Matt Williams explores the greatest Tarzan of them all
During an almost forgotten time, in a land as fantastical as Middle Earth, exists Tarzan, Lord of the Apes. Not the Tarzan so carefully imagined by his creator, novelist Edgar Rice Burroughs but instead a loose and imaginative celluloid interpretation; its principal big screen interpreter, Johnny Weissmuller.
So potent and memorable was Weissmuller's persona that today many instantly associate the jungle man with this Hungarian-born star. To countless fans, Johnny was and always will be THE movie Tarzan. Unfortunately the name 'Weissmuller' has gradually lost its significance over the years. Mention the great jungle lord today and the younger generation likely think Disney. Fact is, even legendary figures need to be given a fresh lick of paint; dusted and polished and re-presented to the public. And who better than Johnny Weissmuller, star of twelve 1930s and 40s MGM/RKO classics?
Want to know why Tarzan became one of the 20th century's most enduring icons? Or how and why the name of Tarzan was to become associated with an Olympic gold medallist swimmer and athlete with a high voice and a killer yell? Then read on…
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The Weissmuller period began in 1932 with Tarzan, the Ape Man and ended in 1948 with Tarzan and the Mermaids. Twelve films, the first half dozen released by MGM, the remainder by RKO. Twelve classic yarns that assured the cinematic longevity and popularity of this mythical figure.
I was first exposed to Weissmuller when I caught one of his films early one morning during the Christmas school holidays. I would have been around 15 or 16; old enough, at least, to overcome the teenager's natural aversion to black and white film-stock. Truth was, it shouldn't have worked at all: the FX were often dodgy; the locations and animal footage seldom believable; the natives clichéd and the baddies impossibly suave and stiff-upper lipped. Yet something must have touched a nerve for I made certain I saw the remainder of the season. I was addicted, though I couldn't say why.
Having a lifelong interest in natural history - in particular, African wildlife - may have had something to do with it. Or perhaps it was the cheeky antics of Tarzan's faithful companion, Cheta the chimp; or the carefree simplicity of Tarzan's life; the efficiency and finality of his solutions; problems that would tax the urban man, demanding analysis, not action. Could it be that the contrived, picture-perfect jungle environment and mod-con equipped tree-house appealed to the fantasy fan within? Or was it that Johnny Weissmuller was such an utterly convincing Tarzan that I couldn't imagine another actor essaying the role with anything like the same level of conviction and childlike charm?
Even when you're a teenager, you're aware that filmmakers do not necessarily set out to present reality. One instinctively knows that lions and leopards don't make a habit out of chasing chimps up trees (assuming the two species even come into contact). That people - even Tarzan-like super-humans - rarely wrestle crocodiles and live to tell the tale (unless your name is Steve Irwin). That there's no such thing as jungle fever medicine that can cure virtually every ailment. And for sure, herds of elephants don't stampede pigmy villages in response to a few carefully placed yells from the throat of a well-muscled, loin-clothed ape-man.
Herein lies the dichotomy. The very fact that much of the world propagated in the Weissmuller Tarzans is clearly fantasy conversely accounts for its popularity. Films are popular for one principal reason: they present an alternative and often more desirable world than the one we inhabit. No one watches a Weissmuller movie to expand their natural history knowledge - you tune into a David Attenborough documentary for that. Similarly, you don't watch a Weissmuller film for its anthropological insights, or to broaden your geographical knowledge. In their way, the Johnny Weissmuller films are every bit as fantastical as King Kong or Mysterious Island - which might help explain their appeal to children and adults alike.
