What's My Line? (1950–1967)
10/10
So many levels of enjoyment... an impossible-to-dislike game show...
16 June 2016
As a movie lover, coming closer to the 1000 reviews' goal I assigned myself to, I didn't think I would ever review a game show, especially with the many great movies (and a few TV series) I still have to work on. But it's precisely because I love movies that I love actors and because I love them that I enjoy watching them on "What's My Line?"

You have a concept that couldn't have been simpler: panelists must guess the identity of a mystery challenger with questions whose answers can only be 'yes' or 'no'. The star is betrayed by the loud applause and so era-defining wolf whistles when he or she writes his name on the chalkboard, but the fun is all in the voices' disguises and hilarious questions in their specific context "are you a curly blonde?" wouldn't make you smile unless the question was asked to Yul Brynner. Generally, actors would use falsetto voices, women deep voices, some pull an accent and other silent veterans didn't even need to hide their voices. When they succeeded, it was fun, when they failed, even more fun.

Of course, the guests generally made the news and talked about upcoming projects, and it's such a delight for a movie geek to see Jack Lemmon's performance in "Some Like it Hot" already considered as one of the funniest ever, or Eva Marie Saint asked about a project with Alfred Hitchcock. "What's My Line" is like a time capsule where Henry Fonda or Kirk Douglas where the Cruise and Pitt. But you can enjoy the show even without loving movies (but wouldn't anyone love Hollywood icons?) but by enjoying the most prevalent segments, that inspired the title. Actually, I discovered the show through the stars' segments, all featured in Youtube, and it's only four years later that I started visioning the jobs' guessing games. The panelists had to guess the candidate's line of work, following the same pattern. Each "no" got the participant 5 dollars, and after 10 "nos", the game was over.

Bullfighters, IRS commissioners, song composers, flea breeders, some of the most unexpected jobs were featured, or regular jobs from unlikely workers. Generally, the beautiful and delicate candidates had tough-guy jobs, and vice versa. But I can't go further without mentioning the panelists. Because their quality, erudition, wit and diversity is the secret ingredient to the game's enduring success. Arlene Francis, the cheerful actress with heart-shaped neck lace, who brings a permanent sunshine on the show and flirted with handsome guys, the competitive Dorothy Killgalen who plays like the officious villain of the show, Benneth Cerf, the debonair editor who built, among his many trademarks, lousy puns, mutual teasing with John Daly, and mentioning the beauty of pretty guests.

Everything was done in good spirit, and that good spirit was incarnated by the Master of Ceremony, John Charles Daly, a mild-mannered, respectable figure of entertainment whose task consisted on leading (and as Cerf said, misleading) the panelists with tortuous answers. For instance, to the question asked to an IMDb user "are you making a useful occupation?" he would say something like "well, it can be admitted that there's some advisory elements within his activity which, to some certain degree, might be perceived as useful by a non negligible number of people". And as silly as it is, it's for Daly's answers and the panelists' questions that you could improve your English literacy, even learning naughtiness while avoiding vulgarity.

Indeed, vulgarity was a big "No" and might have explained the departure of one of the early panelists, Hal Block, one who helped enhancing the show' popularity by making jokes about the contestants, until he ignored one warning too many and got fired. It was a time where the game was gaining in elegance, grace, and audience, and step by step, the show got rid of some stuff like the little walk where the candidates were even asked to show their hands (only Dorothy would even touch and comment on them) and then a few free guesses would be the occasion to distasteful remarks. Block would pay the biggest price, even more costly as he was the one who went most in need of the job while the other panelists were already established members of their own professions.

But his firing would start a new era with two talented panelists, Fred Allen and then young rising comedian Steve Allen, who would come up with the "is it bigger than a breadbox?" the first catchphrase-question of the show, proving producer Mark Goodson that he was on the right track. Finally, they would decide to keep one new panelist every time to break on the routine, Francis' wife, Martin Gabel, Tony Randall, Jack Lemmon etc. And I think we can fairly assume that there's a Golden Age of the show starting circa 1954 and ending with the untimely passing of columnist Dorothy Killgalen, a death that would cause many rumors, given her involvement in the Kennedy murder investigation.

Naturally, such a show, deeply rooted in the America of the 50's and 60's is marked by the era, but that's what makes its charm, you have the obligatory sponsor (Remington, Kellogs), the decorum: women sitting while shaking hands, except for religious people or older women, Cold War mentions, and these wolf whistles that can tell you feminism didn't prevail back then. "WML", for all these reasons, is an addictive show, and I regularly need my fix on Youtube.

And "Youtube" did more, while the stars left a legacy, the unknowns who came didn't have a VHS recorder at a time, they just had to watch themselves on TV. Now, if many of them aren't part of this world, their children or relatives can enjoy the show and see their uncles, parents, grandparents, at their primes, like the stars of their personal history.
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