Bugs in Print

Back in the 1910s, animated cartoons were based much of the time on characters found in the comic section of the newspaper—Krazy Kat, Mutt and Jeff, The Police Dog and Jerry on the Job come to mind. But there was some turnabout. Felix the Cat appeared in newspapers long after his screen career came to an end.

Bugs Bunny’s huge popularity in 1940 made him in demand for syndication in the comic pages. In 1942, Leon Schlesinger signed a deal with the National Enterprise Association to put him and sidekick characters like Elmer Fudd, Sniffles and Porky and Petunia Pig in a daily comic strip (Oh, and “Chester Turtle” according to the ad to the right). The first Sunday page appeared on January 10, 1943.

As papers were added, they were encouraged to promote Bugs arriving in their comic section. It would appear a Bugs “biography” was part of the press kit.

This appeared in the Battle Creek Enquirer of November 7, 1952. Evidently, the copy was pretty old because Bugs had been in comics for ten years, not five.

Antics of a Funny Bunny To Appear in Paper Daily
Bugs Bunny was not born deep down inside some obscure Hollywood inkwell as you might think. The amazing animated rabbit is the creation of some of the film capital's cleverest writers, directors and cartoonists.
This is the story of his rise from movie extra to streamlined star of the screen cartoons and newspaper comics.
Started As Bit Player
Like many famous stars, Bugs Bunny got his start as a bit player. He was the intended victim of the intrepid hunter, Elmer Fudd, but somehow managed to elude the double-barreled shotgun in every sequence.
Pretty soon Bugs Bunny was popping up out of rabbit holes, chewing his carrot and shout "What's cookin', Doc?" as the star of Warner Bros, cartoon shorts, while Elmer was playing supporting roles. Now baby-talking Elmer turns up frequently in the Bugs Bunny comic strip, along with stuttering Porky Pig, plump Petunia and Bugs Bunny's other screen pals.
The bold, brash character of Bugs Bunny so unlike the everyday rabbits you meet is the result of many years of development.
First he got a shot of courage. Then his creators added a Brooklyn accent, which Bugs now uses most effectively in the balloons of his daily strip which starts in the Enquirer and News on Monday.
Kept in Wild State
The nation's best-known Bunny has been kept in the wild state—never given houses to live in and rarely wearing clothes. He has no steady girl friend, although he is permitted an occasional romance.
Much of Bugs popularity is due to the fact that all red-blooded Americans enjoy watching the underdog get the better of his oppressor. The Bunny always gets into trouble through no fault of his own then turns the tables on the trouble makers. This formula for fun is as successful in the NEA daily comic strip as on the screen.
Bugs Bunny has an impressive war record. He was adopted by every branch of the armed forces and became the most widely traveled Hollywood star going 'round the world on bombers, warships, tanks, jeeps and other military vehicles.
He served as the mascot insignia of countless units and kept 10 million GIs’ minds off their troubles with his 16 mm. appearance overseas.
Birthday Celebrated
While authentic Bugs Bunny autographs are exceedingly rare the rabbit is as popular as Santa Claus with his juvenile fans. They have formed Bugs Bunny fan clubs throughout the country and have made his comic book the second largest seller in the world.
Last Easter, Bugs Bunny's birthday was the occasion of big celebrations in movie houses throughout the country. Entire chains of theaters featured simultaneous releases of his biographical cartoon "A Hare Grows in Manhattan" and promotion stunts included everything from kiddie drawing contests to "personal" appearances.
Bugs Bunny has been an NEA comic star for nearly five years. While his busy schedule permits him to make only six to eight cartoons annually, his thousands of fans see Bugs daily in the comic pages of America's leading newspapers.

Smoke Gets In Your House

Wally Walrus figures he can stop smoke (created by Woody Woodpecker burning trash) from coming through the wall of his house by covering it up with a painting.



No, that doesn’t solve the problem. Things get surreal instead. The smoke starts coming from the stack of the train on the painting.



Here’s Wally’s take, as directed by Dick Lundy. All on ones.



The capper is the train in the painting starts moving and Woody’s on the train.



