William Schallert

Bill Schallert turns 90 today. He’s been one of Hollywood’s busiest character actors for decades, playing easy-going, warm guys in comedies and conscienceless, nasty ones in dramas. But he almost never became a ubiquitous face in the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s because of real-life conscienceless, nasty people.

Schallert is a favourite with many TV audiences in many genres but he wasn’t a favourite with the American Legion in the Blacklist Era. In the early ‘50s, he signed a petition protesting the bullies on the House Un-American Activities Committee coldly destroying the lives of the Hollywood Ten through fear-mongering. Schallert told EqualityOnTrial that the Legion therefore considered him a “red” and threatened MGM with picketing every film he was credited in, even though he was only a day-player.

I once tried to get into a picture called “The Egyptian” where I would play a significant role, and I had contact with a guy who said he’d make a call for me to see if they would test me. And I remember sitting in his office and he mentioned me, and then he stopped and turned to me and says ‘I’m sorry. They say you’re not employable.’...That was like being shot. Apparently that only applied in the case of a couple of the studios and it only applied if I was trying to get a large part.

Fortunately, Schallert continued with stage work and as the red-baiting died, he found more and more work on television. As a regular weekly character, too. He went from four seasons on “Dobie Gillis” into three seasons on “The Patty Duke Show.” He almost had a couple of other series at the same time. His live action/animated comedy “Philbert” never aired, and a sitcom version of “Archie” didn’t ring up a sale. Pilots of both were made.

In honour of Bill’s birthday, let’s give you a couple of newspaper clippings about him. First, a feature piece from the Milwaukee Sentinel of January 3, 1960. Oddly, there’s no mention of Dobie Gillis, unless Schallert thinks of Mr. Pomfitt as “acidulous.”

William Schallert. . .
He Acts His Age—at Last!
“THIS IS MY first time around as a law officer,” says William Schallert, who plays Police Lt. Manny Harris on the Philip Marlowe series (8:30 p.m. Tuesday, WISN-TV).
“I’ve been the victim and the murderer many times but never a police lieutenant. This is more fun,” he declares. “I don’t get eliminated in the first episode and I’ve got a steady job. That’s pretty important when you have a wife and three children.”
Older Roles
For Schallert, 34, the role affords another change of pace. He is playing his own age. An actor since 1947, he has been cast innumerable times in parts which ranged from 50 to 90 years of age. The first time he stepped on-stage as a student at UCLA in 1942, Schallert played Corbaccio, the 85-year-old miser in “Volpone.” “That’s probably what got me started in the oldsters’ direction,” he said, “but it wasn’t too hard to take when I wound up some years later playing the Rev. Davidson opposite June Havoc in ‘Rain’ and Sir Peter Teazle with Marie Windsor in ‘School for Scandal.’”
Started in Stock
A native son of a native son of Los Angeles (Edwin Schallert, the respected, recently-retired drama editor of the Los Angeles Times), young Schallert was graduated from UCLA in 1946. He started acting in the Los Angeles Circle Theater and subsequently appeared in West Coast stock companies and the national company of “The Cocktail Party.” Then he spent a year in England on a Fulbright fellowship to study directing and theater management at the Old Vic, Stratford, and at various repertory theaters throughout the country.
According to Schallert, who is currently seen in the movies “Pillow Talk,” “The Gallant Hours” and “Some Came Running,” this is the heyday of the character actor. “The variety of television parts available is fantastic,” he says. “In the past year, for instance, I have appeared as: An old feuding hillbilly; a vicious prosecuting attorney; an intelligent psychiatrist; a submarine commander; a blind ex-tennis player; a priest; a bartender; a hard-bitten Civil War major; an acidulous high-school teacher; a bowerty bum and now Police Lt. Manny Harris.”
Likes TV
Schallert has a few words for the actors who lament the good old days of stock or vaudeville.
“Television is really better in every way except one,” he said. “First, you are better paid. Working conditions and hours are much improved. You have more time to prepare for your part so you can do a better job and you have the advantage of seeing what you have done. The only lack is the live audience. This is why actors return to the stage as often as possible. It’s like getting a blood transfusion.
Regarding his family and his career, Schallert, who has been married for 10 years, said: “Unlike many actors, I have never worked at anything else even when things were very rough financially. I hated to get distracted . . . Fortunately my wife, Lia Waggner, is an actress, so she went along with the idea . . . And our three boys, aged 9, 7 and 5, had to go along . . . whether they liked it or not.

