Posts

Posted on

The Jet Cage

“And a cwash helmet comes with it!”

Written and Directed by Friz Freleng; Animation by Gerry Chiniquy, Art Leonardi, Virgil Ross, Lee Halpern, and Bob Matz; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Tom O’Loughlin; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc, June Foray; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn*. A Looney Tune released on September 22, 1962.

*Sadly, the poor guy wouldn’t live to finish the work. If you’ve watched these shorts as much as I have, you can tell when Bill Lava takes over. If you need an answer without the effort, it’s around the 2:30 mark.

Tweety is depressed. What does every bird wish for most of all? Why, to be able to fly underwater like the penguins do. (Well, the penguins don’t wish that. They wish for a less squatty skeleton.) But barring that, having space to actually fly isn’t too shabby either. Granny has the right idea to keep him cooped up. There are dangers outside. Thufferin’ dangers. Stalwart dangers that never stop waiting for the rare moment the cage is opened. They’ve got the patience.

As always, modern science and consumerism has the answer! The title cage! It’s a birdcage capable of jet-propelled flight which means small birds can enjoy the joy of flight without any of the actual exercise. But fresh air! And maybe the occasional insect snack slipping through the bars! And the best part: the human doesn’t have to do squat. And at $12.95, they’re pratically giving them away. I’ll take seven!

One purchase later, and Tweety is finally able to fulfill his destiny. Now, in real life, this would be a bad idea. No canary could pilot it, and they would just end up slammed against the bars and dead. And that’s reason 9,093 why real life sucks and fiction is much better. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who can’t differentiate between the two. Would make things more interesting, that’s for sure. I’d probably get more attention too.

Back in the cartoon, Sylvester watches the flying cage. What’s more annoying than something you can’t break into? Just that, but now it’s flying out of reach. He needs some sort of device that can net flying things out of the air. Entomologists use them. A what do you call it… butterfly snatcher? Moth obtainer? Grabby parts? I’m calling them grabby parts. Whatever you choose to call it manages to capture the prey, but it’s fairly strong. Sylvester gets dragged into a pole.

Tweety needs instructions on what to do in fog, so he lands to learn. Really sounds like something the human should handle. I mean, would you let your birdcage out in a thunderstorm? Sylvester would. Cooked by lightning meat is a taste sensation only the most extreme and lucky gourmets will ever get to taste. (It tastes crunchy. Now you know.) Wait! Tweety’s out in the open! Get him! Get him! Get… in the cage. Yeah, sure. I just hope you know how to fly this thing, putty-tat, because you waited too long to attack, and now you’re up in the atmosphere.

Tweety might be aware. I mean, it’d be hard not to be. He opens the bomb bay doors to jettison the unwanted load. If he wasn’t aware, he was either just testing them, or cleaning out the old newspapers. Two can play at the bombing game, and many more besides! Sylvester decides to just do it with a Nike bomb. And if you think he went on to found a shoe company, let me play wet blanket by reminding you of the Greek goddess of victory. She had wings.

It goes up, it goes down. Sylvester hides in a barrel, but it gets in just in time. He doesn’t notice until he’s already nailed himself inside for safety purposes. (Love the little detail of him straightening out a nail.) I think the simplest solution is going to be your best bet. Flying by yourself. You’re a feline, so we can call you a flion. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Flap some fans and gain some altitude. That cage isn’t really all that fast, so you’ll catch-up.

And he does. Tweety also employs the S.S. by pointing out that Sylvester has his paws full. How could he possibly grab him? Sylvester drops the fans. Sylvester drops. He’s lucky to get away with nothing worse than some broke bones. I think my spine would have snapped and my organs would have ruptured. That’s reason 9,094 why real life sucks. But Sylvester always has a plan. He’s going to join the U.S.A.F. May take a while, but he’ll be flying. Birds beware!

Favorite Part: The timing with the rocket was great. Coming in right as Sylvester was popping out to grab the barrel lid. Chef’s kiss! (Well, maybe the single ones don’t.)

Personal Rating:3.

And with that, my waiting for “Coyote Vs Acme” is finally about to pay off! Oh, it’s been a grueling wait, but will it be worth it? Come next week, I’ll be sharing my first thoughts. But you should also go see it yourself regardless. Make this a success! I’m commanding you! I might even throw in a “please” next time if there’s ever a next time.

Posted on

Go Away Stowaway

“Looksth a little rough out there.”

It’s nice to have a mouse around the ship.

