I was practically raised in a movie theater. My dad managed a small one for a while in San Antonio, Texas. In April 1933, my mother was sitting in the back row, watching a second run of Rasputin and the Empress, when she went into labor with me. One of my first memories is sitting in the dark and watching cartoons when I was about three. When the grown-up movie started, Daddy would pick me up and I’d take a nap in his small office. Years later, in the 1940s, when I was living in Hollywood with Nanny, we would save our pennies and hit Hollywood Boulevard, sometimes seeing as many as eight movies a week! In those days, we would go to the “second-run” houses, where they would be showing a double feature, along with cartoons, newsreels, and coming attractions. (More bang for your buck.) Actually, the ticket prices were twelve cents for me (under twelve years old) and a quarter for Nanny IF we got in before the prices went up at 6:00 p.m. So, going to four theaters in one week…Bang! Eight movies! That was when I fell in love with the likes of James Stewart, Betty Grable, Mickey Rooney, Judy Garland, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Humphrey Bogart, and Rita Hayworth, to name some favorites.
My best friend, Ilomay, and I would often pretend like we were these stars and act out the movies. Little did I dream that one day I’d have my own show and REALLY get to “act out” and lovingly satirize these films, complete with gorgeous costumes, sets, and a twenty-eight-piece orchestra, on television! Of course not! How could I? There was no television in those days!
Fast-forward to our variety show. It was a given that I’d want to send up the films I grew up on, plus others that impressed me as I got older.
I have to stress here that we never intended to satirize the actors personally, even though we would be dressed and made up to look like them, wigs and all. We only wanted to kid the movie itself, or the genre. However, there were a few actors who weren’t too happy with our takeoffs.
“Mildred Fierce” and “Torchy Song”
In 1976, we did a spoof of the famous Warner Bros. movie Mildred Pierce, starring Joan Crawford, for which she won an Academy Award in 1946. The original movie is the story of a hardworking mother, the long-suffering Mildred, who adores her selfish daughter, Veda, and spoils her rotten. Veda goads her mother about their lack of money, and in response, Mildred proposes opening a small restaurant, which disgusts Veda even more. Mildred is introduced to the oily Monte Beragon, a wealthy playboy. Mildred marries him for Veda’s sake even though she doesn’t love him.
The story is basically a triangle involving a loving mother, her two-timing husband, and her self-centered daughter, which leads to tragedy.
We called ours “Mildred Fierce” and stuck pretty close to the original screenplay. As Mildred, I wore a brunette wig and heavy black eyebrows made of real hair, which we glued on, and every outfit was fitted with huge shoulder pads just like those Joan Crawford wore in the movie. Harvey was a brilliantly smarmy Zachary Scott (Monte), and Vicki was equally brilliant as Mildred’s scheming money-hungry daughter, Veda, played by Ann Blyth in the film.
We open with Mildred in a police station confessing a murder she committed to the captain (Tim). She’s told to wait her turn because there’s an old lady ahead of her reporting her lost parakeet.
My glued-on “Joan Crawford” eyebrows were truly expressive.
The captain calls Mildred to his desk and she begins to tell her story…
In a flashback throughout the sketch, we see Mildred spoiling her “precious” daughter rotten. Veda rules the roost, and Mildred is a wimp where her daughter is concerned. Veda hates her mother and insults her at every turn.
At one point, determined to run away, Veda rifles through Mildred’s purse for money. “I belong in a mansion! I’m not hanging around this dump any longer!” Mildred pleads with her rotten daughter to stay, and before she walks out the door, Veda hauls off and slaps her mother silly.
MILDRED: (To herself, still reeling from the slap, but forever forgiving Veda) “I know a little girl who got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning!”
Enter Monte Slick (Harvey), a lecherous millionaire playboy who makes a play for Mildred.
MONTE: “Why don’t you come out to my beach house and I’ll show you the ocean.”
MILDRED: “I’ve seen the ocean, chum.”
MONTE: “Not my hunk of it.”
As Mildred asks him to leave, Veda returns wanting more money.
VEDA: “Honestly, Mother, these are only twenties!” (Seeing Monte, she lays on the sweetness) “Oh, hi, sir.”
