The origins of Yakky Doodle can be found in a 1950 Tom and Jerry cartoon called “Little Quacker.” He’s actually a good character in that short. He’s sympathetic. He hatches and Tom tries to turn him into roast duck without deserving any ill fate. But in later shorts he got self-pitying about his orphaned state and bawled constantly to get someone to give him a home.

Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera liked the character, so when they started their own studio, they put the duck in several cartoons. It was the same old thing. He was a user in “Slumber Party Smarty” (1958), playing the sympathy card to have Yogi Bear take him in, then selfishly ignoring a kind request to remain quiet (Yogi ends up leaving while the clueless duck wonders why).

In September 1961, Kellogg’s had announced it would sponsor a half-hour, early-evening, syndicated cartoon series featuring Mr. Magoo, similar to the half-hours it was sponsoring that were fronted by Huckleberry Hound and Quick Draw McGraw. But UPA, the studio behind Magoo, pulled out of the deal. Kellogg’s needed something fast. Hanna-Barbera was ready. Yogi Bear had pretty much eclipsed Huckleberry Hound as the studio’s No. 1 star—so he got his own show. To fill the rest of the half hour, Hanna and Barbera pulled out two characters that had been used as supporting players—Snagglepuss, and the duck, at the time named Iddy Biddy Buddy.

His name got changed but he still exhibited some of the same traits. He still pulled guilt trips, faking how he’d freeze to death if he wasn’t able to mooch a home. He whined about being an orphan. Fortunately, writer Mike Maltese realised there were very few laughs to be mined with a star that was a pest, so he eliminated a lot of the negativity and put the comedy in the mouths of villains. Maltese came up with Fibber Fox, then Tony Benedict, who spelled off Maltese on the series, spoofed Alfred Hitchcock Presents by creating Alfie Gator, right down to the silhouettes and character outline. Daws Butler doesn’t do a Hitchcock impression, but he evokes Hitch with an English-esque accent punctuated by heavy breaths.

(As an aside, something else that helped Yakky was his voice. The earlier duck had been voiced by nightclub performer Red Coffey/Coffee whose imitation Donald Duck delivery was sometimes stiff and undecipherable. Children’s entertainer Jimmy Weldon won the Yakky role; he had a duck puppet character on his popular local Los Angeles TV show. Weldon was a great choice. Compared to Coffey, his diction was much clearer and his line reading more enthusiastic).

This lengthy introduction brings us to the cartoon “Duck Seasoning.” Benedict wrote this one and it’s one of the best in the series. It’s a two-character cartoon, Yakky and Alfie. Yakky isn’t constantly crying for his dog friend, Chopper, to bail him out of trouble. Yakky takes care of Alfie himself. His independence is refreshing.

Alfie keeps up a steady stream of patter to the viewers, just like Hitchcock addressing the audience in his show. He is revealed after entering in silhouette and, again like Hitchcock, wishes us a “good evening.” And he tells us there will be brief pause before fading out, then welcomes us back when the next scene fades in; Hitchcock used the same device for commercial breaks on his show. I didn’t watch Hitchcock when I was 6 but I still got the reference when I saw these cartoons for the first time (thanks to station promos that ran during daytime hours). Best of all, Hoyt Curtin composed a tune reminiscent of the well-known Hitchcock theme Funeral March of a Marionette. It fit perfectly.



Here’s the opening dialogue. Tony had a good ear for the Hitchcock format; Hitch would explain what was about to unfold for viewers.

Alfie: Good evening. (Breathes). Welcome to Roast Duck Season. You are about to witness the decline and fall of a duck (breathes) at the hands of Yours Truly.
Roast duck under glass is a must for any cultured gourmet. (Breathes) I shall attract the main course with this ingenious dinner bell (breathes) known as a “duck call.”
(Alfie blows duck call four times)
Yakky: Quack quack?!?
Alfie: For my next number (breathes), I shall play the ballad “The Duck I Left Behind Me.”
(Alfie blows duck call twice)
Yakky: Sounds like some poor duck left behind me.

“What am I going to do with this rifle?” Alfie says, repeating Yakky’s question when the two finally meet. “Such bland naiveté would melt a heart of lesser stuff,” he tells us. Tony doesn’t give us a gag to end the scene; Yakky simply runs away after being fired on before a fade out.

Now a series of blackout gags follows, with Alfie commenting on each failure. In a way, it’s reminiscent of what Maltese did with Wile E. Coyote, Super Genius, in cartoons with Bugs Bunny. Alfie captures Yakky in a pot. “Modesty (breathes) forbids my pointing out the particular brilliance of the foregoing manoeuvre.” Yakky responds by bashing Alfie on the head with the pot. “Action (breaths) seems to speak louder than words. And, I might add, much harder.”

