Will the Real Man of Steel Please Stand Up?

Proof of the impact of television compared with the old days of network radio rests in the form of a gentle, six-foot, 165 pound man named Bud Collyer.

He was a constant presence on the radio waves in a variety of genres emanating from the airwaves of New York. He was Superman, even. But even the Man of Steel was no match for the power of television. Only a few stories were written about Collyer in his radio days, almost all of them focusing on how Superman was very active in his church. When television rolled around and he stuck exclusively to hosting game shows, the news stories about him rolled off the presses more often—and faster than you can say “The Daily Planet.”

As a kid TV viewer of “To Tell the Truth,” I liked Bud Collyer. Unlike almost every other host, he didn’t crack a lot of jokes. He was friendly and sincere, kept the focus on what was happening and built the suspense in a genuine manner. Like Collyer, the show wasn’t loud and boisterous. In fact, its lack of noise and lights (other than a “ding” accompanying an “X” that lit up for each vote) and immoveable cameras would be incomprehensible to any game show producer today. But the game was basic and appealing, the celebrities (albeit B-list) were very pleasant, and the string-dominated theme music perked along, originally a library music cue by Dolf van der Linden, then a fine, somewhat similar tune by Bob Cobert. Collyer fit “To Tell the Truth” perfectly.

Let’s dig back through a few newspapers and see what they had to say about Bud Collyer. United Press International published this on July 17, 1960.

Remember Superman?
By DOC QUIGG
NEW YORK (UPI) — Clayton Collyer, a pleasant family man with an outboard motorboat, a 14-room house, and three grown children, has been superintendent of the Sunday school of the First Presbyterian church in Greenwich, Conn., for the last 14 years.
“His term in the Sunday school superintendency now seems certain to break his long-record run in another—and certainly disparate—job. He was “Superman” for 14 years on radio, creating the character and sticking with it until it went off radio in 1952.
His show-business name is Bud Collyer. You know him as the talented moderator of CBS-TV's popular panel show “To Tell the Truth” and as emcee and producer of ABC's “Beat the Clock.” But in the halcyon days of radio, he was all over the place as a soap opera actor and an announcer. His twenty-fifth anniversary in broadcasting is coming up in two months.
* * *
Collyer, a graduate of soap opera, can remember when he thought nothing of playing in four different radio shows — doing the leads in two and running pails in at least a couple more, and announcing on the side. During one 6-month period, he averaged 34 to 35 actual broadcast hours a week, and one day of each week was a 9-show day.
The announcing stints included the Eddie Duchin show on Mondays, the Benny Goodman show Tuesdays, and the Tommy Dorsey show Thursdays. And all the while there was “Superman,” with Bud Collyer shaping his voice into a light baritone for the role of the newspaper reporter Clark Kent and then dropping it as low as he could, at staccato pace, for the role of Superman.
* * *
Collyer, a native New Yorker, paid his way through law school as a radio singer (7:45 a. m., six days a week, accompanying himself on a guitar). Graduated, he practiced with a law firm for nearly two years before deciding, in 1935, to get into network acting.
His sister June Collyer was then a movie star. His mother Caroline Collyer had been an actress.
A nurse tagged him with the name Bud when he was a baby while the family was trying to decide whether to name him after his father, which they eventually did. He has no middle name, and neither, did his children until they were in their late teens.

For a while in the early ‘40s, Collyer portrayed Superman simultaneously on radio and in the cartoons produced in Miami by the Fleischer studio. He had a Fleischer connection of sorts that went back a few years before that. In early 1937, he was a regular on Jack Pearl’s radio show. And so was another young New Yorker known as the voice of Betty Boop and Olive Oyl—Mae Questel. He was hosting a game show as far back as 1943, called “Good Listening” on CBS. “Break the Bank” followed in 1945, “On Your Mark” and “Three for the Money” in 1948 (like “Stop the Music,” it involved calling people at home) and then another show on CBS in 1949. This review is from the Cedar Rapids Tribune, March 17th that year.

