Warner Brothers Cartoons A.B. (After Bugs)

By the Fifties and Sixties the Golden Age of American Animation had pretty much run its course. The demand for theatrical shorts, whether live action or animated, had decreased considerably. Many theatre owners opted for showing "double features (two features shown back to back)" and dispense with showing any shorts at all. A 1949 Supreme Court decision ended the practice of "block booking," in which the studios would require theatres to buy an entire package set of films (usually including shorts as well as features). And television had taken away much of the cinema's audience.

It was for these reasons that many of the major animation studios would shut down in the Fifties and Sixties. Some of the studios closed even sooner. Columbia closed its Screen Gems studios in 1946(although its name would be revived two years as later for Columbia's television division). MGM, home of Tom, Jerry, and Droopy, would close its animation studio in 1957. UPA ceased production of animated shorts in 1959 to concentrate on television and feature films. Many of the other animation studios would be able to last into the Sixties and even the Seventies. Terrytoons sold out to CBS in 1955, and managed to last until 1968. Paramount ended production of cartoon shorts in 1967. Walter Lantz would continue producing cartoon shorts until 1972.

For what was possibly the greatest animated studio of all time, Warner Brothers' animation unit, the end of the Golden Age of American Animation was a bit more complex. Warner Brothers closed their animation studio in 1963, bringing an end to an illustrious history that involved more animation stars than any other studio: Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Foghorn Leghorn, Marvin the Martian, and so on. Their last short was "Senorella and the Glass Huarache," a parody of Cinderella. This was not the end of Warner Brothers' ties with animation, however, as they would soon be back in the business of releasing animated shorts to theatres.

In an apparent change of heart, in 1964, Warner Brothers contracted the newly founded DePatie-Freleng Enterprises to produce a new series of Looney Tunes. The company had been founded by Warner Brothers alumnus Fritz Freleng and producer David DePatie after Warner had closed their animation studio. Among their achievements was the opening credits to the classic comedy The Pink Panther, which featured an animated panther who was, well, pink. The character proved so popular that he was featured in his own animated, theatrical shorts. They would later create title sequences for the TV shows I Dream of Jeannie, The Wild Wild West and My World and Welcome to It, as well as for the movies Do Not Disturb, The Trouble with Angels, and The Satan Bug (they also provided the titles for nearly every Inspector Clouseau movie ever made). DePatie-Freleng would also produce such theatrical shorts as The Ant and the Aardvark series, the Roland and Ratfink series, and the Tijuana Toads series. They produced such Saturday morning shows as The Super 6, The Houndcats, and Here Comes the Gump.

Sadly, the cartoons that DePatie-Freleng Enterprises produced for Warner Brothers did not measure up to the studio's classic shorts, or even DFE's own cartoons. Bugs Bunny was featured in none of the new shorts (he last appeared in 1964 in the short "False Hare"), which given their quality may have been for the best. This did not mean that the shorts featured none of Warner Brothers' roster of famous cartoon stars. Speedy Gonzalez seemed to have the starring role in more of these shorts than any other. Oddly enough, his adversary in many of these shorts was not Sylvester, his traditional antagonist in the Golden Age of American Animation, but rather Daffy Duck (apparently someone didn't inform DFE that ducks do not prey on mice in nature...). To a degree this mismatch probably doomed the shorts from the start--Speedy and Daffy were certainly no Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. They weren't even Sylvester and Tweety.

Of course, the shorts had bigger problems than that of a poorly paired comedy team. The shorts were plagued by very small budgets, thus limiting what the animators could do. The animation was very limited for theatrical shorts even at that time, comparable to the cartoons then airing on Saturday morning. Perhaps the shorts' biggest shortcoming is that they could often be very formulaic. Many of the shorts simply consisted of the usual chase formulas (as in the Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner cartoons) or oneupmanship formulas (as in the Speedy and Daffy shorts). Worse yet, the cartoons did not open with the classic "Looney Tunes" or "Merrie Melodies" openings. The classic Warner Brothers, titles sequence was replaced with a new, "updated," pop art opening, complete with a rearranged version of "The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down (which many fans have described as, well, annoying...)." The end credits did not feature the classic line "That's all folks!" In the end history would not look well on the cartoons DePatie-Freleng produced for Warner. In his classic history of American animation, Leonard Maltin referred to them as "abysmal." Other fans of Warner Brothers shorts often tend to agree.

