Dog Eat Dog

Hot dogs aren’t usually emotional, but they are in the hands of Walt Disney and his gagmen.

In the silent short All Wet, Oswald the rabbit sells a hot dog to a dog. But the hot dog is alive. It’s silent, but the animators can easily get across all the necessary emotions without a lot of elaborate drawing.



The internet says the animators of this cartoon were Ub Iwerks, Ham Hamilton, Friz Freleng, Ben Clopton, Hugh Harman, Paul J. Smith and Norm Blackburn.

Buck Benny Interviews Again

Westerns giveth and Westerns taketh away.

In the late 1930s, Jack Benny rode his Western serial parody, “Buck Bunny Rides Again,” from a series of parody sketches on his radio show to a feature film, enriching his bank account along the way. In the late 1950s, TV Westerns were all the rage, and Maverick ate into the Benny TV audience. For example, Variety reported on March 11, 1958 that the Trendex ratings had Maverick at 27.1 and Benny at 19.7. Television columnists started raising the question of whether this was the beginning of the end for Jack Benny. Jack got a little testy when asked about it in some interviews.

There was one interview, though, where Jack seems to laugh off the competition. The interviewer was...himself. Or so we are to believe in this feature story in the New York Herald Tribune of May 4, 1958. He’s in character for the first part of it until he gets to the questions about Westerns. His responses about young comedians were repeated in other interviews. And he almost seems to try to placate Mary Livingstone with his “answer” about her forcing him to practice his violin in the bathroom (she did) by making light of it.

BENNY DOES A “double-take”
The multi-talented Jack Benny can even interview himself!
Jack: Q. Tell me Mr. Benny, to what do you attribute your legendary success in show business? (The book said to always begin an interview with a pleasant question to get your subject in a pleasant mood.)
Benny: A. Well, my natural modesty makes that question a little difficult to answer, but since you asked, I have to be honest. Talent, what else!
Q. Do you feel that if you had not entered show business you would have been as successful in another field, for instance, banking, or finance?
A. Now that’s a ridiculous question. Banking is a hobby with me. Why just this morning I was discussing a loan with the head of one of the nation’s big banks. Incidentally, I had to refuse them.

Q. Many times on television reference is made to your blue eyes. Tell me, Mr. Benny, are your eyes really blue?
A. Bluer than the winner of a bathing beauty contest in Nome, Alaska.
Q. Recently you celebrated your 40th birthday on Shower of Stars. Are you really 40?
A. Well, age is a relative condition and I’m not sure. I don’t feel 40, and you must admit, I certainly don’t look 40. Many of my fans don’t believe I’m 40, and besides I feel when a person reaches 40 he’s entitles to forget a year or two. I may go back to begin 39—out of deference to my fans, of course.
Q. You are often depicted as something of a tightwad on your television programs. Are you really cheap?
A. Of course not. It’s just that I detest ostentation in anyone, particularly myself. Check grabbers and spend-thrifts are such show-offs. I have always felt that being a celebrity anyway, I should allow someone else the limelight given the flashy spender who makes a big thing out of picking up a check.
Q. Are you really as devoted to money as your writers would have the public believe?
A. Certainly not. True, I like money. Who doesn’t? As a matter of fact, you might say I collect money. But, after all, lots of people collect things. Stamps, valuable paintings, first editions, things like that. When you examine a dollar bill closely, it is a work of art. The engraving, the ink colors, even the texture of the paper. It’s a fascinating and practical hobby, and you don’t have to buy frames, or books in which to keep your collection.
Q. That brings up another question. Do you really have an underground moat around your vault?
A. Of course not. Moats went out with the middle ages. It’s true I have a sunken fish pool—but not by any stretch of the imagination could it be called a moat.
Q. Do you keep tropical, or gold fish in your pool?
A. Neither. I tried both, but the alligators kept eating them.

