He Doesn’t Speak Arabic

Hans Conried was articulate, sophisticated and, like other actors who catch the fancy of the public, very employed at one time.

Conried once told host/historian Chuck Schaden he began his radio career doing Shakespeare on KECA in Los Angeles. And while the Hollywood Reporter of June 26, 1937 reveals he had been cast in the second show of the Shakespearean series (“Richard III”), the same paper of February 24, 1937 reveals his employ in a comedy-satire on the “Hollywood Theatre” programme on KHJ. And his career carried on from there (even though he has no occupation in the 1940 U.S. Census).

Somewhere in this blog (I’m pretty sure I posted it), Conried gave Mel Blanc credit for getting him into radio comedy after the war, as he played the head of Zebra Lodge when Blanc had his own show on CBS for a season.

Television didn’t stop Conried’s career when radio died (for him, in 1953, he told Schaden). He was making semi-regular appearances on several shows. He talks about two of them in the article below, published April 11, 1958. The “tattoo” show was on the Target anthology series and aired on November 24. The same night you could see him on Danny Thomas. And as you can see by the newspaper ad, he was in the cast of a music film that year.

Conried Fears TV Overexposure
By HAROLD STERN
"I don't know anything about Dody Goodman! I don't want to know anything about Dody Goodman! But everywhere I go, people buttonhole me, begging for inside information!"
Hans Conried looked at me despairingly. "All I want," he said, "is for Jack Paar's office to keep calling me to ask when I'll be available again. I'm not at all controversial. I'm everybody's friend."
Hans, who may currently be seen on almost every television show on all three networks, is now preparing for his next major T. V. appearance, that of the witch in Yasha Frank's April 27 N. B. C. production of "Hansel and Gretel". Whatever you may think of the merits of doing "Hansel and Gretel" on T. V. and whatever your opinion of Hans Connects talents, you’ll have to admit this is pretty exotic casting.
"It's been over a year since I've had a week off," Hans Conried admitted, "and though you say you see me everywhere now, that can rebound: People may say: 'Oh, Conried's all right, but who wants him again?' "
At the moment, that thought hasn't entered any one's mind. In recent weeks Hans has been on the Jack Paar Show, Omnibus, the Red Skelton show, the Danny Thomas Show as an old Shakespearean actor, Maverick, plus several films completed but not as yet released.
He'll continue to reappear on the Danny Thomas Show as Uncle Tonoose and will occasionally play other roles as well. His success on that series almost frightens him.
"Because of my appearance as Uncle Tonoose," he told me, "I have acquired a whole new following of Syrians and Armenians. Now, when I make public appearances," he added incredulously, "they expect me to make speeches in Arabic. I don't speak Arabic!"
Also coming up is a Telephone Hour Science Show in which he plays the heavy, the Mad Hatter, in "The Alphabet Conspiracy", an investigation into linguistics (he won’t have to speak Arabic here).
"I have an excellent film coming out soon," Hans exclaimed. "In it I play an international dope pusher, posing as a tattoo artist, who gets pinned against a wall by a fork lift. It's the kind of action I do well. Unfortunately, I don't remember the title or the series, but you "can't miss it."
Getting back to "Hansel and Gretel", I asked Hans if he had any thoughts on what seemed to be a trend of fairy tales to T. V.
"Well, why shouldn't there be?" he answered. "Here the industry is barely 10 years old and we've written ourselves out. There isn't enough talent in the world to feed this medium. And, if you're fond of horror stories, think of what television will be like in 30 years!"

Conried didn’t have many starring vehicles. Two were in feature films released in 1953—The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T and The Twonky, both too odd to generate huge box office response. He shot a Mr. Belvedere pilot film in 1959 but none of the TV networks picked it up. He may have been relieved. He told columnist Erskine Johnson “I'm not sure I want a show of my own. I'm the happiest when I'm doing something different every week.” Oddly, he found most of his work after the 1950s (Jay Ward Productions notwithstanding) on the stage where you’re doing the same thing every night. And he toured college campuses.

