Squirrel Swirl

Tex Avery specialised in crazy takes, and you can find some in “Lonesome Lenny” (released in 1946). But there’s a neat little piece of animation where Screwy Squirrel jumps out of Lenny’s hands, swirls in the air, then lands on him. Here are 12 consecutive frames after some anticipatory drawings of Screwy.



Avery’s early team works on this one—Ray Abrams, Ed Love, Preston Blair and Walt Clinton. Mark Kausler, who knows these things, reports the scene is by Love. Backgrounds are by Johnny Johnsen.

Regurgitated Benny

There’s an irony in John Crosby’s syndicated newspaper column of October 12, 1952. It’s about how Jack Benny thrives using the same old routines. Crosby felt he couldn’t make his point using the same old writing. He came up with a new gimmick.

The 1952-53 season was Jack’s third. In a way. His first year on television, he appeared only four times, then six the following season. He expanded to eight in 1952-53. It’s a far cry from 39 weeks of radio every year. Once a month, he spelled off Clinton Fadiman’s panel This is Show Business and then Ann Sothern’s Private Secretary. Fadiman’s show suffered irreparable damage after panelist George S. Kaufman had the audacity on the December 21st broadcast to criticise the ubiquitousness of Christmas music.

The Benny broadcast discussed in the column aired October 5th.

Jack Benny, Second-Hand
By JOHN CROSBY
I’ve been a devotee of Jack Benny and a scholar of his methods for so many years that I don’t really have to see him on television. As a matter of fact, I didn’t see the first Benny show. I was wrestling with a writer at the time trying to find an adjective to fit another comedian, a man who strenuously resists description.
So I called Operative A I, explained that I was delayed at the office and couldn’t get to a set and asked her if she’d look in and report. She did. It is a mark of Benny’s genius that his first show was hilariously funny even second-hand.
Of course, I’m a pushover for Benny, anyhow. A I explained “It was the same old stuff, but it was awfully funny. He started out talking about his trip to England, and right away he got into that tight routine. They wouldn’t let him take the money out, he said, so he buried it in Westminster Abbey. He figured there’d always be an England.
“Then there was this sketch with Bob Crosby. Crosby wanted to be paid $500 a week and Benny wanted to get him for $50. So Benny and Rochester pulled an old trick on him which had succeeded in holding down the salaries of Phil Harris, Dennis Day and even Rochester. They put old ragged curtains on the windows, pulled the springs out of the sofa and made the place look wormeaten. The funniest sight gag of all was a portrait of Benny. One side of the portrait showed a prosperous looking Benny. They it over. On the back was another painting of Benny, his coat collar turned up, a harassed look in his face looking like a refugee from a Bowery park bench.
“Crosby was quite impressed by evidences of poverty. But he had his own. After negotiations had gone on for awhile, the door opened and in walked one of Crosby’s five children. He was in rags. ‘When do we eat, Daddy?’ he asked. Well, that pushed Crosby’s salary up another $50. Then two more Crosby boys came in. They were even more ragged than the first one. The salary jumped some more. When the last Crosby boy in tatters came in, Benny looked at him and said: ‘Where’s your other shoe?’
“‘I ate it,’ said the boy.
“So Crosby got his asking price. The sketch ended with Mrs. Crosby coming in to collect the kids. She was covered with mink and loaded down with diamonds.”
Well, it’s a switch on a gag that has been going on for 20 years or so on the Benny show. The triumphant thing about it is that after all these years it is still funny—even in a reprint, which is how I got it. I can just see Benny’s expression when the first boy came in. I can hear his voice when he asked the boy where his other shoe was.
Benny is like everyone’s Aunt Minnie. You just start to talk about Aunt Minnie’s eccentricities and the family shouts with laughter before you finish the sentence. That’s Benny. He’s everyone’s Aunt Minnie, his nephews and nieces stretching from coast to coast through thousands of hamlets and towns. He grasps a dollar with magnificent tenacity and (and somehow gets parted from it, anyhow).
He’s sort of prissy in his habits. At the start of the show, for instance, he came in and announced that television certainly took it out of him. He needed a drink. So he poured out a jigger of Coca Cola and dashed it down like a real he-man. Everyone bullies him. He tries to bully other people and—apart from Dennis Day—never succeeds.
His charm surpasseth understanding. One of the wonders of the world is his acceptance abroad. This summer, one reviewer in Manchester declared: “There’s no doubt that as a great clown, Mr. Benny, like Charles Chaplin. speaks volumes with the shrug of a shoulder, a whimsical bored smile or his petulant biting of the lips!”
Another one wrote: “The trouble, Mr Benny, is that you are too perfect a comedian. Your timing is worked out to the last decimal of a second. You remained inhumanly brilliant all through.” Said another breathless with admiration: “No audience the world over could miss a single laugh.”

An Inkwell Debuts and Other 1918 Cartoons

While Felix the Cat was, arguably, the most popular cartoon star of the silent film age (he’s certainly my favourite), the animation industry was bustling before the Felix “Master Tom” prototype appeared on screens in 1919. Take, for example, May 1918. Paramount was releasing the Bray-Pictographs, Fox had Mutt and Jeff half-reelers, a company called Sterling was releasing 500-foot animated comedies, Universal had an animated weekly with cartoons by Hy Mayer and Educational was distributing the Katzenjammer Kids, made by Hearst’s International Film Service and drawn by Greg LaCava, and Happy Hooligan. In addition of these regularly scheduled releases, Winsor McCay’s “The Sinking of the Luisitania” was being shown in theatres.

