Trivia: American comedian George Burns had a taste for show business from his youth on New York's Lower East Side, and by the time he was seven he and his buddies had formed a singing group called the Pee Wee Quartet. Amateur shows led to small-time vaudeville, where Burns faced rejection time and again, often gaining jobs from people who had fired him earlier through the simple expedient of constantly changing his professional name. Usually working as part of a song-and-snappy-patter team, he was in the process of breaking up with his latest partner Billy Lorraine in 1922 when he met a pretty young singer/dancer named Gracie Allen. The game plan for this new team was to have Gracie play the "straight man" and George the comic, but so ingenuous and lightheaded was Gracie's delivery that the audience laughed at her questions and not at George's answers. Burns realized he'd have to reverse the roles and become the straight man for the act to succeed, and within a few years Burns and Allen was one of the hottest acts in vaudeville, with George writing the material and Gracie garnering the laughs. George and Gracie married in 1926; thereafter the team worked on stage, in radio, in movies (first in a series of one-reel comedies, then making their feature debut in 1932's The Big Broadcast) and ultimately in television, seldom failing to bring down the house with their basic "dizzy lady, long-suffering man" routine. Though the public at large believed that Gracie had all the talent, show business insiders knew that the act would have been nothing without George's brilliant comic input; indeed, George was often referred to by his peers as "The Comedian's Comedian". Gracie decided to retire in 1958, after which George went out on his own in television and in nightclubs, to less than spectacular success. After Gracie's death in 1964, George concentrated on television production (he had vested interests in several series, among them Mr. Ed) and for a nervous few years tried using other comic actresses in the "Gracie" role for his club appearances. But it wasn't the same; George Burns would be first to admit there was only one Gracie Allen. Though he never retired, Burns was more or less out of the consciousness of moviegoers until he was hired at the last minute to replace his late friend Jack Benny in the film version of Neil Simon's The Sunshine Boys (1975). His performance as a cantankerous old vaudeville comic won him an Oscar, and launched a whole new career for the octogenarian entertainer as a solo movie star. Perhaps his most conspicuous achievement in the late 1970s was his portrayal of the Almighty Spirit - with distinct Palace Theatre undertones - in Oh, God! (1977). Even after reaching his centennial year, Burns remained as sharp-witted as ever. Less than three months after his 100th birthday Burns passed away. But fans can take comfort because Burns has gone beyond the realm of Show Business Legend; he is practically an immortal.

Trivia: The daughter of a musical comedy performer, San Francisco-born comedienne Gracie Allen joined her sisters on the vaudeville stage at the age of 3 1/2. After convent school, Allen returned to the family act, then at age 18 joined the Larry Reilly Stock Company. Quitting the Reilly troupe over a dispute about billing, Allen left show business to become a secretary. In 1922, she was introduced by her showbiz friends to struggling vaudevillian George Burns. After striking out professionally with several male partners, Burns was anxious to launch a boy-girl act. He and Allen toured small-time vaudeville with a routine largely borrowed from other performers. At the time, it was customary in boy-girl routines for the girl to play "straight" while the boy told the jokes, but as Burns would later claim, "They laughed at all of her questions but none of my answers." Burns wisely switched roles, allowing Allen to be the "funny one." Allen's stage character would ever after be the dumb-dora chatterbox who confounded Burns with her convoluted logic. Burns would react in exasperation to double the laugh, but learned early on that he couldn't indulge in any slapstick with Allen; the audience was firmly on her side, and wouldn't stand for any rough stuff. After three years of courtship, Burns finally convinced Allen to marry him in 1926 (it was her first marriage, his second). That same year the team graduated to the prestigious Palace Theatre with an act called "Dizzy"; later on they would score a bigger success with the Al Boasberg-written routine Lambchops. While touring the British Isles in 1929, Burns and Allen made their radio debut with a 26-week BBC series. Back in New York, they began appearing in one-reel movie comedy shorts, first for Vitaphone, then Paramount. Rudy Vallee "discovered" the team for American radio in 1931; the next year, they costarred with Guy Lombardo on a weekly CBS program, quickly entering the realm of folklore with an extended running gag about Allen's "missing brother." With The Big Broadcast (1932), Burns and Allen inaugurated their feature-film career, first as guest stars and supporting players, and finally as leads in such programmers as Many Happy Returns (1934), Love in Bloom (1935) and Here Comes Cookie (1936). Though their film career had begun to peter out by the late 1930s, Burns and Allen were selected to costar with Fred Astaire in his first film without Ginger Rogers, A Damsel in Distress (1937). Here for the first time, the moviegoing public was treated to the terpsichorean skill of Burns and Allen, who not only kept up with Astaire, but at times matched him step for step. In 1939, mystery writer S. S. Van Dyne came up with a "Philo Vance" story idea titled The Gracie Allen Murder Case. While both Burns and Allen "appear" in the published version of the story, Allen alone starred in the 1939 film version, driving erudite detective Vance (Warren William) to distraction by referring to him as Fido Vance. Allen could get a bit trying without Burns around to rein in her insanity, but audiences were pleased with The Gracie Allen Murder Case, prompting MGM to concoct another Gracie Allen solo vehicle, Mr. and Mrs. North (1941). With the exception of a guest appearance in Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), the North film closed out Allen's movie career. She stayed busy in radio, and made headlines in 1940 when Burns concocted a nonsensical presidential campaign for Allen on the Surprise Party ticket. When their radio ratings began dropping in the 1940s, Burns changed their radio characterizations from young sweethearts to middle-aged parents (the couple had adopted two children in the 1930s); this transition was successful, and was carried over into the popular Burns and Allen TV series, which ran from 1950 through 1958. Plagued by illness and increasing stage fright, Allen decided to retire in 1958, a move that warranted a cover story in Life magazine. Burns continued performing without her, working with several partners (including Carol Channing) until he felt secure enough to go it alone. Comfortably retired for many years, Gracie Allen died in her sleep of a heart attack in August of 1964.

