A color key for It’s Everybody’s Business (1954). A background from Warner Bros.’ first 3-D cartoon, Lumber Jack-Rabbit (1954).
3-D AND JOHN SUTHERLAND PRODUCTIONS In early1953 Maurice left for John Sutherland Productions after being refused a raise by Eddie Selzer.He left on good terms however, with Selzer offering tomatch Sutherland’s offer at the lastminute. But after learning that Maurice had alreadysigned a contract with Sutherland, Selzersimplyshook Maurice’s hand and let himknow that the door to the studio was always open to him. Bycoincidence,shortly after Maurice left the studio, Warner Bros.closed their entire animation department. The story goesthat Jack Warner had decided that 3-Dfilms were the wave of the future. But after producing one 3-D cartoon, Lumber Jack-Rabbit(1954) with Chuck’s unit, he was worried that 3-Dcartoons would be too expensive to produce. So he closed the studio. Animator GregDuffell, who ownsseveral pieces of art fromLumber Jack-Rabbit, explained tome that each of the background layouts would have probably been painted and shot undercamera twice to get the desired 3-Deffect. Maurice would have had to dumb down the backgroundsso that they would work together and so painter PhilDeGuard wouldn’t keel over in the process. Maurice’sfeelings about the filmwere revealed tome on a summer dayin the late 1990s. Animation artist Chen-Yi Chang, who is known for hischaracter design work for filmssuch asMulan (1998) and Tarzan (1999), and I were having lunch with Maurice. Chen-Yi had brought a book along that featured some of Maurice’s art, and he flipped to a double-page spread ofsome layoutsfromLumber Jack-Rabbit. Chen-Yi islike Maurice inmany ways, especiallyin his passion for design and his honest,straightforward approach to things. In other words, when itcomesto art, he tendsto call things as he seesthem.
Ernie Nordli’s proposed opening for What’s Opera, Doc? (1957) He said, “Maurice, I’ve been looking at this book for a while now, andmost ofyour artwork in here is great! But this page, it’s not as good asthe rest of the stuff, what happened?!” I was about to choke onmysandwich. Maurice took the book, looked at it, and smiled knowingly. Then he wrote, “You are right!” acrossthe page. Warner Bros. decided to continuemaking 2-Dcartoons and reopened the doorsto the studio in late 1953.During the closure,most of the artists had found other employment. Even Chuck Jones had gone toDisneyto work on, among other things, Sleeping Beauty. In rehiring the crew, Selzer had tomatch or exceed what the artists had beenmaking during the layoff. The alreadytight filmbudgets became even tighter. It’slikelythat at least a few of the films Maurice had designed before leaving,such as Claws for Alarm, were designed for 3-D, but were stoppedmid-production during the studio closure, onlyto be finished in 2- Dafter the studio reopened. At John Sutherland Productions, Maurice worked on a variety of industrial films and
At John Sutherland Productions, Maurice worked on a variety of industrial films and commercial projects. One of Maurice’s gemsfromthis period was a graphic experiment called It’s Everybody’s Business(1954). Because Maurice wasillustrating a narrative rather than supporting personality and story with design, he was able push themany graphic aspects of the filmmore than he had at Warner Bros.Hemade a conscious effort to differentiate his work at Sutherland’sfromhismore satirical work on Looney Tunes. Thisis something he would also tryto do with his work at MGM in the 1960s. Severalcapable layout designersfilled in for Maurice while he was at Sutherland’s. Ernie Nordli, whom Maurice had known since his early days atDisney, worked formuch of1954 and 1955 in the Jones unit. Nordli took an evenmore graphic approach than Maurice had and created some strikingly beautiful, if unevenly designed, filmsfor the studio. Robert Givenscontributed a few well-designed pictures during Maurice’s absence. Robert Gribbroek also returned to the Jones unit during this period, retaining hismore conservative style. Nordli departed fromthe Jones unit quite suddenlyin 1955, leaving several unfinished films behind himwhich probablyincluded Bugs Bonnets and Barbary Coast Bunny, both released in 1956. Another filmNordli left behind wasWhat’s Opera, Doc? Ernie Nordli was one of the few layout designers Maurice said he actuallyrespected.He explained tome that while he felt Ernie was a great artist, he had the unfortunate habit of leaving projectsmidwaythrough. In the late 1960s Chuck Jones and Maurice fired Nordli from MGM for notshowing up to work for weeks at a time. Soon after, he committed suicide. In a 1989 interview with Michael Barrier, Maurice related that “Ernie was a lost person . . . It became verysad and complicated.” Color keys for the Bell Telephone Science Series’ Gateways to the Mind (1958).
THERE AND BACK AGAIN After finishing his work at John Sutherland Productions, Maurice returned brieflyto St. Louisto work on filmstrips.He had been promised a stake in the companythere, but these promises were never realized, and he soon grew weary of the bureaucracy of the organization. True to his word, Eddie Selzer rehired Maurice inmid-1955. Upon his return to the studio, Maurice began work on what would become one of hismost famous films,What’s Opera, Doc?(1957). According to Maurice, Nordli’s earlier work on the film had been fairlyconservative and wasthus discarded forsomethingmuchmore satirical. Despite budget restrictions, or perhaps because of them, Maurice’s design styling at Warner Bros. in the late 1950s was nearing itsfinal evolutionarystage. Many of the films Maurice designed in this period would be counted among the greatest of the golden age of animation,classicssuch as Boyhood Daze(1957), Hareway tothe Stars(1957), and Robin Hood Daf y(1958). Along with the regular lineup of Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, the Jones unit took on a number ofspecial projects, including 90 DaysWondering(1956) and Drafty, Isn’t It?(1957)for the U.S.military. Longtime productionmanager Johnny Burton took over the reins of Warner Bros. Cartoonsfroma retiring Eddie Selzer in 1957. Burton began to explore the possibilities of television, helping produce The Bugs Bunny Show. The same year, Chuck Jones wrote and directed, with Maurice designing, animated sequencesfor episodes of the Bell Telephone Science Series. In 1958 Maurice wasmade an offer he couldn’t refuse and returned to John Sutherland’sto help design the industrial filmRhapsodyof Steel(1959). The filmwas a highbudget affair for the inauguration of the Pittsburgh Amphitheater’sstainless-steel retractable dome. Though Eyvind Earle wascredited asthe film’s art director, Maurice related to usthat he had designed it and Earle had simply painted his designs. The design teamwascomposed of an amazing crew that included Tony Rivera, VictorHaboush, and Frank Armitage. Maurice spent about a year on the film, and it would remain one of his favorites. Eyvind Earle was always a sensitive subject with Maurice. Much like Mary Blair, Earle had found greatsuccess atDisney as a concept artist, background painter, and then art director on filmssuch as Sleeping Beauty(1959). But Maurice felt Earle’s work, in contrast to Blair’s designs, wasinappropriate for animation.He told usthat whilemuch of Earle’s
fine art was “striking . . . though repetitive,” hisfilmdesign was “like hugging an iceberg, far too cold and unemotional to really work in animation. Background design is all about conveying emotion and supporting personality. Eyvind’s work failsto do this.” Many of animation’s great designers were quite territorial and had a very particular scope of design that worked for them. This narrow span of right and wrong gave these artistsresonating voicesin the industry but also limited the range of what theyfelt was acceptable design. In 1958 writer Mike Maltese left Warner Bros. to find success atHanna-Barbera Studio on showssuch as The Flintstones. The absence of Maltese was a huge blow to the Jones unit; the absence of his warmth, wit, and satire can be felt inmany of the cartoonsthat followed. Eventually, writer JohnDunn would fill in for Maltese,sharing story duties with Chuck Jones. Stills from John Sutherland’s Rhapsody of Steel (1959).
