by Justin Lloyd
In the skit, Lloyd has a wife named Ruth along with a son, Mistake. They live in a rural ramshackle house surrounded by a yard littered with scrap. The family is so poor they actually pretend to eat. Lloyd sits at a table, and Ruth brings him an empty plate. He takes his knife and fork and begins to cut into his imaginary steak after telling his wife he had been looking forward to eating lobster. Even when escaping into the momentary comfort of an imaginary world, poor ol’ Lloyd still ends up deprived.
Charlie Chaplin had explored the idea of starvation-induced lunacy nearly 60 years earlier in the silent film “The Gold Rush.” In it, Chaplin’s gold-prospector character becomes so hungry that he resorts to boiling his right shoe on the stove. After sitting down at the table to eat his leather entrée, he has to fight off fellow prospector Big Jim for what they both think is the most appetizing part.
Meanwhile, after getting his fill of make-believe steak, Lloyd’s foul mood returns. His son, Mistake, becomes the focus of Lloyd’s physical and verbal assaults. A full-grown man much larger than Jim portrays 8-year-old Mistake. Being far too big a boy for Lloyd to administer corporal punishment, Lloyd concludes that the best way to keep his son under control is to “work on him Psych-ah-logikly.” (One has to question, though, just how effective anyone who pretends to eat will be using psychology to influence someone else.)
After Mistake’s initial hesitation, Lloyd convinces him that it’s time for bed. Once Mistake is tucked in, Lloyd proceeds to read him a bedtime story from the Yellow Pages. Referring to it as “The big book,” Lloyd quotes entries as if it were the Bible.
He goes on to read to Mistake a supposedly prophetic bedtime story about the boy’s life that concludes with Mistake falling off the edge of the world and mashing his finger. Mistake gets the last laugh when he grabs a toy – a boulder-sized rock – from behind his bed and hurls it at Lloyd, smashing his father into the wall.
The show aired in the 80 or so markets across the country where Ernest ads were already popular. The Ernest clients in those markets benefited from the added exposure of their star salesman. Although the special was clearly a vehicle promoting Ernest, it also resembled something of a demo reel of characters that Jim hoped might catch the eye of a TV or movie producer.
In Nashville, Ernest’s home base, a special premiere was held at the Tennessee State Fairgrounds. Fans were treated to “fancy” appetizers such as crème-filled Pattycakes and Goo Goo Clusters served with milk and orange juice. Jim, dressed as Ernest, arrived, fittingly, on a Nashville metro bus.
Ernest was now moving into so many markets, it was inevitable that the story of the character’s success would reach the national scene. In 1984, two of the three major networks shined a spotlight on the advertising phenomenon. Dan Rather and the CBS Evening News covered the Ernest craze and did a follow-up story the following year. In the second piece were commercial clips, behind-the-scenes footage, interview segments with Jim and John Cherry, and a look at the variety of Ernest merchandise Jim’s popularity had spawned. One of the funniest moments was a clip of Ernest making an appearance at a Clemson football game when a male police officer rushed onto the field to kiss him on the cheek. The last commercial shown in the CBS story must have really gotten to Rather, who was watching the pre-recorded segment from his desk. Vern’s hands are seen opening a heart-shaped box of chocolates only to find Ernest’s face protruding out of the center. Ernest, alternating between looking at the camera and looking at his right toward some of the chocolates, says, “Be mine, Vern! Hand me that caramel!” As Rather returned on-camera, his eyes were watering and he confessed, laughing; “We lose it sometimes … we’re losing it now.”
On ABC’s “Good Morning America,” Jim enjoyed the rare opportunity to participate in a nationally aired live studio interview. Appearing as himself, dressed in a sweater with a dress-shirt collar exposed, Jim sat across from host Joan Lunden. Much of Jim’s warmth and charm came across, and he actually appeared slightly shy and somewhat reserved, as many comedians do when they’re not in character. But it may have had as much to do with Lunden’s movie-star looks as it did with Jim appearing live in front of a national audience.
