Fred Seibert's Blog

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

After trying, and failing, to convince Nickelodeon to go “back to the future” of animation, and use classic cartoon style shorts to create their innovative entry into the animated programming biz (they did better than great without me), my company continued to consult cable TV networks on branding and advertising.

“So,” said Scott Sassa, President of Ted Turner’s entertainment networks, “do you want to come out to Hollywood and run Hanna-Barbera for us?”

Was he crazy?!

I’d been a jazz record producer, a cable television promotion executive, and a marketing and branding entrepreneur; one thing I certainly was not was a producer of cartoons. Sure, I’d had my hand in making a few TV series, but they were mainly run by my partners, Alan Goodman and Albie Hecht. And it was clear I loved cartoons; I often loudly proclaimed that my childhood of cartoon watching was the best preparation for the groundbreaking work we did with rock’n’roll and television on MTV. But, actually make the cartoons? How was I supposed to do that? I knew next to nothing about cartoon production, I knew absolutely nothing about scripts and stories, and I knew nothing about how Hollywood worked. And Hollywood was the home of Hanna-Barbera Productions, and one of the reasons Ted Turner wanted to studio to begin with.

The announcement of my becoming President of Hanna-Barbera Productions was made the day of the LA riots in April of 1992; I started full time in June. Shown my giant corner office, originally built as Bill Hanna’s when the building opened in 1961, I was so frightened I didn’t sit at the custom built desk for over six months; I just parked myself on one corner of Bill’s couch and just shivered every day as studio staff and others came in one by one wanting something resembling smarts from me.

But unlike some of my friends and colleagues, I loved Hanna-Barbera. Especially the great early years, when Joe Barbera and his crack team invented Huckleberry Hound, Yogi, The Flintstones and the others, and Bill Hanna streamlined the animation production systems into the unlimited imagination of limited animation (thanks Billll Burnett). And I remembered the charge I’d been getting for the fifteen years I’d been traveling to Los Angeles and passing that great building with the “HANNA-BARBERA” sign up on the top.

And, I had this nutty idea about shorts.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8.

Our career making cartoons was over before it began. We continued to consult on cable network branding and promoting Nickelodeon’s first original slate of animation, but it looked that our idea of using shorts to find the new generation of stars was going to be another one of those ‘coulda been’ things.

Alan Goodman and I had been involved in more than 10 years of building, branding, and programming cable TV networks and we were a little bored by it. Everyone wanted to know our secrets, but were more interested in paying for programming than branding. Never shy, I kept whining and by February of 92 we were completely exasperated at an endless, annoying negotiation with MTV Networks; we woke up on a Tuesday morning and announced the end of our company after 12 years. No plans, no nothing, just please make it stop.

The very next morning Scott Sassa, then the President of Ted Turner’s entertainment networks (eventually President of the NBC Television Network) and always on top of the best gossip, called and told me he’d heard about our closing, reminding me that Turner had just purchased the venerable Hanna-Barbera cartoon studio. Half listening I glanced down at my cartoon watch; it was 10:35am and, believe it or not, at 12 was Fred Flinstone, 3 was Yogi Bear, 6 was Scooby, and 9 was Huckleberry Hound! (It’s not the watch up above, by the way. When I find it, I’ll snap a pic and replace it.)

“So,” says Scott, “do you want to come out to Hollywood and run Hanna-Barbera for us?”

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7.

When we last left off our story (before yesterday’s philisophical diversion), in 1989 Nickelodeon had decided that our idea of doing 1940s styled short cartoons was mostly wrong, but kind of right. Instead, against current TV tradition, using our advice they were going to pilot animated series with off-the-beaten-track, alternative animation studios. They offered my company, Fred/Alan, one of the first pilots.

Nickelodeon’s programming executive sent over their deal memo as promised. I took a look at it and called him back.

“So I see there are ten deal points.”

“Yes,” the network executive said.

