prelude
How did a self-deprecating African American comedy skit
about a drunk, who can’t convince his offstage roommate, Richard, to unlatch
the door, rocket all the way to the top of the charts in 1947? Well, I’m not
really qualified to answer that question, but when has that ever stopped me? The performative roots of “Open the Door, Richard!” may date back to
the nineteenth century, well before a fellow nicknamed McVoutie first converted
the routine into a novelty song, and before the phrase became a Civil Rights slogan.
The song influenced Bob Dylan and Allen Ginsberg, not to mention Yosemite Sam,
in the haunting ether prior to Bugs Bunny sending him off the high dive with
the crucial task of carrying an anvil all the way down.
the skit before the hit
It would be unthinkable today for performers of any race to apply burnt cork
makeup and appear, insincerely or otherwise, in “blackface” routines. Yet during
another era, it wouldn’t have been uncommon to do so, for African American comedians
like Dewey “Pigmeat” Markham, John “Spider Bruce” Mason, and Clinton “Dusty”
Fletcher, all three of whom entertained audiences with “Open the Door, Richard!”
in a number of venues, including the waning minstrel circuit of the early
twentieth century. Their versions of the skit may have derived from Bob
Russell, a legendary writer whose career dated to the Civil War era.
Fletcher’s version may have been the most iconic; it was
filmed in 1945. Wearing shoes twice the natural length of his feet, Fletcher
plays a clown or buffoon character, evicted from a bar for the umpteenth time. Despite
pleading and knocking, he cannot rouse his roommate Richard to let him inside.
He’s a proud, spectacular mess for yet another offstage character, the
meddlesome woman across the street. He climbs a ladder, adding that he’s “high
as a Georgia pine,” but ultimately, he and the ladder clatter to the stage
floor. The audience chuckles. Over and over, Fletcher appeals to his roommate:
“Open the Door, Richard!”
While white audiences may have fathomed
some of the humor, the gags may have been particularly relevant to the African
American experience, through their references to squalor and shortages. The
drunk is wearing the only suit shared
by the two men, thus Richard must be at
home. The duo owe so much back rent that the landlady has asked for it over and
over again, but the drunk insists—never mind the back rent—she ain’t gonna get any front rent. Fletcher draws from the “dozens,” playground games, and
other oral tradition.
What was Richard doing, in there? Perhaps Richard had
been in a deep slumber, or perhaps he’d been entertaining a lady friend, but
either way, great power rests in his classical status as an unseen character.
In never speaking, in never appearing to unbolt the door, Richard’s absence
forces the monologue to keep unfolding, so long as the jokes continue to elicit
laughter.
enter jack mcvea
We like Jack McVea
because he played baritone sax on Lionel Hampton’s visionary jump tune “Flying
Home” in 1942, but also because Slim Gaillard dubbed him “McVoutie” during a
recording session with Charlie Parker. We enjoy saying McVoutie. (For this
reason, we like Slim Gaillard, too.) McVea knew the “Richard” skit quite well
as he often shared the stage with Dusty Fletcher, during tours. He affixed music
to Fletcher’s routine and began performing the song “Open the Door, Richard!”
as leader of his own band in the mid-1940s. During a 1946 recording session for
Black & White Records, the producer suggested that the group record the
song.
In this version,
McVoutie and his bandmates had been out “having a ball” but Richard went home
early, carrying with him the only key to their place. Thus, McVea preserves the
comedy skit’s tradition of highlighting shortages; namely, there is only one
key to go around, and apparently, several bandmates are living together in tight
quarters. The bandmates can hear Richard breathing in there, so why can’t he
come to the door? They knock again and again: “Open the Door, Richard / Open
the door and let me in.”
Officially, Jack McVea & His All Stars recorded “Open
the Door, Richard!” in Los Angeles. The September, 1946 session likely included
Tommy “The Crow” Kahn (piano), Gene Phillips (guitar), Frank Clarke (bass), and
Rabon Tarrant (drums). The lead vocal is handled by Jack McVea, with assistance
from Rabon Tarrant and Joe “Red” Kelly. Writing credit goes to McVea and
bassist Clarke. It was bundled with “Lonesome Blues” on the B-side, a competent
lament with fine ensemble playing and strong hollering by drummer Tarrant.
Billboard reviewed the release in October 1946, writing that, “[The] tale of the locked-out drunk is altered for waxing purposes, deleting all reference to liquor.” The reviewer insists that, unlike the comedic versions, McVea doesn’t portray a “pie-eyed” (drunk) character, but that he’s simply late in returning home. “[The] Rhythm section sustains the moderate but contagious beat.” And that might’ve been it. Yes, McVea and his bandmates wore sombreros onstage, but otherwise, there wasn’t too much action in 1946, to propel the song upward. Little could predict the “Richard” phenomenon that would ensue.
1947
Just scant weeks into the new year, in early February,
McVea’s version rose to No. 2 on the R&B chart, and No. 3 on the pop chart.
Noting the sensation, other musicians rushed into the studio to record versions
of the song. In the weeks to follow, six different versions rose into the
R&B top 10, almost simultaneously. These would include discs by the great
Louis Jordan as well as Dusty Fletcher (one of the original skit comics).
