Welcome to JB Kaufman, Our Guest Star for Nov. 2010

[sandykaypax]

Thanks for visiting the Oasis, Mr. Kaufman! I am a huge fan of Disney animation from way back. I especially love the Silly Symphonies. I have both of the Walt Disney Treasures Silly Symphonies dvd sets, and I was wondering if we will ever see the remaining Silly Symphonies on dvd. Also, what was the criteria that made a short a Silly Symphony--was it the lack of a character like Mickey?

Sandy K

[movieman1957]

Well, wasn't I rude. I didn't properly welcome you. I'm grateful you have taken some time and spent with us. We have the best luck (and Lynn) getting people to visit with us and talk about movies. Thanks for doing this we appreciate it.

[JB Kaufman]

To movieman1957: No, you weren't rude at all. Thanks for your kind words, and it's a pleasure to be here! Your question is a very good one, and I think there's probably more than one answer to it. For starters, I think you see the purest expression of Walt Disney's own personal vision in his earliest feature films, the ones up through Bambi (1942). Even then, he drew on everything around him, all the influences of his time -- in art, in live-action films, and everywhere else -- but transformed all those different influences, through his own artistic sensibility, into something unique and personal. It's also important to remember that he assembled a never-to-be-equaled team of artists and technicians to make those films, and relied on their ideas too, although he channeled those ideas in the way that would best serve the project at hand. That's one of the big differences between the Disney studio and other animation studios. When you watch a golden-age Warner Bros. cartoon, you know immediately that you're watching a Chuck Jones cartoon or a Bob Clampett cartoon or a Tex Avery cartoon; each director has a distinctive style that's unmistakable. At the Disney studio, a director like Wilfred Jackson might bring special talents or abilities to a given story, but by the time the film was finished, the personal stamp on it was Walt's own. He always acknowledged the contributions of his team members (I'm finishing work on a book about the making of Snow White, and I found that several reviewers were amazed at the length of the Snow White screen credits -- such extensive acknowledgements were unusual in 1937), but ultimately, a Disney film was very much a Walt Disney film.
Now, having said that, I think the other answer to your question is that things did change as time went on. After the end of World War II, as Walt increasingly got into other fields like live-action production, Disneyland, television and so on, they absorbed a lot of his attention. It wasn't that he didn't care for animation any more, but it was sharing his attention with a lot of other interests. So at that point, I do think you're seeing more of an influence from individual directors and animators at the studio. I think Walt's idea was that he had built up a team that was capable of functioning without a lot of guidance, although, of course, he still had to give his approval on each phase of each project, and put his final stamp on each one. Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston said that was one reason it took so long to produce Sleeping Beauty: when they reached a point where they needed to screen something for Walt or get his input, they had to wait until they could get a meeting with him! As long as he lived, he was personally involved in every film that went out with his name on it, but it wasn't the level of involvement he had had on Snow White. On that, his first feature, he carefully, lovingly scrutinized every detail, and there wasn't a frame in the film that wasn't refined over and over according to his vision. Twenty years later, or even ten years later, given all the projects he had going at once, that level of involvement just wouldn't have been physically possible.

[JB Kaufman]