There's no limit to the number of rounds a contestant can win or the number of “Winner Take All” programs he may appear on — just as long as he has the right answers.
The format of this new weekday series heard Monday through Friday from 3:30 to 3:45 p.m. features two competing contestants selected from the studio audience. One is furnished with a bell, the other a buzzer, which they sound to indicate that they wish to answer the master of ceremonies’ question. Each correct answer earns the contestant a point, and three points win him a round, a valuable prize and the right to defend his “championship” against a new contender, until dethroned.
Clayton “Bud” Collyer who is the emcee for “Winner Take All” started out to be a lawyer. After graduation from Williams college and Fordham university Law School, he went to work in a New York law firm as a clerk. “I was working for a fast fifteen dollars a week and desk space,” he recalls, “but I found that quite dull.”
“He worked hard in this humble calling for the next two years, but thought there must be some other way to earn more money. While at Fordham, he had earned spending money singing on WCBS and he remembers that the actors and actresses he met at that time made as much money in a month as he could expect to collect in a year at the bar.
In, 1935 Collyer took an audition that landed him a network acting part, although he no longer recalls the name of the program. “This program marked the turning point of my life. I was in radio for good after that,” he says.
The construction of a career in radio acting and announcing comes slowly at the start, and for some time Bud languished in semi-obscurity. In those years he found his own lack of fame a particularly bitter pill because of a family connection. Bud’s sister, June Collyer, was then a well-known movie star. “People were always introducing us as June Collyer and, oh, yes, this is her brother,” Collyer says.
After a while Bud got his recognition. It was while attending a play with his sister June, that her husband Stuart Erwin was appearing in, that Bud experience his long–awaited triumph. A friend introduced them to tome strangers and said, “This is Bud Collyer, and, oh, yes, his sister June.”

How nice of a man was Bud Collyer? Paul Luther wrote in his syndicated radio column of February 28, 1947.

Radio people are mighty proud of the outstanding recognition just awarded one of their top drawer performers. In presenting annual scrolls, the Council Against Intolerance in America has cited Clayton (Bud) Collyer as one of five such persons in America worthy of the honor. That his constant efforts to promote a better understanding among and races and religions should come to the attention of the Council is indeed gratifying. Having known Bud and shared the same mike on many occasions, I concur that no more worthy recipient could have been selected for this signal honor.

Which is something one might expect from Superman.

Alas, while Collyer was a perfect radio and cartoon Man of Steel, he was more like Clark Kent to his kids. This is from the Anniston Star, Wednesday, May 19, 1948:

Clayton “Bud” Collyer, who is radio’s “Superman,” rues the decision now that prompted him to take two of his children, Michael, 6, and Cynthia, 8, to New York’s Central Park Zoo before going to Mutual’s studio for one of the broadcasts of the week-day “Superman”
series 5:15 to 5:30. The Collyer youngsters had never seen a “Superman,” broadcast, and after the show Bud asked his children: “Well, how’d you like it?” The unimpressed youngsters replied with: “Daddy, can you imitate a seal?”

And from Saul Pett’s column from the International News Service, May 29, 1946:

And the fact is that Bud Collyer, who plays “Superman” for Mutual, was fighting a losing battle in his home the other day and appeared to be in clanger of losing a finger until his young son reminded pappa of the “simple directions on the label” and opened a jar of jam for him.

Bud Collyer died after three weeks in a Connecticut hospital on this date in 1969. He was 61.

Magical Maestro Miranda

“Magical Maestro” is a funny cartoon but TV doesn’t do it justice. You use different peripheral vision watching a movie screen than a television set or computer monitor at home. Tex Avery uses that visual effect when he has the magician’s rabbits quickly jump into the action from the sides of the frame. You don’t seem them coming and suddenly they’re there. It’s really funny.

The cartoon is another one where Avery and writer Rich Hogan pitch one silly routine after another, with no time in between. If you don’t know the cartoon, the premise is simple. A magician gains revenge on Poochini the opera singer (Spike) by replacing a conductor and using his magic wand (disguised as a baton) to change Poochini’s costume. The magician’s stylised rabbits (designed by Ed Benedict, I imagine) get in on things wearing their own silly but appropriate outfits.

An opera fan unhappy with Poochini’s act gets into his. He pulls the old vaudeville custom of throwing rotten fruit at the stage.




The fruit lands on Poochini’s head. The magician waves his wand. Poochini is instantly transformed into Carmen Miranda. Below are two consecutive frames. Notice the rabbits already jumping in from the side.




Poochini waves his butt (and actually does a full body turn) and sings while accompanied by the rabbits. Are they wearing turnips on their heads? Here are some of the dance drawings.








Avery keeps building. Poochini lifts his skirt only to reveal a pair of boxer shorts.




Now Poochini’s body becomes immobile, except for his head, which he pokes out from behind different sides of the raised skirt. The rabbit merely pushes the body off stage like it’s a theatre flat, revealing the tux-clad Poochini standing behind it.




How does he grow a second body? Oh, don’t ask. Enjoy the outrageousness instead.

Avery’s down to three credited animators by the time this was released in 1952—Walt Clinton, Grant Simmons and Mike Lah.

