Friday, October 16, 2015

King Kong: The Lost 1933 Radio Serial

“And the prophet said: And lo, the beast looked upon the face of beauty. And it stayed its hand from killing. And from that day, it was as one dead.”
                                    -- Old Arabian Proverb

Bruce Cabot, Fay Wray and Robert Armstrong 
Months before the motion-picture King Kong was released theatrically, a novelization of the screenplay appeared in print in 1932, adapted by Delos W. Lovelace, a friend of movie producer Merian C. Cooper and a minor writer who mainly scripted biographies and children's books. Originally published by Grosset & Dunlap, the story was also serialized in two parts in 1932 by Walter Ripperger for Mystery magazine. Lovelace’s prose is by no means great, but the novel features descriptions of scenes not present in the motion-picture, including the legendary spider pit sequence.

Publication of the novelization was not the only means the studio used to promote the picture. Executives at RKO Pictures began making plans to promote their big screen epic, King Kong, supposedly a loose inspiration of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World (1912). Advertising for the motion-picture was both elaborate and costly. The studio, without utilizing the practice of an advertising agency, purchased airtime in the space of fifteen-minutes, twice a week, Saturday and Monday. Incorrectly reported on a number of websites as a 30-minute weekly feature, the radio serial was considered a Holy Grail among connoisseurs of vintage radio broadcasts and fans of retro horror movies.

Fay Wray in a publicity photo
King Kong masquerades as a beauty and the beast fairy tale, a story involving a Hollywood producer who sought the eighth wonder of the world, only to partake in an adventure that takes him to an unchartered island and rampage through the streets of New York. The female protagonist named Ann Darrow, played by actress Fay Wray, found herself kidnapped by the giant gorilla named Kong, worshipped by the tribal natives, on an island occupied by prehistoric beasts. Sailors race across unexplored territory in an attempt to rescue the damsel, only to face gruesome death from all shapes and sizes. She was eventually rescued and in the process, Kong was knocked unconscious and brought back to New York City, where the beast was put on exhibition. Kong ultimately broke free of his bonds and ran amok through an asphalt jungle, destroying cars and climbing tall buildings. The monster met his demise in a historic cinematic sequence on top of the Empire State Building. But don’t kid yourself – theater goers in 1933 knew it was not a real ape. They observed the same stop-motion effects you see today.

As Joe Bigelow of Variety reported in his March 6, 1933 column, “It takes a couple of reels for King Kong to be believed, and until then it doesn’t grip. But after the audience becomes used to the machine-like movements and other mechanical flaws in the gigantic animals on view, and become accustomed to the phony atmosphere, they may commence to feel the power. As the story background is constantly implausible, the mechanical end must fight its own battle for audience confidence. Once won, it reaches a high pitch of excitement and builds up to a thrill finish in which the ape almost wrecks little ol’ New York.”

The March 3, 1933, issue of the New York Times remarked, “While not believing it, audiences will wonder how it’s done. If they wonder they’ll talk, and that talk plus the curiosity the advertising should incite ought to draw business all over. King Kong mystifies as well as it horrifies, and may open up a new medium for scaring babies via the screen.”

Merian C. Cooper
King Kong was the brainchild of Merian C. Cooper. To go into detail regarding the movie's production would take multiple blog entries and we don't have time for that. You can find a nice write-up about the production of the movie here:

RKO reportedly spent more than half a million to produce the movie so it comes as no surprise that the studio that was among the first to utilize the medium of radio as a means of publicizing their motion-pictures, decided to expand promotion of King Kong beyond commercial copy.

RKO predicted box office revenue surpassing most of their productions that calendar year and went to a lot of trouble to build publicity. They were correct as a number of inter-office memos suggest the studio would have filed bankrupt had King Kong not grossed as well as it did. The financial success of the movie, in part, is due to the major publicity – including using radio as an advertising medium. Publicizing on radio, however, was an unusual decision at the time – a medium shunned by movie studios in fear theater goers would abandon the silver screen for economical and convenient means of entertainment. Executives at RKO knew radio could help publicize their screen ventures and booked eight weeks on NBC to dramatize a fifteen-chapter radio serial adapted from the screenplay.

Like the movie put before the cameras, the struggle for survival on the primitive, fog-enshrouded, tropical Skull Island between the energetic filmmakers (led by Robert Armstrong), the hero (Bruce Cabot), and the forces of nature are dramatized. Unrequited love and the repression of violent sexual desires, a combat against the voodoo natives, and a depiction of economic oppression, was not evident upon reviewing the surviving radio scripts from the 1933 radio serial.

1933 King Kong radio script
Until recently, the radio serial, produced from March 18 to April 22, was considered “lost.” Among the Holy Grails of vintage radio broadcasts, no recordings were known to exist, produced from air checks. An LP record, produced many years later, has often been distributed over the Internet and mistakenly labeled as a chapter from the 1933 radio serial. To date, recordings of the 1933 broadcasts still do not exist. Few would not even know of its existence if it was not for a brief mention in the RKO press book for King Kong, and a number of newspaper listings. A collector residing in Virginia, however, who buys and sells radio scripts on eBay, apparently had in his possession originals of all 15 radio scripts – safely protected in a cardboard box –this discovery a historic find indeed.

From careful examination of the scripts, it is learned that New York stage actors played the roles. None of the Hollywood elite reprised their screen performances. The serial was originally slated for 16 broadcasts, twice a week, and while newspaper listings confirm this, further digging proved that a major news item (coverage of a major earthquake in Los Angeles) pre-empted one of the broadcasts. This forced the script-writer to combine two chapters into one.

The adaptation was handled by William S. Rainey, who was hired to adapt the screenplay and/or novelization into 16 chapters, each running 15 minutes in length. For the most part, Rainey remained faithful to the material. Rainey also doubled as the narrator for the opening and closing of every radio broadcast, and on occasion supplied voices of natives, sailors and spectators when action called for it. It was not uncommon during the thirties for radio actors, writers, directors and sound men to double for roles before the days of unions and guilds. Alois Havrilla, the director of the serial, was an accomplished radio announcer in his own right and it appears he also doubled for roles of natives, sailors and spectators. It seems more logical that Havrilla would have served as announcer while Rainey handled the directing – the names on the extant radio scripts were penciled in and the positions could have been mislabeled. Havrilla would venture to Hollywood shortly after completion of this radio play, signing a contract with Universal Studios for a series of film shorts. While on the West Coast, he would further his career as a radio announcer for Jack Benny’s The Chevrolet Program, Joe Cook’s Colgate House Party and Paul Whiteman’s Musical Varieties.

Merian C. Cooper and Fay Wray
There was no apparent opening theme for the chapter plays. The opening signature for each broadcast was the distant mutter of drums surmounted by a native chant in which there is constant repetition of the phrase, “Ani Saba Kong.” If anything, a few bars of “Oriental Love Dance” by Irénée Bergé would have been used, according to a single music cue sheet that survives from the NBC files. Other music featured on the program included “Queen of the Night” (from In Babylon) by Justin Elie, “In a Pagoda” by John W. Bratton, “Chinese Dance” (from Two Oriental Dances) by Bainbridge Crist, and parts one and eleven of “Sea Shantiss” arranged by Sir Richard Runcian Terry. Musical instruments included oboe, drums and accordion.

The opening chapter features Carl Denham, in the role of a Hollywood motion-picture director, related the events as it happened to the radio audience. Because the radio cast had not yet seen the motion-picture, they were instructed by the director not to view the film until after the conclusion of the radio serial, to ensure the personas depicted on celluloid would not influence the manner of which they portrayed the radio counterpart.

