A Horse's What?

Answer this quick! How many times did Carl Stalling put that five-note “You’re a horse’s rear end” music in a cartoon? (I say “rear end” because this is a family blog. The kiddies, you know).

I don’t know the answer but it was used in the opening of all the Snafu cartoons that Warners made for the “Army-Navy Screen Magazine” during the war. In fact, it was visualised in a couple of them.

It made an appearance in the trailer for the Snafu series directed by Chuck Jones. The cartoon concludes as you see below, with the animation of the horse “turned around” on the screen. Narrator Frank Graham concludes the cartoon with “This is Snafu.”

I won’t guess who animated the horse.

Bob Clampett went further in Fighting Tools (1943). A Nazi hand grenade blows up Snafu’s jeep, taking his clothes with him. As Mel Blanc, as the Nazi, sings a rhyming limerick, the horse’s you-know-what music plays and the butt end of a horse fades into the picture.



Again, I’ll avoid guessing at the animator here, though Rod Scribner does some fine work on this cartoon.

Puzzled Fish

The lucky ducky (of the cartoon of the same name) beats it across the lake to escape from George and Junior.



The two dogs and their motorboat are so fast, they suck away a path in the lake. The fish react.



Even though Tex Avery's gags are hit-and-miss (the Technicolor gag is brilliant), I still like this cartoon. The animators are Walt Clinton, Grant Simmons, Louie Schmitt and Preston Blair. This was the last short Schmitt animated at Metro. Rich Hogan was Avery's gagman. Lucky Ducky’s release was delayed, judging by trade press stories, until October 9, 1948.

The Scoop on TV Benny

Television slowly but surely emerged in the U.S. after World War Two ended. More and more sets were made, more and more stations went on the air, more and more sponsors put their money into it, meaning more and more stars were dipping their toe in the TV pool and eventually, inevitably, plunging in.

People wanted television. And that’s what they were getting.

By fall 1948, the networks were still broadcasting a limited schedule in limited parts of the country, but the host of radio’s Texaco Star Theatre became a monster hit on the television version of the show. He was Milton Berle. Television never looked back. The question kept being raised—“when are the big radio stars going to have their own TV shows?”

At the time Jack Benny was at, or near, the top of the radio heap. But he kept being asked when he’d make the switch to the new medium. Into 1950 he was pretty much giving the same answer. He sums up his opinion at the time in Ben Gross’ column in the New York Daily News of February 20, 1950.