Q. Do you feel that Western television programs have really hurt comedians?
A. Not at all. As a matter of fact some of the Westerns are pretty funny.
Q. Not that many comedians feel that way about Westerns. How do you find them funny?
A. Well, the hero for instance never gets his hat knocked off in a fight which usually puts at least three men in the hospital and leaves the saloon in a shambles. Another instance is where the hero, after chasing the dirty villain all over the badlands for days, finally catches him, gets the drop of him, and then throws away the gun and finished the villain off in a fist fight.
Q. Do you feel that the Westerns portray an important segment of American history?
A. Yes they do. The Western towns, complete with wooden sidewalks, old sideboard buildings with gaslights, these things all recreate an era in history. I find no fault with Westerns. How can anyone criticize something the public so obviously likes. As a matter of fact, I like them.
Q. Since you decided to be serious for a moment, do you see in the current Western craze any threat to comedy or comedians?
A. No, I don’t. History will prove that comics have been around almost as long as civilization itself. Clowns, court jesters, and the like, were important factors in the earliest civilizations, which I am sure, you will admit, predates the cowboy era. Humor however is where you find it. A cowboy named Will Rogers managed to combine comedy and the old West into a pretty successful career.
Q. As long as we are on a serious note, let’s continue for a minute. Do you feel the chances of young comedians breaking into show business today are as good as the time that you started?
A. I don’t feel young comics have much the same chance. In the old days you could be terrible in vaudeville and no one knew it but the handful in the audience. Today, if a comedian is bad his first time on television, the whole country knows it at once.
Q. Your mention of a place in which to be bad brings up another point—your violin playing. Is it true that Mary makes you practise in the bathroom?
A. Of course not. I practise there from choice. The colors are restful and besides I can practise there without being interrupted by the doorbell or the telephone.

Q. Do you consider yourself a great fiddler?
A. Well, my concert itinerary should answer that question. Carnegie Hall, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, the Philadelphia Philharmonic, the Toronto Symphony, the Chicago Symphony, and recently I played a concert in Kansas City—sponsored by former President Harry Truman. That’s no borscht circuit.
Q. True, true, but you still haven’t answered the question. Do you consider yourself great?
A. Well, I’ll admit I’m no Jascha Heifetz.
Q. Then why do you keep giving concerts?
A. Well, if I may be serious again for a minute, I give concerts because for one thing I love good music. I have always been interested in it, and I do study the violin seriously. Granted, I’m a very bad fiddler, but I enjoy giving concerts anyway.
Q. Do you find all of these concerts rewarding?
A. Very much so. They are all done for charity, with the proceeds going to some worthwhile cause.
Q. Last year, in Las Vegas, you played your first nightclub date. Did you enjoy it, and are you planning to do more nightclub dates?
A. I enjoyed playing the Flamingo very much. It’s wonderful to work in front of an audience, and the audiences in Las Vegas are the best in the world. Yes, I do plan more nightclub dates. As a matter of fact I’m returning to the Flamingo for four more weeks this summer.
Q. I’ve heard reports that a lot of entertainers who play in Las Vegas take a terrible beating in the gambling casinos. With your respect for money, doesn’t this cause you considerable concern?
A. Jack, this may come as a shock to you, but the only way I could get hurt in Las Vegas is if an earthquake topples a slot machine over my foot.

How To Make a Good Cartoon Commercial

There was a period when cartoons reigned supreme in the advertising world. Cartoon characters sold beer and gas and just about everything else. They were found on TV commercials, and newspaper and magazine ads. By the 1960s, that all changed. I’m sure cost had a lot to do with it; I suspect at one time it was cheaper setting a cartoon in a magazine page layout than it was a full-colour photo. And on TV, the attitude eventually prevailed that cartoons were for kids. Pretty soon, beer was being sold by athletes in comedy routines, not a cartoon bear or Mr. Magoo. Cartoons were reduced to plugging cereals and kids toys, though Herschel Bernardi lent his voice to an animated fish who was pretty effective in getting housewives to buy a brand of tuna.

Here’s a feature story in Variety from March 19, 1958. Ade Woolery is, basically, selling companies on selling via animation. Woolery was one of the founders of UPA before opening Playhouse Pictures in 1952. He got his start at Disney in 1936 shooting pencil tests; he was not an animator. At Playhouse, he produced more than 2,500 commercials and other short pieces of animation, including the opening to You Bet Your Life, with a cartoon Groucho driving a DeSoto. The company had terrific designers and animators, though I admit I’m biased toward much of the 1950s stylised animation.

I sheepishly admit the frames accompanying this story are not the product of Playhouse Pictures. The were made by Paul Kim at Academy Pictures in New York; Kim eventually opened his own studio. They’re from an edition of Broadcasting magazine that came out around the time as Woolery’s article (you can click on each to make it bigger; the resolution on them isn’t very good, though). Mike Kazaleh has posted some of Playhouse’s commercials at Jerry Beck’s Cartoon Research website.