Stage and radio actor George Gaul, playing the lead of Carl Denham (referred to as Worthington Denham in the premiere episode and Carl throughout the remainder of the serial), played the part ala Richard Halliburton, a then-famous adventurer and lecturer. Halliburton’s first book, The Royal Road to Romance (1925), was a best seller. New Worlds to Conquer (1929) recounted his famous swim of the Panama Canal, retracing the track of Cortez’ conquest of Mexico, and a trip to Devil’s Island. Halliburton appeared on radio numerous times for the lecture circuit, recounting bizzare foreign encounters, often drawn from his real-life escapades. It is believed that Gaul played the role in the same manner as the eccentric Halliburton portrayed over the ether waves, complete with high-pitched voice and occasional discomfort on the details. Halliburton’s love of the world’s natural wonders, monuments bestowed to mankind from Mother Earth, may have partially been the inspiration for the character created for the motion-picture.

As the first chapter opens, Denham briefly introduces his background and foreshadows the aftermath of the horrific events. “My friends, not long ago it was my fate to be involved in a series of happenings which form the basis of the strange story I have to tell you. The events which happened to me and those others who were with me, never happened before to mortal men – or at least, no man ever survived to tell of them. The days of deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up body and soul. My hair has turned white, though I am not old. My limbs are weakened. My nerves are unstrung. I tremble at the least exertion. I am frightened at a shadow. I hold by stanchly with Shakespeare’s dictum that “there are more wonders in Heaven and Earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” My friend who knew me when I was a successful picture director tell me that the whole expression of my countenance has changed. My mirror corroborates them. Before this amazing thing happened, I had knocked around the world a good bit. I had made pictures in the jungles of the Amazon, in South Africa, in India, among the Australian Bushmen in Labrador and in Russia.”

The character of Denham provides first person narrative throughout most of the serial, bridged between extended action scenes which are almost verbatim from the film script. 

Among the notable differences between the film script and the radio drama was the inclusion of the famous Spider Pit sequence, which was apparently cut from the film before the motion-picture was released nationally. (More about this next week on the blog.)

Other noticeable differences between the finished movie and the radio script was the way in which the old chief and witch doctor carried out their threats to offer Ann as a golden-haired bride for Kong. On the island, ceremonial fires were lit and Ann was covered with garlands. Her arms tied between two pillars, she witnessed first hand the roaring defiance of Kong. The scene in which the gates opened and Kong entered the village to take Ann away, followed by the natives’ closing of the gate, was not exactly the same manner depicted in the movie. Kong is apparently allowed to enter and exit with his sacrifice. The fact that the actress was not in the radio script may have had a hand in the formation of this scene.

Fay Wray cheesecake photo
The initial length of King Kong was originally 14 reels but, to cut down on budget, the studio asked Cooper to trim the movie to 11 reels. Scenes that supposedly ended up on the cutting room floor was Kong’s confrontation with a Triceratops, Jack and Ann’s perilous escape down the river, and Kong crashing down Skull Mountain chasing after Jack and Ann. The fight between Kong and the Triceratops was featured in chapter nine, as evident in the script reprint.

In chapter eleven, Denham describes his trek back to the vessel for more guns and bombs, and his observations of the quietness of the native village. When Kong approaches in chapter thirteen, chasing Driscoll and Ann, the great ape smashes the gate and tears through the village. As Denham narrated, “Kong filled the aperture, his body in a crowd, his eyes peering above the little men at his feet to the dark huts. I gazed unbelievingly at the bulk of the invader and raced back for the gas bombs. Kong lumbered forward to begin a slow patient search of the still, dark village. In the cluster of huts the rays of the early dawn had not yet penetrated. The last native had fled to the deceptive shelter of his home or out into the encircling brush. Kong ripped off the top of one hut after another, stooping down to peer into each. At first, he only rumbles an impatient disappointment but as he met repeated failure his tune sharpened to fury. By a wide, swinging run behind concealing huts and trees, I finally interposed myself across Kong’s line of advance. Gripping a prized bomb in either hand, I kept my distance watchfully.”

In two radio episodes, the refuge is referred to as Skull Mountain Island. (Same for the Lovelace novel.) In the movie, it is referred to as Skull Mountain. It was mentioned in one chapter that Skull Mountain was located somewhere off the coast of Sumatra, Indonesia. RKO referred to it as Skull Island in publicity materials. (In Song of Kong, the 1933 motion-picture sequel, it is referred to as Kong’s Island.)

In the final episode, the scene where Kong reached in and takes Ann from her hotel room is not prominently referenced. Instead, Driscoll informs Denham in the streets that Kong kidnapped his prey and is climbing the buildings of the city. It is Driscoll who tells a police officer that army planes from Roosevelt Field “might find a way to finish Kong off.” Denham and Driscoll describe the confrontation to each other, between Kong and the planes as they witness the events from the street. (This was, no doubt, a cheat for sound effects men to avoid re-creating the sound of Curtiss Helldiver aircraft.) The death of Kong was described by Denham to the radio audience. It appears, based on analyzing the radio scripts, that the final two chapters were edited together as one. This might be why Kong’s escapades through the city and the daring rescue of Ann was provided mostly through narration and little action and sound effects.

Alois Havrilla
Beginning with the second episode, the following announcement was delivered over the radio by announcer George Hicks, over WEAF in New York only: “Our listeners in the vicinity of New York City may be glad to know that King Kong is of such tremendous interest that it will be presented at the Radio City Music Hall beginning Thursday, March 2nd, and at the new RKO-Roxy Theatre beginning Friday, March 3rd, for one week.” A similar announcement was repeated through chapter six. In other areas of the country, New Jersey, Connecticut and upstate New York, a station identification was instead provided. The cliffhanger serial was not heard in other areas of the country, including Washington, D.C., Chicago or Los Angeles.


EPISODE GUIDE
Broadcast Saturday and Monday, 6:30 to 6:45 p.m.
Originated from WEAF in New York City.

Episode #1, Broadcast Saturday, February 25, 1933
CAST: Pierce Benton (Bjorusen), Arthur Ebony (the watchman), Parker Fennelly, (Capt. Englehorn), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll), and Charles Webster (Weston).
PLOT: We are introduced to Worthington Denham, the famous picture director, whose adventure pictures, made in the far corners of the earth, have been seen by millions of people. Denham describes, through dramatic flashback, hearing by chance of a mysterious island in an uncharted portion of the Southern ocean, decided to try to find it and make a picture there. His previous pictures had been less successful than they should have been because they lacked romance. He decided to talk to a Norwegian skipper, Bjorusen, who in Singapore two years ago gave him the details of the mysterious island. Denham bought a boat, hired a skipper, Englehorn and his mate, Driscoll, who had been with him on two earlier voyages. Denham explains the reason why he needs to hire a young girl for the trip and sets out to find one.

Episode #2, Broadcast Monday, February 27, 1933
CAST: Peggy Allenby (Ann Darrow), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Joseph Granby (the fruit vendor), and William S. Rainey (the cabman and the narrator).
PLOT: The day before they were to set sail, the New York theatrical agents failed to find a girl willing to go on such a hazardous and mysterious voyage. Denham set out into the obscuring twilight of a snowy winter’s evening to hunt for her along the highways and byways of New York City. Saving a young starving beauty from arrest as a result of stealing an apple from a fruit peddler, Denham meets Ann Darrow and treats her to a full meal in a tiled lunchroom. She was undernourished but he promised to make good on full meals in the future… provided she tag along on his expedition.

