Lost Goon Show sketch to be performed for first time in 70 years

The Goon Show
Spike Milligan, Harry Secombe and Peter Sellers during a 1972 recording of The Last Goon Show of All

A lost Goon Show sketch written by revered comedy duo Ray Galton and Alan Simpson will be performed later for the first time in 70 years after being unearthed in a university archive.

The skit was found among a trove of work by the pair, who created hit shows including Steptoe and Son and Hancock’s Half Hour and are often credited with inventing the British sitcom.

Running on the BBC from 1951 to 1960, the Goon Show featured Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers and Harry Secombe.

Richard Usher, chair of the Goon Show Preservation Society, said the discovery of the sketch – found amongst a portion of the Galton and Simpson collection owned by the University of York – was “insanely exciting”.

Gary Brannan, keeper of archives and research collections at the University’s Borthwick Institute for Archives, said: “Galton and Simpson invented modern British comedy as we know it, with their wit and humour leaving a profound and lasting imprint on the shows we watch today.

“Real-world or situation comedy simply didn’t exist before them.”

He described The Case of the Missing Two Fingers sketch, which will be performed later at the York Festival of Ideas, as a Shakespearean parody, believed to have been first written by Galton and Simpson just before Hancock’s Half Hour started and the pair became household names.

“They’re just on the edge of their big career moment when here they are writing these Goon Shows, which to me I think are brilliant and are really very funny,” Mr Brannan said. [ . . . ]

Continue at source: Lost Goon Show sketch to be performed for first time in 70 years

The secret Jewish history of ‘The Goon Show’

The legendary British comedy troupe featuring Peter Sellers, Spike Milligan and Harry Secombe featured a wide range of Jewish characters.

By Benjamin Ivry

May 28 mark[ed]the 70th anniversary of the influential British radio comedy program “The Goon Show,” which inspired fans from the Monty Python group to John Lennon. The Jewish content of The Goons, comprising comedians Spike Milligan and Peter Sellers as well as the Welsh singer Harry Secombe, is usually overlooked amid the show’s comedic chaos and anarchy.

Milligan, the presiding genius over the surreal scripts, cherished the Jewish roots of his colleague Sellers, whose mother was of Ashkenazi and Sephardic origin.

After Sellers died in 1980, Milligan wrote a letter to the editor of The Jewish Chronicle, a periodical founded in 1841, to complain that “at no stage [of the funeral ceremony] was there any attempt to introduce any connection with the Jewish side of [Sellers’] family. As his Mother was Jewish, most certainly then he was Jewish, whereas he did choose to be a Christian (though sometimes he fancied various other religions), his whole attitude and personality seemed to be that of a Jew. Because of this I wish some small representation by the Jewish Synagogue could have been reported or mentioned during these Ceremonies.”

The Dadaist sound collages of the Goon Show included Sellers delivering ancient gags clearly presented as being delivered by Jewish characters or idiotic antisemites.

At one moment, Sellers might be Cyril, a Jewish nudnik concerned about imbibing non-Kosher water; at another, he was Major Denis Bloodnok, a nitwit who refers to a cash register as “the old Jewish piano.”

In a different shtick, Sellers plays a manservant named Headstone the butler, who explains that someone vanished “from right under his mother’s nose.” Asked what he was doing there, Headstone explains: “It was raining at the time, I believe.”

Sellers also appeared as Lew Cash, nicknamed Schnorrer, a Jewish theatrical agent based on the real-life impresario Lew Grade.

The Goon Show’s Lew Cash was a comparatively benign portrayal of the showbiz titan born Lev Winogradsky. The London satirical publication Private Eye referred to Lew Grade as “Low Greed.”

Amid the sonic chaos of the Goons, Harry Secombe also played a character named Izzy, based on the Jewish comedian Issy Bonn.

Born Benjamin Levin, Bonn performed a routine that included sentimental songs like “My Yiddishe Momme.” Billed as The Hebrew Vocal Raconteur, Bonn was so lastingly famous that his image appears on the cover of the 1967 Beatles album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Yet just as Milligan valued Sellers’ Judaism, so Secombe prized his friendship with Ernest Levy, longtime chazzan at Giffnock & Newlands Hebrew Congregation, the largest shul in Scotland.

A concentration camp survivor, Levy was invited with the Glasgow Jewish Choral Society in 1983 to appear on Secombe’s BBC-TV show “Songs of Praise.” In his preface to Levy’s Holocaust memoir, Secombe wrote, “What was remarkable about [Levy’s] story was his lack of bitterness about what had happened to him, and his forgiveness for those who had been his persecutors. A man of infinite compassion in these days of gathering hatreds and prejudices… his shining sincerity made a lasting impression on me.”

