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The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie (First Thoughts)

“Let’s get looney!”

Time to show some gumption!

No need to worry, this is a good movie. Very good. D*mn good! Though I didn’t think it great. Let’s discuss. (There’ll probably be a few spoilers.)

Plot: Porky and Daffy are farm boys. Well, farm animals. Found by a man named Farmer Jim, (who I swear is Tom’s father.) he raised the two to adulthood before leaving the movie. I’m sure he died, but the film doesn’t take it too seriously, so I don’t. Now on their own, the two are in danger of losing the house they’ve grown up in. After some trial and many errors, the two manage to get employment with the local gum factory. Unfortunately, an alien invader who has no name (almost like the creators were begging me to do the honors,) has a plan to control all life on the planet via chewing gum. What’s his ultimate goal? How will our heroes stop him? Is this a worthy successor to its source material? Even if I give you some answers, you better still go see it. It deserves your money and attention.

So, let me just address my biggest problem with the film. And it’s really  just a problem for me. I find the whole story, kind of weak. Just in theatrical terms. While I’m happy to see some gorgeous hand-drawn animation on a big screen again, the story feels like a direct-to-streaming idea. But the animation really is top-notch stuff. As are the jokes. I couldn’t stop smiling. Not every joke landed a winner, but the majority did. Some of which I really didn’t see coming, so the humor hit even harder.

Examples: Farmer Jim looks like a photograph. They’re just remembering him that way? Possibly, but that means only his mouth and eyes move. When he has to walk, he reveals his South Park roots. When our two stars wake up and we see song birds in their house, it’s an homage to Disney, right? It’s more likely they just entered through the hole in the roof that was easily forgotten about earlier. These are well written, and well executed.

And the fan service is top-notch. Smartly, they limit it to stuff relating just to Porky and Daffy’s shorts. Porky reads a book about Gabby, there’s a coffee shop named after Beans, (clever) Duffy makes a cameo, Porky’s piggy bank got stolen once, they wear familiar hats, I caught a snippet of the 60’s Looney Tunes theme, Petunia has a picture of Fluffnums, and they eat a diner called Clampett’s. While there, they are served by a waitress that is screaming celebrity cameo inside. It got me wondering if she was voiced by Bob’s daughter, and lo and behold…

Funny and fun! Good combo! Let’s talk about the character one next.

The origin story gets the job done in a satisfactory way, essentially making the two brothers. I’m fine with that. It would have been cool if they had been adopted by a same-sex couple named Friz and Tex, but that could be seen as insulting. No big deal. Daffy is indirectly responsible for Porky’s stutter. I really prefer Mel’s take on it, but I can’t see that being conveyed unless Porky just told the audience point blank about Blanc’s point. Porky is the straight-laced responsible one, who offsets Daffy’s wacky screwiness. Worked wonders in the past, and wasn’t lost to time. Excellent!

Even some character development occurs. Porky learns to trust that Daffy can be competent, while Daffy realizes to ease up on the loony juice a bit. I think Porky’s more in the wrong there, but it doesn’t change Daffy as a character to learn something. I was a bit concerned that Daffy kept laying eggs, even if he has done that before, it wiggs me out. But they addressed that as a joke as well, so I’m satiated.

Let’s talk about Petunia next. I’m happy to say she is more than Porky’s object of desire, even if its love at first sight for him. (Making a literal cute joke about how Porky sees her most mundane actions as the most beautiful ones.) She has her own wants and goals, but becomes interested in Porky in an organic, if slightly fast way. They also forego any instances of Daffy getting jealous of her. Best of all, she’s got a real personality.

She’s a nerd. Not an over-the-top stereotype, but someone who is very smart and has a keen interest in he work. Great idea! We’ve had smart characters before, but this is a new twist. She’s also got this thing about hating the fact that the company she works for keeps giving the public the same thing with a different package instead of trying to take risky, but creative chances. Now, who was it that Clampett loved parodying? I couldn’t have been the only one who interpreted things like that.

Our antagonist, simply called The Invader by the credits, is a lot of fun. Whoever was animating him was having the time of their life. But we have to spoil a major plot point regarding him. Better skip to the next paragraph break if you haven’t seen the film. Maybe the one after that to be safe. As it turns out, he’s not evil. His plan is actually meant to benefit the planet. Problem is, that twist comes right out of nowhere. No clever hints to catch, and the film portrays him as evil as they possibly can.

Good thing that doesn’t bother me. His reasoning for why he’s doing this ends up being another funny joke, that is still a selfish reason, so it works. And it the turnaround happens a good 7/10ths through, so there’s time to come to grips with things. And I really like his plan. Putting something into gum that makes chewers into mind-controlled slaves? As if the stuff wasn’t disgusting enough. There is a handful of gross-out jokes here, but they know to limit it. I can look past things.

