Monthly Archives: December 2007

For reasons explained here.

A touring exhibit is attempting to trace and maybe explain how so many of the great comic book super-heroes were created by Jewish folks. I keep getting asked about the connection and have never come up with any better explanations than the ones cited by others in this article.

Today, you get to see the opening and closing to one of the more bizarre cartoon shows ever on Saturday morning — Will the Real Jerry Lewis Please Sit Down. That was how it was punctuated, by the way — no question mark at the end. It was produced by Filmation and was on the air from 1970 to 1972 on ABC. Even at the time I wondered how it came about. A few years earlier, someone might have said to someone else, "Hey, kids love Jerry Lewis movies…maybe they'll watch a cartoon show about him." But by '70, Jerry's film career was crashing and the movies he was making were things like Which Way to the Front?, which targeted (and failed to snag) an older audience. His TV career wasn't doing much better. A weekly variety show on NBC had just been cancelled. So why did anyone think America was eager to watch an animated version of the guy? Your guess is as good as mine.

Publicity at the time said that Jerry contributed to the scripts, and I recall at least one article that claimed (wrongly) that he was doing his own voice. The lead was actually by David Lander, who later became famous playing the character Squiggy on Laverne and Shirley. At the time, he was a recent member of The Credibility Gap, a brilliant troupe of L.A.-based satirists who did most of their work on radio. The other voices in the Jerry Lewis cartoons were by Howie Morris and Jane Webb. As for working on the scripts, I'd be surprised if Jerry spent much more than a long lunch hour discussing ideas. (He was off shooting The Day The Clown Cried during much of the time the show was being produced. They should have based the cartoon series on that.)

In each episode, Jerry was placed by an employment agency in some job where he'd prove to be utterly inept but would somehow manage to save the day. Along the way, he'd either find an excuse to dress up like one of the characters Jerry had played in one of his movies or run into them…and that's about all I remember about it. I haven't seen an episode in 35 years and haven't noticed any groundswell of demand to bring it back. But one of these days, it'll turn up somewhere…

Do you like Sudoku puzzles? Every so often, I get on a Sudoku kick for a week or so, feeling an urgent need to solve one each morning before embarking on my real work for the day. Eventually, I encounter one that is so maddening that once I do solve it, all others seem anti-climactic and I break the habit for a while. That was the case with this one, which took way too long. You might have better luck with it than I did. Then again, it might take you as long as it did me. So you'd better not go there.

I always thought the "they go in threes" belief was silly. People in show business die every day and every time someone really notable goes, folks pick two others who died at about the same time and they say, "See? They always die in threes." But depending on how long a time span you choose or how famous you expect the people to be, you could make the case for them dying in twos, fours, fives or almost any small number.

That said, it's sad to make note of these three: The great jazz musician Oscar Peterson has passed away. Ruth Wallis, a comedienne and singer of bawdy songs, is gone.
And the great choreographer-director Michael Kidd has left us.

I have nothing to say about Mr. Peterson and Ms. Wallis other than that I enjoyed their records. Michael Kidd, I actually spoke with on the phone for about ten minutes when I was researching the Broadway show and movie of Li'l Abner. For some reason, he asked me not to quote him directly in the article and then made doubly certain I wouldn't by telling me nothing whatsoever of interest. Still, I got to tell him how much I'd always loved the shows and movies he directed and/or choreographed. That was nice.

A bit of holiday animation by illustrator R.O. Blechman. This was done as a promo for CBS in 1966 and captured the holiday spirit better than a lot of the Christmas specials that aired before and after it.

A lot of folks in the movie and TV business are having a nervous Christmas owing to management/labor unrest. There's a tendency to only call it "labor unrest" and in this case, I think that's a misnomer. It's our unrest only in that we've been forced to take a stand, backed into a corner where a strike was unavoidable. This is my fifth Writers Guild strike and I honestly don't think any of them were avoidable. Some of them could perhaps have been fought earlier and been less bloody. Some of them could arguably have been fought later and been even more destructive.

