by Wes Gehring
So where does their ongoing professional glue come from, following the disconnect of their private life together? Five years after the divorce, a Photoplay profile of Skelton’s radio producer/writer ex-wife provided this insight: “You’ll always find her sitting on the top step in the [radio] control booth where Red can check her reactions as the show goes along. [Skelton added,] ‘Edna’s my confidence. As long as I look up and see her I figure everything is all right. She’ll never lie to me or flatter me. And you have to have somebody you can believe!’”30
This same Photoplay article had the former couple still seeing themselves as the “Skeltons, Incorporated,” a caring professional “combine too strong for filmland to fathom or to break.”31 This “us against the world” philosophy had even been present when Stillwell made her court appearance to finalize the split. In a Los Angeles Times piece entitled, “Red Skelton Waits Outside Court as Wife Divorces Him,” the comedian explained his presence thus, “I just wanted to see that she got along all right.”32
In the same amiable spirit, Stillwell’s testimony regarding Skelton’s apparent infidelities was reframed along the lines of a comic story—consistent with her comedy writing profession: “Mr. Skelton reversed the usual order of behavior for men. Most men leave home early and come home late. He went out late and came in early.”33 When the judge asked if the comedian had ever explained these absences, the Times article noted an even more amusing comment: “‘Once he told me that he had been waiting at [the corner of] Sunset and Sepulveda for the signal to change.’ Even the judge smiled at that one.”
As sophisticatedly civil as their divorce and ongoing work relationship would be, Stillwell’s staying power went beyond Skelton’s need for her support and honest advice. There was a guilt factor tied to what she had meant to his career. The year before Stillwell filed for divorce, she saved one of Skelton’s elaborate “I’m sorry” notes. Below a detailed caricature of himself, he had written, “For Mummie [—] Each man is given God’s best wish for happiness. I like a fool belittled his gift to me. You. Love, Red.”34
Thus far the inherent parent-child factor in the relationship has simply been addressed comically (from the catalyst for “Junior,” to a motherly caretaker). But consider the psychological ramifications of man-child Skelton divorcing the surrogate mother represented by Stilwell. Even if she had not been so central to his ongoing success, it makes perfect psychological sense to keep her in the picture. A complete break might have been devastating. I am convinced that the nervous collapse he later suffered in the army was brought on, at least in part, by his separation from Stillwell.
Another component to Skelton’s man-child identity was being a romantic—writing love letters to each of his three wives. Between all Stillwell meant to him, and being spouse number one, her romantic pedestal seemed to soar highest. Chicago Sun columnist Sidney Skolsky wrote upon the 1941 release of Whistling in the Dark, “When you see the picture, notice Red Skelton in his love scenes with Ann Rutherford. He has his fingers crossed. Skelton said: ‘My Wife [Edna] is the only girl I love, and when I have to make [movie] love to anyone else I keep my fingers crossed.”35
That same year Family Circle magazine author Kitty Callahan chronicled Skelton’s touching anniversary note and gift to Stillwell. When the couple married, Skelton had been so poor he had to borrow two dollars from his bride for a license. Skelton’s anniversary card said, “Here’s the two bucks for the license and a little memento [a new car] of the greatest day in my life.”36 What makes these article insights all the more poignant is that Stillwell saved them in the scrapbooks she maintained for Skelton. Consequently, one does not have to be a psychiatrist to understand how a total break from such a celebrated love might have been more than Skelton could have handled at that time. (Decades later, after Stillwell had long been out of his life in even a professional capacity, he coped by not coping at all—her existence was all but denied. And woe to any innocent interviewer who made the mistake of bringing up her presence and/or influence.)
