Articles
Animation Craze: The Convoluted History of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit
Before there was a mouse in the Walt Disney house, there was a rabbit. A rather unassuming creature-black and white with a rounded, simplistic design masterminded by Disney's brilliant early animator, Ub Iwerks-the hare, dubbed Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, made his debut in theaters in 1927. Oswald's tenure as Disney's first animated star was brief; the studio produced twenty-six Oswald shorts over the course of the next year, before Disney was forced to give up ownership of the character to his distributor. While many of the Disney-helmed Oswald cartoons are sadly now lost to the ravages of time, those that remain show modern audiences Disney and Iwerks' first true steps toward animated immortality.
Disney's first series, a live-action/animated hybrid called the Alice Comedies, was a popular draw with audiences, but the shorts were sometimes logistically difficult to construct. When that series concluded in 1927, Disney and Iwerks decided to craft a new figure to star in a fresh series of wholly animated shorts. The pair had a ready-made character that could have been easily spun off into his own series: Julius, the animated cat who accompanied Alice on her many adventures. But with cats being overly popular cartoon creatures (led by Otto Messmer's fantastical Felix), Disney decided a rabbit would be a better bet that would set Disney Studios apart from their Hollywood rivals.
Oswald the Lucky Rabbit made his debut in September 1927 in a cartoon called Trolley Troubles. Animated entirely by Iwerks (who worked at such an impressive pace that he was able to produce an Oswald cartoon every two weeks), the silent short was an almost instant success. The animation was not precisely groundbreaking; Trolley Troubles shows definite influences from the Fleischer brothers (in the undulating, almost rubbery movement of the characters) and Messmer (in Oswald's inventive use of his own body as a prop, when he snaps off his own 'lucky rabbit's foot,' rubs his head with it, and then pops it back on almost nonchalantly). And like many silent-era cartoons, the plot itself is almost an afterthought in favor of cramming wall-to-wall visual gags into every frame. But there is nonetheless a distinct liveliness to the character of Oswald that sets him apart from other animated stars of the time, and that joyful exuberance lends itself well to the highly physical humor of the Oswald series.
Still, while that physicality adds much to the entertainment of these cartoons, the strength of the Oswald shorts is really found in the development of their star. Oswald is a gem of early personality animation: appealing, mischievous, and fun, his utter expressiveness-especially through those big, saucer-sized eyes-makes his thought processes clear to us even without the benefit of dialogue or intertitles. Iwerks' ingenious design of the character allows for a particular freedom of movement that highlights Oswald's cartoony nature while also lending the rabbit an odd sense of humanity.
That skillful design aesthetic extends to the world of each cartoon at large. Iwerks crafts some rather clever visual tricks in the Oswald shorts, utilizing a bold graphic style that makes the characters practically pop off the screen while playing with shadow and perspective in unexpected ways. In the 1928 short Oh, What a Knight-a cartoon largely influenced by popular actor Douglas Fairbanks, whose onscreen exploits reportedly colored Oswald's animated adventures-Oswald's shadow even becomes an integral part of the plot, as he leaves it to continue a climactic swordfight against his opponent while he sneaks away to steal a kiss from his sweetie.
(Oswald Model Sheet)
In 1928, Disney lost control of the character to his producer, Charles Mintz, who hired away most of Disney's production staff-except Iwerks, who remained loyal to his longtime friend-and began making his own series of Oswald shorts. By most accounts, the experience hardened Disney, leaving him feeling betrayed yet determined to never experience the loss of one of his creations ever again. Disney and Iwerks began collaborating on a new character, one whose rounded, black-and-white design and mischievous personality mirrored Oswald in many ways. Christened Mickey Mouse, Disney's new creation would change the face of animation, becoming one of the most iconic pop culture figures of all time. And while the loss of Oswald certainly stung, Disney was soon thrilled by the overwhelming success of Mickey and his cheerily animated adventures.
While Oswald cartoons continued to be produced well into the 1930s-first at Mintz's own studio, then by Universal's Walter Lantz until the series was discontinued in 1943-the earliest-produced Oswald shorts were all but forgotten until the Disney corporation negotiated to regain the rights to the character eighty years later. In 2006, Oswald finally returned to the Disney nest, as the company once again took control of the character after trading their ABC/ESPN football commentator Al Michaels to NBC-held Universal in exchange for the copyright (yes, this really happened). Disney promptly began integrating Oswald into their character lineup, and when he was paired with his 'brother' Mickey in the Nintendo Wii game Epic Mickey in 2010, Oswald was finally introduced to a whole new generation.
In 2007, Disney finally brought Oswald to home video as part of its Walt Disney Treasures collection. The two-disc set features thirteen of the surviving Oswald shorts from 1927 and 1928, many newly restored and boasting appropriately jaunty new soundtracks by talented silent film composer Robert Israel. Even though a few of the cartoons in this set are admittedly degraded in parts due to age and ill care, it is still amazing to see Oswald in all his animated glory despite notable scratches, dings, and damage to some prints. The set also includes numerous bonus features such as documentaries on the character, commentaries on selected cartoons, and a detailed examination of Oswald's main animator, Ub Iwerks; as a bonus treat, the set also includes several famous Iwerks-animated shorts, including the first Silly Symphony, 1929's The Skeleton Dance, and Mickey's legendary star-making vehicle Steamboat Willie (1928).
