Midnight ‘Madhouse’ : TV Host Cheers Insomniacs With Music, Yesterday’s Stars

Nick Edenetti, the Johnny Carson for severe insomniacs, was smoking. So was his first guest, journeyman actor Ben Frank. The exhaust fumes from their cigarettes blanketed their ruddy faces like a dense fog.

“So,” said Edenetti, the smoke trailing from his lips as he turned to face Frank, “what’s it like working with Charlie Bronson?”

“Oh, he’s beautiful,” said Frank, blowing an equally impressive cloud into the air.

Smoke plays a big part in the “All Nite Show,” a freewheeling five-hour television program that broadcasts live during the unlikely hours of 1 to 6 a.m. on Sundays. Edenetti’s world is one in which ashtrays are filled faster than water glasses and coughing essentially goes hand in hand with breathing.

But, hey, no one ever said this was prime-time television. When it’s later than late and darker than dark and most people are sleeping, a man can do as he pleases, even if it means blowing smoke rings until doomsday.

“The secret to success is being yourself,” Edenetti said. “People have to like you and you have to like yourself. I don’t put on airs.”

What Edenetti mostly puts on his program are his old pals from show business--people who share his appreciation for an earlier era. Who you were is far more relevant than who you are when it comes to landing time on the “All Nite Show.” As Steve Allen once told him, “This is just like the ‘50s, Nick.”

Perhaps that’s why Edenetti’s program stands out against the broad backdrop of television chatter shows. While other hosts fill their chairs with people who are hot, Edenetti contents himself with those who are slightly warmed over. He would gladly trade 10 Madonnas for just one Connie Stevens.

“This show is different,” said Edenetti, 49. “Let Johnny Carson get the Dolly Partons and Burt Reynolds. I go for the ones that people remember.”

Edenetti’s five-hour foray into time-warp television arrives by way of KSCI-TV, an independent West Los Angeles station that usually broadcasts foreign-language programs. The “All Nite Show” caps a Saturday lineup that includes “Bombay Broadcasting Network” and “Tokyo Housewives.”

Guests start arriving at the tiny studio next to the San Diego Freeway near Olympic Boulevard about 12:30 a.m. On a recent night they included singer Hank Ballard, comedian Stu Gilliam, the Amazing Kalamar, actress Eve Plumb and the Swaggart Brothers, Trinidad natives who perform psychic photography.

Edenetti could be seen stalking the hallways in his suede jacket as his publicist, Lou Condrone, frantically typed out the guest introductions.

“This is going to be a great show,” Condrone had said a few days earlier. “These people have thousands of years of show business experience among them.”

However, there were problems as show time approached. James Bacon, Pat McCormick and Chuck McCann, Edenetti’s cohorts who are supposed to provide the show’s “madhouse” atmosphere, were not there. All three had taken a powder.

The resourceful Edenetti called an old friend named Jimmy Allen at home and woke him up. Could he come to the studio immediately and fill in? Sure.

With seven minutes until air time, a sleepy-looking Allen took the chair next to Edenetti’s and practiced his opening lines. Edenetti, who had changed into a black sport coat with a black and red striped tie loosened at the neck, paced across the cramped set that contained a desk, a row of chairs, some plants and a three-piece band set against a solid sky-blue backdrop.

At three minutes until show time, Edenetti picked up his microphone and asked the stage crew for a sound check. When his request went unanswered, the eyes of the host of the “All Nite Show” narrowed.

“Tell ‘em to drop everything,” Edenetti told his producer, Candy Castillo. “I want a sound check now!”

The star was accommodated, and as the television lights went up and the introductions were made, he could be found next to a piano with his three-piece combo singing “After the Loving” in a voice that was made to croon.

Nick Edenetti became one with show business 30 years ago. The New York City native was driving a cab in Miami in 1957 when Joe E. Lewis, one of the hottest comedians of the time, stepped in for a ride. Lewis took a liking to the young Edenetti and made him his regular driver when he was in town.

As they became friendly, Edenetti started trying out his material on the comedian and Lewis eventually helped land him a job at a local night club, a place Edenetti describes as a “really high-class strip joint.” The job provided Edenetti with a chance to sing and tell jokes and do impressions.

“I caught the bug,” Edenetti said. “And I’ve been bugged ever since.”

