That's Lennie Weinrib on the left, playing insult comic Jackie Brew-Brew in an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. You remember that one. In this shot, he's asking Mel Cooley (Richard Deacon), "Do you pluck your scalp?"
It was a remarkable performance, all the more so because the show filmed at 7:00 on a Friday evening and Lennie was hired at 2:00 that afternoon. The role of the insult comic was written for (and rehearsed all week by) Shecky Greene who somehow ran afoul of the law and had to go off with some nice policemen. Suddenly, producer Carl Reiner found himself without the guest star in the episode they were filming that evening — a nice cause for panic — but he knew what to do: Call Lennie. And Lennie came in, learned the role and played it to perfection. He did a couple of other episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show, as well…and of just about every situation comedy that was on the air in the sixties.
Lennie was an actor, a writer, a producer, a director and — most lucratively — a voiceover specialist. He originally came to prominence working with Spike Jones and later in the Billy Barnes revues that launched many a career in the early sixties. There was a time there when everyone wanted to hire him for everything but especially voiceover work. In fact, he made so much money doing commercials and cartoons that he neglected all his other skills…to his occasional regret. One of the last times he was seen on camera to any extent was in the 1977 kid show, Magic Mongo, which was a segment on the Krofft Supershow. Here, let me show you the opening of an episode…
That series was another "last minute fill-in" by Lennie. The producers, Sid and Marty Krofft, wanted Lennie for the role but the network wanted someone else. I think it was Alex Karras. Anyway, shortly before taping was to start, there were contractual disputes with whoever ABC favored and Lennie got the part. He was wonderful in it. He was wonderful in everything he did. The Kroffts knew that, which is why they wanted him. Lennie had been the main writer of their first TV series, H.R. Pufnstuf, along with providing the role of the title character and many others.
I worked with Lennie on another of the Kroffts' shows and we became instant friends. He was just a funny man to be around…although he had one habit I must admit I didn't like. He was the master of practical joke phone calls. You may remember another episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show he was in. He played Buddy Sorrell's accountant who, for a gag, called up Rob Petrie and got him to dismantle his telephone…then told him to put all the parts in a brown paper bag, go out on his lawn, swing it over his head and "Scream like a chicken!" One of the reasons Lennie was so convincing in the role was that the script was based on a trick he'd actually pulled on people. And believe me. If Lennie had called you and tried the same trick, you'd have been out on your lawn, waving pieces of your phone and screaming like a chicken.
He was brilliant at putting people on. One time, we were driving somewhere in his lime green Rolls Royce (I told you he made a lot of money) and he said, "Listen to this" and phoned Gucci's on Rodeo Drive. Without even taking his hands off the wheel, Lennie — adopting an accent from no known country — convinced some General Manager to open the store an hour early the next morning so that the Ambassador of Frammistram could shop undisturbed and select a gift for the upcoming coronation. We arrived at the restaurant before he could take the prank to its logical conclusion, which probably would have involved the entire staff standing out on Rodeo, swinging Gucci bags over their heads and screaming like chickens.
I don't like tricks like that. But I had to admire the skill and, of course, I liked Lennie.
At some point in the eighties, Lennie got bored and unhappy with the industry. A close, trusted associate cheated him out of more money than some of us will ever see. His mother became very ill and then died, and the stress got to him. He married a lovely woman from Chile named Sonia and suddenly, almost overnight, decided he'd be happier there in retirement than here in show business. He quickly sold his magnificent home and that green Rolls, moved to Chile and purchased what I suspect was an even nicer home. There, he and Sonia were very happy and had two daughters — "the goils," Lennie called the three of them — and he spent an awful lot of time on the Internet, e-mailing jokes to everyone he knew.
When he departed L.A. and Show Biz, his friends were stunned and even his agent called me and asked, "Is this a joke?" No, it wasn't. Lennie spent the last few decades in Chile, staying in touch with his old friends by phone and Internet. We either spoke or e-mailed almost every day. I'm going to miss that a lot.