More Than The Riddler

Who was your favourite Bat-villain? (No, I will not accept Bob Kane as an answer).

I’m talking about the TV Batman show here, the one that never explained how a direct phone line could be installed in a secret cave without some Ma Bell cable layer knowing it was there and spilling the beans.

Especially toward the end of the series, some arch-criminals were more hammy than threatening. The original major villains were the best. To my young viewing sensibilities in 1966, the most unhinged was Frank Gorshin. His Riddler had that odd cadence to his voice that left you with the impression he wasn’t all there.

Naturally, way back then as a nine-year-old, I didn’t know anything about Frank Gorshin. Fortunately, TV Guide and other magazines came along that let people know about the background behind some of the actors on the show. It was then I discovered Gorshin was an impressionist, a skill which he never got to exhibit against the Caped Crusader. And, unfortunately, being the Riddler overshadowed all his other many talents.

I’ve found a pile of newspaper clippings about Gorshin from his time on Batman, but let me post a couple which pre-date the show so you can learn a bit about him and his attempts to make his career grow. This first one is unbylined, and comes from the Binghamton Press, November 10, 1962.

Gets Chance to 'Go Straight'
Frank Gorshin, one of the country's best known impressionists, began his career as a singer.
However, it is neither as a singer nor an impressionist that Frank has received his highest praise, but as an actor.
That talent will be most apparent to viewers of "The Fire Dancer" episode of Empire, in which Frank guest stars with regulars Richard Egan, Terry Moore, Anne Seymour and Ryan O'Neal, airing in color Tuesday on NBC-TV and Channel 40 at 8:30 p. m.
He doesn't remember a time when he was not entertaining somebody somewhere. While still in high school in his home town, Pittsburgh, Pa., he earned his living singing on weekends at special functions in Pittsburgh and the surrounding area for various civic and private organization functions.
It was while serving in the Special Services unit of the Army, when he was 20, that Frank first began to do impressions. It started when a fellow GI commented that he bore a strong resemblance to actor Richard Widmark.

For some years Frank had been "fooling around" with impressions of James Cagney and Al Jolson but never thought of doing anything about it professionally. However, with a little encouragement from his army buddies, Frank began to work on them.
Many people have commented on the fact that Frank seems to look like the people he is impersonating. For someone with as distinctive an appearance as Frank Gorshin it is not easy to "look like" some of the people he mimics. And Frank does not think he does.
He says "I once looked at a group of pictures of me doing impressions of people like Jolson, Rod Steiger, Charles Laughton and so on, and you know something? I though every picture looked like me."
He attributes his ability to "assume the attitude" of the person he portrays, in addition to perfect mimicry of the voice, with the reception he receives. Just before Frank was to be discharged from the Army, he got a pass to go to New York City for a weekend. Making the most of the opportunity, Frank walked into an agent's office, convinced him it would be worth while watching him perform, and for almost an hour did his complete "act," as he had been performing before GI's in Europe with his Special Services unit.
The agent was so impressed he signed him immediately, and before Frank's leave was over, he was cast In a motion picture, "The Proud and the Profane," in which he played a small role.
However, it was not until he was cast as the beatnik motorcyclist in the film "The Bells Are Ringing" that Frank really began to be noticed. In the few years since that time he has appeared in 15 major motion pictures; performed his act in some of the top night clubs in the country as well as on the Ed Sullivan Show and the Steve Allen Show on television, and was the recipient of critical acclaim for his guest star role on The Defenders last season.
It is as Billy Roy Fix, in Empire, that Frank has an opportunity to show what he can do as an actor. He will neither sing nor do impersonations. It is a straight dramatic role, and Frank feels it is the best show he has ever done.

This story is undated as well. It’s from the Gloverstown Leader Herald, March 30, 1964.

Talented Mimic Hopes or More Acting Roles NEW YORK—Frank Gorshin who stars in next Sunday's "Show of of the Week" on NBC entitled "Jeremy Rabbit, the Secret Avenger," told me four years ago when he was guesting on a Perry Como Show that a he wanted out of life was stardom and he wouldn't settle for anything less.
Four years have not dimmed. his ambition, but Frank now understands that one can make a pretty good buck in show business without the name in lights bit and all the anxieties which generally accompany it. "But I still want the top," he explained, "because you can't go on in this business if you settle for what you have."

