On the eighth of June 1971, Jerome Rodale, the wellness advocate, organic farmer and founder of Prevention magazine, appeared on The Dick Cavett Show in New York City to discuss health and longevity.
Following an interview in which he made statements such as “I’ve decided to live to be a hundred” and “I never felt better in my life!” – Rodale moved over one seat to make way for the next guest, celebrated journalist Pete Hamill. While Cavett and Hamill were talking, Rodale slumped in his chair and lost consciousness. Suffering a massive heart attack, he was rushed to nearby Roosevelt Hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival.
Cavett has said that for years afterward, not a day would pass without someone telling him how they’d never forget seeing the tragic event unfold on their television. This, despite the fact the episode never aired anywhere. Ever.
The irony of the incident and false memories it inspired notwithstanding; the Rodale episode served proof that just about anything could happen on The Dick Cavett Show.
While flipping through the channel guide earlier this year, I noticed a listing for Cavett’s eponymous talk show with guests that included Muhamad Ali and Norman Mailer. It was on MeTV, a network I knew but never really watched. As a nostalgia channel, they re-run popular programs from the 1950s, 60s, 70s and 80s. From The A-Team to The Waltons, it’s a treasure trove of 20th Century content – most of which I’m not particularly interested in seeing. But I thought Ali and Mailer were worth the time, so I hit the record button on my DVR. A few days later when I finally watched the episode, I was captivated and immediately set my DVR to record every episode, every week night, at 9pm.
If something like Spotify’s year end recap Wrapped existed to calculate and analyze TV viewing habits, my 2022 personality would be The Time Traveler. That’s because watching Cavett is the next best thing to having your very own flux-capacitor – one that can transport you back to America anytime between 1968 and 1975.
I’m specifically referencing the ABC years in which Cavett’s show went from mornings (68-69), to primetime (69) to late night (70-75). The latter being in direct competition with his fellow Nebraskan, Johnny Carson.
As such, the show was always on the verge of cancellation. The almighty Nielsen Ratings Book hung over Cavett like the Sword of Damocles. The topic was routinely brought up by guests during conversation, especially after a letter writing campaign reinstated the program after ABC decided to give it the ax.
But there were several other stays of execution required during that time. Carson was the undisputed King of Late Night and his audience was triple the size of Cavett’s. In fact, the CBS Late Movie usually relegated Cavett to third place. His talk show was like RC Cola to Coke in a world where Pepsi didn’t exist.
Having now watched so many episodes, the reasons are apparent. Johnny Carson was a charming, funny and relatable guy. He kept the show light and firmly in the entertainment zone and his guests reflected that vibe. Carson was like an old friend. (I’d compare him to Jimmy Fallon, but that would be giving Fallon way too much credit. Carson was a unique talent).
Conversely, Cavett was not your pal. While witty, he was not particularly funny. (It did not take long before I just started fast-forwarding through his monologues). He was erudite, awkward, and often came off as a smug New York elitist that betrayed his heartland origins. Cavett ran in lofty social circles and never quite understood that how relentless name-dropping might sound to the average TV viewer. It’s one thing to have these friends, it’s another to constantly remind viewers that they do not – even if unintentional.
In hindsight, Cavett never really stood a chance going toe-to-toe with Carson. It’s remarkable he lasted as long as he did.
But what Cavett offered to a ferociously loyal fanbase was something entirely different. The Dick Cavett Show was an alternative late night talk show that embraced youth culture and the complicated issues of the day. Sure, they had tons of entertainers, but you were not going to see Danielle Ellsberg on The Tonight Show discussing the Pentagon Papers and the Vietnam War for 90 minutes. Neither would you see Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin perform and then chat about what it was like to be on stage at Woodstock.
But you would on Cavett.
Carson celebrity interviews could be viewed today out of context and be enjoyed by anyone today. The fashions might be different but the show, outside of the monologues, was essentially timeless. His late-night descendants have deviated little from his successful formula.
But Cavett’s show was time-stamped, and that’s why it may be more important.
Watching an episode without being aware of the subtext of a conversation will often render it meaningless. One needs to know what was happening at that moment to fully appreciate what’s being discussed. Cavett likely did not know it at the time, but he was creating virtual time capsules with every broadcast.