JACK BENNY DISCLOSES HIS TELEVISION PLANS EXCLUSIVELY FOR NEWS
Jack Benny Talks TV . . . Although CBS' Jack Benny has no definite plans at this moment to enter television, when he does get into it, he will not appear on a weekly basis. "If I am still on radio at the time, I would do a special hour-long video show about four times a year. There is, however, a possibility I may do a couple of telecasts next year." These are the highlights of the latest and the only authoritative statement on this topic prepared by America's No. 1 radio comedian, EXCLUSIVELY for readers of The Sunday News. Millions of fans have been wondering when the Waukegan Wit would finally make the big plunge into video. All kinds of conjectures have been published: that he would start a regular weekly or twice-monthly series next Fall. . . that he would abandon his radio show to devote himself entirely to TV next season, etc., etc.
During his recent visit to New York to consult with CBS, Benny was besieged by newspaper and magazine writers, urging him to clear up the uncertainty. Nothing came from the comic save a few pleasant generalities. Finally, however, Jack made an agreement with Your Reporter: If we would send him a list of questions to which he could dictate his answers at leisure, he would finally consent to tell all. So the questionnaire went to him pronto and now, here, for the first time, are all of Jack's current thoughts on television:
Your Reporter—When do you expect to enter video on a regular basis? Benny—Only when my sponsor feels that television has over-shadowed radio. But I may do a couple of shows next year.
Y. R.—Do you expect to do a series of guest shots first? Benny—I do not expect to do any guest shots on TV until after I get started with my own show.
Y. R.—When you go before the camera, regularly, will it be on a weekly schedule? Benny—If I'm not on radio at the time, I would probably do a half hour show, twice a month. But if I am also on radio, I would only do a special big TV hour about four times a year.
Y. R.—What would be the format of your regular series? Benny—I probably would be the emcee, retaining my radio character, and there would be scenes similar to those on mv weekly broadcasts.
Y. R.—If you go into TV, will you be able to stay on radio? Benny—That all depends on how often I'd have to appear on television. I feel it's impossible to appear often in BOTH mediums and keep it good.
Y. R.—Will you incorporate your radio characters in your TV shows? Benny—Definitely, plus guests and any other new characters I could find.
Y. R.—Who will be your sponsor in video? Benny—I'm pretty sure it will be my present one, the American Tobacco Co. My association with it has been most pleasant.
Y. R.—When will you be ready to make a definite announcement about this and other matters? Benny—Probably within the next year?
Y. R.—What is your favorite TV show? Benny—There are many that I like, but I get a particular kick out of the warm humor of "The Goldbergs."
Y. R.—Who is your favorite video comedian? Benny—It's Ed Wynn. One of the reasons is that he has always been my favorite stage comedian. He is the kind of fellow that you like for himself alone. He is funny, warm and human.
Y. R.—What criticism, if any, have you to make of the current TV producing procedures? Have you any suggestions for improvement? Benny—It would be very difficult for me to make any suggestions for improvement in the technical end, because, after all, 1 know very little about it. However, I am sure that video will improve, just as the early motion pictures and radio did. But when I did my one television show on the Coast last year, even though the result was good, I thought some of the camera movements were unnecessary. I do not believe the technical part of video has to be quite as complicated as they think. I always feel that the camera should never know the joke.
Y. R.—Why should TV make you hesitant, considering your long professional experience? Benny—I'm not hesitant about entering TV. I merely feel it is impossible to do a really good radio show, plus a really good TV show during each and every week. I don't believe any individual is capable of it. Even if I felt it were possible, I wouldn't want to work seven days a week. I like to play golf once in a while.
Y. R.—Do you believe Jack Benny would have a greater appeal on TV than he does on radio? Benny—That's difficult to answer right I now. I would not, however, want to disappoint my fans by giving them the feeling that they were watching a different Jack Benny. I would try to keep my radio character as much as possible. I also believe that my many years of experience on the stage will be a great help.
Y. R.—In your opinion, would your video appearances decrease your movie appeal? Benny—Not if my TV shows were good.
Y. R.—Any other comments, Mr. B? Benny—Television will be the world's most wonderful medium of entertainment. However, 1 think that radio will go on and on. Whichever will offer the better program for a particular half hour will draw the most listeners for that period. Eventually, a good radio show will have a better chance than a mediocre TV one—and vice-versa.

Jack did what he said he’d do. He made four appearances on television in the 1950-51 season (the second one featured a long kiss by Frank Sinatra and Faye Emerson, sending some viewers into apoplexy). Percy Shain of the Boston Globe quoted Jack just days after his death:

“It took me about four shows to get into the swing of it,” he said. “And when they [the critics] jumped all over me on the first show, I was really nervous. Elsa Maxwell said, after the first show: ‘Jack, it stinks.’ But after the fourth one she said: ‘Jack, I was wrong.’”

Benny maintained his radio show through the 1954-55 season and was willing to continue, except he couldn’t find sponsorship money to pay for even a limited schedule of new programmes. It had gone into television.

It took until the end of the ‘50s before Jack went to a weekly schedule and after some bad experiences at CBS and a butt-kicking by Gomer Pyle when he moved to NBC, he went back to TV specials after the 1964-65. His Third Farewell Special was scheduled for January 23, 1975 with rehearsals after New Year’s Day. Pancreatic cancer got him before then. He kept his pledge never to quit show business. The Globe’s Shain quoted him: “I’m too old to retire. What have I got to retire to?”

A Cat, A Greek God and a Robot

Felix the Cat was, as far as I’m concerned, the biggest cartoon star of the silent era. But sound animated shorts came in by late 1928 and some bonehead management decisions left Felix behind.

