“THE WIZARD OF OZ — THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY” IS NOW 35 😊
Part One – By John Fricke
Above: This is the front dust jacket cover of the book that celebrated the golden anniversary of MGM’s THE WIZARD OF OZ just 35 years ago this summer . . . and on into that autumn and winter. Once the volume hit stores the third week of July 1989, there was such an immediate public response that Warner Books was propelled into two additional hard-cover printings well before the end of August.
This summer, the media launched – with doubtless more to come — all the expected (and still darn thrilling!) hoopla warranted by the 85th anniversary of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 motion picture, THE WIZARD OF OZ. There’s a revitalized DVD package, a raft of glowing new products and merchandising, a schedule of special screenings and festivals, and a coming documentary. There’s also a mounting series of YouTube-posted “reaction videos,” wherein numerous young adults have recorded themselves as they watch the movie for the first time. (Some of them are instantly gleeful. Others initially manifest or feign blasé sophistication. Yet all end up enthralled and rapturous by the end of the picture.) Social media, too, is in its own furor, mingling new peaks of Ozzy enthusiasm with unfortunate and burgeoning idiocies of inaccurate declarations, gossip, and dark-dark-dark stupidity.
Mostly, however, it’s once again been about joy and magic and memories – which brings me to the topic of this month’s blog. Amidst all the recent Ozzy Facebook offerings, I’ve been grateful and proud to encounter a raft of postings about THE WIZARD OF OZ: THE OFFICIAL 50TH ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY. That was the first of the eight Fricke books to date, and it was done in conjunction with collectors Jay Scarfone and William Stillman. As noted in the caption above, it hit stores in July 1989, enjoyed three hardcover printings in just seven weeks, and reappeared as an oversize trade paperback in 1990 (and again in 1998). Originally bound in an emerald-colored covering, it instantly became known among fans as “the green book” — nomenclature it retains to this day. 😊
I hope any pride-between-the-lines here – and as I write along – will be pardonable. That “green book” continues to inspire exhilaration and gratitude in me; it was more-or-less the launching pad for these past 35 years of Oz and/or Judy Garland related activities. Without getting into the specifics, I am in awe at how many of them there have been, and I am bound to be thankful.
Anyway, I thought a look-back on how that first project came into existence might be of interest, particularly in terms of the discoveries made along the way. Oz devotees continue to this day to present copies to be autographed; they pose questions about the content; and if they’re comparatively new Ozians, they kindly and/or rabidly exult over the art, the anecdotes, and all.
That book essentially grew out of a lunch date here in New York City roughly four years earlier. Brad Saiontz was visiting from Boston and reached out to me as a fellow Oz fan; he was also a keen collector and showed me a couple of exciting OZ stills I’d never before seen. (Little did anyone know in the mid-1980s how many mountains of 1938-39 OZ visuals would come to light in succeeding decades!) What made Brad’s pictures noteworthy was the fact that they had been taken during the initial two weeks of OZ filming in October 1938. This was when Judy was a blonde, wearing a different wig, dress, make-up, and shoes; when Ray Bolger and Margaret Hamilton’s make-ups were peculiar; and when Buddy Ebsen was playing the Tin Woodman. (Just below is one of the photos Brad shared back in 1985 or so that provided me with an absolute jolt of elation. In addition to the difference in the characters’ appearances, you can see that even the Yellow Brick Road is differently paved – and not curbed. Below this first visual are two other stills which turned up later in my own research and also date from those early days on the set. Once again, Judy is a blonde Dorothy, shown here with Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West; the latter wears a different make-up, and her hair is in a sort of Marlo (THAT GIRL) Thomas – or Lea (GLEE) Michele – flip. Beneath this, the Famous Four are posed as they hope to escape up the staircase in the Witch’s Castle. In addition to “Lolita Gale of Kansas” (as she’s been affectionately termed), you’ll see the Scarecrow with a make-up that offers a certain “Mummy of Oz” quality – along with Buddy Ebsen as the Tin Man.
Back to that opportune meeting with Brad. As his passion for OZ was most certainly a match for mine, we fell to discussing the idea that a majorly illustrated book about the film’s creation might be a great idea for the coming 50th anniversary. We envisioned it, from the onset, primarily as a pictorial; THE MAKING OF THE WIZARD OF OZ book was then not even a decade old, and it was pretty much universally held that the backstory of the picture had been therein told by Aljean Harmetz. Meanwhile, my own college degree was in journalism, and – as of 1985 – I’d been working in entertainment-adjacent public relations for more than fifteen years, so I had writing credentials. I was not, however, a collector on Brad’s level, or that of Bill Stillman, whom I knew through The International Wizard of Oz Club; thus, Bill was readily invited to come on board, too.
