From Umquaw to Siegfried

Get Smart may have been the best satire on TV in its early episodes. It took the spy movie genre and made it silly.

One of the recurring characters was Siegfried, the Nazi mastermind of the enemy agency KAOS, played wonderfully by Bernie Kopell. Siegfried tried to maintain an aura of stiff militarism while trying to appear threatening. Kopell wasn’t way over the top, but he didn’t treat the character all that seriously.

Kopell went on to arguably greater fame on The Love Boat, but Siegfried is still my favourite role of his. At the same time, he was also appearing occasionally on That Girl in a ho-hum role as Marlo Thomas’ neighbour. But his career went back a little further. He aspired to be a Shakespearean but it didn’t quite work out that way.

First up is a column from the Pittsburgh Press of October 20, 1964. Kopell was appearing in guest roles on TV and in several movies at the time. Next is what looks to be an NBC publicity handout that appeared in a number of papers in mid-March 1969.

COMEDY MEANS MONEY
Actor's Ideals By The Boards
By VINCE LEONARD
You may never have heard of Bernie Kopell but you may soon, the man's that ambitious.
Kopell is a television actor who's maybe halfway there—past the starving stage, but not yet a star.
I'm saying I knew Bernie Kopell when—early.
Seven years ago, Kopell and I were able bodied seamen aboard the U.S.S. Iowa, a showboat battleship in a peacetime Navy.
He had the library watch; I mimeographed the ship's news.
When not forced to perform his hated nautical duties, Kopell talked about things like Shaw's "Doctor's Dilemma" and the idealistic ego of Howard Roark in Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead."
He also said he wanted to be a straight, dramatic actor. Shakespeare, mostly. He called himself a "classical purist."
A week ago, Kopell played a comical Indian on "Petticoat Junction."
And was glad to do it. He says he's "grateful to be where I am."
Yes, he has swallowed a false pride, deflated his stuffed shirt ideals.
Because of that, he Is making it in Hollywood. He may make it big.
"My secret hope," he said on the telephone yesterday, "is that Steve Allen comes up with that second show for CBS. If he does, I'm his boy, his number-one comic."

Kopell has appeared on the Allen show 27 times. He has done seven shows for Danny Kaye, four for Jack Benny and co-starred in a "My Favorite Martian." And he has done a pilot for a prospective new TV series called "Sally And Sam," the latest in the intern cycle with Gary Lockwood and Cynthia Pepper.
His movie credits include "Good Neighbor Sam" with Jack Lemmon, "The Thrill Of It All" with Doris Day and the not-yet-released "The Loved Ones."
Someone Else's Opinions
Whatever happened to Bernie Kopell, purist?
"I felt I was hung up on all that training," he said. "Sometimes you use someone else's opinions as your own. Out of respect to them, you say what they say, not what you say."
Kopell, 31, is Brooklyn-born and New York University-educated.
Perhaps in his haste to leave the dese and dose files of Flatbush, he became too impressed with absent-minded professors and serious-minded acting instructors. "The image was too fixed in my mind," he said. "Didn't you," he asked, "ever want to be a diamond merchant instead of a newspaper man?"
Going from the actor's Utopia to Umquaw, the "Petticoat Junction" Indian, "is not a comedown," he said.
"My own personal nature has always been to be a funny guy. Now I really dig the stuff as work," he said. "I develop character comedy. I've been called a comedic actor."
And—most importantly—he says he can't remember when he last missed a week's work.
What about in the beginning?
"It was impossible. I drove a cab, washed dishes, the whole smear. Actually, I wasn't able to build up enough to get a decent wage from the unemployment people."
That was about four years ago.
One day a fellow cabbie told him they were looking for somebody for "The 49th Cousin," a play which bombed on Broadway.
Hit Play Opens Things
In Hollywood, it ran eight months and Bernie received "fantastic" reviews. "It kind of opened things up."
Now he drives a big, new car. "It's the first new one I ever owned and it's kind of thrilling."
He wears $125 suits and his apartment has "two bedrooms and a nice back yard."
To do the "Sally And Sam" pilot, he turned down work in "The Beverly Hillbillies" and "Wendy And Me."
He spoke of the Hillbillies and Wendy in the same reverential tones he once used for Shaw and Shakespeare.
"Hollywood is like a whole new world," he said.
"People swing here. Marriages last eight months—like mine."
Meanwhile, he keeps working. He did a TV pilot, too, with Dennis Day and Hal March. And he has talked with David Susskind.
Bernie Kopell is not just getting a plug today from an old Navy buddy.
Instead, this Is a column on just one of a thousand actors who once was choked by Shakespearean sawdust . . .
One of a thousand clowns now making a little money . . .
One of a thousand who wanted to play Macbeth but will now settle for Macbeth's ambition.