Directed by Alex Lovy; Story by Cal Howard; Animation by Volus Jones, Ted Bonnicksen, LaVerne Harding, and Ed Solomon; Layouts by David Hanan and Lin Larson; Backgrounds by Bob Abrams; Film Editor: Hal Geer; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by William Lava. A Merrie Melody released on September 30, 1967.

As things get started, Speedy makes sure the camera is rolling before performing. That’s acting 101. Although he’s singing instead. His tune annoys Daffy who is also living wherever the two are. Let’s just assume they share rent, and that’s why Daffy only tells him to can it instead of trying to off him like usual. Speedy figures Daffy could use a vacation, and that’s a good excuse for Speedy to do the same. But Daffy would never do something Speedy suggested. There must be a sneakier way.

Speedy sprinkles soap chips off the roof. From inside, it looks like it’s snowing outside. That’s just mean. Don’t ever trick anyone into thinking it’s the worst time of the year. And for those of you who think you like Winter, no. What you really like is being able to survive through it. There’s no shame in admitting it’s worse than awful. Especially around here. I’m tirading because I didn’t like this short and hope that we can talk about the weather instead. It’s reasonably warm where I am right now. How about you?

Daffy falls for the trick and packs for the south. (What are the shirts for?) Unknowingly gaining a hitchhiker in Speedy. Before he leaves, Daffy bitterly tells the mouse he can now make all the sound he desires while the trip is in progress. Speedy asks where they’re going from the luggage, but Daffy isn’t inviting him. Someone has to keep the bills paid. It makes sense and is less insulting than “Speedy’s just coming for the sake of the plot.” Don’t you want to believe things are flowing organically?

Also, Daffy opted to take a cruise and a cheapwad like him isn’t paying for two tickets. But no sooner is he settled than he finds Speedy guitaring on the same deck. This is an easy fix: just alert the captain about the stowaway/vermin problem. Speedy flees the scene but he needn’t worry too much. The budget doesn’t actually allow any other characters to appear on screen, so Daffy has to give chase. He chases up the rigging, but Speedy cuts the line and Daffy ends up in a smokestack.

He doesn’t react to that though. What hurts him is the steam whistle blowing on him as he exits. I don’t doubt that would hurt too, but after the stack? He lands on the shuffleboard court, and Speedy sends a puck into his beak. I think it grew in size, too. But Daffy could have shrunk. I’m sure he got dehydrated going into a smokestack. Continuing the chase, Speedy gets him in the water where the barely animated sharks live. Daffy survives and decides he might as well stay in his room. He’s learning!

Speedy is hungry, and wants Daffy’s food. He gets the duck to lose his appetite with the classic “phony ocean swaying in front of the porthole” bit. But look! No cheese! A cartoon mouse who isn’t having cheese at least play a supporting role in dinner! That tends to be rare, so I thought I’d bring it up. Because I’m still not enjoying this picture and the next joke was so awful, that I dropped it down a point in rating. It’s worse than worse than awful. Yeah. That bad.

Daffy decides to pretend the ship is sinking, so Speedy will abandon it. He rings the alarm bell, and Speedy runs in circles shrieking. And Daffy just believes him. That’s… wow. That’s pathetic! Daffy isn’t that dumb! He could be tricked into thinking it was real! Or Speedy could have insulted his ego! (“Sorry Señor Duck, but you are too fat to fit in thees life boat.”) Or he could see Speedy flirting with a hottie in a lifeboat! Or… or… *primal scream*! Was anybody having fun making the cartoons at this point in time?

After the simplified shark chases him back on board, Daffy decides to just get rid of Speedy. He plans to drop an anchor on him from the crows nest. Speedy will never notice the target painted on the ground. (I, however, will notice Speedy’s nose changing color with every step he takes. Do you think the inkers ever did that on purpose just to see if they could get away with it?) Speedy walks off before things connect, and the anchor punches a hole in the ship. Going down?

Well, the ship has sunk and every human on board went with it. I can prove this: Daffy is left floating in the water (Speedy on his belly) but that shark isn’t bothering with him now. There’s so much more meat a fathom or two down that isn’t struggling. As to why Daffy isn’t pushing Speedy into the water? Oh goody! The cartoon is over!

Favorite Part: Blegh! I haven’t such a hard time deciding since “Tokio Jokio“. I’m still not ever sure I’ve made the right decision, but I’m choosing that Speedy didn’t once consider parting with Daffy. Maybe he sees the duck as his only friend? I mean, he’s not usually trying to mess with Daffy. It’s the other way around.