Given the sad nature of any marital split where the two partners were once so intertwined, friends and colleagues were initially in denial. This phenomenon was often encouraged by Skelton’s actions. Syndicated movieland gossip columnist Louella Parsons reported on the couple performing for servicemen at the Hollywood Canteen, shortly after Stillwell filed for divorce. She noted Skelton’s opening comments, “Now, boys, I would like you to meet my wife. She writes all my stuff and is my severest critic.”37 To this Parsons added her own personal plea, “I hope Red and Edna are back together, for two people who get along so well should never have been separated.”38
Along similar mixed messages from Skelton, the comedian acted as an emcee for a Hollywood charity baseball game between leading men and comics shortly after the Parsons piece appeared. Like a time-tripping return to his walkathon days, Skelton was constantly “on,” involving himself in nearly every comic diamond development. In the midst of all the craziness he yelled, “Is my [writer] wife in the audience? I’m running out of material.”39 This appeared in a Movieland magazine article with the provocative title, “Why the Skeltons Parted,” yet paradoxically, the piece noted more reasons (such as the aforementioned Skelton quote) why the two should stay together. (The Skeltons’ performances of their old vaudeville routines were so popular at army camp shows that the soldiers’ request for a joint picture of the duo was still being honored by March 1943.)40
Thus far the focus has been on Skelton’s need to have Stillwell be a continuing presence in his life. What of her needs, especially after the humiliation of her husband’s apparent indiscretions? Earlier in the book I suggested that while the Skeltons both were driven to put Red on top, this was even more her mission. Everything about their divorce and ongoing professional partnership further reinforced this perspective. Indeed, according to Stillwell’s own courtroom testimony, though she made light of Skelton’s carousing, she made it clear “she remained at home pecking away at the typewriter in pursuit of her duties as his business manager and official gag writer.”41
To Skelton’s credit, he had given Stillwell the chance to artistically shine when her best other Great Depression-era opportunity was to be a mortician’s assistant for her uncle. Moreover, though Skelton was the star to the general public, within the entertainment community his ex-wife was a luminary nearly on par with the comedian. So why should Stillwell sacrifice this power and prestige to some little sexy starlet that had caught Skelton’s eye?
The wannabe actress in question was Muriel Morris, also under contract to MGM. The leggy, beautiful blonde had had small unbilled parts in several of Skelton’s films. Given the comedian’s interest and pride in all things Hoosier, the fact that Morris’s family was, like Skelton’s, from southern Indiana (Evansville), probably assisted the relationship. In a more macabre coincidence, given Stillwell’s mortician connection, Morris’s late father was a casket manufacturer! After that era’s one-year waiting period before a divorce became final, the comedian and Morris planned an April 1944 wedding.42 Morris, however, underestimated Skelton’s ongoing ties to his first wife.
In a Los Angeles Times article titled “Red Skelton Practically Left Waiting at Altar,” the comedian confessed, “What a jolt. I was never so surprised in all my life.”43 Yet, was it really that big a surprise? The day after the Los Angeles Times piece appeared, a Los Angeles Examiner article revealed, “To Hollywood circles, the answer to the problem [broken-off wedding] seemed to be the dictum laid down by Miss Morris before she called off her proposed marriage to the comedian. ‘Choose between your ex-wife and me!’”44 A modest self-deprecating Skelton said, “I’m sort of a [comic] Frankenstein created by other people [like my first wife], and Muriel—who is really wonderful—and some others find it hard to understand things which are absolutely necessary in show business.”45 The same Examiner article also had Stillwell comically underlining the professional nature of her ties with ex-husband Skelton, “All I’m suppos
ed to do is handle business; and I mean business.”
Although both Skelton and Stillwell eventually married others, the “Skelton Incorporated” pact that they maintained for years after their divorce was a mixed bag—a rousing success professionally, but a stressful distraction for each of their subsequent marriages. Preceding these new unions came a series of very popular wartime Skelton pictures.
Chapter 7 Notes
1. “Moves to Divorce Red Skelton,” New York Times, December 30, 1942.
2. Edna and Red Skelton, letter to Inez and Clarence Stout, February 27, 1939, Clarence Stout Papers, Lewis Historical Library, Vincennes University, Vincennes, Indiana.
3. Arthur Marx, Red Skelton (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1979), 89–90.
4. Jordan R. Young, The Laugh Crafters: Comedy Writing in Radio and TV’s Golden Age (Beverly Hills, CA: Post Times Publishing, 1999), 263.
5. Edna Stillwell Skelton (as told to James Reid), “I Married a Screwball,” Silver Screen (June 1942): 63.
6. Ibid.
7. Vivian Cosby, “Edna Skelton’s Lasting Loyalty,” American Weekly, November 13, 1949, 4.
8. William T. Vollman, “The Constructive Nihilist,” New York Times, August 14, 2005.
9. “Red Skelton,” Variety, October 15, 1941.