Bernie Kopell Alias Siegfried Gets Laughs
HOLLYWOOD—Bernie Kopell wanted to be taken seriously, but everyone laughed at him.
"I started out as a terribly formal, serious student of drama at New York University," he said. "I was doing straight things and they were coming out funny. I was getting unintentional laughs."
Gradually, as he realized that he wasn't getting anywhere as a dramatic actor, Bernie made the transition to what seemed more in character.
That's how he happens now to be playing Siegfried, the head of KAOS, on "Get Smart," colorcast over the NBC Television Network Saturdays. He will be featured in particular in a two-parter, "The Not-So-Great Escape," March 22 and 29.
Kopell described Siegfried as the "non-smiling, angry, vicious leader of a corrupt organization. He is supercilious. He tries to control himself but it's a veneer. He is constantly frustrated and loses control. Kids love it. People enjoy it. It makes them laugh."
Kopell personally is more like the "sympathetic, nice guy next door" which he portrays in "That Girl," starring Mario Thomas.

In fact, Siegfried is Kopell's first German character.
"My agent called me one day and asked if I could do a German, Bernie recalled. "I did a Viennese accent, which is too soft. Then I did a movie-German." At one time Bernie was typecast as a Latin.
"This was back in '61," he said. "Things couldn't have been worse. I was working on an estate, mowing the lawn, and living in the toolshed.
"My agent asked if I could do a Latin American. I did an imitation and got the role of a Latin American heavy on a daytime serial, 'The Brighter Day,' for three months. For the two years I did Mexicans."
Kopell does not consider himself an impressionist, though.
"I don't do stars," he said. "I'm just not interested in that. I do characters, like a 70 year-old Chinese trying desperately to do all the parts in 'Hamlet.' I also do 'Japan's foremost comedian'."
Kopell does not think of himself as a comic. Right now he sees himself as a "comedy character actor." He hopes to emerge eventually as a "comedian."
"I would like to promote just one image," he said. "It's becoming easier and easier to appear as myself now because I am becoming less and less afraid to succeed as myself. As you develop inner security, nothing bothers you any more and you don't try for masks."
Meantime, he has three "masks" going for him—his work in TV commercials, Mr. Nice Guy of "That Girl," and Siegfried. His disguises are sometimes a little too effective for ego satisfaction.
"People who know me don't know it's me," he said of his "Get Smart" role.
Even executive co-producer Sam Denoff of "That Girt" had a delayed reaction. According to Bernie, Denoff saw an episode of "Get Smart" and suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, that's Bernie! He's on our show!"
Bernie admits that at times he's mistaken for Arte Johnson, who portrays the "verrry in-ter-esting" German on "Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In" over NBC-TV.
"We both wear glasses," said Bernie. "People mistake me for him. Then they say, 'You look like Arte Johnson, only taller'." Bernie recently turned the tables on Arte. He walked up to Arte and said, "You know who you look like? A short Bernie Kopell."

Sundae Delight Supreme With Crushed Duck

Daffy Duck happily obligates two starving Yosemite Sam lookalikes who ask him to look up a recipe for roast duck.



“First, you take a duck. After lopping off its head and feet...” Then he realises what he’s reading.



He tries another page. “A very delicious soup can be made from diced duck.”



He looks up ice cream. “I’d like to see ‘em sneak a duck into this one,” he tells us confidentially.



