Episode 312: Wrestling from Chicago (November 3, 1950)

What I watched: Two matches from the NWA Wrestling from Chicago promotion that took place on Friday November 3, 1950. The matches were Mighty Atlas vs. Great Moto and Gorgeous George vs. Hans Schnabel, with commentary by Russ Davis. I’m not certain if these matches would have aired live, but if not they were likely televised during ABC’s Wednesday night wrestling show.

Starring: The one new wrestler in today’s match is The Mighty Atlas, an incredibly jacked man, especially by 1950s standards. He unsurprisingly was a former strongman, known for lifting an anvil with his teeth. Born Morris Shapiro, a name which is mentioned in this match, he was trained as a strongman by his father, who had emigrated from Russia, before moving to a more modern circus in pro wrestling. Despite hailing from Brooklyn, he had his most success as a wrestler in the Mid-West and South.

What happened: The first match sees Great Moto taking on The Mighty Atlas, who is also identified as Maury Shapiro. Moto is already in the ring as we start, fanning himself and wearing Japanese sandals and a kimono, while Atlas comes wearing a bursting buttoned-up shirt. Commentator Russ Davis notes that the com

Great Moto has a tremendous fit.

mission has forced him to come to the ring without his manager Fuji. Moto does a ritual to ward off the spirits, while the crowd laughs.

Finally, the two men lock up, and Atlas immediately gets Moto into a bearhug, causing him to bail to the ropes. Moto tries to beg off before hesitantly engaging again. Atlas lands a hard forearm which causes Moto to flee from the ring. Moto pulls his opponent’s hair, getting even more boos. Atlas lifts him up into a vertical suplex position and then dumps him face-first onto the mat, followed by some more rough throws and a football tackle.

Moto makes a comeback with some “judo licks”, or open-hand chops. Atlas takes him over with a hip toss, leading to yet another spot with Moto begging for mercy. Russ tells us that we should “trust him about as much as a bear with a sore paw”, which is a nice little folksy idiom. Moto gets in some chokes up against the ropes in the guise of submission holds. Atlas fights back with a hammerlock as the pace of the match slows to a crawl.

The boys finally get into some slapping, with Moko raking the eyes just as it’s announced there are only three minutes left in the match. Atlas gives him a body slam. The two lock knuckles for a test of strength, which Moto loses, and falls into what would today be called an armbar. The bell rings for the twenty-minute time limit, meaning that the match ends in a “no decision.”

In our main event, Gorgeous George makes his entrance, complete with his manservant and an ostrich-feather fan. Commentator Russ Davis (?) comments on the ochre shade of the manservant’s jacket, and laments that we don’t yet have colour TV. Hans Schnabel, a no-nonsense Midwestern man, is not having any of this. George refuses to have the referee search him, looking indignant.

In modern wrestling Gorgeous George’s valet would be a fan favourite.

The bell rings, and George scampers around the squared circle before getting a single-leg takedown. Davis notes that in Illinois there’s a 4-count to release an illegal hold, as opposed to the 5-count modern wrestling fans will be familiar with. (Well, I added that last part.) Hans is able to get some success with a headscissors, but George largely remains in control, including pulling on Hans’ hair. George puts his hands behind his back and appears defenseless, then goes for a cheapshot. Oh George, you scamp!

George continues to beg off, holding his back. This is where I’d expect a nice hard cathartic forearm, but instead Hans just kind of clinches up with him and does a few short punches to the stomach. George applies a reverse chinlock that has both men on the mat. Hans finally unleashes with some punches, only for George to catch him with two consecutive “flying mares.”

At the start of the second fall George plays around some more before pulling Hans into a cradle close to the ropes, allowing Schnabel to grab the bottom strand. George comes up with a leglock, and Hans grabs at his hair, much to George’s horror. Hans gets a pair of vertical suplexes (described by Davis as “a backflip from way back what” and by the announcer as a “blockbuster”) to win the second fall and level the match.

The third fall starts with Hans pressing George against the ropes and pummeling his midsection before hitting a bodyslam. Schnabel slams George back-first into the corner, in a very modern move, and George flops out of the ring. Hans continues attacking George as he tries to get back in the ring, and shoves the referee aside, leading to the customary DQ. George comes back in with a folding chair and treis to retaliate, before the official gets in between them. Gorgeous George is declared the victor after the disqualification.

What I thought: This is another pair of bouts from Chicago that showcase the emergence of TV wrestling and what things in the squared circle looked like in the middle of the century. Unfortunately, this also includes wrestling’s long history of crude racism. We’ve seen the Great Moto character before, but this time he really hits every Japanese trope, from the throwing salt to the displays of cowardice. Even Russ Davis joins in with some cringe-worthy broken English jokes.

Of course, these tropes probably had an especial appeal to the 1950 audience, for whom the Japanese were very recent war enemies, with all the propaganda and dehumanization that comes with it. The portrayal of the enemy as being simultaneously overly strong and cartoonishly weak, fearsome but cowardly, fits in with typical wartime stereotyping. But even as the war faded into memory, and Japanese wrestling gained a strong fandom in America, this type of Japanese character would persist well into the 1990s. Even today, WWE often gives its Asian wrestlers stereotypical roles – just ask ninja Akira Tozawa or magical schoolgirl Sarray.

Part of the reason George got so over was that his mannerisms were legible from the cheapest seat or the blurriest television screen.

In terms of in-ring action the Moto/Atlas bout is also a fairly poor one, hurt by some stiff in-ring movement and a lack of a finish. The Gorgeous George and Hans Schnabel match is better, although not the best we’ve seen from George. We get a more conventional face/heel dynamic than in some of our past bouts, with the cowardly George taking advantage of the local hero Hans.