Concept paintings from Kiss Me Cat (1953).
Color keys for Nelly’s Folly (1961). Maurice felt the premise for Nelly’s Folly was “dullsville” so he pushed the graphic quality of the design styling. The film went on to receive an Oscar nomination. THE END OF AN ERA When Maurice returned to Warner Bros. in 1959, he found that Chuck Jones had become so busy wearing hisvariouscreative hats of producer, director, and now writer in the absence of Mike Maltese that, as Maurice toldme, “After a time, Chuck would basically takemy drawings and stick theminto the character layouts.” Asif Jones weren’tspread thin enough, he was alsomoonlighting on a script for a feature with UPA called Gay Purr-ee (1962). Warner Bros. later picked up distribution for the feature and discovered that Jones had worked on the film.He wasfired in 1962 for breach ofcontract for hisinvolvement. With Jones’s hecticschedule, Maurice stepped in to help pick up the slack.His duties included not onlythe regular theatricalshorts but also segmentsfor TV and special projects such asthe Bell Telephone Science Series. These extra responsibilitiesmeant Maurice also had lesstime to focus on design and layout.He soon began laying out films with the assistance of a number ofverytalented artistsincluding Bob Givens,Dave Rose, Owen Fitzgerald, and Corny Cole. As a result he began receiving codirection credits onmany of the films he worked on. In a 1991interview, Maurice discussed thischange withHarry McCracken: “I would go in and check the animators,maybe sit in on a recording session. I wasjust all over the place, kind of pulling thingstogether, ironing out a lot ofspots while Chuck was going ahead with the next picture.” But in a 1971interview with Joe Adamson, Maurice confirmed, “Even codirection with Chuckmeant that he had the finalsay-so.” Throughout the 1950s, the Jones unit produced an average of ten six-minute cartoons a year. Each cartoon would be in production for about a year, with stories often in development forseveralyears. Maurice would spend an average of five weeks designing and
creating background layouts percartoon. More time would be given to certain special cartoonssuch as Duck Amuck, From A to Z-Z-Z-Z, andWhat’s Opera, Doc? These filmscould take up to seven weeksto design and layout. The extra time was often stolen fromwhat Maurice likesto call “baseboard pictures,” cartoonssuch as KissMe Cat(1953)that were easier to paint and design because somany of the layouts were ofsimple checkered floors. Maurice could often get through a Road Runner picture in aslittle as one and a half weeks. In the late 1950s and early1960s,more Road Runners weremade for just thisreason. Maurice explained that often when Chuck Jones would want to try outsomethingmore special and unusual, he would have to bargain withmanagement, trading several Road Runnersforsomethingmore interesting. The up side of this way of working wasthat the crew was able to create a few really great pictures each year that theyreallycared about. High Note(1960), Beep Prepared (1961), Nelly’s Folly(1961), and Now Hear This(1962) were all nominated for Oscars after Maurice’sreturn in 1959. The down side of this methodology wasthatmany would associatemuch of Maurice’s and Chuck Jones’slater work with cheap, limited animation. This perception would dog Maurice formanyyears. In 1961DaveDePatie replaced Johnny Burton in the executive office and would close the studio two yearslater. It was about thistime that Maurice redesigned the classic Looney Tuneslogo with somethingmoremodern. In a discussion at Cal/Artsin 1977 Maurice quipped, “We were trying some new titles. . . . It worked so well that theyclosed the studio.” Soon after Jones’s departure from Warner Bros., his unit was dissolved. Maurice did a bit of uncredited design work for director Robert McKimson, and then began design on the animated segments of the live-action feature The IncredibleMr. Limpet(1964). Maurice had fondmemories of working onMr. Limpet, having created some beautiful artwork for the film; he was especially proud of his work on the “Deep Rapture” sequence. Maurice praised cameraman Johnny Burton, Jr., on the fine work he did on the filmin spite of the primitive equipment he had to work with.
A concept sketch from The Dot and the Line (1965). THE MGM YEARS In 1963, after a brief hiatus, Maurice rejoined Chuck Jones andmost of the former Jones unit at Chuck’s new studio, Sib Tower12 Productions(later to be renamed MGM Animation/Visual Arts)to work on a series of new Tomand Jerryshorts. The films at MGM had amore luxuriousschedule and budget than the films at Warner Bros. Whilemost of the films aren’t particularlymemorable, Maurice’s production designs are gorgeous. Although he had designedmanyremarkable filmsthroughout his decade-long foray at Warner Bros., the 1960s gave himthe time and opportunityto explore a variety ofsubjects,styles, and techniques.He considered the films at MGM to be some of his best work. Along with better working conditions, Maurice also felt he wasmaturing as an artist.He toldme, “Most designersreally only begin to understand design and how to use it at around age forty. Then really onlymaster it bytheir fifties and sixties. Fromthere an artistcan continue to improve and hone theircraft, or theycanmake a quick decline, depending on their passion.” At MGM Maurice was also reunited with his old commanding officer, Theodor “Dr. Seuss” Geisel, to work on How the Grinch Stole Christmas!(1966) and Horton Hears aWho! (1970). The Grinch was one of Maurice’sfavorites of the period, but,strangely, formany years Ted Geisel never expressed how he felt about Maurice’s design work for the film. In 1991, during Geisel’smemorialservice, Geisel’s doctor relayed the followingmessage to Maurice: “Ted wantedme to tellyou howmuch he loved Grinch, especiallyyour work on it.” Amused, Maurice later toldme, “This wastypical of Ted, always getting in the last word.” Among other things, Maurice codirected two films: The Bear ThatWasn’t(1967), based
Among other things, Maurice codirected two films: The Bear ThatWasn’t(1967), based on the book by a Warner Bros. alumnus, director Frank Tashlin; and The Dot and the Line: A Romanceof LowerMathematics(1965) written by Norton Juster, which won the Oscar for best animated short film. During the production of The Dot and the Line, Chuck and Maurice’s working relationship became strained. Evidentlythe executives at MGM had seen an earlytreatment of the filmby Chuck and didn’t like it. In a 1989 interview with Michael Barrier, Maurice explained what transpired next: Somebody from MGM came to me and explained what the situation was, and asked, “Do you think you could do anything with the film?” I said, “If I have complete control over it.” So Chuck, with a big scowl on his face, came in and threw all the pieces on my big brown bookcase; he stacked the whole picture like this: plunk, plunk, plunk . . . and stalked out of the room. I wouldn’t let Chuck see what I was doing with it; it was a very touchy situation. But I knew that I couldn’t do anything with it if he was going to be sucking his thumb on it. The thing got the Academy Award, and he has never mentioned it to me to this day. However, after Maurice’s pass on the filmand before all the awardsthat would follow, Chuck wrote Maurice the following personal note: Maurice, I have just gone over your treatment of The Dot and the Line in the squalid absolute of my own solitude. I think it is very nearly flawless and I think Norton Juster will think so too. My warmest congratulations for a stunning performance. – Chuck.
