Oh, Those Horrible TV Shows

Pat Boone “is sometimes not suitable for children”

What? Religious, milk-drinking Pat Boone?!

That was the conclusion of one organisation that got bent out of shape over most programming aimed at kids—and some that wasn’t.

Columnist Lawrence Laurent didn’t give the reason for the Boone bash when he reported on the group’s findings in the March 13, 1968 edition of the Washington Post. But he went on to write:

For the last 17 years an evaluation report has been issued annually on television programs for children. The report comes this year from an organization called the National Association for Better Broadcasting (NABB), formerly known as the National Association for Better Radio and Television (NAFBRAT).
Under any name, the organization has found—annually—that most of the programs for children are bad. This year is no exception:
“Television for children, 1968 style, is a mass of incriminate entertainment dominated by some 40 animated program series.” These, in turn, are “dominated by ugliness, noise and violence.”
Kind words are for the “notable exceptions.” The recently issued report by Betty Longstreet and Frank Orme lists those exceptions as “The Funny Company,” “Big World of Little Adam,” “Terwilliger Twins,” “Gumby,” “Casper,” “The Beatles,” “Bullwinkle” and “a few others.”
Most of the animated cartoons, they claim, are “composed of grotesque mindless chance and hit-hit-and-chase cartoons.”

Reports like these caused a sea change at the TV networks when it came to their Saturday morning hours. George Gent at the New York Times reported on March 22, 1968:

A CBS spokesman said Thursday that some of the current cartoon series, such as “Frankenstein Jr. and the Impossibles,” the “Superman-Aquaman” series and “Space Ghost,” will be canceled and others will be shown later for older viewers.
“There’s no question but that some of these change[s] are a response to protests we’ve had about excessive violence from parents and educators,” the spokesman said. “On the other hand, we’re killing programs that have been very successful.”

Yes, out went those horrible superheroes. You know, the ones who stand up for what’s right and triumph over evil? What replaced them? Programming the networks did their best at trying to sell to as non-violent or enlightening.

As a side note, many credit the group Action For Children’s Television with the death of cartoon superheroes in 1969. Afraid not. The group, formed in 1968, was originally more concerned about commercial content on Saturday morning and didn’t issue its proposed guidelines for programming until February 1970. According to a Christian Science Monitor story in December that year, one ACT founder complained about “Josie and the Pussycats” being in Kellogg’s spots, wondering how children knew when the cartoon ended and the commercial began. Evidently she only knew really stupid kids.

Here’s a column from the Monitor of April 6, 1968 outlining the networks’ response to NABB and other whiners.

What about the TV cartoon ghetto?
By Louise Sweeney New York
A green monster lobster with huge claws that spew death rays. A headless thing wearing a cape fastened with human eyes. Living totem poles. Death mist, deadly sleep mists, paralyzing fogs. A cuckoo clock that tolls bullets. Hot lava traps. A dart game played with hatchets. Giant red-ant invasions. An electric Buddha that short-circuits its victims. A bronze karate robot that crushes its enemies to death.