Alfie decides to shoot himself into the sky from a cannon to capture the duck. While he’s explaining his theory of flight to us from inside, Yakky plugs the mouth of the cannon with a rock. Kaboom.



Next, Alfie tries to send himself aloft through the force of a tree he is riding, and is about to cut loose after tying it to the ground. Crash! “I shall return in a moment (breathes) with renewed vigour and courage.” Return he does to use a rocket strapped on his back to “thrust me into the duck’s orbital trajectory.”

Unfortunately, the missile stops in mid-air and crashes back to Earth. “That is what is known in the missile industry as a (breathes) ‘successful failure,’” Alfie opines.



Yakky stops to rest on a tree branch. Alfie climbs it “with the finesse of a telephone lineman” (he even attached hobnails to his feet). Yakky simple chops down the tree. “For the laymen in the audience,” he remarks before the tree smashes to the ground, “timber means ‘look out’.”

“That forces me to accept the subtlest form of victory (breathes)—defeat,” he concludes and there’s a wipe to the next scene showing Alfie ordering a hot dog. “Naturally,” he confides, “the hot dog is somewhat below the dignity of a true gourmet, however (breathes) it’s never been known to retaliate by fighting back. So, if you’d excuse me, I shall say (breathes) goodbye.” And Alfie wanders off, leaving an outline of his head while Curtin’s faux marionette march plays.



Don Williams is the animator; there’s nothing distinctive about his work in this cartoon. Dan Noonan handled layouts while Bob Gentle was the background artist. This setting opens the cartoon over Daws Butler’s narration.


Tony Benedict hit on a good formula for this cartoon, or at least one I like. Yakky standing up for himself, no Chopper, lots of bad guy with self-commentary. With that, we wish you “Good evening.”

Time for a little quiz. See if you recognise a certain voice in this broadcast of the Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show from October 5, 1952. Advance the show to about the 21:15 mark. She’s on for about 45 seconds with Phil and the great Elliott Lewis.



Off the air, she looked like this:



But you probably know her better as this:



Yes, it’s Julie Bennett, voice of Cindy Bear, originally hired to work at Hanna-Barbera in 1959 in the role of Sagebrush Sally in a Quick Draw McGraw cartoon. Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera knew her before this; Variety reported on January 31, 1955 that she would be “narrating” Tom and Jerry cartoons for MGM, then revealed on August 27, 1956 that she would be voicing for them (there’s been speculation Bennett is the babysitter in Tot Watchers, one of the last T&Js).

I started writing this post 3½ years ago then set it aside, hoping some information would come to light about her, such as when she was born, if Julie Bennett is actually her name and what she is doing today. Nothing has surfaced, so I’ll have to give up the plan.

Bennett doesn’t seem to have done (or have been asked to do) many newspaper interviews. There’s one I found from 1970 consisting of three lines that may have been part of a longer interview. For cartoon fans, there’s no real news in it—all it says is that she was better known for commercials and cartoons than live action stuff. In another interview, the Los Angeles Times talks to her about how models can improve their voices. And during her radio soap opera career, she gave advice about what kind of shoes women should wear. Not weighty stuff.

Perhaps the oddest interview was by Wendy Warren. Warren was a fictional character, the star of the soap opera Wendy Warren and the News, which blurred lines by opening with a real newscast and then storyline banter with veteran CBS newscaster Doug Edwards. Here’s what “Wendy” wrote in her column; I found this in a paper of August 23, 1951:

Instead of following the famous “go West” maxim for success — Julie Bennett reversed it. . . . Born in California, right near Hollywood, Julie studied dramatics with Max Reinhardt, and dialects with Alice Harries — then she came to New York to try for radio. Her versatile voice was an immediate asset, and Julie began getting parts immediately.
Then she heard that auditions were being held over at NBC for a new “Chichi” on “Life Can Be Beautiful.” . . . This has always been Julie’s favorite dramatic serial, and she went over to try out—winding up as one of four selected from several hundred. . . . The role went to Teri Keane—but Julie so impressed the producers that she now has the key role of “Eunice” on the show. In real life, the slender, auburn-haired Californian is still single, so serious about her career that she names as her hobby “studying acting,” and so pretty that a Marine Corps Battalion in Korea has named her as its pin-up girl.