Regardless, the shorts were successful enough that Warner Brothers decided to reopen their animation studio in 1967. Alex Lovy (a veteran of Walter Lantz who had worked on Woody Woodpecker and Andy Panda shorts) would be the studio's lead director and William Hendricks the producer. Initially the reopened studio would continue to focus on the team of Speedy Gonzales and Daffy Duck. No less than three such shorts were released in 1967. The new shorts also featured the new titles and end credits. At some point, however, it was decided that the studio should create new, original, up to date characters. Only two more shorts featuring Daffy and Speedy would be released in 1968. After that, the studio concentrated on their new characters.

The first of these characters to appear was Cool Cat, who made in his debut in a short of the same name in 1967. Cool Cat was a tiger who wore a beret and a tie. He spoke like the stereotypical beatnik of the Sixties, his voice provided by Larry Storch (of F Troop fame). His opponent in most the films was big game hunter Colonel Rimfire (whose voice was also provided by Larry Storch). The plots tended to be formulaic, with Colonel Rimfire trying to capture or kill Cool Cat. When Robert McKimson took over as director at Warner Brothers' animation studio, he dropped Rimfire in favour of pitting Cool Cat against a variety of antagonists. Cool Cat was arguably the most successful of the new characters, managing to be featured in six theatrical shorts before the animation studio closed in 1969.

The second new character created by the reopened Warner Brothers animation studio was Merlin the Magic Mouse. He first appeared in the theatrical short of the same name in late 1967. Merlin was a stage magician, assisted by his sidekick Second Banana. In that first cartoon Merlin and Second Banana were voiced by legendary voice actor Daws Butler(perhaps most famous for his work on several Hanna-Barbera cartoons). Afterwards they were voiced by Larry Storch. The character of Merlin was somewhat based upon legendary comedian and film star W. C. Fields. Like the Cool Cat films, Merlin's films were also made somewhat according to formula. One of Merlin's magic tricks would backfire, thus getting Merlin and Second Banana into trouble. Regardless, he was nearly as successful as Cool Cat (which, admittedly, isn't saying too much), appearing in five shorts.

The last of Warner Brothers' new characters to have any kind of staying power (that is, they appeared in more than one short) were Bunny and Claude. The duo were a blatant attempt to capitalise on the movie Bonnie and Clyde, which had been a hit in 1967. They were voiced by Mel Blanc and Pat Woodell. Bunny and Claude were a pair of rabbits, dressed as Thirties era bank robbers, who travelled the countryside stealing carrots. Their opponent was the Southern Sheriff, who was constantly trying to capture the pair. The duo had less success than either Cool Cat or Merlin, appearing in two theatrical shorts.

The studio did make attempts at other new characters, testing them out in one shot cartoons. Among these characters were Flying Ace and Fritz the Red Baron (a pair of WWI fighter pilots), Chimp and Zee (a chimpanzee and a jungle boy who face a big game hunter), and Rapid Rabbit and the Quick Brown Fox (more or less a take off on the Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner cartoons--Rapid Rabbit was successful enough that a series was planned, but aborted when the studio closed again). None of these characters caught on, perhaps because the plots of their one shot shorts were formulaic even compared to the bulk of the animated material Warner Brothers was producing at the time.

Alex Lovy left Warner Brothers in 1968, whereupon the director's chair was taken by Robert McKimson. McKimson had been an animator and director at Warner Brothers during the Golden Age of American Animation. Among other things, he created the definitive appearance of Bugs Bunny (in a picture of Bugs leaning against a tree), and he created Foghorn Leghorn, Speedy Gonzales, and the Tasmanian Devil. Sadly, McKimson has often been dismissed by critics and animation historians alike. At the very least, his work has suffered when compared to that of Chuck Jones, Fritz Freleng, and Tex Avery. That having been said, McKimson was one of Warner Brothers' best artists. Even after many animators at Warner Brothers were following the lead of UPA in using limited animation, McKimson still insisted on detail in his work. And while his shorts may not have been as intellectual as those of either Jones or Freleng, he made up for it with a flair for comedy and slapstick. His Foghorn Leghorn shorts were among the funniest cartoons released by Warner Brothers.