To Lynn: the making of Snow White and Pinocchio? How much time have you got? As you may know, but others may not, I've been working for years on a book about the making of Snow White and am just now putting the finishing touches on it (although it won't be published until December 2012, the 75th anniversary of the film). And the followup project, on which I've already started working, is on the making of Pinocchio. So as far as I'm concerned, the full answer to your question is enough to fill two complete books! As far as the struggles Walt and Roy went through on Snow White, the biggest problem throughout production was money -- how to come up with enough money to keep going. At the time the Mickey Mouse and Silly Symphony series were already established and popular, and the Disneys' distribution contracts specified that their distributor would put up an advance for each short, so that was where the operating budget came from on each individual Mickey or Symphony. But Snow White was an entirely separate project, and production took about four years altogether, so they had to come up with separate financing for that. The money was loaned by the Bank of America, but the Disneys had underestimated the amount they would need, so they had to keep going back for more. That had to be pretty frightening, especially since they were doing something that had never been done before. I think it says a lot for Walt that, in the face of that pressure, he remained a perfectionist and kept holding out for top quality in every aspect of the film, even though it was costing more and more as a result. And it also says a lot for Roy, as the business head of the studio, that he went along with it! There's a famous story that Walt liked to tell in later years, about being forced to show an unfinished work print of Snow White to the banker Joe Rosenberg in 1937 so that they could get one final extension on their bank loan. Walt never liked for outsiders to see a film before it was finished, and he sat with Rosenberg in the screening room, sweating bullets, while finished Technicolor scenes alternated with rough pencil animation. At the end, Rosenberg made the suspense worse by strolling out of the screening room with Walt, casually making conversation about everything but the film! But of course he did give his approval, the studio got the money, and the film was completed. And, of course, it was a hit -- not just a success, but a massive, record-breaking, worldwide success. So, even apart from artistic considerations, the financial gamble was more than justified.
As for Pinocchio, my research still isn't finished, but the essence of the story is that Walt took that tremendous success of Snow White and used it as a foundation on which to build an even more elaborate, lavishly produced picture. As a result, Pinocchio became the most sumptuously detailed and luxurious animated feature in history. What amazes me is that it was produced in two years -- about half the time devoted to Snow White. And it's clearly not a rush job; I think the answer is that a small army of artists and technicians worked on it. The studio staff had increased exponentially during the making of Snow White, and they all turned around and went right into Pinocchio, many of them concentrating on highly specialized aspects of production. (As one example out of hundreds, there was an effects animator who specialized in water, and he stayed busy for the full two years -- there's a lot of water in Pinocchio.) And all of these people were doing their thing simultaneously. The camera-effects department was also ramping up, so in addition to topnotch character animation and effects animation, there were also effects produced by ingenious optical and mechanical means. Even the multiplane camera crane, used to such great effect in Snow White, wasn't flexible enough to handle some of the elaborate moves that were built into Pinocchio, so the crew had to come up with a new way of shooting those. Ultimately, I think the story of Pinocchio is the story of history's greatest animation studio unleashed, their recent success giving them license to explore unlimited frontiers of animation technique. (And then, after all that, Pinocchio was released and didn't duplicate the boxoffice success of Snow White! But that's another story.)
So ... I don't know whether this answers your question, so if there are specific questions, please ask. This certainly doesn't cover the full story of those two films, but I'm working on that too. Stay tuned!

[JB Kaufman]

To sandykaypax: Thanks for your note, and it's always a pleasure to make contact with another Silly Symphony enthusiast! The good news is that, if you've got both of the "Disney Treasures" sets, you've got every one of the Silly Symphonies. At the time the first set was produced, it was clear that two DVDs would only hold about half the Symphonies, and no one knew whether the "Disney Treasures" series would continue after that. So the titles were very carefully chosen, including the obvious ringers like Three Little Pigs and The Old Mill, along with outstanding but lesser-known entries like The Robber Kitten. Fortunately, the "Disney Treasures" were a success and did continue (we all owe Leonard Maltin a lot for making that series possible), so when a second volume of Silly Symphonies was put together, it basically just picked up everything that wasn't on the first collection. That means the early titles and the rarities (including some of my personal favorites) tend to be found on the second set.
As for the dividing line between the two cartoon series, initially the distinguishing thing about the Symphonies was their accent on music. Walt and his crew had come up with a method of precise synchronization between music and image that was, in 1929, absolutely unique and very much a novelty, so the Symphonies made the most of that process. However, the novelty started to wear off within the first year, and by mid-1930 the Symphonies were no longer relying so much on music and dances, but featuring stronger stories. After that, you're right, more and more the Symphonies tended to be simply any Disney cartoons that didn't feature Mickey or the "gang." (One of the most interesting anomalies, I think, is the 1932 Silly Symphony Just Dogs. One of the main characters is, clearly, Pluto -- but because Mickey isn't in the picture, it's not a Mickey Mouse, and because it's a Silly Symphony, Pluto is not referred to by name in the film's publicity or even in the copyright synopsis. In fact Pluto returned in 1936 in Mother Pluto, which originally was planned as a Mickey Mouse -- but, again because Mickey didn't appear in it, was reclassified as a Silly Symphony.) Of course, we should also note that the Symphonies were regarded as the studio's "prestige" line during the 1930s, and as a rule were given larger budgets, more deluxe production, and even larger orchestras on the soundtrack, than the Mickeys.

[knitwit45]

Mr. Kaufman, I don't have a question, just wanted to say hello and thank you for your time and generosity in sharing so much about the Disney dream factory. I grew up in Kansas City, and Mr. Disney is a favored son, even if he didn't really hail from here. I have really enjoyed reading about the Silly Symphonies, as well as the early silents.

Thanks again!

Nancy

[MichiganJ]

Mr. Kaufman, thank you so much for visiting Oasis. I'm a great fan of animation, particularly early animation. (Thanks for mentioning Otto Messmer. To me, many of the Felix cartoons rival the shorts of Chaplin and Keaton. Of course Felix could remove his tail…) Your book, Walt in Wonderland is a particular favorite and I'm happy that some of the Alice and Oswald cartoons have been made available on DVD so that I could see some of the films you had written about. The Oswald cartoons, in particular, are very interesting and the animation is better than I had expected. Plenty of wonderful pantomime gags, and even gags inspired by the Felix cartoons.

I have too many questions and will try and limit myself to a couple.

