Manhattan

Why, oh, why, didn’t background artists get credit on cartoons from the beginning? Mouse in Manhattan (MGM, 1945) has some beautiful background paintings but whoever was responsible never got their name on the screen.

Joe Barbera and his gag writer plopped Tom and Jerry in the countryside for the sake of the plot in this cartoon (Mark Kausler suggests a reason in the comment section). The mailbox is on an overlay.

Then come these drawings of Grand Central Station and then the mouse-eye view of the streets of the city. Oh, if the long pan painting of the interior of the station had survived! You’ll notice how Loew’s State in Times Square is promoting a certain MGM cartoon duo.



Harvey Eisenberg, as best as I know, was still in the Hanna-Barbera unit at this time and may have been responsible for the layouts.

Some time ago we posted frames from a later scene where the city turns vicious and cats are ready to pounce on Jerry.

Scott Bradley and his arranger did a beautiful job of incorporating “Manhattan Serenade” into the score. This remains one of my favourite Tom and Jerry cartoons.

Magician on the High Seas

McHale’s Navy was accused, in some quarters, of being a seagoing Bilko. The two sitcoms really weren’t the same. Despite a large cast, Bilko was completely dominated by Phil Silvers. McHale let other cast members besides Ernie Borgnine shine, with the Joe Flynn-Tim Conway relationship grabbing a good percentage of the laughs.

Silvers’ Bilko was a brash conman. Borgnine’s McHale was more of a growly guy who had problems putting up with ignorant authority figures. If anything, Carl Ballantine’s Gruber was more like Bilko in that he was a fast-talker with some kind of scheme.

The McHale’s characters weren’t terribly fleshed out (did anyone miss Gavin McLeod after he left?) but I always liked Ballantine’s performance. I had no idea at the time the show aired that he had been a stage magician, and a very funny one. I’ve dug up a couple of stories about him after he was cast on the show. First we go to the King Features Syndicate in a feature column published November 13, 1962. The second is from the Philadelphia Inquirer, April 7, 1963.

Went From Legerdemain To The 'Bounding Main'
By HARVEY PACK
A vaudeville act has gone straight. Carl Ballantine, known for the past ten years as The Amazing Mr. Ballantine, has traded in his bag of ineffective magic tricks for a sailor's suit and a berth on "McHale's Navy."
"I've always been an actor," explained the fast talking Ballantine, "but now I'm doing it with other guys. After all. to get up on a stage and do a comedy act as a bad magician is a form of acting."
Ballantine wasn't always a bad magician . . .his intention was to be a good one. "But who needed good magicians?" he asked. "Every kid who wanted to break into showbiz had gone through the magic stage as a kid, and most of tricks to the booking agents. I developed the Amazing Mr. Ballantine as a comedy routine, but the first time I tried it out the audience didn't dig the bit and I was virtually thrown off the stage. The act first clicked in a Chicago theatre, and I've been making a living by net puffing rabbits out of a hat ever since."

Carl is practically type-cast as the head wise guy in Ernest Borgnine's crew. As Lester Gruber he generally comes up with the wild ideas, like blowing an air raid siren to get the nurses into a shelter for a dance. Fans of the show may have noticed that Lester Gruber never stops for a laugh, and they often miss the next few lines because they're busy chuckling at a gag.
"How was I to know that they insert laughs after funny lines?" Carl said. "Now I'm wise to the trick. I noticed that Joe Flynn who plays the captain always stopped for a beat after a good line, but it didn't make any sense to me because there was no audience on the set. Flynn is a veteran of three TV situation comedy shows, and when I caught the first episode at home I realized he was waiting for the laugh track. Watch me slow down on the next group of episodes we shoot."
Not only is Carl Ballantine now a successful TV actor, but he inadvertently pulled the biggest trick of his career and saved the entire 10 per cent agent's commission on the job. "I signed up with MCA because they promised to get me acting roles," he continued. "The nearest I came was an audition for a 'Surfside Six.' Then they got me this job on 'McHale's Navy,' and the next day I received a legal letter from them informing me that there no longer was an MCA talent agency and, therefore, I didn't owe a commission."
Carl's wife, Ceil Cabot, is one of the stars of Julius Monk's intimate cafe revue which is playing a New York hotel located some 3,000 miles away from the set of "McHale's Navy." "That's the only bad part of this whole deal," explained the magician. "But she'll be joining me in January and, for a while, I hope she'll do all her performing in the kitchen. She could play clubs in Los Angeles, but they're disappearing as fast as vaudeville magicians."
Even though he's put the tricks in mothballs, actor Ballantine does not really intend to bury the character which earned him his keep for ten years. "I can still do an engagement in Las Vegas if the timing is right, and my TV fee has gone up as a result of the show," said Carl. "The only trouble is that sponsor conflict keeps me off a lot of programs I used to play regularly."
The producers of "McHale's Navy" plan to do flashback episodes telling what each member of the cast supposedly did in civilian life. This will give TM2-C Lester Gruber a chance to do his magic act, and it should be a funny show.