Paul J. Smith animated the take, but Grim Natwick and Stanley Onaitis get the rotating animation credits on this cartoon, 1946’s Smoked Hams from the Walter Lantz studio. Jack Mather plays Wally.

Long House, Isn't It?

Grandma has a long house. A very, very, very long house. Here’s Johnny Johnsen’s background painting (with wolf included) from The Bear’s Tale, a 1940 Tex Avery cartoon at Warners. You can click on it to see it better. I hope.



The only Johnsen background that may be longer is the park road in Red Hot Rangers at MGM.

Morgan Makes the Big Time

Some people knew the Golden Age of Radio was full of inanity. And a few made fun of it on the air—Fred Allen, Bob and Ray, and Henry Morgan being good examples.

Allen became embittered about a giveaway show which took away his listeners and helped push him off the air. Bob and Ray were shunted from network to network, time-slot to time-slot, trying to find the right fit in a dying industry. And Morgan couldn’t keep a show on the air, despite some great concepts, and finally contenting himself, like Allen, with marking time on a televised panel quiz show.

Morgan had made a bit of a name for himself for being a 15-minute grump, and for ridiculing his sponsor’s sales pitches. One of his complaints was he was capable of fronting a big-time comedy/variety show. So ABC gave him one.

The elements were good. There were put-downs of radio shows and advertising, quirky musical numbers and some social satire. Some of it worked, some of it didn’t. The stuff that didn’t was painful because Morgan got no audience reaction but was forced to finish his routine. ABC finally gave up on Morgan, who was picked up by NBC after a lot of pressure from Fred Allen. But variety shows cost money and with more potential sponsors giving up radio for television, Morgan didn’t have a chance (despite Arnold Stang and two of Jackie Gleason’s future cast-mates, Art Carney and Pert Kelton).

Radio Life profiled Morgan’s career to date in its edition of November 24, 1946. Some of the dialogue described comes from the first two ABC shows. The photos accompanied the article.

Madman Morgan
Madcap Henry Morgan Has Hit the Big Time
Now by Biting the Hand That Feeds Him!
By Joan Buchanan
Wednesday, 9:30 p.m. ABC—KECA, KFMB, KPRO
HE'S A big star now—perhaps destined to be the biggest comedy name in 1947—but the faithful Henry Morgan fans are keeping their fingers crossed. They've followed the incorrigible Morgan's career long enough to know that sometimes the sponsor and the station can't take it. And Morgan just doesn't care!
Here's a glimpse of Morgan's past hilarious history in radio—read it and then join us in crossing fingers. Henry became the youngest announcer in radio at the age of seventeen, became a newscaster and was hired and fired all in the space of five weeks. He just couldn't get to broadcasts on time. He went to a station in Philadelphia and worked for one year, signing off the station at night by announcing the names of everyone who happened to be in the studio including the janitor, elevator operators, window cleaners. He was finally fired for listing station executives whom he seldom met in the missing persons bureau broadcast. Happily Morgan comments, "It was days before they discovered it."

Worked at a station in Boston for two years and was doing fine until he got interested in a law course. He started attending law school at night and was fired for cutting a broadcast to take his examinations. Oh, well, as Morgan says, "Time Marches Sideways!" Our hero finally wound up on station WOR in New York, where he did the remotes from the out-of-town dine and dance spots. Cracks like "Hop in your car and drive to 'Blank's Silver Slipper'. It's only fifteen minutes from New York as the crow flies—that is if the crow happens to be driving a supercharged motorcycle . . ." made officials decide that this wasn't exactly the sort of thing to induce confidence in the remote broadcasts. Instead of firing Morgan, they gave him a weekly spot where he could do his kidding on his own time.
Is "Discovered"
Listeners discovered him and soon he was doing his famous "Here's Morgan" broadcasts three times a week. This was soon expanded to six a week. If the listeners could take it Morgan could! But alas, the poor sponsor! The Adler Elevator Shoe people were perhaps Morgan's most famous and most heckled sponsor. Three times they withdrew sponsorship, but Morgan was in their blood—they always came back. Morgan persisted in referring to his sponsor as "Old Man Adler" and one time after delivering a rhapsody on Adler's Shoes, in an aside, he confided to his listeners, "Frankly, I wouldn't wear them to a dog fight." The sponsor was upset and asked Morgan to retract his statement. Next day on the air, Morgan repeated his set-to with "Old Man Adler". "I said I'd take it back and I will," stated Morgan. "I would wear Adler's Shoes to a dog fight." It was tactics like this that had men of above-average height buying this brand of shoe. Morgan lost the sponsorship of Life Savers when he confided that they were milking the public by putting holes in their candy. He also referred to their six delicious flavors as "cement, asphalt, asbestos . . . "