Deleted Scene
DENHAM: How come you’re in this fix?
ANN: Bad luck, I guess. There are lost of girls just like me.
DENHAM: Not such a lot who’ve got your looks.
ANN: Oh, I can get by in good clothes, perhaps. But when a girl gets too shabby…

Episode #3, Broadcast Saturday, March 4, 1933
CAST: Peg Allenby (Ann Darrow), Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), Tim Daniel Frawley (Lumpy), George Gaul (Carl Denham), William S. Rainey (narrator), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: Boarding The Wanderer, Ann meets the first mate, Driscoll, who confesses his dislike towards having a woman on board, believing them to be “cock-eyed pests.” When the vessel gets west of Sumatra, Denham provides the map leading to Skull Island. Pictured on the map is a wall higher than a dozen men, and impregnable, stretching across the base of the peninsula serving as a mighty barrier against who or what might attempt to come down the precipice from the back country. Built so long ago that the descendants of the builders slipped back into savagery. Denham assures the men that the map is legit and that “every legend has a basis of truth.”

Episode #4, Broadcast Monday, March 6, 1933
CAST: Peg Allenby (Ann Darrow), Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), Tim Daniel Frawley (Lumpy), George Gaul (Carl Denham), William S. Rainey (narrator), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: With a strange mountain suggesting a skull, the crew is apprehensive in their journey. Ann, however, enjoys being on the ocean and longs to remain on the waters with each passing day. Denham asks Ann to pick something from the costume boxes that pleased her fancy, for camera tests. She had selected a curious primitive costume blend of soft, rustling grasses and softer, iridescent silken strips. Where it failed to cover her, the flesh of her arms and legs flashed in ivory contrast to the brown of the grasses and the brightness of the cloth. Denham refers to it as his “Beauty and the Beast” costume. After a screen test involving Ann screaming for her life, Driscoll expresses displeasure in the treatment she may be subjected to, confesses his love and the two romantically kiss. On the morning of May the seventh, they woke to find themselves in the midst of a thick yellow-white blanket of fog. They found the island as described on the map.

The Saturday, March 11, 1933 broadcast was not dramatized because of news coverage of Los Angeles earthquake coverage.

Episode #5, Broadcast Monday, March 13, 1933
CAST: Peg Allenby (Ann Darrow), Paul Durant (the Native Chief), Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), Tim Daniel Frawley (Lumpy), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Alois Havrilla (native voices), William S. Rainey (narrator), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: Arriving on the island, the adventurers find the natives performing some type of ceremony. Along for the trek are Driscoll, Ann, Denham, Engelhorn and about 40 members of the crew. The men observed the great wall first hand, observing a gate hinged to massive stone pillars supporting the story of the structure’s antiquity. There was also an overhanging precipice made chiefly of huge logs. The natives are chanting “Kong! Kong!” while a native girl, young and smoothly attractive, wearing an apparel consisting of woven strands of flowers, is offered as a sacrifice. The natives, discovering they have visitors, temporarily halt the proceedings. Engelhorn, able to speak the native language, discovers the girl is the bride and gift of Kong. Blondes are scarce in this part of the world and Ann, is eyed by the natives as a gift for Kong.

Episode #6, Broadcast Saturday, March 18, 1933
CAST: Peg Allenby (Ann Darrow), Paul Durant (the Chief), Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), Tim Daniel Frawley (Lumpy), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Alois Havrilla (native voices), William Naughton (the guard), William S. Rainey (narrator), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: The Chief of the natives offers six women for Ann, but the offer is declined and the men of The Wanderer retreat back to the vessel. Hours later, the men gather in the skipper’s cabin. Their first reaction had been one of exhilaration over the lucky outcome of their encounter. How, however, they had time to ponder the danger they had run – and the ominous mystery of the native chiefs’ parting words. Meanwhile, Lumpy shows the men a native bracelet found on deck… and Ann is missing. There was no doubt that the natives had been on the ship under the cover of darkness and spirited Ann away to a possible fate. A rescue party is formed.

Episode #7, Broadcast Monday, March 20, 1933
CAST: Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Taylor Graves (Jimmy and voice of sailor), Alois Havrilla (voices of sailors) and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: The old chief and witch doctor carried out their threats to offer Ann as a golden-haired bride for Kong. The skipper ordered the boats manned. Every man was armed with a rifle and one of the boats contains a crate of gas bombs. On the island, ceremonial fires were lit and Ann was covered with garlands. Her arms tied between two pillars, she witnesses first hand the roaring defiance of King Kong. The beast takes Ann away and the natives close the gate. With Driscoll in the lead the men plunged into the murky jungle. The great size of the horrible monster awed all of them. Trekking through the jungle, the men risk arm and limb to track Kong. They encounter an immense beast with a thick, scaly hide, a huge spiked tail and a small reptilian head. They came face to face with surviving creatures of prehistoric life. Using the gas bombs, the men knock the creature out. But valuable time was being lost while Kong had Ann in his possession.

Episode #8, Broadcast Saturday, March 25, 1933
CAST: George Gaul (Carl Denham), Taylor Graves (Jimmy and voice of sailor), Alois Havrilla (voices of sailors), Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll and voice of sailor).
PLOT: Using logs the men venture downstream in speed of pursuit. The men continue to encounter monstrous apparitions, dinosaurs on water-soaked logs, and one scaly-back smashed the raft into pieces… sending the men into the water and guns to the bottom of the water. Denham felt sick wondering how many of the crew were to go before they could catch up with Kong. The men reach land and continue their trek, a tricerotop gores to death one of the rescue party, then ultimately witness Kong battling a Tricerotops. The battle, as described by Denham during the audible roars from the fight, reveal Kong the defiant. The chances of rescuing Ann from the fiendish clutches of Kong seem fainter and fainter.

Episode #9, Broadcast Monday, March 27, 1933
CAST: George Gaul (Carl Denham), Taylor Graves (Jimmy and voice of sailor), ALois Havrilla (voice of sailors), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: Of what use was the guile and wit against the huge fantastic beasts of the nightmare island? Their frail knives were useless and they lost their rifles and gas bombs when the raft was destroyed. Driscoll and Denham did their best to pull the men out of the mood of surrender. Driscoll agrees to cross the ravine and find Ann while the rest of the men return to the ship to fetch more rifles and bombs. The men ultimately plunge to their deaths in a pit of giant insects and spiders. Driscoll takes shelter in a cave in the ravine as Kong reaches in to apprehend his next prey. Driscoll, backing up, drew his knife and stabbed Kong’s fingers and arm, enraging the ape. Driscoll crouched in his shallow wall stabbing hopelessly at every chance…

Episode #10, Broadcast Saturday, April 1, 1933
CAST: George Gaul (Carl Denham), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: A giant snake made for Ann, who screamed for her life. Kong whirled about and Kong was again defiant. Driscoll, during the battle, snuck out of the cave and continued to following Kong to his lair. Ann’s one chance for continued safety depended upon his own ability to keep track of her and Kong’s temper. He trailed the ape, not provoking him to a furious outburst. Denham, who was witness to all that happened, agreed to go back to the boat and get bombs. Together the men cannot catch Kong. They need bombs to do that. Denham departs.

Episode #11, Broadcast Monday, April 3, 1933
CAST: Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), Tim Daniel Frawley (Lumpy), George Gaul (Carl Denham), and Alois Havrilla (voice of sailor).
PLOT: Meeting Capt. Englehorn in the village with the other men, Denham reveals that everyone was wiped out, except Driscoll and possibly Ann. He asks for volunteers to go back after them. Sleep was out of the question, tired as he was. The sailors completed preparations for a new search, armed with rifles and more bombs. The image of the sailors who met their fate was fresh on his mind. He feared the possibility of a similar fate for these men, and Driscoll was now sick at heart and with heavy misgivings, he could not free his mind of the disturbing thought that in a sense he was to blame for the whole horrible business. He cursed the day he ever heard of the island.

