As a result, the anniversary OZ video provided the perfect opportunity to share the entire routine. Ray Bolger’s lengthy, special-effects dance to “If I Only Had a Brain” (deleted from the original 1939 OZ print) had already been seen in the theatrical film, THAT’S DANCING (1985). We followed the same concept – using OZ publicity photos – to illustrate the introductory patter section of “The Jitterbug,” and then segued to OZ composer Harold Arlen’s home movies of a dress rehearsal of the number to cover the rest of the song. When I added that research for the book had led to never-before-published Ebsen costume and make-up test photos (as well as several on-the-set scene stills of Buddy as the Tin Man), it was determined that they could be “laid down” on the videotape to accompany his recording of his song, resulting in an audio/visual treat. I told George and Sue about the recently-discovered soundtracks of “The Jitterbug” and Buddy Ebsen’s rendition of “If I Only Had a Heart” (prerecorded before his allergic reaction to the aluminum dust in the Tin Man’s makeup led to his replacement in the movie). In brief, we all hit it off George took Rick and me on a tour of the original MGM lot and soundstages, and when he and Sue heard about the forthcoming coffee-table book, the three of us sprang into a fervent brainstorming session on what might comprise a special OZ home videotape – more spectacular, in effect, than any of the previous versions.ĭuring that conversation, we discussed the fact that OZ would be duplicated on a two-hour tape, which left roughly fifteen minutes of space “to fill” at the film’s conclusion. Rick had business with Sue at company headquarters in California and took me along I was in Los Angeles doing the final research and writing on what came to be known as “the green book”: THE WIZARD OF OZ: THE OFFICIAL 50 th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY, published ten months later in August 1989. In autumn 1988, I was introduced to George via corporate publicist Sue Procko, whom I’d met via a decade-old New York friendship with Rick Skye.
Oz and Judy Garland fans were blessed to have MGM honcho George Feltenstein onsite as an omniscient and indefatigable fellow enthusiast. However, the fates aligned to propel the company into a (for-the-times) lavish new edition. As a result, and despite the approach of the film’s fiftieth anniversary, MGM/UA Home Video was unsure of how and whether-or-not to proceed with yet another new “container” and reissue in 1989.
#Autumn in new york vhs tv#
This in itself was a genuine achievement as, across the 1980s, the cost of videotape recorders themselves had decreased to the point that many households boasted them, and their owners could have easily taped OZ off TV during one of its annual national teleshowings. It then enjoyed a major repackaging and price reduction in August 1985, and the same thing happened again in 1988, as the Wicked Witch of the West came into her own and became a primary feature of both cover and promotion.īetween those three releases, it was estimated that THE WIZARD OF OZ had sold – by late 1988 – nearly two million copies.
#Autumn in new york vhs movie#
The movie initially went out to the prerecorded videotape market in October 1980. But its ubiquitous success was neither premeditated or taken for granted, as this was far from the first commercial release of THE WIZARD OF OZ for at-your-own-pleasure viewing. The VHS box cover shown above should be familiar to many of you, especially Oz fans or those who were (or had) children or grandchildren at that time.
Spearheading that 1989 celebration (if, initially, unexpectedly so) was the film’s latest home video incarnation. and both vintage and new collectors to unbridled passion in their desire to amass related products and association items. It also propelled the Oz collectible market to new heights. So, this seems like a good time to look back to the fiftieth OZ anniversary, which became – at least to the somewhat-surprise of MGM and its licensees – the onset of an Ozian furor that has yet to subside. It was July 1938 when various creative aspects of the enterprise began to genuinely coalesce: casting and scripting were well underway (if, as it turned out, far from complete) most of the songs had been written, submitted, and approved and Technicolor camera tests actually began eighty years ago this coming week. I can’t predict whether that makes this next statement easy or difficult to comprehend, but believe it or not, we’ve just hit the inception of the eightieth anniversary year of this legendary motion picture. For countless men, women, and children – past, present, and probably future – the cornerstone and heart of their Oz familiarity was/is/will be firmly founded in Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 musical production of THE WIZARD OF OZ.
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