Angry Mickey

Don’t tell the Disney people there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Either now or in 1932.

You wouldn’t think a column in a local newspaper would be worth getting upset about, but it did when it didn’t fit The Gospel According to Walt. And the gospel, in 1932, was that Mickey Mouse was a huge success, beloved by the world.

So it was one of Walt’s Minions took on the writer of a column in the Pittsburgh Press of July 18, 1932. All the writer did was quote another publication. But Walt’s Minion got what he wanted. The writer backed down and instead lauded how great Mickey was. At least he tried to make some humour about the brow-beating.

Mickey Mouse, His Vanity Wounded, Declares War on This Column and Writes Reproving Letter
By KASPAR MONAHAN
MICKEY MOUSE is mad at this column. He rushed into his palatial Hollywood office the other day, whiskers quivering in rage, and plunked down a copy of the June 20 Show Shops.
He was as mad as the M-G-M lion with a sore tooth and did his best to roar in the manner of that benign beast. He bellowed (if a throaty squeak can be called a bellow) and waved the Show Shops column.
“Who’s this guy in Pittsburgh, anyway?” he demanded. “What does he mean attacking a great artist like me by intimating that I'm not the greatest box-office attraction that ever was?”
Several dozen “yes” men turned pale and asked tremblingly of Walt Disney’s creation, “Why, what is it, Mr. Mouse—who's insulted you and how?” “How,” shrieked Mickey. "Why look at this, you dopes. Read it and then pack my bags. I'm going to take the next train to Pittsburgh and when I get there I'm going to do something awful to that Show Shops guy. I’ll swipe his cheese, or something, I will. Gr’r’r!”
The Show Shops column in question gave the results of the nationwide questionnaire sent out to 12,000 exhibitors by Motion Picture Herald in regard to the box-office appeal of the various film stars. Wallie Beery and Marie Dressler led the male and female fields, respectively, with 67 per cent and 91 per cent. But Mickey trailed far behind, and the column said so.
This Raised Mickey's Ire
THE cause of Mickey's great rage was this little innocent paragraph: “Mickey Mouse made a poor showing in the poll, despite all the reported popular interest in his weird adventures. He received but 1.6 per cent—the same rating as Loretta Young, Dorothy Mackaill and Bill Boyd.”
Mickey placed a quivering little paw on that paragraph, swore roundly, then paced back and forth with his hands behind him, fuming and fretting:
“The idea, placing me in the same class with Bill Boyd and giving me a lower rating than those two low comics, Wheeler and Woolsey, when everybody knows my comedy is refined and subtle.
“Gimme pen and ink, Ham, I'm going to burn that feller up in Pittsburgh. I'll tell him a few things. Insulting a great artiste like me, the fathead. Gimme that pen and paper and I'll burn his hide off. Huh!”
But Ham, who is Harry Hammond Beall, Mickey's chief press agent, talked soothingly and wisely.
“Tut, tut, Mickey,” he remonstrated. “Where's your sense of humor? Trying to insult one of these drama editor guys—haw! That's funny and it can't be done. Now you let me write the letter to him.”
“All right,” said Mickey, “but make it strong. Remind him that I once beat the socks off Emil Jannings in a popularity contest in Vienna. And call that Pittsburgher a couple of so-and-so's and a such-and-such. Make it hot.”
“All right, all right. I'll burn him up. Now run along, Mickey, and go to that cheese luncheon with Minnie Mouse.”



Once Beat Emil Jannings
SO HERE is Mickey’s reproving letter as written by the courteous Ham Beall, somewhat contrary to the rip-roaring rodent's instructions: “Although I think you'll agree with me that short subjects are quite vital to the motion picture industry and are saving many a program throughout the nation, they are not getting the recognition they deserve.
“The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences does not offer any medals for short subjects now, but when such an offer was made, cartoons were excluded.
“In the case in point, the Herald contest, Mickey Mouse was not even submitted as a candidate, and the fact that he was ‘written in’ to the extent of 1.6 per cent scarcely indicates that popular interest in him is waning to any great extent.
“I feel that Mickey has made a great showing considering the fact that his name was not on the ballot.
“Mickey won the popularity contest over Emil Jannings conducted in Vienna and on numerous other occasions has topped the list in polls of the motion picture favorites.
“The Walt Disney organization would be delighted if the individuals conducting such contests in the future would include a division of short subjects or sound cartoons, or both, enter Mickey Mouse as a candidate and leave the decision to the public. At the same time it would give a vital part of every motion picture program the deserved recognition.”
A fair letter—and the column herewith apologizes for its unintentional slight to a great little guy whose followers indubitably number as many as those of the Great Greta. I'm for him as a candidate in a short subject contest or even for President.
Censors Are After Mickey
THE LETTER clears up the mystery why he made such a doleful showing in the poll. If the youngsters from 6 to 100 the world over had been allowed to vote, the result might have been a sweeping victory for Mickey.
One of the greatest tributes paid to the impish little fellow came from the two wee sons of Charlie Chaplin—Charlie, Jr., and Sydney Chaplin—when they arrived in New York from Europe en route to Hollywood to act in the films.
Both youngsters declared their favorite movie actor was Mickey Mouse, with his consort, Minnie Mouse, second choice, and their renowned daddy, third.
Further proof of the growing popularity of Mickey is shown in the increasing attention paid him by the high and mighty censors in all countries.
In Ohio, for instance, the censors believed Mickey guilty of moral turpitude or something when he permitted one of his droll herd of cows to read Elynor Glyn's “Three Weeks.”
England's censors were shocked profoundly when a fish with a naughty twinkle in its eye slapped a mermaid on the thigh in one of Mickey's films so the cartoon was banned.
Germany was no less outraged when General Mickey led an army of cats, wearing helmets. German censors also declared that Mickey was suffering with “paranoiacal dementia” in one of his films and barred it from German screens. Sweden would have none of another Mouse comedy because Mickey was “mentally unwholesome.”
Up in Canada the censors ordered that Mickey's herd of cows should have smaller udders.
All this censorship persecution, while annoying to Mickey, is really the finest compliment that could be paid. Censors are not interested in just “nobodies.”