Nope. The recipe for sundae delight supreme includes “sprinkle profusely with crushed duck.”



This comes from the 1947 cartoon Along Came Daffy. If it sounds like the dueling duck/rabbit recipes of Rabbit Fire four years later, that’s because both cartoons were written by Mike Maltese.

I Saw the Light ... and Swallowed It

A lightbulb gives a cute little Disney-esque rabbit an idea in Doggone Tired (1949).



The rabbit is doing all he can to keep a dog awake so the dog will be too tired to hunt him in the morning. The rabbit connects the light switch to a clock so the light keeps turning on and off.



The dog unscrews the light bulb.



That doesn’t solve the problem.



Neither does eating the bulb. We get some body-orafice jokes before the dog looks at the camera in disgust and the scene ends (there’s a pretty quick to the next scene; I wonder if the start of it was edited).



Bobe Cannon, Mike Lah, Grant Simmons and Walt Clinton are the animators for Tex Avery in this short. Character designs are by ex-Disneyite Louis Schmitt.

Baker on Broadway

Kenny Baker wasn’t satisfied.

He was a virtual unknown outside his home town when he was vaulted into fame on the Jack Benny radio show. But he got tired of playing a silly character so he quit. He went into motion pictures. But he got tired of playing silly characters so he quit.

In between he lost his gig on Fred Allen’s show when it was cut from an hour to a half-hour (and the trades reported some friction as well).

He moved onward and, mostly, downward. He was given the starring role on a show called Glamour Manor. But it was a daytime show on the number three network and tried to remind people “Hey, I was with Jack Benny once!” by incorporating Don Wilson and Schlepperman into the cast. He signed with Ziv to cut a series of transcribed 15-minute musical shows for syndication. Both shows petered out and Baker was pretty much a spent force in radio by the end of the ‘40s.

Baker had two other claims to fame during this period. He cut some religious records—he was a Christian Scientist—and he appeared on Broadway.

Let’s go back to 1944 and check out what Kenny had to say. The first story appeared in papers around February 11th, the second around August 10th (remember that, back then, newspapers would leave feature stories on the spike until they needed them, so they could appear months after hitting the wire).

Kenny Baker Has Good Words
BY JACK GAVER
(United Press Staff Correspondent)
NEW YORK—Up to now you could have put all the Hollywood and radio personalities who escape with a whole pelt when they make a pass at Broadway without any stage training into a ballpark peanut bag and have room left for the hulls, but not any more.
Kenny Baker, the popular tenor who happens to have a voice, is too big.
"I'm not interested in putting in any complaints against the movies and radio," Baker said in his dressing room at the 46th St. theater, "because they're great businesses, and I hope to see more of them. But somehow in the several years that I was working in those fields I didn't care to do much but sing or develop as a rather dopey foil for Jack Benny. That kind of work buys a lot of groceries but it gets monotonous. I wanted to know if I could do anything more, and I've found it on Broadway."

Kenny, a tall, round-faced, husky gent with a beguiling smile, came in cold as far as Broadway was concerned four and a half months ago as the leading man of the musical comedy "One Touch of Venus" and won himself a set of critics' notices that have come in mighty handy in this winter when you buy coal by the bushel.
Baker began looking toward the stage a couple of years ago. He went to a teacher who lowered his speaking voice and was in a receptive mood when producer Cheryl Crawford showed up in Hollywood with a script and an offer. But the story wasn't quite right, Baker thought, and besides his wife was expecting their third child. He stayed on the coast. Then Miss Crawford came back, with a written script, and got the singer's autograph on a contract.
Baker's great appeal, aside from his undoubtedly capable voice, is that he doesn't fit the popular conception of the matinee idol. He just looks like a good ordinary guy, which is the role he plays in "Venus," wherein he is a barber in a mythical suburb called Ozone Heights.
The singer began his vocalizing with a college glee club, won a radio contest after a few years and from then on had no trouble meeting the rent. His wife was his college sweetheart. They and the three children, two of whom go to school, are living for the show's duration in a house in a Long Island suburb. Their home is a small ranch in the Hollywood area.
Baker uses the subway to go to and from the theater. He gets in a couple of hours before a performance and does a bit of vocal calesthenics to get the pipes in shape. On the two matinee days he gets in shortly after noon and stays right through until about midnight, by which time he will have reckoned with some backstage visitors and removed the makeup.
“I certainly don’t have any weight trouble in this show," he said. “Matter of fact I keep losing a little weight steadily and never seem to get it back. But I'm not kicking. There are worse ways of earning a living.”
Which will do for the week’s prize understatement.

