Bouncy Woodpecker

Arts and Flowers is an unusual cartoon as Woody Woodpecker is animated in ways that weren’t done very often. He’s got a stiff-legged loping walk, multiple heads and cross-eyed expressions in a number of scenes.

One scene has him behave like a tame version of the original Daffy Duck. He does handsprings and leaps as he leaves.



The credited animators are Don Patterson, Robert Bentley and Herman R. Cohen. The cartoon was released in 1956.

Some of the gags you can see coming. Homer Brightman and Frank J. Goldberg got story credits. Goldberg was somewhat infamous in Hollywood, called as a witness in a trial against Confidential magazine for supplying a story with dirt on—gasp!—Sonny Tufts.

Lux Presents...

Radio fans loved mistakes.

Every verbal screw-up by Don Wilson or Mary Livingstone on the Jack Benny radio show brought howls from the studio audience. People loved them so much, a fellow named Kermit Schafer cut a number of albums featuring on-air mistakes, though some were re-creations.

Even dramatic shows had their share, though I doubt the studio audience guffawed through them. Certainly not during the broadcast of a venerable programme like Lux Radio Theatre. It debuted on the NBC Blue network on Sunday afternoon, October 14, 1934, and moved to CBS on July 29, 1935. It made a far more important move in June 1936, when the show packed up and headed from New York to Hollywood to attract the major film stars. It helped when Cecil B. DeMille was hired at $2,000 a week to host the series. Radio historian John Dunning related in his book how movie companies stood idle while its stars rehearsed for Lux, getting up to $5,000 an episode and—what the studios wanted—huge, free publicity for their coming attractions.

DeMille and his successors were figureheads. The real work was handled by others, who also bore the headaches, especially when things went wrong. Here’s a wire story from 1953 to give you some examples. It also leaves you an idea of the timidity of network radio, even compared to the heavily-censored movie industry.

Fluffs and Muffs Turn Producer's Hair Gray
By ALINE MOSBY
United Press Hollywood Correspondent
HOLLYWOOD, Sept. 12 – The oldest radio dramatic program, The Lux Theater, begins its 20th year Monday and considering its narrow squeaks the record is a victory, its producer sighed.
Nineteen years ago, John Boles and Miriam Hopkins launched the series with “Seventh Heaven.” Since then more than 800 one-hour versions of popular movies have been broadcast, starring every big movie luminary except Charlie Chaplin and Greta Garbo.

“But we've had some catastrophic events,” producer Cornwall Jackson said with a shake of his head.
BURT WASN’T MISSED
“BURT LANCASTER forgot to change his watch to daylight savings [sic] time and arrived 12 minutes after the program started. A bit player named Ira Glosser [sic] read Burt’s role— cold— and then Lancaster took over the part. I was listening at home and couldn’t tell the difference.
“Ira,” he added, became Jeff Chandler.
Van Johnson showed up a minute before broadcasting time, causing Jackson to consider switching to the shoe business. The scare was surpassed, however, when a star dropped her false teeth in the middle of a speech but popped them back in her mouth without missing a beat.
MOST MOVIES “TOO ADULT”
HELEN HAYES did “Peg O' My Heart” without one rehearsal after Margaret Sullavan became ill. On another program, Edward Arnold was blissfully ignorant of introducing “Rasil Bathbone.”
Not counting wayward actors, Jackson’s biggest headache is finding movies suitable for broadcast. Most are "too adult” for a family radio show, he said.
The show has become such an institution that some fans think producer Cecil B. DeMille still is master-of-ceremonies. He quit in 1945 rather than pay a $1 union fee. He was succeeded by William Keighley and later Irving Cummings.
TWO YEARS ON TV
LORETTA YOUNG and Fred MacMurray hold the record with 25 Lux appearances; Olivia de Havilland celebrated her 20th Monday with “My Cousin Rachel.”
Two years ago, Lux Theater made its TV debut with original plays—“Can you imagine the movie studios giving us their scripts for TV?” mourns Jackson. Thursday, Maureen O’Sullivan and Ronald Reagan opened the Lux TV season from Hollywood. Lux was thus the first big television show to switch from New York to Hollywood, giving CBS something to do in their huge black-and-white television city.
“So far on the television show nobody’s even fluffed their lines,” said Jackson.

