Anthony Mack - Worst Writer Ever? (Part 1: The Other Bob McGowan)

 

Rare photo of Anthony Mack, ca. 1927.

Anthony Mack is a controversial figure in the history of the Hal Roach Studios and the Our Gang series. Over the years, he’s gained recognition among fans as a lesser talent – the mastermind behind some of the worst Little Rascals shorts ever made. But is this reputation really deserved? Let’s take a look at this often-ignored Roach writer.

Fans may know that Mack was the nephew of Robert Francis “Bob” McGowan, the well-respected director, writer, and producer of nearly the entire first decade of Our Gang. “Uncle Bob” is often considered the ‘voice’ of the series, and rightfully so. In a McGowan-helmed episode, one was in for a fun backyard adventure with the likeable gang of misfits from down the street.

Born on July 11, 1882 in Denver, Colorado, Bob McGowan grew up sharing a special bond with his older brother John. When the boys’ father died at the hand of juvenile delinquents, it was up to John to look out for Bob, playing a ‘little daddy’ role in his life. As a young man, Bob decided to become a fire fighter. While on the job, a major injury led to gangrene to set into his foot. John would not let the doctors amputate his brother’s leg, which was instead treated with morphine.

Their bond was tight enough for John to name his son, Robert Anthony McGowan, after Bob. When Bob, Jr. reached his 20s, he was sent out to Los Angeles to learn the art of comedy filmmaking under his uncle. It seemed like a wise move; Bob had no son of his own, and a nephew could potentially take on the ‘family business’ once it was time for the longtime director to opt out. 

War Feathers (1926), D: Anthony Mack

In the Summer 1925, Junior began working with Uncle Bob as an assistant director and gag man. His first known Gang short was Boys Will Be Joys. After about a year of learning the ropes, he got his first hand at directing on War Feathers, a delightfully silly Western parody in which the Our Gangers wind up on a ranch with a band of outlaws. Junior was still being paid as an assistant, and Uncle Bob took the onscreen credit, but this tryout seemed to be enough to sell the novice comedy man as a semi-regular director. To avoid confusion and (not unfounded) accusations of nepotism – Bob, Jr. (reluctantly) agreed to adopt the screen name Anthony Mack. To continue avoiding confusion, he shall be referred to as such from here on. 

 

Mack does a rare acting job as a cop in 1926’s Monkey Business. 

 

Title card scribe “Beanie” Walker opted to give the character ‘shouty’ (all caps) dialogue, perhaps as a slight jab at Mack’s underplayed performance. 

 

McGowan and Mack were soon dividing the directorial duties on the Gang shorts, often working on the same film on separate days. The director-in-training was handed the keys to the castle in early 1927 while Uncle Bob took a doctor-prescribed vacation for about three months. During this period, Mack was in charge of three shorts that are often cited as some of the silent era’s weakest.

 

In Tired Business Men, the Gang give out a brutal initiation to prospective club member Joe Cobb. When the kids begin to fear that Joe’s police officer father could jail them, the new guy returns with an even more harsh revenge. While a clever sight gag appears from time to time, we’re mostly left a more mean-spirited episode with less likable takes on the Gang characters.

 

 

Baby Brother casts Joe as a lonely rich kid who wants a baby brother of his own. Farina, with the promise of payment, borrows a Black baby and paints him white to pass off as a worthy candidate. Once again, an occasional cute bit pops up (including a delightful cameo by a bashful Oliver Hardy). But other moments consist of dated humor and some particularly tasteless gags – including one in which the diaper on Farina’s baby brother catches on fire.  

 

 

In Chicken Feed, the kids get their hands on some phony magic powder and are convinced that they’ve turned Farina’s sister Mango into a monkey. A chase after ‘Mango’ leads to further encounters with a playful bear, angry lions, a chicken, and even Krazy Kat. From cruel treatment of Farina and his sister to perhaps even more cruel treatment of the film’s animal costars, Chicken Feed is not an easy watch.

 

1927: Bob McGowan returns from 

vacation and visits the set of 

Chicken Feed 

The warmth and charm of the McGowan-helmed outings are absent in all three shorts. The atmosphere behind the scenes was also reportedly different. Jay R. Smith remembered Mack as being “less patient” than McGowan. During filming on Tired Business Men, Jay’s penchant for goofing off caused a carefully constructed gag involving a pool table and a chicken egg to be destroyed. A frustrated Mack fired Jay on the spot (though he was rehired before heading home that day). 

When McGowan returned to the Roach lot, he and Mack were back to splitting the directing chores. Some of these shorts, like the mean-spirited Election Day and the tired haunted house comedy Fast Freight, were hardly classics. But other Mack-dominated shorts included the fast-paced The Glorious Fourth, in which Pete the Pup causes a town-wide panic after chowing down on some powerful explosives; Playin’ Hookey, an entertaining romp through a movie studio; Dog Heaven, a bizarre satire of dramas told from the perspective of Petey; and the series’ peppy penultimate silent short Cat, Dog & Co. There, the kids get involved in a ‘Be Kind to Animals’ society and go to the trouble of freeing every four-legged creature in the neighborhood. Before long, the neighborhood is littered with rodents, rabbits, and skittish townsfolks.

 

It’s not totally clear how hands-off McGowan was on these ‘shared’ entries. Many credit him as “supervisor,” implying that he may have been a little more involved on his nephew’s shooting days. Otherwise, it looks as though Anthony Mack could handle an Our Gang comedy – even if his output was spotty

Our Gang historian Robert Demoss offers his own take on the Mack shorts.

“The director in those days wasn’t really making the final decisions – it was a producer’s artform.  Uncle Bob McGowan was essentially producing the series during the time Mack was involved, and I suspect he was ultimately responsible for giving the go-ahead on any given script, and may very well have reserved the better ones for himself and let his nephew direct the less-interesting ones… both of them seemed quite capable of getting convincing performances out of the kids, which was the primary goal.” 

While it’s unclear if Mack was intentionally kept away from the stronger Our Gangs, his relationship with Uncle Bob was hardly harmonious. Mack’s youngest daughter, the late voice actress Mickie McGowan, recalled her father’s frustration with losing credit on films to his uncle. One example was Forgotten Babies, a rare return to the director’s chair for Mack after sound arrived. In it, four-year-old Spanky McFarland is blackmailed into babysitting the Gang’s younger brothers and sisters. The film contains several remarkable (if you know, you know) moments, including an entertaining retelling of Tarzan by Spanky. It’s a fan-favorite short, but one that is credited to McGowan. Further, Mack felt that Bob didn’t respect his presence on set, often feeling more like a lackey than a director – or even an assistant director. 

 

1932: Mack cast his daughter, 

Madeline "Nan" McGowan, 

 as one of the titular Forgotten Babies. 

 

Mack briefly got away from his uncle in 1931 when he and Lloyd French were assigned to The Boy Friends comedies. Replacing director George Stevens, Mack and French collaborated on the final four shorts in the series. Otherwise, it seems Mack had been ‘demoted’ to an AD and writing role for Our Gang. According to studio payroll ledgers, he contributed gags to such fan favorites as School’s Out, Free Wheeling, Birthday Blues, The Kid from Borneo, Wild Poses, and Hi’-Neighbor!  

 

Anthony Mack would soon be playing a more pivotal role in the Our Gang series. Next time, we’ll take a look at his move from Roach’s comfortable comedy haven to Leo the Lion’s den.

 

 

By Matthew Lydick

Special Thanks: Mickie McGowan, Robert Demoss, Randy Skredtvedt