Mel Blanc

There are some people who can not be topped. You can paint a picture, but Leonardo painted the Mona Lisa. You can make be a ventriloquist, but Shari Lewis already has put all your talents to shame. This brings me to voice actors. There are no shortage of greats. Charles Adler, who I’m convinced has vocal chords of steel, because he can do voices that hurt one’s throat just by thinking about how many takes he must do. Tara Strong who possesses the title of “Person who can produce the cutest voice.” And Frank Welker, a man who I think has eaten various different animal voice boxes, because I can’t fathom how a human could create pitch perfect growls, grunts, and other guttural bellows.

Then there is Mel Blanc. As fantastic as those other three are, he tops them. He will always be the top of the voice acting pile. You can become a good voice actor. You can be a great voice actor. You can become the most sought after voice actor in the world. But you’ll never be the master. There was only one. And this is his story.

May 30, 1908. Melvin Jerome Blanc was born. Greatness starts small, so one could forgive him for not astounding us the moment he exited the womb. The lad was fascinated by sounds. Specifically, voices. He took to doing some of his own during his childhood years. Also, according to him, his last name was originally “Blank.” But during high school, some dick-douche of a teacher said Mel would forever be like his last name: a blank. (Is it some unspoken law of the universe, that if you are going to be among the best that humanity will ever offer, some jerk off isn’t going to praise you for your talents, but just go on about how you’ll never amount to anything? If this story is true, I’m hoping this teacher felt awful about themselves, and killed their whole family before offing themselves so the gene pool would no longer be contaminated by their asinine actions.)

After school, Mel began working on radio programs. Seems his constant practice had paid off, and he was well known as a man who could supply many different voices. In 1932, he moved to L.A. and met someone her name was Estelle Rosenbaum. Since “Mel and Estelle” has such a nice ring to it, it’s no surprise that the two were wed. They did their own radio show called “Cobweb and Nuts” They didn’t need anybody else’s help with voices. Estelle was plenty capable, so she supplied all female voices, Mel took the males.

Estelle was instrumental in the next part of Mel’s life, and helped make him into the legend he is today. She suggested he go to Warner Bros. and let them make use of his voice. He agreed, seeing as how their cartoons weren’t doing very well at the time, and bland, uninteresting. voices were playing a part in that. Mel did not have an agent. He strolled inside the building and asked to show his stuff. The moron out front would not let him in, stating that they had all the voices they needed. (They only needed -43? I’m impressed.) Mel left. He came back two weeks later. The answer did not change. Don’t worry, the dumb man payed dearly for repeatedly turning away a talking gold mine, as Mel was stubborn enough to come back every two weeks for 2 YEARS! (It makes me wonder if they ever became friends, looking forward to the time that occurred every fortnight.)

Finally, that guy died. (Oh, don’t act you were never glad to hear someone croak.) Mel came in and found not the ordinary guy, but Treg Brown. Treg was a good man and instead of just shoving Mel away, allowed him to perform. Treg was a talented sound man, and he knew that Mel would help make this company’s characters immortal. Mel was introduced to Tex Avery who was in need of a voice for a drunkard. And so in “Picador Porky” Mel made his WB debut.

After this one performance, Mel was given an opportunity any serious voice legend would kill for: The star role of the series. Porky’s original voice of Joe Dougherty had a real stammer and it was too expensive to record him. Plus, it kind of hurts to hear Porky talk in those shorts. He sounds like he is trying to choke himself to death. Mel decided he didn’t want to mess this up, so he went out to a pig farm to get some pointers from the pros. (This man went to hang out with pigs. That alone is worthy of making him one of my heroes) After coming back to the studio, (and bathing. That was an important detour) He told of what he learned. Pigs grunt. If they spoke English, there’d be a lot of grunting involved. Porky’s speech is based on the “oin-oin-oink” our universe’s pigs have.

The first short to have Mel be Porky was “Porky’s Duck Hunt.” As you probably guessed, this short gave another character a chance to be blessed with Mel’s pipes. Daffy made his debut here, and Mel provided him with a voice of his own. Now things were really getting good. Mel wasn’t just voicing for Warners; he also played a part at MGM (he’s grandpa squirrel in Hugh Harman’s magnum opus, “Peace on Earth.”) Walter Lantz studios (being the first voice of Woody Woodpecker and coining his laugh) and even Disney! (He was cast as Gideon the cat in Pinocchio. Sadly, the decision to have the cat be mute was chosen, and even sadder all the dialogue has been lost to time. All that’s left is a hiccup. But it’s a solid hiccup! I’m sure you can’t make one that good on command!)