And that animation! It looks great, it probably smells great, and they still had some other fun with it! When aping the original shorts, they change the aspect ratio. When there’s a Powerhouse number, the whole style changes to be more art-deco. When things are meant to be disturbing, they come through. I never realized how disturbing false teeth can be, but they’ve joined the uncanny rank that glass eyes now share. Prosthetic limbs are next!

Don’t forget the voice acting! Eric Bauza continues to be a worthy Mel successor, Peter Macniol does a wonderful Charlie Adler impression, (I was sure it was him.) but the one I had the most concerns with was Candi Milo. She’s a great voice artist, but I’ve always felt her biggest strength was in playing elderly ladies. I needn’t have worried. Petunia sounds cute and intelligent in her capable vocal chords, and compliments Porky beautifully.

It’s an overall good film. And it deserves love. I’m displeased to say that apart from me and my brother who tagged along, there were only nine other theater-goers, who couldn’t even be bothered to look at the credits. Not to mention that the nearest theater playing the flick was the next county over! I warned you all that this film needs to succeed, lest the W.B. gets another reason to think nobody loves their oldest mascots. The ones who gave them a real fighting chance in the cutthroat film industry. Some of the most influential stars in movie history. You know me as the guy online who tries to let others know of their brilliance. That doesn’t mean you can’t help do the same.

Favorite Part: Well, the best is the return of a classic bit: the false theater attendant interacting with the characters on screen. We’ve reached a point where some people will have never seen that gag, and I can see it blowing some young minds. I wish I hadn’t already seen it in trailers. I’m lucky I have no shortage of great moments. I’m choosing the reveal that Petunia stutters when she’s nervous/shy. And this only seeming to happen when she talks to Porky. Awwwwwwww!

Personal Rating: For me, a 3. It’s a good start that could lead to better things. But I know the majority of people will think it even better than that. I’ve no doubt that it could inspire people to look into the original classics. Thus, it earns a 4. And I’m pleased to say so.

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September in the Rain

“Remember?”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Cal Dalton; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 18, 1937.

How many times have I discussed cartoons about product mascots coming to life? More than you have, I’ll wager. If I want to keep my lead, I’ll have to do it again. But doing things you’ve already done is pointless if you have nothing new to say. Good thing I’ve never claimed my life as anything but pointless. That means I can reuse text from previous posts if I need to.

During night, when no living person is around, the mascots for products come to life and… just sing and dance really. A blueing bottles sings “Am I blue?”, a disgusting rubber glove inflates itself to bounce to the music, and even some of our real world mascots join in. Like Camel camels and the Morton’s salt girl. I gotta admit though, some of the mascots don’t make sense to me. What do weeds have to do with scotch? If you count thistles as weeds, that is.

It’s a real honor to see this kind of stuff. You really want to know how the icons react to those who find out their living secret? They’ll try to eat you alive. That’s what the chicks on the “My am I?” powder do.  That worm/larvae is lucky to escape into some genetically modified apples. You ever been digested in a 2-d body? It hurts. You ever try to eat an apple bigger than your head in one sitting? It’s filling, but not organic.

Our title song comes from the guy pictured on the “Dream of Wheat” box. He sounds a bit like Al Jolson, but it couldn’t be him. This guy is legitimately black. (Except for his sometimes white chin.) His mother is Aunt Emma of the pancake flour for crying out loud! The only other possibility would be her encouraging her son to paint his skin, and save her the embarrassment of admitting she had to adopt.  I don’t like that one as much. More feelings are liable to get hurt.

Two cigarette icons dance together, and I want to ship them, but if they procreate, then there would be more pro-smoking ads in the world. I can’t allow that. Smoking took my Walt’s life! I wouldn’t want anyone else to live through that trauma. I forbid you two from seeing each other after this short ends.

Now then, if you thought this short was getting away with reusing footage from the past, it will be punished by having the upbeat parts stolen from it and reused in a future short that’ll leave more of a legacy. The “Gold Rust twins”, Armstrong and Cats, I mean-… actually, let’s just stick with Cats, start up a lively musical number of “Nagasaki”. All the hep cat icons join in, from Aunt Emma to the guys on the “Yea Man” hams. And since we don’t really have a way to end this, we won’t. We’ll just stop and hope you won’t notice. Good night!

Favorite Part: A piper on a coffee can (again with the no sense make) charms some toothpaste out of its tube. I’ve never seen snake toothpaste before.

Personal Rating: 1. There’s hardly anything here you haven’t seen before, and won’t see again. You want grocery gags? That’s Goofy.

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Pied Piper Porky

“Hot dog! I win!”

Your multiple siblings drive pickle wagons!

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by John Carey and Dave Hoffman; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on November 4, 1939.

When you first start out at something, you suck at it. Very few exceptions to this rule. Maybe Mozart, and most likely Mel. Probably even more than I care to list, really. Much as I wish Porky could be included, the evidence of the the two piper films he starred in contradict him. Spoilers, I guess.

