Lum & Abner

I’ll admit: I approached *Lum & Abner* skeptical that 1930s radio humor would hold up. Five minutes in, I was cackling at a bit about a ‘scientific’ weight-loss tonic that involved drinking kerosene. That’s the hook—this isn’t polished, punchline-driven comedy. It’s the sound of two men riffing like jazz musicians, where the humor emerges from Lum’s blustering confidence and Abner’s long-suffering exasperation. Goff’s delivery as Abner is a revelation: a slow, molasses drawl that makes even the most outlandish schemes (like turning a chicken coop into a tourist attraction) feel plausible. Lauck, as Lum, is all huff and no follow-through, a con artist who’d fail at selling ice in July—but you’d still buy from him just to hear the story. The pacing is where this shines and, occasionally, stumbles. Some sketches drag—particularly the ones leaning on period stereotypes that haven’t aged well—but the best segments (like the ongoing saga of the ‘Jot ’Em Down Store’) are tight, episodic gems. The production values are raw by today’s standards, but that’s part of the charm; you can *hear* the actors suppressing laughter, the live audience reacting a beat late. My only real critique? The track selection leans heavily on the duo’s later years, when the gags got broader. I’d have loved more of their early, sharper satire. Still, for fans of *Prairie Home Companion* or *The Goon Show*, this is a time capsule worth cracking open—just don’t expect slickness. Expect two old friends making mischief, and inviting you to pull up a chair.