A Maurice color storyboard panel from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966).
A rough layout from The Grinch with color indications for background painter Phil DeGuard. From Off to See the Wizard (1967–1968).
Color sketches from the “Deep Rapture” sequence of The Incredible Mr. Limpet (1964).
Concepts sketches from The Phantom Tollbooth (1970).
Chuck Jones concept sketches for Tim Burr Wolf.
A layout with color notes from Tom and Jerry. Maurice designed a variety of other projects at MGM. Among other things, in 1967 and 1968 Maurice worked on animated segments of the MGM-produced live-action TV series Of to See theWizard, a show based on charactersfromTheWizard of Oz(1939). Maurice tried his hand at title design forseveral live-action films. Unfortunately,most of histitles, including those for TheMaltese Bippy(1969)—working title The Strange Caseof !#&%?—the plot of which revolved around a porn star and vampires, nevermade it past the conceptstage. In fact,many projectsthat Maurice helped design at MGM were never produced. These were often conceptsfor proposed features,short films, and TV shows. Some of these concepts,such as TimBurr Wolf, later to be rechristened TimberWolf!, would reappear at Chuck Jones Productionsin the 1990s. To keep up with hisvarious assignments, Maurice often enlisted the talents of layout artistssuch asDon Morgan and OscarDufau. Along with hislongtime associate Phil DeGuard, Maurice also worked with such painters as Bob Inman andHal Ashmead in the background department.
The animated feature The Phantom Tollbooth (1970) would be Maurice’sfinal filmat MGM, and their animation unit would close soon after itsrelease. Although the reception to The Phantom Tollbooth waslukewarm, Maurice was proud of his work on the film.He described it tome as a “virtual design classthat implemented everything I knew about film design.” During the late 1960s Chuck and Maurice’srelationship grewmore andmore strained. Maurice explained tome: “Chuck just wasn’t giving the filmsthe attention they needed. I wasrunningmyfool head off pulling thingstogether, trying tomake themwork . . .staying late, working weekends. Chuck was alwaysleaving earlyfor hismanysocial engagements. He wastoo busy being Mr. Jones.” I asked Maurice why he had continued working with Chuck if he feltso strongly about the situation.He replied, “I have a lot of respect for Chuck.He was always working on interesting things; always experimenting and trying stuff out. Unlike other directors, Chuck letme domy own thing. For that, I owe hima lot.” After leaving MGM, Maurice began work atDePatieFreleng, a studio headed byveteran Warner Bros. director Friz Freleng andDaveDePatie, former head of Warner Bros. Cartoons. There Maurice designed a trio ofDr. Seuss–themed films: The Cat in the Hat (1971), The Lorax (1972), and Dr. Seusson the Loose(1973). Jones would help produce and storyboard The Cat in the Hat before starting work at his own studio, Chuck Jones Productions, in 1970. Maurice took advantage of his retirement and sketched and traveled throughout Asia and Latin America.
A late 1980s/early 1990s brochure advertising Maurice’s serigraphs. RETIREMENT While atDePatieFreleng, Maurice and his wife, Marjorie, purchased a beautiful Spanishstyle house in the La Crescenta hills, just north of Los Angeles. Slowly Maurice converted his garage into a studio. After finishing Dr. Seusson the Loose in late 1972, Maurice retired fromanimation to focus on his personal art, hismusic, and growing flowers with his Marjorie. “Drawing,” Maurice toldme, “takes differentskillsthan designing,” and he worked hard to sharpen his painting and drawing skills. To help give hisstudiesstructure, Maurice often took figure drawing and painting classesin the L.A. area. What kind of student was Maurice?Histeacher at Glendale Community College, artist Shanna Galloway, had thisto say: It’s difficult to think of Maurice as a “student.” I was barely over thirty when he began several years of classes with me—and he had won several Academy Awards. I had seen and loved The Dot and the Line when I was in grad school. Maurice was very loyal. He came by class once to sign in when he was unable to attend. He was always on time and seated on the front row. He was a delightful presence in the group and never overbearing because of his reputation. He had that rare quality that a teacher appreciates. His charm and attentiveness set a tone in the classroom. He supplemented hisclasses with numerous painting tripsthroughout Latin America
He supplemented hisclasses with numerous painting tripsthroughout Latin America and Asia. On one such trip, Maurice fulfilled a lifelong dreamofstudying traditional Chinese painting at the Central Academy of Fine Artsin Beijing. Along with his ever-present watercolors, themain focus of Maurice’s personal art was a series of hand-pulled serigraph prints. The prints were beautiful, but like the tiles he had created decades earlier, he found difficultyselling them. At one point, Maurice set up a stand along a street near his home and tried selling his art for $25 a print. Even then, he had trouble getting anyone to take themoff his hands. It wasn’t until the 1990s, with the help of gallery ownerslike Steven Grossfeld of Gremlin Galleries, Linda Jones Clough,Heidi Leigh, and others, that Maurice finallyfound some success with his personal artwork. A few of Maurice’s paintings from his studies in China.