‘The Great Ballantine’, Sans Magic, Proves He’s an Actor
By HARRY HARRIS
THIS week a tall, blond, blue-eyed Chicagoan named Myer Kessler will be featured in two different guises on two different programs. In Perry Como's Easter show, Wednesday at 9 P. M. (Channel 3), he'll try to conjure up an appropriate-to-the-season rabbit.
In ABC's "McHale's Navy," Thursday at 9:30 P. M. (Channel 6), he'll be up to weekly tricks of another kind. Both ways, he'll elicit yocks.
Kessler, who claims he usually sees his real name only on licenses, income tax forms and similar documents, will masquerade Wednesday as Carl ("The Amazing Mr.") Ballantine and Thursday as TM2 Lester Gruber.
These are the current Kessler pseudonyms. He's had others.
"When I was a kid in Chicago, maybe 12, 13," he reminisces, "the other kids used to call me 'Gypper Jonas'—'Gyp' for short. Like Gruber, I was a con artist I guess I'm typecast. It's a part I've been doing all my life.
"I was always conning people. I'd swipe papers and resell them. Now it's all honest, but I still feel a little bad when I pick up my check."
He has used Carl Ballantine as a nom-de-hocus-pocus since 1938.
"A year earlier," he recalls, "I did a legitimate magic act in Chicago with a mustache and a long robe as Count Marakoff.
"My big finish was to produce a glass of beer from nowhere, toast the audience and walk off. I was just a kid. In fact, I was too young to drink beer.
"I stopped being Count Marakoff after three months and became Carl Sharpe—a river gambler type. See, even at an early age I was a character actor! I did tricks with poker chips, cards and money. At the finish, I'd produce a lot of dollar bills, one at a time.
"Then came Carl Ballantine. I got the name off a bottle of Scotch, but I wasn't drinking at the time. I don't drink."
The fact that his name could just as readily have come off a bottle of beer hasn't cost him any jobs, as far as he knows.
"I used to guest on Ken Murray's old variety shows that were sponsored by Budweiser," he notes. "There's quite a list of guys who could be out of work because their names are products—George Gobel, he's a beer, too; Tennessee Ernie Ford . . .
"I've been using a sign, 'Ballantine, World's Greatest Magician,' since my first television show in 1949—I've been on TV ever since it started, first with Lanny Ross, one of the first 'Sullivans,' Kaye Kyser, James Melton, Milton Berle—but the last show I did for Ed Sullivan, last summer, the sponsor said, 'Take the sign off; it's subliminal advertising.'
"After that, I taped Como's Easter show, and I took no chances. No sign."
Sponsor conflicts have kept him off several video variety shows lately—among them Jack Paar's and Sullivan's—but they've had to do with the products advertised on "McHale's Navy."