September 15, 1948
SHERLOCK HOLMES With John Stanley, Ian Martin, Barry Thompson, Charles D. Penman, Julie Bennett, Anthony Kemble Cooper; Cy Harrice, announcer; Albert Buhrman, organist. Writer: Howard Merrill; Director: Basil Loughrane.
30 Mins.; Sun., 7 p.m. (EDT)
TRIMOUNT CLOTHING
Mutual, from New York

January 26, 1949
Julie Bennett appearing as Helen Palmer in the comedy-farce “At War With the Army,” at the Bushnell Theatre in Hartford, Conn., staged by Ezra Stone.

October 5, 1949
I LOVE A MYSTERY With Russell Thorson, Jim Bowles, Tony Randall, Les Tremayne, Julie Bennett, Laurette Fillbrandt, Vilma Kurer; Frank McCarthy, announcer. Producer-Director-Writer: Carlton E. Morse
15 Mins.; Mon.-Fri., 7:45 p.m.
MBS, from New York

October 19, 1949
Julie Bennett, in from Coast for Manhattan radio-TV originations, into "Theatre Guild of the Air" next Sunday and on "M-G-M Theatre of the Air" Friday.

January 25, 1950
Julie Bennett into lead of "Grand Central Station" this Sat. (28).

February 8, 1950
Julie Bennett into "Portia Face's Life" and "Man Against Crime" TVer this Friday.

April 12, 1950
Julie Bennett into "Aldrich Family" tomorrow (13) and NBC's "To Ricky With Pride" on Tuesday (18).

June 28, 1950
Julie Bennett to Coast for month's legit engagement.

August 3, 1950
Julie Bennett, one of Gotham's top radio actresses, is returning home after what started out to be a three-week vacation. When the word got around she was in town there was a deluge of calls and just to accommodate some old friends she worked five shows.

October 4, 1950
Julie Bennett into MBS'"Nick Carter" Sunday (8) and a featured role on ABC-TV's Chico Marx show Monday (9).

November 29, 1950
Julie Bennett into “Big Town” TV lead tomorrow (Thursday).

December 6, 1950
Julie Bennett into "Life Can Be Beautiful".

June 4, New York

Mrs. Margaret G. Twyman, community relations director of the Motion Picture Assn. of America, will send a letter this week to 160 women's clubs and film councils lauding Columbia's “Hey There, It's Yogi Bear.” Mrs. Twyman's letter urges support for "such a happy film" as the Hanna-Barbera animated color feature, which she describes as "a delightful movie for the whole family."

June 10, Los Angeles
The phone company by early evening last night had pulled the plug on a publicity stunt engineered by Columbia to puff a pic.
Col set up 10 telephone lines for kids to call a certain number—WE 72000—in a bally for opening June 17 of the Hanna-Barbera animated feature, "Hey, There, It's Yogi Bear." It was figured by the phone company that more than 100,000 overflow calls came in. That jammed the Webster exchange for two hours. Hence phone company disconnected the setup, which was interfering with regular important calls.
Columbia today plans adding another 10 lines for stunt, but with the understanding that should the exchange area be seriously disrupted company will be forced to close out the phone gimmick for good.

June 19
Six words in almost microscopic six-point type which threaten to add $3,800 to cost of Columbia's "Hey, There, It's Yogi Bear" ads in the L.A. Times have been yanked by Col ad manager Jack Burwick.
Line, which reads "Original Soundtrack Album on Colpix Records," escalates the entire 42-inch ad into the “national rate” category, a difference, according to Burwick, of $19 an inch. Film ads normally qualify for "local" rate sans disk plug because pic screens in local theatres, but when a record is advertised, ad becomes "national" because it is something offered in stores nationally.
Times apparently overlooked line for first two days of advertising, then advised Burwick of discovery yesterday. Rather than pay upped rate, Burwick elected to drop the line. Burwick reports that MGM has had similar experiences with "Unsinkable Molly Brown" shellac plugs.
Times' ad censor Marvin Reimers, meanwhile, insists rate variance between the two ad classifications is not as great as Burwick claims, though Burwick asserts he got rate scoop from Herb Marx, the Times entertainment ad topper. Reimers says difference would be closer to $12.60 an inch.
Burwick plans to take beefs to Times ad execs after consulting with Col homeoffice. He is peeved with paper on other counts, among them censorship which he deems arbitrarily applied despite fact that MP'AA passes all ads prior to Times perusal.

August 5
While evening shows continue to present something of a problem, there apparently is still a nice amount of loot to be made from cartoon features aimed at the kiddie trade. This is the report from Columbia whose Hanna-Barbera cartoon feature, "Hey There, It's Yogi Bear," opened rather slowly in early June but is now picking up a neat boxoffice momentum.
That Col is not exactly disenchanted with the kiddie fare is underscored by the fact that company is presently negotiating for the release of Richard Davis' Italo import, "A Trip to the Moon," featuring a puppet mouse, Topo Gigio, seen this side on various Ed Sullivan tv shows. If the current negotiations are satisfactorily concluded, Col will release the color puppet feature this coming Christmas.
In an effort to combat the dropoff in trade which usually occurs for a kiddie pic at evening showings, Col has been booking "Yogi Bear" with a reissue of its British click, "The Mouse That Roared," or Audie Murphy's "The Quick Gun." In some instances the companion pic is only shown at the evening sessions.