Examples of Maurice’s personal serigraph print work. Though he loved animation, Maurice had waited for many years for the time and opportunity to make art for himself. In 1979 Chuck Jones produced, directed, and with Mike Maltese cowrote Duck Dodgers and the Return of the24½th Century as part of a TV specialcalled Daf y Duck’s Thanks-forGiving. Maurice and artist RonDias were designing the film, butsometime during the production Maurice blew up,making itclear that he no longer wanted to work with Chuck. In response, Chuck wrote to Maurice, “Ican ofcourse, understand you’re not wanting to work anymore, and now I realize how wrong it wasforme to ask you to leave your retirement hiatusto help on Duck Dodgers II. . . . In spite of anything yoursuperb sketches are the essence of Duck Dodgers II.” For a time, Maurice considered a teaching position offered bythe University ofHawaii. The deal fell through when the university discovered that he hadn’tcompleted his undergraduate degree. Maurice received the Winsor McCay Lifetime Achievement Award in 1987 for his contributionsto the art of animation. Chuck Jonesintroduced Maurice at the ceremony and expressed his appreciation for Maurice’scontributions onmany of his best pictures. This went a long wayto smooth over any hard feelings Mauricemay have had toward Chuck.(The speech is printed in part asthe preface to this book.) Bythe late 1980s, Maurice wascompletely broke. In order to pay hismortgage, he reentered an industrythat wasradically different than the one he had left. Tomakematters evenmore difficult, he had been diagnosed withmacular degeneration: he was going blind. About thistime, Maurice did some development work for Ralph Bakshi on Dr. Seuss’s Butter Battle Book(1989). At Bakshi’s Maurice worked with a group ofyoung artiststhat included Ed Bell, Jeff Pidgeon, and Rich Moore, among others.
In early1990, Maurice was hired at Warner Bros. to work on episodes of Tiny Toon Adventures, a TV show that basicallyincorporated juniorversions of Looney Tunes characters. Upon receiving thematerialsfor the episode he wassupposed to design, “Duck Dodgers, Jr.” (1991), Maurice proceeded to work in the samemanner that he always had. Instead of just designing locations based on the storyboard, he began analyzing the story, writing notes and suggestions about how to improve the storytelling visually. This ofcourse didn’t jive well with Warner Bros.’slick,modern TV animation pipeline. But once Maurice began designing, the entire crew became really excited bythe beautiful,classic-looking Noble designs he produced. To everyone’ssurprise, when Maurice’s episode came back fromthe overseasstudio, it looked terrible! Mike Kazaleh, who cowrote the “DuckDodgers, Jr.” episode with Maurice, and director Kent Butterworth related the following to Thad Komorowski in 2008: “Maurice came up with all the crazylandscapes andmachinesseen in the beginning of the cartoon.He originally designed the settingsin nice, flatcolors, but the background artists at Wang Filmsin Taipei(where this episode was produced)couldn’t believe we wanted themflat,so they used airbrush instead.”However,David Marshall, the overseas supervisor on the project,shed light on the fact that the Taiwanese crew was “incredibly jazzed by Maurice’s background keys.” But he was “given strict ordersfromthe show’s producersto ignore Maurice’s notes.”David continued: “The U.S. producers didn’t know orcare who this old guy was, despite the fact that the art looked fantastic!” The irony of all of this wasthat “DuckDodgers, Jr.” wassupposed to be a send-up of one of Maurice’s most famousfilms, Duck Dodgers in the24½th Century(1953). . . and was written to be a sort of flashback to the original film.
Sketches for Duck Dodgers and the Return of the 24½th Century (1980).
Not long after, the show’ssenior director, Eddie Fitzgerald, had the unenviable task of firing Maurice fromTiny Toons. Eddie was kind enough to share some of histhoughts about Maurice and hisstyle withme: I was and am a huge fan of Maurice Noble. I absolutely love what he did for Chuck. I loved him so much that, in spite of my fear that he might seduce the studio into accepting a limited style, I agreed to work with him. I’m a passionate believer in full animation. . . . For me, the problem with Maurice’s style was that it was anchored in the public imagination with limited (or semi-limited) animation. Maurice became disgusted with the whole uncreative, factory-typemethodology used in producingmodern TV animation,saying, “I tried tomake a good cartoon, and got fired for it.”He would never work in television again. A few of Maurice’s rough concept sketches for “Duck Dodgers, Jr.” (1991).
Maurice sketches from various space pictures. Reoccurring themes followed Maurice through his career, and with each picture he tried to push these themes further and further.
Beginning in the late 1980s classic animation art became quite collectable. In order to make ends meet, Maurice sold off a portion of his personal collection. In the process he met a whole new generation of animation fans.
Maurice with his trainees from Chuck Jones Film Productions. From left to right: Lawrence Marvit, Scott Morse, Maurice Noble, Tod Polson, Don Hall, Ricardo Barahona. A NEW BEGINNING In 1993 Chuck Jones and his daughter, Linda Jones Clough,started Chuck Jones Film Productions with plansto develop a variety of long-and short-formprojects. They dreamed ofmaking a creative studio environment reminiscent of Warner Bros. in the 1950s. Maurice jumped at the chance to work on theatricalshorts, and was brought on board not onlyto help oversee the artstyling ofmany of these projects, but also to train a group ofyoung designersfromthe California Institute of the Arts(CalArts). After his “Tiny Toon experience” Maurice had become deeplyconcerned about the welfare and future of young artists.He and Jonescommitted themselvesto passing on their knowledge, teaching a new generation of artists a better way of putting short filmstogether. This desire became the seed of this book. In 1994, after a portfolio review and a brief interview, Scott Morse,DonHall, Ricardo Barahona, and I were invited to intern with Maurice. Lawrence Marvit recounts how he came to join the studio a bit later:
Maurice was an animation artist with classical leanings. This he made clear to me the first day I met him. I had heard that Maurice Noble and Chuck Jones had reteamed to make theatrical shorts. So I called and asked about internships. The person on the other side of the phone promptly said there were no positions open. So with no way in, I figured I’d try the front door . . . literally. I drove to the studio where I was told . . . “Yes, Maurice Noble is here, but all the internship positions have been filled.” I pleaded “Can I at least show him my work?” Grudgingly they took my portfolio and told me to wait in the lobby. After waiting one of the longest half hours of my life I was told, “He would like to meet you.” The butterflies in my stomach went ballistic as I was walked to his office. There he was: the legend. Rather short and dressed in an apron to avoid getting paint on him. He shook my hand and had me sit down. At this point I was about to vomit butterflies. He opened the portfolio to a series of still lifes. “Were you looking at Tintoretto when doing these?” That was not what I was expecting. He was right. Tintoretto is of course one of the great painters of the Italian Renaissance. The pictures were based on some ideas of how Tintoretto used space, which I had been studying independently with another fantastic artist named Glenn Vilppu. At the time I knew less than ten people who cared about this type of classical composition stuff. It had no real application in film and not much in illustration; I just found it fun. It turned out that Maurice thought so as well. Roughs from a Marvin Martian promo spot, directed by Darrell Van Citters. We chatted for a while and then he handed me a stack of photocopies of Chuck Jones’s drawings and a treatment. Maurice said, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “I’d like several pages of rough drawings by next Wednesday.” I had