Although he still accepts engagements as the Amazing Mr. Ballantine, the rapid-fire magician who can do no right (he's slated, for instance, for a four-week stand at a Las Vegas club during "McHale's" May hiatus), he'd like to retire his dress suit and magic props.
"I tried to junk the act 20-odd years ago," he reports. "If anyone had only said then, 'You're the type'—for any part!
"Jobs do come up. If a fellow says, 'Be here at 9, after dinner, in your dress suit,' I'm there. But if things go good with 'McHale's Navy,' eventually I hope to work in a sailor suit.
"I had quite a few disappointments. I auditioned for the Nathan Detroit role in 'Guys and Dolls' and they said I wasn't the type. I was turned down for 'Bilko.' And for 'A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.'
"If I had been turned down a few more times, it's a cinch I'd be throwing that dead chicken around for the rest of my life.
"It's a little tough to do nothing, and that's what I do in the act: nothing. I feel better now as Gruber, because I'm doing something."
He has never considered the Amazing Mr. Ballantine a magic act.
"Whenever my name would come up for a part," he says, "they'd ask, 'Can he act?' I'd say, 'Well, what kind of an act do I do?' and they'd say, 'You're a magician.' 'See,' I'd say, 'that proves I'm a great actor!'
"Magicians don't consider me a magician. I don't belong to any of their organizations. I'm lucky to pay my dues even in the Screen Actors Guild.
"The only time I've portrayed a magician—as Merlin, in 'Tennessee Ernie Meets King Arthur'—I was very bad. It's the worst thing I ever did. Lee J. Cobb directed it, and I did what he said. But I couldn't even play a magician!" Not any more, anyway. In earlier days, he admits, he was "quite proficient in the art of conjuring."
He first became interested as a child, because the family barber performed tricks between shearings.
"This old man, carrying a tiny bag, would come to our house," he recalls. "He used to take care of the whole family, I think, for two bucks.
"Later, when I was about 9, I'd go to a movie every Saturday and each week they'd give away a different magic trick. I collected them.
"The average comedian wants to do Hamlet. I did Hamlet first—at Herzl High, where I was active in the drama club. It was just for assembly, but I thought it was a pretty good Hamlet. I had no trouble remembering lines then; it's harder now.
"I didn't finish high school. I don't remember my first professional engagement; heck, I don't remember my first 'McHale's Navy!'
"It was rough landing jobs. I was fired for having 'the world's worst magic act.' Nobody seemed to understand what I was trying to do.
"Everyone said, 'You've got to have a finish—one legitimate trick, fake dancing, "The Stars and Stripes Forever' on the xylophone, something!' but I insisted, 'I open with nothing and I close with nothing.'
"It was four years before the act caught on and I started getting a little more work. Then I went to New York and was hired by Billy Rose for his Diamond Horseshoe and stayed there two years. The difference was that the audience knew I wouldn't do the tricks. It was like knowing an old joke, but loving to hear it all over again.
"I kept up to date, put in new lines. Now, when I do a bird trick, I say, 'Let's see the Bird Man of Alcatraz do something with that!"
To accept the "McHale's Navy" role, he bypassed "semi-regular" status on "Car 54, Where Are You?" as co-star Joe E. Ross' brother-in-law and took a steep pay cut—"over 200 percent."
"But I'm happy playing Lester Gruber," he says enthusiastically. "It's something I really like. The other is just a way to make a living.
"The 10 guys in the show love each other, and they're all crazy about Ernie Borgnine. There's a lot of kidding around, but when the chips are down, everybody's in there working.
"I'm in every episode, not always prominently—sometimes I just carry a barrel, sometimes my part is one I could telephone in, two 'sides.' But there are always ad libs. And big part or small part, the money's the same—$2!
"It's a gamble, but on a show like this you're liable to show up good and it can lead to other things."
Married to comedienne Ceil Cabot, Kessler-Ballantine doesn't consider himself a full-time fast-talking extrovert. At home," he says, "my wife and I are quiet cats. It's our 8-yearold daughter, Sara, we have to hold down. She's powerful!
"She'll probably be a comedienne. She's absolutely a natural, 100 proof. She sings, dances, delivers lines, clowns, has a great memory. I think she may become a big star!"

The PT-73 jumped a shark in the waters off Taratupa after three seasons. The producers apparently ran out of ideas for a South Seas setting and plunked the show’s location in southern Italy. It lasted another year, enough to give it a number of episodes that would allow the producers to sell it into syndication and give Ballantine more exposure to youngsters like me. Meanwhile, Ballantine kept working. Variety reported on occasion his distinctive voice was to be heard on radio spots, and he even popped up on TV once in a while, looking older and a little slower.

Newspaper obits talk about how Ballantine set the standard for comedy magic shows and was respected in the business. He was 92.

P.S. As an after-thought, it came to me that TV writer/producer/magic fan Mark Evanier wrote about Ballantine once. You can find his personal remembrance HERE.