And here’s un an unbylined interview picked up by the Sandusky Register for its edition of October 28, 1963.

TV Is Not Bill Schallert’s Only Talent; There’s More
There is a man of many talents starring alongside of Patty Duke in ABC-TV’s new comedy, “The Patty Duke Show.” His name is William Schallert and he is seen regularly as the constantly bedeviled father of Patty, Martin Lane.
Bill, along with being recognized as a “solid pro” by those inside the acting profession, is a serious composer, a professional singer, a concert pianist, directs, produces, has lectured on theatre at Oxford University and was a fighter pilot during World War II.
“I guess you might say I’ve never been afraid to take a chance," says Bill when queried about his full life. “But then if I didn't have the right attitude how could I be a freelancer in this uncertain business?”
Bill has been following the road of the free-lance artist since 1951. His credits include featured roles in most of television’s outstanding dramatic programs; co-starring roles in ABC-TV’s “Philip Marlowe,” and “Dobie Gillis;” featured roles in motion pictures and a long list of credits on the legitimate stage.
“When I started UCLA I thought I wanted to be a composer,” Schallert recalls, “but after a bit I suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that I wasn’t really cut out for it. Then I took a crack at singing and playing the piano. They were all fun, but my first role in a campus production of “Volpone” made up my mind for me."
Choosing acting as his profession did not stop Schallert from graduating from UCLA with a B.A.; composing music for a number of professional stage productions; singing professionally with the Roger Wagner Chorale; folk-singing or playing the piano seriously, as he still does when he has the chance.
“At the beginning of my acting career I always felt more comfortable hiding behind elaborate characterizations,” Bill went on. "I did so many old men that I got into the bad habit of clutching at my clothes and pulling my mouth down. I must say it was nice when I finally came complete circle and started playing roles calling for men my own age.
“I’m delighted with my role in the series. It not only gave me a chance to come East, but to work in comedy. Ever since I was a kid I have enjoyed making people laugh. And working with Patty is a ball. She's so charming and such a fine comedienne. Sometimes during a take it's all I can do to keep from laughing on camera."
Schallert, according to Patty, is also no slouch at breaking people up, on or off camera.
“There’s also one more hidden benefit in the role that I’ve refrained from mentioning,” concluded a smiling Schallert. “With four boys at home, it’s quite a treat being father to a daughter. Never know when the extra experience will come in handy.”

Bill Schallert is still working today. He landed a role on “True Blood” and appeared in the mini-series “Bag of Bones.” Read this story from the Los Angeles Times marking his birthday last year.

What’s my favourite Schallert role? Probably as the voice of Milton the Toaster, who sold ‘Pop Tarts’ in the ‘70s. His most interesting may be in the “Philbert” pilot, produced by Warner Bros. Television. ABC picked it up in February 1962 and Variety reported that month that ad agencies had already pencilled it in for broadcast that fall on Sunday nights at 7. But something happened. Schallert explained to the L.A. Times on April 5, 1966:

I did come close to a lead one, though. This was a pilot I made for a series called Filbert [sic]. I played a cartoonist whose little character comes to life and sort of takes over guiding my destinies. The people who created that great
animation for ‘The Pink Panther’ were behind the idea.
However, when they figured production costs would be $75,000 per episode, they decided a top name was needed to assure success. So they gave up the project. For me, it was a hard pill to swallow.

Warners got some use out of it, releasing it to theatres about April 1963 as a featurette. You can watch part of it below and wish a happy birthday to a fine actor.



My thanks to Mark Kausler for getting me the Philbert story.

A Fish!

Wild takes? Not only in Tex Avery cartoons. Shamus Culhane pulled off a great one in “Fish Fry” (1944).

Andy Panda, carrying his pet fish in a bowl, strolls past a mangy alley cat checking out fish remnants in the garbage for dinner. The cat realises what he just saw. The drawings are on twos, except for the second-last one which is held for four frames.









