







Pete Burness worked on this cartoon, along with Friz Freleng’s regular animators of the later ‘40s, Virgil Ross, Manny Perez, Ken Champin and Gerry Chiniquy.
Nuisance Spawned WoodpeckerThe reference to Mel Blanc is interesting; the story leaves the impression that Mel was still the voice of Woody Woodpecker, which he hadn’t been since the early ‘40s (there’s no mention of anyone else, including Mrs. Walter Lantz). Toward the end of the decade Blanc sued Lantz for using his Woody laugh and lost, but Lantz settled with him out of court before an appeal could be heard. Blanc then proceeded to play Woody on records, on a radio show broadcast on the Mutual network, and used the voice for several years on the aforementioned Benny show.
By STEVEN H. SCHEUER
TV Key Staff Writer
"A real homey show with no tricks," says cartoonist Walter Lantz about his Thursday afternoon ABC Woody Woodpecker series, which comes on before the Mickey Mouse Club.
Walter's old fashioned about his cartoons. He was doing film cartoons at the very beginning, 1918, when they flashed balloons over characters' heads to insert dialogue. "My theory has always been to make cartoons like real people. I don't go for two eyes on one side of the head. For the art set, yes, but not for the theatrical audience."
Woody Woodpecker, with that incredible laugh or trumpeting, is Walter's most famous character and he's the result of a continuing nuisance back in 1941. Walter was busy at his drawing desk while a woodpecker outside was drilling away on a tree. The incessant noise got on Walter's nerves, and then suddenly the idea of using a woodpecker as a cartoon character flashed across his mind.
"Woody was a hit the first time on the screen," said Walter. "When we recorded the show I asked Mel Blanc (one of Jack Benny's TV regulars), who was to do Woody's voice, to think up some kind of a laugh for more character. Mel tried a few versions and then came up with his distinguished contribution."
The mere thought of Woody and "that terrible noise" gives many grownups the shudders, but the laugh has always been a favorite with the kids. So, when Kellogg's, the sponsors, were looking for a TV cartoon series, Woody seemed a logical bet. However, they also wanted Woody's creator, Walter Lantz, on the series.
"I'm no actor," he said when approached. He thought about it for a while and said he'd do it if he could tell the kids how animated cartoons are made. Sponsors said fine and Lantz went to work.
Luckily they were ahead on theater shorts so he could put the whole shop (52) to work. Each week on the show Walter shows a different segment, the cutters, the animators, the story boards, etc. He even does a little drawing himself.
What stuns him is what it would cost him today, starting from scratch, to make the present series. "I couldn't do it for less than $225,000," says Walter. Today it costs $35,000 to make a six-minute movie cartoon. Another $10,000 for printing and distribution costs. Then cartoonists have to wait about four years to get their money back, get it in driblets." This has sounded a death knell to the theater cartoon industry. Disney has abandoned movie cartoons for full-length features. MGM's Tom and Jerry is no more.
"Warner's Bugs Bunny, me, UP, Terry Tunes [sic] and Paramount in the East are the only survivors," says Lantz. "If only the distributors would give us a tiny bit more we might have a chance.
Walter keeps going with re-issue of cartoons, comic magazines and now the TV show. After 40 years in a topsy-turvy business Walter looks in good shape, financially and otherwise. His secret? Walter's blue eyes twinkled. "I never worry," he said.
Lantz on Cartoons: Put Some $$ in ‘EmWoody’s appearance on network TV was short-lived, but through no fault of his cartoons. Ad agencies representing local stations eyed all that money Kellogg’s was paying to ABC. In June 1958, they proposed Kellogg’s move the half-hour ABC strip from the network to individual stations, who would be willing to drop their rates by 20 to 30 per cent depending on how many days a week Kellogg’s bought. For a time, the idea was floated to go to NBC, still another proposal would have seen a half-hour of Tom and Jerry cartoons replace one of the five shows. Broadcasting magazine’s weekly issues of June 1956 can be found on-line for anyone wanting to read the minutia. By month’s end, Kellogg’s and its agency Leo Burnett rejected counter-offers from ABC and began to sell a revised line-up of shows to stations in 171 markets. One of the new shows became a quick favourite. It starred Huckleberry Hound. Woody made the cut and remained part of the Kellogg’s “network” until January 1961, when the old Lantz cartoons were replaced with fresh ones from Hanna-Barbera in a half-hour series starring Yogi Bear.
Walter Lantz states the formula for successful cartoon programming: "Make them non-seasonal, uncontroversial and musical, and above all, put some money into them.
The producer-emsee of "Woody Woodpecker," which is drawing a 15.3 rating (American Research Bureau) in a 5 p.m. slot to top all network daytime figures, deplores slapped-together shorts passed off as "new TV shows." He attributes "Woody's" healthy debut to the format evolved by Lantz and Universal Pictures, which includes five minutes of live action on film to blend the cartoons and explain the animation processes.
"We've shot 9,000 new feet and developed new characters like Chilly Willy the penguin to avoid that stale look," says Lantz. "Mail indicates that our pantomime-to-classical-music cartoons are big favorites, so we've scheduled one in each show in a center spot. When you’re doing a new series, you make changes like that. When you're unloading old product, you never tinker with the form.