It was also pretty raw. The show’s production values were fast and loose. The boom mic was seemingly always in the shot and rarely an episode could finish without sirens blaring so loud through the studio walls it would stop people mid-sentence.
When watching reruns of The Dick Cavett Show, you can literally hear New York City slip further into its decades’ long decline.
Cavett had two primary formats. The less frequent was a one-on-one interview with a guest that warranted such special focus – these were usually entertainment legends like Orson Welles, Bette Davis, Fred Astaire, Marlon Brando or Alfred Hitchcock. Some of these conversations were excellent (Welles), while others not so much (Astaire). But one-on-one was not where the show excelled.
The Dick Cavett Show was at its best with multiple guests freely interacting with one another. The thing I find most interesting about Cavett was that he wasn’t a skilled interviewer. With his papers sprawled out in front him, he wasn’t very efficient nor adept at extracting information from his guests. That’s why the quality of one show versus another is entirely dependent upon the guests. If they were interesting and choose to be so that night, the show was great. Otherwise, everyone would suffer through Robert Mitchum droning on with some boring story because Cavett didn’t have an exit strategy.
But this weakness may also have been the show’s greatest strength. Because of his social status, Cavett had an ability to attract an eclectic mix of individuals and a willingness to allow them to engage in an environment of conversational exploration. The contrasting composition of some of his panels was often wild.
The more random the assortment of guests, the greater the odds of witnessing the surreal. To get a sense of the hodgepodge, here are some of my favorite lineups, in no particular order:
- Sandy Duncan, Ralph Nader & Bobby Fischer
- Salvador Dalí, Lillian Gish and Satchel Paige
- Liza Minnelli, Robert Klein, Pete Seeger & Gale Sayers
- Robert Downey Sr., Gwen Verdon & Jimi Hendrix
- Richard Attenborough, Patty Duke, Redd Foxx & James J. Kilpatrick
- Joe Namath, Joan Rivers & Adam Clayton Powell Jr.
- Paul Simon, Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford & Marcel Marceau
- Bill Russell, Michael Caine & Philippe Cousteau
- Ethel Merman, Agnes Moorehead & The Harlem Globetrotters
- Jim Brown, Lester Maddox & Truman Capote
This last lineup resulted in one of the more infamous moments in the show’s history, when the greatest running back of all time-turned movie star, Jim Brown, asserted in a question to then Georgia Governor Lester Maddox, that his supporters were bigots. It touched off a bizarre exchange with Cavett that resulted with the Governor storming off the show.
One of the better episodes I watched this year was originally broadcast on January 22, 1973. After introducing film producer John Foreman, joining a panel consisting of Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward and journalist Oriani Fallaci, Cavett informed the studio audience that former President Lyndon Johnson had just died. Watching these five people process the news and provide their immediate, conflicted and unfiltered thoughts about the meaning of LBJ’s death in real time is fascinating.
But my all-time favorite show originally aired on June 24, 1970 when actor Douglas Fairbanks Jr. asked recently retired newsman Chet Huntley about objectivity in journalism. The conversation turned to the state of discourse in the country and the polarization of the American public. Raquel Welch and Janis Joplin get into an unexpected and animated exchange on the topic that is much better seen than described.
Beyond the bizarre juxtaposition, many of the exchanges from half a century ago – like Welch vs Joplin – resonate with me because they are often the topics we still wrestle with today. The main difference being you just don’t see such differing viewpoints sharing the same stage anymore.
The free speech of the early 1970s sure seemed a lot freer than the version we have in 2022. As turbulent as that era was, and despite the radical change the country was experiencing, that sort of tolerance level for being challenged is unimaginable today.
And we are worse off because of it.
The last episode of The Dick Cavett Show on ABC aired January 1, 1975. There were six subsequent iterations to follow – most notably PBS (77-82), USA (85-86) and CNBC (89-96).
MeTV does sprinkle in these versions of the show – and they do have value. For one, Cavett is a better interviewer in subsequent years and he still could bring in big names. But while the conversations are often revealing, it’s just not the same.
When you see Cavett on USA Network or CNBC, you feel sort of bad for him. It’s like watching a former all-star suit up for Old Timer’s Day. You might enjoy seeing him, but he is no longer relevant. It breaks your heart a little.
It’s those ABC years that have all the magic and truly capture the zeitgeist of what it was like to be alive in America during the Vietnam War and Watergate.
The show may not have been appropriately appreciated at the time, but Dick Cavett deserves a great deal of credit for this sublime gift to the generations that followed.
Just watching Fallaci brought back how miserable an era that was. The mid-1960’s to early-1970’s dripped with lack of perspective masked as perspective. PJ O’Rourke once said that “seriousness is stupidity sent to college”. You’re right that it’s a time capsule, though. I’ve seen reruns of Johnny Carson where you think about some celebrities of the era, but this clip really brings back the feel of the era.
I’m curious if you’ve watched any Tom Snyder recently.Report
That’s interesting. I find the naivety you see in a lot of these conversations endearing. I don’t see that time anymore or less miserable than today, but I didn’t live through it as I was only born during it. There has never been a shortage of insufferable people, at least back then they were better read.
I have not seen any Snyder recently. I do remember him, but probably more for Dan Aykroyd’s doing him on SNL than his show himself. Anything specific you recommend? Not sure I can do another deep dive into the 70s like I did via Cavett.Report
My favorite Tom Snyder moment would be when he was interviewing Meatloaf and inadvertently referred to him as “Meatball”.Report
Snyder’s full-hour interview with John Lennon seems to be on YouTube (in pieces). Snyder doesn’t make it about himself, which is the main thing I remember about him.Report
Nothing in particular. I just think he was somewhat of a successor in terms of style, then followed by Charlie Rose, then a considerable gap then the long-form podcast. I figured you might enjoy.Report
By the way, I would have read the article with a different picture, but wow, that’s a picture.Report
LOL. If you write something, and want people to read it, you could do a lot worse than promoting it with a photo of Raquel Welch at the peak of her powers.
Earlier in the Welch-Joplin show I reference (but not in the Huntley clip) Cavett says to her “There you are… and when I say there you are. There’s no doubt about it either.”
And that is the truth.Report
I was a big fan of Rose. He was a far superior interviewer than Cavett. Funny you mention podcasts. I was going to draw a line to them in the piece but never got there.Report
I remember joking that Charlie Rose was like, in 2004, “Famous Director, what inspires you to create a film like this?” In 2005, he was, “Geopolitical Expert, were there WMD’s?” In 2006, he was, “Famous Director, what do you think about WMD’s?”Report
I remember watching Dick Cavett’s show, along with Carson, Snyder, and some of the afternoon shows like Merv Griffin.
What they had in common in that era was being network broadcasts trying to cope with the rapid cultural shifts in America.
Their mandate was to somehow appeal to the broadest possible audience, which meant being relevant and topical. But the network censors had as their Default American Viewer, some middle aged woman in Iowa.
And they had as their template (Cavett more than anyone), the educational talk shows developed in the 1950s where people would sit around smoking and quietly discussing the issues of the day in grownup language.
Which accounts for all the bizarre lineups you noticed. The gatekeepers of culture like the New York Times, the three networks and radio were all trying to feel their way through the wild uneven landscape, but still maintaining their grip as gatekeepers.
So like Cavett might interview some radical lesbian advocating free love, or someone on par with Anita Bryant, and remain ostensibly neutral while indicating with subtle cues as to the acceptable boundaries, as defined by him and his circle, and the network censors.Report
That’s a really good insight. Totally agree.Report
I was born in late 1980, so only saw 70s TV in reruns but the 1970s seemed a strange time for American entertainment. The American public seemed more open to realistic working class sitcoms like All in the Family, Good Times, or Welcome Back Cotter. There were lots of variety shows on TV with different themes and serious talk show interviews.Report
A couple guys my age were talking about something about China in the 1800’s, and one of them said, “Oh, did they even have China back then? Wait, that’s right, Hop Sing was on Bonanza”.
I know what he meant. In the black and white 1960s all the faces on TV were white middle Americans. Then, suddenly, around 1970, colored TV and colored people just sort of appeared out of nowhere.
American Bandstand was followed by Soul Train, Mr. Ed was followed by The Jeffersons and Sanford and Son and Good Times.
I can see how people just felt like America just transformed overnight. Look at San Francisco in Vertigo (1958) and Dirty Harry (1971).