Gorshin shares top billing with George Kirby as the two best mimics currently doing variety acts. The difference is that Kirby does not want to be an actor while Gorshin has had a modicum of success as a dramatic actor and finds the "mimic" tag a stumbling block in his quest for roles.
"As soon as I walk in a lot of directors say something like, 'oh . . . he's the mimic' . . . and I'm eliminated before I read," says Frank. "If they'd stop and think, they'd realize that mimics have to be exceptional actors before they can possibly create the illusion of mimicry."
Frank, who can do about 100 impressions, does a facial imitation of all his stars which have the audience applauding even before he does the voice. But this, according to Frank, is a complete fraud and only works because Gorshin is an accomplished actor.
"People say I look exactly like Kirk Douglas or Burt Lancaster when I imitate them," he explained, "but if I did those faces without an introduction the audience would think they were looking at Frank Gorshin contorting his face. It's a stage trick."
From Out of Nowhere
When Frank decides to honor a star by adding him to the Gorshin collection, he studies the performer's work and sees if the voice comes to him. Sometimes, it comes out of nowhere, as it did with Marlon Brando.
"I tried to do Brando for years," he said, "and I couldn't get it. Then, one day, when I wasn't even trying I was suddenly talking like Brando and here it was. I have enough voices to do a TV show like Sullivan's five or six times a season without repeating a voice. I'm doing less and less of Cagney," concluded Gorshin, because anybody at a party can do a Cagney simply by saying, 'You dirty rat.' This hurts me because it's my best imitation.

The Riddler was the debut villain when Batman began airing in January 1966. A story in the Saratogian on the 8th of that month quoted Gorshin as saying “I’m playing the guy straight down the middle, as seriously as possible. I visualize the Batman villains as Shakespeare did his badmen.” (The story also revealed he had turned down the lead in The Double Life of Henry Pfyfe. It didn’t have quite the impact of Batman).

Gorshin was quickly brought back to appear in another two-parter. But I recall reading during the run of the show that he was tired of the role and wanted to do something else. Whatever the reason, John Astin was completely miscast as the Riddler for one, two-part episode in season two before Gorshin returned in season three. A story in the Binghamton Press, July 9, 1966 talks a bit about it.

Gorshin Emerges From the Unknown
By MIMI MEAD
Special Press Writer
New York—A nasty rumor has been going around the country, smiting the hearts of the little ones with sorrow and confounding the high hopes of the campy set. The rumor was to the effect that Frank Gorshin had decided to give up being The Riddler on Batman and turn his attentions exclusively to impersonations and singing on the night-club curcuit.
All may now rest easy: Frank has no intention of leaving the show or the role. He is a thoroughly accomplished entertainer and a superb impersonator, bat it was the Riddler that pushed him over the top.
"I'd been around for a long while," he commented the other day while in New York for a gala Bat show at Shea Stadium. "Over ten years people get to know the face and they sort of think, 'oh yeah' when you appear, but the Riddler was the final catalyst that made me known everywhere, and by name. It's been quite a whirl, and I'll stay with the show as often as they want me — if I have the time," he added in an off-hand way, striking a Bat lover's heart with the icy fingers of doubt.
* * *
BY HAVING the time, he means that he is now involved in a hectic and pressured schedule. He is currently taping guest appearances for a television series next season, and starring in "What Makes Sammy Run" in Los Angeles for two weeks.
"That's a funny one," Gorshin remarked with the lopside smile for which he has become famous. "I play a 65-year-old man in the first episode of the new show, T. H. E. Cat, and then in the beginning of 'Sammy' I'm 19 years old. It's great: when we were taping, I was 19 in the morning and 65 at night." Frank was "discovered," originally, by Steve Allen, who found him working for peanuts in a small Los Angeles nightclub. He was doing some of his incredible impressions of celebrities, and within two weeks he was doing them on television before millions of people.
From then on, it has been upwards all the way until at this point he has done more than 70 guest shots, both dramatic and variety, including The Defenders, Show of the Week, Combat, Alfred Hitchcock, Andy Williams, Jack Parr [sic], Sammy Davis, Jr., and on and on and on.
* * *
"I'VE BEEN offered several TV series," he said, punctuating his conversation with the pointing finger-jabs used by the Riddler, "but I'm not interested. I've been offered two Broadway shows, but I don't want to constrict my endeavours, if ya know what I mean. I am not 'planning' anything in my career. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labors."