The story mentioned The Alphabet Conspiracy, a fantasy/educational film “Produced under the personal supervision of Jack L. Warner.” A beat-up copy that’s been on the internet for ages (surely, someone must have restored this) is posted below. Hans Conried gets a credit, but there’s no music credit. That’s because the music was supplied by the Capitol Hi-Q library. The opening theme is by Bill Loose, but I haven’t found it in my ‘M’ series collection. At 2:56, you’ll recognise cues by Spencer Moore if you know your Gumby or Huckleberry Hound music before Conried’s entrance.

Hans Conried, a Paart of the Show

Maybe Hans Conried should have got a better manager.

Conried worked continually during the days of network radio, one of those top supporting actors who could do several shows a day. Then he appeared regularly on television. But he sighed that he still had to keep working because he didn’t have money. Either Conried was spending way too much on Japanese antiques or he wasn’t getting paid enough.

By 1958, one of Conried’s semi-regular TV parking spots was on the Jack Paar version of the Tonight show. Paar and Conried were friends and occasionally took trips together. Here are a couple of feature stories on Conried’s appearances on the show. The first is from the New York Daily News of August 27, 1958. Conried reveals where he and Paar first met. The second is from Arthur Grace’s column in the Miami News of January 15, 1958. Conried credits Mel Blanc into getting him into radio comedy.

By the way, to explain something odd in the second story—when the Tonight show first started on NBC with Steve Allen, the show moved over from WNBT in New York. Because of local ad commitments, the show started at 11:15 p.m. with the first 15 minutes appearing only on WNBT. This carried over into the Paar years, which is referenced in the story (Johnny Carson finally ended the quasi-pre-show after refusing to appear on it; Ed McMahon and bandleader Skitch Henderson were responsible for the 11:15-11:30 period).

Jack Paar's Looks Set Hans Conried to Talking
By MATT MESSINA
Hans Conried never has trouble doing his conversational bits on Jack Paar's NBC-TV shows. “When Jack looks at me the first time, I start talking. When he looks the second time, I stop,” he explained.
Conried is in New York on one of his quickie trips from the Coast. He has been hopping around town the last two weeks doing everything from recording for NBC-Radio's "Monitor" to posing for liquor ads—“little bits of sweepings” is how he describes his varied jobs—and, of course, he’s guested with Paar (he was on last night).
The busy actor appeared on Paar's summer-subbing stint for Jack Benny on CBS-Radio some years ago.
“Since then, Paar has taken a kind interest in me. He has been unfailing in his loyalty, based on nothing but a sense of kindness, I’m sure,” he said.
No Scripts
Is all the repartee between him and Paar ad lib? “Completely,” he declared. That's one of the reasons he looks forward to guesting with Paar. “It's very easy—no scripts, no lines to memorize.”
Conried will be visiting Paar whenever he’s in town. “I have an open invitation to go on his show,” he related.
Featured in most of the top shows during radio's “golden age,” Conried has also been seen in many TV offerings, including “Omnibus,” “Maverick,” Danny Thomas' stanzas and “Pantomime Quiz.”
He appeared on the latter, in fact, when the program was first struggling as a West Coast TVer.
“We didn’t get any money in the beginning. But, in lieu of cash, the members of the panel were rewarded with cigaret lighters. Also, a local mill company used to send six bags of its flour products to the show, so that the Conried household had a pantry full of macaroni, pancake mix, etc. We lost our figures for a while until I started getting money for my appearances,” said the lean six-footer.
Watches His Old Movies
Conried confesses to a “morbid fascination” in watching on TV one of the more than 100 movies he made in Hollywood. “I see a young man of 20 or so, slim, with all his hair, who now works for nothing in competition with you on television,” he said with a bite in his voice. Then, putting a hand to his head, he added: “All the hair you see here is mine, but there used to be more.”
Although Conried, who began his career as a Shakespearean actor, admits “No one ever becomes an actor without wanting to become a star,” he insists he has no ambition to head a TV show of his own. “I'd want a challenge, but without the responsibility. And that’s hard to come by.”
He's had two-and-a-half weeks off from work in the last 16 months and there doesn't seem to be any letup in sight. For example, Conried will be seen in the Bell science TV series’ “Alphabet Conspiracy” and he’ll also guest on the Danny Thomas CBS-TV show this fall.
“I'd like to retire,” he sighed, “but who can afford it?”

