I wonder what others on the board think, pro or con, about the TV work of Ernie Kovacs. Some of my thoughts...(well, more of an essay than a forum post, but it's a holiday and I have time on my hands, so...)
Ernie was in many respects the first TV personality who instinctively understood television as a distinct medium. He realized quickly that this is not radio, not vaudeville, not film, not theater, but a unique medium with its own idiosyncrasies and possibilities. (Especially in the area of special effects and video manipulation, in which he was a pioneer.)
There are many reason why Kovacs' "humor" is an acquired taste. Scarcity is one. Because the eccentric nature of his humor went against the grain of more conventional fare, he never had a truly successful or long-lasting show. And not all of that even survives. Apart from a few amateur film clips and a kinnie or two, we have nothing of his early years of live, local television in Philadelphia. We have several of the shows he did at NBC in the 50's (with a live audience, which Ernie hated), a few episodes of his quirky game show Take a Good Look (which panelist Hans Conreid said was the most confusing game show he had ever seen), and thankfully, the videotaped half-hour specials he did for ABC in the early 60's just before his untimely death. (The last of these actually aired posthumously.) And much of what does survive gets short shrift; apart from the 1980's "Best of Ernie Kovacs" shows on PBS, and the brief time that Comedy Central had some airings of his shows in the 90's, his stuff has never been regularly seen on TV in the 40-plus years since his death. So, when you talk about Kovacs, many people have simply never seen his TV work, or just saw a few isolated bits and pieces.
Second, Ernie's style was not terribly digestible to a mass audience, especially back in the day. I'm always felt that Kovacs was more of an artist than a comedian or entertainer. Deep down inside, he didn't really care whether you "got" it or not -- he did what he found funny or interesting, and would try anything, experimenting with the technology of the day, that suited his fancy. I'll be the first to say that, as some of my friends have pointed out, many of his bits were not "funny" in a conventional LOL sense, but were very clever and creative. Many who knew Kovacs or admire his work believe that he was simply ahead of his time, and that his eclectic, surreal style and skewering of the accepted conventions of the medium would have been more palatable in later years. His later shows, with their quick blackouts gags, running jokes, and almost schizophrenic alternation between visual absurdities, physical slapstick, and more conventional set pieces, would be replicated in Laugh-In. (Indeed, George Schlatter, whose wife Jolene Brand worked with Ernie, admitted that he was influenced by Kovacs.) His devotion to surrealism, breaking the "fourth wall," non-sequiters, and sketches that didn't have conventional ends or beginnings, foreshadowed things like Monty Python's Flying Circus.
These are just a few examples of the type of thing that 1950's viewers simply did not understand in Kovacs' style:
-- Non-sequiter and surrealism: There was a sketch on one of Ernie's 1950's shows, a musical of sorts with an Arabian setting. It ends with a typically Broadway-ish chorus/dance thing (itself very out of place for the subject matter). Suddenly, for no reason, the cast is joined on stage in the number by several stereotypical and anachronistic figures (such as a basketball player, a 1920's newsboy, etc.) who never appeared in the sketch and have nothing whatsoever to do with what viewers had been watching for the last 8 minutes. I think Ernie delighted in moments like this that would elicit from viewers not a laugh, but rather a quizzical look and a muttered "What the....?"
-- The long expository set-up that culminates in the briefest of gags. A bit that opened one of the NBC shows was announced as an exhibition by a Russian grand master chess player who, it was said, had the ability to play 5 games simultaneously while blindfolded. On stage are five tables with chess sets, with the Russian's opponents seated thereby. Ernie spent what seemed like an eternity setting up the premise, introducing each player (all various national and ethnic stereotypes) at length, etc. Finally, the grand master appears on stage in his blindfold -- and in about two seconds does a blind pratfall into the first table, starting a domino chain reaction that upturns all the tables and scatters the chess boards and pieces across the stage. And there the bit ended with no further comment.
-- The obvious telegraphed gag. One bit had Ernie attending a voice recital. Our view is of Kovacs and the people seated nearby. The soprano (heard, but not seen) is horrible, with a screeching, grating voice. Ernie at first looks confused, then incredulous, and finally angry. He pulls out a long parcel he had carried into the audience with him, pulls out the parts of a rifle, and for the next few minutes proceeds to slowly and methodically assemble the gun, clean the barrel, test the sight, load, etc. (the guy sitting next to him even helps him at one point, as if it were perfectly normal for someone to be putting a rifle together in a recital hall), interspersed with various faces made in reaction to particularly sour notes. Yes, of course, he ultimately shoots the diva, and you KNEW for what seemed like forever that the sketch would end that way, but the obvious gag was not what was funny. (Ernie knew that just quickly taking a gun out and shooting her would have made for a very short bit, and would not have been as funny or interesting.)
People who were used to watching Milton Berle and Ed Wynn; people who expected comedians to do setup-punchline-setup-punchline; people who expected a sketch to make (at least on the surface) some logical sense, and to flow with a proper exposition and clear ending; well, these were typical 1950's viewers, and they simply could not fathom what Kovacs was trying to do.
Anyway....what do you guys think about Kovacs?
