SPIN SPECIAL: Frankenstein Jr. and The Eisenbergs

Like his literary namesake (minus the melancholy), the gentle-natured yet overwhelmingly powerful Frankenstein Jr. may not get enough love to suit some of us. Sure, his name came first on the title of Frankenstein Jr. and The Impossibles, and his cartoon segments were (and are) enjoyed by fans worldwide. But even a giant mechanical robot who continuously saved the world can be overshadowed by three more flashy and funny heroes who sang in a pop band when they weren’t saving the world and got to be in two cartoons per show rather than just one.

With the greatest respect to The Impossibles, that is another story for another article. What follows is a deeper dive into the world of Buzz Conroy and his faithful super powered robotic marvel. The duo appeared in 18 episodes chock full of unabashed villainy, outlandish gadgetry, convoluted logic; with so many gags and gimmicks packed into each adventure, each six-and-a-half-minute cartoon is a mini-wonder when you examine it.

Frankenstein Jr. and The Impossibles premiered on Saturday morning, September 10, 1966, followed by another of Hanna-Barbera’s first ventures into superhero adventure, the megahit Space Ghost and Dino Boy. Both half-hour series were major turning points for the studio and for children’s TV, as they caught on quickly and inspired subsequent shows.

These programs were early jewels in the crown during the ascent of TV programming whiz Fred Silverman, who went on to enjoy years of primetime success with some of the biggest shows on CBS and ABC (though not so much at NBC). Back in the mid-sixties, the rise of the superhero craze was not lost on Silverman.

“We would have long brainstorming sessions,” recalled legendary Hanna-Barbera artist Alex Toth to Ted Sennett in The Art of Hanna-Barbera. “With someone like Fred Silverman, who knew exactly what he wanted, there would be lively, round-the-table discussions, with everyone taking part. Joe Barbera and I would be doodling while Bill Hanna and Silverman were talking, thrashing out what a new character ought to look like. Very often it was that kind of mutual input.”

It wasn’t always a problem to Hanna and Barbera if an idea had its roots in some other media. They freely admitted that The Flintstones was a stone-age ancestor of The Honeymooners (which itself was subject to a lawsuit settled in favor of The Bickersons creator Philip Rapp). Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was a book in the public domain and free of copyright issues, so anyone could build a concept around it.

In the original novel, Dr. Frankenstein wishes to reanimate living tissue and bring a being to life. One of the early concepts for the Hanna-Barbera version was a comical approach called Frankenstein and Uggle Dubbly (wordplay on “double ugly”). It took place in a gloomy mansion and may have been conceived in the wake of such sitcoms as The Munsters and The Addams Family. (ABC had broadcast something along those lines a year earlier with Hal Seegar Productions’ Milton the Monster. Monsters were in that year, but now it was superheroes.) Making the Frankenstein creature into a superhero added just the touch to mesh perfectly with The Impossibles concept, and with other shows that premiered the same year.

Three years earlier, the Japanese anime called Gigantor was syndicated, featuring a young boy and his giant mechanical robot. There was also a live-action Japanese series called Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot that aired in the U.S. a year later. The first Saturday morning series from Rankin/Bass Productions, The King Kong Show — which premiered on ABC the same day and time as CBS’ Frankenstein Jr. — could be considered a related concept (a boy and his giant crime fighting monster). Whether any of these influenced the creation of Frankenstein Jr isn’t the issue. The idea of a little boy having a ginormous protector is simply great fodder for animation and fantasy. It isn’t going away anytime soon, as The Iron Giant proved 33 years later.

“When I saw the Iron Giant, he reminded me of our Frankenstein, Jr. a bit,” said Jerry Eisenberg, veteran Hanna-Barbera artist whose work includes layouts for Frankenstein, Jr. and The Impossibles, as well as The Huckleberry Hound Show, The Flintstones and The Jetsons. He was also a character designer for Wacky Races and Super Friends and co-creator of The Peter Potamus Show. His father, Harvey Eisenberg (1911-1965), was a master animator and comic book artist whose work with Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera goes back to the Tom and Jerry days.

The final concept for Frankenstein Jr. became a series of crime-fighting adventures in which a young genius named Buzz Conroy (voiced by Dick Beals) activates his giant mechanical marvel, Frankenstein, Jr. (Ted Cassidy) to save the day. Buzz lived in a scientific laboratory with his father, Professor Conroy (John Stephenson), who had helped him assemble the robot, which is outfitted with an infinite number of James Bond-like gadgets to help defeat a never-ending parade of master criminals bent on world domination and/or obscene wealth.