In March 1985, Ernest finally landed on the third major network when Tom Brokaw covered the Ernest craze on the “NBC Nightly News.” The introduction to the segment showed Jim in full Shakespeare attire, reciting lines on an empty stage. That was followed with the story of Ernest’s rise to fame and continued popularity. The segment concluded by returning to Jim reciting Shakespeare. In what may be one of the funniest screen moments of Jim’s career, he turned to the camera after delivering a line from Hamlet and said, “Know what I mean Vern?” It was all Brokaw could do to keep a straight face as he said good night to viewers.
CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRET OF ERNEST’S SUCCESS
Jim always told interviewers that Charlie Chaplin was his biggest influence when it came to Ernest. Jim said once, “Physical comedy is a comedy that works in any language, and Chaplin knew that. His success was based on the fact that he never opened his mouth to get a laugh. I think people like physical comedy, which is why cartoons are so successful.” Another time Jim said, “I try to make (Ernest) clownish and I don’t want him too low-key, and he’s physically funny.”
Although they were eras apart, the two shared common traits. Both actors used their expressive faces to draw an audience in and evoke sympathy despite their mischievous ways. While Jim worked in the era of sound, like Chaplin he still used his face to give expressions like “Eeeeeewwww” a cartoonish look.
And like Chaplin, Jim was at his funniest when he didn’t speak (or barely did). In a courtroom scene of the movie “Ernest Goes to Jail,” Ernest, serving as a juror, tries to be as quiet as possible while dealing with a pen that explodes in his mouth. His attempts to use a piece of paper to soak up the ink only make things worse. He becomes so frantic about hiding the mess that he resorts to eating the ink-soaked paper. In another commercial, Ernest inspects a bag of potato chips as he feels all around, turning it on its side, looking more and more desperate as he examines it. At the very end, he realizes there are no chips left and cries, “All gone!” before smashing the empty bag into his face. Ernest is literally left holding the bag. John Cherry admitted later that Jim had come up with much of the bit on the spot, leaving the crew cracking up.
Even Chaplin’s relationship with Mack Sennett mirrored the one between Jim and John Cherry. Sennett, like Cherry, allowed his star to have quite a bit of creative input.
Before Chaplin came along, Sennett’s Keystone Film Company had introduced the world to the Keystone Cops, whose comic influence has been enormous. Movies like “Police Academy” and “Smokey and the Bandit” have carried on the Keystone formula through the years. Even the popular TV series “Dukes of Hazzard” features bumbling cops getting big laughs. The more arrogant the lawman, the more enjoyable for the audience to see him stumble. The same type of routine played out time and again in the Ernest commercials, where Ernest always pays a price for being so obnoxious to neighbor Vern.
Sennett’s rival, Hal Roach, brought Laurel and Hardy to the big screen. Roach’s slapstick masterpieces also shaped much of Jim’s appreciation of comedy in his formative years. Jim often mentioned both Sennett and Roach when discussing his influences.
Jim never felt playing the fool was beneath him. He took satisfaction in the fact that many actors would not be fearless enough to be so outrageous or look so silly. Any actor the least bit obsessed with his or her looks would not want to see themselves close up in a wide-angle lens. He also thought he was excelling in a type of acting that was more difficult than many assumed. In a 1987 television interview with WKBW out of Buffalo, N.Y., Jim said, “You can do a dramatic scene 14 different ways. If you don’t tell a joke the right way, if the punch line’s timing is off, it’s not funny.”
Because the character of the fool had been so significant in many of Shakespeare’s plays, Jim had a sense of pride carrying on t
he tradition … even if his fool was hawking ice cream on TV.
Jim often mentioned his Shakespeare background when discussing the discipline it instilled in his acting. It assisted him in memorizing the multiple scripts he was responsible for in a single shooting day. Ernest writer Glenn Petach said once, “Jim could look at a script for 10 minutes and have it memorized entirely.” Another Ernest writer, Coke Sams, was equally amazed. He remembered, “It could be WWKD, WWJR, and then WWM – he would switch call letters. He could focus so completely that he allowed a level of production none of us had ever seen before or since, actually.” Jim told the Daily Oklahoman in 1987, “I can learn scripts faster than anybody alive.” The skill proved valuable since cue cards were nearly impossible to use with Jim so close to the camera lens. Jim’s gift for memorization gave him the ability to use his focus on finding ways to make every commercial funnier.
