World Film and Television Progress (1938)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

desire has been one of the greatest foundations for his success. He was determined to be independent and able to spend whatever he thought necessary on his work. He would not be hampered by studio policies. Still, on September 19th, 1928, Steamboat Willie opened at the Colony Theatre in New York and caused a sensation. The Press were delighted and within a week it had moved to the Roxy Theatre. Even so it was impossible for Disney to make a deal on his own terms, so he decided to release Mickey on the independent market with the help and financial backing of Powers. On his return to Hollywood, Disney decided to strike out on a new line, since both he and Powers were of the opinion that another series besides Mickey's should be produced, and thus the two series could be run in competitive houses. And so the first Silly Symphony was made, and in February, 1929, another Mickey, The Opry House and the first Silly Symphony, The Skeleton Dance, built on a musical theme, the "Danse Macabre", were taken to New York for sound recording. The Opry House, in which Mickey played Rachmaninoff's Prelude on the piano, was quite a success, but the Silly Symphony was not well received by cinema managers, who considered it far too gruesome. In the end it made its debut in a Los Angeles cinema in July, 1929, and it, also, was an immediate success. This led to a booking at the Roxy Theatre in New York, and so by the summer of 1929 the position of both Mickey Mouse and the Silly Symphonies was secure. At the beginning of 1930, Disney allowed Columbia to release his pictures, which they did until the summer of 1932, when they were then released by United Artists. In 1936 Disney signed for release by RKO. After the success of Mickey Mouse and the Silly Symphonies in 1929, everything went smoothly for a year or two. Then Disney got a bee in his bonnet, or so it seemed to his studio staff. Colour began to attract him more and more. He had always wanted to make coloured cartoons, and by 1931 the idea was no longer an impracticable dream. Colour fascinated him. Here again he was not first in the field. The first cartoon in Technicolor (then a two-colour process) appeared in the introductory sequence to The King of Jazz on March 30th, 1930, and the first colour cartoon proper was Ted Eshbaugh's Goofy Goat, a complete cartoon story done in Multicolor and shown for the first time on July 6th, 1931. The studio could not see eye to eye with Disney over this matter of colour. To begin with the cost of colouring cartoons was considerable and there seemed little chance of getting back the original outlay. Secondly the black-and-white cartoons were doing very nicely and extensive bookings had been made. Those who had booked cartoons in advance would probably be indignant if asked to pay more because some were to be made in colour. Thirdly, and most important of all, the studio hadn't the capital. But Disney persisted. The money question, he realised, was the chief problem. Then he thought of a little nest-egg which he had been accumulating against a rainy day. A subsidiary company, formed to market the rights for making Mickey Mouse dolls and toys, had made quite a handsome profit. Here was the money for colour. In the end the studio gave in. If the boss had set his heart on a colour cartoon, then let a colour cartoon be made. It was made, was a Silly Symphony in Technicolor called Flowers and Trees, and was first shown in Hollywood on July 15th, 1932; it still remains one of the best things Disney has done. Nevertheless, it caused no great stir at the time, and although well received there seemed no reason to suppose that the coloured cartoon would in due course supersede the black-and-white entirely. Two more coloured Silly Symphonies followed— King Neptune and Babes in the Wood — ■ and then Disney got another bee in his bonnet. It buzzed and buzzed, and Disney repeatedly put forward his suggestion to the studio, who as often rejected it (for the Disney Studio is essentially run on a communalistic basis, and his ideas are rejected like anyone else's, if the staff do not consider them promising). But Disney could not relinquish this new idea. Once again the staff gave in. If he had really set his heart on making a cartoon about three little pigs, then they might as well make one about three little pigs' and make him happy. Frank Churchill, the studio's chief composer and conductor, since the advent of sound, wrote a little ditty to go with the film called -Who's afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?" It was destined to become the first song hit ever to come from an animated cartoon. Three Little Pigs was made, and had its premiere at Radio City Music Hall in May, 1933. Unlike the first Mickey Mouse, it caused no immediate sensation. The audience laughed, but not immoderately. But then, like a snowball, its popularity began to grow. When it was generally released it seemed to sweep through both America and England. The snowball grew bigger and bigger until it reached truly amazing proportions. People went to see those Three Little Pigs again and again. Everyone began to sing or hum or whistle Frank Churchill's little melody. Dance bands played it all over the world. It made £50,000 in three months and is still being shown and is still making money. In ten years' time cinemas will still be showing it and audiences will still be hugging themselves in delight at the triumph of those three fat and pink little porkers over the villainous wolf. He will still be huffing and puffing and blowing their house down, and the portrait of a string of sausages, labelled "Father", will still be hanging on the wall of the wisest little pig who built his house of bricks. And the other little pig, who had put the mat with "Welcome" written on it outside his front-door, will still have time, al'ter he has taken refuge in his house, to open the door and pointedly take the mat in when chased by the wolf — one of the most glorious gestures the cinema has produced and comparable to Chaplin's flick of his cigarette-end as he goes to prison. What pleasure that little picture must have given to people all over the world! The next step was to produce Mickey Mouse himself in colour (until then it had only been used in the Silly Symphonies), and at the beginning of 1935 the full glory of those red velvet pants and the true magnificence of the pearl buttons burst upon a delighted world. Not that they were at first apparent in his debut in colour, when he was discovered in a long military cloak and high hat, conducting the William Tell overture in The Band Concert, probably the funniest "short" comedy that has ever been made; but once Mickey and his friends had taken the plunge it soon became apparent that the black-andwhite cartoons had served their purpose. In The Clock Cleaners " Mickey Mouse-RKO Radio] 113