The low-stakes fun of 'Tales of the Wizard of Oz' (1961)

Who says every Oz story has to feel monumental?

A more obscure Baum work.

There have been, let's say, plenty of television, film, and stage adaptations of L. Frank Baum's famed Oz series of children's books. In fact, these adaptations have been crucial to the longevity and popularity of this 126-year-old franchise. A musical stage play based on Baum's first Oz book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900), was such a success that it directly influenced Baum's sequel, The Marvelous Land of Oz (1904). Generations have come to know Baum's characters through the lavish MGM musical The Wizard of Oz (1939). Decades later, author Gregory Maguire introduced a new generation of readers to this world through his novel Wicked (1995), which was later turned into an extremely popular mega-musical and then a duology of blockbuster films.

In short, there's a reason The Wonderful Wizard of Oz has remained consistently in print (and available at bookstores and libraries) for well over a century while Baum's Dot and Tot of Merryland (1901) hasn't. Not that Dot and Tot is without merit. The book is quaintly charming, and it's even illustrated by the same artist, W.W. Denslow, as The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. It simply didn't inspire a multimedia empire and dozens of bold, revisionist takes the way Baum's previous book did.

Oz adaptations come in all shapes and sizes—some very lighthearted and frivolous, others quite dark and foreboding. There are Oz adaptations for children, other for adults, and some for mixed audiences. There's so much of this material that even the most-dedicated fan will never get through it all. I learned about some of these spinoffs through various DVD releases of The Wizard of Oz. Hidden among the special features, you might find Ted Eshbaugh's 1933 cartoon, Larry Semon's 1925 silent feature, and Chuck Jones' prime time cartoon Off to See the Wizard (1967). More recently, however, I have become aware of a slightly neglected Oz TV series that might appeal to a wider audience if it were better known.

Rankin and Bass.

Arthur Rankin, Jr. (1924-2014) and Jules Bass (1935-2022) are best known for producing animated television specials, often themed around major holidays. Their best known creations include Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), Frosty the Snowman (1969), and Santa Claus is Comin' to Town (1970). They also produced a widely-seen adaptation of The Hobbit (1977) with Orson Bean as the voice of Bilbo. Rankin-Bass occasionally even dabbled in feature films, perhaps most famously with Mad Monster Party? (1967). It's safe to say that generations of American children grew up with their productions.

One of the very earliest Rankin-Bass projects was a syndicated TV series called Tales of the Wizard of Oz. Supposedly, 110 episodes were produced in 1961. That sounds very daunting, until you realize that the average episode of Tales is only about four or five minutes long. The animation, too, is quite low-budget. The character designs are basic and abstract, almost Picasso-like. On this series, the denizens of the Land of Oz tend to look like blobs of color with a few basic identifying features. The backgrounds are also minimalist, lacking the rich detail of other Oz movies and shows. Perhaps only Barry Mahon's bargain basement masterpiece The Wonderful Land of Oz (1969) looks cheaper.

None of this is meant as a complaint, you understand. The sloppy, childlike aesthetic of Tales of the Wizard of Oz adds considerably to its appeal. The art style is so of its time that watching this series is a truly transportive experience. This is America as it was in the innocent days before the Kennedy assassination.

A trade ad for the show.

But what is Tales of the Wizard of Oz actually about? That's the beautiful part: not a whole hell of a lot. The show is set entirely in Oz and features the characters you know well from the 1939 movie, including Dorothy (Corinne Conley), the Strawman aka Socrates (Alfie Scopp), the Tin Man aka Rusty (Larry D. Mann), the Wicked Witch (also Mann), the Cowardly Lion aka Dandy (Paul Kligman), the Munchkins (Bernard Cowan), and the Wizard (Carl Banas, doing a W.C. Fields impression). They all mainly just hang out and get into goofy little predicaments of little consequence. Other than a two-part pilot that establishes the premise, characters, and setting, these miniature adventures are self-contained and can be watched in any order.

Here are some sample plots:

• The Wicked Witch disguises herself as a substitute teacher at a Munchkin school attended by Dorothy and Socrates.

• The Wizard shows off his magic hat, but he merely demonstrates that he is not at all in control of it.

• The Wicked Witch uses a magic potion to turn Socrates into her ideal boyfriend.

• The Wizard buys a fancy, oversized new car with features he doesn't need, only to find there's no place to park it in the Emerald City.

• Dandy opens a hair salon, but the Wicked Witch sabotages his business.

• Taking a cue from Robin Hood, a masked Munchkin steals Dorothy's picnic basket, interrupting her lunch with Dandy.

The main themes of the 1939 movie are only lightly acknowledged in this animated series. Dorothy still supposedly wants to return home to Kansas, while her companions want various gifts (a brain, a heart, courage) from the Wizard, but they're usually content to live without these things in Oz while the Wizard makes hollow promises and stalls for time. The Wicked Witch is not really a malevolent or frightening villain in this series, more of a pesky troublemaker, similar to Lady Elaine Fairchilde from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood (1968-2001). Dorothy isn't one bit afraid of her, nor should she be.

What is it I find so enthralling about Tales of the Wizard of Oz? It's the series' utter lack of urgency. The show is not trying to tell an epic adventure or explore any particular psychological or social themes of great importance. It just wants to let its characters goof around. The classic 1939 movie is an hour and 42 minutes long, and it has a lot to accomplish in that time. It zips from one set piece to another, always keeping the plot moving forward. In contrast, the 1961 series runs about eight or nine hours total and has virtually nothing to accomplish—largely because the famous film already laid the groundwork. So we get to see what the characters' day-to-day lives might be like when they're not making an MGM musical.

Tales of the Wizard of Oz has never seen a legitimate physical media release, but the show is easily available on YouTube. You have the option of watching individual episodes or longer compilations. For truly dedicated fans, these Rankin-Bass characters also starred in a 1964 hourlong musical special called Return to Oz that serves as a belated series finale.