10. Ozzie Nelson, Ozzie (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1993), 166.
11. Ibid., 164.
12. Harrison B. Summers, ed., A Thirty-Year History of Programs Carried on National Radio Networks in the United States, 1926–1956 (New York: Arno Press, 1971), 37.
13. Paul Cooley, interview with author, September 21, 2000, Muncie, Indiana.
14. “New Acts: Red Skelton,” Variety, June 16, 1937.
15. John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio (New York: Oxford Press, 1998), 59.
16. “Doolittle Dood It,” Los Angeles Herald Express, May 19, 1942.
17. “‘Red’ and the Famous Headline” (picture), Los Angeles Herald Express, May 21, 1942, in “Red Skelton Scrapbook Number 2, 1931–42, Red Skelton Collection, Vincennes University, Vincennes, Indiana.
18. “4 Days of Storm Vex Los Angeles,” New York Times, February 23, 1944.
19. Wesley Hyatt, A Critical History of Television’s “The Red Skelton Show,” 1951–1971 (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2004), 12.
20. Skelton, “I Married a Screwball,” 61.
21. Verna Felton, “Love That Red-Head,” Radio Mirror, January 1948, 46.
22. Arthur Frank Wertheim, Radio Comedy (1979; reprint, New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 377.
23. John Whitehead, “Red Skelton as the ‘Little Brat,’” Radio Life, April 12, 1942, p. 3.
24. John R. Franchey, “Ex’s Can Be Friends,” Screenland (September 1943): 31.
25. See the September 1943 section, Red Skelton Scrapbook Number 3, 1942–43, Skelton Collection.
26. Franchey, “Ex’s Can Be Friends,” 78.
27. “Radio Warm-Ups #3,” Radio Life (August 29, 1948): 34.
28. Betty Baytos, “Interview with Red Skelton,” Dance Collection Oral History, New York Public Library at Lincoln Center, February 20, 1996, p. 70.
29. Franchey, “Ex’s Can Be Friends,” 78.
30. Maxine Arnold, “Clown in Civies,” Photoplay (February 1948): 89.
31. Ibid.
32. “Red Skelton Waits Outside Court as Wife Divorces Him,” Los Angeles Times, February 12, 1943.
33. Ibid.
34. For Skelton caricature and note to Edna, see the August 1941 section, Red Skelton Scrapbook Number 2, 1931–42, Skelton Collection.
35. Sidney Skolsky, “The Gospel Truth,” Chicago Sun, [1941], in Red Skelton Scrapbook Number 2, 1931–42, Skelton Collection.
36. Kitty Callahan, “Redheaded Comet,” Family Circle, July 31 [1941], ibid.
37. Louella Parsons, “‘Rationing,’ MGM Comedy,” Los Angeles Examiner, January 15, 1943.
38. Ibid.
39. Jennifer Adams, “Why the Skeltons Parted,” Movieland (March 1943): 64.
40. Ibid.
41. “Red Skelton Waits Outside Court as Wife Divorces Him.”
42. “Red Skelton to Marry,” New York Times, April 7, 1944.
43. “Red Skelton Practically Left Waiting at Altar,” Los Angeles Times, April 11, 1944.
44. “Red Skelton Tangle Grows,” Los Angeles Examiner, April 12, 1944.
45. Ibid.
8
War Year Complexities: Movies, Military, and Marriage
“We’re both quick-tempered but quick to forget. It’s different now [since our divorce]. If we argue, I can leave and go home or he can say so-long and shut the door.”1
Edna Stillwell Skelton, 1943
Because radio did not necessitate that the star memorize a script, have costume changes, and be aware of camera blocking (where to stand and look), there was much less preparation time for each program—as opposed to the later overwhelming demands of television. This gave airway performers the chance to balance a film career with radio. So while Red Skelton was becoming one of the most popular 1940s figures of the “crystal set society,” he was moving towards a comparable status in cinema. And Hollywood production had never been in a greater boom period than during America’s involvement in World War II. In fact, box-office numbers were so great that the increased production and extended theatrical runs meant movies were stacked up for extended times. To illustrate, MGM’s Ziegfeld Follies, in which Skelton contributed his classic “Guzzler’s Gin” sketch, was shot in 1944 but not released until 1946.
