The 1939-40 season was again very good for MGM. The features were riding high, off the successes of “The Wizard of Oz” and “Gone With the Wind”. Robert Donat would score a best actor Oscar for “Goodbye, Mr. Chips.” Meanwhile, the cartoons were finding their own distinctive style, with Hugh Harman, Rudy Ising, and Bill Hanna developing a style that was distinctive and yet up to date. The cartoons were starting to retreat from the ooey-gooey style of the early Happy Harmonies. And at times, they could come right out of left field with an unexpected classic such as Peace on Earth. With Joe Barbera also coming into the field, MGM’s animation division was looking forward to a bright future.
One Mother’s Family (9/30/39) – Mother hen is taking her newly-hatched offspring out for a walk. The farmer warns her to watch out for the hawk. The baby rooster of the brood keeps lagging behind and getting distracted, frequently separated from the pack, until the shadow of the hawk looms above. Baby takes refuge in a hollow tree, which is also the residence of a skunk. The hawk swoops inside, and after an unseen battle within, an explosion jets the hawk out of the tree trunk. The skunk has performed its natural function, and baby, though safe, reeks so bad, even Mama can’t stand it. Mama and the rest of the brood head for home sweet home as the day ends, trying to stay one jump ahead of the aromatic junior tagging along. Songs: “William Tell Overture: The Calm”; “The Last Rose of Summer”, recorded by Jules Levy as a cornet solo on Victor Monarch, Helene Noldi on early Victor, Caroline Kendrick on black and silver Columbia Amelita Galli Curci on red seal Victor, Marie Rappold on Edison Diamond Disc, Vivian Holt on Emerson, and in later years by Deanna Durbin on Decca, Olimpia Boronat on HMV, and Bidu Sayou (a Brazilian soprano) on V-Disc. An atmospheric light-classic, “In a Persian Market”, also appears. Albert W. Ketelbey’s Concert Orchestra issued an acoustic version on Brutish Columbia, followed by another version on the same label by the Court Symphony Orchestra. The International Concert Orchestra (directed by Nat Shilkret) issued a 12′ version on Victor black seal in 1927. The Comedian Harmonists vocalized it for HMV. A versions by Frank Westerfield and the Grand Symphony Orchestra appeared on British Parlophone. Paul Godwyn’s Orchestra issued a German Polydor. The Boston Pops issued a red seal Victor in 1936. The Columbia Salon Orchestra issued a version in or about 1939, while a pop music arrangement was issued by Larry Clinton on Victor (below). A 40’s version was issued by Reginald Foort on pipe organ on HMV. 50’s versions included a swing arrangement by Ralph Marterie on Mercury, and Sammy Davis Jr. as a vocal on Decca.
Home On the Range (2/23/40) – A cartoon that aspires to be a chase cartoon and a mood piece at the same time. A timid calf is spooked by a shadow that keeps blocking out the moonlight. The shadow turns out to be that of a hare, who leaps around a good deal (with cowbells on the soundtrack, suggesting the sounds of Spike Jones). The calf follows, but soon is pursued himself by a hungry coyote. Various animals of the prairie group together to forestall the coyote’s attack, until Mama cow shows up, her horns ready for a tussle. The coyote develops a yellow streak, and heads for the badlands, as Mama escorts the calf home, with the hare clasping his ears together in a final wave of victory to his new friend. Songs: A revisit with “The Donkey Serenade”, and ”Home on the Range” (reputedly FDR’s favorite song), recorded at least twice by Bing Crosby, for both Brunswick and Decca. Gene Autry performed in on Columbia, and Roy Rogers on RCA Victor. Hank Keene (a New York radio cowboy) got a 1933 version on Bluebird. Will Osborne on Melotone, Perfect, et al., Guy Lombardo on Decca, Don Bestor on Victor, John Charles Thomas on Victor red seal. Jim Davidson (an Australian dance band) performed it on Regal Zonophone. A parody version by Mickey Katz appeared on RCA Victor. Frank Luther issued a Decca kiddie version, and Alvin and the Chipmunks on Liberty.