More and more in these 1950s matches I’m noticing that there’s a lot of relatively static grappling, what would be called “rest holds”, interrupted by brief bursts of fast-paced action between each fall. The slow/fast alternation would basically stay in wrestling, although the fast portions would grow longer and and the slow periods shorter until often in modern matches there are only a few minutes of nominal grappling at the start. We also get an early example of one of wrestling’s favourite tropes when Gorgeous George tries to attack his enemy with a folding chair. So, while we’re still probably in the “historical interest” era of wrestling, there’s a lot to chew on.

Coming up next: We look at a new sitcom in Trouble with Father.

Episode 311: Kukla, Fran and Ollie – As You Like It (November 3, 1950)

What I watched: An episode of the early children’s show Kukla, Fran and Ollie. The series starred the titular Fran Allison, with all other roles being played by series creator and puppeteer Burr Tilstrom. “As You Like It” was directed by Lewis Gomavitz aired on Thursday, November 3, 1950 at 7:00 PM on NBC. Video is available on the official KFO YouTube channel.

What happened: Kukla reminds Fran that today is the production of As You Like It, which Beulah Witch was inspired to put on after seeing Katherine Hepburn perform in the same way. It’s okay, I didn’t know about it either. Fran and Kukla aren’t in it, but she needs to sing a “Shakespearean song.” Fran gives an intro to the production, doing a Colonel Crackle impression. She gets a notice that the role of Phoebe will not be performed, as Mercedes has fallen into the dishwasher, necessitating a “capsule form” of the play.

The real Colonel Crackle begins the narrative with a soliloquy as Orlando, a man of noble station upset at his brother. He refuses to cut his speech short, and as such is yanked off stage. The Colonel notes that there was a competition for the role of Rosalind which involved both Madame Oglepuss (whose first name we learn is “Ophelia”) and Beulah Witch wearing boys’ clothes to see who could better pull off the cross-dressing scenes. I would have liked to see that.

The two women take the stage, and get immediately mixed up in their expository conversation. Fran interrupts to tell them to get a move on. Fran reminds the audience of an event promoting the KFO record in Chicago, and sings a brief song. Cecil Bill is freaking out because the set for the wood of Arden isn’t complete yet. Madame O (we’re still not on a first-name basis) delivers an ad for the RCA Victor TV cabinet in her near-incomprehensible high society accent, including an appearance from a silent Linwood.

We finally get to see Beulah in boys’ clothing, and she makes sure to rub her victory in over Oglepuss. Ollie finally appears in an extremely fancy hat and gives his version of the famous “All the world’s a stage” speech, before getting mixed up with other famous soliloquys and settling on a nautical song instead. Fran arrives and cheerfully tells him that the play is going terribly.

I need to organize my living room like this.

Things are going so bad that Beulah decides that she’s quitting. Katharine Hepburn would never. This causes the others to throw in the towel as well. This leaves Kukla and Fran to take up the roles of Orlando and Rosalind, singing a love song to each other. Ollie applauds them before they sign off to another RCA Victor ad.

What I thought: “If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not. And I am sure as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths will for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.”

The curtain fell, then come back up for the bows, then fell again. Katharine Hepburn breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how many times she did the play, she was still certain that she would make a hash of it in every split-second before she took the stage.

Backstage, she found a bouquet of roses in her dressing room. When she turned around, her dear friend Laurence Olivier was standing there. Katharine embraced him. “Laurence! Why, you should have told me you were coming. I may have given a better performance.”

“No such thing would be possible, my dear,” said Laurence. “I just thought I would welcome you in person to the fraternity of us who have laboured for the Bard. He is a difficult master, but a rewarding one.”

“Yes, it has been a great change from Hollywood studios,” said Katharine. “It’s just…”

“And they had such beautiful outfits.”

Laurence raised a concerned eyebrow. “Something troubles you?”

“I was watching the television yesterday evening,” said Katharine. “And I saw a group of puppets performing the same comedy. And compared to them, I was but a child screaming his half-learned lines.”

“Oh Kate,” said Laurence. “We are but the Salieri to the Kuklapolitans’ Mozart. Every true actor must make their peace with the fact that, in this generation, the true thespians are all made of felt.”

Coming up next: We stay in Chicago for a wrestling show headlined by Gorgeous George.

Episode 310: The Lone Ranger – “Thieves’ Money”

What I watched: The eighth episode of the second season of The Lone Ranger, a kid-friendly Western created by George Trendle and starring Clayton Moore as the titular hero and Jay Silverheels as Tonto. “Thieves’ Money” was written by Curtis Kenyon, directed by John H. Morse, and featured guest stars John Doucette, Charles Watts and David McMahon. “Drink of Water” aired on Thursday, October 26, 1950 on ABC at 7:30 pm., and is available on YouTube.

What happened: A gang of crooks is examining some counterfeit money, marveling at the accuracy of the forgery by the ringleader Pierre Dumont (like the TV channel). However, they’re arrested by treasury agent Jim Collins (McMahon), who promises them they will be mistreated in prison. He was able to follow Dumont because of his fancy lad affectations, including wearing gasp cologne. But there’s one more crook, who shoots Cobb in the back. Dumont hatches a plan to impersonate Collins to keep the feds off their trail.

Men, what is stopping you from dressing like this?

The Ranger and Tonto finally ride into the story looking for a place to camp, where they find Collins’ body with Dumont’s papers on him. The Ranger has met with Dumont before, and notices that the body doesn’t match his memory. In town, Dumont’s impersonation has fooled the local sheriff, Andrews (Watts). The Ranger and Tonto arrive in the office, and act friendly with Dumont, handing over the papers and asking him to identify the body.

