He'd Be Considered Tame Today

There are two words that will derail any discussion amongst fans of the original What’s My Line?

Hal Block.

If What’s My Line? were an immaculate Park Avenue penthouse, Hal Block would be an unmade bed. He was burly man with numerous nervous tics who people either loved or hated. He could either be clever or tacky. After a while, “tacky” didn’t cut it any more on a show that aimed for sophistication and good taste, and Block was cut loose.

By profession, Block was a radio comedy writer who realised the people who wrote the words for Bob Hope didn’t get paid as much as the man who spoke them, and decided to do something about it. The time was right because network television had arrived in earnest and needed new talent on the air.

What’s My Line? debuted in 1950 and producer Mark Goodson, a former radio announcer and host, realised after the first show changes had to be made quickly. Arlene Francis was put on the panel on the second week and Block joined her a week later (Dorothy Kilgallen was on the premiere, Bennett Cerf came later). Block was still on the show when radio/TV writer Ben Gross penned this column in the New York Daily News, August 2, 1952.

The Comedian Who "Hates" His Audiences . . . That's Hal Block, the gag-spouting panel member of "What's My Line?" (CBS-TV, Sundays, 10:30 P. M.; NBC-radio, Wednesdays, 8 P. M.). But don't get the wrong idea. For Hal's "hate" is really akin to love and it's merely an expression of his will to succeed.
"Other comedians may find it easy to win their listeners, but I have to do it the hard way," he will tell you. "Show business is an extremely cruel one. People are ready to destroy a performer the minute he pulls his first boner.
Don't Be Afraid . . . "So when I come on, I must reason that I may get the worst of it. I never feel that listeners are with me from the start. I've got to win 'em over with one or two quick yoks. Once any performer shows that he's afraid, he's licked. It doesn't matter who he is—and remember, I've written material for some of the most popular comedians in the world."
But if a performer strides on in a combative mood, doesn't that antagonize his audience?
"No," Hal says. "There's only the finest line separating love and hate. And, because of this, when an actor once proves himself, people loosen up and take him to their hearts. In other words, every new performance presents the problem of conquering the listeners. Others may have their own methods; mine is to come out fighting."
A Writer You can see by this that Hal is not only an articulate fellow but also one who has studied the psychology of his art. Maybe that's because, in addition to being a performer, he is a writer. In fact, a few years ago, Block was unknown as a comedian.
For years he had a reputation as one of the best gag and situation comedy concocters in the business. From his facile typewriter came the jokes and the skits which helped to build the reputations of funsters as Jack Benny, Fred Allen. Eddie Cantor. Red Skelton, Olsen and Johnson, Ken Murray, Burns and Allen, Edgar Bergen and—yes—even Milton Berle.
The listeners and viewers of "What's My Line?" may look on Hal as primarily a laugh-winner, a professional funny man, but he regards himself as a mere panel member.
Do you intend to become a full-fledged comedian?" he was asked the other day.
“I might,” he said, “if I could find a good writer!"
Studied Law . . . Block, who was says he was born 37 years ago, had good preparation for the quick give-and-take technique of his profession. For in 1933, he began to study law at the University of Chicago and eventually became captain of its track team. His bout with Blackstone and his foray into athletics developed powers of argument and of perseverance.
Then, in 1935, when Block started his show business career, he came to another conclusion. Deciding to become a gag writer for America’s top clowns, he said to himself: “In order to get along in this business, a fellow also has got to have guile, irresponsibility and a hell of a lot of stick-to-it-iveness.”
Baker's Brushoff. . . . . Both Hal and his partner at the time, Phil Cole, a school chum, showed plenty of these qualities when they called backstage at the Chicago Theatre where Phil Baker, the comedian, was headlining. "We're writers," they announced.
Baker, who had heard this story before, said: "Sure, sure; come to see me when I'm in New York. Next time you're there, look me up.”
They knew it was a brushoff, but accepted the challenge—by coming to New York! Here the boys were shooed away successively and emphatically by the comedian's personal manager, his agent and his radio program's ad agency representatives.
Crashed Home. . . But did that down the fighting gag men from Illinois? Not so you could notice it; for they hired themselves out to Mamaroneck, where Baker dwelt, and crashed the comedian's home. There they proceeded to display their wares and Baker finally gave them $30 for a joke he wasn't even certain he would use. But use it he did on his radio show and it convulsed the listeners.
That started them and by 1937, Hal Block was creating the singing commercials for Baker's gasoline sponsor. But an ad agency vice president was ready to tear down every idea submitted. And here's where Hal guile came into play, for he made the comedy star his ally and together they triumphed over the v. p. That is why even today, Block loves to quote Fred Allen's famous description of an advertising agency vice president:
"He's a Dartmouth graduate with a crew haircut who comes to the office every morning at nine. When he walks in he finds a molehill on his desk, and he has until five to make a mountain of it!”
Says He Won't Marry. . . . Hal is one of those superstitious fellows. For instance, if he’s forgotten something, he won't turn back for it—even if it’s his wallet. One evening, bound for one of his shows at the studio, be entered a cab and discovered he was without money. The driver took him to be a chiseler and he almost missed his performance. Luckily, a passerby recognized Hal and paid his 95 cents.
It's not superstition, however, that causes Hal to remain a bachelor. He simply refuses to get married, why?
"Because most women have no sense of humor," he says, "and besides, show me one of them who wouldn't insist on editing my gags!”
Note to the Gals—Remember, it’s Mr. Block who said that—not this writer.

