A Cartoon Word From Our Sponsor

Television saved the animated cartoon industry in the 1950s.

Cartoons and other short subjects became to movie studios like an appendix to a human. They weren’t really needed. They didn’t bring in vast revenue. So studios sold TV distribution rights to companies that proceeded to make a killing off them, resulting in the creation of a whole new TV animation industry.

But cartoons got a boost from television in another way. They were perfect for advertising. TV was still fairly primitive in 1950. There weren’t all that many production facilities and the ones that existed were still tinkering to perfect the technical aspects of the medium. But cartoons had already been perfected. Veteran animators and layout men who knew their craft were looking for work. Cartoons didn’t involve building and lighting sets, blocking actors and so on. As a result, there were almost countless numbers of animated commercials on TV through the ‘50s.

Harry Wayne McMahan, formerly of animated TV producer Five Star Productions, wrote a book in 1954 on effective TV advertising, then enlarged and updated it in 1957. It has some wonderful reproductions of frames of commercials, including animated ones. Unfortunately in some cases he doesn’t reveal which studio was responsible for them. But allow me to pass on some that were identified.



Animation Inc. was run by Earl Klein, Storyboard was John Hubley’s company while Ed Gershman was in charge of Academy Pictures (with Bill Tytla as a vice-president for a time). Sam Nicholson was creative director at TV Spots at the time this book came out. There were many other studios, of course; these were among the West Coast commercial producers.

Here are some examples McMahon gives of styles.

Like everything else in popular culture, the animated commercial fell out of favour toward the end of the ‘50s. It, like just about all animation, was determined to be kiddie fare. Cartoon animals hawked breakfast cereal and not much else during time slots aimed at children. It’s too bad. There’s still a place for Bert and Harry expounding gleefully on the wonders of a really lousy regional beer.

King-Size Canary Backgrounds

As the characters grow in Tex Avery’s King-Size Canary, so the scene of action gets vaster. They start inside a home, then around a suburban neighbourhood, then around big city downtown skyscrapers, then the great outdoors and finally, the whole planet.

Here are some of Johnny Johnsen’s backgrounds in the latter part of the cartoon. You can get the idea of the colours and shading he used for good effect. He even fits some green in the strata lines of the Grand Canyon. You can probably recognise the skyscraper designs; he used them in cityscapes in other MGM cartoons. Same as the lattice-work billboard signs; he liked that a lot, too.



John Didrick Johan Johnson was born on July 23, 1885 in Denver, at least according to U.S. census and military records. But his parents, Didrik Johan and Karen Assine (Aanonsen) Johnsen didn’t emigrate to the U.S. from Norway until 1893, and Norwegian baptismal records state he was born in Norderhov, Norway and christened there in 1886. So I’m stumped. (To add to the confusion, his sister Rakel was born in Norway in 1888. His brother Taule Arnt was born in St. Paul, Minnesota in 1894). By 1906, the family was in Los Angeles where Johnny was working as an artist for the Los Angeles Express in 1908. He was a commercial artist for Neuman-Monroe Co. in Chicago when he registered for service in World War One. By 1920, he was working in the Detroit area (Highland Park) and then back in Los Angeles by 1930.

Johnsen joined the staff at Leon Schlesinger some time in the 1930s; Griff Jay and Bugs Hardaway were on staff and both former newspaper artists. Johnsen’s work can be seen in Tex Avery’s Merrie Melodies and he stayed at Warners briefly before joining Avery at MGM in 1941 or 1942. When Metro got rid of its Avery unit in 1953, Johnsen retired. He died on February 7, 1974.

Czech That Pain

Gene Deitch sure loved those spikey effects, didn’t he? He used them for both impact and pain in his Tom and Jerry cartoons.

Here’s just one of a number of examples from High Steaks (1962). High comedy erupts when Jerry traps Tom’s tail in a barbecue. It sounds like Tom’s saying “no, no, no” over and over again as he tries to extricate his tail but it’s hard to tell because his echoey voice is being drowned out by the muffled music (there’s a fair bit of vocal ambient noise in the cartoon).



Here come the coloured spikes. Deitch has these four on a cycle, while Tom moves around, all on ones.



Mismatched shots. These are consecutive frames.



