Let's Try the Artificial Sweetener Angle

There are just so many things you can write about a star when there’s really nothing new to talk about.

In Jack Benny’s case, I suppose that speaks well toward his longevity in show business, but once he settled into television, it proved to be a challenge for columnists. After all, he had been on the air for so long, what possibly could be said about his coming fall season that hadn’t been said before?

Such was the challenge of the New York Herald Tribune’s TV columnist, who rose to the challenge in her paper’s edition of October 8, 1958 (the column was syndicated as well). She managed to find something.

Jack Benny's Not Stingy with Time
By MARIE TORRE
NEW YORK — JACK Benny is in New York on a business trip to extend an annual hello to his sponsor, his CBS boss Bill Paley, and members of the press. The practice has paid off in good will.
Benny's attention to the amenities of public relations, not to mention the fact that he's a helluva comedian, has kept his sponsor (Lucky Strike) happy for 15 years and has enabled the comedian to enjoy the status of top dog at Mr. Paley's network. As for TV reporters . . . well, naturally, they're flattered no end when a CBS man calls and says "Jack Benny is coming to town and he wants to talk to you."
Normally, it's the other way around. And sometimes, to the frustration of a reporter tracking down a performer in the headlines, we find the star doesn't want to talk to us.

But Benny has never minimized the value of publicity, and he's always ready to talk — even when he has nothing new to say. When he was asked about "changes" in his TV series, for instance. Everybody in TV, you know, feels the need to refurbish every other year or so.
"Changes?" Benny echoed over the breakfast in his hotel suite. "No, I'm not changing anything. There's nothing to change. I don't have a format. The situations hinge on the guest personalities, and since the personalities are different in each show, each situation is different.
"Frankly, we're all very happy with the way things are. The sponsor's happy, too. Do you know that in 15 years, I have never had any criticism from the sponsor about the commercials I integrate in the script. Not once. Every year Paul Hahn — he's the president of Lucky Strike, you know — comes to California with his wife and we all get together for an evening. First thing Hahn usually says is, 'Well, your shows have been great,' and then we all go out and have a good time."
In the interests of an "angle," we turned the subject to his wife, Mary Livingston, inordinately TV-shy last season.
"Oh, I have an awfully hard time putting Mary to work," Benny said, "she gets nervous when she works. She loves show business as an observer, but not for herself. Unless I come up with a show idea which positively requires her appearance, she won't do anything."
The subject of Mrs. Benny yielded nothing in the way of news; maybe he had some fresh opinions on the inability of other TV comedians to match his lasting success.
"Well, like I always said, and I don't mean this to sound egotistical," Benny answered, "I've got it made. I was lucky. Twenty or more years ago I stumbled on the idea of playing a cheap character and it's good enough to last a lifetime. It's good because it's a composite of every thing that's wrong with human beings. Everybody has an uncle who's stingy, or a coward or who thinks he's a great violinist. The identification factor is there, if you know what I mean.
"But I can see where TV is tough on the other comedians. They have to create new situations and characters all the time. I notice that whenever comedians refer to their troubles in TV they invariably mention me as the exception. All I have to worry about is to keep my show from stinking."
Our attempt to uncover something new about Benny, incidentally, wasn't a total loss. At the breakfast table, he announced he was on a health kick and he produced both a bottle of sucaryl and a tin of "non-fattening butter" (some form of margarine, actually) he had brought all the way from California. The products, however, weren't used under the most effective circumstances. The waiter had forgotten to bring milk for the berries, whereupon Benny shrugged, sprinkled the non-fattening sucaryl on the berries, devoured a slice of toast with non-fattening butter, and then with delicious abandon, poured very-fattening cream on the berries.