“And the first is that if you’re unhappy with our work –our work on our original cartoon– you can fire us at any time and replace us with a producer of your choice. On our cartoon.”

“Yes.”

Now, I was used to the fact that the world had changed when it came to the business of cable television. In traditional broadcasting (CBS, NBC, & ABC), because of a bunch of arcane legal mumbo jumbo, it was common practice that a network could not own any part of a program, the producer owned it all. Cable was not bound by any ownership restrictions, and it was already common practice that the network could own everything, the producer nothing, and if you wanted your show on the air that was the deal. We didn’t particularly like it, but we had accepted it as the way business was done. But, we didn’t much like the idea that a punk executive like the one we were dealing with enjoyed rubbing it our faces so much. I mean, OK you own it all you control it all you can tell us what to do and you can fire us at any time. But, gimme a break; at least make it point 7 of 10. Don’t humiliate us with your power right up top.

With the permission of my partners Alan Goodman and Albie Hecht I asked, “Have you ever heard the sound of paper ripping over the telephone?”

Our career in cartoons was over before it began.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7.

Over a year ago I started what I figured would be a quick round-up of how we got to where we are today in the short cartoon game. But with the launch of Channel Frederator in November things got a lot busier than I would have ever imagined. And we haven’t even gotten to the first short we made. So here’s the first six posts and we’ll pick up where we left off.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Looking back on the first parts of this story and the almost 20 years since it started I realize we’ve mid-wifed almost 150 original short cartoons and over 1000 more their creators made when the shorts prospered as series. All in the face of an industry that to this day has virtually abandoned the short form which had made it rich (historians like Jerry Beck or Michael Barrier are in a better position to speculate why it happened). The obvious question would be why beat our heads against the wall so constantly when it might be easier to do what everyone else is doing?

To begin with when confronted with the idea of actually being involved with making cartoons I looked around to see what cartoons were the greatest ever. Not the best of the day (late 80s) but the best of all time. Like everyone else I’m a product of my past (I’m 54, so I started watching screens in the early 1950s) so my first exposure to cartoons was the shoveling of theatrical cartoons from the first half of the 20th century onto the fledgling medium of television. From Farmer Gray to Disney shorts, from Out of the Inkwell to Mighty Mouse I was in love with them all. But, of course, I mostly loved the Looney Tunes, which then and now, I thought were absolutely unparalleled. So the first seed of shorts addiction was in by 1960.

Like most people (though not most of this blog’s readers) I stopped watching cartoons regularly around 11 or 12 and graduated to pop music, propelled by the Beatles coming to America in 1964. So begins another devotion to a short form of popular culture, the Top 40. No matter where my musical travels have brought me, from art-rock through avant-garde jazz, the economy of pop from Benny Goodman to The Beatles to Nirvana has been, for me, the cornerstone of the one of the most inventive arts to have descended onto earth.

My initial instinct when asked about making cartoons was to make them like the ultimate, like Looney Tunes. Not that I thought we could ever equal them, and, of course, I had no idea how Looney Tunes were made; my initial thoughts, had they been implemented would have been abject failures. But when I met John Kricfalusi he gave me a quick tutorial on the primacy of the artist in cartooning, and with further discussions with Joe Barbera, Bill Hanna, Friz Freleng and others I decided that I would attempt to make cartoons primarily created by artists/animators/directors rather than writers or executives (not to ignore either, but rather, to put them in their appropriate place in the creative mix). And it seemed to me (still does) that a short form is a better form to start films with artists. Cartoons are more character based than story and plot driven, and rather than put artist/creators at disadvantage, the short form could allow the artist with character and story predilections to be at his or her strongest from the get go. Shorts seem like the ideal artist film medium.

So, from the beginning the wallop and the sense of the short form sat right with me. Let’s emulate the greatest ever and since the greatest were short (averaging around seven minutes), by golly, come hell or high water, that’s what we were going to do.