MGM, as the most powerful and prestigious of Hollywood’s studios, had a very ambitious slate of movies in production. Unfortunately, this was not necessarily a good thing for the individual comedy artist. Indeed, as addressed in the previous chapter, MGM’s control-conscious, overproduced tendencies were not favorable for personality comedians. Film historian Leonard Maltin went so far as to suggest MGM “offered everything money could buy except respect for individual comic genius.”2 Thus, even after Skelton’s star-making turn in Whistling in the Dark (1941), he was under-utilized or misused in such war year pictures as Maisie Gets Her Man (1942), Panama Hattie (1942), Du Barry Was a Lady (1943), Thousands Cheer (1943), and Bathing Beauty (1944). Before addressing these still often entertaining Skelton misfires, Skelton’s most comedian friendly outings during the war deserve prime attention.
Fittingly, given the significance of Whistling, Skelton is best showcased during this period with that movie’s two sequels: Whistling in Dixie (1942) and Whistling in Brooklyn (1944). The Whistling follow-ups put Skelton’s character, radio sleuth expert, Wally “The Fox” Benton, in new settings—down South and the wacky world of Brooklyn. In addition, both sequels built upon two key components that drove the original picture. First, Skelton’s Benton is in the dual persona popularized by Bob Hope in The Cat and the Canary (1939) and The Ghost Breakers (1940). Second, this personality comedy can also be pigeonholed as a film parody of the mystery thriller genre. Both components complement each other, since nothing acts as a better comic catalyst for a fear factor than scary situations. Skelton was not alone in building upon the split Hope persona in a scary setting. Simultaneous to Skelton’s seminal Whistling in the Dark, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello released Hold That Ghost (1941).
Whistling in Dixie involves investigating a spooky old Southern mansion and an equally creepy Confederate fort, where a flooded dungeon almost becomes the comic’s crypt. These are hardly the backdrops Benton had in mind when he requested two weeks off from his popular murder mystery program. Skelton’s radio character is so stressed out that the mere mention of murder sends him into a comic meltdown similar to the rubber-faced contortions synonymous with his “Guzzler’s Gin” routine. The New York Times’ review embellished the phenomenon further: “As he is faced by danger, his knees clatter, speech becomes difficult, and his eyes show a pronounced tendency to cross.”3
Skelton’s original getaway game plan had him honeym
ooning with his radio companion (Ann Rutherford). But their marriage is put on hold when her sorority sister friend (Diana Lewis) requests their assistance on some strange developments in Dixie. The story that unfolds is entirely mounted as a Skelton vehicle, although he receives excellent comedy support from his vaudeville friend “Rags” Ragland. Ragland frequently costarred with Skelton at MGM during the early 1940s, including the first Whistling picture. In Dixie Rags plays twins, a gangster gone straight and a fugitive killer. As the reformed former figure, Ragland effectively mixes slapstick and silliness, such as his comic reply to Skelton’s question, “What are you, a moron?” “Yes, and we’re organized.”
“Rags” Ragland (right) tells Skelton and Ann Rutherford that Guy Kibbee is overtired from lifting mint juleps in a scene from Whistling in Dixie (1942).
Like most popular culture comedies, Dixie is also a compendium of current events played for laughs. These range from finding yet another way to incorporate Skelton’s then trademark line from radio, “I Dood It,” into the plotline, to including a gag reference to the previous year’s monster hit, Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941). “I Dood It” becomes the punchline for a thrill comedy scene set at the Confederate fort. Skelton’s character discards a lit cigarette that burns a guillotine-like trip rope and our hero almost loses his head.
Jordan, later remade as Heaven Can Wait (1978), is a fantasy comedy about a good-natured athlete “spirited” off to the next realm ahead of schedule. Until an earthy replacement body can be found, said athlete must get by in phantom form. Earlier in 1942, the release year of Dixie, Hope had included a running gag about Jordan in the Road to Morocco, with the comedian doubling as another “spirited” character himself. Though Skelton’s Jordan reference in Dixie is more modest, it was no less funny. When Skelton’s character runs into a door he wisecracks, “I thought I was Mr. Jordan.”