Knowing Jack Benny

I suppose the question “What’s Jack Benny really like?” is a legitimate one. A writer for one of the dailies in Los Angeles tried to answer it.

Here’s a feature story from the Evening Citizen-News of January 15, 1962. It has a few inaccuracies—Jack was not born in Waukegan, his first radio appearance was not with Ed Sullivan, he knew Mary well before he got into radio—but it’s a pleasant story about a pleasant man.

Benny mused about Broadway on occasion but rejected the idea of going on stage simply because of the time it would take up, And he would have to give up the concerts he loved doing, maybe more so than his television show.

Jack Benny — Comedian, Violinist, Philanthropist and Living Legend
By ED ADDEO
Besides being a comedian, musician, businessman and philanthropist, Jack Benny also a loyalist.
It is this quality— loyalty — that has proved to be Jack's greatest asset, and it has more than any other factor made him something of a legend in his own time, a classic image that walks, talks, eats and does all the things that legends are supposed to do.
Jack, who will begin his 13th year in television, and his 30th in broadcasting, whose name is mentioned on every list of show business greats, and whose Beverly Hills headquarters is chock full of plaques, trophies and accolades of all sizes and kinds, has, almost to the man, the same people around him now whom he had when he started out in the big time.
His comedy format was so advanced when Jack started in 1932 with the lines "Hello, folks, this is Jack Benny. There will now be a slight pause for everyone to say ‘who cares?’” that it has remained virtually unchanged throughout the years.
When he jumped from radio to television, his cast made no changes. All they did was put on make-up.
There is no real Jack Benny. Jack Benny at home is Jack Benny in his office. Jack Benny the businessmen is Jack Benny on television. Jack Benny buying a cigar in a Beverly Hills shop is Jack Benny rehearsing for next Sunday's show. Jack Benny is Jack Benny.
In a studio at Desilu Productions in Hollywood, a group of people sit around a long, rectangular table every Tuesday. This group includes the players, director and writers connected with the “Jack Benny Show” to be filmed the following Friday evening.
The day before this scene, Jack parleyed with his writers on the new script for about an hour. This is the first reading, the time when kinks are ironed out, additions put in and timing and inflection practiced.
The casual air is almost unbelievable. Everyone just knows — is absolutely certain — that everything will go well, with no squabbles, scenes or hurt feelings.
Jack and his crew, including Don Wilson, Dennis Day, Eddie (Rochester) Anderson and senior writer Sam Perrin go through the script in about two hours.
The following day there's a dress rehearsal, and they’re ready to shoot. Simple? Uncannily easy? Smooth? Yes, but it's one of the few shows around that run so smoothly.
This is Jack's secret. This is where his loyalty rewards him. His writers, four of them, have been with him n total of 76 years. They know Jack Benny inside out—his likes, dislikes, pet peeves and manias in comedy.
Don Wilson, who's been with him 30 years, knows what Jack expects of him, has done the show thousands of times, and can probably do it blindfolded. The same goes for Dennis Day and Rochester who have also been with him from the start. There are few mistakes when the “Jack Benny Show’ goes on the air.
The man behind all this is somewhat of a genius, the same quality that seems to emanate from all the great men in show business. Jack will sit in rehearsal and think for five minutes about whether line should be said, “It’s easier to slip on the girdle” or “It's easier to slip the girdle on.” A two-letter word can bother him for half-an-hour.
On the set, Jack is relaxed, agreeable and far from temperamental. He'll joke with the staff, give a short concert on his Stradivarius (which he carries wherever he goes), or suggest changes to the director. It is said that every director in the business would like to direct the “Jack Benny Show” because it’s such an easy job.
Jack has a few taboos and flares in his comedy. “People laugh because they’re surprised,” he says. “They won't laugh if they know what's coming. I don't want the obvious in my show. The obvious is never funny.”
