Longtime followers of this blog have probably been wondering what's been keeping me. Why have I not written about Fritz Feld, the prolific character actor who was seen constantly in movies from the silent era until around 1989? Well, wait no longer…
Fritz Feld was born in Germany in 1900. He made his first film there in 1917 and by 1929 was in the U.S. motion picture industry being directed by the likes of Cecil B. DeMille. Mr. Feld was in hundreds of movies and TV shows but here are the names of a few films you may know: Bringing Up Baby, At the Circus (with the Marx Brothers), The Phantom of the Opera (1943 version), Call Me Madam, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Pocketful of Miracles, Barefoot in the Park, Hello, Dolly!, The Sunshine Boys, The World's Greatest Lover and Mel Brooks's History of the World, Part I. His Internet Movie Database listing has 205 movie and TV show appearances and I'll bet it's far from complete. He passed away in 1993.
Feld played all kinds of roles but is best remembered for portraying a maître d'hôtel, a head waiter, a hotel manager or a butler. He was so perfect for these parts that it is said no one had to tell the casting folks to book Fritz Feld for them. They'd just see that the script called for a prissy head waiter and they'd call Fritz. And of course, directors would insist that he perform his trademark POP!
I never learned how to do this even though I was coached by the man himself. He would shape his mouth into an "O" and then slap it with the fingers of his hand — and out would come this loud "POP" sound. It was how the head waiter would signal lesser waiters to snap to attention…or something. Whatever it was, it was Fritz Feld's signature.
He was so well known for it that it was a gag in the Mel Brooks film, Silent Movie. Brooks, Marty Feldman and Dom DeLuise walk into a night club and they are greeted by the maître d' (guess who) who does a little bit extorting a tip from them. He also does his "POP" — except that since this is a silent movie, there is an actual title card that just reads "POP!"
Every filmgoer over a certain age got the joke because they all recognized him. They may not have known his name but they all thought, "Oh, there's that guy who always plays the maître d' and goes 'POP!'"
When I was growing up in West Los Angeles, Mr. Feld lived somewhere near us. I never knew exactly where but when I was walking around the neighborhood, he was often walking around the neighborhood. Our home was located near the Twentieth-Century Fox Studio and a number of the houses near us were occupied by folks who worked at Fox or had. For instance, our next door neighbor, Betty Lynn, was an actress for all the studios in town but when she and her parents had moved to Los Angeles and bought their house, she was a contract player at Fox. Perhaps that is why Mr. Feld chose that area.
I'm not sure why but even when I was around eleven, I knew who he was. I knew him by name and when I spotted him in a movie or TV show, I'd feel like I'd found an Easter Egg or something. And of course, I knew and tried to emulate his "POP!" How could you not attempt it?
When I passed him on the street, I'd do it for him — badly. To this day, I can't do it. But he was always delighted to be recognized and he'd do it back to me — properly and with uncanny volume. Sometimes, we'd stop and he'd tutor me in the fine art of POP!ping. I'd always tell him something like, "I saw you on The Danny Thomas Show last week" and he'd be so pleased that he had a fan of my age. Once in a while as we stood and talked, people in passing cars would recognize him and wave and he'd "POP" to them.
These encounters all took place before around 1968. I didn't see him on the street after that and I wondered if it was just chance or if maybe he'd moved away. I still saw him in plenty of movies and TV shows, though.
Around 1982, I was working on the Sunset-Gower lot in Hollywood — a facility that was formerly Columbia Pictures and which seemed to not have been cleaned or upgraded much since Frank Capra made Mr. Smith Goes to Washington there. One day as I was walking from my car to my office, I passed a little man and — three steps later — realized it was Fritz Feld! I scurried after him, stopped him and explained to him that I was that little kid he used to always see in our mutual neighborhood. "And I still can't do this," I told him as I demonstrated my anemic, soundless POP!
He laughed and we talked a bit. He said, "After my wife and I moved out to Brentwood, whenever I went for a walk, I would think, 'Oh, I miss my young fan.'" I told him I was sure that plenty of other people recognized him.
He said, "Yes, but an unusual thing happened. I am married a very lovely women, an actress. For years, anytime we went anywhere, people would recognize me and ignore her. Then one day, she did this commercial…it was for coffee. And then they had her back to do another one and another one…"
(Quick Annotation: Mr. Feld was married to Virginia Christine, who from 1965 until 1986 was seen incessantly as "Mrs. Olson" in ads for Folger's Coffee.)
He went on: "At first, I did not realize the power of a commercial like that. But before long, everyone was recognizing her and no one was recognizing me. It did not bother me until one time a woman in a store gushed over Virginia and then the woman turned to me and asked, 'So, what do you do?' And you know what I told her? I told her proudly, 'Madam, I do this!'"
And he made his POP! sound and I laughed. What a lovely man.