The Pink Panther
(Original Release: 1963 | US Release: March 18, 1964)
Credits:
Live-Action Director - Blake Edwards
Animation Director - Friz Freleng
Animation - Ken Harris, Laverne Harding, Manny Gould, Don Williams, Manny Perez, Warren Batchelder, Bob Matz, Norm McCabe, Dale Case, and George Grandpré
Layouts & Character Design - Hawley Pratt
Graphic Designer - Corny Cole
Welcome to Design in Motion!
Thank you for giving this new blog a chance. When I was a teenager, I kept up with a ton of animation blog sites. Some of my favorites were accounts like Yowp, Cartoon Research, Michael Sporn’s Splog, and Anipages. These were sharply written, historically rich, and opinion pieces focusing on such subjects as Looney Tunes, Lupin the Third, and early Hanna-Barbera cartoons. But even now, I’ve always wished the DePatie-Freleng cartoons got similar treatment. I love the Pink Panther cartoons! How come nobody wants to talk about them?
It seems obvious to start with the first Pink Panther cartoon. It’s probably the most famous cartoon ever produced by the company. But I feel there’s so much important context to understand before we can even look into one of their theatricals. This is going to be more historical rather than analytical so this will sound a bit different than future posts I’m writing. But my initial drafts for “The Pink Phink” heavily discussed the studio’s beginnings. I just thought it would be smarter to separate the history of DePatie-Freleng into its own post. So in today’s post, we’ll be discussing the formation of DePatie-Freleng, the creation of the Pink Panther and the opening titles that launched him into stardom. Our story will mostly center around two important figures: David Hudson DePatie and Isadore “Friz” Freleng. As the studio is named after these men, I feel where their careers were in the early 1960s is just as important as the Pink Panther himself. So join me as we discuss how the closing of Warner Bros’ cartoon department resulted in newfound success and a character that would give some of the most prolific artists in their field a career for the next two decades.
Firstly though, let’s go over some American history. As our topic will mostly take place in 1963, what was going on in the country at this time? 1963 was another year in a decade that would fundamentally change the face of American society, politics, and the image of the country. President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. Martin Luther King Jr. would present his “I Had a Dream” speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. The Civil Rights movement continued to press on. The 16th Street Bombing in Birmingham, Alabama resulted in the deaths of four African-American girls. The first successful lung transplant was performed by Dr. James Hardy. The Beatles released their debut record sparking the rise of the British Invasion. “Mighty Atom” (localized in America as “Astro Boy”) would premiere, becoming recognized as the first Japanese animated TV show. 1963 would also see the release of films such as “It’s a Mad, Mad Mad, Mad World”, “8 ½”, “The Birds'', “The Great Escape”, “Cleopatra”, “Jason and the Argonauts”, “The Sword in the Stone”, “Charade” and “Tom Jones”.
1963 was also the year Warner Bros’ Cartoons closed its doors. Wait, the studio that made the Looney Tunes? Developed some of the greatest animated characters in the history of entertainment? That studio?! Why would Warner Bros pull the plug on the studio that created some of the most identifiable and timeless characters of American animation? The easy answer is short-term greed. But the long answer is more complicated. We have to talk about television.
Termite Terrace has now entered the 1960s. Since February 1958, John W. Burton had been running the studio in a very steady manner. Burton had been with the company for twenty years beforehand as the studio’s production manager. He even brought in his son John Burton Jr. to join the team. When Eddie Selzer would retire, Burton definitely seemed like a natural fit to manage the Looney Tunes artists. Termite Terrace had great admiration for Burton. Also helped the directors got along with him too. There was never the level of ill contempt that Eddie Selzer faced. The May 1958 issue of Warner Club News shares a story that after Burton accepted the Oscar for Friz Freleng’s film “Birds Anonymous” the ink and paint staff bought Burton a caged canary with a thank you note attached. So by the beginning of the '60s, Termite Terrace was in as steady of a groove as you could get. New cartoons continued to air. Reviews were still positive. A Bugs Bunny cartoon even won its first Oscar. Burton continued to be respected by the artists and the work was plentiful. Everything seemed okay. Sadly, this certainly would not last long. And it would start with the guy whose last name is on the company lot.
