Just in case you missed the first time . . .
- 31 December: Here’s to the New Year
- 24 December: ‘Tis the night before Christmas
- 20 December: From Macy’s to Dickens on the plains
- 12 December: Eden rocked
- 9 December: The aftermath, continued . . .
- 8 December: Immediate aftermath
- 7 December: The date still lives in infamy
- 5 December: The mean widdle man-kid
- 21 November: Freed fall
- 20 November: A twin triumph for Lurene Tuttle
We’re building a history here . . .
Author Archives: Jeff Kallman
It could have been better . . . it certainly could have been worse . . . but now let’s say goodbye to 2015 the auld-time radio way, beginning (perhaps this will become a tradition in this space, too) with a legendary New Year’s Eve music special for American and other troops still scattered ’round in the immediate wake of World War II . . .
One or another way, Christmas Eve broadcasts over classic (1927-62) network radio will survive to be heard by generations who weren’t alive when radio was the world’s primary conductor of home entertainment. These can be considered some of the finest gifts the era bequeathed, even unto generations jaded enough by video and cinematic excess and ubiquity that you fear their inability to appreciate what one radio show’s customary introduction called “the theater of the mind.”
Darryl F. Zanuck thought releasing Miracle on 34th Street as summer 1947 was born would be a clever idea because, well, he thought more people go to the movies in summer. Lux Radio Theater thinks tonight’s the more appropriate time to present its radio adaptation. In a small piece of poetic justice, the broadcast won’t injure the film at the next Academy Awards, where Edmund Gwenn will win Best Supporting Actor for the role he reprises tonight.
What Mr. Chase doesn’t know about comedy, Mr. Sanborn doesn’t know, either. But Standard Brands, NBC, and enough of the country will learn soon enough after tonight’s Chase & Sanborn Hour.
Arch Oboler won’t be a name remembered much for comedy, if at all. He’ll be remembered as the brains that succeeded mastermind Wyllis Cooper in producing and delivering perhaps radio’s most incandescent horror exercise, Lights Out. But when he dips into comedy there are those who wish his lights were out.
The aftermath of Pearl Harbour continues apace, and aboard old-time radio in particular. And one of the earliest counter-volleys to America now being yanked into the war comes from one of NBC’s biggest successes.
Fibber McGee & Molly is now long established as the network’s Tuesday night mainstay and powerhouse. The network announces it will deliver the latest war news before every network program, while McGee sponsor S.C. Johnson & Son throws a gauntlet straight down toward all radio advertisers, by way of a message from the wax maker’s president offered in lieu of its usual show-opening commercial: