Star of the Month: Red Skelton


April 1, 2025
Star Of The Month: Red Skelton

Mondays in April at 8pm | 29 Movies

It is the rare TCM Star of the Month whose filmography only represents a sliver of their industrious career. But for Red Skelton, movies were only one aspect of a prodigious and prolific life in entertainment and the arts. Born Richard Skelton in Vincennes, Indiana on July 18, 1913, Skelton would bring his talents from traveling medicine shows and vaudeville up through radio before beginning his film career in 1938. For most performers, the Golden Age of Hollywood would represent the pinnacle of their lives as performers. Still, for Skelton, it was merely another medium to conquer as he eventually made his way to being a TV star when most of Hollywood still viewed the new technology with suspicion and disdain. Even when CBS canceled his long-running successful show in 1970 in an attempt to reach younger viewers, Skelton refused to slow down, turning his attention to painting and personal appearances.

Throughout April, TCM will turn its spotlight to Skelton’s film career, one that was relatively brief by comparison to his peers and yet left no less of an impact as he was able to fashion himself a worthy successor to such physical comedy luminaries as Chaplin and Keaton. Skelton had worked with NBC as the host of the radio programs “Avalon Time” in 1938 and “The Raleigh Cigarette Program” in 1941. He created several comic personas that would appear in his later films. As we can see throughout his movies, Skelton did not view himself as a typical comedian but was able to carve out a distinct on-screen persona that was perfect for the MGM star factory which sought to elevate him from comic relief to comic star.

Viewers will understand Skelton’s appeal immediately from his first starring role in Whistling in the Dark (1941), the first of three movies to cast Skelton as radio performer and writer Wally “The Fox” Benton. In the film, a larcenous cult led by the nefarious Joseph Jones (Conrad Veidt) seeks to run a scam that will knock off an heir and give his inheritance to Jones and his members. But to plan the perfect murder, they need Benton. They not only kidnap the hapless radio man but also his girlfriend Carol (Ann Rutherford) and a sponsor’s daughter (Virginia Grey), who Wally tries to pass off as his true love interest to protect Carol from the cultists. The spooky confines of the mansion provide a great opportunity for Skelton’s exaggerated expressions and pratfalls as he bumbles his way through turning the tables on the bad guys.

What’s immediately apparent from the movie is how Skelton’s persona puts him in a fascinating category, where he doesn’t need the debonair looks of a Cary Grant or the everyman quality of James Stewart nor can he be pigeonholed as a character type like Bob Hope. Skelton is handsome in the way we would recognize certain modern comedians like Jim Carrey or Steve Carell—conventionally attractive guys who can also play broad without the gestures feeling forced. Skelton operates as a bridge of sorts, able to create comic characters and bits independently (and then that material finding its way into his movies) similar to what Chaplin did with The Tramp, but leaving a unique stamp because these were radio figures that had to find their way into a visual medium.

Ship Ahoy (1942) provides a good example of how Skelton could reuse his ideas to comic effect while still making the material feel fresh. The premise is fairly familiar—mistaken identities and misunderstandings befall a well-meaning man (Skelton) and ingénue (Eleanor Powell)—but Edward Buzzell’s musical comedy wins the audience over with its variety of entertainment. The plot concerns a dancing star (Powell) who inadvertently transports a dangerous weapon for the Axis powers thinking she’s working for the Allies. The plan comes courtesy of pulp fiction writer Merton Kibble (Skelton), who happens to be on the same ship. The coincidences don’t matter because you get to see Skelton cleverly work in his acts, like when he’s able to create a distraction by doing his bit on how various screen stars perform their deaths. It’s not that the integration is particularly elegant (why would a pulp fiction writer do impressions?), but it showcases Skelton at his most entertaining, highlighting why MGM viewed him as such a valuable commodity. 

Skelton’s 1944 movie Bathing Beauty almost feels like a steal for audiences who get not only Skelton’s comic gifts but also the dazzling work of his swimming co-star Esther Williams. Bathing Beauty features one of the stronger Skelton plots where he plays songwriter Steve Elliot. He’s about to marry his fiancée, college swimming instructor Caroline Brooks (Williams), and quit songwriting. This doesn’t sit too well with producer George Adams (Basil Rathbone), who enlists aspiring actress Maria Dorango (Jacqueline Dalya) to frame Steve for infidelity, break up his relationship with Caroline and send him back to songwriting. While this ploy does break up the couple, it spurs Steve to attend an all-woman college where Caroline is an instructor in an attempt to win her back.

Adding to Bathing Beauty’s charm is the various classes Skelton has to attend that are ripe for comic material such as the ballet class scene. Skelton is always game to be the butt of the joke, and his willingness to throw himself headfirst, both literally and figuratively, into any comic gag makes him a winning performer. The film also gives Skelton a physical performer with talents to match his own, although while Skelton went for the pratfall, Williams went for the graceful dive. The two stars have terrific chemistry together, and the picture gives both performers enough room to show off their gifts in marvelous Technicolor.

For gags-per-minute in a Skelton movie, you won’t do much better than The Fuller Brush Man (1948). Red Jones (Skelton) wants to prove to his girlfriend Ann (Janet Blair) that he can make something of himself, so he tries to get a job at her company, Fuller Brush, and become a salesman. Unfortunately for poor Red, every stop at someone’s door only leads to a series of accidents and misunderstandings. Life gets even harder for Red when one of his sales jobs brings him into contact with a racketeering operation and a murder. It’s all very silly, but the film is worth watching for the climax alone where Red and Ann try to outrun the bad guys in a war surplus warehouse, which gives Skelton plenty of material for his clownish antics. 

As memorable as Skelton is in his movies, and as much of a mark as he left in his relatively brief time in movies, there’s a lingering sense that he’s an artist who needs more control than movies of the time would give him. These were Red Skelton pictures, but just like his comic predecessors Chaplin and Keaton, their comic artistry didn’t always coincide with what studios expected from star vehicles. So perhaps it was no surprise that once his contract with MGM expired in 1951, he pivoted to NBC and crafted “The Red Skelton Show” which changed hands to CBS during its 20-year run. Similar to his radio programs, television allowed Skelton to craft a variety of characters and sketches that would have a tougher time finding their way into the conventional comic narratives MGM crafted for its stars. Furthermore, television, particularly in the variety show format Skelton preferred, allowed him more freedom to ad-lib and lean into his penchant for pantomime.

This is not to say that movies were a bad fit for Skelton, but they provide a useful glimpse of how the medium worked for him as a comic actor while also hinting at why he chose to move on to a different medium despite finding success on the big screen. Undoubtedly, Skelton was one of the brightest comic stars of Hollywood during the 1940s, but he was also too much of a comic genius to fit neatly into the studio system that could only come up with limited vehicles for a performer who could craft their own characters and ad-lib dialogue. 

Even when CBS canceled his show, Skelton could not stop creating, whether it was live performances or over a thousand oil paintings of clowns. That creative spark radiates throughout Skelton’s work and is unmissable as he makes his way through his movies with a big, goofy smile plastered across his face, playing characters who can’t help but seem to find mischief wherever they go. If you need some breezy laughs, you won’t do much better than a Red Skelton movie.