By this period, network radio was withering away from a lack of cash, which was being moved by ad agencies into television, where the audiences were going. Lux was one of the last big sponsors which finally gave in. The Radio Theatre was moved to NBC for the 1954-55 season, with Lux dropping the show after the broadcast of June 7, 1955.

There was still some life in radio, and there was still some life in the dramatic showcase. The network continued to air the show sustaining as NBC Radio Theatre until January 4, 1960 when it, My True Story, the weekday version of Monitor and It’s Network Time were lopped off the schedule. The last-named was a short-lived, two-hour afternoon variety show hosted by, of all people, $150,000-a-year newsman Frank Blair. It was a far cry from a programme that, year in and year out, opened with the regal phrase “Lux presents Hollywood.”

Gaston, Il N'est Pas Magnifique

Gene Deitch bewailed the old-fashioned cartoons being pumped out at Terrytoons when he arrived there in mid-1956 and decided he wanted something modern. In the process, he went back to an idea from 1932.

Pencil Mania was a Van Beuren cartoon where Jerry’s pencil drew things that came to life. Deitch and his writing team decided, almost 25 years later, to do the same thing in a new character called Gaston Le Crayon.

Five Gaston shorts were made, the first being Gaston is Here (copyright May 29, 1957). In this scene, the skinny-limbed Gaston draws a coffee pot and then paints coffee in it, all in jerky limited animation.

Gaston lays down to rest and sip his coffee, and sighs “Zat’s a cigarette.” A cigarette? No, it’s coffee.

“Ze coffee blake” (as a cuckoo watch calls it) is interrupted by construction of a movie studio on top of the hill he lives inside.

Gaston complains to either the construction company or the studio executives about the destruction of his home. But next thing we see, is Gaston cheerfully helping people enacting scenes in movies. Why? Does he think these are real people in distress? Who knows. I honestly can’t figure out this cartoon. All I know is he’s an annoying chatterbox.

In one scene, he draws something to help an actor who is playing a thirsty man in a desert. The best part of this is the irony that he’s drinking water as the Hitchcock-ish director is describing the scene.

The gag-topper is he draws a fire hydrant after all the water came out of it. Uh, okay.

Perhaps he’s exacting revenge in the next scene as Gaston draws a rocket on the director, lights a fuse, and sends him into the air with more irony, as the director says to an actor “One of us must go.” Gaston shouts upward: “Don’t forget to send packages.”

Next is an actor on the set of “Arctic Peril,” bemoaning his “frozen fate.” Gaston rushes in and draws a toaster around him. He runs out of the scene, then comes down on a sandbag from the top of the stage. This, somehow, pops the actor out of the toaster. The actor is now the shape of toast, which the director, chasing Gaston, runs through.

None of this makes a lot of sense, and I can only conclude that Deitch and his writers (three of them worked on this cartoon) decided to come up with an early Daffy Duck or Screwy Squirrel-type character. In other words, Gaston Le Crayon is nuts. On top of this, we have the “run-through-to-create-hole” gag that Tex Avery used in a bunch of his cartoons, such as Garden Gopher (1950).

At least the early Daffy was funny. Screwy wasn’t likeable, but the gags were good. Gaston just doesn’t do it for me. Sorry Gene. I’d rather watch Pencil Mania, bad draughtsmanship and all.

Phil Scheib has a Tom Terrific-type score with lots of solo instruments and dissonant sounds. Allen Swift supplies all the voices.

Wanna Buy A...

Legend is Tex Avery wanted to have a group of ducks harassing Porky Pig in Porky’s Duck Hunt, but animator Bob Clampett convinced him it would be funnier to have only one screwball duck.

There is one scene that includes a number of heckling ducks. Row-boating Porky reaches to his sandwich to eat it and the ducks quack at him. He turns to fire his rifle at them and they fly away.



Porky goes back to the sandwich. In reused animation, the ducks return. Porky gets fouled up and instead of shooting at the ducks, he turns around his rifle.



As Porky stares wondering what just happened, we get a celebrity cameo appearance.



Danny Webb provides the voice of Joe “Wanna Buy a Duck?” Penner. (Late note: Keith Scott believes the voice belongs to Jackie Morrow. I'll defer to his knowledge about this).

Bobe Cannon and Virgil Ross are the credited animators.

Tralfaz Sunday Theatre: Cheers For Chubby

There are thousands upon thousands of animated films made in the 1950s that have not had a real serious examination or compilation by historians.