Naturally, Mel’s most famous role was Bugs Bunny. When told how tough Bugs was, Mel considered the type of voice the rabbit would have. (That’s another thing Mel did. When seeing a character for the first time, he stopped and thought about how they would talk) He considered the two toughest accents he knew: Brooklyn or the Bronx. Why not use both? Also, he suggested the rabbit not say “What’s cookin?” when “What’s up, doc?” was much more entertaining. And craziest of all: Mel was not one to enjoy carrots. It wasn’t just the taste, though. Bite a carrot. How long does it take you to chew it up into an comfortably, swallow-able paste? Too long to put up when recording lines. Yet, the crunch of these root vegetables were essential to the character, and it didn’t matter how many other kinds of produce they tried. Only carrots sound like carrots. Mel didn’t let any stupid thing like that stop him! He took a bite, said the line, then spat the plant out. Every. Time. You can’t deny how many balls that takes. (Because it’s gross. And wasteful)

By this time, Mel and Estelle had been blessed with their own child, Noel. (Who is still alive as I write this, and if he ever happens to read this, let it be known that I’m not above a little butt kissery. Noel, your dad was too good for this Earth! And don’t think I don’t know how talented you are. Being the offspring, you do an amazing job of replicating your father. You rock!) Back on track: Mel went to Leon Schlesinger and asked for a raise. I mean, he WAS pretty important. He deserved a little extra. Leon didn’t comply, but he did do something for Blanc that voice actors had never gotten before: on screen credit. I’d say, in the long run, this was much more rewarding, as now people had no excuse to not know the name. In fact, Mel got the whole credit for the cartoons voices, even if he barely was in it. All those Roadrunner shorts where the only dialogue is Paul Julian going “Meep-meep?” Mel got the credit. (This was only at Warners. Mel had signed a contract that kept him away from other cartoon studios by this point.)

Mel was doing quite well for himself. Not only is he voicing the greatest characters in the world, but he is in several different radio series. (Even his own at one point) It was pretty much impossible to not hear his words. Even more astounding: this man smoked. A pack a day. If you talk to someone who smokes that much, not only does your nose recoil at their stench, but your ears tend to do the same thing when they speak. Mel didn’t have that problem. People listened to him. And loved him. When his parents opened up a fix-it shop, they named it after him and had him visit the crowds. This attracted business like you wouldn’t believe. (They bought things too. They weren’t just wasting Mel’s time.)

If you’re getting sick of me praising the man, you might as well leave as I don’t intend to stop. Instead, I’ll prove his talent. Watch “Rabbit Fire.”  At one point, Daffy pretends to be Bugs. In turn, Bugs pretends to be Daffy. Both of these voices are distinct from their normal selves, and even more astounding, each other. All you budding (and professional if you happen to read this) voice artists, try it. Have one of your characters imitate another one. And they can’t sound the same. It’s freaking impossible. And Mel did it.

Mel had standards. He didn’t like to copy others. When his colleague and friend Arthur Q. Bryan, died, Mel was asked to take over Fudd. He wasn’t happy, but he did voice Elmer for the rest of the toon’s appearances. (If I have to say one thing slightly negative about the voice god, his Elmer isn’t as great as the original. I’ll give him second place. Now don’t ever make me do that again!)

By 1960, his exclusive contract had expired, so he was free to breathe life into other toons. Hanna Barbera took advantage of this, and Mel began voicing many of their characters. Barney Rubble, Cosmo Spacely, Dino, Speed Buggy, Secret Squirrel, and Captain Caveman. (Of course there were more.) In addition, he did some sound effects for the Tom and Jerry shorts that were being made at this time, as well as giving a voice to the first appearance of Toucan Sam. But something else happened this decade. Something terrible.

On January 24, 1961, Mel left to do some more recording that he was so good at. He didn’t arrive. Turns out, he was caught in a car accident. (I’m putting all blame on the other guy, Arthur Rolston. Don’t try and defend him. He wasn’t killed, and for what he did to Mel, that’s unforgivable.) It was not a pretty sight. Nearly every one of Mel’s bones were broken. Worse yet, he was in a coma. And he wouldn’t come out of it. (Another fitting punishment for Rolston. A shame we all shared it.) Finally, one of the doctor’s had a brilliant idea! He asked Bugs if he heard him. Mel responded in Bug’s voice. That’s proof enough for me that Toons exist in some way. Mel was probably going to be pronounced dead, but Bugs saved him.

