Norm Crosby, I'm disappointed in you

Warning: This post will reveal the identity of the surprise guest on Sunday night's second episode of "The Comedy Shop" on RTV. I take it as a given that all of you are watching, of course, but I don't take it as a given that you have all seen it. Many viewers no doubt like to savor their "Comedy Shop" episodes, perhaps saving them for the end of the week.

'The Comedy Shop" is maybe the cheesiest oddball addition to the new-look RTV. It's an odd blend of standup, kitsch, and pop culture time capsule, and I'm hooked.

You get a beautiful Super Seventies set and theme song, and one of comedian Norm Crosby's "best friends" opens the show. Then Norm does a few jokes, and the rest of the half hour is comedians coming out and doing something like 3-minute sets. Reaction shots show the crowd in stitches even when (maybe especially when) whatever is on stage isn't all that uproarious.

This tells you all you need to know about the series: RTV has aired a total of maybe 8 episodes. The Unknown Comic has already been in two of them.

My favorite part of the show comes near the end when it's time to introduce the special surprise guest. "The Comedy Shop" even steals the "enter through a door" part of this gimmick from "The Dean Martin Show" despite not having a semblance of any set other than the comedy stage, so you get a phony door just so the Big Stars can make their grand entrance and introduce the final comedian.

Now, say what you will about Norm Crosby and his malapropism, but the guy sells the hell out of every aspect of the show. Every cut to him in the wings shows him laughing enthusiastically or giving a thumbs up to whoever is out there. But he really shines when the surprise guest arrives. Then Norm is a reliable hysterical presence on camera, "breaking up" at the banter from the mystery big shot.

The best moment of Crosby's exuberance is that moment when he opens the door and shouts out the name of the celebrity. "Jim Nabors!" "Hey, Ed McMahon!" Each guest gets a wild reaction. When Joey Bishop walked through the door, Norm acted like John F Kennedy had come back from the dead and joined him on the stage.

This is why Norm let me down last week, though: An icon of that era strode through the doorway, a man who deserved a colossal Crosby reaction, a sure Cultureshark Hall of Famer when I establish it (I'm eying a prime piece of real estate for it, but, you know, this damned economy), and Norm was uncharacteristically low-key.

How could Norm Crosby not sell the spectacular entrance of another Norm, for crying out loud? That's right, the man who got the unwarranted tepid response was the great Norman Fell.

I'll be watching tomorrow night, Norm Crosby of 40 years ago--I'll always be watching "The Comedy Shop"--and if a celebrity of similar stature arrives on the stage, I'll be looking for your standard over-the-top reaction. It's too late for Norman Fell, but it's not too late for another legend to get the kind of acclaim he deserves.