A photo preserved in the Scottish Jewish Archive Centre of Levy, Secombe, and Glasgow Jewish Choral Society members exudes sincere good fellowship.

Other integral Jewish partners in the Goon panorama were Max Geldray and Ray Ellington, responsible for the musical interludes punctuating the breakneck verbal sprees. Geldray, a Dutch Jewish harmonica player, was referred to on the program as Conks, a UK slang term for nose.

Born Max van Gelder in Amsterdam, Geldray was among the pioneers of jazz harmonica, alongside other Jewish virtuosos such as Larry Adler, Borrah Minevitch (born Boruch Minewitz), and Morton Fraser (born Emmanuel Fish).

So essential was Geldray’s contribution to the show that in 1958, when the BBC proposed canceling his contract as a cost-cutting measure, Sellers threatened to quit the show.

Ray Ellington, a singer, bassist and drummer, was born to an African-American father and Russian Jewish mother who raised her son in an Orthodox household. Ellington attended the South London Jewish School before being hired to perform with Harry Roy (born Lipman) and His Orchestra, a group notorious for risqué comic material.

Ellington’s pianist on “The Goon Show” was a German Jewish refugee who assumed the stage name of Dick Katz after fleeing his homeland. Ellington favored a somewhat eccentric repertoire of novelty songs which fit right into the Goon sensibility.

A number of the Goons, including Milligan, Secombe and Geldray, had suffered to varying degrees from shell-shock during wartime combat. As a form of respite, Milligan surrounded himself with reassuring mini-stock companies of Jewish performers for other projects, when Sellers was unavailable.

Milligan often worked with John Bluthal (born Isaac Bluthal in Jezierzany, Galicia) former star of the Yiddish Theatre of Melbourne, Australia.

Bluthal’s ability to create a range of comic voices was likened to Sellers’s talent for mimicry. In one typical exchange reflecting the old Yiddish expression “It’s hard to be a Jew” (*Shver tsu zayn a yid), Milligan would ask Bluthal, “Are you Jewish?” and receive the reply: “No, a tree fell on me!”

Milligan also relished working with Marty Feldman, the wall-eyed comic of Ukrainian Jewish origin; the South African Jewish diva Sheila Steafel; Rita Webb, a Jewish actress from the East End of London whose stumpy, belligerent persona provoked hilarity; and his fellow comedy writer Brad Ashton (born Bernie Abrahams in Stepney, London).

Ashton/Abrahams later noted, “In the early 50s I found the BBC a bit antisemitic, so having a Jewish name did not help. I… changed my surname by deed poll, which was witnessed by Spike Milligan” on the occasion of Ashton’s marriage in 1961.

Some casual listeners found references to Jews on “The Goon Show” and other Milligan programs unsettling, although comedy mavens like Stephen Fry, of Hungarian Jewish origin, idolize him unreservedly. Fry especially admires Milligan’s series of war memoirs, published by Anthony Blond, of a Sephardic Jewish family.

Nor did a Jewish psychiatrist whose therapy made possible Milligan’s postwar achievements express any concerns. Dr. Sydney Gottlieb, who treated a range of patients from concentration camp survivors to homeless alcoholics, ministered to Milligan with humane care and understanding that won Gottlieb a verse tribute from UK poet Adrian Mitchell.

And Rabbi John Levi of Melbourne’s Temple Beth Israel good-humoredly reviewed “The Bible According to Spike Milligan” (1994) a book-length spoof, proclaiming that the Lord told Milligan: “’Inscribe your version of the Bible on 186 pages of print and even if you get things a bit wrong, I shall forgive thee!’ And he did.”

Rabbi Levi’s implication may have been that Jewish listeners to “The Goon Show” should likewise excuse the occasional deliberately outdated Jewish-themed gag, given the Yiddishkeit that was part of the program’s uniquely zany ambiance.

Source: The secret Jewish history of ‘The Goon Show’

The Goons in “Penny Points to Paradise” (1951)

Penny Points to Paradise is a 1951 comedy feature film. The film was the feature film debut of the stars of The Goon Show, Spike Milligan, Harry Secombe and Peter Sellers.

The film was directed by Tony Young, who later produced The Telegoons for BBC Television.

According to Peter Sellers it was “a terrifyingly bad film.”

Python’s John Cleese still loves silly humor

Veteran English actor, comedian and screenwriter John Cleese comes to Rockford this weekend for his one-man show, “An Evening with the Late John Cleese.” WNIJ’s Jason Cregier spoke with him by phone in advance of his appearance.

