Red Skelton

by Wes Gehring

  However, in a seven-page longhand letter to “Little Red” (his nickname for second wife) dated March 28, 1945, Skelton states he has been in Naples, Italy, for six days.65 This lengthy letter covers a myriad of topics, beginning with a backbreaking performance schedule. The comedian had already done “41 shows in six 6 days, about 8 a day.” Still, he had been able to play tourist. With an assist from the armed forces brass giving him a navy driver and military police clearance to take pictures, the amateur shutterbug snapped shots throughout Naples and the surrounding area, including a visit to the ruins of Pompeii. The military section of Skelton’s 1945 scrapbook showcases many of his Naples pictures, revealing a good sense of composition.66

  While Skelton’s first two wives both took credit for getting him interested in painting, the letter to “Little Red” documented an already discerning critic. This was his comic take on the potential audience for the work of one Naples street artist: “a blind coal miner in Pittsburg[h].” (Maybe such mediocrity helped encourage his painting tendencies.) Ironically, given that this correspondence is to Skelton’s bride, he makes reference to some local prostitutes: “I saw a few Italian girls putting on more make-up [than] they had [in] all of Max Factor’s … they like to make people think they are younger.” Maybe his lapse is explained by a later letter admission, “I think the Booz[e] Has Hit Me.”

  A further letter paradox, given Skelton’s frequent entertaining at the White House, was Skelton’s belief that President Franklin D. Roosevelt and the Democrats had put one over on the public by masking Roosevelt’s poor health during the previous year’s (1944) election: “I just saw a picture of Roosevelt [and] he don’t [sic] look good. I wonder what the people would say if they knew how [Democratic National Committee Treasurer] Ed Pauley and [Democratic National Chairman Robert E.] Hannegegan took him [Roosevelt] out in the sun before the last election to make him look healthy … I got a feeling [Vice President Harry] Truman is going to be President of [the] U.S.” Roosevelt died two weeks later.

  Skelton’s letter to “Little Red” even had a touch of pathos near the close. Unbelievably, the comedian’s accommodations aboard the troopship, even after docking in Naples, were general quarters for enlisted men. He literally had no downtime. An inordinate number of GI shows was one thing, but when he tried to get some privacy, generally just for sleep, there were nonstop demands for autographs, solo and/or small group performances, and soldiers wanting to talk. Without ever stopping his advocacy for the rank and file, the comedian needed some rest.

  Luckily, one of the ship’s cooks came up with a brilliant solution—an extra pantry off the main galley was free, and Skelton had a secret hideaway: “This little closet I sleep in is sure nice; they can’t find me for autographs … I’d go on deck for some air but some bastard [officer] would rank [order] me into a show.” Here is a major movie and radio star, ever so thankful for a hole-in-the-wall hideaway. As an addendum to Skelton’s “bastard” reference, after the war the comedian was famous for the seemingly self-deprecating line, “Guess I’m the only celebrity who entered the Army as a buck private and came out the same way. I dood it.”67 But remaining a private was actually a point of honor for Skelton. During the course of his military career, officers had so overworked and under appreciated Skelton, the last thing he wanted was to join their ranks.

  The comedian’s nervous breakdown occurred shortly after reaching Italy, because he was already on a ship going home in April 1945. History has not recorded an exact date for the “crack-up,” but it must have been sometime between the March 28 letter, written six days after landing, and some disturbing diary-like notes Skelton penned on April 12—the day Roosevelt died. Skelton observed, in part: “They say it was a massive cerebral hemorrhage. He had that in February [at the Yalta Conference] when he and [British Prime Minister] Churchill gave China and other concessions in the Far East to [Soviet Union dictator Joseph] Stalin.”68

  Skelton’s ugly diatribe against Roosevelt continues along these lines. He seems to be parroting the faulty period views of the reactionary right. As historian Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. later wrote, “Some critics have written as if Roosevelt and Churchill had perpetrated a ‘betrayal’ at Yalta. They have contended that Poland, Rumania, and China were ‘sold down the river.’ A glance at the text of the Yalta agreement makes it hard to sustain such charges. Far from things having been made easy for Stalin at Yalta, he was obliged thereafter to break the pledges he made there in order to achieve his aggressive purposes.”69

  Be that as it may, while Skelton’s remarks seem overly harsh, especially for a former Roosevelt insider, they are still perfectly lucid. One might best explain them as an after effect of Skelton’s nervous breakdown. Or, the comedian’s darkly comic take on the president’s death could be called emblematic of the general depression the comedian was undoubtedly working through at the time. The breakdown can be seen as more a case of depression, brought on by a combination of stress and exhaustion, with an army doctor cutting the comedian some bureaucratic slack by providing a diagnosis that sent him home more quickly. (Stress and exhaustion hospitalized Skelton on several occasions in the postwar 1940s and early 1950s.)

