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    Bill Zehme, Author With a Knack for Humanizing the Famous, Dies at 64

    A prolific biographer, he charmed his way into access to, and insights about, Frank Sinatra, Hugh Hefner, Johnny Carson and many others.Bill Zehme, whose biographies and magazine profiles humanized the celebrities he described as “intimate strangers” — the “shy, succinct” Johnny Carson; the “blank” Warren Beatty; Frank Sinatra, whose “battle cry” was “fun with everything, and I mean fun!” — died on Sunday in Chicago. He was 64.His partner, Jennifer Engstrom, said the cause was colorectal cancer.Mr. Zehme’s biography of Mr. Sinatra, “The Way You Wear Your Hat: Frank Sinatra and the Lost Art of Livin’” (1997), was a best seller. He also shared the author credit on best-selling memoirs by Regis Philbin (“I’m Only One Man!” in 1995 and “Who Wants to Be Me?” in 2000) and Jay Leno (“Leading With My Chin” in 1996).His other books included “Intimate Strangers: Comic Profiles and Indiscretions of the Very Famous” (2002), “Lost in the Funhouse: The Life and Mind of Andy Kaufman” (1999) and “Hef’s Little Black Book” (2004), a stream-of-consciousness collaboration with Hugh M. Hefner, the founder and publisher of Playboy magazine.Mr. Zehme’s biography of Frank Sinatra, published in 1997, was a best seller, and he and Mr. Sinatra remained close.Mr. Zehme (pronounced ZAY-mee) conducted what is widely believed to have been the last major interview with Johnny Carson, whom he called “the great American Sphinx” and whom the CBS anchor Walter Cronkite called “the most durable performer in the whole history of television” when Mr. Carson retired in 1992 after some 4,500 episodes of “The Tonight Show.”Mr. Zehme’s “Carson the Magnificent: An Intimate Portrait” was published in 2007, but he never completed the full-fledged biography he had planned.The Chicago-born Mr. Zehme was often said to have cultivated recalcitrant sources with his Midwestern charm. His portraits were not hagiography, but neither were they tell-alls, and he remained close to some of the subjects he interviewed, including Mr. Sinatra and Mr. Hefner.“Bill didn’t dig around for dirt or comb through the proverbial closet hunting for skeletons,” David Hirshey, a former deputy editor of Esquire magazine, said by email. “What interested him was more subtle than that. Zehme looked for the quirks in behavior and speech that revealed a person’s character, and he had an uncanny ability to put his subjects at ease with a mixture of gentle playfulness and genuine empathy.”That’s why,” Mr. Hirshey continued, “Sharon Stone covered by nothing but a sheet allowed Bill to interview her while lying side by side as they enjoyed a couples massage.”Mr. Carson, Mr. Zehme wrote in an essay for PBS in conjunction with an “American Masters” documentary on him, “rose to reign iconic as the smooth midnight sentinel king whose political japes and cultural enthusiasms mightily swayed popular taste at whim or wink.” That wink, Mr. Zehme noted, transmitted “surefire stardom to aspiring personalities, especially comedians, and privileged co-conspiracy to regular viewers who became his spontaneous partners in sly mockery.”Andy Kaufman, Mr. Zehme wrote, was “a pioneering practitioner of various cultural trends long before they ever became trends.”Delacorte PressOf Mr. Beatty, Mr. Zehme wrote: “He speaks slowly, fearfully, cautiously, editing every syllable, slicing off personal color and spontaneous wit, steering away from opinion, introspection, humanness. He is mostly evasive. His pauses are elephantine. Broadway musicals could be mounted during his pauses. He works at this. Ultimately, he renders himself blank.“In ‘Dick Tracy,’ he battles a mysterious foe called the Blank. In life, he is the Blank doing battle with himself. It is a fascinating showdown, exhilarating to behold. To interview Warren Beatty is to want to kill him.”Mr. Zehme provided tips from Mr. Sinatra about what men should never do in the presence of a woman (yawn) and about the finer points of his haberdashery: “He wore only snap-brim Cavanaughs — fine felts and porous palmettos — and these were his crowns, cocked askew, as defiant as he was.”