Jim once offered a simplified explanation of the process of an Ernest commercial. It revealed how his brain had become hard-wired to the formula. “We’ve got just 30 seconds to do the pitch, set up the punch line and then punch it. Actually it takes 28.8 seconds. By now, I have a 30-second timer in my head.”
John Cherry was always complimentary of Jim’s portrayal of Ernest. Even before the success of any of the Ernest movies, he told an advertising magazine, “One of the reasons Jim is so good is because he gives you 100 percent.” He would even compare Jim to Chaplin by describing the way Jim used his facial expressions to draw in an audience. No matter how much praise was showered upon Cherry for his role in the character’s incarnation and success, he always said, “If there wasn’t a Jim Varney there wouldn’t be an Ernest at all.”
Although Chaplin provided Jim with much of his slapstick inspiration, some fans thought the Ernest T. Bass character from “The Andy Griffith Show” had provided the blueprint. Those fans may have been residents of North Carolina, home to both the fictional Mayberry and one of Ernest’s first clients, Pine State Dairies. Although both characters share the same name and reflect hillbilly stereotypes, Ernest T. Bass was definitely not the inspiration. As discussed earlier, Ernest was based on a man who had worked with Cherry’s father “… the most obnoxious person” Cherry had ever met.
Jim easily adapted to the persona of the overbearing, know-it-all good ol’ boy. Perhaps there was no better description of Ernest’s resume than one made by Jim to a newspaper in 1985: “He’s an inventor. He cross-breeds small appliances and power tools.” As far as Ernest’s last name was concerned, Cherry said he got it from a former State Treasurer of Tennessee. Cherry always thought that when someone said “Worrell” it sounded like they had marbles in their mouth.
Due to the limited budget in the beginning, it was decided that cameraman Jim May, reacting to Jim’s movements with a hand-held camera, would, in essence, play Vern. Writer Coke Sams recalled, “It was cheaper to throw a camera on some guy’s shoulder, and it made the commercials more active.” The arrangement became permanent as it was evident the camera movements also added a more intimate feel, while the wide-angle lens magnified Jim’s contorted facial expressions.
Jim May occasionally received assistance, combined with dazzling special effects. Cherry sometimes served as Vern’s voice, and writer Sams did everything from making mini pancakes rain down on Ernest’s head to kicking the ladder away from the roof in one of their most popular bits.
From the beginning, Cherry’s Nashville home served as command central. From piling film crews into bedrooms to utilizing sections of the roof where Jim could be pushed off a ladder, Cherry regularly sacrificed his residence to provide a low-cost, local-looking shoot.
The small production scale helped the film crew crank out multiple commercials a day. Cherry would have multiple sets prepared so the crew could immediately go to the next commercial. The whole thing was so efficient that filming 16 commercials a day became the norm.
Because of the physicality in so much of Ernest’s performances, injuries were always a danger. In one instance, Jim could have very well lost an eye. The commercial shows Ernest popping in on Vern while Vern plays darts. Ernest stands directly in front of Vern, who would not mind using Ernest’s nose for a bull’s eye. After a few lines during the filming, Jim and Sams got out of sync, and Sams threw a dart that whizzed within inches of Jim’s face. The crew in the room fell silent.
But Jim never backed away from doing everything he could to make each stunt as realistic as possible. The small sickly kid who never lived up to the athletic expectations of his father was actually so successful at physical comedy because of his athleticism. Coke Sams once said, “With all of the physical comedy, he was just ripped. He was one of those guys who was incredibly strong for his weight and size.” In the ever-popular window-slam bit, the small block that protected Jim’s fingers sometimes prevented the window from landing without the right amount of force. Jim occasionally removed the block and endured the pain for the sake of comedy. Luckily, he never suffered a major injury beyond a chipped tooth and occasional bumps and bruises.