Rascally Rabbit, 1920s-style

It’s a cartoon routine worthy of Bugs Bunny—except it happened in 1925.

Julius the cat captures a wily wabbit in Alice Gets Stung. The rabbit then emotes a tale of woe to gain Julius’ sympathy and her release. Two other rabbits assist, emerging from a hole and playing “Hearts and Flowers” on violins.



The tale continues about multiple young rabbits sobbing and crying for their mother. It seems to me Daffy Duck pulled off a story of children to avoid violence in at least two cartoons.



The tearful Julius agrees to set the rabbit free.



Ah, but it’s all a ruse. The rabbit was only joshing. Ooooh, that twickster!



Ub Iwerks isn’t credited, but animated on this short, along with Rollin C. (Ham) Hamilton.

Dad Gum Television

The cattle rancher chases sheepherder Droopy into a saloon and urges the men inside to “shoot him down.”



Four consecutive frames.



The wolf hears gunfire. He peers inside the saloon.



A long pan from right to left.



“Dad gum television,” complains the wolf.



There are great scenes aplenty in Drag-a-long Droopy (released 1954), with Tex Avery himself playing the wolf (Bill Thompson is Droopy). Ray Patterson, Bob Bentley, Mike Lah, Grant Simmons and Walt Clinton are the animators.

Fiddling With Farewell

The calendar changed to 1973 and even though Jack Benny was about to turn 79, he kept right on going.

You couldn’t blame him if he wanted to quit, considering his age and his very comfortable financial situation. But it just wasn’t in him. However, he did tell the entertainment columnist for the Newspaper Enterprise Association that would like to slow down a bit. “Slowing down” really only happened the following year when he became too ill to perform and then pancreatic cancer quickly claimed him.

This column is, more or less, a plug for a TV special, but columnist Kleiner put a few other questions to him as well, including broaching the idea of just staying at home and relaxing. It first appeared in papers on January 5, 1973.

He Fiddles with Retirement
By DICK KLEINER
HOLLYWOOD —(NEA) — For the first time since I've known him the word "retirement" didn't make Jack Benny grimace.
Like most veteran performers — and remember that Benny is pushing 40—he's scoffed at retiring. But this time, when the subject came up, he scoffed not.
"I don't think I'll ever retire fully," he said. I'll always do concerts. I love them because they involve the two things I love the most, talking and playing the violin — but I am trying to cut down.
"I want to take it a little easier from now on. But it isn't easy to take things easy. You get involved."
He pulled out his schedule and showed how involved a star can get. There was a long list of appearances but most of them were benefits. He says if you say yes to one, it's hard to say no to some other.

He says the whole list of his dates includes only a couple that mean any money coming in. One of these is his NBC show. Jack Benny's First Farewell Special, coming on Jan. 18, with RCA picking up the whole tab.
"I have to do a TV shot or a special once in awhile," Jack says, "to prove to the nation at large that I'm still living."
He says if he does a benefit in Philadelphia or plays Las Vegas for a few weeks, the people in Philadelphia and Las Vegas know about it. but nobody else does.
"You have to have some national exposure." he says, "or else the whole country thinks you're either dead or retired."
He has a contract for another NBC special, which will probably be called Jack Benny's Second Farewell Special, and is tentatively slated for spring.
He says he thinks his first farewell special is good but he stresses the word "thinks." He says he'd be surprised if it wasn't good but adds that a performer can never really be sure about these things.
"We generally do pretty well if we start out with a good idea," he says.
And he thinks this farewell idea is a pretty good one. His manager, Irving Fein, thought it up, although Benny says it goes back in the dusty history of show business to such greats as Sarah Bernhardt and Sir Harry Lauder.
"I worked with some good writers on it," he says. "And, actually, I've always thought that I was a much better editor than I was a comedian. You know you can be a good comedian but if you're not a good editor you're in trouble.
"We've spent hours already editing my special and we're not through yet. Editing is a very important part of the business."
He says he may come up with an idea. He bounces it off his writers. Maybe six on a special. He says he won't use his idea, no matter how great he thinks it is, unless four of the six agree.
Benny says this may be one of the reasons many young comedians trip on their way up the ladder. They come to have too much faith in their own ideas and disregard the cautioning words of others.
But he says there are some young comics he enjoys. He singles out Flip Wilson — "but he's been in the business a long time, don't forget"—and Bob Newhart.
"You have to give a lot of credit to any young comedian today," he says. "They didn't have the schooling my generation had. We had a chance to be bad, before we were good."