officially gotten my first assignment! All of us had a different manner in which we related to Maurice. I was someone to talk about old modes of composition with. This isn’t to say we didn’t talk about animation design; we did. A lot. But more often than not it was through the filter of old painters. At one point I had taken a pad of preprinted storyboard panels and was slipping Maurice the occasional Tintoretto-inspired still life. He referred to it as our dirty secret. The animation teamwascomposed primarily ofstudentsfromSheridan College in Toronto, and included Ben Jones,Herman Sharaf, Warren O’Neill, and Greg Whittaker. This Canadian force wassupplemented by CalArt-iansJoe Moshier and Eric “Panama” Koenig. The animation trainees were guided byveteran animators GregDuffell, Tom Decker, and Mike Polvani. Recent CalArts graduate JimHull was the storyboard department and worked directly with Chuck,Don Arioli, and Stan Freberg. We all worked long and hard hours. But the gang running the studio—Chuck, Linda, producer/director Steve Fossatti, andmanager Rose Long—tried tomake sure that Chuck Jones FilmProductions was a fun place to work. To break up the daythere would be impromptu wrestlingmatches and fierce chair-basketball games. Lindamade sure each of uscarried a rubber fish with us one day of the week to ensure we didn’t get too serious at the office. We had life drawing classes and filmscreenings of original Technicolor prints of the cartoons. StarslikeDebbie Reynolds and Quentin Tarantino would just pop in from time to time to see what we were doing. The best part of all isthat we weremaking theatrical short films! Whatcould be better? We pitied ourclassmates, those poorslobs who were going to tiny, unknown studioslike Cartoon Network and Pixar. It was an amazing experience. Unfortunatelyfor a lot of us, we were perhaps a bit too naïve to realize how lucky we really were. As often happens, good thingscame to an end. Though Maurice continued to consult for Chuck Jones, in 1995 he joined Turner Feature Animation (later to be renamed Warner Bros. Feature Animation) as a development artist and design consultant forvarious projects at the studio. At Warner Bros., Maurice helpedmentor another group ofyoung gifted designersthat included Lou Romano, Ricky Nierva, Mike Stern,Don Shank, Kevin O’Brien, and Jenny Lerew, among otheryoungsters. Maurice also worked closely with industryvetssuch as Kelvin Yasuda,
Rick Schneider, SylvainDespretz,Dan Jeup, and Brad Bird. Scott Morse, who was instrumental in getting Maurice hired at Turner, and Lawrence Marvit had left Chuck Jones and continued to study under theirmentor at Turner. Throughout the rest of the 1990s Maurice would consult and lecture forcompaniessuch as Pixar,Disney, andDreamWorks. In a 1998 interview with historian Karl Cohen, Maurice explained hisconsulting duties: “I don’t give lectures, I give conversations. . . . I check work out with the young artists. I tryto suggest where theycanmake improvements. I work with young directors. We talk overstory and story points. In other wordsI’mthe old guru.” In 1997, Maurice formed two companies. Maurice Noble Productions wasto concentrate on design consultation and commercial projects. And with a number of histrainees, known informally asthe “Noble Boys,” he formed Noble Tales, a company dedicated to creating high-qualityshort theatrical films with an ethnictwist. With Noble Tales, Maurice added yetmore traineesinto the fold, including designersJohn Korellis, Cynthia Ignacio, and Jorge R. Gutierrez. Feeling thatmusic wasjust asimportant asthe visual element, Maurice also involvedmusicians Ryan Baker, Craig Snoke, and Billy “Keys” Benson. Several dozen Noble Talesstories were developed to variousstages of finish under Maurice’s watchful eye. Each filmconcept was designed to incorporate differentstyles and techniques. Research trips were taken that included a workshop with a shadow-puppetmaster in Java and tripsto Angkor Wat guided bymembers of the Cambodian royal family. One particularlyspecial trip wasto the McKean Rehabilitation Center for leprosy patientsin northern Thailand. Maurice’s uncle,missionaryDr. James McKean, fromwhom Maurice was given hismiddle name, had set up the facilityin 1908. Maurice had alwayslooked up to his uncle,visiting the hospitalseveral times over the years. . . and toyed with the idea of setting up a studio in Thailand.
One of several logos from Maurice’s proposed film series, Noble Tales. The final background, from Maurice’s final Road Runner short, Chariots of Fur (1994). Background painted by Jill Petrilak. A number of L.A.studiosshowed interest in producing propertiesfromNoble Tales, but
A number of L.A.studiosshowed interest in producing propertiesfromNoble Tales, but eventually all those dealsfell through. Al Tudi Tuhak(1999), produced asmystudent filmat CalArts and narrated by Maurice, wasthe firstshort to come out of the Noble Talesseries. Both Maurice and former UPA designer and head of the CalArts experimental animation programJules Engelserved asmentors on Al Tudi Tuhak. They both took a hands-off approach in helping guide the project, giving advice only when asked or when theysaw problems. The important thing for Maurice wasthat the filmdeveloped in the proper way. Eventuallythe filmreceived the Student Academy Award, and was nominated for an Annie Award. The night of the Oscar win, Maurice pulledme aside and said, “You are beginning to understand design, butyou sure can’t direct.” In 2000 James Wang, owner of the Wang FilmGroup, offered up his Thaistudio to produce a Noble Talesshort in exchange for training hiscrew in design and preproduction. Maurice became very excited bythe idea ofmaking a filmin Thailand, and it was decided to put The Pumpkin of Nyefar, a shortstorythat Maurice and I had written in Turkey, into production. But as we prepared to leave, Maurice’s doctor discovered amedicalcondition thatmade it too riskyfor Maurice to fly. The thought of not being able to travel and work on the production wastoomuch for himto bear. Aftersome thought, Mauricemade the same sort of bold decision that had defined hiscareer, and opted for riskysurgery. Before going under the knife, Maurice askedme to complete The Pumpkin of Nyefar and his design book (The Noble Approach)if anything should happen to him. On May18, 2001 Maurice James Noble passed away at his home,surrounded byloved ones. Along with Noble Tales, Maurice had a number of personal filmprojectsthat he had wanted to get off the ground, including an abstract filmabout the atombomb and a charming Christmasstory drawn fromhischildhood. But as Noble Boy Ricardo Barahona putso eloquently, “New ideas and projectstook to his heart and we all hoped thatsomehow they wouldmaterialize.However, these new aspirationscame at a point too late in life, his passing coming with the new century.” LEGACY The Pumpkin of Nyefar wasfinished in Bangkok in 2004,codirected by Mark Oftedal and me. It was a labor of love, withmany of the Noble Boys and friendsvolunteering their ideas, time, and talentsin helping to see the filmto completion. A third film, Escapeof the GingerbreadMan!!!, which wasimagined by Maurice as a “mad romp through the Irish countryside,” wascompleted at the Monk Studio in Bangkok in 2011. It wascoproduced by
