Mort Drucker in his studio, surrounded by his own work |
My gateway drug to MAD. |
Well, somewhere along the line, my mother must have broken down and purchased a MAD Super Special for me without my knowing it. (For the uninitiated, Super Specials were the double-thick issues containing reruns of vintage material.) On Christmas morning 1986, I was shocked and delighted to find the Summer '86 edition of More Trash from MAD rolled up in my stocking. What a gift! Inside were articles illustrated by lots of great cartoonists, all destined to become heroes of mine. Here, in one place, I discovered: the shaggy, dot-eyed creations of Paul Coker; the squiggly line drawings of Sergio Aragones; the bulbous-nosed, pop-eyed buffoons of Don Martin; etc. But uppermost in my estimation were the baroque, evocative drawings of caricaturist Mort Drucker, who mainly worked on MAD's famous movie satires.
More Trash from MAD happens to contain two of Mort's all-time greatest articles: an epic 10-page parody of Superman II (1980) called "Superduperman II" and a masterful spoof of the TV sitcom Archie Bunker's Place (1979-83) called "Starchie Bonker's Place or A Christmas Carol O'Conner." I studied those pages with a devotion normally devoted to holy books. What impressed me most was Drucker's commitment to capturing the personalities, moods, and expressions of his subjects -- not just the stars but also the supporting and background players.
Take that "Starchie Bonker" article (originally printed in January 1982) as an example. It's one thing to draw an instantly recognizable Carroll O'Connor, among the most familiar faces on TV at that time, but it's quite another to give readers perfect representations of Anne Meara, Allan Melvin, and Martin Balsam. That was Mort's commitment to quality. I should mention that this particular article is also brilliantly scripted by Arnie Kogen, a real-life TV writer who worked for Carol Burnett and Bob Newhart and who knew the television business from the inside out.
An excerpt from "Starchie Bonker's Place" drawn by Mort Drucker |
Well, after that Christmas, I became an avid reader of MAD -- both new issues and back issues. I spent many hours poring over Mort's material, from the sea of Italian-American faces at the wedding in "The Odd Father" (December 1972) to the masterful two-page spread from "Flopeye" (September 1981) in which the characters from the animated Popeye cartoons stood aside their live-action counterparts. Finding the book Familiar Faces: The Art of Mort Drucker (1988) by David Duncan was another major leap forward in my peculiar scholarship. Digging back into the archives, I learned that Mort's style evolved over the years. I got a kick out of his funky-looking '60s stuff, like "Bats-Man" (September 1966) with its elongated, cadaverous Alan Napier.
A panel from 1966's "Bats-Man." |
I was hardly alone in my admiration of Mort Drucker. I'd wager a generation of cartoonists grew up wanting to draw like him. I still have thick portfolios of my failed attempts. I may never get good at art, but I'll never stop trying, and that's largely because of Mort. The man's influence reached beyond cartoonists and wannabe cartoonists. The Coen Brothers, those masters of the deadpan bizarre, have acknowledged Drucker as an inspiration for the look of their movies. I can also remember, years ago, seeing a panel of comedians on some talk show. Wish I could remember the title. Somehow, the topic of conversation turned to depictions of sexy women in comics. One panelist brought up Mort's drawings of Jacqueline Bisset in a parody of The Deep called "The Dip" (April 1978). Several of the other comics on the show also recalled that article and the effect it'd had on them.
Jacqueline Bisset as drawn by Mort Drucker. |
Somehow, it always felt odd to me when other people like the Coens or those TV comedians would mention Mort Drucker's name. I'd somehow gotten the crazy notion that Mort's work was my own private discovery. Maybe I even dreamed that Mort's articles were intended just for me alone. Who else was scrutinizing those MAD panels, trying to find little background details? But I think a lot of people were. MAD tends to inspire that brand of solitary devotion. Mort's work belongs to the world, just as the work of every great artist belongs to the world. And I don't hesitate to call Mort a great artist. It's just that his best work happened to appear on cheap butcher's paper rather than on gallery walls.
I realize I have not even begun to summarize Mort Drucker's career or legacy. I've not even mentioned his work outside of MAD -- his movie posters, advertisements, comics, etc. But this was intended as a mere reminiscence of how Mort's work personally affected me. I hope that, if you were also a fan, it rekindled some memories.