Radio took a step backward when Morgan went into the army in 1943. Happily, "Here's Morgan" came back to the airways in 1945. And now look! Coast-to-coast on a sponsored show! In deference to the actors and musicians on his present show, Henry is using a script. Formerly he used to work from notes he had made shortly before air time. An expert ad-libber, he could take off from anywhere following his famous opening, "Hello, anybody, here's Morgan." Newspaper items, remarks overheard in an elevator, people talking to themselves on the street, billboard and bus advertisements, signs in store windows, magazine articles and movies are all stored up in Morgan's wonderful memory ready to be used as material for his show. But it's always been the commercial that's the spice of the program. "People don't care about where and how a product is made," says Morgan, "they just want to know if it is good . . . The trouble with the average sponsor is that he's just average. I know more about radio advertising than the guys in the business."
Phone Marathon
Morgan always kept his address and phone number a secret to avoid angry sponsors. If the sponsor was enraged he'd have to call the agency, who called the network, who called the only person who knew Morgan's phone number. She called Morgan, and if the complaint hadn't died down by that time she would recite it to Morgan, who didn't care anyway.
He has never liked studio audiences, and if he tells a joke he thinks isn't funny, he will glare fiercely at anyone in the audience who dares to laugh. He is a versatile dialectician because he worked alone for so long that he had to learn to do his own characters. His Russian, British, French and German dialects are hilarious.
Here are some Morganisms: He invented Broonsday, the eighth day of the week. It's the day that people take old gold and convert it back into sea water—the day we take nylons and make coal out of them. Started a medical school for doctors who don't practice medicine—just pose for ads. "One of my doctors," says Henry, "has invented Gonfalon's Enormous Liver Pills because he discovered that there are various sizes of livers—they're not all little." Morgan is also the discoverer of the town of More. "There are only two housewives in that town," he explains, "so when you see an advertisement that says 'More housewives recommend ... ,' you know it's these two women who live in More, Nebraska." "Do you suffer from acid stomach ?" asks Morgan. "Well, stop drinking acid."

One of Morgan's recent shows started out with the announcer screaming, "And, now, the star of our show, America's number one funny man, Bob Hope!" Morgan came on quietly with, This is Henry Morgan. The reason the announcer said Bob Hope was we figured we'd get twelve million more listeners. If you tune out now, you're a sore loser." And who else would urge you to "try CBS to see if there's anything better on?".
Morgan used to refer to his girl friend as the "ninth most beautiful girl in New York." But said he didn't like women because, "if they're smart, they argue—if they're dumb, you can't stand them!" Unpredictable as always, he recently got married!
A Conformist
On his first half-hour night–time broadcast Morgan told his audience: "The other joke shows aren't on the air yet so I have no one to steal from. Now that I have my own half-hour I'm going to conform. I've shaved my head for a toupee, and I'm going to get a brother-in-law and a mother-in-law and an announcer who giggles and a closet with a lot of stuff in it and start a feud with Toscanini." He also claimed that he'd tried to think of another name for his show—"I was going to call it the 'Jack Benny Show,' but I found out someone else was using it."
"Here's where the commercials would go," he said later, "if I were foolish enough to sell this valuable program." Foolish or not, the program has been sold to the Eversharp Company. Asked how he liked his new sponsor, Morgan replied, "Eversharp has nice, blue eyes." Fans who were fearful that Morgan would be too impressed with his new position to take the same pot shots at the hand that feeds him knew they had nothing to worry about after they heard the first program. Henry was talking about the Schick Injector razor. "I told them the name was too long," he complained. "I told them they ought to call it the 'Morgan' or the 'Snazzy,' but ..."
He ended up his first show in the new series by pleading to the air audience, "Don't hate me. I did the best I could."
Of himself Morgan says, "I'm intelligent but misguided. If I had any real talent I'd go straight."