“Mr. Sinatra’s gauge for when a hat looked just right,” Mr. Zehme wrote, was “when no one laughs.”He described the unorthodox and at times controversial comedian Andy Kaufman as “the pre-eminent put-on artist of his generation” and “a pioneering practitioner of various cultural trends long before they ever became trends.”William Christian Zehme was born on Oct. 28, 1958, the grandson of a Danish immigrant. His parents, Robert and Suzanne (Clemensen) Zehme, owned a flower shop in Flossmoor, a village south of Chicago and not far from South Holland, where Bill was raised.Mr. Zehme in 2017. “Bill didn’t dig around for dirt or comb through the proverbial closet hunting for skeletons,” a colleague said. “What interested him was more subtle than that.”Loyola University Chicago School of CommunicationHe graduated from Loyola University in Chicago in 1980 with a degree in journalism.One of his first books was “The Rolling Stone Book of Comedy” (1991). In 2004, he won a National Magazine Award for his profile of the newspaper columnist Bob Greene.In addition to Ms. Engstrom, Mr. Zehme is survived by Lucy Reeves, a daughter from his marriage to Tina Zimmel, which ended in divorce; and a sister, Betsy Archer.Mr. Zehme bridled at being identified as a celebrity biographer, although most of the people he profiled had been famous long before he wrote about them. They had not, however, seemed as familiar as next-door neighbors until Mr. Zehme wrote about them.“The celebrity profile is the bastard stepchild of journalism, and I’m embarrassed sometimes to be associated with it,” he told Chicago magazine in 1996.“The truth is, I have never written about a celebrity,” Mr. Zehme wrote in “Intimate Strangers.” “I have always written about humans, replete with human traits and foibles and issues, who also happen to be famous.” More

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    Herbert Schlosser, a Force Behind ‘S.N.L.’ and ‘Laugh-In,’ Dies at 95

    As a top NBC executive, he wrote a memo envisioning the show that became “Saturday Night Live.” He also helped recruit Johnny Carson and oversaw a raft of hit shows.Herbert Schlosser, a longtime NBC executive who put an indelible stamp on the network by negotiating Johnny Carson’s first deal to host “The Tonight Show,” putting “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” on the air and overseeing the development of “Saturday Night Live,” died on Friday at his home in Manhattan. He was 95.His death was confirmed by his wife, Judith Schlosser.Mr. Schlosser was president of NBC in 1974 when he faced a late-night predicament: Carson no longer wanted the network to carry repeats of “Tonight” on weekends. But pleasing Carson, the network’s most important star, led to an inevitable question: What would NBC televise at 11:30 on Saturday nights?Mr. Schlosser wrote a memo in early 1975 that laid out the fundamentals of an original program that would be televised from NBC’s headquarters at Rockefeller Center; would be carried live, or at least taped on the same day, to maintain its topicality; would be “young and bright,” with a “distinctive look, a distinctive set and a distinctive sound”; would “seek to develop new television personalities”; and would have a different host each week.“Saturday Night is an ideal time to launch a show like this,” Mr. Schlosser wrote. “Those who now take the Saturday/Sunday ‘Tonight Show’ repeats should welcome this, and I would imagine we would get much greater clearance with a new show.”A sketch from the first episode of “Saturday Night Live,” seen on Oct. 11, 1975; from left, George Coe, John Belushi, Chevy Chase and Gilda Radner. The formula for the show had been spelled out in a memo by Mr. Schlosser earlier that year.Herb Ball/NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty Images“Saturday Night Live,” originally called just “Saturday Night” — which followed much of Mr. Schlosser’s formula, and which was produced, then as now, by Lorne Michaels — made its debut on Oct. 11, 1975, after Game 1 of the World Series, between the Red Sox and Cincinnati Reds. Mr. Schlosser had attended the game in Boston with Bowie Kuhn, the strait-laced baseball commissioner, and invited him to his hotel room to watch.“He didn’t laugh. And I thought, ‘Well, that’s Bowie,’” Mr. Schlosser recalled in “Live From New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of ‘Saturday Night Live’ as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests” (2002), by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales. “And then after a while, he started to chuckle. And then he’d actually laugh. And I figured, ‘Well, if he likes it, it’s going to have a wider audience than most people think.’”Mr. Michaels, in a phone interview, said that Mr. Schlosser had been a staunch backer of the show.