drama, other times comedy, sometimes a "colloquy" which were opportunities to editorialize on a certain subject; there were musical episodes, slice-of-life programs and a bit of journalism. Not every episode will be to a person's taste (I find the music program "The Stronger" to be a chore), but I think every radio fan can find at least a few episodes they'll enjoy.
For instance, there was a lot of airtime given to science fiction, which CBS didn't delve into too often (such stories were more common on NBC). CBS Radio Workshop kicked off with a two-part adaptation of Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World" and later adapted his novel "Jacob's Hands." There's a Ray Bradbury episode which adapted "Season of Disbelief" and "Hail and Farewell"; they adapted Heinlein's "The Green Hills of Earth"; John Cheever's social commentary "The Enormous Radio"; the humourous Robert Nathan story "A Pride of Carrots"; Antoine de St. Exupery's "The Little Prince"; a two-part adaptation of C. M. Kornbluth's "The Space Merchants"; and the fun fantasy story "Housing Problem" by Henry Kuttner.
Other interesting adaptations included a number of great humour stories: "Roughing It" by Mark Twain; "The King of the Cats" by Stephen Vincent Benet; "You Could Look It Up" by James Thurber; and a very funny adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's "Never Bet the Devil Your Head."
The show looked at the process of writing for radio in "A Writer at Work" and at microphone technology in "I Have Three Heads"; the series explored psychic research in "Report on ESP"; an examination of Hawaiian culture in "Malahini Magic"; and a portable tape recorder presentation of famous cities: "The Voice of New York," "This Is Paris," and "Portrait of London."
It was a fairly highbrow show at times - Shakespeare comes up a lot. The first colloquy is an "interview" with Shakespeare; there's a Hamlet play called "Another Point of View"; and a look at Shakespearean acting in "Lovers, Villains and Fools." There's also a look at the titular "Oedipus Story," some Japanese theatre in "Noh Plays of Japan," a dramatic reading of Christ's passion in "The Son of Man" and an episode in which William Conrad read poetry: "1489 Words."
You can hear adaptations of novels and short stories on any 'playhouse'-type program. What sets CBS Radio Workshop apart from other dramatic shows are the programs which probably couldn't have been done anywhere else. To that end, there are four episodes I want to single out:
"A Matter of Logic": Writer/producer Antony Ellis appears as himself as he tries to convince William Conrad of his take on a far-out concept; Conrad disagrees with Ellis' premise and the two try to hash it out through a friendly argument. One wonders if Ellis was inspired by similar arguments he'd had with performers over the years.
"I Was the Duke": A remarkable conversation with a juvenile delinquint. It certainly supports everything one fears about teenage criminals, but it is surprising to hear how casually the real-life criminal discusses his crimes, with some uncensored profanity littering his speech! It's probably your only chance to hear some profanity in old-time radio.
"Nightmare": An interesting drama about a man (Elliott Lewis) struggling with a heart attack and the odd nightmare he experiences while clinging on to life. It's a beautifully surreal stream-of-consciousness play.
"The Silent Witness": A one-man play performed by Raymond Burr; not up to the standard of Suspense's "The Waxwork" but a very solid drama.
So that's what sets CBS Radio Workshop apart from other dramatic shows, but what set it apart from its predecessor, the Columbia Workshop? I think the difference is that the Columbia Workshop was testing unproven ideas and concepts, pushing the boundaries of what could be done in radio. CBS Radio Workshop arrived at the end of dramatic radio and seemed to comprehend that it would be among the last of its kind; rather than strive towards a future that wasn't there, it simply demonstrated what was possible with the technology of the time. For that reason, I think CBS Radio Workshop is much easier to listen to than the average episode of the Columbia Workshop, but I think I've written enough to give you an idea of whether this show would appeal to you.
The Old-Time Radio Researchers Group has a collection of the CBS Radio Workshop at the Internet Archive.
In exploring old-time radio shows that I wasn't very familiar with I became interested in the program The Casebook of Gregory Hood. This series ran on Mutual from 1946-1951, yet so far only 16 episodes have been found to exist - and of them, they're mostly from the start of the series. It's a pity that so little exists, considering the talent involved on this program.
I have to begin by talking about Anthony Boucher and Denis Green. These two had been the chief writers on Mutual's The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes since 1944, which was sponsored by Petri Wines and starred Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. In the spring of 1946, Rathbone and Bruce bid the Holmes series adeus for good. In their final episode ("The Singular Affair Of The Baconian Cipher"), Gregory Hood dropped in during the outro so that his old friend Dr. Watson could invite listeners to hear his debut episode (television would later codify this sort of spin-off). The Casebook of Gregory Hood was produced as a summer replacement for Sherlock Holmes, which did return in the fall with Boucher and Green still the series' principal writers (but with a new Holmes and Watson).
The Casebook of Gregory Hood, therefore, can be seen as an attempt by Boucher and Green to see if they could succeed without the names of Rathbone, Bruce, Holmes or Watson! The format of the show was very much like Boucher and Green's Sherlock Holmes. Petri Wines pitchman Harry Bartell would venture into the company of Gregory Hood (and/or his lawyer friend Sanderson Taylor) and after some playful banter about Petri Wines, they would tell Bartell the story of one of their adventures.
