Stick Figures Help Win the War

Chuck Jones employs stick figures in parts of his 1944 look at life on the home front, The Weakly Reporter (released March 24).



“The girdle, that moulder of the Form Divine, has gone to war on the scrap pile,” intones Bea Benaderet. Jones doesn't waste time. By the time the dialogue is finished, so is the gag, and it's on to the next scene.



“More and more,” Frank Graham informs us, “women are filling jobs that, in the past, have been held exclusively by men.” Again, the gag ends with the dialogue. Observe the background. Didn't Jones once quote Leon Schlesinger that "purple is a funny color"?



“Even the army has opened its doors to women,” Graham informs us. And we get a WW2 version of the old rolling pin gag.



Uh, oh. The temptress spy!



Heh. That'll learn that Naz-she! (Stop groaning).

You can see Jones employed stylised backgrounds. Here's one I like.



Hmm. When Jones cuts back to the crowd, the tire has moved. Maybe the kid kicked it.



Actually the tire is on a cel. It is rescued by an ambulance crew, leaving the human to become a war casualty (Tires were valuable as they were rationed due to a rubber shortage).

The Film Daily called the cartoon a "funny satire." The Showman's Trade Review gave it a "good" rating, adding:

A cock-eyed slant on life as it has been lived in war time, Leon Schlesinger offers in this Technicolor number a snappy few minutes of harmless fun that won't hurt anybody and will amuse many. Rationing, transportation, shortages, and women come in for lampooning—to say nothing of Henry Kaiser's method for making ships spring up over night. It is, in short, a burlesque newsreel done in cartoons, and calls for further experimentation along this line. Art work and animation are outstanding.

Opined The Independent’s “Longfellow” on April 14, 1944:

A Merrie Melody that burlesques many of our pet wartime peeves. Contains a fair amount of laughs and should please.

Ben Washam receives the rotating animation credit; there's cop-behind-a-billboard scene I think is his. Mike Maltese provided the story. According to Mike Barrier, Earl Klein came to the Jones unit as a layout artist in 1944, and Bob Gribbroek painted the backgrounds. But if this cartoon was in production before then, Bernyce Polifka would have been the background artist. And Klein was in animation before 1944; he was part of an exhibition of art by members of the Screen Cartoonists Guild in Los Angeles in late November 1943. Prior to that, he was a scenic designer for the Fleischers in Miami and, census returns showing he was in Detroit in 1935, employed by Jam Handy before that.

And, yes, Jones would 114 today. Fortunately, his cartoons live on.

Cheap, Or Not Too Cheap

It’s a shame Jack Benny felt he had to compensate for his radio and TV character. I’ve reprinted a number of articles on the subject and he always sounds a bit resentful. He, at least in my mind, should have just let people think that they’ll think. They’re going to do it anyway.

As it was, he couldn’t satisfy some people.

As intelligent people are reading here, those who are Jack Benny fans know he wasn’t cheap. They know he contributed to charities through concerts and donations. They know he did unadvertised acts of kindness, such as writing to parents of service-members he entertained during World War Two.

Here’s another syndicated column, this time from 1964, on the subject.

Jack Benny Is Really a Spendthrift
By ALAN MITCHELL
North American Newspaper Alliance
NEW YORK, March 6—"When I go to dinner in a large party, I feel obliged to pick up the check," says Jack Benny, who has devoted 30 years to building a reputation as a tight-wad. "Otherwise people may say, 'There goes old sticky-fingers again." I can't leave a normal 15 per cent tip. It's got to be a whopper.
"I pay the top price for everything I buy, even when I know it's on sale somewhere else. Over the year, it has cost me tens of thousands of dollars to prove I'm not really a miser. And every time the cost of living goes up, it gets worse."
Jack, who turned 39 for the 32nd time on Feb. 14, recalled a conversation with a cab driver who took him from New York's John F. Kennedy Airport to his hotel suite. The fare was $5. Jack handed the cabbie a $10 bill and told him to keep the change. "I wish you hadn't done that, Mr. Benny," the driver insisted, pocketing the bill. "Now I'll have to tell my wife you're not really a cheap bum. She'll be disappointed."
On another occasion, during a concert tour, Jack dropped into an all-night diner for a cup of coffee. When it came time to pay the tab, he discovered he had left his wallet it his hotel room. "So you're Jack Benny, eh?" the counterman remarked, watching Jack fumble through his empty pockets. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." The next day, the comic's accountant dutifully mailed a check for $5.10 (including $5 tip) to the counterman.
Jack recalls that this financial Frankenstein began as a one-line joke on one of his first radio programs, back in 1934. The gag got a loud laugh, so the following week there were two "cheapskate" jokes in the script. Soon Jack's stinginess was such a part of his professional personality that when a bandit, in a radio sketch, warned him “. . . your money or your life,” there was no need for further dialogue. The long pause that followed brought down the house.
Recently the comedian's philanthropies have received sufficient publicity to help eradicate the image. In five years, his off-key concerts have raised nearly $4 million for worthy causes, including the musicians' welfare funds of more than 25 symphony orchestras. He is a heavy contributor to CARE, the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund, the United Jewish Appeal and other charities.
But the public guise of a skinflint—on his TV show and elsewhere—still rankles him. "I realize people don't believe I actually have a cigarette vending machine in my living room, or a private vault in the cellar," he said. "But on the other hand, they may think that where there's smoke there's fire."
Not long ago, Jack bought a classic custom-made Rolls Royce for more than $25,000. He rushed to the home of a friend, an antique auto buff, to show it off. But his friend's cleaning woman was unimpressed. "It's terrible for a millionaire like Mr. Benny to be running around in an old car like that," she remarked sourly after he left.
"You see," said Jack, "no matter how much money I spend, I'm still a cheapskate."

