The Horn Section Salutes: LEON ERROL (1881?-1951)

Marion Martin, Leon Errol and Lupe Velez, L to R

No, it isn't his birthday this month, nor his death anniversary.  Just a realization that 65 years after his passing, Leon Errol has become criminally underappreciated.  I'd certainly say that with Warner Archive now giving DVD availability to most of the Wheeler and Woolsey RKO features, Errol is without question the most undeservedly obscure comedy great of the twentieth century.

Errol's entertainment career spanned more than half a century.  He originally planned to be a surgeon, studying at Sydney University, but the pre-med student enjoyed unexpected success penning and performing in a vaudeville revue circa 1896.  The original intent was to help put himself through medical school, but the lure of the stage finally won out as Errol displayed a real flair for physical comedy as a performer, writer and director.   Incidentally, Errol's oft-cited birth year of 1881 is at odds with this timing, as noted previously by author Frank Cullen in Vaudeville Old and New--Cullen reports that a birth year of 1876 is a more likely for Mr. Errol. 

Leon Errol emigrated to the United States around 1904 along with dance partner Stella Chatelaine (they married in 1906) and initially performed on the West Coast.  Leon's physical comedy with often inebriated characters and wobbly-legged walking made him an immediate hit onstage.  Off it, he was a jack of all trades, not only starring and producing but also writing music, lyrics and librettos.  While managing Orpheum Theatre in Portland, Leon hired an 18-year old Roscoe Arbuckle for one company tour. 

Leon with Lupe Velez

The Errols eventually landed in New York for Leon's (and Stella's) Broadway debut on June 26, 1911: The Ziegfield Follies of 1911 also marked the debut of a truly groundbreaking comedy team when Errol collaborated with African-American comedy legend Bert Williams.  Whether they were the first black-and-white comedy team in the U.S.A. is uncertain, but Cullen confirms they were the very first to perform on Broadway.  Sketches with Williams as the service provider and Errol as his tipsy customer were judged the hit of the show in 1911 and the teaming continued for the next four years of Follies. 

Thus began Leon Errol's long association with Broadway.  Over the next eighteen years, he appeared in 21 shows on the Great White Way, also directing and choreographing many, including the 1914 edition of the Follies.  While Leon was respected for his varied talents and impeccable with dialogue, it was his aforementioned drunk act that continued to attract the most attention, earning him the enduring nickname "Rubberlegs".  Staggering and tottering while wrinkling his beak-like nose, the balding Errol could also get laughs effortlessly without a single word.

The ability to do so without great material would serve him well after he made the full-time jump to motion pictures.  Leon's prime years were spent on the stage.  By the time he starred in his first sound feature (1930's ONLY SAPS WORK) he was nearly fifty (maybe even over it, as noted above)--older than all of his comedy contemporaries save W.C. Fields.  By then, Errol's distinctive features had grown almost as rubbery as those legs, which still wobbled as unsteadily as ever.  Errol transitioned comfortably into both features and two-reelers.

If his age was the first reason that Errol didn't quite get the push to stardom that younger comedians received in the next two decades (i.e. the Marx Brothers, Laurel and Hardy, the Three Stooges), the second might be repetitive material--more on that we go move through his filmography in future posts. 

A typical Errol moment, with Claire Carleton

As was the case with Fields, age didn't really soften Errol's onscreen image, which belied his faithful forty-year marriage off screen.  Philandering, lying, sneaky and lecherous, the stock "Leon Errol" character of the RKO shorts is pretty refreshing to modern eyes.  No wonder the series lasted eighteen years (after a brief stint with Columbia's shorts department).  Leon had the avuncular role of Uncle Matt Lindsay in the MEXICAN SPITFIRE film series (1939-1943) opposite equally underrated Lupe Velez, and also got to play his besotted, toffee-nosed alter ego Lord Epping in seven of the eight films in that very popular RKO series.  Dual roles were always a specialty: Errol had well over a dozen in his filmography. 

As Lord Epping in MEXICAN SPITFIRE'S BABY (1941)

Despite his late start in Hollywood, Leon Errol was remarkably durable.  He kept right on working after Stella Errol's sudden death from a brain hemorrhage in 1946, landing another film series as Knobby Walsh in the JOE PALOOKA series while continuing to churn out shorts for RKO.