Episode #12, Broadcast Saturday, April 8, 1933
CAST: Peggy Allenby (Ann Darrow), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Alois Havrilla (voice of sailor), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: As described by Jack Driscoll, the first mate gave chase as the ape lumbered through the jungle. He was following no beaten trail, leaving his geat tracks plainly upon bruised leaves and broken branches and sodden jungle floor. Ann was, apparently, unconscious by this time. She lay in the crook of one of the beast’s enormous arms. Her hair foamed down her back in a bright cascade made more bright by its contrast with Kong’s black snarl of fur. Along the slope of the island’s highest peak, Kong came to a full stop in a great, natural amphitheatre which was encircled by a curving cliff. When a great bird-like monster, a prehistoric pterodactyl soared, Ann woke and screamed and Kong came to her rescue. During the fight, Driscoll made a move to rescue Ann. Together, the two jump off the ledge into the pool below. The two follow the stream to safety. They finally reach the gates of the great wall. But they are not yet beyond the gate and the crashing which they heard in the forest behind them was Kong in pursuit.

Trivia: Narration by Jack Driscoll, filling in on the events on the island, after Denham introduces him to the audience.

Episode #13, Broadcast Monday, April 10, 1933
CAST: Peggy Allenby (Ann Darrow), Parker Fennelly (Capt. Englehorn), George Gaul (Carl Denham), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll).
PLOT: Denham and his men reached the gate about the same time as Ann and Driscoll. Racing back to the Plain of the Altar, everyone was delirious with joy. Before the men agree to leave the island, Denham points out that he was here to make a moving picture and Kong was worth all the movies in the world. They have bombs and if they capture him alive, they will have proof of their story for all the world to see. Against the wishes of Ann and Driscoll, Denham wants to use the beauty as bait. Before the great doors can close completely, Kong’s lumbering bulk rolls against the wall, shouting a wail of terror. The gap at the gate had become scarcely more than a wide crack when Kong’s charge struck home. The surprised natives scream and flee in terror. The gate fell inward with a terrific crash. Sailors scramble shrewdly to safety on either side. Kong tears through the village and Denham throws a bomb squarely against Kong’s chest so that the liquid struggled blindly on, knocking the beast out. With the giant beast conquered, Kong is put into chains and arrangements made to transport him back to New York. After considerable effort the men got the animal towed out to the ship, as she lay at anchor in the little harbor. “We’ve got the biggest capture in the world,” Denham tells the skipper. “There’s a million in it. And I’m going to share it with all of you. Listen! A few months from now it’ll be up in lights on Broadway. The spectacle nobody will miss. King Kong! The Eighth Wonder of the World!”

Episode #14, Broadcast Saturday, April 15, 1933
CAST: Peggy Allenby (Ann Darrow), George Gaul (Carl Denham and voice three), Jack McBryde (one of the reporters and voice one), William Naughton (photographer and voice two), and Ned Weaver (Jack Driscoll and voice four).
PLOT: An uneventful trip back to the great night on Broadway finally arrived. The crowd jammed four full blocks above Times Square and spilled over into the middle of Broadway. Traffic cops shook hopeless heads, twiddled helpless fingers and wearily motions taxicabs into the side streets above and below. Opening night and orchestra seats are $10. Backstage, Driscoll is wearing a tux; Ann is wearing an expensive gown. Reporters ask questions and Driscoll and Ann admit they are engaged to be married. When the curtain opens, Denham introduces people to Kong, chained to the wall with chrome steel. Ann Darrow is brought on stage to meet her captor. Photographers take pictures; the flash of the bulbs disturbs Kong greatly, who snaps chains and breaks from his bonds. Driscoll races Ann out the back door to her hotel for safety. Kong, meanwhile, crashes into the hotel lobby. The hotel detective empties his revolver into the monstrous intruder and looked incredulously at his weapon when Kong swung around in undiminished strength and crashed back to the street. The fury of Kong escapes into the street.

Episode #15, Broadcast Saturday, April 22, 1933
CAST: Peggy Allenby (Ann Darrow and Mable, the voice over the telephone), Tim Daniel Frawley (the police officer and first voice), George Gaul (Carl Denham), Taylor Graves (third voice), Horace Sinclair (second voice), and Ned Weaver (Driscoll).
PLOT: Kong kidnaps Ann and makes for the Empire State Building. Carl Denham rationalizes that the ape sought out the highest peak in the city, comparable to Skull Mountain. Planes from Roosevelt Field are careful not to fire in the direction of Ann, but Kong attempts to get the better of them. When multiple bullets rip through his heart, the ape plunges to his death. Admiring the body of Kong in the street, a police officer comments that he did not expect the airplanes to do the job. Denham replies that the aviators did not kill him. “It was beauty. As always, Beauty killed the beast.”

Closing
King Kong made a return visit to radio multiple times. On the evening of March 2, 1933*, King Kong premiered in New York at the Radio City Music Call. Broadcast over WJZ (NBC Blue Network) that Thursday evening, on a clear evening with little overcast, Graham McNamee hosted a special broadcast from 10:00 to 10:30 p.m., airtime purchased by RKO in an effort further promotion of the motion-picture to the radio audience. McNamee’s dialog over the air was scripted in advance.

* A number of reference sources on the Internet cite the New York premiere being March 7. This is obviously incorrect.

Actress Peggy Allenby
“I am speaking to you from the Musical Hall in Radio City, where we are gathered tonight to celebrate the gala opening of the thrilling picture, King Kong, by Marian C. Cooper and Edgar Wallace. This picture opens today simultaneously in both of the great theatres in Radio City. It is really an amazing sight to witness the great throngs gathered in these two theatres for this event. There are at least 10,000 people now watching the picture in the Music Hall and the new Roxy and there are thousands more in the lobbies waiting to get in. Out in the street, huge searchlights make Sixth Avenue and the cross-streets as bright as day. In the weird light, the display of prehistoric monsters on the marquee are fearsome indeed. There is a huge ape, fourteen feet tall, indulging in almost human motions. The life-size dinosaur stretches its menacing form over the gaping crowds.”

“The distinguished first night audience is typical of other famous Broadway first nights,” McNamee continued. “Stars of the entertainment world, business and political celebrities, critics and skeptics and just plain people. In a few moments I am going to see if I can’t bring to the microphone, some of these people whose names you all know.”

John Chapman, ace columnist of the New York News, appeared before the microphone, providing the radio audience advance notice of his review that would soon appear in the newspaper. Lowell Thomas followed, also providing his opinion of the gala and the movie itself. The comments of both Chapman and Thomas were scripted.

The New York engagement at Radio City’s Music Hall and the Roxy attracted a reported 50,000 people on opening day. Within the first four days, advertisements were hailing an all-time attendance record for an indoor event. The two movie theaters screened the film ten times every day.

On the evening of March 24, King Kong premiered on the West Coast. A remote broadcast over KECA from Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood, 11:30 to midnight, opening of movie on the West Coast in Hollywood. Broadcast from Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood, Harry Jackson directed the broadcast under the sponsorship of RKO Studios. Band leader Phil Harris served as master of ceremonies, interviewing a slew of personalities directly involved with the production of the motion-picture, including Merian C. Cooper, cinematographer Ernest B. Schoedsack, author, lecturer and adventurer Richard Halliburton, columnist Louella Parsons, and actors Frank Reichter, Bruce Cabot and Fay Wray. The interviews, though brief on the air, were not scripted.