The Fishing Bear (1/20/40) – Barney Bear is ready for a peaceful (and bountiful) day of trout fishing, armed with rod and reel, net, and a box of super-bait – Trouties (spoof on Wheaties, even down to a box-top offer on the back to become a Junior G-Trout). The fish can’t get enough of the bait, and gather in a drove. But the drove is soon driven, by the entrance of a mischievous mallard duck, who thinks he’s a dog, and takes to retrieving Barney’s fising lure. Eventually, the duck starts to figure out Barney’s true objective in casting his line, and transforms to pointer to indicate where the fish is hiding. Unfortunately, the underwater grotto in which the fish is concealed is also the home of an electric eel, who sends shocking jolts not only into Barney, but blasts the feathers off the duck as well, leaving both in a crater underwater for the finale. Song: “By the Waters of Minnetonka”, an art song recoded by Frances Alda in 1914 on Victor red seal. It was followed by a black seal Victor from 1917 by Princess Watawahso, an electrical by Ernestine Schumann-Heink on red seal Victor, treated as a fox trot by Paul Whiteman in an acoustic Victor in 1924 and remade electrically in 1928, Mel Craig’s Orchestra on Edison Damond Disc, Sam Wooding’s Orchestra on German Vox in 1925, Glenn Miller on Bluebird (below), Ray Noble’s American orchestra for Brunswick, a Ken Griffin organ rendition on Rondo, and Jerry Gray in a swing version on 50’s Decca.
A Rainy Day (4/20/40) – Mama Bear of the bear family notices that there’s still a hole in the roof through which sunshine is pouring. Papa is snug in a hammock, and insists it’s not going to rain today, until a flash of lightning says otherwise. Grumbling, he is forced to address the problem, first by demonstrating how easy it is to plug the hole with his finger, then pulling out a foot in diameter of shingles when his finger gets stuck. Son Wilbur is sent to the well to get a dipper of water for Papa, while Papa Bear endures more than he can handle, charged with electricity by a lightning strike, then sent awash in a tidal wave of shingles as the winds lift the roof from its moorings. Before long, Papa is back inside the bedroom, under six feet of water, and in no need of Wilbur’s water pail, as he gives up on the whole thing and snuggles down under the covers, still submerged. (Who knew they had bears in Atlantis?) Song: “Pitter Patter Pitter Patter (Listen to the Rain)”, an original sing-song for Mama Bear, which drives Papa to distraction.
Swing Social (5/18/40) – A couple of black people meet on a Sunday morning, one of them being the local deacon. The other prefers to go fishing rather than attend church services. He tells the deacon he is going to catch a black bass. The deacon informs him, however, that the black bass don’t bite on Sunday, as they are busy attending a social. We then pan down to the riverbed, where the social is getting underway. We hear a song with spiritual aspirations, then another about food (which is the best part of any social). The event continues with spirited animation, including a vocal by the Rhythmettes doing their best impression of the Boswell Sisters. One of the older members of the clan brings up a more primal form of spirit and rhythm – the old voodoo. Songs: three originals: “Shout Hallelujah, Brother”, “Plain Fried Chicken”, and “Voodoo Do”, and one oldie, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”. The Fisk University Jubilee Quartet issued a Victor version in 1909. Victor followed it up with the Tuskeegee Institute Singers in 1916. Jim Europe’s Four Harmony Kings performed a version which appeared on Pathe and Perfect, circa 1919. Dame Nellie Melba recorded an electrical Victrola release, one of her last recordings. Bing Crosby issued a vocal on Decca. Glen Gray also recorded it for Decca. Fats Waller gave it the stride treatment for Victor. Roland Hayes (a black tenor) recorded it for British Vocalion, also imported here. Paul Robeson performed it on HMV. The Charioteers would of course record one on Brunswick. Tex Beneke and the Miller Band performed a post-war version for RCA Victor. A vocal group known as Wings Over Jordan, who did radio work, performed it on King records’ “Queen” label – their subsidiary for black performers, circa the late 1940’s. Archie Lewis and the Geraldo Strings would do it for British Parlopjone. Peggy Lee revived it on Capitol with the Benny Goodman Sextet. Dizzy Gillespie did his own modification with “Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac” on Dizzy’s own “Dee Gee” label.