By January 1953, Block was “on hiatus” and after a brief return, shown the door. Syndicated columnists Tom O’Malley and Bob Cunniff summed up the situation. This column is from June 15, 1954.

A Jinx Trails Dimples Block
NEW YORK—Bumped into Hal Block the other day. Remember Dimples Hal? He's the guy who used to get most of the laughs on "What's My Line" until he fell into disfavor with his employers and got the ax. It's been two years since he was bounced from the quizzer’s panel and people are still asking why.
Actually, Hal's heave-ho was due singly to a clash of personalities between himself and Producers Goodson and Todman, Dorothy Kilgallan, New York columnists and, to a lesser degree, John Daly.
Co-Producer Todman told these reporters: “Hal had a peculiar way of thinking verbally that he was responsible for the success of the show. It has even been printed that he originated 'What's My Line?’” and was its producer."
Block to the defense: "Am I crazy enough to claim I produced 'What's My Line?’ Everybody and his sister knows who Goodson and Todman are. They reel their names off at the end of every program—big as life."
According to Block, the controversy over his "taking credit for the show" flared up over an ad he took in Variety.
"They mis-read the ad," says Block, "so that it looked to them like the big type read 'Hal Block's What's My Line.’ It didn’t. It actually read ‘What's Hal Block's Line?’ Any way they got sore and wanted me to print a retraction, even though in the very same ad I paid them a tribute. Now what are you gonna do?"
SAYS BLOCK, "One night the panel was told by Todman before showtime to be very careful with our mystery guest for that evening. Well, as it turns out the guest was Margaret Truman and I displeased the boys again. You know what my question was? I asked, 'Are you adorable?’ Margaret loved it, but after the show I was reprimanded for saying it."
There were other tussles between the producers and Block—once over who should receive a TV award for the program. Says Hal: "The committee wanted me to accept. Says G & T: “Hal did the asking, not the committee. CBS chose us for the presentation."
It was no secret in the trade that Dorothy Kilgallen avoided Dimples Block—plague like. She hit his tenderest spot once in her syndicated column. It was an item about Hal—uncomplimentary—in which she referred to him as "a certain TV panelist." Block admitted he was crushed at the double slam, especially from a fellow panelist.
About the apparent cold war between himself and Dorothy, he says, "I wish I knew the reason myself."
Other columnists have freely taken snipes at Block. One wrote that Hal was working in a Detroit burlesque house billed as "Dimples Block, Star of What's My Line" after he had been dropped from the show. In reality he was playing an exclusive Michigan country club—and without such billing. (“I could have sued,” insists Hal.)
JOHN DALY, the show's emcee, had a few peeves against Hal, mostly minor. Urbane John died a little each time Block quipped his oft-repeated occupational guess—to wit, "I think he removes that the warts from pickles." Daly thought this classically unfunny.
Stormy petrel Hal left New York and went to Chicago (his home town) last October to begin anew. He latched on to his own local TV show there. But the Block jinx held sway. He was fired by the station a few weeks ago for kidding an M. D. guest on his informal program. Seems Hal pulled out a hot water bottle for a joke and waved it before the doctor. Complaints rolled in and he was out of work again. Bad taste, said the station managers.
Block is currently dreaming up another TV format on which to drape his ad lib talents. His friends still feel he should shuck the performer's garb and go back to being a gag poet, an occupation that has always paid him a fancy figure. Meanwhile Hal is taking some consolation that "What's My Line's" rating has dropped since he left. Something like a million less viewers than before.
It's doubtful Block is the sole reason for the slump, but a guy can be wistful, can’t he?