The Corny Woodpecker

Some cartoon directors loved having stuff come toward, and then away from, the camera. Bob McKimson did it at the beginning of his directorial career. So did both directors at the Lantz studio in the ‘40s. The effect probably looks a lot better on a movie screen than it does on TV. It works better in some cartoons than others. Many of McKimson’s attempts seem too contrived, like he had to do it whether it suited the action.

Over at the Lantz studio, both Shamus Culhane and Dick Lundy occasionally tossed in perspective shots like that in their cartoons. Culhane’s “The Dippy Diplomat” (1945) is an example.

Woody spots food in the Walrus back yard through a knot hole in a fence.





He reaches through and steals a cob of corn. He goes for another. Wally moves the plate of corn away. And it sweeps toward the camera as he does it. Two frames for each drawing.







Pat Matthews and Grim Natwick get the on-screen animation credits. Thad Komorowski tells me that Matthews did the Woody scene while he thinks Les Kline did the corn part.

Tex? Tash? I Got Jobs

By 1936, the Leon Schlesinger cartoon studio was rising from primordial ooze after a couple of years of poor directors and fair to lousy cartoons. It had some new starring characters it was testing. It had at least one director, Friz Freleng, who knew what he was doing and Leon was on the hunt for more. He changed animated humour for good with the men he picked.

The Film Daily reported on the activities of the Schlesinger studio in its editions of 1936. I’ve gone through them all to pick out most of the highlights. Anyone interested in the what-happened-when aspect of the Schlesinger studio can get an idea of the timeline from these stories. Even people familiar with the studio may be surprised by some of the things here.

January 13, 1936
LEON SCHLESINGER, producer of "Merrie Melodies" and "Looney Tunes," has added a new unit of 25 animators, increasing personnel to 100 people. The new unit is under the supervision of Fred Avery. Eleven cartoon subjects are now in production.

Ray Katz, assistant to Leon Schlesinger, and Mrs. Katz, formerly Johanna Salzenstein of Peoria, Ill., who were married at the Schlesinger's Beverly Hills home, have returned from a honeymoon trip to Palm Springs.

January 15, 1936
LEON SCHLESINGER, under his new three-year contract with Warners, will make annually 13-three-color Technicolor "Merrie Melodies" and 13 "Looney Tunes" in black and white.

February 4, 1936
Schlesinger Introducing Modernistic Line Cartoon
West Coast Bureau of THE FILM DAILY
Hollywood — Leon Schlesinger's next "Merrie Melody" cartoon for Warners, entitled "Miss Glory", will introduce an innovation in that the caricatured backgrounds will be entirely modernistic in line, achieved through an airbrush process. The idea was developed by Leadore Congdon, Chicago artist. Another highlight of the picture, which is in three-point Technicolor and was five months in production, is a typical Busby Berkeley dance sequence revealed for the first time in cartoon animation. A male chorus of 16 voices provides musical arrangement of the song "Page Miss Glory."

April 28, 1936
SCHLESINGER BOOSTS SHORTS LINEUP TO 34
West Coast Bureau of THE FILM DAILY
Hollywood—As a result of a deal negotiated with Norman H. Moray, Vitaphone short subject sales manager, Leon Schlesinger is boosting his 1936-37 cartoon program to 34 subjects, including 18 "Merrie Melodies" and 16 "Looney Tunes", compared with 13 of each in previous seasons. Jack L. Warner has approved plans for the reconstruction of a building which will house all the Schlesinger activities under one roof. Addition of 25 animators to the Schlesinger staff brings the total payroll up to 125.

April 29, 1936
Norman Spencer, composer and director of music for the "Looney Tunes" and "Merrie Melodies" cartoons being produced by Leon Schlesinger, has signed a new three-year contract. His son, Norman, Jr., handles the musical arrangements for the series.

June 24, 1936
Leon Schlesinger's organization is believed to have established a speed record in the making of cartoons. Working day and night, his staff made two "Merrie Melodies" and two "Looney Tunes" in two weeks. The subjects were rushed to the Warner Bros. conventions in Chicago and New York.

August 3, 1936
Carl W. Stallings has been made musical director on the Merrie Melody and Looney Tune cartoons produced by Leon Schlesinger for Warners. He succeeds Norman Spencer, resigned.

August 31, 1936
Leon Schlesinger has signed Frank Tash, former comedy strip artist, to a new five-year contract after spotting the artist's first directorial efforts in "Pokey's Poultry Plant," new Looney Tunes. Short also features the initial work of Karl W. Stallings as musical director.

September 19, 1936
Schlesinger on New Lineup
Hollywood—Leon Schlesinger has started production on the first of his 1936-1937 program for Warner release. A Merry Melodies subject, titled "Boulevardier From the Bronx", and a Looney Tune called "Milk and Money", are in production.