Mel didn’t die that time, but he did spend the next months doing recordings in a full body cast. Warner’s had tried to get Stan Freberg to do Mel’s work for a time. Stan also had standards, and refused. (Hanna Barbera just had Daws Butler voice Barney. He could have said no, but didn’t. The round goes to Stan)

Even though he was beginning to get on in years, Mel did not stop entertaining. He visited children’s hospitals, answered every bit of fan mail, heck, he would call you up if it was your birthday and wish you a good one as your favorite character. He felt that as long as someone smiled, that was payment enough. Mel was a saint. He’s like if Charlie Brown got the admiration he deserves.

As time went on, Mel eventually had to drop his smoking habit. At age 77, he was diagnosed with emphysema. But you better believe that he did not quit acting! And good thing too, as a new movie was coming out that wouldn’t be as perfect as it ended up being, if it couldn’t have Mel. That was “Who framed Roger Rabbit.”  And I can not think of a better film for him to leave us on.

Sadly it’s true. Even legends can’t live forever. After doing a car commercial with Noel, it was suggested that he visit a doctor as he was coughing an awful lot. While there, it was suggested he stay the night to recover. Things didn’t go as they should have, some dumb bass didn’t put rails on Mel’s bed, and he fell out. Also, it was revealed that he had advanced coronary artery disease. On July 10, 1989, at 81 years old, Mel departed this world and left behind a void that could never be completely filled.

After this happened, a piece of tribute art to Mel was painted. Titled “Speechless,” it shows many of his greatest roles, heads bowed in respect at the loss of an irreplaceable treasure.

I’m proud to say I have one of these.

Mel was buried at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, where he has the most fitting epitaph he could possibly have, “That’s All Folks.” (He had stated that he wanted this in his will.)

Do not weep for the loss of Mel. He knew he would die one day, and never feared death. (Shame that he died before I had the chance to be born. It would have been cool to hear him recording new lines on Cartoon Network.) Mel was a great man who can not and should not ever be replaced. It’s a crying shame that his name no longer is remembered as he once was. But all one has to do is watch some classic cartoons, for about seven minutes at a time, Mel can live again. And while the body may be gone, the spirit isn’t. Rest easy, Mel. You had a wonderful life, and everyone who knew you benefited from it.

Leon Schlesinger

Another nice moment of me meeting someone who appreciated my Looney attire. A girl admired my shirt depicting Bugs as the Sorcerer’s apprentice. She agreed that Looney Tunes and Fantasia are two of mankind’s greatest achievements.

I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ʟɪꜰᴇ.

What do I care? I’m the boss of this place and I get to have my way!

That seems like a good segue into today’s post.

Born in 1884 in Philidelphia, Leon Schlesinger (suh-les-in-jur) would have many different theater jobs as he grew older: usher, actor, even manager. In 1919, (which would put him at about 35) he founded Pacific Title & Art Studio. Most business there was producing title cards for silent films. But silent films didn’t last forever and when they were flat out replaced around 1929/1930 Leon looked to find a new way to capitalize on this newfangled “talking” technology, and therefore, stay in business.

Some believe that Leon helped to finance “The Jazz Singer” and that gave him a connection with Warner Brothers. Regardless of how he ended up with them, he was able to secure a contract with the studio. He was going to produce a brand new series: Looney Tunes. All he needed was some animators. As luck would have it, Universal had just lost two men named Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising. (Such wonderful last names! It had to be fate!) These two wanted to have their own studio where they could make cartoons out of their character: Bosko. Leon gave them that opportunity.

Leon was first and foremost, a businessman. And that meant that he was going to pinch as many pennies as he could. A budget dispute led to his harmonizing cartoonists leaving him for the greener pastures of Van Beuren studios. But Leon would not be deterred. He set up his own studio on the WB lot, and lured animators away from rival studios. Some of which had already left with the Hugh and Rudy. (Bob Clampett for example.) One animator was promoted to oversee production of Looney Tunes as well as develop the sister series: Merrie Melodies. This man’s name was Friz Freleng.

