Ric Scozzari, the sculptor who supervised the resoration of the beloved Rocky and Bullwinkle statue on Sunset Blvd. sent in these photos (below) and recollections:

I worked exclusively for Tiffany Ward (his daughter) and Ramona Ward (Jay’s wife). I was the carpenter, sculptor, coordinator, engineer, plasterer, painter, draftsman/artist for both the statue and the final restoration of the store (before it closed, and was renovated, yet again, by a new tenant). I have a before (above) and after (below) of Jay Ward’s, “Animation Dream Machine” mural that I totally redid myself (after 50 years of oxidation,..that might be interesting for your readers to see also).

I was the “total package” for Tiffany regarding the construction and consultation and she loved having a “one stop shop” guy look out for her and her families precious 2-dimensional jewels.

The Bullwinkle and Rocky statue was originally done in steel and fiberglass (back in the late 1950’s),..then years later, someone thought to cover it in “paper mache” (wrong!… on so many levels) I stripped that off, wrapped Bullwinkle and Rocky in surgical plaster bandages and then put a slurry of outdoor industrial plaster for a final coat,..just like the old days in Coney Island figures on the boardwalk. Then I primed and painted with industrial paint with a high UV content (’cause of all that California weather, non fading). Now they are ready for their close-up after getting really, really plastered! Hoky Smoke!

Anyone know who designed the original Animation Dream Machine mural (above)? Bill Hurtz? Click on images below for a closer look.

Our recent posts about Stop, Look and Listen reminded Brew reader Kermyt Anderson of another pixilation film he saw a few years ago about witches, using the same technique. He wrote to me asking about it, but I’d never heard of it myself. Coincidentally Kermyt just found it on You Tube (below) and I found it on No Fat Clips. It’s titled Gisele Kerozene, by Jan Kounen. It won the Grand Prix du Court-Métrage at the Avoriaz (France) Fantastic Film Festival in 1989.

Looks like Kounen and crew had just as much fun as Menville and Janson did while making their film.

Steve Hulett, over on the daily must-read The Animation Guild blog, lists all the known union projects currently in production in L.A. — including a few Disney items I’d never heard of (Joe Jump? King of the Elves?).

Most intriguing project: Batman Anime (Gotham Knight?) at Warner Bros. Scariest titles mentioned: Tinkerbell 2 and 3(!) from Disneytoon Studios.

Are you ready to put this in your “Bikini Bottom”?

I was shopping at the supermarket yesterday when I came upon a unique piece of Nickelodeon merchandising - a Spongebob Squarepants Musical Rectal Thermometer! Yes, it’s musical. And yes, it’s clearly marked for rectal use. It actually plays the Spongebob theme in your ass when your temperature is taken!

Spongebob is a huge success, and merchandise like this literally sticks it to the competition. But this product ranks with the infamous Mickey Mouse vibrator as one of the most miscast in cartoon licensing history! What were they thinking? Spongebob has enough trouble regarding his sexual identity. Ren & Stimpy may have been a better choice here… but Spongebob? Nah!

“It’s like a children’s show, but in Bosnia!” -Patton Oswalt

“Highly Recommended!” and “Best pick of the week!” - Time Out NY

One more quick little plug for our Cartoon Dump live comedy show tonight in New York City. Join Frank Conniff and Erica Doering at 8pm at Comix at 353 West 14th Street. Ordering advance tickets (before 2pm) is a few bucks cheaper than buying them at the door.

The Brothers McLeod have recently completed a series of shorts called Pedro and Frankensheep for Children’s BBC (CBBC) in the United Kingdom. It starts airing on UK TV everyday begining next week (for the next two weeks at 4:30pm). Ten 5-minute episodes were produced, co-written by the brothers with Phil Cooper. Characters were designed by Greg McLeod in his distinctive style and voices were supplied by Simon Greenall and Myles McLeod (the latter as the voice of Frank and Hugo). Here’s the first one, given an “online pre-release” to generate buzz:

Start buzzing.

The new Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim’s “Sunday in the Park with George”, which has been brought over from London, is notable in that it’s directed by former animator Sam Buntrock, who has incorporated video-projected digital animation into the play. Brew friend C. Edwards, who saw the play recently, says, “The original production in 1983 is good, but the video effects improve on the whole show, especially the second act. It’s the first time I’ve seen video projection used in a Broadway stage production that didn’t look cheap (like in the Johnny Cash musical, “Ring of Fire”). And it was nice to see someone integrate animation in with live performers in a stage musical.” A piece in last weekend’s New York Times offers comments from Buntrock and Sondheim about the production.

Cultural critic Terry Teachout wrote a thought-provoking piece in last weekend’s Wall Street Journal about how artists with extraordinary promise like Leonard Bernstein, Orson Welles and Ralph Ellison failed to live up to their potential because of the dreaded “importantitis.” Who in the animation world has suffered from the same ailment? The most notable example who comes to mind would be Richard Williams. Teachout contrasts these artists with choreographer George Balanchine:

Contrast Ellison’s creative paralysis with the lifelong fecundity of the great choreographer George Balanchine, who went about his business efficiently and unpretentiously, turning out a ballet or two every season. Most were brilliant, a few were duds, but no matter what the one he’d just finished was like, and no matter what the critics thought of it, he moved on to the next one with the utmost dispatch, never looking back. “In making ballets, you cannot sit and wait for the Muse,” he said. “Union time hardly allows it, anyhow. You must be able to be inventive at any time.” That was the way Balanchine saw himself: as an artistic craftsman whose job was to make ballets. Yet the 20th century never saw a more important artist, or one less prone to importantitis.

In the animation world, the likely parallel to Balanchine would be directors like Tex Avery, Friz Freleng and Chuck Jones, who produced animated shorts year in and year out, practicing their craft consistently and rarely ever looking back, and ultimately ending up with some of the most beloved classics in the history of the art form.