MONTE: (Coming on to Veda) “Well hell-o! Don’t tell me this enchanting child is yours, Mrs. Fierce.”
MILDRED: “Yes, she is enchanting, isn’t she?”
Mildred introduces them. Veda is very impressed.
VEDA: “The Monte Slick? The irresponsible, lecherous playboy and owner of the Slick Mansion?”
MONTE: “In the glorious flesh.” (Turning to Mildred) “Let’s stop playing games. How about that little jaunt to my beach house?”
Mildred rebuffs his advances and Veda takes her mother aside.
VEDA: (Baby talk) “Mommy, you want your wittle baby Veda wif you forever, don’t you?”
MILDRED: “Of course I do! You know that, my darling!”
VEDA: “Well, this is your big chance, dimwit! This is your chance to get your wittle Veda a mansion and a beach house and furs and jewels…and a new daddy!”
MILDRED: (Stunned) “You mean…?”
VEDA: “That’s right. Marry this joker quick before he gets a real good look at you.”
Mildred thinks that wouldn’t be forthright because she doesn’t love Monte.
VEDA: “Mother, ‘forthright’ does not buy Ferraris!” (Bordering on a tantrum) “Can’t you just do me this one little favor?”
MILDRED: (Giving in) “All right. I’ll try.”
She turns back to Monte and says she’ll accept his invitation but that she “plays for keeps.”
MONTE: “Marriage?”
MILDRED: “Yes.”
MONTE: “One of those decent dames, eh?”
MILDRED: “You make ‘decent’ sound ‘indecent.’ ”
MONTE: “I can also make ‘indecent’…pretty ‘decent.’ But let’s get down to cases. You’re saying that no marriage, no beach house?”
MILDRED: “That’s right. No hanky, no panky.”
MONTE: “No contract, no contact?”
MILDRED: “No ring, no ring-a-ding-ding.”
Monte says marriage is not for him. Veda takes the bull by the horns and comes on to him.
VEDA:“I don’t blame you, Mr. Slick. You’d be taking on a wife AND a daughter…in the flower of her youth, both living there in the same mansion with you!”
Monte changes his mind. This is a great suggestion. As he hugs Mildred, he reaches over her shoulder and plants a kiss on Veda.
Time passes, and Mildred, now a rich and successful businesswoman, returning home to the beach house, discovers Monte and Veda in a passionate embrace. Veda hits Mildred with the news that she and Monte are in love and will marry after he gets a divorce! Humiliated, Mildred accepts this news and exits, saying, “All right. I don’t need a brick to fall on my head.” As she’s walking out the door, a brick falls on her head.
“No hanky, no panky! No ring, no ring-a-ding ding!” The sketch Joan loved.
Monte then tells Veda he’d never want to be with her, calling her a “little twit.” Veda shoots him. Mildred reenters, telling Veda that it’s okay if she wants Monte. Upon seeing Monte’s dead body, she asks, “You still want him?”
VEDA: (In her “little girl” voice) “Mommy! Mommy! Monte fall down and go boom! You’ve got to help me! I can’t go to the big bad jail!”
MILDRED: “I don’t know what to do, this is a real lulu, Veda! I think it’s time for a little discipline.” (Picks up the phone to call the police)
VEDA: (Desperate) “You can’t turn me in! I didn’t spoil me, YOU did!”
MILDRED: (Stung by this accusation, hanging up the phone, her bottom lip quivering) “You’re right. I’ll take the blame.” (Pause) “But, Veda, I think you’d better skip the prom.”
Mildred tells Veda she’ll have to lay low for a couple of days: “Here’s fifty thousand dollars, that should hold you for a day or two.”
The scene ends with Mildred saying to herself, “Kids…they sure keep you hopping!”
Back to the police station. The captain tells Mildred that they’ve captured the real killer. Veda is brought in, but Mildred convinces the captain to let her daughter go, because “Monte was a letch and deserved what he got!” As she and Veda are exiting, the girl starts bad-mouthing her mother. We hear a gun shot. Mildred has let Veda have it and, reentering the police station, begins another confession.
