Faking It On a Game Show

Contestants told they had to be excited when the camera was on. Hosts who didn’t care if the contestant won or lost.

Oh, how game shows aren’t what they appear on camera.

TV Key columnist Harvey Pack interviewed the great Bill Cullen at least four times between 1960 and 1970. Let’s bring you a pair of columns with Cullen telling some tales. First up is a piece from February 23, 1963 where he talks about the fakery—no, we don’t mean telling people what that trip to Rome costs—and how networks could be cheap when they wanted to be.

$557 Raise for Talent
By HARVEY PACK
Right after the war, around 1946, CBS radio carried a non-sponsored afternoon quiz show called "Winner Take All." A network staff announcer used to introduce the sustaining program by saying, "Sound your buzzer . . . (BUZZER), sound your bell (BELL) . . . it's time to play 'Winner Take All.' "
The program was produced by a couple of youngsters named Mark Goodson and Bill Todman, and the $43 a week announcer was a Pittsburgh boy named Bill Cullen. Cullen has been giving away prizes for Goodson-Todman ever since.
"The job was no big deal for me," explained the affable Cullen over lunch. "It was part of my staff job and, in addition to doing that every day, I handled band remotes and the other chores networks gave their announcers.
"Funny thing, at the end of the program I had to say the program was produced by Mark Goodson and Bill Todman, and the next day I was under orders to reverse it to Bill Todman and Mark Goodson. They were names in those days, not an institutional trademark."
Then the regular emcee of "Winner Take All" was fired and CBS brought in a parade of semi-names to run the little quiz. After a few weeks, Goodson and Todman offered young Bill a shot and he did so well that he was permanently assigned to the program.
"This, too, was no bargain," said Bill with a smile. "Now I was doing 'Winner Take All' five days a week, plus all my other tasks for the same $43 a week. The show still wasn't sponsored, but I asked someone at CBS if they could get me an extra $10 or so for the added chores. The word came back . . . no more money but we'll try and eliminate your other assignments."
Bill worked the show under this arrangement for a while and then CBS suddenly sold the program to local sponsors on a participating basis, and the $43 a week announcer was told that his next weekly paycheck would contain an increase for "talent fee."
"I opened up the envelope to see how much more I was making and there it was . . . 'pay to the order of Bill Cullen, $600.' " Wow! Bill shook his head in disbelief as he recalled that check. "I stared at it for about an hour, and then I rushed out of the building, went to a bank and had it converted into green, negotiable coupons. Know what I did then? I walked over to Fifth Avenue, entered the fanciest leather goods store in New York, bought a wallet for $80, stuffed the other $520 into the wallet, and I left that store feeling every bit a millionaire."
Thanks to one of the most winning TV personalities in the business, that wallet has never really been empty. His Goodson-Todman association continued to be a perpetual good luck charm for all parties. He currently handles "The Price Is Right" for them and is a permanent panelist on one of their original properties, "I've Got a Secret."
"For a while all I had was 'I've Got a Secret' so I accepted a coast show called 'Place the Face,' even though it required me to fly to California once a week and return. "But I didn't regret the commuting," he explained, "because I did the beach bit on the coast. Also, and this is the most important, my announcer introduced me to his sister-in-law and I married her."
After getting his share of sunshine and latching on to a lovely wife, Bill took a job on local New York radio, and the commuting was over. "I had to be at the studio at 6 a.m. so the first few years of marriage I had my bride up at 5 to make me breakfast. I stayed with it because it was quite lucrative, but once 'The Price is Right' clicked I knew I'd have to find an out and slow myself down," said Bill.
Contestants Coached
Cullen figured "The Price Is Right" would last about 13 weeks and then be dropped because, as he put it, "People will get tired of seeing the same prizes." He was wrong. The "gimmick" of bonus extras plus the other tricks that Goodson-Todman shows always seem to invent has made the game, sometimes called "What Price Greed," a TV standard.
Many viewers of the show have often wondered why a contestant who lives in the middle of the Mojave desert screams, "I'd just love that, Bill" when a prize they cannot possibly use, like a boat, appears on the turntable.
Bill explained this animated enthusiasm. "We spend a lot of money for those prizes, and it would look terrible if the contestants made a crack about not having any possible use for 'that junk.' Actually, we tell them to act delighted . . . ooh and aah . . . and jump with joy when they land a bonus. The contestants are really nice people, and very good sports."
Bill, his wife and that $80 wallet are now in Florida enjoying a three week vacation just like winners on "The Price Is Right."