This was the fourth of the 13 Tom and Jerrys that William Snyder produced for distribution by MGM. Deitch directed this one at his studio in Prague, although there’s also an “animation director” credit.

A Division of Gimbleco Enterprises

In the summer of 1977, I spent five half-hours a week marvelling at the concepts and performances on a TV show designed to live only 13 weeks. And almost 40 years later, I still think Fernwood 2 Night was one of the most creative shows ever put on television.

It used the talk show format to satirise everything from right-wing gun-nuts to left-wing earth people. Some of the ideas were sheer brilliance—an expert claimed leisure suits caused cancer and brought on some fabric-wearing lab rats as proof, being one. The credit roll at the end showed all kinds of writers and consultants but a lot of the show seemed ad-libbed. And other than Fannie Flagg, I didn’t recognise any of the actors so they were more like real people (as opposed to someone playing a role). The casting couldn’t have been better. Fred Willard brought a great casual cluelessness to announcer Jerry Hubbard. Frank DeVol was wonderfully deadpan as bandleader Happy Kyne. Bill Kirchenbauer was perfect as the rug-wearing, lyric-forgetting lounge act Tony Rolletti. So was Terry McGovern as affected radio rock jock Larry Guy. The character that put me in a state of choking laughter was the president of the Tom Snyder Fan Club, who had the same hair-style and hurried staccato delivery and arm-waving as his idol. It was dead-on. The actor was one of the behind-the-scenes people on the show, a fellow named Harry Shearer.

(As an aside, you couldn’t pay me to watch one of those Ernest movies, but Jim Varney never had his talents showcased better than on Fernwood 2 Night).

Associated Press columnist Jay Sharbutt revealed on July 1, 1977 the show was intended as a summer replacement for Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, which was leaving the air because a) boss Norman Lear wanted to end it “before its popularity fizzled” (Sharbutt quote) and/or b) star Louise Lasser wanted off it. But Lear wasn’t prepared to end Mary Hartman altogether; he used the time Fernwood was on the air to re-work it without Lasser.

Allow me to dredge up a couple of newspaper feature stories from 1977 about Fernwood 2 Night. Both are from the King Features Syndicate. The first one answers the question I’ve always had about script-vs-ad lib. It appeared in papers around July 24th.

Fernwood Tonight First Talk Show For The Nobodies
By CHARLES WITBECK
“No, you can’t come on the show—you’re too well known” is the answer given to stars who wish to guest on Norman Lear’s new half-hour talk show, “Fernwood Tonight.”
The show is currently in the “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman” time-slot five nights a week until October 1st. “Fernwood Tonight” has no room for the customary celebrity guests booked for Johnny, Dinah, Merv, and Mike, since glamorous stars would seldom be caught dead in the mythical Ohio town where Mary Hartman lived until July 1st.

