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berle 5/24/2014 10:54:28 AM
I first met Milton Berle and got to know him when he came to Rochester as the guest of Irving Mann, the owner of Mann’s Jewelers on Monroe Avenue in the suburbs.
Actually, he came to town to appear in person for a week at Barry Tuttle’s Town & Country Dinner Theater in East Rochester, but he agreed to also appear (once only) at Mann’s Jewelers and make a drawing for a wrist watch, or ring or some such bauble, if Irving Mann would pick up his expenses for the week.
Consequently, he also agreed to stay at the Sheraton Hotel on South Clinton Ave., and that is how Charlie Planert, my photographer, and I got to interview him; of course the fact that his shows, the MILTOM BERLE HOUR and the TEXACO STAR THEATER, appeared on NBC-TV (which was the network with which we were affiliated) had nothing to do with it!
We arranged to be in his suite at the Sheraton at 2 PM to shoot the interview. Berle showed up at 2:51 pm.
“No! No!” he said; “you got it all wrong! The spot lights should be over here! Not head on! More to my right, off center! Create a little shadow, a little — there! Right there! — That’s fine! That should do it! The floods should work at a cross-purpose! Give a little shadow to the left side of my face, of the room! — Not head on like ya had ‘em!”
“Jesus!” said Planert; “he’s a true professional! This guy knows what he’s talkin’ about! He’s a REAL producer! Not those bozos we usually get!”
I was delighted that Charlie was pleased with Milton Berle. Most stars and politicians we were sent to interview do not care where the lights are set; all they cared about is if the camera was in focus and if the ‘mike’ captured every syllable of their undying prose.
This guy Berle really cared that only he, as the speaker, be seen and heard; the interviewer was to be lost in the shadows and unseen by anyone except the interviewee. His sense of importance was monumental and sensational.
The interview, no question, was the best we ever did; it lasted more than an hour. We covered everything from his earliest days in vaudeville and burlesque to his many roles on radio and Broadway, to his movies, his early adventures in television as the star of the TEXACO STAR THEATER, to his current stardom was as a comic unparalled in Las Vegas or — anywhere.
Milton Berle told me, at another time, place and under different circumstances, after we had become fast and true friends, of his proudest moment in show biz: like the time he, Berle, risked his newfound TV stardom to challenge TEXACO when the sponsor tried to prevent black performers from appearing on his show.
“I remember clashing,” he said, “with the advertising agency and the sponsor over my signing the four Step Brothers for an appearance on the show. The only thing I could figure out was that there was an objection to black performers on the show, but I couldn’t ever find out who was objecting.
“We just don't like them, I was told, but who the hell was we?
“Because I was riding high in 1950, I sent out the word: if they don't go on, I don't go on. At ten minutes to eight — ten minutes before show-time — I got permission for the Step Brothers to appear. If I broke the color-line policy or not, I don't know, but later on I had NO trouble booking Bill Robinson or Lena Horne.”
What was his most regretted affront? Well, Berle’s mother Sadie was often in the audience for his broadcasts; she had long served as a plant to encourage laughter. Her unique, piercing, roof-shaking laugh would stand out, especially when Berle made an entrance in an outrageous costume.
After feigning surprise, he would ‘ad-lib’ a response, for example: “Lady, you've got all night to make a fool of yourself. I've only got an hour!”
Berle asked NBC (the network had at one time talked their star into signing a 30-year exclusive contract — which they broke before the 30 years was up) to switch from live broadcasts to film, which would have made possible reruns (and his residual income) to soar; he was angered when the network refused to pay the residuals. NBC did agree to make a kinescope of each show, however (big deal). “But they paid!” he proudly told me.
Mistakes — beyond this one? Milton Berle once was offered 25% ownership (for free) of a company manufacturing the ‘Teleprompter,’ by its inventor, Irving Berlin Kahn; all Berle had to do was simply agree to use the new gadget on his program. He turned the offer down. Big mistake! It would (and did) make millions!
Milton Berle died in 2002 at age 93. We lost not only Mr. Television and Mr. Texaco, who in the year after he signed with TEXACO on NBC sold more TVs than have been sold since — he also caused more restaurants and theaters to close up between 8 and 9 pm on Tuesdays, so people could stay home and see his show. . .
I lost a good friend and mentor, who did more for me and my career than anyone I could name since.