September 30, 1936
In order to make theaters in time for the world series, Leon Schlesinger is rushing "Boulevardier from the Bronx," a Merry Melodies subject, to New York. The cartoon is a satire on baseball.

October 6, 1936
LEON SCHLESINGER has signed I. Freleng to a new contract. Freleng, who is directing the "Merrie Melodies" cartoons, has been with Schlesinger for the past three years.

October 26, 1936
LEON SCHLESINGER, producer of "Looney Tunes," and "Merrie Melodies," entertained at his Beverly Hills home in honor of Frank Tashlin ("Tish Tash") and his bride, Dorothy Marguerite Hill. Miss Hill, who sings on the Shell Chateau program, met Tashlin when she applied for an audition.

November 25, 1936
Schlesinger Drops Deal for New Novelty Series
West Coast Bureau of THE FILM DAILY
Hollywood — The deal whereby Leon Schlesinger was to have produced a series of novelty shorts for M-G-M has been dropped. Schlesinger will concentrate on his "Merrie Melodies" and "Looney Tunes" cartoons.

December 18, 1936
WHO'S WHO IN HOLLYWOOD
LEON SCHLESINGER. Producer of "Merrie Melodie" and "Looney Tunes" cartoons for Warner Brothers and a veteran of well nigh every branch of show business! First contact with theater was as usher at Blaney's Arch St. Theater, Philadelphia, and thence into its box-office. Next at the old Colonial, Chicago, as treasurer, with later years as p.a. and manager for road shows and vaude. First film post was with old Metro Company as salesman out of Chicago. Subsequent affiliations: Inter-Ocean Film Corp., New York; Agfa Film as West Coast sales manager; Pacific Title and Art Studio, which he founded. Then, back in '30, Jack Warner suggested he make a cartoon, with 30-day option for 12 more. It took Warner seven minutes after he saw the first to exercise it. Now has a straight three-year Warner pact.

Some observations...

The Avery story is a little unexpected. Tex told Mike Barrier he thought he arrived at Schlesinger’s around May 1935. At any rate, his first cartoon, “Gold Diggers of ‘49,” was in theatres by November 27, 1935. “Plane Dippy” was next in the production line, followed by “Page Miss Glory” which, according to the clippings, went into production in September 1935. So Avery’s unit (part of which was caricatured in “Glory”) was in operation before the 1936 Film Daily story. Either Leon formalised the existing unit or he added to it.

Evidently Leon had high hopes for Art Deco-styled cartoons but “Page Miss Glory” was it. Avery hated it. He told historian Joe Adamson “I think I was forced to make it.” And Miss (Mrs.?) Congdon remains a Warners mystery.

Chuck Jones used to moan that Leon never associated with the staff but evidently Schlesinger thought highly enough of Tashlin to host him and his bride at the Schlesinger home. If you want to wash the vile taste of Jones bias out of your mouth, read Martha Sigall’s book, which paints a different picture of Leon than the one Chuck spouted to anyone who would listen for years.

Leon fashioned himself as somewhat of a minor film mogul. He produced films with John Wayne in the early ‘30s and had at least one other series of shorts involving organ melodies. So it shouldn’t be a surprise to see he was working on the idea of novelty shorts. What’s interesting is he took the proposal to Metro. Perhaps MGM was looking for another series. Whether they were live action, animated or a combination isn’t clear.

It’s startling to see that Schlesinger signed Norm Spencer to a renewal, only to hire Carl Stalling to replace him a few months later. It could be Spencer left on his own volition. Anyway, it was another stroke of genius by Schlesinger to bring into his fold the man who defined cartoon music. And if anyone still believes Mel Blanc’s story that he only got hired at Warners after Spencer dropped dead, this should put an end to it. (Anyone who has followed Mel’s tales in chronological order knows that the “death” part of the story was a comparatively late, and contradictory, addition). It also settles something I’ve wondered about the pre-Stalling scores. Spencer and Bernie Brown’s music sounds pretty similar. That would make sense, given that Spencer, Jr. was arranging all the scores. I’d be interested to know who Stalling brought in before Milt Franklyn arrived in the late ‘30s.

Conversely, there’s no mention at all of Jack King returning to Disney. Tashlin took his spot as a director.

Unfortunately, there is nothing in Film Daily for the second half of 1935 to reveal staff changes at the studio. And no copies of the publication exist on line for the first half of 1935 or after 1936. The studio still had changes to go through; Bob Clampett and Chuck Jones would be directing within a couple of years and Friz Freleng would have a short career at MGM. But the pieces were starting to fall into place. The studio finally had a starring character in 1936 in the person of Porky Pig. Their biggest stars were only a few more years away.

