|
|
CHARLIE BROWN (in cartoon segment): I feel miserable. Nobody
likes me. Why can't I have fun like everybody else?
TERENCE SMITH: For almost 50 years, Americans have empathized with
Charlie Brown, the lovable loser and star of Charles Schulz's "Peanuts,"
the comic strip that spawned TV specials, films and a merchandising
empire. Although filled with self-doubt and anxiety, Charlie Brown never
gives up: Hoping to win a baseball game, putting one over on his dog
Snoopy, and getting the little red-headed girl he's madly in love with.
CHARLIE
BROWN: "Dear little red-haired girl ..."
TERENCE SMITH: Other "Peanuts" characters Schulz created
have become as beloved as Charlie Brown. Like him, they have complicated
feelings and appealing idiosyncrasies. Snoopy imagines he's a World
War I ace.
CHARLIE BROWN: Aughh!
TERENCE SMITH: Lucy foils Charlie Brown at every opportunity
...
LUCY: What do you want?
TERENCE SMITH: ... charging him a nickel for empty psychiatric advice.
LINUS: The proof of the pudding is under the crust.
LUCY: Aughh!
TERENCE
SMITH: Linus is the philosopher king who will never surrender his blanket.
(Piano playing) There are also Schroeder, Marcy, Peppermint Patty and
many others. They live in a neighborhood like any in post-World War
II suburban America. There are occasional references to real events,
like a bird named Woodstock.
CHARLIE BROWN: Good grief.
TERENCE SMITH: But with no Nintendo games or MTV, the "Peanuts"
kids seem to be from a gentler, less sophisticated era.
LUCY: Blech!
TERENCE
SMITH: It's the adult emotions that are expressed --
CHARLIE BROWN: My anxieties have anxieties.
|
 |
|
TERENCE
SMITH: ... The sadness, the longing and rejection that many say account
for "Peanuts'" universal appeal. Whatever the reasons, more
than 355 million people read "Peanuts" every day in 2,600
newspapers in 75 countries. Peanuts products have been highly successful
-- toys, greeting cards and lunch boxes to name a few. There is even
a millennium Snoopy.
It's estimated that the cartoon's franchise generates $1 billion in
revenue each year, and that creator Charles Schulz's annual income from
the strips, merchandise and product endorsements is $30 million to $40
million a year. When Schulz announced a few weeks ago that he was retiring
for treatment of colon cancer, and that there would be no new "Peanuts"
episodes, there was a general outpouring of dismay, and the story made
the front page of every major American newspaper.
Seventy-seven-year-old Schulz wanted to be a cartoonist from the time
he was a small boy, a dream he pursued in spite of receiving poor grades
in art school.
CHARLES SCHULZ: I applied for Walt Disney when I graduated from high
school, but I got turned down.
TERENCE
SMITH: The United Features Syndicate bought his idea for a strip in
1950, and, over Schulz's objection, named it "Peanuts." It
made its debut on October 2 of that year. Since then, Schulz has worked
on his strip seven days a week, six weeks in advance. He draws every
frame and letters every bubble of dialogue, an uncommon practice today
when many cartoonists employ other writers and artists. Schulz says
he's a bit like all the "Peanuts" characters, but feels the
closest to Charlie Brown.
CHARLES SCHULZ: All of the characters are a little bit of me, but I
think Charlie Brown is the sort of nice little kid that I would have
liked to have had as a neighbor when I was small, because he and I like
the same things. And he's a decent kid. All he wants to do is to be
left alone and play ball and fly his kite, and things like that.
TERENCE SMITH: United Media will rerun old strips dating from 1974
at least through the end of 2000, but today the last original "Peanuts"
appeared. It is a thank-you note from Charles Schulz. He ends by saying
"Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy ... How can I ever forget them?"
On NBC's "Today" show this morning Mr. Schulz recalled how
he felt writing the last script.
CHARLES
SCHULZ: Right at the end I wrote my name and then it said -- and I'll
probably start crying -- it said well, that was Charlie Brown, Linus
and so-and-so and all of a sudden I thought, you know, that poor kid
never even got to hit the football. What a dirty trick. He never had
a chance to kick the football.
|
|
TERENCE
SMITH: For more, I'm joined by two cartoonist friends of Charles Schulz.
Wiley Miller is creator of the syndicated comic strip "Non Sequitur,"
which is published in more than 400 newspapers in 20 countries; and Jan
Eliot is creator of "Stone Soup," which appears in more than
100 newspapers. Also with us is Robert Thompson, director of the Center
for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University. Welcome to
all three of you.
Wiley Miller, what makes "Peanuts" so special?