The cartoon starts with the legal disclaimer that all rats featuring will only coincidentally look like your cousin’s husband. (Yeah, as if any human ever was that cute.) The news of the day is how the Pied Piper rid the town of rats, and was nice enough to not kidnap any children. But you know what? Amusing as that paper and its puns were, it was false news. There is still at least one rodent running rampant. He’s clearly a mouse, despite what the short says. Are you really going to doubt me: a zoologist without a degree?

Porky lays on the music, and tries to lure (we’re calling him) Rochfort to a trap. He stops short at the last moment, calling us crazy to think he’d go there. Now, this could be another instance of a mouse, being unfairly and unexplainedly immune to the tunes. Or, you can believe what I want to believe: he snaps out of it because Porky stopped playing and he has awesome reaction speed. That’s the correct theory. He’s also smart enough to recognize the threat and break the pipe. Or is it an oboe? Actually, what exactly are the pipes that pipers pipe? Because gift or not, I’m not allowing BAGpipes in my twelve days of Christmas.

Things call for a better mousetrap, but you can’t build those anymore. Nature can supply though. Just select your favorite snake, hawk, weasel, owl, bullfrog, or scorpion to do the job for you. No takers? Good thing there’s no shortage of animals that eat mice! How about a cunning raccoon? Or a beautiful gila monster? A misunderstood tarantula? Or I guess you could choose a crummy cat. But wouldn’t you rather use anything else? As a zoologist without a degree I can’t imagine Felis catus is the best choice for anything other than a meal.

Wow. A whole paragraph about nothing. I’m improving. Porky’s feline, Slapsy Catsy, (no relation) isn’t really that great at catching mice. He’s afraid of the little things. A phobia I just could not understand, but I won’t mock him since he validated my claims of that not being a rat. In fact, that opening text promised me ratS, plural. Lying isn’t very nice. Neither is eating cats, but that’s what Porky said I get to do if Slapsy doesn’t put forth some effort.

A small chase unfolds. Did you know that cats have the weakest skulls of the animal kingdom? If it makes sudden impact with a wall, the cat dies nine times. Porky lends credence to my theory of him being Jesus, by forcing the cat to live by shoving his ninth soul back into its flesh prison. Then, it’s time for a dose of kat-nip. Put that away. No reward until the job is done right. (Unless it’s 4/20.) Wait, my mistake. I really thought I typed “cat nip” earlier. This stuff is steroids on steroids. Not only building the cat’s muscles, but returning every life back for round two. Someone is definitely gon’ die now!

And once the scuffle is over, Rochfort comes out wearing his new pelt of genuine ermine. Look pal, I put up with it when Elmo said that, on account of him being a moron. You should either admit you know better, or stop pretending like Slapsy only killed your roommate.

Favorite Part: Slapsy cowering in fear. Growing women legs turns to cringe to mirth.

Personal Rating: 2. If you couldn’t tell by the name I gave, Rochfort could be seen as offensive today. The jokes aren’t the funniest and there’s a shocking lack of Porky. Inexcusable.

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The Wacky Worm

“My word! A bird!”

These are wonderful days!

Supervision by I. Freleng; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by Cal Dalton; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on June 21, 1941.

Wack is back! Even though this is his first appearance. With how confusing I needlessly make my blog, who’s really the wacky one here?

There’s a bird that looks like the lovechild of a mynah bird and a flamingo. He’s a crow, though. The title promised a worm, and wacky or not, that’s his favorite dish. Unlike the majority of birds that hunt via sight, he can make do via sound as Wack has just begun a song. Obnoxiously stretching out a note. Why does it bother me here, but not there? Because Jones sounded more musical? Because I’m a terrible hypocrite? Maybe I’m just having a bad day?

The bird doesn’t just pluck him away in the middle of the song, which gives us time to look at his weird chin he now has. God did not mean for birds to have a chin. Please get rid of it. And remove those feathers growing out of your beak too. At best they look like feminine eyelashes, but they’re mostly just eyesores, and I hate them. Were you jealous that you couldn’t grow a mustache and glued some pubes on to fake it? And as for you Mr. Worm, I notice your little hairs on your head can’t decide if they’re green or black. And are you wearing pants? I’m really asking.

Wack runs, with a cute bit that has his upper body stretching away from his feet as he goes. Hope you find that funnier than Charlie Chaplin, because they’re going to reuse it a couple more times. He hides in an apple, but the bird knows that all he has to do to find him is watch for the one apple that moves. Turns out, they all do. The answer to this puzzle is to watch the apple that can’t “see” where it’s going. That’s the dead one worn by a worm.

Wack next hides in the junk heap that is always in the middle of forests. The bird thinks he’s been cornerd in a phonograph, but Wack turns it on and ruptures his ear drums. He’s going to be hunting from sight from now on. Wack also hides in a toaster, that can operate even plugged out. (That should be a term. Let me influence you.) One shouldn’t be surprised that only toast comes out of a toaster. It’s tasty, but lacks protein, and birds shouldn’t be eating bread anyway. I applaud the crow for spitting it out. Healthy choices make for healthy bodies, or so the theory goes.