Bill Anderson is Batman

Batman comes from Walla Walla, Washington.

We’re talking about the guy who played him, not some story line in the comics. Of course, there’s really only one actor who was Batman, and that’s Adam West. (You didn’t think I’d say Val Kilmer, did you?)

Much like Batman had his real identity of Bruce Wayne, Adam West has a real identity, too. He is Bill Anderson to Walla Wallans (Walla Wallanians? Walla Wallites?).

If you weren’t around when the TV show first aired, you may not have an idea of its impact. It was on two nights in a row. Thursday morning, everyone in class—I was in Grade 4 at the time—would excitedly discuss the previous night’s show and what might happen tonight. I pulled for the unhinged villains. Who doesn’t love Cesar Romero? Or Burgess Meredith quacking away? Frank Gorshin’s unique cadence as the Riddler left the impression he wasn’t all there. And there was just something evilly creepy about Liberace as Chandell (some say there’s something evilly creepy about Liberace, period).

But the show started falling apart. Villains got boring (The Archer? Milton Berle?). I genuinely got annoyed when puns got too obvious or if Batman suddenly got out a suspenseful jam just by using his utility belt (“I could come up with that, and I’m 10,” I’d grumble to myself. Honestly). Regardless, the show is a classic. And Adam West has a whole new fan base, thanks to “Family Guy.”

Like almost anyone who shot to fame overnight, West had been working steadily before “Batman.” 1959 was his most maddening year. Let Mike Connolly’s “Mr. Hollywood” column of August 18 tell you what happened.

Chicagoan Bob Conrad got his big break as star of Warner-TV’s new Hawaiian Eye series when the studio decided not to use Adam West in the series, after first assigning West to the role. That happened because West had already starred in the title role of the pilot film for a projected Warner Western series called Doc Holliday. First the Warners decided to scrap ol’ Doc then they decided to hold it till next January and try to peddle it to the Madison Avenue boys then. That's when West got the word to “sit out” all summer. And that’s when Conrad captured the coveted role of the Waikiki sluefoot. And now Fox-TV is trying to borrow West from the Warners for its new Formula for Adventure series but West’s Warner contract is ironclad and the lad is benched till the ad agencies’ collective stethoscope decides on the fate of Doc Holliday!

TV buried Doc on the lone prairie before he even got a chance to fire a six-shooter. But the durable West recovered, though he didn’t seem all that pleased about it. Here’s a syndicated column from February 18, 1962 that appeared in the Hayward Daily Review.

‘Detectives’ Actor
He Wants To Earn Title
By HANK GRANT
HOLLYWOOD—When it was decided early last summer to expand Robert Taylor’s “Detectives” to an hour series, a new detective was added to the cast — Adam West, who previously had been seen on sporadic featured roles on “77 Sunset Strip,” “Sugarfoot,” “Perry Mason” and “Rifleman,” among many other series.
A healthy fan-mail count already attests to the fact that Adam is in a proverbial Garden of Eden, after on-again-off-again voles, co-starring along with Goddard and Tige Andrews just under Taylor's top billing in a steady series.
But, though he loves his series and worships Taylor (“I’m learning so much from watching him”), Adam, admittedly an impatient man himself, paradoxically is annoyed at the method of grooming stars for TV.
“I want to be a star—tomorrow, if not sooner,” he says, “yet I'm rather dismayed about how little the word ‘star’ means today. There (pointing at Robert Taylor) is a STAR, but how many of them are there like him who worked for years in pictures before they became worthy of the star appellation?
“TV has abused the star title to the point where it means less than nothing. An unknown, like myself, can be cast in a series, and—presto!—he is given a star billing. Just read the credits on any TV show, or even a big motion picture, and you’ll have two or three stars, a guest star and even a special guest star two, then comes a long line of co-stars. Whatever became of featured players?
“Me, I’m impatient. I want to be a star in the worst way, but not till I’ve proved myself as an actor deserving of the title. I’d like to have achieved recognition for fine performances in a variety of roles, from sea captain to priest, before they pin a star on me. In fact, it wouldn't be a bad idea if they didn’t allow anyone to be billed as a star until he’d gotten recognition first with an Oscar Award or an Emmy Award.
“It seems kind of silly, being a star just because a producer decides you’re one. In some cases, the actors decide it for themselves. Playing on a football team doesn’t mean you’re the star of the team—your performance decides that. And, when you’re voted All-America or All-Pro, man, that’s being a star!”
Adam’s impatience with the fact he is being considered a star after just two short years of acting work in Hollywood was noted also in his student days. Not satisfied with a variety of courses at the University of California in Santa Barbara, he switched to the University of Washington, then to College of Puget Sound, and finally received his degree at Whitman College. But the degree still left him feeling a lack of achievement, so he moved to Stanford University for postgraduate work in journalism and the theatre.
Following a hitch in the Army, he went to Hawaii where for four years he doubled as performer and director of the local CBS radio and TV station. It was there he met and married a lovely dancer, Ngarua Frisbie, daughter of novelist Robert: Dean Frisbie and a Polynesian princess named Ngatokorus-A-Malaa.
Ngarua is as patient and calm as Adam is impatient and storming. She, he admits has done much to curb his restless drive toward perfection.
For Adam, perfection comes with self-gratification, after a job well done. Without this feeling, rightly or wrongly, he doesn’t want to continue as an actor.
“I’m giving myself five years in Hollywood," he says. “If, after that time, I don’t believe I’ve earned the right to be called a star—even if others say I am—Ngarua and I will go somewhere else, maybe even to the South Sea Islands, and start all over again.”
To this, Ngarua smiled sweetly and said nothing. It was evident to her that Adam was a star from the moment they met.