There was a late catch-up by adding some background music and effects onto cartoons already made but the cat couldn’t attract a big distributor; they had all latched onto real sound cartoon characters. An attempt in 1936 by Van Beuren to bring him back suddenly ended after three cartoons (and others in various states of production) when the studio shut down.

However, Felix continued to appear in the comic pages and in 1958 was being drawn by Joe Oriolo. There was still life in him. There were also successful attempts to make cartoons cheap enough that they could be aired on television. Quality wasn’t necessarily a watchword. Ask Bucky and Pepito. But UPA had animated special shorts for CBS’ short-lived Boing-Boing Show, TV Spots had (thanks to underhanded corporate muscle) revived Crusader Rabbit and Hanna-Barbera’s Ruff and Reddy were appearing Saturday mornings on NBC. Let’s not forget Spunky and Tadpole and Colonel Bleep. Soon a deal was put together for Felix’s comeback.

The Hollywood Reporter informed readers on July 1, 1958:

TRANS-LUX TO SPEND $1,750,000 TELEFILMING ‘FELIX THE CAT’ New York.—Trans-Lux Television Corp. is branching out into TV production with 100 percent financing of a series of “Felix the Cat” cartoons to be made in Eastman color by Felix the Cat Productions, Inc., headed by Pat Sullivan, who has sold Trans-Lux TV rights in perpetuity. Dick Brandt, Trans-Lux president, says his company is prepared to spend almost $1,750,000 for production of 260 four-minute cartoons to be made in series of 52 subjects on which work starts this week. Cartoons, designed to be joined in groups of three, will be offered for national sponsorship and foreign theatrical release. Sullivan also turns out “Felix” comic strip for King Features and animated commercials. Trans-Lux is also taking over 26 quarter-hour Australian-made animal pictures produced by Artransa.

In its report several days later Broadcasting revealed Trans-Lux had been distributing the Encyclopaedia Britannica library to TV stations for two years and had seven feature films available for television. A fairly modest company.

Production must have been a boon to the New York animation industry. Was there some kind of deal with Paramount to put their artists to work on Felix? The studio’s musical library composed by Winston Sharples was heard on the Felix cartoons. The voice (and occasional writer) of Popeye, Jack Mercer, provided voices for every single character on every single Felix cartoon. Meanwhile, the Herald Tribune on January 12, 1959 reported that full-page ads were appearing in New York newspapers and TV trade publications aimed at 100 major national advertisers. If the makers of the cartoons were cutting corners, the distributor was not when it came to P.R.

Here are two of the ads.



Felix was a bountiful success for Trans-Lux. These are later ads from the 1960s.



Trades reported the Felix studio was shuttered in 1961.

Trans-Lux considered other animation ideas before it hit on The Mighty Hercules. After all, Steve Reeves’ low-budget Hercules feature films had been money-makers. Broadcasting magazine announced on January 29, 1962 a “pilot film has been completed and storyboards laid out for the first dozen programs.” Animator Lew Gifford’s column in Back Stage of March 2nd went into a bit more detail:

Trans-Lux Television Corp. will produce its new $1,500,000 “Mighty Hercules” cartoon package in New York, according to Richard Carlton, vice president, of Adventure Cartoons for Television, Inc.
European capitals and Hollywood were bypassed in favor of New York for the 130 five-and-a-half minute color cartoons. Mr. Carlton said studio and office space has just been signed for a staff of more than 40 persons, including top animators.
A national ad campaign on the series is times to start with initial screenings of the pilot Mar. 5. News of the advance “Hercules” sale to WPIX already has stirred sufficient industry interest to warrant new projections of a total of 195 cartoons by ’63.
“Hercules” is the creation of Moe Leff’s pen, known for his work on “L’il Abner” and his origination of Humphrey Pennyworth, Jerry Leemy and Little Max.
Roger Carlin is executive producer, Joe Oriolo, producer, and Arthur Brooks, production coordinator.
We had a chat with Moe Leff who told us that the firm was opening offices this week at 717 Fifth Ave. Suite 1707 and that studio space had been obtained at 132 West 33 St. Mr. Leff said that a large part of the staff would be recruited from Joe Oriolo’s recently defunct “Felix the Cat” studios.
Mr. Leff, who is also preparing material for several other pilots, said that he personally wouldn’t consider working outside NYC if he could help it and that the tremendous vitality that comes from being here would eventually show through in the quality and spirit of the finished product.