To summarize the next couple of years: Michael Patrick Hearn, another Oz Club friend (since 1963!), introduced me to his book agent, Mitchell Rose, who endorsed the John/Brad/Bill concept and outlined the necessity for a proposal and portfolio sample of art which he could eventually circulate to publishers. While the Harmetz tome had included behind-the-scenes photos and reproductions of memos, NO book – to that date – had reproduced any of the beautiful (and COLORFUL) OZ posters, lobby cards, magazine ads, rotogravure pages, or samples from decades of Oz movie merchandising. Nor could one find anywhere depicted in color the covers of all forty (plus!) of the original Oz series – or the foreign edition movie-tie books – or the glorious exploitation aids for the film prepared by MGM for its theatrical engagements. (And etc.!) Because of the heavily promoted Technicolor splendor of OZ, many Kodachrome images were taken of the various stars and scenes in 1938-39. Most, however, had disappeared into long-forgotten filing cabinets and storage units, although we hoped to locate at least some of those true-color images for the book. (I’m about to get a bit ahead of the story, but here’s one we did! Please note the barely visible string used to tie Bert Lahr’s tail into the appropriate angle for a photograph.)
So, Mitchell, Bill, and I were increasingly het-up about our ideas and the potential for the endeavor. Brad, however, unexpectedly dropped out of sight — and communication — for the interim years between 1987-1989; then a desired third contributor happily turned up in another Oz collector and club member, Jay Scarfone.
Throughout summer 1987, I was singing on the Cunard Princess cruise ship, up and down along the Alaska coast for ten weeks. It fell to me, during that time, to follow Mitchell’s advisements and to write what turned out to be a twenty-page outline for the book’s text and to assemble, as well, an oversize, seventy-page portfolio of suggested art: black-and-white and color photocopies from the collections of the three authors. I can’t recall now if all three of these images just below were part of that presentation, but they certainly appeared in the finished product and definitely represented the sort of bright and bountiful artwork we hoped would enhance the book. At top, Judy and Ray pose with a momentarily docile apple tree; this shot was exclusively published in the NEW YORK SUNDAY MIRROR on August 20, 1939); a specialized, cartoon approach to OZ advertising that appeared in a number of Sunday newspaper “comic sections” during that same month; and a title lobby card for the first OZ reissue in 1949. By then, Judy Garland had become such an international film star that her billing became much more prominent than that of the rest of the cast.
Another of Mitchell’s dictates was the wise, savvy, and very challenging counsel that I needed to somehow get permission from the Turner Entertainment Company to DO such a book – along with their assurance they would license no other major WIZARD OF OZ anniversary tome! (Mind you, I had never before in my life sought the responsibility or demands required of an author; this was a new world, to be sure.)
So . . . from Alaska, I wrote to Jack Haley, Jr. – both the “Son of Tin Man” and a highly-regarded force in Hollywood. (To offer that he was the producer and director of THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT [1974] is credit enough and an indication of his status.) I’d had dealings with Jack across the preceding eight years, often in connection with various MGM-related features I was preparing for the Oz Club magazine, THE BAUM BUGLE. We’d corresponded and spoken on the phone, and though we’d never met, he did know of me. So, I sent him the book outline, noted that I’d be disembarking from the ship in San Pedro, and offering that I’d call his office when I arrived, in case he would be willing to tell me to whom I should speak at Turner about licensing OZ material for such a venture. (The back story of the photo below will be offered in next month’s blog, but by way of introduction, that’s Jack, Sr., reading a favored book to five-year-old Jack, Jr., sometime between November 1938 and summer 1939.)
Begging for courage, I did indeed place that call on my first morning in the Los Angeles area. I gave my name, and before I could ask to speak to Jack, his secretary exclaimed, “Oh, he’s waiting to hear from you! Call him at home!” A deeper breath, another call, and I got, “John! Where are you staying? Have you got a car? Can you come right over? This is the address!” (I was suddenly calmer – and much more motivated than trepidatious!)
Given his immediate kindness, Jack and I became instant friends, and after 45 minutes of get-further-acquainted and industry chatter, I finally ventured to bring up the topic of the proposal. (As much as I was reveling in the man’s company, I was certainly still insecure enough to fear he was dancing through all the other topics while building up to telling me that my work was no good.) Finally: “Jack . . . about the book. Do you even think it’s an okay idea? Or should we forget it? . . . Or DO you know to whom I’d speak in licensing?”
His reply: “Oh, don’t bother with licensing! I went to Roger Mayer’s office — he’s the president and chief executive officer at Turner Entertainment – and I put the proposal on his desk. I told him, ‘If you want a 50th anniversary OZ book, John Fricke is the person to do it’!”
Okay!!!! 😊
As referenced above, the rest of the story will be along here in the next entry. Suffice it to say, Roger Mayer’s coming approbation made a whole lot possible – even though it was misinterpreted by some . . . all to the book’s advantage!
Here’s a final image to “go out on.” This is the back dust jacket cover for the 1989 hardbound edition. The nine images here weren’t used on the rear of the 1990 paperback, so I thought it would be nice to show them again here.
And many thanks for reading!
