Showing posts with label Magical Maestro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Magical Maestro. Show all posts

Saturday, 7 January 2023

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.

Tuesday, 17 March 2020

Maestro, Not Magical

The maestro launches the symphony orchestra into “Largo al factotum” from Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville” in Tex Avery’s Magical Maestro (1952). Most of the animation in the scene is on ones. Here are some of the frames. See how the hand shapes are drawn.



The conductor’s design is heavily borrowed from MGM shorts musical director Scott Bradley (though Bradley is shorter).

The maestro’s place is taken by Mysto the magician, who puts the singer through a funny hell.

Rich Hogan helped Avery with the gags and the animation is by Walt Clinton, Grant Simmons and Mike Lah. I don’t know who did this scene.

Wednesday, 20 September 2017

The Not-Quite Ink Spots

The Ink Spots were a tremendously popular singing group in the early ‘50s. So it was they were parodied in that wonderful Tex Avery cartoon Magical Maestro (released 1952).

An opera goer, unhappy with all the magical morphing happening on the stage, sprays Poochini with fountain-pen ink. Suddenly, he turns into Bill Kenny, the lead singer of the Spots, crooning Burton/Adamson’s “Everything I Have Is Yours.”



Next comes an anvil (who doesn’t bring an anvil to an opera and carry it up to a balcony?) which flattens Poochini to sound like the guy who did the talking bass vocal in the Spots. (The real one was lower and wasn’t as froggy sounding as you hear in the cartoon).



The magician’s rabbits jump back into the scene. One sprays off the ink, the other carjacks Poochini up to regular size for the next gag.



Scott Bradley (or his arranger) was really ingenious here. The Ink Spots were known for harmony vocals behind a solo guitar; that’s what you hear in this cartoon. And Avery and writer Rich Hogan were smart enough to know they needed a break from the magician pulling tricks on Poochini, so they introduced the angry patron in mid cartoon.

I couldn’t tell you who is doing the Ink Spot imitations.

Tuesday, 29 March 2016

Poochini Ballerina

The comic transitions are quick in Tex Avery’s masterpiece Magical Maestro. A scene where Poochini changes into a ballerina lasts five seconds, enough for the silliness of an opera singer doing a little ballet dance to hit the audience, then it’s on to the next gag.

Here are some poses.



Avery once said it took five frames for an anvil to drop from the sky and hit something, and the action would still register on the audience. It takes five frames for the tutu to drop to the floor. He sets up the suddenness of the drop by keeping Spike with his arms up in the air for 14 frames, although there is a little bit of movement so the movie isn’t static. Avery was as much a master of animation timing as anyone else.

Friday, 11 September 2015

Clementine a la Avery

Several years before Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera put the song “Clementine” in the mouth of a televised blue hound inspired by Tex Avery’s Southern wolf, Avery put the song in the mouth of opera singer Poochini (Spike) in the great cartoon Magical Maestro.

Avery’s mastery of timing is in full view in this wonderful short as a revengeful magician, disguised as a conductor, uses his magic wand, disguised as a baton, to transform Spike into all kinds of things in mid-performance on the stage.

In one sequence, Spike is turned into a nasally cowboy singer, whining out “Clementine.” Here are consecutive frames.



Cowboy Spike walks around on the stage as he sings. Evidently, he’s in cowpoke ecstasy as his eyes are closed. Note the high leg kick. These drawings are consecutive but were shot on twos, with the background moved slightly in the second shot.



In mid syllable, Spike realises he’s been transformed. These are consecutive frames. Look how subtle the expressions are. None of these big-eyed takes that Avery was known for. Avery knew they wouldn’t work in this cartoon. All the changes in character/costume had to be organic so as not to interrupt Spike’s performance.



While the main plot is going on, Avery and storyman Rich Hogan toss in a continuing element—the magician’s rabbits keep popping up. And always when you least expect it. Consecutive frames again. You can see from the mouth and body language that Spike’s annoyed his performance keeps getting screwed with.



Spike needs six drawings on twos before he realises the rabbits are back. He tosses them away elegantly, befitting someone in the high-brow profession of opera singer.



Avery and Hogan had to find new ways to get Spike back into his evening clothes after each transformation. They’re all imaginative. Here’s what they did in this scene.



My wild guess is the scene was animated by Grant Simmons. I’ll accept any correction.

I can’t say this is my favourite Avery cartoon but I’ve posted at least a half dozen times about it and there’s always something to admire.