Bray-Pictograph No. 123 featured a pen drawing called “Out of the Inkwell” by one Max Fleischer. It was previewed in New York City on the week of June 2nd and given a full release on June 10th. The Pictographs had animation done on a rotational basis—Earl Hurd made a cartoon one week, Wallace Carlson the next, then the Bray Studio the next (E. Dean Parmalee also made animated technical cartoons for the Pictograph).

The Moving Picture World, a weekly trade paper out of New York City, brought readers the developments in the short subject world (shorts vastly outnumbered features) and even summaries of some of these early cartoons. So let’s delve through issues of May and June 1918. Unfortunately, there are no drawings accompanying these stories. Again, this will likely make dry reading to people who haven’t seen the cartoons, but it gives you an idea of what was being produced. I’ve omitted some articles about release rights and schedules. The summaries are all rah-rah pieces, so don’t expect biting commentary.

The Katzenjammer series is somewhat baffling. Donald Crafton’s book Before Mickey states that International Film Service’s first Katzenjammer cartoon was released in January 1917, but the World talks about a “first” release in May 1918. Perhaps the distributor changed.

Sterling’s titles listed in the period included “Slick and Tricky,” “Doctor Bunny’s Zoo,” “The Old Forty-Niner,” “Mr. Coon,” “Mose Is Cured,” “Zippy’s Insurance,” “Zippy’s Pets” and “The Unknown.” None are reviewed.

May 4, 1918
Katzenjammers in Camouflage Comedy.
The first of the International Film Service "Katzenjammer Kids" cartoons, released this week through the Educational Films Corporation of America, is said to be an unqualified success as a laugh provoker.
The title is "Vanity and Vengeance" and the action deals with a dog in a fox's skin, a cat in a muff, and the Katzenjammer family in church.
Unfortunately the fox's skin, which the Kids annexed to camouflage their dog, happened to be Mamma Katzenjammer's neckpiece, and the muff in which they hid the cat was Mamma's muff, and Mamma, being late for church and not as discerning as usual, placed the neckpiece and the muff in their customary positions without noticing the presence of the household pets. Apparently this particular dog and cat were not in the habit of attending church and a discordant note was in the atmosphere. The dog had been eyeing the cat with a not too friendly gaze, and when she lifted her voice in song it was too much to expect any self-respecting dog to stand, and a fight ensued. The congregation looked upon the dog as a wild animal and stampeded for the doors, windows and other means of egress, climbing over benches, on the roof, and even to the steeple's top, in their fright. The climax shows the Kids hiding under a seat, the organist playing a hymn and the Captain exercising his authority in time with the music.

Bairnsfather's Cartoons Make a Hit.
The most lucrative one-reel subjects ever put on the British market have been Captain Bruce Bairnsfather's film cartoons.
With an eye for the humorous amid the bloody strife on the Western front the artist created a couple of delightful characters—Ole Bill and Alf. These two have created more genuine amusement than any other characters evolved from the titanic struggle. As drawings the artist's work first appeared in The Bystander, and created a record for popularity.
The appearance of the film cartoons was the signal for an unprecedented rush of business. One London contract alone was for $16,000, and the provincial bookings were proportionately good. Where Great Britain did so well there is abundant opportunity in the United States to do better. The Cartoon Film Company, Ltd., 76 and 78 Wardour street, London, England, are prepared to sell the exclusive United States rights.

Raemaeker's Cartoons Offered to Americans
IT may not be amiss to say that Louis Raemaeker's cartoons first opened the eyes of the British public to the full reality and horror of the war. Before the war he was a landscape painter and an illustrator of books, but henceforth he will be known only for his cartoons.
The work of this distinguished Dutch cartoonist received a tremendous impetus when filmed, and the exhibition of the cartoons throughout Great Britain has been extraordinarily successful. The exclusive rights for the film cartoons throughout the United States and Canada are now offered by the Cartoon Film Company, Ltd., 76 and 78 Wardour street, London. England. These wonderful cartoons prove that there are few if any living artists with Raemaeker's power of depicting the very soul of an episode, and be combines with this a keen wit, so that the cartoons are often the most biting satire imaginable. It is a significant fact that the great cartoonist of the war is a neutral, and the American and Canadian public will see that these cartoons form a historical document, the value of which can hardly be over-estimated. British exhibitors did exceedingly good business with the films, and on this side there is opportunity for even larger business. Film presentation of Raemaeker's cartoons will be of immense assistance in fortifying public opinion in a vigorous prosecution of the war.

Fox Film Corporation.
THE FREIGHT INVESTIGATION (Mutt and Jeff Comedies, Fox Company), April 7.—There is no audience outside of a melancholia ward that will not peal with laughter at this cartoon of Mutt and Jeff trying to score with the Government by investigating the congestion on the docks.