Hans Conried Set a For Busy Future
If there is anything more grisly than driving from Tropical Park to the Carillon Hotel on Miami Beach, I'd just as soon not know about it. Or maybe you think it's fun driving 20 miles through hip-deep traffic after betting nine losers?
I made this interminable journey Monday night for one reason only; I had to find out what happens on the first 15 minutes of Jack Paar's delightful "Tonight" show.
Ever since I started watching "Tonight" on Channel 7, the first 15 minutes of the show have been preempted by a surly, rotund horse player who dabbles in sports announcing. This fellow happens to be entertaining enough to prevent me from lodging loud protest, but I still wondered what happened to "Tonight" between 11:15 and 11:30 p.m.
With Paar and his guests telecasting for one week from Miami Beach, I had my chance to find out. I can now report on what local viewers missed:
1. An amusing monologue by Paar.
2. A pretty French song by Genevieve.
3. An interview with an inventor of odd-ball shoes.
4. Jose Melis at the piano.
Funny Stuff
Paar's monologue was first rate. Referring to the still-incomplete hotel, he commented that he had a room overlooking a carpenter.
The weather report was very heartening, he noted. Temperatures of 78 and sun were expected tomorrow, with winds of 140 miles-per-hour.
The shoe salesman has invented "shoes" which will enable its users to walk on water. It is intended, I gathered, to replace the Queen Mary.
The shoes resemble two outrigger canoes. A hotel lifeguard tried to demonstrate them but was unable to move. It wasn't clear whether they were for motivation or for anchorage.
As for the song by Genevieve and Metis' piano playing, both were completely enjoyable.
The first "Tonight" telecast originated from the Tambourine Room of the hotel. It is a small area and things were pretty hectic Monday night. Facilities were not all that they might be.
At 12:31, for example, the show signed off when it should have signed on. For about 60 seconds, in view of millions, Paar tried to determine whether he was on or off the air.
These little entanglements would be catastrophic to most shows. On easy-going "Tonight" it's just part of the fun.
Jack's guests for the week include urbane Hans Conried, inexplicable Dody Goodman, the somewhat British Hermione Gingold and a confused Genevieve.

Mr. Conried is man of diverse talents. At the moment he is, as he describes it, “a professional wise guy.” He has not always been thus.
Hans Tops
“All actors go through phases,” he said. “I started with Shakespeare, working with Barrymore for three or four years. I realized there was no commercial future in this so I became an emotional radio actor, doing a lot of dialect parts.
“World War II came along and I became a heavy, one Nazi officer after another. I went into the Army and came out without a job.
“A friend of mine—Mel Blanc—had a comedy show and asked me if I wanted to work. I told him I'd never been really successful at comedy roles but he insisted. All at once I was ‘hot’ as a comedian.
“When radio went downhill we had to adjust. A radio actor had about as much future as a dirigible pilot.
“So I’ve drifted into comedy and I’m being kept busy. Next Monday I fly back to the west coast to film a ‘Danny Thomas Show.’ I play his Armenian uncle. It’s character comedy, not the role of a stooge.”
A dozen years ago, however, Hans was “stooging and knocking around town” when Paar hired him for his show.
“He gave me a job when it counted and things have gone pretty well since. I’ve worked with him often. I don’t know why he’s so loyal to me. I guess it's because we like each other; he likes to have his friends around him.
“Most of the people on this show would go through fire for Jack.”
Is Hans unhappy with his role of “professional wise guy?” Not at all.
“It isn’t bad; working on Jack’s show is the easiest job I’ve ever had and the most fun. There's no preparation at all. My ambition? To keep working.”
Conried recently completed two movies, with “The Big Beat” to be released in April. He will portray a witch in the "Hansel and Gretel" TV spectacular in April. He always keeps turning up on panel shows such as “Pantomime Quiz” and “What's It For.” Not even Hans could save the latter series from an untimely death at the age of 13 weeks.
If Conried can't save a show, it’s beyond human salvation.
It is this writer’s opinion that Mr. Conried would be perfect as narrator of children’s stories on TV. A title? How about “Hans Across The Fable.”

