Hollywood Greets Marvin Miller

Not many people have the versatility to narrate the Old Testament, the story of Nutralite, and the tale of Fox in Socks.

And lend his voice to a robot, hand out million-dollar cheques from John Beresford Tipton and emcee the Harmony DeMolay Chapter Sweetheart Pageant in St. Louis (he had been a member of the Chapter).

Those of you who appreciate animated cartoons likely heard his work for UPA, John Sutherland Productions, at DePatie-Freleng on the Pink Panther TV series and as Aquaman at Filmation.

Marvin Miller did all that, and an awful lot more.

Miller got his start on radio under his real name of Marvin E. Mueller, moving from his home town of St. Louis to Chicago and then to Los Angeles.

Elizabeth Werner’s radio column in the Hollywood Citizen-News of May 28 and 29, 1945 indicates he was doing well a year after arriving on the West Coast

One of the few people in radio's to be listed in Who's Who, Marvin Miller, takes such a keen interest in life that life has returned the compliment. Dark-haired, dark-eyed Mr. Miller, not only resembles the inimitable Orson Welles, but possesses a similar versatility which enables him to answer to the name of writer, actor, director, announcer, poet and walking encyclopedia.
Known on the West Coast principally for his job as the Coronet storyteller nightly on KECA, the human dynamo calls himself a "lazy" man, and worries for fear his manifold activities may lead him to squander his efforts.
"When I was in grade school," he said, "my dream was to be a newspaperman, so I worked as copy boy on the St. Louis Times during vacations. But I soon saw the average newsman, hunched over a desk under his green eye-shade, seldom got the chance to write the Great American Novel."
Wanted To Be Professor
“In high school," he continued, “I decided I wanted to be a professor, because I have a burning desire not only to learn, but to teach others what I have learned. Well, I won a scholarship to the University of Washington at St. Louis. . . . but the depression hit my benefactor . . . and my scholarship. I had to do something drastic," he smiled, "so I turned to radio."
Being the type that cringes at a mispronounced word, and having had two years of French and one of German behind him, Marvin threw down the gauntlet to radio in form of a letter criticizing the announcers on station KWK and asking for the chance to show them how it should be done. The challenge was accepted and the satisfaction of telling the intrepid lad, he'd never, never make an announcer, (Don't look now, but he's doing just that on "The Whistler," "Stan Over Hollywood," the Billie Burke Show and the Andrews Sisters show).
Not Easily Discouraged
Marvin Miller, however, is not easy to discourage, and before he left KWK he had sold them a dramatic skit of four characters, written and played by himself. Forty-two characters later Marvin had earned enough to enable him to finish schooling.
"It was my wife, Elizabeth, who really spurred me on to do things in radio," he admitted. "I decided that any girl who would sit up with me until the wee hour of the morning thinking up answers to the crazy quiz games I invented, was just the one for me." He showed us a photo of the very glamorous Elizabeth. "It was she who awakened me to classical music, which has become one of the joys of my life."
"The first symphony I attended with her was just a jumble of boring noise to me, but she seemed to understand it. I guess that was a challenge, for when she said she's rather have a Tschaikovsky symphony for Christmas than any other gift, I brought her one and really began to listen. Now my love and understanding has grown to encompass both the original symphonists and the ultra moderns." Grown in another way, too, we may said, for one entire wall of his living room is lined with record albums comprising a total of over 2000 classical recordings.