Tom Turkey and His Harmonica Humdingers (6/8/40) – A bit of small-town Americana condensed into an eight-minute cartoon. Tom Turkey is a local self-described “life of every party”, and presides by his sheer presence over the general store with his harmonica playing, rousing three of the other locals to pull out their “mouth organs” and join in four-part close harmony. An additional old-timer in civil war garb tries to join in with piccolo playing. Eventually, the window shade is pulled down on the store to cover the general demolishing of the merchandise, and the silhouette of Tom is seen through the window, dancing with a female store dummy. This sets the local town gossip to chattering to all the wives of the community, who come to the store armed with their rolling pins, breaking up the evening’s festivities, except for Tom, who leaves the store unharmed, with the dummy on his arm. Songs: “Turkey in the Straw”. “The Battle Cry of Freedom”, “Business In F” “Runnin’ Wild”, “A Fountain in the Park”, “Sextet From Lucia”, and “The Darktown Strutters’ Ball”, a 1917 piece which became an evergreen for Jazz musicians. Early recordings included The Original Dixieland Jazz Band on Columbia, Collins and Harlan on Columbia, the Six Brown Brothers (a saxophone sextet) on Victor, Arthur Fields for Pathe, Jim Europe’s Hellfighters Band for Pathe, and Eugene Jaudas’s Society Orchestra on Edison disc and cylinder. Electrical recordings included Coon-Sanders and Paul Whiteman on Victor, Miff Mole and his Little Molers on Okeh, and Ted Lewis on Columbia. The Boswell Sisters harmonized it for Brunswick. Phil Harris had a version in the 1930’s for Vocalion (below). Harry Roy recorded it for British Decca. Luis Russell on Melotone, Perfect, et al. Sid Phillips performed it on HMV. Louis Prima (label unknown) in the late 40’s or 50’s. Charlie Barnet had a 40’s Apollo side. Benny Goodman had a ‘50‘s version on Columbia. Ella Fitzgerald sang it on Decca. Ray Anthony revived it for Capitol. Russ Morgan performed it for Decca. Lou Monte revived it on RCA Victor in an Italian demeanor. Larry Clinton and Sylvia Sims got a late recording on Bell.
The Milky Way (7/22./40) – A tangential spin-off from the nursery rhyme about the three little kittens who lost their mittens. One of the kittens looks up into the night sky, and thinks about how much milk there must be in the Milky Way. They decide to travel up to it, via a basket and three balloons. They find that things are a little more frenetic and dangerous than they’re used to. They also find themselves eating their way into cases of severe tummy aches – especially when one kitten sips from an erupting milk geyser. They wind up handing onto the end of the milk world, with the still erupting milk in the kitten’s tummy about to shake them over the edge, when the voice of Mama cat awakens them from their dream, calling them to a late dinner. They run downstairs, to find that their supper is – milk – and faint dead away. Song: an original “Three Little Kittens” song, sung by the Rhythmettes, which takes care of the plot exposition. This would be the first cartoon to steal away the annual Academy Award typically reserved for Walt Disney.