By the time this article appeared in print, Jack was in Sydney, Australia for some live performances. That meant his TV shows were on film. The March 3, 1964 episode included an unusual guest star. What looks to be a CBS publicity hand-out appeared in newspapers in advance. (Yes, I know, headline, Beechnut gum).

Zebra in stripe-tease on Benny's program
Kate Smith plays a walk-on part on "The Jack Benny Program" on CBS-TV Tuesday at 9:30 p.m., and doesn't sing a note.
It's not the singing star Kate Smith. It is coincidentally enough a zebra named Kate, whose owner's name is Smith. Thus making her Kate Smith. And she has a claim to fame all her own.
This is the only working zebra in Hollywood. She was shipped to the Mark Smith Stables from her native Africa some nine years ago on a special request.
• • •
"WE FIGURED we could train her," recalls Smith, "but we never realized what a tough job it would be. Zebras are wild animals; we never let ourselves forget that. Where a horse can be gentled to be a friend, and a somewhat domesticated pet, a zebra may turn on you at any given time. She's mighty tricky and we don't trust her a bit."
Both Jack Benny and Joan Staley, who appears in this episode of the Benny show, found out the same thing. While the beast appears gentle for the camera, she was actually kicking up quite a fuss backstage.
"That’s because her buddy isn't here," explained Smith. "Her stablemate is a mule; it's out in the trailer now and when the two of them are separated Kate gets jittery."
• • •
THE SMITHS, who operate stables in the Los Angeles area, figure to import a few more zebras. "Not that there's an overwhelming demand for them to work in Hollywood, but we do get calls for them to make personal appearances. "Because of their scarcity they get more money than horses. And it is easier to work with the real thing than to stripe a horse," he said.

About 25 years earlier, some people had to be assured Jack did not own a polar bear named Carmichael. We hope he wasn't asked the same thing about Kate Smith, the zebra.

A Sugar Coated Pill of Wisdom

The Aesop and Son cartoons on The Bullwinkle Show opened with a saying, followed by a fable based on it, followed by a bad pun on the saying.

The theatrical Aesop’s Fables produced by Van Beuren at the dawn of sound films did it differently. There was a fairly ordinary cartoon, followed by a tag at the end with a supposed saying by Aesop followed by a joke on it. The tag didn’t always have anything to do with the preceding cartoon.

Here’s the one from Tuning In (1929). It’s self-explanatory. Running into the distance was not unusual in Van Beuren (and silent Terry) cartoons. The poor image on the left is Aesop and son.



I believe the last Fables cartoon to have a tag was Good Old School Days (released March 7, 1930). Van Beuren changed its openings and closings in 1930, getting rid of this. . .



. . . and changing the opening from a title card like this . . .



. . . to the animated opening with animals making sounds in time to the music. (Thanks to Steve Stanchfield for the restoration).



Speaking of Van Beuren’s sounds, this article is from the Exhibitors Daily Review of Feb. 28, 1930.

137 SOUND DEVICES USED IN AESOP FABLES
To date the Aesop Fable sound department of the Van Beuren Corporation has accumulated one hundred and thirty-seven sound devices, many of which have been manufactured especially for Fables. These gadgets are the queerest looking bunch of what-nots imaginable, made out of every conceivable material including, cowhide, tin, horn, steel, brass, horsehair, and even the hollowed skull of an ox has been util-ized to provide comedy sound effects in "Singing Saps," a current picture. In this collection are twenty-three varieties of wooden instruments, fourteen of which are used in one scene of "Sky Skippers" which is now in the making. Synchronized noise-making is now a specialized brand of American industry.

The sound editor of Tuning In, who I believe was responsible for adding the effects to the score, was Paul F. Maschke. Carl Edouarde provided the music. Pathé provided the rooster.



Whenever Edourde’s name comes up among old-cartoon fans, it’s usually in connection with a recording session for Walt Disney that has been called a disaster. The Film Daily of September 16, 1929 reported:

Carl Edouarde, music director now is in charge of the synchronization for Aesop’s Sound Fables, the Van Beuren Corp., short subjects released by Pathe. The latest Fables synchronized by Edouarde and his orchestra are “A Jungle Fool” and “The Fly’s Bride.”