Hans Conried, Acrid Humourist

Hans Conried loved to talk. Not only in outrageous European accents and mock Shakespearean and melodramatic tones on camera (or behind a mike). And not only on a talk show (he and Jack Paar were friends). Hans seems to have done all kinds of newspaper interviews over the years as he was involved in all kinds of projects, both on the air and on stage.

It’s been a little while since we posted about the droll and erudite Hans on the blog, so allow me to pass on this piece from the Buffalo Courier-Express of March 5, 1961. He was promoting two satires, one with Ernie Kovacs and Edie Adams that was about to appear on television on The U.S. Steel Hour and, way down at the bottom of the story, a syndicated romp being produced by Jay Ward. Unfortunately, the publicity photo with Conried and Pat Carroll that accompanied the story is a little too murky so we’ve substituted a different one from another paper.

Hans Conried to Poke Fun at Network Sleuths
By JACK ALLEN
MANY ROLES—Shakespearean actor—Nazi villain comedian—quiz panel expert. You name it, Hans Conried has been it.
You've heard Hans, with a supercilious look, sprinkle his acrid humor over many a quiz show panelist or contestant. You've heard his witty comments on the Jack Paar how many times, and you probably remember him for a steady series of movie roles as monocled German meanie.

SATIRE— Those who have sampled his quick wit on Ernie Kovacs' "Take a Good Look" panel (it was carried last night for the first time on Ch. 7), know what a fast man with a quip he is. And on Wednesday night at 10, Ch. 4, you'll see Hans on a real free-wheeling satire spree in "Private Eye Private Eye."
What does he do on this anew? Conried told us by phone the other day: "This is show in which we really take private investigators of fiction and TV for a sleigh ride. As usual, I play second banana to Ernie."
Hans has made a career out of being a second banana, but a mighty talented one who often steals the show.
WITH PAAR—His appearances with Jack Paar, he feels, have been a big boost.
"For 25 years I was an actor," said Hans. "Now, because of the Paar show, I'm suddenly a personality."
And a well-rounded personality he is. Conried began his career in 1937 when, at the age of 20, he played Laertes in NBC Radio's production of "Hamlet" with the late John Barrymore.
He played a wide variety of classical roles for a full season on the air, "and this was about the only Shakespeare I've done."
DIALECTICIAN—Conried's such a clever dialectician no one knows whether he's Austrian, English or what have you. Actually, he hails from Baltimore and New York, but his father was Austrian. A tribute to his versatility is that he once did 18 parts on a 30-minute "March of Time" radio show.
He was the "voice" of Captain Hook in Walt Disney's "Peter Pan," and has made a series of recorded readings of famous children's stories.
MOVIE ROLES—He made the first of his 90 motion pictures in 1938, and filled endless roles as a Nazi villain.
"I think my best role was in "The 3,000 Fingers of Dr. T.," said Conried, "It was the best fantasy ever made. It was a smash hit in Tokyo, Paris and points east, and in the U.S. set a record for losing most money as a box office flop."
So how did he become a comedian and a character actor of the quiz shows? "I was in the Army for three years. When I got out, I was offered comedy, which I hadn't tried and didn't want. Suddenly — to quote my agent — I was a sensation."
RADIO AND TV — Conried had radio assignments on "Life With Luigi" and "My Friend Irma," the latter for seven years. On the stage, he won raves from the critics for his role of the professor in Cole Porter's "Can-Can."
On TV, he was on the regular-panel of "Pantomime Quiz" for five years, and has been featured with Bob Hope, George Gobel and Rod Skelton.
THE FUTURE — And what of the future? "I'll do a "Steel Hour" with Faye Emerson called "The Odd Ball" on April 5," said Hans. "And I've made countless pilot films for possible TV series.
"Of course, only about one out of 75 of these pilots click. I hope fervently the hand of God will strike on one of mine, such as 'Fractured Flickers."
In this show, old silent movies are re-edited and narrated by Conried and company, with a new twist in dialogue. Can you imagine how he could cut up "The Great Train Robbery" or "Birth of a Nation?"

