For the new Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures, Ltd. motion picture—as per the official British credit—a number of books and paper novelties were marketed in 1939 and 1940, based directly on Metro’s movie. As a book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was little known in Great Britain. Prior to the English release of the picture there had been two printings of the L. Frank Baum story, the last in 1925, in keeping with interest generated by the Larry Semon silent picture released that year. Unlike the American merchandise, all the English Wizard of Oz products made extensive use of the film imagery.
British publisher Hutchinson & Company issued two differently packaged full-length editions of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, as well as several abridged editions and a “colouring” book—all prominently featuring Judy Garland et al. A cutout book of paper dolls styled after the movie’s cast was another Hutchinson offering. In addition, premium cards of movie characters and scenes from the film were inserted into packages of Barrett & Company’s candy cigarettes; Castell Bros., Ltd. produced a card game that told the story of the film in full color; and Williams, Ellis & Company, Ltd. issued four boxed jigsaw puzzles. English printings of all the sheet music to The Wizard of Oz’s songs were sold by Francis Day & Hunter, Ltd.
Most UK reviews praised the film but said the Wicked Witch was too terrifying for children. A succession of British rereleases in 1945, 1955, and 1964 (on a double bill with Tom Thumb) revived interest in the picture, and it gained in popularity and familiarity in Great Britain.
British publisher Hutchinson & Co. issued a line of Wizard of Oz photoplay books in late 1939, which were advertised with a 28x30–inch hardboard merchant sign.
The front cover of the British exhibitor’s campaign book for the 1940 engagement of The Wizard of Oz in England.
LEFT: Concurrent with the 1940 debut of The Wizard of Oz in Portugal, a lavish photoplay edition of the Frank Baum book was published in Lisbon. The book was reprinted in 1946 when the movie was reissued. RIGHT: Hungary saw the debut of Oz a Csodák Csodája in spring 1940, as featured on the cover of magazines like Radioelet, a radio guide.
French sheet music cover for “Over the Rainbow,” 1939.
ELSEWHERE AROUND THE WORLD
THE WIZARD OF OZ continued playing in those countries not yet directly impacted by World War II. In Holland, De Grote Toovenaar van Oz opened in Amsterdam in March 1940. In April, Hungary welcomed Oz a Csodák Csodája, while in Portugal it was O Feiticeiro de Oz.
No matter where it was screened, it seemed, The Wizard of Oz proved to be appealing entertainment and a lighthearted diversion from war worries. On March 28, 1940, the movie review editor for the Kingston, Jamaica, Daily Gleaner attested to the film’s “rare beauty,” citing it as one of the screen’s greatest triumphs for all ages, noting, “Personally, I saw the picture sitting alongside a party of four sailors off the warship—who enjoyed the fun of the film in typical naval fashion.”
In many key markets, the onset of World War II in September 1939 curtailed much of the foreign potential for The Wizard of Oz to recoup its expenses and generate merchandise revenue. The Wizard of Oz was one of seven American motion pictures scheduled to debut at the first Cannes Film Festival starting September 1, 1939, but the event was canceled due to war threats. The film was also advertised as forthcoming in France and Belgium, but was delayed until June 1946. The war further postponed the opening of The Wizard of Oz in Finland (1943), Austria and Spain (1945), Italy (1948), and Germany (1951).
The most prolonged of all theatrical delays for The Wizard of Oz occurred in Japan—the picture did not surface there until late 1954. At the time, it was warmly recalled by Private First Class Robert D. Sweeney, writing for Pacific Stars & Stripes, the military newspaper of the US Department of Defense. In his “On the Town” column for December 30, 1954, Sweeney was nostalgic for the picture’s revival at Tokyo’s Piccadilly Theatre: “[T]he film is as gay and as good now as it was when we first saw it fifteen years ago.”
In the years succeeding its initial release, The Wizard of Oz was prevented by prevailing global circumstances from reaching the cinemas of the world. But its magical stronghold would resurface with international influence in the decades to follow such that “Oz” would become an instantly recognizable word, synonymous with Dorothy and her friends, no matter the native language of the land.
Le Magicien d’Oz was advertised in Belgium in 1946.