Although Leff’s name is on some trade ads, it doesn’t appear on the finished cartoons. It would appear drastic budget cuts were in order after the pilot film. Jack Mercer was punted and three radio announcers from Montreal provided all the voices. The show was unintentional camp, from Johnny Nash singing “iron in his thighs” in the opening theme, to irritating Newt repeating himself, to the Herc design (supposedly by George Peed) looking suspiciously like Superman in the Fleischer cartoons, to Jimmy Tapp’s droning narration from a room that needed something to deaden the sound.

Some more trade ads. Hercules is as real as ice cream, you know. What would that make Newt? Make Newt?



Finally, Trans-Lux had one more cartoon series to toss at stations with the right amount of money. Variety of September 15, 1965 announced that the company had bought the rights to distribute 52 half-hours Gigantor and had signed WPIX-TV New York and WGN-TV Chicago to air it.

The show was “produced” by Al Singer and Fred Ladd of Delphi Associates but it wasn’t animated in New York. It was an old Japanese show. Back Stage described it as “the story of the ‘world’s mightiest robot’ and its 12-year-old master, Jimmy Sparks. The year is 2000, a period of high scientific achievement and low-down villainy. ‘Gigantor’ tackles his international enemies on land, sea and air, super-powered by jet and electronically controlled by young Jimmy.”

Fred Ladd may be known mostly for bringing Astro Boy and Kimba the White Lion to young American TV audiences before Gigantor (né Tetsujin 28) appeared.

The cartoon debuted on January 5, 1966. Anything that tells you it was on the air in North America in 1964 is incorrect. Historian Harvey Deneroff points out 1964 is when NBC was approached about the series but passed on it.

Trans-Lux pushed the show in full-page ads as well, though not many of them.



If you’ve clicked on the ads, you’ll notice a show called Mack and Myer For Hire. This was a live action series on the lines of old two-reel comedies. They were churned out and if you’re brave enough, you can find some on line and wonder where the laffs are.

As for Trans-Lux, its TV division was swallowed up in 1970 in a stock deal by Schnur Appel of Short Hills, New Jersey. It was a company into, among other things, product licensing. Broadcasting of March 5, 1970 refers to properties including That Show with Joan Rivers and one Felix the Cat.

To me, the Trans-Lux Felix is strictly for those nostalgic people who like Jack Mercer doing falsetto and Winston Sharples’ 1950s Popeye music. The cartoons aren’t entertaining, at least to me, but that shouldn’t be a surprise considering how many were put on the assembly line. I still enjoy the old silent imaginative Felixes. The character is still a good one and perhaps animators will get another crack at bringing him to us again.

Hittin The Trail to Skeleton Land

Hittin’ the Trail to Hallelujah Land is a disjointed, lacklustre 1931 Warners release starring Piggy who is at the controls of a paddle wheeler like Mickey Mouse in Steamboat Willie.

For a while, the cartoon is about Piggy escaping from an alligator (to the background song of “Just a Blue-Eyed Blonde” by Gus Kahn and Ted Fiorito). Then it’s about Uncle Tom and skeletons in a cemetery. Finally, almost at the end of the cartoon, the villain shows up and Piggy has to rescue the girl pig.

The skeletons will likely remind cartoon fans of Disney’s The Skeleton Dance, especially in close-up.



There’s a non-Disney gag in here. A skeleton dog jumps out of a grave and barks. It’s kicked back into the grave. The odd thing is there’s a brief puff of dirt, then the scene quickly cuts away. It’s like something was edited out.

Rudy Ising is the director, Friz Freleng and Paul J. Smith are the credited animators. Joe Young and Rube Bloom wrote the title song in 1931 but for which Warners feature, I have no idea.