I really love Hans Conried’s work, even though he always struck me as an intelligent chap who really wanted the chance to do the classic dramatic plays on stage instead of ducking from Danny Thomas’ spit-takes as Uncle Tonoose. On radio, he always seemed to be playing some preposterous foreign eccentric. On television, you could drop the adjectives. And he captured the essence of John Barrymore in pulling out the stops as Snidely Whiplash on Dudley Do-Right, a triumph of wit and casting over animation (which really could describe all of the Jay Ward studio’s best cartoons).

Private Eye Private Eye came and went. So did Fractured Flickers, remembered only by second-generation cult fans today. But Hans Conried carried on because of his love of show business. There was always another opening, another show.

Hans, the Personality

It’s an amazing concept, if you think about it. A late night network talk show with people who can actually talk. Not audience noise. Not cameras flying around. Not vapid, non-spontaneous chats to push coming movie or TV projects. But raconteurs, literate people with a command of the language and something interesting, relevant or amusing to say.

Such people were found on television at one time, and one place to find them was the Jack Paar Show (aka “Tonight”). And one was Hans Conried.

I suppose Conried is known today as the voice of Snidely Whiplash on the Dudley Do-Right cartoons. In the ‘40s, he made a good living with other over-the-top characterisations on radio sitcoms and variety shows. When radio started dying in the ‘50s, he put his dialect humour to use as Uncle Tonoose on “Make Room For Daddy” and his quickness to the test on the game show “Pantomime Quiz.”

Yet Conried made a bit of a name for himself with somewhat regular appearances on the Paar show. Paar assembled kind of a stock company of folks who would come on and tell stories, including Alexander King, Oscar Levant and dotty Dody Goodman. And as this Associated Press story indicates, Conried had mixed feelings about it, though he surely couldn’t have disliked the exposure. It ran August 18, 1959.

Hans Conried Is Paar Personality
By CHARLES MERCER
NEW YORK (AP)—Hans Conried was brooding the other day over the new phenomenon of “personality” as introduced to modern life by American television.
After years of steady employment as a perfectly respectable actor everything from Shakesperean roles to mad scientists, Conried went on the Jack Paar Show and quite soon found himself a “personality.”
“At first I felt naked,” he recalled. “There I was, Conried playing Conried, with no role to hide behind. I had to talk, and that wasn’t too hard, of course. I’ve been talking since I was a year old. Then, I guess. I began creating the personality of Hans Conried, a role to hide behind.”
But who, asked a fellow, really is Conried? What is he?
Conried fixed his dark eyes on the fellow somberly, and offered an item, a clue: The true Conried lives happily with his wife and two sons in a large California house that contains 7,000 books, most of which he’s read.
But he refused to divulge anything further about the secret life of Hans Conried except that he wants another bookcase in his house and there doesn’t seem to be room for it.
Conried has become a “personality” thanks to his appearances on the Paar show and other TV panel programs. But it hasn’t hurt his professional career as an actor. In fact, his career has been enhanced, with more offers for better roles.
Next Sunday, for example, he will co-star with William Bendix in “The Ransom of Red Chief,” an which also NBC-TV features special Mickey Rooney’s 9-year-old son, Teddy.
Conried admits that he enjoys playing the role of Conried, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, on TV panel programs. But he won’t confide how he became a “wit”—or even that he is one. He is, he insists, just an actor.

Hans, Hitler and Ham

Many actors have been masters of accents but none gave more enthusiastic performances than Hans Conried.

Hans was no ham thespian, though. He may have been over the top when spouting silliness on radio or TV in one of many dialects, or as the declamatory Snidely Whiplash in cartoons, but he could easily tone it down in dramatic performances on shows like “Suspense” and “Lux Radio Theatre.” Conried performed Shakespeare on stage as well. But accomplished actor as he was, he ended up building his reputation with comedy. A lot of situation comedy in the glory days of radio makes me roll my eyes, but Hans Conried can always make me laugh emoting with some foreign tongue saying something ridiculous.

Hans was profiled in the entertainment column in the National Enterprise Association in 1960. It doesn’t mention his work at Disney (“Peter Pan”). Forgotten, and perhaps rightfully, is his starring role in “The Twonky,” which would have been a fine social satire if it had fired on all cylinders. This story appeared in papers starting January 3, 1960.

