And finally, for the record, the two white steeds, named Jake and William, who alternated posing as the chameleon-like Horse of a Different Color, were not painted with Jell-O, as is often cited. They were colored with the same vegetable-dye pigments found in Jell-O ingredients—which passed ASPCA approval. The task of humanely pigmenting the horses’ hides fell to Jack Dawn, M-G-M’s makeup department chief.
“The Jitterbug” was the first song written for The Wizard of Oz, in the “swing” style for which Garland was known. Taking its cue from the Frank Baum book, the jitterbug was a minion of the Wicked Witch; it was a pink-and-blue spotted insect sent to bite and bother the principals into a frenetic dance number. (Once subdued, they were no match for the Winged Monkeys.) The scene was excised from the film after early previews, but samples of the sheet music were published. Trivia note: “The Jitterbug” resurfaced in an Our Gang short, “Time Out for Lessons,” released December 2, 1939, as an instrumental tap routine executed by Larry Kert (later Broadway’s original Tony in West Side Story).
Production stills generated to the press often carried with them an attached paper caption called a snipe, which would describe the scene and provide studio credits. This still is from the deleted Scarecrow sequence.
Also relegated to the cutting-room floor after preview was an extended version of Ray Bolger’s “If I Only had a Brain” number, in which the Scarecrow collapses in a series of splits before a wayward pumpkin collides into him, propelling the straw man airborne. Shown here are two Technicolor outtakes from this sequence, in which Ray Bolger’s aerial-suspension wiring is secured. (The large pumpkin can be seen on the Yellow Brick Road in the background of one shot.) The routine was deleted because it added unnecessary length to the picture and inserted too much fantasy too early on in the proceedings.
“Every delightful character of L. Frank Baum’s classic is now reborn,” announced the original film trailer. The preview that primed theatregoers for the forthcoming Technicolor spectacle was comprised of outtake and alternate-take footage not seen in the final cut of the movie.
PRIVATE SCREENINGS AND select previews for The Wizard of Oz had taken place since June 1939, after which tweaks and edits were made to trim its running time and tighten its narrative prior to its public reception at large. It was a procedure crucial to the editing process of any A-list picture but especially for The Wizard of Oz, as one reporter noted: “M-G-M is staking a lot on the public’s reception of Mervyn LeRoy’s The Wizard of Oz.”
During one of these editing sessions, an elderly man shuffled into the projection room on the M-G-M lot. He was about to leave with an apology when LeRoy invited him to sit down and see the picture. “Thanks,” the man said. “I’m one of the janitors and I don’t work for two hours.” Every night thereafter, the man stopped by the room to monitor LeRoy’s progress. Intrigued by his interest, LeRoy asked the man how he happened to come to work early enough to view The Wizard of Oz every night. The man admitted that he had planned his day that way, motivated by old-fashioned sentiment. “You see,” he explained to LeRoy, “I almost played the Wizard of Oz thirty-seven years ago.” The man’s name was Bert Outay, and he revealed that he once knew L. Frank Baum and was the understudy for John Slavin, who played the Wizard of Oz in the 1902 musical production of the book featuring David Montgomery and Fred Stone—only he never got the chance to play the role.
The Good News of 1939 radio program previewed The Wizard of Oz on June 29, with most of the main cast participating, sans Jack Haley, whose proxy on the show was M-G-M leading man Robert Young. Billie Burke, also not present, was inadvertently listed among the stars appearing. Judy Garland introduced “Over the Rainbow,” and her costars each sang their respective character’s song and bantered about the new picture. While it is believed that this broadcast marked the public debut of the songs from The Wizard of Oz, an intriguing historical discrepancy was recently uncovered. A Tune-Up Time radio spot Garland made the previous April 6 for CBS in New York was heralded on that date by its Charleston, West Virginia, affiliate as follows: “Dorothy, the little Kansas girl whisked away to the wondrous Land of Oz in The Wizard of Oz, comes to life again over WCHS . . . through the lilting voice of Judy Garland. The youthful screen star sings selections from M-G-M’s forthcoming Technicolor version of the children’s classic as a feature of Tune-Up Time.” (As recordings of two non–Wizard of Oz songs Judy sang on the program are extant, it is unclear whether her performance of numbers from The Wizard of Oz was a case of misreporting or a programming change.)