You’ll notice the fourth drawing has an outline of the cat. Outlines were fairly popular in action sequences in Walter Lantz cartoons about this time.

Emery Hawkins and La Verne Harding get the only animation credits here. I don’t know who else worked on this; Don Williams and Les Kline, perhaps? The cat was designed by Art Heinemann. There’s an even more outrageous (and fluid) take later in the cartoon I’ll post in a few weeks.

Yankee Doodle Mouse

A Happy Fourth of July to our American readers today.



The flag-from-fireworks is from “Yankee Doodle Mouse,” a 1943 Tom and Jerry cartoon. It’s an odd exercise in patriotism in that Jerry is obviously a stand-in for the American soldier in World War Two. Tom’s a symbol for the enemy, even though he’s not really a stand-in for the Nazis or Japanese (the only stereotype he becomes is a minstrel show type).

The animation credits on the re-issue version in circulation go to Irv Spence, George Gordon, Ken Muse and Pete Burness. Thad Komorowski’s blog points out Jack Zander worked on it as well, and the re-issue is missing an entire scene on ration stamps. The experts can tell you if Spence animates the opening scene where Tom gets clobbered by a tomato and eggs (aka “hen grenades”).




There’s an admirable piece of animation of the type MGM loved showing off. Tom’s floating in a barrel. Jerry sinks him with a brick. There’s a huge cascade of water that rises up on impact and then washes back down. Whether Al Grandmain did this in the effects department, I don’t know, but it involves some pretty elaborate drawing.



The short was the first of seven Tom and and Jerrys to win the Oscar, handed to producer Fred Quimby for sitting behind a desk in his office.

It Started With a Football

The Planter’s Bank of Rocky Mount, North Carolina was, in 1952, much like any other company. It held a Christmas party for staff members and their families. 150 showed up. And the entertainment for the evening? The local paper revealed it was put on by “Andy and Barbara Griffith, of Chapel Hill, stars of The Lost Colony pageant. They presented a series of skits.”

Next February, the Rocky Mount Annual Fire Department needed entertainment at its 23rd Annual Banquet and Ladies Night. The paper says “The variety show was staged by Andy and Barbara Griffith of Chapel Hill who were assisted by a ‘vocal quartet.’”

And when the North Carolina Automobile Association met in Pinehurst the following May? I see by the paper “convention features will include a welcome from Governor Umstead, the president’s annual message, a one-act play depicting the industry, and entertainment by Andy and Barbara Griffith, well-known Tar Heel performers.”

Yes, it’s the Andy Griffith. The one who’s passed away at the age of 86.

Remarkably, these small-time events were only a few months before Griffith achieved sudden nation-wide fame. Griffith first rose to success, not through his TV work, not even his earlier film work, but through a comedy record. “What It Was, Was Football” was pressed on the Colonial label. It was only one of three records the company made to that time, but caused such a stir in North Carolina, that Capitol won a bidding war for it. Billboard revealed the company paid $5,000 for the master of the recording on December 9, 1953.

How sudden was success? Here’s the Rocky Mount paper again, on January 17, 1954 (spellings have been left intact).