Case For The Animation Specialist
By ADRIAN WOOLERY
(Pres., Playhouse Pictures)

I believe a good television commercial should entertain while selling to hold an audience and sell while entertaining to hold a sponsor. The animated commercial has proven to be the most effective in accomplishing these tasks. It usually carries a minimum of "sell" copy; it has a proven retention value for its sponsor and his product and more important, its animated characters create a permanent and identifiable impression.
Of course not all products lend themselves to the animated medium. This is one of the reasons why only about 25% of the total film commercial production is animated. There are other factors such as the light versus the hard sell, the advertising techniques of competitive products and the market involved. Popularity certainly is not one of the reasons why there are not more of these cartoons. On the average, six out of the top 10 commercials in the American Research Bureau best-liked tv commercials survey each week are animated and a sales analysis of their cartoon characters show them to be highly effective. Animation studios were founded on their ability to provide better writing, animation and art values through coordinated creativeness in storyboard, character design and the unique execution of the entire film. The specialist studio has become big business. It will continue to thrive, as long as it has the talent and skills to add those extra creative touches under close supervision throughout the entire production that results in an above average commercial.

Because of the increased costs of television time and talent; a sponsor needs the most effective commercial his money can buy to deliver his message. The commercial in many instances is an integral part of the show on which it appears and specialist treatment is needed to make it dollar-for-dollar the highlight of the program. These same techniques are required in the television spot commercial to assure that it will stand out when run during a station break or when coupled with other messages. With the increasing use of spot saturation, the specialist studio offers many advantages for the local, regional and national advertiser. Among them is the creation of a cartoon character.
Cartoon 'Star'
As pointed out, the sponsor benefits from the animated commercial in many ways but primarily through the development of a cartoon salesman. There are the added factors that the character can be used in newspaper advertisements, on billboards, and in point-of-sale presentations. The animated commercial has made its greatest impact on the graphic arts field in this regard. Some advertisers have even incorporated their animated television characters into their packaging design for further product identification.

The phenomenal rise of the cartoon “star” is one of the most interesting developments in the animation field. His popularity and acceptance is not left to mere chance. In the lightly-knit environment of the specialist studio, careful thought, research and planning go into the creation of every new cartoon “star.” The studio is nearly always requested to create a model sheet showing the proposed characters in different poses and attitudes either from the agencies' rough storyboards or their own story outline. These model sheets allow time and study for the agency and advertiser to make sure that they will have a distinctive character and that their “star” will not be offensive or cause audience dissatisfaction when he sells the sponsor's product.
The full talents of the studio are called into action to find the star: one with warmth, a strong personality, a sense of humor and above all saleability! Conferences ensue with the creative personnel, the designer, background artist (scenic designer), music director, make-up (ink and paint), the director and camera man. Simultaneously, a talent hunt is launched for the proper voice upon which a great part of the character's success is based. With agency approval and the production crew complete; voice, sound effects and music tracks blended; the star is born. Each animator lives the "personality" that has been created as they act out the character in the assigned roles. In the weeks ahead, millions will view the debut of our "star" in the comfort of their living rooms and discuss his or her antics.

This personal attention to the sponsor's cartoon salesman is the added plus the client receives at no extra cost from the animation specialist. It is a necessary "must" if the commercial is to reap its full rewards. Each week our created cartoon characters have far greater audience exposure than the biggest television personality. They must be carefully conceived, thoughtfully designed and professionally executed. Their popularity is a success story in itself and the impressions they make can be lasting and effective.

Uncle Max's Laughing Mailboxes and Sedans

New York City breaks out into uncontrollable laughter in the Betty Boop cartoon Ha! Ha! Ha! (1934), thanks to animation over live action film and still photos.

The cartoon starts out as Betty turning into a dentist to extra Ko Ko’s bad tooth (made painful by biting into a Hershey Milk Chocolate bar). She turns on some laughing gas to help but the gas eventually wafts out the window of Max Fleischer’s drawing room.



The laughing gas affects mail boxes.



People. I wonder if these are Fleischer employees.



A bridge. Can anyone in New York identify this spot?



Cars. Is that a 1933 Chrysler on the left? It looks like a Model T on the right.



Tombstones.



Finally, Betty and Ko Ko escape the gas by jumping back into the inkwell in a time-honoured Fleischer tradition. However, the inkwell succumbs to the gas as the cartoon ends.



Seymour Kneitel and Doc Crandall are the credited animators.

I Reject My Son

Two propeller planes give birth to a jet plane in Little Johnny Jet (1953). How that happened isn’t made clear by writer Heck Allen but we do see the father plane (Daws Butler) rejects his new son when his wife (Colleen Collins) hesitatingly gives him the news.