For some reason, Jack Warner really didn’t like John Burton. Maybe in his eyes he wasn’t tough enough? Maybe he wanted someone he trusted better? Whatever the reason seems to be unknown. But regardless, Jack Warner wanted Burton out! And Jack had to start searching for replacements. By this time, David H. DePatie was the head of the commercial and industrial division at Warners. While on the job, David gets a call from Jack. Jack said he wanted to kick the cartoon producer out and was curious if DePatie would like his job. He assumed David would be the right man for the job as the commercials division had to have done some animation work. Hard to say no to Jack Warner. So David accepts the offer. On January 15, 1960, John Burton announced his retirement. Effective immediately, in comes David DePatie as the new general manager and producer of Termite Terrace.
more closely resemble TV cartoons in production quality and writing. It didn’t help matters much that David DePatie pushed the studio to prioritize TV productions. Suddenly Termite Terrace was split between animating TV commercials for Post Foods and other clients, co-producing TV pilots like “Philbert” and “The Adventures of the Roadrunner”, and maintaining the final episodes of “The Bugs Bunny Show”. Not to mention they also accepted an assignment to produce the animated portions for the Don Knotts film “The Incredible Mr. Limpet”. Termite Terrace found itself overworked, understaffed, and very, very tired. So with the new cartoons deteriorating in quality, the staff being exhausted and scattered, television kicking their butts, and the cartoons grossing less money, the inevitable was finally on its way.
It is now 1961. DePatie hadn’t been at his new job for over a year. One night at his office, he gets a call from the New York offices of Warner Bros. to fly over for a meeting. The news isn’t pretty. The top brass at Warner Bros decided that they wanted to get out of the animation business and intend to close Termite Terrace. There were already enough cartoons to air on TV for years to come. The executives saw no incentive to continue production of new Looney Tunes cartoons and the costs weren’t worth it. DePatie was able to convince the board to keep the lights on at Termite Terrace for at least another year and a half more. After all, the studio had contractual obligations to complete such as “The Incredible Mr. Limpet” and the few Looney Tunes shorts left in production. But once they were all done, that was it. The plug had to be pulled. Collect your walking papers on the way out. DePatie wasn’t in an enviable position knowing he’d have to return back to California to give the old-timers the worst news of their careers. By the 1950s, the staff at Termite Terrace got used to the closure of their studio being threatened every few years. Yet they were still kept alive throughout the entire decade. It started to feel like the end would never come. Even when they thought the end had come in 1953, the studio opened right back up. Termite Terrace survived it all. It started to feel like you’d be guaranteed a job for the rest of your life. It was absolutely not a fun position knowing you were working on the final Looney Tunes cartoons. But soon enough the one-year extension would pass. All work was submitted and the final cartoons of the studio were put on the shelves to be burned off for later. Termite Terrace officially closed its doors in the spring of 1963 officially ending the career of the greatest animation studio of the Golden Age of Animation.
DePatie’s job stability was never in question. Being the son of Warner executive Edmond L. DePatie, the “Warner Brat” was always guaranteed a cushy life. After the closing of Termite Terrace, David DePatie was quickly given a new job offer. Warner Bros television division asked if DePatie would like to join as a producer for their then-current programs like “Maverick” and “77 Sunset Strip”. Seems like a logical offer to take? He would turn them down. You have to understand, DePatie didn’t envision becoming another television executive for the rest of his life. Instead, what he envisioned himself was to become the next Hanna-Barbera. DePatie’s love affair with animation meant no live-action job would ever satiate his appetite. He wasn’t interested in moving to the world of live-action. His forever home was with animation. So with this in mind, he decided to study the state of the animation market. Here’s what he discovered. There was a small but noticeable demand for new theatrical cartoons in the mid-60s. MGM had already released a reboot season of new Tom & Jerry cartoons. Hanna-Barbera and Columbia Pictures were still releasing their theatrical series of Loopy De Loop shorts. Walter Lantz was still putting out new Woody Woodpeckers theatricals. The quality of these new theatricals is debatable but the demand was still there. There was always a space for more industrial cartoons. Plus, DePatie's advertising connections could ensure there would be plenty of animated commercials to produce. It started to seem pretty plausible. Besides, he was the son of a Warner Bros executive. What was he to lose? Why not go into business for himself! Now it was DePatie’s job to make this dream into a reality.