May 11, 1918
Educational Films Corporation.
THE TWINS (Educational).—One of the "Original Katzenjammer Kids" cartoons in which these mischievous youngsters make a gorilla drunk and dress him to impersonate a female cousin who is coming to visit. Old man Katzenjammer, in full dress for the occasion, makes love to the creature, which fails to remove its head gear, and is only made wise to the trick when the animal strikes him a blow over the head. Quite amusing.
DOING HIS BIT (Educational).—One of the "Happy Hooligan" cartoons, which is exceptionally funny. Hooligan, after a series of uncomfortable happenings, finally is placed on guard at a German post. He makes his escape by painting his Shadow in black on the wall, so that the officer in command, and who is flirting with a German girl, is satisfied at a glance that Hooligan is still there. Finally he succeeds in dropping a bomb on the Kaiser.

May 18, 1918
"Mutt and Jeff" at the Front
Capt. Bruce Bairnsfather is to have something: of a rival on the western front, says the London Kinematograph. Bud Fisher, the famous cartoonist, who invented our amusing friends of the film — Mutt and Jeff—has enlisted in the United States army and will be stationed "somewhere in France." Mr. Fisher is reported to have reached an understanding with army superiors, whereby he will be permitted to send his cartoons regularly from the front, and we may look forward with confidence to seeing on the screen comedies with such amusing possibilities as “How Mutt and Jeff Beat the Kaiser." Mr. Fisher has completed arrangements with William Fox whereby the Fox Film Corporation will take over the distribution of these animated cartoons, but the production will be under the same direction as it has been for the past two years. I can imagine Mutt and Jeff getting fun even out of the big offensive.

"SINKING OF THE LUSITANIA."
McCay's Vivid Illustration of German Atrocity Presents Cartoon Tragedy of Uncommon Merits.
Reviewed by Margaret I. MacDonald.
IN this latest animated cartoon which was exhibited at the Strand theater, New York City, during the week of April 25, Windsor McCay [sic] has surpassed in tragic realism anything of the kind that has vet been attempted. In fact we believe that "The Sinking of the Lusitania" is the first tragic subject that has been presented by means of animated "drawing. Its sole purpose, apart from artistic effort, is evidently to instill patriotism in the hearts of spectators and further hatred, if possible, for the German perpetrators of frightfulness. It is tremendously realistic, even the fantastic coils of smoke writhing about the doomed vessel reflecting the terror and agitation of the moment. It tells its story clearly, recalling effectively those first bitter moments of America's sorrow and resentment toward the common enemy.
The cartoon represents 25,000 drawings on separate sheets of celluloid, which it is said to have taken McCay two years to complete. It took eight days to photograph the drawings one at a time. Each detail from the sighting of the Lusitania by the German submarine to the actual sinking of the ship is shown. The lowering of the life boats, the tilting of the vessel bow first, the leaping into the sea of the terrified victims, and all the other pitiable sights that the situation presented are vividly shown in the picture.

May 25, 1918
A Hit in the Cartoon World
Paramount-Bray's 119th Release of Pictograph Has Unusually Amusing Animated Drawing.
MOST of our readers know something about the Bobby Bumps animated cartoons, which appear from time to time on the end of the Paramount-Bray Pictograph. These funny little comedies, in which Bobby and his dog Fido are the central figures, are made by Earl Hurd, and are among the cleanest and most pleasing cartoons for children's programs, as well as being delightful to the adult audience. The particular number to which we refer at this writing appears in the 119th issue of the Pictograph, and is entitled "Bobby Bumps Caught in the Jam."
The trouble starts when Fido tries to catch the cat off her guard so that he can steal her saucer of milk at dinner time, and with the aid of a tiny mouse accomplishes his object. The plan, which the mouse and Fido work out between them, involves the luring of the cat from the saucer by the mouse while Fido takes a few laps and the duplicating of Fido for the mouse while the latter satisfies her thirst. This plan repeated in connection with a jar of jam at a later date fails to arrive at a successful culmination, for while the cook is on the trail of Bobby Fido gets his head caught in the jar, a fact that ends disastrously for all concerned. This is one of the funniest yet.

Fox Names Two Final May Fisher Cartoons
THE next two Bud Fisher animated cartoons that William Fox will release will be "Superintendents" and "Tonsorial Artists," in both of which Mutt and Jeff pen-and-ink their way to triumph as janitors and then as barbers.
"Superintendents," released May 19, shows the trials of Mutt and Jeff in trying to quiet a noisy pianola pumped incessantly by a woman of generous proportions, but with a small ear for music. She has one roll that she plays half the day to the annoyance of all the other tenants, Mutt and Jeff, in their capacity as joint-janitors, go upstairs to stop this. Mutt comes down quickly via the dumbwaiter shaft. Jeff proves more diplomatic, and the means he uses to win victory are said to provoke many laughs.
"Tonsorial Artists" will be the last Mutt and Jeff issue in May, and treats of the tribulations that the partners have when they buy a barber shop in a district "where the only residents are inmates of the old sailors' home. There whiskers are an institution in themselves. The men have no use for barbers, and Mutt and Jeff decoy them to the shop by installing a blonde manicurist. While the latter does a rushing business the barber chair sill remains empty, but a great idea results in its being filled.

