Irving Cohen was invented for SCTV, born of necessity when two of the show’s writers, Paul Flaherty and Dick Blasucci, asked me to create an old Jewish songwriter character for a sketch they were writing. Paul is the brother of my friend and SCTV castmate Joe Flaherty. One of Joe’s recurring SCTV bits was “The Sammy Maudlin Show,” in which he played the titular star of a cheesy, clubby talk show. In this new sketch, Sammy’s Ed McMahon–like sidekick, William B. Williams (John Candy), had left Sammy’s show to launch his own, The William B. Show. My character was meant to be the kind of depressing third-tier guest to which lesser talk shows, such as William B.’s, must resort to fill their airtime.
A lot of people think that Irving Cohen is based on the prolific Tin Pan Alley great Irving Berlin, because both Irvings were/are notoriously prolific. But this is wrong on two counts: (1) Irving Berlin actually wrote good songs; and (2) Irving Cohen was largely inspired by Sophie Tucker, a veteran singer and former vaudeville entertainer who made frequent appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show when I was a kid in the early 1960s. She had a deep, mannish voice and seemed ancient (she was actually in her seventies), and whenever she came on, she’d start in with a declaration along the lines of “You know, Ed, in the old days, they had a little ting they called vaud-dih-ville!”
One afternoon I was idly watching the movie Broadway Melody of 1938 on TV, and there was Sophie standing beside a young Judy Garland, telling her, “You know, in the old days . . .” Jesus! I thought. Even then she was talking that way! She must have had, like, one year when she was current.
At any rate, when Paul and Dick told me they wanted this old Jewish trouper, I knew precisely which influences and references to draw upon, and exactly how Irving would present himself: shriveled, irritable, smoking a huge cigar, and moving gingerly out onto the stage at a rate of about three inches a minute. Paul and Dick, not to mention Joe and John, seemed stunned by how fully I inhabited Irving right from the outset. I’ve been dragging him out onstage—very, very slowly—ever since.
IRVING COHEN
You know, in da old days, dey had a little ting dat dey used to call vaude-dih-ville. And it was a chance for da kids to learn their craft. Whether it was da guy with the dogs jumping through the hoop-type ting, or da Russian kid without the green card throwing cutlery at his common-law wife.
I just had a near-death experience and got to speak with God’s kid, Jesu. And I’m here to announce, he says he’s coming back to Earth—but first he’s got to revisit da tree million planets in the universe where dey didn’t nail him to a cross!
He said heaven is exactly like Earth, except up there, the outlet stores don’t have so many fat people.
Then we played cards, but he’s a horrible poker player. I can always tell when he’s bluffing, because his hand starts to bleed.
Before dey sent me back, God, who has a much higher voice than you’d tink, confessed to me dat He’s sorry about da terrorism, da hurricanes, and da earthquakes and war and famine and flood and disease . . . but den, He gets moody whenever He’s trying to kick wheat and dairy.
I’ll let you all in on a little show-business secret. Justin Timberlake? Third-generation octoroon.
In de old days, celebrity-type people didn’t live in the world of delusion. Madonna thinks she’s Jewish because she studies Kabbalah. Sorry, Madonna, you can’t be Jewish if you look like every Jewish man’s second wife.
If you’re a singer, I don’t need to hear you talk about your religion. If you’re a model, I don’t need to hear about your politics. And if you’re a lesbian, I’m all ears.
I tink I hear a song coming on. Gimme a C! A bouncy C!
(Singing) Girl-on-girl action is my kind of ting
And if one is an Asian, my bell’s gonna ring
From Gertrude Stein to Rosie O’D
Lovely lesbo loving is my cup of tea
Da da da
Dee dee dee
And whatever the hell else you wanna put in there
(Back to speaking) You tink you’re in pain? Last night my doctor had to give me a prescription for urine softener.
Another showbiz secret: Pat Boone? Lubavitcher Jew.
I remember when Cole Porter got into dat horrible, horrible horse accident. I said, “Cole, you’ve always been luckier when somebody’s riding you.”
I don’t want to say Cole was a sexual deviant, but it’s da first time anybody fell from da bottom of a horse.
Den dere was the always-bickering and tight-with-a-buck conjoined Siamese twins Chang and Eng. Dey were living with me in a thirty-two-story walk-up right around da corner from da old Paramount. One night Chang, or maybe it was Eng, came into my room and said dey wanted to break up. I sat ’em both down and said, “Boys! Stick together. You need each other because you’re money in da bank. You have dat special ting dat some performers work an entire lifetime trying to steal! And most importantly, you share a spleen.”
Da problem with today’s songwriters is, dey’re just ripping off what I did years ago. “Send In da Clowns”? I wrote da same tune back in 1910 under the title “Send Up Some Towels.”
Back in my day, minstrel shows were performed by white men in blackface. Not like today, with da black men in da blackface. I remembah telling Ben Vereen as he sat in his makeup chair, “Why gild da lily?”