Another quirk Jack has is that he prefers to integrate the commercials into the script, rather than leave the show for “a word from our sponsor.” And his commercials are some of the funniest bits in the show. Good natured jibes and improvisations on the message while still sending the message clearly through are a hit with audiences, and Jack was quick to seize the method.
On comedy itself, Jack doesn't think it has changed much, “although the audiences are much better now. Audiences have matured and changed much more than comedy has— not that it should, mind you.”
Jack, who has been 39 for 29 years, is vigorous for his age. (He doesn’t wear a toupee). There is a slight slowness about him, which is to be expected, but it also breathes a vitality that is amazing. In a time where comedians are falling off television like lemmings, Jack still rides the crest of popularity and hasn’t slowed down. The teamwork and familiarity of his staff makes his work easier, but the energy expended is still more than most people generate in a week.
The man was born Benny Kubelsky, the son of a clothier, Feb. 14, 1894, in Waukegan Ill. He eased into show business like many of his era did, knocking around in a few small jobs until he found an audience that wanted more and more, under the name of Ben Benny. Confusion with another comedian, Ben Bernie, led to the adoption of another name, Jack Benny. His first broadcast was on Ed Sullivan’s radio show in 1932 and his appearance led to his own show. He had already attained stature on Broadway and was immediately a hit. He’s been going ever since.
Once on his radio show, a part called for a girl to break in and read her poems to Jack. A youngster named Mary Livingstone got the part, was a hit, and became a regular. She later became a regular in the Benny household when Jack married her. They now have a daughter, Joan, and a few grandchildren.
Jack, contrary to the popular image, is far from cheap. He even goes out of his way in private life to shun the “miser” image he has created. He overtips waiters wherever he eats.
Perhaps the one thing Jack can’t shake is his genuine love for the food in New York's Automat, a place where nickels are deposited in slots that open to present the food ordered. To combat the jokes that arise whenever he eats there, he recently threw a black tie affair in the Automat, hiring a band, and giving all the guests $2 worth of nickels to buy their food.
The Benny character is summed up by the comments of the people who have worked for him all these years. Don Wilson calls him “quite a fantastic man, who picks up the ball and runs with it.
“Jack will bend over backwards to help a guy get a start or better himself in the business. He once forstalled a show so that I could sign for a Broadway part. He could have got someone else to do the show, too.”
Dennis Day, the tenor singer with the Benny group, says that Jack “has a loyalty that is hard to equal.” He says Jack is a "very generous person who is good to everyone around him.”
Jack has played benefit concerts on his Stradivarius. People like Leonard Bernstein have said of him “Benny has done more than raise the thousands of dollars to erase operating deficits of major orchestras. He has brought multitudes of people, who would not otherwise be there, into the concert halls to prove that good music can be entertaining and rewarding.
Musicians like Jascha Heifetz and Mischa Elman refer to Jack as “one of the boys,” and often commend him on his violin aptitude.
“I’d rather be referred to as a comedian than a musician,” Jack replies to the age-old query: Is he a musician with a comedy sideline or vice versa? “I’m really not that good.”
Jack, who lives fairly quietly with his wife in Beverly Hills (“If Mary found a good cheap toothbrush, she’d buy 300 of them”) enjoys playing golf (he shoots around 90) and manages to get out for a round almost every day. His greatest pleasure is playing the violin, at which he frequently practices in his dressing room.
He says he has no future plans. “I like what I’m doing now,” he says. “It’s not hard really. I would like to do a Broadway play soon though.”
The big impression when digging into Jack Benny’s life is that there isn’t a single person who can find something bad about him. He draws praise from a clerk who has just met him, to people that have watched him, lived with him and worked for him for decades.
Asked to define something unflattering about himself, Jack’s reply is “I’m a little impatient, I guess.” But then no one will agree with him.

