Notes on a Cowardly Lion: The Biography of Bert Lahr — Review by Garry Armstrong

It’s been more than a week since I finished reading the Bert Lahr biography, “Notes on a Cowardly Lion“, written by his son, John. I am still emotionally involved. Why?

Why does a book written more than 40 years ago about a show business figure who peaked more than 70 years ago still sit front and center in my mind? I’m a retired TV and radio news reporter with more than 40 years in “the business”. The “news biz” is journalism, but it’s also performance, even for those of us who strive for objectivity.

Part of the job is celebrity too. When you appear on television five or six days a week for more than four decades, you become a household face. People ask for your autograph. You receive special treatment in stores and restaurants. Twelve years into retirement, folks still recognize me, tell how they grew up watching me on TV and ask for autographs. Mine is a regional celebrity although I’ve encountered fans almost everywhere I’ve travelled in the United States and overseas. I’ve always enjoyed and appreciated my celebrity. Yes, I miss it a bit when I’m not recognized but I don’t get depressed if I go unnoticed. I needed to share a little of my life because it puts my feelings about the story of Bert Lahr’s life into perspective. I really understood in a very personal way where the man was coming from.

Bert Lahr as the Cowardly Lion in Wizard of Oz...

I enjoyed the biographical side of the book. It speaks to history, the history of vaudeville and burlesque, show business venues that are frequently misrepresented. As a self-proclaimed trivia maven, I received a little education. Case in point: Clifton Webb, long perceived as a middle-aged effete, film actor actually was a well-received song and dance man in vaudeville. I learned the difference between vaudeville and burlesque. I came to appreciate the art form of what I used to perceive as Bert Lahr’s overly broad slapstick comedy. I understood how Lahr’s art form suffered at the hands of Hollywood film directors who tried to minimize his well honed craft and squeeze it into their movie concept of musical comedy.

Lahr’s comic genius never really had a chance  to shine in Hollywood. “The Wizard of Oz” was the exception. But that success also spelled disaster in Tinseltown because Lahr never again received a film role like the Cowardly Lion. Years later, he would find similar frustration with television which tried to restrict his comedic moves in variety shows. Lahr didn’t think much of TV comic legends like Milton Berle and Sid Caesar. Ironically, both Berle and Caesar spoke highly of Lahr in lengthy interviews with me — even as they lamented the fading of their celebrity. But that’s another story. Back to Bert Lahr.  Born into poverty, Lahr was always very conscious about being financially secure.

BertLahrEven when he returned to Broadway where he found his greatest success over the years, Lahr never felt financially secure even though he was earning top star salaries. In later years, as a TV pitchman for Potato Chips, Lahr earned more money for a thirty-second commercial than he ever did for starring in a play, movie or TV special. He still didn’t feel financially secure.

Bert Lahr did find some unexpected late professional success with surprising turns in work like “Waiting For Godot” co-starring with the likes of E.G. Marshall. Lahr savored critical acclaim, but was never satisfied even when he received it. For all of his professional and financial success, he was an unhappy man. He was insecure as an aspiring comedian/actor seeking stardom. He was insecure as a star thinking others were always trying to undermine him. He was insecure as an aging, respected legend believing people had forgotten him even though he was recognized everywhere he went. Lahr was miserable as a husband and father — demanding but not giving. Lahr desperately needed the audience — the laughter, the applause — throughout his life. Sadly,  he never appreciated the love and admiration he got from his family.

As the curtain closed on his life — with his loved ones gathered around him — Lahr still longed for his audience and their laughter and applause. He couldn’t let it go and move on, nor appreciate the good things life offered him. Lahr’s loneliness haunted me. The deeper I got into the book, the more painful I found reading his biography. I know first-hand how intoxicating and addictive celebrity is, especially when you fail to appreciate real life. Bert Lahr was never able to see the joys and sorrows of family and friends as “the real thing” that makes it all worthwhile. It’s the celebrity that is unreal and ephemeral.

It’s the people who love you who will sustain you after the curtain closes and the audience departs the theatre. That Lahr was never able to recognize what he had and accept the love that was there for him was his personal tragedy.

It’s a fine biography, but not a joyful reading experience. It is in many ways a cautionary tale, a reminder of how important it is to keep ones perspective and ones feet on the ground.

13 thoughts on “Notes on a Cowardly Lion: The Biography of Bert Lahr — Review by Garry Armstrong

  1. Brilliant review Garry! I’m going to have to search this one out. It’s funny, that you mentioned the sadness you felt while reading the book and afterward. I’ve often marvelled that the high price people pay who “live” in the public eye. Bert Lahr was a wonderful song and dance man, and yet, as you pointed out, apart from his cowardly lion, Lahr was not considered a real player in the Hollywood community. Great post mate!

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    • It’s actually not a new book. It was originally published in the 1960s, then republished January 22, 2013 after languishing for a couple of decades. Amazon has it on Kindle and regular book. You might find an old copy somewhere for short money.

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    • Thanks for the kind words and re-blog, Mike! Marilyn has been on me to write the review and I kept begging off until today. Good thing because I just beat the deadline. Lahr’s bio does resonate personally because I’ve spent my professional life as a “small fish” celeb meeting “big fish” celebs. I think maybe that’s why I got lucky with so many of those “Legend” encounters that I’ve shared. The Berle and Caesar interviews were really wacko experiences for me. Two more stories for another time. Thanks, again,Mate!! (Re: Life of a “celeb” in public. I recall times when Marilyn and I were arguing in public only to be interrupted by a fan. I would quickly switch character, turn on the charm and become the “Public” Garry Armstrong. That’s me coming clean about me.)

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      • I can’t begin to imagine how that must feel. I remember years ago getting recognised once or twice from the community theatre show I used to do and it always amazed me. Thanks for sharing that mate!

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  2. Loved this, loved the way you write. I can see why you are and have been so successful. Thanks for this interesting piece of writing. Hugs and Blessings, Tasha

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    • My husband wrote this one … he’s our resident movie maven (and a pretty good writer, if only he would write more). I am always looking for relevant, well-written material for posts to offer as links. That’s how we all prosper 🙂

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  3. Pingback: Garry Armstrong Goes Enters the Broadcasting Hall of Fame – September 2013 | SERENDIPITY

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