Kong’s giant head was displayed both inside the lobby during the premiere and outside for a spell for publicity purposes. Because of the unplanned “Bank Holidays” that occurred as a result of FDR and the Great Depression, the Los Angeles premiere was delayed by over a week, with ticket prices dropped from $5.50 to $3.30.


On the evening of June 2, Jack Benny and cast performed a continuation of an on-going murder mystery, “Who Killed Mr. X?” on the weekly Chevrolet Program. Characters Holmes and Watson (pronounced Vatson, a Jewish stereotype) travel to the newly constructed Empire State Building where they do battle with King Kong. (Radio and stage actor Ralph Ashe also supplies the voice of radio’s The Shadow during the same spoof.) Howard Claney was the announcer. Alois Havrilla would not assume the announcing chore for that program until the fall.

Going forward, when guest celebrities appeared on radio programs, a mention of their accomplishments often included a reference to King Kong. When Bruce Cabot appeared on The Royal Hawaiian Hotel Show in 1934, the announcer mentioned his appearance in Midshipman Jack (1933) and King Kong (1933). When Fay Wray appeared as a guest on the Jimmy Fidler radio program in 1934, Hollywood on the Air, she talked about the technical challenges involved during the production of King Kong. When the actress appeared on 45 Minutes in Hollywood on the evening of May 6, 1934, she discussed the movies she enjoyed making, including King Kong… joking that the giant ape was the most difficult to take action from the director.

In 1963, Golden Records released a commercial LP dramatizing the movie scenario. New York actors Elaine Rose, Ralph Bell, Nat Polen and Dan Ocko supplied the voices. This recording, split into two parts, has been mistaken many times as surviving chapters from the 1933 radio serial. A seven-minute audio recording used to promote the movie was made by RKO in 1933, syndicated via transcription disc to local radio stations across the country, does exist in collector hands. The announcer asks those by the radio speakers to listen to the horrific sounds of Kong battling a ferocious dinosaur, and the screams of Fay Wray through the music of Max Steiner. Audio clips from the movie are featured prominently. “King Kong is coming! The picture that staggers the imagination!” the announcer proclaims.

Again, the 1933 radio serial does not exist in recorded form. You can listen to the 1963 Golden Records on YouTube, as well as the seven-minute 1933 radio advertisement.


Friday, October 9, 2015

Bela Lugosi in "MURDER AT THE VANITIES"

Rudy Vallee may have left us almost 30 years ago, but he certainly left behind a legacy that exists through recorded sound. Valle himself paid for radio transcriptions of his Sunday evening broadcasts, and his hour-long variety program was not just among the top-rated programs on NBC, but on a whole, one of the highest-rated programs of the 1930s. During his prime, The Fleischmann's Yeast Hour, The Sunshine Hour and The Royal Gelatin Hour (so aptly named after the sponsor's product and mislabeled as The Rudy Vallee Show in numerous reference guides), stars of both stage and screen appeared on the program. Comedians performing at nightclubs found themselves with weekly radio contracts soon after their radio debut; Vallee and his producers often providing the spotlight for up-and-coming talent such as Edgar Bergen, Milton Berle and Bob Hope.

Sad statistic: Only about half of his radio broadcasts exist in recorded form. The program may not be as popular today such as The Shadow, The Mysterious Traveler and The Lone Ranger, where the scarcity of an un-circulated transcription disc means astronomical prices, but Rudy Vallee's programs are still in demand and sought after by collectors. Among the lost radio broadcasts is the evening of October 12, 1933, when Bela Lugosi, having established a reputation for his portrayal of Dracula on both stage and screen, made a guest appearance on The Fleischmann's Yeast Hour. A recording may not exist but the script does. Reprinted below are the very page featuring Bela Lugosi's dramatic appearance before the radio microphone. 

By the way, it appears the "lost" show may have been found recently. I made arrangements for it to arrive by mail on CD but until I listen to it to verify, it is safe to say the recording is still "lost." (Cross your fingers.) I rarely read or post comments under my blog posts but if the recording does exist, I will add a comment notifying everyone of the news. 












Friday, October 2, 2015

The Twilight Zone: Eye of the Beholder

The Twilight Zone: "The Eye of the Beholder"
There can be no doubt about it. The "Eye of the Beholder" episode of The Twilight Zone remains one of the ten best episodes of the series. Being one of the most popular episodes of the series, this episode has been referenced and spoofed on numerous television programs from The Simpsons to The Family Guy. On the evening of April 19, 1997, Saturday Night Live featured a parody of this episode, which featured the doctors and nurses unraveling the bandages from Janet Tyler’s face. When her face is revealed, Pamela Anderson was the beautiful woman and the doctors all agreed that she really was beautiful. Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, Molly Sims was cast in the role of Janet Tyler in a remake of the same episode for the revival Twilight Zone series, initially telecast on April 30, 2003.

Fans of The Twilight Zone might be aware of the alternate title during the closing credits. While VHS and DVDs cite one title, "The Eye of the Beholder," airings on the SyFy Channel have "The Private World of Darkness" during the closing credits. The confusion lies in a minor legal hassle that Rod Serling, at his expense, had altered to please an independent film producer. (More about this later.)

The Twilight Zone: "The Eye of the Beholder"
The story concerned Janet Tyler who has gotten used to having bandages wrapped around her face for most of her life. She has finished her 11th surgery and while the doctors and surgeons remain hopeful, her condition remains a concern. The State does not allow horribly disfigured people with her bone structure and flesh type to exist in society – banishing them to a village where undesirables are segregated. Eleven is the mandatory number of “experiments” and if this latest surgery fails, the doctors will be forced to give her an ultimatum – banishment or extinction. While the leader of the State speaks “live” on television about “conformity” and a “single morality,” the surgeons spend their time cutting away the bandages from Janet Tyler’s head. Slowly they work until the last of the bandages is removed and to their horror, there has been no improvement. The lights go on to reveal the truth – she is beautiful – it is the doctors who are the monsters. Janet Tyler, frightened, attempts to flee. Almost as if a hand were guiding her, she runs into Mr. Smith, a representative from the village, who offers her a hand of friendship. He assures her that she will feel comfortable at her new home and will be loved. As Smith assures her, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Hoping for a future life with people of her own kind, she chooses to go with him.

“This is one of those wild ones that I came up with while lying in bed and staring into the darkness,” Serling told a reporter for TV Guide. “Nothing precipitated it beyond the writer’s instinct as to what constitutes an interesting story. Also, as is often the case on The Twilight Zone, I would like to make a thematic point. ‘The Monsters are Due on Maple Street’ was a parable having to do with prejudice. ‘Eye of the Beholder’ on the other hand made a comment on conformity. No audience likes a writer’s opinion thrust down their gullet as simply a tract. It has to be dramatized and made acceptably palatable within a dramatic form. This is how we designed ‘Eye of the Beholder’ and I think we were successful.”


Donna Douglas at the Monster Bash Convention
The CBS censors received the script on June 20, 1960. On the morning of June 23, Donald Gotschall of the editing department, having looked over the script page by page, contacted Del Reisman regarding two minor matters that piqued the network’s interest. The first was to make sure the cigarette package contained no commercial identification and the title of the magazine was fictitious. For a number of reasons, he suggested the nurse’s comment in the beginning of the episode, “If it were mine, I’d bury myself in a grave someplace” be removed. Serling and Houghton were responsible for the decision to remove the line or keep it intact. They did not remove the line from the script.

