Bob Baker's Marionette Theater

Second Street Jazz

Bob Baker, the man behind the puppets

By Sierra Feldner-Shaw

Celebrating 50 years of puppetry

I've been driving by Bob Baker's Marionette Theater for years, but until last week I had no idea that I was cruising by a Los Angeles institution. Located on an unassuming stretch of Glendale Boulevard just under an overpass at the junction of 1st and 2nd Streets near Downtown, the plain white cinderblock building gives no hint of what's inside: a bastion of kitsch, historical archive, or font of pure fun, depending on your age-range and bent.

Celebrating its 50th anniversary this year, the BBMT is still running steady, if not exactly strong. Though designated a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument in 2009, the theater had been under threat of extinction over the last several years due to financial pressures (it recently received an unexpected infusion of cash from a donor, allowing it to keep its doors open). The well-worn interior and smallish group of kids clustered around the section of carpet that serves as a stage are a hint that the theater has seen better days. Still, it continues to host busloads of school children and their parents that come to see the daily themed reviews and take part in the ice cream party that happens after every show.

Unlike a more typical marionette show (if "typical marionette show" isn't a contradiction in terms at this point), the people pulling the strings at Bob Baker's do so in the open, where you can see them. Dressed in black, the young puppeteers, many of them high school students receiving credit for their apprenticeships, move up and down the stage area, maneuvering the puppets' complicated-looking strings with dexterity and skill. Despite the obvious correlation between the manipulators and the animated dolls at their feet, the kids watching the show on the afternoon I was there didn't seem to notice that anything was amiss. Wide-eyed and ecstatic, they reached out to hug or touch the marionettes, calling out to them as they floated by.

Mr. Baker, or "Bob," is a spry 86-year-old puppet master with a twinkle in his eye who's been fabricating and performing with puppets since the age of five. A Los Angeles native who still lives in the Echo Park house where he was born, Baker began his show business career early and hit his stride in the 1940s, when he worked for George Pal on the legendary Puppetoon shorts and later for Walt Disney. In his heyday during the Golden Age of Hollywood, he performed at birthday parties for the children of stars like Danny Kaye, Lucille Ball, and Joan Crawford. His string-puppetry was featured in A Star is Born and the 1960 Elvis Presley film G.I. Blues, as well as on the original Star Trek and Bewitched. His handcrafted marionettes were sold at luxury department stores and FAO Schwarz.

Baker and his former partner Alton Wood opened the Marionette Theater in the early 1960s on the site of a former scenic shop, hoping to set up a permanent showcase for their craft. There they established a workshop – still in use today – where they fashioned their intricately detailed marionettes, many of them now worth thousands of dollars. They also began putting on shows; the Bob Baker Marionettes were so popular during their heyday that they traveled the globe performing vaudeville-style numbers, including stints on Navy ships and submarines.

Though the show is geared for young children, it contains elements of nostalgia (and considerable weirdness; the day I went I saw a particularly psychedelic and not-exactly-PC version of the Nutcracker) that will appeal to kids of every decade. Ryan Gosling's band Dead Mans Bones held a series of concerts there this past September, with Mr. Baker's ornate marionettes wiggling along to the score and the Silverlake Conservatory's Youth Choir accompanying. Aside from the museum aspect of the theater (it's worth a visit for the photos, old sketches, and letters of recognition alone), the best part of the show for me was the reminder of the power of this ancient art form to inspire genuine delight. It was obvious from the looks of wonder and awe on their faces that these puppets were as alive to the kids of 2010 – who could have been watching full-length animated movies on their smart phones or playing interactive video games in real time with children in Tokyo – as they would have been 50 years ago. Yay for that.

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