Women and Walt

Women can’t handle being animators. Walt Disney was convinced of that. It was pointless for women to even apply for the job at his studio. He wouldn’t consider it.

The “distaff side,” as it was once called, got short-shrift at Disney for so long, it’s remarkable to see an newspaper article in 1940 telling how women were making progress at the studio. Even more amazing is in the entire story, not one woman is named!

You would never know reading the article that the woman referred to at the outset was Bianca Majolie (right). And you would never know of the harassment and the condescension she had to put up with. That was finally told in 2019 in the book The Queens of Animation by Nathalia Holt.

The article points out there were female animators elsewhere—you won’t find La Verne Harding or anyone else’s name mentioned—with the odd logic that this somehow proves that Disney was right and women were incapable of the job. It also doesn’t address the irony that Disney’s first regular character in shorts was a girl and his first feature film was about a young woman. There were many, many more female lead characters in Disney features, so many the company could mash them together and create a highly-salable entity of “princesses.”

This story comes from the Hollywood Citizen-News of February 23, 1940. There is no byline.

On the Distaff Side At Walt Disney’s
IT IS no longer news when a woman takes her piece in a men's work-a-day world. But it was news when a women artist invaded the strictly masculine stronghold of the Walt Disney studio.
The event took place about four years ago. Until that time the only girls in the studio were the few necessary secretaries and the girls who did the inking and painting of the celluloids.
The girl who caused all the excitement was a young artist who, as a child, had gone to school with Walt in Chicago.
In 1934 she was in New York trying to market a comic strip. Remembering the little boy who used to draw pictures in her school books and who was now drawing Mickey Mouse, she wrote asking his advice about the strip. He replied promptly offering much good advice.
Shortly after this she arrived in Los Angeles on the first leg—which proved to be the last leg— of a trip to the Orient. She had luncheon with Walt. He thought she should try working at the studio, but he was not sure that a woman would fit in the story end of the business. But she was eager to try and was admitted to the “charmed circle.” Not only has she proved herself in the story end of the business, but was instrumental in breaking down the prejudice against women in this particular field of work.
Up through “Snow White," there were only two girls working on the story—the above-mentioned veteran of a couple of years, who sketched as well as worked out ideas, and another who developed sequences and wrote dialogue.
The reason for the lack of women artists until the last year or so, was that animation was just about the only field. The studio was concerned with making only short subjects, which is child's play in comparison with putting out a feature production. The backgrounds used to be more simple; there was no multiplane camera for which layers of backgrounds and overlays had to be painted on plate glass in oils; technique had not reached a point where there was a great deal of air brush work used, and story sketches were not the little gems many of them are today, because it was necessary to make only rough colored pencil action sketches for a Mickey Mouse or Silly Symphony.
WITH the advent of the features came the widening of new artistic fields, and although animation is still the backbone of the productions — for without animation you would have nothing but beautiful still pictures — the beauty of the Disney animated picture as a whole has been caused by more varied artistic technique.
For instance, in days gone by, the animators maintained a uniformity of a character by following model sheets of the character drawn characteristic poses. Now, for feature productions, the Character Model department creates dimensional figures which not only enable the animator to get a better idea of what a character would actually look like, but it makes for better drawing, for they can be studied from any angle.
A young woman creates many of these little plaster figures used in the studio, as well as those used as models for the commercial industries that put Disney ceramics on the market.
Although there has never been a ban against women artists in the studio, they are in the minority. However, there are about a dozen young women artists creating atmosphere sketches and paintings for stories. These paintings, which are miniature works of art, are used by the story men and those connected with the picture to set the mood for the sequence and as a guide for the coloring.
Several of the girls in the story department started with the Disney organization as inkers and pointers. Their skill with the brush and pen coupled with visualizing ability has landed them in the story sketching division. For one of the future feature, productions they are working on an entirely new technique — that of painting their sketches directly the celluloids.
Another girl entered the Disney organization direct from an art school. Her forte is the creation of the enchanting little animals, favorites of all lovers of the Disney pictures.
ALTHOUGH there is not a woman animator in the Disney studio, the girls in the airbrush department come the closest. These girls, picked from the painting department, are capable of doing simple effects animation. Trained in the elements of animation by the special effects animators, in whose department they work, they create the movement of smoke, clouds, dust, rain, glitter on jewels, twinkling of the stars, the glow around a candle flame.
Women are playing a very important part in the preliminary work — known as story research. Here story properties are tested for possible value to the studio. These girls gather all available information on stories and books which look like possible Disney features. They take inventory of all phases of fantasy, folklore and legends of all nations, searching for basic story material of certain type that would be adaptable to the Disney medium.
ONE of the most interesting jobs in the organisation is that of the girl in charge of the fan mail department. What makes it interesting is that the fan mail received by the studio is unlike that of any other studio. The bulk of it is written by people who do not usually write fan letters. In the letters they express appreciation of the productions or intelligent criticism, although the latter is in minority. What is more amazing is that the majority of the letters is from adults!
There are two departments which the girls have to themselves — the secretarial and Inking and Painting departments.
In the Inking and Painting department 200 girls trace and paint the animators' drawing onto the celluloids which are photographed over backgrounds.
In the early days of the studio men did the inking and painting, but they were always being snatched away and turned into animators. Finally they hit upon the idea of having only girls as inkers and painters. Girls not only have more patience and a finer sense for detail line and color — so necessary for this work on celluloids, but there was no chance of their being set to work on animation. There never has been a woman animator in the Disney organization. The consensus is that a man has a better feeling for action personality and caricature. There are several women animators in other studios — the exception which proves the rule — but it is doubtful if there will ever be any women animators in the Disney organization.
WHAT corresponds to script clerks in a "live action” studio are unit secretaries at Disney's. There are 10 of these girls in the studio, each assigned to a director's unit. Her connection with the making of the picture begins with the preliminary story conferences.
Taking notes at a story conference calls for psychic powers on the part of the secretary. When creative minds start popping thoughts back and forth, it's a case of get it now — or it's gone!
Thus while the organization is still predominantly masculine, the outposts have fallen and feminine influence is on the ascendancy!