In 1943, The Wizard of Oz played in Finland, heralded by the poster shown here.
The original art for a Spanish advertisement is a collage of still photos, hand-lettering, and decorative accents, 1945.
Japan received a first-run release of The Wizard of Oz later than most other countries. A full-page advertisement for the movie appeared in the February 1955 issue of Japan’s Screen magazine.
Fotobustas advertised Italy’s initial engagements of The Wizard of Oz (two samples are presented here).
RARE OUTTAKES FROM OZ
BECAUSE TECHNICOLOR PHOTOGRAPHY had not yet been perfected in 1938, every camera setup on The Wizard of Oz required testing to check the appropriateness of the lighting and to ensure that the set, wardrobe, and makeup hues translated to film properly. After each scene, several feet of extra footage was shot during which a technician holding a color-correct chart (called a Lilly) would step in momentarily. If on the developed film the white portion of the Lilly remained white, the color footage was acceptable. After use, these lengths of film were cut into strips of three frames each and distributed to the crew as souvenirs. These off-guard moments often show various studio personnel while cast members pause for the break.
MERVYN LEROY
THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN
“MERVYN ALWAYS HAD THE VISION.”
–MEREDYTHE GLASS, COUSIN TO LEROY
IN GUIDING THE Wizard of Oz from conception through completion, Mervyn LeRoy was more than ably assisted by myriad creative talent and a superlative cast and crew—all of whom he thanked publicly in full-page trade ads in Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety: “My sincere thanks and deep appreciation to all the wizards who made The Wizard of Oz a reality.” But to the motion picture industry at large, the film was LeRoy’s baby.
If his gamble on The Wizard of Oz was ever questioned, LeRoy was exonerated once the picture premiered. The New York Sunday Mirror announced, “Young and old will relish The Wizard of Oz and applaud producer Mervyn LeRoy’s courage for having made it so spectacularly.” Screenland magazine declared LeRoy “Public Benefactor No. 1” and Daily Variety dubbed him “The Wizard of Hollywood.” Oakland Tribune film critic Wood Soanes opined, “Mervyn LeRoy can now take his place with Walt Disney for excellence in the production of fantasy . . .” And in his West Coast show biz column, “Town Called Hollywood,” Philip K. Scheurer wrote, “Nobody was more surprised than Hollywood—collective, Hydra-headed Hollywood—when ‘LeRoy’s Folly’ turned out to be fantasy of the year. By ‘LeRoy’ Hollywood meant Mervyn LeRoy, the smart little producer who went over to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer from Warner Bros., and by ‘folly,’ the $3,000,000, more or less, that he persuaded his backers to sink into an old fairy tale by L. Frank Baum called The Wizard of Oz.” Even director Victor Fleming knew that the film was LeRoy’s pet project. When the film was being edited, he posted a letter on May 31, 1939, to the Screen Directors’ Guild waiving his right to the last title card of the picture’s opening credits, transferring such right to LeRoy (although the adjustment went unimplemented).
But perhaps the review that paid the most fitting tribute to LeRoy’s labor of love came from Walt Disney. On August 23, 1939, Disney wrote to LeRoy:
Mrs. Disney and I saw The Wizard of Oz the other night and we both liked it very much. The sets were swell, the color was perfect for the story, and the makeups far exceeded anything I thought possible. Knowing the difficulty that we have with cartoons, a medium that is limited only to the imagination, I can fully realize how tough a production of this type would be in the live-action medium. All in all, I t
hink you turned out a fine picture and you have my congratulations.
LeRoy responded to Disney immediately and with venerable idolatry: “It is needless for me to tell you how proud I am to know that you liked The Wizard. . . .” And while LeRoy reveled in Disney’s admiration—that November he would recommend Walt for president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences—he was concurrently, and most assuredly, hoping to duplicate Disney’s success in the merchandise marketplace to follow.
MAGICAL MERCHANDISE
“MOST OF THE CAST OF THE LAND OF OZ [SIC] ARE ON SALE—DOROTHY, THE TIN MAN, THE SCARECROW, THE COWARDLY LION, GLINDA THE GOOD, AND NIKKO, THE GENERAL OF THE WICKED WITCH’S WINGED MONKEYS.”