That’s a random sampling of the free sadism, deformity, and violence available to any child who can turn a TV dial on Saturday morning. That grotesque collection comes from the cartoons offered by ABC, CBS, and NBC on a Saturday like this one. “Spiderman,” “Space Ghost,” “Frankenstein Jr. and the Impossibles,” “Shazzan,” “Journey to the Center of the Earth,” “Super President” (“his power was born in a molecular storm”), “Aquaman,” “Birdman,” “The Herculoids,” “Samson and Goliath,”—these are our national babysitters.
It’s estimated that 10 to 12 million children watch these cartoons, which bring $50 million a year into the three major networks. But recently there are indications that a change may be under way in the profitable cartoon field. Ironically, news of the change came the day after announcement of an $8 million nationwide educational-television nursery school, a series of one-hour programs designed to inform pre-schoolers entertainingly.
Growing criticism
Since the networks do their programing months in advance, they point out that the announcement of their new Saturday rundown was simply a coincidence. But as network officials admitted, the program changes are a response to the growing criticism of excessive violence in children’s shows by educators and parents. NBC announced that it would introduce a new hour-long format next fall in the 10:30-11:30 Saturday morning lineup. It will be a blend of music and comedy with live performers in animal costume, a live-action serial (“Danger Island”), a live-action and animated serial “Shipwreck on Mars,” and a “classic” cartoon based on “The Three Musketeers.” Alternating with this format will be rebroadcasts of five of the excellent “NBC Children’s Theater” specials like “The Enormous Egg,” “The World of Stuart Little,” and “Rabbit Hill.” The Kellogg Company is sponsoring the hour which is estimated to cost between $4 and $5 million.
Wild-life specials
CBS has announced a 2 1/2 –hour change in its Saturday cartoon schedule. It is inserting what the network calls a “comedy block,” from 8 to 10:30 a.m. which will include “The Go-Go Gophers,” “Bugs Bunny,” “The Roadrunner,” a car series called “Crazy Racers,” and “Archie,” a series based on the comic strip. CBS is also toying with the as-yet-unannounced idea of running a series of a half dozen wild-life specials produced by David Wolper on the order of a junior National Geographic show.
Over at ABC, “King Kong” and “The Beatles” are being moved to Sunday morning; they’ll be replaced by “The Adventures of Gulliver” and “Fantastic Voyage.” Ed Vane, ABC vice-president of daytime programing, says that the Gulliver cartoon will be based on the Jonathan Swift classic with a group of lilliputians added like the seven dwarfs for appeal and to stretch the series over 17 films. The “Fantastic Journey” cartoon, based on the film, will be about a group of “humanoids” capable of being miniaturized into any situation—traveling in snowflakes, perhaps, Mr. Vane suggests.
“But there will be no violence as we’ve come to describe it on existing schedules. . . . I don’t know what ‘violence’ means, anyway,” says Mr. Vane. “People say ‘eliminate violence, go back to funny shows for kids’—‘Bugs Bunny,’ ‘Porky Pig.’ But there was a lot of physical violence in those—the animals are tarred and charred, they frequently explode. I’m a little puzzled as to what they want to return to. There’s nothing wrong with telling a story, presenting adventure, conflict, collision....”

Fred Silverman, vice-president, daytime programming at CBS, says, “I don’t think there’s been as much violence as everyone says there is—there are implied threats more than actual ones. There’s nothing wrong with adventure programing, it’s been a staple for years, it goes back to fairy tales. ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ is very frightening to children, yet it’s considered a classic.”
Larry White, NBC daytime-programing vice-president, says “Violence . . . I don’t know what it really means any more. Is ‘The Three Little Pigs’ violent? Is ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ violent? I don’t quite understand what you mean by violent. Are these any less ‘violent’ than action-adventure shows? . . . What’s more frightening than ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’?”
Service or disservice
NBC’s Larry White says the network is “broadening the base of its children’s programing”; CBS’s Fred Silverman says the network “by introducing a comedy block on Saturday is providing a service, a balance. It was time for a change.” ABC’s Ed Vane says, “Yes, there are trends on Saturday morning as well as in other programing. The superhero approach that began two seasons ago is now in a natural decline. This means there is a trend toward comedy, toward the lighter approach. It’s still good to tell stories, but the resolutions now are amusing and lighthearted rather than straight dramatic situations.”
The spokesmen for all three networks say there has been relatively little mail from parents to pressure them into making the change. ABC’s Ed Vane estimates “something less than 100 letters a year” from viewers criticizing the cartoon ghetto. But he adds that petitions circulated by ad-hoc committees and mothers’ groups have been especially effective. CBS’s Fred Silverman says, “When you consider that these programs go into 5 million homes, there’s been only a small reaction. We receive only four or five letters a week.” NBC’s Larry White says cartoon mail runs “in the hundreds” there.
Next season, there’ll be an improvement in Saturday morning cartoons. But there are still enough cartoon grotesques on the schedule for a concerned parent to protest about to the networks. As Ed Vane at ABC admits, “Yes, to be candid, if this is the feeling, any network has to be responsive to its viewers.”

This still wasn’t enough for some critics. The Baltimore Sun’s Donald Kirkley, in the paper’s edition of October 26, 1969, objected to The Archies. Not because of the bubble-gum songs or the endlessly reused cycle animation. It was because of the inclusion of Sabrina, the teenage witch. Kirkley actually told his readers “Somebody should inform the children that a witch is a mortal who makes a compact with Satan in which he receives certain malevolent powers in return for her soul. Also, parents who watch and laugh at ‘Bewitched,’ should likewise be informed.” This isn’t tongue-in-cheek. The man was serious. We’ll bet he didn’t let his kids (if he had any) go out on Hallowe’en.