Tex Avery, his designer and animators manage to successfully turn wings into arms and hands when necessary.

Ray Patterson joins Avery’s usual crew—Grant Simmons, Mike Lah, Walt Clinton and Bob Bentley—in animating this cartoon.

Fun with Rudy Ising's Piggy

You Don’t Know What You’re Doin’! (1931) is a nicely put together cartoon with a stylised drunk sequence, great music from Gus Arnheim’s Orchestra (a band that was broadcasting from the Cocoanut Grove on KFWB at the period this cartoon was made) and some good little takes.

Piggy puts bootleg hootch in his car’s radiator.



This is a really imaginative take. A drainage intake at the end of a sidewalk turns into a monster to scare a drunken dog.



There’s always a butt gag in these early sound cartoons.



And a flatulence joke that turns into an Al Jolson “Mammy” joke.



Poor Piggy and girl-friend Fluffy made their debut in this cartoon, though Fluffy vanishes half-way through, maybe out of embarrassment for being a pig named Fluffy. They lasted one more cartoon.

Norm Blackburn, later an NBC TV executive, and Friz Freleng are the credited artists.

To Chase a Woodpecker

Outlines and colour streaks make up a good portion of an eight-drawing cycle of Papa Panda chasing Woody Woodpecker around a chimney in Knock Knock (1940).



Alex Lovy and Frank Tipper get the animation credits, though I imagine Les Kline and La Verne Harding worked on this cartoon as well.

Aunty McKassar Goes Far

Before the Jack Bennys and Bob Hopes and Edgar Bergens and Fibber McGees migrated to California to take over the airwaves, radio stations on the West Coast developed their own stars. Unfortunately, once the big names from back East arrived around 1935, there were no more starring shows for them.

Many of them continued to find radio work, though, and some became very much in-demand as top character actors. They moved into television when radio declined. One of them was Elvia Allman.

The first time I recall seeing her was either on The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction as a snooty busybody. That became her specialty. During the heyday of network radio, she was a man-chasing spinster and appeared regularly on a string of comedies—Burns and Allen, Bob Hope, Abbott and Costello, Blondie, Jimmy Durante. But her West Coast radio career dated back to 1926 when she was hired by the Los Angeles Times to take charge of programming on its station, KHJ. She read stories, she sang, she performed in dramas and comedies, including Elvia Allman’s Surprise Party. She married the station’s organist, Wes Tourtelotte.

Here’s a profile from Broadcast Weekly of April 26, 1931. By then, she was a regular on KHJ’s variety show The Merry Makers.

ELVIA ALLMAN, KHJ’s miss-interpreter of the lighter things in life, began what-a-life in Spencer, North Carolina, September 19, 1905. To save restaurant tablecloths, we figure it out for you. She's 26 years old. From Spencer to Wichita Falls, Texas, is but a leap for a pair of long legs like Elvia's. There to her undying glory, she graduated with honors from the Wichita Falls Dramatic School, and having earned some money teaching the local banker's, minister's, and feed and fuel baron's daughters the art of the drama, forwarded herself to Chicago. At Chicago University further knowledge was acquired and ambition for a career fanned to white heat. The white heat developed enough steam in Elvia's boilers to get her to New York. But she blew up in Hoboken after a few glorious weeks in stock and a trip around the suburbs in "Smiling Through." Came the big chance. Elvia was cast as the maid in the Broadway production of "Flames." She was also understudy for the female lead. This seemed like an excellent opportunity as the lead was subject to fits and starts. But "Flames" turned to ashes the first week. And opportunity knocked but once. At this point in this career, Elvia's mother, who has been dying slowly since the day she was born, wired daughter to come to Los Angeles to spend the last days with her. Elvia hopped the first freight and arrived in time. She reports that her mother gives every indication of continuing to die slowly for the next sixty years. It was five years ago that Miss Allman burst upon radio as the program manager of KHJ. While radio then, wasn't what it is today, Elvia was very hungry and a warm place to sit looked good. When Don Lee bought KHJ it was discovered that Elvia was thrown in with the transmitter to make it a baker's dozen. It should be recorded for historians that Miss Allman's first radio appearance was over the Westinghouse Station in Chicago. She endeavored to entertain with readings from the masters. Although she returned several times, she was never asked to. But—as the count stands today, there isn't a better she-comic on the air than Elvia—nor a more distinguished impersonater—nor a more delightful interpreter of the low-down in popular music—nor a more finished actress in farce comedy. Believe it or not, a large hunk of the radio audience, recognizing her fine intelligence and vital personality, are betting that the bundle of volatile arms, legs, eyes, ears, nose and throat, known as Elvia Allman (alias Aunty McKassar, Malaria, Harriet, etc.) will go as far as radio.