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As with the careers of so many great stars, chance played a major role in Weissmuller's film career. After having proven his aquatic prowess by winning no less than five gold Olympic swimming medals in the 1924 and 1928 Olympic games, establishing 67 world records and twice winning the Chicago Marathon Race, Johnny Weissmuller quite unexpectedly entered the world of celluloid when his abilities were spotted by screenwriter Cyril Hume at the Hollywood Athletic Club on Sunset Blvd, a club to which both belonged. Hume invited Weissmuller to lunch at MGM to discuss the possibility of starring in a new film based on Edgar Rice Burroughs's popular jungle hero, Tarzan. Though Olympic shot-putter, Herman Brix had already been chosen for the part he'd been injured while working on another picture and MGM couldn't afford to wait till he'd healed. Weissmuller was chosen instead - and a legend was born.
This wasn't the first time the name Tarzan had entered the public's vocabulary. During the first half of the twentieth century the American reading public had had access to magazines that were printed on paper with a high pulp content. Affectionately known as 'pulp mags', they contained every kind of fiction imaginable, from romance to western, science fiction to historical, with gaudy covers that made them virtually 'leap' off the shelves into the hands of those with a penchant for fast-paced, far-fetched stories. One particularly prominent magazine was the October 1912 edition of All-Story magazine, with its 'man astride a charging lion' cover and its evocatively entitled story 'Tarzan of the Apes - A Romance of the Jungle'.
The story told of how a descendant of a noble English family was born in Africa where his parents died when he was a baby; how he was adopted by a she-ape and brought up in their company; of how he learned to read English, met and fell in love with white English girl, Jane Porter; and how, finally, he came to civilisation to make his own. Its author was Edgar Rice Burroughs and his tale so impressed the magazine's editor that he made the rare decision to run the novel-length story in a single issue.
After being serialised in the pulps, Tarzan's many adventures were published in US newspapers such as New York's Evening World. Only then did the book publishers display an interest in publishing Tarzan in novel format, culminating in an offer from a small but respected publisher from Burroughs' home town of Chicago.
Tarzan of the Apes first appeared in book form in 1914, priced
two dollars (today a first edition, if you can find one, would sell
for about sixty thousand dollars!). From this single novel was
to spring two dozen more, hundreds of comic books, more than forty movies
and numerous radio and TV shows. Burroughs would subsequently go on
to write a total of 26 Tarzan books, as well as many non-Tarzan titles.
The first true Tarzan movie adaptation, Tarzan of the Apes (1918) was a huge hit, as well as being one of the first films to gross over a million dollars. Several more movie adaptations followed, culminating in 1929's Tarzan the Tiger, accompanied by a crude soundtrack which, incidentally, featured the first Tarzan yell captured on film (though by all accounts it was as painful to the ears as a backside of Zulu spears).
In 1931, Metro Goldwyn Meyer's Irving Thalberg approached Burroughs
with the idea of producing a series of sound Tarzan films; 'A' list
movies full of action, stunts and adventure on a grand scale. However
Burroughs had already sold the film rights to Tarzan of the Apes.
The solution was simple: rewrite Tarzan. The result would be a simplified
version of the novels' conventions. The American Jane Porter, for example,
would become the English Jane Parker. The process by which Tarzan reaches
Africa would be conveniently glossed over. But perhaps the biggest difference
was that Tarzan would never be exposed to civilisation (unless you count
his hysterical trip to the Big Apple in 1942's Tarzan's New York
Adventure), meaning there was no reason for him to master English
language and customs. Indeed, why not reduce his speaking part to a
minimum - after all, it would help in finding someone who at least looked
the part.
MGM paid Edgar Rice Burroughs $20,000 for the rights to make the movie, plus $1000 per week for five weeks to act as a consultant (he'd initially wanted $100,000). It turned out to be a shrewd move. 1932's Tarzan, the Ape Man went on to become a huge hit, giving Depression-era movie goers escapist entertainment of epic proportions while making Johnny Weissmuller an overnight sensation. Admittedly some of the movie's backdrops look decidedly dodgy to the modern eye; and the art of superimposing actors over live action backgrounds populated with African natives may in hindsight appear artificial. But hey, this was 1932 and lots of time and money had been invested in this much anticipated movie. What the audience got was a first rate adventure story, full-to-bursting with beautiful wildlife footage, exciting chases and plenty of good natured dialogue. Oh, and of course, Jane, played by 20 year old beauty, Maureen O'Sullivan, who would go on to invest her character with a great deal of charisma and pluckiness during her lengthy MGM reign.