But avoidable? Sorry to say, I don't think so…and I'm one of those folks who thinks the best way to win a fight is to not have it. Whenever possible, I like to sit down, discuss needs and differences of opinion and arrive at some set of creative solutions and compromises that gives everyone what they want/require. That is not, sad to say, an option that has been open to us in dealing with the AMPTP.

Our members understand this, which is why they've been so good about hanging together. People outside the WGA "get it," too. The other day, I had a long conversation with one of the men who's rebuilding my kitchen. He understood completely, and without me explaining it to him. He's had jobs where the employer kept chipping away at his income and benefits, counting on the fact that no one's going to up and change jobs over the little cutbacks. "Nibbled to death by evil ducklings" is how the worker put it. At some point though, the nibbles add up and become major bites…and that's when you have to say, "This stops now." In his case, he could quit one construction company and go to another one. We don't have quite that luxury. As a unit, they're all trying to hack away at the financial foundation of our profession so we have to quit them all at once. I wish there was another way.

Lately, they've been employing Scare Tactics. You know: The CEOs are so mad at us that they're willing to blow off not only the rest of this TV season but the one after, as well. In every one of the previous four strikes, we had those threats of burning down the factory, breaking the union, destroying our whole profession. It's never happened. Eventually, they have to make a deal with us, just as they have to make a deal with the Screen Actors Guild and the Directors Guild, neither of which is going to accept terms as rotten as the ones presented to us.

How and when this will end, I do not know. Despite all the rumors and games of Good Cop/Bad Cop being played, I still think the strike will end sooner than a lot of people think. I wish I was certain of that but all we can go by is logic and in this arena, illogical things tend to happen. I am pretty certain though that if we take a crappy deal this time, then in 2011 when the 2008 contract is up for renegotiation, they'll offer us a deal three times as crappy, take it or leave it…and we'll have to strike three times as long just to put a dent in it. At least.

ABC ran the animated version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas this evening. It was a half-hour special when it first aired in 1966 but nowadays, there are more commercials in a network show so they have a choice: Chop it down or pad it out. They chose to pad the show out to an hour by inserting filler aplenty, including a little documentary on the making of the special.

The documentary was produced in 1994 and its makers were able to interview several folks who worked on the show and have since passed away — director Chuck Jones, composer Albert Hague and voice actor Thurl Ravenscroft. It was also hosted by someone else who's no longer with us…Phil Hartman. In fact, he's not even in the documentary anymore. A few years ago, Warner Brothers redid his sequences and narration, replacing Phil with Tom Bergeron. I suppose we should be grateful they didn't replace Chuck, Albert and Thurl while they were at it.

Even though I have the animated special on DVD, I got hooked watching a little of it on ABC. It still works. Some of Jones's later animated work smacks too much of his own stylistic quirks. He was an overpowering director and when he handled someone else's characters — the Jones-directed Tom & Jerry cartoons, for instance, or his Pogo special with Walt Kelly — everyone came off looking like Wile E. Coyote and twitching their noses. But on Grinch, perhaps because he had Dr. Seuss hovering about or because the Good Doctor's style melded well with the Jones look, there was a unity of style and purpose. The additional story points, which came mostly from a brilliantly mad animation writer named Bob Ogle and an artist named Irv Spector, expanded the Seuss story without wrecking it. It's probably my third-favorite Christmas special, following A Charlie Brown Christmas and Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol.

It won't make your holidays any brighter but Fred Kaplan has an article up detailing what's likely to happen with Iraq in the next six months. And if you really want to be depressed about the world situation, read Christopher Hitchens on North Korea.

Here we have "The Night Before Christmas" as read by a whole bunch of voice actors including Gary Owens, Tom Kenny, Brian Cummings, Jim Cummings, Eddie Deezen, Grey DeLisle, Candi Milo, Billy West, Jennifer Hale and Don "The Movie Trailer Guy" LaFontaine. I believe Jim Cummings is the first person I've ever heard do an impression of Professor Irwin Corey. I'll bet there's a lot of call for that.

