Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera: Animated-Television’s Elite Pioneers

The arrival of television and its increasing availability to the general public during the 1950s had a negative effect on the film industry. As late as 1954, all the major film companies still considered television to be an inferior and second rate medium. Most studio executives, including Walt Disney and Jack Warner (of Warner Brothers), felt that if Hollywood did not supply television with quality material it would soon disappear due to its own mediocrity. But the tough times that these and other studios were experiencing in the mid to late 1950’s were, in fact, caused in part by the growing success of television. No one was sure if television had a future or not, but it was now a threat. If television did have a future, what did that future hold and where would it go? Disney, desperately needing capital, saw the potential millions that television could offer as a way to get his “Disneyland” project off the ground and give his Disney Studios the true financial stability it had never enjoyed. By giving the upstart ABC network Mickey Mouse and a weekly television show in 1954 in exchange for the enormous funding required to begin the construction of Disneyland, Disney, perhaps unwittingly, helped make ABC a major network and gave television a legitimacy and respectability it had never before enjoyed (Mosley 233).

Whereas Walt Disney saw and used television as a way to obtain the large amount of funding he needed to move his company in new directions, Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera, two young animators from MGM’s defunct cartoon studio, saw television as a new and exciting opportunity to keep their promising careers alive. While Disney’s hugely successful future projects would be dominated by theme parks, live-action films, television, and less and less animation, Hanna and Barbera would transform the full- animation process into a feasible and economical system that would make animation for television a viable, money-making business and respected art form.

Hanna and Barbera first came together in 1938 while working in MGM’s cartoon department. Both soon realized they worked well as a team and were stronger together than apart. Bill remembers Joe as being the best cartoonist he had ever seen and Joe recalls being attracted to Bill’s keen sense of comedy timing and his wide range of talents (Diehl 71). With the MGM cartoon department struggling, Hanna and Barbera decided to work up something on their own. After many attempts at creating original characters, they settled on “two universally recognized antagonists: the cat and the mouse” (Sennett 13). Tom and Jerry were born, and in “Puss Gets The Boot” (1940), their first cartoon, the theme of “cat stalks and chases mouse in a frenzy of mayhem and slapstick violence” is firmly established (15). MGM’s executives hated the cartoon, but it was tremendously popular with the public and was even nominated for an Academy Award in 1940.

The strong appeal of Tom and Jerry and the joy they brought to their audience during the 1940s and 50s was largely due to the high degree of quality maintained from 1940 to 1957. Barbera believes that the consistent high quality was a result of his and Bill’s involvement in every phase of the production process (21). Ray Patterson, a longtime member of the Hanna-Barbera staff, remembers that “infinite care was taken with each cartoon . . . and personality was put into the characters” (22). This personality was achieved with full-animation techniques that allowed Tom and Jerry to have realistic movement and show a wide range of emotion through physical and facial expressions. Ted Sennett, author of The Art of Hanna-Barbera, writes that the “good guy-bad guy” theme and the escalating violence of the antics contributed to the series’ popularity (21). He believes too that viewers could sense Tom and Jerry’s high regard for one another, that they knew Tom did not really want to hurt Jerry and that Jerry wanted and needed Tom around (21).

Seven Tom and Jerry cartoons won Academy Awards during their seventeen years of production, including such classics as “Mouse in Manhattan” (1944), “The Cat Concerto” (1947), and “The Two Mouseketeers” (1951). The qualities that made Tom and Jerry great are still evident and still impress today. The experience and technique acquired during these years proved invaluable, serving Hanna and Barbera well throughout their career.

By 1957, with seventeen years of successful Tom and Jerry cartoons behind them, Hanna and Barbera felt they had achieved a somewhat secure position at MGM. They were respected throughout the industry for their work and had confidence and talent that could only take them higher. But the film industry as a whole was experiencing tough times financially, and MGM felt that closing their cartoon studio would save money. By reissuing the old Tom and Jerry cartoons, MGM captured 90 percent of the business of new cartoons without any new costs (Diehl 73). Hanna and Barbera were taken by surprise when MGM closed the cartoon studio in 1957, feeling as if a “whole career had disappeared” (Sennett 45). Hanna remembers that after their initial shock, he and Joe immediately began developing new characters. They were confident they could create another quality product even though they had nowhere to take it once it was completed (45).

