2D O.D.'d

I put forth the theory that 2D animation died of an overdose.

In the 1990's, 2D feature animation exploded, then imploded.  Where a couple of studios used to release a feature every four years, the triple whammy success of An American Tale, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and The Little Mermaid set the stage for what is now commonly referred to as The Animation Renaissance.

Dozens of new features were given the green light as every studio in town joined the dance. DreamWorks started in 1994 with Jeffrey Katzenburg taking the knife Eisner stuck in his back and shoving it right down Big Mike's throat - to the benefit of the artists. Their salaries doubled, tripled, even quadrupled as the two studios competed for talent.  In betweeners were getting paid upwards of $2700 a week.  Top artists 15 to 20K.

Quasimodo, The Riddler, and Me on a Fire Escape

One thing I love about our business is getting to work with stars of my childhood.  In 1998, it was Frank Gorshin, one of the greatest impressionists of an era chock-a-block with them.  His three impressions of Kirk Douglas - young, middle aged, and old - in The Big Story are sublime.  And of course, he is the only Riddler that counts.

I was coming off Redux Riding Hood and looking for a project.  Sharon Morrill, my boss at Disney TVA, was having trouble with the reels of Hunchback 2 - one of those wretched cash cow direct-to-video sequels.  The script was a paint by numbers dog, the songs Irving Cohen rejects.  But Sharon let me do Redux, she was in a jam, and I'm a loyal sap.  I dove into the Seine after Quasimodo, or in this case, the not quite Seine.

They wanted to recast the villain with a comic actor, someone who could inject some humor into the role.  I suggested Frank Gorshin, and was soon on a jet to New York to record him.  How many times did I see Frank Gorshin on Batman, or The Mike Douglas Show?  And now here he was, waiting for me in an old Manhattan office building.  He shook my hand, and started a conversation, but interrupted himself  "Can I smoke in here?" he asked.

"Balcony." someone said.

Frank invited me to join him, and we walked down a short hallway.  He opened a metal fire door to the 'balcony' - a wrought iron fire escape fifty two stories up. We stepped out, just enough room for two people once you shut the door.   Frank lit up, and there I was, that little kid watching Batman on the floor of the TV room, standing toe to toe, literally, with The Riddler on a rusty fire escape 520 feet above Manhattan. 

Making small talk under these circumstances was a bit challenging.  I remember thinking, "What if he pushed me off this fire escape?"  I knew he wouldn't do it.  Probably not anyway.  But what if he did?  Or what if the wrought iron gave way?  I wonder where we'd land? If someone throws this door open, it could knock me right off.  Oh shit, I'm not saying anything.  Say something.  Don't talk about the Riddler, he might hate that, then you'll have a pissed off Riddler standing close enough to bite your nose off.  He probably wouldn't do that, but just don't mention The Riddler.    

"I used to watch you in The Kopycats." I said, pulling one out of me arse.  His face lit up.  He loved doing that show, though it was only on for one season.  He seemed happy that someone remembered.  Just as we were bonding the door opened, whacking me square in the back.  If not for the monkey grip I had on the rail, this story would have a different ending.  And a different author.  A woman behind the door apologized for nearly killing me and told us they were ready to start the session.

Frank delivered, but Sharon and her toadies were less thrilled.  They somehow thought  he could take their straight, dull, stock villain dialog and create a character as memorable as The Riddler.  When I reminded them that there was: A) No humor in the character as written, and B) Only one four hour recording session to do all his dialog,  I only succeeded in antagonizing them.

Ultimately, Uberboss Eisner's beef was not with Gorshin's performance.  He didn't like the story and didn't like the songs.  Who was to blame?  The guy not invited to the meeting: me.  It wasn't The Riddler who shoved me off the fire escape, it was Quasimodo.

-Steve

Gorshin voices three Kirk Douglas-es in David Toten and Tim Watts' BAFTA winning The Big Story.
A pencil test of the short is below....

Foghorn Leghorn - Porn Star

Write your own caption.

For New Years, I was in Ocean City, Maryland, and had to take a photo of this gem, a local bar and grill  on the main drag. It has been there at least since 1990, when I first visited Ocean City, greeting one and all to come eat and drink at Big Pecker's. Over the years,  I have driven past in the company of my parents as well as my kids, and have always cringed, hoping no one would comment.     But now I have this blog to flog, so I made sure to pull over our Honda Pilot with wife, kids, and two dogs aboard, to take this picture for you all.

Big Pecker's - Foghorn Leghorn.  Get it?  Huh-huh.  It's a vulgarism, see, but the cartoon makes it okay!  Heh heh,  I'm gonna name my family friendly bar and grill that.  Heh heh....folks'll LOVE it!