By the end of July, M-G-M’s film-processing laboratory had worked overtime to produce 550 prints of The Wizard of Oz. Following the protocol of the time, when the film was entered for copyright with the Library of Congress, on August 7, 1939, it was registered with a cache of production stills (rather than with a print of the film); these stills remain in the library’s collections to this day.
The theatrical trailer for The Wizard of Oz was presented in travelogue format. It began, “Many, many miles east of nowhere lies the amazing Land of Oz . . .” and continued, “Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, joining the world in the celebration of the Golden Jubilee of Motion Pictures, climaxes a half century of entertainment progress by presenting its miracle in celluloid, the Technicolor extravaganza, The Wizard of Oz.”
The Wizard of Oz, at last, was here.
One of the earliest pieces of prerelease publicity for The Wizard of Oz was this syndicated article by Clarke Wales, illustrated with colorized production stills and a candid of Fleming, LeRoy, and choreographer Bobby Connolly in conference.
SETTING THE DATE
“GAIETY! GLORY! GLAMOUR!”
–M-G-M’S PUBLICITY CATCHPHRASE TO HYPE THE FILM
THE JULY 8, 1939, edition of Daily Variety announced that The Wizard of Oz would have its official premiere at the Carthay Circle Theatre in Hollywood on August 16, 1939. The Carthay had the reputation of being the launching site of important pictures intended for limited-engagement theatrical road shows; that is, select screenings with reserved seats at premium prices. At 75 cents per ticket (three times the national average), the projected several-month run of The Wizard of Oz at the Carthay would uphold an aura of prestige for the succeeding road show premiere of the highly anticipated Gone with the Wind. By early August, a scheduling adjustment changed the expected August 16 premiere date to August 10. Meanwhile, M-G-M determined how to best showcase The Wizard of Oz: Would the road show angle be lucrative? Should it be single-billed or double-billed with another picture? In an attempt to make the film more accessible to a wider audience, in terms of both show times and prices, the premiere venue switched from the Carthay to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, necessitating an early termination of Stanley and Livingstone. The Wizard of Oz would have its Hollywood premiere Tuesday evening, August 15.
The Wizard of Oz was at first scheduled to have its premiere at the Carthay Circle Theatre on August 9 but the date was pushed back a day and then canceled; the date and venue were both rescheduled.
Such premiere musical-chairs was not unheard of; The Women, which followed The Wizard of Oz on Metro’s release schedule, endured similar logistical snafus. The scheduling roulette accounted for the film’s debut in scattered regional play dates (largely shore resorts) ahead of the Grauman’s screening but post–August 10—the originally intended premiere date. These included Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and Kenosha and Appleton, Wisconsin, on August 11; Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, on August 12; and Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and Racine and Sheboygan, Wisconsin, on August 13.
The forecourt of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre for the Wizard of Oz premiere.
Cover of the souvenir program.
THE WEST COAST PREMIERE:
GRAUMAN’S CHINESE THEATRE
THE WIZARD OF OZ premiere at Grauman’s was the event to cap the summer in Hollywood, and no expense was spared in mounting it. The Grauman’s courtyard was adorned with decor direct from the film’s sets: a section of the Yellow Brick Road; a f
enced cornfield and a scarecrow dressed in Ray Bolger’s duds; green glass Emerald City spires; the large overhanging flower canopy from the Munchkinland pavilion; a Tin Man robot (better suited to the New York World’s Fair); and flat cutouts of the Munchkin huts. Several Munchkin players, made up and costumed for their parts, were on hand to lend atmosphere and to mingle with the guests. Bleachers were erected—a Grauman’s first—for 3,500 star seekers and autograph hounds. Inside, Grauman’s seated about 2,000 (anticipating a hit, Mervyn LeRoy reserved seats for a party of sixty), and, with the $2.20 tickets in hot demand, the Evening News ran a promotional “Cinderella Girl” contest to give away an evening of luxury for some lucky winner that climaxed in the VIP treatment at the premiere.
LEFT: Guests of honor are, from left to right, actress Paula Stone; Maud Baum, widow of L. Frank Baum; Ray Bolger; and Fred Stone, scarecrow in the 1902 musical-comedy. RIGHT: Actor Harold Lloyd and his son greet a Munchkin.