CBS had two major concerns, however, and on June 24, wrote a report and sent it to Del Reisman, Robert Hoag, George Amy, Buck Houghton, and Rod Serling, explaining that caution should be issued in the delivery of the nurse’s speech in the opening scenes, “so as to not offend the Nursing Association. We were informed the nurses would not be portrayed as being in our society, but in a fictitious one.” The other major concern was mentioned twice in the same report: to exercise directorial caution in the climatic scenes to avoid any element of shock – and that “the abrupt close ups of the nurses’ faces will not be played for shock.”


"The Eye of the Beholder" Bobble Head
The problem of how to avoid the faces of the doctors and nurses without making it too obvious with the viewers that a secret was being kept from them proved a challenge. “You could have done it all with inserts, but that would have made the audience suspicious,” explained director Heyes in an interview with Ben Herndon. “What I wanted to do was try and hold their attention and yet not let them see any faces – without having the audience say, ‘Hey, something’s wrong. They’re not showing the faces.’ In other words, there is constantly a very subtle camera movement, so that you’re not aware of the fact that when somebody turns around, for example, and starts to turn towards you, someone else walks in front of the camera just at the moment he’s turning so that you don’t actually see the front of his face." The tricks applied involved zooming in on a pack of cigarettes on the counter, making sure the only source of light was a lamp by the hospital bed, and the actors turning their faces toward the dark, allowing only the back of their heads exposed to the light. “I had the idea that the voices of these monster people would be very sympathetic,” continued Heyes. “Rod was surprised at that. He had not intended them to be that way, but he liked it. So I interviewed the actors for that show without ever seeing them. I sat in a room with my back to the door. They’d come in, and I’d read the part with them and listen only to their voices. I picked the people with the most sympathetic voices I could get. If we are going to believe that these people are the norm, then they have to sound like nice people.”


Edson Stroll and Donna Douglas
“The opposite is also true,” Heyes continued. “Under the bandages, I wanted a voice that suggested it could belong to an ugly person. I wanted a voice with character, harshness, and timbre. So we used a radio actress named Maxine Stuart, a marvelous actress, and she played the part of Janet Tyler under the bandages. Later, when we unwrapped the bandages, Donna Douglas emerged, so the part was actually played by two actresses. I thought we were going to use Maxine’s voice afterward as well, dubbing Donna after the bandages came off. But Donna was there throughout all the shooting, watching everything and listening, and she surprised me. When it came time to do the unwrapping scene, she had learned the vocal intonations and did her own dialogue sounding just like Maxine Stuart.”



“I was a newcomer from New York,” recalled Douglas. “They were looking for a woman of exceptional beauty and they picked me. Looking back I can express how proud I was to be a part of the show. It was fascinating how they put that together. The flesh-colored makeup on the nurses and doctors. They put makeup on me too, but I don’t know why since I was supposed to be under the bandages. I don’t know why they had someone different underneath the bandages. I would have done that. I guess it was the woman’s voice they were going after but I had the same voice.”

“Ethel Winant was a friend of mine at the time and she hired me for any show she was involved with. She was a dear,” recalled Maxine Stuart. “I was the victim under the bandages who was the most beautiful woman. I always had trouble crying tears on television such as Philco [Television Playhouse], but I cried tears under the bandages . . . I was into the role so much. They had me come back later and loop my voice to the film and that sound studio was at M-G-M. I could not see anything with the bandages around my face, so the cast or someone – I can’t remember – helped me move about. I had to go to the bathroom once and it was embarrassing!”

The Twilight Zone action figures
“Well I was kind of in the dark,” Edson Stroll recalled. “I didn’t know what they were doing, and it was a bit odd. I suspect Donna Douglas was in on it, because she knew how the story was working, but I was there just for the one scene and then walked away with her, so I wasn’t all too sure why there were people with monstrous makeup on their faces. Looking back now I am aware of what they were doing and it certainly was magnificent.”

To throw the audience off, in case they were to recognize the brand of cigarettes passed between nurses, a pack of Templeton Cigarettes were used. Templetons are produced by Austria Tabak, a German manufacturing company that manufactured a large variety of cigarettes for European distribution. All of the actors and actresses were required to wear the makeup at all times, even before the unraveling of the bandages, but there was apparently an exception – the opening scenes in Janet Tyler’s room with the nurse before Serling’s intro and the scene with the doctor and nurse behind the screen. The actors, in those particular opening scenes, did not have any makeup on their faces (confirmed through production notes). Among the cast was Joanna Heyes, as the receptionist who takes the pack of cigarettes off the counter seconds before Rod Serling walked on to the set. Joanna was the wife of Douglas Heyes, and she also played supporting roles in two episodes of television’s Thriller series that her husband directed. “When she came on the set with the full outfit on, all the makeup and everything, I glanced over and said, ‘Hi, honey, shouldn’t you be in makeup?’ The day did not go well from that point afterward.”

Originally, this episode was to grant Cayuga a savings of $10,000 budgetarily, but excessive shooting hours caused this episode to go into overtime, finishing at $3,000 less than anticipated. Owen S. Comora was the representative of advertising agency Young & Rubicam, on behalf of General Foods. He remained in constant communication with Serling to coordinate arrangements for all printed materials, news briefs, press releases, slide mailings, and all other forms of marketing that would promote the anthology series. For this episode, Comora wrote to Bob Stahl of TV Guide to remind him of an “extremely important point regarding all publicity” on this episode. “We must be extremely careful never to tip the most important element of the show,” he explained. “Neither the face beneath all those bandages nor the grotesque faces of everyone in the drama can ever be revealed in advance of the show. If they are divulged in either picture, storyline, feature or script form, Rod emphasized, it could ruin the impact of the entire show.”

Notice the makeup near the doctor's bottom lip coming off!

By the end of the first week of October 1960, publicity mailings were sent out regarding “Eye of the Beholder.” In addition to photo-storyline and telop-slide mailings, Young & Rubicam arranged to supply nationally an artist’s conception of the “Eye” theme (all details regarding the actors faces were, of course, kept secret). Morr Kusnet was the artist, commissioned by Y&R, and his work was mailed to some 450 TV stations.

On October 4, Owen S. Comora wrote to Serling, suggesting they send out a special letter or wire to at least 155 of the nation’s top TV editors. “To make it as effective as possible, I’d appreciate a quote from you on this film.” Two days latter, Serling told Comora, “There are times when film seems to fulfill its function – that of an eye, a story teller, and a probing machine into the innards of people. ‘Eye of the Beholder’ seems to us to eminently handle all these assignments and it does so with taste, excitement and meaning. I think it’s one of the most unique shows we’ve ever done on The Twilight Zone and conceivably is one of the most unusual ever to appear on television.”

TV Guide ran a four-page story titled “Anatomy of a Script.” This piece contained the first few pages from the actual script. The idea was to show how a teleplay was written in both style and format. The article was certainly effective because it appeared on the same week “Eye of the Beholder” aired. This fact was pointed out in the introductory text of the article. This was through special arrangement with Merrill Panitt of TV Guide on August 12, 1960, with the assistance of Patricia Temple, Serling’s secretary.

The CBS network agreed to increase their on-the-air network spot announcements for the show, during this particular week, leading up to the broadcast. On November 14, Comora of Y&R wrote Serling, “I think the publicity on ‘Eye of the Beholder’ was phenomenal. The seven-city Arbitron seemed to reflect this and the word of mouth on the show had been exceptional – the best of any show this year.”


When this episode aired on November 11, 1960, the title on the screen (and on advance publicity) was “Eye of the Beholder.” When it was rerun on June 15, 1962, the title card had been altered to read “The Private World of Darkness.” Why the titular change? As Serling admitted in a letter dated August 31, 1962, “Eye of the Beholder” had its title changed because of a legal hassle. “There had been a program on the old General Electric Theatre a number of years ago utilizing the same title; and in face of threatened litigation, we altered it to ‘The Private World of Darkness.’”