Van Beuren, um, Sextet?

The Van Beuren cartoon studio took the song “The Woman in the Shoe” from the 1930 MGM film Lord Byron of Broadway and built the cartoon The Family Shoe around it in 1931.

Van Beuren loved quartets, so that’s what we see at the start of this short. What’s great is the singers are deadpan but the studio’s writers fit in some bits of business for them. First, the sun interrupts their song, then a tree grows eyes and a mouth and sings the second verse.



The quartet carries on their expressionless singing as the cat gives the tree a dirty look while dog kicks the pig and the pig kicks the duck, who does a mid-air somersault.



The dog loses his pants. But the quartet doesn’t stop singing. After a brief look, the pig silently signals with its bulk to the dog that his pants are down, and the dog pulls them back up.



And for a short period, we get the Van Beuren conjoined mouth gag.



John Foster and Manny Davis get the “by” credit, with Gene Rodemich providing a nice little score with a couple of solos; I especially like the jazz tune as Jack climbs the beanstalk. (It turns out the Old Woman Who Lives in a Shoe is Jack’s mother. Who knew?).

Jerry Gets Panned

A frying pan turns into lines as Nibbles accidentally bashes Jerry in The Milky Waif (1946).



Mike Lah is part of the Hanna-Barbera unit in this one, along with Ken Muse and Ed Barge. I believe this is a Lah scene.

As a bonus, here’s an endless loop of Jerry swinging Tom by the tail in eight drawings. Barge is the animator (credit to Mark Kausler). It’s about four times faster in the cartoon. Disney would have probably done it at this speed and added a pile of in-betweens.

Jokers Jack and George

Jack Benny and George Burns may have been the biggest best friends in the comedy world in Hollywood. Burns was famous for breaking up Benny, usually at the most inopportune moments. They played practical jokes on each other, too.

Here are some examples. These are two different unbylined stories, but they obviously came from the same source material as sentences are used verbatim. The first is from Rochester TV Life of March 8-14, 1952, the second from Radio TV Life of October 31, 1952.

Vaudeville Friends . . . Burns, Allen and Benny
Jack Benny and George Burns have been friends since their early days in vaudeville.
Back in those days they shared bachelor quarters and started pulling jokes on each other. They became benedicts at about the same time (George in 1926 and Jack in 1927), which only served to strengthen their friendship and make for a continued series of personalized, wacky practical jokes.
The night that George married Gracie Allen in Cleveland, Jack called up from Vancouver at 4 A.M, "Hello, this is Jack Benny," he announced. George said, "Bring up two orders of ham and eggs!" and hung up.
While George was playing the Palace in New York, Jack sent him this wire from San Diego: "I think your act is sensational. You've got the cleverest routine, the funniest gags Broadway has ever heard. I think you're a genius—better than Chaplin!" He signed it "George Burns."
After George and Gracie had made their radio debut, Jack addressed a fan letter to his pal: "I listened to your program last night and I think it was swell. I would appreciate it very much if you would send me a picture of Tom Mix's horse."
Forthwith, George found a photo of a jackass and inscribed it "To my very dear friend, Jack Benny." Jack acknowledged it with "Thank you for your picture."