In the morgue, Collins gives a positive ID. The Ranger and Tonto search the area they found the body, finding a covered up trail. They follow the trail to the outlaws’ cabin, which stinks with cologne, and find briefcases of counterfeit money. The Ranger tells us that “counterfeit money can do just as much damage as the most vicious outlaw.” They resolve to set a trap for the crooks.

The bad guys have obtained a hotel room, and the goons hide in the closet while Dumont welcomes the Ranger and Tonto. The Ranger tells them that they found the hideout cabin and the counterfeit money. Dumont invites them to join in an ambush at the cabin. Of course, it’s actually an ambush against the heroes. The Ranger has already convinced the sheriff that Dumont is disguised as Collins, based on the whole cologne thing. He resolves to send a telegram to Washington to get a description of Collins, but this will take time, so the Ranger decides to go with a quicker and more violent method.

The heroes walk towards the ambush, but instead of heading in disarm Dumont. They tell him to put on his own Lone Ranger mask and head in (hey, there’s another mistaken identity.) Meanwhile, the Ranger sneaks in the back. Dumont yells his true identity at him, providing the proof that the authorities need (although the Sheriff is nowhere near, but whatever). We get some fisticuffs with the two goons, which ends with the two men tied up and taken into custody. The sheriff jovially informs them that they’ve been caught by the Lone Ranger, and it’s hi-ho Silver, away.

What I thought: This is another Lone Ranger episode that really relies on the charm of the villain of the week to distinguish it from the usual fare. Dumont is notable for his supposed intelligence and intellectual sophistication. The show has characters repeatedly comment on his wits, but ultimately he’s undone by his very illusion of being high class, as well as the Lone Ranger’s less ostentatious intelligence.

“Men, hand me my Axe Body Spray.”

The script for “Thieves’ Money” really doesn’t seem to trust the audience too much, making sure that every step in this duel of wits is explained in dialogue multiple times. It also takes the relatively easy shortcut of trying to make people care about the relatively banal crime of counterfeiting by having the perpetrator also do a murder.

Still, there are some good performances, featuring Lone Ranger all star (and Golden Potato winner) and John Doucette as Dumont as well as Charlie Watts imbuing all of the sheriff’s limited role with down-home bonhomie. Even Jim Collins makes a relatively big impression. So, even when the scripts are a little dumbed-down, the Lone Ranger’s troupe of regulars feel like they’re doing their best.

Coming up next: Kukla, Fran, and Ollie attempt a little Shakespeare.

Episode 309: Kukla, Fran and Ollie – Oliver Dragon, Interior Decorator (November 2, 1950)

What I watched: An episode of the early children’s show Kukla, Fran and Ollie. The series starred the titular Fran Allison, with all other roles being played by series creator and puppeteer Burr Tilstrom. “Oliver Dragon, Interior Decorator” was directed by Lewis Gomavitz aired on Thursday, November 2, 1950 at 7:00 PM on NBC. Video is available on the official KFO YouTube channel.

What happened: The show opens with a conversation between the show’s least comprehensible characters, Cecil Bill and Dolores. In the grand cartoon tradition, they naturally understand each other perfectly. Bill leaves, and Kukla comes up to ask what she’s doing. Kukla calls Fran in to hear what she has to say. Apparently she’s been learning “toolie talk” from Cecil. Kukla is jealous of her for being able to learn the language as a child.

Ollie pops in and pays tribute to director Lewis Gomavitz, or “Gommy”, who just turned 23. It was a lot easier to get into TV back in the day. On the topic of learning foreign languages, Ollie reveals that he sometimes thinks in “dragon language.” Um, according to my D&D books, it’s called Draconic.

They get on the subject of decorating the house. Fran and Ollie say they like to decorate their own houses, but Ollie objects, saying that they’re costing professional interior decorators their jobs. Ollie decides to take on this role, telling Kukla and Fran to take on the made-up roles of “Edgar” and “Lucille.” Ollie will be both husband George and the decorator.

The story begins at breakfast time, with “Edgar” and “George” getting upset at things not being ready. Husband and wife bicker about their annoying relatives. The subject of complaint turns towards all the furniture and appliances that need to be replaced. Edgar and Lucille browbeat George into asking for a raise. When George gets dispirited, Lucille sings a song about how much she loves him. This cheers up George enough to agree to hiring an interior decorator.

Fletcher Rabbit appears as the mailman, delivering an already-opened package of Kukla and Ollie ice cream spoons. This leads into the typical Sealtest plug. When we get back to the story, Fran has adopted a smart hat, while Kukla has made his voice even more shrill. Edgar and Lucille visit Mr. Dragon the decorator.

Mr. Dragon instructs Lucille to throw out her favourite picture, a statue they got for their wedding, and even the curtains of the stage. He brings out some fancy rugs to show them. Lucille blanches at the price of the redecoration, but decides that they can raise money by going back to their old standard of selling lemonade musically.

What I thought: This episode really highlights the diversity of Kukla, Fran, and Ollie. We open with a little bit of old-fashioned silent comedy razmatazz between Dolores and Cecil Bill, followed by a fairly lucid conversation about the value of learning a second language. We then get into the meat of the episode, which is a combination of domestic drama and a satire of consumer culture. All of this with musical numbers and ad breaks too.

The conversation about learning “toolie talk” and “dragon language” particularly hit home for me. As someone who has been hacking through learning basic Japanese off and on for my adult life, and occasionally adding Russian or Spanish to the rotation, I often wish I had picked up a second or third language when I was young. (Although childhood French classes didn’t make me fluent.) The same applies to physical sports or visual art or any number of things I brushed off as a kid when my neuroplasticity and time to study was at a lifetime high. I assume that this segment of KFO was born out of a similar adult thought or conversation, with perhaps sending a message to kids to take advantage of their growing brains while they have them.

