Dr. Toon: Duck and Cover-Up

Dr. Toon recounts how terrifying a toon can be when one is young and impressionable, as he harkens back to when he first saw Duck and Cover, now ensconced in the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry.
Posted In | Magazines: AnimationWorld | Columns: Dr. Toon

Controversial toon Duck and Cover, a nine-minute civil defense film, was added to the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry in 2004. All images courtesy of CONELRAD Collection.
 

In my time, I have seen some tremendous animation — given seven lifetimes, I could never aspire to that level of creativity. I have seen prodigious amounts of mediocre animation that comprise the very definition of “time-filler.” I have seen my share of bad animation. Some of these regrettable artifacts were incomprehensible, poorly made independent films accessible to no one but the creator. Others were (and are) soulless corporate products seemingly designed to sully viewing screens both large and small.

Still, even the worst animated dross has something uplifting about it. The fact that any animation exists is still a tribute to human cognition and creativity, however skewed or flawed it may be. There really was a time when an entire network somehow believed that Wheelie and the Chopper Bunch was a terrific concept. Thus, I can never bring myself to the point of actual hatred for any piece of animation. With one exception.

The toon I despise beyond all was actually ensconced in the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry on Dec. 8, 2004. Despite this singular honor, it is doubtful that many of you have actually seen him. Better known to historians than animation fans, Bert the Turtle was the “star” of perhaps the most unsettling film I saw in my childhood, a nine-minute civil defense film called Duck and Cover. This film, produced in order to teach schoolchildren the basics of civil defense in the atomic age, terrified me to the point of nightmares, sparked apocalyptic daydreams and caused me to pummel my parents with anguished questions that no young kid should have been asking.

Sometime during 1948, ex-Disney animator Lars E. Calonius formed an advertising agency called Archer Productions Inc. in New York City. By May 1950, the new studio was a successful venture, and Colonius’ brother-in-law, Leo Langlois, joined Archer as exec producer/vp. Langlois, already an experienced advertising exec, was on board when the studio made the decision to bid on civil defense motion pictures in 1951. The Federal Civil Defense Administration (FCDA) granted the studio two films in April.

The following month, Langlois and a screenwriter named Ray Mauer met with officials of the National Education Administration to discuss the topic of civil defense for schools. There they met up with an assistant headmistress from Virginia by the name of Helen Seth-Smith, who spoke of the “duck and cover” drills conducted at her school. Langlois and Mauer now had a theme.

In October, Langlois became president of Archer, and pre-production of the film Duck and Cover was underway. Mauer decided that since the audience was composed of children, the film might have greater appeal if some of it were animated. Lars Colonius set to work designing Bert the Turtle and his antagonist, a skunk. Veteran Hollywood animator Emery Hawkins was on hand to assist Colonius. At roughly the same time physicist Edwin Teller and crew, with the blessing of President Truman, were designing a thermonuclear fusion weapon called “the Super” — the hydrogen bomb.







Comments


Some scant memories from the atomic scare of the 1950s are still left in my brain. Born in 1951, I was relatively sheltered from the horrors the grown-ups saw in the papers and newsreels. (TV wasn't very common in Finnish households back then, but being next-door neighbor to the Soviet Union certainly didn't ease their worries.) Two things come to mind: During a Sunday walk in the woods in our suburb in the late 50s, whenever we had walked a few hundred feet more, I asked my dad: "If an atomic bomb would detonate downtown, how loud would the bang be here"... The other thing was a recurring nightmare: I was about to set off an A-bomb myself (!), in a desert of all places, and had just lit the fuse (yes, cartoon type!), and when I was trying to run away, my feet were stuck in ther sand. I usually woke up with my feet entangled in the sheets. I've been a cartoon fan all my life - now, I make my living doing animation and special effects. But I remember with fondness the cartoons that were a part of our family's Sunday outings, we usually went to a "non-stop" movie theater, where they were playing newsreels and cartoons. I don't think "Duck & Cover" was ever shown here in Finland, but I do think some of the US newsreels that were shown must have contributed to the anxiety.
J-E Nystrom (not verified) | Tue, 03/14/2006 - 01:00 | Permalink
My memory of Bert is quite different. I grew up in the same time period and recall the film and the duck and cover drills, but I don't recall taking them seriously. I grew up in our nation's capitol and believed that the evil empire didn't have the ability to deliver a surprise attack. Even if they did try our military might would triumph. We were not well informed and while there was a period when we didn't dring milk due to fallout from atomic testing, we didn't put two and two together. By the late '70s used copies of the film were being show as camp humor where I was now living, San Francisco. I showned it strictly for laughs at an experimental/counter-culture theater I was part of. Audiences laughed at Bert and sang along, but the live action part of the film was a bore (unfortunatly that is at least 90% of the film)so I didn't book it a second time. In the early '80s, when the documentary feature Atomic Cafe included clips of Bert, he became a camp hero of sorts. For some strange reason this silly turtle that I never took seriously will not fade away. While the film is a good example of poorly made propaganda (very low budget as Dr. Toon points out) I see no reason why the Library of Congress needed to add it to their list of important film acomplishments. I know there was a letter campaign to get the film on the list of great American films. The organizers did do some excellent research into the films history, but they never explained why it is an important milestone. I feel that by including it the value of the Library of Congress' list is somehow cheapened. Today I see Duck and Cover as a pathetic attempt to "educate" and, since it scared young Dr Toon, to scare some of our nation's youth. There are much better Cold War propaganda cartoons including five or six big budget gems by Sutherland Productions in Hollywood (Destination Earth, Meet King Joe and others). Too bad one of them didn't make the list instead.
Karl Cohen (not verified) | Tue, 03/14/2006 - 01:00 | Permalink
You also forgot to mention that a spoof on Duck and Cover was included in a scene from Brad Bird's The Iron Giant, which was obviously not a praiseful one. :)
Andrew Kaiko (not verified) | Tue, 03/07/2006 - 01:00 | Permalink

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