Personal Rating: 1. I wish we could have seen these two characters team up in the 50’s. It would at least look more polished.

Posted on

Nothing but the Tooth

“I- I could getcha into cah-cartoons.”

 

(Johnny Smith and) Pork-ahuntas

Directed by Arthur Davis; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by J.C. Melendez, Don Williams, John Carey, and Basil Davidovich; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on May 1, 1948.

1848 7/8. Sounds like the perfect year for a California gold rush! You want to work for a living? What are you, un-American? Porky’s taking a stab at it, which means all the cool person is doing it. And I do constantly worry about how the few people who acknowledge my existence view me. Let’s go west, pardners! Just as soon as I remember what kind of threats we’d likely face in this era.

Aw, yes. “Indians”. (Why did that term stick around so long? Just to keep the public from learning who was here first?) Porky has more balls than anyone who was born with three, so he defiantly (if a bit cautiously) enters their territory. And the arrows fly, destroying his wagons. They’re on their way and that means someone has to be the meat shield. If I volunteered, would Porky hug me or label me a kiss@$$? Either one is a win.

I laugh at Porky choosing his horse for the position. His tone suggests he was expecting the equine to applaud his idea, but the beast would rather the roles reverse. You’re running out of time, boys! Porky estimates a zillion of them, but in actuality, it’s one. (That was a very close answer, though. B+.) Or maybe it would be more polite to suggest it’s 1/2. It’s a nipper of a native that has his tomahawk  set on Porky’s scalp. We’ll call him Pee-Wee, simply because Porky does and I try to always do what he does.

P.W. has a simple request: lose the hat. You just can’t scalp a pig who’s wearing a hat. (If I knew anything about gifs, this is where I’d stick one of Homer Simpson saying “You can’t kill him if he’s wearing people clothes!”) Porky refuses and tells the runt to run along. Porky has got to save all his worrying energy for actual threats. But since P.W. is the only threat appearing in this picture, he’s going to show up plenty more.

Well, he’s got big feet, large ears, and and nose that would put an aardvark to shame, so he’s not going to get Porky the physical way. Since he’s not athletic or good looking, it’s a good thing he’s smart or he’d have no reason to exist. He hides in a stoplight, nabbing Porky’s hat when the pig stops. His lack of reaction time makes him miss. So he introduces Porky to his wife instead. She’s about twice his size and maybe five times as wide. Is there a toxic waste dump out here?

Per a friendly reminder, Porky takes his hat off when greeting a lady. Then slips a metal helmet on when P.W. takes another swing at him. If only there were any other prospector prospects out here. Then he might have a chance. So for his next plan, he sends Porky a gift. (The deliverer looks to be one of Maverick’s ancestors. It’s obviously not, but I don’t care.) Oh the possibilities it could contain. Each one requires Porky have a firearm  in hand. Let’s see what he got.

A feathered headdress! Is the little guy finally admitting Porky’s superiority and accepting his place as his b*tch? Or was he just using it as camouflage so he could get on Porky’s head? (Wait, that doesn’t count as a hat?) Porky flings him into a billboard. (‘Warren’ and ‘Foster’. I love it.) It’s like I’ve been telling ya, you can’t fool Porky’s brain. Try his heart. The little guy does, and he pulls out all the stops. That is a fine lookin’ lady! Even better is how Porky reacts.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard the guy be so horny! Look at him! Bedroom eyes, calling himself “Daddy”, going in for a kiss without consent. It’s out of character and hilarious! It’s a good thing she isn’t real or this could be a little disgusting. Still, it’s the closest Pee-Wee has gotten all day. And Porky is also big enough to admit this was his own mistake. He gets even by smacking the twerp’s tomahawk against a rock to get some good vibrations going, and hands it back to the owner. Shake it til you make it!… You’ll be shaking it forever.

He decides he’s just going to chase Porky across the country until the deed is done. If Porky wasn’t so merciful, he could just kill the pest. The next option is running. And paddling in a canoe after that. And after that? Going upstream with the salmon. And we don’t need any other steps because P.W. gets netted with the fish and sent to the canning factory. What does your wife see in you?

California at last! There’s gold and its mine. Porky sets to digging and Euweaka! Gold at wast! Specifically, Pee-Wee’s gold tooth. Would you look at that! Our title made some sense after all! This is why Davis ultimately lost his unit. You weren’t seeing shorts named “Emancipation Ducklamation“, “In a Pickle Wagon” or “Paint we got fun?” were you?