“We wouldn’t have been on the air without him,” he said. “‘Live’ was his idea, not mine. He just believed in the show. He protected it.”Mr. Schlosser, a lawyer, had been an executive in NBC’s business affairs department, where he negotiated programming contracts to carry, among other events, the 1964 Summer Olympics from Tokyo and talent deals like ones with the comedian Bob Hope, whose specials were a mainstay of NBC’s prime-time schedule.“There were always kickers to his deals,” Mr. Schlosser told the Television Academy in an interview in 2007. With each new one, NBC had to buy a piece of land from Hope, one of the largest private landowners in California.“We bought it, got capital gains and never lost money on it,” Mr. Schlosser said.In 1966, Mr. Schlosser was named NBC’s vice president for programs on the West Coast, based in Burbank, Calif. Over six years, he was involved in developing numerous shows, among them some with Black stars, like the popular comedian Flip Wilson’s variety series and “Julia,” a sitcom starring Diahann Carroll as a single nurse with a son. He also hired the first woman and the first Black person to be vice presidents in the department.Flip Wilson, left, and Richard Pryor in 1973 on “The Flip Wilson Show,” which Mr. Schlosser had helped develop.Paul W. Bailey/NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty ImagesMr. Schlosser particularly championed “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In,” a fast-paced satirical series that made its debut in early 1968. It was considered outrageous then for the political and risqué humor of its skits, performed by a cast of future stars including Goldie Hawn and Lily Tomlin.George Schlatter, the executive producer of “Laugh-In,” recalled that Mr. Schlosser had protected him from those within NBC who found the show’s content offensive.“Every Tuesday morning there was a parade into his office — censors, lawyers, bookkeepers,” Mr. Schlatter said by phone. “They’d say, ‘Herb, talk to him.’ Then he’d say to me, ‘I promised them I’d talk to you.’ And he’d say, ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing.’”Herbert Samuel Schlosser was born on April 21, 1926, in Atlantic City, N.J. His father, Abraham, owned a furniture store; his mother, Anna (Olesker) Schlosser, was a homemaker.After serving stateside in the Navy, he studied public and international affairs at Princeton University, graduating in 1949. Two years later, he graduated from Yale Law School.He started as a lawyer with a Wall Street firm, but the insurance work there bored him, and he moved to Phillips Nizer Benjamin Krim & Ballon (now called Phillips Nizer LLP), a Manhattan firm with many film and television clients. That experience led to his hiring around 1957 as general counsel of California National Productions, a film, merchandising and syndication subsidiary of NBC. He later became its chief operating officer before moving to NBC’s business affairs department in 1960.Johnny Carson in his first appearance as host of “The Tonight Show,” on Oct. 1, 1962. Mr. Schlosser had led the negotiations that brought him to NBC from ABC.NBCU Photo Bank, via Getty ImagesAs a lawyer with the department, he led the talks to bring Carson to NBC to replace Jack Paar as the host of “Tonight” in 1962. At the time, Carson was with ABC as M.C. of the game show “Who Do You Trust?,” and ABC required him to fulfill the last six months of his contract.Mr. Schlosser said he had agreed to pay Mr. Carson $2,500 a week (about $21,000 today). But when ABC held up his departure, one of Mr. Carson’s agents made a further demand.“He said, ‘Now that you can’t get him, we want more money,’” Mr. Schlosser recalled in the Television Academy interview. “I said, ‘We’re sticking with our price.’”Mr. Schlosser rose steadily at NBC. He was named executive vice president of the television network in 1972; promoted to president a year later; and named president of the National Broadcasting Company, the network’s corporate parent, in 1974 and chief executive in 1977.