The Wizard of Oz premiere was covered in fan magazines, which pictured attending Hollywood stars such as Orson Welles, Wallace Beery, Bert Lahr, Eleanor Powell, and Mervyn LeRoy, with ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. After the opening, members of the cast and crew (including Fleming and LeRoy) reconvened at the Trocadero nightclub to belatedly celebrate Bert Lahr’s August 13 birthday.
Such was the growing fan frenzy that the press reported that Joan Crawford would not be in attendance, as was originally announced, and Lana Turner had taken ill. Plenty of Hollywood’s finest did turn out, though, and Maud Baum, widow of author L. Frank Baum, was a guest of honor. According to her granddaughter, Ozma Baum Mantele, Maud appeared “engulfed” in the excitement, taking questions from Frank Whitbeck, the master of ceremonies, for a live radio broadcast at the premiere dais located outside the theatre. In a nostalgic nod to old-timers, Fred Stone, the actor who portrayed the Scarecrow in the original 1902 stage show, made an appearance that night, as did Goodee Montgomery, niece of the show’s deceased Tin Woodman, David Montgomery. Among the M-G-M cast present were Frank Morgan, Charley Grapewin, Bert Lahr, Margaret Hamilton, Billie Burke, and Ray Bolger. Because she was in New York at the time, Judy Garland missed the festivities and only saw The Wizard of Oz for the first time in its entirety in an M-G-M projection room a year later.
Immediately following the revelry, Maud Baum expressed her enthusiasm in a letter to D. L. Chambers, president of Bobbs-Merrill and publisher of The Wizard of Oz: “The Wizard premiere was the most elaborate and largest Hollywood has ever seen. They had to call out the mounted police to handle the crowds. The court of the Chinese Theatre was fixed to look like the Oz country. I spoke over the [dais] mic—had my picture taken dozens of times, etc. The picture is beautiful—and I have never seen such reviews.”
The premiere was indeed a smashing success, with glowing reviews the following day granting praise as equally for the picture as for the star-studded event. The Los Angeles critics were unanimous in their admiration for The Wizard of Oz. Philip K. Scheurer said, “I can think of no other film with human actors with which to compare the ‘reality’ of its make-believe.” Edwin Schallert called it “a new experience and a new thrill.” And Harrison Carroll attested to the film’s timelessness: “You can see it again and again and never tire of its marvels.” Riding the current of its West Coast accolades, the film was set to break—just two days later—in New York City.
THE EAST COAST PREMIERE:
NEW YORK’S CAPITOL THEATRE
IN JULY 1939, it was anticipated that The Wizard of Oz would open at New York’s Astor Theatre “shortly after Labor Day,” with a national release “two or three weeks later.” But a month on, both the New York premiere date and venue had been adjusted, to August 17 at the Capitol Theatre. It was a momentous occasion for Syracuse, New York’s, celebrated native sons, L. Frank Baum and Harold Arlen, as The Wizard of Oz debuted at the local Loew’s theatre on the same date.
The East Coast premiere of The Wizard of Oz at New York’s Capitol Theatre was eventful enough to be fictionally dramatized two years later in the novelty book Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland: The Story of Their Rise to Fame and Fortune in the Movies, which also included an inaccurate account of how Garland got her role as Dorothy. The book’s fabricated retelling has the precocious teens storming the offices of M-G-M vice president Louis B. Mayer to spontaneously suggest that the studio send them on a personal appearance tour culminating with a send-off in New York—all motivated by their collective itch to return to their vaudeville roots on the stage. After some deliberation, Mayer picks up the phone and says, “Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney are opening at the Capitol Theatre in New York with The Wizard of Oz. Yes . . . yes . . . I want the stage reopened. Make the arrangements with Loew’s.”
In actuality, Garland and Rooney’s engagement at the Capitol was a carefully orchestrated cross-country junket with publicity stops along the way, by which the young stars’ appearances not only heightened the excitement for The Wizard of Oz’s opening but also created buzz for their upcoming feature, Babes in Arms. The duo was slated to present a live show consisting of musical numbers and comedy sketches that preceded each screening of The Wizard of Oz.
The Gotham premiere of The Wizard of Oz was covered in the regional publications Info About New York and Cue.
Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland arrive in New York’s Grand Central Station, August 14, 1939. There, the two were mobbed by more than ten thousand fans. The duo’s appearance gave rise to nationwide Mickey-Judy fan clubs.
A press luncheon at the Waldorf Astoria, where the pair was lodged.
