Robert Benchley
Robert Charles Benchley (September 15, 1889 – November 21, 1945) was an American humorist, drama critic, and actor known for his affable, self-mocking style that blended everyday ineptitude with sharp observation.[1][2] Benchley developed his comedic voice at Harvard University, where he wrote for the Harvard Lampoon, and later emerged as a founding member of the Algonquin Round Table, a daily luncheon gathering of New York wits in the 1920s.[1] His literary output included humorous essays and columns for Vanity Fair—where he briefly acted as managing editor—and The New Yorker, capturing the absurdities of modern life in collections that influenced subsequent generations of satirists.[3][4] Transitioning to film, Benchley starred in dozens of short comedies and features, most notably originating the instructional parody series with The Treasurer's Report (1928) and winning an Academy Award for Best Short Subject for How to Sleep (1935), which exemplified his persona as a bumbling everyman.[5][6][7]Early Life
Family Background and Childhood
Robert Charles Benchley was born on September 15, 1889, in Worcester, Massachusetts, to Charles Henry Benchley and Maria Jane Moran Benchley, known as Jennie.[8][9] His father, born in Worcester, worked in various capacities that supported a prosperous middle-class household, while his mother hailed from Webster, Massachusetts.[10][9] The family traced its roots to old colonial stock, with Benchley's great-grandfather Henry L. Benchley noted as an early ancestor.[11][12] As the second son, Benchley grew up idolizing his older brother, Edmund Nathaniel Benchley, born in March 1876, in a household that had been a trio for thirteen years prior to his arrival.[13][14] The brothers shared a close bond in their Worcester childhood home, where Robert was the pampered younger sibling amid a stable family environment.[11][10] Details of Benchley's early years remain sparse, as he later recounted them primarily through humorous anecdotes rather than factual narratives, reflecting a penchant for exaggeration even in personal reminiscences.[15] His upbringing in late-19th-century Massachusetts provided a conventional foundation, marked by the security of a middle-class family without evident hardships beyond typical familial dynamics.[16][10]Brother Edmund's Death
Edmund Nathaniel Benchley (March 3, 1876 – July 1, 1898), the older brother of Robert Benchley, was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, to Charles Benchley, a policeman, and Jane M. Moran Benchley.[17] He attended Worcester's Classical High School before entering the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1894, graduating in April 1898 amid the outbreak of the Spanish-American War.[18] Commissioned as a second lieutenant in the 6th U.S. Infantry Regiment, Benchley was deployed directly to Cuba, landing near Santiago de Cuba in late June 1898.[19] On July 1, during the Battle of San Juan Hill, his company advanced at dawn against fortified Spanish positions; Benchley was fatally shot while leading troops on the front line.[13] [20] His body was later recovered and interred at West Point Cemetery.[21] The 22-year-old's death profoundly affected the Benchley family, particularly nine-year-old Robert, who had idolized Edmund and initially emulated his path before the loss instilled lasting pacifist leanings.[22] Biographies attribute Robert's aversion to militarism and war-themed humor to this trauma, with his mother reportedly lamenting the war's futility upon receiving the news.[12] [11] Edmund's sacrifice is memorialized in Worcester at Benchley Square.[17]Education
Benchley attended Phillips Exeter Academy in Exeter, New Hampshire, for his senior year of high school, entering in 1907 with financial support from Lillian Duryea, the fiancée of his deceased brother Edmund.[23][13] This enrollment followed his earlier education in Worcester, Massachusetts public schools, though specific prior institutions remain undocumented in primary records.[22] In 1908, Benchley enrolled at Harvard University, where he pursued studies leading to his Bachelor of Arts degree, conferred in June 1912.[23][15] During his undergraduate years, he contributed humor pieces to The Harvard Lampoon, gaining election to its board of editors in 1910, an experience that honed his satirical style and foreshadowed his professional writing career.[24][25] His Lampoon involvement included collaborative efforts with peers, emphasizing parody and absurdity, though academic performance details, such as major or grades, are sparsely recorded beyond his extracurricular prominence.[26]Personal Life
Marriage and Family