What instantly became clear to DePatie was that if he wanted this studio idea to work he needed a co-partner who actually knew how to make cartoons. David had been producing cartoons for years at this point but when it came to the actual nuts and bolts of animation production he was clueless. But who could he ask? Or the question you may be asking yourself is, why did it end up being Friz Freleng? DePatie was asked by (friend of the blog) Charles Brubaker as to whether he considered asking Chuck Jones or Bob McKimson to go into business with him. DePatie’s answer had a lot to do with his preexisting relationships with the two directors. Chuck Jones and David DePatie did not get along. In the slightest. David DePatie, after all, was the guy who fired Jones in 1962 for his breach of contract working on UPA’s second film “Gay Purr-ee”. He had always thought of Chuck Jones as a “maverick”. Why would Chuck in his right mind want to work for the guy who fired him from his favorite job? Especially when Les Goldman gave him a better offer to start his own studio. So Chuck was an obvious no. Conversely, DePatie’s views on Bob McKimson were much kinder but not as passionate. DePatie never thought anything negatively of McKimson. He viewed McKimson as a steady hand who got the job done. Hell, years later he’d eventually hire Bob. But DePatie just didn’t view him as anything more than a guy who did his work. Of the three top Warner directors, Friz Freleng was the only choice DePatie would ever consider. The two had grown friendly throughout their working experience. Even late in life, DePatie considered Friz a dear friend. So there was really only one choice. Friz was THE guy to ask. Friz was always the senior director at Warners, he was with the company for longer than anyone else (at this point) and he was the easiest to work with of all the directors. DePatie knew he had to invite Friz as his partner. Now his only hurdle was convincing Friz away from his new job.
With the Warner Bros cartoon studio now fully in control of David and Friz, finding staff for their new company wasn’t hard. Anyone still working at Warner Bros before the transition was ripe for the pick. So several artists who were working for Warner Bros found themselves working in the same space just under a different name. Some of the first animators hired to work at DePatie-Freleng would include Don Williams, Laverne Harding, Norm McCabe, and Bob Matz. John W. Dunn became the studio’s head writer. Friz Freleng installed himself as the creative head and supervising director of the company. David DePatie would operate as the studio’s administrative and production head. And many more animation veterans would find themselves at DePatie-Freleng such as Hawley Pratt, Gerry Chiniquy, Corny Cole, Dick Ung, and several more. Plus one benefit these new hires got was a fresh and rejuvenated working space. DePatie’s request was heard and on July 11, 1963, Warner Bros. fully refurbished the old animation studio complete with installing new equipment. Termite Terrace never looked better. On the outside, it looked as if DePatie-Freleng was handed the golden keys to success from the word “Go”. Their new studio was fully refurbished, Friz’s old co-workers came back in droves, and DePatie’s advertising connections provided the new hires with plenty to work on. Some of the studio’s first projects included animating new Charlie the Tuna commercials, ads for Gillette Razors, Kaiser aluminum foil, Post Foods, Skippy peanut butter, and a variety of other clients. While not the most glamorous assignments, it at least ensured David and Friz could meet the payroll every month. And they would continue to get new gigs from here. But one gig would come to identify the company for the rest of its life.
Nonetheless, an assignment was offered. Blake Edwards wanted the DePatie-Freleng artists to come up with a design for a Pink Panther character he could use in his new movie. It was certainly an interesting proposal and David and Friz seemed to enjoy the script. So they accepted and quickly tasked their top artist for the job: Hawley Pratt. Pratt drafted numerous iterations of pink panthers. David DePatie loves to juice the story to say Pratt drew up over a hundred different versions of a pink panther. We do not know the amount actually created as none of the original designs for the Panther have yet to surface. But the important thing was Pratt dedicated himself to coming up with as many variations as he possibly could. Hawley Pratt had spent decades working as Friz’s right-hand man at Warners. Pratt could take Friz’s roughs and plus them to a degree that made Friz’s cartoons pop. There wasn’t a layout artist in the world Friz trusted more than Hawley. He could do anything and do it exceptionally well. The time would eventually come for Blake to visit the studio. Pratt’s designs were spread across the floor for Blake to choose from. In a decisive manner, he pointed to his favorite one and said, “That’s the one I want!”. The gig was complete. The Pink Panther was born.
