Speaking of Mr. Laurel, here’s a question I’ve only once gotten a satisfactory answer for and then I promptly forgot it. Just what kind of derby is that worn by Stan? The late Tony Hawes once said it was some sort of schoolboy hat of some sort, but I’ve never seen another one like it, except for the hundreds that Stan wore over the years. I was told by someone who worked on the Roach lot that if you went into wardrobe, they’d be lined up on a shelf, just waiting for the next one to get ruined. I’ve never seen an original one in person. Even Lois Laurel, Stan’s daughter, doesn’t have one. She has Stan’s straw boater that he used to wear off camera, but not a derby. Lucille Hardy, Oliver’s widow, supposedly had one of his derbys, although I never got to see that, either.

It’s an unusual derby because the brim is flat instead of curved. Jim MacGeorge, who I wrote about in the last item, told me he takes a regular derby and cuts part of the brim off, then sews a finishing ribbon back around the edge. Was this how Stan’s hats were made or was it an existing style that you could have bought back in the 20’s or 30’s? Anybody out there know?

Stan Laurel’s famous flat-brimmed derby. Could you buy one off the shelf?

In this item, I mentioned Jim MacGeorge as the cartoon voices of Beany and Captain Huffenpuff, but I’d be willing to bet that there are a lot of things you don’t know about Mr. MacGeorge.

He’s probably best known for his numerous appearances as Stan Laurel to Chuck McCann’s Oliver Hardy. Chuck likes to tell the story that it takes him over an hour to get into make-up to play the larger half of one of the best comedy teams of all time, while Jim looks so much like Stan in real life that all he has to do to get into character is sneeze. At this point, Jim sneezes, running his fingers through his hair to make it stand up, lowers his eyelids to half-mast and gives that familiar tight-lipped grin, and without saying a word, he becomes Mr. Laurel.

Okay, so you may have known Jim plays Stan Laurel in windshield wiper commercials and variety shows, but did you know that in the Laurel and Hardy cartoon series made by Hanna-Barbera in 1966 that Jim did the voice of Oliver Hardy, while Larry Harmon did Stan’s voice? Jim is a great voice impressionist, but most people have only ever heard him do Stan Laurel.

And here’s another little piece of trivia, Jim wrote all of the Super Chicken cartoons for Jay Ward’s 1967 George of the Jungle TV series. Yes, that’s right, not voiced, but wrote. Paul Frees was the voice of Fred and Bill Scott clucked for Henry Cabot Henhouse, III (aka Super Chicken). But Jim turned out to be as talented a writer as he was a performer.

His other lead role was as Crazy Claws in the 1981 Hanna-Barbera cartoon, The Kwicky Koala Show. Kwicky Koala was an old-style H-B show with three funny animal cartoons. It was also the last thing created by veteran director Tex Avery. Crazy Claws, pictured at right, was a bobcat that would go into a wild spin, shredding everything in his path. Jim gave him a Groucho Marx voice for his sarcastic remarks. One of his foils, Rawhide Clyde was voiced by writer Bob Ogle, who incidentally, gave me my first writing job in Hollywood. But that’s a story for another time.

Jim is still very active and does stand-up for conventions and business groups. He tells jokes and does impressions and you can even book him, if you’re looking for a great after-dinner speaker.

Hmm, this was just supposed to be a little tribute, but I think I might have just earned 10% of his next gig. What do you say, Jim? I think he might say, “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it!”

No, you’ll never get rich buying all the great DVD sets that are coming out, but I wanted to recommend one that’s worth owning that was recently released. That’s the box on the right and it’s Sgt. Bilko: The Phil Silvers Show, 50th Anniversary Edition (one year late, actually). Some histories of the show state that the original title was You’ll Never Get Rich and then it was later changed to The Phil Silvers Show, but in the “lost” audition show (description to follow), it’s already called The Phil Silvers Show and subtitled “You’ll Never Get Rich”.

My biggest regret is that it’s not a full season, but a “Best of” set. I spoke to Jeffrey Abraham, one of the people behind this box and he said the feeling is that there are just some shows that won’t sell as complete series. Still, even if in the future they decide to release season sets, I’m recommending this just for the bonus material alone.

