June 2011
Joe Smiley exited stage left to tumultuous applause, as usual, at the Bradford Alhambra, to be met by a breathless stagehand who informed him, 'Here, Joe, there's two geezers from the 'Big Smoke' waiting in your dressing room. I showed them straight in there, 'cos they were both wearing expensive suits and seemed quite important, like.'
Wearing expensive suits in Bradford at the time, 1955, was indeed a rarity. Perhaps they were agents from the Moss Empire circuit or Jack Hylton's outfit.
'Yes, you did well there, Jim.' said Joe, reaching into his pocket for a tip for the lad, but changing his mind. 'Yes, very well, I'll see you alright by this, come pay-day.'
Making his way to his dressing room, Joe greeted the two agents enthusiastically.
'Hallo, gents, I hope you enjoyed the show.'
'We did indeed.' said the taller and slimmer of the two. 'That's what we wanted to talk to you about.' Joe waited expectantly. 'We represent Mr Lew Grade, who I dare say you've heard of.'
Joe certainly had; if he could get on Lew Grade's books, he could look forward to some very lucrative bookings.
'Well, what you may not be aware of is that Mr Grade is getting into television and we've been scouting around on his behalf, signing up comedy acts to appear on Variety Shows in the new Independent Television Channel and possibly star in their own series.'
'Oh, I see.' said Smiley, somewhat taken aback. He hadn't in his wildest dreams comtemplated appearing on TV, let alone in his own series. He then asked them, more to collect his own thoughts than anything else, 'So, who've you signed for this new TV station then?'
'Well,' said the smaller gent, 'so far we've signed Dickie Henderson, Dave King, Derek Roy . . . oh, and a new young feller you might have come across, Des O'Connor.'
'No, I can't recall him, but of course I've worked with the others many times. So you really think Mr Grade would be interested in me for television?'
'Yes, undoubtedly. That routine you did of how different characters played golf had us in stitches and I'm sure TV audiences would lap it up. We'll arrange an audition for you, so Lew can see for himself. Tell me, where can we contact you?'
It struck Joe then that in all the years he'd been touring the provincial theatres, since he was a kid, he'd never had a proper home; it was always digs that he'd lived in. These fellers would have to contact him at the theatre. Hopefully the show would still be running when they got in touch.
Six months later, after a sucessful appearance on 'Sunday Night at the London Palladium', Lew Grade's ATV company decided to offer Joe Smiley his own series, with each show consisting of him starring in different sketches, interspersed with musical guests.
Rehearsals for the first show had been under way for a week or so and Francis Essex, the director was worried. Things weren't going at all well. He'd seen Joe's act at the Alhambra and his TV audition and of course the Palladium show and all had gone down a bomb, but for some reason Smiley wasn't adapting to the sketch show format, unlike Dave King and Dickie Henderson, who'd managed the transition almost seamlessly. He just couldn't understand why, given the experience this old trouper had in the business, so that was why he'd arranged this meeting with Joe in the comedian's favourite pub. He felt it waould be the most relaxed atmosphere for a heart-to-heart chat.
Unfortunately, Joe turned up about twenty minutes late, looking a trifle the worst for wear. Despite this being his own chosen hostelry, it seemed he had dropped off somewhere else first, along the way.
'Come in, Joe, what'll you have?' said the director, politely overlooking the lateness and the fact that the drink ws by no means the first he'd had that afternoon.
After a few minutes' pleasantries exchanged, the director gradually turned the conversation from a discussion of some of the great comic turns to the problems of the TV show.
'I don't know, Joe,' said the director, 'It just doesn't seem to be working, does it? Your golf routine was so fantastic and I've seen you hold the audience in the palm of your hand doing it in the theatre and on the Palladium show. But somehow, you'll forgive me for saying this, I know, your timing and delivery of the punch lines just doesn't seem to be on target – as yet. Not to mention the gags that require props smashing or catching fire on cue. Don't forget this is all going to be happening live on TV, you can't do a re-take like with a cinema film.'
Essex paused. He realised he'd sounded a bit harsher than he meant to. He didn't want to destroy the poor chap's confidence right at the beginning of tackling a new medium.
'Perhaps you need the inspiration that only a live audience can give. I'll tell you what, why don't you take some of the sketches out on the road with you? We'll clear it with Uncle Lew. I'm sure the audience reaction to the punch lines is all you need to give you your confidence back. What do you think?'
He looked at Joe expectantly, but Joe's expression was inscrutable. He breathed deeply, then spoke in measured tones. 'This is what I think, Mr Essex. Listen, I'm not a patch on someone like Dickie Henderson and never could be. His timing is perfect, he can do all the slapstick, he knows which camera to face when he's completed a prat-fall which would probably break my ankle.'
'But, Joe,' countered Essex, 'we could teach you. We could give you a crash course in TV comedy.'
'Yes, and it would be a crash course, too, wouldn't it? Listen, Mr Essex, I've done that golf routine for thirty years in theatres all over the country and scarcely had to change it at all. It's served me well and hopefully will see me out, 'til I'm forced to pack it in.
'This TV thing uses up your material at quite an alarming rate and it's just not for old dyed-in-the-wool performers like me, who've survived on the same act they've done in Bradford one year succeeding again in Torquay the next. I'm afraid you can't teach an old dog new tricks, so I think the best thing you and your ATV can do is cancel my contract and give the series to someone a bit younger and a bit more adaptable.'
And so it was that Joe Smiley kept on performing his golf routine well into the 1970's and, apart from a couple of short cameo appearances, never appeared on TV again.