Noble Tales, the Monk Studios, and the Animation Workshop ofDenmark. More films fromthe Noble Talesseries are currentlyin variousstages of production and scheduled to be finished astime and finances allow. Afteryears of discussions with Warner Bros. over the use of imagesfromtheir collection, Maurice’s design book, The Noble Approach, is at last in print by Chronicle Books, at least in asclose a version to his wishes asIcouldmake it. Maurice had always been grateful for the scholarship that allowed himto get a start on the art education that he otherwise would have been unable to afford. Wanting to help promising young studentsin the same way, Maurice started the Maurice and Marjorie Noble Scholarship Fund. At present, the scholarship is offered to outstanding first-year students at UCLA, USC, CalArts, and San Jose State University. Ofcourse Maurice’s biggest legacy will always be hisfilmwork, and themanylives he touched over the years.He once wrote, “Giving to others ofyourstore of knowledge tends to strengthen one’s own knowledge.” Unlikemany of hiscontemporaries, Maurice was always generous with histime, and his knowledge. Ifyou look closely at the fabric ofmost anymodernmajor animated production, feature or TV, it’slikelythatyou will find a thread of Maurice in the seams. Many of the artists Maurice trained, worked with, and inspired have becomemajorcreative fixtures throughout the industry. Mostcontinue to practice and impartmany of his design ideas, adding to thema bit of their own imagination. Some of these artists have generously contributed their thoughtsin the pagesthat follow. The response to this project wasso overwhelming that regrettablythere wasn’t roomenough to accommodate everyone that wanted to contribute. Though perhaps he never became themajor gallery painter he had dreamed of in his youth, Maurice’s personal prints and watercolors have found their wayintomany respectable collectionsthroughout the world.His animation art is beloved bycollectors and continuesto command high prices on the artmarket. Maurice once toldme “Animation is the new,modern, art form; the next naturalstep in the evolution of painting.” And like the classical artists of old that he so admired, I believe Maurice’s work willcontinue to touch and inspire future generations with its wit, humor, and poetry. Art director Mike Giaimo, who first introducedme to and fosteredmy appreciation for Maurice’s work while I was still a student at CalArts,sums up Maurice’s artsomuchmore poeticallythan I evercould:
What is the “Noble style”? What makes Maurice’s work so distinctive, unique, and appealing? The key to understanding his work lies in the world of opposites: his touch is light and easy, yet sure-handed. It is fanciful and whimsical on the one hand, dramatic and bold on the other. It is decorative without being fussy, and solid without being overbearing. It is never strained or overwrought. In his work there are both masculine and feminine traits—a perfect design synthesis of yin and yang. Smart cinema language and a confident use of line, shape, and color all contribute greatly to the Noble style, but perhaps the most defining (and less tangible) key to understanding Maurice’s sensibilities lies at the inner core of the man himself—his integrity. Though we see on the surface of Maurice’s work charm, sophistication, and playfulness, there is an underlying sincerity and truthfulness that holds all the design elements together. This is why his work is so honest and engaging. With Maurice there is never a visual false note or misstep. What is the Noble style? It is artistic authenticity, which is timeless. Ifyou would like to read about Maurice’slife inmore detail, please pick up a copy of Steppingintothe Picture: Cartoon DesignerMaurice Noble(University Press of Mississippi, 2008)cowritten by Maurice and Robert J. McKinnon, and Noble Boy, written and illustrated by Noble Boy Scott Morse (Adhouse Books, 2006). Readyto start designing? We thought we were, too!
STEP 01: Getting Started Maurice created literally thousands of concept sketches over a two-year period for Bambi (1942).
WORKING WITHIN YOUR LIMITATIONS When Maurice firstselected a small group ofyoung artiststo apprentice with himat Chuck Jones FilmProductionsin the early1990s, we, likemanyyoung twenty-somethings with a bit of animation training, figured we already knew prettymuch everything there wasto know about designing animated films. For our first assignment, Maurice gave each of us a short filmpremise to begin conceptsketches on. These were variousideasthat Chuck was considering putting into production. Putting brush to paper, we proceeded to eke out the most lavish, dramaticimages we couldmuster. When Maurice came byto check our progress, he kindlyinformed usin hisinimitable waythat we “had no idea of what we were doing.” What he said next isthe subject of the rest of this book and would take usyearsto get through our heads. In regard to our newest masterpieces, Maurice explained that we had justcreated what he liked to call “pretties”: lovely, often striking designsmade for the sake of design without anyreal thought to story, budget, or the needs of the picture at hand. Maurice challenged usto think about what we were designing and whybeforecreating artwork.He continued to explain: Before beginning design on any project, I try to figure out what my limitations are, primarily time and budget. A big budget feature will have different limitations than a TV show or a personal film project. You may be a fantastic artist, but you will have failed as a designer if you can’t get your vision up on the screen because you have designed a film that costs more than the budget allows or is more difficult to complete [in] the time you have scheduled. I call this “student film syndrome,” overambitious projects that fizzled out or never saw completion because of budget or time reasons. Sadly, this happens all the time in the professional world as well. I’m in no way suggesting that you underdesign your film projects. I’m just suggesting taking time and budget into consideration before you begin the design process. If you want a picture that is big, elaborate, and beautiful, but the budget doesn’t allow it, you substitute something else. Your job as a designer is to make the best picture possible within your limitations. Maurice encouraged us not to become frustrated bythese limitations.He showed usthat with a little ingenuity, a designercan use certain restrictionsto take their designsin directionsthat wouldn’t have been thought of otherwise. Ofcourse, not knowing quite as
much about animation design as we at first thought we did, it was difficult to define exactly what our limitations were. Thistakestime and experience. Ifyou’re new to animation, here is a briefchecklist thatmay help you before starting design on a project: What are the expectations of the studio, producer, and director? This needsto be clear; if they don’t know,you are in trouble. An open, ongoing discussion with the producer and director isthe best waytomake sure yourvisionmakes it to the screen. How much time do you have to design the film? Just like amarathon, plan your pace so you can finish the race. Youmayfind yourself on a project with no development time. Oryoumayfind yourself with toomuch development time, where the design style is noodled somuch that it losesitsspark. Just tryto plan ahead. How much time is there to produce the film? Design a filmthatcan be produced in the time allowed. Much of this depends ofcourse on the budget and on the size of the production teamyou will be working with. What is the budget? Design a filmthatcan bemade for the budget; don’t over-underdesign. Ifyou are new to animation,check out filmsthat are in a similar budget range to see how they were handled.
Maurice would test his concepts under camera before committing to a design approach. What is the story? Know the story as well asyou can; it will guide your design. Is the animation limited or full? A film’s design should complement the style of animation in the film. Who is your audience? Be clear who your audience is: families? kids? adults? Where will the production be? You would prepare an overseas production orcoproduction differentlythan one staying under one roof.