His impressions are among his labors, and he is unable to explain how they come about. Unlike many impersonators, he doesn't sit down study his subject, looking for particular gestures or tricks of the face.
"I don't look for things. It all started a long time ago, when I was a kid, and I used to spend all my time in the movies. Well, when I used to come out of the theater, for a short time I WAS whatever person I had just seen: James Cagney, George Raft, anybody. I still do it. For instance, I think of Cary Grant or Burt Lancaster and right away I've just assumed their personality. I can't tell you how I do it, because I don't know.
* * *
"BUT I'LL tell you one thing," he went on, in the nasal, staccato voice that can change so quickly to any timbre, "everybody is an individual in this world. There's nobody you can't imitate if you really want to. Even if you have a plain face, or a face with no special characteristics at all, you stand out because you are so unexceptional compared to other people. There's nobody that can't be impersonated."
Frank and the rest of the Batman gang have just finished shooting a Batman feature movie, which will have the usual gaggle of villains: the Penguin, the Joker, the Riddler and Catwoman.
"It's going to be a funny, funny show," Frank said with glee. "It's got all the same Bat stuff in it. but they've added a few things, like a Batcopter and a Batboat. It's premiering in Austin, Tex. Aug. 1, and they're hoping President Johnson will come.
"You know," he mused, "it's a funny thing about this whole Batman series. You don't need a frame of reference to enjoy it. It's the No. 1 show in Japan,for instance, and they never grew up on the comic book or saw the terrible old movies.
"It's funny. Out of all my appearances on TV, I did three—one for Naked City, one for The Defenders and one for The Doctors and the Nurses—and everybody said, 'Oh gee, you ought to get an award for that performance' and well, I sort of thought and sort of hope. But this Batman thing came along and it was the last thing in my mind, but I got an Emmy nomination. It sure is funny."

The Devil You Say

A pan to the right reveals the Devil reading and lighting a cigarette on a nearby flame at the start of the Private Snafu short Hot Spot (1945).



Friz Freleng cuts to a closer shot and you’ll see something on the cave wall that isn’t in the pan shot—a woman with her breasts exposed. That’ll keep those military boys awake!

Paul Julian is likely responsible for the background from a layout from Hawley Pratt. Hal Peary, the Great Gildersleeve, plays the Devil.

Abou Ben Bouncing Ball

Pat Matthews truly was a star animator for Walter Lantz in the 1940s, and his work deserves to be better known. He animated some wonderful dance sequences, some comic, others not.

Maybe his best-known work is on the two cartoons featuring “Miss X,” who Lantz had to ditch after because of skittish censors. The second release was Abou Ben Boogie (1944). It’s pretty much conceded by animation historians that Miss X was inspired by the singing, dancing Red, animated by Preston Blair in the Tex Avery cartoons. Matthews animated Miss X on twos (one drawing shot on two frames of film) but that didn’t hurt the movement at all.

Here are some of the drawings from the dance sequence (reused later in the cartoon; Lantz pinched pennies when he could) by Matthews. Miss X rolls Abou Ben Boogie up into a ball before her butt bounces him out of the frame.



Matthews’ Miss X dance sequence in Lantz’s The Greatest Man in Siam (also 1944) was debatably better than this, but these are sure some nice drawings. And his camel dance scene in this cartoon is tops; some of the best comedy animation ever in a Lantz cartoon. Learn more about who worked on this cartoon in this post from Devon Baxter on Jerry Beck’s site.

