THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVERBERATIONS FROM HAMILTON’S FEROCIOUS DELIVERY BEGAN ALMOST IMMEDIATELY.
Admirers of Margaret Hamilton’s performance will appreciate her role in Comin’ Round the Mountain (1951), with comic team Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. She plays backwoods gypsy Aunt Huddy, and her makeup and delivery strongly evoke the Wicked Witch (Costello even test-drives her flying broom). By the time of her appearance as Elaine Zacharides, the intimidating housekeeper in 13 Ghosts (1960), Hamilton had become familiar to audiences through TV showings of The Wizard of Oz. Elaine is accused of being “a witch” several times throughout the picture, and in the closing scene she picks up a broom, smirks directly at the audience, and walks off camera, leaving viewers to speculate whether the accusations are true. Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West remains one of the highlights of The Wizard of Oz, and her depiction ranks fourth on the American Film Institute’s June 2003 list of the fifty best movie villains of all time.
Character actor Mitchell Lewis poses in his uniform as Captain of the Winkie Guard, August 27, 1938. (The final Winkie makeup would resemble the Wicked Witch’s complexion and proboscis once Margaret Hamilton assumed the role.)
“O-EE-YAH! EOH-AH!”
–CHANT OF THE WINKIE GUARDS
IN THE WONDERFUL Wizard of Oz, the Winkies are the Wicked Witch’s slaves. The motion picture’s Winkie soldiers, however, are far more menacing than the passive, Munchkin-size natives of Baum’s book. In 1938, the picture’s Winkies were described as having long noses, green complexions, fur hats, and gigantic gray overcoats with red stripes. Their costumes were made of “the finest grade of heavy felt, buttoned tight from neck to tie, and the Winkies all nearly died from heat prostration” working under the huge arc lights necessary for Technicolor filming. Reportedly, there were twenty-eight Winkies who all looked exactly alike.
Winkie art from a 1940 Portuguese photoplay edition of The Wizard of Oz matches the on-screen look of the imposing militia.
A set still documents the drawbridge entrance to the Wicked Witch’s castle, where the Winkies stage their military maneuvers.
The Winged Monkeys in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz must obey the wearer of the Golden Cap, who commands the three wishes that such ownership imparts. By the time Dorothy encounters her, the Wicked Witch is in possession of the cap and controls the monkeys. The Golden Cap was scripted into the motion picture but reference to it was excised, though it is still seen briefly on screen. Men with slight builds donned hair suits and facial appliances to portray the army of Winged Monkeys; motorized wings completed the effect. In his October 3, 1938, column, Jimmie Fidler put out the call, “If anyone has a pair of condor wings for sale, he should contact M-G-M; they’re trying to outfit the Winged Monkeys for The Wizard of Oz.”
Generations of movie-watchers will forever shudder at the thought of the grotesque Winged Monkeys who wreak havoc upon Dorothy and her companions in the Haunted Forest. Wardrobe tests for the creatures were the subject of much trial and error in autumn 1938. Pat Walshe expertly pantomimed the part of Nikko, monkey aide to the Wicked Witch.
“AND REMEMBER, MY SENTIMENTAL FRIEND, THAT A HEART IS NOT JUDGED BY HOW MUCH YOU LOVE, BUT BY HOW MUCH YOU ARE LOVED BY OTHERS.”
–FRANK MORGAN AS THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939
CHARACTER ACTOR W. C. Fields was favored for the part of the Wizard of Oz by both Arthur Freed, the film’s uncredited associate producer, and lyricist E. Y. Harburg. (Harburg had even contributed dialogue of the Wizard of Oz bestowing gifts to Dorothy’s friends with Fields in mind.) Despite LeRoy’s wanting fussbudget comedian Ed Wynn for the Wizard of Oz, Fields could easily have answered LeRoy’s call. “I’m looking for a little shrimp,” said the producer in August 1938, “but just any kind of little shrimp won’t do; he’s got to have ability and personal magnetism.” After a scheduling or salary conflict precluded Fields from taking the role, Frank Morgan was cast.
Frank Morgan models one look for the Emerald City Gatekeeper on November 6, 1938 (above, left). By January 7, 1939, the final choice for the character was decided (below). Morgan also portrayed Kansan Professor Marvel (above, center and right). Movie Mirror magazine reported, “Frank Morgan is in a pretty pother . . . it’s his moustache. In The Wizard of Oz he wears a dandy moustache, but in Broadway Serenade, which he is making at the same time, he wears none. It means he must pop in and out of moustaches until he is dizzy.”