  Skelton’s stateside recovery took place at Camp Picket in Blackstone, Virginia. In a series of recent interviews with the grandson, David Rulf, of a social worker, Jack Wolfe, on the comedian’s C-21 psychiatric ward, a darker picture emerges.70 The reason the comedian was brought to this closed ward was that he represented a possible suicide threat, having threatened to take a hidden stash of pills. After two days, no one believed Skelton was serious about suicide. Still, the pills needed to be found and confiscated. Wolfe was elected to befriend Skelton and find the drugs.

  Once the barbiturates were uncovered (hidden behind the lens of a camera), a real friendship developed between Wolf and Skelton. The young psychiatric social worker felt Skelton was more angry than depressed. The comedian believed the army was not fully utilizing him as an entertainer, while holding him to his other duties as a private. Yet the irony here was that Skelton had initially asked the army to assign him to regular duty, without special attention being given to his performer status. As in other situations, Skelton often said one thing, and expected others to guess what he really meant.

  As an outpatient, Skelton was able to socialize with Wolfe and his wife, Julie. Between dinners at the Wolfes’ home and a local hotel, the couple found being with the comedian a pure joy. They were, however, somewhat startled at how quickly he could shift into “entertainer mode” when in public. Skelton gave the couple one of his first oil paintings, a depiction of Blackstone, Virginia. The picture was signed: “To Jack and Julie. Best of luck to real people folks. May you always be happy and successful. You dood it, Red Skelton, nut ward 1945.”

  Skelton’s former spouse, Stillwell, and his second wife, Davis, made the news by traveling together from the West Coast to visit the comedian. One article subtitle proclaimed: “Red Skelton’s Bride and Ex Real Pals.”71 (One must add that such reports of their friendship were greatly exaggerated.) Shortly after their visit, patient Skelton again made the newspapers by helping two comedians (Buddy Baer and Ish Kabibble) entertain at the base. He had initially disrupted their act by pretending to be a disgruntled patient. Skelton had shouted from his ward bed, “I can’t stand it any longer!”72 Skelton had come full circle, back to his initial phrase for entertaining the troops, “laugh therapy.”

  Discharged from the army in September 1945 after a lengthy convalescence, Skelton spent a month at Davis’s parents’ ranch in Great Falls, Montana.73 (Davis had been responsible for bringing paints to Camp Picket to help in Skelton’s recovery, and the comedian continued his artwork in Montana.)

  Despite the December resumption of Skelton’s radio program to glowing reviews, 1945 had been relatively low-key for the returning veteran.74 But other pivotal people to the comedian turned up in the news and in his Stillwell-maintained scrapbook. During July the Chicago Times reported:
“Now actress Muriel Morris [the Skelton fiancée who had jilted him] changes her mind again … [only] this time, after marriage.”75 The article went on to document her brief three-month marriage to another Hollywood player, and sympathetically implied Skelton had been one of her victims.

  In October the New York Times did a feature article on an MGM director Skelton greatly admired, George Sidney, who had directed the comedian in Thousands Cheer and Bathing Beauty.76 Sidney also directed Skelton’s performance of “Guzzler’s Gin” for the Ziegfeld Follies (1946). Skelton never blamed Sidney for the decision to focus more on Williams in Bathing Beauty, feeling it was a decision of studio officials—a group he placed on the same low level as army officers. Skelton also enjoyed Sidney’s sense of humor, which was on display in the Times piece: “I came out here [Hollywood] weighing 160 [pounds] and now I weigh 280—so I must be a success.”77

  On November 25, shortly after Thanksgiving, Skelton’s writer/manager and former wife, Stillwell, married Oscar-winning director Frank Borzage. The union was an impromptu decision, to the point of the bride borrowing her mother’s wedding ring before a brief ceremony in Las Vegas.78 As noted earlier, Borzage had directed Skelton’s MGM screen test, as well as the comedian’s first picture for the studio, Flight Command (1940). The director had remained close to both Stillwell and Skelton since that time. This sophisticated Noel Cowardish lifestyle continued after the war, with both the Skeltons and Borzages living, for a time, in the same luxurious apartment complex (one of Stillwell’s investments for Skelton). Moreover, the couples also occasionally socialized together. But despite these appearances, the ongoing working relationship between Skelton and Stillwell put strains upon both new marriages.