That’s because most of them never appeared in theatres.

There were film studios across the U.S. and parts of Canada which made cartoons for corporations and institutions. Commercials, too. Generally, you couldn’t really consider them animation studios because they produced live action films as well.

We’ve spotlighted some of the world of John Sutherland Productions, which worked out a deal with M-G-M to release some of its pro-capitalism/anti-big government cartoons, including A is For Atom. Other fans gravitate to the works of the Jam Handy studio in Detroit, which employed animation talents such as Max Fleischer, Gene Deitch and Jim Tyer, and produced the Nicky Nome series.

One of the many studios rarely touched on is Jerry Fairbanks Productions in Los Angeles. Some will recognise his name from the deal with Jay Ward that put Crusader Rabbit on the air. He produced several filmed series in the dawning days of television syndication. But he mainly was an industrial filmmaker, and put together a cartoon division after the war. In September 1947, he hired Manny Gould from the Warner Bros. studio to supervise all his animation production.

We’re going to focus on one of Fairbanks’ cartoon shorts, a public service message sponsored by Metropolitan Life in 1951 called Cheers For Chubby.

Met Life treated this as a big deal and took out full-page magazine ads promoting it, offering a free copy of a booklet on weight. The secretary of the American Medical Association wrote in the June 1951 edition of California Medicine:

Metropolitan Life Has New Movie on Overweight. I have just seen the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company’s new movie entitled “Cheers for Chubby,” and it is exceptionally well done. It will be presented in commercial theaters throughout the country.
The movie is based on information obtained in interviews with the A.M.A., the Public Health Service, and the Milbank Memorial Fund, as well as various nutrition agencies, hospitals, clinics, medical schools and health departments.
This 8-minute theatrical animated short in color was made because of the growing feeling that overweight is a major health problem and that control of it, particularly after middle age, should result in a substantial increase in health and longevity.
Dr. D. B. Armstrong, a Metropolitan vice-president, said the film would be made available within a short time to state and county medical societies for showing in their areas.

The Library of Congress catalogue describes it this way:

Summary: An animated cartoon. Discusses the dangers and discomforts of excess weight, points out the importance of seeking and following the doctor's advice in reducing, explains some of the fundamentals about reducing diets, and describes the importance of determination and patience in achieving weight control.

The Motion Picture Herald of May 12, 1951 pointed out it was made using a new Du Pont colour process.

This was one of several “don’t pork out at the dinner table” industrials made at that time. Coronet came out with Good Eating Habits (1951) with Jam Handy producing Weight Reduction Through Diet (also 1951) for the National Dairy Council.

As for Cheers For Chubby, the animators aren’t listed, but Gould and Art Scott get direction credits and Lou Lilly is the animation supervisor. Scott was a former Disneyite who made the Mel-O-Toons in the late ‘50s, worked on Beany and Cecil for Bob Clampett then settled in at Hanna-Barbera. Lilly was an ex-Columbia animator who found work at Warner Bros. and opened his own studio in the 1950s.

Bing Crosby’s announcer, Ken Carpenter, narrates this short; he performed the same duties on other Fairbanks shorts as well as Paramount’s “Speaking of Animals” series. Ed Paul was Fairbanks’ in-house composer, though the studio switched to the Capitol Hi-Q library in the ‘60s, probably to save money.

An 11-minute version of this short was produced for television with a live-action prologue and epilogue, and entitled Losing To Win

This dub is a little fuzzy. Perhaps a better version will surface on-line.

Not Tonight Jack

“Check your local listings” sometimes didn’t work in the Golden Age of Radio.

Jack Benny toiled for NBC for most of his radio career. Sitting in an office at 30 Rockefeller Plaza was a gentleman named J. Vance Babb. In 1938, he was the manager of the Press Division of the NBC Publicity Department. His staff communicated with the press to make sure the local listings were correct.

All the networks issued press releases about their programmes, hoping they’d be picked up by local papers to give free publicity. One newspaper that was extremely cooperative was the Greenville News in South Carolina. It owned WFBC radio, which happened to be the local NBC affiliate. And judging by the paper’s radio page of the time, it apparently filled space with oodles of NBC news releases (and posed photos) promoting shows to air that day.

One of the more interesting ones appeared in the October 16, 1938 edition promoting the evening’s Jack Benny Program. That’s because the show advertised was not the show that made it onto the air.

