Let Your Funnybook Freak-Flag Fly: Panelological Pantheon!

Jim turned me onto the most flat-out fascinating blog I've seen in ages... Panelological Pantheon.


Hosted by Mason Moray, a 60-something veteran comic-book enthusiast, or "panelologist," as he prefers to be called, PP offers a choice array of exotic, rather freakish stories from the pioneer days of funnybooks.

In the mix are Moray's day-to-day musings on life, collecting, and, most recently, a stark story of a personal tragedy.

After reading his first few posts, I was suspicious. It's hard to believe this is for real. I dropped Mr. Moray a quick e-mail. Here's his reply, in full.

Mr. Young,

I deeply appreciate your critique and welcome reactions to my humble "blog." Surely, such a forum will be easily misunderstood by most. It is encouraging to hear that you "get it."

Re your comments on my home life: thank you for your concern. But you need not worry. Dorrie and I get along like "gang-busters." I, too, rue the whims of fate that have allied me with a partner who is otherwise perfect--save for her crucial flaw of not appreciating panelology.

The Pantheon itself is in fine condition. Your concern for my holdings is quite kind. I take a moment to "inspect the troops" several times a week. And, unbeknownst to Dorrie, there are a few choice boxes that come in the house for winter's duration. They are marked "TAX RECORDS," the better to pass muster.

Your story request is intriguing. After dinner tonight I'll get the flashlight and see what I can find for you in The Pantheon's stacks. Until then, take care, and again, many thanks for your kind words of understanding.

Cordially,
Mason J. Moray

He sent his photograph as an e-mail attachment. I don't know many people who would do that, in response to a routine e-mail.

In a word: wow. This guy is a keeper.

His most recent post features an amazingly crude, nightmarish horror-detective story, "The Madhouse Murder Mystery," written and drawn by an early crackpot comix auteur, E. F. Webster. I've never seen such sinister, whacked-out cartooning in my life. Check out the story's first page and you'll see what I'm talking about.

Get your mind blown--go to Mr. Moray's sight and read the rest!

Jim Tyer comix, from Little Roquefort 3, 1952

There is no mistaking--or overlooking--the cartoon artistry of Jim Tyer. Tyer labored in the animation industry for at least 40-45 years. He worked for the New York studios--Van Beuren, Famous and Paul Terry--mostly on sub-standard cartoons (especially so with the Terry product).

In the early 1940s, Tyer contributed some dynamite, hallucinatory direction and animation for various Famous Studios Popeye cartoons. The old guard at Famous (once Max Fleischer's studio) didn't get Tyer's anarchic, hopped-up approach to animation.

Though he animated on some of the late black-and-white Popeyes (all available on legal DVD) and some of the early color entries, he was ostracized from Famous Studios by 1948.

It was not in Tyer's bones to conform to a house style. He certainly tried. But the verve of his drawing style, and the peculiarity of his animation, were too strong for him to stay on-model. At a more pragmatic studio like Famous, staying on-model was the name of the game.

Thus, Tyer was a misfit. He could not have functioned at the West Coast studios. Animators such as Rod Scribner and Emery Hawkins could push the envelope in their work for Warner Brothers (and, in Hawkins' case, Walts Lantz and Disney), but they had a sense of when to let their freak-flag fly, and when to take it down from the pole.

Tyer let several freak-flags, all in clashing colors, flap madly in the breeze. Were it not for the refreshing interludes of his wild animation, all Terrytoons of the 1950s would be landfill. (There--I've said it!) [TM]

Terry's studio had talented animators--Bill Tytla, Carlo Vinci, John Gentilella, to name three--but the end-results of Terrytoons was usually depressing.

Except when Tyer's scenes come on-screen. Tyer gives the middle finger to every rule of Disney-style animation. Were his drawing style not so appealing--he's like a spikier, more manic Dr. Seuss--Tyer would never have gotten away with his brazen rejection of modern animation technique.

Ironically, Tyer was among the only "old guard" of Terry to adapt to the cartoon modern style of the Space Age. He single-handedly animated the remarkable Ernest Pintoff-written Flebus, which was nominated for an Academy Award. His highly angular style lent itself well to the moderne makeover. (H E R E is a link to Flebus, among the greatest cartoons of the post-war era.)

An intensely private man, Tyer guarded his animation techniques from his colleagues. Other Terry animators pathetically attempted to emulate his style. It proved inimitable. And, because there was no quality control at the Terry studios, Tyer's rampant eccentricity was tolerated.

Like other Terrytoonists, Tyer sought extra $$$ by drawing stories for the licensed Terry-themed comic books. In the early 1950s, Tyer's work is all over the St. John-published Terrytoon titles.

Tyer never signed his work, but his stylistic autograph covers his comix pages. Sure, the stories are usually sub-par. Today's offering has, sadly, the narrative equivalent of rickets. It demonstrates Tyer's great appeal as a vibrant, impressive cartoonist.

On the printed page, Tyer could not summon the freaky excesses he committed on-screen. He had to keep his feet on the ground, and go for strong cartooning. Thus, his comix work is among the best funny-animal art in the genre.

Here is a typically forlorn story from a typically forlorn issue of Little Roquefort. Each and every panel is a joy to peruse, for Tyer's dynamic cartoon art. The narrative content is as casual as any animated Terrytoon--that is to say, there's not much in evidence.