"New Yorker" Shakes Down Bob Hope

Woody Allen, former manager, family members dish on ailing comic legend

By Daniel Frankel Dec 14, 1998 10:30 PMTags
Hit 'em while he's still alive.

Perhaps that was what the New Yorker magazine was thinking when it put together a critical, excruciatingly long profile of 95-year-old comedian Bob Hope for its December 21 issue.

Titled "The C.E.O. of Comedy," writer John Lahr (the son of Hope comic contemporary and Cowardly Lion Bert Lahr) doesn't craft a terribly obvious hit piece, calling Hope "unique among the great entertainers of the century in having been at some point...No. 1 in radio, in film and in television."

But make no mistake, Lahr is clearly not lionizing the now retired and enfeebled entertainer.

Hope is described as a relentless fame seeker who neglected relationships with his children; a womanizer who regularly cheated on his wife of 64 years; a comic charlatan who frequently employed as many as 13 writers at a time; a demanding boss who'd call his writers at all hours of the night; a con man with "larceny in his soul," who learned to grift while growing up on the mean streets of Cleveland; and a ruthless vaudeville survivor who evolved into "the first corporate comedian," crassly entering his monologues with such Hope-isms as, "This is Bob Pepsodent/Chrysler/Lever Brothers Hope."

Following Hope from his childhood immigration from England to Cleveland--when he was called Leslie Townes and had to deal with an alcoholic father--all the way to his 1995 show-biz retirement, Lahr's source list is extensive and critical: Groucho Marx: "Hope is not a comedian. He just translates what others write for him. Linda Hope (his daughter and longtime producer): "I don't feel that I really know him. That's a kind of sadness for me, because I would have liked to know him better." Harry Kanter (former Hope writer): "Hope was a glutton. 'More, more more. I want more jokes. I want more dates to play. I want more ice cream. I want more women. I want more applause.'" Woody Allen: "In other media [besides film], particularly television, he was not very good. He was lazy, and nobody cared."

The New Yorker doesn't reveal much new on Hope's health, noting the comedian's refusal to conduct interviews the last few years. Lahr does say, however, that the golf-loving Hope--hindered by vision and hearing loss--spends his time these days whistling old tunes and refusing to discuss what he calls "the big divot."

Calls to the comedian's longtime publicist, Ward Grant, seeking comment on the article weren't immediately returned.