“He supported quality programs and had an idea that news was probably the most important thing the networks did,” Bud Rukeyser, a former executive vice president of corporate communications for NBC, said in a phone interview. “He gave news the benefit of the doubt. If news wanted a half-hour to do something, the answer was always yes.”But Mr. Schlosser was ousted in 1978 and replaced by Fred Silverman, who had engineered ABC’s rise to first place in prime-time ratings as its chief of programming.Mr. Schlosser’s standing had been hurt by NBC’s inability to produce a new prime-time hit series the previous season and climb out of third place.Shortly before Mr. Schlosser left NBC, the network presented “Holocaust,” a four-part mini-series that he had greenlighted. It won eight Emmy Awards. His main contribution to the project, he said, was persuading the executive producer, Herbert Brodkin, to change the title of the series, which had been called “The Family Weiss,” after some of its main characters.Mr. Schlosser and his wife, Judith, in 2011 at an event held by the Museum of the Moving Image at the Manhattan restaurant Cipriani. Mr. Schlosser was the museum’s first chairman. Hiroko Masuike/The New York TimesMr. Schlosser didn’t have to go far for his next job: He was named an executive vice president of RCA, NBC’s parent company. His assignment was to develop software for RCA’s SelectaVision videodisc project. Three years later, he was named to run all of RCA’s entertainment activities, which also included RCA Records (but not NBC).He left in 1985 to become a senior adviser at Wertheim & Company, a Wall Street investment bank, as well as chairman of the planned Museum of the Moving Image, which opened in Queens in 1988. He remained there as either chairman or co-chairman until 2013.In addition to his wife, Judith (Gassner) Schlosser, Mr. Schlosser is survived by his son, Eric, the author of “Fast Food Nation”; a daughter, Lynn Jacobson, a former television executive; five grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren.Mr. Schlosser once recalled his certainty that “Saturday Night Live” could be a part of NBC for a long time, just as “Tonight” and “Today” were. Another model of late-night success at NBC under his watch was “The Midnight Special,” a series featuring pop and rock performers, that was broadcast on Fridays after “The Tonight Show” from 1973 until 1981.“NBC had this tradition of succeeding with shows like that,” he told the Television Academy. “To me, it was a no-brainer.” More

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    Does the Job of Talk-Show Sidekick Even Make Sense Anymore?

    Andy Richter reinvigorated the thankless, tired role, but now that “Conan” is going off the air, it’s time to re-evaluate work that was often mired in stereotypes.Several years ago, Conan O’Brien’s talk show did a bit about Andy Richter’s forgetting how to do his sidekick job after a summer break. A woman from human resources has to remind him, “You need to make the host believe in the irrational fantasy that he is the funniest person in the world.” She instructs him, “Laugh first, think later.” More

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    Doc Severinsen Recalls High Notes, Low Notes and Everything in Between

    Doc Severinsen hadn’t been able to practice his trumpet in a couple of days, and by his own admission, it was making him irritable. “I’m getting a little bit antsy,” he said one afternoon earlier this month.Were he not currently conducting a video interview from the kitchen of his home in Tennessee, he said, “By now, I’d have a trumpet in my hand, and I would be pretty much doing that the rest of the day.”Instead the 93-year-old Severinsen was sharing reflections from his life and career as a trumpeter and bandleader of “The Tonight Show” while his companion, Cathy Leach, sat nearby. As he occasionally, instinctually pursed his lips to practice the embouchure he uses on his mouthpiece, he explained that he was a different man when separated from his instrument. In his reedy, rumbling voice, he said, “I don’t become the most pleasant guy to live with.”Audiences got to know Severinsen best during his 30-year run on Johnny Carson’s “Tonight Show,” where he served not only as its musical frontman but also as a flashily attired comic foil to its host, who became a close friend behind the scenes. Carson died in 2005, and his announcer and sidekick, Ed McMahon, died in 2009, leaving