The Walla Walla Union-Bulletin had a few stories about its native son. Here’s one from November 21, 1965. Remarkably, it seems West almost missed out on his biggest role.

IN HOLLYWOOD
Adam West Steps Into TV Series is ‘Batman’
Don’t look now but Walla Walla's Bill Anderson, better known professionally as Adam West, is star of a new ABC-TV series called “Batman.”
The Whitman graduate and former Walla Walla Little Theater performer is busy preparing a series of episodes about this high-soaring hero at the 20th Century-Fox Studios in Hollywood. The series will debut on Jan. 12 on the ABC-TV network and will be seen each Wednesday and Thursday evening in the 7:30 time slot.
“It’s a show which is basically designed for the young in heart but I imagine these ‘youngsters’ will run in age from 6 to 60,” says West, who explains that the plots are purely adult, often with tongue-in-cheek story lines.
Faced by Decision
Taking on the assignment as “Batman” was a problem to West, who has just returned from Italy where he starred in a successful western drama titled “The Inexorable Four” and was asked by the PEA Production Company to appear in three more of their planned films.
Shortly after his return to Hollywood, he was approached by 20th Century for “Batman” and West won the coveted role over several dozen well known actors in filmland.
Hardly had the ink dried on his contract when he was cabled from Rome to hop the first jet and take over the starring role in “Matchless,” to be filmed in Spain with several of Italy’s top players.
West had to come down from the “Batman” skies long enough to send a cable of regret. PEA replied that they would postpone the film until West was available, so it has been placed on his summer vacation schedule.
Here in Early Fall
West, or Anderson, was in Walla Walla briefly earlier in the fall to visit his father, Otto Anderson, and brother, John Anderson, Waitsburg ranchers. He had just returned from Europe at that time.
West’s career as an actor has been active ever since he was first placed under contract by Warner Bros., after he had established a name for himself as a radio and TV director-performer in Hawaii.
Well-known motion picture agent Lew Sherrell saw him in a legitimate stage production of “Picnic” in Honolulu and went backstage to sign him to a personal contract. Sherrell has guided West’s activities since.
The actor made his film debut in “Colt 45” and worked steadily for the next year in such teleseries as “77 Sunset Strip,” “Sugarfoot,” “Lawman,” “Maverick” and many others.
In between, he sliced a top role in the movie, “The Young Philadelphians.”
In TV Shows
Upon his release from the Warner contract, he went into such top TV shows as “Perry Mason,” “Overland Trail,” “Michael Shayne,” “Bonanza,” “Alcoa Theater,” "Rifleman,” “Beachcombers” and “Geronimo.”
Desi Arnaz liked his work so much that he signed him to do “Johnny Cinderella,” which was followed by the lead in “Rio.” Then came the break all young actors cherish — West was tested for the romantic Sgt. Steve Nelson in “The Detectives” series with Robert Taylor, and he was given the role.
Following this, he was in “Tammy and the Doctor,” with Sandra Dee and “Soldiers in the Rain,” both motion pictures. On TV he was paged for “Petticoat Junction," "Outer Limits,” “Bewitched” and “The Virginians.”
Seen in Movies
Among his recent movie credits are starring roles in “Robinson Crusoe on Mars,” a science-fiction thriller, “Alexander the Great,” a comedy called “The Outlaws Is Coming” and “Mara of the Wilderness.”
Formerly married to Ngarua Frisbee, a Polynesian princess whom he met in Honolulu, he is now divorced which makes him one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors. He lives at the beach at Malibu in an old Mediterranean-type villa where he gets away from his “Batman” characterization by painting, sailing, writing, water skiing and scuba diving.