Regardless of McKimson's reputation, his arrival at the reopened Warner Brothers' studio would mean an improvement overall in the theatrical shorts. The cartoons largely became less formulaic, although they would continue being made to formula until the studio closed again in 1969. An example of this in action is what he did with the Cool Cat cartoons. He got rid of Colonel Rimfire and instead gave Cool Cat different opponents. In "Bugged By a Bee" Cool Cat is bothered by a rather pesky insect. In "Injun Trouble" the tiger is plagued by several Native Americans.

Sadly, McKimson's return to the studio would not be enough to save it. The new characters did not catch on. Cool Cat and Merlin the Magic Mouse would continue to appear on Warner Brothers related merchandise into the Seventies and Eighties. Among this merchandise were Pez dispensers, a series of Pepsi collectible drinking glasses, and Dakin figures. The shorts were also released to television in packages that included shorts from Warner Brothers animation studio's better days. Of course, even then, I suspect many kids' reaction to the characters was simply, "Who the heck are they?" Unlike previous Warner Brothers characters, Cool Cat and Merlin the Magic Mouse inspired no comic books, no Big Little Books, and no TV series. They didn't leave much of a lasting impression at the studio. Indeed, they didn't appear in either of the two Looney Tunes, live action feature films.

Perhaps because their new characters failed to catch on, Warner Brothers found their new shorts performing less and less well. As a result the animation studio closed its doors in 1969. They would not reopen until 1980. "Injun Trouble," starring Cool Cat, was the last short they released. As to why the new characters failed to catch on, many animation historians and fans believe that it was perhaps because the characters were too much a product of their times. Cool Cat was a takeoff on beatniks of the Sixties. Bunny and Claude were an attempt to capitalize on the success of Bonnie and Clyde. Merlin the Magic Mouse was perhaps less contemporary--stage magicians more or less being timeless--but he was based to a large degree on W. C. Fields. Unlike the classic Warner Brothers characters, such as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, neither Cool Cat nor Merlin the Magic Mouse could be described as truly timeless. Another reason the new characters may have failed is that to a large degree they resembled many of the characters then featured on Saturday morning television. Both Cool Cat and Merlin the Magic Mouse could have passed for characters created by Hanna-Barbera (albeit without the personality of H-B characters) or DePatie-Freleng.

Some of the new characters would appear from time to time in Warner Brothers cartoons in the Nineties, albeit only in cameos. Cool Cat and Colonel Rimfire managed to put in brief appearances in the TV series Sylvester & Tweety Mysteries and the direct to video release Tweety's High Flying Adventure. And while I may be wrong, I believe that Bunny and Claude also made appearances in Sylvester & Tweety Mysteries as well. Poor Merlin the Magic Mouse seems to have been left out in the cold, as it seems to me that his last appearance on the big screen was in 1969.

The animated shorts released by Warner Brothers from 1964 to 1969 have largely been dismissed by animation fans and historians alike. In fact, it is often not unusual to see both Cool Cat and Merlin the Magic Mouse pop up on various lists of people's "least favourite Warner Brothers cartoon characters." To be fair, however, it must be pointed out that Warner Brothers produced animated theatrical shorts longer than anyone else besides Walter Lantz. And it must be pointed out that the animation studio was provided with an extremely limited budget. In 1967 the average cost of the shorts was approximately $27,000. Keep in mind that in 1953, when a dollar bought a lot more than it did in 1967, the classic "Duck Dodgers in the 24 1/2th Century" cost $24,022! That the animators at Warner Brothers were able to make any animated shorts of any quality at all was remarkable. While they are hardly up to par with the shorts Warner Brothers made in the Golden Age of Animation, the studio should at least be given credit for trying to keep the form alive when other studios had folded.