Jason Cregier:
When you first started Monty Python, did you think it would take on such cultural relevance?

John Cleese:
Oh, no, absolutely not. We wondered at the beginning whether there was going to be an audience for it at all. It was so different from any other comedy that had come before it. It was so much sillier. And we did completely unexpected things. And then a fair number of the audience just stared at the screen thinking “what is this about?” But it slowly grew, at the end of the first season there was very little excitement. But at the very beginning of the second season The Times of London wrote a piece saying that it was a very good show. And suddenly it seemed to take off. We were very surprised that suddenly it became a bit of a craze with younger people. But we sort of understood it. When I was younger, we had the same reaction to a wonderful radio comedy show that Peter Sellers hosted called The Goon Show.

The Goon Show
The Goon Show

Who were some of the influences that you drew inspiration from?

Well, I think early on when I was younger, a lot of it was Laurel and Hardy. And then Chaplin. I think he was enormously important. And then as I got a little bit older, you see in those days without video, anything I used to buy were gramophone records. And I got to know about Nichols and May, Bob Newhart and Shelley Berman in the late 50s. A lot of the best stuff on English television was American. Jack Benny and George Burns, and [Sgt.] Bilko. Phil Silvers was absolutely wonderful. And at the same time, we had this wonderful radio show with Peter Sellers called The Goon Show. And we had some very good sitcoms — a fella called Tony Hancock is totally forgotten. There was lots and lots of very, very good comedy.

What makes your comedy so generational?

I’m not so sure that it is. I think that most of the audience who come to see me are older people, many of them watched and grew up with Monty Python. One of the great delights is that they’re not the super sensitive, extremely woke people who think you shouldn’t laugh at other people. They understand that there’s a kind of affection with laughter, which overcomes any of the critical nature, everything about humor is basically critical. If you have someone who’s perfect like Jesus Christ, or Saint Francis, there’s no mystery about them. What’s funny is all the failures of human beings. I always point out on stage; we like people who can laugh at themselves.

What is so appealing to you about live stage performances?

The connection with the audience is something very real. You do a joke, and they laugh, and you stand there and enjoy the laughter. Whereas on television, you never have that experience. And you certainly don’t on film.

Do you have a favorite character or performance you’ve done over the years?

No, not really. They’re different styles. Python is very, very silly, and sometimes I think gorgeously silly. But Fawlty Towers, which is the sitcom in the hotel, I think that that was very, very good farce. That was a slightly intensified level of reality, but otherwise quite believable, and nothing particularly silly about it. And then you’ve got Life of Brian, which I think is the Python masterpiece. It says very important things about the way that people follow religious leaders. It depends really on your tastes, and the sort of humor that you like, and I like them all. It’s hard for me to pick one.

Life of Brian
Life of Brian

Does this continue to motivate you to still perform?

Mainly the need for money. I had a very expensive divorce from a woman who I’d been with for a number of years. We had no children, and the California court decided that she was entitled to a standard of living to which she had become accustomed. But the person who provided that standard of living to which she had become accustomed, wasn’t entitled to it himself.

I grew up with Monty Python through my father. I started watching it with him when I was around 14, it really influenced a lot of what I liked going forward. Eventually, I became a big David Letterman guy. And I saw a lot of parallels between the silly humor in both.

Yes, I liked his show (Letterman) a lot. I did the show many times. It took me a long time to realize that it was not really a conversation show, you had to go on with material. But if you had good funny material, Letterman was extraordinarily good at sort of feeding you and letting the funny material come out.

When you start your shows, do you have an idea what you’re doing when you come out? Or is it a blank slate, and you just kind of run with it.

Oh no, it’s very much scripted. Because you see with comedy, the way I put it is, the audience helps you write the script. Because if you go out there and they get a big laugh, you think, Well, that’s good. I think I’ll keep that. And if you go out and don’t get a big laugh on a joke, you think, well, there’s something wrong with that joke. I better fix it. The audience is always telling me what works and what doesn’t work. And as you do a tour, more and more of it works because you keep fixing the bits that don’t work. And I’ve gotten to the point now, where there’s about two moments in the show that aren’t quite right. Otherwise, it’s material I’ve been doing for some time. And although I’m repeating it, the fact that the audience is enjoying it so much always gives me the feeling of fun, that we’re having fun. So, in a funny kind of way, it still feels quite fresh, but it’s because it’s a live performance. I can see people’s faces.

John Cleese, thank you so much for joining us.

Thank you, Jason, lovely to talk to you.

Listen to this interview at Northern Public Radio: John Cleese loves silly humor