There was some concern that Leon was nearing the end of the line in 1950 when an illness forced his exit from the PALOOKA series after eight entries and limited him to three new shorts, but the septuagenarian comic came roaring back the following year. 

With W.C. Fields: great minds drink alike!

Errol completed six new two-reelers in 1951, playing a dual role in two and reprising his most famous alter ego in Lord Epping Returns, which sadly would be the last released in his lifetime.  Just three weeks after its release, Errol suffered a fatal heart attack on October 12.  And if two-reelers were slowing down, Errol hadn't been intending to: he was in negotiations to bring his character to television in 1952 with long-time screen wife Dorothy Grainger co-starring.  A trouper to the end.

Leon Errol could make even a weak script hold some interest with his considerable and well-honed talents.  As the Leon Errol Salute Series commences, we will review some of those now-forgotten--but surprisingly entertaining--shorts and feature films that Mr. Errol left for us during the last two decades of his fifty years in show business.

F TROOP Fridays: "O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly" (1965)

F TROOP Fridays: Number 13










F TROOP: "O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly" (1965 ABC-TV/Warner Brothers) Season One, Episode One: Original Air Date December 7, 1965.  Starring Forrest Tucker as Sergeant Morgan O'Rourke, Larry Storch as Corporal Randolph Agarn, Ken Berry as Captain Wilton Parmenter, Melody Patterson as Wrangler Jane, Frank deKova as Chief Wild Eagle, Benny Baker as Pete, James Hampton as Bugler Dobbs.  Guest Star Lee Meriwether as Lily O'Reilly.  Directed by Les Goodwins.  Written by Arthur Julian.

On a sunny day in Fort Courage, Sergeant O'Rourke and Corporal Agarn are hard at work inside their saloon with bartender Pete.  No, the thriving cornerstone business of O'Rourke Enterprises isn't open for the day just yet--before they can, there's whiskey that still needs to be watered down. 

The slightest noise from outside makes good old Pete nervous, with some good reason: "Nobody knows you own this saloon!  Everybody thinks I own it!"  Corporal Agarn reassures the public face of the Fort Courage Saloon that they're doing nothing wrong--just "puttin' the chaser in the bottle!"  Easy to get away with, when your business is unchallenged for a hot and thirsty 109-mile radius.  Oh, and that ruckus outside?   The noon stage from Dodge City just arrived with pretty young newcomer Lily O'Reilly.

Agarn's reaction to her is fair representative of every other lovesick horndog Fort Courage male, but the more reserved O'Rourke proves to be as sharp an operator outside the saloon as in it, immediately catchin' on that she's a "daughter of the old sod".  Aye, but shrewd Miss O'Reilly pegs him as a "chip off the old blarney stone".  A promisin' beginnin', mind ya, but there's soon troublin' signs....

Lily plans to give the town a second female entrepreneur to go with general store proprietor Wrangler Jane.  And a rather progressive one, since she plans to open up a competing saloon to share that 109 mile radius with O'Rourke's.  That is, until she learns that a soldier on active duty is her competitor: a revelation that has her taking over the Sarge's lease with nary a struggle.   With 99 years (and an option for 99 more) secured, O'Reilly begins making successful changes, while seething O'Rourke watches helplessly as his business contacts and partners desert him one by one for the enchanting "new management" his saloon is under.

For the second week in a row after Honest Injun, well established O'Rourke Enterprises faces a challenge to the old master's throne.   For all of the Sarge's business sense, Ms. O'Reilly can match him in that category.  It's Lily's feminine wiles that give her a leg up, allowing her to simply blast through every roadblock the Sergeant can throw out: a lease, a liquor permit from the military governor (watch out, Jane!)...

How soon do you want that permit?

..and even O'Rourke's heretofore iron-clad agreement with the area's only whiskey producer.  No one can look into her smilin' Irish eyes and say no.

Ninety-nine years, with an option for ninety-nine more!