The interior decorator is basically Ollie in as much of a button-up shirt as he can manage.

The little two-act play with Ollie as an interior decorator was also pretty interesting. We get a little domestic drama that paints household life as a bit of a nightmare. Husband and wife hate each others’ families, and the baby is a screeching goblin in the way only Kukla can be. It’s not exactly The Glass Menagerie, but it’s a lot darker than it probably needed to be.

The actual appearance of the decorator is a nice bit of satire that harkens back to “Lemonade”, one of the series’ best episodes. Both episodes draw on the way that things which were once a simple domestic duty have become professionalized industries, with personal taste being drowned out by collective fashion and commercial appeal. It does feel like they didn’t leave themselves enough time to fully explore the premise, but overall it’s a very fun bit of comedy.

Coming up next: The Lone Ranger investigates some funny money.

308: Pabst Blue Ribbon Bouts – Sandy Saddler vs. Charlie Riley (November 1, 1950)

What I watched: The November 1, 1950 boxing match between then-NBA featherweight champion Sandy Saddler and Charlie Riley. The bout was broadcast live on CBS as part of the Pabst Blue Ribbon Bouts series, and is available to view on YouTube.

Starring: At 24 Sandy Saddler was at the peak of his powers as a boxer. Known for his surprising punching power, Saddler was thrust to fame in 1948 when he became the first man to ever knock out legendary slick boxer Willie Pep. The two had fought two more times after that, trading wins, with Saddler losing and regaining the unified featherweight belt, as well as picking up the NBA super featherweight title along the way. Like Ezzard Charles, Saddler would never be as famous or well-liked as the man he took the title off him, but he was a great boxer in his own right.

Charlie Riley was a comparative unknown, but was popular in St. Louis, where a majority of his fights took place. He had racked up a record of 56-13-2, including his own world title match against Pep earlier in the year, where he was knocked out in the fifth round. This would be another, perhaps his last, brush with the sport’s true elite.

What happened: The fight took place in Riley’s hometown of St. Louis. Riley was aggressive out of the gates, attacking Saddler’s body in the first two rounds as well. Saddler got his share of shots in too in these rounds, including busting up but it was a far more competitive and exciting fact than the commentators and spectators were expecting.

In the remaining eight rounds, Saddler turned to his defense and veteran gamesmanship to regain control of the fight. The action fell into a familiar pattern of Riley pushing forward and sometimes landing, followed by Saddler clinching and punishing him with shots and uppercuts. The judges (and referee) weighed in with a majority decision for Saddler. After the bout, the announcer interviewed both fighters and put over their tenacity, as well as the PBR sponsorship.

The footage is very blurry, so it’s hard to tell what exactly

(I originally wrote up a much more detailed, blow-by-blow summary, but the computer ate it. Maybe a short summary is more readable anyway.)

What I thought: Most of the boxing matches that have popped up as part of this project have been preserved for their historical importance (mostly the final matches of Joe Louis’s legendary career.) This fight, however, is not all that historically significant, but has still been preserved (the YouTube video is a rip from ESPN Classics) for one reason: it’s a great fight.

The highlights are the first two rounds, where Riley takes it to the champ and the fists are flying furiously, but even the latter eight rounds where Saddler uses a somewhat more negative style keep up a fairly high rate of action. It’s the archetypal boxing narrative: the local hero pushes the champion hard, but ultimately falls just short in the end. It’s Rocky in St. Louis.

One thing that might be confusing to modern fans is not the fact that a world champion was facing a regional-level fighter (this happens often enough in the modern sport) but that this was a non-title, ten round bout. This was actually fairly common for high-level boxers in this era, who fought frequently and often did so as more of an exhibition for the local crowd than to put together a match that would interest the world.

This was already Saddler’s thirteenth match of 1950, and he would fight one more before the year was out. Only two of these fights had were for one of the two world titles that Saddler currently held. He even felt on consecutive weeks on two occasions. Nor was this year an outlier: this was Saddler’s 126th fight, and he only debuted in 1946. For boxers in this era, the goal was to make as much money as possible in a short period of time, and no one was exactly worried about CTE.

The ring announcer mistakenly announced this as a split decision instead of a majority one. What a blunder!

When you fight this often, avoiding damage becomes more of a priority than inflicting it. Hence skilled boxers often developed a defense-first style, and this fight shows Saddler applying these dark arts in the later rounds: a lot of clinching, punching on the break, and maintaining distance. This style is even used by a lot of boxers today, who fight far less frequently and for far greater paydays. But, as Riley’s efforts demonstrate, an aggressive puncher challenging a defensive boxer can still make for a tremendously exciting match.

Sports on TV: It’s been a while since we did one of these! The most watched and important sporting event in the fall of 1950 was of course the World Series, in which the AL champion Yankees swept the NL’s Phillies 4-0. The individual games were closer than the overall series, with three decided by one run, but the sweep contributed to the sense of Casey Stengel’s Yankees being utterly dominant. Full games aren’t available, but you can watch a half-hour highlight movie on YouTube.

What else was on: The network competition was fairly weak in this late Wednesday timeslot. DuMont aired the quiz show version of Broadway to Hollywood, while ABC featured a two-hour block of wrestling from Chicago (some of which we’ll get back to in a little while.) NBC ran the game show Break the Bank and the anthology series Stars Over Hollywood. On New York local TV, WOR aired its own boxing telecast, with amateur bouts from Ridgewood Grove, and WPIX aired the National Horse Show at Madison Square Garden, which was seemingly quite a big event at the time. Without having actually seen the other shows, Blue Ribbon Bouts feels like a clear winner.