WILEY
MILLER: It's something that supersedes mere fame. There are lots of
famous people and famous entities, but he supersedes all that. "Peanuts"
became part of Americana, much in the same way as, say, Norman Rockwell
or Mark Twain. And to achieve something like that in your own lifetime
is remarkable in itself. That's usually something that takes place long
after you're dead. But it's so ingrained in our culture that it is very
much a part of our culture.
TERENCE SMITH: Mm-hmm. Jan Eliot, if that's the case, why? What's the
key here?
JAN
ELIOT: I think the key is that Charlie Brown is a simple, unaffected
person. He's not a superstar. He's not a rock star. He's not a sports
star. He's just a regular little boy who kind of reflects the regular
everyday person in all of us, and we relate to him.
TERENCE SMITH: Robert Thompson, the Washington Post in an editorial
said "'Peanuts' is cute without being cloying, genuinely funny
with an edge that does not cut." Do you think that's the key?
ROBERT
THOMPSON: Well, you know, with all of this Norman Rockwellesque feel
that "Peanuts" has, I think we have to recognize that sometimes
that edge did cut. It just did it in this very kind and gentle sort
of way. You know, Charlie Brown, this guy -- it starts in 1950, and
the strip was so far ahead of its time. Charlie could have been a poster
boy for Prozac long before anybody had ever heard of the kinds of things
that you needed to take Prozac for, much less was the drug invented.
Here's this guy, before all of the ADD and Prozac, and all of these
kinds of things, who is simply trying to get through life as a child.
And, you know, in a lot of ways, he's got a little bit of Samuel Beckett
to him. He waits for the Great Pumpkin, and the Great Pumpkin never
comes. He's got Sisyphus to him. He tries to hit that football every
single time, and he's never allowed to, in fact, make contact with it.
There's a real sense in which we're seeing some very serious issues
of
childhood long before we really began to identify them. I think the
real apotheosis of all of what Charles Schulz did was the 1965 Christmas
special. It's won a passel of awards. And this is 1965, and we're hearing
dialogue like Charlie saying, "You know, I'm really depressed.
I don't know why. It's Christmastime. I ought to be feeling better about
myself. I just don't feel right." If this doesn't sound like something
right out of a therapy session in the late 1990s, I don't know what
does. And he's doing this on national television in the 1960s.
There was a continuity to what Charles Schulz did throughout the postwar
era that went on in a geologic pace, but a real sense in which he's
kind of the glue that ties together some ... society was changing a
lot faster than that strip was.
|
 |
|
TERENCE SMITH: Wiley Miller, that sounds like really adult angst coming
out of the mouths of children.
WILEY
MILLER: Well, yes, Charles Schulz said on many occasions that he has
never written for children. It's not a children's strip. He is writing
for adults, and he uses this juxtaposition of adults' angst through
the eyes of children. And that's what made it work. That's what made
it resonate, and that's what made it so deliciously subversive back
in the '50s and early '60s.
TERENCE SMITH: Right. Jan Eliot, you know Charlie Schulz.
JAN ELIOT: I do.
TERENCE SMITH: Is he Charlie Brown?
JAN
ELIOT: I think he's very much Charlie Brown, and I think he has said
that. He is a sweet, kind, decent person, and he has often described
Charlie Brown as a very decent person. He's a little bit anxious, a
little bit depressed, and he's just a regular guy who wanted all his
life to be a cartoonist, and he got his dream -- unlike Charlie Brown,
who never has gotten the football, or the little red-haired girl. But
he's very much Charlie Brown.
TERENCE SMITH: Robert Thompson, many characters, of course, have come
into our culture through "Peanuts," even notions -- Linus
and his security blanket. That was ahead of its time as well.
ROBERT
THOMPSON: Absolutely. This was a pantheon of characters that we really
used to define the national character and the various representations
that that character took in individuals. Short of Disney, I can think
of no other group of characters that sort of acted as the American popular
culture icon.
It's interesting to compare it to, I think, the next generation. Bart
Simpson is in many ways a lot like Charlie Brown, but in the age of
entitlement. Charlie Brown was an underachiever and depressed about
it. Bart Simpson, of course, is an underachiever and proud of it. It's
a whole different attitude that one sees as we got to the later part
of the century. But in many ways, those two characters are exploring
some of the same real estate.
TERENCE SMITH: Wiley Miller, the script, of course -- the strip was
only part of it. He was this immensely creative man. He is this immensely
creative man who burgeoned out into all these other media. Have you
seen anything like it in the cartooning business?
WILEY
MILLER: Oh, no. Well, long before Charles Schulz, there was always licensing
and all that in comics. I think he just took it to a new level. But
what made him unique in this is that he remained true to the art itself.