Freleng had definite talent; and the studio got even better with the hiring of today’s legends like Tex Avery, Chuck Jones,  and Frank Tashlin. The final pieces needed to make masterpieces were music director Carl Stalling, and beyond talented voice actor, Mel Blanc. Leon was not involved with the cartoon process. He had only two rules: 1. Put in plenty of jokes. 2. Meet the deadlines. As long as they were successful, he was happy. This led to freedom that wasn’t found at other studios, making Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies a blast to watch.

But Leon’s cheapskate ways continued. Freedom came at a cost, and his animators worked in a studio that one would call: dilapidated. (And that’s the nice way to put it.) In fact, there were plenty of kinda dumb decisions he made. Unionized employees demanding pay raise? Shut the studio down for a while. Disney and MGM seemingly getting preferential treatment at the Academy Awards? Boycott the Oscars. (facepalm) Leon was not an easy man to work with. He was pretty conceited and not very grateful. He had a yacht, and he’d be damned if he was going to let …ugh… employees on it.

The public got to see Leon when he appeared in “You Ought to be in Pictures.” Considering what he was like in his professional career, it is a little jarring to see him seem so jovial and friendly. (Maybe it’s just because he is talking to Porky. Everyone loves Porky. RIGHT?) In later years, he would also have his caricature featured in other cartoons, like “Hollywood Steps Out,”  and “Russian Rhapsody.” (No idea whether or not he was flattered to have his face immortalized in art.)

Leon would remain the head of the studio until 1944. Then, he decided to sell his assets to Warner Bros. But he did continue to market the characters until his death in 1949. Christmas, 1949. (That’s the best day to die, and the worst day to lose someone) With the studio in the W.B.’s hands, Eddie Selzer took his position as producer and would hold the title until his retirement in 1958. If you want to visit Mr. Schlesinger today, he can be found  in the Beth Olam Mausoleum in Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

He may not have been directly involved, but this man was a key player in helping get Looney Tunes their start and allowing them time to make some fantastic animated shorts that would be remembered for years to come. Here’s to you Leon. I’d happily stay off your yacht any day.

June Foray

 June of 1952
June of 1952
 Ain't she a beauty?
Ain’t she a beauty?

Death is kinda cool. It gets rid of people I dislike, provides me with delicious animals to eat, and (when handled carefully) can be a very good punchline in jokes. But every now and then, it goes too far and takes away someone before I’m ready for them to go. June Foray was one of those people. Not only was she a very talented voice actor, but she was the oldest one! Continuing to do amazing work, even though her age kept growing. (That’s one of the perks to voicing an old woman. It gets more authentic)

Born on September 18, 1917 (Yep. She was that close to cracking age 100) was June Lucille Forer. Daugher of Ida and Morris Forer. Like many people, young June had ideas about what she wanted to do with her life, that would end up different. In this case, she wanted to be a dancer. Her mother had her attend local classes, but something happened that caused her to drop out: pneumonia. But at the age of 12, her voice was broadcast on a local radio drama for the first time. In just three years, she was doing regular work as radio voices. But after living in Massachusetts her whole life, she and her family would move after her father fell on hard financial times. Their destination? Los Angeles.

June entered the radio biz through the WBZA Players, and would go on to star in her own radio series in the late 1930s, “Lady Make Believe.” Her popularity grew and soon she was making regular appearances on coast-to-coast network shows. By the 1940s, June began doing some film work. A few live action roles, but mostly doing voice overs. In the Donald Duck short, “Trick or Treat” she played a character named Witch Hazel. Chuck Jones saw that short and was very impressed. He invited her over to be a part of Looney Tunes where she took over for Bea Benaderet as the voice of Granny and Chuck’s own Witch Hazel. Unfortunately, due to Mel’s deal about being the only one to get voice credit, (which I’ll explain more when I blog about him) June didn’t get her credit for those shorts. But she did get some great words of encouragement from Jones: “June Foray is not the female Mel Blanc, Mel Blanc was the male June Foray.” (Nice words to be sure, but I find them debatable. No disrespect Ms. Foray, but Mel will always be the greatest voice actor and no one will ever be able to top him.) June had many famous roles over the years. Cindy Lou Who, Woody Woodpecker’s niece and nephew, Splinter and Knothead, and even playing as the terrifying Talky Tina doll from the “Living Doll” episode of “The Twilight Zone.” But she did have her fair share of not getting roles too. She tried out for Betty Rubble but did not get the part. She was “terribly disappointed.” (And the person who got the part? Bea Benaderet.) But arguably, her most famous role would be that of Rocket J. Squirrel. 