September 2, Denver
Pairing of 20th-Fox's “Cleopatra” with Columbia's “Hey There, It's Yogi Bear” at three Denver drive-ins (Aug. 19-25) may have been an exhibitor's dream of a “well-balanced program,” but it did not excite the friendly wishes of 20th toppers.
Queried as to the unusual booking, a 20th spokesman reported this week that “Yogi” had been added to the three Denver dates without 20th's knowledge and were in actual violation of the “Cleo” contracts.
Latter specify that “Cleo” must play as a single bill. 20th, the spokesman adds, registered strong objections when they learned of it. Col's cartoon epic, it's understood, was played only once a night at the drive-ins as a sort of “curtainraiser.” Exhib paid flat terms for the pic which, 20th is told, did not come out of “Cleo's” percentages.

Hanna-Barbara’s Diversification Kick as They Make Like Disney
Say this, too, for Walt Disney—he’s proving an inspiration for Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera in the hot pursuit of diversified fortune-making.
Peering past their drawing boards (or over their mahogany desks), the hotshot cartoon impresarios are, a la Disney, drawing a bead on the live-action field (for both theatrical and tv exposure), and, again like the master, are projecting a move into outdoor entertainments via a 90-acre “Jellystone Park” south of San Diego.
The boys, who know a merchandising parlay when they see one (Hanna-Barbera-licensed creations racked up a retail gross last year of more than $120,000,000), are eyeing yet another lucrative tangent (the Disney exemplar ends here)—a coast-to-coast chain of franchised snack shops starring “Yogi-burgers.”
Meanwhile, it’s contract renewal time between H-B and Screen Gems. Negotiations are in progress and expected to produce another hitch (the last extended three years), since it's obviously been a sweet tieup both ways. (But you can bet the animators will drive a good bargain.)
In New York last week, a reflective Joe Barbera contrasted their animation output (of “Tom & Jerry” shorts) over a 20-year span for MGM (48 minutes worth a year with a staff of 190), against their total for last year alone of over 90 hours with a staff of 320. And even at that old leisurely filmville pace, Barbera recalled he still worked many a night.
For the live-action segue, the pair’s blueprints include two for television, an hour adventure series (Bill Anderson and Bill Hamilton are scripting the pilot), and a half-hour gimmick comedy with Malibu beach for a backdrop. Both are ‘65-‘66 candidates. Three more projects are aimed for theatrical release—“Mr. Mysterious,” a costume opus about a travelling magician and his family (based on the novel by Sid Fleischman); “Park Ave. Indians,” initially scripted as a tv pilot but which is undergoing expansion to cinema proportions; and “Father Was a Robot,” which Barbera says is about a “funny, swinging robot” (it better be—he says the metallic marvel was built for $75,000).
None of the three features has a distribution deal as yet. H-B’s first movie entry, the current “Hey There, It’s Yogi Bear,” will be followed by a feature treatment of the “Flintstones,” which Barbera says Columbia will release at Christmas, ‘65.
Not to forsake its homescreen cartoon output (the fellows are hardly neglecting the tube, with two shows on the networks, including the new “Jonny Quest” adventure skein, and a pretty goodsized zoo menagerie making it in syndication), H-B has yet four more animal formats on the boards, plus two more action-adventure half-hours in the “Jonny Quest” idiom, plus still another six-minute strip for local kidshow splicing.

Only the hammy Snagglepuss could build himself into such a ridiculous situation that he not only becomes the presiding judge in the trial of a Western bank robber, he assumes the identities of almost everyone else needed for a court hearing. In the end he becomes his own worst enemy. And the terminology of the legal system was something perfect for writer Mike Maltese to play around with.

In order to don all those roles, Snagglepuss does a lot of zipping around. That means a lot of brush lines. The painting department at the Hanna-Barbera studio kept busy on this cartoon. Some examples...