THE END
My Joan Crawford to Harvey’s Michael Wilding in our spoof of Torch Song. The sketch Joan didn’t love.
After the sketch aired, I got a call from Joan Crawford herself! “Carol, I absolutely loved it! You guys gave it more production value than that f——g Jack Warner!” I howled with laughter and, of course, I was thrilled with her response.
A year later, we spoofed another one of her movies, Torch Song. In it, Joan is a tough Broadway musical star, Jenny, alienating her colleagues with her neurotic demands for absolute perfection, who then winds up falling for her blind rehearsal pianist (Michael Wilding). We called our version “Torchy Song,” and Harvey’s character, instead of being blind, was written as a myopic piano player saddled with Coke-bottle eyeglasses, who keeps walking into walls. Though the actual movie itself wasn’t a hit, our audience got a kick out of it.
Joan didn’t.
I heard through the grapevine that she didn’t care for my interpretation, thinking it was mean. That wasn’t my intention at all. Again, I wasn’t doing Joan Crawford, I was doing her character in the movie. I always felt bad that she wasn’t happy with that sketch.
“The African Queen”
Steve Lawrence is in the Humphrey Bogart role, as Charlie the uncouth, drunken boat captain, and I’m in the Katharine Hepburn role, as Rosie, a prim and virginal spinster. They are trapped together in his rickety boat, The African Queen.
Steve Lawrence was one of my favorite acting partners.
Dirty, greasy Charlie comes on to Rosie, and she fights him off at first. After a while, she begins to like the idea of romance, and a “dance” begins, where she kisses Charlie and then resists her sudden passionate urges by throwing him overboard. He climbs back on board, and Rosie begins the routine over again: kissing him, getting herself all dirty and greasy in the process, and resisting him by throwing him overboard. Every time he climbs back into the boat, Rosie starts kissing him and throwing him overboard again, getting more and more grease and dirt on her clothes and face, until finally, resisting him no longer, she jumps into his arms, saying she will give in to his “debauchery” and will be all his to love.
Charlie says, “Y’know, Rosie, I learned somethin’ from a lady like you…”
“What, Charlie? What?”
He replies, “This Rosie, this…” and throws her overboard.
I remember this sketch wasn’t working during rehearsals, but Steve and I came up with the idea of tossing each other overboard again and again…getting filthy dirty in the process, and it worked! It was one of our most physical sketches, but miraculously neither one of us was the worse for wear. Also, this is just more proof that Steve Lawrence is a brilliant comedic actor and why he was one of my favorite guests.
Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé
Eydie Gormé and hubby Steve Lawrence were two of my dearest buddies, dating back to 1960, when we all met when I was doing The Garry Moore Show and they were his guests. As a result, because of their talents and our friendship, they became regular guests on my show, not only as singers, but also as sketch performers, with Steve appearing twenty-five times and Eydie thirteen.
They never appeared together on my show because they saved their act for their nightclub appearances and the television specials they hosted.
Steve was one of my very favorite sketch partners. He and I did several takeoffs on classic movies such as The Postman Always Rings Twice, Double Indemnity, Laura, The African Queen, Gilda, The Godfather, From Here to Eternity, and The Roaring Twenties, to name a few. He’s as great a comedic actor as he is a singer…and that’s saying plenty! If our show was running long, I remember he said to me several times, “Hey, cut my song, but don’t cut the sketch!” One time after our show had been in syndication, showing only the sketches and not the musical numbers, Steve and Eydie were approached by some teenagers in an airport, and one of them said to Steve, “Hey, you’re that funny guy on the Burnett show!”
Steve was driving to Television City in Los Angeles for our rehearsals once, when he was pulled over by a cop for making an illegal turn on Fairfax Avenue. He and Eydie were still living in New York at the time and were staying in a hotel and renting a car that week, while he was a guest.
The cop got off his motorcycle and approached the car.
COP: “Lemme see your license.”
Steve reached for his wallet, and…oops! He had left it in the hotel room. Apologizing profusely, he tried to explain to the officer who he was, and that he was just in from New York. It was pretty evident the officer didn’t recognize him.
STEVE: “Officer, please believe me, I’m here to do The Carol Burnett Show!”