The early Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons are among my favorites and I wonder if you know what Disney may have thought of Boop's Snow White and the overall surreal nature of many of those shorts. (Can I ask a part B to this? The Fleischer's used rotoscoping to great effect, particularly in the shorts featuring Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong. Did Disney ever rotoscope any animation?)

What did Disney think of the Warner Bros. cartoons? Many of their shorts seem to poke a great deal of fun at Disney (A Corny Concerto comes to mind) and they even called their series Looney Tunes (as opposed to Silly Symponies). My hope is that is was seen as good natured.

If a couple can mean one more question, is it Ub or Ubbe? Either way, can you comment a little on his influence on the early Mickey's and Symphonies? (The Skelton Dance is my second favorite cartoon of all time.)

Thanks again for your time and insights.

[JB Kaufman]

To knitwit45: Thank you for your message. I've never lived in Kansas City, but I am a native Midwesterner and I've always found a kind of primal appeal in the story of Walt's early filmmaking experiences in Kansas City. If you are familiar with KC, you probably know about the group there that's making an effort to restore the McConahy Building, where Laugh-O-gram Films had its offices in 1922. I think that's a pretty exciting restoration project! It's been in the works for a long time, but I'm really looking forward to it when they get it finished.

[JB Kaufman]

To MichiganJ: Thank you for your note and your very kind words. I'm definitely with you on Otto Messmer. A great animated film is a luxury to be savored, and of course that applies to the Disney films we've been discussing here, but there are other films that fit that description and the Messmer Felixes are certainly among them.
Sorry, I've never seen any reference to Walt's reaction to the Fleischer Snow White in particular, or the surreal Fleischer cartoon universe in general. (And let me say up front that I agree, the early Betty Boop and Popeye pictures are wonderful, but even by that time the Fleischer cartoon world and the Disney cartoon world are two distinctly different places.) There are a couple of instances where Walt encourages his artists to see current or recent Fleischer pictures -- a thing that didn't often happen with rival producers' pictures -- but he doesn't go into a lot of detail about it. I could speculate that he admired their consistency, sticking with their unique individual style as long as they did, after almost every other cartoon producer had fallen in line trying to imitate the Disney style -- but that would only be speculation.
As for rotoscoping: as you probably know, by the mid-1930s the Disney studio had pioneered a unique brand of animation, based on observation and analysis of movement in real life -- not trying to recreate the look of real life, but creating fantasy with recognizable roots in reality. Because of that, the artists took a lot of pride in their ability to create lifelike movement, and many of them came to regard the rotoscope as a crutch. They would have regarded any implication that they fell back on it -- again, for their brand of animation -- as an insult. (I started interviewing Disney veterans in the early 1980s, and I can testify that even then, half a century after the fact, the very mention of the word "rotoscope" put some of them on the defensive.) However, the story doesn't end there. When the Disney artists went to work on Snow White, the task of animating Snow White and some of the other "human" characters was an enormous technical challenge. In the end, they solved the problem by 1) filming human models in live action, 2) making rotoscope tracings of that footage, and then 3) using the rotoscope drawings themselves as a guide for the actual animation drawings. In other words, they did rotoscope the human performers, but you didn't see those drawings on the screen. Instead the animator had the option of using them selectively, drawing on them for the mechanics of a leg or head movement or the follow-through action of loose clothing, but not required to reproduce every detail of the movement.
Again, sorry, I don't know much about Walt's feelings about the Warner Bros. cartoons. But when it comes to the ribbing of Disney conventions in WB cartoons like Corny Concerto, I think you're right, my sense is that it was taken in stride as a good-natured thing. The tremendous popularity of the Disney cartoons in the 1930s made Walt the acknowledged industry leader in a very few years, and my sense is that the WB cartoon directors -- the ones who established themselves in the late 1930s and came to dominate the WB cartoons -- saw themselves as the cocky underdogs. So there was a kind of subversive mischief about some of their gags, but I don't think anyone ever read any real malice into it.
As for the alternate spellings of Iwerks' name: they're both right! That is to say: the original spelling of his given name was Ubbe Iwwerks, but he later simplified it (at least for screen-credit and publicity purposes) as Ub Iwerks. And yes, of course he was a very important part of the team in making the early Mickey Mouse and Silly Symphony pictures. At the time he was respected as one of the best animators in the business, and throughout most of the 1920s -- on the Alices and Oswalds, as well as the early Mickeys and Symphonies -- he kind of served as the strong pitching arm of the Disney animation department. Walt was proud of his contributions and gave him screen credit on those early pictures.

[knitwit45]

Mr. K,
My oldest brother was about 4 when Snow White was released. He and Mom went to a matinee to see it. She had told him about the seven dwarfs, etc. They arrived late, and as they were walking down the aisle in the darkened theater, Pete was telling everyone he was going to see the 'seben' little men, and looked up at the screen just in time to see the Queen turn into the hag. He screamed bloody murder, and ran for the back of the theater... I'll bet Walt would have loved it! Not scaring a child, but creating something so powerful it seemed real to a four year old (and most of the adults who saw it, also)

The restoration plans are moving along very slowly, keep your fingers crossed!