61. But Who Cares?

Yet another “Jack Benny: fact or fiction” feature story surfaced in the Albany Times-Union of April 17, 1955. There were some nice stock photos of young Jack you may have seen before but the copies we have are pretty much unviewable. However, we can view the text, which is transcribed below:

Brace yourself — just a little.
Jack Benny was not born in Waukegan, is not stingy, has as much hair as the next man—and is not 39.
In point of fact, Mr. Benny turned a thriving 61 on St. Valentine's day, 1955, and does not especially care who knows it.
All this, of, course, is in reference to the well-known star of stage, screen, radio and CBS television, who as it turns out is not so well known at that. Naturally, nobody ever really thought all these things about Jack. Not really.
Eh? They didn't?
You should read his mail sometime.
For example, even among the residents of Waukegan, you can get yourself a fat bet on that birthplace business, and the town, a suburb of Chicago, has actually posted the information that Benny is its native son.
But no. On that February 14, 1894, his mother was in a Chicago hospital. And the name of her infant was not Jack Benny, but Benny Kubelsky, and it still is.
Now and then radio and television audiences turn splenetic over how close Jack is with a nickel. So who you think paid for his daughter's wedding, one of the most expensive in the expensive history of Beverly Hills, California? It certainly wasn't Bob Hope.
It is true that Benny is generally considered a millionaire, but he made it. It wasn't a stashing-way process.
The toupee bit is something else again. It is one of Benny's professional conceits that he must wear them. He bears down on the subject in public appearances. But it ain't so. His hair's his own. He has a good deal of forehead, yes, but not a scalp dolly to his name.
In other respects, the real-life Benny, whose 39-plus-22 years of existence will be briefly explored in a moment, might well surprise you.
The extraordinary musical voice he employs on TV to range from bafflement to cowardice is, away from the microphone, a tiny pitch deeper than the one you hear —and perhaps 40 times firmer and more authoritative. Indeed, the change startles one not looking for it. This matter is not easy to explain, but very easy to recognize.
And there's one more thing.
He plays the violin pretty well.
In fact, to get on with the deal, he ought to. It was one of the first accomplishments he essayed after having been born, this maestro who is not truly 39.

Benny was the son of a man who had a so-so clothing store—in Waukegan, uh-huh—and supported his family in moderate style. Jack, that is, Mrs. Kubelsky, and a younger sister of Jack's, Florence, whom he mentions not at all on the air, with the result that her existence is not often suspected.
Well, Jack began ushering in a local theatre while still in grammar school, and wasn't out of knickerbockers when he began playing the fiddle in the pit. That went on through high school as well; along with membership in the high school orchestra and our hero was 15 when he became part of a vaudeville duo with a Miss Cora Salisbury. These two got around quite a lot, with Miss Salisbury succeeded in time by a Chicago pianist name of Lyman Woods.
Understand, Benny was still fiddling. There was no inkling yet that he could make his audiences laugh.
Still and all, Benny and Woods were booked into London's famed Palladium, a spot to which Benny was later to return with infinitely more fanfare.
Now comes World War I and enlistment in the Navy. Benny, through no particular desire of his own, served his hitch at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station. He was a sailor, a fund-raiser and, at last, a funnyman. He played the violin less and he talked more, which seemed to be a very smart switch.
After a while, he fiddled not a stroke and talked incessantly. The violin became a prop. That was the best combination of the lot.
At war's end, Benny became a single—show business for Just what it sounds like No partner. He was first Ben K. Benny and then simply Ben Benny. But there was a chap around named Ben Bernie, which was too close for comfort. Jack Benny was the end result.
Benny became very big in vaudeville and in revue circles.
Even got out to Los Angeles, as luck would have it, where he met a girl named Mary who was working in the big May Company department store. You know, of course, about Jack and Mary by this time.
Then something rather big happened. Radio spurted out of its crystal set incubus into loud speakers and networks. It occurred to Benny that might be for him. He debuted with Ed Sullivan in 1932, and if posterity cares to make a note, his first words on the air were: "Hello, folks. This is Jack Benny. There will be a slight pause for everyone to say, 'Who cares'".
Somebody must have cared.
Benny became not only hot but the very hottest comic giving out over the airways. And one of most durable.
He shifted his radio activities to Hollywood in time, and made a pot full of pictures while he was at it. Some were good, some not so good, and one was The Horn Blows at Midnight, an effort said to be in truth so painful to Benny that he has to make jokes about it.
And finally, television.
Not that radio was dropped or that picture making is out of the question.
But—television.
It appears to be his happiest medium.
So Jack Benny isn't 39 after all—and do you care?
And this was the fast run-through on his 61 distinguished years to date.

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.