All Entertainment Media Is Home For Hans Conried
By ERSKINE JOHNSON
NEA Staff Correspondent
HOLLYWOOD—(NEA)—When two generations of fans think of Hans Conried, the wild-haired, owlish-eyed fellow who looks like two profiles pasted together, chances are they will laugh over some unexpected grimaces or a wayout dialect—or both.
Radio fans remember Hans as Schultz on “Life With Luigi” and as Professor Kropotkin in “My Friend Irma.”
Movie fans recall him in “Bus Stop” and “Never Too Young.” Broadway stage fans remember him as the wacky Bulgarian sculptor in “Can Can” and the college professor in “Tall Story.”
TV fans know him as Uncle Tonoose on the Danny Thomas show, for his slick acting in all kinds of roles on other shows, and as himself, contributing to the nation's humor and insomnia, as a frequent Jack Paar guest.
But an old friend from his early (1936) days as a Hollywood radio actor remembers him for a quite different reason.
Mel Blanc, the actor with the trick voice (Bugs Bunny, Jack Benny's parrot) remembers him as an intense, dedicated Shakespearean actor. “Hans was so serious about acting,” says Mel, “that he cracked me up. I thought he was the funniest man I had ever met.”
Mel said the words when Hans, as a radio actor, was playing so many Nazi “heavies,” between Shakespearean chores, that Hans still laughs, “Hitler kept me alive until Uncle Sam put me in uniform and started feeding me.”
Well, when friend Mel Blanc found himself starred in a radio series after the war, he called in just-out-of-the-service Hans and have him the humorous character of a fellow who operated a Mr. Fix-it shop. That was the beginning of Hans Conried's fortune as a dialectian, and as stooge for every famous comedian on radio, as he rushed to and from as many as 20 different radio shows in one week.
Today Hans is still rushing — between Hollywood and New York for stage and TV appearances and telefilms — to recording studios for platter gems like “Peter Meets the Wolf in Dixieland”—to the St. Louis Municipal Opera stage in the summer for such musical dramas as “Lady In the Dark,” “Rosalinda,” and “Song of Norway.”
Home today for Hans Conried, a Baltimore, Md., lad, is a big Spanish stucco mansion on a hilltop overlooking Lake Hollywood where there is a Mrs. Conried, four little Conrieds and a rare collection of Oriental art objects. But he is home, with that rare flair for off-and on-beat comedy characters, in all entertainment mediums.
There's always talk of Hans Conried having a TV show of his own.
Fox has an option on his services in the series, “Mr. Belvedere,” when and if it is sold.
“But,” says Hans, “I'm not sure I want a show of my own. I'm the happiest when I'm doing something different every week.”
There's a strange oddity about Hans. He was never given a typical Hollywood publicity build-up and he hasn't ever sought the spotlight to become what Hollywood likes to call a “personality.”
But since his many TV panel-show appearances in New York and his stardom there in two Broadway shows, the usual Hollywood-New York pattern of fame has been reversed for him.
“Here in Hollywood,” he says, “I'm known as an actor. In New York—and I must say I blush about it—I'm considered to be a personality. But really, in 25 years of acting I've never worried much about whether I was known as an actor or as a personality. I just want to stay alive.”
One movie, “The 5,000 Fingers of Doctor T,” gave Hans his only starring film role. But today he can still laugh about the film. "It was the outstanding money-loser of all time.
“One critic called it the worst waste of film in history. But at the same time the film made the ‘current & choice’ list in a national magazine. It was a strange movie—a fantasy—but no one ever saw it.”
Of course, Hans Conried is his real name.
“I would have changed it to Hans Conried?” he deadpans.

This story came out a year and a bit before Hans was hired by Jay Ward to channel John Barrymore (who could register high on the ham meter) as Snidely Whiplash. Ward later put him on camera as the host of “Fractured Flickers,” a short-lived syndicated show from 1963 featuring satiric voice tracks played over top of old silent films and bogus interviews with guests. Here’s one with the lovely Barbara Eden. The laughter and applause is more intrusive than helpful, but the premise is clever.