But Block may not have been responsible for his “ad-libs” which irked the panel. A case can be made to put the responsibility on the Goodson-Todman staff. Here are O’Malley and Cunniff again, from Jan. 20, 1955.

The Big Panel Shows, They Legit?
NEW YORK—Should the public be let in on television secrets? Is it wise for viewers to be tipped off on the backstage devices used by panelists? Are rehearsed ad-libs kosher?
These questions are getting renewed airing since Mark Goodson, co-producer of the panel show empire known as Goodson-Todman Productions (I've Got A Secret, What's My Line, Name's The Same), finally conceded in a recent magazine article that his panelists have been supplied with pre-fab questions, all loaded for yocks.
Ever since Hal Block used to flex his dimples and pop up with apparently innocent "double entendres" week after week on What's My Line, there has been a general skepticism about the legitimacy of panel shows. The television trade has known the facts all along.
For some reason, however, the public at large has doubted the legitimacy of the answers, rather than the questions. When we worked on a television publication a few years ago, the mail poured in almost daily, criticizing the intuitive powers of Dorothy Kilgallen or Bennett Cerf for nailing down the mystery lines with such distressing regularity.
Actually, it was the man who seldom unbuttoned the guest's occupations, Hal Block. Yet he was never accused, we doubt that Miss Kilgallen—especially Miss Kilgallen—was even approached in connection with a "rigging." The game the thing with anchor girl Dorothy.
As producers, Goodson and Todman are concerned principally with maintaining a spirited parlor game. The show can be a howling success, even if the contestants flub on every subject. On the other hand, a group of monotonously accurate panelists could sink the show into oblivion.
Frankly, we believe Goodson made a mistake in allowing that his charges are plied with ready-made quarries. Columnists and critics have been raising the question of panel show legitimacy for years, but for some reason they have failed to sway a healthy slice of Americana.
All Goodson has done is make a pronouncement that has dashed any lingering hopes that the critics might be a pack of over-suspicious meanies. When the head man admits it, there's no more to be said.
Actor Hal Block was fired from What's My Line many months ago, we approached him and asked him point blank if all was up-and-up with the show. He was a bitter man then. He felt he had been done wrong. He had lost his most valued possession his fame as a performer.
Nobody recognized Hal Block the gag writer. They did recognize Hal Block the panelist, however and he liked this role immensely. Yet even in his embittered frame of mind, Block wouldn't admit a rigging. Of course he was protecting himself, but he also maintained he felt duty-bound to protect the property from which he was bounced.
Now a few million suspicions have been confirmed that maybe dimpled Hal, as well as Steve Allen, Robert Q. Lewis, Bill Cullen, et al. weren't so funny after all. Too bad, Mark.
Now even the spur-of-the-moment laugh lines will look suspicious. Say it ain't so, boys, say it ain’t so.

Despite the revelation, the gag-line feeding carried on. The late Paul Lynde still gets praise for his catty quips on Hollywood Squares. They were all written for him.

As for Block, he drifted into obscurity. Perhaps the biggest headline he made after leaving the game show was in 1962 when sideswiped six cars in Chicago, telling police he took sleeping pills instead of reducing pills and got into his car. The Associated Press story called him a “former television personality.” He died in 1981.

I have mixed feelings about Block. Fred Allen was a natural humourist. Steve Allen would have something pop into his mind and blurt it out. Too much of the time, Block seemed forced, like he was trying too hard to be funny. There were other occasions where I liked what he came up with. But What’s My Line? was probably better without him. After he left, viewers watched the show for another 14 more seasons.