Coming up next: Ollie has yet another new profession on Kukla, Fran, and Ollie.

307: Kukla, Fran and Ollie – “What To Do For H. Allen Smith” (November 1, 1950)

What I watched: An episode of the early children’s show Kukla, Fran and Ollie. The series starred the titular Fran Allison, with all other roles being played by series creator and puppeteer Burr Tilstrom. “Halloween” aired on Friday, October 31, 1950 at 7:00 PM on NBC. Video is available on the official KFO YouTube channel.

What happened: We open with Beulah cleaning up from last night’s Halloween festivities, including passing off the still uncarved pumpkin to Jack and an old mask to Lynwood. Beulah sings a song inspired by her post-Halloween melancholy. Kukla pops up to explain to us how to give a backhanded compliment. That’s a crucial social skill to teach the children.

Fran visits Kukla, and tells him that they have a guest from near New York. Kukla makes some outlandish guesses, but of course it’s H. Allen Smith, noted “humourist.” Kukla is worried about being the butt of the joke, and swears to be nice to Allen. Ollie pops up and shamelessly flatters Fran. He hits his head looking for his mother’s brooch, and Kukla has to give him a cold compress. The Lone Ranger isn’t the only show with concussion risks.

Kukla wants to do something special for Allen, such as putting on a big show. He doesn’t really have any good ideas though, and at one point suggests doing “an Indian show.” Please, I just got done wagging my finger at Howdy Doody. They resolve to think on it. As Fran is preoccupied, Ollie interrogates him and urges him not to let Fran talk him out of their ideas.

We get a sidebar from Fletcher. Now that Halloween is over, he’s switching his focus from teaching how to carve a pumpkin to teaching how to carve a turkey. When Kukla shuts this down, he decides to instead lecture us on the 1951 Ford.

Ollie does have a great hat for the occasion, though.

Once the ad break is over, Fran presents Ollie and Kukla with their parts in a play, where she rejects their attempts at romance but keeps their gifts. The puppets find this script unacceptable and throws them away. They want to do a Western play called “Westward, Ho”, but there aren’t a lot of roles for women. Fletcher is back on about wanting to do “The Bohemian Girl” with his drum, but Kukla again shuts him down.

Jack eventually supplies them with a Western-themed number to do, “Them Dudes.” They perform it happily, but are still looking for a big enough show for Allen. Ollie promises us a big surprise at our local Ford dealers. Surprise: it’s the 1951 Ford, with Ford-o-matic drive. I’ve gotta get me one.

What I thought: H. Allen Smith is described on the Wikipedia search bar as an “American journalist, humourist, and chili fancier.” His humour books were tremendously popular during the 1940s, where they were passed around among WW2 soldiers. He claimed to have drank the first legal drink following Prohibition, and later competed in the first-ever chili cookoff. He sounds like a fascinating figure, but he’s not actually in this episode.

Instead, this is kind of a guest star episode without a guest star. The characters debate about what they should do to welcome Smith, and in true KFO fashion spend most of the time arguing about it. I’m not sure if this is leading up to an actual Allen Smith appearance, as the forthcoming episode titles don’t mention him, so maybe this was just for a dinner later in the night or something, but it makes for a fairly entertaining episode.

We also have a little bit more of the weird quasi-romantic relationship between the two main puppets in Fran. Kukla does a lot of flattery to the point of flirting with her, whereas Ollie seems to talk to him as a henpecked husband. There certainly wasn’t any real attempt to entertain the idea of romance, nor was there any such relationship between Fran Allison and Burr Tilstrom, but it seems to be a role that they occasionally slip into. With the size and species difference between Fran and the puppets, they could sometimes be mother and child, sometimes co-conspirators, sometimes adolescent boys and the older woman entertaining their flirting. But they always, in one sense or another, loved each other.

Coming up next: We go back to ringside to watch boxing champ Sandy Saddler in a tough fight.

Episode 306: Howdy Doody (November 1, 1950)

What I watched: A 1950 episode of children’s puppet show Howdy Doody., created by Roger Muir. The series starred “Buffalo” Bob Smith as the host and voice of the puppets and Bob Keeshan as Clarabell, with additional voices by Dayton Allen, Rhoda Mann and Bill LeCornec (although I’m not sure who played this episode’s guest character). This episode was directed by Bob Rippen and written by Ed Kean. It aired on November 1 at 5:30 PM on NBC and is available to view on the Internet Archive.

What happened: After the customary opening song, Howdy regales us with “the Howdy Doody Rumba”, including a couple of culturally questionable “ay carumba”s. We then launch into this week’s mystery, as “Chief Chickapaw” was drawing a picture of his “Indian Reservation” and inadvertently revealed something. This leads to a tableau of the chief being held hostage by Buffalo Bob and Clarabell. Bob thinks the Chief was drawing a map of the Howdy Doody Circus instead, and his suspicions are soon confirmed.

Bob can’t believe this script either.

The extremely European-sounding Chief says that he was drawing the picture as a gift, and only didn’t want to show it because it wasn’t ready. Bob seems to buy this completely. The Chief signs the picture with a “T” instead of a “C”, which gets Bob’s suspicions going again. Bob tries to relate him to the other Native American characters they’ve had on the show. This leads into another song on the piano, “The Friend Song.”

Chief says he needs a little more time to finish his work, which leads into today’s old time movie, which involves a couple of dudes trying to catch a horse while hanging from a harness. Chickapaw explains how his warpaint is very significant, which leads into Buffalo Bob encouraging kids to get the Howdy Doody colouring book, where kids can draw their own face on the last panel. Howdy appears with an unsettling-looking parrot puppet, and sings to encourage kids to get their parents to buy things.