It went without saying that Weissmuller did all the swimming required in the movie, but for the aerial shots MGM hired professional trapeze artists, the most famous of which was Alfredo Codonas (of the famous Flying Codonas circus). Other circus performers included the Picchiani troupe clad in ape costumes for several Weissmuller pictures.
Unlike the character so eloquently portrayed in the Tarzan novels,
Tarzan, the Ape Man gave Weissmuller's character little dialogue.
It has been suggested this was because of his high-pitched voice, the
result of a childhood accident, plus his inability to learn lines. However,
MGM intended Tarzan to appeal to appeal to foreign as well as home-grown
markets, so more action and less loquaciousness might actually have
been viewed as a boon.
However, Weissmuller more than compensated for his lack of lines with his unique yell, the origins of which remain an ambiguous mix of fact and myth. Up until the mid-60s, Weissmuller claimed he'd created the cry himself and that it was derived from a yodelling contest he'd won as a youngster. However, a reference by the American Film Institute states that one J.D. Jewkes was employed for this purpose. Another source claims the sound was a combination of the voices of studio technicians, while MGM film editor, Tom Held alleges that it was in fact a combination of Weissmuller's voice, the growl of a dog, the bleat of a camel, the howl of a hyena and the pick of a violin G-string! Samuel Marx wrote that Tarzan's yell was the result of an electronically enhanced shout which was run backwards (the second half of the cry is the first half played backwards, which helps supports this theory). Recently film star Brendan Fraser (who played a hapless version of Tarzan in the 90s adaptation, George of the Jungle) maintained that the cry comprised two singers' voices interspersed with various other sounds. Whatever the truth, Weissmuller's unique yell remains recognisable to this day.
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The early Weissmullers were shot in Lake Sherwood, Woodland Park, Big Tujunga, China Flats and Arboretum in Arcadia, while the rest of the filming took place on the MGM lot. Tarzan's home, the escarpment was situated at the west end of lot one, along with the river/lake sound stages, while Lot two and Sherwood Forest housed the top of the escarpment. The famous tree-house, first seen in 1936's Tarzan Escapes, was built at Crater Camp in what is now the Malibu Creek State Park and was duplicated on a stage at MGM, with the interiors on another sound stage.
The ubiquitous tribes featured in virtually every Weissmuller Tarzan
were, believe it or not, named after MGM personnel. Thus the Jaconis
were derived from Joe Cohn; the Gabonis from Cedric Gibbons; and the
Hymandis from Bernie Hyman. Though later tribal words were pure invention,
for the early films the language was borrowed from local tribes, some
words, such as 'pasi pasi' (hurry up), 'mahowani' (elephants) and the
most famous borrowing, 'umgawa' (down!) having entered our modern day
vocabulary.
However, even the seemingly innocent Tarzan wasn't to escape the insidious influence of censorship. The new production code, headed by Will Hays and Colonel Jason Joy had been formed in 1930, though its influence on the first Weissmuller Tarzan was minimally felt. It was only when Irishman, Joseph Breen joined the staff that the full weight of censorship came to bear. Come 1934 and the vastly superior Tarzan and His Mate, and Breen in his role as the Production Code's Chief Administrator was to insist on several film cuts. First to go was a nude Jane swimming scene (actually a Maureen O'Sullivan double). After fruitless protest to the contrary, MGM relented by putting clothes on Jane, and obscuring or cutting certain 'objectionable' shots. Even this wasn't enough and eventually the offending scenes were removed (though they were restored in the 1980s).