Both discs of The Adventures of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit set are available for rent here at ClassicFlix.
Brandie Ashe no longer eats cold cereal while wearing footy pajamas...but does maintain a love for all things animated. She is one of four passionate classic film authors at True Classics.
Disney's first series, a live-action/animated hybrid called the Alice Comedies, was a popular draw with audiences, but the shorts were sometimes logistically difficult to construct. When that series concluded in 1927, Disney and Iwerks decided to craft a new figure to star in a fresh series of wholly animated shorts. The pair had a ready-made character that could have been easily spun off into his own series: Julius, the animated cat who accompanied Alice on her many adventures. But with cats being overly popular cartoon creatures (led by Otto Messmer's fantastical Felix), Disney decided a rabbit would be a better bet that would set Disney Studios apart from their Hollywood rivals.
Oswald the Lucky Rabbit made his debut in September 1927 in a cartoon called Trolley Troubles. Animated entirely by Iwerks (who worked at such an impressive pace that he was able to produce an Oswald cartoon every two weeks), the silent short was an almost instant success. The animation was not precisely groundbreaking; Trolley Troubles shows definite influences from the Fleischer brothers (in the undulating, almost rubbery movement of the characters) and Messmer (in Oswald's inventive use of his own body as a prop, when he snaps off his own 'lucky rabbit's foot,' rubs his head with it, and then pops it back on almost nonchalantly). And like many silent-era cartoons, the plot itself is almost an afterthought in favor of cramming wall-to-wall visual gags into every frame. But there is nonetheless a distinct liveliness to the character of Oswald that sets him apart from other animated stars of the time, and that joyful exuberance lends itself well to the highly physical humor of the Oswald series.
Still, while that physicality adds much to the entertainment of these cartoons, the strength of the Oswald shorts is really found in the development of their star. Oswald is a gem of early personality animation: appealing, mischievous, and fun, his utter expressiveness-especially through those big, saucer-sized eyes-makes his thought processes clear to us even without the benefit of dialogue or intertitles. Iwerks' ingenious design of the character allows for a particular freedom of movement that highlights Oswald's cartoony nature while also lending the rabbit an odd sense of humanity.
That skillful design aesthetic extends to the world of each cartoon at large. Iwerks crafts some rather clever visual tricks in the Oswald shorts, utilizing a bold graphic style that makes the characters practically pop off the screen while playing with shadow and perspective in unexpected ways. In the 1928 short Oh, What a Knight-a cartoon largely influenced by popular actor Douglas Fairbanks, whose onscreen exploits reportedly colored Oswald's animated adventures-Oswald's shadow even becomes an integral part of the plot, as he leaves it to continue a climactic swordfight against his opponent while he sneaks away to steal a kiss from his sweetie.
(Oswald Model Sheet)
In 1928, Disney lost control of the character to his producer, Charles Mintz, who hired away most of Disney's production staff-except Iwerks, who remained loyal to his longtime friend-and began making his own series of Oswald shorts. By most accounts, the experience hardened Disney, leaving him feeling betrayed yet determined to never experience the loss of one of his creations ever again. Disney and Iwerks began collaborating on a new character, one whose rounded, black-and-white design and mischievous personality mirrored Oswald in many ways. Christened Mickey Mouse, Disney's new creation would change the face of animation, becoming one of the most iconic pop culture figures of all time. And while the loss of Oswald certainly stung, Disney was soon thrilled by the overwhelming success of Mickey and his cheerily animated adventures.
While Oswald cartoons continued to be produced well into the 1930s-first at Mintz's own studio, then by Universal's Walter Lantz until the series was discontinued in 1943-the earliest-produced Oswald shorts were all but forgotten until the Disney corporation negotiated to regain the rights to the character eighty years later. In 2006, Oswald finally returned to the Disney nest, as the company once again took control of the character after trading their ABC/ESPN football commentator Al Michaels to NBC-held Universal in exchange for the copyright (yes, this really happened). Disney promptly began integrating Oswald into their character lineup, and when he was paired with his 'brother' Mickey in the Nintendo Wii game Epic Mickey in 2010, Oswald was finally introduced to a whole new generation.
In 2007, Disney finally brought Oswald to home video as part of its Walt Disney Treasures collection. The two-disc set features thirteen of the surviving Oswald shorts from 1927 and 1928, many newly restored and boasting appropriately jaunty new soundtracks by talented silent film composer Robert Israel. Even though a few of the cartoons in this set are admittedly degraded in parts due to age and ill care, it is still amazing to see Oswald in all his animated glory despite notable scratches, dings, and damage to some prints. The set also includes numerous bonus features such as documentaries on the character, commentaries on selected cartoons, and a detailed examination of Oswald's main animator, Ub Iwerks; as a bonus treat, the set also includes several famous Iwerks-animated shorts, including the first Silly Symphony, 1929's The Skeleton Dance, and Mickey's legendary star-making vehicle Steamboat Willie (1928).
Both discs of The Adventures of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit set are available for rent here at ClassicFlix.
Brandie Ashe no longer eats cold cereal while wearing footy pajamas...but does maintain a love for all things animated. She is one of four passionate classic film authors at True Classics.