So, you wanna hear the specials?

Lunch at Maurice's

Maurice Sendak invited me to lunch.  I had been in the running to take over as director of the animated Where the Wild Things Are feature at Universal, which, after many many months of development, Maurice hated. He liked my take on Wild Things, and I had meetings at Universal and phone conversations with Maurice about how to put the project back on-track.  Spike Jonze swooped in and made the film in live action,  but on this day in August of 2002, I found myself driving down a small, windy road to have lunch at his house in Connecticut.

When I arrived, Maurice was a couple of hundred yards from his house, taking his daily walk.   I complimented him on his place - a beautiful bucolic cottage with lush gardens.  Maurice gestured with his cane to some very large nearby homes.  "This was a great place to live until they came around."  he said, slowly shaking his head,  "McMansions!"

He gave me a little tour around the property. The walkway to the back door of the house led us through a rich, floral garden, for which he took no credit.  "People come in and tend to it." he shrugged.  He had an amazing collection of early Disney memorabilia with Mickey and Donald toys from 1930 made of celluloid - very rare.  But what was truly mind-blowing was seeing his drawing table, where he had done so many books, and was working on his latest, Brundibar.  He had a partially complete illustration on the table, and asked me to look through the other pages while he told me the story.  I felt very self-concious, ol' Stevie Moore from a little hick town was now in the presence of artistic royalty.  I flashed back to being in first grade, reading Wild Things in the library, and now here I was with the guy.  Then he asked me what I thought of Brundibar.

Huh?

"It's your masterpiece."  I said, terrified he might think I was laying it on too thick. He didn't.  Even a 73 year-old legend likes to hear his work is good. Brundibar really is a masterpiece, by the way.

A lady magically appeared from the kitchen with salads for lunch.  Maurice and I had a meandering conversation about the business of animation and the business of book publishing - they have a lot of the same problems with management driven creative decisions.  He hated the trend in children's literature where famous people, like Madonna, were publishing books as vanity projects to impress their children.  To Maurice Sendak, they made a mockery of his medium, the implication being that it took no real skill to write for children.  He talked fondly of Ted Geisel, his friend.  Dr. Seuss was probably the only one in his field who Maurice Sendak held above himself.  He called him a genius, then chuckled at how he would taunt Geisel about his drawing ability.

He talked about authors he knew socially, like Kurt Vonnegut, but always felt treated like the kiddie-book guy.  He never really belonged to the club.  Maurice's intellect and wit was as sharp as they come, so he found this social snubbing quite demeaning.

His view of children was quite different from the consensus.  He believed that children were not innocent, that innocence is a quality adults project onto them.  Children had the same flawed character traits as adults, and that childhood was not full of wide-eyed, idyllic magic.

The conversation eventually found its way to Wild Things.  He recalled the animation test done at Disney in the early '80's by John Lasseter and Glen Keane.  He was talking about the same test that me and my CalArts classmates had drooled over twenty years earlier.  Maurice not only disliked it, he hated it.   Beautiful animation and breakthroughs in CG technology aside - the character was not Max.

He recounted how Michael Eisner pressured him to sell the rights to Disney.  Over dinner, Eisner laid on the charm.  At one point, he pulled out a checkbook and tossed it toward Maurice.

"What's this?" Maurice asked.

""You fill it out."  Eisner said.  "Any number you want.  I want  Wild Things."

Maurice had a general distain for pomposity.  But instead of telling Eisner where to endorse the check, he made a proposition.  "I collect Disney memorabilia.  Rare stuff."

Eisner nodded, unsure where this was going.

"Back in the '30's, Walt and Roy Disney owned Duesenbergs with gold plated Mickey Mouse gas caps.  There were only two made.  They are the Holy Grail of Disney collectibles.  Roy Disney has one, the other is in the morgue."

He paused for effect.

"Get me that gas cap and you can have the rights."

Eisner was completely gobsmacked.  "I can't do that!"  he said.

Maurice laughed, turning the knife, "You're Michael Eisner, the most powerful man in Hollywood!  You can't get me a gas cap?"

Eisner's face flushed.  "Okay,"  he said, putting away his checkbook, "I'll see what I can do."

A few days later, Maurice got a message from one of Eisner's secretaries.  He couldn't do it.

Maurice reveled in stories like this, where bully-headed big shots get knocked down a peg.  There was a wounded quality to Maurice that made him appealing even in his most bitter moods.

As happens in our business,when we stopped working together, we gradually lost touch.  I tried to call once in a while, but felt like I was bothering him, even though he was always kind to me and  my wife.   He was one of the good guys, and I'm sorry to see him go.    

-Steve

Jeff Koterba editorial cartoon