Hiding in a bottle of rubbing alcohol is no different than hiding in the drinkable stuff. Wack is loaded. He comes back to battle the bird, worm to bird. He dares the bird to punch him, and gets that wish. Now with sense knocked back in, he runs again. He takes refuge in apples once more, but since the crow knows the secret to locating him, he has to stay still. There’s only one solution now: eating every apple to find him. What’s worse than finding half a worm in an apple? Starving.

It takes some doing, but the crow eats his way through almost every fruit on the ground. He looks ready to ralph, but it’s the principle of the matter by this point. And protein is still protein. He reaches for his prize, when a woodpecker’s pecking sends down a fresh wave of tree eggs. The phrase usually calls for grapes, but I think we can make do with sour apples being the reason why the crow finally calls it quits.

Favorite Part: Crow: “You’re inebriated.” Wack: “Ah, yes! Disguisting, isn’t it?”

Personal Rating: 2. One gets the feeling that Wack is designed to appeal to babies here. They sacrifice wordy jokes or humorous slapstick for shouting and bouncy movements. I’m glad that Wack’s sequel improved everything. And I stand by that description.

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Buddy the Dentist

“Burny, burny.”

Supervision by Ben Hardaway; Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Jack King; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on March 5, 1935.

Like a good many of you, I hate dentists. I’ve never been a fan of paying someone to hurt me, and considering any dental problems I’ve had only showed up after I started to take brushing seriously… it’s a scam. And who’s to blame for everything? God. It isn’t fair to make life so horrible that even the few things that can make it tolerable (sweets) end up hurting us. Isn’t it enough to make us fat?

That was an unnecessarily long amount of words ultimately saying: As if Buddy wasn’t that great a character before. At least he doesn’t start that way. He began as a simple fudge maker. He used the finest ingredients, all organic and natural. Cocoa, sugar, 42 and an egg. Oh, and a little cardboard for roughage. Such enticing smells have never before billowed out of a pot! And what smells better than chocolate? A dog. (I also would have accepted an anteater.) Alas, most, if not all, animals are kinda killed by ingesting the stuff. Eating it is the one advantage to being human.

Remember Towser? Buddy really loves that dog. The dog here is not Towser. His name is Bozo. If it wasn’t clear enough that Buddy hates this dog, he proves it by giving him some of the fudge. If there’s a small mercy, the dog only gets a couple pieces, because fudge is bad for a canine’s canines. Admittedly true, but if you ate sugar-infused mercury, I don’t think cavities would be your biggest concern. The real reason Buddy made candy? Brownie points. Or should I say Cookie points?

He gives his girl a call to let her know that he made her fudge, all by himself, so she should praise him and never leave him and it looks like fudge-making is the key to a stable relationship, huh? While he talks, Bozo, creature of instinct that he is, heads t’ward the fudge pan. And he devours it! I’m concerned, but also impressed. You ever try to eat more fudge than the free-sample slice offered in one sitting? It’s so rich, it’s not easy. Unless its melted. That makes it easier somehow. Science is still searching for the reason.

Luckily, my prophecy of his doom fails to pan out, but the toothache one doesn’t. Alerted to the pained yelps, (Which sounds kind of echoed to me.) Buddy returns to scold. Only thing to do now is remove the tooth. Oh, did you blink you when Buddy became a practitioner of the dental arts? You really need to start watching these shorts as I do: with double-sided tape that keeps my eyes open, and stuck to the screen. The tingle and headache means its working!

Pliers didn’t work? Maybe you should carve the the jaw open like a pumpkin. Nah, rather than take my advice, look to your calendar for your answers to life. Buddy’s has a dentist pictured on it highlighting why Buddy is inept: dentists use gas. (And no wonder Buddy decided to spend his day by a warm stove. That lousy Octember weather is almost as bad as Apriluary.) Too bad there isn’t any gas on hand- BUDDY! NO! I was half-joking about your dog hating! Yes folks, Buddy has decided to put his dog under via use of his house’s gas line. You know, even Satan thinks dog murder is too evil. You want to go to “extra-special hell”?

Never mind. Buddy heats his house with helium, so the dog just floats a bit. Good thing helium is hilarious in small doses, and logically, hilarious in large. Anyone want to huff a tank with me? Now that the pup has been properly prepared, Buddy can move on to the actual extraction. All toons swear by the method where you tie a string to your tooth and something else. Usually it’s a door, but Buddy chooses one of those whatever they are on his wall. Some sort of lighting fixture I presume? Bozo seems to think it’s a toy, and runs after it when Buddy throws it.

Budds decides to use the door after all. Bozo isn’t too keen on the idea, so Bud decides to calm his nerves by tying the string to his own tooth. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s also incredibly moronic. Like watching *insert whatever you like to hate here, the only things I could supply are way too opinionated to be funny*. Bozo catches sight of a cat in the house, and Buddy is taken along for the ride. The chase continues outside, and is only stopped when the cat races under Cookie’s hammock, with the two larger mammals crashing into her. She and Buddy look weird today. Too much fudge?

