Megillah for a Gorilla

What happens when a warm, fuzzy childhood memory turns out to be a piece of highly commercial "dark age" animation.

The Magilla Gorilla Show, "Big Game"
OB: week of January 14, 1964, times varied according to local markets
I was born the day this show premiered in first run syndication.

Today, January 14, 2014, it actually happens.  I turn 50.

Since my turning 50 is a big part of why I'm writing this blog, I wanted a show that marked the occasion especially well.  At first I took a long look at all the shows that aired that day in 1964.  I ordered a copy of that night's Garry Moore Show...that still hasn't darkened my mailbox (and I ordered it in early November). So much for that.  I already did Combat! and The Jack Benny Program.  I looked at McHale's Navy, The Fugitive, Petticoat Junction--even an ultra-rare Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson from that day. (In his monologue, Johnny actually mentions the winter storm that I was always told about from that day.) And all of those will get their columns.

But I also checked to see if any programming actually premiered that day or close to it.  There was The Hollywood Palace, and there is the sadly still unattainable That was the Week That Was.
But then, imagine my surprise when I saw one of my earliest childhood favorites, The Magilla Gorilla Show, was released into first run syndication that day.  Magilla was born the same day as me. So that was it...Magilla would be the official icon of the day I reach the half-century mark.  It may be the only thing in the world that the lovable ape and I have in common (aside from the fact that Magilla did love to watch TV).

Keep in mind, I harbor no illusions that Magilla Gorilla was a classic piece of animation.  I know it came from Hanna-Barbera, the favorite whipping goat of "dark era animation."  And this is no different: lots (I mean lots) of "wraparound backgrounds," really corny and dry jokes, slow pacing to make sure everyone gets those jokes, and so forth.  Plus, Magilla will never be the icon that, say, Fred Flintstone or Tom & Jerry became.

But I still have those warm, fuzzy memories of Magilla back to back with his work buddy, Peter Potamus, on Saturday mornings on ABC.  That's where I got to know them.  But that was actually late in the game.
Our story actually starts much earlier, as I said in animation's "dark period," the period immediately after animation's "golden age" and perhaps its opposite.  Hanna-Barbera gets a lot of the heat from this era, being one of the first studios to adapt quickly to to the quick, sadistic, demanding schedules of TV that didn't allow time for a lot of detail. Yet H-B could still do a lot of pioneering work, revolutionizing the prime time cartoon with The Flintstones and The Jetsons. and turning out some surprisingly good animation in Jonny Quest. But H-B's constant rush to manufacture product prevented it from living up even to those standards on a regular basis. Its adult-friendly humor began to slip in 1963, and the studio began slipping into its comfort zone of more juvenile humor.

And Hanna-Barbera had, and has, its defenders, one of them none other than perhaps the greatest cartoon voice artist of all time, Mel Blanc.  While admitting "it would be dishonest of me to claim (the Hanna-Barbera cartoons) were on a par aesthetically with Warner Bros.'", he still said comparing the two were unfair.  In his autobiography, Blanc said "Not only were their budgets substantially smaller, production time was virtually cut in half."

But 1963 may not have been the best year for H-B, despite their high hopes to the contrary.  The Flintstones and the newly premiered The Jetsons were helping ABC usher in their earliest color programming.  (The Jetsons was actually ABC's first show to be seen in color, in fact.)  But things didn't work out well: despite three bona fide attempts at ratings events--the birth of Pebbles, the guest appearance of Ann-Margret and the adoption of Bamm-Bamm--The Flintstones was falling like a rock in the ratings, and The Jetsons was cancelled after just one season (though rerun by various networks into the 1980s on Saturday mornings).

So when Hanna-Barbera was ready to premiere its next show, it was in first run syndication, and it was that gorilla in the window.  Here's the color versions of the show's iconic open and closing themes, which sadly are missing from the series DVD for some reason.


A black and white documentary that was shown on local TV stations just before the show's premiere, shows William Hanna and Joseph Barbera talking to a group of the studio's creative people, acting out how they came up with the idea: they wanted a show about a gorilla, but not one set in a zoo where plots were going to be limited.  They considered a funny jungle, but ultimately decided to put him in a pet shop window. People would buy him every week, and ultimately bring him back for a refund, to the chagrin of Mr. Peebles the store owner.  What we didn't see was how in the world they came up with the name Magilla, which appears to be an aberration of "megillah," a Yiddish word that sometimes means long, drawn out, tediously detailed story.

Ideal Toys signed on as sponsor, and that relationship made the show affordable to local stations.  And so, on January 14, 1964 (the day I was born and a Tuesday), the show was released into syndication and premiered on a few stations.  That didn't mean everyone had to show it that night; some stations ran it other nights, usually in "prime access," just before prime time.  (That's when stations now often show Wheel of Fortune and Entertainment Tonight, for instance.)
And thus, the gorilla and I were born.

Each show had a cartoon featuring Magilla, a second featuring Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long, and a third with Punkin Puss and Mushmouse.