On one occasion Jack wrote George a six-page letter. George, it seems, was too busy to answer, so he switched the names in the salutation and signature, and sent the letter back. Jack redoubled, and for a year and a half, that was the only letter that passed between them.
The most expensive and widely-heralded exchange of jokes between the two funsters came this wise:
On the opening night of Benny's engagement at the London Palladium in 1948, George put in a long distance call for him from his Beverly Hills, Calif., home. When the connection was made, George said, "Hello, Jack. This is George Burns," then abruptly hung up.
Jack got reprisal in full measure on the opening night for George and Gracie, the following year, at the Palladium. He flew all the way from Hollywood, and made his way to the apartment of Val Parnell, manager of the Palladium, where a party was in progress in honor of Burns and Allen.
Before he arrived, he picked up Jane Wyman (then making a movie in London) and asked her to be his stooge in the finale to this running gag. Unbeknownst to George or Gracie, they hid in a room adjoining the party in progress.
Jane played like a veddy British telephone operator, and pretended to be putting through a call to George from Hollywood. "Mr. Burns, Mr. Burns," she said, "Hollywood calling, Mr. Burns. Righto, it's Mr. Benny. I'll put him on the wire now."
George, in the other room, exclaimed to the guests, "That Jack!" Jack then said, "Hello, George," and hung up.
"He hung up on me!" George said rather plaintively. And he had hardly finished the sentence when Jack walked into the room.
George was so overwrought he cried.
Following a gruelling tour of the battlefronts of Korea to entertain the troops in 1951. Benny returned to Hollywood to resume his radio and television activities. George had not seen Jack since his return, but he was not at a loss for a gag when Benny casually sauntered backstage at rehearsal for the Burns and Allen TV show.
"Why, hello, Jack," he said casually, "when are you leaving for Korea?"
Jack did what he usually does when George pulls a "fasty."
He doubled up with laughter, and hung onto George's knees before he straightened up.
He thinks George is the funniest man on earth. The feeling is mutual.
Back in the '40s, Burns and Allen contemplated a change in format before starting a new series of their radio show. Benny voluntarily attended many of the preliminary meetings in the office of the advertising agency. He offered some good advice. It was taken, and the new Burns and Allen show got off to a flying start.
George and Jack are pals who know how to talk—and listen.

Show Business’s Oldest Feud
The Battle of Wits That Entertains the Participants, Their Friends and Foes Has Raged for a Quarter of a Century
THE CURTAIN had hardly hit the floor at the close of a George Burns and Gracie Allen Show when the phone started ringing backstage in Studio A of the CBS headquarters in Hollywood.
An attendant answered, and a familiar voice asked for George. It was Jack Benny, calling from Detroit.
George scurried to the phone while the applause of the studio audience still rang in his ears. "Hi, Jay," he said. "What's Up?"
Benny came back with, "Oh, I was just sitting around with a bunch of newspaper guys here in Detroit, telling a lot of lies. But this is no lie. Your show, which we just saw, was a real smash. Really great."
"Well, Jay, Gracie and I felt it came off pretty well, but we could always do better."
The Gag
After some more persiflage, George asked Jack why he was stopping in Detroit, and the latter, reputedly a pinchpenny and Maxwell driver, replied laconically that he had just bought a new Cadillac. Also that he was driving back to Hollywood with Frankie Remley, the guitarist, as a traveling companion.
"Well, Jay," George said, "I beat you to the punch. I bought one last week here in Hollywood, and I've already got fifty-two miles on it!"
Moaned Benny, "Now I'm glad I got these charges reversed to you at CBS!"
Started Long Ago

Jack Benny and George Burns, two of today's greatest comics, have been friends since their early days in vaudeville. Back in those days they shared bachelors quarters and started pulling jokes on each other. They never stopped.
The night that George married Gracie Allen in Cleveland, Benny called up from Vancouver. He waited until 4:00 in the morning to call. "Hello, this is Jack Benny," he announced. George barked, "Bring up two orders of ham and eggs!" and hung up.
Later, when George and Gracie made their radio debut, Jack addressed a fan letter to his pal: "I listened to your program last night and I think it was swell. I would appreciate it very much if you would send me a picture of Tom Mix's horse."
George immediately found a photo of a jackass and wrote across it, "To my very dear friend, Jack Benny." Jack acknowledged it with, "Thank you for your picture."
The most expensive and widely heralded exchange of jokes started on the opening night of Benny's engagement at the London Palladium in 1948. George put in a long-distance call for him from his Beverly Hills, California, home. When the connection was made, George said, "Hello, Jack. This is George Burns." Then abruptly hung up.
Paid Back
Jack got even in full a year later when George and Gracie opened at the Palladium. He flew all the way from Hollywood, and made his way to an apartment where a party was in progress in honor of Burns and Allen. Before he arrived, however, he picked up Jane Wyman (then making a movie in London) and asked her to stooge for his stunt. She would—and did. Unbeknown to George and Gracie, they hid in a room next to the party apartment.
Then Jane played a veddy, veddy British phone operator and pretended to put through a call to George, from Hollywood. "Mr. Burns, Mr. Burns," she said, "Hollywood calling, Mr. Burns. Righto, it's Mr. Benny. I'll put him on."
George, in the other room, exclaimed happily to the guests, "That's Jack!" Just then Jack said, "Hello, George." And hung up.
"He hung up on me!" George said plaintively. And he had hardly finished the sentence when Jack walked into the room.
George was so overwrought he cried.