I presume the NBC PR department had a deadline to write their releases. Jack and his writers began meetings on Tuesday to come up with a rough draught of a show, and then polished it. On several occasions, this blog has mentioned shows that were tossed out and re-written the night before the broadcast. When that happened, NBC’s carefully crafted news release would be out of date.

This is what the paper published on the 16th:

JACK BENNY CAST CALLS ON DEVINE IN SHOW TONIGHT
Don Wilson, Andy To Be In Weighing-In Contest As Added Feature
KENNY PICKS HIT
Jack Benny and his gang will smoke out Mayor Andy Devine from his office in Van Nuys, Cal., during the broadcast with Mary Livingstone, Kenny Baker, Phil Harris and Don Wilson over the NBC-WFBC network today at 7 p. m. Gravel-voiced Andy will be making his microphone debut of the season, postponed from last week when a movie retake kept him out of the show.
The diligent mayor will desert his offices behind the old cowshed on his Van Nuys rancho with malice aforethought this time. Andy is trying to dispose of his home-grown crop of "Havana filler" tobacco at Jack's expense. If Jack buys the crop of manufactured stogies, it probably will be at some one else's expense.
As an added feature of the broadcast, Jack will stage a weighing-in contest between his heavyweight aides, Don Wilson and Andy Devine, both former star footballers. Don, who steadfastly maintains that he lost three chins and a hangnail during the summer, is giving odds that he tips the beams at a lower figure than his gravel-voiced competitor for the local beef-trust title. With the aid of diet, strenuous exercise and nerve-wracking lack of sleep, Don has shrivelled to a mere 220 pounds. Andy, on the other hand, has been trying to fill out to the proportions of his political job.
Timid tenor Kenny Baker will battle through the smoke screen to sing the popular favorite "I Used To Be Color Blind" and Phil Harris' orchestra will play "For No Reason In Rhyme." The band also will unfold a new arrangement of "Don't Cross Your Fingers."

About the only thing accurate is Andy Devine did appear, and Harris played the two numbers mentioned, although Don Wilson introduced one as “For No Rhyme or Reason.” Kenny’s song was “I’ve Got a Date With a Dream.”

The plot outlined in the NBC release never happened. At all. It wasn’t postponed to a later broadcast. There are other occasions where the Benny summaries aren’t quite the same as what went on the air, though the broadcasts on the Sundays before and after this show reflect what was promoted. Why such a drastic change was made is open to speculation.

What actually went on the air was a programme bidding farewell to the NBC studio at Melrose and Gower. The following day, the network was to open its “Hollywood Radio City” on a 4 ½ acre site at the northeast corner of Sunset and Vine. The Los Angeles Times reported a three-storey lobby linked the office building with four auditorium studios linked together with glass brick walls. A mural 25 feet high and 40 feet wide portraying radio covered the entire curved half of the northeast wall. Naturally, this lovely building was torn down starting in May 1964.



It’s possible because the building was a huge deal to NBC, Benny and his writers decided instead of a show involving Don Wilson’s weight, they’d build a programme promoting the new network West Coast headquarters.

It’s actually a pretty funny show, though it’s a little odd at the end where one of the NBC demolition workers, who have been called Laverne and Mervin, suddenly turns out to be network vice-president John Swallow.

Listen to the show here. Elliott Lewis is Laverne, Ed Beloin is Mervin.

A Wolf, a Pincushion and a Keystone Kop

One of the great voices of animated cartoons started his career on film in the silent era.

He’s Billy Bletcher.

Bletcher was one of the first professional actors to be hired to perform dialogue in cartoons in the 1930s as they evolved from using studio staff to speak whatever words were heard underneath synchronised music and effects. But not too many years earlier, he was one of the famous Keystone Kops. In later life, he was one of the last of them and toured around the U.S., meeting silent film fans.

Animation fans reading here will likely know he was the Big Bad Wolf in Disney’s The Three Little Pigs (1933). He soon seems to have started popping up at other cartoon studios, especially Warner Bros. He voiced evil villains (lawyer Goodwill in The Case of the Stuttering Pig, 1937), comic villains (Colonel Shuffle in Mississippi Hare, 1949), not-quite villains (Owl Jolson’s father in I Love to Singa (1936) as well as the frustrated Papa in Chuck Jones’ Three Bears cartoons.

