Chapter Twenty
Over the next couple of weeks, Walt and Ub worked together on developing the new rabbit character for Universal. It was decided that it would be taller than Julius the Cat and would feature long ears and big feet, not only to characterise him as a rabbit, but also to differentiate him from the other cartoon characters seen in theatres. Ub also explained that the rabbit’s rounder shapes made him easier to animate than the sharper angles of Julius. When Walt submitted the sketches to Mintz, he was non-committal, simply forwarding the concepts on to Universal.
After reviewing the drawings, Laemmle himself responded enthusiastically to them and sent a contract to Mintz to act as the go-between. The agreement, which was signed on 4 March 1927, called for twenty-six animated shorts featuring the rabbit character to be paid for by Mintz at $2,250 per film.
The name of the new character still needed to be decided. Together, Walt and his staff came up with a number of different ideas and sent them to Universal to make the final decision. Upon reaching Laemmle’s office, the names were thrown into a hat and the winning name was pulled out by P.D. Cochrane, Universal’s vice president of advertising. The new character finally had a name: Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.
Meanwhile, as the Walt Disney Studio finished its last Alice Comedy, Walt had Ub hard at work on producing the first Oswald film. Within two weeks, Ub and his team of animators, including Harman, Ising, and Freleng, had completed the film, Poor Papa. Walt provided some suggestions and criticisms, and the animators got back to work to make corrections before the final film was printed and shipped to Mintz in New York on 10 April. The short featured Oswald as a new father, overwhelmed by the sheer number of baby rabbits that his wife delivered. Over the next few minutes, Oswald finds himself becoming more and more angry as he chases his new sons and daughters around, many of whom are getting into mischief or causing destruction. At his wits’ end, he climbs up onto his roof, shotgun in hand, and begins firing at a fleet of storks preparing to drop more babies down the chimney. As the cartoon ends, the new father collapses against a wall, hand on forehead, resigned to the fact that he is now provider for dozens of children.
Charles Mintz was furious by what he saw. He jotted a frustrated note to Walt, explaining that Oswald was not being portrayed as a hero that audiences could get behind and was lost in the scores of characters in the film including a doctor, Oswald’s wife, the children, and an army of storks. He was also embarrassed by what Disney came up with because, he explained, the character of Oswald wasn’t much different than the other animated characters on the market. Instead, he suggested, Oswald should be “young, snappy-looking and wearing a monocle”. Universal agreed with Mintz’s assessment, explaining to Walt that Oswald was fat and old-looking. In a letter dated 15 April, Hal Hodes, the sales director of Universal’s Short Product & Complete Service Departments, explained that the animation was jerky and too repetitive, that Oswald wasn’t a humorous character, and that the gags in the film were unrelated and didn’t drive the story forward. As a result, it was decided that Universal wouldn’t release Poor Papa to theatres.
Walt was crushed. He responded to Mintz’s letter by explaining that he was accepting of the points made by Hodes, calling them “constructive criticism”. He went on to apologise to Mintz and Universal that Poor Papa was so disappointing, explaining that he himself was unhappy with the finished product and assuring Mintz that his team would revisit the character and method of storytelling in the next instalment.
It was literally back to the drawing board for Ub and Walt as they sat together and looked at the character. What is it that is distinct about Oswald the Lucky Rabbit from other cartoons on the market? they asked themselves. It was determined that they intended for Oswald to have his own personality on-screen, one that was grouchy, highly energetic, whose emotions were obvious and who solved problems in a distinctly creative manner. To capture this personality, they slightly changed the look of the character, making him appear more youthful and thinner than he did in Poor Papa. They also determined that Oswald himself wouldn’t cause gags through mischief, but rather respond to events unfolding around him in a creative way which would lead to a gag.
Taking this new philosophy towards the character, Ub quickly got to work on the second Oswald film, Trolley Troubles, completing it within two weeks for shipment to Mintz on 1 May. Universal was much happier with the second Oswald film, deciding to premiere the film on 4 July at Los Angeles’ Criterion Theater and on 9 July at New York’s Roxy Theater, going into general circulation throughout the nation on 5 September. Reviewers loved Oswald the Lucky Rabbit too, explaining that audiences erupted in laughter at the on-screen action, while Universal’s in-house newsletter called the short film a ‘sensation’. Throughout America, theatre marquees began to advertise ‘Oswald the Lucky Rabbit’, which drew just as many crowds to the theatres as the feature films. Jealous that Walt Disney was getting all the credit, Charles Mintz explained to him that the real credit should go to George Winkler, who had begun hanging out around the studio, delivering notes from his brother-in-law, and even occasionally consulting on the films.