Three Part Harmony

There was a time when Disney cartoons had little bits of impossible fun in them.

Here’s a scene from Alice Rattled by Rats, a 1925 silent Alice comedy. A rat is playing the piano but apparently wants extra harmony. He splits into three.



The gag’s laughs having subsided in the theatre, the rat reassembles, using the same drawings in reserve. They’re pretty stiff but it is 1925 after all.



The short features Disney’s Felix knock-off. Julius tips his ears and detaches his tail just like Felix. Where are the Sullivan corporate lawyers?!?

I'll Take the Shovel

A hunting dog bashed by another hunting dog agrees to same fate in Out-Foxed, a 1949 Tex Avery cartoon. He hands the dog the shoved using in the first beating and gets thacked. The background changes colour to emphasise the violence.

The artwork is one thing, but coupled with it is timing needed to make the scene as funny as possible. The drawings below are consecutive. The first drawing is held for 14 frames, except for an eye blink. The next five drawings are one frame apiece, the one with the brush strokes is held for two frames, and the drawing just before impact for three frames.



Bobe Cannon, Walt Clinton, Mike Lah and Grant Simmons are the animators in this cartoon.

Bob and Ray Offers

Were irreverent publicity handouts a big thing at one time?

Jay Ward used to have his writing staff send out phoney programming advisors and fake offers in the hope of getting some of it published or aired.

Bob and Ray did it, too. And got some nibbles.

Here are three short pieces published in the Boston Globe. The pair started their careers at independent station WHDH in the ‘40s, moved to NBC in New York in July 1951, then hopscotched around. By 1959, they had a 15-minute early evening show on CBS. Some say it was their best work on the air—it was strictly comedy, other than any advertising the network may have sold. I like the NBC show better; it had the two short musical interludes and some of the material was adapted from funny routines aired in Boston. Some of the characters they developed for CBS grate a bit for me, but I’ll concede some of the comedy may be sharper; there’s something to be said about giving a “Good Neighbor Award” to an old woman who calls the police on little kids trick-or-treating.

First up is a short “interview” from July 19, 1959 (no doubt cut down from a longer release), then programming notes published August 9th and Ocober 11th. Whether they came from the network or Bob and Ray’s agency with Ed Graham, Jr., I don’t know.

Vacation Tips From Bob and Ray
Ray—What it the cheapest way to travel?
Travel Expert—Well, deportation proceedings beat them all. But I guess the next cheapest way is to sneak aboard a ship and, whe you're caught, tell the purser you never carry more than $50 on your person at any time.
Ray—Is it possible for a person to walk across the United States on foot?
Travel Expert—Not with Hawaii in the picture.
Ray—And what is the most interesting sight to be seen in the British Isles?
Travel Expert—The Guarding of the Change, which takes place at the Bank of England!