Buddy is pleased to see that the crash was a help after all, as Bozo’s tooth has been removed. Cookie is amused to see that Buddy’s tooth met the same fate. I hope you’re not surprised. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later.

Favorite Part: Bozo’s howls of pain prompt Buddy to tell him to “Shut up!” But he’s still on the line with Cookie soooo…

Personal Rating: 2, that’s barely earned. I don’t find the dog abuse funny in this picture. It’s barely saved by the fact that Bozo hardly reacts to the pain once Buddo gets involved, and the psychopath paying for his crime in the end.

Now watch this:

Don’t let such an awful fate befall the Tunes. Watch their new movie. Tell everyone you know to watch it. Buy their tickets if you must. All the early screening reviews I’ve heard say it’s wonderful. I’ll be going, obviously. But I’m only one me. All 117 of you who visit: spread the word. Don’t make the world more loony by being less Looney.

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The Lyin’ Mouse

“I’m the rip-snorton’est, Edward Ever (sic) Horton’est, Charles Laughton’est, and you ain’t heard nort’in’nest lion in the whole world!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng. Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 16, 1937.

It’s a first for this series! A “Melody” without a musical connection! Maybe it should stay this way…

There’s a mouse caught in a mousetrap. Thanks to maybe Bernice Hansen, I can never tell ’tis a buck or a doe. Fate’s been decent to me lately, I’ll let him/her/it decide. They’ve decided female. Since our mouse can’t free herself, she has to shout for aid. Unfortunately, that just attracts attention, and a hungry cat arrives on the scene. Good thing he always keeps sandwich fixin’s in the nearest crate. As is well known, when someone’s about to die, it’s customary to make them a sandwich.

Since they’re just the framing device for the short’s meat, I’ll not bother with names. But I will give kudos to the cat for not removing the mouse from the mousetrap, lest she has a chance to escape. She tries to change his mind on dinner by agreeing to do him a good turn in return for not killing her. And I guess freeing her is part of the bargain. The cat isn’t convinced that she could ever be of use to him, as he’s never heard the famous fable that concerned a mouse getting spared by a lion, and managing to save its life in return.

The mouse tells the tale. There was a lion that was a real bass, as most lions are. He lived in an area that nature couldn’t decide if it should be savanna or forest. He just called it a jungle for simplicity’s sake. His reputation was fierce enough to frighten off all the other animals who lived in this wacky biome. Including a bird that somebody finally realized didn’t belong on their farm. I’m just going to ignore it hiding its head underground via distraction. Look at that flamingo. Judging by his pallor, he’s not getting enough shrimp. If only he knew if he belonged here or not.

The local mouse in these parts gets… I guess I need to determine its identity too. This one will be male. So, HE gets his kicks by blowing a horn that sounds just like a lion. The animals flee again, but this time, the mammals decide to run further towards what could be their doom. Is it that hard to survive in this scientifically inaccurate locale? Be glad it’s not a taiga/coral reef. The lion isn’t amused by the mouse’s mockery, but his attention is almost instantly caught by a delicious aroma in the air.

There’s a roast chicken just being wasted behind him. He tells the mouse to vamoose, as he’s not worth the effort. The mouse promises to help him someday. The lion goes to grab the roast bird. It’s sitting in the middle of a bear trap, so he’s immune. But the man who set the tap, Frank Cluck, put in a fail safe in case he found something other than bears in Africa: a mousetrap that bursts through the bird and pinches the lion’s nose. But he’s also immune from that killing him. Frank Cluck needs a new tactic.

The next trap is a lamb tied to a tree. The lion needs a name so I can stop calling him ‘the lion’ again. For fun, let’s also name the mouse he met. For a switch-up, the Mouse can be named Leo. Logically, the lion is now Scorpius. (Not that Musculus doesn’t have a nice ring to it.) He can tell this is another trap, and turns to leave, but the lamb is quite the salesman. Even though his signs are misleading; he is NOT mutton yet. Whatever, Scorpius is eventually convinced and grabs him.

Instant boxing glove to the face! Now dazed, Scorpius is at the mercy of Frank who hogties him. He takes his prize to the circus. Such a shame that Leo couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain. Scorpius, once a king over all he saw, has been reduced to mere entertainment for the masses. It’s really quite sad. Scorpius, though as awesome as the featured quote says, isn’t too tough to cry. And guess what? Leo is right outside his cage! I guess he witnessed everything after all! He gnaws a hole out for the big cat, and they flee into the night.

The original mouse ends her story here, before she has to relate the part where the two are hunted by the entire country, and ultimately shot before getting back home. Good thing things have worked in her favor, as this cat is also moved to tears. He releases her, and the title comes true if her “sucker!” is any indication. Good thing the cat can reuse the bread.

Favorite Part: The fact that the mouse laughs as she is mustard-ed for the sandwich. It’s darkly funny, and adorably messed up.