I haven’t finished watching all of it yet, but one of the highlights is the “lost” pilot episode. It’s in pretty rough condition, but apparently only one 16mm print of it exists and it was in creator Nat Hiken’s personal collection. The script is almost identical to the newer pilot, “New Recruits”, but other differences abound. One of the most notable differences is that the first pilot was shot on video rather than film, although what now exists of it is a kinescope. For those unfamiliar, a kinescope is a film made from a video source.

The other major change was in certain cast members. Jack Warden played Cpl. Henshaw, the part that would become Allan Melvin’s for the series. Paul Ford was absent from the part of Col. Hall and there was a different Chaplain. But most of Bilko’s platoon was there from the beginning, and while Bilko calls out the familiar names in roll call, some of the actors responded to different character names, so they were obviously switched around before the other pilot was filmed. Also, oddly, many of the “new recruits”, who would not appear in another episode, reprise their roles for the second pilot.

There are many more extras, including commentaries by Allan Melvin, Dick Van Dyke and others, plus clips of the show and Phil Silvers winning Emmys.

And by the way, the shows stand-up, too. Don’t miss this one!

From reader Bill Jones (an alias if I ever heard one) come this question:

When I was a kid growing up in the 60’s, one of my favorite cartoons was Beany and Cecil the sea serpent. What can you tell me about them?

Well, there’s not much I can tell you that hasn’t already been written by Wikipedia. But I can correct a little misinformation I’ve seen on other sites and add a few things.

Daws Butler and Stan Freberg, who originated the characters on the puppet show in the early 50’s, weren’t big fans of the creator, Bob Clampett. They feel that they were mistreated by him. Bob was one of the greatest cartoon directors of all time, but his ego was too big to fit in the same room with Daws and Stan. For some reason, Clampett felt compelled to take credit for things he didn’t do, when there were plenty of accomplishments that he rightly could take credit for. Anyway, when it came time to turn Beany and Cecil into cartoons in the early 60’s, Clampett asked the boys to reprise their roles and they both turned him down. Neither one of them needed the work at the time and they preferred to not have to work for Bob again.

In the cartoons, the voices of Beany and Uncle Captain were assumed by Jim MacGeorge, while Cecil and Dishonest John were taken over by Irv Shoemaker, both of whom had filled in for Stan and Daws on the puppet show, and had actually taken over the roles when they left for good.

Daws’ wife, Myrtis, sewed the first Cecil puppet out of green terry cloth with suction cups for his nose. Some of the other characters, especially Beany, were store-bought puppets that were modified.

A lot of Disney animators free-lanced for Clampett in their off hours.

Daws actually did Cecil’s voice as well as Beany’s for some Mattel talking toys.

And that’s the saga of Beany and Cecil… until I think of more.

Two other things I wanted to mention, the first being a curious observation and the second being a mild rant.

Before the short went to color, the cels were offered to the Warner Bros. Stores art galleries (remember them?) to help offset the cost of the production. They refused them. They didn’t want them. Apparently, like comic books before them, the collector cel speculation market had dried up. There was a time when people would buy any old cel hoping that it would miraculously skyrocket in value. Of course, a few of them did, but if you didn’t know which ones they were, you might just wind up hanging that Keebler Elf on your wall and be forced to enjoy him. And thus, the short was colored on the computer and there are no cels from it. So, if you should happen upon a cel from Little Go Beep, it’s either a phony, or that’s the one that’s going to be worth a lot of money someday.

For some time now, there’s been a faction in the animation business with distinct opinions about writers. That opinion is that writers belong in animation about the same way an auto mechanic belongs in a symphony orchestra. Basically, writers who don’t draw shouldn’t be allowed to write cartoons. There are so many things wrong with this theory, but I’ll give you two reasons and then get to the point of why I brought this up: the writer is supposed to create a mental image with words. That’s the job of a writer. Then the artist can take that mental image and put it on paper. What difference does it make if the artist thought up the mental image or the writer put it in his head? It’s the same mental image.

Their argument goes on that because a writer is writing words to begin with, writer’s scripts tend to be more dialogue heavy than an artist’s storyboard would be. It depends on the writer and it depends on the artist. I’ve seen plenty of dialogue heavy cartoons made by artists with no writer involved at all and I’ve seen scripts written by writers with practically no dialogue.