An Interview With Jack Mercer

This lengthy transcription from the National Board of Review Magazine of October, 1938 is self-explanatory. The date of the actual broadcast needs to be researched. The only observation I’ll make is to note the reference to animator being the director of a cartoon at Fleischers.

Making a Cartoon
THE editors have decided that it might be of interest to Motion Picture Councils and other groups to publish from time to time the complete scripts of selected broadcasts given under the auspices of the National Board over the New York City Station WNYC. The purpose of publishing these scripts in the Magazine is to assist any groups who may be considering making similar broadcasts over their local stations. The following script is an example of a light, but instructive talk on an aspect of movie-making that demands cheerful treatment — namely, the animated cartoon. The authors are Jack Mercer, director of dialog, and Thomas Moore, animator, both of the Fleischer Studios. The letters in the margin indicate the speakers' first names. Speaking time : 15 minutes.

Announcer : Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures continuing its series of forums on various aspects of motion pictures. In response to a number of requests for a discussion of short and full length cartoons, we have pleasure in presenting this evening two speakers from the studio of Max Fleischer. From this studio come Popeye the Sailor, the man who has made young America spinach-conscious, and many other cartoon celebrities. The two speakers are Mr. Thomas Moore, one of the Fleischer studio's animators, and Mr. Jack Mercer, the director of dialog. If any of you imagine that an animator is an instrument for registering electrical discharges, Mr. Moore will put you right and give a real account of the importance of an animator's work in the drawing and painting of a cartoon. Mr. Mercer hasn't got much to say about this side of cartoon making, but he's going to show you who's behind the strange sounds and chatter that accompany the characters in a cartoon. So now I'll turn the forum over to them and let them handle it in their own way. Will you lead off, Mr. Mercer, or would you like me to start things going with a few questions ?
J. Mr. Announcer, this might be a little irregular, but I wonder if you would do me a favor by allowing me to be the interviewer this evening. I've always wanted to put Mr. Moore on the spot.
A. Surely, go ahead, the mike is yours.
J. Good evening, Mr. Moore.
T. Hello, Jack, what are you doing here?
J. I'm going to be the interviewer, so just assume that I know nothing at all about the making of cartoons.
T. What do you mean — assume?
J. I walked into that. Well, on with the interview. I'm sure everyone is interested in animated cartoons. Will you tell us something of their history?
T. Thomas Edison experimented with the idea of animated drawings as early as 1900, but the first man to make an animated cartoon film was the great cartoonist, Windsor McCay. The idea struck him as he observed his young son flipping the pages of a book of "Magic Pictures." After many months of extensive study, he made an animated version of his cartoon strip, "Little Nemo in Slumber Land." But he considered this film only an experiment and in 1909, two years after his first attempt, he made the first film for exhibition, "Gertie, the Dinosaur." Prior to 1922, most animated cartoons were made with paper cut-outs and were pretty crude.

J. You mean sorta like cutting out paper dolls, eh?
T. Yes, exactly. You should know. The drawings of the characters in different positions were cut-out and pasted over a simple background and then photographed in sequence. But since that time many improvements have been made, so that today we have the full length feature cartoon.
J. A great many people seem to think that the full length cartoon involves a different and more complicated process of production.
T. The only real difference is a matter of length, the feature being much longer permits the story to be told with more finesse and detail. The average short requires about 10,000 drawings and takes approximately seven minutes to be shown on the screen, while the full-length feature requires more than a quarter-million drawings and runs over an hour.