Personal Rating: 3

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Mother was a Rooster

“Being a mother is an awful headache.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Dave Detiege; Animation by George Grandpre, Keith Darling, Ted Bonnicksen, and Warren Batchelder; Layouts and Backgrounds by Robert Gribbroek; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn.  A Merrie Melody released on October 20, 1962.

According to Barnyard Dawg, things have gotten too quiet as of late. Well maybe this will teach you not to remain absent from the previous five Foghorn pictures. One of you has to be the spark, and one the gunpowder. Team effort, guys. His plan to rile things up requires a trip to the local ostrich farm. “Cawstone’s: whether you need meat, eggs or plumes, we hope you’ll always think of us first, in-between, and last.” He steals an egg and returns home to put his plan into action.

It’s simple, but aren’t all the best pranks? He’s going to place it near Foghorn. Hilarious! (Hilarious?) When he wakes, Foghorn is over the moon to find he’s a parent. B.D. is confused. And so am I. What did you want him to do? Scream? Ask if anyone has lost a baby? Try to eat it? You’re slipping pal. Maybe you should retire. He changes tactics once Foggy goes about warming it up; he’s gonna help hatch it. Woah! Hey! Put the mallet down! Is infanticide really worth having the last laugh? You should retire now!

Okay, he hits Foghorn. And this makes the egg hatch? Eh, who cares. Isn’t that chick adorable? Way cuter than last time. Foghorn agrees that his son is beautiful, and goes to show him off to all his friends. That means Mr. Dawg. (Foggy isn’t the easiest guy to get along with.) Barnyard is blunt and tells little Austin, (my name for him) to his face, that he is the ugliest chicken he ever saw. Good thing he’s not really a chicken, but still, a-hole. And Austin hides his head underground. No, he’s NOT scared; scared ostriches run. He’s ashamed.

Foghorn is rightfully pissed at this, telling the poor child that the jerk dog didn’t mean that. The jerk dog agrees: he meant that the kid’s been beaten by the ugly stick. Please shut your mouth! Yes, their are ugly people in the world, I myself am one, but you wait until their at least a teenager to tell them that! That way, puberty can either metamorphose them into splendor, or give them the opportunity to accept that part of themselves. And even then, you have to already be the bosomest of buddies. Do it this young, and the kid’ll be ruined for life.

Foghorn decides the dawg will pay, and I’m in total support. He places an anvil up a tree, with a bone dangling from it. Soon as it’s pulled, WHAMMO! But Austin gets there first. Maybe he’s hungry, (Foghorn never feeds him) maybe he’s trying to get in his tormentor’s good graces. Foggy runs over to let the mutt have his femur, and is klonked for his troubles. Just forget him and play a game. Football is popular this time of year. Play that.

Foghorn throws it, but it’s attached to a string. … Why is it attached to a string? It just makes Austin get reeled back in to your palm. Hasn’t he been abused enough? I really don’t follow that one. Foggy goes out for a pass, and Austin punts great and Foghorn gets sent sliding into a fence, his arm poking out through a hole in the bottom. This gives B.D. a chance to stick it full of dynamite, and Foghorn doesn’t realize he caught it until that happens. Standing up, he realizes its time for baseball practice, and tosses the ball back over. How do you like them karma apples?

Austin finally seems to be happy and enjoying life as kids should get to before the real world ruins living for them. But it just takes one more cruel word to get him hiding his head again. I think I need to prove a point about baby birds again:

Ost-rich in cuteness!

And what do your babies look like at that age, mr hound?

Moot point

Aw, crumbs! Still heckin’ precious. But maybe there’s a soulless monster out there who would disagree?

Well, Foghorn is the parent here, so he’s going to have to deal with this. One on one boxing sounds fair. But Barnyard isn’t, getting in as many early shots as he can. Since they’re playing by his rules, which are no rules, there will be no rules. Foggy jumps hard, and the loose plank flings B.D. into the water tower above. When he falls back down, physics flings Foggy back up. After some back and forth, the whole thing collapses on them. After the dust clears, both have their heads stuck in the ground. Austin speaks his first words, and they’re concerns about the fact everybody left him and he is now alone.

NO, he DOESN’T think hiding your head makes you invisible, he just hasn’t got object permanence yet. Or they died in that crash.

Favorite Part: The fact that Austin has such a powerful kick. Ostriches really do have those. Just wait until he grows up, Dawg. He’ll kick your skin off.

Personal Rating: 2. I’m sorry, but Barnyard was too d@mn mean in this one. Insulting an innocent babe just because he’s bitter about his prank failing to live up to expectations? You know he’s not a chicken anyway! Call him ugly to Foghorn’s face if you must, but leave him out of this. If Austin wasn’t so cute, and Dawg got off scot-free in the end, I’d be giving it a 1.

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I’m a Big Shot Now

‘NAME YER PISEN’

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Jack Carr and Riley Thompson; Music by Bernard Brown. A Merrie Melody released on April 11, 1936.