There seems to be some conflict as to who we can pin down were the writers/board artists for the titles. In a 1990 interview with Michael Barrier, background artist Maurice Noble claimed he worked on storyboard concepts for the titles. In his own words, “I made a concept and general approach for the Pink Panther titles. Blake Edwards had had four or five other people work on it; Hawley [Pratt] couldn't make anything out of it. So I came out there and I worked out a concept, and Edwards bought it immediately.”. Maurice Noble’s story conflicts with Friz Freleng who claims in a 1988 interview with Jerry Beck that, “...I designed a storyboard, with all the gags, just the way you see it on the screen. [Blake Edwards] looked at it, and he didn’t change a thing.”. The stories seem to conflict whether it was one or multiple people who came up with gags for these titles. Looking at it in my eyes, it was seemingly a collaboration between Friz Freleng, Hawley Pratt, Maurice Noble, and a couple more artists. Then when the pitch was fully OK-ed, Friz Freleng took over the final boards and that was the one Blake Edwards approved. But regardless, when storyboards were a hit around the offices it was a clear sign the artists had something going. But now actually making the titles was a whole other challenge.
An important thing to understand is neither Friz nor his crew had any experience doing opening title sequences for live-action movies. While he had done animated sequences for films such as “My Dream is Yours” and “Two Guys from Texas”, these were produced in a way where they were pretty much miniature Looney Tunes cartoons. Opening credits require far more restrictions and studio politics. As Friz explained in a July 1978 issue of American Cinematographer, your biggest hassle when creating a unique title sequence won’t be, “...the action part but legal things, and names in the wrong order - that sort of thing”. Some actors might want their name before or after someone else, the staff might want a specific credit, and names might be misspelled if you’re working with a block of names every name has to be given the same screen time. So while overall animating a sequence where Bugs Bunny dances with Doris Day isn’t much dissimilar to animating the Pink Panther reacting to David Niven’s name there’s a level of handicaps present that make it different from anything the staff at DePatie-Freleng had handled. At least Charlie the Tuna ads only had the restrictions that the product had to be shown for a certain time. But at the end of the day, an animated title sequence is just that, an animated cartoon. And if Friz knew anything was how to craft a damn good cartoon.
Now we can finally discuss the actual title sequence. If you would like to follow along (or for some reason have not seen it already), it is widely available on the internet. I’ve included a link here if you are interested.
We begin with a great zoom-in dissolve from the Pink Panther diamond into the Panther himself. Ken Harris animates the first-ever scene of the Pink Panther, looking as animalistic as he’d ever be. Effortlessly with no dialogue, the Pink Panther’s personality is communicated.
One of Friz’s strengths as a director was always his sharp sense of characterization. You watch the first Yosemite Sam cartoon or the first Sylvester the Cat cartoon and within the first few shots, you understand the characters' personalities instantly. Here, animator Ken Harris is able to get across the character’s entire pathos with just the simple flick of a cigarette holder. The Panther reads as the peak of sophistication and class. A suave aristocrat who wouldn’t look out of place at a penthouse cocktail party. The very playful way the Mirisch Company and David Niven credits pop in and out does great at retaining the audience’s attention while offering something playfully fun to look at. Especially with the fact the Panther pulls out a diamond to use as an eyepiece. It’s quite understated but appreciated.