Benchley married Gertrude Darling in 1914, with whom he had been acquainted since childhood in Worcester, Massachusetts, where they attended school together.[27] The couple's first son, Nathaniel Goddard Benchley, was born on November 13, 1915, in Newton, Massachusetts.[28] Their second son, Robert Charles Benchley Jr., was born on August 26, 1919, in Bronxville, New York.[29] Gertrude Darling Benchley managed the family household, including periods in Scarsdale, New York, while supporting Benchley's irregular career pursuits amid his involvement in New York City's literary and theatrical circles.[30] The marriage endured until Benchley's death in 1945, after which Gertrude lived until 1980.[6][31] Both sons pursued creative professions: Nathaniel Benchley became a humorist, novelist, and journalist, authoring works such as Sailor’s Holiday (1948); Robert Benchley Jr. maintained a lower public profile but shared familial literary inclinations.[28] Nathaniel's son, Peter Benchley, later achieved fame as the author of Jaws (1974).[25]Health Struggles and Lifestyle
Benchley's lifestyle was marked by excessive alcohol consumption, which intensified after he began drinking at age 31 in 1920 during Prohibition-era speakeasies.[32] As a central figure in the Algonquin Round Table's social scene, he embraced a bohemian routine of late nights, witty banter, and frequent imbibing at establishments like the Ritz Bar in Paris and New York hotels, often prioritizing conviviality over moderation.[33] Despite awareness of its risks—famously quipping upon a warning of alcohol's slow lethality, "I'm in no hurry"—he persisted, viewing drink as integral to his creative and social milieu.[33] This habit exacerbated health issues in his early fifties, culminating in a cirrhosis diagnosis that he largely ignored, continuing to drink amid worsening symptoms.[34] Ironically, Benchley had earlier written pieces cautioning against alcoholism's perils, such as essays decrying its physical toll, yet personal indulgence overrode these insights.[35] His condition reflected broader patterns among contemporaries in literary circles, where heavy drinking was normalized but causally linked to organ damage and diminished vitality. On November 21, 1945, Benchley collapsed in his room at the Royalton Hotel in New York City from a cerebral hemorrhage, dying hours later at age 56 in Columbia University's Harkness Pavilion.[6][34] While the immediate cause was hemorrhage, medical consensus attributes it to long-term effects of alcoholism, including vascular strain from liver disease, underscoring how his lifestyle choices precipitated premature decline despite professional success.[36]Professional Career
Early Journalism
After graduating from Harvard University in 1912, Benchley initially pursued employment outside journalism, including a position in the advertising department of the Curtis Publishing Company in Philadelphia from 1912 to 1914.[6] He was dismissed following a prank at the company's annual dinner, where he disguised himself as a critic named "Mr. Constantine" and delivered a satirical performance.[22] Subsequently, from 1914 to November 1915, he served as welfare secretary at the Russell Paper Company in Boston, organizing employee activities amid financial difficulties that led to his termination.[22] Benchley's entry into journalism occurred in January 1916 when he joined the New York Tribune as a reporter earning $35 per week.[22] He soon transferred to the Tribune Magazine, the newspaper's Sunday supplement, where he wrote features and reviews until the publication folded in May 1917.[22] During this period, he advanced to associate editor of the Tribune's Sunday Magazine and later edited the Sunday Tribune Graphic in 1917, marking his initial foray into editorial roles focused on humorous and cultural content.[6] Following the Tribune's magazine cessation, Benchley briefly worked as a press agent for theater producer William A. Brady from May to July 1917, a role he found unfulfilling.[22] His early journalistic output at the Tribune emphasized light-hearted pieces, laying groundwork for his later humor writing, though the position ended amid wartime disruptions and publication changes.[22] In 1917–1918, ineligible for the draft, he served as wartime secretary to the Aircraft Board in Washington, temporarily shifting from media work.[6]Vanity Fair Period
In May 1919, Frank Crowninshield, editor of Vanity Fair, appointed Robert Benchley as managing editor at a salary of $100 per week.[12] Benchley shared these duties with Robert E. Sherwood, focusing on injecting humor into the magazine's sophisticated content through parodies and satirical pieces that mimicked Vanity Fair's own style.[27] [37] Benchley's contributions included whimsical essays on diverse subjects, such as "The Dullest Book of the Month" in April 1919, where he awarded Thorstein Veblen's economic treatise the "crown of deadly nightshade" for its opacity.[38] In December 1919, he published "The Social Life of the Newt," a fanciful exploration of amphibian habits rendered in mock-scientific prose.[39] These works exemplified his technique of exaggerating mundane or esoteric topics for comedic effect, often rewarding contributors with bonuses for aligning with his irreverent vision.[37] Benchley's tenure lasted approximately seven months, ending in January 1920 when he resigned alongside Sherwood in solidarity with Dorothy Parker, who had been dismissed as the magazine's drama critic.[40] [10] The departures stemmed from perceptions that Parker's removal resulted from her critical reviews offending advertisers or theatrical interests, underscoring conflicts between editorial freedom and commercial pressures at the publication.[41]Algonquin Round Table