How long is the film? Just because a filmisshorter doesn’t alwaysmean that the budget issmaller. It issometimes difficult for even an experienced designer to quickly gaugemany of their limitations. After all hisyearsin the business, Maurice would stillconsider the limitations of each filmhe worked on carefully. Eventually, once he felt he had arrived at a solution artistically, he would test his design ideas undercamera before committing to a specific approach. Maurice often called these “light tests,” which would include a charactercelset up over a background or rough background concept painting.He did this not only as proof ofconcept for himself and the crew, but also to iron out any problemsthat hemay not have foreseen. Ifyou feel thatyou have settled on a design approach, do a test background with a charactersetup to see how long it takesyou. Thenmultiplythat by an estimated number of setups. Ofcourse this will only give you a rough idea of how long things will take. But it’s infinitely better than not knowing at all. Working in CG can bringmore and different limitations, but itcan also give youmore design options. Thisis evenmore reason to take a few testscenesto completion as proof ofconcept. WORKING AS A TEAM Maurice always acknowledged thatmuch of hissuccess as a designer was as a direct result of the people he worked with. Not only because of their talents, but also because of the camaraderie they built as a group over the years. At itsvery best, animation is a teamsport. Each of themajor players of the Jones unit of the 1950s would go on to do great things as individuals. But they never again reached the heightsthey did together. There weremany reasonsfor this, but Maurice cautioned us never to take good working relationshipsfor granted.Heidi Leigh interviewed Maurice in 1997 and asked himto recallsome of the really wonderful things about working at Warner Bros.: Teamwork with the crew at Warner Bros. created an element of synergy that is nowhere to be found in this day and age, with animators floating around from studio to studio the way they do. There were a group of guys that really knew each other, and we were, in the truest sense of the word, a unit. Mike Maltese and Phil DeGuard were probably my two best friends, and we would bounce ideas back and forth until we had something really good. Mike wrote the storyline, I would come up with a wild drawing, and the ideas would start flying. Chuck worked in the animation to the backgrounds and was a master of timing. He was also a great
artist; he could really draw. . . . None of us could have done it alone, and I will always share the glory for these great cartoons with everyone who had a hand in creating the cartoons. Maurice encouraged developing close working relationships with everyone on ourcrew. But he also revealed that forming andmaintaining these relationshipscan sometimes be tricky.He continued to explain thatmany artists who have strong creative vision also have egos.(Though he was addressing us at the time, I naïvely assumed he wastalking about someone else.) Maurice added that having confidence and vision was a healthy and even necessary part of being a good designer. But he also stressed that finding balance in our relationships wascrucial, becausemuch of our own success as designersmayin fact lie in the hands of others, especiallythe director,cameraman, and the background painter. As an example, Maurice explained his approach to working with the background painter: One of the most important partnerships a designer or art director will have is with the background painter. A good painter will have thoughts, ideas, and suggestions that can improve a design. A good art director will know which suggestions to take, and which suggestions don’t really fit into the overall production. Many inexperienced or insecure art directors will reject idea after idea, simply because it’s not their idea. I guarantee a background painter isn’t going to give inspired work if they feel as if they are just a wrist. It’s important to make the painter feel as if they are being creative, but you also want them to do it your way. This is a very tricky balance. Maurice added that when an artist on a teamdoes good work, an art directorshould go public, telling the producer and director about it; this will not only help raisemorale, it will also help inspiremore good work. In amodern CG studio, an art director’srelationship with the lighting, rendering, and compositing departmentsissimilar to that which Maurice had with the background painter and cameraman. Learn the strengths and weaknesses ofyour team, then design your productionsto take advantage of what they are good at. Ofcourse themost important relationship a designercan have isthat with the director. Jill Petrilak, who worked as Maurice’s background painter in the 1990s,made an astute observation about Maurice’srelationship with Chuck Jones:
One thing about Maurice and Chuck is that they always kept a certain distance. They worked together, they admired each other, they loved each other, but they weren’t best friends. Maurice wanted to have that edge, where they could argue a point, but not have friendship get in the way of work. Maurice confessed that through the years, he and Chuck had sometimes had heated discussions over a design approach.He rememberedmoments when Chuck and Mike Maltese would get into shoutingmatches over a story point. Maurice explained to us, “Creative arguments are all a part of the creative process. Ideascan be honed and improved when challenged. It’s a good thing! Ifyou are working with people who are ascreative and passionate asyou are, differencesin opinion are going to happen. As an artist,you can’t take these arguments personally.” Maurice added, “Nomatter how stronglyyou feel about an idea, at the end of the daythe director isstill the director.” In 1977, Maurice discussed this give-and-take relationship between designer and director with a young group ofstudents at CalArts, a group ofyoungstersthat included future directorsDarrell Van Citters, Nancy Beiman, John Musker, Brad Bird, and John Lasseter: The first thing you have to realize is that when you are designing a film, the director is the director. This is sometimes very hard for the super-ego to understand. It’s the director’s responsibility to pull all the elements of a film together, including the design, and make something that works. The director is responsible for this even if he has an art director. If the art director goes off on the wrong track, then you get a foul-up on your hands artistically. As a designer, or art director, I’ll try my darndest to sell an idea that I think is good, graphically or artistically, to the director. But, if he doesn’t buy that idea, you have to back down and you have to gracefully say, “Okay, I’ll do it your way.” Selling graphicideasto the director is one of themost important—andmoststressful— duties a designercan have. Through the years Maurice developed amethod where he managed to sell a high percentage of his design ideasto Chuck Jones and yet keep his blood pressure down. When pitching ideasto Chuck, Mauricemightshow a few sketches. But more often he would present an almostscientificlist of reasons why a certain design approach wasright for a particularstory.He related tome:
Maurice and his famous “One-Finger Salute.” Caricature by Warren O’Neil.