TV networks reacted further. Educational segments, such as Schoolhouse Rock (ABC) and In the News (CBS) were added, and are affectionately recalled by people who were young viewers at the time they aired. And then cartoon characters started pushing “correct” social behaviour.

If the idea was to somehow shield children from violence and nastiness in order to make the world a better place, we know how well that succeeded. And I suspect, even today, most kids would pick Bugs Bunny handing Yosemite Sam a package that blows him up instead of “The Big World of Little Adam.” Or Pat Boone.

Plane Minnie

Plane Crazy features several scenes where it appears something is coming right toward the camera. It must have looked pretty good in theatres in 1928.

Here, Mickey and Minnie are in a plane heading toward the audience.



But it turns out Mickey and Minnie fly under the camera.



We mentioned in an earlier post that Mike Barrier’s revealed Ub Iwerks started drawing this cartoon in late April 1928, with Ben Clopton doing some kind of assistant work until leaving the studio on May 12th.

Agony of the Feet

“And he’s tired. Yes, and his dogs are tired, too.” Cut to soldier Barney Bear’s shoes panting.



The see-them-a-mile-away puns don't stop there in The Rookie Bear. The narrator continues: "Pretty soon, they feel like, yes, hot dogs.” Guess what the shoes turn into?



"And if that rookie’s got any corns, they’re going to pop.” You know what’s coming.



Rudy Ising’s storyman mercifully remains unidentified in the credits. So does everyone else, despite the animation being top-notch. Fortunately, studios got most of these cringingly bad spot-gag shorts out of their systems in a few years.

TV Taboos

Bob and Ray once made a joke about how the Chesterfield cigarette jingle was sweeping America, but there was one place you would never hear it—on the Lucky Strike Hit Parade.

It seems somewhat ridiculous that the word “camel” could never be uttered on a radio show sponsored by Lucky Strike. The same with the word “lucky” on a series bankrolled by Kools. But such was the attitude of sponsors, which filtered (pun not intended) down to ad agencies, thence to the networks and, finally, to producers.

All of them were very skittish about content of advertising, and that carried over into the network television era. Here’s an interesting unbylined story from Variety of October 26, 1960, a time of quiz show scandals and concern over the dumbing-down of television (for kids and adults). Even squeaky-clean Ozzie and Harriet were forced to deal with a soft drink in only the approved manner. A side note is that General Mills was the sponsor of The Bullwinkle Show and made some somewhat ridiculous demands on the content of some of the cartoons. You’ll note the reference to not offending Canadians. Bullwinkle producers went ahead and made a very funny series about a really square and not-too-bright Mountie. No one in Canada, as best as I’m aware, was offended. But everything offends somebody.