June 1, 1918
Three "Mutt and Jeffs" Released During June
ANNOUNCEMENT from the Fox Film Corporation offices is that three Mutt and Jeff animated cartoons will be released during June. The releases are "The Tale of a Pig," "Hospital Orderlies" and "Life Savers."
In "The Tale of a Pig" Mutt and Jeff, moved by the spirit of patriotism, start a pig farm. Mutt sends Jeff for a flock of pigs, and he starts back with one big hog with a curly tail. He meets with several accidents and is finally brought home by a man in a flivver. When he opens the door of the machine, out comes a group of little pigs, all with curly tails. A farmer, in a joshing- spirit, tells Mutt and Jeff that curly tailed pigs are not good, so Jeff gets a box of starch and a flatiron and irons out the tail of each pig. Then he hangs all the pigs on a clothesline. What these little pigs do after their tails are starched out forms a climax which is described as being a riot.
Mutt and Jeff as hospital orderlies are intrusted with the care of a crazy patient. The physician, when leaving the hospital, instructs them to give the patient a soothing hypodermic injection. Instead they load him up with pep, with the result that some wild times follow. The patient mistakes everything for a pill, and promptly swallows it. This mistake, however, comes in handy and through a novel way relieves Jeff of his embarrassment in trying to quiet a bunch of squalling infants in the baby ward.
Mutt and Jeff in "Life Savers" tell a story of sad sea waves.

"The Black Mit" a Katzenjammer Comedy.
"Wrestling" with the intricacies of an income tax report is not ordinarily the occasion for much mirth, but in a current release of the Educational Films Corporation of America of an International Film Service black and white cartoon comedy, featuring the Katzenjammer Kids laughter from audiences is greeting Captain Katzenjammer's efforts to figure how much he owes Uncle Sam and the manner in which the Kids "help" him.
“The Black Mit” is the name of the comedy and in it these famous little comedians, through the aid of divers animals, black hands and bombs, succeed in putting the captain through some very lively paces and end, as usual, by securing their just reward.

TWO FOX COMIC OFFERINGS
"Fisherless Cartoon" Will Compel Laughter and "A Neighbor's Keyhole" Is Funny. Reviewed by Hanford C. Judson.
THE now Fisherless cartoon, released by the Fox Film Corporation, is one of the best Mutt and Jeff comics in some time. We see Lieutenant Fisher at work on a picture with Jeff still unfinished. The telephone rings and the soldier is called to arms, leaving poor Jeff with only a leg to stand on. Mutt rises to the occasion and supplies the missing member and then orders poor Jeff to draw the thousands of pictures needed to complete the story which Mutt has written. The "grinds" on the motion picture business are fresh and good. They are such as will be readily understood by everybody, and the picture, written by Mutt and finished, even to the photography by Jeff, is a sure winner.

A FISHERLESS CARTOON (Fox), May 5.—One of the best Mutt and Jeff comedies in some time, Lieut. Fisher being called in arms has to leave Jeff with only one leg, so Mutt not only supplies him with the missing member, but writes a scenario and has Jeff working till it is on the screen, They finally try to sell it to the Rialto, and, discouraged with its reception, send a S O S to Fisher for help.

June 8, 1918
Bud Fisher Puts Over Novelty in a Cartoon
The greatest success that has attended the release of any of Bud Fisher's animated Mutt and Jeff cartoons thus far, according to a statement by an official of the Fox Film Corporation, through whose changes they are now being distributed, it that scored by "A Fisherless Cartoon," issued a fortnight ago. The picture is "a cartoon within a cartoon" and recites in clever pen-and-ink drawings the efforts of the genial Mutt and Jeff to make a cartoon without the aid of their creator, Bud Fisher.
The statement says that the contract department at the Fox headquarters has received many letters and telegrams from exhibitors complimenting the Fox offices on the novelty and the originality of the subject and appreciating the extra footage that the film carries.
The picture, it is explained, runs about 650 feet — 150 feet longer than the usual Mutt and Jeff. It had drawn extraordinary attention from the public and the exhibitor because it is believed to be the first that has shown the difficulties with which an artist making animated cartoons has to contend.
The artist's troubles are dealt with in humorous vein, of course, but the seriousness of the problem is there, nevertheless. Few persons realize that it requires thousands of individual sketches for the material from which an animated cartoon is derived.
“Not the least of the several good twists in ‘A Fisherless Cartoon,’” the statement continues, “is the effect that is obtained when the cartoon that Mutt and Jeff have drawn is shown on the screen—all within the cartoon.
“When Mr. Fox took over the releasing of the Bud Fisher's work, he promised that the pictures would be funnier than ever. That is a promise that has been kept faithfully—and the cartoons for June are the most enjoyable group we have had for any month. We are particularly gratified to find, upon examination of our contracts, that the cartoons are being booked equally by the large downtown theater and the small neighborhood house.”

Cartoons and Ditmars Subject on Same Reel
THE title of the latest Katzenjammer Kid animated cartoon offering of the International Film Service, released by Educational Films Corporation is "Fishermen's Luck," and, as the name implies, the theme is "fish."
The Captain and the Professor are supposed to do the fishing and while the Professor makes a very successful "catch," the Captain, thanks to the Kids, only catches a cold. With the aid of a trained Suck to steal his bait, a dead whale with a live cat and a bulldog inserted as its respiratory organs, and a stovepipe camouflage as a periscope, the rejuvenated sea monster makes the captain's life a miserable one. But he who laughs last has the of the argument, and the Captain's tormentors are far from the laughing when the Captain invokes the aid of an octopus to administer punishment to Kids.