So we know the Panther is elegant. Great! But if this was his only characterization, then the Panther would be no different than a stuffed shirt you’d see Daffy Duck heckle. What really makes the Pink Panther an icon is how he handles his comedic foils. All comic leads are defined by their foils. This helps us build a nuanced and relatable perception of our main characters thus making them stick in our minds. Charlie Chaplin’s Tramp character sticks with the audience because you see him win against mean bosses or swarms of cops. We see Bugs Bunny as a collective, snarky character because he can always remain calm even in the face of a double-barrel shotgun. Foils are the secret spice to adding character depth. And if the Panther has a true foil in this title sequence, it would be the disembodied glove of The Phantom thief. The glove pulling the Panther’s tail shows us smaller characters we wouldn’t perceive as threats can sometimes get the better of him. Which in turn instantly makes him a more human character to the audience. He’s just like you. He gets spooked away by the little things.
While conversely, the Panther is able to handle the Peter Sellers caricature with the ease of simple pranks. It’s a dynamic we’ll Friz and company perfect next year. The gag where the Panther makes tracks is a cute series of Chaplinesque escalations. It starts with Inspector Clouseau following the Panther’s tracks, then the Panther brushes them away, and finally him spinning Robert Wagner’s name as a propeller to fly away only to end up making tracks.
When the artists can’t find ways to incorporate the Pink Panther into the credits, most of this title sequence is a series of stylized motion graphics. They like using tightly rendered blocks of color against a white background. Most of these are animated, but some are static elements. These bits to me feel like Maurice Noble’s influences. Fun but not the most memorable portions.
It’s interesting to mention that when Friz was working on the titles Henry Mancini had not finished the Pink Panther theme. Mancini could only give him a simple drum beat for what he envisioned the rhythm to be. So when Friz was timing out this title sequence, he was primarily working in the dark. As Friz himself said in the 1988 Jerry Beck interview, “...I had to figure out how many frames to the beat that was. I figured about twelve, so I did the whole thing to twelve, except for a couple shots.”. For his sake, Mancini was lucky he was working with an animation director who timed his cartoons to musical bar sheets.
Friz, especially by the ‘60s, loved finding economic ways to milk gag mileage off of one character pose. Take for instance the picture gag. The Panther getting his picture taken and then blowing up in his face is a solid way to make a joke around just two character poses. Friz’s economy did prove one thing true: sometimes fewer drawings make a gag funnier.
We then return to the stylized motion graphic credits. Admittedly, nothing to write home about, but there’s some interesting transition animations used throughout.
The best part is when the Panther splits the screen to call attention to himself, only for him to be pushed away by a red line.
They economically reuse that line for multiple credit chunks, even for DePatie-Freleng’s credit.
There’s an okay gag of the Panther rowing a gondola and his row getting stuck in the water, sinking to the bottom. A bit of a snoozer.
A better gag is the entire typewriter sequence. In a very clever move, a red credits block morphs into a key on a typewriter to which even more keys pop up.
The title sequence winds down with one last joke and the Panther’s final prank: misspelling director Blake Edwards’ name as Elabk Sdrawed. The Phantom glove makes its final return, pointing a gun at the Panther to clean up his mess. Thinking he can turn the tables, the Panther snatches the gun away pointing it at the glove. The glove corks the gun blowing up in the Panther’s face. The ultimate punishment for the Panther’s mischief is to be the victim of a very stock Looney Tunes gag.
And as this final gag finishes we end this title sequence with a push-in on the Panther’s bloodshot eyes closing, turning the screen to black. Hope the actual movie is this funny, folks!
I should note that this wasn’t the only animation DePatie-Freleng worked on for the film. The studio produced an original animated trailer for the film’s 1964 American release. All the same crew from the titles worked on the trailer and the animation and gags are of a similar caliber. Interesting to mention they get away with a lot more raunchy jokes in this trailer. Specifically when the Panther uses a loupe to ogle at the bedroom scenes. Or when the Panther’s irises follow the hip sway of Claudia Cardinale. DePatie-Freleng also animated a sequence transposed against live action of the Panther as a traffic cop bringing out the “The End” card. Years later Art Leonardi would redraw this sequence to use as a replacement for the ending title cards for The New Pink Panther Show. Like the title sequence, the film’s trailer is also available online. You can check it out right here if you’re curious.
