“Oh Carol…you got me eatin' my heart away…”

[TMC]

http://thrillingdaysofyesteryear.blo...eart-away.html

From 1959 to 1962, comedienne Carol Burnett was a supporting cast member of CBS-TV’s popular The Garry Moore Show—a gig that netted her the first of what would eventually result in a buttload of Emmy awards (I believe the total is six). She left that variety hour to pursue other projects, but the Tiffany network was most anxious to continue their association with their second favorite redhead, particularly after she scored a second Emmy trophy for the 1962 special Julie (Andrews) and Carol at Carnegie Hall. The network inked a ten-year-deal with Carol, obligating her to do two guest appearances and one television special a year.

There was also a clause in the contract that Burnett describes in retrospect as a “push the button” option. After five years, if Carol wanted to do a variety show of her own, CBS would be obligated to put the program on the air for a guaranteed season of thirty episodes—even if it only consisted of the performer simply scratching herself for sixty minutes. The Powers That Be (represented by Mike Dann, head of CBS) tried to wave Burnett off this, chauvinistically explaining that the variety hour was “a man’s genre.” Despite the support for this theory (most of TV’s top variety shows were headlined by males such as Jackie Gleason, Red Skelton…and Carol’s old boss, Garry Moore) Carol and husband Joe Hamilton were determined to take advantage of the clause (particularly since the alternative was for Burnett to star in a expectedly lame sitcom titled Here’s Agnes). Nothing brightens the mood more of a die-hard couch potato when The Suits turn out to be wrong…because the result of Carol and Joe’s efforts would run for eleven seasons and become one of CBS’ most successful variety series: The Carol Burnett Show.

It would be a major understatement to say that Carol Burnett’s long-running variety hour set a high bar for programs of its type. It’s due in large part to the lady herself; I know it’s a bit of a cliché to use words like “comedic legend” and “genius” when discussing Burnett’s boob tube legacy…but there’s a reason why The Carol Burnett Show turns up on so many “Greatest Shows of All Time” lists—it was damn good television, and Burnett was just aces. When I think of Burnett, I think of the word “fearless”; I know of very few performers who would throw caution to the winds and not care about how they looked if the rewards for being goofy resulted in loud, appreciative laughter. There is a magic quality about Carol Burnett: she comes across as gangly and gawky one minute and movie-star glamorous the next. But there’s also a genuine, down-to-earth warmth about the woman, which clearly came across in every portion of her show from her opening give-and-take with the audience to the unpretentious and often endearing sketches on the program.

I find that a lot of people enjoy the program despite its occasional lapses into corniness because much of it was steeped in a “classic Hollywood” tradition, from its high-wattage guest stars (Betty Grable, Lana Turner, Mickey Rooney) to the frequent parodies of old films (Gone with the Wind, Sunset Boulevard). During my halcyon high school years, the Burnett show was a Saturday night tradition (it’s funny how I associate the show with Saturday nights, when during most of its run it was seen on Mondays and then Wednesdays) as well as a weekday attraction thanks to the syndicated Carol Burnett and Friends, a half-hour compilation of comedy sketches that aired on the primetime hour from 1972 to 1977. (MeTV recently added Burnett and Friends to their lineup…which we are not able to watch here at Rancho Yesteryear because Dish refuses to carry the substations of our local channels, boo hiss.)