But we know now that this wasn’t true of course. Nonwhite and non Christian people existed in the same numbers before 1970 as after, and all the things that seemed new in 1970 like premarital sex, swinging, homosexuality, and radical leftist politics had always been around.
Its just that the lens of American culture was now turned in a different direction and looking at things it never had before.Report
I am not really sure about what color TV has to do with my observations on the weirdness of 70s television. Also, Americans of all races generally preferred their entertainment to be aspirational and affluent rather than gritty. The 70s seems to be a big gaping exception. Compare and contrast the movies made during the New Deal. Even ignoring race issues, most White Americans were suffering because of the Depression but still wanted to watch movies with mainly prosperous or even wealthy individuals rather than grit.Report
Movies are too varied to fit into a neat box. There were gangster/ crime flix in the 30’s and Film Noir was a thing in the 40’s and 50’s. Lots of american entertainment was down or cynical even in up times. People want many things from entertainment, not just whatever is the Zeitgeist. But it wasn’t until the late 60’s/early 70’s that the actual diversity of america started to show up on tv/movies.
Old 30’s fav of mine. I was a prisoner on a chain gang starring Paul Muni.
Pendent point: Film Noir was not a movement at the time but a collection of styles that was later named. FTR yes i have had long discussions about what is Film Noir.Report
Im not disagreeing, just explaining how it looked for a lot of people.
Color was part of the overall shift of culture, fashion, and music.
if you look at say, Johnny Carson in 1965 versus 1975, it wasn’t just that the earlier show was broadcast in black and white, much of the world it presented WAS in black and white. His suits were charcoal gray or black, his shirts were white.
The world that you saw on TV in the 70s was ablaze with colors, vivid Peter Max graphics on Laugh In, or the harvest gold and avocado of every sitcom living room, to the plaid and striped bell bottoms and silk shirt which would be parodied by Steve Martin and Dan Ackroyd in the 80s.
For people who got most of their information about the world from their TV set( i.e., most people) the world just looked like it changed somehow.Report
We’ve been watching a couple old popular 70’s tv shows that. Quincy and Emergency. Both fun and good and weird given the times they were made. Both have minority characters often in important roles which was a big deal. Sure there is the occasional wow cringy moment to our eyes. But it was a big shift from most older tv.Report
On a recent DCS re-run Cavett interviewed Thomas Noguchi aka The Coroner to the Stars. He was the LA County Medical Examiner that “Quincy” was supposedly inspired. Of course, Noguchi being Japanese-American, they cast Jack Klugman for the role.Report
At least they cast a Japanese American as Sam. That was an actual advance in representation. I only remember one Sam is “inscrutable” crack.
The only reason Quincy got on the air was with Klugman as lead.Report
Good point.Report
I think was mainly due to the limitations of the technology. I’ve seen color photos of the set of the Addams Family TV show. It was let’s say really vivid.Report
I think the networks in the 1970s still felt a bit that it was their public responsibility to educate and enlighten public. Now a lot of these shows could be aired during times when very few people watched TV but the shows existed. Right before he died, the poet Frank O’Hara was subject to a lengthy profile on an arts show from one of the big three including him reading some of his poems. I can’t imagine that happening today. There was a time when Bravo tried to be an arts network, Discovery tried to be a science network, and the History channel tried to have some history (even if jokes about the Hitler Channel are over 20 years old at this point). All of that is gone. Bravo is now for gossip and trashy reality TV. Discovery and History have their own horrors.
DC probably survived for as long as he did because of this public service component.
I remember watching Dick Cavett interview Mick Jagger back stage at some concert and all Cavett wanted to talk about was Mick’s student days at the London School of Economics. Jagger had no idea how to react to this.Report
Interesting. Not sure if the DCS checked the box on the FCC’s Public Interest Standard obligation. I tend to think it didn’t, but maybe?
I saw that Jagger interview this year! Total train wreck, and not in a particularly good way. But I give Cavett props for the attempt.Report
Maybe not officially but it could have given him more leeway unoffciallyReport
I recall Cavett talking about the Rodale incident. When the man collapsed, Cavett, still miked, asked “Is there a doctor in the …” and was about to say “house”, but realized the cliche could be interpreted as a joke, and so switched to “… audience?”. Good presence of mind.Report
There is an account of the incident in which Cavett quips “Are we boring you?” when Rodale went unconscious. He has denied this.Report