Severinsen the most prominent surviving face of that influential late-night show.Over 30 years on “The Tonight Show” with Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon, Severinsen was both musical frontman and comic foil.Douglas C. Pizac/Associated PressNow, Severinsen is pulling back the curtain on his own life in a new documentary, “Never Too Late: The Doc Severinsen Story,” which will make its debut Friday on PBS’s “American Masters.”The film, which is directed by Kevin S. Bright and Jeff Consiglio, chronicles Severinsen’s upbringing in Arlington, Ore., where his father was the local dentist (thus earning his son, Carl, the lifelong nickname “Doc”). The documentary also explores his work as a musician, on “The Tonight Show” and off, and dives deeply into his personal life, his marriages and his family’s history with alcoholism.If the movie uncovers much that viewers didn’t know about him, Severinsen said, “I found out how much I didn’t know, too.”Severinsen spoke further about the making of “Never Too Late,” its revelations and his fulfilling, frustrating obsession with the trumpet. These are edited excerpts from that conversation.You’ve been off “The Tonight Show” now for almost as many years as you were on it. Does that experience seem distant to you now?It does. But at first — and I can’t tell you how long that went on for — I would wake up in the morning and think, Oh, God, I’ve got to get going or I’m going to be late for work. I’ve got to pick out a program of music. Oh, wait a minute — I don’t do that anymore.What keeps you occupied now?I’ve got that jealous bitch over in the corner — the trumpet. And if you don’t pick that baby up and treat it right, you’re going to have nothing but trouble.“All you know is you’ve got to pick out the right music, conduct the band and be ready to talk,” Severinsen said of his time on “The Tonight Show.”Ron Tom/NBCUniversal via Getty Images How were you persuaded to be the subject of a film about your life?Kevin Bright has had a working relationship with my eldest daughter, Nancy. They had renewed their friendship, and Kevin said: “How’s your dad? What’s he up to?” The next thing I know, Nancy’s calling me, saying, “Dad, I spoke to Kevin and he wants to do a documentary.” I laughed and said: “That’ll be the day. No thanks.”What changed your mind?Kevin knew how to handle me. One thing led to another, and all of a sudden we’re sitting in the kitchen, here in this house. I had this feeling of, Why am I doing this? What the hell is going on? Then we started talking and we never stopped.Are people surprised when they see you dressed casually, as you are today, instead of sporting some of your memorable apparel from “The Tonight Show”?The way you see me now, it’s the way I’ve always been. I’ve got a cowboy shirt on and jeans and cowboy boots. I thought I might go riding today — it turns out, that’s not going to happen, but I’ve still got the right clothes on for it.Severinsen, known for his garish outfits on “The Tonight Show,” opts for more muted attire these days.via Just Bright ProductionsSo all that eye-popping clothing you wore on the show was a kind of affectation?It was at first, yeah. It was a desperation kind of a thing. You don’t know when they’re going to talk to you or what they’re going to talk to you about. All you know is you’ve got to pick out the right music, conduct the band and be ready to talk. Because the one thing you don’t want to have happen is, you’re sitting there, [mindlessly] “Oh boy, I sure enjoyed that dinner last night,” and you hear Johnny say, “Isn’t that right, Doc?”Did Carson ever catch you off guard?One time, he asked me to hit a double high-C on trumpet. And I thought, Holy Christ. I knew I was capable of it if I had time to work on it. But somehow, from past experience, I hit that note and did a pretty doggone good job. And I thought, I’ve got to have a finish for this. So I did a take of great pain and reeling around and fell flat on the floor. I didn’t know I was going to do that! Neither did Johnny. It’s all about being in show business, I guess.Is it fair to say there was a kind of friendly one-upmanship in your on-camera relationship with Carson?Well, there was no one-upmanship because we knew who had the one-up. It was mostly me paying attention and trying to fit in. But Johnny, he was an artist. He could produce and write a script in his mind while he’s saying it.