  For the time being, the comedian busied himself with being one of America’s favorite clowns, with a silent-comedy legend sometimes providing a significant but shadowy influence.

  Chapter 8 Notes

  1. John R. Franchey, “Ex’s Can Be Friends,” Screenland (September 1943): 78.

  2. Leonard Maltin, The Great Movie Comedians: From Charlie Chaplin to Woody Allen (New York: Crown, 1978), 207.

  3. Theodore Strauss, Whistling in Dixie review, New York Times, December 31, 1942.

  4. “MGM ‘Whistling in Dixie’ Full of Audience Howls: Skelton Picks Up Note of First Hit,” Hollywood Reporter, November 4, 1942, p. 3.

  5. Whistling in Dixie review, Variety, October 28, 1942.

  6. Special Collection: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Legal Department Records, 1941–43, Margaret Herrick Library, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Beverly Hills, California (hereafter cited as MGM Legal Department Records); For ticket prices, see Cobbett Steinberg, Reel Facts: The Movie Book of Records (New York: Vintage Books, 1978), 368.

  7. MGM Legal Department Records.

  8. “Skelton Whistles Again—In Brooklyn,” Hollywood Reporter, August 27, 1942.

  9. Theodore Strauss, “A Hollywood Safari into Darkest Flatbush,” New York Times, April 11, 1943.

  10. Arthur Frank Wertheim, Radio Comedy (1979; reprint, New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 377.

  11. Thomas M. Pryor, Whistling in Brooklyn review, New York Times, March 24, 1944.

  12. This is based upon the author’s film memorabilia collection.

  13. Thomas M. Pryor, “By Way of Report,” New York Times, September 12, 1943.

  14. “The Quips Fall Where They May as Skelton and Durocher Meet,” New York Herald Tribune, March 19, 1944.

  15. Whistling in Brooklyn review, Variety, September 29, 1943.

  16. Neil Rau, “Red Skelton Comedy Corn, but Hilarious,” Los Angeles Examiner, December 3, 1943.

  17. MGM Legal Department Records.

  18. “Powell at Her Best to Dorsey Rhythms,” Hollywood Reporter, April 17, 1942.

  19. Rose Pelswick, “Present ‘Ship Ahoy’ at Capitol Theatre,” New York Journal American, June 26, 1942.

  20. Ship Ahoy review, Daily Variety, April 22, 1942.

  21. Archer Winsten, “‘Ship Ahoy’ Docks at Capitol Theatre,” New York Post, June 26, 1942; Ship Ahoy, review, Showman Trade Review, April 18, 1942.

  22. “Skelton Out of the Closet: Red Skelton’s Film Masterpiece Has Never Grossed a Dollar,” Baltimore Sun, October 12, 1941.

  23. Herbert Cohn, “‘Ship Ahoy’ at Capitol a Fast, Funny Show,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 26, 1942.

  24. Kate Cameron, “Abundance of Fun, Rhythm at Capitol,” New York Daily News, June 26, 1942.

  25. Jerry Gaghan, “‘Ship Ahoy’ Hit with Jitterbugs,” Hollywood Reporter, May 27, 1942.

  26. Lee Mortimer, “‘Ship Ahoy’ Is for Swingsters and Skelton Fans,” New York Daily Mirror, June 26, 1942.

  27. Robert Bianco, “Critic’s Corner,” USA Today, August 24, 2006.

  28. For example, see Harnet T. Kane’s “‘Maisie’ Picked as Public Favorite,” Hollywood Reporter, August 14, 1941.

  29. “Draws of Co-Stars Can Get Film By,” Hollywood Reporter, May 27, 1942.

  30. Edith Werner, “‘Maisie Gets Her Man’ at the Criterion,” New York Daily Mirror, July 16, 1942.

  31. Archer Winsten, “‘Panama Hattie’ Opens at the Capitol Theatre,” New York Post, October 2, 1942; Edgar Price, Panama Hattie review, Brooklyn Citizen, October 2, 1942.

  32. “Musical Ignores Plot to Score Hit,” Hollywood Reporter, July 22, 1942.

  33. Panama Hattie review, The New Yorker, October 3, 1942.

  34. Bosley Crowther, Panama Hattie review, New York Times, October 2, 1942.

  35. Price, Panama Hattie review.

  36. Panama Hattie review, Variety, July 22, 1942.

  37. Panama Hattie review, Newsweek, October 5, 1942.

  38. Crowther, Panama Hattie review.

  39. Edgar Price, Du Barry Was a Lady review, Brooklyn Citizen, October 7, 1943.

  40. Du Barry Was a Lady review, Variety, May 5, 1943.

  41. “Demure Du Barry,” Newsweek, June 28, 1943.