Help-Bob-and-Ray Kit Hot Item at CBS Radio
At approximately 7:53 p.m., Monday, June 29, over the full CBS Radio Network, Bob and Ray made what they believed to be the most unusual and exciting once-in-a-lifetime offer ever made by the renowned Bob and Ray Laboratories—"The Help Bob and Ray to Fame and Fortune and a Worry-Free Old Age Kit."
This tempting offer included a common pin to lock the radio dial to CBS Radio; a piece of skin-colored adhesive tape to raise the corners of the mouth, giving the lucky recipient the appearance of having a permanent wry grin; a sign to attach to the front of automobiles, reading, "I'm on My way to Listen to the Bob and Ray Show;" another sign for the rear bumper, reading, "I've Just Been Listening to the Bob and Ray Show;" and a neatly printed poster to hang over the television screen while the Bob and Ray Show is on the air, with the legend, "I'm Listening to CBS Radio— and the Bob and Ray Show."
Sympathetic Bob and Ray fans responded magnificently. A staff sergeant at Fort Benning, Ga., sent a hard-earned Green Stamp as his "contribution to the Bob and Ray anti-senility fund." A New York resident thoughtfully enclosed a blank check which was unsigned because, he said, he wanted to remain anonymous. cut a woman listener in Seekonk, Mass., wrote to state, simply, "In a sad and terrible world, thank CBS, there is YOU."
Bob and Ray constantly present new and exciting program ideas, such as the memorable "Do You Rate a Date?" On its premiere a few days ago, and elderly spinster her life ambition—a date with everyone's heart with her eloquence and, as a result, Bob and Ray fulfilled her wish, authorizing her to ask the French premier for a date.
Other special and exclusive Bob and Ray features include "How to Breed Contempt for Fun and Profit" and their newest, the Bob and Ray Kash Klub, which, according to its prospectus, will eliminate the need for carrying cumbersome credit cards.

Gourmet Club Reopens; Guest Sandwich Big Hit
To the accompaniment of lutes, dulcimers and maracas, Bob and Ray recently reopened their fabulous Bob and Ray Gourmet Club—a glittering social event which was broadcast during their CBS Radio program.
This is the second straight month that this club has been reopened, making the affair a time-honored tradition in the annals of broadcasting.
Climax of last night's broadcast came when the coveted Guest Sandwich was presented to the lucky recipient on the huge, Klieg-lighted stage which was gaily decorated with the now famous Bob and Ray colors— blue and gold— and topped by the Bob and Ray Crest.
As the scaled Guest Sandwich was carried onto the stage by four Bob and Ray guards in full dress uniform, tension mounted and necks craned almost to the breaking point. And, as a hush and some ceiling plaster fell over the audience, the seal was broken by the bonded master of ceremonies.
There was deafening applause when it was announced that the featured Guest Sandwich for the month of September was Cream Cheese and Blackberry Jam on Rye with Seeds. And as the jewel bedecked audience slowly filed out, everyone agreed that this had been the most imaginative Guest Sandwich ever and wondered what the selection would be at next month's reopening of the Bob and Ray Gourmet Club.
Also during the broadcast, Bob and Ray announced the launching of still another promotion campaign the Bob and Ray Trophy Train, scheduled to start from San Diego, California, today. This will be a special train bearing Bob and Ray memorabilia, such as their high school diplomas (reproductions of which will be available at nominal fees). The Trophy Train will take the place of Smelly Dave, Bob and Ray's huge dead whale, which is being shelved because of the onset of cool weather.

CBS dumped its evening comedy block on June 24, 1960. Bob and Ray could be heard on NBC again, doing bits for Monitor. And a five-minute version of their show, presumably the CBS version, was still being heard in 1961 on CJBC, a CBC station in Toronto.

Potted Conductor

A pun on a finger-wave opens one scene in the Walter Lantz cartoon Hollywood Bowl (1938).



The camera pulls back to reveal it’s Leopold Stokowski. He was known for conducting with his hands, not a baton.



He now conducts...a pot?



A flower pops up which he pulls off the stem, sticks it in his lapel and walks out of the scene.



It’s another celebrity caricature cartoon with all your late ‘30s favourites—Groucho, Gable, Hugh Herbert, Sparks, Fields vs McCarthy, Garbo, Joe E. Brown vs Martha Raye, Ben Bernie, Bing, Benny (Jack and Goodman) with Walter Winchell announcing at the beginning, thanks to Danny Webb’s voice.

Frank Tipper and Merle Gilson are the animators.

Highland Dancing Times Two

Friz Freleng featured Scottish characters Highland Dancing in two 1937 cartoons, Dog Daze and September in the Rain. So, was the animation re-used? We’ll post some frames side-by-side.



Yes, I do believe there was a bit of referencing going on.