Which brings me to my point: Little Go Beep was written as a script. There are about six lines of dialogue and the rest of the short is all visual gags. Spike had no trouble pulling the mental images off the paper and then enhancing them. He dropped one of my gags, added one of his own, changed the ending of another gag and added a topper onto the tail of another gag. Other than that, it’s exactly the way I wrote it. And by the way, that’s what I call a collaboration. Spike took what I wrote and made it even better without having to make wholesale slash and burn changes, like so often happens. Thank you again, Spike, for sharing my vision.

So, the next time someone tries to tell you that writers shouldn’t write cartoons, tell them to go look at Little Go Beep… oh, wait… you still can’t see it anywhere. Well, tell them to hire me and I’ll make sure they get a funny, visual cartoon. I know how to do it. I’ve seen it!

We’re coming around the final turn, heading for home…

Sound effects and the final mix, wherein I learn a few things.

Mix day was a very long day, surprising since it was just one short we were doing. But cartoons have a lot of elements, and this being intended as a theatrical, people were being pickier than they might have been on a TV episode.

The first thing I learned is that sound effects are sometimes layered to create just the right sound. In other words, several effects are played at the same time. For instance, in one scene, we had a boxing glove punch. In order to give the sound some “punch”, three effects were played together. Spike thought this actually sounded too painful and they wound up dialing one of the effects out to soften it a bit.

In another section, the music track had tremolo strings playing ominously. Spike felt, and I agreed on this one, that it was telegraphing the gag to come. Unfortunately, because of the music pre-mix, we could no longer dial out specific instruments. We wound up bringing the music track way down at that point, so it’s just barely audible and doesn’t give quite the foreboding sense it did originally.

Another fun thing was watching them pan stereo effects. There’s a scene where the Coyote and Road Runner are zipping all over the screen and the audio mixers had the sound effects follow them. When you hear it properly, it makes it seem like they’re zooming all around you.

And then the film was done.

It was run at the AMC in Century City for a week to qualify for Academy consideration. That’s a picture of me at left with the one-sheet that was created for it. Even that short run foreshadowed what was to become of the film. The first time I went to see it there, the film didn’t arrive in time. I went back a second time and saw it, running before Best In Show. I went back a third time with a friend and the show went right from trailers into the movie. I had to call Warner Bros. to call the theater and get them to put the short back in. It’s supposed to run for a full week to qualify for the Oscars, which, by the way, we got into the top ten shorts that year, but didn’t make it into the top five to get nominated.

I want to take this opportunity to publically thank Spike for all his hard work on this short and especially for keeping me included in the various steps. The writer is often overlooked after he turns in his script, even in live-action. Some writers not only don’t get invited to the set, they don’t get invited to the cast party. The Writers Guild has had to include some of these points in their negotiations. So, thanks Spike for the opportunity. I wouldn’t have missed a minute of it for the world.

And now, for the question of why it’s never been released. You’ve all heard and read for years how the theater owners don’t want longer shows so they can have more screenings of the feature. So, the only way a short can make it on the bill is if it’s tied to the front of the movie, like Pixar has done on several of their films. This was one problem. But the simplest answer is that during the length of the production, Bob Daley and Terry Semel, the CEO’s that were behind the project, left Warner Bros. It’s well known in this town that the new guys want to come in with their own slate of projects and not pick up the pieces of the dearly departed. I think it just got lost in the executive shuffle. It’s unfortunate that it never got released because they spent the extra money to finish it on film and it looked gorgeous in 35mm on the big screen. There are two versions, a widescreen and a full screen, but the widescreen literally just has the top and the bottom masked because modern theaters can’t, or won’t, show films in the 1:33 aspect ratio.

I was very careful with the pictures I put up and the descriptions I used not to give any of the gags away, so if this is ever released on DVD, and I’ve been pushing for a release, you’ll be able to view it with fresh eyes. Then I’ll be able to go back and change the title of this series to:

The Best Looney Tune You’ve Recently Seen For The First Time

All was fine in cartoonland until one day, a big, bad executive decided that they didn’t like Stan Freberg’s voice for the Papa Coyote. Now, let me start by saying that I wouldn’t tell this story if I thought it put Stan in a bad light. In fact, I’m going to prove just the opposite. And second, I don’t remember who it was that wanted the voice changed and even if I did, I wouldn’t say.