J. There certainly has been a great advance made in the industry. Why don't you tell our listeners how the work on a modern cartoon begins ?
T. Gladly. The modern studio is a beehive of activity, highly systematized.
J. In simple language you mean they do a lot of work.
T. It takes over 230 artists and technicians at least ten weeks to prepare the drawings which make up an animated movie cartoon. Work on the cartoon begins when the musical director and scenario writers call into conference a few of the head artist animators. (J. ad. lib. "Tell 'em I'm in the Story Dept.") They discuss the general lines of the plot and principal gags. (J. ad. lib.) The music which is to be adapted to the plot is selected. By the way, Jack, you are in the story department. I'm sure you could explain just how your department functions.
J. Huh ? Oh. To be sure. To be sure. Well, the first thing we do is try to get an idea or facsimile —
T. (taking up) And after getting the idea of synopsis, the story men write a script in complete form for the animators. In order to do this they must know all the cartoon characters intimately — how they think and how they react. They must know the limitations imposed upon them by the censors, by the audiences, and by the technicalities of production. In other words, a certain subject might be condoned by one country and barred by another. One community might be nattered by an incident that would insult the next. You may like a picture that I thought dull and boring. So, if the script can please some of the people part of the time, then the job is well-done.
J. Then the story goes to the Animation Department — and that's how we write stories.
T. Very good, Jack. The head animator, upon receiving a new story, visualizes the picture and roughly lays it out illustrating each scene. He then calls his group together for a conference, when, through analysis and discussion, they try to get into the mood of the story. The scenes are then divided amongst the group and they start to work. And that is where the fun begins. If you unexpectedly walked in on a group of animators at work, you would probably be amazed at what you saw. For the chances are, you would find one chap standing in front of a full-size mirror gesticulating wildly and making horrible faces at himself. Another on roller skates in the center of the room would be trying to act like Olive Oyl, while a couple of his colleagues offer helpful suggestions such as : — "Tom, try that fall again, only this time throw your feet higher so that when you land your weight is more concentrated in one spot. We want to see how high you bounce."
The survivors then sit at their desks and attempt to draw on paper what they saw. An animator never knows what he may be called on to draw next. It might range from a pigmy wedding ceremony to a Giant ball game.
J. Personally, I'm a Brooklyn fan.
T. You would be. . . .
J. I resemble that !
T. At this point, I would like to make an observation. In order to be an animator, one must be slightly wacky.
J. You should make a very successful animator, Mr. Moore.
T. Thank you so much. But drawing is not the only phase of the animator's work, for he must give complete instructions to each department as to the handling of his scene. He is director, actor, technician.
J. And wacky.

T. The animator does not make every drawing, for that would take up too much of his time. He only makes the extremes, or key drawings, and then an assistant, or "in-betweener," completes the scene. For instance, if he wants to animate an apple falling from a tree, he makes one drawing of the apple as it starts to fall and another at the end of the fall. The in-betweeners then make the drawings that will carry the apple from one position to the other. The animator regulates the speed of the fall by indicating the number of drawings that must be made between the two positions. When the animator starts his scene of the apple falling, he first makes a rough drawing or layout to serve as a guide to the Background Department, for every action has to take place in a proper setting or location. With this guide the background artists make a detailed and carefully rendered water-color drawing of the scene.
J. And that completes the work on the picture.

T. No, the picture is far from being completed after the animators have done their job, and an enormous volume of technical work is necessary before the "shooting", or photography, can take place. In the Inking Department, each drawing is traced on transparent celluloids. This work plays a very important part in the general scheme of preparing for the camera.
J. Oh, then the drawings are ready for photographing ?
T. No. The Coloring Department now receives the celluloids together with the corresponding animators' drawings. The Colorers, or Opaquers, fill in all the blank spaces between the ink lines with paint of various shades. All colors and shades are used for the purpose. This process is highly technical and the task is very arduous, but very important ; as only a perfectly colored set of drawings will result in clear and perfect photography.
J. Well, how do you photograph these individual drawings so that they will appear to move ?
T. The photographing process for cartoons is essentially the same as in regular moving pictures. The same type of camera catches the progressive movements of the cartoon character, recording each successive movement. The difference between the regular and the cartoon camera is only in the speed of operation. When filming a regular moving picture, the camera runs 90 feet of film per minute.
Not so the cartoon camera, where individual drawings are being photographed. The work here proceeds very slowly because of the time spent by the operator for removing the photographed drawing and then assembling and adjusting the celluloids for the next photograph. One foot of film may take a whole hour to photograph, and the camera, instead of photographing 90 feet a minute, as in the case of the regular moving picture, may take a whole day to photograph 30 feet of cartoon film.