The week I was born, the premiere introduced us to Magilla just before we'd meet the weekly customer. Mr. Peebles (voiced by Howard Morris, cartoon voice man and character actor)  who flunks his zoology lesson by describing baby Magilla as a "chimpanzee."  He tells us via backstory how the small Magilla first came to the shop, first started causing trouble, and eventually kept getting brought back over and over, was bananas, with Magilla telling him those will probably last about an hour.
That hungry voice is that of another character actor, Allan Melvin, who often specialized in tough guys or military men in comedy shows.  Perhaps you remember him from one of his on-camera roles: Corporal Henshaw on The Phil Silvers Show, Sergeant Hacker on Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., Sam the butcher and Alice's boyfriend on The Brady Bunch, and Archie Bunker's co-worker and lodge brother, Barney Hefner, on All in the Family and Archie Bunker's Place.  Or you might even remember him for multilpe roles on The Andy Griffith Show and The Dick Van Dyke Show.

Enter J. Wimple Dymple and his butler/chauffeur, Faunteroy.   J. Wimple Dymple (always referred by his full name) seems to want Magilla really badly.  Mr. Peebles is so excited to get rid of his high-maintenance simian that he sells him for $5 (personally I would've bargained with the billionaire a bit, but that's just me).

Back at the Wimple Dymple manor, J. Wimple Dymple is making sure Magilla is feeling at home.  He shows him his game hunting trophies, a collection of frightened-looking animal heads mounted on his wall.  He then asks Magilla to stand atop a pedestal, giving our poor ape the idea he's about to pose for some snapshots. Then he notices J. Wimple Dymple has a "long lens atop your camera," which is actually his hunting rifle.

The blast of gunfire prompts Magilla's funny dry humored line, "That was a very suspicious move, sir!"  "My collection lacks a gorilla, and you're it, Magilla!" J. Wimple Dymple responds.  Then there's a chase all over J. Wimple Dymple's backyard, because of course there's massive amounts of gunfire in a 1960s cartoon.

An attempt by Magilla to jump into a pool sends J. Wimple Dymple into a tree.  When Magilla disguises himself as a statue, it actually works until he's insulted ("What a homely looking statue!") and J. Wimple Dymple gets a pitcher full of water over his head.

J. Wimple Dymple then decides to get what turns out to be his very dumb but proper butler, Faunteroy, to put on a gorilla outfit and make what they think is a mating call ("Blook, blook, blook...and a blook") that will bring out Magilla.  Sure enough, Magilla catches up to his new buddy and gives him tips on how to imitate a gorilla: he hands Faunteroy his hat and bowtie.  Even if the humor of this cartoon is often groan-inducing, you have to appreciate the great cartoon logic here.  As Faunteroy leaves, we hear Magilla's now classic line: "Such a megillah over a gorilla!"

Sure enough, Magilla's advice works: Faunteroy finds himself being chased by J. Wimple Dymple and his bullets.  ("Help!  Help!  And an ouch!")  Magilla ends up on his own back in Mr. Peebles' shop window, and Faunteroy joins him, asking if he can stay until "the master" calms down.  The two then say "Blook, blook and a blook" to each other (remember, this is supposed to be a mating call) and that's where we last see them, homoerotically bonding in Mr. Peebles' window.

The next segment stars a western hero: Ricochet Rabbit (voice of Hanna-Barbera veteran Don Messick, later the voice of Scooby-Doo and Papa Smurf), and his sidekick Droop-a-Long Coyote (the legendary Mel Blanc), in "Atcheson, Topeka and Sam Jose."

Ricochet's trademark was his speed, he was the fastest sheriff in the west.  He would always say "...or my name isn't bing-bing-BIIIINNNNNG!  Richochet Rabbit!" as he bounced off two walls and the ceiling on his way to take out his next bad guy.  (His debut was in a cartoon starring Hanna-Barbera's favorite turtle, Touche Turtle.)  Ricochet's painfully slow partner, Droop-a-Long, was always inept at that same move, usually crashing into a stove, a wall or a cactus. He also makes coffee so bad, he often has to chisel off a piece of it.

In this one, the two are after A. T. Sam Jose, the stereotypical Mexican bandit who is determined to rob a gold shipment aboard a train.  (This type of humor was already starting to become outdated at this time.)  Of course, there's a lot of gunfire yet again; Ricochet's bullets are trick bullets, which open up and, say, hit bad guys over the head with a mallet.  Nice little twist, there, just when you think you're going to see a piece of cartoon violence...you're surprised with a totally different piece of cartoon violence.

The next back segment cartoon introduces us to Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse, voiced once again by Melvin and Morris. (Morris actually uses his Ernest T. Bass voice from The Andy Griffith Show, in fact.)  It answers the question, "What can we do with cat and mouse characters to make them even more violent than Tom & Jerry or Herman & Catnip?" with "Give one of them a gun, of course."  (My dear God at all the gunfire on this show.)   They were portrayed as feuding hillbillies.  The premiere week episode was "Callin' all Kin," in which Mushmouse calls all of his lookalike relatives to give Punkin' Puss a hard time.