Yes, so long folks!

The Dog's Not Safe

The bulldog has possession of the whistle that’s been used to summon the cat that brings bad luck, and he’s going to use it to kill him.

The dog hoists a safe high above a spot to drop on the unsuspecting black cat after signalling him with the whistle. The cat simply moves the “X” that marks the spot. You can see the gag by following the frames below. A white card appears for three alternating frames to give a light effect.



Bad Luck Blackie (1948) is a fun Tex Avery cartoon with animation by Grant Simmons, Louie Schmitt, Preston Blair and Grant Simmons. Rich Hogan was Avery’s gag man.

Nanette

She once had a situation comedy based loosely on her own life, but perhaps Nanette Fabray’s show should have been more of a dramatic one.

She had success on the Broadway stage through the 1940s and early ’50—the newspaper PM profiled her in a full-page article in 1943—then was picked to work opposite Sid Caesar on television. Those were the highs.

But then came fears she was going deaf, divorce from David Tebet (later a TV executive), a nervous breakdown that required hospitalisation, then failure at TV stardom.

She overcame it all, going on to a long, high-profile career appearing on top shows.

Our first stop is December 1, 1955. By then, Fabray had left Caesar’s Hour in a display of public mutual admiration with her ex-colleague but over undisclosed contract problems. She had nothing regular to go to. She did what Imogene Coca did after parting ways with Caesar—became an itinerate TV performer.

Nanette Fabray Now Awaits Own Weekly TV Production
By MARGARET McMANUS
NEW YORK — Nanette Fabray, the second of Sid Caesar's ex-television wives and winner last season of two of the top Emmy TV awards, is currently returning to the medium in a series of guest appearances.
A week ago, on NBC-TV's Saturday night spectacular, she revived the musical "High Button Shoes," in which she starred for a year on Broadway. A few weeks ago she appeared as a special guest on Jack Benny's show. On Dec. 20, she will have a straight dramatic lead in Playhouse 90's production of 'The Family Nobody Wanted," CBS-TV.
Granted these are all important roles on important television shows, but what Miss Fabray wants is a weekly television series. The lady wants a show she can call her own.
"After I left the Caesar show last spring, I knew there wasn't time to get a television show ready for this season," she said, "but I'm working on a filmed series for next fall. I've fallen for television. I'm plain hooked. For me, it's the most exciting and challenging of all entertainment mediums."
The former musical comedy star said that before she joined the regular cast of "Caesar's Hour" last year, she had the required amount of lofty indifference to television and she was certain that the theater would continue to be her true love.
"At first I just couldn't believe it was possible to do a show like 'Caesar's Hour' every week," she said. "It's like putting on a new musical comedy every six days. I was overwhelmed. But once I got into the rhythm of it, I loved it. Professionally, it was so stimulating to be able to meet the demands."
Miss Fabray said that for all the old talk about the intimacy of having an audience just across the footlights from you, there is actually much more sense of contact with the television audience. "The immediate applause of a live audience is rewarding," she said, "but there is a definite aura about people in the theater and in the movies. The audience regards you as a race apart. In television, the audience thinks of the performers as their own special, particular friends.
"That night on the Caesar show when I got conked on the head by a falling beam, NBC had to put on extra switchboard operators to handle all the calls. Twelve different women, each one claiming to be my mother, called from 12 different states, trying to find out exactly how I was.
“They weren't trying to pry or probe. They were terribly concerned. So many people tried to get into the hospital to see me that the hospital finally put a guard outside my door. Can you imagine what this means to a performer? Performers delight in this kind of affection and attention. It's intoxicating!"
A slim, brown-eyed woman, with a kind of wide-eyed prettiness, which should deceive nobody, Nanette Fabray is a tremendously hard-working, determined, gifted actress, with talent for both comedy and drama, plus the ability to sing and dance.
Born in Los Angeles, she made her professional debut at the age of four as Baby Nan, did a vaudeville tour with Ben Turpin, the comedian of silent movies, and had a running part in the "Our Gang" comedies, now bring revived on television.
She has not yet seen herself on television in any of the "Our Gang" comedies and she does not look back on her days as a child star with any particular pleasure.
"It's a terrible thing for a child to have to compete in an adult world," she said. "A child should have to worry about nothing more urgent than which doll to take to walk."
She said she was a student at the Los Angeles Junior College, when she won a scholarship to Max Reinhardt's Dramatic Workshop. This seemed to cinch, once and for all, her destiny for the theater.
"I'd been entertaining hopes of becoming a doctor,” she said, "but this scholarship was worth $3,600 and I couldn't afford to pass it up. I guess I'd have been a poor doctor anyway."
Miss Fabray, who is not married at present, has a house in Beverly Hills, "a large, small house, only six rooms, but big, comfortable rooms." She also keeps an apartment in Manhattan. She is a frequent commuter between here and the Coast and even though she spent ten steady years here on the Broadway stage, she regards California as her home.
"My mother and father live in Los Angeles and I have brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews and we're all very close," she said. "But I do get a bit weary of this shuffling back and forth. I like to think that some day I'll get married again and settle down and have a family."
This doesn't necessarily mean she would retire from show business, for television is not incompatible with a domestic family life. And of all the fugitives from Broadway and the movies now on television, no one is more enthusiastic about it than Nanette Fabray.
And since she seems to be one who takes a direct aim at her target and has very few misses, the moral of this tale would seem to be that if Nanette Fabray wants a regular television series, it is merely a matter of time before she gets her chance.
And though it has nothing to do with TV, the stage or screen, Nanette Fabray can even cook—took lessons from the chief chef at the Cordon Bleu.

