Former Game-Show Hosts Disagree About Scandals

PASADENA, Calif. - "Dotto" and its host, Jack Narz, were the saber-toothed minnows of TV's shocking game-show scandals.

Two generations later, it's the high-profile shows we remember. "Twenty One" and its hugely popular contestant, Charles Van Doren, were dramatized in the acclaimed 1994 film "Quiz Show." And "The $64,000 Question" beat all comers, even "I Love Lucy," to become the No. 1-rated show of the 1955-56 TV season.

Both big-money shows were disgraced and canceled in the fall of 1958 after their producers admitted giving contestants answers in advance.

America supposedly lost its innocence amid Van Doren's $129,000 in winnings on "Twenty-One." President Eisenhower called it "a terrible thing to do to the American public."

Which returns us to CBS' little-known "Dotto," the first game show ensnared in the scandals. Its abrupt cancellation, after the Aug. 15, 1958, broadcast, triggered a widespread investigation of the game-show industry. "Twenty-One" and "$64,000 Question" soon wilted under the heat. Their respective hosts, Jack Barry and Hal March, since have passed away, leaving only Narz to explain what happened and why.

Meanwhile, Tom Kennedy, also an estimable game-show host and Narz's younger brother, is increasingly troubled by his unrepentant defense. Their impromptu give-and-take is both unexpected and, according to Kennedy, unprecedented.

"This is the first time we've had this conversation," Kennedy, 72, tells Narz, 76, as they sit with a reporter in a hotel reception area.

Their interviewer warily saves the scandal questions until last, not knowing whether Narz will have any stomach for them. But Narz seems eager to vent his feelings after acknowledging that "Dotto" "blew the lid off everything."

It all began, he says, when a "disgruntled contestant" asked one of the show's producers whether some "Dotto" players knew the answers before game time. Rather than 'fess up, the producer "lied," says Narz.

"He should have just said, `Yes, that's the way we do shows. You write scripts for movies and plays so you know where they start, what happens in the middle and how they end. You do that to make it exciting. We do the same thing with game shows.' There was nothing illegal about it. There was no law against it."

Kennedy tries to interject - "Yes, but Jack . . ."

But Narz continues: "And they could have buried it with a (small-print) disclaimer. Have you ever tried to read a disclaimer at the bottom of a car ad?"

This is more than Kennedy can take. "I have to jump in," he says. "The thing they should not have done is to lead people to believe it was spontaneous. That was a lie. That was wrong."

"Well," says Narz, "there are two ways of looking at that. How are you going to make your show exciting?"

Kennedy: "How the hell are they doing it today? How have they been doing it ever since (network) standards and practices came in?"

Narz: "Are you gonna try to tell me that on some of these shows today, people on the panel are not given answers ahead of time or being told what to say?"

Kennedy: "Only if they say they are (on a show such as Hollywood Squares)."

Narz, with emphasis: "Only if they say they are. All we had to do on `Dotto' was say we were doing it. If you tell people you're doing it, what's wrong with it?"

Kennedy: "But they didn't tell people."

Narz: "I know. But if they had, then this whole thing wouldn't have happened."

Kennedy: "This is the first time we've had a free exchange on this subject. And I couldn't disagree with you more. But that's the way it goes."

Narz: "Yep."

And that's the end of it. Although their exchanges are sharp, the two never raise their voices. Civility is indispensable to a TV quizmaster, and both brothers still have it to spare as latter-day ambassadors of cable's Game Show Network.

"When someone comes to your home, you do whatever you can to make them comfortable," says Kennedy, who hosted quizzes ranging from "You Don't Say!" to "Name That Tune" to "Whew!" "If you have that kind of graciousness, you have all the qualifications you need to be a game-show host."

"Well spoken," Narz agrees.

Both brothers were born in Louisville, Ky., and began in radio before joining the game-show boom that stretched from the 1950s through the '70s. Narz was the pacesetter.

"He was in radio and telling me how much fun he was having," says Kennedy, who initially aspired to be a mechanical engineer. "And how much money he was making."

"Fifty dollars a week," says Narz. "I was smitten with show business from about age 3. I could never see myself working in an office or being an accountant or a businessman or a salesman."

Kennedy eventually had the more successful game-show career, while Narz - tainted by "Dotto" - struggled to regroup in clunkers such as "Seven Keys," "Video Village" and "I'll Bet."

"I know in my heart that my career was changed by `Dotto,' " Narz says, clearing his throat to keep his voice from breaking.

Kennedy's last network game show was "Wordplay," which left NBC in 1987. Narz hasn't hosted one since CBS' "Now You See It," which died in 1975. By the 1980s, the genre no longer was the cash cow of daytime TV, although prime time lately is home to the Regis Philbin-hosted "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?"

"It was a sea change," says Kennedy. "It wasn't that game shows faded out as much as talk shows and soaps faded in."

There are still a few juggernauts, namely "Wheel of Fortune," "The Price Is Right" and "Jeopardy!" Kennedy praises them as "good, clean and intelligent." He's otherwise underwhelmed.

"They're racier, they're faster, some of them are better and some of them are worse," he says of latter-day game shows. "They deal too much with bedroom and bathroom humor. I hate to sound like a prude, but it turns me off." Narz nods his head in agreement.

Kennedy and Narz are now retired, living in California and proud of the distinction they share.

"We're the only game-show brothers that I know of," says Kennedy.

"The only ones," Narz concurs.

Yep.