The writing on this show was not very sharp, considering that Hanna-Barbera was known for being dialogue-driven over animation-driven cartoons.  The things that jumped out the most were, of course, the violence, and the derivative nature of the cartoons: Magilla Gorilla was modeled after Yogi Bear, with Mr. Peebles a variation of Ranger Smith.  Ricochet Rabbit is a variation of Speedy Gonzalez, and Droop-a-Long modeled somewhat after Hardy Har-Har, the whiny hyena who was Lippy the Lion's sidekick.  To me, Ricochet Rabbit was the most likable character of any of these, but wasn't given enough interesting things to do.

In time we'll get to meet Ogee, the little girl heard in the opening credits asking "How much is that gorilla in the window?"  She's the surrogate for all the boys and girls in the audience who would love to have an unappreciated gorilla as a playmate.

While Hanna-Barbera is known for "borrowing" personalities of real-life celebrities for its characters (Tennessee Ernie Ford = Huckleberry Hound, Jimmy Durante = Doggie Daddy, etc.), there doesn't seem to be a real life counterpart to Magilla.  At least one argument has Magilla representing black people, and the show's universe mirroring a desire within white America to keep races segregated.  Personally I don't buy it, but it certainly would add a disturbing subtext to some of the episodes, like for instance the one in which Ogee brings Magilla home to her parents and they get upset and call the police.

Personally, I think the show's subtext is the more obvious one...I mean, heck, it's right there in the show's theme song.  "We've got Magilla Gorilla, Magilla Gorilla for sale...won't you,buy him, take him home and try him..."

Magilla's reason to exist...was to sell toys.  Ideal not only sponsored the show, and had Magilla pushing their product with all of his gorilla might, but they had an entire line of Magilla Gorilla dolls ready to go when the show premiered, tying in from the very first episode.  The whole idea of Magilla getting bought at Mr. Peebles' store every week was based on the idea that it would happen in real life, too, in toy stores across America.


So, I won't lie to you, that was a letdown.  I could accept that Magilla wasn't drawn with all the artistry in the world; I could accept the dialogue was sorely lacking, not adult friendly like Rocky and Bullwinkle; I could (or should) even accept all of the violence (probably why we never see this show very much any more).  But Magilla, a corporate shill?  A sellout from the getgo?  The "Gorilla for Sale" theme an actual commercial jingle, each episode an infomercial?  The founding lord of the empire that includes Thundercats, Transformers, and My Little Pony?  Say it ain't so, Magilla, say it ain't so!

Magilla ran for three seasons in first run syndication, to be joined in fall 1964 by his colleague Peter Potamus.  They were so successful they actually made the rare move of leaving syndication for a network: ABC picked up both series for Saturday mornings beginning on New Year's Day 1966, and extending until September 1967.  And it was during the ABC run that I first met those lovable louts, though until I watched this on DVD, I had no memories of either show except for the characters.  I couldn't have told you about a single episode.

But Magilla actually improved slightly in quality during the show's run.  And a song that appeared in one episode--remember when Saturday morning cartoons often had a song, like "Sugar, Sugar" on The Archies?--is my favorite I've ever heard on an animated TV show.  It's in the episode in which Magilla goes to the beach and ends up on a runaway surfboard, winning over all the teenagers as a surfer king.  Then we hear the legendary "Makin' with the Magilla" song, performed by Miss Loco-Motion herself, Little Eva.

After 1967, Magilla went into semi-obscurity, his co-stars--Mr. Peebles, Ricochet Rabbit, Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse--all completely forgotten.  I didn't see Magilla again until he powered Yogi's Ark in the 1970s, and he was also known to make guest appearances on the Cartoon Network and Boomerang.  If there were a cartoon equivalent of The Hollywood Squares, Magilla might have been a semi-regular.
I don't know it if was me, or him, or maybe the rest of us and the times (the move away from violent cartoons and racial stereotypes, maybe), but Magilla and I...well, we grew apart, we didn't stay in touch.  We moved on.  I had a couple of kids, and a career of my own in television, and he had his own work on the Ark, so we can assume Mr. Peebles either let Magilla go or finally sold him.

But, on this day when I turn 50 and think about everything in the world that involves, including my AARP card that's already been mailed to me, I guess the very least I can do for my old friend is give him a little shoutout here, a little remembrance of a childhood friend on his own 50th, since I might very well be the only one. I've often had a soft spot in my heart for the underappreciated, the forgotten, the constantly refunded.  Because I have to say, for a gorilla who so often got insulted about his looks on his own show ("I like the gorilla disguise, but next time try to get a better fit"), he still looks the same as he did 50 years ago...but I may have actually aged better.

Availability: the entire series is on DVD, minus the opening and closing (which are on Youtube).

Next time on this channel: The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.