On the Pluto TV “Johnny Carson Channel” they air a rotation of vintage “Tonight Show” broadcasts. One late evening I was watching an episode from December 14, 1972. Johnny’s final guest was author Terry Galanoy, who–of all things–had just written a book called “Tonight!: An Anecdotal History Of America’s Favorite Talk Show.” And here’s that spot, which so fascinated me that I bought a copy of the book (the crippling eBay addiction continues unabated). The video is set to start with Johnny’s introduction of Galanoy. My comments and review of the book will make more sense after you watch this.
Note in the video how dog-eared, bookmarked and notated Johnny’s copy of the book is.
Johnny Carson’s interviewing style could best be expressed as “support the guest; make them the star.” But he gets pretty testy with this guy, and frankly for good reason. Galanoy’s complaints about the types of guests and subject matter aside for the moment, it’s the “behind the scenes” anecdotes that draw the ire of Johnny…and Jim Garner, and Bruce Dern, and the almost shockingly stern Ed McMahon.
Carson, as seen in the video and described in several written accounts, never liked news stories fixating on his salary. That kind of information stood in stark contrast to the image he had cultivated so carefully. Johnny was a television star, yes; quick with a funny line; but at the core he still represented the friendly, kindhearted, faithful (divorces notwithstanding) Midwesterner. Johnny could tell jokes and hobnob with the biggies, but he was just as at home talking to an 87-year-old farmer or a man whose dog could climb trees. It was an interesting balancing act–Johnny’s I mean. Well, the dog too. Aw, heck–what’s a Johnny Carson thing without best-of clips?
The other gossipy items– about Carson possibly drinking vodka at the makeup table or having a glass under the desk, and the supposedly cold way he accepted his brother Dick’s desire to leave the show–are no less tacky if possibly teetering on possible. Johnny Carson the offstage individual has been described as “aloof” enough times, by enough people, in enough eras of his life, that one has to expect there is some truth to it. It’s certainly plausible that someone who spends thousands of hours in the public eye perhaps feels the need to decompress once the lights have gone dim. And the annals of show business are thick with performers who are gregarious, outgoing and extroverted when performing, and socially awkward in smaller situations.
As for the vodka: It’s mentioned very briefly in this book, and in much greater detail elsewhere, that in the early days Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon were essentially drinking buddies, and Big Ed had to pull Johnny away from some bar fights.
Three years after this interview, Carson was arrested for DWI. Alcohol, it would seem, was a lingering battle.
Now let’s talk about the book. First, author Terry Galanoy likes lists.
He likes catalogs, canons, listings, registers, rosters, compendiums, directories, dockets, inventories and manifests.
He does about 15 of these throughout the book. As a literary conceit it’s a decent enough novelty. But it shows up so frequently here that the impression is that of a 5th grader who’s been assigned a 1,000-word essay and can’t get past 879.
There’s some decent pre-history here, especially regarding Sylvester “Pat” Weaver, the programming innovator who created “The Today Show”, “The Tonight Show” and other program formats and policies. In early discussions “Tonight” was going to be essentially a nighttime “Today Show”…but the selection of Steve Allen as host took things in a completely different direction.
I’ve read a lot about the early eras of “The Tonight Show”, and this book does a decent job describing the Allen years, the turbulent Paar era (rife with feuds and scandals including the notorious walkout) and even NBC’s earliest attempt at late-night, “Broadway Open House”, a burlesque-style variety show.
Where the book trips up, in my observation, is its section on the Carson years.
It becomes clear very quickly that the author is most interested in talking about the appearances of authors on the program. I suppose in some instances a writer’s personal bias sticks out like a sore thumb. Long, detailed paragraphs are dedicated to the appearances of noteworthy authors while icons of show business–including Jack Benny, who was a huge influence on Carson-are name-dropped.
The book was written in 1972. In 1980, after another blockbuster contract renegotiation with NBC, “The Tonight Show” was cut from 90 to 60 minutes. Authors were seen much less frequently. Johnny and those of his guests who remembered the 90-minute era would even joke about the often numbingly dull author guests:
Terry Galanoy finishes the book with a plea to the Carson show producers about offering the type of service features one might find on “Today”, “Hour Magazine”, “The Home Show” and the like. The examples he gives in his appearance with Carson (“how to get a good table at a restaurant”) are ludicrous, and there are even more of them in the book. “How to get a cab in the rain.” “How to tip hotel employees.” “How to outsmart a used car salesman.” He even suggests ending the Carson show with a one-minute “sermonette”!
As odd as these things seem, it is helpful to remember the 3-channel, no-internet universe of 1972. It’s also interesting to see Carson during the interview casually suggest that TV was not a place for education. PBS was already starting to prove otherwise and the cable TV revolution would offer a universe of learning opportunities. And “Addams Family” reruns. Today it’s a lot easier to judge a late-night comedy interview show for what it is because anything else you could possibly want it to be exists somewhere else. Podcasts, blogs, YouTube, TikTok and on and on and on.
But back to ’72. Basically, Galanoy refuses to see “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” for what it is: an entertainment program, focused on comedy in both written and spontaneous forms. It’s that way because that was the kind of program Carson felt comfortable hosting, in contrast with the drama and tears of Jack Paar and the wide open canvas of Steve Allen. The book’s pre-history section, and those devoted to Allen and Paar, make it an enjoyable read.