It took some time, but Fabares got her own, awkwardly-named show, The Westinghouse Playhouse, replacing The Westerner at the star of 1961. It was supposedly taken from her new married life with her step-kids.

“Almost every episode is based on actual happenings in our household,” she told UPI’s Vernon Scott. “It’s very adult and sophisticated.” Cynthia Lowry of the Associated Press disagreed after a viewing. “It was played far too broadly by all concerned, and was full of pretty tired situations and dialogue,” she decided, adding “Nanette Fabray is a great comedienne and seems wasted in the trifle.”

It wasn’t on the schedule for the following season. Fabray continued guest shots, especially with Carol Burnett, and appeared with some frequency on Hollywood Squares. That’s where many viewers noticed her doing sign language when announcer Kenny Williams introduced her.

Here’s a bit of an explanation from a syndicated column of Sept. 14, 1970.

Nanette To Tell Life Of The Deaf
By TOM GREEN
Gannett News Service
HOLLYWOOD — The publicists call her a "lovely lady."
No argument. Nanette Fabray is, indeed, a lovely lady.
She is also a lovely busy lady. In the next month or so, starting with the Broadway musical adaptation of "George M.!" on NBC last Saturday, she is making five special appearances on television.
Among them will be a CBS documentary on deafness to be shown throughout the nation beginning Sept. 22.
In the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel, she sat on the edge of an overstuffed couch giving a demonstration in the difficulty of lip reading.
"See if you can tell what I'm saying," she said.
Her lips moved three times. Each of the words she was forming looked the same.
"Do you know what they were? Pretty, pregnant and present. They all look the same, don't they?"
Nanette Fabray believes that deaf education that concentrates solely on teaching the deaf person to speak at the expense of learning sign language is not right.
"I think the individual need of the child is what's important. Speech is lovely, but education is much more important. Speech comes when the child wants it to. And sign language is very beautiful. It has a grammar and syntax all its own. Kids learn it secretly."
Ask the lady who should know. She was moving toward deafness herself until her hearing was rescued in an operation.
"No one has done a program on what it's like to be deaf. In all the things that have been done they turn off the sound and you lose your audience. In this they use me as a narrator and they show a deaf person driving and going to the store and just coping in everyday situations."
It is obvious that Miss Fabray's work with the deaf is very precious to her. She talks freely about her career as comedienne and her other charitable work, but nothing matches the affection she has for talking about the deaf.
The day before, she had been appointed to the National Advisory Committee for Education of the Deaf. She had gotten congratulations from California Sen. George Murphy.
"I once made a screen test with George Murphy, so I told him now he is a senator and I'm a national advisor."
Add that advisory chore to other assignments with such groups as the National Association of Hearing and Speech Agencies, the UCLA Hearing Foundation, the New York University deafness research center, the National Theater of the Deaf, and much more.
"Of course the roughest part is that you have to show up at board meetings all over the country. But I won't just lend my name to something. I like to work at it."
She is on the board of at least seven national organizations and she admits she runs as much as two to six months behind in her mail.
"I do all my own secretarial work. Well, I can type faster than I can dictate, so that puts me one up. And I have a crazy filing system."