Trivia: Though born in a Chicago hospital, entertainer Jack Benny was a Waukegan boy through and through. The son of a Polish immigrant haberdasher, Benny studied the violin from an early age (he really could play, though he was certainly no virtuoso), and managed to find work in local theatre orchestras. As a teenager, Benny gave vaudeville a try with a musical act in partnership with pianist Cora Salisbury, but this first fling at show business was only fitfully successful. During World War I, Benny was assigned to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center, where, while appearing in camp shows, he first began telling jokes in between violin selections. Benny returned to vaudeville with a comedy act, slowly building himself up into a headliner. He made his first radio appearance on Ed Sullivan's interview show on March 29, 1932; within a year he had his own show, which would evolve over the next two decades into one of radio's most popular programs. He met with equal success when he moved into television in 1950. There are few comedy fans in existence who aren't familiar with the character Benny played on the air: The vain, tone-deaf, penny-pinching, eternal 39-year-old who spent his life being flustered and humiliated by his supporting cast (Mary Livingstone, Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, Dennis Day, Frank Nelson, Mel Blanc, Don Wilson et. al.); nor need his fans be reminded that this character developed gradually, rather than springing full-blown upon the world way back in 1932. What is usually de-emphasized in the many accounts of Benny's life and career is his sizeable body of movie work. Benny himself insisted that most of his films were no good, and many casual viewers have been willing to accept his word on this. Actually, Benny's films, while not all classics, were by and large moneymakers, and never anything to be truly ashamed of. His first feature appearance was as the wisecracking emcee of MGM's The Hollywood Revue of 1929. He followed this with a comic-relief role in Chasing Rainbows (1930) and an uncharacteristic straight part in the low-budget The Medicine Man (1930). He was a perfectly acceptable semicomic romantic lead in It's in the Air (1935), Artists and Models (1936), Artists and Models Abroad (1936), and in his appearances in Paramount's College and Big Broadcast series. Whenever Benny expressed displeasure over his film career, he was usually alluding to those pictures that insisted upon casting him as Benny the Famous Radio Comedian rather than a wholly different screen character. Transatlantic Merry-Go-Round (1934), Man About Town (1939) and Buck Benny Rides Again (1940), though enjoyable, are totally reliant upon Benny's pre-established radio character and "schtick" for their laughs, and as such aren't nearly as effective as his actual radio appearances. His most disappointing movie vehicle was Love Thy Neighbor (1940), designed to cash in on his phony feud with fellow radio humorist Fred Allen. Not only was the film uninspired, but also outdated, since the feud's full comic value had pretty much peaked by 1937. Many of Benny's best films were made during his last four years in Hollywood. 1941's Charley's Aunt was a lively adaptation of the old Brandon Thomas theatrical chestnut (though it did have to work overtime in explaining why a man in his forties was still an Oxford undergraduate!); 1942's George Washington Slept Here, likewise adapted from a stage play (by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart), was a reasonably funny comedy of frustration; and yet another stage derivation, 1943's The Meanest Man in the World (based on a George M. Cohan farce), allowed Benny to go far afield from his truculent radio persona by playing a man who is too nice for his own good. Benny's finest film, bar none, was the Ernst Lubitsch-directed To Be or Not to Be (1942), in which the comedian was superbly cast as "that great, great Polish actor" Joseph Tura. Benny's final starring feature, the much maligned Horn Blows at Midnight (1945), was an enjoyable effort, and not by any means the unmitigated disaster he used to joke about on radio. The film's problem at the box-office was that it was a comedy fantasy, and audiences in 1945 had had their fill of comedy fantasies. After Horn Blows at Midnight, Benny's theatrical film appearances were confined to guest spots and unbilled gag bits (e.g. The Great Lover and Beau James). In 1949, Benny produced a Dorothy Lamour movie vehicle, The Lucky Stiff; in addition, his J&M Productions, which produced his weekly television series from 1950 through 1965, was also responsible for the moderately popular TV adventure series Checkmate (1960-62). In 1974, Benny was primed to restart his long-dormant movie career by appearing opposite Walter Matthau in the 1975 film adaptation of Neil Simon's play The Sunshine Boys; unfortunately, he died of cancer before filming could begin, and the film ultimately starred George Burns and Matthau.