The Chief is finished with his very simple drawing, and says that his tribe, the Chigoochies, were caught in a conflict between the Sigafoose and Tinka Tonka. Not sure these are historically accurate names. Apparently there’s also a princess with a magic necklace in there. Clarabell sprinkles water on the drawing to simulate the upcoming rainy season. The Chief ultimately decides he’s going to help “the Feather Man” and the Sigafooses, as it’s easier to attack downhill in the rain. He presents Bob and Howdy with a ceremonial necklace, but ends up giving it to Mr. Buster instead.

Bob goes over to the “Shoedoodle” to advertise an array of Poll-Parrot children’s shoes, including “really rugged he-man Oxford, like dad wears.” He reflects on the episode’s events, and finds it strange that the Chief gave beads to Mr. Buster. The camera pans down to find the Chief writing in his notebook, with Suspense organ music playing. What a gripping cliffhanger, a shame we’ll never see the ending.

What I thought: Look, I genuinely don’t go into these articles looking to condemn 73-year-old TV shows for being racially insensitive, because it’s a waste of time. But I don’t think you need to be a social justice warrior to be a little uncomfortable with the appearance of the nefarious “Chief Chickapaw” in Howdy Doody. The series seems to have created a whole cosmology of made-up “Indians”, rendering them as a kind of fantasy world. It makes The Lone Ranger look like Reservation Dogs.

The plot of the episode is that Chickenfoot is being suspicious but the credulous Bob and Howdy buy into everything he’s saying, believing he’s going to be friendly. This requires the Chief being shady in a way that will be detectable by small children, resulting in Howdy and Bob looking like total idiots. It’s an interesting tack, making the children’s show host an unreliable narrator, but it also has the effect of training kids to see Indigenous people as untrustworthy even if they seem to be benevolent.

This is like the map at the start of a fantasy book.

But, as always, the main purpose of Howdy Doody is to sell shit to kids. At this point the ads and merchandise have metastasized to take over a big portion of the show. Howdy is largely separated from the main action, sitting at his piano to play songs from the recent record, also featured on Kukla, Fran, and Ollie. Today’s main sponsor, Poll Pocket Shoes, now has its own puppet and set, blending into the larger action.

Obviously every show on traditional television depends on advertising. As a medium, it exists to sell shit. But there’s something especially uncomfortable when Buffalo Bob urges young kids to ask their parents to buy them a particular model of shoe. Together with the Native American stuff, all of this makes this episode of Howdy Doody a very weird and somewhat insidious watch.

Coming up next: Kukla, Fran, and Ollie plan to put on a show for a visiting humourist.

Episode 305: The Cisco Kid – “The Will”

What I watched: Season 1, episode 10 of The Cisco Kid, a Western drama starring Duncan Renaldo as the eponymous Cisco and Leo Carillo as his sidekick Pancho. “The Will” guest starred familiar faces Gail Davis, Riley Hill, and Robert Livingston. This episode was written by Royal K. Cole, and was directed by Derwin Abrahams. This episode has an air date of October 31, 1950, although as a syndicated series exactly when it aired would have varied by market, and it is currently available on Tubi.

What happened: Pancho is writing a letter to Sister Maria, asking Cisco how to spell “fried chicken.” There’s a kind of vague joke about them actually having fried rabbit. A man in a red shirt is harassed by two horseriders in plaid, who promptly begin shooting at him, leading to a chase. Cisco and Pancho chase the assailants off, and the man explains his story.

This leads to a flashback scene where the man, Bob, is working as a freight driver, carrying money back and forth to the bank. However, the banker finds that the boxes are full of rocks and dirt, and Bob gets locked up for stealing the money. Bob’s boss Cantwell eventually bails him out of jail. Cisco agrees to help prove Bob innocent, while Pancho jokes about Cisco being a good friend to everyone but him. Ouch.

There’s a fun spot where Pancho puts a guy on a dolly and sends him into a stack of crates.

Cisco and Pancho interrogate Barker, the boss of the freight line, which includes holding him at gunpoint and locking him in a cabinet. It’s okay, because they know he’s a bad guy. The shooters from earlier come in and break out Barker, leading to a fistfight. Sadly, our heroes do a crappy job tying them up, so the bad guys escape.

It turns out this was intentional, so that Cisco and Pancho can follow the goons. They find that Hanley, who seemed to be helping Bob, is also in on it. It’s now time to introduce this episode’s pretty lady, Bob’s sister Ruth (Davis). Hanley says he’ll be taking her to his farm, but Cisco and Pancho give chase, and shoot Hanley. Ms. Drake doesn’t trust Cisco for obvious reasons, but doesn’t put up too much resistance to going along with them, where she meets Bob and has her suspicions assayed.

This turns out to be a plot for Cantwell to inherit the Drakes’ estates, having already got Bob to sign away his power of attorney when he was bailed out of jail. The sheriff is skeptical of this story but agrees to help Cisco and company. There’s a brief exchange of gunfire, and the bad guys flee. Pancho and Cisco do some more quasi-humour before bidding us farewell.

What I thought: Another day, another mistaken identity Western episode. Here, we have an innocent man framed to appear guilty by a conspiracy of a number of very interesting-looking man. The plot is a little too complicated, but it’s all in service of the larger idea of the Western: the nominally outlaw hero, in this case the dreaded Cisco, lives in an upside-down world where he is the only squeaky-clean hero. Unlike the Lone Ranger, Cisco never goes on at length about how he has a feeling something is off, but rather his inherent roguishness just leads him to correct injustice.