Max Fleischer in Vaudeville and Receivership

Max Fleischer could have been a vaudeville star. At least according to one trade magazine.

In the mid-1920s, Fleischer made periodic appearances on radio. And, for reasons unknown today, he made one appearance on the vaudeville stage.

Unlike Winsor McCay, he didn’t interact with one of his animated creatures, like he did in his one-reel cartoons. In fact, the whole thing seems pretty off-the-cuff, judging by the description in The Billboard of May 8, 1926. (“In One” means Fleischer appeared on stage in front of the curtain).

MAX FLEISCHER
Reviewed Thursday evening, April 29, at the Premier Theater, Brooklyn, N.Y. Style—Monolog and dancing. Setting—In one. Time—Ten minutes.
Max Fleischer, the cartoonist, who achieved fame thru his Out of the Inkwell one-reel animated pictures and his clown, Ko-Ko, made a special appearance at this theater for one day only. He characterized himself in his talk as “one of the neighbors,” asserting that he had been born and reared in the vicinity of the theater and proved his assertion by naming schools, teachers and places in the neighborhood which were readily recognized by many in the audience. Hence, his appearance was in the nature of paying homage to a local celebrity.
In addition to the interest occasioned by the “personal appearance” of any character of wide reputation, especially if he be connected with the stage or movies, the act, if it may be so termed, was worth while on other counts. Fleischer recounted how he conceived the idea of making animated movies that wouldn’t be so crude and jumpy as the old ones, how he worked out the idea with his brother, Dave, and how it was finally perfected until it reached the stage where he could turn the film cartoons out weekly—his first one, by his own admission, took him more than a year to complete.
Since vaudeville audiences are well acquainted with these one-reel comedies, it is but natural that their curiosity should be piqued as to how they were made. The audience, this evening, gave every indication of being much interested, for they listened intently and responded enthusiastically. Fleischer’s intimate way of talking, his droll sense of humor and his personality, in addition to the “homey” aspect of the offering, helped put it over.
If the cartoonist found the time, and also the inclination, he could easily work up an act that would get over nicely in metropolitan vaudeville. His daughter, Florence, a pretty and vivacious girl in the midst of her teens, with an unbobbed head of red curls, could help daddy out very well in such an act. At the end of his talk, he introduced her to the patrons and she did as hectic and expert a Charleston as any professional could do. It might not be a bad idea to dress her in the Pierrot makeup that Ko-Ko prances about it and put her on after a short film in which the clown does his stuff. With his explanatory talk, and the working up of a routine that would include some sketching to illustrate that talk, a short film and the closing Charleston by Florence, Fleischer could put on an act that would be a worth-while novelty. P.H.

This, and the reception his Koko cartoons received from audiences, may be the only positive things that Fleischer received in 1926. He was beset with problems elsewhere.

Actually, he had troubles the previous year when he took four ex-employees to court. You should recognise the names. Ben Harrison and Manny Gould went to work for Charles Mintz producing Krazy Kat cartoons, first silent, then in sound. Burt Gillett became a top director for Disney before chucking it all in 1934 to move back to New York to run the Van Beuren studio. And Edith Vernick returned to work for Fleischer and eventually became head of the in-between department.

This is from Billboard, September 12, 1925.

Max Fleischer Charges Employees With Piracy
Brings Suit To Restrain Four From Using His Process