A veteran of vaudeville and debonair leading man of the New York stage and silent pictures, Morgan brought his own patented spin of confused doublespeak to the part of the Wizard of Oz. His comedic timing also lent itself to witty ad-libs. When the Wizard of Oz’s throne caught fire during an overzealous blast of pyrotechnics, Morgan riposted, “Ah—the hot seat!”
At the time of The Wizard of Oz, Morgan, born Francis Philip Wuppermann, was vice president of the family business, Angostura-Wuppermann, the largest bitters firm in America. Morgan came to work with a portable black cabinet—a miniature stocked bar—that he consulted in his dressing room as necessary in order to project the bewildered milquetoast persona, which he had perfected by the late 1930s. Judy Garland affectionately recalled that Morgan “nipped a bit . . . most of the time I’m not sure he knew what he was doing. And he did it so damn well!”
FRANK MORGAN
Despite being Academy Award® -nominated two times in his life—for Best Actor in The Affairs of Cellini (1934) and Best Supporting Actor for the Victor Fleming–directed production Tortilla Flat (1942)—Morgan’s most famous and beloved role was that of the Wizard of Oz. (In an odd bit of trivia, Morgan plays a Spaniard simpleton in Tortilla Flat who presides over a band of stray dogs—among them, Toto from The Wizard of Oz.) Morgan died in 1949, and was the one major player from the film unable to see the cultural fixture it would become, though his official press obituary did acknowledge his part in The Wizard of Oz. He is buried in Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery,with both names—Wuppermann and Morgan—on his tombstone.
“TOTO . . . WAS A LITTLE BLACK DOG, WITH LONG, SILKY HAIR AND SMALL BLACK EYES THAT TWINKLED MERRILY ON EITHER SIDE OF HIS FUNNY, WEE NOSE.”
–DESCRIPTION OF TOTO FROM THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ, 1900
WHILE FRANK MORGAN’S reputation for scene stealing was legendary, he might have met his match in his canine cast mate. According to Beverly Allen, kennel man to Toto’s trainer and owner, Carl Spitz, Dorothy’s little (female) cairn terrier was not above upstaging a costar. Allen reported, “[Spitz] used to say little Toto would steal a scene from Judy Garland.”
A November 8, 1938, M-G-M press release explained that Dorothy’s pet was discovered “after a search that covered all parts of the country, the testing of hundreds of dog actors, and receipt by Mervyn LeRoy, the producer, of letters and pictures from every city in the United States.” But Toto was found closer to home; Spitz’s Hollywood Dog Training School was located right in the San Fernando Valley. The five-year-old, seventeen-pound pup was no stranger to working in motion pictures, having gotten her start opposite Shirley Temple in Bright Eyes (1934). At the time, Toto’s name was Terry, but following the popularity of The Wizard of Oz her name was permanently changed.
The Wizard of Oz brought Toto newfound fame, prompting some theatres to raffle off look-alike dogs as publicity stunts. The hottest “signature” among autograph collectors quickly became Toto’s paw print. Tongue in cheek, Toto’s cotrainer Jack Weatherwax told the International News Service, “She’s a wonderful little dog; everybody’s friend, always a kind bark for every other dog; very stylish when dressed up; and a great little actress.” In autumn 1940, Spitz took Toto on the road with five other famous canines in a tour that played theatre stages nationally. Spitz answered questions about proper feeding and training before putting his dogs through reenactments of their on-screen stunts, which climaxed in his Great Dane, Prince Carl, simulating a ferocious attack on a man.
Child actor Martin Spellman worked with Toto when they appeared together in
Son of the Navy (1940). He attested to the little dog’s appeal, saying, “I have always had dogs my whole life and many were very smart, but Toto was the smartest dog I have ever known.” He continued: “I was aware that I was working with Toto [from The Wizard of Oz]. What I wasn’t aware of is that I would fall in love with her and she with me. For three wonderful weeks she was my dog. And I missed her when the picture ended like I hoped she missed me.” Judy Garland was similarly affected. When she arrived in New York to promote The Wizard of Oz in August 1939, she told interviewer Julia McCarthy she was sad because she missed Toto and even longed to get a dog of the same breed for her very own.
Martin Spellman with Toto and James Dunn, 1940.
