The Crossroads - A Willow Webpage
Article by Bill Warren, from Starlog #130 (May 1988)

Billy Barty--whose next film, Willow, opens in May--is a very self-effacing man; he's proud of his long career in show business--starting in 1928 at age three--but he's apparently unaware of his real importance and fame. although he is quietly proud of his efforts on behalf of little people, he doesn't seem to know that he is one of the most recognizable and well-liked performers in America, of any size. Barty talks with pleasure about being in Tough Guys with Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas, mentioning it several times, as if it impressed him deeply that he worked with two such stars. It's very rare to meet a celebrity who is more famous than he thinks he is; it's all too often the other way around.

"He may be a little guy, but he's a big actor," Kirk Douglas told STARLOG. "Billy's a very talented man, and both Burt and I enjoyed doing our scenes with him."

In such a long career, and because he is 3'9", Barty has, of course, made several science-fiction and fantasy films. But until recently, it is surprising how relatively few they have been. In rapid succession, he appeared in Legend, Masters of the Universe and now the new George Lucas-Ron Howard epic Willow.

"I play the High Aldwyn in Willow. He's like the governor, the mayor, the ruler of this town of little people," says Barty. "I pretend that I have magical powers. I bluff my way, using some devices."
What did he say? While they were shooting Rumpelstiltskin, not even Barty himself knew.

Willow Ufgood, the film's main character played by Warwick Davis (STARLOG #101), is also a little person, from the land overseen by Barty's High Aldwyn. Regarding their relationship, Barty explains, "He's going out on this mission, so I offer him my blessings and my advice. What does a mayor do in a town? That's what I do. I'm supposed to know it all, I am the witch doctor, the priest, the leader, the president, the high-muckety-muck."

The highlight of Willow for Barty wasn't his own role, but the opportunities this film affords little people, as to how they are presented to the world. "Little people were used as human beings in Willow," he says. "You have love interest, family interest, concern. Very human, only small. We're not jokes this time. We're real."

Barty's involvement in large-scale fantasy goes back two generations. One of the biggest and most beautiful fantasy films of the 1930s was Max Reinhardt's spectacular production of A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935). Barty played a fairy, Peaseblossom, in what turned out to be one of his more dangerous roles.

"I was leading the parade at the wedding reception, and I had to do a cartwheel and a head spin," he recalls. "There was fake grass coming up on a wire, and it went into my face right up by my eye. But what I remember most about that was being around all the great contract players at Warner Bros. I've got autographs from James Cagney, Joe E. Brown and all the people who were in it."

While he scarcely remembers his brief role as a miniature baby in a tiny bottle, one of several homunculi created by Dr. Pretorious in The Bride of Frankenstein, Barty does recall the earlier star-studded Alice in Wonderland (1933). "I played a pawn, a baby who turns into a pig. They didn't have the prosthetics that they do today; they put cotton in here, and spirit gum and big heavy masks," he relates. "The only way I could rest in the pawn costume, which was made out of something stiff like plywood, was to lay on my side until I took it off for the day. Ned Sparks came in and saw me in makeup, and said, 'Whaddaya tryin' to do, kill the kid?' That's about the way I felt."

Despite the actors' dictum about never working with animals, Barty admits, "I enjoyed doing Gwildor."

Barty has been acting since he was three, when his parents moved to Los Angeles from Pennsylvania. Passing the Selznick Studios where some shooting was underway, Barty's father suggested he do a headspin for the director, and the blue-eyed youngster was hired on the spot. "The director liked it and that was the beginning of my movie career," he recalls. He was a regular, as Mickey's kid brother, in the series of two-reel shorts starring Mickey McGuire--formerly Joe Yule Jr. and Mickey Yule, and later, of course, Mickey Rooney; the two have been friends ever since.

Curiously, Barty couldn't appear in The Wizard of Oz because he was too young, so in 1938, he and his family began doing their vaudeville act full time. They had previously toured for a few months a year. When his family quit the act in 1942, Barty and his sister Dolores entered the Mark Kent Professional School. He had no thought of returning to show business. But he still didn't know "what I wanted to do or what I was going to be, until the last year of high school, when I took up journalism. So, when I went to L.A. City College, I majored in journalism and became sports editor and public relations director of the L.A. Collegian."