Director Bob Clark Killed in Car Crash

Director Bob Clark, best known for the holiday classic A Christmas Story, and his son, Ariel Hanrath-Clark, were killed Wednesday when a SUV driven by a drunk drive collided with their vehicle. Bob Clark was 67. His son was only 22.

Clark was born Benjamin Robert Clark in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida on August 5, 1941. He attended Catawba College in North Carolina, where he majored in philosophy, before winning a football scholarship to Hillsdale College in Michigan. Eventually, he attended the University of Miami where he majored in theatre. He could have a professional football career, but turned down all offers for such.

Bob Clark began his film career with a low budget exploitation film called She-Man released in 1967. Clark switched gears and started directing in the horror genre, with the films Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things (hippies battle the undead) in 1972, Dead of Night (AKA Deathdream) in 1974, and Black Christmas released that same year. It was in the latter two films that Clark began to display some talent. In fact, Black Christmas (a pre-Halloween holiday themed, slasher movie) is considered by some a classic by some.

Over the next several years Clark's talent would not always be obvious in the movies he directed. Some, such as Murder by Decree (in which Sherlock Holmes matches wits with Jack the Ripper), were quite so good. Others, such as Porky's and its sequel Porky's II: the Next Day, were low points in movie making. Regardless, Clark directed an unabashed classic with A Christmas Story, released in 1983. While it did not perform well in its initial release at the box office, A Christmas Story became a holiday favourite after repeated showing on HBO and other premium channels. Sadly, Clark would never match the quality he achieved with A Christmas Story again. Indeed, many of his films would be closer to Porky's in quality. From the Hip, Rhinestone, Loose Cannons, and Baby Geninuses were as abominably bad as A Christmas Story was amazingly good. This is not to say Bob Clark was no longer capable of making good movies. I'll Remember April, released in 1999, was a touching portrait of young boys who find a Japanese soldier in the days of World War II. His film adaptation of Arthur Miller's The American Clock was enjoyable. Clark was capable of making truly great films and even simply good films, despite what many critics might have sometimes otherwise believed.

Bob Clark certainly had a chequered career. Few directors could be attributed with having made unabashed classics and near classics (Black Christmas, A Christmas Story, and Murder by Decree) and movies generally considered abominably bad (Loose Cannons, Baby Geninuses, and Rhinestone). It was the truly good films he made that I would like to remember Clark for. While he did direct those awful Porky's movies, he also directed two of my favourite movies of all time: A Christmas Story and Murder by Decree. There are many directors who cannot say this (Michael Bay is one of them). If Clark is remembered, then, in my mind it should be as the director of A Christmas Story and not the many bad movies he made.

Pre-Movie Commercials

It has probably happened to everyone who has recently attended a cinema. They get their tickets, swing by the concession stand, and then take their seats, eagerly anticipating for the feature to start. In the old days they might have to sit through a few movie trailers. Before that they might be might be treated to a newsreel and a cartoon in addition to the trailers. In the past few years, however, they have probably had to sit through several commercials.

To a degree a link between movies and advertising has always existed. In vaudeville, the predecessor to modern day cinema, advertisements for local businesses would often be featured on the "olio drop," the back curtain of the stage. From the Silent era onwards many theatres would show slides, which often featured ads for local businesses as well as the usual admonitions to be quiet during the feature and not to smoke in the auditorium. Trailers, which are essentially "commercials" for other movies, have existed in some form or another since 1912. But in the Eighties there arose a whole new phenomenon. It was in that decade that theatres started commercials, of the sort one might see on television, before the movies. It was around 1985 that Cineplex Odeon became the first national Canadian cinema chain to start regularly showing commercials before movies. Even then, at Cineplex Odeon only one or two commercials would be shown before any given feature. I'm not sure what the first American theatre chain to start showing pre-movie commercials was, but I know it was probably around the same time.