Breen and co. maintained three considerations when viewing jungle movies of this kind: the appearance and costumes of the women, the handling of the animals and the amount of violence or gruesomeness shown. Directives comprised such commands as 'Kindly avoid scenes of excessive violence and brutality, as well as of kneeing, kicking and gouging in all fights throughout' and 'It is presumed that the natives … will be properly costumed, and the intimate parts of their bodies covered at all times'. Certainly as more Weissmuller films were released, the skirts of the women, particularly Jane's, began to get longer - a fact forever bemoaned by the series' male viewers.
Despite the intrusive scissors of the censors, the Weissmuller Tarzans remained popular throughout the 30s, largely because the stories were interchangeable, with familiar predicaments, locations and stock footage common to the majority of the series. The stories were usually a variation on the 'big bad hunters accompanied by an avuncular professor' scenario where said baddies would enter Tarzan's escarpment territory, discover ways of exploiting the beauty of the jungle setting, or the ape man himself, and either get captured by hostile local tribes or kidnap Jane (and later her son, Boy) - or both - necessitating a rescue by the big T.
Through effective use of sets and film locations, the Tarzans created a feel-good 'matinee effect'; a fully functioning, self-enclosed world with its own set of rules. Such conventions make the viewing of a Weissmuller Tarzan all the more enjoyable, i.e. the anticipation of what will take place: dangerous animals chasing humans; the antics of Cheta the chimp; intriguing aquatic sequences; misinterpreted dialogue between Tarzan and Jane (accompanied by Tarzan's perennial 'Why?'); tribal tortures and dancing; revenge on the greedy white hunter (crocodile attacks, swamp swallowings, poisoned arrows, fever, elephant charges); speeded up fights; and, naturally, Tarzan to the rescue. The poor back projection and often risible effects merely add to the 'family fun'.
One of the best examples is the 1939 classic, Tarzan Finds A Son!
After a small plane has crashed in the jungle, Tarzan discovers a single
survivor: a baby boy. Rescued by the ever reliable Cheta, he is adopted
by Tarzan and Jane who raise him as their own and name him …uh … Boy.
Later a safari arrives looking for the lost plane. Meanwhile Jane and
Boy (engagingly played by Johnny Sheffield, personally chosen and coached
by Weissmuller) are captured by hostile natives, whereupon Boy escapes
and calls upon Tarzan to save the day - with a little help from his
trunk-swinging friends.
Tarzan Finds A Son! remains one of the most popular in the series. As well as containing lashings of adventure and heroism, it's full of humorous family interludes (though this can hardly be called an 'ordinary family'), especially when Tarzan experiences the bewildering duties of fatherhood. Kids love the film because of the escapades and the amusing Cheta incidents. Tarzan is a man in a child's body, something they can relate to. Like them, he loves animals. Tarzan's morality and reactions are childlike and predictable, rendering him highly sympathetic. And of course, every kid wants to be Boy: swinging through the trees, running from dangerous animals and natives, protected by the mighty ape-man.
Adults enjoy the film because they aspire to the Utopian dimensions of Tarzan's jungle paradise. The unattainable simplicity of his picturesque existence. Deep down many of us yearn to put aside material things, to escape the urban grind and establish an idyllic retreat. King of the jungle, not slave to the urban variety.
Another MGM notable is Tarzan's New York Adventure (1942). In this charming tale, Boy is kidnapped and taken to New York where he is put to work in the circus (MGM actually hired the Hagenbecker-Wallace circus and put it on their backlot!). Tarzan and Jane travel to the concrete jungle and find themselves having to fight lawyers for custody of Boy, at the same time discovering that the courtroom can be every bit as harsh as the jungle environment.
Everyone who's seen the film remembers that famous dive off the bridge. And yes, Tarzan does have to wear a suit. However, it's Cheta's antics that live in the memory. The scenes where she is let loose on a makeup pack in a hotel room has been known to reduce adults to laughter-weakened invalids!