The Ernest commercials never graduated to fancy sets or expensive effects. As Cherry once said, “You’re buying entertainment … not beautiful product shots.” The focus was always Jim’s performance. Beyond Jim’s magic and Cherry’s direction, it was the writers who provided the funny scripts and imaginative ideas that ended up winning countless awards. Cherry, one of the writers himself, was surrounded by an equally talented team for years: Coke Sams, Dan Butler, Glenn Petach, Steve Leasure and the late Gil Templeton. After displaying their talent for commercials, they went on to write for the Ernest character as he moved into TV and movies. They proved that writers in Nashville could pen more than country songs.
Much of the success of these projects was due to the collaboration between Cherry and Studio Productions (which later became Ruckus Film). Studio was founded in 1979 by Coke Sams, Jim May and Mary Matthews. Sams took over some of the writing duties while May focused on cinematography. Their long tenure with Ernest made them an instrumental part of the character’s success.
Yet ultimately, it was the relationship between Jim and John Cherry that was key to Ernest’s success. According to Sams, “Cherry would ask you to do anything, and Jim would try to do anything.” Sams believes that they were lucky to run into each other because each man was so essential to the other’s success.
Cherry was aware that a commercial would sometimes read funnier than what happened during filming. Other times the opposite happened: A small change could make an average script work much better. He wouldn’t try and push what was thought to be a funny premise if it just wasn’t working.
In addition, Cherry invited collaboration on the set – not only Jim and the writers but anyone willing to speak up. Jim said once, “Everybody on the crew, even a grip, feels free to contribute to the commercials. Anybody can come up with the payoff line.”
The brainstorming got Ernest into some of the most ridiculous situations imaginable, from carving a turkey with a chainsaw to hanging upside-down in a chimney dressed as Santa Claus. Jim said that there was even a “dumb scale” they had established from these sessions. One commercial known as “Bobbing for water,” where Ernest dunks his face into a large tub, was once at the top of the list.
As popular as Ernest was becoming, Cherry was aware that the commercials remained far from a “love at first sight” experience for numerous television viewers. In Ernest’s early years, Purity Dairies dealt with upset viewers after commercials aired showing Ernest taking a milk bath. Some customers threatened to boycott their products. One man who called complained, “A repulsive-looking man in a tub of milk is anything but appetizing.” Fortunately, Purity kept the ads going, and viewers soon warmed to Ernest’s antics. Similar scenarios played out many times over the years. Cherry continually assured clients that many of the same people who initially complained would later become some of Ernest’s biggest fans, and businesses would see sales climb. In the end, TV stations and clien
ts almost always ended up getting calls from the public asking when the commercials would air again.
Even though some viewers would never be won over by Ernest, a growing client list proved that the numbers were in Ernest’s favor. Cherry admitted of his creation, “Some people love him; some people hate him. Fortunately, more people love him.”
Cherry and Jim were asked repeatedly in interviews what their theories were for Ernest’s immense popularity and staying power. Cherry took the subject seriously. One aspect that Cherry mentioned in explaining why such an obnoxious character connected with people was the fact that he was vulnerable. This allowed Ernest, despite his obnoxiousness, to generate enough empathy to win over audiences. In the end, everyone could laugh and perhaps identify with him in some way. Jim always thought that Ernest was just like someone everybody probably knew, be it friend, family member, co-worker or neighbor.
In a 2009 appearance on “Inside the Actors Studio,” actor/comedian Ricky Gervais discussed some of these very same qualities as they related to comedy. Gervais said, “The most important thing in comedy is empathy.” He then continued, “Laurel and Hardy got it right 100 years ago, and it hasn’t been improved upon.”
Laurel and Hardy had been two of Jim’s favorite comedians as a child. And Jim’s expressive face and ability to connect with viewers helped bring about his own brand of empathy and, in one memorable Christmas commercial, a good amount of sympathy. The commercial, “Love Thy Neighbor,” aired in two parts within days of each other. The first showed Ernest being excluded from a Christmas party, with Vern shutting the front door in Ernest’s face. Many viewers called Carden & Cherry outraged that they would do something like that to poor ol’ Ernest during the holidays. They had no idea that the upcoming second part showed Ernest nailing Vern in the face with a snowball while yelling, “Happy New Year Vernon!” It was the upset reaction from viewers to Ernest being shut out that seemed to convince Cherry that Ernest was a sympathetic enough character to someday carry a feature-length film.