Walt had finally found the success he’d been looking for since his entry into the world of film in 1921. With the success of Trolley Troubles, the Walt Disney Studio began to turn out new animated shorts every two weeks, receiving the agreed-upon amount of $2,250 per film from Mintz. To meet their schedule, Walt began hiring more animators and ink-and-painters, increasing the size of his staff from ten to twenty-two by the end of 1927. During this time, Walt drew extensively from his Kansas City crowd, hiring back Ham Hamilton and Carman Maxwell, as well as Les Clark, a young artist looking for an entry into the industry. With the added pressure of producing a popular and successful series, Walt’s expectations for his staff increased, to the chagrin of his artists. As a result, he had little mercy for Rudy Ising, firing the young man he’d worked with for years, when Rudy fell asleep while photographing one of the films.
Recognising the short timeline that delivering a film every two weeks necessitated, Walt made some changes to the structure of his studio. Production was divided into two separate units, putting his best animators, Ub Iwerks and Hugh Harman, in charge of each respective unit. He also instituted a more formalised process of developing the animated shorts. After the script of each one was typed out, Ub and Harman developed rough sketches of the action in each scene so that the animators assigned to a sequence knew how it would progress.
As the series continued, more characters were developed to accompany Oswald on his adventures. Some of the characters were recycled from the Alice Comedies, including the dachshund, police dog, and recurring villain, renamed Putrid Pete instead of Bootleg Pete. Recognising that Oswald needed a love interest, a female rabbit named Fanny was developed, which added a whole new layer of humour as the films’ protagonist was constantly vying for her attention, leading to scores of gags. After the sixth Oswald film, All Wet, Fanny was replaced by an unnamed female cat who would serve as his love interest until the end of the series.
The situations of the Oswald films varied. While the characters and personality of Oswald stayed consistent throughout the shorts, the roles of the cartoon rabbit changed from film to film. For example, in July’s Oh Teacher, Oswald played a schoolboy defending his sweetheart from the playground bully. In December’s Harem Scarem, Oswald was a tourist visiting a Moroccan café who fell in love with a belly-dancer. While the films were often situational comedies, the gags and details often came from the news and current events. For example, in September’s Rickety Gin, Oswald plays a cop who goes head-to-head against Putrid Pete, the head of a bootleg liquor gang in prohibition-era America.
With increased popularity, Universal began to actively advertise Oswald through an extensive marketing campaign. Merchandise featuring the Lucky Rabbit began to be offered to consumers, including a milk chocolate candy bar produced by Portland’s Vogan Candy Company. The bar became incredibly popular and itself was advertised in the windows of drug stores and in newspapers, only adding to the popularity of Walt Disney’s character.
As the studio staff increased and the papers continued to sing his praises, the executive of Walt Disney Studios began to feel like his work was worth more than what Mintz was paying him. In addition to the constant criticism of his films, the distributor became frustrated as Walt had begun playing hardball, requesting that the price per film be increased to $2,500.
Unbeknownst to Walt, Mintz instructed George Winkler to begin holding secret meetings with Walt’s animators in the evenings, planting ideas in their heads that their boss was creating a foul working environment. Citing the recent firing of Rudy Ising, Winkler suggested that Oswald’s recent success was making Walt paranoid and abusive, willing to stoop to whatever means possible to ensure his own success at the expense of his staff.
As the top artist working at the Walt Disney Studio, Ub was one of the first approached by Winkler to turn against his boss. However, Ub’s devotion to his friend, which extended back to their time together at Pesmen-Rubin, overcame the lies being told by the distributor. He mentioned the clandestine meetings to Walt who, in his pride, refused to believe what his friend told him and feigned unconcern.
