Here's a good print of a vintage cartoon that you may never have seen. Bob Clampett directed some of the funniest cartoons that came out of the Warner Brothers Studio during its Golden Age but he left there in 1945, worked briefly for Screen Gems (Columbia's short films and cartoon division) then made a deal to try and put Republic Pictures into the cartoon business. It was a helluva deal but it fell apart after one cartoon…It's a Grand Old Nag.
The cartoon introduced, for his one and only appearance anywhere, the character of Charlie Horse. His voice and a few others were done by Stan Freberg, getting his first-ever screen credit since his name was not on the many WB cartoons he'd done with Mel Blanc receiving sole credit. Other voices in It's a Grand Old Nag were done by Dave Barry, who did not receive credit.
Clampett managed to assemble some real good animators and he reportedly got Michael Maltese to moonlight from WB and write the script, sans credit. It's not a bad little film but problems quickly arose which, according to Bob, had nothing to do with the cartoon and any reactions to it. Republic Studios just got themselves into a financial mess and had to close down some divisions and cancel many projects. It was the last cartoon Clampett directed in that era before redirecting his energies to the new medium of television and his show, Time for Beany, also starring Freberg.
It's interesting to speculate what the new operation would have produced if they hadn't been shut down after this one film. Given the potential in this film and Bob Clampett's track record, wonders might have occurred. As it is though, we have to settle for just this…
I've decided to take my time writing about Neal Adams. There are so many fine pieces about him on the 'net that no one needs mine right this minute. I think I'll wait and see what, if anything, isn't said about him that I can supply. In the meantime, I recommend the thoughts of Paul Levitz, Mark Waid and Roy Thomas.
One of the many ways Neal changed comics was that he somewhat altered the fundamental relationship between "The Publisher" and "The Talent." Before Neal came along, if you wanted to work in the field, you pretty much had to become an indentured servant to one company or another, allowing them to place you wherever they wanted you. Even Jack Kirby, who at the time should have had the clout to not do that, had to work on a lot of comics he didn't particularly want to do and conform to a lot of editorial dictates he resented.
But Neal came along, first of all, at a time when New Artists were a rare thing at DC or Marvel. They were quite satisfied with their talent pools…which is why it took some time and persistence for Neal to even get serious consideration at DC. And when he did begin working for them, he managed to make them understand that they needed him more than he needed them. He'd had a syndicated newspaper strip (Ben Casey) at age 21 and he had loads of advertising work, most of which probably paid way better than drawing for DC or Marvel.
I don't think editors then knew quite how to deal with this guy who could and would say no to work. But they recognized that he made a difference, especially in the area of covers. He was bringing something new to comics and most of them wanted a piece of that "new." It was especially impressive when Neal, drawing some of the Batman comic books, raised the bar and impacted all who were working on the character. And his influence spread to a lot of comics he never worked on at all.
Facebook is awash with tributes from artists whose careers began or were bettered by Neal — some by direct contact; others by just seeing what he was doing and being inspired by it. Check out some of those essays as well. It's going to take time to fully appreciate the influence of this man.
Sympathy and deepest condolences to the family of cartoonist-theorist Scott McCloud, one of my favorite people in and around comic books. Another was his life-partner Ivy Ratafia who — here's the part I hate to type and you'll hate to read — died yesterday in a car crash in Michigan. According to Facebook posts, she was on her way to see the younger of her two daughters graduate with a master's degree. Ivy was one of those people who was just filled with joy and friendliness and complete support for anyone — and not just her husband — who made the comic art community a better, happier place.
I believe the photo above was taken at a bookstore where Scott was signing and/or speaking…and there she was in the audience, cheering him on, brightening up the room, being her usual effervescent, supportive self. I loved to talk with her and loved to be around the McLeods (or the McClouds — I was never clear on which spelling was used in which context). She had a great laugh, gave award-winning hugs and was just a beautiful human being.
It's going to take a lot of time — time I don't have today — to write what I want to write about Neal Adams, who died yesterday in New York from "complications from sepsis." Here, I'll save you Googling it: "Sepsis is a life-threatening medical emergency that occurs when an infection you already have triggers a chain reaction throughout your body. Infections that lead to sepsis most often start in the lung, urinary tract, skin, or gastrointestinal tract." Neal was 80.
I probably need to write two articles about him — one about what he put onto pages of comic books and how his unique skills revolutionized comics, changing minds everywhere about how they had to be drawn. A lot of people began drawing like him (or trying to) but one of his main achievements was convincing editors and publishers that comics didn't all have to look like what others had done before. Everyone after him who cultivated a unique, individual approach was more welcome in the field because of Neal.
And I need to write about what he did as a crusader, a champion of creators' rights not only in a legal but in a moral sense, as well. I have a dozen stories most people don't know about in which Neal, behind the scenes, saved some colleague's career or prevented the ruination of his or her work.