Since the number of commercials shown before movies has increased dramatically. Where Cineplex Odeon once only allowed one or two commercials to be shown before features, it now allows a whopping four minutes. Things are no better here in the States. At our local theatre we are fortunate in that there are at most only two commercials before any given feature. Sadly, that is not true of theatres in Columbia, where one might be subjected to as many as three or four. Sadly, pre-movie commercials have become so common that in 2003 an organisation was founded to promote such pre-movie ads: the Cinema Advertising Council.

Of course, pre-movie commercials have always had their share of detractors. In 1998 Ralph Nader and the organisation called Commercial Alert started campaigning against commercials, going so far as trying to persuade lawmakers to pass bills in which theatres would have to post the actual start times of movies. There have also sprang up a number of web sites against pre-movie commercials, such as Captive Motion Picture Audience of America. Bad Ads, which keeps an eye on advertisements in general, has a web page dedicated to pre-movie commercials. Some have taken their hatred for pre-movie commercials even farther. In Chicago in 2003 at least two lawsuits were filed, in which it was charged that theatres are engaging in fraud when they do not post the actual start time of movies. There have also been instances of legislation being introduced (in Connecticut and New York City) that would force cinemas to post when movies actually start. I have no idea if any of this legislation actually passed, but it is a mark of how much people hate pre-movie commercials that it was proposed at all.

None of this is surprising to me. While everyone I know appreciates the movie trailers that are shown before features, I know of no one who likes pre-movie commercials. That is why I am a bit puzzled by a recent Arbitron study which claimed that 68% of frequent movie goers (defined by the study as people who have gone to the movies at least five movies in the past three months) found pre-movie commercials "acceptable." Teenagers apparently find pre-movie commercials more acceptable than other age groups--74% of those in the study had no problem with pre-movie commercials. Given the fact that most of my friends tend to be frequent movie goers and that none of us like pre-movie commercials, I have to wonder if Arbitron's study was not somehow flawed.

While most people seem to hate pre-movie commercials, it seems that neither the theatre nor the advertising agency is eager to give up on them. Indeed, many of the major theatre chains will argue that the ads are an important source of revenue for theatres. But the fact is that in 2003 alone, pre-movie commercials accounted for only 3.5% of all box office revenue. I rather suspect that concession stands bring in more. Of course, it is obvious why the advertising industry would favour pre-movie commercials--it is yet another source of income for them.

There was a time when going to the movies was an event (for those interested in what going to the movies was like in the old days, go to A Night at the Movies). One might see a newsreel, a cartoon short, a live action short, and, of course, trailers before the main feature. Sadly, cartoon shorts and live action shorts disappeared from cinemas long ago. Commercials are hardly a replacement. Most movie viewers I know resent having to sit through these commercials even before the trailers are shown--they are not like television commercials where one can mute the TV set, switch channels, and walk out of the room. Furthermore, they make it difficult to know when a movie actually starts. In the old days I could gauge how much time I would have before a movie actually starts by the average number of trailers the local theatres would show before movies. With the advent of pre-movie commercials, it has become a lot more difficult to figure out when movies actually begin. Despite Arbitron's study (which I believe was flawed) and despite their prevalence in cinemas all over the place, I think it is time for pre-movie commercials to end.

Exclusive Preview of the Climax to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Through means I won't disclose here, I have gotten access to a special, sneak preview of the dramatic climax to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the seventh and final book in the series about the boy wizard. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be published July 21 of this year, with an unprecedented print run of 12 million copies here in the United States alone. Anyhow, without further ado, here is the special, sneak preview...
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Voldemort stood over Harry as he clung precariously to the cliff's edge. Around them a storm raged. Lightning forked the sky and the wind blew so loudly that it was difficult for either of them to hear. Regardless, Voldemort smiled and said loudly enough for Harry to hear, "Potter, there is no escape. Don't make me destroy you. You do not yet realise your importance. You have only begun to discover your power.Join me and I will continue teaching you. With our combined strength, we can rule the world."

Harry shook his head furiously in disbelief at what he was hearing. "I'll never join you!"