Educational Films Corporation.
FISHERMAN'S LUCK (Educational).—.Katzenjammer number in which the elder Katzenjammer goes fishing. He watches his neighbor having the most wonderful luck while he not only catches nothing but loses his bait. Needless to say the youngsters are on the job, using a duck to steal the bait. An imitation fish containing the Katzenjammer cat and dog which Pa finally succeeds in landing with difficulty proves to be the last straw and earn the youngsters the usual spanking.
UP IN THE AIR (Educational).—One of the Katzenjammer comic cartoons in which the youngsters take advantage of Pa Katzenjammer having the toothache to play a practical joke. They together impersonate the dentist camouflaged by a linen duster, and give him gas which inflates him to such an extent that he serve the youngsters as a balloon to which they attach themselves for a ride through the air. Taken for a hostile aeroplane the outfit is bombarded and finally landed. Very funny.

Fox Film Corporation.
OCCULTISM (Mutt and Jeff Cartoon), May 12.—Jeff learns how to send his astral body out. Mutt finds the body and has the undertakers come. Jeff's astral body floats around the weeping Mutt and has fun with him, then scares him to death by coming to. It's a good picture.
SUPERINTENDENTS (Mutt and Jeff Cartoon), May 19.—Mutt is in charge of an apartment house and goes upstairs to talk with the woman who will play music and wants the other tenants to chase themselves. He has an awful time and comes down all battered. Jeff goes up and comes down outside to the sidewalk. To be kicked out peeves him and he takes off his coat. When he comes down this time it is by the stairs, and he carries the piano with the woman tied to it. Plenty of action; good stuff.

June 22, 1918
Progress in Animated Drawing
Max Fleischer of Bray Studios Gives Startling Demonstration of Pen Plus Screen.
ONE of the most remarkable evidences of what the animated drawing has to offer in the way of realism is demonstrated in a simple bit of pen work by Max Fleischer in the Paramount-Bray Pictograph No. 123 [released June 10, 1918]. This work is entitled, "Out of the Inkwell," and is nothing more than a pen drawing of a clown performing some funny stunts; but the animation of said drawing is so remarkable that the movements of the figure are as smooth and easy as those of the human body. In a fade-out which finishes the cartoon the clown continues to wave his farewell until only the tips of his fingers are visible.
We would judge that one of the secrets of the realism of this work is a matter of a greater number of drawings to the foot of film than usual. After witnessing such an exhibition of artistic ingenuity it is hard to predict just what splendid future is in store for the animated drawing. Considerable has been accomplished already in an educational way with the animated drawing, and who knows to what instructional uses it may yet be put.

"Swat the Fly" Uninterrupted Scream.
In the current Katzenjammer Kids cartoon comedy, "Swat the Fly," a fly annoys the Captain's wife, and a colony of bees attack the Captain. The subtitle of "Swat the Fly" is "The Birth of a Nuisance." Yes, Griffith's "Birth of a Nation" is kidded just a little bit. The novelty of the bee attack is in the fact that the Kids collect millions of them by means of a vacuum cleaner and discharge them in "gas attacks" on the unhappy parents. In the pre-release at the New York Rivoli, "Swat the Fly" was one uninterrupted scream. It has been one of the funniest cartoon comedies released.

June 29, 1918
"Throwing The Bull" and "Wild Babies" Share Reel
A COMBINATION of amusing zoological fact and cartoon comedy is effected in the latest fifteen-minute picture issued by the Educational Films Corporation of America. This reel comprises an International black and white comedy entitled "Throwing the Bull" and a Ditmar's "Living Book of Nature" offering entitled "Wild Babies."
In the cartoon comedy, Happy Hooligan is the principal comedian, and the story centers around a cow yielding condensed milk. Happy as the custodian is inveigled from his job by the wiles of a Spanish girl, and the cow is stolen for the purpose of fortifying the depleted ranks of a number of fighting bulls against which a company of matadors is to battle. Many things happen to the cow and to Happy in his endeavors to effect its return to the more peaceful pursuit.

Fox Film Corporation.
THE TONSORIAL ARTISTS (Mutt and Jeff Cartoon), May 26.—The adventures of the two pen made picture comedians in making a barbershop near nothing but an old sailors' home have some very laughable situations. It is noticed more at length on another page of this issue.
HOSPITAL, ORDERLIES (Mutt and Jeff Cartoon), June 9.—Mutt and Jeff are left in charge of a ward by the doctor, and their troubles begin. It has much good comic matter, and will make laughter. For longer notice see another page of this issue.

I like the way how the article implies that Bud Fisher is somewhere on the front line in France with his light board and drawing animated cartoons.

If any of the cartoons mentioned here are hiding around on-line, I can't find them. So here's a different Mutt and Jeff from the 1920s.

Hey, Cartoon, You Can’t Say That

History has recorded how there was a big flap over Rhett Butler’s final line in “Gone With the Wind” (1939). Yet Flip the Frog used the very same offending word in “Ragtime Romeo” released eight years earlier. Flip says it when he can’t get his sheet music to stay put as he prepares to serenades a girl (we’ve seen her in silhouette wearing a slip and taking off her stockings).