First and foremost came the comic strip. All the other stuff -- all
the, you know, the television shows, the books, the licensing, plush
toys -- all that stuff, that was all secondary to him. What was always
number one was that comic strip, and doing that comic strip day in and
day out without any assistance on it.
|
 |
|
TERENCE SMITH: Jan Eliot, you knew him. Was he -- you know him now.
Was he to you, when you first met, an encouraging person to a younger
cartoonist?
JAN
ELIOT: He was actually extremely encouraging. I first met him at the
50th Annual National Cartoonist Society Reuben Awards in 1995, and he
didn't know me at all. Lynn Johnston introduced him to me. He was standing
there with a cup of coffee and a Danish, shaking a little bit, looking
for a place to sit. It was a rather awkward meeting. It was fairly unsatisfying.
But after I got home from that weekend, I sent him a note thanking
him for taking time with me, and he, within just a couple of days, called
me at my studio, and had my work in front of him, and gave me compliments
and gave me suggestions, and asked me for my opinion about what he was
doing. I was extremely flattered and extremely surprised, and it was
amazing from someone of his stature to get a phone call like that so
early in my career.
I think the most impressive thing that happened to me, though, was
about a year later when I was in Santa Rosa at one of his ice shows.
And he and I were sitting together the morning after the ice show at
breakfast. He has a cartoonist party every year at the ice show, and
we were all having breakfast together. And he chose to sit next to me
out of all the people there, and asked me how it was going. I expressed
to him that I had some concern at the number of papers I had, and that
it seemed to have plateaued, and though my syndicate had done a great
job of getting me started, I was worried about where the strip was going.
He said that for the first five years of "Peanuts," he was
stuck at 45 papers, and he was quite frustrated. But in the beginning
of "Peanuts," Snoopy was just a little dog off to the side,
a pet, not really a contributing character. And at about the five-year
mark, Sparky thought to have Snoopy stand up and have a thought. And
he looked at me at breakfast and he said, "You know, the strip
really didn't take off until Snoopy stood up."
TERENCE SMITH: Became a person, in effect?
JAN
ELIOT: Yes, yes. And then he said, "You need to find the thing
in your strip that's like having Snoopy stand up." And I expressed
some reservation and hope and mumbled. And he said, "You can do
it, Jan. I believe in you." And I was floored, because he didn't
really know me very well, and yet he was willing to say he thought I
could do it. To this day, I have a sign in my studio that says, "Quit
whining. Make Snoopy stand up." And that's my hope.
TERENCE SMITH: Robert Thompson, in effect, "Peanuts" is one
long, unending story line in which not a great deal really happens.
I mean, is that part of the magic?
ROBERT
THOMPSON: It sure is. You know, I think in all the talking about the
ending of this strip, we sometimes forget that this is arguably the
longest story told by a single artist in human history. You know, sometimes
the Wagnerian opera seems likes it goes forever, but it doesn't, it
stops -- the same with a Dickens or a Tolstoy novel. There are some
soap operas that have gone longer. The "Guiding Light" has
been going for 62 years. But I don't know of any other story that has
been told by one human being for 50 entire years, and it ended today,
and that really is a milestone. It's not just a 50-year-long story.
It's a story that took its time. It's a whole different way of telling
a story. And it's, I think, one of the things we're going to always
remember that was nice about the 20th century.
TERENCE SMITH: Wiley Miller, imagine drawing a strip seven days a week
for 50 years, and doing it all yourself. I mean, for you, that must
be an exhausting thought, I would think.
WILEY
MILLER: Well, that's why we don't think about it. He really showed the
way on that. In the part of the preview here, he talked about this being
unusual for a cartoonist doing this without any assistance. Actually,
that's incorrect. It's unusual for a cartoonist to have assistance producing
the comic strip. And Charles Schulz pretty much led the way on that.
In the older days, you did have these adventure strips and story lines
where these cartoonists did have a staff of people helping with the
writing and art, because it was a much grander scale back then. We don't
have that today. We all pretty much work on our own. There's only a
handful of cartoonists who do have a staff. But we all do it ourselves,
and so we can relate when we think of doing it for 50 years as "Gee,
that's a long time."
TERENCE SMITH: Finally, Jan Eliot, will cartooning be different without
Charles Schulz?
JAN
ELIOT: Oh, I think cartooning is different because of Charles Schulz.
He has given us all new insights into where we can take it and how we
can do it, and he's made a real mark on the field of cartooning that
all of us can only hope to improve upon.
TERENCE SMITH: OK. Thank you all three very much.
|
 |