Red Skelton came from a generation born to perform—because they had no choice. A child of Dickensian poverty in Indiana, by age seven he was singing for pennies on the street. At 10 he ran away and joined a medicine show. Vaudeville followed, and he attracted enough attention in New York theaters that Hollywood beckoned. By the 1940s he was a popular movie comedian but as the ‘50s began, he hitched his star to the rising medium of television.
“The Red Skelton Hour in Color: Deluxe Collection” is a 65-hour, 21-DVD collection that includes—despite its title—many episodes from the early years (starting in 1951) shot in black and white.
Color, however, was of little object in Skelton’s humor. In whichever format, he played his persona as an amiable goof and acted out a raft of characterizations familiar to audiences of the day. He could do clowns, bums, Brits—all in one episode. Some of his best moments seem accidental, improvised around mistakes. Skelton was self deprecating. “I’m back for the New Year and I’m just as surprised as you are,” he told his audience. He was a master of pantomime and funny voices. Much of his humor remains funny, but of course, many of the topical one-liners have disappeared into the forgetfulness of time and will be incomprehensible to contemporary audiences.
Bob Hope was a comedian of Skelton’s generation who also came up the hard way, if along a slightly different path. As an essay in the photo-packed booklet included in a new box set reminds us, Hope was born in Britain and passed through Ellis Island with his parents at age 5. He was a boxer as well as a Vaudevillian, but like Skelton, stage success led to Hollywood.
And he wasn’t adverse to television, either. Most of the 37-hour, 19-DVD set “Thanks for the Memories: The Bob Hope Specials Deluxe Collection” originally aired on network TV—broadcast with some regularity from 1956 through 1996 and often serving as retrospective “best-of” packages culled from the past.
His best work came early on before his signature look of utter dismay when confronted by the improbable had lost its sharp glint. In latter years he appeared uncomfortable, as if in failing health, and his longevity became a laughter-drawing one-liner in his repertoire.
As early as World War II, Hope made entertaining the troops his special mission. Four discs of “Thanks for the Memories” are devoted to his performances for the USO, Cold War through the Persian Gulf War. His shows inevitably included a gaggle of guest stars, John Wayne through Redd Foxx. One disc includes Hope’s celebrity roast at the hands of such longtime colleagues as Dean Martin, Don Rickles, Milton Berle and Jack Benny.