Edouarde’s tenure was short. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported on Jan. 26, 1930 that hometown boy Gene Rodemich had been hired to score Van Beuren cartoons and “his first endeavors along this line have already reached the screen”. Edouarde's last credit was on Sky Skippers, released Feb. 14, 1930. The next Fable, Good Old School Days, released March 7, has Rodemich's name.

We may have discovered one of the voices on these early sound Fables. The Film Daily had this on the front page, Oct. 13, 1929:

Van Beuren Corp. will release a series of six song sketches through Pathe. The first will be “Mandalay,” the Kipling story set to music by Oley Speakes. John Stanley [sic] will be featured. He will also sing in “The Trumpeter,” the second of the series.

His name was actually James Stanley. He was a baritone who sang one of NBC’s top shows in the late ‘20s, The Eveready Hour. Whether he appeared in Van Beuren’s cartoons is unclear. The Billboard of May 24, 1930 said Stanley and contralto Margaret Olsen sang in the Song Sketch Voice of the Sea. while the Louisville Courier-Journal, unbylined, mentioned on March 16, 1930 the James Stanley Quartette, otherwise unidentified, was in the song sketch Love’s Memories.

Finally, an unidentified reader mentioned something in the comments I could have sworn had found its way into one of our posts. I cannot find it, so here it is below. Amedee Van Beuren was on his way to or from his honeymoon in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia when he stopped in at the office. Variety’s brief story appeared June 5, 1929:

VAN BEUREN’S MARRIAGE DAY
Amedee Van Beuren a couple of hours after his marriage Saturday, walked into the Aesop Fables headquarters.
In less than five minutes he deposed Paul Terry, the original of the script, and placed John Foster in charge.

Then, the press reported, it was off for a round of golf.

Terry and his cohort Frank Moser could not be stopped. The Feb. 10, 1930 issue of The Billboard reported the Educational Film Exchange, eager for cartoons with the coming of sound, had just closed a deal with Audio Cinema for a new series of animated shorts called Terry-Toons. By 1936, Terry had jettisoned Moser, then got fat and rich from his cartoons. The same year, Amedee Van Beuren got out of the cartoon business and stuck with travelogues for another year. He died at his country home in Carmel, New York in November 1938, age 58.

They're Not Hubie and Bertie

Remember in Mouse Wreckers, how Hubie lowered Bertie on a fishing line down a chimney to play head games with a sleeping Claude Cat?



Wait a minute. That’s not Hubie and Bertie. That’s Jerry and an unnamed mouse in The Year of the Mouse, a 1965 MGM short.

Both cartoons were directed by Chuck Jones and written by Mike Maltese, so the similarities are not coincidental.

The plot is the same in both. The mouse plants something on the snoozing cat, instigates violence, gets pulled up the chimney, and the cat is left to wonder why he is harming himself.

Mouse Wreckers is a far superior cartoon, with stronger gags, including the one where the mice nail everything on the floor to the ceiling. In The Year of the Mouse, Jerry sneaks a gun into Tom’s hands. The trigger has a string attached, which Jerry tugs before being pulled up the chimney. I like the dry-brush colouring after the gun goes off.



The main difference between the two cartoons is Tom figures out what’s happening, catches and imprisons the mice, thereby winning in the end.



Hey, didn’t this happen in another Jones/Maltese Warners cartoon, too?



Jerry’s mimicking of Tom’s expressions gets stale (Why are these mice picking on Tom anyways?). And almost all Mel Blanc and June Foray do in this cartoon is giggle, an incredible waste of their talents.

The animators on The Year of the Mouse are Ken Harris, Ben Washam, Dick Thompson and Don Towsley, with Maurice Noble and Phil De Guard on the Jones team. Gene Poddany provides an original score.

Enough of this. Let's bring on Hubie and Bertie.

Steamboat Toby

Down South, starring Toby the pup, is kind of a cross between a Disney and a Fleischer cartoon. The whole steamboat and rescue-the-girl-friend aspects remind me of a certain Mickey Mouse short. The rest is kind of Bimbo Light.

There’s a series of gags about captain Toby welcoming passengers onto his riverboat. There one where some kind of bird in a top hat lays an egg. A more amusing one is where Toby shakes hands with a kangaroo. A joey pops up out of its pouch. Then a second one. Then the kangaroo turns around and there’s a pouch in the back with another little kangaroo.



The soundtrack includes “Steamboat Bill,” “Old Folks at Home,” and a version of “Mississippi Mud” sung in Minnie/Honey style. Joe De Nat provided the musical score.

Dick Huemor [sic] and Sid Marcus get screen credits. R-K-O released the cartoon, made by the folks at the Charles Mintz studio, April 15, 1931. Art Davis worked on them as well. In 1977, he recalled to historian Milt Grey:

The three of us actually had a piece of it. Each one of us had a contract that, on top of our salary, we were going to get 13 and 1/3 percent of the profits, above a specified amount. But we never got a nickel out of it.

A few Tobys survive for your viewing pleasure. 12 were released, all in the 1930-31 season, though we’ve found ads from 1932 where theatres were still showing them; the ad to the right is from May 14, where it was playing in Kalispell, Montana. The one I’d like to see is Toby in the Brown Derby.