Now all this work would make her one of my heroes easily enough, but June did much more for animation than that. In the 1960s she became devoted to the preservation and promotion of the medium and wrote numerous magazine articles about it. In 1972, having noted that there had been no awards to celebrate animation, she came up with the idea for the Annie Awards. In 1995 (the birth year of a very suave blogger) ASIFA-Hollywood established the June Foray Award. An award that is awarded to “individuals who have made a significant and benevolent or charitable impact on the art and industry of animation.” (June would go on to win the first of these awards) She was also on the Governors’ board of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences. And thanks to her, we got the Academy Award for Best-Animated Feature. Something she had been lobbying for for two decades. (That’s dedicated) At age 94, she became the oldest entertainer to be nominated and win an Emmy. And even in her nineties, she continued to play her various roles.

But unfortunately, on July 26, 2017, Ms. Foray was taken away from us. She had been in declining health ever since an automobile accident in 2015, but I was really hoping to meet her at least once before her time was up. Thanks for everything, June. You’ve been there my entire life, and made many parts of it much more enjoyable. Say hi to my dog in heaven for me, would ya?



Sorry for lack of update last week. I had just got back from a trip to comic-con. Boy was that fun! Getting to dress as Porky never gets old, and five times as many people as last year asked for photos of me. (Special thanks to the one who posed with me) But by far the best part, was meeting Jerry Beck. (Who I did not suggest visiting this place. I was having enough trouble speaking coherently in front of another of my idols.) But he was super nice and even signed my W.B. shield. (Which he specifically signed to me, so you can’t have it.)     

Chuck Jones

Here is another example of the amazing talent Warner Bros. had. Born in 1912, he was the son of an unsuccessful business man. When his father would start up a new business, he would always get some stationary with the new company name on them. When they failed, he told his children to use them up as fast as possible. As such, young Charles got plenty of practice. Good thing too, in an art class later in his life, the professor said that everyone has 100,000 bad drawings in them that they have to get out before they can draw anything worthwhile. (Harsh, but that explains why I can’t draw.) Chuck had no such worry as thanks to all that paper, he was well over the 200,000 mark. After graduating from Chouinard Art Institute, he recieved a call from a friend who had been hired by the Ub Iwerks studio. Starting as a cel washer, he moved up from painter to in-betweener, (the person who draws what comes between the drawings the animators make) He met a cel painter named Dorothy Webster, who would one day become Dorothy Jones. He joined Warner Bros. in 1933 as an assisstant animator, but got promoted to actual animator two years later. He was assigned to work with another man named Tex Avery. They moved into what they called Termite Terrace with other men named Bob Clampett, Sid Suterland, and Virgil Ross. When Frank Tashlin left the studio, Chuck became a director. The man created many characters for the studio. Some not quite well known, (Charlie dog, the three bears, Hubie and Bertie) and some that are considered cartoon legends. (Marvin the Martian, Pepe Le Pew, and Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner) He worked with Dr. Seuss himself, Theodore Geisel on Private Snafu shorts, (and later would help with “How the Grinch stole Christmas”) he did some uncredited work on Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” and wrote the screenplay for the film “Gay Purr-ee” (Animated cats in France? Why does that sound so Disney?) He left Warner Bros. in 1963 and worked for MGM, making some Tom and Jerry shorts until 1967. He continued work on animated TV adaptaions of storis like “Rikki Tikki Tavi”, “The White Seal”, and “Horton hears a Who.” Also producing the “The Phantom Tollbooth” movie.  He even made a cameo in the movie “Gremlins.” His last Looney Tune was 1996’s “From Hare to Eternity” which was a tribute to Friz Freleng, who had died the previous year. (It’s surreal to see Sam being directed by Jones. Yosemite Sam that is, not Sam the sheepdog.) The man died in 2002 due to heart failure, and his ashes were set out to sea. He may be gone, but his work is still higly celebrated. He won the Academy award for best animated short three times. (“For Scent-imental reasons”, “So much for so little”, and “The dot and the line.”) And in “The 50 greatest cartoons”, Numbers 5, 4, 2, and 1 are all shorts he directed. Mr. Jones, I salute you. You were one of the most talented Human beings on this planet.