Married life continued to be good for both Walt and Lillian. Their house felt even more like a home when, on Christmas Day 1927, he presented her with a wrapped hatbox. As Walt handed Lillian the gift, it shifted and moved in her hands, feeling much heavier than she expected a hat to be. A small scratching and whimpering noise came from inside the box as she began to untie the ribbon that held the top on. When she lifted the top, she gasped as she discovered a small puppy inside the box. Lillian was immediately smitten with the small Chow and named the new addition to the family Sunnee.
Meanwhile, as the first series of twenty-six Oswald films came to a close, Walt decided it was time to negotiate the subsequent series with Mintz: if Universal expected the Walt Disney Studios to continue producing Oswald the Lucky Rabbit at the same high quality, the price delivered per film would need to increase. Walt determined that the best way to conduct what he assumed would be difficult negotiations was to visit Mintz in person rather than send telegrams. Thus, in February 1928, Walt and Lillian Disney boarded a train to New York City, leaving Roy in charge of the studio.
Without Walt’s knowledge, Winkler had made the decision to move forward with producing Oswald shorts without Walt’s leadership. As Walt was heading east by locomotive, Charles Mintz signed a new three-year contract with Universal to produce Oswald shorts. Tired of the constant begging for money and control over creative license that Walt demanded, Mintz determined that George Winkler would become the new head of animation over the Oswald films and ordered Winkler to sign new contracts with all the Disney artists in Walt’s absence. Only Ub Iwerks and Les Clark refused to turn on their friend, choosing instead to resign rather than become employees of Mintz.
As Walt entered Charles Mintz’s office in New York, unaware of what was transpiring in Los Angeles, he could perceive that something was awry. Sitting down at the negotiating table, Walt made his request that his studio be paid an additional $250 per film than the previous season. Mintz countered with an offer of $1,800 per film.
Walt was incredulous. He was having a hard-enough time producing a film on $2,250 using the staff he already had, he explained. How could he possibly produce a high-quality film for $450 less?
Mintz explained that the offer of $1,800 per film stood. Not only that, he went on, but Walt would no longer be in charge of the studio but rather a subcontractor who would submit to George Winkler, the new head of production.
As Walt left Charles Mintz’s studio that afternoon, he wandered out in a daze. What had happened? What would he do? He realised that he needed to get word back to Roy in California to secure his artists before Mintz’s plan went into action.
“There’s a break with Charlie looming,” Walt explained in a telegram to his brother. “Write a new contract with the boys before we’re undermined. Offer them a 10 per cent pay increase with the option for bonuses, too. Don’t worry – everything is okay.” Unfortunately, Walt was too late.
The next day, when Walt returned to Mintz’s office, he began to make threats that he would find a new distributor for the Oswald films through unless he received the $2,500 per film he asked for. Mintz laughed in his face. Walt couldn’t legally negotiate with another studio without ole’ Charlie Mintz, he explained. Walt Disney Studios didn’t own Oswald the Lucky Rabbit: Mintz did.
There was little Walt Disney could do. While he had created Oswald the Lucky Rabbit with Ub Iwerks and his name was on the studio that produced the shorts, film distributors in the early part of the twentieth century owned the rights to the character. This meant that legally, since Poor Papa debuted in 1927, Oswald and his twenty-six animated shorts never belonged to Walt but to Mintz the entire time.
Walt recognised that in his naivety, Mintz had won. Standing in the doorway of the distributor’s office, he conceded defeat and told Mintz he could have Oswald. The young artist had one more thing to offer his devious previous distributor: a strong word of advice.
“Watch your back, Charlie,” he explained. “If the boys abandoned me, they’ll do the same to you.” Walt’s prophecy to Mintz ended up coming true: in 1929, Universal decided to part ways with Charles Mintz when they gave the series to Walter Lantz, whom Mintz had hired to direct the Oswald shorts after stealing the character from Walt Disney. Lantz and Universal would go on to create new Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoons until 1938.
Returning to the hotel to find Lillian, Walt didn’t need to tell his wife anything: she knew by his mannerism that the fight was over.
“Let’s get out of this hell hole,” he suggested. Stopping by the Western Union office at a New York train station, he sent word back to Roy: LEAVING TONIGHT, STOPPING OVER IN KANSAS CITY. EVERYTHING OK.