He finally uses a pin to keep the sheet music in place.



But it turns out he hasn’t pinned it to the bush. He’s pinned a dog hiding in the bush.



And there’s a girl dog in there with him. They were, uh, playing “Hide and Seek.” Yeah, that’s it.



It wasn’t the only time Flip damned things. He used the word in 1932’s “Room Runners.” It should be noted middleman Powers wasn’t originally part of the organisation which adhered to the Production Code. Motion Picture Daily reported on August 16, 1934:

First Outside Code Approval to Powers
First certificate of compliance with Production Code Administration standards issued to a producer not a member of the Hays association goes to P. A. Powers, as producer, and "Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp," an animated cartoon, as the picture.
The Hays office, at the same time, stressed the point that the approval, Certificate No. 154, was in conformity with the "association's purpose to afford all producers, whether or not members, the opportunity to use the facilities which the association has developed to help assure the highest standards of picture production."

The Production Code took care of cartoons like this. So the world ended up with frolicking kitties and doggies, cheerful birdies and squirrels and happy fairy tale elves until Tex Avery came along and said “I can’t do it, I tell you! I just can’t do it.”

As for Flip, Ub Iwerks went looking for a new star by 1933 after movie audiences collectively quoted Rhett Butler.

Hold the Wire Backgrounds

The urban settings in the Fleischer cartoon “Hold the Wire” (1936) are so enjoyable to look at, it’s a shame whoever drew them never got on-screen credit. These are some of my favourites in all of the Popeye cartoons. Some of the animation over top (characters and phone lines) is visible in these screen shots but they still give you a clear view of the cityscape. Other than the trees, everything is warped.



The grey tones are perfect and colourisation would be a crime.

Alan Sues Remembered

Alan Sues of “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In” died a year ago and I posted a couple of old newspaper interviews he did while the show was in its heyday. Alan was far from the star of the show but he certainly was a prolific talker. And he seems even funnier than the broad characters he ended up playing all the time on “Laugh In.” Let me post a couple more wire services columns from his early days on the show.

Here’s an Associated Press column from 1969.

Alan Sues Is Success After Much Knocking
By CYNTHIA LOWRY
NEW YORK, June 22 (AP) — Alan Sues, the blond guy who is the paranoid sportscaster, Big Al, on NBC’s “Laugh-in” is still another of those overnight successes who has been around knocking on doors for years.
Sues, in fact, was a member of the 1957 Broadway cast of “Tea and Sympathy,” and in spite of engagements at such anvils of comedy as the Blue Angel in New York and the hungry I in San Francisco, nothing much happened.
“I met George Schlatter producer and creator of ‘Laugh-In’ when he was producing Edie Adams’ act in Las Vegas,” Sues said. “I was working with Larry Tuck and Paul Muzursky [sic]—he later wrote “I Love You, Alice B. Toklas”—doing impressions. We got fired after two days, and they brought in Rowan and Martin That was four or five years ago.”
Sues then got a job in “Mod Show,” [sic] a Los Angeles revue that was similar in form and pace to “Laugh-In,” and moved on to New York with the East Coast version.
“I ran into George on Madison Avenue one day and he asked me if I’d like to appear in his show. I went to the coast to do three shows, was picked up for 15—and wound up doing all 26.”
Now one of the series’ resident madmen, Sues is touring the profitable summer fair circuit with Rowan and Martin, Ruth Buzzi, Henry Gibson and Dave Madden.
The “Big Al” feature, which caught on with TV audiences, was developed from material
he worked out with his former wife. But like all the other cast members, Alan is all over the show, much of the time disguised with mustaches, wigs and strange costumes.
“That show is not for beginners,” he said with a shake of his head. “We have a 243-page script and our average shooting time is two days. The pace is so fast that most of us have to be our own directors—the director is pretty well occupied just setting up camera angles.”
Sues, whose comedy style is unique, appears to have been born a comedian. He is as entertaining off-stage as on. He comes from a substantial upper middle-class family—his father until retirement recently was the Southern California distributor for a large electronic equipment company.
Alan has a tendency to get caught in unusual crises.
When he arrived in Hollywood for his first “Laugh-In,” he sublet a second-floor apartment and was admitted by the superintendent.
“Something happened to the lock, and I was trapped inside one Saturday night,” he recalled. “I couldn’t climb out and we couldn’t get a locksmith until Monday. I spent Sunday with nothing to do but start and stop the garbage disposal unit—there wasn’t even a magazine in the place.”
At the moment, Sues, like the other “Laugh-In” comedians, is very hot and like the others, he is eager to take advantage of the exposure to build up his career. He is eager to pick up some of that beautiful money doing commercials and, like every other performer, get started in feature movies.
Sues also writes. One of the funniest sketches, on ABC’s “Hollywood Palace” this past season, was one of Alan wrote for Ruth Buzzi and himself. He has also written a movie—a silent film with elaborate background music.
In New York on a short holiday to see shows and old friends, Sues was pleased to be recognized by “Laugh-In” fans and was busily counting his blessings.
“I have never worked so hard and I’ve never had so much money,” he said. “I play tennis to keep in shape. I write when I think of something that interests me. I just want it all to keep going.”

And Alan repeated bits of his life story for the National Enterprise Association’s Hollywood reporter in 1970.