He could be abrasive and arrogant at times — I might need a third article for that — and God Help You if you were a young kid showing him your portfolio and asking him for a critique. But on balance, he was a force for good in the field and the field was better off for his presence in it.
I'll get around to all this. There's no rush. In the coming weeks, there will be no lack of articles and observations about his work and his accomplishments. He was clearly one of the most important figures in comics and maybe in a few other fields.
The musical version of Billy Crystal's Mr. Saturday Night opened night before last at the Nederlander Theater in New York. Here's a clip of the curtain call, which is rich with self-congratulation and audience love…
So how good a show is it? The reviews all seem to say the show is flawed, the book has a lot of easy laughs, the songs are unimpressive…but there's so much fun on that stage, mostly courtesy of Mr. Crystal, that it's a crowd-pleaser. This is an interesting reaction and maybe it's a good assessment. It's sounding like a show that will run as long as Billy wants to do it eight times a week. I hope that's long enough for me to get back there and see it…or for it to come out here for a while. And why would he not want to do it in a town where all his show biz friends can see him?
This will sound to some of you like a story I made up, especially if you haven't been following this blog lately. But it's absolutely true.
The other day, I had to go in for an Open MRI. It's a test my doctor ordered as a "just in case" thing to deal with a slight possibility of a medical concern. The results are back and the concern turns out to be of no concern. I'm fine.
In case you've never had an MRI: They have you take off everything and put on lightweight clothing with no metal on your person. Then they lay you down on a little platform and slide you into a big machine that takes x-ray-type pictures of your innards. You have to lie very still and at times, they tell you to hold your breath and remain super-still so you don't spoil the imaging.
The machine is very loud so they put non-metallic ear buds on you and pipe in music to drown out the sound of the machine. The nurse prepping me asked what kind of music I wanted. I asked her what options I had. She said, "Anything. We connect with Spotify so you can listen to any channel there or any artist." For no particular reason other than that I'd been talking about him lately on this blog, I said, "Give me Neil Diamond."
So I get strapped-in and I'm lying there and the machine is doing its thing and I'm listening to one Neil Diamond hit after another. I forgot how many the man had. I'm hearing "Cracklin' Rosie" and "I Am, I Said" and "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show" and "Forever in Blue Jeans" and "Solitary Man"…
…and at one point, the technician whose voice occasionally interrupts the music feed to give me instructions, tells me, "Now, Mark, for these next images, it's important that you hold your breath and remain absolutely still." Okay, fine. I take a deep breath and remain absolutely still…
…just as the ear buds start feeding me "Sweet Caroline."
I managed to get through those images without breathing, let alone singing, but it wasn't easy. And afterwards as they got me out, the nurse asked me what I was laughing at. Before I could answer, the technician said, "I told him to hold his breath just when he desperately wanted to go, "Whoa-whoa-whoa!"
Comic-Con International 2022 is scheduled for July 21-24 (with a Preview Night on 7/20) at the San Diego Convention Center. I passed on their "Special Edition" last Thanksgiving, on WonderCon 2022 in Anaheim a few weeks ago and on the smaller, more intimate San Diego Comic Fest this past weekend. While folks who attended these seem to have had a great time, I feel like I made the correct choices for me. Barring an unexpected surge of something contagious, I plan to be at the Comic-Con in San Diego in July. And assuming I can corral the right personnel to be on them, I intend to host Cartoon Voices Panels and Quick Draw! and most of the usual events I host there. I hope.
Some of you may be thinking, "Well, Mark's been to every one of the big San Diego Comic Cons…he doesn't want to break his streak." That matters to me less than you might imagine. Not coming down with a disease that has actually killed people I know…or caused some to go through the agony of having it…that matters more.
The first of the annual gatherings we now know as Comic-Con International was a one-day "test" con held at the U.S. Grant Hotel on March 21, 1970. An estimated 75 people turned out for it but it was considered a success and led to more. I was not among that estimated 75.
The first "Golden State Comic Con" (that's what they called it) was August 1–3 of that year. My friends Steve Sherman, Gary Sherman, Bruce Simon and I went down there for Saturday. Steve drove. We had a great time…and not the slightest inkling of what that event would turn into. No one did except for one of that year's Guests of Honor, a man named Jack Kirby. Boy, did he call it.
Thereafter, I attended every year — and for a time, every day of the con. It grew, it changed locations and it changed names. In '72, it was San Diego's West Coast Comic Convention and in '73, it became the San Diego Comic-Con. Since 1995, it has been Comic-Con International, though I still see people abbreviate that as "S.D.C.C." That includes people who weren't there (or alive) when those really were its initials.
At some point in the eighties, I began to lose enough interest in the event that I began skipping the first day and/or most of the last. There are many reasons why people love being at that event and I found that fewer and fewer were applying to me. For instance, a lot of people go to find and acquire copies of old comic books they love. Around '85, I more or less decided that any old comic book I loved but didn't have wasn't worth the amount of money I would have had to pay for it.