The animator in this cartoon is veteran Jack Carr. He was born in Manhattan on June 23, 1901 to James J. and Alice (Boland) Carr. He began his career drawing comic strips for the New York Globe before going into the animation business in 1924. According to his obit in the Los Angeles Times, he worked on the silent Felix the Cat shorts. Carr got a job with the Mintz studio and moved West with it in 1930. He jumped from Mintz to Lantz to Warners in a few short years and purportedly was the voice of Buddy in the Warners cartoons (Variety noted in 1936 he was doing cartoon “vocal effects”). By the end of the decade, Carr began a long career at MGM, much of it apparently as an assistant animator as he was only credited on screen in the mid ‘40s in the George Gordon unit and toward the end of the studio’s life in the later ‘50s. Somewhere along the way, he had a spell at Disney. In November 1967, Weekly Variety reported Carr became first employee in 10-year history of Hanna-Barbera Prods. to retire under Motion Picture Pension Fund. Carr died in Los Angeles on August 3, 1974.

Carr uses the same kind of mouth movements as Ken Muse. You can see the characters have a little half row of upper teeth and a small tongue that flips around. But there’s something about it I just can’t explain that’s different than Muse’s work.

Snagglepuss emotes forth with one of his soliloquys. The situation is this. Bank robber Fowler Means and his crooked lawyer Ornery Cuss have used their guns to intimidate everyone to get out of town, thus stopping Means’ trial (“sudden lead poisonin’,” Means calls it). Included is the circuit judge, who takes refuge from the flying bullets in Snagglepuss’ cave. Sayeth the mountain lion:

Who slammeth my door and disturbeth my slumber? Mayhap an errant breeze, mayhap. (Looks down). But ho! Beneath my sleepin’ pad, a pair of boots belongin’ to a sneakin’ cad. Come out! Emerge, even!

Judge: Don’t shoot! I’m the circuit judge.
Snag: A short circuit judge.
Judge: It can get mighty dangerous out there dispensin’ justice.
Snag: Ah! If I were judge, no criminal the law would smudge.
Judge: Why not? You could take my place and split the fee.
Snag: It would be an honour to be a “your honour.”

Maltese pulls a beautiful pun. Snagglepuss is sworn in, goes into town and introduces himself to Means and his lawyer. “I’m the new circuit judge,” he declares. “Have robe, will gavel.”

Judge Snagglepuss now conjures a stream-of-consciousness routine where he invents people needed for the trial to proceed, baffling Means and Cuss in the process. He quickly becomes the prosecuting attorney who, needing a witness, instantly becomes Zelda Scrubbinbrush, the cleaning lady at the bank (Daws Butler uses his Tilly Schimmelstone voice from the Flintstones episode “The Little White Lie” as a great comic tuba cue plays in the background). No sooner does “she” smash an umbrella on the head of Cuss when he objects to the testimony, than Snagglepuss turns into Zelda’s nephew, Wild Bill Hickory Stick, “the fastest draw in the West...or East, even!”

A great sequence follows where Means tries to insult Hickory Stick into a gunfight, but Snagglepuss keeps finding excuses not to do draw a gun. “And I’ll bet she makes terrible apple pan,” growls Means. “Cain’t draw on that,” replies Snagglepuss. “Most obnoxious apple pan dowdy in the West.”

The two bad guys approach Snagglepuss from either side. Maltese now tosses in one of those fast-talking situation changes he’d pull off in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. He starts giving instructions like the two are dueling and they follow along, They catch on. Suddenly, Snagglepuss resumes being the judge and orders Means from his court, not realising what he just did until he returns to the stand in the next scene. Snagglepuss decides to become the accused, who is convicted by the jury, all duplicates of Means, then returns to the bench and sentences himself to 99 years. The cartoon ends with Snagglepuss bolting from the courthouse and running along Dick Thomas’ Western plain, with rose-coloured buttes and yellow and orange dirt. Carr’s run cycle is pretty basic. Six drawings, one for each frame. Means’ feet are in the exact same position during a run cycle earlier in the cartoon. Unfortunately, I can’t create an endless cycle for you. The background begins repeating after the 16th drawing. Six doesn’t go into 16 evenly.



That background is in the opening scene (the sign is on an overlay). Thomas has another desert scenario in the background when the judge runs into Snagglepuss’ cave (on two overlays). The horse disappears from the cartoon after the first shot.

As you might expect, there’s a “Heavens to Murgatroid!” as well as a “Heaves to Habeas Corpus!” and three “Exit, stage left”s.

Art Davis is the story editor, Lance Nolley is the layout artist. There are only four characters in the cartoon (other than the identical jurors); Don Messick is Ornery Cuss while Butler plays Snagglepuss, the judge and Means.

These are all drawn in pencil, not ink. The red is Colerase colored pencil, used to rough in drawings by animators, then the graphite lines are put down over the colored ones when the drawings are tightened up. Sometimes Dan Gordon would leave just the red roughs on the page, (like the Masking For Trouble board) maybe he felt that the red lines were strong enough in those cases. He even HAND-DREW the panel borders! No pre-printed storyboard sheets at H-B! These are all done on 12 field animation paper, if you notice the punch at the top.