–EL PASO (TEXAS) HERALD POST, 1939
METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER WAS TOPS in publicizing its four-star and “B” pictures but was inexperienced when it came to merchandising them. Despite the talents of cast and crew, Mervyn LeRoy was under pressure from the front office of Loew’s Incorporated, M-G-M’s parent company: not only did Loew’s Incorporated want The Wizard of Oz to be a cinematic success, it also wanted the film to generate revenue via character merchandising. The characters from The Wizard of Oz were so beloved that it made sense that M-G-M would want to explore their merchandising possibilities. More and more films were being created with merchandising packages and licensing possibilities built in. Paramount, for example, announced that it would release a full-length animated feature every year, replete with licensing arrangements, just as it was preparing for its cartoon version of Gulliver’s Travels. And Disney’s Pinocchio was set for a Christmas 1939 premiere, simultaneously with a complete merchandising package.
Once principal photography on The Wizard of Oz wrapped in February 1939, save for postproduction and retakes, LeRoy turned his attention to marketing his movie characters, and went straight to the best for outside expertise: Walt Disney. Like any self-made mogul, Disney was fiercely protective of his brand, yet he didn’t see The Wizard of Oz as a threat to his domain, in equal parts perhaps because the film was live-action and because he and LeRoy had a genuine rapport. In an affable gesture, Disney put LeRoy in touch with Herman “Kay” Kamen, but, shrewdly, not without his legal oversight. Kamen had achieved remarkable success leading Disney’s character merchandise division throughout the 1930s. (Kamen wasn’t a Disney employee but an independent contractor free to pursue outside business ventures, provided there was no conflict of interest with his primary work for Disney.) Concurrently, LeRoy sought to finesse licensing arrangements with Maud Baum, who served as an unofficial consultant to the picture.
The American Colortype Company produced a series of twelve die-cut greeting cards, just in time for Valentine’s Day 1940, with illustrations inspired by production stills from the film.
By August 1939, the press projected, “This Xmas the kiddies will be asking for characters from The Wizard of Oz instead of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” By late November, the Newspaper Enterprise Association syndicated a gift-giving feature that pictured the Land of Oz soap figures; and newspapers noted the film’s characters among the holiday season’s dolls. For Christmas 1939, W. L. Stensgaard & Associates, a firm specializing in store display materials, had designed an extensive Wizard of Oz retail promotion and display plan for department, toy, and hardware stores. In truth, the initial merchandising push behind The Wizard of Oz was minor, compared to the product lines being set up by Paramount and Disney. For Christmas 1939, both Pinocchio and Gulliver’s Travels had about one hundred licensed accounts each; all told, The Wizard of Oz had roughly two dozen—which accounts for the present-day rarity (and desirability by collectors) of the film’s original novelties.
Philadelphia’s Dartboard Equipment Company (also known as DECO) issued its dart game in time for Christmas 1939 in a limited issue of one thousand sets. The instructions recommended several games that could be enjoyed by players using the playing board as a Land of Oz map. The set originally sold for $1.00.
Swift & Company signed on as a Loew’s licensee in 1940 and, that September, debuted its Oz-The Wonderful Peanut Spread, packaged in two different-sized glass jars and tin containers (a sample tin is pictured here).
Einson-Freeman Co., publishers of puzzles, prints, and games, issued a set of paper masks accompanied by a flyer for suggested uses.
Prolific illustrator Henry E. Vallely produced full-page line drawings for Whitman’s The Wizard of Oz Paint Book, which were then edited for The Story of “The Wizard of Oz.” The covers were patterned after M-G-M poses (shown below).
Little girls could emulate Judy Garland with John C. Wellwood’s hairbows.
Four-inch unlicensed miniatures of The Wizard of Oz cast included the Tin Man. The figurines were issued by the Artisans Studio, Nashua, New Hampshire, circa 1939.
Maud Baum, widow of the original book’s author, was an uncredited consultant to The Wizard of Oz. Here, she poses with the new edition of The Wizard of Oz in a 1939 clipping. • Bobbs-Merrill published a special photoplay edition of the L. Frank Baum book in a new dust jacket and reduced price. The book became a bestseller. In 1940 it cost twenty cents more and was still advertised as “used in movie.”