For Eisenberg and fellow Hanna-Barbera artists like Iwao Takamoto, their role in the development of a new cartoon could start by being summoned to Joe Barbera’s office (in the 3400 Cahuenga Blvd. building that still stands in Hollywood) or by a simple, casual visit.

“Joe Barbera used to come down to the cubicles where Iwao and I were working,” Eisenberg recalled about the Frankenstein Jr. creative process. “I remember Iwao and I doing a presentation storyboard to present to the networks. I don’t recall that we did any ‘setups’— [in some cases] we’d do large pieces of art and mount them on boards—I just remember that Iwao liked me to rough out the storyboard and he’d do all the cleanups and add stuff to it and everything. It was a good way we had of working.”

Once Barbera signed off on the boards, he would pitch them to executives either in the Los Angeles area or New York. A master salesman, Barbera could come up with new ideas the instant an executive raised a question or made a suggestion. Eventually, between the network and the sponsors, the number of episodes would be ordered, and the studio would start producing the shows.

Despite the obvious tonal contrasts, Eisenberg did not feel there was much difference in creating layouts for adventure or comedy cartoons. “When I used to do storyboards for Mightor, that was a realistic looking show, so to speak. When we worked on Jonny Quest, we had to draw in a straighter style. My specialty’s always been working in a silly, cartoony style but I like working in a straightforward style too, just for variety. But those characters were pretty much cartoony, in a way.”

Although no one involved with the show would have known it at the time, the tone of Frankenstein Jr. was not unlike the iconic Batman primetime series that exploded the same season on ABC. Intending to look and sound like a comic book, it had the effect of a tongue-in-cheek comedy that also played as adventure to kids (though most kids were savvy enough to get the joke, as well). The Impossibles was also campy, but it was completely over the top and played for fun, from Paul Frees’ narration to the peppy songs. Frankenstein Jr. was always played totally serious, (despite the puns) as if the world really was at risk. Thus, it became an even higher form of camp, made possible by the perfect casting of its leads, Dick Beals and Ted Cassidy.

Dick Beals may have reached the height of 4’6” as an adult, but his motto—and his autobiography—was “Think Big.” His career touched generations throughout the second half of the 20th century, from golden age radio to animation for almost every studio, playing countless children as well as Gumby and “Speedy Alka-Seltzer.” For most of his performances, he conveyed a sense of gravitas, a grim determination. While he certainly was adept at comedy and even did off-screen singing for child actors, there was a general seriousness to his voice that made Buzz Conroy the perfect fit for him.

Ted Cassidy is a pop culture icon of the baby boomer era as the original “Lurch,” the towering, ghoulish butler of The Addams Family. Lurch was a link, of sorts, to the home viewers, as his groans of stress or frustration acted as a connection to them. Like practically every famous person in the mid-sixties, he recorded a groovy dance single called “The Lurch.” Ted Cassidy’s career as a voice artist and character actor rarely wavered despite the short life of the Addams series, and he was a frequent villain voice for Hanna-Barbera. “Frankie’s” friendly heroics were a welcome change for Cassidy, who came across as warm and genial off screen. In a way, “Frankie” was a little more of a cut-up than Buzz.

John Stephenson, who probably did more supporting voices for Hanna-Barbera than anyone except Frank Welker, plays Professor Conroy much as he did Doctor Quest, with patriarchal authority. The Professor doesn’t do much except go along with what Buzz says, puff on his pipe (unacceptable on TV today) and occasionally get captured.

The program credits, which combine those of The Impossibles, also include Hal Smith and Don Messick, but they do not include Vic Perrin, Allan Melvin and Keye Luke. The writer specifically credited with Frankenstein Jr. is Eddie Brandt, though Jack Hanrahan and Phil Hahn are also listed generically.

Joe Barbera once compared The Herculoids to Tom and Jerry because the basic story structure was the same: set up the situation, get the characters in place and let the gags begin. Frankenstein, Jr. is a textbook example of how adept Barbera, working with the story team and other creatives, and Hanna, working on the timing and production, were able to hone this art to perfection in the right circumstances.