Romeo in Rhythm (8/10/40) – The “Black Crow Light Opera Company” is presenting their musical version of Romeo and Juliet, on a stage built inside the chest of a scarecrow. This affords great opportunity for swing numbers. No specific black entertainers are parodied, although there is a cameo by way of mask for a white entertainer – Spencer Tracy, parodied from “Stanley and Livingstone”. Romance breaks up abruptly, however, as Juliet has to go to work at O-dawn-hundred hour, leaving Romeo hanging from the balcony, to complain about parting being such sweet sorrow. Songs: “You Were Meant For Me”, a 1929 song first introduced in MGM’s “The Broadway Melody”, Victor had a dance version by Nat Shilkret and the Victor Orchestra, and a vocal version by Charles King. Brunswick had a dance version by Earl Burtnett and his Los Angeles Biltmore Hotel Orchestra. Columbia gave it to Ben Selvin (embed below). Later recordings included Helen Forest on MGM, Gordon Macrae on Capitol, Rosemary Clooney for Columbia, and Gene Kelly in a notable soundtrack revival featured in the MGM nostalgia classic, “Singin’ In the Rain”. “We’re Off To See the Wizard”, from “The Wizard of Oz”, was featured on a Decca album set devoted to the film by Victor Young and chorus, and one recording independent of an album set appeared by Jim Davidson and his ABC Dance Orchestra (referring to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation), perhaps the best swing band from down under, on Regal Zonophone. Also, a featured original number “You’ve Got To Be Alone To Woo.” Revisits also appear for “The Darktown Strutters’ Ball” and “I’m an Old Cowhand” (previously discussed at length in prior article series on Warner cartoons).
NEXT TIME: More 1940, and into 1941.
Another great lineup of cartoons that we rarely see these days! Interesting to note that there is so much acted out in pantomime in “Tom Turkey and his harmonica Humdingers“. Even more interesting still that the whole music score, save for the opening of the cartoon, is created by harmonicas! Any idea who the team of harmonica actually is? I know there were such musical ensembles years ago, as noted in the rare MGM musical videos that were released by the WarnerArchive a number of years ago around the same.
I would imagine the expense of creating these wonderful cartoons had grown out of control with bits of beautiful animation like the near closing catastrophe on “a rainy day“. Also nice to see so many little production numbers that are exclusive to these cartoons, yet another example of why a feature film needed to be made with all this talent at the MGM animation Studios at this point!
Still a big expense? Is this why this never happened? Certainly the animators were used in years hence in the future films for the occasional production number featuring live action and animation combined, but why not an animated feature film? it certainly would have given the Walt Disney company some major competition here!
This is the first I’ve ever heard about “Home on the Range” being FDR’s favourite song, but I’m not surprised. Most U.S. presidents have had little appreciation for good music. (Ulysses S. Grant once remarked that he only knew two songs: one of them was “Yankee Doodle”, and the other one wasn’t.) The song always makes me think of Kurt Vonnegut’s novel “Cat’s Cradle”, in which the national anthem of the fictional Caribbean republic of San Lorenzo is sung to the tune of “Home on the Range”.
“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” is traditionally sung by supporters of the English national Rugby Union team at their matches. I have no idea why.
The harmonica soundtrack to “Tom Turkey and His Harmonica Humdingers” is provided by Borrah Minevitch and the Harmonica Rascals, whose previous cartoon appearance was in the 1934 Fleischer Screen Song “Lazy Bones”. The cartoon incorporates a lot of the Rascals’ shtick, including everyone wearing hats, comic glissandos on the chromatic harmonica, and disparate melodies played together in counterpoint (here, the Sextet from “Lucia di Lammermoor” with “Dixie”). There’s even a little guy (Johnny Puleo in the band, later the leader of his own ensemble, the Harmonica Gang) who knocks the bigger guys around. It’s a little surprising that Minevitch and the Rascals are uncredited, but then the MGM cartoons of this period seldom credit anyone at all.
At this time the Harmonica Rascals’ arrangements were scored by Richard Hayman, who was not quite twenty years old when “Tom Turkey” was released. Shortly thereafter he became a staff arranger for MGM, doing orchestrations for musicals like “Girl Crazy” and “Meet Me in St. Louis”, so this cartoon no doubt helped to open that particular door for him. Hayman later became the in-house arranger for the Boston Pops for thirty years under the directorship of Arthur Fiedler. He was, hands down, no contest, the greatest ever arranger of popular music for symphony orchestra, and a distinguished conductor and recording artist in his own right. But he started out as a Harmonica Rascal!
