Ghosts of Christmas movie ads past

Author

By Scott Marks

Publish Date

Dec. 16, 2014

"You know what my Uncle Roy says Jews do on Christmas?" my ten-year-old, pillow-headed, goyisha-kop friend, Timmy Murphy asked.

Instead of, "What we don't do is sit alone in our basements like Roy, drinking ourselves to oblivion," I played along with a simple, "What?"

"You stay home and count your money!"

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Unc's assumption couldn't have further from the truth. Jews do their annual wealth tally over Easter break. (For most of us, one day simply will not do.) Christmas is reserved for Chinese food and movies.

Many a Christmas morn has been spent rifling through the movie pages in search of something to do while the gentiles are in Church. My maiden viewing of Raging Bull took place on Christmas Day, 1980 in a lily

white suburban theatre on the outskirts of Chicago. (There couldn't have been more than 15 fellow parishioners in attendance.) Fifteen minutes prior to showtime and there wasn't an empty seat in the house when The Godfather: Part III held its Christmas Day premier at the Old Orchard Theatre in the predominantly Jewish suburb of Skokie, Illinois.

Remember those image-heavy posts that used to regularly occupy this space? They're back! I've been stocking up on holiday images throughout the year in hopes that Santa would place a photo gallery and pop-out lightbox under The Big Screen's Christmas tree. My name must have made this year's "nice" list! Time to take it out of the box and see if it works.

Kate Hepburn was known to act as a beard for many male entertainers (Cary Grant, George Cukor, Spencer Tracy). Here she dons one of her own to promote Little Women. The Film Daily, December 9, 1933.
Bill Cosby, in merrier times. The Chicago Tribune," Christmas Day, 1971.

A double-page spread announcing two Disney holiday staples and a new season of Technicolor Silly Symphonies. "The Film Daily," December 9, 1932.

Bring the family? "The Chicago Tribune," Christmas Day, 1973.

Peace and good will for all...except maybe that poor, sexually tormented Prof. Unrat. The Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1950.

I can picture Christmas without it. "The Owosso Argus-Press," Christmas Eve, 1966.

Fresh off the ruby heels of Dorothy's tour of Oz, comes the "Little People's Biggest Show" starring the Singer Midgets (aka Munchkins), eager to work for a hot meal and, hopefully, a bigger paycheck than Toto's. Ducks and Dix, too! The Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1940.

"Jerry in Japan – oh, man!" It's signed by the inimitable Frank Tashlin, but the maudlin, passive/aggressive nature of the relationship between man and boy is pure Jerry. "Motion Picture Daily," November 6, 1958.

There are two kinds of spurs, my friend. Those that come in by the door; those that come down the chimney. The Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1967.

Here's an ad encouraging suicidal Jews to bring a gun to their Temple.

Wire photo of Audrey Hepburn hanging out with Santa at a Greyhound Bus Terminal. December 21, 1953.

With this cast and title, one would expect a frothy yuletide musical comedy. Guess again. Robert Siodmak's elegant film noir finds Gene Kelly playing a psycho-kiiler who decides to bust out of prison and spend the holidays stalking his ex, Deanna Durbin. "Showmen's Trade Review," August, 1944.

Dino, Dolls, and other assorted dreck. Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1967.

Merry Multi-Projectors! Chicago Tribune, December 25, 1962.

My editor has repeatedly cautioned me against making any more pointless references to Bob Hope, but, hey, it's Christmas, ya' know? Besides, I feel compelled to warn readers who might still have a box of this dangerous, tangle-free tree-coating lurking in their attic, that woven into every silvery strand are thought transponders that trigger permanent symptoms of violent insanity. This effect is caused by many factors, including dissociative anonymity, invisibility, asynchronicity, solipsistic introjection, dissociative imagination, and prolonged exposure to The Private Navy of Sgt. O'Farrell.

Hey, kids! Wanna' spend Christmas Day, 1975 at the movi... never mind.

The 4 Lads from Liverpool (and Richard Lester!) wish you a Merry Christmas. "Chicago Tribune, December 18, 1964
For those who thought merchandising began with Star Wars, guess again. Not long after his debut in 1919, cartoon's earliest superstar, Felix the Cat, was the first character given their own line of merchandising. By the time this ad ran in the November 11, 1932 edition of Film Daily, Mickey had all but eclipsed Felix's fame leaving Uncle Walt no choice but to put out a line of Chinaware and rodent nylons.
Fans of '60's Saturday morning kid's TV programs will want to pay particular attention to this December 25, 1953 ad from The Chicago Tribune. In addition to stereoscopic wonders leaping from the screen, the opening stage acts featured puppeteer Sid Krofft who, along with brother Marty, struck it rich years later when hired by NBC to originate The Banana Splits and H.R. Pufnstuff.
For those who thought merchandising began with Star Wars, guess again. Not long after his debut in 1919, cartoon's earliest superstar, Felix the Cat, was the first character given their own line of merchandising. By the time this ad ran in the November 11, 1932 edition of Film Daily, Mickey had all but eclipsed Felix's fame leaving Uncle Walt no choice but to put out a line of Chinaware and rodent nylons.
Fans of '60's Saturday morning kid's TV programs will want to pay particular attention to this December 25, 1953 ad from The Chicago Tribune. In addition to stereoscopic wonders leaping from the screen, the opening stage acts featured puppeteer Sid Krofft who, along with brother Marty, struck it rich years later when hired by NBC to originate The Banana Splits and H.R. Pufnstuff.
Anyone using the term "huge and happy" in relation to Milton Berle had to be hip to the gag, right? Baby Rose-Marie, too! The Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1934.
God best ye merry gentlemen! The Chicago Tribune, December 25, 1975.
Santa the Red Nosed Curmudgeon as played by W.C. Fields. Fields had nothing slated for release in 1937, but that didn't stop Paramount from assigning him the task of playing in-house Santa to help spread the word out about their holiday campaign. Motion Picture Herald, November 11, 1937.
If given the choice of one Christmas to relive, set the Wayback Machine to December 25, 1933 and prepare to discover a holiday of laughter. Opening for Mae West, a Disney dye-transfer Technicolor Silly Symphony. The 3 Stooges, still under the wing of Ted Healy, shook their tootsies opposite Gable and Crawford in Dancing Lady. Dust for fingerprints: the Lubitsch Touch left an elegant set at the Oriental while the Marx Brothers at their most anarchic ran roughshod across the Chicago's giant 100-foot screen. For Scrooges out to put a scare into the kids, there's the most faithful, and fright-filled adaptation of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland featuring none other than W.C. Fields as Humpty Dumpty. Credit design magus William Cameron Menzies' for ministering the gnarled ambiance.
Dean Martin stars as "Dino," a Vegas headliner who needs anonymous sex to get a good night's sleep. After his car breaks down in Climax, Nevada, a local songwriter offers his wife's services in exchange for Dino recording one of his compositions. One of only two films ever to be banned by the Catholic Legion of Decency. The kids are bound to enjoy the Pink Panther cartoon more than this grossly undervalued Billy Wilder sex romp. The Chicago Tribune, Christmas Day, 1964.
Spend Christmas night locked in a car for 6 hours with Pam Grier. "The Lakeland Ledger," Christmas Day, 1976.