The last of five installments helmed by comedy veteran Leslie Goodwins (the MEXICAN SPITFIRE series, countless Leon Errol RKO shorts), O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly moves merrily along while you're watching it.  By this time only two years from retiring (he died in 1969), Goodwins remains a maestro of visual gags, milking props (a cookie jar, the Captain's portrait of General Grant) for all they're worth and getting just enough mileage out of the distraction created by Lily.  Goodwins also knows when to quit, ending that recurring slapstick gag (featuring men falling off roofs and into water troughs) early in the second act.  One quibble, though: the director should have allowed this show-stopping visual to be the closer:

The underlying subtext in O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly: complacency created by O'Rourke's monopoly left him vulnerable to a hostile takeover.  After being served whiskey that is watered down and subpar (with "just a touch of moccasin"), the Sarge's customers wildly approve of the new owner's changes, creating a nine hour wait for entrance.  (To be fair, it's only six hours to get to the bar once you're in.)  A lesson is learned once everything is back to normal: for the grand re-opening, O'Rourke declares that they will "serve whiskey in our whiskey'"!

1955's Miss America, Meriwether is solid casting for the eye-pleasing business rival who causes even the Vice President of O'Rourke Enterprises to consider shifting loyalty ("I was a spy, Sarge!" he insists).  Speaking of Agarn, Larry Storch gets his usual chance to shine here, reprising his drunk act from CAR 54 in an effort to keep Fort Courage a "one sin town" and providing the outpost's new Temperance League with its tambourine as well as the urgency that drives this installment to its climax.

Said finale is the biggest flaw with O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly.  The donnybrook inadvertently started by preachy Agarn is "the Battle of Bull Run all over again", resulting in the demolition of the saloon and Lily O'Reilly's abrupt decision to go back to Dodge.

But it's a more awkward journey back to the status quo than usual.  Lily O'Reilly has every man in town wrapped around her finger (sans O'Rourke, that is), so why shouldn't she just move her saloon back to its original, unharmed building across the street?  The Sergeant is in no position to stop her, since she still has plenty of blackmail material to hang over his head.  (Strangely she only mentions his saloon ownership while on active duty, bypassing the much more serious infraction: a business partnership with the Hekawis!).  When she shows a romantic interest in her rival in the end--and that does make sense, as he's the only man who challenges her--she still seems to give up her budding empire way too easily. 

Wrangler Jane has only a cameo--strangely, no fireworks from Wilton's lovesick reaction to the new gal in town.  Crazy Cat and Trooper Vanderbilt are both missing from O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly, but Benny Baker makes the second of his five appearances as bartender/frontman Pete. 

THINGS WE LEARNED:

Clem Witherspoon is Fort Courage's never-seen man to see for building permit, and the first of many to disappoint the town's most prominent businessman.

There isn't a rattlesnake within fifty miles of the Fort--according to O'Rourke, it's because the clever creatures know there's a saloon there.

This segment must have taken place after 1874, when Bringing in the Sheaves was written.

Dobbs is pretty hopeless on the bugle, but he's Don Brewer-level competent on that drum.   He would later prove to be a talented flutist in What Are You Doing After the Massacre? and That's Show Biz.  Enough to make you think the army should consider a switch from brass instrument to woodwind, just this once.

NUMBER OF TIMES O'ROURKE COULD HAVE BEEN TRIED FOR TREASON:

Once. As mentioned above, Lily O'Reilly certainly could have hung that business agreement with Wild Eagle over his head had she wanted to.  She must have really taken a shine to the Sarge.  Maybe she heard the rumors....

WARNER BROTHERS' RECYCLING, PART 1,570:

The ever-cheap studio found a way to re-use the barroom brawl footage from DODGE CITY (1939) yet again.  While the fit isn't seamless, it works better here than in A Fort's Best Friend is Not a Mother.

PC, OR NOT PC?

One string of comments to offend everyone, with Wild Eagle giving us the most sexist words of all--before he's face to face with Lily O'Reilly--that is.  The Chief laughs off warnings with the cringe-worthy declaration that "squaw is squaw"!  She quickly renders him speechless, so we get no words of wisdom from the wise one this time.