The place is the very creatively named Birdville. Not Aves Acres. Or Fowl Fields. Not even Ornithoid Oasis. It’s Birdville and the birds here are fairly human. They don’t wear pants because you never know when an egg needs to come out and can’t wait. The males just follow common courtesy. And whatever you do: don’t give any attention to the woodpecker streaker. That’s exactly what he wants. Why he can’t be more civilized is beyond me. Maybe woodpeckers are just screwy.

But life isn’t all birdbaths and seed bells here. There are the hangouts of the lowlifes. The thug thrushes, felon finches, and brute buntings. It’s that saloon over there. How low are the birds in there? They’ve stooped to stealing dance scenes from old pictures!  At least they bothered to disguise half of themselves. But that’s only distraction for the crimes against nature they commit. Look at that head plumage change color! No doubt the work of Cuttlefish Chickadee!

The worst of them all is the blue one there, Spike. He’s got all the signs of your classic hoodlum: french shirt, dandy cap, a face mask that sometimes doesn’t reach all the way around his head, and Spike for a moniker. He’s had the basic life: born a softie, vowed to be a toughie, made it. And his tail feathers change color. Or, are they just very iridescent and seem to flash when the light hits them right? He doesn’t fear anybirdy. There’s a cop patrolling just outside, occasionally losing his badge, and turns around at blink-and-miss speeds. And Spike yanks him in to rough him up, before downing five shots of hooch. Since I don’t want to be on his bad side, I’ll note his collar disappearance as the last flub.

This saloon also happens to be right across the way from the bank. Spike looks at it like he had no clue it was even there. This the first time he’s visited during daylight hours? He gets his boys together to clean the place out. He gets to wait outside like bosses do. They get away, with the birds in blue (who aren’t bluebirds or bluejays) on their tail feathers. Are they driving on a sidewalk? Are there humans in this world? Or is this the same continuity “Peace on Earth” takes place in once the birds got sick of the squirrel’s preachy H.S.? (Human sh*t.)

We don’t see how, but the crooks get away. A moment of silence for the cops who no doubt got birdshot. They’re front page headliners now! But forget that! W.B. is expanding? Tubby Millar bought a home? And Freleng won an award? This paper predicts the future! There’s not a more rational explanation! Reward is placed at 500 worms. Okay, so, do they eat their currency? If they don’t, doesn’t it rot fast? And I notice you aren’t mentioning exactly what worms they are. You’re giving out soil nematodes, aren’t you?

The robbers are found because they were stupid enough to leave their car outside their birdhouse. Which is making me question the scale of this cartoon even more. The cop who finds the place looks about tanager size, but his backup are clearly on par with Elmer. What is canon! And why didn’t you leave your car in the woods and fly the loot here? You can fly, can’t you? That woodpecker could fly. And where is the rest of Spike’s spooks? Did he leave them for dead in the car chase? He’s a big cock now.

Gunfire is exchanged, but the drop is gotten on Spike when they shoot out the floor from under him. No, he can’t fly, he drops right into their clutches. Then how did he get up there? Let me guess, someone said your name backwards minus the ‘s’ and you lost your flight. (If you get that, you know I have a great sense of humor.) Superior numbers take him down, and he ends up being placed in his proper habitat, because he’s a jailbird. He’s already reforming. Just wait until his release.

Favorite Part: When the cops first fire at Spike in his liar, he proves how much of a big shot he is. He calmly fires back, with an almost bored look on his face. But when they shoot his flipping coin, now- now it’s serious!

Personal Rating: 3.

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Naughty Neighbors

“They’re a feudi-f-feu-f-feu- a fightin’ again!”

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by I. Ellis; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 7, 1939.

Here goes post 777. Did I hit the jackpot? Let’s see… Porky, Clampett, Ear-worm… Looks like I’m french kissing like a bandit. And I’d have been past that number if I hadn’t had four posts mysteriously disappear. Why, yes I am still upset about that.

Humans are naturally high-strung, easy to offend creatures. If you want to see any who are the complete antithesis of the way they’re naturally supposed to be, you should visit “Kaintucky.” Why are the humans so peaceful there? Because they don’t exist there! Zing! But it still feels like home, since the two tribes that live there, the Martins and McCoys, spend their days endlessly punching, smashing, shooting, and probably killing one another. A guy could really get to like it here.

But what if, for the sake of argument, the heads of both sides actually fell in love? Could they ever hope to be, or would they be like the most famous couple whose love ended in tragedy: Sokka and Yue. (Spoilers if you’ve never been smart enough to watch a good contender for best TV series that’ll ever be created.) Well, the unfortunate COULD happen, but that’s only because of bad blood. What if there was a peace treaty? So it was decided. Petunia Pig Martin (sadly making her last theatrical appearance for the next 85 years) and Porky Pig McCoy officially call truce. (Petunia? Why do you allow that pig on your property to be nude? What’s her story?)

