The Grim Cellar

The Fleischer studio was founded in the 20s by brothers Max and David, two innovators in both animation technique and technology (Max was responsible for the rotoscope process, something that allows the artist to copy the photographed movements of a live subject) who were experimenting with film and sound even before it was unleashed upon the general public and producing notably distinctive artistic styles in their drawn work, this being evident in things like Betty Boop and Popeye the Sailor. Gradually becoming more of a subsidiary to Paramount, who had been distributing their films and providing financing, it was a sad irony that Max and David were effectively forced to resign from their own company as the larger studio took control. However, before their departure, and at Paramount‘s request, they managed to produce a series of ten-minute cartoons based on the popular Superman comics (although it was actually Paramount who obtained permission to use the character), even managing to acquire an Academy Award nomination (“Best Short Subject“, only beaten by a Walt Disney/RKO Pluto short) for their work on the first film.

Not seeing these animated films before I approached them with some trepidation, having recently caught some of the late 60s Spider-Man cartoons that I loved during childhood and realising as an adult that both the animation and artwork were of hopelessly bad quality (the drawings themselves were desperate; the movements seem to have been implemented at about four frames per second; the spider on his costume [during season 1] only had six legs! ‘Nuff said?) - for some reason I thought that these Fleischer films might have fallen into the same trap of being rushed due to budgetary constraints. How wrong. The first Superman animation (1941), despite only being ten minutes long, had a budget in the region of fifty thousand dollars (even the Popeye films were costing around fifteen thousand at the time). The remainder were made over the next two years, nine when the Fleischers were effectively in control, and the other eight after their dismissal and the transforming of their company into ‘Famous Studios’ by Paramount. There is a noticeable difference between the first nine and the remaining eight, the former predominantly focusing on threats of the fantastic kind while the latter featuring more down-to-earth storylines about war criminals and the like (acquiring propaganda overtones in the process) - the notable exceptions to this rule being The Mummy Strikes and The Underground World. The Fleischer narratives seem to progress at a faster pace as well as demonstrating greater intuitive creativity and, although the Famous shorts did a reasonable job of replicating the formula, I personally prefer the first nine.

One notable difference in the Superman mythology was evident in the first episode: after landing on Earth, baby Kent is taken to an orphanage where he grows up, this completely omitting the role of the adoptive Kents from the comics where, I believe, they initially dropped him off at the orphanage to collect him for upbringing a few years later (obviously, in the Christopher Reeve films it was the orphanage that was omitted altogether). They also changed the way he moved through the air from mere jumping (which he does in the earlier episodes) to genuinely flying, a convenient aspect that was then taken on by the comic book writers and subsequent film-makers.

The voice talents for the two leads, Bud Collyer and Joan Alexander, were carried over from the radio series (that popularised the famous line, “it‘s a bird, it‘s a plane…”), while the 1940s news-style narration (as well as Perry White) was performed by either Jackson Beck or Julian Noa. The over-the-top musical score, kicking in every time Kent transformed, was always credited to Sammy Timberg. Dave Fleischer directed the first nine, following that episodes were shared between Dan Gordon, Seymour Kneitel, and Isidore Sparber. Various writers and artists were employed during the run.

Executed utilising Technicolor the artwork itself is almost always quite stunning, extremely colourful and extravagant, making stylish use of shadows as often as possible. The regularly used rotoscoped animation is quite a joy to watch and, taking the visual style as a whole, it’s understandable why these shorts have taken on such a historically significant and influential status. Subtle facial expressions and other oddities are fantastically implemented on occasions where laziness or lack of imagination would have reigned with most film-makers. Bearing in mind that everything was hand-painted in those days, the amount of effort that has been put into the gorgeous and plentiful backgrounds is astounding - the series is a work of art.

The stories themselves usually move at a lightning pace, barely wasting a second as each tale unfolds so rapidly the viewer must refrain from blinking if he/she doesn’t want to miss something - fast-paced storytelling is clearly not the exclusive domain of modern children’s entertainment. Kent is not the clumsy soul he became with Christopher Reeve’s definitive interpretation, but he is usually pushed to the sidelines as Lois relentlessly chases every potential story possible, invariably landing herself in mortal danger before Superman has to bail her out. One of my favourite examples of this occurs during The Magnetic Telescope - during a meteor storm that is devastating America people are running from the building that Lois is in before it collapses, but while everybody else is making for the door she decides to turn back so she can use the telephone to call in the story to the Daily Planet! Unsurprisingly she gets caught under the rubble as another meteor hits and Supes has to rescue her yet again. Each film tends to conclude with a newspaper article that Lois receives credit for - not only would she have had little to report if it hadn’t been for the alien hero, her overly zealous career drive at the expense of everything would have got her killed long ago. She does appear to be a feisty and rather foxy (for a drawing!) individual that makes her an appealing lead, though her life-endangering absentmindedness does make you shake your head at times. Her moral stance is often unscrupulous too - in order to capture the glory of an exclusive during Volcano, Lois actually steals Clark’s press card so she can gain access to the danger site forcing him to go back to request a new card. He still ends up saving her butt too. Kent does, however, pull a similarly crafty stunt at the beginning of The Mummy Strikes.

Failing to renew the copyright on many of the original Fleischer works, including Superman, Paramount allowed them to fall into public domain and this resulted in the seventeen Superman shorts receiving a number of substandard DVD releases by various companies. Generally these have been transferred from video archives and it has shown. DC Comics ultimately came to own the original vault elements for these cartoons and Warner Bros. in turn purchased DC, this leading to the eventual restoration of Superman for inclusion on new DVD releases of the Christopher Reeve movies. They’re available in the complete four film (9 disc) UE box, or spread over the Superman The Movie (4 disc) and Superman II (2 or 3 disc) sets. Despite being available cheaply prior to that due their public domain status, these are the versions worth owning. There are negative scratches visible, sometimes abundant, but otherwise these are stunning reproductions. The aforementioned movies are worth owning just to pick up these cartoons.

Superman (26 September 1941)

The Mechanical Monsters (28 November 1941)

Billion Dollar Limited (9 January 1942)

The Arctic Giant (27 February 1942)

The Bulleteers (27 March 1942)

The Magnetic Telescope (24 April 1942)

Electric Earthquake (15 May 1942)

Volcano (July 10 1942)

Terror on the Midway (August 28 1942)

Japoteurs (18 September 1942)

Showdown (16 October 1942)

Eleventh Hour (20 November 1942)

Destruction Inc. (25 December 1942)

The Mummy Strikes (19 February 1943)

Jungle Drums (26 March 1943)

The Underground World (18 June 1943)

Secret Agent (30 July 1943)