COP: “Yeah, and I’m on Carson tonight. This your car?”
STEVE: “No, sir. It’s a rental.”
COP: “How do I know you didn’t steal it?”
STEVE: “No, really!” (Seeing his script binder on the seat) “Look, see? Here’s the script in a binder with my name on it! ‘STEVE LAWRENCE’!”
COP: “Yeah, so where’s your identification?”
STEVE: “In my wallet in the hotel room!!!!” (Brilliant idea) “Look, I tell you what…here’s the script. Turn to page eleven. That’s where I do a sketch with Carol.” (Hands the script to the cop) “Now, I’ll say my lines, and you read Carol’s…that way you’ll know it’s me because I know the lines!!!” (The cop turns to page 11)
STEVE: “Ready?” (The cop nods) “Hi, honey, I’m home.”
COP: (As Carol, “rote-like”) “Why-didn’t-you-call-and-tell-me-you-were-going-to-be-so-late?”
STEVE: “Gee, I meant to, honey, but I got sidetracked by an old army buddy, and…”
COP: (As Carol) “And-you-expect-me-to-buy-that-lame-excuse?”
This had gone on for a while, with the cop and Steve acting out the sketch on the sidewalk at Beverly and Fairfax, at ten o’clock in the morning, when the cop abruptly stopped, handed the script back to Steve, and said, “This ain’t funny.”
And then there was Eydie Gormé. Eydie, of the glorious voice and fantastic range. We sang several duets together, one time ending a medley saluting Hollywood songs at the foot of the Hollywood sign. As the medley came to an end, the camera, in a helicopter, pulled back, showing the sign and the two of us getting smaller and smaller, until we were dwarfed by its huge letters. As a “joke,” our director, Dave Powers, had the helicopter keep going until it was out of sight, and Eydie and I were left stranded on the hill under the hot sun for about twenty minutes. Looking back, it was funny…but at the time neither one of us laughed very much. What’s that old saying? “A lot of comedy is tragedy plus time.” In other words, slipping on a banana peel isn’t funny as it’s happening, but telling about it later can be hilarious. Now, looking back on the two of us stranded beneath the Hollywood sign, strikes me as (somewhat) funny…
Eydie was fearless and fun.
Eydie was fearless when it came to expressing an opinion. I remember a duet with her that ended with our walking downstage toward the audience on a two-foot platform that came to a halt several feet before the rest of the stage ended. Our instinct was to step down off the platform, walk farther downstage, and belt out the ending so we could be a lot closer to the studio audience than the platform would allow. We both felt that ending the medley that way was much more exciting. We were blocking the number on Thursday in the studio before the actual taping on Friday. As usual on Thursdays, Dave was directing the cameras and talking to us over a microphone from his perch in the booth. As Eydie and I stepped off the platform, Dave’s voice boomed from the booth: “Ladies, don’t step off the platform. Let’s take it again.” Eydie and I obediently backed up and began to sing the last few phrases from the medley, while walking downstage on the platform. Yet again, our instincts won out and we both automatically stepped down and walked to the end of the stage.
DAVE: (Over the microphone) “Ladies!!! Please stay on the platform!!”
Once again, we tried and once again, we couldn’t help ourselves.
DAVE: (Losing patience) “C’mon, girls…”
I have to explain something here. At that time back in the seventies, if a woman had her own show on TV and “spoke up,” she could be labeled a bitch, whereas if a man (such as Gleason, Berle, Caesar, etc.) did the same thing, he was labeled assertive, strong, smart, etc. Hence, I seldom ruffled feathers. I would somehow find a way to ease into expressing an opinion and still be “ladylike,” thus avoiding being a “bitch.” For instance, when a particular sketch was “lacking,” so to speak, instead of saying to the writers, “We have to fix this, it’s not funny,” I would tap-dance around the criticism by saying, “Gosh, you guys, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, but I’m having trouble making this work, can you help me?” Yep, that’s how it was back then. At least, that’s how I was.
Back to the duet. Eydie whispered to me: “Hey, what’sa matter with you? It’s your show! You can walk wherever you damn well please!”
ME: (Nicely to Dave) “Hey, Dave…is there a reason you don’t want us to walk downstage more?”