Originally, network programming was piped from New York or Chicago to the west and not the other way around due to A.T. and T’s line configuration. That meant if you wanted to be a success on a network, you had to go east. That’s what Allman did. She left for New York with her characters and music scores in January 1933, started on the NBC Red network on February 27th and was cancelled May 27th. Back to the West Coast she went, claiming she returned because she missed her husband (they divorced the following year). But soon the big radio stars who had signed motion picture contracts followed. Network radio had money. Money talks. And money told A.T. and T to reverse its lines so network radio shows could originate from California. Suddenly there was lucrative work for top secondary and occasional players on these new shows, and that’s where Allman started to audition. She also fit in voice acting on animated cartoons at Disney and Warner Bros.

Here’s a chatty story about Allman from Radio Life magazine of October 15, 1944. A good portion of it focuses on Blanche Stewart, an extremely versatile actress who died on July 24, 1952 at the age of 49. She was injured in a fall in 1942 and never really recovered. Her most famous role was opposite Allman on the Hope show, but she was in Jack Benny’s secondary cast and stage show through much of the 1930s and was Mary Livingstone’s back-up. She had worked in vaudeville but her dancing career ended because of an injury. Allman, judging by the article, had an incredible amount of affection for her.

The Most Insulted Gal in Radio!
By Shirley Gordon
JACK CARSON sneered across the microphone at Elvia Allman. "When you were a girl," he scoffed, "Gravel Gertie was just a pebble!"
"That's the way it goes," said Elvia later, with a philosophical shrug of her shoulders, "I'm the most insulted gal in radio. When I ask a man, 'Would you like a lock of my hair?' he answers, 'You couldn't spare it!'
"My mother—bless her heart—is always saying, 'If they really knew you, they wouldn't say those things!'" smiled Elvia, "but I tell her I don't care what they say, as long as they pay!"
The only thing about her "insult" roles that displeases Elvia herself, is the fact that they seldom allow her any chance to characterize. "They're just caricatures," she frowned. "Seldom do they develop into real characterizations."
Nevertheless, radio-dialers have come to respect the inimitable Miss Allman for her tricky portrayals of lovable comedy characters on Hollywood's top airshows. Listeners love her as "Tootsie Sagwell" of CBS' Burns and Allen show, as Mrs. Dithers" of the "Blondie" cast, as the screeching anathema of the Jack Carson and the Moore-Durante shows, and as "Cobina" of the well-remembered team of Brenda and Cobina.
Brenda Still Ill
"Brenda," Elvia informed us, "is still in the hospital. She's been there almost two years now, with a knee injury that won't heal." Elvia told us that she is hoping the doctor will allow her ex-partner to come home soon under the care of a nurse.
"Then, perhaps, we could work together again, even if it were necessary for Brenda to work from a wheel chair." Elvia went on. "We could clown around and no one would ever know the difference. I know it would do her a world of good."
Elvia is hoping that Brenda (in real life, actress Blanche Stewart) will be allowed to do, at least, some "G.I. Journal" shows for the soldiers, on which Elvia appears regularly.