The first portion of Edenetti’s show is called “Nick’s Celebrity Hour.” It was obvious from the moment Ben Frank walked onto the “All Nite Show” set that he and Edenetti were simpatico. Both have knocked around Hollywood for years, Edenetti as an entertainer and Frank as an actor in motion pictures and television shows. Both have had their ups and downs. And coincidentally, both appear in the latest video from the heavy-metal band Motley Crew.

Frank and Edenetti, who were cast as detectives, spent most of the interview talking about the alien world of rock music videos. In the end they agreed that they had enjoyed working together, even though both hate rock music.

“They should make more love songs,” Edenetti said wistfully.

Ironically, Edenetti’s next guest was a star from the early rock ‘n’ roll era. Hank Ballard of Hank Ballard and the Midnighters composed such seminal classics as “The Twist,” “Work With Me, Annie” and “Annie Had A Baby.”

As Ballard took his seat, Edenetti realized that his put-down of rock music might have been ill-timed. “You came up with the good rock ‘n’ roll,” the host quickly told Ballard. “Not that screaming stuff that we have now.”

Ballard, a pencil-thin man with a youthful face, accepted the explanation and went on to talk about his touring schedule. Then he showed a clip from a recent appearance. Jimmy Allen, meanwhile, proved he had what it takes to fill the second chair by nodding convincingly whenever Edenetti looked his way.

‘Madhouse’ Segment

At slightly before 2 a.m., the director signaled that the first hour of the show was ending. Edenetti thanked his guests, then dashed off to his dressing room to prepare for the second segment of the show, which had been described as a “madhouse filled with the funniest comedy stars in the business.”

Edenetti emerged for the second hour in a gray jacket and a black-striped tie, singing “Send in the Clowns” in honor of his comedic guests.

“We have the greatest people in the world watching this show,” Edenetti said as he took his seat beside Allen, who was starting to look more alert.

Edenetti’s first two guests were Stu Gilliam, a pipe-smoking comedian who talks in a wildly exaggerated tone of voice, and Finis Henderson, a young comic actor who does impressions.

The two were talking about their careers when Sly Stone, leader of the popular 1960s rock group Sly and the Family Stone, walked into the studio and took a seat in the back of the room.

Edenetti acknowledged Stone and tried to get him to join them on the set. When the singer declined, he was prodded into coming up anyway and sat between Gilliam, Henderson and Allen.

Stone was practically silent during the rest of the segment. However, Gilliam recalled the times they had played Las Vegas together and the conversation got around to the subject of staying up late.

“People should understand there are those of us who actually function like this,” Gilliam said, as the hour neared 3 a.m.

Edenetti is clearly one of them. While the technical people were starting to look weary, the host appeared to be gaining momentum. As the second hour ended he grinned into the camera and delivered his not-yet famous signature line:

“Remember everyone out there in TV land, only you can turn me on.”

Edenetti, a trim man who sports a thick Brooklyn accent and gold pinky rings on both hands, turned out to be a pretty popular guy in Miami. His appearances at strip clubs led to hotel gigs, and in the late 1960s, he moved to Los Angeles, becoming a regular performer at nightclubs, hotels and theaters and occasionally landing roles on television and in motion pictures.

But it was not until 1986 that Edenetti really hit his stride. That was the year he wrote and staged “Sinatra,” a 90-minute tribute to Ol’ Blue Eyes that played for some 38 weeks to packed houses and glowing reviews.

“Sinatra is marvelous,” said Edenetti, who has yet to perform the show for his idol. “I learned to walk, talk and everything else through him.”

“Sinatra” gave Edenetti the confidence to pursue his dream of being the host of a television talk show. When the stage play ended in January, he spent more than five months putting the financing together. The “All Nite Show” went on the air on May 30. Shortly afterward, however, the money ran out and the program disappeared for four weeks while Edenetti worked to get his house in order.

“We went off the air because of technical difficulties,” Edenetti said. “Technically we didn’t have any money and it was difficult to raise it.”

As the third hour of the “All Nite Show” began at 3 a.m. Edenetti was again at his piano. This time he was wearing a tan jacket and singing “More.”

When he finished, Jimmy Allen, who also sings, took a turn at the microphone before taking his seat for “Nick’s Variety Hour,” the segment of the program that is supposed to feature “female impersonators and novelty acts.”