Madison Ave’s Program Taboos
The clearest picture yet of Madison Ave.'s tv programming taboos, which range from an age limit for Coke drinkers to mention "competative" horses in an oater series, has been filed with FCC examiners during the Coast phase of their video probe.
Screen Gems programming veepee William Dozier, admitting under cross examination that sponsors (via their ad agencies) have ultimate say-so on "taste and policy," turned over four samples of written directives on program content from sponsors.
Represented in the sampling are food, cigaret, soft drink and drug sponsors.
There's a lengthy 22-point edict on "Television Program Policies" from General Mills, calling for "bulk American middle-class morals" in "our dramas," and a five-point list of "do's and dont's" from Miles Labs, prohibiting bellyaches among the animated Flintstone clan.
In between, McCann-Erickson declares for Liggett & Myers, "There is no possible way to provide an absolute list of 'do's and dont's.' " Please use your best judgment, bearing the following in mind: Liggett & Myers has bought the program to sell Chesterfields."
L&M's stated "do's and dont's," however, call for the following: "No portrayal of pipe or cigar smoking or chewing. Avoid shots of messy ashtrays crammed with cigaret butts. Use Kingsize Chesterfields only. Take cellophane off pack.
". . . While we do not want to create an impression of one continual, smoke-filled room, from time to time in the shows we feel 'natural' smoking action is a requisite by the cast. It should never be forced.
". . . There are many incidental ways the show can help. For instance, background shot of cigaret machine in restaurant, train or bus station—a poster or display piece in drug store—the end of a carton sticking out of a shopping bag.
L&M on Kid Smokes
"Smoking Age. This is a problem of 'looks' rather than actual age. Obviously, a 12-year-old should not be shown smoking. College age men and women can be pictured smoking without any fear of criticism . . . We don't want public criticism in encouraging the too young or 'too young looking' to smoke. On the other hand, the high school and college market is extremely important to Liggett & Myers as future longtime customers."
General Mills (Dancer-Fitzgerald, Sample) also has product protection and/or promotion as a prime objective, but the company's 22 policy points lay down restrictions that prohibit virtually everything but sheer heroism and abstract villainy. Statement warms with a criptic point on morals: "In general, the moral code of the characters in our dramas will be more or less synonymous with the moral code of the bulk of the American middle-class, as it is commonly understood . . ."
And on to types and organizations: "Ministers, priests and similar representatives of positive social forces shall not be cast as villains or represented as committing a crime, or be placed in any unsympathetic or antisocial role. If it is necessary in the development of conflict for a character to attack some basic conception of the American way of life, e. g., freedom of speech, freedom of worship, etc., answer must be completely and convincingly made some place in the same broadcast.
"There will be no material that may give offense either directly or by inference, to any organized minority group, lodge, or other organizations, institutions, residents of any state or section of the country, or a commercial organization of any sort. This will be taken to include political organizations; fraternal organizations; college and school groups; labor groups; industrial, business and professional organizations; religious orders; civic clubs; memorial and patriotic societies; philanthropic and reform societies (Anti-Tobacco League, for example); athletic organizations; women's groups, etc., which are in good standing.
Controversy: "There will be no material for or against sharply drawn national or regional controversial issues. There will be nothing slurring any given type of occupation. There will be no ridicule of manners or fashions that may be peculiarly sectional.
The North & The South
"We will treat mention of the Civil War carefully, mindful of the sensitiveness of the south on this subject."
"No written material may be used that might give offense to our Canadian neighbors or any uniquely national reason, e.g. facetious reference to British Royalty . . ."
To General Mills, it's the best of all possible worlds: "Where it seems fitting, the characters should reflect recognition and acceptance of the world situation in their thoughts and actions, although in dealing with war, our writers should minimize the 'horror' aspects . . . Men in uniform shall not be cast as heavy villains or portrayed as engaging in any criminal activity.

And: "There will be no material on any of our programs which could in any way further the concept of business as cold, ruthless and lacking all sentiment or spiritual motivation."
Re the product: "Special attention shall be given to any mention, however innocuous, of the baking business . . . Food subjects commercially treated can not be presented with program content that is unappetizing or tends to effect nausea upon the listener or viewer. If there is any question whatever about such material, it should be deleted."
As a final touch: ". . . References to other cowboy stars, such as Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy et al, should not be used in General Mills programs . . . Reference should not be made to other 'competitive' horses such as 'Trigger'; 'Silver,' et al."
Miles Labs, via Ted Bates agency, sets relatively simple taboos on the ABC-TV cartoon Flintstones —at least in the written statement. List of "do's and dont's" includes: "There should be no reference to headache, upset stomach, or the taking of remedies to relieve same. There should be no statement or situation in conflict with One-a-Day Brand Multiple Vitamins. There should be no taking of bromides or sedatives for which Nervine might be used. . . . There should be no representation of doctors, dentists, druggists (or drug remedies) in a derogatory manner, or in situations embarrassing to them as a group."
Helpful Hints for the Nelsons
For Coca-Cola, McCann-Erickson lays down "a few 'helpful hints' for the 'Adventures of the Nelson Family:' " ". . . One does not serve 'Cokes' or 'Coca-Cola.' One serves 'bottles of Coke.' One asks an assembled company, 'Will you (or you all) have a Coke?' or " . . . a bottle of Coca-Cola?" You may find it helpful-to think of Coke as the fluid, liquid product of the Coca-Cola Co. You would not say to a group, 'Let's have some waters.' You would offer them drinks or bottles of water."

