Not Grouchy About Groucho

Alexander M. Jones had the right idea.

He put a personal ad in the New Brunswick, N.J. Daily Home News reading: “Alexander M. Jones earnestly and respectfully requests that his friends, business associates, relatives and all others refrain from telephoning his home, or otherwise disrupting its serenity between 9 and 9:30 o’clock of a Wednesday evening. These 30 minutes are regularly observed as the Groucho Marx half-hour.”

You Bet Your Life still makes me laugh. Groucho is funny to begin with, but You Bet Your Life producer John Guedel had the brilliant idea of keeping the TV cameras running after a half-hour and then editing out the weakest parts for a stronger show. It’s even funny on radio. In fact, even in the dying times of network radio in 1950s, Groucho was re-run over the summer because audiences wanted it. He remained on the nightime schedule on NBC radio into mid-1960.

Groucho’s return for the 1954-55 season caught the eye of Los Angeles Mirror columnist Hal Humphrey. He gave it a rave in his column of September 24, 1954.

THERE’S ONLY ONE GROUCHO
For sheer pleasure and entertainment Groucho Marx still gives the video viewers the biggest bargain.
A half-hour invested with this jester and master of the quick quip gets you drama, comedy and the keenest insight into human nature since O. Henry.
Last week Groucho began his eighth year as the "You Bet Your Life" maestro (his fifth for both radio and TV), and on this first show proved that he is better than ever.
This Marx brother has the happy faculty for making intelligent comedy out of situations where the average emcee or quizmaster is content to shout some inanity at the contestant like, “You don’t say so!"
Groucho’s talent for balancing his remarks precariously between pure kidding and the barbed crack is a camouflage which fools everyone and no one at the same time. Even George Fenneman, Groucho’s trusty announcer, frequently looks askance at the master in a failed attempt to discern the real meaning of certain "Marxisms."
He can pull a contestant’s leg, so to speak, and the audience thinks they are in on the gag, until they see the contestant laugh, too. When this happens, the audience no longer is laughing at the contestant, but with him. And the contestant is laughing because Groucho Marx is a funny man saying funny things.
A Knowing Look Gets a Laugh
A WAC corporal teamed up with Gen. Omar Bradley was asked by Groucho why she wasn’t wearing any medals.
"Haven’t you seen any action?" he asked her.
When the gal replied she had not, Groucho asked if she had a Good Conduct medal.
“No, I haven’t," she replied.
"Why, you rascal, you," countered Groucho, "I think you’ve seen more action than you care to admit.”
By the time Groucho got to Gen. Bradley with the same question and the latter admitted he had no Good Conduct medal either, the quiz maestro didn’t have to do a thing but cast that knowing look at the audience to envelop it in gales of laughter.
A few of his jealous colleagues and those people who take great pride in being "in on the know” will tell you that anyone could do the show. If he had all of the help Groucho has.
They point to the fact that many contestants are hand-picked, that the show is filmed and taped (for radio) for 50 minutes and edited down to just the cream, and that there are writers hovering in the background.
Groucho even is accused of rehearsing some of his contestants, a canard with no basis in fact. He has a capsule dossier on his subjects—their hobbies, background, etc.—as do all quiz and panel emcees, but has met none of them prior to the show.
Viewers Not Aware of Film
The fact that the show is filmed and edited simply attest the shrewdness of Groucho and his producers. It not only is a better show being on film, but explodes the "immediacy" myth of so-called live" TV.
Many viewers of the TV show are not aware that Groucho is on film. Most people attending a studio performance are amazed to see the eight 35mm. film cameras grinding away as he works over the contestants.
But to a legion of fans it doesn't matter what the mechanical procedure is, or how Groucho does it. All they know, or care to know, is that he comes up each week with a brand of entertainment which tops most of the stuff on TV or radio, and apparently defies imitation because there is only one Groucho Marx.

Groucho’s jokes weren’t confined to radio, television or his colleagues at the Hillcrest Golf and Country Club. Erskine Johnson of the Newspaper Enterprise Association related this in his column of Jan. 5, 1954.

A TV rating company’s Tuesday night telephone call to the home of Groucho Marx, who told them he was listening to Groucho Marx. “But you’re not on a Tuesday,” a pal said when Groucho told him about it.
“I know,” said Groucho, “I just want to see if I can get a Tuesday night rating, too.”

One of the great things about the internet is, with a simple connection, one can watch or listen to Groucho whenever they want. Today, he could have a Tuesday night rating. And one every day or night of the week. Alexander M. Jones’ home would have trouble not being disturbed.