J. Now, we come to the process which plays so great a part in making moving pictures today, and especially cartoons. The application, of sound is called "Sound Synchronization."
T. That's right. In the spacious projection room the sound director, vocal artists, and the effects men face the screen. They watch the running film, harmonizing the voices and sound effects while the picture is being projected. Microphones in effective positions in the recording room pick up and carry the sound over wires to a sound-proof room, where wax and film records are made. The recording thus made is called a "take" and the film record is called a "sound track." The picture is projected on the screen a second time while the wax record is "played back." The directors now get the result of their first synchronized effort, pick the flaws and make the necessary corrections for the second "take" to follow. This procedure may be repeated again and again until a perfect or satisfactory "take" is accomplished, after which the "played back" wax record is discarded. The film "sound track" is then developed and transferred to the picture film. This is called the finished negative from which the prints are made. Any number of prints can be made from a single negative. The animated cartoon is now ready for general distribution. (Pause) Jack, Jack, oh Jack, wake up !
J. (ad lib.) Where am I?
T. Now suppose I ask you a few questions for a change.
J. Why, for sure, for sure.
T. Inasmuch as you are in the Sound Department as well as the Story Department, perhaps you will demonstrate for us how you make some of the sounds.
J. I would be glad to.
T. Then suppose you give us your interpretation of a chicken.
J. Chicken? Mm-mm. . . (gives imitation)
T. I think that one layed an egg.
J. How is this for a cow? (gives imitation)
T. Mm — Strictly off the cob.
J. Well, you should enjoy this one. It's a pig that gets caught in the fence. The farmer saws into the fence and the pig is freed, (gives imitation)
T. The pig was very natural.
J. If you don't like those imitations, let us see what you can do.

T. Oh, it's easy. Why I can imitate three different dogs.
J. All right, go ahead.
T. This one is the Mexican Chu-wa-wa. (gives imitation)
J. Uh-huh.
T. Next, the whippet. (Repeats same imitation)
J. Oh, that's the whippet, eh?
T. And this one will be the Dalmatian Bloodhound. (Repeats same imitation)
J. Oh, those were three different dogs, eh? I must admit that was pretty good. Suppose we team up and do a cat and dog fight. You do the three dogs and I'll do the cat.
J. & T. Ad. lib.
T. And now we will close with our theme song.
J. & T. Ad. lib.
Announcer: Thank you for that moving little song, Mr. Moore and Mr. Mercer. We'll have to break it up now, I'm afraid, and I should like to apologize to our listeners for having allowed this instructive discussion to degenerate into a common cat and dog fight. At the same time I'm sure everybody who was with us tonight got a good idea of what goes into the making of cartoons and their sound accompaniment — to say nothing of the kind of people who make them. I think "wacky" was the word, Mr. Mercer . . . ? (Mercer: An animal raspberry) If you listeners agree with me and have ideas of your own regarding entertaining and instructive subjects for a film forum, please drop a postcard to Film Forum, care of this station, WNYC, at the Municipal Building, or write direct to the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York City, and make any suggestions or criticisms you may wish. We'll be with you again next week, same time, and in the meanwhile this is the National Board of Review saying so long — and see you at the movies.

Bugs and Bras

You can see how silent film stars influenced Chuck Jones. His work is brimming with great expressions.

Here’s an example in Gas, a 1944 Snafu cartoon for the Army/Navy Screen Magazine. Snafu is self-satisfied as he gets set to pull his gas mask out of his satchel. Only it isn’t a gas mask.



He tries again. Aha!



Another self-satisfied look.



Cut to a side angle. He pulls out a cameo appearance by Warner Bros. biggest cartoon star. You can guess what he says to Snafu.



Sarge isn’t happy. Snafu’s expression changes as he drops Bugs out of the cartoon.



I don’t know who did this scene, but Bobe Cannon’s work appears throughout the cartoon.