He didn't let his height bar him from an admirable college career in sports. "I was always picked last for a team, but I was always the first to be congratulated," Barty laughs. "Nobody wanted me because of my size, and then after I played, everybody wanted me." In basketball, his dribble was so close to the ground that other players had a hard time getting the ball away from him. In football, he had an advantage in leverage, and could zip between the legs of rival players. In track, he ran 50 yards in 7.2 seconds, and as he says, "Many big guys couldn't do that."

After college, Barty entertained hopes of becoming a sports writer, but drifted back into show business, and served as a regular in Spike Jones' shows from 1952 to 1960, as well as appearing in TV shows of all kinds and some movies. One was the Jungle Jim potboiler, Pygmy Island, starring former Tarzan Johnny Weissmuller.

Snowball (Barty) didn't plan on getting trapped by the minions of Darkness, but then the filmmakers didn't originally plan on him being in Legend.

"Oh, there are plenty of stories about that," Barty says, smiling. Because he sounded so much better than the other little people auditioning for roles, casting director Bert Leonard gave him the part of the lead pygmy. Then, Barty went with the other little people to get into costume. "I went into wardrobe and I'm looking around. Here we are, all little people. I'm blonde and blue-eyed, and here's a redhead with blue eyes, and there's another blonde--and we were supposed to be pygmies? I call Bert and say, 'Mr. Leonard, we're here in wardrobe, could I ask you a couple of questions?' He says, 'Yup.' I say, 'Are we supposed to be dark-skinned or white?' 'Yup, that's a good idea. Tell 'em to put dark skin on you.' I say,'OK, well, we also have a blonde, a brunette and a redhead. Should we wear wigs?' He says, 'Good idea, I'll order fright wigs. You handle it.' Suddenly, I was wardrobe master and makeup master."

Later, in the '50s, Barty appeared in Roger Corman's The Undead. About Corman, Barty grins, "How he got in the business, I'll never know. In that movie, somebody is killed with an ax. I look around and there's no blood, no blood on the ax, no blood on the room, no blood on the floor. I say 'Mr. Corman, wouldn't it be good if there's blood around here?' He says, 'Go get the blood.' " About the rumors that Charles B. Griffith's first script for The Undead was written in blank verse, Barty responds, "I think it was written in blank."

One of his most memorable television appearances was also one of his briefest, in an Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode called "The Glass Eye," which also starred William Shatner, Jessica (Batteries Not Included) Tandy and Tom Conway. "That director [Robert Stevens] won an Emmy," Barty says, "but he didn't deserve it. If it hadn't been for Jessica, Tom Conway and me, the show wouldn't have worked. The director spent all his time on the phone.

"People always ask me if I have ever done any serious acting. I did a great deal of serious acting on TV: Playhouse 90, Studio One, General Electric Theatre. I did two Hitchcocks, 'The Glass Eye' and 'The Jar,' which was written by Ray Bradbury."

Bilbo Baggins may have stayed behind while Frodo, Legolas and Aragorn set out on their adventure, but Barty helped lead the battle for recognition of the rotoscoped actors' work.

In the 1960s, Barty continued to appear more frequently in television than movies. He was a regular on Sid & Marty Krofft's Saturday morning TV series, H.R. Pufnstuf. The Kroffts kept Barty busy on all their shows, playing a variety of characters and creatures. "The Bugaloos, Pufnstuf, Sigmund and the Sea Monsters," Barty enumerates. "I was Googie the Gopher in Pufnstuf. I was also the assistant, Hugo, on Dr. Shrinker with Jay Robinson, a great actor. He fit the part so well."

In the 1970s, things changed for the better for Barty, as he had what he considers his best role to date, in Day of the Locust, a film which brought him back into the minds of casting directors. Barty appeared in two of Michael Winner's films: In Won Ton Ton, the Dog Who Saved Hollywood, he played a "mincey" assistant director, and in Firepower with Sophia Loren and James Coburn, Barty was a night club owner. He was featured as the German pal of W.C. Fields in W.C. Fields and Me, and he turned up in Foul Play as a Bible salesman who, mistaken for an assassin, is almost killed by Goldie Hawn.

One of Barty's more unusual assignments as an actor was Bilbo Baggins in the live-action footage shot for Ralph Bakshi's Lord of the Rings. Along with other little-people actors, Barty donned minimal costumes--"not much more than a bedsheet"--and acted on sets that were drawn onto the floor of a blank stage. When Bakshi had these scenes rotoscoped (traced onto animation cels), the actors were still somewhat recognizable. "The drawings were of us, all of our movements, all of our actions. I have a bad leg, and they even put that in there," he notes. "They didn't give anybody any credit, so we went to the union and had them change it."