Let’s check out the board. Below are Marshall’s finished drawings of panels 6 and 7. Gordon’s Jinks has rounder eyes and I like the slight open-mouth giggle better.



Charlie Shows is responsible for the dialogue. Whether he provided the dialogue here or for the finished cartoon or both, I couldn’t tell you. But it’s not the same here as in the cartoon. This is what’s in the cartoon from panels 6 to 10:

Dixie: Yeah. He’s always pickin’ on us.
Jinks chuckles
Pixie: But the worm has turned. No more runnin’ from old Jinks. We gotta fight back.
Dixie: Yeah, Pixie. Two against one. We oughta clobber that cat.
Jinks: Eh, like, uh, boo to you two!
Pixie and Dixie: It’s Jinks! Scram!

Was the extra dialogue put in to pad for time? Could be.

By the way, in panel 17, Jinks uses the word “mices.” In the cartoon, he calls them “mousies.” He didn’t use the word “meeces” consistently in the first season.



Shows was seemingly unable to resist any opportunity for rhymes, no matter who the character is. Panel 33 in the actual cartoon goes “Operation Dog Tag in the bag.” After Shows left and Warren Foster arrived in 1959, the rhymes were restricted to Yogi Bear.



When panel 49 hit the screen, Clinton (or whoever) changed the shot to leave out the mice and the little swirling bubbles around Jinks’ head. The dialogue: “Wow, now! Shee! Tuh, I’ve never been in a earthquake before.” Dixie’s line Panel 50 is lifted from Cass Daley’s radio catchphrase “I did it and I’m glad.” But the cartoon ends us with the line “We did it and I’m glad we did it.”





See the teeth in panel 56? Marshall keeps them when he animates the scene around panel 60. The dog’s first appears in three frames before impact. Panel 65 has a better line in the cartoon. Observed Jinks: “So that’s the scoop-arooni, eh?” I believe Scoop-arooni is the San Francisco Ice Cream Treat.





Marshall’s rendering of 77 and 78. See how close he is to Gordon’s work.





Bob Gentle is the background artist. Compare Gordon’s panels 86 and 90 to Gentle’s work in the cartoon.





The cartoon ends with Jinks saying, “Uh, like King-Size says, ‘You hollerin’ and I’ll keep a-comin’!” then chortling instead of what’s in the panels (the scene fades instead of irising out).



The meece run cycle that ends things is six drawings on twos. We’ve slowed down the cycle a little bit from what’s in the cartoon.

Fred Flintstone is a good guy underneath, despite his bluster, pig-headedness and other faults. Barney Rubble is a good-natured, loyal friend. Both of those things remained constant through various incarnations of the Flintstones. That’s why the Bedrockers have survived for so long and are still popular today.

The internet is one big calendar. It loves birthdays, anniversaries, death-iversaries. Today marks 55 years since the Flintstones made history in becoming the first prime-time, made-for-TV cartoon series. (No, that’s not Ubba Ubba from Ruff and Reddy making a guest appearance in the ad you see. It’s Fred, Jr. who was dropped from the show in development around the time the name “Flagstones” was changed to “Flintstones.” Someone evidently didn’t tell whoever supplied newspaper ads for ABC affiliates because this appeared in a number of papers).

The Flintstones initially suffered from its advance hype. It was pushed and pushed in interviews as an “adult” show. Critics expected something more sophisticated than what it saw, they anticipated a cartoon full of pointed satire on modern day life. That wasn’t what they got. The reviewers weren’t generally happy. Besides the storyline of the debut cartoon, “The Flintstone Flyer,” the laugh track and the animation also came in for criticism (reviewers may have thought prime-time would bring about higher budgets to pay for rendering closer to what Uncle Walt was showing off on his Sunday evening show. You can read the “inked disaster” review from the New York Times and other printed lashings HERE). In fact, this blog has been around so long, we’ve “anniversaried” the show plenty. Read some thoughts about the Flintstones HERE. The critic for the Yonkers Herald Statesman wasn’t altogether negative, but didn’t appear to have a high opinion of TV sitcoms themselves:

It’s a bit too much like an animated “Honeymooners,” but your previewer will guarantee you at least five solid laughs and that’s way above average. You’ll love the bowling scene, the way the paper is delivered, and the neighbor’s flying machine.