It might be wise, says the memo, "to mention a few other things in connection with the appearance of Coca-Cola in television shows: "Children under 13 years of age should not be shown with Coca-Cola. When pouring Coca-Cola into glass, both bottle and glass should be tilted rim-to-rim, as in pouring beer. Ice should always be in the glass . . . It is preferable to see the entire logotype on the bottle (of Coke); if this is not possible, it is preferred that the first part (Coca) rather than the last part only (Cola) be seen . . . It is preferrable to stage the situation so that it appears that half-consumed bottles or glasses are not 'left behind' or allowed to sit for any length of time . . ."
From a source other than the FCC probe, comes this directive from Mars candy for "Circus Boy," who may be off tv due to a low calorie rather than rating count:
"Mars is very sensitive to the use of ice cream, soft drinks, cookies, competitive candy or any other item that might be considered competitive to candy in the actual film. For example, in Buffalo Bill Junior, they seriously objected to Judge Wiley telling Calamity Jane to take a dollar and purchase all the ice cream or cookies that she wanted. Mars would prefer not to see Mickey Braddock, for example, eating ice cream or drinking soft drinks, and the like. (Of course, they would prefer having him eating Mars candy bars!) So what Mars considers competitive really covers a whole variety of sweet goods and many products which would not ordinarily be as directly competitive as the average individual might think."

This self-regulation could be a little silly, but it was nothing compared to what happened when special interest groups put on more and more pressure as television became more and more of a money machine, especially when it came to cartoons and other children’s programming. We’ll look at that in a post this weekend.

No People!

“No people! No noise! No nothin’!!”, says The Cat That Hated People (from the cartoon of the same name). He gestures as he expounds on his new-found contentment. Here are some of the drawings. Tex Avery had some of the drawings exposed on twos, others on ones. Some of the in-betweens are evenly spaced out, while others make the action a bit jerky, which emphasizes the arm movements better.



The cartoon is Avery’s great patriotic allegory. In the end, the cat prefers the abuse he gets in the good ol’ USA than abuse in some incomprehensible foreign place because, by God, it’s America!

Walt Clinton, Grant Simmons, Louie Schmitt and Bill Shull are the credited animators.

Porky's Clim-axe

Evidently Bob Clampett and his buddy Flash Gee must have been bored with Porky Pig. In 1939, they turned him into a parody of Mr. Moto. Why? Just for something to do, I guess. It’s not even a particularly good one, as Porky’s Movie Mystery relies on stereotypes, verbally and musically (Carl Stalling plays “Japanese Sandman” in several spots).

The climax comes as Porky/Mr. Motto quickly stops the Invisible Man’s axe in mid-air and then fights him. There are five drawings used in a cycle.



Porky jumps out of the fight, gently lays down the axe, and resumes the fight.



The Invisible Man is suitably voiced by Billy Bletcher until he’s revealed at the end to be Hugh Herbert, when Mel Blanc voices him. Was Hugh Herbert ever funny?

John Carey is the credited animator. Izzy Ellis and Norm McCabe are in here somewhere, and there’s a bad edit about three-quarters of the way through the cartoon in circulation.

Tips on Tipping

There are only so many ways a star can promote their show before they look at a new way of doing it.

At one point, Jack Benny was appearing on two shows—his own, and then occasionally guesting on another CBS TV broadcast called “Shower of Stars” (ostensibly, the hosts were Bill Lundigan and Mary Costa, who spent most of their time plugging Chryslers). One of the newspapers giving Jack publicity for his appearances on Stars was the New York Herald Tribune, which gave short shrift to the show itself. Instead, the story was really a joke column playing on Benny’s reputation (on the air, not off) of going out of his way to avoid spending money.

This tongue-in-cheek piece ran on October 2, 1955. The photos with this post accompanied the article, though I don’t believe Ben Hogan appeared on the Stars show in question.

Take A Tip From Me . . . (if you can!)
By JACK BENNY
I realize that I have gained quite a reputation throughout the entertainment world, not only as a great actor, but also as a very economical person. This reputation still exists even though my income has been increased this year with a new television series, the “Shower of Stars” programs, which starts this Thursday night. I am doing five hour-long programs for my new sponsor in addition to my regular Sunday night television series.
I must admit that this legend is exaggerated as most legends are. Words get twisted as stories are retold, and somehow a great many people have the idea that I am stingy. That hurts. I’m not what you would call stingy, I just like to see good care taken of money.
Word has gotten around to waiters all over the country, and I have really been getting the business, come tip time. I think it’s wonderful, the game they play. First they tell me out of the corners of their mouths about a customer who just left a 50 cent tip and how they hate such a tightwad. Then as the soup is served, they begin looking under my plate and in the neighborhood of my elbow to give the idea that they haven’t forgotten. Eventually, after I have successfully ignored such childishness, they bring the change from my bill in nothing but quarters. The theory is that no one would want to go around with all that jangling silver weighting them down. Occasionally one will go so far as to say, “The management frowns on tipping, but like it,” or “I’m not greedy, I’ll settle for 10 per cent.”