“OVER THE RAINBOW”
“AS FOR MY FEELINGS TOWARD ‘OVER THE RAINBOW,’ IT’S BECOME PART OF MY LIFE. IT IS SO SYMBOLIC OF ALL DREAMS AND WISHES THAT I’M SURE THAT’S WHY PEOPLE SOMETIMES GET TEARS IN THEIR EYES WHEN THEY HEAR IT.”
–JUDY GARLAND IN A LETTER TO HAROLD ARLEN
THE HAROLD ARLEN and E. Y. Harburg score for The Wizard of Oz met with immediate success. “Over the Rainbow” became a top-selling song sheet, and separate versions recorded by Judy Garland or Glenn Miller and his Orchestra (backed with “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead”) were selling in record stores—at 35 cents each—by late August 1939. Other artists soon followed with their renditions of the movie songs, released on various labels. “Be the first to play the hit records from the motion picture The Wizard of Oz . . . In a few weeks everybody will be singing them . . . but you’ll be the first to ‘spring’ them on the crowd,” read the ads. Come September, Decca Records had collected the melodies sung by Garland and the Ken Darby Singers, accompanied by the Victor Young Orchestra, in a four-disc set packaged to sell for $1.90.
On September 26, 1939, Garland became a regular on radio’s The Pepsodent Show Starring Bob Hope, at which time she sang “Over the Rainbow” just as the song was hitting its stride in popularity. Garland understood the charge of putting over the new tune. Music Makers magazine reported: “Although she [Garland] is naturally gay and fun-loving during broadcast rehearsals, she is extremely serious, devoting all her attention to her songs . . . She realizes her responsibility in introducing a new number to the public, for the way in which she interprets it may mean the difference between success and failure for the song.”
The public clearly took a liking to Garland’s interpretation, and by December 1939 the sheet music for “Over the Rainbow” had sold almost half a million copies. Harry Link, of Leo Feist, Inc., publishers of M-G-M sheet music, advised Metro’s music department head, Nat Finston, “We are contemplating getting out a folio comprised of all the songs in The Wizard of Oz . . . the front cover of which will be more or less on the same order as the Decca Records album with the pictures on the front cover.” The official songbook, issued as a “souvenir album” for 50 cents, was profusely illustrated with production stills throughout, and, in one format or another, has remained in print to this day.
In one amusing anecdote, the popularity of “Over the Rainbow” wasn’t enough to grant its composer Harold Arlen, full star immunity. In early 1940, Arlen was stopped for running a traffic light. When the officer asked his profession, Arlen replied that he was a song composer. “Oh, yeah,” said the incredulous cop, “I suppose you wrote ‘Over the Rainbow,’ too!” Arlen snapped that, in fact, he had—but he still got a ticket.
Even though “Over the Rainbow” was recorded by other vocalists, it became an undeniable
signature theme for Judy Garland, particularly during the war years, when the song’s yearning became synonymous with that of countless families with loved ones overseas. During her first tour entertaining army camps in 1942, Garland noticed that the servicemen wanted to hear “Rainbow” over any others. In 1942, “Over the Rainbow,” sung by Garland in The Wizard of Oz, was ranked the all-time best motion picture number by Barry Wood, host of radio’s Your Hit Parade, the nation’s favorite song barometer.
Judy Garland’s “Over the Rainbow” served to comfort the troops during the war, but the soothing properties of her singing the song can be traced back to December 1939. Columnist Harrison Carroll related that Garland made a mercy mission to St. Joseph’s Hospital at Anaheim to comfort Natalie Norris, a child who, when lucid, spoke about being Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz—the last picture she had seen before being stricken by illness. Natalie was alleged to have instantly recognized Garland, exclaiming, “My goodness, where is Toto?” After making gifts of dolls and books, Garland sang “Over the Rainbow” before departing; afterward it was reported that “the youngster has shown definite improvement since the visit.”
The Wizard of Oz: The Official 75th Anniversary Companion Page 10