Bob McKimson and Ace Gamer got the animation credits in Dog Daze while Cal Dalton was credited on September in the Rain. These don’t reflect the sole animators; the Schlesinger studio insisted on rotating credits back then. Ken Harris and Phil Monroe were also in the Freleng unit at the time.

And if the thistles look familiar...

They appear in Freleng's Flowers For Madame, a 1936 short animated by Don Williams and Paul J. Smith. The Technicolor is nice, there's a Tedd Pierce inside joke and a couple of J.S. Zamecnik's cues are on soundtrack, including "Traffic" during the fire extinguishing scene. Other than that, if you skip it, you won't be missing much.

New Look But Same Old Benny

There was an odd time on television where old stars simultaneously made fun of young people while kissing up to them.

The counter-culture of the 1960s was not the culture of Bing Crosby or Kate Smith or Milton Berle. The status quo always ridicules cultural change. They did it with Elvis, they did it with the Beatles, and they did it with “hippies.” So it was you could tune into a TV special and watch Bob Hope in love beads and saying “far out, man,” basically telling viewers “Isn’t all this stuff the kids are into really stupid?”

But their TV outings needed those kids watching for ratings. And since their culture was stuck somewhere around 1947, the stars did the only thing they could do—they brought on acts that would appeal to a younger audience but not too radical to make viewers stuck in 1947 uncomfortable.

This brings us to Jack Benny.

By 1969, he had been on the air for 37 years. Jokes about being 39 set aside, he wasn’t getting younger and neither was his audience. He had no intention of changing his routine after all that time, so you wouldn’t be getting “messages” about the Vietnam War and racial discrimination from him. Yet he had to try to appeal to a growing audience of people who were amenable to that. So he and his writers came up with the “New Look” idea. Put Jack in a Nehru jacket (which was already passe by 1969) and have him bring on a smattering of guests who were under 30; crossover acts who would also fit in with a middle-of-the-road crowd.

Jack also loved fish-out-of-water stars ever since hiring Ronald Colman to do situation comedy. His choice in the “New Look” special was Gregory Peck.

But there was also a typical Jack Benny twist. Jack was always the butt of the joke on his radio show. And in his special, the opening montage shows off how he doesn’t fit in to the counter-culture, no matter how much Flower Power he tries to exude (in one gag, he gives the Peace sign with the wrong number of fingers). In other words, he’s not making fun of young people, he’s making fun of himself.

Someone in the special who was trying to look young was Frank Nelson, who was wearing a ridiculous rug at the time. He appears in the Kodak spots.

Here are some short columns from the day the special aired, December 3, 1969.

Fine musical cast visits Benny tonight
By JOAN CROSBY
BEST BET—It's titled Jack Benny's New Look, but that's a misnomer since the real new look here belongs to guest star Gregory Peck. The Oscar winner and current President of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, puts those images aside to become a song-and-dance man. He does his act to "The Shadow of Your Smile" then joins Jack and added guest star, George Burns, to form the vaudeville team, Two Bushels and a Peck.
The younger generation is represented by Nancy Sinatra and Gary Puckett and the Union Gap. The group's feature is "The Begger" and Gary joins Nancy for a duet to "Spinning Wheel."
The "new look" for Benny comes in the beginning with the comedian garbed hippie style with a Sunset Strip motorcycle gang. Eddie "Rochester" Anderson and Lucille Ball are seen briefly, with Rochester at the wheel of a Rolls-Royce, his own.