So what did fans of the Batman comic books think of the TV show? One reporter decided to find out. I haven’t found a copy of the column that has a byline, so all I can tell you is it appeared in papers starting February 4, 1967. I’ll bet this is the same Bruce Roberts who wrote the liner notes for that smash Liberty record album “Jan and Dean Meet Batman” (1966).

Holy Comic Books! It's a Superbatfan
What has 6,000 comic books stored in a closet, can elaborate on Robin’s parentage at the bat of an eye, and never misses an episode of ABC-TV’s “Batman?”
A Superbatfan — what else?
Bruce Roberts, a 24-year-old computer operator from Gardena, Calif., has earned that appellation outstandingly. His extensive knowledge of everything pertaining to the Caped Crusader and his youthful aide amazed, even Adam West (not easily astoundable) on a recent visit to the “Batman” set.
“I’ve collected comic books all my life,” he explained to West, “but I only took it up seriously about five years ago.”
With that he handed West the 1931 “Detective Comics No. 27”—the public’s introduction to Batman. Adam took it with interest and flipped the first page.
“It’s worth $200,” Roberts commented proudly.
West turned the next page slowly, with added respect.
Then he looked through “Detective Comics No. 88,” which introduced Robin and is worth a trifling $75, and “Batman No. 1” (1940) in which the Dynamic Duo branched out on their own.
“I have a complete set of the first 30 “Batman” issues which are worth abont $1000,” Roberts continued. By now, Adam West was transfixed.
As the circle of bystanders silently kicked themselves for having cleaned out their attics, someone asked, “How did all this interest get started?”
“Well, Batman sets an example of physical and mental perfection — he’s a very realistic hero,” Roberts explained.
“He could be harmed, whereas Superman and the others couldn’t be. Superheroes have always appealed to me because the world might be a much better place with a few of them around, don't you think?”
While that significant syncrisis sank into the silent circle, he continued. “In 1954 the Comics Code of Authority ended what I consider to be the Golden Age of comic books. Superheroes are kind of goody goody these days. They can’t even knock a door down, much less wreck a city.”
West asked: “How does the ‘Batman’ series compare with the comics in your opinion?”
“The comic version is not as square as the TV version, but then the series is strictly for laughs. I would resent it if you made absolute fools of Batman and Robin, but that’s not the case.”
With that verdict, it was West’s turn to show his visitor something he had never seen before — an original drawing by Batman's creator. On the wall of the actor’s dressing room is a striking sketch of the Caped Crusader bearing the inscription: “To Adam West, who breathed life into my pen and ink creation. My thanks—Bob Kane.”

West’s Batman was always a very earnest man, not a self-pitying, brooding guy wearing an insecurity-compensating muscle-suit, bathed in black shadows that choke the screen. To the that concept, I say POW! BOFF! EEE-OWW!! I’ll take the fun Batman from Walla Walla instead.

They Keep Killing Bob Denver

The internet’s a great way to spread information. The wrong information.

Twitter went nuts within the last day with the forlorn tidings that Bob Denver had passed away, quoting something from the MSNBC web site. Only thing is, the obituary is from 2005. Some obviously wasn’t reading too carefully and just simply posted a quicky line on Twitter he was dead, and others instantly re-tweeted, blindly accepting anything they see on Twitter as accurate.

Of course, to blame modern technology on misinformation would be, well, misinformation. As proof, and in honour of the Twitter foul-up, here’s a story from the Salt Lake Tribune from June 15, 1961, when Bob Denver first died.

Bob Denver Wonders Who Is Killing Him Off
By Richard O. Martin
“I can say unequivocally, ‘Bob Denver is not dead,’” says Bob Denver unequivocally.
Mr. Denver, of course, is the young actor who stars as beatnik Maynard G. Krebs in the Dobie Gillis series.
The reason Mr. Denver makes such an unequivocal statement is that since last January he has been reported dead more than 36 times in more than 30 states—including Utah.
“At first it was spooky,” he says. “Then it seemed like a gag. When it kept up, it made me somewhat angry.
“Now, well, I’m still angry. I know it’s no gag. And it isn’t spooky. It’s frightening,” he says.
THE REPORTS of his death generally come when someone calls a newspaper and asks: “Is it true Bob Denver is dead?”
In fact, several of these calls have come to The Tribune over the past five months. And Salt Lake City has been reported among the places where Mr. Denver met his demise, along with being shot down in a New York gun battle or killed in a Montana auto crash.
“Fortunately,” says Mr. Denver, “these tips aren’t true.”
THE REPORT of Mr. Denver’s death most widely circulated is that he was electrocuted while taking a bath when a radio fell into the water.
“I don’t know how it all started, who’s doing it or where it comes from,” he says. “I just know I wish it would stop. I'm going broke.”
The drain on Mr. Denver’s pocketbook comes from the fact that at each report of his “death,” he is forced to get on the long distance telephone to assure his relatives in the East he is still kicking.