The lull in the film industry that had cost Hanna and Barbera their jobs at MGM was caused in part by the growth of television. Always looking for new concepts and programs, television’s major studios had considered producing cartoons for television but routinely dismissed the idea as being too expensive. It was estimated that the cost of producing cartoons for television would be equal to the cost of producing theatrical cartoons, so the idea was never taken seriously. Hanna and Barbera disagreed with this popular line of thought, however, and cautiously presented their newest characters, a dog named Ruff and a cat named Reddy, to several companies in late 1957. Predictably, their ideas were rejected again and again as being “unworkable and uneconomical” (47). Fortunately, John Mitchell, head of sales for Screen Gems, Columbia’s television division, believed that animation could be done on television and instructed Hanna and Barbera to produce a five minute test segment of Ruff and Reddy (47). Columbia did not like the show or the concept behind it, but NBC suddenly changed its mind and decided to take a chance on the show and give it try. Ruff and Reddy premiered in December of 1957, along with 30 minutes of old cartoons, taking its place as Hanna and Barbera’s first animated program for TV and the first original cartoon series made solely for television (Beckerman).

What made animation for television possible was the use of “limited” or “planned” animation. With this technique, only certain simplified movements are animated. These movements are then coded and used in cycles, along with simplified backgrounds which are used for entire sequences. The characters have stiffer, less-lifelike motion than with full-animation, but fewer drawings are needed to complete a cartoon (Mariani 28). The time saving advantages of limited animation made it possible to produce an animated product for television that could meet strict deadlines on a weekly basis. Hanna and Barbera did not invent limited animation — it had existed in a very primitive and rarely used form during the silent era of cartoons — but they were pioneers in the sense that they recognized its potential and worked, experimented, and refined the process, making it a feasible and practical method for getting animation onto television.

To make up for the loss of lifelike quality and movement, character voices were now given more attention. Barbera says, “Voices make or break your show. If you can’t smile when you hear that voice, then you haven’t got a hit” (Diehl 71). The voices of Ruff and Reddy were provided by Don Messik and Daws Butler, respectively, and gave the characters added life and depth (Sennett 49). Messik and Butler would supply a staggering number and variety of voices for Hanna-Barbera’s characters over the next three decades, making them an integral part of Hanna and Barbera’s success. (Daws Butler died in 1988, but at present Don Messik is still voicing cartoons.) Ruff and Reddy was originally done in color. Although shown in black and white the first two seasons, Hanna and Barbera had anticipated the coming of color television which, when it did arrive in 1959, gave Ruff and Reddy a vibrant new dimension (51).

Ruff and Reddy may not be as familiar or as memorable as many of Hanna and Barbera’s other characters, but they were extremely successful during their original run and proved that low-cost animation for television was possible and could please and entertain an audience of children.

With everything now falling into place, Hanna and Barbera and their growing staff, which consisted of castoffs from major studios, including Disney, worked to create new characters for their next project, an all animated half-hour of television. The major character developed for this new program was Huckleberry Hound, a cheerful-but-not-too-intelligent dog inspired by the slow Southern drawl that Daws Butler was frequently heard doing around the studio. The Huckleberry Hound Show debuted in October of 1958 and was an instant success. Each week Huck “ambled, unruffled and oblivious, from one disastrous situation to another,” endearing himself to viewers along the way and becoming, arguably, the first cartoon superstar (52). When The Huckleberry Hound Show became the first animated cartoon series to win an Emmy in 1959 for outstanding achievement in children’s programming, many critics noted the faithfulness to the art of slapstick and the rejection of standard formulas so often used in movies and television (55). Barbera says, “We owe it all [success] to Huck,” revealing his fondness for the happy-go-lucky dog and the special place he holds in the rise of Hanna and Barbera (Diehl 69).