"Most of the boys who heard us as a team during the many months we were on the Bob Hope show, don't know that Brenda is ill and that the team is temporarily out of existence," explained Elvia. "They'd love to have her back.
"The other night, when I was doing a show at the Canteen," she told us, the boys shouted, 'Where's Brenda?'
"I answered, 'Oh, we went to the beach this afternoon, and somebody covered Brenda with sand.' "
'So what? Why isn't she here now?' the boys wanted to know.
"Welllll," replied Elvia, in the rasping voice of Cobina, "I forgot to mention. The sand was mixed with cement!"
The boys loved the gag, and most of them still don't know about Brenda. They'll just be glad to see her back.
Those that correspond with Elvia regularly, however, have learned the inside story. One of them—a sailor in the South Pacific—has sent Brenda a beautiful robe. "I write to a number of servicemen regularly," Elvia told us, "They're such swell boys, and their letters are so sweet."
In Person
Elvia, in person, is tall, willowy and redheaded. When she talks, she flings her arms about in wild, windmill-like gestures. She is almost always garbed in slacks.
"I like 'em," she explained, "because I can put my feet up. You should have seen us at the Moore-Durante rehearsal this afternoon. We sat around a big, round table, and everybody had their feet up on it—including me.
"In fact," she added, arching her eyebrows and adopting her Cobina-like mannerisms, "mine" were right next to Durante's!"
Returning to serious talk about her career, Elvia expressed her annoyance over being so strictly typed for comedy roles. "I'm a darn good straight character," she declared indignantly, "but nobody will call me for dramatic parts any more.
"In fact," she declared with exaggerated dignity, "I'm the best darn commercial reader in the business!" Then she did a double-take and exclaimed with a twinkle, "Shy little thing, aren't I ?"
Elvia has earnest hopes that a new show she has been auditioning will get a place on the networks. It's based on a character called "Hedy Hearthrob," an old maid with a heart of gold who writes a love-lorn column.
Wide Experience
Elvia Allman's background for her current comedy career has consisted of serious study of piano, singing and dramatics. At eighteen, she was studying the latter in Chicago, after which she played in stock in New York, then came to California. Here, she entered radio, doing everything from sweeping out the studio to writing and reading scripts.
In 1933, she went to New York with her own program, billed as the "California Cocktail Girl." But bad times brought the show to an abrupt halt and Elvia came back to the West Coast.
From Hollywood, she appeared on programs with Ruth Etting and Jimmy Durante, then got her biggest break on the Bob Hope show, becoming a regular member of the cast as "Cobina." Movie work has supplemented her radio roles.
When not working or writing to servicemen, the actress finds enjoyment in playing gin rummy and reading. She likes all kinds of literary matter, from autobiographies and good fiction to "Terry and Pirates" and "Dick Tracy" in the funny papers.
She likes to eat. Asked to name her favorite dish, she replied, "Anything, just so long as it's food!" She told us that if she's not hungry, her mother thinks she's sick.
"But I have such a hearty appetite," Elvia reasoned, "because I'm so long. The food has so far to go."
She expressed a passion for the leisurely life in California, explaining, "because I'm getting old."
Then she laughed, "See, I'm insulted so much, I believe it!"
Has Dreams
Nevertheless, she is looking forward to the day when she can live on a farm. "I'd come into Hollywood just often enough to do a show each week ('Hedy Heartthrob,' I hope!), and maybe, to be insulted for money once in a while.
"There's one other thing, too," she added then, her brown eyes twinkling. "I'm looking for a man! I'd like him to be a farmer that doesn't smell—an unscented one! I'd want him to be modern—a scientific farmer, not a hit-or-miss one—with money as well as a crop! He'd have to be tall, and I'd like him to have at least a little hair. I wouldn't want to have to insult him!
"Let's see now," she rasped then, a la Cobina, "how can you word that so I'll get him?"

There was one last stab at radio stardom. Allman and Bea Benaderet cut an audition record in 1948 for a show called The Simpson Twins. The networks turned it down. Radio was starting its downslide anyway, and Allman moved into television. She continued to find regular work with old friends Burns and Allen, and Joan Davis. I Love Lucy fans know her famous guest appearance on that show. When she finally retired, she devoted her time to charity work with Meals on Wheels and as a member of the Order of the Eastern Star. She was 88 when she died on March 6, 1992.

He Has Nine Gags

How different was Jack Benny on TV than the Jack Benny in real life? Quite a bit, actually. In fact, Jack gave seemingly countless interviews telling that to people.

Here’s one of them from a feature column that appeared in newspapers starting April 20, 1956. Vernon Scott interviewed Jack a number of times during the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s. This may be Scott’s first, though he may have written about Jack earlier without a byline, or a search of earlier papers on-line may have been hampered by text that got garbled during scanning.