(More next time. Soon, I hope.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

It’s been a couple of months, but these are my sporadically continuing postings of how we starting producing original cartoons. As usual, feel free to interrupt with any questions.

So, Nickelodeon was not going to exactly follow my suggestions as to how they should get into original animation? So, I was frustrated beyond belief? So, what was I going to do about it?

Nothing.

We weren’t in the animation business. Sure Fred/Alan had a small production company run by our college friend Albie Hecht, and sure, we wanted to produce anything we could, including cartoon shows. But, our main business was network consulting, branding, and advertising, and the animation we were involved with was mainly 10 second network IDs and commercials. And it sure wasn’t the first time our clients had ignored our advice and gone their own way. But, as usual, it wasn’t completely their own way, and they felt like they were following what they saw as the best part of our approach. As we had inculcated into their culture, the network would go off the beaten path looking for skilled talent who could make fresh, animated series that wouldn’t look or feel anything like the mainstream (i.e. Hanna-Barbera), without sacrificing quality. The shows might have a new look, but they’d follow classic entertainment values, they’d include great characters and great stories. And instead of relying only on an in-office pitch, they’d make short pilots to see whether the final film would really ’sing’ before committing to a series.

Fine, I thought. A tenth of a loaf is better than none, better than the times they ignored us completely. And besides, the network production executive was on the phone offering us a deal to make one of the pilots!

Usually we jumped at these kind of phone calls, but this time I was unsure. As I had told Debby and Anne at the very first breakfast, we knew nothing about character based cartoon shows, and while my partners Alan and Albie would probably vehemently disagree (Let’s get a shot at fiction! Any shot!), I felt like it was too complicated for us to come up with an idea, write it, and find one of our animator friends to execute. I told this to the executive, he flatteringly disagreed, and I said send over the deal memo.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.
Part 3. Part 4.

It was hard hearing from Nickelodeon that they didn’t like everything about our cartoon ideas.

So, as was usual in the 80s, Nickelodeon loved our idea of how to get into original cartoons in a thoroughly original way, but they felt the need to adapt it their way, as was their right. And, also usual for the 80s, we were both thrilled to have sparked their actions, but simultaneously incredibly frustrated that they needed to change our approach.

“Change it?” you say. “How?” They listened to us carefully about how Looney Tunes did it. They loved the idea of getting fresh creative people not generally involved in the mainstream animation biz of the 80s (no Hanna-Barbera, no Ruby-Spears, no Filmation). They loved the idea of short pilots to test the ideas for a reasonable price…

Wait a minute! That’s where they veered off course. At least as far as my idea went.

What I loved about the Looney Tunes model was that the shorts they made in the 30s & 40s had nothing to do with the concept of “pilots.” The WB powers-that-be greenlit an original character picture by one of Termite Terrace teams, they made the picture, they put it in the theatres. They listened for laughter directly from the audience, and if they laughed enough they made more shorts. If not, that the was the end of the line for our hapless original character. They did not play the cartoon for a few people in a room (like a focus group), decided they liked the thing, and then start ‘developing’ it before they would make another.

Nickelodeon decided because they were in the TV business, you couldn’t really take that approach. Pilots were the way to go. Make a short film, whatever the length as long as it was short, focus group it, ‘develop’ it, and go. Now, like I said in the last post, this approach worked, and Nick changed the animation world with Ren&Stimpy, Rugrats, and Doug, so God bless them.

But, in my opinion, our approach was essentially different. In no real order:

* A filmmaker making a short that will actually be seen by an audience conceives it unlike a picture made for a group of executives. I don’t really have to explain thia thought further, right?

* A cartoon made to be played on television will be, by it’s nature, a more disciplined affair. At the very least, the network will usually set a format, a length, for the picture. Working to a parameter almost always has the filmmaker paying closer attention to the details.

* Modeling your projects on the best films ever made will invariably allow you to score better.