Huckleberry Hound’s popularity sparked other characters and shows such as Loopy de Loop, Quick Draw McGraw, and Augie Dog and Doggie Daddy, all reaching the airwaves in 1959. But the newest and brightest star on the scene was not new at all; Yogi Bear and his pal Boo Boo sprang directly from The Huckleberry Hound Show. Along with Huck and Pixie and Dixie, Yogi was also part of the show and proved to be so popular that he was given his own half-hour series, The Yogi Bear Show, in February of 1961. Often cited as being Joe Barbera’s alter ego, even by Barbera himself, Yogi Bear was as popular with adults as he was with children. Yogi’s chief purpose in life was masterminding ways to steal picnic baskets without getting caught by Ranger John Smith. Yogi’s relationship to Ranger Smith is similar to that of Tom and Jerry and recalls a familiar Hanna and Barbera theme: The enjoyed conflict and respect between two worthy opponents. Variety magazine called Yogi Bear “the funniest and most inspired of all the charming . . . Hanna and Barbera characters” (Sennett 63). Yogi’s phenomenal popularity led to parade appearances, television commercials, comic books, and eventually to Hanna and Barbera’s first feature length cartoon in 1964, Hey There, It’s Yogi Bear. The film was not fully animated, but it did contain more detail than the television series and did well at the box office (66).

Yogi Bear’s fame and appeal have never declined. He has spawned many spin-offs and has starred in numerous television specials, holiday specials, and feature length films throughout the 1960’s, 70’s, and 80’s. He was and remains one of Hanna and Barbera’s most influential, durable, and loveable characters.

With The Huckelberry Hound Show, Quick Draw McGraw, and The Yogi Bear Show all thriving in their early evening time slots, the idea of a true prime-time animated program was tossed around. No one had ever done anything like it before, which made Hanna and Barbera somewhat skeptical. But the more they considered it the more they began to believe that a prime-time animated show might be possible, especially if the program was aimed at adults as well as children (79).

The birth of The Flintstones was not an instant flash of inspiration or genius. Hanna and Barbera invested much time and work experimenting with different situations and scenarios for their rough characters. After initially being dressed as Pilgrims, Indians, and Romans, the characters were finally placed in animal skins and set in the Stone Age; creative juices then began to flow, with bits and pieces of detail coming together to inspire storylines and form the nucleus of a show (79). It has been said by many critics and television historians that The Flintstones characters were based on those of The Honeymooners, a popular television comedy starring Jackie Gleason. Barbera understands the comparison, but says that while The Honeymooners was one of his favorite shows, the similarity was not intentional (Beckerman).

The Flintstones package seemed very solid and Hanna and Barbera were confident of its success and appeal. But, as usual, no one wanted to be the first to test something so new and different; as a result, The Flintstones proved to be harder to sell than expected. After being turned down by NBC and CBS, John Mitchell came to the rescue once again and arranged a meeting with ABC executives (Sennett 81). Still a company open to new ideas and ready to gamble from time to time, ABC was impressed and optimistic about the potential of the show and bought The Flintstones within 15 minutes. They soon realized the enormously-sound decision they had made and never regretted it. When Fred, Barney, Wilma, and Betty hit the airwaves in September of 1960, they were instantly a plethora of firsts: the first animated situation comedy on television, the first animated series to go beyond the six or seven minute format, and the first animated series to feature human characters. Viewers loved the show, just as they loved everything Hanna and Barbera were producing at this time, yet most critics panned it, calling it everything from “coarse, gruff, and unattractive” to an “inked disaster” (83). Interestingly, many of these same critics warmed up to the show by season’s end and routinely gave it rave reviews (83).