Some people go to buy new books and merchandise. I wasn't buying a lot of that stuff there…and even when I did, I didn't need to be there four days to buy what I was going to buy.
Some people love to see previews of upcoming TV shows and movies. No interest. If I want to see something, I'd rather see it all at once instead of in preview increments.
Some people go seeking employment or business contacts. I had enough of them then. In fact, I found that I enjoyed the con more when I didn't go to it to conduct business.
Some people go to meet people whose work they love. That was a big thing for me at one point. At San Diego Cons, I got to spend time with — just to name a few — Harvey Kurtzman, Will Elder, John Buscema, Gene Colan, James F. Davis (The "Fox and Crow" guy), Charles Schulz, Al Williamson, Marie Severin, John Severin, Mort Drucker and many others. And of course, the problem with that motive is that I ran out of people I wanted to meet.
Among those of us who work in comics, there are folks who make money at the con selling their work. I hope some day if/when I need the dough, I can get comfortable doing that but I'm just not. No criticism is implied of those who do. I kind of envy them in a way.
Photo by Bruce Guthrie
I always enjoyed myself at the con but as I'm trying to explain here, there was this period when I was starting to have moments of boredom and I began paring back the number of days I spent at one, especially when I was attending stag because whatever lady I then had in my life wasn't interested in being at a comic book convention. Then three things changed that…
One was that I had companions who did want to be there. Another was that the convention was asking me to host more and more panels. I think I got up to sixteen one year and those were almost all fun.
And the third one, and this may have been the most important to me, was that I began to view the convention in a different light. I began to feel it wasn't about helping my career or satisfying old nostalgic needs or enlarging my collection. I decided that it was worth going to for me just to spend 4+ days being among so many happy and/or creative people. At a time when I often feel surrounded by people who complain-complain-complain, it's invigorating to be around human beings — even if some of them are dressed like monsters — having the time of their lives.
I will write more about this in the coming weeks. For now, I'll make it simple: I love being at Comic-Con because I love being at Comic-Con. I'm really looking forward to being back at it again.
Back here, I told you about Stu's Show — not the twice-a-month online TV show in which my buddy Stu Shostak interviews folks involved in the history of television but rather, a new documentary by filmmaker C.J. Wallis. It's about Stu and his show but it's also about his friendship/employment with Lucille Ball…and it's about how classic television brought him together with the love of his life…and it's especially about how he and his friends helped save the life of the love of his life.
These storylines all weave together into a fascinating tale involving a lot of folks who appeared in the TV shows that Stu's program celebrates. The list includes (in alphabetical order) Ed Asner, Michael Cole, Tony Dow, me, Jimmy Garrett, Robert Illes, Geri Jewell, Ken Levine, Stanley Livingstone, Randal Malone, Wink Martindale, Margaret O'Brien, Butch Patrick, Jon Provost, Jeannie Russell, Beverly Washburn and Randy West.
I told you that the film would be available for online viewing on all major streaming services and pay-per-view points next week and that's true. But it turns out it's available for pre-order right now on iTunes. Here's the link for those of you who can't wait. Despite my presence in it, I think you'll enjoy it.
Eons ago here, I recommended a book called Raised Eyebrows by my pal Steve Stoliar. Many of you took that recommendation, bought it, loved it and now that book is about to become (as they say) "A major motion picture." With Gilbert Gottfried no longer available to play Groucho Marx in his later years, the producers have engaged Geoffrey Rush…and I don't know about you but I think that's great casting.
I won't take all the credit for that movie sale but I will recommend Steve's latest book. It's called Salamis and Swastikas and it's subtitled "Letters Home From a G.I. Jew." The Jew in question was Staff Sergeant David E. Stoliar, father of Steve, and the letters were penned by the elder Stoliar while serving in World War II. He wrote them to his wife and to Steve's sister from North Africa, Italy, France, Germany, England and other places where The Face of War was there to be described…and amazingly, he also found much in the way of hope and humor to write about, as well.
Steve has collected the letters, penned a fine commentary to them and added in a bevy of photos to help capture that period in his father's life. And now that you're eager to get your mitts on a copy, I will tell you that you have two options. Order it here from Amazon or order it on Steve's website and he'll autograph it to you…or to no one. Whatever you pick, you'll enjoy the experience.
I was going to get off the subject of "Sweet Caroline" but F.O.T.S. Steve Montal sent me this link and it's too good not to post. It's Smokey Robinson and a star-studded crowd saluting Neil Diamond at the Kennedy Center Honors in 2011 — and someone had a real good idea for a little surprise…
John Oliver is off this week but he left us this very long Web Exclusive about a movie I didn't see and you probably didn't see but hell, I'll watch anything this man does…
Rick Caruso is running for Mayor of Los Angeles and promising to solve the homeless problem, the crime problem and Climate Change. Which he could easily do if he just spent the money he's spent so far trying to get my vote.