This late into the production they actually held auditions and cast Dee Bradley Baker as the new voice. Dee is a fine actor and works all the time, but here’s what happened.

There are two actors that would always give you a funny line-reading that you weren’t expecting. One of them was Daws Butler and the other was his sometimes partner, Stan Freberg.

Daws Butler and Stan Freberg behind the scenes of the puppet show “Time For Beany” circa 1950. Daws is operating Captain Huffenpuff and Beany, while Stan has Cecil and Dishonest John.

This was one of the things that Daws taught in his acting workshop. He would say, “Don’t be cosmetic.” What he meant by a cosmetic reading was the way 98% of the people who would go in to read for something would read it. Daws would suggest a different reading, like emphasizing the pronoun rather than the verb. Since Stan and Daws worked together so closely in those early days of television, their acting styles grew out of each other. And I think Stan would even say that he learned to act by watching Daws.

So, they brought Dee Baker in to record a new track. By this time, the animation was finished and in color, so the lip-synch couldn’t be changed. What this meant was that in order to stay in synch, Dee had to copy Stan’s quirky and funny line-readings. They ended up with a track that was identical to Stan’s, just with a different voice. We convinced the powers that be that the original was far superior and it stayed in the picture.

Once again, this is not a slam at Dee Baker. He was put in a very awkward position. But I don’t need to stand up for him. He’s one of a handful of really successful voice people in this town. I want to explain why I feel that Stan comes out looking good in this. I think it wasn’t Stan’s voice that the executive objected to, but the quirky readings. The executive was looking for the “cosmetic” reading. Except, the non-cosmetic reading is what makes the performance stand out. I’ve seen producers argue with Daws over line readings, when clearly what Daws did was much funnier. When you had a creative director like Joe Barbera, he would let Daws go wild. That’s why those early H-B cartoons are so funny. And that’s why Stan and Daws still rank as two of the best voice people to ever grace a Hollywood cartoon.

Stan Freberg, Daws Butler and Friends, circa 1980

Tomorrow, the end of the story… I think.

Whew! Long story, isn’t it?

The animation, as well as all other aspects of the production, were all done in this country, the U.S. of A., with most of it being handled in house at Warner Bros. Classics and the rest being handed out free-lance.

The musical score was composed and conducted by the brilliant Richard Stone, pictured at right, who sadly left us way too soon. This was one of the last projects Richard worked on, and coincidentally, his first animation score was for a Tiny Toon Adventures half-hour that included a cartoon I wrote, Turtle Hurdle. I knew there was something special about that first score. For my money, Richard came closer to the Carl Stalling sound than anyone, even Milt Franklyn.

The music was recorded on the main lot on the Warner Bros. scoring stage, the same stage used to record the original cartoons, although it has been completely refurbished on the inside for modern technologies. I was told the piano on that stage is the same one that Carl Stalling used. Normally, for Animaniacs or Pinky and the Brain they would have 25 - 27 players, depending on whether or not they needed specialty musicians. Because this was intended as a theatrical, we had a 42 piece orchestra! I sat in the studio during the session so I could hear them play live and not through the monitors. It was glorious! What a thrilling day that was. When they struck up the theme song, Merrily We Roll Along, starting with the famous Warner Bros. guitar slide, it was magical. I know I’m gushing here, but I have so much admiration for what the musicians do and how much they add to the final product. To me, a great music score is what makes the cartoons watchable over and over again, while a bad score can make a cartoon almost unwatchable.

After the musicians were dismissed, they did a pre-mix on the music, so when a final mix was done, no one could fiddle around with the way Richard wanted it to sound. As they were playing Cue 1, the theme song, a thought suddenly struck me and I asked, “Does it matter that this is a Looney Tune and they’re playing Merrily We Roll Along, the Merrie Melodies theme?” Kathleen said it didn’t make any difference. I know why they did it. Richard had told me a long time ago that Warners only owns three songs outright that they can use without paying royalties. One is Merrily We Roll Along, the second is We’re In the Money and I forget the third, but it definitely isn’t The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down, which is the Looney Tunes theme. Being a purist, I would have just called this a Merrie Melody, but in the end, I guess it doesn’t really make any difference.

