Harry's remembrance is a combination of chutzpah and humbleness. I think he reveals himself to be very warm, even a bit sentimental, and his love and pride for his brothers and their collective career is quite evident. I would have loved to have known Harry.
Following is the text of Harry's entry in "The Vaudevillians" with introductory remarks by the editor, Bill Smith. By the way, the book is available on Amazon, and here is the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Vaudevillians-Bill-Smith/dp/0026118904/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309617847&sr=1-3
Bill Smith -
The Ritz Brothers, Al, Harry, and Jimmy, were outstanding for their precision dancing. But it wasn’t until they added knockabout comedy that they became vaudeville favorites. The burden of comedy was carried by Harry. A special material song, “The Man in the Middle is the Funny One”, became their trademark. It lead to Harry’s persistent bellowing plea of “Don’t holler-please don’t holler”, as the brothers would argue as to which was really the funny one. Much of their comedy was physical. The brother would push each other around while Harry wandered around the stage screaming, “Don’t Holler!”
Harry Ritz -
“We broke into vaudeville in the late 1920s; I think it was 1929 – a hell of a time to break in. But what did we know about stock markets or whatever? Anyway, the stock market was busting wide open and there we were trying to become actors. It wasn’t so much that we wanted to become actors as we wanted to make money – to eat, and maybe to meet girls. Our first break-in was at the Fox’s Folly. I forget who our agent was, if we had an agent, but we got $50 for the week-that was for the three of us, Al, Jimmy, and me.
We worked joints; we worked wherever we could get a job. Our real name is Joachim and we changed it: Al’s got an extra’s job in Brooklyn’s old Vitagraph studio near Coney Island for 75 cents. They asked for his name and he gave Al Joachim. The guy said the name was too long. Al then looked out the window and saw a truck marked “Ritz Crackers” – so his name became Ritz. When we started there was a kind of fashion in show biz for brother teams – there were the Slate Brothers, The Condos Brothers, the Reo Brothers. Now there was the Ritz Brothers.
The most wonderful thing about vaudeville was the respect people had for actors. We had fans who would follow us. And if the early small-time days were bitter, and if sleeping atop radiators to keep warm and staying up many long nights on dirty trains to make jumps were tough, they taught us many things. Working to many different audiences also taught us our trade. Like most brother acts around then, we started as hoofers. We could dance, but who knew from talking? Sure, we picked up some jokes, but basically we were hoofers.
Well, about a year after we broke in, we made the Palace. And was that a thrill. The headliner was Frank Fay and his wife Barbara Stanwyck. Fay was a star. She just came out for a little drama bit. Nobody on the bill, certainly not us, ever guessed that girl would someday become a big movie star. But then again, why would we? We were interested in ourselves, out spot on the bill, our music, where we were booked next, etcetera. The sort of thing that every actor was interested in.
Oh sure, between vaude dates we worked in Shubert shows. We had long routes; we played with the biggest headliners of the day. But that goes without saying. After all, we were the Ritz Brothers and there wasn’t a big-time bill that we didn’t fit and make better. We made a lot of friends. And if some of them copied us, what of it? Sid Caesar used to say we were his idols. That was nice to hear. Our idol was Charlie Chaplin.
We have been credited with being the forerunners of many a comedy act – Jerry Lewis for one – but every actor learns from another. It isn’t imitation so much as the acquisition of certain mannerisms. Later you develop your own abilities and somebody copies you. And so it goes.”
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