Goofy, angry, funny, fresh: Smothers did it all

Tom Smothers (shown here) was many things – a clever comedian, an adequate singer, a great finder of new talent and new ideas.
He was also a champion gymnast and, much later, a yo-yo master.
Still, Smothers – who died Tuesday (Dec. 26) at 86 – will be remembered mainly as the guy who nudged American TV into the modern world. And that was partly by accident.
As the 1966 TV season began, variety shows were becoming scarce and old. NBC had ones hosted by Andy Williams, 38, and Dean Martin, 49; ABC’s only variety hour was led by Lawrence Welk, 63. CBS had ones with Jackie Gleason, 50; Garry Moore, 51; Red Skelton, 53; ad Ed Sullivan, 65.
An agent pointed this out to CBS, David Bianculli wrote in “Dangerously Funny” (Simon & Schuster, 2009) and suggested that Tom and Dick Smothers, 29 and 27, should have a show. Surprisingly, William Paley, 65, the CBS chairman, agreed.
That was going to start in the fall of 1967 … except then came a rush: Facing NBC’s top-rated “Bonanza,” Moore flopped; CBS needed a quick replacement.
“Judy Garland, Garry Moore and Perry Mason had all been chewed up by the unbeatable western,” Peter Metz wrote in “CBS” (1975, Playboy Press). “The Smothers Brothers appeared to have bought a one-way ticket to oblivion.”
The brothers could have waited for a better slot and more preparation, but jumped in. “Tommy said, ‘Hey, if we succeed, it will be big; it will be a big deal. And if we fail, no one will blame us,” Ken Kragen, their agent, told Bianculli.
For CBS, this seemed like a mild bet. Here were two clean-cut guys who wore blazers and did silly humor. They had veteran producers in charge and traditional plans.
Guest stars, Metz wrote, included “CBS stars Eva Gabor, Eddie Albert, Jack Benny, Ed Sullivan and Jim Nabors,” none of them fitting a youtful image. “The network seemed to be stacking the cards against its own concept.:
But that fit the Smothers plans. “What Tom had in mind, from the very beginning, was a show that would be paced almost like his beloved variety shows from TV’s Golden Age,” Bianculli wrote. He wanted dancers, an orchestra, a circus-type opening with a big bass drum. “’The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour’ would plant one foot in the past and one in the future, straddling.”
Some reactions were muted. Variety, the show-business trade paper, said the opener was “neither here nor there nor hip nor square.”
The first real signs of being hip were the music guests. Tom chose the Doors, the Byrds, the Hollies, the Temptations, Jefferson Airplane, Simon and Garfunkel and more.
And yes, it was Tom making the decisions. “I wasn’t really very important to the production aspect,” Dick told Bianculli.
Dick loved being a racecar driver and more; Tom focused on the show. He had fresh ways to show songs and wilder ways to do sketches. He turned to stronger material – drug references, sex references, opposition to the Vietnam war.
“Tommy’s the crusader,” Dick told Bianculli. “To be a crusader, you have to overreact.’”
When the original head writers left after two seasons, Smothers had full control. He also had young writers he’d hired for a summer-replacement show and then kept on.
One was a comedian who had auditioned by breaking eggs on himself while reading his negative reviews. Another was a self-described radical, 21, who called Tom “a sell-out.” Those two – Steve Martin and Rob Reiner – went on to big things; so did other new writers, including songwriter John Hartford, actor McLean Stevenson and Bob Einstein, later known as “Super Dave Osborne.”
All were signs of Tom’s eye for eccentric talent. There was also musician Mason Williams, filmmaker Chuck Braverman, improv comedian Leigh French and more. In early episodes, Pat Paulsen was just the guy with the bass drum and a fake mustache; later, his deadpan “editorials” became audience favorites.
During this time, the censorship battles grew. “Tom kept firing, losing or leapfrogging over those who served as intermediaries,” Bianculli wrote.
He was on his own, in a no-compromise fashion. ”He loved to taunt the censors, the network,” comedian David Steinberg told Bianculli. “They were the establishment.”
As William Tankersley, then CBS’ standards chief, put it:. “He’s charming and likeable,but he drove me nuts.”
And drove himself. “Tommy’s health was suffering as a result of the constant pressures,” Metz wrote. “His skittish stomach was acitng up; he was gaunt and underweight.”
If things had gone on, he would have been producing four shows – his own, Glen Campbell’s and their two summer replacements. “I was worn out,” he told Bianculli, “and I had no sense of humor and I was out of whack. So it’s a good thing I didn’t have those four shows. I don’t know what would have happened.”
CBS dropped the show. The ratings were strong – No. 16, 18 and 27 in three seasons – but the network said Smothers had twice failed to meet a Wednesday deadline to deliver a final episode affiliates could screen.
Later, a jury decided that the deadline had never been in the contract; CBS had to pay the brothers $916,300. Still, the career damage had been done.
The Smothers Brothers did make modest comebacks and set up a new world. Less than two years after CBS dumped them, it approved the “All in the Family.”
The brothers would be praised by new satirists– Jon Stewart and Bill Maher and Michael Moore and more – and even by Lyndon Johnson, whose Vietnam War they opposed.
In a letter, Johnson wrote: “It is part of the price of leadership of this great and free nation to be the target of clever satirists.”