Hanna and Barbera knew from the start that the success of the show would depend upon their ability to relate a middle-class Stone Age family in Stone Age suburbia to the typical middle-class family in America. They achieved this by involving Fred and Barney in situations and activities familiar to most Americans; by giving the characters around Fred and Barney familiar names, looks, and sounds; and by transforming the necessities and conveniences of everyday life into Stone Age equivalents. Fred and Barney worked regular jobs, enjoyed their families, went bowling, and belonged to the Royal Order of Water Buffalos. They worshipped movie stars Ann Margrock and Gina Lolabricks, competed with athletes Sonny Dempstone and Bronto Crushrock, and were treated by physicians Dr. Stonewall and Smiley Molar. And they used conveniences wherein a famished lobster is a lawn mower, a clam shell with a bee inside is a shaver, a squawking bird is a car horn, and an elephant named Ethel pumps gasoline. These conventions were the essence of The Flintstones and were so highly inventive, so simple, obvious, and natural, that the original Flintstones viewers of the early 1960s were rightly impressed. These same creative conventions, now 30 years old, still impress in the high-tech, sophisticated society of the 1990s.

The impact of The Flintstones on animated television is immeasurable and unequaled (approached only by The Simpsons). The show is one of those curious rarities that comes along once in a lifetime, for creators as well as viewers, and remains as fresh, vibrant, and entertaining in the present as it did in the past. Brooks Atkinson, theater critic for the New York Times, said in 1963 that The Flintstones “are worth a hundred of the standard comedies, and make actors look stiff and anxious” (84). Sennett believes that the program even created “a form, or . . . subgenre of its very own” (84). The Flintstones have even surpassed the inimitable Yogi Bear in terms of durability and longevity, with numerous specials and spin-offs of its own still popular on television in the 1990s. For more than 30 years, millions of children have grown up with The Flintstones, each generation taking the show and its characters to heart and calling them their own. Any creation that stands the test of time in any art form is a remarkable achievement, and Hanna and Barbera did just this with The Flintstones. The show’s impact is sure to be felt well into the future, or at least as long as children continue to watch television.

The triumph of The Flintstones does not by any means end the story of Hanna and Barbera, but it does mark the zenith and most influential and groundbreaking period of their career. They had perfected limited animation, built an impressive catalog of original characters, and taken an animated television series into the uncharted area of prime time and succeeded on all counts. All were monumental advancements in the field of animated television, but the future also held new and exciting challenges. Hanna and Barbera would go on to create many legendary animated television shows: The Jetsons (1962), Top Cat (1962), The Adventures of Jonny Quest (1964), and Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (1969) are only a few. They would dominate Saturday morning television programming during the late 1960s and early 1970s with a variety of styles and characters: slapstick, action-adventure, comedy-adventure, fantasy, and superheroes. Hanna and Barbera never underestimated the intelligence and sophistication of their audience, aiming shows not only at children but at teenagers and adults as well.

Hanna and Barbera produced many animated features and series’ throughout the 1980s; only The Smurfs (1981) and Heidi’s Song (1982) were considered successful, however. Many blame the decline of the company during the 1980s on Hanna and Barbera’s age (Bill is now 82; Joe, 81) and feel they simply lost touch with their audience (Blow). Other critics cite Disney’s rebirth during the 1980s and hold Hanna and Barbera personally responsible for not taking their company in the same direction.

Hanna and Barbera no longer own their company, but do remain as co-chairmen and creative consultants. No matter what the future holds for Hanna and Barbera, the past can never be ignored or erased; their influence is immense. Respected animation scholar and film critic Leonard Maltin says, “When TV came along, a lot of people said, ‘That’s it, you can’t make cartoons anymore’. Hanna and Barbera found a way, at a time when the theatrical cartoon was dying. They kept the animation business alive” (qtd. in Beckerman). A person could stop Hanna and Barbera’s career at any point in time, pull out any character, and that one creation alone would be enough to assure them a place in the annals of animation history. But more important, their collection of innovative and influential characters that span 50 years, taken as a whole, along with their pioneering technical achievements, make Hanna and Barbera an important, if not crucial, influence in the evolution of contemporary animation. Hanna and Barbera have truly earned lofty, sacred, and undeniable positions as two of animation’s elite.