Of course, none of these underhanded tactics makes the slightest impression on me because I just don’t like to leave tips. I smile and tell them I’ll get them the next time I come in. Another trick I use is to let them see me slip a dollar under the plate, then slip it out when they aren’t looking and leave in a hurry. They think the bus boy stole the buck and I get away with that for awhile. My best trick though is to wait until the waiter begins looking for his tip, and then ask him if I can borrow a fiver until next Tuesday. That one usually sends them running for cover.
The practice of tipping began innocently enough. It started back in the days of the old Romans when patrons used to leave a little wine in the bottom of each glass for the waiter to enjoy. This kind of tipping wasn’t bad. It made the waiters very happy . . . sometimes so happy that they weren’t in any condition to work the rest of the day. Before long, restaurant managers saw the faults in this system and encouraged their waiters to wheedle money out of the customers instead of wine. I have always contended that liquor led to bad habits, and this is proof of it, I think.
Tipping is too much trouble, anyway. For instance, your check is $2.35 plus eight cents tax. The question is; should your tip be 10% of the original bill, or 10% of the bill including tax? As I saw, it’s too much trouble to figure that out every time I leave a tip. I’d rather save myself the trouble and the money and forget the whole matter.
I could go on and on with reasons why I think that tipping should be abolished. But I think my own experience should convince you. Since I gave up tipping my mind has been completely at ease. Hat check girls used to irritate me. I stopped tipping them, and stopped wearing a hat. Now I not only save the money I would be tipping them, but I save the price of a new hat each year. I cut out tipping delivery boys by buying everything at a cash-and-carry store. I’m not bothered by the bell-boys or door-men when I’m in New York since the hotel gave me my own private entrance. It’s sort of an iron grated stairway that leads up to my window on the 15th floor. But it’s private, except for the one time we had a fire.
You never know what harm you can do by leaving a tip. Let me tell you a story about my cousin Edgar who persists in this foolish practice. One day Edgar was feeling particularly flush, and tossed a quarter tip to a waiter in a Miami nightclub. The waiter made a bee-line over to the slot machine in the lobby and dropped the coin in the slot. He hit the jackpot. When he took his winnings home that night, his wife accused him of filching it from the cashbox, and he ended up on the receiving end of a French heel right between the eyes. He woke up in the hospital to face a grand larceny charge, divorce proceedings and a hospital bill for $393.20. All that because of a tip.
Doesn’t that give us food for contemplation?

Making Tom, Jerry and Droopy

Who kept winning Oscars for short cartoons during the ‘40s? MGM. But the writers in the papers kept talking about Walt Disney.

Granted, they weren’t writing about short cartoons; they were commenting on or reviewing Disney’s features. But you’d think someone outside the trade papers would have noticed Fred Quimby dutifully picking up Oscars for the work of Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera for 1940, 1943, 1944, 1945, 1946 and 1948.

Well, a few people did. Here’s one example from the New York Herald Tribune, December 12, 1948. It’s a pretty blah example, an unbylined feature story mechanically outlining the step-by-step process in making a cartoon. You don’t get any sense of fun or comraderie at the studio. The thing I find interesting is the mention of sketch artists and a story group. Joe Barbera and Bill Hanna left the clear, unmistakeable impression years later that Barbera was the fountain of all Tom and Jerry stories, that he did the sketches. You’d swear he was the only one involved. But there were others. Cal Howard provided material for the first Oscar-winning Tom and Jerry short. Pinto Colvig was writing for MGM after returning West from the Fleischer studio in the early ‘40s. It’s a shame their efforts have been shoved to the background. (Conversely, Tex Avery’s cartoons gave screen credit to gagmen who, at least in Heck Allen’s case, claimed they didn’t do a lot).