She and her husband, Ronal [sic] MacDougall, the writer-producer who developed "The Name of the Game" series for NBC, live in Pacific Palisades, which is home and office for her.
If there is any interest apart from her work with the deaf that is getting a lot of attention from her these days, it's her membership on the board of the Los Angeles Museum of Science and Industry. "It's amazing that a museum can be so much a part of the lifeblood of a city."
At the museum, she has been involved in a transportation presentation to the city for a monorail system for Los Angeles.
"Alweg built the Disneyland monorail partly to show what could be done. A monorail for Los Angeles has been turned down as not in the public's best interest. But they're talking about adding a bus lane to the freeway. What kind of nonsense is that?"
She is also involved with the museum because her 11-year-old son is taking part in a science workshop program there and is studying things like computers and indexing, radiation and biology. "Honestly, it makes you tear up to hear what the kids do."
Somewhere along the line she manages to work in a full show business career. Like playing George M. Cohan's mother, Nellie, in "George M.!" Or the deaf special. Or a special called "Howdy" with Glenn Ford on ABC Sept. 26.
Or an appearance with Carol Burnett on CBS Sept. 28. Or an ABC movie called "I Don't Want to Get Married" in early October.
"Well, things do go to pot once in awhile. I'm going to have to vacuum the front hall one of these days."
Nanette Fabray has won Broadway's Tony Award and three Emmys for her work with Sid Caesar on television. But those aren't the kinds of things she talks about.
"I'd like to get a total approach to education for the deaf — any means to teach the child the concept of communication—without abandoning strict speech and lip reading training."
That's what Nanette likes to talk about.

Operations gave Fabray her hearing. Producers gave her roles. Fabray was 97 when she passed away in 2018. Variety called her an “exuberant, indefatigable actress-singer.” The Hollywood Reporter dubbed her “the effervescent comedienne.” The New York Times’ assessment was a Tony and Emmy winner with “enthusiastic charm, wide smile and diverse talents.” She was all those, and deserved accolades for her work to support and lobby on behalf of others who couldn’t hear the applause they gave her.

Brodie's Hands

Art Davis directed only one Bugs Bunny cartoon, Bowery Bugs (1949) and there are a few interesting things about it.

For one thing, there are a bunch of animation-saving stills for almost the first minute of the cartoon. For another, Lloyd Turner and Bill Scott’s plot involves Bugs being a con-rabbit in New York City. It’s a nice change and a very appropriate setting for him. On top of that, Bugs adversary isn’t a gun-toting danger like Sam or Elmer, but is still a threat and good for one animated short. Billy Bletcher was the best choice for his voice.

Davis’ pacing and timing will never be mistaken for a Freleng or Jones cartoon with Bugs, but seems fine for this short. A few verbal jokes are a little hokey but not treated as punch lines; they’re said without any real emphasis and the music and action carries on.

Emery Hawkins, Basil Davidovich, Bill Melendez and Don Williams are the credited animators. They aren’t as wild as they got in a few other cartoons for Davis, like with Shakespearean dogs or Daffy Duck. Here’s how Steve Brodie goes from one pose to the other. It’s animated on twos. I like the brushwork on the hand outlines.



Don Smith handled layouts with Phil DeGuard painting the backgrounds.

As I have opined before, I wish Davis had directed more Bugs Bunny cartoons but I suspect studio politics got in the way.