Weissmuller worked with no less than 8 Chetas during his 16 years as Tarzan, his meeting with Cheta Mk. 1 being particularly memorable. After being warned by the chimp's trainer not to show any fear else the chimp would attack him, Weissmuller, dressed in loincloth and armed with a hunting knife walked up to animal - which promptly bared its teeth, growled and lunged as if to attack. The actor removed the knife from its sheath, held it in front of the chimp's nose, then slammed the animal on the back of the head with the side of the knife handle. He returned the knife to the shield and held out his hand to the chimp - which glared at him, bared its teeth once more, changed its mind, grinned, and jumped up and hugged him. Weissmuller never encountered another problem with the chimp which followed him around like a puppy dog for the remainder of the pictures they worked on.
Cheta was responsible for countless priceless screen moments. Who can forget her applying cold cream to her wizened features? Cheta riding a baby elephant. Cheta as Fuhrer. Cheta drunk! Every picture needs its light relief and this famous animal actor was the perfect clown.
Animal scenes were integral to the Weissmuller Tarzans. When you're young, a lion chasing Cheta or Boy up a tree or across a jungle setting is an exciting experience. It's only when you watch these films in hindsight that you realise neither were necessarily in any danger. A scene of Boy running from a leopard, for instance, might be inter-cut with a separate scene showing the big cat in pursuit. The same applies to scenes where the characters are pursued up trees. It also helped that the film was often speeded up and that the animals - especially the rhinos - were disproportionately sized in comparison to their human adversaries. Such chases seemed to ape (no pun intended) silent film techniques and therefore appear somewhat disconcerting to today's viewers. Nevertheless, their impact on modern audiences cannot be contested.
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It was 1943, and hastened by the death of Thalberg and the completion of the popular 1936 title, Tarzan Escapes, the budgets for the MGM Weissmuller films had begun to shrink. MGM also had to contend with ever diminishing returns from the foreign market, a direct result of World War II. Enter showman Sol Lesser, a producer who from the beginning had helped Edgar Rice Burroughs with MGM. In 1942, after securing Burroughs' blessings, Weissmuller's contract and young Johnny Sheffield, Lesser moved to RKO studios. And so began Weissmuller's RKO years.
By the time the first RKO feature was released, the critics were already
becoming jaded with the series. Maureen O'Sullivan had also had enough
of her role as Jane and nothing could persuade her to return. What was
needed was a strong entry. Something that would re-establish Tarzan's
popularity with critics and cinema goers alike.
RKO's answer was 1943's Tarzan Triumphs. In this simple but effective film, Tarzan joins forces with a female warrior in an attempt to defend her tribe, the Palandrians from the looming Nazi threat. Unable to secure O'Sullivan for the role, Lesser excluded Jane entirely, instead hiring beautiful Frances Gifford to essay the role of the warrior, Zandra. Given its limited budget it remains to this day one of RKO's most exciting Tarzans (whilst making Edgar Rice Burroughs richer by a quarter of a million dollars).
However, these were troubled times and Germany along with countries that supported her refused to show films like Tarzan Triumphs. Sweden and Eire banned it outright because of its anti-Nazi theme, though in many countries patrons cheered when Tarzan uttered 'Now Tarzan make war!', then proceeded to take on the Nazis single-handed!
The first few RKO films cost approximately $500,000 to produce, yet they grossed between 21 and 3 million dollars, topping nearly all Hollywood products shown in foreign markets. One Tarzan feature ran 18 weeks in Cairo while in certain Asiatic countries a new Weissmuller saw the local populace fighting each other for seats. In Shanghai, Bombay and Egypt Tarzan broke the record of all the RKO movies released during its history, even the Disney pictures.
By 1945 and the release of Tarzan and the Amazons the series had gained another Jane, this time in the form of Brenda Joyce. A new Cheta was also recruited, the previous one having died from pneumonia. Weissmuller had even recorded a separate yell which differed completely from the MGM films.
