Eye-Sproing on Broadway

Animation takes could be pretty exaggerated during the years of World War Two. Take a look at Tex Avery’s Northwest Hounded Police (MGM, 1946 release). By the 1950s, that kind of thing had settled down, as cartoon characters became more stylised. My guess is the take-gag had also become a cliché.

Occasionally, one would pop up in a ‘50s short. The eye gag at the end of Droopy’s Double Trouble (MGM, 1951 release) is my favourite. Here’s one from in Broadway Bow Wow’s, released on August 2, 1954.

The tale is of lovers John and Mary, whose dancing act rises to the top of vaudeville. Then, John gets a look at a femme fatale. Here’s the take.



This short was one of two made by Ray Patterson and Grant Simmons for Walter Lantz. People on the internet claim Grantray-Lawrence made it. Let’s look at the facts. Variety of June 16, 1953 reported Lantz had hired Simmons and Patterson as part of a studio expansion, and mentioned on July 21, 1954 the two had formed Grantray Animation to do commercial work for Robert Lawrence. As the cartoon was released August 2, 1954, there’s no way it could have been made at Grantray-Lawrence.

However, Business Screen magazine’s issue of August 1954 reported the two “have been in the animation business for twenty years. Both were formerly with Walt Disney and later with M.G.M. cartoon studios. Operating as a partnership for the past two years, Simmons and Patterson have been producing television animated commercials and writing and directing theatrical cartoons.”

Buried in the background of one scene is a sign reading “Grantray’s Snake Oil.” There are also signs saying “Garity’s Goiter Pellets” (for Lantz’s studio manager, Bill Garity) and another for “Batchelor’s Eye Wash” (for Mickey Bachelder, Lantz’s chief cameraman). There’s also one for “Avery’s Liver Tonic.” I am assuming that’s a reference to Tex Avery, who was hired by Lantz in December 1953 to be his executive producer, according to the Hollywood Reporter of December 23 that year.

There are no animation credits on the short, but Ray Jacobs and Art Landy handled the backgrounds and layouts, and Dick Nelson got screen credit as John, the narrating dog.

This post will be the last on Tralfaz for the indefinite future.

Operatic Turnabout

Poochini the opera singer gets his revenge on the magician at the end of Magical Maestro by turning the phoney conductor into all the transformation guises he went through during the cartoons. The last one is the Hawaiian war dance (with accompanying magicians rabbits) with the goofy head twists, no doubt animated by Grant Simmons.



There’s nothing else director Tex Avery can do so, logically, this happens.



Rich Hogan helped with the gags and the other credited animators are Mike Lah and Walt Clinton. The cartoon was released in 1952.

Tex Avery's Clementine

“Hey, Bill.”
“What, Joe?”
“Remember how we took Tex Avery’s Southern wolf and turned him into a dog?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, why don’t we take that ‘Clementine’ song Tex used in ‘Magical Maestro’ and give it to the dog?”
“Joe, that would be the Chuckle-berriest!”

Okay, the conversation didn’t go like that. But you have to admit some of Tex’s ideas at MGM were the same as the ones the other unit at the studio put in its TV cartoons when Metro shut down production.

Magical Maestro (released in 1952) is one of Tex’s “revenge” cartoons. Mysto the magician gets revenge on Poochini the opera singer for not buying his magic act. Poochini then gets revenge on Mysto for screwing with his performance of “Largo al Factotum” from Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville” (well, what other opera IS there in cartoons? Unless you’re Bugs Bunny on a plump horse, I mean). Mysto and his wand turn Poochini into all kinds of singers, and the situation is reversed at the end.

Oh, for good measure, Tex and writer Rich Hogan have completely refined a gag from his Warner Bros. travelogue Aviation Vacation (1941) involving a hair getting “stuck in the projector.” Instead of Mel Blanc’s character on screen screaming at an unseen projectionist, Poochini pauses in his act just long enough and casually takes care of the situation.

This is one of those cartoons you have to freeze-frame to appreciate the expressions as Poochini is controlled by Mysto’s wand. Here are a few from the Clementine scene. These two are consecutive.



The next pose is below. No in-betweens to smooth things over. Tex wanted to show the abrupt change in Poochini and does it by making a sudden switch in positions so enabling the singer to go into a little Western song and cowboy stroll while playing the guitar. He walks wide because he is wearing furry chaps and that is how someone wearing them would walk.



Some random frames. The animation is on twos. Tex has the background moving every frame.



Poochini butt.



A look of contentment.



The contentment evaporates. He realises he’s not singing Rossini now.



He shoves the guitar away (while still playing it). He’s seething.



He’s angry now and back to singing “The Barber of Seville.”



Mysto’s rabbits suddenly appear. Tex has them show up here and there during the cartoon so you don’t know when to expect them and are surprised when they appear.



Poochini didn’t expect them. When he realises he’s holding onto those rabbits again, he throws them out of the scene.



Avery comes up with various ways to change costumes back to the tuxedo, some of them using an obscuration gag. That’s what he does here with the oversized cowboy hat.



I believe this is a Grant Simmons scene. Mike Lah and Walt Clinton also animate; I can never figure out Clinton scenes. Judging by the opening scene of the old brick theatre, Johnny Johnsen is the uncredited background artist. And, as you have likely read elsewhere, the orchestra conductor is a parody of MGM musical director Scott Bradley.

This cartoon is full of great little scenes. Far better than this one, in my estimation is Poochini as Carmen Miranda and as the Ink Spots.

Daws Butler should be recognisable as the voice of Mysto. Historian/impressionist Keith Scott went through studio records. People who guess at actors’ identities and get it wrong don’t have to guess who you are hearing in this cartoon any more. Read them here.

Warners has done a wonderful job restoring this short for a BluRay release (as a side note, I am happy their latest version of Car of Tomorrow is minus some very frustrating DVNR issues). You can see unrestored versions of other scenes in earlier posts by clicking on the “Magical Maestro” label to the right.

Wrap the Girl

A sign for Reynolds Wrap morphs into a little girl designed by Gene Hazelton at the start of his minute-long, 1950s TV spot. Here are the drawings; most are on twos.



Grant Simmons is the animator for the Grantray-Lawrence studio. My thanks to Mike Kazaleh for the film and the ID.

Cracking Up Spike

Spike thinks he can get rid of the title character in Garden Gopher (1950) by clobbering him with a sledgehammer. The rodent outsmarts him again, and we get Tex Avery’s cracking-up gag—several times for a change—ending with a mini-Spike tapping his foot in disgust.



Grant Simmons is responsible for this scene, with additional animation by Mike Lah and Walt Clinton. Rich Hogan is the storyman.

Disney had a garden gopher vs. dog cartoon the same year, but you know Tex Avery’s is funnier. Poor Tex gets no respect, though. The theatre ad to the right thinks it’s a Tom and Jerry cartoon. The short was re-released March 22, 1957.