The action in this one is pretty good, but a lot of the seemingly required elements of a Cisco Kid episode, like a pretty girl for Cisco to woo or some humorous situations for Pancho to misunderstand, are introduced in a particularly unenthusiastic manner here. I’m normally a bit of an easy marker for comedy, but I’m not sure the quasi-wordplay between Cisco and Pancho would make even a kid laugh. Ah well.

Coming up next: November’s gonna find us returning to the big top for Howdy Doody.

Episode 304: Kukla, Fran and Ollie – “Halloween” (October 31, 1950)

What I watched: An episode of the early children’s show Kukla, Fran and Ollie. The series starred the titular Fran Allison, with all other roles being played by series creator and puppeteer Burr Tilstrom. “Halloween” aired on Friday, October 31, 1950 at 7:00 PM on NBC. Video is available on the official KFO YouTube channel.

I guess Fran is in costume as an usher or something.

Ollie tries to spook the audience from behind a pumpkin, then sings a song about being happy Halloween is here. He sings that he’ll wear “his new tailor-made white sheet”, which could come off the wrong way. Beulah is unhappy, despite this being her night, and Ollie tries to cheer her up. Despite his efforts, she persists in saying “Halloween, humbug!” Ollie recalls past experiences of Beulah enthusiastically doing magic tricks on Halloween. She alludes to problems in her life but won’t elaborate.

Fran enters to try to help solve the mystery. Ollie leaves and is replaced by Kukla, who calls on Beulah to try to get to the bottom of things. Beulah is still not talkative, but says that the other witches aren’t coming, and that there was trouble at the recent witch convention in Chicago. Just wait until 1968, girl. It gradually comes out that the witches voted to move the convention, and put an inexperienced witch in charge.

Kukla and Ollie put on some rather grotesque-looking human masks and sing a song about trick or treating. The title trio make plans to make some ice cream, and disappear off stage. While they’re gone, Fletcher Rabbit comes in, eager to finally have time on the show with a pumpkin. Again, another statement that could be taken the wrong way. He starts giving a very dry lecture on how to carve a pumpkin. He’s about to start in with a hammer, but Kukla snatches the pumpkin away, leading Fletcher to conclude that it’s a waste of time.

Beulah finds that someone’s been playing with her test tubes, and gets good and angry. She pours all the contents of the tubes into a measuring cup, and is delighted when they fizz up. The now cheered-up Beulah sings “That Old Black Magic.” She pulls out her vacuum-powered broomstick and is ready to celebrate Halloween. The title trio celebrate their plan to cheer her up, and resolve to go out trick or treating.

What I thought: In my somewhat foolish attempts to impose an ongoing narrative onto Kukla, Fran and Ollie I’ve focused on a few previous episodes which seemed to be building up to a big Halloween episode with a convocation of Beulah’s witch coven. I wondered how the series would pay this off with its limited set-up. Would there be new puppets to represent the other witches? Human guests? In the end, KFO gets around the limitations by not doing a big Halloween episode at all, and having the non-event of Beulah’s gathering be the main plot of the episode.

I side with Fletcher’s frustration that this pumpkin is not carved.

Beulah’s friends standing her up never really feels like that much of a let-down for the viewers. We still get to see all of our favourites doing Halloween things, including some genuinely unsettling puppet masks, and we also get the kind of emotional narrative that Kukla, Fran, and Ollie is best at. Watching the crew try to cheer up Beulah could help kids understand how to deal with disappointments in their own lives. (And aren’t holidays usually disappointing in one way or another?)

In a sense, this episode isn’t a subversion of expectations at all. The most archetypical holiday narrative is about someone who doesn’t want to participate in the holiday, whose skepticism can be despondent or angry – think of the Grinch, Scrooge, Charlie Brown. Over the course of the narrative, the protagonist learns how to appreciate the holiday, despite its imperfections. And so, at the end of Halloween, Beulah is ready to get back to her witchy best.

Coming up next: A probably not Halloween-themed Cisco Kid.

Episode 303: Studio One – Wuthering Heights (October 30, 1950)

What I watched: An episode of Studio One, an anthology drama series created by Worthington Miner. This week’s episode was an adaptation of Emily Bronte’s novel Wuthering Heights, starring Charlton Heston, Mary Sinclair, Richard Waring, June Dayton, Lloyd Bochner and Una O’Connor. The adaptation was written by Fletcher Markle and Lois Jacoby and directed by Paul Nickel. This episode first aired on CBS at 10:00 PM on October 30, 1950, and is available to watch on YouTube.

What happened: We open amidst a windy winter scene, with a man in a top hat knocking at the door. The stranger asks if he can stay over, but the two people within tell him to leave, saying that the house is worse than the blizzard and that “the master” won’t be happy to find another person here. The friendly maid Nelly (O’Connor) takes the man to a guest bedroom, where he finds an inscription on the windowsill. When he tries to close the window, he’s interrupted by Charlton Heston, who keeps the window open for “Cathy.”

We then flash back to many years ago, where Catherine and Master Hindley are young siblings fighting with each other and appealing to their jovial father. Their father brings in a dirty young boy, who was apparently starving on the streets of Liverpool. Hindley is a real asshole to the new kid, while Cathy settles on teaching him how to speak proper English. Without a real name for himself, the family dubs him Heathcliff. He does look a little bit like a young Charlton Heston.

Three months later, Cathy and Heathcliff are fast friends, frequently spending time on the moors, thus thoroughly pissing off Hindley. We cut to this romantic scene, with young Heathcliff wearing what looks a lot like a leather jacket, and quickly segue into a later scene, with the grown-up actors (Heston and Sinclair) brooding on the same moor. Heston chomps down on the line “It’s getting darker Cathy. Not with the sun going down, but… in our hearts.” Hindley (Waring) has become the master of the house, and is further tormenting them. He shows up to personally banish Heathcliff to the stables.