It’s a formula, to be sure, but when the elements are combined and presented well, it works like a charm. A Frankenstein, Jr. cartoon goes by very fast. The more familiar one is with H-B formulas, the less aware one is of the density. Quite a bit happens in those six and a half minutes.

Buzz and Professor Conroy seem to be familiar with almost all the villains (“It’s so-and-so again!”). Most of these–Zargon, Professor Shock, The Alien Brain, The Spyder Man, The Plant Man, The Junk Man, Dr. Hook, Zorbo the Great, The Birdman, Satano, The Manchurian Menace, Dr. Spectro and Baron Van Ghoul—make just one appearance in the series. Perhaps they might have returned had the network ordered more episodes.

Only two villains appear twice. The standout is Mister Menace, a character clearly derived from the Green Goose in the feature The Man Called Flintstone, sporting the same cowl (except for the color) and transformation twirl. The other is The Master Inventor, who is such a burden to society that Buzz and Frankie have to constantly check on him to see what he’s inventing next.

The conceit of making the Conroys familiar with the villains creates several advantages. It creates a backstory, implying that other adventures have happened that the viewers haven’t seen yet; it allows these characters to appear in new stories for comics, storybooks and future series. Most importantly for TV programming, it creates a circuitous effect for reruns. Through repetition, viewers might recognize Dr. Spectro or Baron Von Ghoul right along with Buzz.

Another of the elements especially prevalent in TV series of the period—due to production speed and the lack of show runners or story editors—are characters and other elements that vanish and never surface again (e.g., “Chuck” on Happy Days). Buzz has an adorable robot puppy named Robar who only shows up in the first part of “The Alien from Outer Space.” Sometimes Buzz has a video watch, sometimes Frankie has one of his own. Once Buzz could see an image of Frankie in his laser ring.

The most impressive element that gets the least attention–not because it never appears again, but because there just isn’t time in every cartoon–is Civic City. The setting of Frankenstein Jr. is a futuristic utopia right out of Walt Disney’s Progressland at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. Only the beautifully designed episode “The Spyder Man” offers much coverage of this gee-whiz city of tomorrow. Buzz and his dad can be seen driving around in a futuristic landlocked bubblemobile right out of The Jetsons, and there are glimpses here and there of Civic City, but it’s possible to watch multiple episodes and have no idea that their whole world is an antecedent of the superb Disney feature Meet the Robinsons, which elaborated on the idea of a family of scientists.

Like all vivid creations once brought to life, Frankenstein Jr. has continued to rear his metallic head on TV reruns, through merchandise, books, comics and other collectible treasures. During the series run, Western Publishing Company created several products including a Big Little Book called The Menace of a Heartless Monster.

Frankenstein Jr. was an early spark that eventually ignited a backlash against cartoon violence from pressure groups within two years, most vocally from one called Action for Children’s Television. There was a fair share of slugs in the jaw and klonks on the head in the series, so it may have been held up as an example at some point. But there were so many other things in which the group could seek offense, Frankenstein Jr.’s relatively low profile by 1968 might have worked in its favor. Regardless, its legacy has never fully dimmed. The big lug and boy genius continue to soar through several comebacks and affectionate nods with each passing year.

In 2013, in a made-for-video feature entitled Scooby-Doo and the Mask of the Blue Falcon, there’s a throwaway gag in which Frankenstein Jr. appears on a parade float.

Surprisingly, Frankie and Buzz never got their own comic book until 1996 when Archie Comics published a single issue as part of the “Hanna-Barbera Presents” series. More recently, Frankenstein Jr and related characters popped up in a DC comic series incorporating great Hanna-Barbera heroes called Future Quest, one of the most acclaimed entries in the line of comic revivals inspired by H-B properties.

The original cartoon itself received play on the Cartoon Network, Boomerang and is currently available on DVD through Warner Archive. One other interesting note, the last network run was on NBC, when the 18 episodes were placed between the two segments of Space Ghost (replacing Dino Boy) and the show was titled Space Ghost and Frankenstein Jr. on NBC from November 27, 1976, to September 3, 1977. As it turned out, even though The Impossibles are much beloved, their groovy sounds kept them firmly (thought delightfully) in the sixties, while Frankenstein Jr. had not become dated. Most recently, of course, it has been run on MeTV Toons and has just been released on a sparkling new Warner Archive Blu-ray.