Keith Scott’s wonderful two-volume set on cartoon voice actors reveals Bletcher was interviewed about his cartoon career, and recalled Tex Avery was “a great booster for me. He’d say, ‘What are you fooling around for? Get Bletcher.’” But the book also quotes Avery as admitting he stopped using that type of voice in his cartoons. It also quotes Bletcher about losing roles to Mel Blanc because Blanc was under contract at Leon Schlesinger’s studio and using him saved money. Bletcher worked at other studios, including a memorable role as the Pincushion Man in Ub Iwerks’ Balloon Land (1935) and even showed up in the John Sutherland short Make Mine Freedom (1948). There were many, many more.

But let’s talk about his silent career. His hometown papers wrote of him a number of times. This story was unbylined in the Lancaster (Pa.) New Era of August 5, 1916. It tells of long-forgotten films and non-remembered actors.

A LANCASTER BOY WHO SCORES IN THE MOVIES
Billy Bletcher, By Hard, Persistent Work, Has Won a Name For Himself—In Big Demand Also As Vaudeville Artist and Singer
One of the “livest” of the fraternity of players in the motion picture world and the son of the Red Rose city who has best made his mark in that greatest of public theaters to-day is "Billy” Bletcher. Through an unshaken belief in himself despite any discouragement encountered and a determination to “make good" in the attainment of his ideals, Billy has faithfully "followed his star," and today occupies an enviable position in the “movies” where he has appeared with some of the best, has made a good impression among fellow-actors and, what is more important, has through his gameness, independence and undeniable talent won the respect and admiration of the managers of the various big companies upon whose films he has appeared in the past, and is appearing more prominently than ever to-day. His role is mostly that of the fun-maker and at this he is an adept. Audiences from coast to coast of the continent have been convulsed with merriment through the presentation of his acting.
Has Won Place In Front Rank.
By hard work, with few advantages in the way of preparation, and with no pull or drag as some people call it, Billy Bletcher has won a place in the front rank of entertainers. A fair field and no favors has been his motto. His every effort has been an artistic success and his future is assured.
Alone and unaided, his career began before he was seventeen, and he has been less than five years before the public. With ability and versatility, he has that irrepressible energy commonly called nerve. In Demand as a Juvenile.
At the tender age of nine he began to show great aptitude as a mimic and was in demand for juvenile entertainment. One of his favorite stunts was to ring the bell at a down-town Lancaster auction sale. His pay for this service was collected nightly and spent the same night to get into one of the theaters. He became so busy ringing that bell that he did not get to choir rehearsals and finally the musical director said: “Billy, you're fired.”
Was Cabaret Singer.
But he was undaunted. It was as a cabaret singer that he made his debut in the amusement world. In addition to regular engagements in cabarets he sang on a contract with Jos. W. Stern & Co., introducing their latest song hits. After a tour through Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York and New England he had a reputation as “the little fellow with the big voice” and came back to Broadway to find vaudeville and minstrel engagements waiting for a performer of about his calibre. In fact, wherever he has been his services have been in demand as a vaudeville entertainer, from Boston to Jacksonville, Fla. In the latter place he played a number of vaudeville and concert engagements in addition to picture work with the Vim Film Corporation.
Played By Ralph Ince.

His first venture in the movies was with the old Reliance Film Company, where he was seen in good parts with Rosemary Theby. After this company went to the wall because of financial difficulties through lawsuits he returned to vaudeville; but not for long, as he had “the bug” and wandered into a vitagraph to take a chance again at the bottom of the ladder. Ralph Ince, the comedy director, soon noticed him and had him play all kinds of parts in farce comedy. In “He Danced Himself” Bletcher played four different parts, in only one of which he looked like himself. In the other three his identity was hidden completely, especially as the corpse brought to life by the “lively” waltz and a slight accident.
Starred in Jarr Family.
Director Davenport, of the Vitagraph Comedy Co., started a serial entitled “The Jarr Family.” In it Rose Tapley, Billy Bletcher, and some of the very best farceurs of that company had Lancastrians going every week to see Jarr, his troubles and joys. It was with the Vitagraph that Bletcher scored some of his best hits. Among these were: "Tomboy and Freckles” and "The Methods of Margaret,” in both of which he supported Lillian Walker; and “Whose Husband?” in which as the old sea captain he played the best of four good parts with: Flora Finch, Kate Price and Jay Dwiggins. With this company he played other good part too numerous to mention; but he could be seen every week and oftener on the screen at the leading Lancaster photo-play houses. Not to be passed without note, however, are the Sidney Drew comedies in which he always had especially good parts.
Mrs. Billy Bletcher.
It was during his engagement with the Vitagraph people that he met Miss Arline H. Roberts, of Brooklyn, who was to become the future Mrs. Bletcher, then playing parts in motion pictures with the same company. Mrs. Bletcher is a rising young artist, who has made good in ingenue parts, and will be heard from in the near future.
It was while he was with the Wizard Film Company, a branch concern of the World Film Corporation, that he played prominent action parts in “Marrying Money,” "Over Night,” etc.
Working In Jacksonville.
Last December 15 the young Lancastrian and his wife started to work for the Vim Comedy Co. at Jacksonville, Fla. Some of the pictures produced there, in which they appeared, were shown at two Lancaster theaters and seemed to please many people. These films were of the wild, rollicking, “slap-stick” variety.
At the present time Billy Bletcher is in New York City, and its environs, where he is working every day with that determination and enthusiasm which have marked his whole career and insure him a great future.