Now, to a column from March 1, 1965. You think game show hosts are phoney? It’s because they are, or at least some of them, according to Mr. Cullen. I must admit I’m puzzled, but maybe I’m just different. I’ve given away stuff on the air (including cash into the four figures), and I don’t want to see someone be wrong and lose. If you’ll pardon the poor grammar, I can’t picture not hoping someone will guess all six answers and win the $10,000 Pyramid. And Cullen tells a story that must be about Jack Barry.

They Call Bill Cullen A Good Luck Charm
By HARVEY PACK
NEW YORK — I always seem to run into Bill Cullen just as he's about to embark on his annual winter vacation and since the affable emcee of "The Price Is Right" and panelist on “I’ve Got a Secret” always has a few comments to make on the lucrative part of the TV business where he is fast becoming the grand old man, I broke bread with him before he and his lovely wile headed south.
"People call me a good luck charm because my two current jobs, 'Secret' and 'Price' have been on the air a combined total of over twenty years," began Bill. “It comes to about 12½ for ‘Secret,’ and the balance for ‘Price.’ I like the reputation as a guy whose very presence insures success, but I've been on many a 13-week wonder and I'd mention their names but even 'I've Got a Secret.'
Cullen has been employed almost continuously by Goodson-Todman since, as a staff announcer at CBS radio, he took over the quiz-master role on their first creation, "Winner Take All." I asked him what one characteristic an announcer needs if he hopes to jump out of the confines of a “voice-over” job and join the well-paid jovial joes who happily say hello to contestants on TV's many game shows.
“Brashness is the key,” said Bill after a minute's thought. "I know a lot of the boys may appear to be humble and shy, but you can bet your bottom dollar it's an act. I've met a lot of capable announcers who've wanted to try their hand at emceeing a game show, but when we've offered them the opportunity they've backed away. And in every case it's been because they lacked the necessary brashness to face a studio audience and a group of contestants."
Part of The Act
On the old quiz shows, according to Bill, the quizmaster had to be a bit of an actor. Hal March, Cullen said, best exemplified this breed because March could sweat it out with the poor contestant who was searching for an answer and make the viewer think he was one hundred per cent on the side of the contestant. “I never did a big money quiz show,” added Bill, “and I was offered plenty of them. The reason was quite simple. I knew I wouldn't care whether a guy won or lost and I wasn’t ready to put on an act. Hal March probably did care, but it was the way he did it that made him a top quizmaster.”
Cullen recalled the classic story of a quiz emcee who was rooting against the contestant. It seems this emcee was a partner in the program and he had already received his post-scandal cancellation when he went on the air with his final show, which included a $50,000 dollar question for some carry-over contestant. Now, Cullen explained, as a partner in the show that 50 grand, if won, would come right out of our hero’s pocket which would have been great for the ratings if the show had been renewed but now represented a potential total loss.
The emcee asked the question and waited breathlessly, for the answer which was given almost immediately by the confident contestant. There was a pause while the audience waited to hear if the expert had scored and was about to be awarded the 50 big ones. Well, concluded Cullen, the answer had been incorrect and the emcee, unable to contain himself, laughed right in the poor’s man’s face while telling him he was wrong. “It was beautiful,” summarized Bill, “Those of us who understood the financial background of the situation viewed it like a Charles Addams cartoon.”
The brash Mr. Cullen tried his hand at comedy writing before hitting the mother lode with Goodson-Todman and he frankly admits he was anything but funny. “Goody kept me on and that pay-check was there every week. It was stealing and if Goody Ace were to make an issue about it today I'd return every cent to him.”