After The Wizard of Oz, Toto continued performing in other pictures, including a 1942 Three Stooges comedy. As was true of all dog actors, she only responded to silent hand cues given from out of camera range (watch her carefully in The Wizard of Oz to see her look off camera for her trainer’s direction). Toto passed away during the World War II years, but on June 18, 2011, a permanent memorial honoring her was erected at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles.
“SHE WAS BOTH BEAUTIFUL AND YOUNG TO THEIR EYES. HER HAIR WAS A RICH RED IN COLOR AND FELL IN FLOWING RINGLETS OVER HER SHOULDERS. HER DRESS WAS PURE WHITE; BUT HER EYES WERE BLUE, AND THEY LOOKED KINDLY UPON THE LITTLE GIRL.”
–DESCRIPTION OF GLINDA FROM THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ, 1900
THE PRECEDING ATTRIBUTES could just as easily have appeared in any turn-of-the-century theatre critic’s praise for actress Billie Burke. A famous stage beauty renowned for her melodious diction and flaming red locks, Burke made her theatrical debut in 1903, was celebrated on Broadway, and appeared in silent films beginning in 1916. However, she was best known as the wife, and later widow, of the fabulous theatrical impresario Florenz Ziegfeld.
A famous beauty of stage and silent films, Billie Burke reinvented herself in the 1930s as a perpetually befuddled comedienne in films such as Dinner at Eight, Everybody Sing, and Topper. The widow of impresario Florenz Ziegfeld, Burke was portrayed by Myrna Loy in The Great Ziegfeld (1936). As Glinda, Burke expressed a gentleness that was the perfect foil to the Wicked Witch of the West.
For the character of Glinda the Good Witch, the screenwriters combined the two good witches who befriended Dorothy in Baum’s book: the Good Witch of the North and Glinda, who resides in the southern region of the Land of Oz. In creating Billie Burke’s costume, M-G-M’s premier designer, Adrian, combined the descriptions of Baum’s witches, too. In a nod to the Good Witch of the North, Burke’s gown was made of layers of delicate pink tulle sprinkled with “northern stars” and frosty snow crystals. Adrian added a butterfly motif and gave Glinda “wings” in homage to the script’s description of Glinda’s gift of flight. (Glinda’s snow crystals would further foreshadow the storm she creates to wake Dorothy and her friends from the deadly poppy field.) The June 9, 1938, script described Glinda as a “lovely vision—tall, sweet-faced—graceful—in other words—a child’s idea of ‘the good fairy.’” Burke herself referred to Glinda as a “fairy” rather than a “witch.”
BILLIE BURKE
Burke’s performance as Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz is often underrated by modern critics. But watch her delivery as a flighty, melodramatic matron in Dinner at Eight (1933) or Everybody Sing (1938) with Judy Garland to appreciate how restrained a performance she gives as the Land of Oz’s all-knowing and serene sorceress. Some fans will be astonished to know that Burke was fifty-four when she portrayed the ageless Glinda the Good Witch. At the time, the Los Angeles Times reported, “[Burke] appears almost like a being eternally young.” Burke ranked Glinda as her favorite part because it was reminiscent of the grander days and resplendent costumery of her stage roots.
FLIGHT OF FANCY
“MY! PEOPLE COME AND GO SO QUICKLY HERE!”
–JUDY GARLAND AS DOROTHY, 1939
IN TURNER ENTERTAINMENT Co.’s The Wizard of Oz, Glinda the Good Witch of the North effortlessly materializes and vanishes in an airborne sphere. In the Baum book, Glinda is a beautiful witch who governs over the Land of Oz’s southern territory. It is another good witch, described as a little woman whose “face was covered with wrinkles, her hair was nearly white, and she walked rather stiffly,” who hails from the northern region in the Land of Oz. For the film version of The Wizard of Oz, the two sorceresses were simply merged to create a single character.
Baum’s Glinda doesn’t demonstrate any mystical ability to teleport herself, but the north witch disappears on the turn of her heel. However, the old cinematic trick of now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t dates back to filmmaking’s earliest experimentations with stop-motion photography; something more unique was needed for Glinda, whose costume had a butterfly motif. In Baum’s 1909 book The Road to Oz, guests at an Emerald City celebration (including Santa Claus) are safely returned home by means of the Wizard of Oz’s ingenious bubble-making invention, which operates using bellows and soapsuds strengthened with glue. A similar flying device was decided as an elegant means of transporting Burke’s Glinda in and around the Land of Oz.