Benny Confesses His 'Legend' Is a Fraud
By VERNON SCOTT
United Press Staff Writer
Jack Benny admitted this week he's the biggest fraud in show business.
The master comedian says he has based his "on-stage" character on nine gags which, through the years, have become fact to millions of Benny fans.
For instance, few people know that Jack has never worn a toupee. He doesn't need one. But almost everybody he meets inspects his scalp for signs of a dome daily.
"NOT LONG ago I filmed a show with Bing Crosby, George Burns and Rochester," Jack recounted over a highball at Romanoff's. "Suddenly it occurred to me that all three of them wear toupees. But they don't advertise the fact."
Another Benny standby is his ghastly violin-playing. Jack is an accomplished musician who plays the fiddle very much better than he's ever demonstrated on his CBS-TV show.
He never owned a Maxwell nor lived next door to Ronald Colman. Both gimmicks, though, are sure-fire laughs and strictly fiction.
"MY FEUD with Fred Allen was another fraud," Jack admits. "He was one of my closest friends. We started sniping at one another, and when it got laughs we kept it up. That's how all my running gags started.
"Even in vaudeville I never told one-line jokes. I always had a routine and stayed pretty much with one story. But from the beginning, I was the underdog."
Benny's greatest fiction is he's the biggest fraud ms penny-pinching. Actually, his generosity is one of the worst-kept secrets in Hollywood. He never fails to contribute to charitable causes. Yet he tips twice as much as anyone else to avoid being called a skinflint.
His age is another hilarious element of Jack's other Benny.
Jack's gotten more yaks with the 39-year-old routine than any other. Out of character, he doesn't hesitate to talk about his real age, 62.
"One of my funniest gags was the treasurer bit with the Beaver Patrol," Jack grinned. "I don't know why, but people get a terrific kick out of an adult being mean to little kids."
Finally, Jack has drawn hundreds of laughs from boozing band members on his show. None of the musicians, to his knowledge, ever showed up for the program with a load on. Even his standing joke about "The Horn Blows at Midnight" is a phony. The picture made money.
"I'm not a complete fraud," Jack concluded. "Some things are true—like finding Mary (Livingstone) in the May Company.
"It's been fun building up the character I portray, but I've given up trying to convince people it's not the real me."

A Model King

For years, Hugh Harman dreamed dreams that never came to be. One of them was a feature-length film based on the King Arthur legend. He never made it. But he kept re-announcing it in the trade press for years.

Perhaps the most attention he got with it was in 1942, the year after he left MGM and opened his own studio. Harman came up with a gimmick. Technicolor film stock was in short supply because the elements were needed for military use. Harman found something else.

The story below was written in the October 3, 1942 edition of Showman’s Trade Review. That’s where the photo of Harman comes from. The other picture comes from the Motion Picture Herald published a week later.



Clay Models Replace Drawings, Save Film
Moulding clay has come to the rescue of Hollywood's movie cartoon makers today, pulling them out of a materials-shortage which eventually might put world-famous animated characters off the screen for the duration.
Producers of animated pictorial subjects so far have acquired large stocks of materials — most of it raw film — to perfect the myriad bits of pen-drawn action of their characters. This has been mainly a trial-and-error business in an attempt to smooth out life-like capers with thousands of separate drawings required in perfecting correct perspective of each movement. With a pinch on material, the animation chiefs have been busy figuring out a way to keep their characters on the screens of the world in the face of government pruning.
Hugh Harman, pioneer in the animation field and responsible for bringing the first sound voice to cartoon character, not only has solved the problem for the present batch of characters but has perfected a clay-moulding method that will make possible production of "King Arthur's Knights," full-length animated movie to be done in color.
Staff members of Harman's organization — Charles McGirl, Melvin Shaw and Max Ising — shaped in miniature all the characters of the new project: knights on horseback. Sir Lancelot, Guinevere, Sir Modred and all the other people of the famous story. These were completely "wardrobed" in colored paint, then photographed with a special camera from every possible angle.
These photographs are being used by the animation artists to get their perspective exactly and quickly instead of making thousands of trial drawings which would have to be photographed via the motion picture camera.
Experimental work with the new system already has shown a 50 per cent saving in film stock, Harman disclosed. First screening of the method will be embraced in the short subject, "We Can Lose," now under way at the Harman Beverly Hills Studio with the cooperation of the Academy and Office of War Information.
Ninety-eight clay models will be required for the King Arthur project. With the war subject and the longer knight story as proof of the method, Harman is certain that animation producers will be able to weather the materials shortage without curtailment of their instructive and entertainment output.

“We Can Lose” was the first in a series of 12 cartoons called “History in the Making” that was to be released by United Artists. I’ve found nothing to show it any of these cartoons appeared in theatres.



Harman’s glory days were behind him after leaving MGM. He reunited with Rudy Ising after the war to make industrials and commercials but Harman-Ising is never mentioned in trade stories about the studios racking up loads of business in animated TV ads. As for King Arthur, here is the trail of stories through the pages of Variety about his efforts to make the feature.