THE FLINTSTONES
(Fri., 8:30-9 p.m., ABC-TV)
Filmed by Hanna & Barbera for Miles Labs. Producers-directors, Joe Barbera, Bill Hanna; written by Joe Barbera, Mike Maltese, Dan Gordon; animator, Carlo Vinci; camera, Frank Paiker, Roy Wade; layout, Walt Clinton; editor, Joseph Ruby; Music, Hoyt Curtin; production Supervisor, Howard Hanson.
Voices: Alan Reed, Jean Vander Pyl, Bea Benadaret, Mel Blanc.
Animated animals are more fun than animated people. At least that’s the way it is with the assorted animals and people that pop out of television’s most creative and productive cartoonery, Hanna & Barbera. “The Flintstones,” a “people” program and first of the company’s series aimed specifically at the adult audience, proved a disappointment in its ABC bow.

Paradoxically, “The Flintstones” seems less adult than “Huckleberry Hound” and “Quick Draw McGraw,” H&B’s two remarkably clever and consistently enjoyable programs supposedly ticketed for children but equally, if not more, appealing to young adults. “Flintstones,” in keeping with the overworked current vogue, is a family comedy about two couples living in the Stone Age. There is irascible Fred Flintstone and his wife, Wilma, and easygoing Barney Rubble and spouse, Betty. The relationship of the couples, notably the men, is reminiscent of “The Honeymooners,” notably Gleason and Carney. In essence, it is a satire on modern suburban life, but in the opener it didn’t come across.
There is a laugh track, a negative factor not present in “Huck Hound” and “Quick Draw.” Apparently adults need to be advised when to chuckle, whereas children are bright enough to draw their own conclusions. Character voices are neatly conveyed by Alan Reed, Jean Vander Pyl, Bea Benadaret and Mel Blanc. Joe Barbera and Bill Hanna share the producer-director shots. Tube.

THE FLINTSTONES
With Alan Reed, Jean Vander Pyl, Bea Bendaret [sic], Mel Blanc, others
Producers - Directors: Joe Barbera, Bill Hanna
Writers: Barbera, Mike Maltese, Dan Gordon
30 Mins., Fri., 8:30 p.m.
MILES LABS, R. J. REYNOLDS
ABC-TV (film)
(Wade, Wm. Esty)
Out of the Hanna-Barbera cartoon shop, which has turned out such tv winners as "Huckleberry Hound" and "Quick Draw McGraw," comes the first animated series for "adult" tv with a regular cast of characters and running story line.
On paper and perhaps on the drawing board as well, "The Flintstones" looked like a shoo-in for ABC, particularly in view of the H-B track record for satire and sophistication in their cartoon fare. But a shoo-in it’s not—it will draw sizeable audiences for a start because of its novelty value and because there’s a reasonable quota of laughs in the-show, but on the basis of the first episode it doesn’t seem to have the qualities that make for staying power.
"Flintstones" is billed as a satire on suburban living, and it has the trimmings. Set in the cave-man era, its characters nonetheless live like modern suburbanites with all the latest conveniences, except that the settings and props are made out of prehistoric materials. The idea is good—it sharpens the eye for the more absurd aspects of "modern conveniences," and it enables the viewer to look at modern life from a fresh viewpoint. Unfortunately, though. Hanna & Barbera failed to take advantage of this. There were some fine sight gags, to be sure, but no satire at all, nothing to point up anything silly in modern life.

But that’s a minor matter. The main trouble with "The Flintstones" is the Flintstones, the title characters. The key to success in any situation comedy — and any cartoon series, for that matter—is that the leading characters must be likable. The Flintstones aren’t. Fred Flintstone (voice by Alan Reed) is a noisy, boastful bore, with nary a good quality to be seen. His wife (Jean Vander Pyl) is altogether a colorless character. The other regulars are their next-door-neighbors, voices by Mel Blanc and Bea Benadaret. But he’s portrayed as a stupid dolt of whom Flintstone is always taking advantage, and she’s rather dull.
As a consequence, there isn’t much for the viewer here in terms of regular tune-in except the occasional novelty of cartoon comedy, but one-dimensional comedy in the script sense at that. Fred Flintstone isn’t going to garner the kind of popularity that H-B’s Huck Hound or Yogi Bear have occasioned, since he’s not a particularly likable kind of guy. Nor is Barney Rubble, the neighbor, though he’s got a better chance.
Opening storyline was a routine sort of affair, with the men feigning injuries to get out of going to the opera so they could sneak off to bowl instead, then getting back home ahead of the wives, The stanza had its funny moments, and some of the animated props were amusing, but the entire script was pretty rudimentary, and as for the satire, it just wasn’t in evidence.
"Flintstones" is not only disappointing in itself, but because it’s a pioneer effort that could have opened the door to more animated comedy and perhaps more satire with it (a cartoon is so impersonal that it can use satire where ordinary comedy would hesitate). Someday, perhaps an adult cartoon series will make its way onto the networks, out "Flintstones," based on the preem offering, doesn’t qualify. Chan.