“You get out of the trumpet exactly what you put into the trumpet,” Severinsen said.via Just Bright ProductionsCarson had a behind-the-scenes reputation, even among people who worked for him, for being enigmatic or elusive. Was that your experience with him?Well, the only person who could answer that is Johnny. He knows if he’s thinking in his mind about some friend who’s passed away or a secret desire he has to do this or that, or God, I wish I’d had a hamburger for lunch. But he was an extremely bright man. He was friends with Carl Sagan, and he used to love to get together with him and talk about the universe. I’d go out with him on his boat, and we’re sitting there, looking up at night, and he’s explaining the whole damn works up there. There was a lot more to him than he ever let on.You felt you saw a side of him that he didn’t necessarily share with others?I did, and I can tell you right now, I ain’t going to talk about it. [Chuckles.] Us guys, sometimes, when we have real pain — Oh, I wish I hadn’t done that, or I wish I had done that — you don’t get the whole thing.You’re candid in the film about your history with alcoholism — how it ran in your family and how your first wife’s problems with it led to the dissolution of your marriage to her. Were you nervous about sharing this with people?No, I wasn’t nervous because it’s fact. If you’re an alcoholic, you should be one of the first ones to know. Well, I wasn’t one of the first ones to know that I was an alcoholic. My wife at that time, I’ll tell you, I feel sorry for her. I’m not angry over any of it. There I was with three little kids — I’ve got to be Dad, I’ve got to be Mom, I’ve got to be the maid. I’ve got to do it all. And then I have to go over to the police department and say to the guy at the des:, “Listen, if your patrolmen see my wife driving our car — and especially if there’s little kids in there, would you do me a favor? Would you pull her over? And if she’s been drinking at all, take the car from her, take her home and make the kids safe.”“If you don’t pick that baby up and treat it right,” Severinsen said about his trumpet, “you’re going to have nothing but trouble.”Kristine Potter for The New York TimesThere was often a lot of joking about drinking on “The Tonight Show.” Did that make it hard to maintain your sobriety?I didn’t come to work and say, “Now, Johnny, there’s something I’ve got to tell you — I’m an alcoholic, so look out now.” Quite the opposite. And about the time I was just starting out on “The Tonight Show,” I also became aware that if you’re an alcoholic, you’re probably a drug addict also. And I found out that I was. And I said, “Whoa, boy, they’re taking away all my toys.”But you’re better for it.I’ll put it to you this way, I’m alive.What drugs were you using?I don’t even want to discuss it. None of the rock-hard stuff. But close. Very close.Your third wife, Emily, is an on-camera subject in the documentary, and she speaks frankly about how your marriage to her unraveled after your time on “The Tonight Show” ended. Were you concerned about including her in the film?No, I had to trust Kevin on that. If you’re doing something that’s extremely revealing, about private matters, there’s a producer that will make that decision and you’d better figure out how you’re going to live with it. Emily, she’s a very bright person, and fair. She’s — well, I’m in a much better place.You’re happy in your life with Cathy Leach, who is a professor emeritus of trumpet at the University of Tennessee?I don’t know how to describe it. But when I pull the covers up under my chin at night and she reaches over and makes sure that I got my arms covered and I’m all settled and everything’s OK — I don’t want to get into religion, but I thank God she came into my life.Are you still discovering new things about the trumpet?Oh, yeah. But when you pick up a trumpet, don’t think it’s going to be a bouquet of roses the rest of your life. You get out of the trumpet exactly what you put into the trumpet. If you put bad timing and a bad attitude, anything negative at all into the trumpet, it comes right back to hit you in the face.Do you ever have days when you think, I can’t play that damned thing for another minute?Yes, but I don’t call it a “damned thing.” Because the trumpet has the last word. I try to remain respectful of that damned thing. More