North Carolina’s Master Of The Monologue Assured Of Fame Following TV Appearance
BY AYCOCK BROWN
MANTEO. N. C.-Andy Griffith, the widely known Sir Walter Raleigh of Paul Green’s internationally famous symphonic drama The Lost Colony which will open for its 14th season in the Waterside Theatre here on Roanoke Island, June 26, is skyrocketing to fame for his hilarious monologues that are becoming best sellers on records. Then on Sunday night he was featured on famous Ed Sullivan’s coast-to-coast “Toast of the Town” television show and a million or so listeners and lookers saw the Mt. Airy-born Griffith demonstrate his talents.
Some who saw the TV-show agreed that while the Lost Colony player was tops, he was still not at his very best, as he was here on the Dare coast last summer when as the Sir Walter-bearded star of his self-directed and produced floor shows at the Dare County Shrine Club. The Shrine Club floor shows were events Griffith staged with members of the Lost Colony cast as an added way to make extra money during the summer seasons, and also another way to improve their acting techniques.
His country-boy’s version of Romeo and Juliet, and his role as the preacher in the “Preacher and the Bear” skits had packed patrons in the Shrine Club as the Scandinavians pack sardines into a can. Likewise, his role as Sir Walter Raleigh in The Lost Colony is one of the most colorful parts of the symphonic drama. Griffith has featured on the cover of Lost Colony’s souvenir program for the past three seasons, first with his wife Barbara (formerly Barbara Edwards of Troy) the first North Carolinian tom play the important feminine lead of the show. The following year he was featured alone in a photograph of the first act and last year in full color he appeared again on the souvenir program cover in the Queen’s Garden Scene and was shown as he presented the Elizabethan monarch with the tobacco plant his explorers led by Admirals Barlow and Amadas had brought back to England from Roanoke Island in the New World.
Talent Is Discovered
The man who more or less discovered Griffith was another Lost Colony player, Ainslie Prior of Raleigh and Hollywood. Pryor had played the role of Father Martin, the Lost Colony priest one year and Governor John White the next. In Raleigh he was director of the state capitol famous Little Theatre. Here on Roanoke Island the Griffiths and the Pryor’s were close friends as the 19952 season of Lost Colony was drawing to a close. Pryer began directing and persuading the Griffiths who at the time were teaching school in Goldsboro during the church off-season, to start a show of their own. This they did and with a success that netted them more than teaching.
In the meantime Pryor had ambitions for himself. He was determined to hit Hollywood and did that very thing. Currently he is playing the prosecutor in “The Caine Mutiny,” one of the most talked about productions of its kind on the road today.
Last season (1953) may the last for Griffith in The Lost Colony, but surely not because he would like it that way. His new contracts with Capitol Records and his manager, Orville Campbell of Chapel Hill, the man responsible for Griffith’s sudden rise to fame may not permit him to return to the drama as an actor.
General Manager Dick Jordan of The Lost Colony, who knows quite a bit about show business and contracts was unable to announce this week whether Griffith will be in the show this year. “I surely hope he will be,” said Jordan.

Campbell, incidentally, was the head of Colonial Records.

Fame put Griffith on the road, entertaining at supper clubs in the South at first. Before one appearance, the Biloxi Daily Herald of June 1, 1954, Griffith’s 28th birthday, explained:

With his wife, Barbara, Andy was entertaining at conventions until late in 1952 with a talking skit. One afternoon, he asked to provide a second show but didn’t have enough material. So while he was driving to the convention hall he hit on the idea of a haywire description of a football game. In 45 minutes, he had written a hit.
The record, which contains no music, regards football as “some kindly of a game.”

The paper compared his act to the long-forgotten Herb Shriner’s but, as Griffith put it “with more fanatical fanaticism.”

Griffith went on to far bigger things, thanks to the enormous influence of television on popular culture. “The Andy Griffith Show” has gone just another popular TV comedy to something of the embodiment of a wistful desire to return to a slow, low-key, small town past.

I never saw that past, and many suggest it never existed. But seeing as how a likeable young man from a small town shot to unexpected fame, and brought the spirit of that town to millions in their living rooms, all because of a football, it might be nice to think it did.

Nancy the American Patriot

Nothing swells one’s breast with nationalistic fervour than the effervescent adventures of that loveable cartoon icon, Nancy.

OK, I’ve never been a fan of Ernie Bushmiller’s inky progeny. But on the eve of Independence Day for those of you reading in the U.S., I would be remiss in not mentioning Nancy’s endeavour to further patriotic aims in the war propaganda cartoon “Doing Their Bit” (1942).

Paul Terry seems have been filled with nationalistic fervour himself when he produced this one. For one thing, the notorious cheapskate actually broke down and paid for the rights to use the character. And he’s given Phil Scheib the time to pen an original song. Scheib isn’t exactly Cole Porter, but his song works well within the context of John Foster’s story.