Like MGM, RKO had some splendid Tarzan sets, including the RKO Pathe jungle and lake which formed part of Forty Acres back-lot. Ballona Creek was to become the home of the tree-house, with interiors created on a sound stage (though the long shot of the house was a matte painting). Most of the aquatic shots were filmed at Lake Sherwood (Tarzan Triumphs and Tarzan's Desert Adventure) whilst the remaining films (excluding Tarzan and the Mermaids) were filmed at the Arboretum where Lesser set up a camp comprising 20 trailers of food, dressing rooms, props and wardrobe.
While not quite in the same league as the MGMs, the RKO Tarzans were for the most part highly entertaining and a great deal of fun. Even lesser entries such as Tarzan's Desert Adventure (shot at Olancho Sand Dunes at Lone Pine, California) were worth seeing, despite the former's phoney giant spider. In fact, scenes involving the fake spider were removed in their entirety at the behest of the British censors on the grounds of - get this - cruelty to animals. And you thought the BBFC was narrow-minded!
In total Sol Lesser produced six Johnny Weissmuller Tarzans (and a further nine featuring Lex Barker and Gordon Scott as the eponymous hero). Ironically it was the last in the Weissmuller series, the misguided Tarzan and the Mermaids that truly the side down. One didn't have to get far into the feature to realise it felt all wrong. The pompous Dmitri Tiomkin music score , for example, sounded very un-Tarzan-like. Tarzan was way too old to be playing the role (while ironically, Cheta looked too young to be taken seriously). Furthermore, the film introduced the series' most irritating character, Benji the singing postman (yeah, you heard that right). There was no trademark Tarzan yell. And tragically, Weissmuller's stunt double Angel Garcia was killed when attempting a magnificent high dive from an Acapulco cliff at La Quebrada in Mexico. Ill advised and badly received, it was a weak ending to an otherwise successful series.
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Plenty of trivia and myths surround the Tarzan films. For instance,
'Me Tarzan, you Jane' wasn't, as some believe, a line from an Edgar
Rice Burroughs Tarzan novel/movie script, but instead a quip Johnny
Weissmuller made to Maureen O'Sullivan in the movie studio parking lot.
Seeing that she was struggling to load her heavy suitcase into the trunk
of her car, Weissmuller made his remark as he picked up the case and
tossed it into the vehicle. His comments were overheard by the cast
and crew who thought it funny enough to repeat, ensuring its immortality.
Another little known fact is that none of Burroughs' Tarzan stories was ever filmed. All the Tarzan movies, including the Weissmullers, were derived from original screenplays loosely based on Burroughs' jungle creation.
Weissmuller himself was the subject of many interesting and amusing incidents. For example, he often claimed to have performed all his own stunts - which was only partially true. Naturally he did all his own swimming, though Sol Lesser hired stunt doubles to perform the more dangerous aerobatics. However, Lesser claimed that once a stunt had been photographed, Weissmuller frequently repeated it just to prove he could. Johnny Sheffield denies this saying that Weissmuller never had to prove anything to anybody. Still, it was all good for the publicity machine.
Weissmuller certainly knew how to court the spotlight off-screen as well as on. Once in New York, while dancing at the Stork Club, he flicked a cigarette out of the hand of a young Navy lieutenant resulting in the actor's bodyguards assaulting the young man. He was also charged with separate offences such as impaired driving and non payment of alimony.
One of the most amusing tales describes the actor's close call in Cuba during the time of the Cuban Revolution. While playing golf, he and his friends were abruptly surrounded by a group of Castro's soldiers intent on kidnapping them or worse. With seconds to spare, Weissmuller let out his trademark Tarzan yell. The soldiers immediately recognised it and were so elated to meet Tarzan that they escorted the party back to a safe area.
