15 of 17 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
An Animation Giant, Jun 15 2005
By R. Hardy "Rob Hardy" - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: Out of the Inkwell: Max Fleischer and the Animation Revolution (Hardcover)
Everyone knows Walt Disney and his animated creation Mickey Mouse. When cartoons were just starting to become standards of entertainment, however, Disney had one real competitor, whose name is not as well known to the public but is well regarded by cartoon fans: Max Fleischer. The creator of Betty Boop and the animator of Popeye the Sailor and Superman, Fleischer also invented gadgets that made animation easier and more realistic. In _Out of the Inkwell: Max Fleischer and the Animation Revolution_ (University Press of Kentucky), Fleischer's son, Richard, has given us a short memoir and biography of an amazing artist and technician. It is appropriately full of filial admiration, as Max Fleischer seems to have been a genuinely admirable man and a loving father. His son even starts his book by contradicting the saw that it is difficult to be the son of a famous man. "I grew up as a famous man's son, and I didn't find it difficult at all. In fact, it was great." The animator was famous enough, for instance, that just by mentioning his name, his son could get into the movies free. Fleischer never had a Fleischerland theme park, or the entertainment connections that Disney had, but his place in animation is secure, and this fond biography allows us to appreciate his contributions to the art.
Animated cartoons by 1915 were very primitive; they moved, but in a jerky and unrealistic way. In a combination of his love of drawing and gadgetry, Fleischer realized that a motion picture camera could be rigged to take pictures that could be traced in ink. It wasn't easy; the process involved tracing sixteen pictures for a second of film, and then photographing each drawing onto motion picture film. It seems obvious now, but no one had ever thought of it before, and Fleischer took out a patent for the Rotoscope. Eventually Paramount produced a series of his "Out of the Inkwell" cartoons consisting of Ko-Ko the clown, coming to life on the animation board in front of Fleischer, interacting with him in live action, and then being captured into the ink bottle again. No one had ever seen anything like it, and it was a worldwide hit. Disney was the spur for Fleischer's most enduring creation. Mickey Mouse pushed Ko-Ko off center stage, so Fleischer responded by giving Ko-Ko a new dog, tough, cigar-chewing, and piano-playing. It didn't work, so the dog was replaced by a half-dog, half-human love interest for Ko-Ko. She was ugly, with saucer eyes an enormous bouncy behind, but Paramount thought she was great. Fleischer refined her, took away her dog's snout and ears, gave her a sexy figure, and a new name: Betty Boop. She was a sensation; Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong played for her cartoons, there were tie-in dolls and dishes and fan clubs, and a daily comic strip. Betty made over a hundred pictures, with her initial career winding down at the end of the thirties. The Motion Picture Production Code killed her; her harmless sexual image was stripped of its garter and plunging neckline, and her hemline dropped. She became less fun, and audiences less enthusiastic, and the series ended so that America could be safe from Betty's smut.
Fleischer had other notable successes, like the original Superman cartoons, and the first animated Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. It did not ensure him financial success; the author tries to clarify the murky funny-business by which Paramount summarily canceled their contract and asserted rights to all of Fleischer's creations. By the sixties he was broke, but his family arranged for him and his wife to be cared for in the Motion Picture Country House, set up for Hollywood figures that needed a place for retirement. The King Features Syndicate brought out a new line of Betty Boop products in 1972, and it seems as if she will live forever. 1972 was the year, though, that Fleischer died, and he didn't get to experience her reappearance in pop culture. Richard Fleischer has brought a loving tribute to his dad, and a reminder, in times where computer animation seems so effortless, of just how much work it took for the pioneers in the field to make the drawings dance.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
One of the great true Hollywood stories., July 2 2007
By I. Sondel "I. Sondel - lover of the arts" - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: Out of the Inkwell: Max Fleischer and the Animation Revolution (Hardcover)
This is a fascinating memoir of Max Fleischer, "the" great pioneer of 20th Century motion picture cartoon making, written by his son Richard Fleischer* [*himself the director of such films as "20,000 Leagues under the Sea," "Compulsion," "10 Rellington Place" and "Fantastic Voyage"]. This isn't one of those exhautive (or exhausting) biographies that regurgitate facts and statistic about a great artist no matter how redundant, erroneous or incongruous; rather this is a loving tribute to an incredible man, artist and father.
Max Fleischer was the genuine article. He created Koko the Clown, Betty Boop and "follow the bouncing ball" and brought them lovingly to life on the big screen. His studio also produced the Popeye the Sailor and Superman cartoon shorts. He was an extraordinary inventor who held patents on a number of revolutionary filmmaking gadgets and gizmos. Though he inspired uncommon respect and loyalty from those in his employ, he was not a great businessman. Max was an honest and far too trusting man, who unwittingly got into bed with those nefarious folks at Paramount.
This is a great unfilmed Hollywood story, one I'd love to see brought to the big screen by Francis Ford Coppola (a la "Tucker: The Man and His Dream" - the two stories have much in common). Max Fleischer's life story is filled with drama and passion. He was an uncommon man of talent and ambition. His was an American dream that came true, and then became a nghtmare. Still, through it all, he remained optimistic. Bravo Max, and bravo Richard Fleischer for telling your father's story with such care.