  42. John U. Sturdevant, “Skidding into History on a Mickey Finn,” New York Journal American, June 27, 1943.

  43. Du Barry Was a Lady review, Hollywood Reporter, May 5, 1943; Du Barry Was a Lady review, New York Times, August 20, 1943.

  44. Bathing Beauty review, New York Times, June 28, 1944.

  45. Leo Miskin, “Astor Film Good Hot Weather Fun,” New York Morning Telegraph, June 28, 1944.

  46. “‘Bathing Beauty’ at the Astor Just Right for the Warm Days,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 28, 1944.

  47. Steinberg, Reel Facts, 405.

  48. Lowell E. Redelings, “Red Skelton Highlights New Musical,” Hollywood Citizen News, July 28, 1944.

  49. Ibid.

  50. Otis L. Guernsey Jr., “‘Bathing Beauty’—Astor,” New York Herald Tribune, June 28, 1944.

  51. Alton Cook, Bathing Beauty review, New York World Telegram, June 27, 1944.

  52. Georgia Davis Skelton, “Do Comics Make Good Husbands?” Screenland (June 1952): 23.

  53. Ibid., 22.

  54. Red Skelton, “Glamour Will Get Me Nowhere,” Movieland (August 1952): 27.

  55. Ibid.

  56. Jack Holland, “The Army and Red Skelton,” undated and uncited source in Red Skelton Scrapbook Number 8, January to December 1945, Red Skelton Collection, Vincennes University, Vincennes, Indiana.

  57. “Everyone’s a Kid is Basis for Skelton’s Philosophy,” McGuire Banner, February 1, 1945, ibid.

  58. “GIs Perplexed Red Skelton Reveals,” Hollywood Press Times, May 13, 1945.

  59. Wes D. Gehring, Joe E. Brown: Film Comedian and Baseball Buffoon (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2006).

  60. Holland, “Army and Red Skelton.”

  61. Harrison Carroll, “Christmas Tree Fire in Star’s Home,” Los Angeles Herald Express, January 8, 1945.

  62. “Red Just Listens Now,” Vincennes Sun-Commercial, August 9, 1944.

  63. Harrison Carroll, “Red Skelton Sees Last Italy Drive,” Los Angeles Herald Express, May 8, 1945.

&n
bsp; 64. “Red Skelton Now in Overseas Area,” Los Angeles Herald Express, April 17, 1945; see also the service section of Skelton Scrapbook Number 8, January to December 1945, Skelton Collection, Vincennes University.

  65. Red Skelton World War II letter to Georgia Davis Skelton, March 28, 1945, Red Skelton Collection, Archives and Special Collections, Western Illinois University Library, Macomb, Illinois.

  66. Skelton Scrapbook Number 8, January to December 1945, Skelton Collection, Vincennes University.

  67. For example, see the article, “Red Skelton Out of Army; Learns ‘Lots of New Words,’” Portland Journal, September 30, 1945.

  68. Red Skelton’s comments on the occasion of President Franklin Roosevelt’s death, April 12, 1945, Skelton Collection, Archives and Special Collection, Western Illinois University Library.

  69. Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., “The World in Flames,” in The National Experience: A History of the United States, John M. Blum, ed. (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1968), 753.

  70. David Rulf, telephone interview with author, November 6, 11, 2007.

  71. Harrison Carroll, “Carroll,” Philadelphia News, June 16, 1945.

  72. Louella Parsons (syndicated), “Myrna Loy Signs Three Year, One Picture a Season, Contract with Studio [and Related Hollywood News],” Sacramento Bee, June 29, 1945.

  73. “Skelton in Hollywood after Army Discharge,” San Diego Union, September 29, 1945.

  74. For example, see Red Skelton [radio] Scrapbook review, Variety, December 12, 1945, 36.

  75. “More Than a Word,” Chicago Times, July 25, 1945, Skelton Scrapbook Number 8, January to December 1945, Skelton Collection, Vincennes University.

  76. Barbara Berch, “Directed Subtly by George Sidney,” New York Times, October 28, 1945, ibid.

  77. Ibid.

  78. Louella Parsons, “Edna Skelton, Borzage Wed,” Los Angeles Examiner, November 26, 1945, Skelton Collection, Vincennes University.

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