On November 7, 1960, upon learning of the title through advance publicity, Stuart Reynolds of Stuart Reynolds Productions, a motion picture company responsible for producing General Electric Theatre, The Cavalcade of America, Hong Kong Adventure and Wild Bill Hickok, wrote a letter to Serling, explaining his stance. “This morning, I tried to reach you or Buck Houghton to notify you that your next Twilight Zone program to be aired this coming Friday and titled ‘Eye of the Beholder’ is exactly the same as one which we produced for the General Electric Theatre in October of 1953. Our ‘Eye of the Beholder’ was telecast over the CBS network for G.E. shortly after it was produced and again in the summer of 1954. Also, prints of this film are now being shown all over the world as part of a filmed syndicated anthology series titled Four Star Showcase. And, in addition, and equally important, is the fact that we are distributing this film as an educational aid to universities and industry dramatizing the theory of perception – why ‘no two people see the same thing in the same way.’ Following the initial appearance of our film on CBS, we have spent thousands of dollars in promotion and advertising of this particular film. To have a film bearing the same title appear on such a popular program as Twilight Zone on CBS at this time would tend to create confusion and possible injury and loss of revenue to us. As the lawyers would say – ‘Please cease and desist from using such title on Twilight Zone – but, as friends, we sincerely do urge you to do something about this now, before Friday."

Reynolds phoned Houghton and demanded he speak with Serling personally, but since the playwright was unavailable, Houghton referred Reynolds to attorney Sam Kaplan. On Wednesday, having consulted a group of UCLA professors and having screened many potential films, they found one – and only one – that had any value as an educational film that could merit distribution to schools, colleges and universities. While Serling told Reynolds he would be more than happy to cooperate, Aubrey had the final say because the film was a joint venture between Cayuga and CBS. The network sent Reynolds a rejection letter.


Reynolds talked to Kaplan, explaining the problem, and upset there was no assurance a correction would be made before airtime, consulted his attorney. Serling received the letter, forwarded to him from CBS, on Saturday morning. “My first knowledge of the title mix-up came on Thursday evening, via a telephone call from my attorney, Sam Kaplan, at Ashley-Steiner,” Serling replied to Reynolds. “Needless to say, I had no prior knowledge whatsoever of the previous usage of ‘Eye of the Beholder’ on your General Electric Theatre or anywhere
else. Since its genesis was that of a classic and well-known quote, it seemed a particularly safe choice at the time that I put it in the script.” Serling’s experience had encompassed the multi-usage of titles on other properties, so it never occurred to him that any kind of legal hassle would result. In an effort to avoid legal issues, he assured Reynolds that Cayuga intended to re-shoot both the title and trailer footage in which the title had previously been used. No further advertising would go out in which the title “Eye of the Beholder” was mentioned.

The episode aired as intended and unaltered. On November 16, Reynolds sent a reply to Serling, blaming CBS, who he felt, “does not keep better records in their title department.” The attorney for Reynolds continued to protest the use, even with Serling’s confirmation that changes were going to be made. On November 29, Serling explained to the still-persisting Reynolds, “I can well understand your feeling of propriety in the title of ‘Eye of the Beholder’ and the tone of your letter seemed to indicate that you were aware of my position on the other side of the spectrum. The quote is as eminently public domain as it is eminently well-known and it never occurred to me that anyone had capitalized on it and that my use of it would be detrimental. I’m delighted that the thing seems to be in the process of being ironed out to the satisfaction of all parties.”

(Ironically, almost two years later, Stuart Reynolds contacted James Aubrey of CBS in an attempt to acquire a negative of “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street” because of its psychological value, in hopes of distributing the film commercially.)


"Eye of the Beholder"
Both versions of the episode (each featuring the different closing credits with different title) have been released commercially on home video and DVD over the years, and in subsequent television reruns, offering viewers the opportunity to see the two versions. The most recent DVD and BluRay releases feature both versions, although one is labeled "alternate version."

The General Electric Theatre story of the same name was telecast in December of 1953. The teleplay by Hannah Grad Goodman, presented the story of a talented artist in search of his Madonna. Everyone in town, however, judged him by the way he dressed, walked and talked. The cab driver thought he was a hood. To his mother, he was thoughtless and unappreciative. His landlord thought he was a lunatic, and the perfect model for his inspiration thought he was a square. When the model for his canvas showed up tipsy after a hard night, he remonstrated with her bodily and she fell in a heap, more from her alcoholic content than the roughing. A cleaning woman saw this and sounded the alarm that there had been a murder. Obviously, there was no material that mirrored the Twilight Zone production, but the title was enough to cause temporary havoc.

Ironically, months before, on August 8, 1960, the New York Herald Tribune published a favored and respected comment by Serling regarding the G.E. Theatre. “The half-hour film has always been an imitative, doggy, telegraphed, insipid, assembly-line product since its inception eleven years ago,” Serling commented. “In the past few years, good anthology shows like G.E. Theatre have proven that the half-hour film can make a point tellingly and dramatically. The Twilight Zone is attempting this, too. It will often fall on its duff and on occasion will mistake pretension for maturity (a common fault of many of the ninety-minute specs), but the attempt at quality is always there.”

Phone on the right can be seen in "Third from the Sun"
and "One More Pallbearer" among other episodes!
On August 1, 1960, while the sets were being designed and built, Serling drafted “The Leader’s Voice,” which would be featured throughout the second half of the episode. Two speeches were composed and recorded separately from the Janet Tyler scenes, so the Leader’s voice could be later added to the soundtrack, and the film placed on large television screens during the editing. The first was used through the bandage removal scene. The second speech was revealed more visually during Janet’s attempt to escape through the corridor. These speeches, while heard in sections on this episode, appear in print in their complete form, reprinted below, courtesy of CBS, Inc.:
       “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight I shall talk to you about glorious conformity . . . About the delight and the ultimate pleasure of our unified society . . . You recall, of course, that directionless, unproductive, over-sentimentalized era of man’s history when it was assumed that dissent was some kind of natural and healthy adjunct of society. We also recall that during this period of time there was a strange over-sentimentalized concept that it mattered not that people were different, that ideas were at variance with one another, that a world could exist in some kind of crazy, patch-work kind of make up, with foreign elements glued together in a crazy quilt. We realize, of course, now, that . . .”
       “I say to you now . . . I say to you now that there is no such thing as a permissive society, because such a society cannot exist! They will scream at you and rant and rave and conjure up some dead and decadent picture of an ancient time when they said that all men are created equal! But to them equality means an equality of opportunity, an equality of status, an equality of aspiration! And then in what must surely be the pinnacle of insanity; the absolute in inconsistency, they would have had us believe that this equality did not apply to form, to color, to creed. They permitted a polygot, accident-bred, mongol-like mass of diversification to blanket the earth, to infiltrate and weaken! Well we know now that there must be a single purpose! A single norm! A single approach! A single entity of peoples! A single virtue! A single morality! A single frame of reference! A single philosophy of government! We cannot permit . . . we must not permit the encroaching sentimentality of a past age to weaken our resolve. We must cut out all that is different like a cancerous growth!”