"We still play quiz games with each other," he went on. "Our favorite is to pick out eight lesser known words of famous composers and challenge the other to identify them."
"We're a little worried about four-and-a-half year old Tony, though," he smiled. "He jumps from singing "Pistol Packing Mama," to "Peter and the Wolf" without turning a hair. We're hoping he'll become more discriminating later." (to be continued)
"Hollywood is an odd place," Marvin Miller, well-known announcer - narrator - actor - writer, wasn't making an original discovery, but he has a new angle.
"In radio in Chicago," which had been his home before coming to California last fall, "an actor has a chance to make a name for himself, and by his merit, work himself out of the AFRA minimum scale of pay, while an announcer seldom does. Out here the situation is reversed. An announcer can build himself a fine reputation with corresponding hikes in salary, while the average actor, no matter how good he is, works on the various dramatic shows for scale. Having quite a few financial responsibilities," he grinned, "you'll see why I'm better known out here as an announcer and storyteller."
Marvin, who will be remembered for his role of "Mr. First Nighter" and the many dramatic parts he played on "Chicago Theater of the Air," isn't giving up his thespian career, however. The movies, which Marvin didn't give a thought to, because he admits he's no glamor boy, have discovered him and he's already working in his fourth picture.
Typical Hollywood Story
"I suppose the way I got my first part could be a typically Hollywood story," he mused. "My agent heard they were looking for someone to play Yamomoto in "Blood On The Sun," and because of my dark hair, my round face and over-hanging eyelids, he thought I should make a good Jap. I wanted to see the inside of a studio so we went out for a make-up tests. Westmore, who was in charge, seemed delighted with my face, and with a few touches, transformed me into a Jap.
"When the director saw me he said, ‘Mmmm, very good. Do you know your lines?’ I thought he was kidding, because I had exactly one line, so I replied, 'I think I do.' Would you mind saying them now?', he asked. I obliged, using my best Jap dialect, and he looked astonished. 'This man can act! He's too good for such a small part. Isn't there something else?'
"I stood there a little dazed while they went into a huddle," Marvin continued, "and pretty soon Westmore was called in to see if he could age me about 20 years for the part of the 52-year-old Tokyo police chief. He thought he could, if he could crop my hair, and I agreed, provided I'd be guaranteed one of the two parts."
His Luckiest Haircut
"That was the luckiest haircut I ever had," he laughed. "The second part had two swell scenes, and when they saw the rushes they liked my work so well another scene was written for Cagney and me at the end. There was only one catch. I already had been set for a swell part as the cream-puff husband in "Johnny Angel" and was trying like mad to get my hair to grow. We finally compromised by letting me keep my hat on in the last scene."
In between films, his nightly Storytelling on KECA at 6:55, and announcing, Marvin finds time to indulge in his favorite job of ferreting out and compiling facts. Take his scrapbooks, which are far different from the ordinary variety.
One huge volume is a collection of cigarets from all over the world, complete with detailed analysis of their tobacco, origin, and the reaction of the smoker. Another, called "Ghosts of 1000 Banquets" is filled with the labels of all the good things which have pleased his palate and menus from curious places he's dined. Another titled "Us" is the ever growing story of his life with Elizabeth and their young son, Tony. “Life is so full of things which are so lovely and so easily forgotten,” he said. “In these scrapbooks I try to remember some of its riches.”