Together, Walt and Lillian boarded the New York Central Cannonball to return to Los Angeles. Walt’s final conversation with Charles Mintz had left him a changed man. Feeling like the richest man in the world when he arrived in New York City not two weeks before due to the success he’d experienced with Oswald, he was returning home impoverished, realising that he’d owned nothing. He recognised that in this world, the only person one could truly trust was oneself. He vowed he would never work for another person the rest of his life.
As the New York Central Cannonball followed the sun westward towards Los Angeles on 13 March 1928, Walt Disney felt like he was leaving his dreams behind.
The 26-year-old artist had five days to stew about the injustice that had been done to him by the artists he’d trusted most and Charles Mintz. He had decided that, while he had been betrayed, finishing the current season of Oswald cartoons would be the right thing to do. If all went according to schedule, the final animated film, Hot Dog, would be completed and submitted to Universal on 3 August.
As the train sped through Missouri a few evenings after Walt and Lillian left New York, the conductor stepped into the first-class cabin and announced that they would be stopping in a little town called Marceline to refuel; passengers were welcome to step off the train to stretch on the platform, even though it was the middle of the night.
Walt contemplated whether to get off the train or not. Marceline had been so special to him. It had taught him about hard work, discipline, and community. Some good those lessons did me, he scoffed to himself. Even though he had been disciplined and worked hard to follow his dreams, they’d never been his for the taking. And not only that, but the community he’d built over the years at Laugh-O-gram and the Walt Disney Studios had abandoned him.
He realised that living in Marceline had also taught him to never give up, primarily through watching his father do everything he could to maintain the family farm and attempt to convince his neighbours to better their lots against the banks and railroad companies. In the end, his fondness for his Marceline years won him over and he decided he would give this animation business one more shot. Reaching over, he gently shook Lillian awake and told her he wanted to get off the train in his Marceline during their one-hour stop-over to show off the small town he was so proud of.
After their short stop in Marceline, the train continued on to Kansas City, where the young couple disembarked to spend a day touring to help break up the monotony of the journey. As they wandered around the city, Walt showed Lillian the Bellefontaine house that served as the hub for Elias’s paper route. He recounted the years getting up hours before dawn, sometimes in the freezing cold, to deliver newspapers, explaining that it had taught him to work hard simply because it was the right thing to do, even in the face of adversity. They passed the Scottish Rite temple where Walt had been inducted as a DeMolay in 1920, where Dad Land instilled in him the importance of fidelity, courtesy, comradeship, and creativity. Walt even took the time to show his wife where he worked for Pesmen-Rubin, the Kansas City Film Ad Company, and finally the Laugh-O-gram studio, explaining how he’d started as a simple lettering artist and had worked his way up to become one of the premier producers of animated shorts in Kansas City.
As their time in Kansas City came to an end, the couple made their way through the Grand Hall and into the North Waiting Room of Union Station. Walt recalled how, for years, he had visited Union Station every week to bathe because in his homelessness, he didn’t have running water otherwise.
Standing beneath the large glowing clock, Walt realised he had a major decision to make and little time to do it in. His decision had two options, but only one terminus could be chosen: should he simply give up following his dream and potentially lead Lillian and himself into financial ruin as he did when he had been living in the Laugh-O-gram studio, or would he choose to work hard, overcome adversity, and use his creativity to press forward and change the route to achieving his dream?
As the couple made their way through the west doors of the North Waiting Room, down the wooden staircase to the platforms below, and stepped onto the train that would lead them home to Los Angeles, Walt had made his decision.
But how to get to his dream? How would he restart and rise from the ashes to once again become a somebody in the world of animation?
As the train began moving and headed west out of Kansas City, it passed a small forest of trees. He remembered goofing around at Swope Park with his artists while he operated Laugh-O-gram and how he had released his pet mice into the park when he decided to move to California.
Mice. Nobody had created an animated mouse before.
“I’m thinking about making a new character,” Walt suggested to Lillian. “A mouse. I’ll call him Mortimer.”
“Mortimer? That doesn’t sound quite right,” Lillian said.
Walt raised his eyebrow. His wife sat quietly, watching the trees fly past the windows. Turning to look at Walt, she made another suggestion.
“What about Mickey?”