Dec. 10, 1941
Tennyson's old English sagas of chivalrous rough stuff will be fashioned into a Technicolor cartoon. "King Arthur Knights," to be filmed by Hugh Harman Productions, Inc. It is the first independent production by Harman, who recently left Metro to go out on his own.

Oct. 11, 1944
Hugh Harman Productions will discontinue all short subjects, and confine its activities to feature-length films in Technicolor. W. K. Shafer, general manager, announced. Policy switch takes, place upon the completion of the current program of shorts for the Government, and postwar plans call for stressing a new animation process.
Two stories are now in preparation, "King Arthur" and "Hollywood Merry-Go-Round," with the first slated for only 10% animation, and this in fantasy sequences.

Feb. 2, 1945
Hugh Harman will make no more 35mm. films after studio winds up its governmental films. He will shift to 16mm. for all others, with budgets to range from $1,500,000 to $2,000,000 for Animaction [stop-motion] features. This decision was reached yesterday at an executive meeting, studio announced. First feature in 16mm. will be "King Arthur," to start around July 1.

Nov. 6, 1946
New system of establishing a "beat" by means of discs to assist film cartoonists in working motion and rhythm into drawings has been devised by Eccles Recorders. It's being tested by three producers on forthcoming cartoon shorts and features. Idea is a time saving device that eliminates metronomes and assists in "acting out" usually necessary of artists before sketching to get feeling of action wanted in drawings.
Eccles has recorded "beats" that run entire gamut employed in cartoon studios. Platters are being made that run even numbers on one side and odd numbers on reverse sides, taking in eight, 10, 12, 14, 16 and 24 frame beats, and nine, 11, 13, 15 and half beats or other multiples of 24th of a second on reverse sides.
SPECIAL PLATTERS
Special platters containing musical beats such as waltz, rhumba, samba, etc., also are being cut. "Beats" help artists accent action without resorting to mechanical or other on-spot means. The step standardizes means for all artists. Discs will eliminate recalibrating of metronomes sometimes used and replace constant running-off of accompanying sound tracks to get overall timing desired. It will end practice of perforating old film for purposes of creating a timed reel by means of holes punched setting up spaced clicking as reels are run.
Idea is an offshoot of Eccles recently tested plan to assist animators in catching mood and feel of action by dubbing dialogue from film to discs. Instead of running sound tracks over and over on movieolas, artists are better able to synchronize action with sound by listening to recording whose playing is less complicated, saves time and wear and tear on film.
John Sutherland is testing "beat" platters on "Fatal Kiss" he's making for United Artists release. Harmonizing Productions (Hugh Harmon) will use it on feature length color cartoon, "King Arthur and Knights of Round Table," and on "Little Prince." Deal is also being talked to producer Herb Lamb.

July 10, 1947
H-I also have releasing deal with UA, and currently are busy on "Little Prince." Company expects to get going on another feature this year, but property isn't definite. Followup to "Prince" may be "King Arthur."

May 21, 1958
Harman-Ising Pictures, vet Hollywood animation outfit, has closed deal with Toei Motion Picture Co. Ltd., of Tokyo and Kyoto, in first East-West co-production deal for a program of feature-length cartoons. Toei, one of the largest film companies of the Orient, will provide major financing as well as artistic talent, including animation...
Initial films will be "King Arthur," "Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves" and "Joy to the World." Actual production is expected to start in Japan around September. Budgets look to be between $1,500,000 and $1,800,000, according to Hugh Harman, prexy of H-I.

November 3, 1959
Warner Bros, will release "King Arthur," first of Harman-Ising Pictures' animated features to be made in Japan in coproduction with Toei Motion Picture Co. Ltd. of Tokyo and Kyoto.
H-I is also planning other animated productions—among them "Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves" and "Joy to the World"—to be created by Japanese animators under American supervision at Toei.

Harman did eventually work on a film that included King Arthur—part of an educational short made in the early 1960s for Coronet, known more behavioural films for children and teenagers. It was a big comedown, and a tacky-looking cartoon as well, especially for someone who fiercely pushed to be better than Disney in the late ‘30s.

He was fortunate enough to be alive when a huge adult fan-base for old cartoons rose up, appreciating and historically examining his work with Disney in the ‘20s and for Leon Schlesinger in the early ‘30s. Variety gave him more than a passing mention when he died in 1982. Bob Clampett told the Associated Press: “He was one of the truly great pioneers of animation.” Perhaps that’s the best way to remember him, instead of the man who dreamed dreams of animation that never quite came to pass.