A Pete Smith Specialty

A century ago (1925), a show biz press agent named Pete Smith (Peter Schmidt, 1892-1979) got the plum job of publicity manager for MGM films. Prior to this, this son of a German-American brewery cooper had been a secretary at the vaudeville performers union, a critic and editor at Billboard, and the p.r. man for Oliver Morosco Photoplay Co, Artcraft, Marshall Neilan, and Famous Players-Lasky. In his own field, he had essentially reached the top. Having always worked behind the scenes, little did he dream that one day soon he himself would be the attraction.

The agent of change in this case was Jules White, later to be known for running the Columbia shorts department, home of The Three Stooges, late career Buster Keaton, et al. In 1929 he launched a series of shorts at MGM with director/writer Zion Myers called The Dogville Comedies, which were parodies of contemporary Hollywood films starring dogs with voice-over actors providing the dialogue. Smith possessed a whiny, nasal voice with a thick New York accent, and so he was drafted to supply one of the voices. In 1931 he began producing and narrating sports shorts for MGM. Inevitably, his bemused, wisecracking personality began to manifest itself, and to become popular with audiences. In 1933 and 1934 old silent movies were trotted out and given the Pete Smith treatment under the title Goofy Movies.

In 1935, he was given his own branded series Pete Smith Specialties. These one reel films, shot without sound, would usually explore some element of life in the manner of a newsreel or a how-to manual. They could be about anything. But the attraction was Smith’s comments. I hasten to point out the fact that these shorts were technically comedies does not imply that Smith was actually funny. The running commentary didn’t have a lot of wit or insight or spark. He was not a comedian or even a comedy writer. It was precisely as if some guy — some guy from the mailroom, say, or a fry cook, or a plumber — were narrating home movies and cracking wise off the top of his head. His remarks were always obvious and essentially redundant, articulating what we could already see with our eyes. “Look at all the jam on this kid’s face. He should try aiming that spoon and putting some of that jam in his mouth!” It’s all that sort of thing.

Amazing to relate, this series ran a full 20 years, through 1955, one of the last series of movie shorts to be cancelled. Smith actually won a couple of Oscars for them! I’m going to go out on a limb and speculate that the longevity of the series was less because of the excellence of the product, and more because it was ideal filler in a theatrical program as it existed at the time. When the Pete Smith short was on, you still had time to run to the bathroom.

Smith’s end was sad, however, and more spectacular in a horrible way than any of his short films. At the age of 86, he jumped off the roof of the old folks’ home where he was living in early 1979. Thank goodness there was no one around to jokingly narrate the newsreel on that item! “Lookit that darn fellah! Doesn’t he know roofs are for keeping the rain off? Mind your footing, Old Father! Whoops-a-daisy! I hope the gardener’s on his lunch break!”

For more on vaudeville, where Pete Smith got his start,consult No Applause, Just Throw Money: The Book That Made Vaudeville Famous, for more on classic comedy shorts please check out my book: Chain of Fools: Silent Comedy and Its Legacies from Nickelodeons to Youtube.