BOTTOM LINE:

I overrated this one a little bit initially: the ending is way too pat and some comic potential goes unrealized.  That said, I don't want to knock it down too far.  Until that shakier-than-usual journey back to Fort Courage's existing state of affairs, O'Rourke vs. O'Reilly provides plenty of great laughs and one of the titular Sergeant's most formidable foes.  It's too bad Meriwether never reprised her role: Lily O'Reilly could have been to F TROOP what Samantha Crawford was to MAVERICK.  (*** out of four) 

Television Review: HONDO: "Hondo and the Mad Dog" (1967)

"Your lives are meaningless compared to HONDO!"






HONDO: "Hondo and the Mad Dog"  (1967 ABC-TV/MGM/Batjac Productions) Episode 8; Original Air Date: October 27, 1967.  Starring Ralph Taeger as Hondo Lane, Noah Beery Jr. as Buffalo Baker, Kathie Browne as Angie Dow, Gary Clarke as Captain Richards, Buddy Foster as Johnny Dow.  Guest Stars James MacArthur as Corporal Barton, Royal Dano as Liebel, Ben Wright as Dr. Paul, William Benedict as Willie, James Beck as Sergeant Highton, Michael Harris as Mills.  Written by Nathaniel Tanchuck.  Directed by Arthur H. Nadel.


Series Overview for HONDO: TV's Unlikeliest Cult Hit at this link   


Perpetual poker loser Corporal Barton is out on patrol with Mills, who is a frequent beneficiary of his fellow non-com's ineptitude at the tables.  The two soldiers are hunting for rabid animals amid reports of a hydrophobia outbreak.   After Mills rebuffs Barton's request for a loan, the Corporal commits robbery and murder, not knowing his crime is being witnessed by Hondo Lane's dog Sam.  After realizing he's being watched, Barton tries to eliminate Sam but fails to do so before Hondo's best friend escapes and rejoins the scout. 

Back at Fort Lowell, Mills' horse turns up without him and Barton informs Captain Richards that he suspects his partner deserted.  Meanwhile, leery Fort Lowell residents are giving Sam a wide berth in the aftermath of the hydrophobia scare, and tensions intensify once Sam makes a growling lunge at his would-be killer in the cantina.  Corporal Barton slyly suggests that Lane's dog has gone mad, and then Johnny Dow is bitten by a white wolf that is driven away by Sam--with Hondo as the only witness.  With no human corroboration of Lane's version--that the child was bitten by a white wolf--outcry increases to destroy the canine, led by Barton and stern, dog-hating Liebel.  Sam is quarantined with Hondo given 20 hours to find the wolf before his pal will be destroyed.

The independence that comes from "belonging to nobody but himself" and hunting his own dinner turns from asset to liability in the wake of a rabies scare.  Innocent Sam is shunned by Fort Lowell's populace on nothing more than rumors, then pursued by a bloodthirsty lynch mob on admittedly compelling, but circumstantial evidence.  Lane, Buffalo and little Johnny Dow remain loyal, and neutral Captain Richards resists any lawlessness, but man's best friend is otherwise surrounded by enemies in Hondo and the Mad Dog.

Fortunately for our dynamic duo, the much more enlightened Dr. Paul is at Fort Lowell to assist with the hydrophobia scare.  Back from studies overseas with Pasteur, the Doctor is available to treat Johnny Dow--and to see Hondo's reasoning, namely that infection would have Sam biting "anyone and everyone" instead of a select few.   His credibility buys Hondo a little time to find the white wolf, but not much--and even the good Doctor thinks that Hondo may be after a "phantom".

As a rule, genre takes on frontier justice are pretty grim affairs (witness the later Hondo and the Hanging Town), even a novel one such as this.  But writer Nat Tanchuck (well-suited for animal-centric westerns, with numerous episodes of FURY and MY FRIEND FLICKA behind him) provides a fair amount of levity.   Barton's laughably bad "system" (standing pat on middle pairs in a draw game!) makes the source of his "losing streak" obvious and Hondo gets to deliver several deadpanned zingers at stone-faced Liebel (well played by the always sonorous Royal Dano).

Director Arthur H. Nadel established his western bonafides with multiple episodes of THE RIFLEMAN to his credit, and went on to helm a couple of two part LASSIEs.  He handles the challenge of staging more extended animal sequences than usual for the series, with Sam, the guest wolf, and even a chicken figuring prominently into the plot. 

