Let's Give Jim Backus a Show

Today, you probably know him as Thurston Howell III or Quincy Magoo. But in 1947, before those two characters existed, Jim Backus’ main claim to fame was portraying snooty east coast millionaire Hubert Updyke III on The Alan Young Show on radio.

1947 was also the year Backus stepped out the shadows of being a much-in-demand supporting player and got his own show.

It had happened once before. From June to October 1942, Backus emceed a half-hour on CBS featuring Ambrose the talking horse (as well as singer Mary Small, the Eight Balls of Fire singing group, Jeff Alexander’s orchestra, announcer Frank Gallop and an actor called Art Carney).

This new Sunday night enterprise was on Mutual. That meant a slight problem. Mutual wasn’t a super-rich network with a big, cash-cow station it owned in New York City. It was a conglomeration of individual stations, many of them daytimers or small watters, that exchanged programmes, while shelling out money for news and technical people. Money was tight. A comedy show cost a lot of money. Backus managed to save cash by spinning records between his funny character routines. No orchestra needed. He and his wife wrote it. No writers needed. He did hire a few top stooges—Jerry Hausner and Dink Trout were on the debut show—and very versatile announcer Frank Graham.

The series began sustaining, but the papers reported a sponsor would come on board September 7 (the premiere was August 3). As far as I know, no transcriptions of this programme are on-line. Too bad. There was a funny bit on the opening show, the kind of phoney visual thing I did as a disc jockey decades ago. Backus introduced MGM star Esther Williams, KHJ soundman Art Surrence made the noise of a splash, then Backus thanked Williams for coming.

My favourite radio magazine, Radio Life, profiled the show in its October 5, 1947 edition. The photos came with the article.



Solo for “Hubert”
In Which Alan Young's Pal, "Updyke the Third," Premieres as Star of His Own "Jim Backus Show"
By Judy Maguire
JIM BACKUS, Mutual's head-long new comedian, streaked into the control booth to pick up a script. Absently he shook hands and returned to a muttering perusal of his lines. "Uh . . . very little rehearsing goes into this show, you'll notice," he added on his way out.
During the following few hours of broadcast preparation, Radio Life "noticed" no such thing. Touring the stage with great rubber-heeled strides, slamming himself into chairs, springing up and charging for the microphone, big Backus kept himself hard at it more rigorously than the most Legreeish producer. Reading out LOUD, he went over and over his gags, while background personnel gave its solicited opinions, but suppressed his mad flamboyance to build the program "from scratch" again.
And during most of the turmoil, engineer Bob Glenn and sound man Art Surrence laconically played cards, announcer Frankie Graham went out for a cup of coffee, and producer Stu Garner (a nice quiet chap wearing glasses and a blue sports shirt) sauntered through the uproar lighting a cigarette and murmuring “Yeah. This goes on all week.”
Friends say: “Jim's a pretty gay guy.” Modifying that, we'll add, “and a worrier.” For, although he can't help being funny, has a gift for creating phrases likely to start a jabber-epidemic and can entertain crowds any size, any time, Jim expresses a seething ambition to outdo even himself on his new show. That's a hard drive for anybody, but admittedly the Backus program, which started out quite happily as it was, has continued to build to even greater hysteria through these weeks, with a panic-stricken season stretching ahead.
So Versatile
It's comedy of a rare type. Jim's 1944-originated caricature of “Hubert Updyke III” on the Alan Young show has been called by many the funniest "yock" spot in radio. With equal talent he has bolstered the Don Ameche program as a leering-eyed busboy, the Bob Burns time as a shifty-eyed brother-in-law, and the Bill Goodwin piece as a wild-eyed boss. Now, on his own show, he's everybody put together, and he's moving with unblockable velocity. The Backus running commentary is cozy and at the same time devastating. He has an answer for almost anything. Witness, replies to routine interview questions:
Talent specialty? “Sleeping . . . with or without audience.” Father's occupation? “Bookie for Mexican jumping beans.” Education? “You too can study air conditioning. Hesitation waltz degree.” Favorite book? “The Bobbsey Twins.” You get the idea.
“How long does it take you and Henny to write your show?” someone else wanted to know. (Henny, short for Henrietta, is Jim's actress-sculptress-writer wife, and his co-writer on the program). “Well, lemmee see,” the star reflected, “we plan on two days. But then maybe you sit for nine hours and write nothing but ‘THE JIM BACKUS SHOW.’ Then, of course, there's the Research. You know what I mean — the Ten Thousand Best After-Dinner Jokes of the Year, . . . the Radio, (other comedians) . . . et cetera. You know what I mean.”
Tall, good-looking Henny, one gathers, goes along with all witticisms, script or otherwise, which her exuberant spouse cares to pull. Jim affectionately terms her "The Starving Man's Sylvia Fine." Their marriage, as Jim describes it, was a melodramatic affair:
"We were married on January 14 and 16, 1943, because on Monday the 18th I was to go into the Army. We were married initially in Camden, New Jersey, on the 14th, because my mother wanted a big wedding in Cleveland on the 16th, and we weren't sure we could make it, and in case we couldn't we wanted to be sure we were married before I went into the army on the 18th. Sooo, after all that marrying and dashing around, the Army rejected me on the 18th. Seems I have a vertical stomach (no gag, really) and I have to eat five or six times a day. I wouldn't have known if the Army hadn't told me. Henny got the X-rays as a wedding gift. She says she'll make a lampshade from them some day."
Chatter like this has rightly made Jim recipient of the nomer, “Best Newcomer of the 1946-47 Season”, but actually he has been in radio for over twelve years. He graduated in 1933 from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts and returned to Cleveland stock-theatre work. An attack of appendicitis forced even less-wearing activity, so he accepted radio bits (his first, with "Lum and Abner") to pad out a period of comparative retirement.
He began anouncing [sic] over WTAN, Cleveland, soon after; then moved on to Detroit and New York. From 1936 until his "Hubert Updyke" era, he worked steadily at metropolis radio, appeared with Keenan Wynn in Broadway's "Hitch Your Wagon", and did further theatrical work in "Too Many Heroes". He's been in Hollywood broadcasting since 1946.
Contrasts
At rehearsals, Jim looks distressingly untidy. He's a big man, with the build and features of a truck-driver. His shirt yawns open at the neck, his trousers are baggy and his collar droops with a yanked-around, tired disconsolateness. But by showtime, a good dinner and grooming have achieved remarkable changes, and the star steps forward looking both prepossessing and spiffy.
The half-hour ensuing is lively with yammer and melody. Jim reels off his lickety-split humor and a non-talkative stage mate (Walt Radke) throws on the platters. Announcer Graham acts as foil, and his short, bow-tied, curly-haired appearance gives impression of a jitterbug delightedly going along with gags as though they were hep steps to the Woodchopper's Ball. Also jumping around is sound man Art Surrence, who knocks over a deafening assortment of ladders, dishpans, glassware and gongs during the thirty minutes. Just to keep the party happy, a little man, blackfaced a la Larry Parks, may tear in to make like Al Jolson, should the record choice be “California.” Or anything else can happen.
So far, studio audiences are standing the exercise beautifully . . . all praises from the press have been technicolored . . . and everybody in radio is overjoyed to see Backus make a bang with his first single effort. Briefly, it looks as though this "Solo for Hubert" should be first-rate successful for heap many seasons to come!

“Many seasons to come”? Not this programme. Backus’ show lasted until the end of the following May. It was replaced by It’s a Living, a show that spotlighted unusual professions, on June 6, 1948. But this wasn’t the only show Backus lost. He had a Thursday night show on Mutual called The Jim Backus Talent Hunt. It also ended in May, replaced with a similar programme on June 3 hosted by John Reed King.

However, network radio had just about peaked. Television was growing. Backus went on to co-host a local show on KECA with Dick Wesson, married Joan Davis, and got stranded with Gilligan on a tropic desert isle. That last one blossomed in reruns for many seasons to come.