Benny Likes His 'New Look'
By BOB THOMAS
Associated Press Writer
HOLLYWOOD (AP) — An advance review on Jack Benny's television special for tonight: "Sensational!" The reviewer: Jack Benny.
The reviewer bears the best of credentials for his evaluation: lengthy service in his field; sagacity in judging performances; articulate judgments. The only thing he might lack is objectivity.
Yet Benny, ageless, though 75, remains as enthralled by show business as the most green of juvenile. The results can be seen tonight on "Jack Benny's New Look" over NBC.
"I think it's just great," he remarked with sincerity in an interview at his office in Beverly Hills. "Every show I've ever done on television I've found some fault with. I mean, I always find something that could have been better, once the show was put together.
"This one, no. I liked every inch of the film, and I even saw it without color. Now if a show looks good to me in black and white, you can imagine how it would took in color!"
Benny was proudest of his coup in snagging Gregory Peck as song-and-dance man on the show. He admitted his reluctance to approach the actor, but his producer, Irving Fein, said, "Ask him—the worst he can do is say no." Benny asked, Peck pondered, later said, "Why not?" provided that his salary go to the Motion Picture Relief Fund, for which Peck is chairman of the fund drive.
"You know something?" said Benny. "I couldn't get Peck to stop rehearsing. I finally had to say to him, 'Greg, I'm tired! We've got to stop for a while!' " "In 35 years in radio and television, I don't think I've ever had a guest star who was more cooperative and offered no problems."
Those 35 years comprise a remarkable record in broadcasting for Benny. Most of that time he starred in his own weekly show; only in the past few years has he cut down to occasional specials and guest appearances. Not that he doesn't feel capable of doing the weekly stint.
"I still get offers to go back to the weekly show," he remarked."I got two just recently. But I told the fellows: 'You couldn't afford me."

Jack mercifully gave up on trying to be groovy and went back to wearing a tuxedo in future specials. Gregory Peck came back to rehearse, too, but the Benny special he was preparing for never aired. It was to be Jack’s “Third Farewell Special” scheduled for 1975. Jack died just after Christmas 1974.

Rudy's Boots

Time for a tough-to-see inside joke from Tex Avery’s The Peachy Cobbler from the background art of Johnny Johnsen.

There’s a pair of boots on the top shelf with a label on it. The BluRay version allows you a better look at the scrawl. Though it’s not altogether clear, you can make out a name: J.R. Zamora.

That, of course, is none other than Rudy Zamora, who started in animation working on Felix the Cat cartoons for Pat Sullivan. Zamora told historian Harvey Deneroff he answered an ad and was given a test.

Zamora came in second to an African-American, with Eddie Salter third. He recalled that, animator Dana Parker “took the black boy [aside] and told him that they’ll call him when they needed him, [as they were] not hiring anyone that day. But they kept Eddie and I. That was lousy. Then they would have hired this black guy and myself. Ed was third.” When Zamora complained about this to Parker, he was told, “The old man didn’t want any black guys.”

He moved over to Fleischer and assisted Dick Huemer, finding himself promoted to animator in May 1930 along with Shamus Culhane, who wrote:

Rudy was animating a song cartoon that had been abandoned by Dick Huemer. Glow Little Glowworm was about half-finished when Huemer left, and in one of Max’s desperate moves, he had allowed Zamora to finish the film by himself. The result was incredible; there was no way to tell where Huemer had ended and Zamora had taken up.

Zamora jumped his two year contract and headed to Disney. Culhane related how after a sneak preview of one cartoon, the newly-arrived Zamora

...was part the group listening to Walt’s litany of complaints, grudging approvals, and plans for retakes. Apparently Rudy was not in tune with the tense feelings of the group because he plucked his one-inch cigarette stub out of his mouth and waved it at Disney. “Excuse me, Walt, could I ask a question?” Disney was startled by the interruption of his though processes. “What is it, Zamora?” Rudy, looking at him in mock perplexity, said, “Tell me, Walt, what makes these things move?” Lèse-majesté! Despite the fact that he was one of the most promising young animators at the studio, Zamora was fired the next morning.

Three jobs in about three years. As you can see, Zamora bounced around a lot. He’s spotted in a staff photo of the Charles Mintz studio around 1932. Next, he and Culhane reunited at the Ub Iwerks studio. He animated and directed at Walter Lantz then moved over to MGM (apparently after a stop in the late ‘30s working for Paul Fennell at Cartoon Films), getting screen credit on a pair of cartoons released in 1942-43. Bill Melendez was at Warners then, but the two worked together on the Peanuts specials years later. Both were Mexican. About Zamora working for Fred Quimby at Metro at this period, he told chronicler Didier Ghez:

When the union signed a contract with MGM, Quimby was of course furious. He turns to one of his production managers and says, “What do these guys animate? From now on, 25 feet a week or else out!” Rudy being a cantankerous, undisciplined guy . . . He worked for me several times and I couldn’t stand him. I would fire him all the time. He made it a point of honor as soon as a contract was signed never to be caught working. He would be there picking his teeth or smoking. You know, he smoked the way Frenchmen do [Bill demonstrates indicating the cigarette inside a cupped hand.] Quimby would come in and say, “Jeez, Rudy, what are you doing?” Rudy would say, “What do you mean what am I doing, Mr. Quimby.” Quimby says, “Rudy, you should be working. Why aren’t you at your desk?” Rudy would say, “I have done my footage. You said 25 feet a week and I have done my five feet for today.” Now Quimby was watching him. He was going to watch him. You know, you had to put in your footage every day. So Quimby would come up and say, “Rudy, you’re terrible. You should be working! I am paying you good money to be a 25-feet-a-week animator and you’re not working.” Rudy would say, “Mr. Quimby, look at your figures. I have already done my 25 feet. I don’t have to do any more. I did 25 feet; I am going to go up and practice my bowling.” This actually happened. Quimby goes downstairs furious, you know, whistling through his teeth. He goes downstairs and suddenly he hears, in a hallway bigger than this . . . [Bill points to the area in which the interview is being taped.] Rudy has his bowling ball and he rolls the ball down the hall. Quimby couldn’t believe it. He says, “Rudy what the hell are you doing?” Rudy says, “I thought I had time to practice my bowling. I’m preparing for the tournament.” Quimby didn’t know how to control him. He just didn’t. Rudy never complained when they put up a time clock. It was the fact that they said he had to do so much work. Rudy was a very fast animator. He could just rip it out.

He may have returned to the MGM in the late 40s, but tracking every move of some animators is pretty much impossible.

In 1951, he was picked up by the Jam Handy Organization in Detroit, where the coffers were loaded from assignments (animated and otherwise) from General Motors. He worked there for Gene Deitch, who wrote, quoting Zamora’s claim eating a hot pepper is a discerning qualification of an animator:

He obviously thought I was too young and green to be his boss, and he constantly let me know it. He went along with the gag of working under my direction, because he needed the job. I too went along with the gag, because I needed him [. . .] to give life to my conceptions. Rudy was probably the only first-class animator Jam Handy ever had. I was delighted to take his ribbing, as long as he would stick with me, and give me what I wanted.

It was back to the West Coast for Zamora. In 1958 he was at Playhouse Pictures before being hired as a sequence director on UPA’s Magoo feature. The next year, he found himself in Mexico overseeing Rocky and His Friends for Jay Ward, then spent part of the ‘60s at Gus Jekel’s FilmFair studio before more work for Bill Melendez and Hanna-Barbera. Along the way, in 1956, he became a naturalised American; he had been born in Mexico on March 26, 1910 and came to the U.S. with his family in 1917.

Interestingly, there was another inside joke about Zamora at a studio where I don’t believe he worked. Bob McKimson’s background artist, Bill Butler, plants his name on a poster of Mexican names (some puns) in the Warners short West of the Pesos (released 1960).

Zamora died July 29, 1989 in Los Angeles.

Harvey Deneroff recorded an all-too-brief interview with Zamora. See it HERE.

Butt Biting

Van Beuren could put Molly Moo Cow out to pasture.

Film Daily reported October 18, 1935 that the studio had cut deals to make cartoons starring Felix the Cat and the characters in the Toonerville Folks newspaper comic. Both had the potential to be good series, but it didn’t work.

Three of each were released in the Rainbow Parade series before Van Beuren gave up on cartoons together when its distributor and part-owner RKO signed a deal to put Walt Disney’s shorts in theatres.

The Toonervilles generally got favourable notices from exhibitors, but the gags were anything but fresh. One wonders if Joe Barbera had a hand in the story for Trolley Ahoy, released July 3, 1936. In one scene, the trolley bounces wildly on the tracks. The Skipper, hanging on a rail, mashes Mr. Bang in the face because of the impact. Finally, Mr. Bang bites Skipper in the butt and tears off part of his underwear. It sounds like something in a Hanna-Barbera cartoon in the ‘60s.



No, the bench doesn’t change really colour. Blame a public domain print. The Rainbow Parades are close to being restored by the overworked Thunderbean Animation. It means you’ll see the Skipper, Katrinka (and even Molly Moo Cow) in vibrant three-color Technicolor and without fuzzy ink lines.

By the way, Hal Erickson’s written a book on the Van Beuren films (all of them, not just cartoons). You can check it out here.