Virginia Wright, Drama Editor of the Los Angeles Daily News, penned this profile in the June 18, 1945 edition.

When Marvin Miller's 5-year-old son began calling him "Mr. Walker," "Chicago's one man radio industry" decided it was time to take matters in hand.
Mr. Walker, the cab driver who took the boy to nursery school, was the only man in the youngster's life, his father being just a voice on the radio.
After a couple of slips in the unfamiliar presence of his father, Marvin Miller made up his mind that acting in and announcing 45 shows a week was a nice record, but hardly worth the personal sacrifice.
He and his wife read the chamber of commerce ads about "a life of relaxation in the Southern California sunshine," packed their bags and came west to take it easy.
The Millers have been here one year this month, and while Tony may be calling his father Daddy now, it probably won't be for long.
Marvin Miller brought only his own program, "The Coronet Storyteller," with him to Hollywood, but since his arrival he has become the m.c. on the Andrews Sisters program, the ad lib announcer on the Ray Noble show, announcer on the Billie Burke program, announcer and actor on ''The Whistler."
These are his radio commitments. To a man used to hopping from one station to another in Chicago, however, playing the male lead in "The Romance of Helen Trent," acting as master of ceremonies for Hildegarde, announcing "Ma Perkins," newscasting and acting in dozens of other soap operas, these five shows in Hollywood are like standing still to Marvin Miller.
Film debut
To fill in his time he has made four movies. His introduction to the screen will be made this week with the opening of "Blood on the Sun."
Although the radio actor prided himself on his wide variety of accents, Japanese wasn't his proudest work. It seemed to satisfy the Cagneys, however, and he makes his debut as head of the Japanese police.
The part is not large, and Miller seeing himself for the first time on the screen, thinks he overplayed somewhat. Director Frank Lloyd obviously didn't think so.
For his second screen assignment Miller drew a fatter assignment. At RKO he was handed the role of Clair Trevor's weakling husband in "Johnny Angel." His performance of that character part brought its own reward in an assignment to "Deadline at Dawn," Harold Clurman's first direction job in Hollywood. Miller plays a blind pianist, suspected of murder, in the thriller.
Between these two RKO performances Universal sought the radio actor for "Night in Paradise," the Walter Wanger Technicolor production with Merle Oberon and Turhan Bey. Miller plays one of three scribes in that one. Hired, he thought, because of his voice (a voice he has been perfecting for 15 years in radio) Miller was somewhat dashed to find that he was hired purely for his corporeal attributes. Bring somewhat on the plump side he was cast as the scribe who is constantly eating, but who never has a word to say.
No problems
Miller's long association with radio convinces him that radio and the screen have a much closer affiliation than the stage and the screen. With the single exception of learning dialog rather than reading a script he insists the transition from radio to pictures involves no problems at all for the actor. He thinks it must be much harder for a stage actor to control projection arid restrict his movements to white chalk marks than for the radio actor to memorize a few brief lines of dialog.
Miller, of course, is prejudiced toward radio which he maintains creates a kind of illusion which pictures can never hope to achieve. In this respect he cherishes a letter from a listener to "The Romance of Helen Trent," on which he played the love interest for three years.
The old lady wrote warning him of the machinations of the other man in the case, adding that she had already written warning Helen of the mess into which she was about to get herself.
As a final thought the writer asked why Miller didn't listen to the program when he was off the air, and discover what was going on behind his back.
The actor defies anyone to find a movie fan so spellbound by the medium.
Marvin Miller started his radio career while still a student at Washington university in Missouri. He got a job as a one man show, playing all parts, in a program that ran all summer.
After his sophomore year radio acting paid his way through his last two years of college, and with his A. B. degree he graduated also to news broadcasts and to announcing symphony programs. His musical knowledge kept pace with these broadcasts and made a collector of Miller.
His collection of 2000 symphonic records moved from Chicago to Los Angeles with the Millers and became one of their two most important household effects. The other is their stove. Miller fancies himself also as an amateur gourmet.

The amazing thing reading these stories from 1945 is Miller’s career was still ascending. We mentioned his role on-camera as Michael Anthony on The Millionaire (CBS, 1955-60) handing out a million-dollar cheque (the benefactor was played, off-screen, by Paul Frees) to a different person every week. In later life, Miller gave away a cheque for “One Million Dollars Worth of Good Luck”; some blog readers have told me they got such cheques.

Robby the Robot in Forbidden Planet (1956) may be his best-remembered movie role (voice only). The Nutralite film mentioned above was one of many industrials Miller narrated. He voiced “Fox in Socks” and other Dr. Seuss stories for RCA-Camden records and, of course, was the narrator in Seuss’ Oscar-winning cartoon for UPA, Gerald McBoing Boing. Among his industrial cartoons for John Sutherland was my favourite, Destination Earth, and Your Safety First, (both 1956), a pre-Jetsons look at the future where Miller’s husband/father voice pre-sages George O’Hanlon as George Jetson.

He also can be heard as the title characters in the Bell Labs live action/animation films Our Mr. Sun (1956) and Hemo the Magnificent (1957).

We mentioned his work for DePatie-Freleng and Filmation, but there’s another cartoon connection you can hear below.