The Algonquin Round Table emerged in June 1919 when theatrical publicists John Peter Toohey and Murdock Pemberton arranged a luncheon at the Algonquin Hotel to welcome back critic Alexander Woollcott from World War I duty, initially as a lighthearted roast that evolved into daily gatherings of wits.[42] Robert Benchley, serving as managing editor of Vanity Fair at the time, was among the early invitees alongside colleagues Dorothy Parker and Robert E. Sherwood, integrating the group's journalistic circle into its core.[42] These weekday lunches at the hotel's Rose Room attracted a rotating assembly of approximately a dozen to twenty regulars, including columnists Franklin P. Adams and Heywood Broun, playwright George S. Kaufman, and editor Harold Ross, fostering an environment of rapid-fire banter and satirical exchange.[43] Benchley's contributions emphasized his signature style of affable, understated absurdity, often targeting pretension in theater and society; his presence helped define the group's reputation for gentle mockery over malice.[10] A pivotal moment came in 1922 during the one-off revue No Sirree!, organized by Round Table participants, where Benchley delivered "The Treasurer's Report," a solo skit lampooning muddled nonprofit accounting through deliberate confusion and non-sequiturs, which drew enthusiastic acclaim and propelled his shift toward performance.[3] This piece, later adapted into a 1928 short film as one of the earliest all-talking comedies, underscored Benchley's knack for transforming verbal disarray into entertainment.[44] The group's dynamics influenced Benchley's career trajectory, notably his recruitment by Ross as drama critic for The New Yorker upon its 1925 launch, where his columns echoed the Round Table's irreverent tone.[43] By the late 1920s, attendance waned as marriages, professional demands, and relocations—such as Benchley's growing Hollywood interests—dispersed members, effectively ending the formal lunches around 1929.[45] Despite its brevity, the Round Table amplified Benchley's visibility, cementing his role in shaping mid-20th-century American humor through collaborative sharpening of ideas among peers.[10]The New Yorker Era
Benchley began submitting pieces to The New Yorker shortly after its founding in 1925, initially providing humorous essays, sketches, and commentary that aligned with the magazine's witty, sophisticated tone.[46][27] Over the next few years, his contributions grew in frequency and variety, encompassing topical humor and absurdist observations that helped define early New Yorker style.[47] In 1929, Benchley was appointed drama critic for The New Yorker, resigning from his similar role at Life to take the position, which he maintained until 1940.[48] His reviews, often infused with self-deprecating wit and a reluctance to dismiss flawed productions outright, emphasized entertainment value over strict aesthetic judgment; for instance, he praised shows like the circus for their unpretentious appeal while critiquing Broadway's pretensions.[49][48] This approach reflected his broader persona—genial yet discerning—contrasting with more acerbic critics of the era, and his columns conveyed a mature, informed perspective without pomposity.[49] Benchley also authored the "Wayward Press" column under the pseudonym Guy Fawkes, running intermittently from 1929 to 1939, where he lampooned journalistic excesses and inconsistencies in newspapers, drawing on his editing experience to highlight absurdities in reporting and layout.[50] These pieces critiqued the press's sensationalism and errors with ironic detachment, influencing later media commentary.[50] By the late 1930s, as his Hollywood commitments intensified, Benchley's regular output tapered, though he continued occasional submissions into the early 1940s, totaling nearly 300 pieces overall.[46] His tenure solidified The New Yorker's reputation for literate humor, with Benchley's work bridging literary criticism and entertainment.[49]Writing and Humor
Style and Techniques