Voldemort laughed. "If you only knew the power of the Dark Arts. Dumbledore never told you what happened to your father."

Harry yelled. "He told me enough! He told me you murdered my mother and father!"

The wind abruptly increased to the point that Harry thought it might sweep him from the cliff. Thunder rang through the air and there was a bright flash of lightning. Voldemort's smile grew wider and he laughed again. "No. I am your father."

A look of sheer terror came over Harry's face. "No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!"

Voldemort replied, "Search your feelings, Potter. You know it to be true."
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I hope you enjoyed this special, sneak preview. I only have one more thing to add--if you really believe this is a special sneak preview of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, well, then, "April Fool's!'

Reruns

In the movie Back to the Future, Marty McFly (who travelled back in time from the Eighties to the Fifties) remarks to his mother's family that he must have seen a then brand new episode of The Honeymooners "on a rerun." His mother's father (and future grandfather) replies, "What's a rerun?" In reality this is a bit of an anachronism. Even in 1955, almost everyone would know what a rerun was.

That is not to say that reruns had been around for a long time in 1955. On radio, reruns were not unknown, but they were very, very uncommon. Much of this was due to limitations in the technology of the time. Until the development of magnetic tape, radios shows would have to be recorded on expensive and fragile 16 inch discs. When magnetic tape was introduced in the late Forties, television was just starting to take away radio's audience. Reruns were then a rarity in the Golden Age of Radio.

This certainly would not be the case with television, although it took some time before the practice of repeating shows would become commonplace. In its infancy, most programming on television was aired live. The reasons for this were purely economic. Filming was more expensive than simply airing shows live (videotape would not be available until later). It must be added that film would have also meant that the networks would have had to dealt with Hollywood, who at that time regarded television as a bitter rival. Before reruns could become common, filmed TV series would have to become the dominant source of programming on television.

The move towards filmed TV series would happen gradually, over many years. Among the pioneers in the field was Frederick Ziv. Ziv had seen some success in radio syndication, and in 1949 decided to expand into television. Naturally, to be syndicated to various local stations across the country, the shows produced by Ziv would have to be filmed. Since the shows were filmed, they could easily be rerun. And Ziv Television Productions reaped nearly all of its profits from reruns.

This is not to say that Frederick Ziv was the only television producer aware of the advantages of film. The first filmed network series was Fireside Theatre, which debuted in 1949 (a full two years before I Love Lucy). A year later saw the debut of You Bet Your Life, the legendary game show hosted by Groucho Marx. The series was filmed, allowing for two things. The first was the ability of the producers to edit out any of Groucho's more risque comments. The second was that the show could be rerun. Indeed, You Bet Your Life is one of the earliest, if not possibly the earliest, American network TV show to be repeated during the summer months. In the early days of television, when TV shows went off the air for the summer, their time slots would be taken by summer replacement shows. As the Fifties passed and more series were shot on film, summers would increasingly become dominated by summer reruns. By 1956, summer repeats outnumbered original programming by a large margin.

As much as some people might complain about summer reruns, there have actually been shows that have been saved by them. When it debuted mid-season on CBS, All in the Family initially did poorly in the ratings. It would not become a hit until it was rerun in the summer. During its first season, the ratings for Cheers were so low that NBC nearly cancelled the show. Fortunately, its ratings rose dramatically during the summer rerun season. As much as many might dislike summer reruns, they can save shows that sometimes deserve to be saved.

Regardless, the dominance of filmed series would be assured with the success of Amos and Andy and I Love Lucy. Debuting a few months before I Love Lucy, the television adaptation of the notorious radio show actually predates I Love Lucy in using the multicamera setup. Protests from the NAACP would force CBS to cancel the series, still enormously popular, two years into its run. The NAACP would not keep the series off the air, however, as in 1953 CBS would make its 78 episodes available to local stations (it would remain in syndication until 1966, when CBS finally bowed to public pressure and withdrew it). In other words, Amos and Andy became the first syndicated, network rerun in the history of American television. It would not be the last. My Little Margie and other filmed sitcoms would soon enter the syndication market. These shows, like the majority of syndicated, network reruns to follow, would be "stripped" on local stations--that is, scheduled to air five days a week (Monday through Friday).