This particular show was lacking in female impersonators, however. Edenetti’s first guest was Rhonda Shear, an actress outfitted in a tight spangled dress.

The actress spent most of her air time talking about a female comedy review she is promoting. The live audience, meanwhile, which had consisted of about 15 people sitting on folding metal chairs in the small studio, was starting to thin.

Shear exited about 3:30 a.m. and was followed by Rosie Hamlin from the musical group Rosie and the Originals, who lip-synced the words to “Angel Baby.” Edenetti and Allen then rounded out the hour by performing a duet of “On a Clear Day.”

If Edenetti was tiring he still was not showing it. But others were. The remaining guests on the show sat in a small waiting room, picking at wilted hors d’oeuvres and staring zombie-like at the monitor that carried the show.

In late, late, late night television, the commercial line-up never changes. So by 4 a.m. the same ads for seltzer water, furniture and used cars had already been aired about 20 times.

Edenetti usually stayed at his desk during the breaks, discussing technical glitches with the director and producer and trading quips with the staff. There were times when the screen went blank, or when the lighting was too dark or when guests accidently blocked the cameras. But Edenetti kept his cool, indicating that he understood the limitations of live television.

Grace Under Pressure

Cool is something Edenetti respects. Like his hero, Frank Sinatra, he conveys an attitude of nonchalance in the face of pressure. This was especially evident as he began the fourth segment, called “Nick’s People on People,” by singing “Summer Wind.”

If the singing was pure Sinatra, the talking was pure Edenetti. When he and Allen tried some banter both went blank and wound up discussing patriotism. They agreed that America is a great place. Then Edenetti introduced a magician who calls himself Kalamar.

Kalamar looked into his crystal ball and told Edenetti that his Sinatra tribute, which is being revived, will be a great success.

Edenetti told Kalamar and Allen that he is not feeling as young as he used to. “What I used to do all day long takes me all day long to do,” he said, winking at the camera.

Kalamar was followed by Kenny Ellis, a comedian, and Bond Bradigan, an actress who will appear with Edenetti in the “Sinatra” revival. As the hour came to a close, Kalamar walked into the audience and predicted the future.

Nick Edenetti has big plans for the “All Nite Show.” The program is already available in greater Los Angeles, San Diego and Las Vegas. Next he wants to syndicate it nationally and take it on the road for an extended tour.

Edenetti also has designs on other facets of television. He has written pilots for a soap opera set in the Old West, a situation comedy based on his years spent hanging around Schwab’s Drug Store, a quiz show and a dance show for people who would rather sway to Vic Damone than the Pet Shop Boys.

The immediate future holds one other change for Edenetti. This week he will start broadcasting by remote from the Las Palmas Theatre in Hollywood.

“I feel like a sardine now,” Edenetti said. “Soon we’ll have room to breath.”

The final segment of the “All Nite Show,” which kicked in at 5 a.m., is called “Nick’s Odds and Ends Hour” and is billed as a “potpourri of interesting informative and talented people such as UFO hostages, a 350-pound pin-up girl and bands made up of farm animals.” The hour started with Edenetti in yet another gray jacket, singing his heart out to “My Way.”

Then it reverted to a talk show as Edenetti brought out Eve Plumb, a young actress best known for playing the middle daughter on television’s “Brady Bunch” many years ago. Plumb talked at length about her work with a live comedy troupe, and Edenetti confessed that he has never been a fan of slapstick.

By 5:20 a.m. it was time to introduce Christine Coleman, a singer whom Edenetti had spotted in a local night club. Coleman chatted a bit about her singing career, performed something in French, then moved over as Edenetti brought out his final guests for the morning, Trinidad’s Swaggart Brothers.

The Swaggarts are two young performers who are supposed to practice the art of psychic photography, taking pictures of things before they happen. But while both were armed with their cameras, there were no demonstrations.

Instead, the two brothers mugged at the cameras until Coleman capped off the show by singing a chirpy rendition of “Some Day My Prince Will Come.” Then, five hours and several dozen cigarettes after it began, it was over.

As the lights went down and the remaining guests drifted into the early morning mist and the food was packed away, Edenetti still looked fresh.

“I don’t get tired until a few hours after the show is over” he explained later that week as he sat in his cramped Hollywood office. “The adrenalin builds from the 1 a.m. bell until 6 a.m. . . . Every hour is a turn-on.”