The November 14, 1960 issue of The Hollywood Reporter reviewed, “The biggest reward for that evening was a Twilight Zone that should rank as one of Rod Serling’s best scripting efforts. Titled ‘Eye of the Beholder,’ it combined suspense (through excellent low-key camera work) with some of the most penetrating dialogue we’ve ever heard – a preachment against ‘conformity’ in a Zone where (at the surprise finish) ‘ugliness is the norm and beauty the deviation.’ Borrowing the thought of Serling’s theme, shall the public at large ‘conform’ to the tastes of a minority group of intellectuals and pseudo-intellectuals? We think not!”

"Eye of the Beholder"
On January 3, 1961, wife Mary Cummings wrote to Rod Serling, explaining that the Cummings household received from the Directors’ Guild of America a list of titles which would be considered for nominations for best directorial achievement during 1960 for the Television Academy’s Emmy Awards. “King Nine Will Not Return” was not included, and Mary requested Serling talk to producer Buck Houghton and make whatever arrangements were necessary in getting the episode on the list so members would have a chance to vote on it. Only the producer, not the actor, can make that request. Her husband, Robert Cummings, gave a brilliant performance for the season opener and she wanted him to be nominated for best actor.

On January 9, Serling sent the following apology to Mary and Robert Cummings, “Unfortunately and regretfully, I was unable to include ‘King Nine’ in the Emmy nominations for that time period. Another of our shows called ‘Eye of the Beholder’ seemed to have been better written. It could not boast the kind of brilliant tour-de-force performance that Bob gave in ‘King Nine,’ but as an over-all production found more audience favor.” For the Emmy Awards, the television program voted best of the season was not represented by the entire season as a whole, but rather only one episode -- the best episode of the season -- was submitted to judges for consideration. Submitting "Eye of the Beholder" was a brilliant stroke on Houghton's part... it helped The Twilight Zone win another Emmy.

On January 11, 1961, Serling replied to a request from Peter S. Mallett, director of dramatics at the Bellows Free Academy in St. Albans, Vermont. “We have been forced to make a standard rule rejecting offers of copies of the script since these requests come in on the average of fifty to a hundred each week. To date there have been one hundred and sixteen requests for copies of ‘Eye of the Beholder,’ and it is for this reason we’ve been forced to hew to a hard and fast rule rather than grant some requests and then quietly unfairly failing to accommodate others. And after this somewhat negative approach, and in my usual disconnected fashion, I’m enclosing a copy of the script to perform as you see fit. There is no royalty payment required and the only requirement is that no admission be charged for its performance.”

"Eye of the Beholder"
On October 25, 1961, Lynn Anderson in San Francisco wrote to Serling, explaining a commercial promoting the television program, which featured numerous close-up shots of the monsters from this Twilight Zone episode, and the Devil from “The Howling Man” and “Nick of Time.” The commercial was being shown at the end of children’s TV programs in the morning and during a circus show early in the evening. “As a result of viewing this macabre presentation, [my son] has had various nightmares involving these horrible faces and is frightened in his room at night with the lights off. He says he’s afraid of those people – and describes the commercial.”

The letter was forwarded to Serling from CBS, and on November 13, 1961, he sent a reply explaining that The Twilight Zone is scheduled for ten o’clock Friday evenings – a time frame designed for adult viewing. “Without my knowledge and certainly without my support, film clips of this program have been shown as promotional material during the daylight hours. I deeply regret that this has been the case but unfortunately have no control whatsoever over the networks promotional planning and programming. Please accept my apologies for this. I’m sending a copy of your letter to the network here on the Coast in the hopes that this particular film clip will be taken out of use during the daytime hours."

In January of 1962, this episode of The Twilight Zone was shown at the TV Festival of Monte Carlo. Paris Match, a French news magazine, featured photos of the monstrous faces of the doctor and the nurses in one of its issues, to help promote the festival and the television series. Makeup artist Rick Baker, whose work was responsible for such movies as An American Werewolf in London (1981) and Greystoke (1984), was influenced early on by this television episode. After viewing the telecast at the age of 15, he managed to reproduce the same makeup job from this episode.

This episode was selected for use in the “Cable in the Classroom” program. This episode was ranked in the January/February 1998 issue of Cinescape as the sixth-best science fiction television episode of all time.


Production #3640 “EYE OF THE BEHOLDER”
(Initial telecast: November 11, 1960)
Cayuga Productions, Inc., November 10, 1960, LP19931
Copyrighted under the title “The Private World of Darkness"
Dates of Rehearsal: August 1 and 2, 1960
Dates of Filming: August 3, 4 and 5, 1960
Script #40 dated: June 8, 1960, with revised pages dated August 1, 1960
Shooting script dated: August 1, 1960

Production Costs
Producer and Secretary: $1,775.00
Story and Secretary: $2,650.00
Director: $1,250.00
Cast: $5,294.39
Unit Manager and Secretary: $600.00
Production Fee: $825.00
Agents Commission: $2,500.00
Legal and Accounting: $250.00
Below the line charges (M-G-M): $31,663.49
Below the line charges (other): $1,791.12
Total Production Costs: $48,599.00

Cast
Donna Douglas (Janet Tyler, revealed); William D. Gordon (the doctor); Jennifer Howard (Janet’s nurse); Joanna Heyes (the reception nurse); George Keymas (the Leader); Edson Stroll (Walter Smith); and Maxine Stuart (Janet Tyler, bandaged).

Original Music Score
Composed and Conducted by Bernard Herrmann (Music No. CPN5926): Etrange #3 (by Marius Constant, :09); Milieu #1 (by Constant, :16); Patience (:12); The Nurse (:44); The Hospital (:54); The Doctor (:16); The Plea (:46); Lead-In (:06); Declaration (:03); The Bandage (1:50); The Last Bandage (1:31); Hysteria (1:13); The Revelation (1:47); Etrange #3 (by Constant, :10); and Milieu #2 (by Constant, :30).

Production Credits
Associate Producer: Del Reisman
Assistant Director: Henry Weinberger
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens, a.s.c.
Casting: Ethel Winant
Film Editor: Leon Barsha, a.c.e.
Production Managers: E. Darrell Hallenbeck and Ralph W. Nelson
Sound: Franklin Milton and Charles Scheid
Makeup: William Tuttle
Art Director: George W. Davis and Phil Barber
Directed by Douglas Heyes
Set Decorations: Henry Grace and H. Web Arrowsmith
Teleplay by Rod Serling.

Opening Narration
“Suspended in time and space for a moment. Your introduction to Miss Janet Tyler who lives in a very private world of darkness; a universe whose dimensions are the size, thickness, length of a swath of bandages that cover her face. In a moment we’ll go back into this room and also in a moment we’ll look under those bandages. Keeping in mind, of course, that we’re not to be surprised by what we see, because this isn’t just a hospital. And this patient in 307 is not just a woman. This happens to be the Twilight Zone . . . and Miss Janet Tyler, with you, is about to enter it!"

Closing Narration
“Now the questions that come to mind . . . where is this place and when is it. What kind of world where ugliness is the norm and beauty the deviation from that norm? You want an answer? The answer is . . . it doesn’t make any difference. Because the old saying happens to be true. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In this year or a hundred years hence. On this planet or wherever there is human life perhaps out amongst the stars. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Lesson to be learned . . . in The Twilight Zone.”

Trailer: “Next week, you’ll see these bandages unwrapped and you’ll get a good, close look at the face beneath them. It’s an excursion into the odd and into the very, very diff erent. Our play is called ‘The Eye of the Beholder’ and it comes recommended. I hope we’ll see you next week on the Twilight Zone. Thank you and good night.”

The enclosed was a sample reprinted with permission from THE TWILIGHT ZONE: UNLOCKING THE DOOR TO A TELEVISION CLASSIC by Martin Grams, Jr. Available for sale on Amazon.com and www.MartinGrams.com.