The other odd thing in that cue was a wood block, which I never remembered hearing on the cartoons. I actually had the audacity to ask Richard if that wood block was supposed to be in there. He just kind of glared at me and said, “Yes.” It wouldn’t be until much later that I’d find out that was a late 50’s arrangement used on cartoons that I had only seen on the Bugs Bunny Show with their credit sequences chopped off.

Tomorrow, the final mix… but wait… there’s trouble ahead!

When last we left our story, our heroes were down. The plug had been pulled on their Baby Looney Tunes direct-to-video. So, what happened?

Spike Brandt, who was to direct the Baby Road Runner and Coyote segment, loved the material so much, that in his own time, at his own expense, he had a scratch voice track recorded (a scratch track is a temporary track that will be replaced later) and he made an animatic (an animatic is basically a storyboard shot on film, timed to the soundtrack, or visual gags). But this was no ordinary animatic. Spike had posed out the entire film so it practically looked like it was animated and he came up with the title Little Go Beep, which I think is very clever. He called a meeting with myself, Kathleen Helppie and Jean MacCurdy, who was then President of Warner Bros. Animation and showed it to us. I was blown away. He even had sound effects added. Jean and Kathy were also duly impressed and decided to take it to the next level.

Spike worked out a budget and we met with none other than Bob Daley, who along with Terry Semel, were the co-CEO’s of Warner Bros. We ran the tape for him. He laughed. He asked how much it would cost. Spike told him. He asked if there was any way to lower that figure, which, I assume, is something you have to say if you’re a big executive. Kind of like not buying a car at the first price they offer you. Spike also pitched the idea of doing this as a 50th anniversary of the Road Runner and Coyote. After some wrangling back and forth, the project was eventually green-lit. I won’t tell you what the final budget was, but I will say that for this eight minute short, it was more than what we usually spent on a half-hour of Pinky and the Brain.

Next up was casting the voice of Cage E. Coyote, Wile E. Coyote’s dad. Incidentally, his name in the script was originally Craft E. Coyote, but, believe it or not, that name didn’t clear legal. Someone else was actually using that. I came up with a whole list of “E” names, like Shift E. Coyote, Trick E. Coyote and Can E. Coyote. The one they liked that also cleared legal was Cage E. Coyote.

When I told my friend Rick Greene what we were doing, he immediately said a name that I thought was perfect for the role - Stan Freberg. Not only was he a vintage Warner Bros. voice actor (he was sometimes Junior Bear, Hubie and/or Bertie, one of the Goofy Gophers and everybody’s favorite, although he only appeared in one cartoon, Pete Puma), but he played “pompous” and “self-righteous” better than anyone. Spike liked the idea and Stan became our Cage E. Coyote.

The recording session was very difficult for Stan because the person that recorded the scratch track had talked very fast and Spike already had the cartoon timed out to the second, so Stan had very little room to act and put his personal touch on it. Still, he was a trouper and we got a fine performance out of him.

Tomorrow: Animation, music, sound effects, mixing… so much left to do!

Yesterday, I began the tale of Little Go Beep, the theatrical Looney Tune I wrote. Yes, it was meant to be shown in theaters, but it didn’t start out that way.

Kathleen Helppie, who was the head of the Warner Bros. Classic Animation division had wanted to do a Baby Looney Tunes project for some time. She had put together a pitch for a series of educational videos, but they never got off the ground.

Finally, Warner Bros. Consumer Products, who was eager to promote the Baby Looney licensees, agreed to do a project. What we decided on was very different than the educational videos Kathleen had originally wanted to do. This was going to be a single feature-length direct-to-video, made up of classically styled brand-new Baby Looney shorts, with the adult characters, also in new animation, providing the wraparounds. These were to be Baby Looney Tunes done with slaptick and humor in the Looney Tunes tradition.

I began writing. Three directors, Spike Brandt, Gary Hartle and Kirk Tingblad, were lined up, to each takes sections of the videos. Since they were shorts, each director would be able to do complete shorts on their own. I had finished writing the Baby Road Runner and Coyote, and a Baby Bugs with Yosemite Sam and was halfway through a Baby Tweety and Sylvester (we were going to have Granny as a younger girl), when the plug got pulled. Consumer Products didn’t want to foot the cost of the project and Kathleen couldn’t raise the money anywhere else. It seemed like that was the end.

Tomorrow, how a full-length video ended up as a theatrical short. Stay tuned and stay Looney!