Kenny Baker Quits Films, Proves Ability on Stage
By ERSKINE JOHNSON
National Enterprise Association
LIKE a lot of other people, Kenny Baker had to go to New York to prove to Hollywood that he could act.
Hollywood discovered a long time ago that Kenny could sing, but a series of insipid screen characters inspired by his stooging on the Jack Benny radio show convinced the movie-makers that he should stick to singing.
"I was stuck with insipid characters in corny pictures," Baker says, "and I couldn't get out of them. I was typed as a sap with about as much backbone as a jelly fish."
So a year ago Baker said nertz to Hollywood, shuttered up his home, drained his swimming pool and took his wife and three children to New York. The rest you know. Kenny was a hit on Broadway opposite Mary Martin in One Touch of Venus. He sang, of course, but what pleased him most was that the New York critics were equally impressed by his acting.
He left the show recently to return to Hollywood for a radio program and the title of Radio's No. 1 Tenor. And he's pleased by something else. Several film studios are bidding for his services in straight acting roles.

One Touch of Venus convinced Hollywood that Kenny Baker could act, and it also convinced Kenny that stage work should be listed as essential to film careers. "I had sung with bands on the stage," he said, "but I had never had the chance to act before a live audience. It was wonderful training. I should have paid them for letting me work in the play."
• • •
HE'LL never forget the time Mary Martin ran across the stage wearing only a pair of shoes.
That happened during the play's first tryout in Boston. "She had to make a fast change," Kenny said, "and in the confusion of opening night she undressed on one side of the stage and then discovered her clothes were on the other side. Her cue was coming up so she just ran across the stage behind the scenery. Only she forgot there was a five-foot open place in the scenery, putting her in full view of the audience, just before she reached the wings. It was kinda dark, though, and I guess no one noticed her."
Kenny was on stage at the time. "I always miss all of those things," he said.
• • •
KENNY BAKER, a Monrovia, Calif., boy, has done all right since he switched from playing the violin to warbling. In junior college he made the discovery that he was a better singer than virtuoso. "I sang at so many Lions, Rotarians and Kiwanians luncheons that I was known as the service club tenor."
The Baker home is in Beverly Hills. But there's also a 150-acre Baker ranch near Santa Barbara where he spends most of his time, Mrs. Baker is Geraldyne Churchill, the girl next door whom he planned to marry ever since they went to high school together. They were married in 1933, and have three children—Kenny Jr., 8, Susan, 6, and Johnny, 8 months.

Baker did some stage and TV acting in the ‘50s, recorded some religious music and signed a deal for a daily 15-minute radio show on Mutual, but had pretty well retired to his ranch and his kids. By all accounts, Kenny Baker was now satisfied.

The Dean and the Birthday Bird

Do the big studios celebrate their cartoon characters’ birthdays any more?

They did once upon a time. When Walter Lantz turned 90 in 1990, Universal Studios Florida threw a bash, along with one for Woody Woodpecker, who reached 50 that year.

And whether there was a formal celebration of Woody’s 40th birthday, I don’t know, but Lantz used the occasion to talk to the press and generate a bit of publicity. By that point of his life, he was the elder statesman of animation, pretty much retired except for giving PR to Universal, the studio he connected with going back to the late ‘20s when he was put in charge of making Oswald the Rabbit cartoons and Charles Mintz was tossed out of the picture. Of course, Lantz went back further than that in animation.

This syndicated column appeared in papers starting around February 28, 1981. I’m sorry I can’t reproduce the excellent drawing that appeared with it of Woody with a large birthday cake.