Hanna-Barbera’s Billings Mounting
That Hanna-Barbera, Screen Gems marriage continues on its prosperous course. Kellogg’s, via Leo Burnett, has inked for another season of “Huckleberry Hound” and “Quick Draw McGraw.” Season of ‘61-‘62 Will find three Hanna-Barbera shows in national spot, with Kellogg’s picking up the tab. The third is “Yogi Bear,” which makes its debut next month as separate series.
SG also is looking for a renewal of Hanna-Barbera’s “Flintstones” next season on ABC-TV. Show, doing fine in the rating meter for the current season, has picked up another six episodes via exercising of options, with the web and sponsors now committed to 32 episodes for the season, instead of 26.
“Yogi Bear” national spot series prior to its January debut also had the number of episodes committed increased from 26 to 32.

IATSE, NABET In Jurisdictional Tussle Over Screen Gems Robot
Chicago, April 4. — What’s the union for robots? That's what WBKB here has to find out before it can use one for "personal appearances" this week.
Station is confronted with a new jurisdictional dispute between NABET and IATSE over who's to operate the remote controls, an engineer or a stagehand. The robot in question is one developed by Screen Gems to promote ABC-TV’s “Flintstones.” It's a 300-pound mechanical replica of the character, Fred Flintstone.
“Real Life” cartoon will tour the ABC-TV affils after making its debut on the Chi station.

Her early 45s include cartoon character recordings like Quick Draw McGraw and Huckleberry Hound. A record she cut from the back of a cereal box features The Jackson Five.
“I remember being so excited and I wanted to eat the cereal quickly so I could cut the box to get the record,” Fass recalls. “It really plays.”

Sun: I saw you at the Tucson Festival of Books in 2014 and you told a story about Huckleberry Hound that I loved, because you talked about how you came to own a certain color. Can you share that story here?
Ríos: So, in 1960, I had saved enough box tops and sent away enough to become a member of the Huckleberry Hound Club. I was 8 years old at the time. One day, I got a big envelope in the mail with my name on it. I got it. It was for me. This was mine. A signet ring came out of the envelope, and it was from the Huckleberry Hound Club. And then I found these 8x10 glossies of the gang and there, among them, was Huckleberry Hound. And he was blue! I grew up with a black-and-white television. So, I did not know that he was blue. Maybe if I grew up in the South and I knew what a huckleberry was, I might have figured it out. But I didn’t know. Suddenly, I saw the world differently, and in an extreme way. It shocked me. And I owned it. I owned the color blue.

We had a black-and-white set through the 1960s. Somehow his colour didn’t surprise me when I saw it on TV for the first time. Either I didn’t care about it, or I had seen it somewhere at age five or so in Hanna-Barbera merchandise my dad bought.

To your right, this aging, but presumably still functioning, red Huckleberry Hound teeter-totter (a number of Huck dolls in the ‘50s and early ‘60s were red coloured) is found in the state of Victoria in Australia. In fact, it was the centre-piece and namesake of an art exhibit there in August. Bronwyn Batson of The Australian profiled a photo exhibit by Glenn Sloggett who, as the story puts it, “has been stalking suburbia in search of the neglected, the unloved and the decaying places on the fringes of Australian society.”

What about Huck? Batson’s piece continues:

His work is also in the collection of the Wangaratta Art Gallery in Victoria, and when I visit the gallery I’m shown Huckleberry Hound (2001) by director Dianne Mangan.
Huckleberry Hound is a photograph of ageing playground equipment, sporting a bow tie and wide grin, in Apex Park, Wangaratta. Mangan says that while the photograph has specific meaning for the artist, it also holds meaning for the residents of Wangaratta.
“The play equipment is located in a section of parkland that regularly floods and the locals measure how severe the flood is by the height of the watermark on Huck’s torso,” she says.

Pixie and Dixie and Mr. Jinks was a very popular segment of the Huckleberry Hound Show which was divided into three parts. It followed the humorous adventures of these characters who were always getting into trouble. The dog kept changing jobs: his perseverance and optimism made him continue in his efforts, despite the fact he was something of an anti-hero.

According to the video director Alden Volney, they wanted to “try and recreate the look of a cartoon of the late 60s, more particularly, something that Hanna Barbera could have produced at the time opening with your most basic and naive cartoon premise and taking it to weird places”. For research, he watched “dozens of episodes of Huckleberry Hound and Lippy the Lion”.