We have a special treat today: a story-to-screen comparison of the 1935 Walter Lantz Cartune Classic – Fox and the Rabbit!
In 1934, Walter Lantz wanted to expand his output with a series of color cartoons labeled “Cartune Classics.” Since Walt Disney had an exclusive contract with the vibrant three-strip Technicolor process, other animation studios, including Lantz, used two-color Technicolor. Fox and the Rabbit marked the last of six in the series during the 1934-35 release season.
Before the Lantz studio used storyboards in the mid-’30s, stories were typically presented on working sheets, often handled by the animation director. A typical working sheet contains square panels that communicate the general idea of each scene and double as rough animation layouts. Typewritten descriptions and precise directorial instructions corresponded with each action, including the music tempo.
The name “Moreno,” scribbled on the top margins of the sheet, infer that Manuel Moreno was the de facto director of Fox and the Rabbit. Ed Benedict confirmed with Lantz historian Tom Klein that Moreno was a director at Universal. In an interview with Milt Gray, Moreno specifically said he directed Soft Ball Game and “most of the Meany, Miny, Moe pictures,” referring to a later series featuring a trio of monkeys. Due to Lantz’s lack of proper credits, Moreno (and Tex Avery) became unattributed directors for Lantz — it’s impossible to attribute specific titles to them without speculative guesswork.
On a puzzling note, the bottom part of the first page shows the signature of notable music critic and composer Deems Taylor. The reason for the signature—whether inscribed by Deems or Moreno—is unknown. No records indicate any involvement between Deems, Lantz, and Universal. A few theories: Moreno (or Lantz) possibly wanted the narrator’s voice to resemble Taylor’s; Deems came through the studio on a personal tour; or maybe the subject came up in conversation, and Moreno jotted his name.
Manuel Moreno, 1935
(click to enlarge)
Around the time Lantz produced the “Cartune Classics,” Lantz wanted to update the earlier version of his star character, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. He tasked Moreno with a redesign as a cuter white rabbit. Fox and the Rabbit marked the debut of Moreno’s white rabbit design, but the protagonist is named Bobby in the working sheet. (A review in Motion Picture Herald arbitrarily labeled him as “Sonny Rabbit.”)
Fox and the Rabbit was released to theaters on September 30th, 1935; Bobby Rabbit became the new and improved Oswald Rabbit in Case of the Lost Sheep, released in December 1935. When Lantz’s studio faced a financial shutdown in 1940, Universal re-released the “Cartune Classics,” including this film, in 1940—the version you will see here. As a bonus, here are the original main title credits, which reveal the artists responsible.
It’s also worth noting that musical composer James Dietrich chose Brahms’ “Hungarian Dance No. 6” as a chase theme a few years before Friz Freleng’s Pigs in a Polka (Warner Bros. 1943).
Enjoy!
Below is the cartoon without the story sketches.
Special thanks to UCLA Special Collections for the production material; additional acknowledgments to Tom Klein and Michael Barrier for the information in this post.
DEVON BAXTER is a film restoration artist, video editor, and animation researcher/writer currently residing in Pennsylvania. He also hosts a 
I don’t know who wrote Deems Taylor’s name on the working sheet, but I can tell you with a fair degree of confidence that it wasn’t Deems Taylor himself. Taylor had a distinctive signature, which never varied: the curve of the D extended far to the left and then hooked downward, while the crossbar of the T arched over his entire surname like an umbrella.
1934 was a big year for Deems Taylor. He had just joined the cast of the Kraft Music Hall radio program, launching his long career in broadcasting. Also, his second marriage broke up, he was having an affair with a French opera singer, and he was hobnobbing with a lot of Hollywood celebrities thanks to his radio gig; so it’s possible that he might have been the subject of some scandalous gossip. In any case, it’s not unlikely that his name would have come up in conversation at the Lantz studio.
I was intrigued to see the practice of hitting the bottom of a ketchup bottle described as “ala Greek restaurant style.” I didn’t know it was associated with any particular kind of restaurant; I just thought it was the only way to get the last bit of ketchup out without diluting it. The practice has pretty much become obsolete ever since they figured out how to make ketchup bottles with the cap on the bottom.
Thanks Devon, for this very interesting comparative post! In the absence of a complete storyboard, the animators’ skills really got a workout. They had to be able to add funny business to the shots in time to the music and make everything work within the established layouts. At Lantz’s, it seems the staff was in constant peril of being laid off in Depression economic conditions. What a life animators led, and still lead!
“Everyone knows the tale of The Fox and The Rabbit”??