Finishing the Hat

While posting the previous item about the Oscar streaker, I was reminded of another incident.  Years ago, when I labored on Welcome Back, Kotter, I worked with a fine comedy writer named George Tricker.  George had previously cranked out mirth for Johnny Carson and he'd authored the joke that then held the record for the longest laugh in the history of The Tonight Show.  It was in one of those pieces Johnny used to do where he'd show photos from the news and announce funny captions for them.

The picture was from a then-recent (1974) Rugby match at Twickenham.  You can pretty much discern what happened from the photo, which Johnny displayed as part of a desk bit on supposedly-forthcoming TV shows.  This picture, he announced, was from a new series entitled "A Hatful of Ralph."

Like I said, it got one of the biggest laughs ever on that or any show.  In fact, it came in waves.  First, the audience howled.  Then they laughed again, remembering what they'd just laughed at.  Then they saw Johnny and Ed sitting there, laughing so hard that they couldn't continue the routine and the audience found that funny, too.  Tears were coming to Ed McMahon's eyes.  It was so funny that Johnny re-used the photo and caption, with slight variations, several times in succeeding weeks and repeated the bit on at least one anniversary show.  It was a great joke…one that even worked for people who were unfamiliar with the name of the play — A Hatful of Rain — on which it was based.

George Tricker wrote that joke.  In fact, he wrote it at the perfect time because his contract was then up for renewal and Johnny was disinclined to keep him around.  Following the explosion of laughter over A Hatful of Ralph, Carson picked up Tricker's option for another 13-week cycle.

Flash-forward just a few years.  George and I are working on Kotter and we're doing a Christmas episode about a homeless old man whose life is rescued and renewed by Mr. Kotter and the Sweathogs.  To play the hobo, the producers hire a veteran character actor named Michael Gazzo.  That's him in the photo below.  Mr. Gazzo had a long, distinguished career in the theater and in motion pictures.  Mr. Gazzo had a long, distinguished career in the theater and in motion pictures (here's a link to his entry in the Internet Movie Database) but he was probably best known for his role as Frankie Pentangeli in Godfather, Part II.  He also taught acting and, off-stage, he was a very serious, intense man who kept talking about anger — his and others'.

When he and our director discussed his role on the show, he kept discussing the character's anger at his station in life, the other characters' anger at having a vagrant around, how the audience would identify with the characters in the episode through their anger, etc.  Some actors and coaches interpret everything through sex; others, through fear.  With Mr. Gazzo, it was all about anger.

Now, what does this have to do with the photo and anecdote above?  Answer: Along with being an actor and acting teacher, Michael V. Gazzo was also a playwright.  He wrote A Hatful of Rain.

So one day, we're sitting there on a break from rehearsals — the director, some cast members, Gazzo, George Tricker and me.  And someone asks Gazzo something about A Hatful of Rain, which was a huge success on Broadway in 1955 (the cast included Tony Franciosa, Ben Gazzara, Harry Guardino and Shelley Winters) and a movie and maybe the greatest success Michael Gazzo ever had.  And before he can tell us much about the play, someone else says, "Hey, did you see that bit that Carson did last year?  A Hatful of Ralph?"

Everyone recalls it and laughs — everyone except Gazzo who recalls it and summons up his anger.  Great anger.  He stands up and in his hoarse, tortured voice, yells, "I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU HOW UPSET I WAS ABOUT THAT!"  With roughly the emotion you or I might use to describe the murderer of a close relative, he speaks of the hurt at having his beloved play held up to such ridicule — not just by Mr. Carson but by supposed friends who called him about it, asked him about it and somehow expected him to laugh about it.

I give George a look.  Gazzo is a small man and George is a large man who, strictly in terms of bodyweight, could probably crush the small man under one foot.  But the small man is so passionate and outraged on the topic that George looks a bit afraid of him.  He shoots me a look that says, "For God's sake, don't tell him."  And I shoot George back a look that says, I hope: "I won't…for the right price."

Gazzo is going on and on about his thoughtless, inconsiderate friends who thought he'd take it as a joke — but the main target of his wrath is Johnny Carson.  Finally, he asks, "What kind of man would come up with a joke that defaces and ridicules a man's work?"

There's a pause and George Tricker says, "You know, I'm ashamed to admit it…but I know guys who write jokes like that."

[P.S., added a few years later: I recently heard from another writer who worked for Mr. Carson at the time of the "Hatful of Ralph" joke and he claims that he, not George, wrote it.  I don't want to get into the middle of that debate because I have no info other than that George said he wrote it and that at least one other Carson writer supported him in this claim.  It's a good anecdote though and I offer it here strictly as that.]