From sublime to Alan Sues
By Dick Kleiner
HOLLYWOOD, July 7 [1970] (NEA) — Remember Bob Burns? The Arkansas comic used to get most of his laughs talking about his family and all their crazy shenanigans.
Alan Sues, “Laugh-In’s” resident frant (a frant is somebody who is always frantic), gets most of his off-screen laughs when he launches into details of his family life. Only difference between Burns and Sues is that Sues swears his stories are true.
It all starts with Sues’ father. The point was, Alan said, that his father was now living in San Rafael, north of San Francisco. It was the 63rd place he had lived.
“I’ve always thought,” Alan said, “that my father was cut out to be a gypsy, but he was too square to wear an earring.”
There was no basic reason behind his movingitis. He just liked to move. He’d buy a house, settle in, tell everybody that this was where he intended to spend the rest of his life — and a few months later he’d up and move again.
He could afford it. He did nicely, as the distributor for some big-name appliance brands on the West Coast.
For Alan and his brother, the problem with all these moves was an almost-constant changing of schools. It was upsetting for a boy.
“I was always the new kid in school,” Alan says. "I was the boy who only got one Valentine card. The near-sighted bucktoothed kid in front of me would have a mound of Valentines, but they didn't know me so I’d only get one.”
His father wanted him to go into his business, but Alan was always interested in acting. His father wanted his brother to be a veterinarian, but Alan’s brother wound up owning a restaurant.
“He was always a food freak,” Alan says. “He loves all kinds of food. So he opened a gourmet restaurant. Only trouble is he opened it up in San Luis Obispo. The people in San Luis Obispo aren’t gourmets. They only want to eat steak. It’s very frustrating for my brother.”
Anyhow, poor Alan wanted to be an actor, not a refrigerator-and-washing machine distributor. At one point, he found himself living in Pasadena (that was home No. 48, he thinks) and so he went to the Pasadena Playhouse.
“I was studying to be a serious actor,” he says. “That’s what I always wanted to be. Then one day I did ‘Hamlet’ in class and I got all tangled up in my cape and everybody laughed. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to do anything serious.”
He’s progressed up the acting trail — some stock, some Broadway, some revues — until he was tapped by George Schlatter to be a Laugh-Insaniac. But the urge to act is still there — not “Hamlet,” necessarily, but something.
This summer, he’ll be out on the road for many weeks with Carl Reiner’s nutty play, “Something Different.” He hopes to play the part when — and if — it’s made into a movie.

There’s a memorial site for Alan I discovered when hunting around the net. If you enjoyed his work, or enjoyed the early seasons of “Laugh In” like I did when I was young, you’ll want to click here.

The Camera of Dicky Moe

Gene Deitch made a dozen Tom and Jerry cartoons at his studio in Czechoslovakia in an exercise that brings about much debate amongst old-time animation fans. Some people love them. Others think they’re horrible. Frankly, and I don’t mean any disrespect to Mr. Deitch, I’m not a fan of them.

To be honest, the Tom and Jerry series was already downhill when Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera were still making the cartoons and things never improved when Chuck Jones took a crack at them after Deitch’s efforts. Jones’ cartoons look nice but I defy anyone to have any empathy for his version of the characters.

Deitch’s Tom and Jerrys are just too quirky for me. I won’t get into a whole shopping list of reasons but one thing that’s always bothered me is how jerky the action is at times, especially when impact is shown on the screen. I never understood what was happening until writing this post when I took a look frame-by-frame.

Here’s an example from the infamous “Dicky Moe” (1961). After some mismatched shots, and no dialogue when the Captain is gesticulating like he’s shouting, Tom is shanghaied. During the scene, the Captain shoves a brush in the cat’s mouth with inexplicably reverbed sound effects. I imagine Tod Dockstader, a pioneer in electronic music, had something to do with it.



Then Tom is tossed against the side of the ship. What I didn’t realise is the impact is so jerky because the camera suddenly moves in on the animation from one shot to the next.




Then the camera jerks sideways on the drawings while it pulls back at the same time. Some drawings are on one frame, others on two. It’s just a weird visual effect to me.

If you’re wondering what I mean by “matching shots,” here’s a good example. The Captain should be standing in the same place and have the same expression when the shot is cut from a close-up to a medium. But he’s not. Why? Style or an accident?



Gene wrote about the difficulties in making the series. You can read about it here on the AWM site (ignore error messages and scroll down). You can visit Gene’s web site here.

These cartoons were made a couple of years after my favourite Deitch series: Tom Terrific. And it’s one that seems to get the universal praise that “Dicky Moe” doesn’t.

You Ain’t No Good Luck Charm

Art Davis directed Bugs Bunny only once. Whether that was through desire or the other directors at the studio sopped up the quota of Bugs cartoons, I don’t know. But “Bowery Bugs” is a pretty good cartoon, with a different feel than those of the other three directors of Warners at the time.

There’s a neat little scene where Steve Brodie takes Bugs into a gambling den as a good luck charm—and Bugs proceeds to help Brodie lose all his money. Bugs grabs a coin from Brodie’s pocket and deposits in a slot machine. Whoever’s animating the scene has Bugs’ fingers moving around.