New York, Sept. 7—Max Fleischer, originator of the Out of the Inkwell cartoons, has brought suit in the New York Supreme Court asking a restraining injunction against four former employees who, he alleges, have stolen ideas which he invented and are using them for commercial purposes.
The defendants named are Burton Gillette, Emanuel Goldman, Benjamin Harrison and Edith Vernick.
Fleischer alleges in his affidavits that two of the processes used in the Out of the Inkwell series have been used by the quarter above named. These are what he called the “cut-out” system and the “reverse color and action system.” Altho animated sketches are used by a number of cartoonists in motion pictures, Fleischer uses one which seems to be unique. This is the introduction of a live character in his pen and ink sketches, and it is probably this method that he seeks to protect.
The cartoons have to do with a clown who comes out of his inkwell, and who, at the conclusion of the picture, dives back whence he came. Into the actions of this clown Fleischer introduces himself, lifesize, a trick which he claims has been heretofore unknown and which is original with him. While many guesses have been hazarded as to the method employed in drawing these cartoons, Fleischer alleges that until recently no one knew of the actual process except himself and the four defendants.
In the complaint Fleischer alleges that he is president of the Out of the Inkwell Company, Inc., and that he employed the four defendants to work in his plant, imparting to them, of necessity, the method of drawing the cartoons and training them in its use. Shortly afterward, he alleges, the four left him and organized for themselves the A.A. Studios, Inc., for the purpose of operating them with the same processes as those used by Fleischer, making use of the knowledge they gained while with him. This, he avers, they are continuing to do.
Fleischer is represented by Finklestein & Welling, No. 36 West 44th street, New York.

Fleischer’s big problems, though, involved his Red Seal Pictures Corporation, formed in September 1923, which distributed not only the Fleischer cartoons, but a number of independent shorts and features, including the “Animated Hair” sketch cartoons made by former Life cartoonist Marcus.

On the surface, everything seemed fine. The trade papers announced company president Edwin Miles Fadman had left and Fleischer had taken over. Motion Picture World on January 30, 1926 put together a page worth of free publicity.

Max Fleischer, Creator of “Ko-Ko,” Elected Head of Red Seal Pictures
Ardent Supporter of “Laugh Month” Will Continue His Unique Work at the Inkwell Teaching His Clown New Tricks
By JOHN PYCROFT SMITH
MAX FLEISCHER, recently elected president of Red Seal Pictures Corporation, and known throughout the world wherever Ko-Ko, the Clown, star of the Out-of-the- Inkwell Cartoon series and the Ko-Ko Song Car- Tunes, is known, will stick to his inkwell.
The business of being president of a national distributing organization sets lightly on the shoulders of this creator of fun pictures.
Mr. Fleischer recently decided to take a personal interest in the distribution of his films in order to get direct reaction from the exhibitor so that he might properly gauge the product which he produces. With the recent organization of Red Seal, Mr. Fleischer stepped into the presidency. And — he will go right on putting Ko-Ko through his stunts!
"Do you know," Mr. Fleischer asked, "that a lot of people have got me sized up as some kind of a grouch? It sounds funny, doesn't it? I suppose the folks think along the line that a chap who throws out these cartoons must be an awful tough nut to crack. The fact is, I've successfully managed to laugh myself half way through life, trying all the time to keep the other fellow from bursting into tears, and when I deliberately set out to try to be serious, very few people take me seriously. Every laugh month is laugh month to me, and I hope some of the folks who have been looking at my humble contributions to the screen during these recent years have managed to get an occasional smile out of the antics of Ko-Ko. I'd hate like the deuce to feel that all of those hours, crouched against my inkwell, have been wasted on my public. The showmen tell 'em that everything is all right — and I like to think so.
"Laugh Month" Will Do World of Good
"I've been going around for years with a chip on my shoulder telling everybody that 'Laugh Month' will do a world of good along the lines of bringing to exhibitors a better understanding of what it's all about. I never found it difficult to convince an exhibitor that his show should be brightened up by various bits of humor. I'm the strongest booster (or I hope 1 am) of the other fellow's funny stuff. I was a laugh fan before I took a keen interest in production, and I see no reason why I should rent a safe deposit box to store away one iota of my optimism.
"I may not be funny, but my daughter thinks I'm a scream."
* * *

