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June 18, 2009
Leonard Maltin on Wicked Wit: "If you love vintage show business, this book is a must-read!"
Leonard Maltin has reviewed Wicked Wit of the West on LeonardMaltin.com:Virtually the last man standing from the era of vaudeville, radio comedy, and the Marx Brothers' heyday, the screenwriter of Meet Me in St. Louis, and the creator of The Life of Riley, Irving Brecher had a long, amazing career, but he never gave serious thought to writing an autobiography. Then an ardent admirer named Hank Rosenfeld insinuated himself into the nonagenarian's life, becoming a friend and confidant and wisely taking a tape recorder along every time he spoke to Brecher or accompanied him to an event. The result is an unconventional but entertaining book, full of great stories, wonderful show business memories, rants and salty opinions. (Told by Rosenfeld that I don't credit writers in my Movie Guide--which is not entirely true--Brecher hurls a profanity in my direction.) It also offers a bittersweet portrait of old age, although Brecher refuses to surrender to sentiment. In one of their last conversations, Rosenfeld asks the 94-year-old what he would like as an epitaph. He replies, "Here lies Irv Brecher, who doesn't recommend it."Brecher sold his first jokes to young, up-and-coming vaudevillian Milton Berle in the early 1930s, never dreaming that he could make a living as a writer. By the end of that decade he was under contract to MGM, where he crafted the scripts for two Marx Brothers movies, At the Circus and Go West, and formed a close, long-term friendship with Groucho. One of the joys of this book is its illustrations; there aren't many but what's there is cherce. Script pages from the Marx Brothers films show how Groucho's dialogue was written and revised. Pictures bear witness to Brecher's claim that he stood in at a hurried photo session for a stage tour of Go West--only to discover that his picture, in Groucho makeup, was reprinted for years to come as if it were the real Julius Marx. Another anecdote involving the writer and Jack Benny pulling a practical joke on director Mervyn LeRoy might seem like a tall tale if there weren't photographic evidence to back it up.
If you love vintage show business, this book is a must-read. Prepare yourself for conversational detours, trips to the local deli, and a lot of anger over George W. Bush. And be ready to appreciate a man who never got the attention he deserved. (Irving Brecher died just as this book was going to press, late last year. He couldn't have asked for a better testament to a life well lived.)
Posted by yudel at 9:49 PM
June 4, 2009
Wicked Wit "Like 'Tuesday with Morrie' only with laughs" -Santa Monica Daily Press
Jack Neworth reviews The Wicked Wit of the West for the Santa Monica Daily Press
To historians of American comedy, the name Irving Brecher, ought to be included among the legends. At 24 Brecher was the only writer to get sole credit on Marx Brothers' films, "At the Circus" (1939) and "Go West" (1940.) He also worked on "The Wizard of Oz," created,"The Life of Riley" as a radio show, wrote and directed it as a movie and then as the first television sitcom (Starring a young, and relatively slim, Jackie Gleason).Brecher's remarkable life is chronicled in this hilarious memoir, "The Wicked Wit of the West" (as Groucho dubbed him) as told to L.A. Times folk-journalist, and Santa Monica resident, Hank Rosenfeld.
Drawing on his early days of writing for Vaudeville and radio, the book is brimming with Irv's juicy tales about Hollywood icons, including Benny, Berle, Gleason, Burns, and of course, the Marx Brothers. It's the product of seven years of Rosenfeld's tagging along with Irv, splitting pastrami sandwiches, and recording Irv's every word of rapid-fire banter and acid wit.
Like "Tuesday with Morrie" only with laughs, the beauty of this book is the deep friendship that develops between Rosenfeld and the oft-crotchety Brecher. It began in 2001, when Turner Classic Movie channel interviewed Golden Age Hollywood participants. "I'm afraid I'm the last living MGM writer," Irv said. "And frankly I just hope I get through this interview."
In attendance, Rosenfeld was struck how much Irv sounded like Groucho, "That distinctively edgy launching of an expertly aimed zinger." Suddenly there was a beeping sound. "Unless there's a canary in here, my hearing aid just died."
"How long do those batteries last," asked the interviewer. "About two weeks," Irv replied. "Longer if you don't do any listening."
Brecher didn't want to be part of a typical, self-absorbed Hollywood biography. He agreed to do the book on one condition, "That I don't have to read it." Hank insisted on using a tape recorder to "get everything accurately." Irv quipped, "You're going to have trouble being a journalist if you insist on being accurate."
The book begins in 1931 in New York city. Irv was 17 and a ticket-take/usher at his cousin's movie house on 57th Street. He worked six, 10 hour days for $18 a week and was glad to have it as he was the only support of his parents and siblings in Depression-era Bronx.
In his spare time, Irv would occasionally send newspaper columnists Walter Winchell and Ed Sullivan topical gags and one-liners for the pure joy of seeing his name in papers with circulation of over one million. He never for a moment dreamed it would eventually lead to a career in glamorous, far-off Hollywood.
One day a reviewer for Variety, Wolf Kaufman, came into the theatre. He had recognized one of Irv's jokes in a Vaudeville act of Bob Hope! He convinced Irv to run an ad in Variety advertising his joke-writing talents. Irv didn't have the $15 for the ad, as it was almost a week's salary. Kaufman arranged for Irv to temporarily owe Variety, a publication he would wind up subscribing to for the next 70 years!
One of those responding to the Variety ad was a brash, young Vaudeville comedian named Milton Berle who was notorious for stealing other comics' material. (The chapter on Berle is entitled, "The Thief of Bad Gags."). After reviewing pages of Irv's jokes, Berle paid him the princely sum of $50. Soon Irv would quit his usher's job and would forever jokingly blame Hope and Berle for his life in show business.
Among the great Groucho stories details his and Irv's vacation at a hotel in the south that didn't accept Jews. Groucho sat on his suitcase and accused the hotel of being one in a chain of brothels. "Is it true that you're your brothel's keeper?" he asked the perplexed hotel manager.
In a scene from "Go West," a western, Groucho's knocked down a flight of stairs in a saloon by the villain. Harpo and Chico rush over to give him water. "Forget the water," Groucho says, "force brandy down my throat." That line became famous in bars all across the country. Pretty heady stuff for the 24-year-old screenwriter who wrote it.
"The Wicked Wit of the West" is a funny, charming, and ultimately touching, reminiscence. For those over 60, it may bring back fond memories of radio and early television. For those under, it represents an essential piece of American comedy history.
Irv's glaucoma made it impossible to review the book's galleys. He hired an actor to read it to him over four days. Shortly thereafter he passed away but even on his deathbed, he was cracking one-liners. Irv missed the publication but he had "read" the book, something he joked he'd never do. I'm definitely glad that I did.
Posted by yudel at 1:18 PM | Comments (0)