After 41 years in the business, Lantz was "forced" into TV because "cartoons for theaters will soon be extinct. Costs have gone up 165 per cent in 10 years, booking fees only 15 per cent. Video is the answer, Lantz feels, tho “There's nothing wrong with theatrical exhibitors that a buck won’t cure.” Once in, he and Universal (for whom this is a first TV series, too) labeled the “Woody Woodpecker” backlog not as the finished vidfilm product but a starting point for activity which is currently keeping a staff of 55 busy in Hollywood.
“Long animated commercials are coming,” predicts the veteran animator. “Too many which should be live now use animation. Once they clear out, there’ll be room for cartoon spectaculars among commercials. Cartooning is to TV what comics are to newspapers, supplying space and variety of style.”
“Woody” is the hero of the Kellogg-ABC-TV “Fun at Five” strip, the other four entries averaging an ARB rating of 8.4 on reruns. Its Thursday telecast has climbed from 101 to 166 stations since the show’s premier in October, with Kellogg holding an exclusive for 104 weeks. It’s finally been revealed, incidentally, that the voice of “Woody” belongs to actress Grace Stafford, Mrs. Lantz.
Did Quizlings Outdo Chicago's Black Sox?Here we are more than 65 years later. Did television change for the better?
By JOHN CROSBY
Charles Van Doren may go down as the Shoeless Joe Jackson of his age. “Say it ain’t so, Joe,” is the plea on the lips of a million true believers—and the answer is silence.
But the trouble is I can’t quite cast these quizlings in the role of the Black Sox players of 1919. Shoeless Joe Jackson was an authentic genius. There was an air of papier mache about all the quiz heroes—that shoemaker with the appealing face, the taxi driver who used to answer the questions before they were asked.
I AM SHOCKED not so much by the fact that these have proved to be false gods as by the fact that they got to be gods in the first place. There is not the slightest question but they were gods all right. Why? Because they were intellectuals and knew the gestation period of elephants (one of the questions asked potential candidates?) I doubt it.
I think mostly because they were little people being propelled to fame and fortune overnight. They were each a little Cinderella story and it’s hard to say which was the greater lure, the fame or the fortune. The money was good but I think maybe the fame was even more enticing in our fame-hungry world.
BUT THEREIN LIES the fraud on the populace. If they didn’t truly possess this outlandish information, the public would never have made these shows so wildly popular and, if they weren’t so wildly popular, they never would have been worth millions to the Lou Cowans who owned “$64,000 Question” and “$64,000 Challenge,” and Barry and Enright who owned “21” which they sold for millions of dollars. As usual, it is not the guy in the ring who makes the killing. It is the fixer outside.
The moral squalor of the quiz mess reaches clear through the whole industry and I do not see why Congress shouldn’t pursue its investigation a little further. If it did, Congressmen would discover that nothing is what it seems in television. Well, nothing apart from its news and public events shows.
No scandal has ever touched the honest and hard-working news men who are competent and incorruptible. Why are they so exceptional? Well, largely because each news operation is network-owned and operated and the ad agencies kept strictly out of the office. This has given them an esprit de corps denied all the others. (The situation isn’t perfect. The news guys would like far more voice than they have, more time, more money, more everything but they’re proud of what they get on the air).
BUT IN EVERYTHING ELSE the heavy hand of the advertiser suffocates truth, corrupts men and women. Rod Serling, one of TV’s noted dramatists and author of “Requiem for a Heavyweight,” tells of doing a TV play based on the Till case, the Mississippi lynching. Somehow the victim became a foreigner from an undesignated country; the scene shifted to New England, last place in the world it could happen, and the diatribe was directed at some vague, formless injustice that didn’t merit the shouting. The script, in short, became a lie. Rigged TV drama, rigged quiz shows.
People in the business say: “Yeah, but that’s the way things are. Why fight City Hall?” The feeling of high purpose, of manifest destiny that lit the industry when it was young, when the Ed Murrows and Fred Coes and Pat Weavers ran the place, when talent was all over the place, is long gone. The money changers are in the temple and the place has reeked of corruption for a long time.
THERE IS A FEELING that corruption reaches into the highest echelons, into the trafficking for frequencies itself, and this has helped weaken the moral fibres in the lower echelons. Why fight City Hall? The Federal Communications Commission has been touched with scandal in the granting of a license in Miami and certainly it cannot be accused of being either energetic or notoriously interested in the honesty of quiz shows or anything else. The whole industry—who’s in, who’« out, who’s rich, who’s poor—rests insecurely on a rating system that is trusted by no one and is misused by every one.
The worst crumbs in the business are now in the saddle and the best and most idealistic and creative men in the business either can’t get work or they quit in disgust and go on to better things in the movies or the theater. Perhaps the quiz mess is the Black Sox scandal of television and maybe it could be used to clean up the rest of the mess.
If you bought the POPEYE, THE SAILOR, WOODY WOODPECKER or LOONEY TUNES cartoon DVDs, you probably heard Beck supplying audio commentary. Early in his career, Beck collaborated with film historian Leonard Maltin on his book OF MICE AND MAGIC (1980), organized animation festivals in Los Angeles, and was instrumental in founding the international publication ANIMATION MAGAZINE. Jerry is among the guest of honors at this year's convention and will be providing a fascinating history of BETTY BOOP and another on POPEYE, THE SAILOR, at the convention this September. Bring your books and DVDs and ask Jerry to sign them for you! Jerry also has a superb blog found hereYou can see breasts any time, right? Just look them up on the internet, or go to the beach if you want to ogle some in person. But how many times, dear readers near Hunt Valley, Maryland, can you see Jerry Beck?