The short involves Nancy and Sluggo engaging in some fairly shady activities to raise money for the USO, which provided entertainment and recreation centres for soldiers during the war. Nancy’s “lemonade” consists of dipping a tired slice of lemon in water straight from an outdoor tap. And Nancy infests a home with mice (this is a Terrytoon after all) then sells the horrified lady of the house a cat. In real life, war profiteering corporations might have approved the less-than-above-board methods but we suspect the USO wouldn’t.

Surprisingly, this Terrytoon doesn’t feature the Terry Splash™ and Terry Brake Squeal™ so dearly loved by cartoon viewers through endless repetition. But like Terry cartoons dating back to the silent era, there are a bunch of characters marching at an angle toward the camera. And being a Terrytoon, Paul Terry keeps on budget by not having his artists drawing those little nubs of hair all over Nancy’s head, like in the comics. What are those things called anyway?



Director Connie Rasinski tries to vary the look of the cartoon a bit. Here’s a shot at an overhead angle as Nancy and her friends cheer over her plan to help the USO.



And there’s one scene where Rasinski simulates a lighting effect with shadows and silhouettes.



1940s New York urban development isn’t my forte, so I can’t say whether the background drawing below is close to representing accuracy.



And there’s a singing, dancing, flag-waving orgasm of patriotism at the end. That’s what war’s about, you know.



To his credit, Foster avoids ugly Japanese stereotypes in this cartoon. Instead, he has a Sluggo bark at a midway-like target range where people toss balls to break dishes that are “Made in Japan.” The scene would probably get cheers today from those who support trade protectionism.

Izzy Klein apparently got the on-screen animation credit on the pre-reissue version. I haven’t a clue who provided the voices; I suspect someone playing juveniles on radio shows out of New York at the time is doing Sluggo.

Northwest Hounded Backgrounds

Time to check out some of the work of background artist Johnny Johnsen for Tex Avery in “Northwest Hounded Police” (1946).






You want to see more? This blog maintained by Brandon Lyon has saved me the work of snipping together some pans.

Doris Singleton

There are few people who appeared in adult roles on the Jack Benny radio show still with us, and Doris Singleton was one until this past week. She died at the age of 92.

Doris picked up the role of Pauline, Mary’s maid, when the Benny show decided to bring it back on February 15, 1948. The character had an interesting evolution. Butterfly McQueen had played Butterfly, Mary’s maid. Columnist Leonard Lyons reported on July 31, 1944:

Butterfly McQueen, the film actress who has been appearing on Jack Benny’s program, will not return to the show next season. Miss McQueen likes working for Benny, receives high pay and says that her experiences with the show have been pleasant ones. She isn’t returning because she refuses to play the role of a maid, feeling that this is a reflection upon her race.

The following season, a new maid named Pauline appeared, portrayed by Pauline Drake (later one of umpteen Miss Duffys on “Duffy’s Tavern;” thanks to Keith Scott for the identification), but she disappeared after a few scattered episodes. Why Benny decided to bring her back more than two years later is a mystery, as is why the audience would believe that Mary could afford a maid if the stingy Benny character grossly underpaid her.

Pauline didn’t stay around long again, but it’s not like Singleton needed the work. She had regular comedy roles on radio with Jack Paar, Alan Young (moving with the show to television) and on “December Bride” (not moving with the show to television). And, on TV, her list of credits is long, appearing with Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Eddie Cantor. Of course, her most famous recurring role was Carolyn Appleby, the competitive, somewhat stuck-up neighbour on “I Love Lucy.”

Doris was quite different than a lot of the women regularly working in supporting roles on network radio comedy. Her characters generally weren’t over the top, not like characters played by the likes of Sara Berner, Elvia Allman or Bea Benaderet. She seemed to get a lot of straight parts and, like most people in radio, moved between drama and comedy (she sang as well).

Profiles of non-starring actors were rare in newspapers, but Doris rated one, a syndicated piece dated June 24, 1952.