This, “Fernwood Tonight” becomes TV’s first talk show for the nobodies of the world, eccentrics dreamed up by Hollywood writers, portrayed by improvisational actors, who for the most part, wing their material.
“We’re not spoofing Johnny Carson, or Dinah, or anyone else,” maintains blond Martin Mull, cast as host Barth Gimble. “Our show is about people you never see on the air—the plumbers, inventors, hobos—characters that might live or pass through a place like Fernwood, O. We’re not trying to make fun of the human race either. We just want to complete the talk show picture.”
Familiar to “MH, MH” fans as wife beater Garth Gimble, who died last February only to be resurrected this past June as twin brother Barth, painter-comic-musician Martin Mull remains in Fernwood as the pompous talk show host while his soap opera pals have the summer off.
Backing up Mull as co-host is Fred Willard, formerly of the Ace Trucking Company, playing talkative Jerry Hubbard. Musician Frank DeVol becomes band man Happy Kyne; and Bob Williams, with his dog, Louie, who never does anything—one of Norman Lear’s favorite vaudeville and club acts—signs on as Barth’s dad, Garth Gimble, Sr. Dad is a security guard, hired by his son who wants to be sure Gimble Sr. earns his keep in his old age.
After Williams, the field is wide open for Hollywood actors skilled at improvising at the drop of a cue card. One of the best around, Kenneth Mars will appear frequently as Will W.D. (Bud) Prize, Fernwood’s Ambassador-at-Large. Character actress Fannie Flagg is another chatterer adept at spinning thoughts of giddy ladies.
So far the only celebrity is singer Tom Wait [sic], a self-styled hobo, and an original. He pulls up a chair next to host Gimble, pulls out a bottle and begins yammering.
Success of “Fernwood Tonight” therefore, rides on writers dreaming up fresh wacky talkers, and the players’ ability to improvise the rest. Since two shows are taped a day, adrenaline runs high in the performers. At least Martin Mull and crew know that shows can be edited, lowering the fear of drawing a blank.
“We have real dead spots. No one knows what to say,” Martin admits. “It looks like a real talk show, the kind you see at 9 a.m. in little towns. I’ve seen my share touring with my act, and I love ‘em.”
Mull works from cue cards part of the time since he is the ringmaster, and improvises the rest. Ten years of performing on the road with his guitar and chatter makes the host post possible. But his first job acting came on “Mary Hartman” and that terrified the man.
“I was terrible,” Martin said. “You could see the sweat marks on my three-piece suit.”
But Mull impressed Lear when the boss caught Martin’s act at Hollywood’s Roxy. Mull was in top form. Suddenly, he stopped and called out, “Norman, do you need to see any more?” Ten years on the road just paid off, allowing Lear the gamble of going with a lead when only began acting within the year.
On the show you might even see Martin’s mom, Betty Catterton from Connecticut, appearing as a Fernwood librarian reading a list of famous people.
“To prepare, mother spent three days reading the phone book,” Mull said. “She was perfect, and had such a good time, she refused to take her makeup off.”

This story has more of Martin Mull’s thoughts. It appeared in papers beginning August 5th.

‘Fernwood Tonight’ Just Right For Its Zany Host Martin Mull
By JOHN GOUDAS
NEW YORK (KFS) – If Johnny Carson decided to throw caution to the wind one of these nights and allow his humor to run wild, he might approach what fictional talk show host Barth Gimble is trying to do on "Fernwood Tonight." The syndicated five-nights-a-week entry is the latest brainstorm of the innovative Norman Lear; and, although it has still to find its way, the show has managed to shatter many myths inherent to TV talk shows since the early days of "Tex and Jinx" (who?).

Sitting down to a chat with Martin Mull, who plays Barth Gimble, "Fernwood Tonight's" ingratiating host on the show, one quickly realizes that his talents are only being scratched on the mere surface on "Fernwood." Mull is one of the wittiest and consistently funny entertainers on the scene today. Norman Lear should give Mull the half hour and allow his fertile comedy mind to explode with its wild, improbable and thoroughly zany observations about life's foibles.
When Lear first met Mull, the TV impresario asked the stand-up comic-singer what sort of part he envisioned for himself in the then running "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman." Mull, expressing a desire to use his talents as an artist (he has a Masters in painting from a Rhode Island art school), told Lear he saw himself as a high school art teacher who was instructing Mary's daughter, the teenaged Heather. Mull envisioned the artist as becoming obsessed with Heather as a model and having him paint her in a variety of poses, ranging from imitation Hallmark Card illustrations to Reubens' nudes. Lear laughed a lot and said no.
"That was the end of our meeting and six months later, I got a call to come and test for the part of Garth Gimble, the wife-beater on 'Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman,' " Mull recalled.
Fans of "MH2" became intrigued with the character of Garth, and Mull had fun portraying the smiling cad who ended up impaled on a Christmas tree ornament after being locked in a closet. This single incident, along with another character's drowning in a bowl of chicken soup, were the two most talked-about plot events in "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman."
When Lear came up with the idea for "Fernwood Tonight," it was a foregone conclusion that Garth's twin brother, Barth Gimble would become Fernwood's answer to Merv-Johnny-Mike.
The show got off to an outrageously funny start and after some bumpy episodes, may be beginning to find its stride. Although it was designed as a summer show, "Fernwood Tonight" now looks as if there's a chance it may go on indefinitely. Martin seems to be enjoying himself and is ready for whatever the future might bring. He's no stranger to TV and the decision-makers at networks. He was once involved with a network on a development basis and everytime he came up with far-out ideas for shows, they'd look at him askance and politely reject them.
The times seem to have caught up with him, and "Fernwood Tonight" is the perfect showcase for Martin Mull.