Ernie was in many respects the first TV personality who instinctively understood television as a distinct medium. He realized quickly that this is not radio, not vaudeville, not film, not theater, but a unique medium with its own idiosyncrasies and possibilities. (Especially in the area of special effects and video manipulation, in which he was a pioneer.)
There are many reason why Kovacs' "humor" is an acquired taste. Scarcity is one. Because the eccentric nature of his humor went against the grain of more conventional fare, he never had a truly successful or long-lasting show. And not all of that even survives. Apart from a few amateur film clips and a kinnie or two, we have nothing of his early years of live, local television in Philadelphia. We have several of the shows he did at NBC in the 50's (with a live audience, which Ernie hated), a few episodes of his quirky game show Take a Good Look (which panelist Hans Conreid said was the most confusing game show he had ever seen), and thankfully, the videotaped half-hour specials he did for ABC in the early 60's just before his untimely death. (The last of these actually aired posthumously.) And much of what does survive gets short shrift; apart from the 1980's "Best of Ernie Kovacs" shows on PBS, and the brief time that Comedy Central had some airings of his shows in the 90's, his stuff has never been regularly seen on TV in the 40-plus years since his death. So, when you talk about Kovacs, many people have simply never seen his TV work, or just saw a few isolated bits and pieces.
Second, Ernie's style was not terribly digestible to a mass audience, especially back in the day. I'm always felt that Kovacs was more of an artist than a comedian or entertainer. Deep down inside, he didn't really care whether you "got" it or not -- he did what he found funny or interesting, and would try anything, experimenting with the technology of the day, that suited his fancy. I'll be the first to say that, as some of my friends have pointed out, many of his bits were not "funny" in a conventional LOL sense, but were very clever and creative. Many who knew Kovacs or admire his work believe that he was simply ahead of his time, and that his eclectic, surreal style and skewering of the accepted conventions of the medium would have been more palatable in later years. His later shows, with their quick blackouts gags, running jokes, and almost schizophrenic alternation between visual absurdities, physical slapstick, and more conventional set pieces, would be replicated in Laugh-In. (Indeed, George Schlatter, whose wife Jolene Brand worked with Ernie, admitted that he was influenced by Kovacs.) His devotion to surrealism, breaking the "fourth wall," non-sequiters, and sketches that didn't have conventional ends or beginnings, foreshadowed things like Monty Python's Flying Circus.
These are just a few examples of the type of thing that 1950's viewers simply did not understand in Kovacs' style:
-- Non-sequiter and surrealism: There was a sketch on one of Ernie's 1950's shows, a musical of sorts with an Arabian setting. It ends with a typically Broadway-ish chorus/dance thing (itself very out of place for the subject matter). Suddenly, for no reason, the cast is joined on stage in the number by several stereotypical and anachronistic figures (such as a basketball player, a 1920's newsboy, etc.) who never appeared in the sketch and have nothing whatsoever to do with what viewers had been watching for the last 8 minutes. I think Ernie delighted in moments like this that would elicit from viewers not a laugh, but rather a quizzical look and a muttered "What the....?"
-- The long expository set-up that culminates in the briefest of gags. A bit that opened one of the NBC shows was announced as an exhibition by a Russian grand master chess player who, it was said, had the ability to play 5 games simultaneously while blindfolded. On stage are five tables with chess sets, with the Russian's opponents seated thereby. Ernie spent what seemed like an eternity setting up the premise, introducing each player (all various national and ethnic stereotypes) at length, etc. Finally, the grand master appears on stage in his blindfold -- and in about two seconds does a blind pratfall into the first table, starting a domino chain reaction that upturns all the tables and scatters the chess boards and pieces across the stage. And there the bit ended with no further comment.
-- The obvious telegraphed gag. One bit had Ernie attending a voice recital. Our view is of Kovacs and the people seated nearby. The soprano (heard, but not seen) is horrible, with a screeching, grating voice. Ernie at first looks confused, then incredulous, and finally angry. He pulls out a long parcel he had carried into the audience with him, pulls out the parts of a rifle, and for the next few minutes proceeds to slowly and methodically assemble the gun, clean the barrel, test the sight, load, etc. (the guy sitting next to him even helps him at one point, as if it were perfectly normal for someone to be putting a rifle together in a recital hall), interspersed with various faces made in reaction to particularly sour notes. Yes, of course, he ultimately shoots the diva, and you KNEW for what seemed like forever that the sketch would end that way, but the obvious gag was not what was funny. (Ernie knew that just quickly taking a gun out and shooting her would have made for a very short bit, and would not have been as funny or interesting.)
People who were used to watching Milton Berle and Ed Wynn; people who expected comedians to do setup-punchline-setup-punchline; people who expected a sketch to make (at least on the surface) some logical sense, and to flow with a proper exposition and clear ending; well, these were typical 1950's viewers, and they simply could not fathom what Kovacs was trying to do.
Anyway....what do you guys think about Kovacs?
). A bit too dusty and old-fashioned for me, all I can say is it's a shame Kovacs wasn't around in the 60's and 70's, after television officially "grew up". He would have probaly worked wonders!!