DAVE: (Loudly) “YOU ARE NOT LIT FOR DOWNSTAGE!”
EYDIE: (Loudly back to Dave) “Well then, why can’t you hit us with a spotlight…LIKE IN REAL SHOW BUSINESS???”
I wanted to kiss her feet.
We lost our beloved Eydie in 2013. Thank God her glorious voice can be heard on all the beautiful recordings she made. I miss her…a lot.
“Went With the Wind”
The classic 1939 movie Gone With the Wind was making its TV debut in 1976, so…I introduced this sketch by saying, “For those of you who ran out of Kleenex, and were unable to watch it for the whole five hours, we’ve put together our own mini version to let you know what you missed!”
We called our takeoff “Went With the Wind,” and it’s mostly famous for the brilliant “curtain rod dress” Bob Mackie came up with for my character, Starlett O’Hara. The costume is now in the Smithsonian. When I made my entrance at the top of the stairs in that outfit, the studio audience went wild. It was one of the longest laughs we got in our eleven years and is listed by several critics as one of the funniest sight gags in the history of television.
Added to that, the sketch was beautifully written. It was over twenty minutes long and managed to cover every key element in the movie.
During rehearsals, Harvey was concerned and worried about doing Clark Gable’s iconic Rhett Butler, Rat Butler in our version. He didn’t want to give in to a common imitation of Gable, and was in a bit of a tizzy all week, until…he got into the costume Bob created for his character. Added to that was a great wig, and the mustache, and voilà! Harvey walked, talked, and even looked like Gable!
The sketch opens with a sour-sounding orchestra playing an out-of-tune version of the movie theme over a picture of an old Southern home and the words “Alabama Terra Plantation. Somewhere in Georgia.” There’s a party going on and Starlett O’Hara is eagerly waiting for the man she loves, Brashley (Tim Conway), to arrive. Vicki as Starlett’s slow maid, Sissy (doing a great Butterfly McQueen imitation), enters jumping up and down and screaming, “Miss Starlett! Miss Starlett! Miss Starlett!” Starlett slaps her silly to calm her down, and Sissy tells Starlett that Mr. Brashley has arrived! Starlett excitedly starts jumping up and down, but is dismayed when Brashley shows up with his new bride, Melody (Dinah Shore), who is sweetness personified…an absolute angel. Furious, Starlett suggests to Melody that she stick her head in the punch bowl: “I’m sure it could use a little more sugar!” Sweet Melody happily obliges, “All right!”
Alone and distraught, Starlett picks up a large vase and hurls it across the room, only to be caught by Rat Butler, who makes a play for Starlett and is rebuffed. The party fizzles when it’s announced that war has broken out. As the guests are leaving, the self-centered Starlett is upset and tries to get everyone to stay and have fun because, “Fiddle-dee-dee! It’s the shank of the night!” Rat and Brashley go off to join the army, leaving Starlett, Sissy, and Melody…who announces that she’s going to have a baby!
STARLETT: “A baby! Shoot!”
Sissy confidently assures Starlett that she knows all about “birthin’ babies!” When Melody promptly goes into labor, Sissy goes berserk and Starlett slaps her silly. While Melody is giving birth behind a sofa, and Atlanta is burning, Starlett delivers a dramatic monologue about survival: “As God is my witness, I won’t be defeated! If I have to lie, cheat, and steal, I’ll never go hungry again! If I have to make tuna casseroles and go without my grits, this war won’t get the best of me! I ain’t down yet!” During all this, the music swells louder and louder, and Sissy is lazily circling Starlett and the sofa singing and drowning out Starlett’s harangue.
(In the heat of the moment, instead of saying, “If I have to lie, cheat and steal,” what came out of my mouth was “If I have to lie, steet and cheal”! This goof is alive and well on YouTube.)
The second act finds Terra in shambles and the women in rags. Starlett owes $300 in back taxes. The war is over and Brashley returns. Both Melody and Starlett are thrilled to see him. Starlett asks if he has money to pay the taxes with. “No.” However, he informs them that Rat Butler made a fortune during the war. Melody takes Brashley upstairs to meet his son, “Brashley Jr.” Slightly disappointed, Brashley says, “I was hoping you would name him after me.”