"Max" was little more than a boy when he joined the staff of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle as a cartoonist. Popular Science Monthly made him its art editor shortly thereafter and it was while with this publication that he applied himself to scientific subjects. Mr. Fleischer's knowledge of science stood him in good stead in recent years when editing such profound films as "Einstein's Theory of Evolution," in collaborating with Prof. Garrett P. Serviss, the noted astronomer, and "Evolution," edited in collaboration with Edward J. Foyes.
Began Production Eight Years Ago
Mr. Fleischer entered the motion picture field eight years ago, associating himself with his brother David, now production director of the Out-of-the-Inkwell Studios.
The product of these studios is protected by various patents, and President Fleischer is constantly experimenting to elaborate upon the several processes which he now controls.
During recent years, the demand upon Mr. Fleischer's time has extended to include his repeated appearance in a number of leading radio broadcasting station in Eastern cities.
Cartoonist Talks on The Radio
"Ko-Ko's boss" has talked to millions of listeners, and has regaled them with chats regarding his clown, these chats being almost as funny as the cartoons. Recently, at WIP Station, Philadelphia, Mr. Fleischer promised his listeners that if they would send their names to him in his office in number 729 Seventh avenue, New York City, he would send them a Ko-Ko card. Max graciously promised to print in the names of those who wrote to him. The following day he received 1,082 requests. He was dizzy when the day's work was done! Next morning, on reaching his office he was confronted with 8,391 additional names, and was obliged to hire a couple of experts to properly letter the cards to be mailed out. The third day 15,427 urgent requests for Ko-Ko cards arrived! And now, when Max talks over the radio, he soft-pedals all reference to "personally lettered Ko-Ko cards!"
The creator of Ko-Ko "sat in" on the first conference of the series that resulted in the designation of January, 1926, as "National Laugh Month" and his Ko-Ko cartoons are included among the most amusing features of "Laugh Month."

But soon it was revealed why Fleischer had taken over as president. There were accusations of unauthorised spending by just about everyone. The company had a cash flow problem on top of that.

Here are some clippings. First, from Variety of April 14, 1926.

Fadman Sued by Seal

Edwin Miles Fadman, former president and general manager of Red Seal Pictures, Corp., is being sued in two separate Supreme Court actions by the film company for $3,377.89 and $3,186.54 respectively. The Red Seal Co., now headed by Max Fleischer, the cartoonist-creator of Koko the Clown, alleges that Fadman drew the $3,377 in excess of his just allowance on a 50-50 percentage arrangement for the releasing of a certain “hair cartoon.”
The $3,186 claim arises from an alleged illegal diversion from the company’s proceeds.

A week later, Variety reported again.

Red Seal Stockholders’ Action in Court
A stockholders’ suit has been instituted in the Supreme Court of New York against the Red Seal Pictures Corporation, of which Max Fleischer is president. Edwin Miles Fadman, until recently president of the film, is one of the stockholders bringing suit. Fleischer, Maurice Finkelstein, lawyer, and Abe Meyer, secretary of Hugo Reisenfeld, are the three defendant directors charged with dissipating the assets of the corporation.
Among the specific items alleged in the complaints are payments of extra salaries of $75 weekly to Hugo Reisenfeld, $100 weekly to Fleischer and $100 weekly to Fred Greene, Jr., brother-in-law of Dr. Reisenfeld. Fadman alleges that when he resigned the presidency these payments were authorized by the new controlling board headed by Fleischer. Fadman contended that the disbursal of this money weakened the net asset position of the company.

Meanwhile, there was an unrelated lawsuit. Film Daily of July 1, 1926 had the following briefie, and a vague one at that:

Suit over "Carrie" Series
Irwin R. Franklyn has filed a suit against Inkwell Studios, Max Fleischer, Red Seal Pictures and others to restrain the production, exhibition and distrubution of the "Carrie of the Chorus" series. Max Fleischer, for Red Seal, denies all charges.

Evidently, the two sides settled their differences. The trade papers reported in September than the Carrie shorts were ready to for theatres.



Despite endless puff pieces talking about the desirability and growing distribution of Red Seal’s products, the company collapsed. Variety, October 13, 1926.