Despite these problems, Barty returned to the realm of the fantastic when he was cast as Snowball in Ridley Scott's lavish fairy tale, Legend (STARLOG #101, 103). "I went in to read for the lead little person role, which I didn't get, but Ridley Scott wanted me somewhere," he explains. "They rewrote the part for me, since Snowball originally had only two lines and didn't have all the action. I've never seen the full cut, only the version that was released here. They should never have cut out what they did."

Because the young man hired as his stunt double had never appeared in films before, Barty actually doubled for his double, doing all his own stunts in Legend. "We only filmed 45 seconds a day," he laughs. "My makeup took three-and-a-half hours, and by the time I was out of wardrobe, five hours were gone. Tim Curry--fantastic, beautiful actor [STARLOG #105]--the first time they put on his makeup, it took eight hours."

"We're not jokes this time," says Barty of the way the High Aldwyn, Willow (Davis) and the other little people are portrayed. "We're real. Very human, only small."

His role as the red-headed mechanically-minded imp Gwildor in Masters of the Universe was another demanding part. "I enjoyed doing Gwildor because it wasn't an easy part to do. When you're working through 14 pieces of makeup..."

Recently, Cannon Films also made feature-length versions of several well-known fairy tales. The first, Rumpelstiltskin, co-starred Barty and Amy Irving, whose brother David wrote and directed the feature. These relatively low-budgeted films were shot in Israel, not always under the best conditions--for example, no air conditioning. Or rather, the wrong kind.

"Oh, there was lots of air conditioning," Barty claims. "It was all open. The soundstages had sides made of plastic sheeting. It was absolutely unbelievable how the sound came out, considering how Amy and I were doing the scenes. [Does Rumpelstiltskin's voice:] 'This is my baby and I-- BDRBDRBDRBDRBDRBDR [sound of plastic sheeting] Aooga aooga beep beep--and don't you get it.' 'We'll blot that out, keep going.' "

Barty also appeared in Cannon's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, due for 1988 release. But don't expect him to be Grumpy or Sneezy or Dopey or Doc; those names originated with the classic Walt Disney animated version (STARLOG #122-123), so the Dwarfs all have different, much less distinctive names. "I play...who do I play? Fiddy or Diddy or Giddy? There's another mishmosh," Barty muses. "I directed half of that movie."

Willow Ufgood (Warwick Davis) is "going out on this mission, so I offer him my blessings and advice," explains Barty.

Under the Rainbow (1981) was a comic tale centering around the production of The Wizard of Oz. Among other things, it depicted the little people hired as the Munchkins getting into wild escapades. Barty, however, wasn't part of the Wizard cast this time, either. Instead, he was the world's shortest Nazi spy. Though he loved the role, he admits, "The picture got a little carried away. We were supposed to do it in 10 weeks and we did 20 weeks. It was crucified. Many people didn't understand it. I did a 21-day tour promoting Under the Rainbow, and I had the same battle over and over. 'That's the film that belittles little people.' I said, 'No. It shows little people in their daily lives. It shows that some drink, some smoke, some have sex, some are good, some are bad.' "

And if anyone would be sensitive to stereotyped or negative portrayals of little people in entertainment, it would be Billy Barty. In 1957, he found Little People of America and embarked on a crusade on behalf of people shorter than 4'10" (the maximum height for membership in Little People). "I don't like the word 'midget,' " he explains. "Medically speaking, 'dwarf' is the proper term. There are 200 different types of dwarfism. There are over a million-and-a-half little people living in the United States. I started the Billy Barty Foundation in 1975 so we could progress faster."

Try this, just once. For a day, imagine that you are no taller than four-and-a- half feet and picture how difficult it would be to reach the higher elevator buttons or books on upper shelves at libraries, and to perform other routine daily tasks. Imagine being this way forever, and you will understand the second-worst aspect of being a little person: getting along in a world where half of everything is out of reach.

"The hardest thing is to erase from minds the stereotypes that people have about people of short stature," Barty remarks. "You don't see any little people doing newscasts, you don't see any doing sports writing, you don't see any doing sports announcing, you don't see any coaches, but there are little people who are capable of doing these things, who have proven themselves. Only one has ever had a TV series per se, and that's David Rappaport {STARLOG #96]."

As Gwildor, Barty perfected the Cosmic Key, the one thing that could make Skeletor and He-Man the Masters of the Universe.