Woody Woodpecker celebrates 40 years
By AUSTIN PHILIPS
United Feature Syndicate
No internationally recognized actor can look into the mirror and truthfully say, "I haven't changed a bit in 40 years." There is, however, one exception. Woody Woodpecker can say that. And that's exactly how old he is. The lovable bird has been a favorite of several generations of children and adults.
He's not just a local favorite, even though there's no doubt he's a Yankee Doodle boy. He appears today on 85 television stations and in thousands of theaters in the United States—he is also seen in 72 other countries around the world and he is a TV star in 60 foreign nations.
Woody's "father" is Walter Lantz, known as the dean of American animators. He is a fatherly, gracious gentleman of 80 years, who keeps extremely active and who shares with his wife, Gracie, the same outgoing, uninhibited, wacky personality.
In 1979, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences opened their annual Oscar telecast by presenting Walter Lantz a special Academy Award for his 60 years of outstanding service to the motion picture industry.
Woody has been the only "offspring" of the Lantz duo. And they, in turn, have become grandparents to millions of people around the world who have adopted Woody as a member of the family.

Sharing identification with Woody equally is Mrs. Walter Lantz. Gracie has been the voice of Woody for all but the first few years of his existence. Woody Woodpecker wasn't born a star he first made his appearance as a supporting actor in an Andy Pandy cartoon titled "Knock Knock" in 1940. Within one month after the cartoon was released, Woody Woodpecker was getting more fan mail than any other star at Universal Studio.
"I guess it was Woody's ornery laugh that got them," said Walter Lantz.
The laugh was so popular that a song was written and Kay Kayser's [sic] popular band of that era recorded it. It's still heard today on many jukeboxes. From then on, Woody received star billing.
The laugh is the only sound in a Woody Woodpecker cartoon that is not dubbed in various foreign languages. According to Gracie, she can laugh in 65 different languages.
The idea for a woodpecker to become a cartoon character came about when the Lantzes were on their honeymoon in the mountains in California. Every morning at daybreak, they were awakened by a persistent woodpecker who insisted on pecking on the shingles of the cabin to find the hidden acorns he had pushed under the shingles during the summer. Lantz claims that if California law hadn't protected the redheaded woodpecker, he "certainly would have borrowed a shotgun and done him in."
A few months later when Walter was looking for a heavy to annoy lovable Andy Panda, Gracie suggested it be a woodpecker.
With the rising cost of production, no company can afford to make the kind of cartoons that once were made for theaters. Lantz has steadfastly refused to revert to "limited animation" which is seen in all new television cartoons today. Thus, he continues to reissue the 375 cartoons he has made since 1940, and, fortunately, he finds a new generation of audiences with each reissue.

The Lantzes made a stop in Indiana the same year and the South Bend Tribune provided this pleasant write-up in its July 12, 1981 edition. They did a lot of charitable work after the Lantz studio closed. Lantz talks about one of his ventures to help others.

If you hear a nutty laugh... its Woody Woodpecker
By SHERRI FISHMAN
Tribune Staff Writer
Only one tell-tale sign gives the diminutive couple away as celebrities. Once the ear-piercing, rib-tickling laugh is heard, their identity is known—the creator and voice of Woody Woodpecker, Walter and Gracie Lantz.
The Lantzes are in town showing off Walter’s newest creation at the seventh International Plate Collectors' Convention. Yes, it is a Woody Woodpecker plate. Walter reproduced one of his original oil paintings of Woody doing his self-portrait on the first of a series of plates. v The first edition of the plate, numbering 10,000 copies, was sold out at the convention by the manufacturer, Armstrong’s. Walter said he was told that is unusual for a first plate. “I don’t know that much about plate collecting,” he said. “I didn’t know so many artists do plates and that so many people are interested.”
More than 75 exhibits of plates and porcelains adorned Century Center for the convention, which ends today. Almost 8,000 people came to see the exhibits at what is billed as the world’s largest trade show.
“It is so wonderful to see people enjoy Woody,” Walter said after he and Gracie spent almost two hours Saturday signing Woody buttons, dolls, plates and brochures for people who do just that.
Walter and Gracie still enjoy Woody, who is celebrating his 40th birthday. Walter said he doesn’t get tired of Woody (“I cant, he’s my meal ticket”) but he likes to do different things with him. About five years ago, be began doing paintings with Woody in them. Some of those oil paintings—one which Walter calls “Mona Woody” with the head of Woody Woodpecker on Mona Lisa’s body, another painting with Woody’s face adorning Mt. Rushmore in between Jefferson’s and Lincoln’s, and another of Woody in a Don Quixote pose, will turn into four to six more plates.