From my humble vantage point, the best cartoons ever made were the Looney Tunes, the Disney shorts, the Fleischers. I figure, if you’re going into a new area of creative exploration (as was Nickelodeon by going into animation), start by looking at the best. Don’t look at the Snorks and feel that’s the baseline you need to beat.

To be perfectly honest, there was probably no reason for me to be disheartened. I was really annoyed the Nickelodeon team did not follow my plan exactly. I know they were successful, but I wanted them to do it my way. And for all my whining, complaining, and rationales, for no other reason than I liked my way.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.
Part 3. Part 4.

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.
Part 3.

I am admiring of how Nickelodeon went about interpreting our suggestions for getting into the original cartoon business in the late 80s. They listened respectfully to our approach to go back-to-the-future of cartoon creation to model their entry on Looney Tunes. That is, make a single, short cartoon, with highly talented and skilled filmmakers, show it to the audience, and, if they like it, make more.

So, as the best clients often do, they took what they wanted from that advice, and did it their way.

And their way worked like crazy. Nick’s head of development & production (now Chairman) Herb Scannell enlisted the help of Vanessa Coffey and Mary Harrington, two cartoon novices (though with oodles more experience than Herb, or me for that matter). Herb, Vanessa, and Mary identified five indie studios to make pilots: John K’s Spumco, Klasky-Csupo, Jim Jinkin’s Jumbo, Joey Ahlbum, and I don’t remember the fifth. The results made animation history, and changed the game in TV animation forever: Ren & Stimpy, Rugrats, and Doug, all from Nickelodeon’s initial foray into original cartoons.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.
Part 3.

Oh Yeah! Cartoons, started in 1998, but our minds were on original cartoons as far back as the 80s.

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.

Nickelodeon loved our idea for animation shorts. So they changed it all around.

(A short aside. Alan and I had been among the original employees at MTV Networks, parent of Nickelodeon. As the first creative directors, we established the whole promotion/brand/logo scheme for MTV, and, humbly, we carried some clout at the company. When we struck out on our own and set up Fred/Alan, MTVN’s Bob Pittman hired us back as consultants. Sounded great.

We quickly found out that consultants are often respected and listened to. Sort of. Over the years I’ve come to see that a consultant will come up with a ‘Big Idea’ for his/her client, which I liken to a bright, bouncy, light balloon. The client, on the other hand, sees said idea a beautiful, fragrant, heavy loaf of bread. Which they can cut up, take the most tasteful slices, and give back the rest.)

Our clients at Nick always liked our ideas, and the notion of new, short cartoons done by new creative talent fit their sense of themselves like a hand-in-glove. So, when they told us they were moving ahead with animation pilots, they thought they were agreeing with us.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.

Oh Yeah! Cartoons, started in 1998, but our minds were on original cartoons as far back as the 80s.

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1.

Quickly improvising, I put all the meager knowledge I had of cartoons and the cartoon biz into a jumble of sentences.

The way I looked at it was Looney Tunes were considered the cartoon ideal of my Beatle-like view of contemporary art and culture; the films were the height of the art and unbelievably popular too. A great one-two punch. They were also short (cheaper to make than a half hour series), funny (kids like funny better than anything over the long run), and eclectic (sure, Bugs was the star, but they tried dozens of characters over the years to find their hits).

(Of course, this fit my view of our interests too. In my mind, I was trying to get my company into this new Nick/animation equation. If I could weave a senario that was unique in the contemporary landscape, who else would they entrust this new effort too, but the innovative folks at Fred/Alan?)

Nickelodeon prided itself as doing kids TV differently than the conventional wisdom (remember, this was the 80s, when Saturday morning television ruled the roost in the family industry, when tired formulas and commercialized toy-animation was seen as the only profitable route, when cynical executives decreed foolishness about kids every day).

It seemed this approach to lots of shorts by off-the-beaten-path talent was the perfect path for Nick to travel into animation.

Debby and Ann were enthusiastic. Looked like I was in like Flynn. Sort of.

(More next time.)
Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1.