Reminded that in a previous interview, he had commented that one of the biggest burdens a little person might have to bear is the attitude of his own parents, Barty still agrees. "That's where it starts and sometimes finishes. My parents never told me I was small, so I never knew any better. They had to sign for me to play football and basketball, but they never said, 'No, you can't. You're too small.' I'm not the only one who has proved little people can get along in the big world. There are other little people out there who are doctors, lawyers, school teachers, electronic engineers."

Recently, Barty had a very positive experience involving little people on the set of Willow. When Lucasfilm was casting for little people for the film, a call in England netted only 65 performers, and 225 were needed. So, the casting call was extended all across Europe, with many nationalities recruited. Some 13 different languages were spoken on the set, leading to the formation of small cliques. But when Roland, a little person from France, learned that the famous Billy Barty, the founder of Little People, was on the set, he became excited and attitudes changed.

"We all started to become friends," Barty says. "After three or four days, everyone was talking and interpreting for each other, like the United Nations. We started getting together off the set. A couple of them were really down on themselves, uptight, and we changed it around. Tony Cox and myself and all the Americans gave them a new lift in life. It was really a change. We were all hugging and kissing, when we left, they were crying; no one wanted to see the others leave. It became a good mutual thing in a week-and-a-half. I was on Cloud Nine."

Eve Arden and Carrie Fisher look on while Barty, playing a naughty Nazi, threatens Chevy Chase Under the Rainbow.

Barty tries to deny that he is really a leader in anything, insisting that he's just someone who sometimes notices when something should be done, and then does it. He can be a role model not just for little people, but for anyone who feels they have a handicap to overcome. However, it is among people of less than average height that Barty has had his biggest impact, particularly on a second grader named Gabriel Pimentel.

Occasionally, Barty has spoken at schools, helping to make children aware that little people are people. However, it rarely gets as personal as it did with young Gabriel Pimentel. He entered the first grade at an elementary school in Pacoima, California only a few years ago, and in the unthinking manner of children, he was teased and taunted, for he is a little person with the same kind of dwarfism as Billy Barty himself. The other children patted Pimentel on the head, teased him about joining the circus, and in general made his life miserable. Barty was contacted by John Hall, the school's counselor. The actor took Pimentel, who only vaguely knew there were others like himself, to see Rumpelstiltskin, where he met many other little people. "He floated, he was elated, he was not alone any more," Barty says with shy pride.

But it wasn't only on Gabriel Pimentel that Barty had an effect. According to Claudia Puig's Los Angeles Times account of Barty's visit to Pimentel's school, the boy's classmates were also taught a few things. Barty, said Puig, "talked about the myriad jobs that little people have mastered, about little people who have become accomplished pilots or famous painters. The kids seemed to catch on. 'I learned to be kind to short people today,' said student Cecilia Balljos. 'They have feelings like us, too.' 'Gabriel's the same as me,' said seven-year-old Richard Aldana. 'He's my friend.' "

As Barty prepared to leave the school, he unthinkingly tousled Gabriel Pimentel's hair, one of the actions by his classmates that had most offended the boy. "I really did pat him on the head without thinking," Bartys says, slightly embarassed, "then said, 'I'm not supposed to do that, am I, Gabriel?' And he said, 'Oh, that's all right.' "

Barty's advice for those who are difficult is simple. "I would say to anybody--I don't care what size they are, but when you're a little person, it's compounded--who is out of the norm that the negative things are so obvious and so many, that you should look at the positive things around. To participate, to me, is success in itself. You think you're alone," Barty says to little people everywhere, "but you're not alone. It's like any other service group. As I always say, 'We don't want a hand out, we want a hand up.' "

As for himself and his own fame as an actor and an entertainer, Barty is realistic. "I've never looked at acting as 'Ahhh!' and 'Gee!' I started in vaudeville when I was five, and for me, it was just walking on a stage and I'm gonna perform. Later on, I was impressed by many things, like when I worked with Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas in Tough Guys. That was an 'Ahhh!' for me. Then, I look back, even today, I guess I can go 'Ahhh!' because I worked with Ruby Keeler and Dick Powell, in Gold Diggers of 1933, when I was nine. Then, they were just grown-ups on the stage. As I look back, I'm more awed now than I was when I was actually doing it."

And his finest moment in his career as an entertainer? "It'll happen one of these days," says Billy Barty.

 
Warren, Bill. "Blessings from the High Aldwyn" Starlog #130 . Ed. David McDonnell. New York: Jacobs, May 1988. 32-37.