[Lzcutter]

JB,

The Walt Disney Family Museum is just a little over a year old and I was hoping perhaps you could talk a bit about the building of the Museum and its mission?

Also, I don't know if our readers know but you are featured on one of the bonus extras on the upcoming release of Fantasia about the work of Herman Schulteis and the discovery of his notebook. Could you tell us a little bit about Schulteis and why his notebook is such an important find?

[JB Kaufman]

To knitwit45: Thank you for sharing that story, about your brother's childhood reaction to the Queen's transformation sequence. It is a very powerful sequence! Walt's daughter Diane saw the film at a pre-release screening at the studio, when she was about 3 1/2, and she reacted to that sequence in the same way. And you're right, Walt was sorry his daughter was frightened, but he defended the idea of showing scary scenes (scary in a healthy way, like that one) to children. (Diane, today, agrees with him.) There was some controversy over that when Snow White was released in England; the government censors thought the transformation was too frightening and at first ruled that children would not be admitted without adults. But there was a big public outcry over that, and eventually they reversed their decision.

[JB Kaufman]

To Lynn: Yes, the Walt Disney Family Museum is definitely worth talking about. I think it took the better part of a decade to plan, design and build it. I wasn't personally involved in it very much until about the last year, but I started working with the Foundation in 2002 and the Museum was already in the planning stages by then. My understanding is that the plan started out on a relatively modest scale, but the idea kept growing, and the finished Museum is nothing short of spectacular. (I had nothing to do with the design, so I can brag about that.) The Walt Disney Family Foundation deserves a tremendous amount of credit for their persistence, sticking with the project through all the obstacles and hurdles they had to surmount. The Museum, located in the beautiful surroundings of the Presidio of San Francisco, has ten permanent galleries that not only display historic artifacts, but arrange them chronologically and use them to tell the story of Walt Disney's life and career. This is probably starting to sound like advertising, so I'll cut it short, but for anyone who hasn't seen the place yet, I can tell you that the stories you've heard are true. Visitors typically come to the Museum expecting to see it in an hour or so, and wind up staying 3 or 4 hours or more and are still overwhelmed by all the wonders inside.
About the Schultheis notebook: for those who haven't already heard about this, Herman Schultheis worked in the camera effects department at the Disney studio in the late 1930s, helping to develop special photographic techniques for some of the effects in Pinocchio, Fantasia and other films. On his own initiative, he started keeping scrapbooks in which he documented those techniques. After a full day's work at the studio, he would go home and work on these scrapbooks on his own time. One of his books in particular was a work of art in itself; he would bring his own camera to work and shoot details of the special camera rigs the crew built, then mount the pictures on a page along with written technical details of lenses, filters, and film stocks that were used to create the effect in question -- and then, very often, make little pockets on the page with short clips of the finished 35mm Technicolor print, to demonstrate the finished result. When Schultheis left the Disney studio in the 1940s he offered to sell the book to the studio, and they turned it down! Thereafter it followed a convoluted trail, and it's an incredible blessing that the book eventually came into the hands of the Walt Disney Family Foundation and is now in the collection of the Museum. While most of the camera-effects crew in 1938-39 was mainly concerned with just getting the effect on the screen, Schultheis was keeping posterity in mind. His pictures and technical documentation are, in many cases, our only record of how some of those amazing effects were achieved. Even better, it's now possible for us to study the book in detail. The Museum's conservation staff not only restored the notebook itself, but then went on to digitize every page of it for the display in the Museum. So now the precious original is preserved and protected, but at the same time the contents are fully accessible.

[JB Kaufman]

Dear everybody: This (Thursday the 11th) is the last of our four days together like this. If any last-minute questions come in I'll do my best to respond to them, but in the meantime I want to thank you all for your very kind hospitality for the last four days. It's been a pleasure to "meet" you all in this way, and I've appreciated the kind comments and interesting questions that some of you have sent in. Now that I've become acquainted with Silver Screen Oasis, I'll probably continue to drop in from time to time and get in on some of these other conversations. Anyway, this has been a very pleasant introduction, and I just wanted to say that I appreciate it. Very best wishes to all - JB Kaufman

[moirafinnie]

Thank you so much for sharing your knowledge with us at the SSO, JB.

I sincerely hope that you will return in the future to let us know about any future projects or books that we can look for. (Thanks to your companion book on the Silly Symphonies, I've already splurged on a DVD of those delightful cartoons--which I told myself was for my nieces and nephews! Yeah, right!). Hats off to Lynn for arranging your visit as well.