Brodie anticipates a jackpot. But the slot comes up three lemons. We don’t see that. We just see the lemons roll out.



Bugs does a little slide step to get out of the way of Brodie’s punch.



The bouncer that chucks Brodie out of the place isn’t just nicknamed “Gorilla.” He is one. With fangs, even.



I’ve always liked how Brodie is tossed to the curve, then the lemons follow him. After just enough time, the gag is capped. A little sympathetic dog trots into the scene, licks Brodie, gives a take, then spits.



The animation credits go to Don Williams, Emery Hawkins, Basil Davidovich and Bill Melendez. Bill Scott and Lloyd Turner came up with the story.

Was Jack Benny Right About TV?

John Crosby once remarked that he was such a devotee of Jack Benny’s and a student of his methods, he didn’t even have to see him on television (it sounds more like a one-liner than a complement).

Crosby’s column for the Herald-Tribune syndicate featured Jack a number of times over the years and on at least two occasions, Crosby had Jack join a number of TV/radio stars who wrote fill-in columns while they were on holidays.

Here’s the second one that appeared in papers starting May 17, 1959. Basically, Crosby’s giving him free ad space for a coming TV special. Jack fills the rest of the time—presuming he actually wrote the column—commenting on the first column he wrote for Crosby in 1950.

Benny Comments on Column
Some years ago, after I’d done my first television show, I was asked to write a guest column. I called it to Video Via Radio," and it dealt with my impressions of the then infant medium of television. Those were the days of TV-B.C.— that's Before Cowboys.
It's a little odd to read the words you wrote years ago in the light of what’s happened since. A lot of the things I was worried about then seem silly now, after I've been on television for so many seasons with my own half-hour show plus special shows like my May 23 “Jack Benny Hour.” You should see what I’ve got to worry about nowadays.
Anyhow, some of the remarks I made in my Innocence and youth was only 30 at the time, nine years ago) gave me pause; others gave me a good laugh; and a few gave me chills. Before I had my secretary burn every copy, I jotted down a few of my statements in that column and offer them herewith, along with some observations in that column and offer them herewith, along with some observations in retrospect.
“The day after my video show,” I wrote, “I was walking down Broadway and I heard a woman say to her friend ‘There’s Jack Benny, that new comic I just saw on television. . .’” (Now they say ‘There’s Jack Benny, that old comic I saw, etc.”
In those days, of course, I was still on radio. I wrote, “It had always seemed to that to go on television with all its problems, while continuing to do my radio show might be biting off more than I could chew,” (The president of CBS radio agreed; he told me I should stick to television. The president of CBS Television felt just the opposite).
I was also worried in those days about my format. To wit: “There was something about doing an hour show that didn’t feel right to me—an hour show without dancers, tumblers or other extraneous acts might be too long.” (Today, a number of critics feel that my half hour show is too long.)
“We rehearsed a scene in which I call Dinah Shore in the phone to ask her to appear on the show. She tells me her price is $5,000, and I practically faint from the shock.” (I did the same gag with Gary Cooper this season, only his price was $10,000—and I didn’t bat an eye or move a muscle. I think the doctors call it temporary paralysis.
“Experience and proper organization can and eventually will simplify the creation of TV programs.” (I should have saved a copy and sent it to my producers.)
Then I wrote, “We had Mary talk about three stations at the same time. She said that all night I kept shooting it out with Hopalong Cassidy to see who would marry Gorgeous George . . . (Hopalong Cassidy won, and they’ve lived happily ever after.)
“The $64,000 question,” I continued, “which no one can really answer at this time is whether television will wear out comedians . . . (the answer to that is simple . . . Television won’t but the $64,000 Question almost did).
“When we got to the cab, Milton Berle was sitting there waiting for us. He said he’d left his rehearsal just to come down and me some technical advice. And then. . . he briefed me on the art of how to close your eyes when you’re getting hit in the face with a pie.” (Today Milton is a very sophisticated comedian. He believes you should keep your eyes open when being hit by a pie).
Jack Warner was on one of my early shows. “Speaking about ‘The Horn Blows at Midnight,’ Warner explained that if it were a little better, he might have gotten his money back from the theaters and if it were a little worse it would have been a natural for television.” (Since then Jack Warner released ‘The Horn Blows at Midnight’ to television. This was part of the motion picture industry’s campaign to drive people back into movie theaters.)
Anyhow, that’s what I said nine years ago. And nine years from now, why, then I’ll do a column making fun of this one.

Readers to the blog will know I’ve been trying to post a Benny story every Sunday as that was Jack’s night on the air for years. The source where I was getting these has now become inaccessible. However, I have a few salted away and will try to keep posting them. Next Sunday, we’ll have Crosby himself on Jack’s TV show.

Mickey Trade Ads, 1935

Here’s a collection of ads from The Film Daily marking Mickey Mouse’s birthday in 1935. Much like how Boxing Day has been stretched out to a whole week, Mickey’s birthday is more than a day.

The caricatures in the first ad are terrific. Beery, Keaton, Garbo, Brown, Chaplin, Cantor, Arliss, Groucho, Hardy and Durante; other than Beery, I think they were all caricatured in animated cartoons about this time.



Interestingly, Walt Disney’s name isn’t on all the ads. I suspect the Disney studio wouldn’t omit its name from publicity material today.