Benchley's humor relied on a colloquial, conversational style that mimicked extemporaneous speech, often adopting a self-dramatizing persona of a genial yet fumbling everyman confronting the banal absurdities of daily life. This approach employed narrative patterns akin to personal anecdotes or confessions, eschewing formal structure for loose, whimsical progression toward unexpected, surreal conclusions.[51] His essays typically built from trivial premises—such as reviewing a phone book as a novel populated by "five hundred thousand characters, each one deftly drawn"—to amplify everyday irritations into elaborate, mock-serious dilemmas through gentle satire and observational wit.[46] Central techniques included irony, parody, and understatement, delivered in an upbeat, playful tone known as "crazy humor" prevalent in the 1920s. Benchley frequently used irony to undercut pretensions, as in denying the existence of places like Budapest or Bucharest to satirize superficial knowledge, or imagining Paul Revere's disillusionment with modern taxes to expose historical ironies.[46] Self-deprecation permeated his work, portraying the narrator as an affable incompetent whose failed attempts at expertise—whether in journalism or advice-giving—highlighted universal human foibles without malice.[51] This deadpan absurdity avoided overt intellectualism, prioritizing relatable exaggeration over analytical depth, which Benchley himself viewed skeptically as diminishing humor's spontaneous effect.[52] In critiques and essays, irony served as a signature tool for dissecting media or social conventions, devastatingly exposing manipulations through humorous deflection rather than direct confrontation.[53] His parody often targeted self-important institutions or fads by inflating them to ridiculous proportions, fostering a sense of shared outsider perspective that united readers in laughter at the familiar chaos of existence.[46]Major Works and Essays
Benchley's major works consist primarily of essay collections drawn from his columns in periodicals such as Vanity Fair, Life, and The New Yorker, where he honed a style of self-deprecating, observational humor targeting everyday absurdities and human folly.[8] His first book, Of All Things (1921), compiled 22 essays originally published in outlets including Vanity Fair and Collier's Weekly, establishing his reputation for whimsical takes on mundane topics like social etiquette and personal mishaps.[54] This was followed by Love Conquers All (1922), a similarly themed volume that satirized romantic conventions and domestic life.[55] Subsequent collections expanded his scope, often illustrated by Gluyas Williams's caricatures that amplified the textual irony. Pluck and Luck (1925) gathered essays on perseverance and chance, while The Early Worm (1927) explored productivity myths through exaggerated personal anecdotes.[8] 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, or David Copperfield (1928, Henry Holt and Company) parodied literary classics and adventure tales in a metafictional vein.[56] By the 1930s, My Ten Years in a Quandary and How They Grew (1936) assembled 105 essays, becoming a bestseller that reflected on midlife confusions with titles like "No Pullmans, Please!" and "Mysteries from the Sky."[57] Later volumes included After 1900—A Traveler's Guide (1938), which lampooned modern travel and technology, and posthumous compilations such as Benchley Beside Himself (1943) and Chips off the Old Benchley (1949), the latter reprinting over 100 pieces from his New Yorker tenure.[58] These works, totaling around 15 collections, prioritized brevity and understatement over punchlines, influencing subsequent humorists by prioritizing relatable exaggeration over partisan commentary.[8]| Title | Publication Year | Notable Features |
|---|---|---|
| Of All Things | 1921 | 22 essays from early columns; debut book.[59] |
| Love Conquers All | 1922 | Satire on romance and society.[55] |
| Pluck and Luck | 1925 | Essays on fate and effort.[8] |
| The Early Worm | 1927 | Critiques of routine and ambition.[8] |
| My Ten Years in a Quandary and How They Grew | 1936 | 105 essays; bestseller on personal dilemmas.[57] |
| After 1900—A Traveler's Guide | 1938 | Mock guide to contemporary life.[8] |
Reception and Critiques
Benchley's humorous essays and columns garnered widespread acclaim during his lifetime for their concise wit and relatable absurdity, with contemporaries at The New Yorker and the Algonquin Round Table viewing him as a master of "comic brevity."[60] E.B. White recalled eagerly seeking out his pieces, praising their succinctness, often under 1,500 words, while Wolcott Gibbs noted that people were "mysteriously improved" in his company, reflecting the charm that infused his writing.[60] James Thurber later lauded collections like Chips Off the Old Benchley (1940) for exemplifying this brevity, positioning Benchley as a key figure in 1920s "crazy humor."[61] Critics appreciated his second-person "you" style, which universalized everyday frustrations, distinguishing it from more introspective approaches like Stephen Leacock's, though some heavier literary reviewers underrated him for favoring short-form satire over expansive narratives.