Bob Denver is remarkable in that he was immensely popular on a TV series, then did a second series and was even more popular. Maynard Krebs on “Dobie Gillis” is almost a footnote compared to his starring role on “Gilligan’s Island.” People loved the show because it was completely unassuming. The characters were basic and you could laugh with and at them. Therefore, people accepted the ridiculous situation they saw on the screen every week. Mind you, it was an era where viewers bought talking horses, mother-cars, witch-wives, Martian roommates and sexy genies. Here’s a story from the National Enterprise Association that appeared in papers starting January 6, 1966.

Bob Is A Nut And He Always Will Be One
By DICK KLEINER
Hollywood Correspondent
Newspaper Enterprise Assn.
Bob Denver has renewed his license — the one that comes with being an actor. And that is the license to be nutty.
He thinks that is one of the greatest advantages of his career. People, he says, will accept nuttiness and non-conformism from actors, where they almost expect it and are disappointed
if a little nuttiness isn’t forthcoming.
And Bob Denver, the hero of CBS’ Gilligan's Island, is a bit on the nonconforming side to start with. So it isn’t hard for him to give the public what it wants in the way of nuttiness.
“Most of the time now,” he says, “I wear western clothes. Even to parties.”
He has a beautiful new deerskin shirt and he wears it almost everywhere, accompanied by boots and blue denims. He says everybody wants to know where he got the shirt (at a western store in Santa Monica) and feels it admiringly.
Another nutty thing. One Friday day he and his wife thought that it would be kind of fun to go to Hawaii for the weekend. So they went to Hawaii for the weekend. They left Saturday morning and they were back Sunday night.
Bob Denver is like that. He admits that he and money have only a passing acquaintance.
“With me,” he says, “it isn’t easy come, easy go. It’s hard come, easy go. My business manager has given up on me. He knows I'm hopeless.”
Besides things like weekend trips to Hawaii, Bob just bought a new house. It wasn’t the house itself which was so expensive—although no house around Los Angeles is cheap — but the Denvers did it all over.
“We should have waited,” Bob says, “but we didn’t want to. So we didn’t.”
The house is in Topanga Canyon, not far from Malibu. It sits in a two-acre oak grove and this is pretty wild country. It's only a 35-minute drive Studio City, where Gilligan’s Island is shot, but it could be 1,000 miles or a century in time away.
“I can walk up above my house,” Bob says, “and look down into Santa Ynez Canyon and there’s nothing and nobody — just a bunch of hawks flying around.
“One night I woke up and I heard a weird screaming, threw on my pants and went outside and I saw this cougar walking across our property. He was screaming, trying to something to run so he could chase it down. My two dogs just watched and scratched — they weren’t about to go there.”
Bob likes to go camping with his kids, and he likes to ride — he owns a horse which he keeps in a nearby pasture.
Happily, he can afford to indulge himself in these things. Gilligan’s Island rolls along merrily and so does Bob Denver. He has his choice of two motion pictures to do during the show’s coming vacation period. And then it’s back for another year, at least, with the other marooned islanders.
So the criticism which been heaped on the show—only the public seems to like it—doesn’t really bother him.
“Some man,” Denver says, “came up to me and said, ‘That’s a ridiculous show.’ I said, “I’m glad you like it. Sure it’s ridiculous — it’s meant to be ridiculous and silly.”
So Bob Denver laughs all the way to Hawaii — for the weekend.

I’m not sure what Bob thought about Kleiner’s column. I’m still waiting for him to tweet me about it.

Run Over By a Streetcar

“And if that ain’t the truth, I hope—I hope I get run over by a streetcar!” says the wolf to a sceptical jury of wolves (and one skunk) in “The Trial of Mr. Wolf.” And that’s what happens.
It’s a gag used a couple of times in cartoons but you’ve got to admire Friz Freleng’s pacing here. No sooner does the wolf say his line than the streetcar roars over him. It takes less than a second (24 frames).
Here’s one foot (16 frames) of action, all on ones.


















Dick Bickenbach is the credited animator. I can’t tell you who was handling layouts for Friz at the time (1941).