The advent of syndicated network reruns would have a profound effect on television. Indeed, it put a serious dent in the market for original syndicated programming. In 1955 Ziv Television Productions was the biggest independent producer of programming in the United States. By 1959 the company was in such dire straits that Frederick Ziv sold the company to United Artists. Syndicated reruns would also prove to be a boon to the independent stations which sprang up in the Sixties and Seventies. I remember the programing of both KPLR in St. Louis and KMBA in Kansas City consisted largely of network reruns--everything from Gilligan's Island to The Beverly Hillbillies to The Wild Wild West to Star Trek.

With filmed series coming to dominate television and the success of reruns syndicated to local stations, it would not be long before the networks would begin using reruns not simply as filler during the summer months, but as programming during the day time as well. NBC was the first network to do so, debuting an umbrella title they called Comedy Time, under which they reran various sitcoms which had gone off the air. It debuted May 14, 1956, with I Married Joan as its first series. Running until 1958, such shows as Topper, Private Secretary, and It's a Great Life aired under the title. In 1957, CBS started rerunning I Love Lucy on its daytime schedule, where it stayed for eight years. From the Sixties into the Nineties, the networks would fill blank spots in their schedules with reruns of sitcoms (some of them still on the air). Over the years I can remember watching reruns of The Andy Griffith Show, The Beverly Hillbillies, Bewitched, M*A*S*H, and several other sitcoms on daytime network television. As the networks cut back on their daytime programming, such reruns disappeared.

Of course, as time has passed the number of reruns on television has increased dramatically. In the Fifties, a full season of a filmed series might consist of as many as 39 episodes, with 13 weeks in the summer devoted to reruns. By the Sixties this number had dropped considerably. In their first seasons Bewitched and Gilligan's Island had only 36 episodes each. In its first season Star Trek only had 29. The number of episodes produced for a given series would decrease even more in the Seventies and Eighties. Now it is not unusual for a show to have as few as 22 episodes produced per season. As a result of fewer new episodes being made each season, there are naturally more reruns to fill the gaps. In the Sixties it was rare to see reruns of an ongoing series prior to the summer. By the Seventies it was not uncommon to see them in December and January. Now it sometimes seems as if there are more reruns aired in a season than original episodes.

It must also be pointed out that the market for reruns has changed dramatically. Independent stations were slowly shoved out by the rise of new networks (Fox, UPN, the WB), but their place has largely been taken by cable channels. Since their inception, such cable channels as the USA Network, TBS, and TNT largely depended on reruns for much of their programming. There is even still a market for older TV series. Nickelodeon started showing reruns of classic TV shows at night under the heading "Nick at Nite" in 1985. It has been around ever since. Indeed, it was so successful that it spun off another cable channel dedicated entirely to reruns of classic shows. Started in 1996, TV Land is among the most successful cable channels around. And it is not alone. The AmericanLife TV Network (originally The Nostalgia Channel, and later GoodLife TV) consists of reruns of such shows as The Man From U.N.C.L.E., F Troop, Harry O, and Kung Fu.

Syndicated network reruns have not only given shows that were successful in their initial runs a second life, but even shows that were not so successful. Some have even had more success in off-network syndicated reruns than they ever had in their initial runs. I Dream of Jeannie was only moderately successful in its first run on NBC, but became one of the most successful sitcoms in syndication of all time. Although now considered a classic, The Odd Couple suffered from low ratings throughout its five year run, but it went onto a very successful syndication run. Perhaps the perfect example of a show given new life through off network reruns is Star Trek. The series suffered from low ratings throughout its three year run (during its most successful season, its first, it only ranked #52 out of all the shows on the air for the year) and was nearly cancelled more than once. Once its reruns were in syndication, however, Star Trek became an outright phenomenon.

