Amos 'n Andy is the sitcom that
won't go away and yet apparently can't come back; a current observation is that blacks are
viewing it with new respect.
From 1928 to 1943 it was a loyally followed radio show. For over thirty
years, two white men, Freeman F. Gosden and Charles J. Correll created,
developed and performed the resilient pair of characters in the world's first broadcast
serial. The first two episodes were called "Jim & Charley"
when the show premiered March of 1928, over WMAQ (Chicago) with
thirty-eight affiliates; changing to "Sam & Henry" and finally "Amos & Andy" in
the fifth episode. Only Ernestine Wade and Amanda Randolph
went to the televised sitcom from the radio cast. The hysterically funny CBS sitcom premiered in June 28, 1951; the cast
included Alvin Childress as Amos, Spencer
Williams, Jr. as Andy, Tim Moore as "Kingfish", Johnny
Lee as Algonquin J. Calhoun/Attorney, Ernestine Wade as
Sapphire, Horace (Nick O'Demus) Stewart as Lightin', and Amanda
Randolph as Sapphire's mama. The Thursday night program was produced
by Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll (see above radio history) and was widely
syndicated until 1966.
Amos 'n
Andy left us on the floor in laughter, when Andy and the Kingfish in an infant care
class (suspecting that Sapphire was expecting) fought over changing diapers, and the baby
doll's arm was freed from the socket:
"Andy, you done broke my baby!"
Remembering that line for over forty years, we don't wonder that
collections offered on the web, go like hotcakes. For a time there was talk about a movie
by none other than Robert Altman. Just listening to Gaetano
Braga's "Angels Serenade" indicates their
popularity wasn't nourished by show's theme song-- still it's one nostalgic earful.
Kingfish would get Andy into trouble: "Holy mackerel, Andy,
we's all gots ta stick together in dis heah thing-- remember, we is
brothers in that great fraternity, da Mystic Knights o' de Sea."
Amos was really only a supporting character/narrator, a cabdriver: but was articulately a
role model of fairness, judgement, careful consideration and sanity. His charm was his
"every man" quality, artfully provided by actor Alvin Childress.
The NAACP protested
the series as fostering racial stereotypes, but Amos 'n Andy drew sizable
audiences during its two-year CBS run, and rerun on local stations for the next decade. In
1963 CBS Films, still calling Amos 'n Andy one of its most widely circulated
shows, sold to two African countries: Kenya and Western Nigeria. Soon Kenya announced the
program would be banned; in the summer of 1964, when a Chicago station announced that it
was resuming reruns, there were widespread bitter protests. In 1966, the program was
withdrawn from sale, quietly.
Certainly the vernacular used by characters could be
considered insulting to the image of black Americans given that particular 60's climate.
Yet, programming has always been as "unflattering" to others: TV comedies just
aren't intended as purposeful tools for PR or the elevating of image-- in fact, PR is the antithesis
of satire, given intent. There's still no agreement on the show's racial overtones; many
say the situations were no different than those found in many comedy programs with white
characters. The humor arose from one 'shiftless' conniving on another, and neither
none-too-bright. The stronger character's influence over the weaker: Ralph Cramden
and Ed Norton/later emulated by Fred Flintstone and Barney
Rubble; Lucy Recardo on Ethel Mertz; later Archie
Bunker on everyone, Fred Sanford on everyone, Taxi's
Louie on everyone. Tragically we'll toss in Iago on Othello.
Yet, in the US in 1966, there was a different climate. Have we come far enough in
cultural appreciation to give Mark Twain a nod for Huckleberry Finn
and suspect that irony and satire is best when the intent is muddied?
Should women be insulted that Lucy was an atypical character?
Should we reject her buffoonery and conniving behaviors
for the sake of women everywhere? Does it say we (white women and/or all women) are just
too idiotic to be in showbiz? Haven't we outgrown that 60's mindset? Isn't laughter in the
millenium a more precious commodity --than pleasing all viewers all the time? Can't we
just acknowledge that life
is too important to be taken too seriously?
Alvin Childress (Amos) was quoted:
"I didn't feel it harmed the Negro at all. Actually the series
had many episodes that showed the Negro with professions and businesses like attorneys,
store owners, and so on, which they never had in TV or movies before."
Ernestine Wade (Sapphire) had an interesting perspective:
"I don't think people tune in a comedy show for an education.
If it would have been a documentary it would have been a different thing. People will
scream about things they don't enjoy, take the Grapes of Wrath, Tobacco Road, there was a lot of static about that, but those people really
exist. Their names might not be the same, but their prototypes exist, and there's no need
to deny the existance of something just because you don't like it."
The web consensus is that it won't resurface on network television
ever again. A current note on the last surviving member of the sitcom cast: Los
Angeles, 18 December 2000 at age 90, "Nick" Stewart (Lightnin') passed. He
was an actor, teacher, cultural and community activist, and the voice of Br'er Bear
in Disney's "Song of the South",
which apparently suffered a similar controversy. Our loss.