During its short run, two of the seventeen HONDO segments featured a main storyline exploring the bond between the titular character and his faithful canine, with Hondo and the Mad Dog being the less sentimental of the Sam-centric episodes.  Hondo might disavow ownership of Sam, but Lane's loyalty to his best friend is never under question.  Lane proves it again here, standing alone between Sam and the throng "foaming at the mouth" to destroy the dog.  (Given his zest for the duty, it's questionable that the "mad" pooch Liebel shot earlier was sick at all.)   

In fact, Hondo and Sam both come through in the clutch, rescuing each other by the time all is said and done, with extra kudos due the latter in my opinion.  Despite an entire town turning against him and wanting him destroyed, Sam bravely saves Johnny from a wolf and Lane from a killer who gets the drop on our human hero.  Does Sam's heroism get him any special consideration afterward?  Nope!  Ever the tough love advocate, Hondo goes off to have a steak dinner while sending Sam out to hunt yet another jackrabbit for his.

Uh, Hondo, you are aware that since the wolf didn't have hydrophobia, there might still be an infected animal out there, aren't you? 

JUST A LITTLE AHEAD OF HIS TIME:

Dr. Paul mentions having had the opportunity to study rabies under Louis Pasteur, and specifically taking part in his successful discovery of a vaccine for humans.  However, HONDO is set five years after the Civil War (1870), some fifteen years before Pasteur's successful treatment of young Joseph Meister for the disease.

It ain't advisable to threaten Sam....

....as Liebel finds out.

HOW MANY CANS OF WHOOPASS?

Self-righteous Liebel gets himself decked for making one too many threats to destroy Sam.  Later, Hondo needs a timely assist from his canine pal to subdue the guilty Corporal.  Sam actually does more scrapping than his human in Hondo and the Mad Dog, defending Johnny from the wolf and tangling with Barton twice before the climactic showdown.

IS THE CANTINA STILL STANDING?

Lane stepped outside to do all his fightin' this time.  The only indoor skirmish was Sam's angry reaction to the man who attempted to stab him in the desert, and no furniture was harmed in the production of this television episode.

A DOG'S LIFE:

Hey, this one is all about Sam, what more can I say?

THE BOTTOM LINE:

An episode focusing on Sam seems like a sure thing, and extra time with our four legged friend is always welcome.  While a statement against vigilante justice is far from novel for a western, this one is made in a unique fashion, with a surprisingly healthy dose of humor considering the subject matter.  Not quite as emotionally resonant as Hondo and the Gladiators but slightly better executed.   (***1/2 out of four)

HONDO airs every Sunday morning at 7:30 A.M. Eastern Time on getTV, and throughout the month of October getTV is airing a four episode HONDO marathon every Wednesday night starting at 8 P.M. Eastern.

Television Review: LOVE THAT BOB: "Bob Traps a Wolf" (1957)

LOVE THAT BOB (a.k.a. THE BOB CUMMINGS SHOW): "Bob Traps a Wolf" (Original Air Date: 1/3/57) Starring Bob Cummings as Bob Collins, Rosemary DeCamp as Margaret MacDonald, Ann B. Davis as Charmaine "Schultzy" Schultz, Dwayne Hickman as Chuck MacDonald, Lyle Talbot as Paul Fonda, Angie Dickinson as Cynthia.  Written by Paul Henning, Shirl Gordon and Phil Shuken.  Directed by Norman Tokar. 

Series overview of LOVE THAT BOB a.k.a. THE BOB CUMMINGS SHOW at this link. 

Margaret has cooked beef stroganoff for dinner, but Playboy Bob already has something cookin' with model Cynthia, who has invited the perennial free bird to fly by her nest after the day's work is done.  Since Margaret is tired of putting dinners in the fridge (there's fourteen in there by her current count) Bob decides to play matchmaker for his sister and Paul Fonda, who matchmaker Bob suddenly deems a perfect brother-in-law despite his constant references to him as a "wolf.  It's to no avail: Bob only succeeds in offending Margaret, who feels like she's "on the auction block".  

Sister Margaret gets her revenge by implying to Cynthia that she is actually Bob's wife--and tending to multiple "little Bobs", including young Elvis.  With Cynthia slipping away, Bob doubles down on his attempts to marry his sister off, enlisting nephew Chuck with some financial enticement.  Margaret counterplots once her brother's back is turned, outbidding "Uncle Bob" for Chuck's services and enlisting Schultzy and Paul the Wolf as assistant blockers set to foil the bachelor photographer's latest conquest attempt.