Although many of the mystery plots presented on Gregory Hood could have been featured on Sherlock Holmes, there are certain differences. The biggest is the setting - not only is it in the USA rather than the UK, but in the specific locale of San Francisco. It seems Boucher lived in San Francisco and he put in a lot of effort to include actual city landmarks and descriptions. Although I've only visited San Francisco once myself, I appreciate all the colourful details the setting adds - too often the radio program version of London can feel like a storybook-land, so the grounded setting sets it apart from Sherlock Holmes.
The lead character, Gregory Hood, was the owner of an export company. Although only an amateur sleuth, many of his cases would begin because Hood was involved in some valuable item which had just arrived in San Francisco. Unlike Holmes, Hood could fall for beautiful women (also, he had a real job). Just as Holmes had Watson, Hood was accompanied by his lawyer, Sanderson Taylor. Taylor's expertise in the law actually was helpful from time to time.
Unlike the Sherlock Holmes stories set in the past, Gregory Hood was set in contemporary times, which also made an impact on the program. During the Petri Wine days, the advertisements with Harry Bartell would sometimes be referenced in the body of the radio play. The lightness of the series can be heard in programs such as "South of the Border", an episode in which Hood is mistaken for a nobleman and caught up in foreign intrigue. At first, the episode sounds like a Prisoner of Zenda rip-off, but in the climax it turns out Hood's entire ordeal was just a practical joke played on him by "the great mystery writer" dubbed "Antonio"! (re: Anthony Boucher). "A fantastic plot. But you can tell Antonio that he overdid it," says Hood.
Initially, Gregory Hood was played by Gale Gordon. Gordon is best known as a comedic actor on programs like Our Miss Brooks but this role actually suited him fairly well - Gregory Hood wasn't stolid and stuffy like Sherlock Holmes, but he was a cultured and urbane man. Gordon had the perfect "cultured" voice that made his character sound very intelligent, but also wry and witty. The first 10 episodes of Gregory Hood still exist and they all star Gordon. For my money, he was the best Gregory Hood.
Elliott Lewis followed Gordon, but I don't find his performance very memorable. Lewis was a terrific actor with a lot of range, but his Gregory Hood doesn't sound much different than a stock character he'd played on Suspense. Five of Elliott Lewis' episodes of Gregory Hood still exist. After Lewis came Jackson Beck. I find Beck was best as a character player, not in a leading role. He tended to appear in shows with lower budgets and certainly, Gregory Hood was not an expensive show; by the time Beck arrived, Boucher and Green were gone. Only one of Jackson Beck's episodes of Gregory Hood still exist.
Sanderson Taylor's role was constantly changed. It was Bill Johnstone in the first episode, which I was pleased to hear, but although Johnstone continued to appear as supporting characters on the program he didn't return as Sanderson. The most prolific Sanderson was Howard McNear, who played opposite Elliott Lewis' Hood.
The best episode of The Casebook of Gregory Hood is almost definitely "The Adventure of the White Masters" (November 5, 1946), in which Hood investigates an American neo-Nazi group. It's sadly still a very timely topic but it's very interesting to hear fiction with neo-Nazis as the villains just a year after World War II! The mystery is a bit obvious but it does play fair with its clues.
I checked out the series because of Anthony Boucher. He was a fun writer, responsible for amusing tales like The Compleat Werewolf. I don't think his radio writing is anywhere near as good as his print but The Casebook of Gregory Hood was quite good fun.
For today's episode of Lights Out I bring you "Mungahra" from October 27, 1942. It's a pretty familiar set up - man murders someone then sees his face everywhere. It definitely puts one to mind of H. G. Wells' "Pollack and the Poorah Man." But this program works because of the manner in which Arch Oboler tells it - the strong audio devices which get across how haunted the protagonist is. It also succeeds thanks to a great performance by Elliott Lewis, who was not one of Oboler's usual stars (his wife Cathy Lewis also appears briefly).
Strangely, this story was adapted for television twice but Arch Oboler wasn't credited. The first adaptation was in 1952 on Chevron Theatre and the second time in 1954 for the Pepsi-Cola Playhouse. The scripts for these programs were credited to "Peter Ogden." I wonder if this was an alias of Arch Oboler; it's well-known that Oboler didn't like television. Perhaps he had a substitute name so that his own wouldn't appear in the medium he disliked.
Suspense excelled at placing its central characters into tense, desperate situations which either demanded great ingenuity on the protagonist's part for them to escape, or led to the protagonist's downfall. Sometimes the protagonists had committed crimes, then had to protect themselves from the law, other criminals or both. Other times the protagonists were upstanding people who maneuvered themselves into harsh situations; perhaps they worked too late at the office ("Very Much Like a Nightmare"), turned down a road they shouldn't have ("On a Country Road") or merely walked into a dark subway tunnel ("Subway Stop"). Today's protagonist accepts a ride from a stranger; terror ensues.