Frank Tashlin

I’ve been talking about shorts this guy directed for nearly all of 2015, why not talk about the man himself? He was born as Francis Fredrick von Taschlein. Just rolls off the tongure doesn’t it? He was much more well known as Frank Tash and Tish Tash. (Such a cool name.) The poor guy dropped out of high school at 13 and wandered from job to job. He worked on the TerryToons series, and eventually at Van Beuran Studios, but was still a drifter and left that. He came to the WB in 1933. In 1934, he began using his free time to draw a comic strip he titled, “Van Boring.” (Sticking it to the man are we?) He was fired soon after because he refused to give Leon Schlesinger a cut of his comic strip revenues. (Dang Leon, what’s your problem?) So he then went to work for Ub Iwerks and after that, Hal Roach. He returned to the winning team in 1936 and continued to direct shorts. At one point though, he got into an arguement with studio manager Henrey Binder and resigned. It was now 1938 and he went to go work in the story department at Disney. After that, he was the production manager at Columbia Pictures’ Screen Gems animation studio in 1941. He hired many of the ex-Disney staffers who left during the Disney animator’s strike. (They’ll be forever remembered as teh clowns in Dumbo) He went on to launch The Fox and the Crow series, but after that he was fired over an arguement with the Columbia executives. So like a boomerang, he returned to Warner Bros. in 1943. Only three years later, he would leave again, but this time for good. At least McKimson took over his unit. After animation he went on to write gags for the Marx brothers and Lucille Ball. He began directing movies in 1951 starting with Bob Hope film “The lemon drop kid” He would return to animation one more time in the 1960s when he would go to MGM to help produce the animated version of his story, “The Bear that Wasn’t.” He died on May 5, 1972 at the age of 59, after suffering a coronary. He may not have been my favorite director, but he was definately a great one. He shall be missed.

Raymond Scott

Born in Brooklyn by some Russian/Jewish immigrants, was the genius known as Raymond Scott. Influenced by his older brother, he formed a band in 1936. Despite the fact there were 6 of them, he called it a quintette. (It sounded crisper.) Besides, he said that if one called it a sextet, it might take your mind off of music. (Admit it, yours just did.) He called his work “Discriptive Jazz.” It was adored by the public! But the critics were a-holes. They called it “novelty music.” Screw them. This guy was also a firm believer in playing by ear. (I have a friend who does that, maybe now she’ll stop doubting herself) He said, “You give a better performance if you skip the eyes.” Genius. In 1943 he sold the music publishing to WB. This allowed Carl Stalling to adapt anything in the music catalog. Because of this we heard such awesomeness as “Dinner music for a pack of hungry canniblas.” (“Gorilla my dreams”) “In an eighteenth century drawing room.” (“The aristo-cat”) And perhaps his most well known piece, “Powerhouse.” (“Swooner Cronner”,”Baby Bottleneck”,”The great Piggy Bank Robbery”…) Looney Tunes would not be the same without his legendary pieces. We should all be thankful.

Isadore “Friz” Freleng

This guy is a genius. It’s not enought that he directed some kick a** cartoons, but 4 of those won oscars, and 3 of those starred one of his original characters, Sylvester. Freleng was with Warner Bros. for quite a while. (He was the first to direct Porky) and he created some great characters. (such as the aforementioned putty tat) Like yosemite sam. (who was rumored to be based on Freleng himself)

He was the first to pair Sylvester with Tweety and Speedy, and he created Bugs Bunny’s second movie and helped with the third. His legacy will continue on. So to celebrate, lets reminisce about some Tweety/Sylvester cartoons.

Bob Clampett

Looney Tunes had a studio full of talented directors, but my all time favorite was, is and always will be: Bob Clampett. He was described as the nuttiest one of the group, and his cartoons stretched the limits of what not just Looney Tunes, but animation as a medium, could do.

He was the man who created Tweety, (inspired by his nude baby picture) and created the wonderfully surreal, Wackyland. You can probably guess that some of my favorites were directed by him. Including: “Porky in Wackyland” (natch), “The Great Piggybank Robbery,” Baby Bottleneck”, “A Tale of Two Kitties”,  A Gruesome Twosome”, “Wacky Blackout”, “The Bashful Buzzard” “Tortoise Wins by a Hare” and one that I shall be talking about next time.