Versions by the great Count Basie and The Three Flames would both reach No. 1
on the pop chart.
As big money entered the equation, a lawsuit arose over
royalties. After
the lawsuit, recordings generally had to credit Dusty Fletcher, John Mason,
and Jack McVea, not to mention a fictitious character, Dan Howell, with
“Howell” likely being a lavishly-rewarded stand-in for Decca owner Dave Kapp.
Perhaps it was better to be fictitious, in the end. McVea claimed to have
received less than $4,000 in royalties, over the course of his career.
Doo-wop, hillbilly, calypso, French, Spanish, Swedish,
Hungarian, and Yiddish versions emerged. Jimmy Durante, Bing Crosby, Jack Benny,
and Burl Ives either took an interest in “Open the Door, Richard!” or recorded
the song themselves. In his 1947 recording, Louis Jordan famously quipped: “I
know I ain’t common, cause I’ve got class I ain’t never used yet!” All attempts
at answer songs flopped. Understandably saturated, Radio stations began to ban
the originals!
legacy
In time, “Open the Door, Richard!”
became an African American catchphrase, referenced
during the Civil Rights Movement. It became emblematic of doors—to equal
opportunity and increased representation—that were closed to Blacks. Segregation
would not end, as well, until the door opened.
Bob Dylan recorded “Open the Door,
Homer” in 1975 as homage to the song; his deviation in title might’ve recalled
Dusty Fletcher, who apparently experimented with different names, including
Homer, until he settled on the crowd-pleasing Richard. Despite the intrusion of
Homer in his title, Dylan sings about Richard, throughout the song.
A few years earlier, poet Allen
Ginsberg referred to the song in his poem, “Elegy for Neal Cassady.” In a 1987
interview about his musical roots, he revealed that he “…was following the
development of rhythm & blues, stuff like “Open The Door, Richard” – [Allen
begins singing] – ‘Open the door, Richard / Open the door and let me in’ – You
know that one? – To me, it was some sort of apocalyptic opening of the gates of
heaven!”
high-diving hare
Imagine that you are the
gun-blazing outlaw, Yosemite Sam. You’ve paid good money to see the show, and dadgummit—pistols popping off
overhead—you’re going to see the show! Yet when a slippery emcee, Bugs Bunny,
attempts to cancel the show, a series of aggressions must ensue. This is an old
west show about—high diving? Yes, high diving. So you charge up the long, long
ladder—pistols popping off overhead—only to be sidestepped by the foxy bunny
over and over. Down you fall, into the little barrel of water, over and over.
Once again, you charge up the
ladder and discover that Bugs has installed a locked door between you and him.
“Open up that door!” you shout. Behind it stands Bugs Bunny, on the end of the
diving platform. But before you charge into the door, you turn aside, to the
audience, and kindly reassure them: “You notice I didn’t say Richard?” Well,
you get up a head of steam and charge the door, only for Bugs to hold it open.
There you are, scratching for a handhold, in mid-air, when Bugs hands you an
anvil. Down you go, while that rabbit munches a juicy carrot.
Don’t even get me started on Henery Hawk.
sources of information
500 Songs podcast, Episode
10
on “Double Crossin’ Blues” (Johnny Otis)
500 Songs podcast, Episode
46
on “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” (Chuck Berry)
The Billboard, issue for
October 12, 1946
Black Grooves review of Open the Door, Richard! – The Story of a
Showbiz Phenomenon
Cinema 4 Cel Block article
on “High Diving Hare”
Jim Dawson, “Richard Opened Doors,” article in L.A. Times
Discogs entry
for “Open the Door, Richard!” by Jack McVea
Dreamtime Podcast article on “Open
the Door, Richard!”
Bob Dylan Haiku article
on “Open the Door, Richard” (or “Homer”)
Dusty
Fletcher film “Open
the Door, Richard” comedy routine 1945
Allen Ginsberg poem
“Elegy for Neal Cassady” in The Paris
Review, 1972
Allen Ginsberg Project article on
Ginberg’s musical influences, 1987
Marv Goldberg’s R&B Notebooks, article on “Open
the Door, Richard!”
Jazz Archaeology discography for
Jack McVea
Stephen Koch, “Arkansongs – It’s Another Song of Arkansas:
‘Open the Door, Richard,’” article in
Arkansas Daily Record
Looney Tunes cartoon “Crowing
Pains,” featuring Henery Hawk & Foghorn Leghorn (1947)
Looney Tunes cartoon “High-Diving
Hare,” featuring Bugs Bunny & Yosemite Sam (1949)
RJ Smith chapter “Richard Speaks: Chasing a Tune from the Chitlin Circuit to the Mormon Tabernacle,” which appeared in This Is Pop: In Search of the Elusive
at Experience Music Project
Vaudeville old & new: an
encyclopedia of variety performances in America,
entry for Dusty Fletcher
Paul Watts liner notes for Open
the Door, Richard! – The Story of a Showbiz Phenomenon
Joel Whitburn’s Top
R&B Singles, 1942-1988
Wikipedia article for “Open
the Door, Richard”
this post is part of a triple issue. also see:
got you on my mind
roughshod