One nagging question arises when watching Bob Traps a Wolf: why doesn't Bob just invite Cynthia over for dinner at his sister's house?  After all, Cynthia admits she's not much of a cook, and Bob could impress her with a nice, home-cooked meal and then drive his model back to her apartment for a nightcap.  It'd be a lot cheaper than taking her out to eat, and Margaret would certainly be placated: she'd enjoy the company and having her cooking eaten for a change.  In the process, Bob could also destroy any notion Cynthia has that he's a married man.  What's the downside?

Well, if you're an inveterate BOB viewer, you already know the answer--that would mean the possibility of the model getting chummy with Bob's sister--and subsequently becoming privy to his dating habits on other nights!  Man, staying foot loose and fancy free is so much work....

There was always a subtext of marital infidelity to LOVE THAT BOB: circumstances constantly forced Collins to hide his romantic escapades from Margaret, with the bachelor rarely able to take his dates to the home he shared with his sister and nephew.   Reinforcing this feeling, Bob often had to literally sneak out the back door (in the kitchen) to avoid "getting caught" by Margaret, who usually acted more like a wife than an older sister.  During prime time in the Eisenhower Era, this setup was as close as Henning and Cummings could get to a "philandering manual". Still, it was fascinating--sometimes amazing--to see just how far they could go within the boundaries of the era and medium.

In Bob Traps a Wolf, however, this subtext creeps closer to being text than ever before. Margaret all but masquerades as Bob's wife to Cynthia in person, and more blatantly does so over the phone.  As a result, she has Bob's latest target resisting his charms: Cynthia doesn't want to be a home wrecker.  With her trio of supporting players, Ms. MacDonald's act is very convincing--enough so that Bob's romantic intentions are (off-screen) violently foiled.  We only see the aftermath:

So Bob Collins carouses for 14 straight evenings (that we know of, anyway), tries to add another new conquest in front of us, glad-handingly tries to manipulate his friends and family, and ends up getting his much-deserved comeuppance in the form of romantic failure and having his throne usurped at home.  Right?  Wrong--not on ever-subversive LOVE THAT BOB!  The tables turn multiple times in Bob Traps a Wolf, but in the end, it's the real wolf--Bob--who has the trump card, courtesy of his private plane.  When the bluff is called, Margaret, Fonda and Schultzy walk away foiled while playboy Bob Collins wins again. 

Angie Dickinson as Cynthia

Twenty-five year old Angie Dickinson provides the vavavoom factor this time, making the first of two series appearances (1958's Bob and Automation is hilarious, btw).  Interestingly, she only appears in the opening scene at Collins' studio--we visit her apartment twice later, but we're kept outside the front door both times.   The same can't be said for Bob, and damned if we can't keep rooting for the stinker.  The edgiest character of the Fifties?  For sure, his batting average was higher than Bilko's--after all, this show wasn't titled YOU'LL NEVER GET LAID, now, was it?

WHO WAS BLOCKING?

In this segment, Hell, who wasn't?  Even the usually hero-worshipping Chuck was an obstacle by episode's end, albeit a paid one.

DID BOB SCORE?

As mentioned above, Bob re-enters Cynthia's apartment on the second try, singing "A Romantic Guy" (the rarely heard lyrics to the show's theme song) while closing the door on us.  I'd say his chances were well over 50% with the future Pepper Anderson at that point.

Bob lays it on a little too thick at times, and his antagonists fail to convince (Margaret and Paul don't even kiss when engaged, for example).  The minor flaws are far from fatal.  Bob Traps a Wolf is arguably the best installment of director Norman Tokar's brief run, giving us a structural surprise (complete with false ending) along with the then-novel twist of letting devilish Bob have the last laugh.  Some belly laughs pop out amidst the twists and turns, and Lyle Talbot's Fonda is always a proper foil.  Add in Angie Dickinson's presence as Bob's date of the week and a typically solid script from Henning, Gordon and Shuken, and this one is almost as big a winner as its protagonist.  (*** out of four)