Doris Singleton Has Never Repeated 1942 Radio Fluff
By TOM E. DANSON
HOLLYWOOD. Doris Singleton, well known radio actress, and more recently heard on the CBS “December Bride” series, will never forget her radio debut as an actress back in October 1942. Doris told me about the embarrassing incident the other day during a rehearsal. It happened when she was reading a commercial on the [Lux] Radio Theater series. She was to have said: “My very dear friend, Somerset Maugham, says . . .” The actress, with a good case of “jitters,” fouled her line and said: “Monerset Saum”—and then, on her second try, blurted out “Monerham Set!”
Amid the hilarious laughter of the studio audience, William Keighley, the “Radio Theater” producer, answered: “Yes, he must be a VERY dear friend of yours!”
In the years that have gone by since this gigantic "fluff," years in which the actress has appeared on hundreds of coast-to-coast radio programs, Doris has “wood-shedded” diligently, (a term actors use for studying their roles), to make sure that she’d never again duplicate that “Radio Theater” performance!
Doris is a native of Buffalo, N. Y., but has lived most of her life here in Southern California, a graduate of New York City’s American Academy of Dramatic Arts, the actress prepared during 1940-42 for her eventful appearances on "Radio Theater" working as a vocalist with Art Jarrett's orchestra. Having studied classical dancing, Doris made solo appearances with the Ballet Theater Co. in New York and Philadelphia, in addition to somehow working in a season of summer stock in Massachusetts. “Those two years,” Doris told me, “found me doing everything but running a newspaper route!”
She is married to radio writer-producer Charles Isaacs, who for the last season has been handling the Jimmy Durante writing chores. Doris says Charlie is her favorite hobby.

Here’s another column from 1952 where Doris gets a brief mention.

SEVERAL SUFFER PAINFUL OR EMBARRASSING INJURIES
TV Getting Downright Perilous For Comedians
By VIRGINIA MACPHERSON
United Press Hollywood Writer
HOLLYWOOD, Jan. 4 —Ask any top comedian, the television racket is getting downright dangerous.
The customers aren’t throwing tomatoes—yet—but in the past few weeks Ed Wynn. Allan Young [sic], Bob Hope, Jimmy Durante, Martha Raye and Milton Berle have all suffered what turned out to be painful injuries...or some that were so embarrassing it was just as bad.
And the sponsors are getting worried. In the movies they hire stunt men to do the rough stuff for the $5,000-a-week big shots. But in TV the celebrities have to do it themselves.
Want Gags On Film
That’s why everybody's hollering for a chance to put their gags on film.
Charles Issacs and Jack Elinson, two boys who dream up funny things for Jimmy Durante to do on TV, think it’s the only way to keep alive what good comedians there are left. “Jimmy used one gag in a show that scared us stiff,” Isaacs said. “He climbed on a fence, tied a knot in some long underwear and slid down it.
Taped Him Up
“Now, Jimmy’s no Boy Scout. He can’t even tie a very good knot. We begged him to drop the whole thing...but not him. Soooo...he swung out like a sailor, fell six feet and bruised his hip and arm. We had to tape him up for the show.”
On another program the “Schnozz” went long-hair on his fans with a pair of crashing cymbals. Only his aim wasn’t very good. He crashed himself instead. Time out while they stitched up his thumb.
Ed Wynn tried to play “Samson” to Dorothy Lamour’s “Delilah” in a TV skit a while back, stumbled over scenery and broke two bones in his foot.
Bob Hope took on Jack Dempsey for one round of prize-fighting and wound up so winded he couldn’t crack a joke for almost a full minute.
But Allan Young’s really the hard-luck kid of TV. He threw himself into a hot love scene with Doris Singleton during a rehearsal and sprained his neck.
“My own wife,” Isaacs grinned. “But Allan managed to make the show that night. And halfway through the script he fell through a wall and sprained his ankle!”
Breaks Shoulder Strap
Martha Raye was doing pratfalls one night when her shoulder strap broke. She did the rest of her act clutching her neckline.
And last week Berle got squirted with whipped cream and a sack of flour, a gag that turned mighty un-funny when the flour got in his eye and closed it up tight.
“Being hilarious is a terrific risk sometimes,” Elinson says. “And you can’t do a letter-perfect five show anyway. It ought be all on film. . .then for the dangerous stunts you can hire doubles and keep your actors alive for the laughs.”

Doris recorded a three-hour interview about her career with the Archive of American Television. You can watch her talk about her radio career below and check out all six parts HERE.