Dramatic programs, usually aired in the evening and performed live, were often well written and expertly presented. Not only were the actors thoroughly schooled and rehearsed, but also the music and sound effects were professionally done. Many were the equivalent of a first-run Broadway play.
The attendant shouted, "Have your tickets ready." The usher greeted the First Nighter and showed him to his fourth-row-center seat. The First Nighter then gave a brief introduction to the play: title, cast, author. The orchestra played a few bars; the announcement: "Curtain" was made, and the play began. Commercials aired during the intermissions while the First Nighter mingled with the crowd. He described members of the audience, who were always formally dressed. After the final curtain, the First Nighter wove his way through the exiting crowd and into the street.
It was elaborate and it was all radio balderdash! While the setting was Manhattan the play was actually produced in the Merchandise Mart of Chicago and never got near New York! In later years the program moved to Hollywood when the star Barbara Ludy moved there.
This presented a problem for Woodman in that she was a Vassar graduate living in New York City and had never traveled west. After several trips to Death Valley and considerable research she produced one of the finest westerns ever aired. The program was low-key, emphasizing the loneliness of the west. It often featured stories about Lola Montez, Billy the Kid, and other actual figures.
In every show the Lone Ranger was a true knight of the range, a Western hero who quickly became a part of American folklore. He could fight against heavy odds, but take the time to mend an injured bird's wing.
The Lone Ranger believed that everyone should worship as he desires. He never made love on radio, television, movies, or cartoons. He always used proper English. He never smoked or swore, and he managed to stay out of saloons. If a scene originally called for a saloon, the script was rewritten to place it in a café. When he used his guns it was not to kill, but to aim as precisely as possible and shoot the pistol out of his enemy's hands. With his faithful Indian companion Tonto he dispatched "bad hombres" and brought peace to the untamed West.
The sound-effects person was key in developing the setting for each drama or comedy program. The images he created remained in the listener's mind throughout the program.
These inventive experts used various items to achieve the effects: rapping coconut shells produced horses' hoof beats; crumpling cellophane and dripping water into a pail sounded like rain; flexing a metal panel became thunder. Other methods included opening and closing doors, firing blank pistol cartridges, or using recorded sounds: careening automobiles, railroad trains, airplanes, chiming clocks, and farm animal noises. The sound man usually was equipped with an active microphone and a variety of objects needed to produce the needed sounds. For an an unusually complex production, a team of sound effects makers might be needed. Keeping track of all the objects was sometimes a problem..amusing goofs were not unknown. One classic tale concerns a misfire in a blank pistol. The quick thinking actor responded with "The gun doesn't work..how do you like this knife!?" After which the gun finally fired. Oh, well.
It all contributed to "the paint brush of imagination."
Each segment began with the tune "Juanita" played on a banjo and the announcer saying, "Time now for the romance of Helen Trent… the real-life drama of Helen Trent, who… when life mocks her, breaks her spirit, breaks her hopes, dashes her against the rocks of despair… fights back bravely, successfully to prove what so many women long to prove in their own lives… that just because a woman is 35, and more, that romance in life need not be over… that romance of youth can extend into middle life and beyond". All told, 27 suitors pursued her but to no avail. Some jilted her, some were jilted by her, some were murdered, had heart attacks, fell off cliffs, and others simply vanished. She was one unlucky woman. Throughout all of this she maintained her composure.
As far as the show was concerned she was a "benevolent dictator" and insisted on having control over the script and sound effects. Everything was authentic. The scene was generally set in the Goldbergs' kitchen. She broke real eggs into the skillet and each member of the cast rattled his or her own china. She even gave actress Roslyn Silber an on-air shampoo! Berg's ear for dialect was critically tuned for each reading.
The patriarch, Henry Barbour, was a stern white-collar worker when the series first aired in 1932. He had become a doting, fussing great-grandfather when the show ended in 1959.
Seldom in modern entertainment has the American public taken to its heart an entire fictional family in the same way that people embraced the Barbours. Its listener rating in 1939 to 1940 put it well into the top five shows in the nation, and it remained a solid favorite of over 15 million listeners for many years.
Each episode of the program began: "One Man's Family is dedicated to mothers and fathers of the younger generation and their bewildering offspring."
Starting in the-mid 1930s all networks broadcast live programs of popular dance music from ballrooms, restaurants, Army bases, and hotels. Musicians were less inhibited playing from remote sites, especially when they were fortified by the contents of a stainless steel hip flask. Networks generally sustained remotes (no commercials) and performances were not constrained by the three-minute time limit of recordings.
Every night of the week a listener could tune in to the likes of Benny Goodman, Glen Miller, Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra, Guy Lombardo, Wayne King, and many other fine dance bands. After WW II the big band era gave way to the vocalists who performed with their own bands.
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last updated: January 4, 2011 Original content: Copyright © 2000 - 2011 Museum of American Heritage Trademarks are the property of their owners |