This version of "Drive-In" premiered November 21, 1946 on Suspense with Judy Garland in the lead role. Garland portrays a waitress at a drive-in who has to work a little too late and misses her bus home; a friendly customer offers her a lift and from there she's placed into a dilemma which can only be solved by her own cunning. You may download the episode from archive.org here.
The original broadcast of "Drive-In" was heard on January 11, 1945 with Nancy Kelly in the lead role. No offense to Ms. Kelly, but I prefer Garland's performance - especially with Garland acting opposite Elliott Lewis as the maniac. Still, if you wish to compare the two versions you can find the original broadcast at archive.org here.
Tomorrow: "If you must know, I'll tell you: they said there was something wrong with my mind."
In a well-circulated anecdote about EC Comics in the 1950s, we learned how they once swiped a plot from Ray Bradbury for their comic, only for Bradbury to confront them. Rather than suing the company, Bradbury opened the door to official adaptations, resulting in many EC titles advertising Bradbury's involvement on their front covers.
As I've learned more about the horror comics published by Atlas (aka Timely or Marvel Comics) during the same era, I've found plagiarism ran rampant in those days; to judge by the sheer number of rip-offs I've seen, it's little wonder EC thought they could get away with an uncredited Bradbury adaptation - everyone else was! Atlas swiped Bradbury's "the Small Assassin" on at least two occasions. If you know your short fiction of the era pretty well then you can easily recognize the stories which hijacked the likes of Nelson S. Bond's "Conqueror's Isle" or Carl Stephenson's "Leiningen Versus the Ants."
However, given the sheer number of pulps, magazines and anthologies being published in the first half of the 20th century, there are scores upon scores which simply vanished into the ether; heck, even authors who are remembered to this day (such as F. Scott Fitzgerald) haven't kept all of their short fiction in-print. "The Small Assassin" remains a popular tale, which makes the rip-offs easy to spot. Regardless, there are times when I ponder over Atlas' horror books and wonder... just how many of these stories were pilfered from tales I have never heard of?
Atlas began their run of horror comics in 1949 with three titles: Amazing Mysteries, Marvel Tales and Suspense; others would follow. At the time, the boom markets were in westerns, romance books and crime comics. These first three horror titles have much in common with the crime comics - in fact, after just two issues of horror, Amazing Mysteries switched formats to crime. Like Atlas' crime books, many of these early tales had an obsession with setting the time and place (month and year are almost always established on the opening page). Several tales contain framing devices wherein a narrator relates the supernatural proceedings to his audience, often needlessly. For instance, Marvel Tales#97 contains the tale "The World That Vanished" in which a man journeys to a hidden valley in China to discover a secret library with the complete history of Atlantis, but is told he can never leave the valley; the man reads the histories and then the real story begins as he learns how Atlantis was destroyed. There was a definite lack of economy in how the stories were being told, but horror comics were something new for Atlas - and comic book makers in general. It would take time for EC Comics' beloved "O. Henry-style twist" to become the norm.
And now, just like a poorly-conceived 1950 Atlas comic, the real point of this post: in 1949's Amazing Mysteries#32, there's a story called "With Intent to Kill!" in which a man murders his girlfriend, believing she's unfaithful; the surprise ending reveals she was dead of a disease hours before he shot her. Reading this tale, I was stunned to realize it was a familiar piece, but the revelation it was a rip-off just lead to more questions! "With Intent to Kill!" is a complete theft of Elliott Lewis' Suspense episode "Can't We Be Friends?" (which you can hear here). Lewis' story was broadcast July 25, 1946, three years before the uncredited comic book.
My lingering query: how did the adapter select Lewis' Suspense play?
As noted above, 1949 was the year Atlas began their Suspense series (7 months after this issue of Amazing Mysteries). Although the series' connection to the CBS radio program was tenuous at best, they proudly advertised the radio (and TV) show on their covers up to 1951; it probably helped Atlas' circulation as Suspense was an extremely popular show in its time. The first few issues of Suspense did adapt some familiar scripts from the radio Suspense... but for some reason these adaptations all dated back to 1942 when the radio program began its run under the (tepid) guidance of John Dickson Carr; the early issues of Suspense struggled with Carr's over-expository convoluted scripts and the comic book was certainly better for it to have ditched the 1942 clunkers in favour of their own material.
Looking at "With Intent to Kill!," Suspense the comic book would have been better off to have adapted stories from later in the radio series run (basically anything from William Spier's involvement onward). It still wouldn't have made Suspense a proper horror comic book - because Suspense was not a horror radio program - but the program's later system of employing (usually) first person narration would have been a better fit for comics than Carr's drawing room drudgery.
Although certain radio shows would be rebroadcast from time to time - such as Suspense's own "Sorry, Wrong Number" - in 1949 it would have been difficult to obtain a copy of a 1946 broadcast. Is it possible the creator(s) of "With Intent to Kill!" had excellent memories of "Can't We Be Friends?" Or had the initial arrangements to create a Suspense comic book at Atlas enabled them access to the original script? Did the creator(s) have a personal copy of Lewis' script or a transcription of the broadcast? Or could the identical plots just be a fantastic coincidence?
I have no solution to the problem I've described. I'm afraid I shall have to keep you in...
