Howard Morris

The Man Who Stood Five Feet Tall and Ran on Pure Nerve

Howard Morris didn't need a commanding physical presence to fill the frame. A wild-eyed stare and an energy that wore out the rest of the cast before the first rehearsal was over were enough.

Born in the Bronx in 1919. During World War II he was stationed in the Pacific, where he began organizing shows for the troops, because boredom was almost as dangerous as the enemy.

Back in New York, he joined the Sid Caesar team on Your Show of Shows. It was a comedy survival school where Morris learned that humor was a matter of mechanical rhythm and surgical precision.

His colleagues affectionately called him the little one.

But his height never limited his creative ambition. In 1963 he first appeared on The Andy Griffith Show as Ernest T. Bass, a wild mountain man who threw rocks at windows. He appeared in only five episodes over the years, but the impact was so strong that audiences never stopped associating him with that erratic character.

The Director's Chair and the Refuge of Voice Acting

Morris soon grew tired of being seen only as a funny supporting player. In 1967 he directed Who's Minding the Mint? and proved he had absolute control over the choreographed chaos on screen.

A year later he directed With Six You Get Eggroll. It was Doris Day's last film, and Morris gave a standard family production a classic comedy rhythm far more dignified than expected.

And then cinema changed its skin.

By the late seventies, live-action work was scarce for actors of his generation. So Morris turned to cartoon voice booths instead. He lent his voice to characters on The Jetsons and The Flintstones, and his ability to shift between registers was nearly limitless.

In 1984, he played Dr. Zidell in Splash under Ron Howard's direction. It was a professional nod from a former set mate who knew Morris was still a tireless engine of comedy.

He earned the union minimum wage in many of his last voice jobs, simply for the pleasure of staying active.

The Final Silence in Hollywood

He never sought the applause of intellectual critics or prestigious awards. He preferred the effectiveness of an instant laugh sparked by an absurd gesture or an off-key shout.

His last credited appearance was in 2005 in a short film titled The Last Laugh. He died shortly after, on May 21 of that same year, at his home in Los Angeles from heart complications.

He was 85 years old.

He left behind a body of work of more than 100 credits spanning directing, acting and voice work, without ever headlining a major studio poster.