We love this kind of story. Earlier this year, the Circuit City chain, which wasn't doing so well, decided it could save money by firing 3,400 employees and replacing them with folks who'd work cheaper. In most cases, it meant getting rid of salespeople who knew about computers and electronics and the equipment sold in those stores, and bringing in kids who didn't know as much.

So, how has this worked out? Well, Circuit City just reported its fifth straight losing quarter and warned stockholders that it won't post a profit for this holiday season, either. When you're selling electronics equipment and you can't make money at Christmas, you're really doing something wrong. But at least they've wised-up a little and are now trying to hire a lot of their old, more knowledgeable employees back.

Recently, we pointed you to the trailer for the 1934 film starring Laurel and Hardy known as either Babes in Toyland or March of the Wooden Soldiers. This prompted some interesting e-mails, including two from Randy Skretvedt, who is the author of the best book on the making of The Boys' films, and one I highly recommend. In his first message, he writes…

You're right about Mr. Roach not liking Babes in Toyland. I got to do formal interviews with him twice, and on both occasions he launched into the whole grisly saga of his story versus Stan's story before I could ask him my first question — so it was still a hot issue with him. I remember as he told me his idea for the story, I smiled politely while my stomach sank and I thought, "Oh, boy, this would never have worked as a movie!" I don't know if Stan actually told him that they couldn't use his story because it wouldn't allow them to wear the derby hats (that story's in my book) — if Stan did, he was really grasping at straws for a reason to turn down Roach's idea.

As for the colorization of the film, there are two different color versions — a better one came out on DVD last year. Generally I don't like computer-colored versions of movies, but this one is pretty good, and the film certainly lends itself to being colorized. Henry Brandon told me that it was a thrill to walk onto the set every morning, because everything was painted in bright colors, like a child's storybook. And John McCabe mentioned in his liner notes to the soundtrack LP that Stan felt Babes in Toyland had more consistent entertainment values than any of their films, and his one regret was that it hadn't been made in color. Ah, well, three-strip Technicolor was still a year or so in the future in 1934.

I don't recall Mr. Roach's plot as sounding particularly unworkable when he described it to me…but then he didn't go into much detail and the plot may have changed over the years. I suppose we should just be grateful that he gave Laurel and Hardy and their writers as much freedom as he seems to have given them most of the time. Over all, he seems to have been the ideal boss for them, at least in non-monetary ways. I can forgive him the occasional exception, especially since it didn't result in a bad movie.

You make me want to check out that new "colorization" of the film. I recall not minding the first one all that much, especially since the black-and-white copies then available weren't too sharp. Actually, what I minded more in some of the past computer-colored Laurel and Hardy films was someone monkeying with the musical track.

Here's Randy's other message to me…

Just watched the Babes in Toyland trailer and had a couple of trivial notes for you. The announcer at the beginning is Ken Carpenter, who would go on to do hundreds of radio shows, memorably as a straight man for Bing Crosby on Philco Radio Time. The shot of the Town Crier all by his ownsome is unique to this trailer, as is at least one of the shots where Ollie is being "ducked" prior to his banishment to Bogeyland.

A gorgeous new transfer of the film from 35mm materials, in black and white, is now available as part of the 3-DVD MGM Holiday Classics Collection, which also includes The Bishop's Wife with David Niven, Loretta Young and Cary Grant, and Frank Capra's Pocketful of Miracles with Bette Davis and Glenn Ford. Even though it's listed in the packaging as March of the Wooden Soldiers, the actual film is entirely intact, with the original Babes in Toyland main title — and even including the MPAA Production Code title at the very start.

I shall have to pick that up…which I (or anyone) can do by clicking here. And then you can read this message from my friend, John Tebbel, commenting on my observation that a lot of people recall seeing Babes in Toyland in color when it wasn't…

Other possible explanations for the Babes in Toyland effect…

Just as you can dream in black and white, I think one's perception/memory will sometimes fill in the colors in black-and-white photography. I also think that some sort of colorization takes place when you're in the flow of a black-and-white movie; your brain knows the sky is blue and many other things and colorizes in a meta-conscious way, just trying to be helpful; you couldn't "do it" if you tried. If you "stop to think" you perceive "reality" once again. William Burroughs posits a similar effect about languages, saying we all understand them all, or some such, but we know we don't so we don't. And little kids eat ivy.