Red Seal Owes $109,000; Receiver Asked For
Max Fleischer’s Out-of-the-Inkwell Films, Inc., and the Red Seal Pictures Corp., subsidiary unit, are involved in Federal Court receivership proceedings. The appointment of a receiver in each case has been urged by Fleischer on behalf of his defendant corporations.
Spiro Films Corp. (formerly Urban-Kineto Corp.) brought the first suit, claiming $4,800 due on a $9,963.13 claim for licensing “Reel-views and Searchlights” to Out-of-the-Inkwell Co.
The defendant is alleged to have $109,737.77 in liabilities, the principal claims being $44,000 by the Consolidated Film Industries, Inc.; $28,643.75 due the banks, $3,000 to Maurice Finkelstein or Finkelstein & Willing, Fleischer’s lawyer; $2,249.99 due Hugo Reisenfeld; $3,400 to Fleischer and another item for $4,049.81 for salary; ditto to Dave Fleischer for $4,351.91.
The assets are said to total $310,613.23 of which $168,175 is in the form of Red Seal Corp. stock; another $68,616 advanced to the same corporation; $27,301 in completed films and $523.56 in cash.
The purpose of the receivership, with B. Bright Wilson appointed the receiver, is to seek the release of sundry films being held by the Consolidated Film Industries, Inc., a raw film enterprise, for unpaid claims.
In the Red Seal Corp. receivership Receiver Wilson sued the company in order to make possible a collection of claims.

While all this was going on, someone swooped in with cash and took control of things. This is from The Billboard, November 27, 1926.

Expansion Program Planned For Red Seal and Inkwell

NEW YORK, Nov. 20—An immediate expansion plan will be put under way by Alfred Weiss, new president of Red Seal Pictures and Out-of-the-Inkwell Films. Reorganization of the two companies was completed recently, with Weiss in control, following dismissal of the receivership claims against them. Weiss paid $218,000 of the liabilities and furnished working capital on which the companies will continue to operate. Red Seal now has 21 exchanges thruout the country. Max Fleischer is vice-president of both corporates, placing him in charge of production.
Weiss is a pioneer motion picture man, having been one of the originators of the old Triangle Film Corporation.

Legal troubles didn’t end. The Film Mercury, a Hollywood-based trade publication, reported in December 1926 that music publishers Waterson, Berlin and Snyder were suing Red Seal and Out if the Inkwell Film Corp. for using “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” in one of its cartoons.

Fleischer’s troubles still weren’t over. Weiss jettisoned both Max and Dave Fleischer in January 1929. The Fleischers set up their own company and somehow managed to take the Paramount contract with them, making Screen Songs and then Talkartoons for the the giant studio. Apparently, Weiss’ company wasn’t really functioning any more. It formally filed for bankruptcy on January 15, 1930 after Dave Fleischer won a $27,800 breach-of-contract judgment against Weiss, with a similar suit by Max pending and a third suit claiming Weiss siphoned off company money for his own benefit.

Weiss moved on to other things, including a movie sound system, before dying in 1940. The Fleischers moved ahead to create some excellent cartoons before everything caved in on them in 1942 and Paramount took over their studio. Despite all the turmoil, Max Fleischer’s name is still respected by animation fans today. The vaudeville he tried for a day is long gone.

Seeing the Hick Chick

The bad guy enters in a mile-long limo in The Hick Chick (released June 15, 1946). You can tell he’s the bad guy because the flashing sign on his car says so.



He sees Daisy Goon.



A typical Tex Avery reaction.



He becomes so excited, his moustache disappears in one of the drawings.



Walt Clinton, Ed Love, Preston Blair and Ray Abrams are the credited animators, with backgrounds by Johnny Johnsen.

Boxoffice magazine reported on July 5, 1946 that the Library of Congress had requested a print of the cartoon for preservation along with The Zoot Cat and The Milky Waif.

Juggler Of Our Lady

Gene Deitch and Al Kouzel put R.O. Blechman’s adaptation of The Juggler of Our Lady on the big screen in 1958.

The opening animation has two knights fighting each other with swords. They chop each other’s swords down to nothing. Suddenly, maces pop into their hands and they start using those until interrupted by the little juggler and the title of the cartoon.



I suppose the little characters might have been easier to see on the Cinemascope screen.

Motion Picture Daily reported on December 6, 1957 that the film would be pre-released for the Christmas holidays in 170 “key” cities by 20th Century Fox. It was formally released in April 1958 just before Deitch was unceremoniously shown the door at Terrytoons.

CBS may not have been crazy about Deitch in some quarters, but the company seems to have liked this film. It was not only reissued in March 1963, the company worked out a deal with Carousel Films in 1961 to distribute it in the non-theatrical, 16-mm market (schools, government agencies, libraries, etc.) for $50 a rental.