Starlett sees a way out of debt by getting the money from Rat, who is approaching Terra. Starlett doesn’t want him to see her so poor and “looking like the insides of a goat’s stomach!” Sissy suggests she hide behind the drapes and a lightbulb goes off in Starlett’s head! She pulls the draperies down and heads up the staircase, telling Sissy to keep Rat occupied. “I’ve got me a dress to make!”
There’s a knock on the door and Sissy hysterically screams, “What’ll I say? What’ll I say?” She slaps herself silly in the face and says, “I’ll think of somethin’!” Rat enters, looks around at the war-torn room, and says, “I really like what you’ve done with the place.”
SISSY: “So how are you, Captain Butler?”
RAT: “How am I? You ask that of a man who’s just returned from battle? Who’s seen brother pitted against brother, who’s seen the world he loved crumble beneath his feet? And you ask” (Angrily raising his voice), “ ‘HOW ARE YOU?’ ‘HOW ARE YOU?’ ”
SISSY: “Oh, purty good, thanks, and you?”
Starlett and Rat and “The Dress.”
Starlett appears at the top of the staircase in her green velvet dress with the curtain rod intact, and slowly walks down to meet Rat. (Because of the huge audience response, I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing myself!)
STARLETT: “What brings you to Terra?”
RAT: “You, you vixen, you. Starlett, I love you and that gown is gorgeous.”
STARLETT: “Thank you. I saw it in the window and I just couldn’t resist it.” (A great line to follow a brilliant sight gag.)
After Rat provides the tax money, even though Starlett rebuffs his advances, he picks her up and carries her kicking and screaming upstairs. (Harvey had a rough time, because he kept stepping on my hoop skirt, but we kept going.) When they arrive at the landing, Starlett is impressed with Rat’s strength and tells him, “I’m yours.” Panting, he responds, “Not now, Starlett, I’m pooped!”
Brashley enters the landing and Starlett comes on to him. An angry Rat takes a swing at Brashley and misses, socking Starlett, who falls down the entire staircase, landing in a heap on the floor. Both men rush to her, and Melody appears on the landing saying she’s going to “That Big Plantation in the Sky” and collapses. Brashley runs up to her, and she asks him to send Starlett up to see her. Starlett rushes up the stairs to be with Melody, who sweetly says she thinks of her “darlin’ Starlett as her sister.”
“I’ve been thinkin’ about our friendship all these years and I want you to know how I really feel.” Melody then puts her hands on Starlet’s shoulders and shoves her down the stairs, where she lands in yet another heap on the floor.
(I tumbled down those stairs six times that day! Two times in the morning run-through, two times in the dress rehearsal, and twice in the air show. Oddly enough, I didn’t hurt myself at all. It’s somewhat of a miracle, because, as I said before, I was never taught how to do all the crazy stunts I did over the eleven years. I just did them. Once in a while, I’d wind up with a bruise or two, but that would be the worst of it. I remember this particular one clearly because I instinctively let my body go “loose” when I was tumbling down those stairs, knowing that if I stiffened up, I would probably cause some damage. Also, I fell slowly, so maybe that’s why I came out unscathed. The comedy was enhanced by our sound effects man, Ross Murray, producing several brilliant “tumbling” and body fall sounds right on the spot.)
Melody blows a good-bye kiss (the way Dinah always did on her shows) and goes to That Big Plantation in the Sky. Brashley is grief-stricken and leaves. Starlett finally wants to be with Rat, but he wants nothing to do with her, heading for the door to leave as she cries, “But, Rat, what’ll I do? What will become of me?”
RAT: “Frankly my dear, I don’t gi—”
Starlett slams the door in his face before he can finish the sentence. Sissy enters.
SISSY: “What did he say?”
STARLETT: (Echoing Rat) “ ‘Frankly my dear, I don’t gi—!’ ” (Hysterically crying) “Oh Sissy! Without Rat, what’ll I do? What’ll I do???”
SISSY: “Frankly, Miss Starlett, I don’t give a damn.” (She exits after slapping Starlett silly)
THE END