Weissmuller married five times, his marriage to Mexican Lupe Velez being of particular note. The two were often seen brawling in nightclubs, and on one occasion Weissmuller was spotted pursuing Velez around an exclusive London hotel clad in night clothes, and with the encouragement of the Queen of Holland! Sadly Velez (known as the 'Mexican spitfire'), divorced her husband in 1938 and eventually committed suicide after becoming pregnant by a young actor who refused to marry her.
Like his onscreen character, Weissmuller had his heroic side. During
his honorary stint as a member of the Santa Monica Lifeguard Squad,
he saved a 12-year old boy from drowning off the Municipal Pier. He
also raised millions of dollars for the war effort and taught navy recruits
how to swim out from under water covered with flaming petroleum, earning
him a special citation by the US War Finance Program. And to his credit,
he always steadfastly refused to do lucrative tobacco or alcohol ads
fearing the screen image he portrayed to America's youth would be irreparably
damaged.
After the Tarzan films were over, Weissmuller was approached to appear in a new TV series called Jungle Jim. Johnny was to be given a say in production and a percentage of the profits - he'd even get to wear clothes! Backed by Columbia Studios, Jungle Jim kept Weissmuller busy for the next seven years, after which he tried several ventures - including a TV series on swimming and a tropical wonderland with snake-farm and petting zoo- none of which panned out. He appeared in several movie cameos, including one alongside Maureen O'Sullivan in The Phnyx before leaving the silver screen forever.
Johnny Weissmuller died quietly in his sleep five months before his 80th birthday on January 20, 1984. Among the letters of condolence was a telegram from President Ronald Reagan and Linda Christian who'd played alongside Weissmuller in Tarzan and the Mermaids. At his request, a recording of his famous Tarzan yell was played as his coffin was lowered into the ground.
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Weissmuller had it all: looks, physique, facial expressions, intelligence and humour. He could command the screen with his imposing presence while simultaneously demonstrating incredible gentleness of touch and spirit. For all his heroism and the ferocious justice meted out to his enemies, Weissmuller's character, perhaps a reflection of his real personality, retained a childlike innocence. Somebody free of moral conflicts, unsullied by so-called 'civilised society' and its in-built hatreds and prejudices. A man content with very little.
At their best, the Weissmuller Tarzans played up this Utopian ideal. The idyllic retreat on the escarpment, complete with friendly wildlife and a beautiful, scantily-clad woman at your side, subtly manipulates our need to escape responsibility and embrace adventure and clean living. Of course, it's pure fantasy, but isn't that what films and television are all about? Such films never show the reality of festering jungle wounds; the drinking water is always crystal clear; disease is rare (and easily treatable); no-one falls or is hurt when they swing through trees or dive into lakes. It's all a pleasant daydream, but we want so much to believe that the spell is irrecoverably cast.
Do the Weissmuller Tarzans stand the test of time? Yes, I believe they do. These spectacles rely on portraying a bygone age, a clichéd existence that can only exist on celluloid or in our dreams. Whatever your views, we can thank Johnny Weissmuller for creating the silver screen's most memorable manifestation, someone who imbued his screen persona with a mixture of courage, strength and naive purity. Somebody we can root for and most of all, believe in. We'll never see his like again.
The Films:
MGM
Tarzan, The Ape Man (1932)
Tarzan and His Mate (1934)
Tarzan Escapes (1936)
Tarzan Finds A Son! (1939)
Tarzan's Secret Treasure (1941)
Tarzan's New York Adventure (1942)
RKO
Tarzan Triumphs (1943)
Tarzan's Desert Adventure (1943)
Tarzan and the Amazons (1945)
Tarzan and the Leopard Woman (1945)
Tarzan and the Huntress (1947)
Tarzan and the Mermaids (1948)
Originally appeared in Prism, the British Fantasy Society Newsletter,
August 2003.
With special thanks for use of reference material and pictures featured
on the excellent Johnny
Weissmuller site.