Who wouldn’t throw their life away for this man?

Cathy falls and hurts her leg, and Heathcliff brings her to their neighbours, Edgar (Bochner) and his sister Isabella (Dayton). Heathcliff and Edgar are both very dramatic about a sprained ankle, but Edgar takes the opportunity to put the rizz on. Back at the Heights, Hindley complains about Heathcliff to their maid Nelly. He discusses a potential match between Cathy and Edgar, which makes an eavesdropping Heathcliff angry.

Hindley plays on Heathcliff’s poor status to tell him he has no choice. Cathy returns, and is evidently smitten with Edgar, but refuses to give up the moors. Heathcliff smashes his hands through the glass after overhearing this. She confesses to Nelly that she belongs to Heathcliff. After overhearing part of the conversation, Hindley comes in, shouting that Heathcliff has stolen his horse and fled.

After a Westinghouse spot advertising the ability to watch big college football games (like Harvard vs. Yale!), we return to find that Wuthering Heights has fallen upon poverty, with a drunken Hindley taking out his rage on his servants. Hey, at least you still have servants, bro. He is visited by Heathcliff, wearing a cool cloak, who now apparently has some money to support the house. Meanwhile, Cathy is living in luxury, creating art alongside Isabella.

Heathcliff visits Catherine, and says he should have married her. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to take “no” for an answer this time, but does eventually leave. Heathcliff plays dice with Hindley, who has wagered away all his money and lesser property. He finally puts Wuthering Heights on the table, and loses it. He then tries to strangle Heathcliff, but gets punched out. This guy is really kind of a jobber.

I love anime food.

Catherine and Heathcliff get back to their old habit of fooling around on the moors. Things turn less playful when Catherine mentions that she is, you know, married. Heathcliff tries to get her to do a “blood brothers” thing. He heads to a dinner party at the Grange, but not before we see Hindley has a gun and is trying to work up the nerve to shoot him.

At the dance, Heathcliff puts the rizz on Isabella. Cathy takes her aside and tries to warn her that Heathcliff is only interested in her fortune, but she thinks Cathy is insulting her. Heathcliff tells Isabella that Cathy repels him, but that “I’d only destroy you.” I have to use that line some time. Scandalized by Heathcliff’s behaviour, Edgar says he should never visit again, but Cathy objects. They receive a letter from Isabella, saying she’s eloped with Heathcliff. Catherine freaks out.

The second ad break pitches us on a new Westinghouse refrigerator with a special defrosting system. We return to a sick Cathy seeing Heathcliff in the mirror. She begs Nelly to take her to the Heights again. Nelly tells a drunk and depressed Hindley that Cathy is dying, and he threatens to kill Heathcliff again, but shrinks when the man actually appears with Isabella in toe. He’s constantly berating her, saying that he’s trying to get her to hate him, and it seems to be working. Nice fellow.

Cathy is still dying of sadness, confessing to Nelly that there’s evil in her heart. She hears Heathcliff shouting for her outside the window, and obsessively lurches towards it. She runs into him and begs for them to be together, and he pleads for her to haunt him. Well, I have some good news about what genre of story you’re in. This takes us back to the “present”, with Hindley and Isabella as two of the wretched figures drinking together. Heathcliff is found on the moor, digging up Cathy’s grave amidst howling winds, and this is our (somewhat abbreviated) conclusion.

What I thought: I only recently read Wuthering Heights for the first time. As I’ve mentioned previously, I loved Jane Eyre, but I’ve had difficulty with the Brontës’ other works. Maybe it’s just my diminished attention span since my grad school days, but I found Wuthering Heights to be something of a slog, hundreds of pages of brooding without a really strong propulsive plot. Obviously it was a hugely influential book in the history of gothic literature, but as I get older I’ve become more willing to just admit it when I don’t enjoy reading a Great Book.

The Studio One version of Wuthering Heights was a bit more my speed. The novel is a difficult one to adapt due in large park to its baroque plot structure, which involves multiple time frames, a story-within-the-story frame narrative, and two different characters called Cathy. Studio One trims away the next-generation storyline which takes up much of the book’s last portion, and creates a more focused narrative based on the Catherine and Heathcliff relationship that everyone remembers.

One of the Westinghouse ads this week features a housewife proclaiming “Finally, I’m free!” about a new refrigerator, showing how modern appliances were pitched as liberatory for women.

The visual format also helps to make this narrative more memorable to me. Even with the relatively cheap sets of 1950 television, the visual image of Cathy and Heathcliff on the moor helps to sell this as a romance the characters are desperate to return to much more than the abbreviated script would do on its own. The sets also do a good job contrasting the atmosphere of the two estates – the doomed Wuthering Heights and the proper and innocent Grange.

None of the characters have a great deal of psychological depth, especially villainous Hindley, but the talented cast do their best to make them memorable. Charlton Heston is not a great fit for a Byronic hero, as in Jane Eyre – he’s not a man you can imagine society looking down on. But his raw charisma and masculine presence make up for that, and if nothing else it makes it immediately clear why Catherine and Isabella can’t resist him despite all logic.

Whatever my gripes about Emily Brontë’s prose, Wuthering Heights is still a vital story, and one that set the template for many romance narratives today, pairing a noble woman with a primal, less civilized but undeniably magnetic men. The tropes introduced by Bronte are still present in contemporary shows like Outlander. Studio One leaves out a lot of the book’s wrinkles, but is effective at conveying its core appeal, which is all you can really ask a one-hour adaptation to do.

Coming up next: It’s finally time for Halloween on Kukla, Fran and Ollie.