Also, Babes is the type of film that most lends itself to today's crude colorization (pace Ray Harryhausen). Someone who's not used to seeing a lot of early Technicolor might think a colorized Babes looks funny because it's deteriorated, or some such nonsense.

And there was this character in a 50's comedy who "saw movies on the back of his eyelids."

Lastly, we have this from Jim Hanley…

I don't know if I ever mentioned this, in response to past mentions of Babes in Toyland on your site, but I was at the Sons of the Desert International Convention in 1986. There, I was at the same table with [cast member] Felix Knight for one of the dinners. After the meal was over, another Son came up to Mr. Knight and told of seeing Babes in Toyland, during its initial release. He asked if he had imagined a scene in a school house. Mr. Knight though for a second and said, "Of course! It was the 'I Can Do That Sum' number. They must have cut that when the film went into wide release."

When asked more about the scene, he said that Stan and Ollie sang the song with some of the Our Gang kids. Have you ever heard of that footage still existing (other than possible mentions I've made in the past)? One of the Founding Tent officers of the time said that he believed that the Roach Studio had all sorts of footage in their vaults that they hoarded, waiting for an opportune moment to release it for maximum financial gain. That's led me to hold out hope for two decades, now. What do you think?

I think that if they have unseen footage and haven't released it, it's probably because they don't know they have it. Any historians who've dealt with almost any company in the home video business have been stunned at how often companies don't know what's in their own vaults and, even when there's serious money to be made off it, aren't all that interested in finding out.

The release of Laurel and Hardy movies on DVD has generally been handled poorly and has led to the erroneous (I think) belief that there's no market out there for their films. And that, in turn, I'm sure has led to not a lot of dollars being expended on searching for lost treasures. I don't know about the missing scene you describe but it wouldn't surprise me if it was filmed. It would surprise me a little if it was still in existence. And it would surprise me a lot if anyone soon made use of it to put together a deluxe, collectors edition DVD of the film with other appropriate extras. Maybe we can start rattling the bars a little here for someone to at least investigate.

I appreciate that a lot of you want to share my Mel Tormé story with the readers of your blogs. But Internet Etiquette is that you link to my page, not that you copy all or most of the text and put it on your page.

Today, we have another Little Audrey cartoon. This is Goofy Goofy Gander, which was released August 18 of 1950. The cast is kind of a "Who's Who" of performers who were heard in Paramount/Famous Studios cartoons: Mae Questel (who was most famous for playing Olive Oyl and Betty Boop), Jack Mercer (the main voice of Popeye), Sid Raymond (who voiced Baby Huey) and Gwen Davies (who was one of several voices of Casper). There are also a few unidentified singers in this film, which was directed by Bill Tytla.

Mr. Tytla was a great Disney animator who went on to become a director for other studios with less distinction. For Walt D., he handled several of the dwarfs in Snow White (especially Grumpy). He did some key scenes of the title character in Dumbo and also Stromboli the Puppet Master in Pinocchio. He animated Chernobog the devil figure in Fantasia and the old magician character in that film's "Sorceror's Apprentice" sequence. And he did other key animating which today is avidly studied by students of cartoons. He was one of Disney's star artists until he joined the 1941 strike at the studio. After it was settled, he returned to work but things weren't the same and he came to believe he was being handed assignments of less and less importance and personal challenge. That, along with a desire to return to his former climate (Connecticut and New York) caused him to head east in 1943. There, he worked for Terrytoons (where he'd worked before being lured to Hollywood to work at Disney) and at Famous Studios.

He later returned to Hollywood and worked here and there, though worsening eyesight limited his options. His last major animating — and it is said he required a lot of assistance from friends — was some work on The Incredible Mr. Limpet in 1964. He passed away in '68. As you can see from this example, his films were nicely directed, though sometimes limited by weak material and weaker characters. This one, I think, is one of the better ones.

You can lose your job for posting a Dilbert comic strip in the office.