Just prior to the New York premiere, Ben Serkowich, press agent of the Capitol’s publicity department, issued an announcement:
“Fun history for New York will probably date from Thursday, August 17, when Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer brings The Wizard of Oz to the Capitol Theatre. Although this event in itself is expected to be enough to make it a red-letter day on anyone’s calendar, the Capitol will also present Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland, in person, on the stage, between performances of the film. Judy is the little Kansas girl blown by a cyclone to the Land of Oz. Mickey is not in The Wizard of Oz but he does come along on the screen a few months hence with Judy in Babes in Arms.” Garland and Rooney’s New York sojourn exceeded all expectations, and on opening day it was estimated that anywhere from ten thousand to fifteen thousand moviegoers stood in line to see The Wizard of Oz—and to take in the live entertainment by the young Hollywood stars.
Loew’s saw to it that its East Coast licensing merchants got premiere invites as well. At the Capitol, first-week grosses were $70,000, or 167 percent over the normal take, while in twenty-five of the subsequent first key-city openings, The Wizard of Oz brought in an average of 58 percent more ticket sales.
After the August 30 evening show, Rooney returned to the West Coast, and the following day, performances continued with Garland and cast mates Ray Bolger and Bert Lahr. Lahr arrived in New York agitated: the Super Chief streamliner, otherwise known as the “Train of the Stars,” had misplaced the comedian’s luggage.
The film’s great triumph may have served to console one regret: its prolonged shooting schedule, coupled with plans for the personal appearance tour, caused Judy Garland to cancel the European vacation she and her mother had been planning since the previous February; by summer 1939, the imminent declaration of war made the overseas excursion ill-advised. In early September Garland returned to Hollywood with a limp, having performed the last two shows at the Capitol with a sprained ankle.
After August 31, 1939, Mickey left New York, but Garland was reunited at the Capitol with her costars Ray Bolger and Bert Lahr. The actors joined Garland onstage for a song-and-comedy act, which featured the film’s deleted “Jitterbug” number. Garland traded ribs with Lahr: when he turned out the lights and grabbed her microphone during a serious song, she retaliated during his routine by showering him with a bushel of wood chips, crowning him with the basket, and squirting him with seltzer.
Ne
w York Herald Tribune cartoonist William O’Brian caricatured The Wizard of Oz cast for the picture’s Capitol opening.
PUBLICITY AND THE REVIEWS
“I SAW [THE WIZARD OF OZ] YESTERDAY, AND, PUTTING ASIDE MY INTEREST AS AN EMPLOYEE, HAVE NO HESITANCY IN SAYING THAT I THINK IT IS THE FINEST MOTION PICTURE ENTERTAINMENT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OF ASSOCIATION WITH THE INDUSTRY . . . IT IS REALLY THE KIND OF THING PEOPLE WILL WANT TO SEE AGAIN AND AGAIN.”
–CAPITOL THEATRE PRESS AGENT BEN SERKOWICH, IN AN AUGUST 4, 1939, LETTER TO NEW YORK FILM CRITICS
AS THE PUBLICITY machine geared up to promote The Wizard of Oz, M-G-M proclaimed: “Greatest magic film ever to be made! Screen’s most spectacular musical! Thousands of living actors in a sensation unmatched since the wonders of famed Snow White!” Plans for publicizing The Wizard of Oz began in early April 1939 with a target date of July 1 to begin breaking coverage nationally, though some photos slipped out as early as the previous February. Newspaper and fan magazine coverage ranged from colorful advertisements to Kodachrome layouts to Sunday paper rotogravures, all of which served to fuel intrigue for the highly anticipated motion picture.
Some theatres added the line “Not a Cartoon” to their newspaper ads for The Wizard of Oz, to make it clear that the film was, in fact, live action. Reviewers followed suit, with one journalist writing, “Don’t go to see The Wizard of Oz thinking you are going to be treated to a Walt Disney color cartoon.” Despite these clarifications, the overall look and style of the film had an otherworldly aura, so much so that Sterling Sorensen, the stage-and-screen editor for the Madison, Wisconsin, Capital Times, wrote, “The strangest thing about The Wizard of Oz . . . is that it resembles a color cartoon by Walt Disney. It seems at times to have been drawn, rather than enacted on solid stages with living people . . . Judy Garland as the little girl is sweet and as pretty as Snow White.”
The Wizard of Oz: The Official 75th Anniversary Companion Page 8