To be a successful designer, being able to sell a good idea is just as important as coming up with the idea itself. It’s hard to sell something simply because you think it feels right. You have to be able to logically discuss why it feels right. Be prepared to defend your ideas, but also listen to suggestions. As a team you just may come up with visual gags and ideas you hadn’t thought of previously. You may have to go through this process several times, until you find something you are really satisfied with. As a designer you will constantly be trying to sell your ideas to someone. Believe me, everyone on the crew will have an opinion of how the film should look. You have to make them believe in you and your ideas. Be confident about what you are doing: explain your work, but don’t be critical of it. Let it stand on its own and speak for itself. There were many times when I wasn’t sure if a design approach I had would actually work on-screen. But I sure wasn’t going to let anyone else know that! Many of the young designers I work with will show me work and say something like, “This part of the composition isn’t very good, is it?” Or “I should have probably pushed that more.” My reaction to this is, why are you showing this to me then? You haven’t convinced me that this is the approach we should take on a picture. If you believe enough in your work to present it to someone else, then stand behind it. Let others be critical of your ideas, whether good or bad. Sometimes when you experiment you will fail, but if you don’t push things, you will never do anything interesting. Maurice admitted that a young, inexperienced designer is going to havemore trouble selling interesting design ideasto their director.He explained that by building trust over time a good designer will eventually gainmore freedomto experiment artistically. Thisis where developing relationshipsisso important. Understanding the frustration of a class of young talent, Maurice suggested patience as a good route to take, and then added: You will find that most people are resistant to new design and style ideas and are usually more comfortable reworking things they have seen before. When you are trying to break new ground, you will often find that the creative powers controlling the project may not like a lot of your ideas as a designer. They may even take the picture in a direction that you don’t agree with. This in no way means that your work is bad, it just means their taste isn’t as good as yours. Just suck it up and save your ideas; you may be able to use them later. Perhaps not on the same picture— but eventually you will. Be a rebel, but be willing to compromise, and work as part
of a team. Just remember that every production you work on is a collaboration. The director is the head of that collaboration, like it or not. And the producer pays you. Just give them the one-finger salute (not to their faces), do your job, and keep trying to push things as far as you can. If you are difficult to work with, you can be sure you will have no creative influence at all on the next project. Later, one of the Noble Boystook Maurice’slesson to heart and gave the one-finger salute to his director during a creative discussion. Frustrated, this director phoned Maurice not knowing quite what to do, explaining “The guy’s work is great! And he does a lot of it! But, he’sso headstrong and difficult!” Asyou can guess, in spite of all histalent, this designer wassoon invited to leave the company. It’s not always about the quality of the work. It’s about the work and working relationships.
STEP 02: Story Background art from The Phantom Tollbooth.
Don’t Give Up The Sheep (1953). An example of a Mike Maltese/Chuck Jones outline. The outline is from December 1950, with the film being released in January 1953. Many of the story concepts were developed and kicked around for years before they ever hit the screen. VISUAL STORYTELLING Fromour first day working with Maurice, he let us know beyond question how he felt about the graphicstorytelling qualities of animation design and the use ofscripts. Other than recording scriptsfor the actors, written scripts were never used on the shorts at Warner Bros. The “writing” wasin the drawing, based on story outlinesforstructure. Maurice felt written scripts,more often than not, were a hindrance to a creative visualstory process:
Scripts should merely provide a skeleton to work off of, and only be part of the process. Animation at its best is a visual graphic medium. The modern animation industry is cursed with writers, producers, and even directors who would rather be making “live-action” films. Instead of telling beautiful, graphic, animated stories and taking advantage of all the visual potential animation has to offer, what are being made are essentially bad live-action films. There are exceptions, but very few. The biggest problem is that most scripts are verbal and not visual. Many recent animated features contain way too much dialogue and have situations that really don’t present themselves in a graphic way. One drawing in a storyboard can often say as much as a page of description, and many times a drawing can say things that words could never say. Go back and look at Bambi, or any of the other classics for that matter, and think about how a script would have been crafted for these films. The scripts are sparse, because very little dialogue is needed to get across the emotion and storytelling. Maurice wanted to describe the story processthat had been used at Warner Bros. in this text because he felt it wasthemost important part of his design process. Themore a designer knows about a story, the better grasp they will have on how to design it.He explained that a story will directlyinfluence the colorschosen,shapes used, and the amount of light and shadow employed in the graphics, and that the designmust always be “appropriate” to the story being told. In the Jones unit of the 1950s,storyman Mike Maltese would usually “write” the stories going into production,meaning that he would usuallycreate a short written story outline that described the basicidea for a film. The outline would then be pitched to the writing/directing teams of all units of the studio in what Maurice called a “No ‘No’ Session.” These sessions were called thisfor the simple fact that for the two hours orso that the outlines and gags were being discussed, there could be no nos. Only positive suggestions were allowed. Then armed with new thoughts and suggestions Mike would expand his outline into storyboard form. Mike’s boards would consist of thumbnail drawingsthat put over the idea of the story. The drawings were veryrough, but the charm, the gags, the dialogue, everything wasthere. Once Mike had a draft of the storyboardsready, they would be pinned up on large boards and discussed in anothersession. After this, the boards would be revised by Mike or adjusted by Chuck as he created hischaracter layoutsloosely based on the boards. Often Chuck would getcaught up in the story as he wascreating these character layouts, and twist and change thematerial in the boardsto fit hisvision.
Though rarelytaking an active role in the No “No” Sessions, Maurice often sat in the background, taking notes, wanting to understand the story at hand as best he could. Then, depending on the schedule and story, he could be asked to startsubmitting design ideas anywhere in this process. Chuck would usually present a rough storyboard or, inmanycases, a rough outline to Maurice that he wanted explored. Then Maurice would startcooking up graphicideas of what he thought wasthemost appropriate direction to take the story. Maurice explained that as he began exploring design at thisstage, he would begin to get ideasfor new aspects of the story:visual gags,staging ideas, and sometimes a complete dramaticchange in the storyitself. After working out his graphic approach for a few days, he wouldmeet with Chuck again to discussthese ideas. Manytimesthese ideas would spark something in Chuck, and he would weave themback into the story as he developed it and laid out the animation. Other times Maurice’sideas wouldmake little impression. Maurice described this working relationship tome as “give and take, where we would bounce ideas off of each other. Sometimesmyideas would stick, and sometimesthey wouldn’t. But there was almost always exchange of ideas, and building up ofmaterial.”
Michael Maltese doing what he did best; pitching a story to the creative crew at Warner Bros. (1) Mike Maltese (2) Chuck Jones (3) Friz Freleng (4) Eddie Selzer and his assistant. (back row left to right) Ted Pierce, Bob McKimson, Warren Foster, and John Burton. Mike Maltese storyboard drawings for Tom and Jerry, produced at MGM in the mid-1960s. A great example of thisstyle ofcollaboration was onWhat’s Opera, Doc? Maurice thumbnailed dozens ofvisual ideasfor the film, which he then presented to Chuck. These weren’t pretty presentation drawings; they were ideas. It didn’t takemuch for Chuck to understand the direction Maurice was going visually. Many of these were thrown out, but Chuck was able to pull a number of Maurice’svisual ideas back into the storyboard and character layouts. This back and forth way of working is one of the reasonsWhat’s Opera, Doc?issuch a standout. A designer’sinfluence on story became clearer tome when Lawrence Marvit and I were making developmentsketchesfor Jonesin the 1990s. Inspired by Maurice’stales of an open-storyforum, we came up with some storyideasfor the filmwe were working on and presented themto Chuck.He went over everything with us, then without looking up from the drawingssaid, “The last thing I need is a layoutman who wantsto be a storyman.” For better or worse, in the end Chuck used a few of our ideasin the story, but it wasclear we were never to submitstoryideas directlyto himagain. However, there weremanytimes after that when Chuck would see the story possibilities