[60] Benchley himself harbored doubts about the value of his humorous output, viewing it as trivial despite its commercial success and editorial enthusiasm from figures like Frank Crowninshield, leading to an internal conflict where he aspired to more scholarly pursuits but persisted due to financial necessity.[22] In drama criticism, detractors faulted his amiable, self-deprecating persona for softening judgments, as seen in reviews where he prioritized personal blunders over trenchant analysis.[53] Posthumously, Benchley's work has endured for its whimsical sharpness, influencing humorists like Bob Newhart through authentic, upbeat absurdity that contrasts with neurotic contemporaries, though modern readers may respond with polite recognition rather than outright laughter amid shifting comedic norms.[46] Walter Blair highlighted the "neurotic charm" in his protagonists, underscoring a satirical mastery drawn from middle-class observations, yet early reviewers of Of All Things! (1919) suggested his wit could benefit from sharper focus on broader societal issues rather than isolated absurdities.[62][63]Film and Performing Career
Entry into Film
Benchley's transition to film stemmed from his established reputation in humorous stage sketches and essays, particularly his 1922 Broadway performance of "The Treasurer's Report," a satirical routine mocking financial presentations that he delivered as a fumbling lecturer.[51] This piece, which highlighted his deadpan delivery and self-deprecating everyman persona, caught the attention of film producers amid the rapid adoption of synchronized sound technology following Warner Bros.' The Jazz Singer in 1927.[51] In 1928, Fox Film Corporation adapted the sketch into a short subject, marking Benchley's screen debut and one of the earliest sound comedies to leverage a performer's verbal wit over silent-era physical gags.[64] The success of The Treasurer's Report—a one-reel short running approximately 10 minutes—prompted Fox to contract Benchley for five additional two-reel comedies that year, including The Sex Life of the Polyp, where he again portrayed an inept expert expounding on absurd topics.[64] These early films preserved the structure of his live routines, with minimal sets and reliance on Benchley's monologues, which often devolved into comedic chaos through ad-libs and prop mishaps.[51] Produced under the studio's short subjects division, they targeted vaudeville audiences transitioning to cinema, capitalizing on Benchley's prior theater experience, such as his 1923 appearance in Irving Berlin's Music Box Revue.[64] Though Benchley initially resisted full-time screen work, preferring his prose contributions to magazines like The New Yorker, the brevity of shorts suited his episodic humor and required less commitment than features.[51] By 1928's end, he had completed six Fox shorts, establishing a template for his film output that emphasized intellectual satire over slapstick, though he briefly returned to writing before resuming film appearances in the early 1930s with studios like Universal and RKO.[64]Short Films and "How to" Series
Benchley starred in and often wrote approximately 48 comedy short subjects between 1928 and 1945, initially for Fox and later for MGM and Paramount, where his deadpan delivery and self-deprecating humor adapted his essayistic style to visual gags and monologues.[51][7] These films typically featured him as an everyman fumbling through mundane scenarios, emphasizing situational comedy over slapstick.[65] The "How to" series, primarily produced by MGM from 1935 onward, formed the core of his most acclaimed short film output, parodying earnest instructional reels by depicting Benchley as a pompous yet inept expert dispensing comically flawed guidance on routine tasks.[7] The inaugural entry, How to Sleep (1935), showcased him attempting to demonstrate insomnia remedies while succumbing to exhaustion himself, earning the Academy Award for Best Short Subject (One-Reel).[7][65] Subsequent installments extended this formula to topics like etiquette, sports, and domestic chores, with Benchley's monologues blending verbal wit and physical awkwardness to highlight human folly.[7] Key films in the series included:| Title | Release Year | Studio |
|---|---|---|
| How to Sleep | 1935 | MGM |
| How to Break 90 at Croquet | 1935 | RKO |
| How to Train a Dog | 1936 | MGM |
| How to Vote | 1936 | MGM |
| How to Behave | 1936 | MGM |
| How to Be a Detective | 1936 | MGM |
| How to Start the Day | 1937 | MGM |
| How to Figure Income Tax | 1938 | MGM |
| How to Raise a Baby | 1938 | MGM |
| How to Read | 1938 | MGM |
| How to Watch Football | 1938 | MGM |
| How to Eat | 1939 | MGM |
| How to Sub-Let | 1939 | MGM |
| How to Take a Vacation | 1941 | Paramount |