Just as Lear couldn’t let Mary Hartman go, he couldn’t let Fernwood 2 Night go, either. He came up with America 2 Night, basically moving Barth Gimble, Jerry Hubbard and Happy Kyne onto a low-budget network and adding celebrity guest stars playing themselves. The revamped and redubbed Hartman wasn’t as good as the original. Neither was America 2 Night. But not too many shows were.

Hole in One (Disney Mouse, That Is)

A drunken mouse in a Disney cartoon? Well, we’re certainly not talking Mickey. Or Timothy from Dumbo, for that matter. We’re talking pre-Mickey, back in the silent days when Walt Disney was making his Alice comedies featuring a live-action Alice and animated animals.

In Alice’s Tin Pony (1925), Alice doesn’t appear very much. It stars B-list Felix knock-off Julius. There are some good gags, but the best one doesn’t involve Alice, Julius or a tin pony (a pun on “iron horse” as the cartoon is centred around a train). A drunken cowboy mouse staggers into a peg-legged bear bandito. The bear kills the mouse, who collapses into a pile of mouse goo. Then he kills the mouse’s ten-gallon hat, which sprouts wings and flies out of the picture. A pretty imaginative scene. I really like how the mouse looks through the hole in his body and behind himself.



The drawing’s not at the calibre of even the earliest Mickey cartoons, but I’d rather watch an angel-winged cowboy hat than most Mickey cartoons any day.

He's in There

Seagoing Sam’s stool-pigeon parrot keeps revealing Bugs Bunny’s hiding place in Buccaneer Bunny, squawking “He’s in there! He’s in there!” Finally Bugs offers Polly a cracker. A firecracker.



“Me and my big mouth,” Polly mournfully tells us in the audience just before passing out and dropping from his perch.



Mike Maltese and Tedd Pierce combined on the story for this 1948 cartoon from director Friz Freleng.

Tralfaz Sunday Theatre – Why Take a Chance?

Combine really obvious back projection of stock shots of 1950s cars with the King of the 1950s Movie Trailers and what do you get? The industrial film Why Take a Chance?

This 10-minute short was made by Jerry Fairbanks Productions, one of the top industrial producers in Hollywood, for General Tire and its ad agency, D’Arcy Advertising. The company was an Oscar-winner; it produced the Speaking of Animals comedy shorts for Paramount, among other films. Fairbanks is known to cartoon fans as the man who bankrolled the original Crusader Rabbit series, then lost ownership of the films in the early ‘50s when his company got into debt with NBC.

The script for Why Take a Chance? was copyrighted on January 8, 1954 by Fairbanks and Leo Rosencrans, who ran his live-action story department (Fairbanks also had an animation department under Lou Lilly). The voice of the highway patrol officer/narrator belongs to Art Gilmore, famous for many years as the announcer on The World Tomorrow religious show. Earlier, he seems to have been the go-to man when you wanted a voice on your ‘50s horror or science fiction movie trailer. Gilmore was also the announcer on the syndicated Highway Patrol TV show starring Broderick Crawford, which was syndicated by Ziv Productions after this industrial film was made.

You’ll love the opening with the happy stock music over stock shots of cars followed by a raspy voice repeating the short’s title. Next comes the back projection behind panicked actors in cars and then CRASH! The next aftermath scene of an accident is great. A child is pulled from a smashed car, after someone who was behind the wheel gets out on the other side and puts his hand to his head. Wouldn’t you think he’d rescue his own child? Then the scene cuts to Gilmore in an official looking uniform, urgently shouting at the audience while cradling a crying girl as more back projection rolls.

The film also features a 1948 Chevrolet going over a cliff, 1953 Mercury Montereys crashing into cardboard cutouts of boys and a 1950 Pontiac being driven off a 10-storey building (at least, it’s a Pontiac when it gets to the bottom).

This isn’t a great industrial (though General Tire seems to have liked it judging by a trade ad) and you’ll have to put up with a time code and a bug from the company wanting to sell you a version with a higher resolution, but if you like old cars or Art Gilmore, you should be able to sit through a decent portion of it.