A 1939 edition of Citizen Magazine described the challenge of making Glinda’s bubble float into a scene, burst, and reveal Burke as the “[m]ost difficult laboratory job” on set. Hollywood insider Paul Harrison described how this effect was achieved, writing, “The only instance of successful double-exposure [in a Technicolor film] is a bubble that comes bouncing along Munchkinland, changing color and growing larger until finally it stops and out steps Billie Burke . . . This was done by photographing a dangling, jet-black ball and then, on the color negative, hand-tinting the white circle that resulted.” Other accounts tell of photographing a silver ball by zooming in and out with the camera to minimize or expand its size and shape before layering its image in a double exposure. Electrician Raymond Griffith claimed that the ethereal effect was enhanced with yet another double-exposure by manually spinning huge lights that were situated in the four corners of a room but aimed directly at the room’s center. And indeed, such shifting lights can be seen as Glinda’s bubble descends into Munchkinland for the first time.
“EVERY MIDGET IN THE NATION WHO WOULD COME TO HOLLYWOOD HAD TO BE FOUND TO PLAY THE MUNCHKINS . . . THE STUDIO TURNED THE ASSIGNMENT OVER TO LEO SINGER OF SINGER’S MIDGETS FAME . . . IN TWO BUSES, HE SCOURED THE NATION, RETURNING TO HOLLYWOOD WITH MIDGETS FOUR TO A SEAT.”
–M-G-M PRESS PUBLICITY, 1939
IN THE WONDERFUL WIZARD of Oz, Baum describes the first citizens Dorothy encounters in the Land of Oz as being “not as big as the grown folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small. In fact, they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown child for her age.” To portray the 124 Munchkins in the film, Mervyn LeRoy at first considered casting children, most of whom could be readily recruited from local dance schools, such as the Meglin Studios. One account suggested that LeRoy would be assigning Munchkin parts to M-G-M child stars Mickey Rooney and Freddie Bartholomew. But the demands and restrictions of casting, rehearsing, and filming that many minors made the notion infeasible. A nationwide call was put out through booking agents, carnival and circus owners, and newspapers for perfectly proportioned little people, or midgets, as they were once commonly called.
On December 13, 1938, all the Munchkins who were prominently featured, or had on-camera “bits,” in Munchkinland were tested in their wardrobe. • TOP, LEFT: “She’s really most sincerely dead.” Meinhardt Raabe as the Munchkin coroner; the decorative laurel around his scrolled cap was replaced with a simple hatband. • TOP, CENTER: Munchkinland dignitaries included the barrister, as personified by “Little Billy” Rhodes. • TOP, RIGHT: Mickey Carroll, as the town crier, wears an urn-like hat from which lilacs sprout, which went unused in his on-film scenes.
TOP, FAR LEFT AND SECOND FROM LEFT: “Prince Leon” Polinsky and Frank Cucksey were the first and second townsmen Munchkins who welcome Dorothy with a bouquet. • TO
P, RIGHT: John “Johnny” Leal as the deaf townsman. Leal’s humorous refrain, “Which old witch?,” was cut from the song “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead.” • TOP, FAR RIGHT: “And oh, what happened then was rich!” Billy Curtis poses as the Munchkin town braggart.
Director Victor Fleming poses with Leo Singer and roughly half of the extras portraying Munchkins. Although impresarios Nate Eagle, Harvey Williams, and Henry Kramer were among those agents representing some of the little people required for the 120-odd inhabitants of Munchkinland, the diminutive actors were collectively billed as “Singer’s Midgets.”
TOP, LEFT TO RIGHT: Tommy Cottonaro in costume as the “bearded man” Munchkin. • As in the L. Frank Baum story, the film’s Dorothy is entertained by five Munchkin fiddlers. Here, Friedrich “Freddie” Ritter models the rear view of Adrian’s fiddler wardrobe. • Murray Wood as Munchkinland’s lord mayor.
Stage magazine detailed M-G-M’s plight in accommodating more than a hundred Munchkin actors in a 1939 column: “Since the studio was constructed with players of normal height and weight in mind, there was some difficulty in finding chairs and dressing tables and bathroom fixtures of sufficient nearness to the ground to be utilitarian.” Beyond this challenge, however, was an even more obscure one; the account also revealed how it was necessary to hire a man for the sole purpose of picking the Munchkins up and putting them down again on designated spots: “He was called the ‘midget elevator,’ and the local unions were in a temporary dither over his salary classification.”
The Wizard of Oz: The Official 75th Anniversary Companion Page 5