One thought as to why no feature film might be, not enough manpower. During this period, MGM was turning out a mere 14 cartoons per year (the next season would yield only 13). This was parallel to Disney at the time, but Disney had been steadily training and recruiting his artists in preparation for creating an elite group capable of feature production, while the MGM units, still regrouping from the Captain and the Kids debacle, would have been comparatively unprepared to form such a staff.
It would seem that all of MGM’s best talent was already needed to keep up the quality of the shorts – so who would have been available to shift to feature production? Had their chief artists been taken away from the shorts, we might have seen a drop-off in such films’ quality parallel to such Fleischer productions as the Stone Age Cartoons and Animated Antics – exactly what the executives were reacting against in dropping the Captain and the Kids and Count Screwloose. And with no sustaining character like Popeye to keep the distributors pleased, and only 14 films available per season compared to Fleischer’s output of over double such amount, reducing the shorts to such a low quality level would have seemed a disastrous move. Only a mass recruiting of new talent could have supported feature production and maintained the shorts as well.
But who would have been available? Disney and Fleischer had already snatched most of the qualified talent away. Frank Tashlin might have been intercepted before moving to Columbia, but would one such innovator be enough? Friz Freleng was already at MGM, but may not have been happy, given his upcoming decision to return to Warner Brothers. Lantz’s meager staff had already balked at conceptualizing a feature, so probably would have been hesitant to shift to the Lion for such purpose, or simply unqualified to do so (except maybe for Burt Gillett, who was daring but already approaching a nervous breakdown). Chuck Jones? Maybe – at least he could draw Disney-esque. Bob Clampett? He aspired to bigger things like the John Carter project, but was as yet untested in higher-end production, not even yet versed in producing cartoons in color. Avery never seems to have shown any affinity towards longer stories, his forte being the quick gag.
At any rate, it would have taken considerable planning, studio-raiding, and luck to materialize a feature staff on such short notice, and not destroy the trademark class that the MGM shorts were just cultivating to perfection.
Fantasizing further, if MGM had absolutely felt it necessary to produce an animated feature film, one might contemplate the possibility that, given their probable manpower shortage, and their usual desire to keep tight control on feature productions, they might have chosen to place the project in the hands of a nominal supervising director without animation experience to control story development and presentation, while leaving the nuts and bolts of drawing to Rudy, Hugh, and company. Imagine if such a project had been helmed by the likes of Victor Fleming (“The Wizard of Oz”), or Vincente Minnelli (“Cabin In the Sky”), both of whom showed marked flair in directing fantasy, Whatever the tale chosen for adaptation to the screen, the result might really have been something.
Actually, “Wizard of Oz” was not a hit. Most of its original critics hated it, dismissing it as having no imagination, subtlety, or taste, unfavorably comparing it to “Snow White.” It didn’t make its money back and become a beloved classic until after the ritual annual TV screenings began. But of course it’s fun to speculate how it would have turned out as an animated feature. Unfortunately, Louis B. Mayer, like all studio moguls of the time, looked down on animation. You probably know his remarks about the medium: given the chance to produce Disney cartoons, he said a mouse projected on a big screen would cause pregnant women to go into premature labor; re “Snow White”: “Who’s going to pay to see a drawing of a fairy tale princess when for the same money they can look at Joan Crawford’s boobs?”
As for MGM’s short cartoons of the time, while still overdone, they’re beginning to show hints of the Tom and Jerry-era humor–possibly because of the burgeoning influence of Mssrs. Hanna and Barbera? And Tex Avery still at Warner Bros. (as was Mel Blanc, but not exclusively, as the voices in “Tom Turkey” demonstrate) but not for much longer.