Reruns have existed for over fifty years. And there can be little doubt that they will continue to exist as long as there is television. And while many might complain about the reruns that air on the networks throughout the television season, it must be pointed out that modern American pop culture is largely indebted to them. Without reruns, Gilligan's Island would not still be airing today. We could not tune in to TV Land to watch The Addams Family. And Star Trek may well have been forgotten.

Some Good News For Geeks

Given how depressing my past few days have been, I thought it might be a good idea to talk about two bits of good news for all the geeks out there. The first is that Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson (who play Harry, Ron, and Hermione, respectively) have signed on to have signed on to play their roles in the final Harry Potter films, clear up through Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (which will be published July 21 of this year. While I realise that there are some who migh believe the three could be too old for their roles, personally I couldn't see anyone else in the parts. For more on this story, you can go to "Potter" stars set for more wizardry.

In other news, a new novel by J. R. R. Tolkien will be published next month, on April 17. The Children of Hurin was begun in 1918. And while Tolkien revised it several time, he left it unfinished at the time of his death. Christopher Tolkien, son of J. R. R. Tolkien, completed the book using the various draughts his father had written over the years. The book will feature illustrations by Alan Lee, who had also illustrated The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. He was also one of the concept artists on Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films. It is the first new Tolkien work to be published since The Silmarillion in 1977. The basic story of The Children of Hurin was briefly related in that book. Anyhow, you can read the story here: New Tolkien book to be published next month: report.

Monster 2001-2007

I feel like I have to apologise for yet another obituary in this blog. And I feel as if I have to apologise as I am sure that the vast majority of you have never heard of the individual who died and he had nothing in particular to do with pop culture (the central theme of this blog). But he was very important to me and has been central to my life the past few years. To wit, my cat Monster died last night at the age of six. Given the fact that heart disease tends to run in Maine Coons and his symptoms fit that of a heart attack, I believe that he died of cardiac arrest. Unfortunately, no veterinarians were open last night, not that I am sure he could have been saved anyhow.

I adopted Monster when he was all of six weeks old from a family friend. Her cat, a pure breed Maine Coon, had given birth to a small litter of kittens and she was giving them away. We chose the only male out of the litter (which was only three kittens), a cute, little bundle of yellow fluff. We believe that Monster's father may have been a pure breed Maine Coon as well. I remember when we took him home. I had to hold him all the way in the car; he was meowing loudly, no doubt distressed at being separated from his mother and sisters. He was a very loving kitten from the beginning. In fact, he wanted to sleep me that very night, but my old cat Patches wouldn't let him.

Monster was a rambunctious kitten, always getting into everything. That was the reason for his name--he behaved like a "little Monster." I remember that he tormented old Patches to no end, although I think she really didn't mind the attention. I also remember that as a very young kitten he had fleas so bad that for awhile we worried that we might lose him. Fortunately, we found a flea and worm treatment that restored him to health.

And Monster was a fairly healthy cat. He grew up to be about 20 to 25 pounds. He loved to play to the very end. He would play with our other cats. Oddly enough, he did not care much for expensive toys--his favourite thing to play with was the strip from old milk jugs. He was also fairly intelligent. He house broke himself, although he preferred to use the great outdoors to the litter pan. We had to do his business, he would scratch at the door like a dog.

Monster was also a very loving cat, perhaps the most loving cat we have ever had. He liked to curl up on us and be petted. And oddly enough for a cat his size, he liked to be picked up and carried around. He would sleep with us frequently. The entire neighbourhood loved Monster. He would visit them and let them pet him and play with him. In fact, the neighbourhood is taking his passing as badly as if he had been a human being, perhaps more so.

Even as he got older, Monster remained a very loving cat and a cat who enjoyed playing. In fact, it is hard to believe he was gone. Just last week he was playing with the younger cats. Yesterday morning he played with my youngest niece. Age did not seem to slow him down much.

At any rate, I cannot describe the pain I feel right now. It might seem silly to some of you, but I fear I am mourning Monster's death more than many human beings I have known. I feel in many ways like someone has just taken a part of me and ripped it from me. Right now I would give anything to hold him and pet him and hear him purr once more. I know I will always miss Monster.