But throughout this entire process, the important thing to understand is the DePatie-Freleng artists saw this as a gig. A gig they got killer publicity for, but a gig nonetheless. Friz Freleng was ready to move on, however, David DePatie was not. DePatie saw potential in the Pink Panther. And with such glowing praise from reviewers and audiences, maybe this character had legs? Plus, if DePatie’s mission was to make his new studio into the next Hanna-Barbera, they needed their own star character. They needed their own Mickey Mouse or Bugs Bunny. Despite Freleng’s skepticism, DePatie went back to the Mirisch Brothers asking if they could set up a meeting with United Artists.
Had DePatie not arranged this meeting, it’s safe to assume his studio would have been content operating as a commercial and title design studio. No different than say Pacific Title. Not necessarily a bad way to make a living. But what this meeting would do is finally give DePatie-Freleng an identity. The Mirisch Company and United Artists clearly saw what DePatie saw. That the Pink Panther could work outside a three-minute title sequence. While the iron was hot a contract was inked. And the deal? Hot damn! DePatie-Freleng was to produce over 150 new theatrical cartoons, including a series of Pink Panther shorts, to be released by United Artists. With some additional wrangling, DePatie was able to negotiate the sweetest plum. His company would own a third of the Panther’s copyright alongside Mirisch and Blake Edwards’ Geoffrey company. An astronomical deal for a studio before then mostly made Charlie the Tuna commercials. Friz was supposedly skeptical there’d be life beyond the titles. Still insisting it was nothing more than an assignment. Imagine his shock that he was now in charge of producing Pink Panther theatrical cartoons.
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In 1958 United Artists bought Associated Artists Production Inc. (or A.A.P. for short). From 1956 to 1957, A.A.P. made waves with its massive acquisitions and purchases for television releases. One of their biggest purchases was the entire pre-1948 Warner Bros’ filmography, copyright, and all. This would also include the pre-1948 Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons. A.A.P. would also purchase from Paramount the Popeye the Sailor series of theatrical shorts. The company became a little too spend-happy, resulting in them selling themselves off to United Artists becoming United Artists Associated (or U.A.A.). What United Artists soon realized was selling the Looney Tunes and Popeye shorts to television was a major money maker. While they didn’t own Bugs Bunny or Popeye, simply owning the cartoons proved to be enough commercial success in repackaging them for television. Every clown show or local TV network wanted a package of Looney Tunes to air on their kid's show. So if merely selling someone else’s cartoons was this successful, imagine the money to be made from owning a Bugs Bunny of your own lock, stock, and barrel. This is undoubtedly the reason United Artists pushed such a massive order of shorts to make. If Pink Panther cartoons could be a success in theaters it would instantly lead to success in repackaging them for television.
As always, the DePatie-Freleng crew went right back to work. But one thing was definitely on Friz’s mind now, “How do you take a character from a three-minute title sequence and make a whole series around it?’. The answer, I'm afraid, will have to wait until next time.
Next time, join me as we discuss the first Pink Panther short and how Friz Freleng answered the challenges of adapting a title sequence character to the short subject form.
A very special thank you to Charles Brubaker, Devon Baxter, and KaiserBeamz for their help and support on this article.
Sources:
-"Think Pink: The DePatie-Freleng Story” by Mark Arnold
-"The Art of the Pink Panther Movie Titles” Article by Jim Korkis
-"When A.A.P. Became U.A.A.” Article by Jerry Beck
-“Warner Club News (1958) | Part 1” Article by Jerry Beck
-"Warner Club News (1960) | Part 1” Article by Jerry Beck
-“Warner Club News (1963)” Article by Jerry Beck
-"The Last Days of ‘Looney Tunes’” Article by Jerry Beck
-"The Shutdown” Article by Yowp
-December 3, 1990 Interview with Maurice Noble by Michael Barrier and Milt Gray
-1980 Interview with Friz Freleng by Reg Hartt
-"Screen: Sellers Chases a Jewel Thief; Pink Panther' Opens at Music Hall” Review by The New York Times
-"Hey There” Article by Mark Evanier
-The Pink Panther Cartoon Collection Blu-ray Featurettes