Seven Months Work, Seven Minutes Play
HOLLYWOOD has long been considered a modern wonderland, where a fire, flood or earthquake can be dreamed up on five minutes notice by some of the most skilled technicians in the world. And nothing in all of Hollywood’s unique achievements ranks higher in technical skill or creative imagination than the production of today’s animated cartoon. Limited only by the fancy of its creators, the cartoon is an unhampered medium which allows the widest latitude in choice of subject matter and execution.
At the M-G-M cartoon studio, under the guiding hand of producer Fred Quimby, a staff of 150 devotes its full-time efforts to the creation and perfection of those miniature mixtures of mirth, music and mayhem—M-G-M technicolor cartoons. Although it takes only seven minutes for Jerry Mouse to outwit Tom Cat on the screen, it takes the complete staff seven months to produce one of these cartoons.
Since 1936, when M-G-M became the first and only major company to enter the field of cartoon production—which until then was left to a specialized few independent producers—producer Quimby and his staff have continued to experiment with new characters and new techniques.

What makes a cartoon character catch on with movie audiences? Successful ones don’t just happen. They are as much the result of careful planning as the making of any Hollywood star. When a movie studio wants a certain type for a picture, screen tests are made of several players. By the same token, when a new type of personality is needed for a cartoon role, several artists will be handed assignments to experiment until they develop a character whose personality fits the bill.
Likewise, when a new player shows screen promise, he or she is given a few bit parts in pictures before getting a chance for full stardom. And in the cartoon field, when the artists have evolved a new character and want to give him a “screen test” they’ll put him in a minor role in one of the cartoons—and then watch the audience reactions.
Tom and Jerry, the creations of two young artists, William Hanna and Joe Barbera, who head a unit at the Metro cartoon building, were first introduced in “Puss Gets the Boot,” as an experimental pair of feudists. The reaction was so good that they subsequently appeared in “Midnight Snack,” “Fraidy Cat,” “The Bowling Alley Cat,” “The Lonesome Heart,” “Puss ‘n’ Toots,” and others. In the past few years their popularity has grown to the extent where they achieved the status of cartoon stardom. Jerry Mouse climaxed his screen career by his sensational appearance in the combination live-action and animation sequence in the M-G-M musical hit, “Anchors Aweigh,” in which Jerry did those intricate dance steps with Gene Kelly.

The production of a cartoon is a highly integrated series of processes, most of them requiring a high degree of technical perfection. Once the story has been selected, gags and routines are discussed for weeks. Sketch artists make up thumbnail drawings of sections of the story, illustrating the gags. These are arranged in the form of a rough continuity for careful discussion by the entire story group.
Animators breathe life into the cartoon by preparing a succession of progressive drawings which suggest motion. Character and background are drawn separately. Individual drawings are made for every movement of action. Inkers and painters convert sketches into finished work. Workers known as in-betweeners fill in the actions indicated on the drawings by the animators.
While all this is going on, there are other phases of the production taking form. The musical director is working on the score, working closely with the director, so that the music will tally with the detail for time and effects.
When all the drawings have been completed in color, shooting begins. It takes more than 15,000 individual drawings, each separately photographed, to make a complete cartoon.

Phantom Rocket

Did the Van Beuren cartoonists like to drink a lot? There seems to be a drinking gag in a pile of their Tom and Jerry cartoons.

There are at least two in The Phantom Rocket (1933), a cartoon which seems to exist solely as an exercise to see if the staff can animate the rocket in perspective (the design changes from scene to scene). The first booze gag is near the start of the cartoon, where a trombonist spots a bottle of hootch in the back pocket of a dignitary at the launch ceremony. The dignitary reacts.



The timing of the cartoon is all messed up (not to mention the animation of the dignitary jerks as if several in-betweens were missing). The politico has one of those shake takes with a wavy outline of the character alternating with a smooth one. But you can see the tuba is already reacting. It would have worked better if the dignitary shook for maybe six or eight frames, then the tuba could move in and zap out a raspberry which sends the dignitary on his heels.



The story makes no sense in spots, and some of the gags are poorly executed, but this is a Van Beuren cartoon after all. However, Gene Rodemich provides an enthusiastic score.

Frank Sherman and George Rufle are the co-directors in this final T & J outing.