He has been painting for almost 45 years and exhibits his work in Honolulu. He and Gracie go to Hawaii from their home in Beverly Hills about three times a year. He began his work in oils with still life, but started doing paintings of Woody at the suggestion of a fellow artist.
“And the paintings of Woody sold well,” Walter said. “The paintings sell for between $10,000 and $25,000 each.” He said he was surprised the paintings sell for that much (the “Mona Woody” painting sold for $20,000 more than Leonardo Da Vinci got for the original) but the money is not the point—he gives it to charity. Walter and Gracie talked enthusiastically about their life with Woody, a character which was basically Gracie’s idea. She suggested the bird as a cartoon character after having to listen to a woodpecker peck outside of her window early every morning. Walter flew with the idea and developed a character that is known all over the world.
What most people do not know about Woody is that Gracie has been the voice and the laugh of Woody for 30 years. Mel Blanc started out as the voice of Woody, but had to stop when he signed a contract with another studio. Gracie, an actress, was one of many voice artists who tried out for the part unbeknown to Walter. She was the seventh of seven finalists in the tryouts and got the part. Walter’s surprised reaction was something she could not say in public, she said with her own laugh.
It is obvious she enjoys doing the famous laugh, as she burst out at an autograph seeker’s request. She said she has been asked to do the laugh in many countries, and on a visit to Tokyo, was asked to do it in Japanese. “So I did the laugh and ended it with ‘Ahhh So’,” she said.
Walter gives his wife much credit for her voice ability, and for sticking with Woody for 40 years. “She has become a nutty woodpecker,” he said.
The Lantzes said they enjoyed their first convention and trip to South Bend. They are staying an extra day to tour the University of Notre Dame campus and the city. So, if you hear a loud, recognizable laugh, do not think you have gone wacky—it will only be Gracie and her nuty [sic] woodpecker.

Woody Woodpecker turns 80 this year. His old studio is gone, Universal is merged with who-knows-what these days, but you can still celebrate his birthday by watching some old cartoons. I’m sure Walter and Gracie would have wanted it that way.

Puncture and Puss

A cat that sounds like Donald Duck threatens two puppies in The Wayward Pups. At least, I think he’s threatening them; I can’t make out what he’s saying other than “What’s going on here?”

Anyway, the string on the balloon the pups were playing with catches fire and slowly works its way to the balloon. The cat realises something’s happening, turns around, and....



Whoever animated this makes the cat look like it’s in pain. Here are some of the drawings as it somersaults in mid-air. You can see the paw splotches for speed. You can also see some absolutely horrible DVNR which really hurts action scenes shot on ones in this cartoon.



No animators are listed in the credits, just Hugh Harman and Rudy Ising. No, I don’t know who is voicing the cat, but I know it’s not Clarence Nash.

Diving Countdown

“One for the money, two for the show...” says Bugs Bunny as he bounces on the diving board in High Diving Hare (1949), one of the great cartoons from the Friz Freleng unit.



Gerry Chiniquy uses some of the same drawings each time Bugs comes down but animates the rabbit differently each time he’s in mid-air. Bugs is a ballet dancer the first time, moves like an Egyptian the second time, is in a sitting position the third time and then lifts the rear part of his body above his head the fourth time before the gag—the force arcs Sam off the diving platform.



Naturally, Bugs waves goodbye to Sam.



Ken Champin, Virgil Ross, Manny Perez and Pete Burness also animated on this short, with Tedd Pierce coming up with the story.