Now that things are sunshine and grayscale rainbows, the two can finally be wed. Or at least be sweethearts. Friends? Well, they can greet each other cordially. That’s still better than I’ve ever done with a girl. Other locals include Snuffy the chicken and (who I’m calling) Smith the duck, who just can’t believe things have managed to get so pleasant. In fact, they don’t think it’ll last. They’re clearly ready to scratch their trigger finger, but Porky reminds them that that isn’t how things are going to be anymore. (Although he gets the twos’ last names mixed up.)

Now then you two lovebirds, would you like to take a walk? The music’s suggesting it. They do and it’s one of the sweetest, cutest, most charming things I’ve ever seen. They seem genuinely happy together as they hold hands, dance, and sing their way around the countryside. It just goes to show if there’s someone for Porky, that doesn’t mean there’s someone for you. Get over yourself. But look at the rest of the folks. They’re trying their hardest to get along, but not really, as they were clearly meant to be enemies. The playful punches evolve into blunt instrument clubbings, then more shootouts. Just like the good old days.

Not quite Daffy lets the world know that things are back on! Better get more troops! Gives a great excuse to reuse the infant-try joke Clampett’s unit adores so much. If someone doesn’t interfere, things’ll end up like they did in “Make Mine Music”. And even people who know of that film don’t remember that! (It’s really good. Trust me. #RespectWillytheWhale.) Porky hoped he never had to use his secret weapon, but there appears to be no other alternative. He calls it a ‘Feud Pacifier’ which is the P.C. name for a frickin’ grenade. Extreme, but effective. That’s how we Americans do it!

Aw, quit your whining. He’s not killing anything except the peoples’ senses of self. After the explosion, everybody now plays friendly games, shares books, and dances around the maypole. If people won’t conform to your ways, make ’em. It’s the only way to have lasting friendships.

Favorite Part: Porky and Petunia’s duet. They really make a lovely couple, and I’m sad its taken her so long to get utilized again outside of comic books. Hopefully our next movie has at least given her more of a personality than “Porky’s Girlfriend.” (Not that I have a problem with that.)

Personal Rating: Depends on if you’re one of the sad types who are allergic to cute. You get a 2, and those of us who are secure about ourselves will be content with a 3.

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Buddy’s Bearcats

“Shucks, I’m all balled up.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Ben Clopton; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on June 23, 1934.

Me, I love mix ‘n match animals. With millions of species past and present, you have endless combinations. Some people are lazy and just make snake-lizards, hedgehog-mice and hummingbird-bluebirds. While people like me make spidertoads, molaye molayes, and jellysaurish rexes. Buddy has bearcats. Is that really the extent of your imagination, pal? Heck, nature could do that.

You’re about 45,000,000 years late, Buddy.

Anyone buying my fake outrage? Anyone reading at all? I wouldn’t be shocked if what little attendance evaporates whenever I’m featuring a Buddy feature.

The Bearcats is just the name of Buddy’s baseball team. That he plays on, rather than own. The apostrophe wasn’t my idea. They’re set to play against the Battling Bruisers today. And anybody who is anybody wants in. The ticket sellers are using this to their advantage, and charging husky-sized patrons for two seats. That’s just rude. I’m not surprised a few are getting in via underhanded means. Some are content to be peekers, peeping through fence holes; others are born to be sneakers, and slip in by making a hot-air balloon out of bagpipes. Finally putting them to good use.

The hot dogs are piping, the soda is sweet, and Buddy’s girlfriend is of course showing her support. You might not recognize Cookie today, as this was during that awkward phase where she was wearing a wig and thought nobody would notice. You know, there’s being polite by not bringing up the obvious, and there’s doing the right thing. Take it off. The game begins, and we’ve got commentary by celebrity guest, Joe E. Brown. Hope you like big mouths and loud noises. Hope you don’t mind if he eats your souls and joys.

Buddy pitches to the opponent with color-changing shoes. (His card is the most fun to collect.) Foul ball, I think. I don’t really know how baseball is played. And I bet you don’t either. When it’s Buddy’s turn to bat, he gets a good hit and manages to get to base by sliding with the roller skate on his tuckus. It’s okay is he cheats because he’s the hero. So maybe that’s just a different Cookie? Buddy also cheats while pitching. He uses a wind-up key to alter the ball’s trajectory. The batter slows it down with, I don’t know, whatever cartoon gardeners spray insects with. His pitch counts, but Buddy has Inspector Gadget on his team. Easy catch.

At the bottom of the ninth, it’s a tie game. If Buddy can hit this, he can win, and probably retire next year. That’s too much pressure, and he hides in the dugout until whichever Cookie that is coaxes him to grow some baseballs. There was never anything to fear, because the ball lets him hit it. Home run! The audience cheers by pelting Buddy and his gal with their chapeaus. Hats all, folks.

Favorite Part: One of the peekers is swaying back and forth at just the perfect height for a dachshund to stand beneath and get a literal butt scratch. Cure, creative, and maybe a little kinky. Congratulations if you discovered your new fetish.

Personal Rating: 2