His cartoon career was briefly mentioned in several articles in the ‘30s, with the exception of this story from 1937; it appeared in papers over the course of months whenever an editor needed entertainment filler. The writer was at one time with the Associated Press; I believe he was freelancing for a syndicate at this point.

Hollywood News And Gossip
BY ROBBIN COONS
Hollywood— The man with a thousand voices has just signed away one of them.

For 15 years—in vaudeville, on the air, in pictures—Billy Bletcher has been in show business. His weird ability to mimic anybody or anything practically stole away his own identity. He found himself becoming a “voice” — or many voices.
Once, on the air, he substituted for a famous comedian and 1isteners never knew the difference. When Hollywood’s animated cartoons began to talk. Billy spoke for all of them. Vocally, he has been pig, frog, dog, rabbit, mouse, horse, cat, practically all the creatures of the animated screen. In spare time he has played parts in feature pictures, sung on the air. His tenor is trained for music, too.
Metro was launching a new series of talking cartoons, “The Captain and the Kids.” For it, Bletcher was signed to a contract. He will speak for the Captain—and he cannot use that voice for any other purpose.
But he is still free to use the other 999 voices in his repertory. He calls it the ideal contract.

Bletcher continued to appear on camera after sound came in. He made shorts with Billy Gilbert. One of his roles was in the Jack Benny feature Buck Benny Rides Again (1940). Jerry Lewis cast him, too. His last hurrah may have been a 1971 turn as Pappy Yokum in an ABC-TV special, filmed on a lot where he had made motion pictures more than a half-century earlier. He died in 1979 at the age of 84.

If It's Good Enough For Fibber...

...it’s good enough for Barney Bear.

One of the most famous of all routines from the days of network radio was Fibber McGee’s closet. As soon as he opened it, the sound effects man unleashed a cascade of noise of falling stuff that ended with the tinkling of a bell. Audiences loved it.

If that’s the case, they should love it when Barney Bear does the same thing. And he did in The Uninvited Pest (1943). The pest happens to be a squirrel, who wants to eat the nuts Barney is munching on in bed. Barney eventually fires his rifle at the critter, blowing a hole in the closet door (conveniently labelled “closet”). Barney decides to go in after him.

Cue the Barney multiples to quicken the action.



The Film Daily called the film "amusing." Maybe I just don't find frustration humour funny. Barney Bear doesn't do a thing for me.

This was Rudy Ising's last directorial effort at MGM before going off to war at Camp Roach. George Gordon took over and made a few more Barney cartoons before he left to work for Hugh Harman.

The Old Basket Gag

Tex Avery tries out “magic tricks gone wrong” gags in Hamateur Night and Believe It Or Else, both released by Warners in 1939.

Here’s the one from Hamateur Night. Note one of Avery’s silhouettes (Egghead in this case) in the first frame.



Swami River commands Egghead to come out.



“Usher, give this gentleman his money back.”



In Believe It Or Else, the gag is sawing Egghead in half. It may be the funnier of the two magic-trick gags.

It’s still a crime that neither cartoon has been released on a home video format, outside of laser discs years ago. These are two of Avery’s more solid cartoons at Warners, though I can’t say I’m escited about the animation of Swami River in the scene above.

Paul J. Smith gets the revolving animator credit, with Jack Miller handed the story credit.