Favorite Part: It was horny Porky. He’s normally so well behaved around women.

Personal Rating: Poor aging leaves you stuck at three. Shame, as title aside, I would be tempted to give a four.

Posted on

Feud with a Dude

“Outta bed, you tadpoles!”

Directed by Alex Lovy; Story by Cal Howard; Animatin by Ted Bonnicksen, LaVerne Harding, Volus Jones, and Ed Solomon; Layouts by Bob Givens; Backgrounds by Bob Abrams; Film Editor: Hal Geer; Voice Characterization by Larry Storch; Musical Direction by William Lava. A Merrie Melody released on May 25, 1968.

Now the Hatfields and McCoys; they are feudin’ mountain boys and there’s only one thought rattling in their heads: Go and grab your gun and shoot, in the snoot or in the glute, doesn’t matter, just as long’s the other’s dead. At least they have the decency to greet each other. Only semi-politely because it’s harder to kill someone you’re friends with. And they got to kill each other real bad. Because politics. (You can always blame them.)

Age is no factor in this war. The elderly and infantile have both been shooting guns their entire respective lives. But there’s no need to say a lack of education led to this. These guys know their battlefield, and how to take advantage to gain the same. I like the guy who kicks ass, knowing it will kick harder and launch him to a higher vantage point. See, if it was me, I’d just be kissing it.

Flying above is Merlin. The magic mouse himself. He notes to Second Banana that the land below them is the Ozarks and that they are home to friendly hillbillies. Those are his words! I use the much more P.C. ‘hillwilliam’. And I guess that makes the bullets attacking your carpet, friendly fire? Down they go. Merlin has a parachute in his hat for situations like this, and they make it down safely. But will it stay safely?

It will not. Both leaders of the war want to know what side the mice are on. Since each mouse is facing a different man, both claim to be on the side of the one who’s asking. Usually a sound decision for keeping your blood inside you. But neither is buying it. Mice never take separate sides, so both get fired upon. Merlin, ever the peacemaker asks why the feudin’, boys. It’s recent enough that neither has forgotten: the Hatfield leader stole a hen, and the McCoy one took a pig. Revenge seemed like the next logical step.

Merlin has magic on his side and pulls both animals out of his hat, giving them back to their respective humans. (That is a good contender for cutest animated pig. Easily top ten. If it had a little birthday hat, it could make top three.) The men apologize to the other. They genuinely had no idea the mouse was the criminal mastermind. Oops. Can you do a disappearing trick? Those are the best because even if the crowd hates it, you won’t know.

The two are chased into a hen house. They claim to be chickens but Mister Hatfield can only believe that for so long. He says they’re are not chickens. And Merlin can live with that. But somebody has to be the chicken here, and since Merlin is a master hypnotist, it’s gonna the man. Now he scratches, pecks, cackles… come to think of it, I do all that too. But I didn’t need a hypnotist to get where I am today!

A swift kick in the rump is all that it takes to return him to normal. And that didn’t buy Merlin much time. Not that he’d get far anyway, there’s the rest of the recycled animated family to contend with. So he stuffs S.B. into his hat, (Which is probably how he found himself as Merlin’s assistant in the first place.) And bolts behind a fence. He conjures up  a rocket ship. The best that money can buy! And since this is the late sixties, that means the live-action variety.

The Hatfields and McCoys, they’re stumped feudin’ mountain boys. Not sure how Merlin got the goods he had. Cause they’re admitting to the stealin’. And once again (with feelin’), things are the back the way before and just as bad.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Merlin magics up a door that stands up on its own without any supports. Hatfield knocks on it and McCoy (who simply went past it) tells him to come in. It was stupid enough to be funny.

Personal Rating: 2. They should’ve used the hypnosis more. It’s a fun trope.

Posted on

Bosko’s Store

“Let’s make whoopy, Bosko.”

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Bob McKimson. A Looney Tune released on August 13, 1932.

Bosko owns a store now. You see, soda fountains are a dying trade. So are brick and mortar stores, but I don’t want to think that, much less tell him. I think we’re catching him on opening day, too. Look at all the grime he’s washing off his windows! Either he bought an old building, or he allows patrons to smoke inside the building. If you think the cigs are too costly, all the second-hand smoke is free!

One customer calls to get some bologna. Bosko is the kind of guy who sells only the real artisanal stuff. None of that rectum cancer in a tube they sell in my local delis. He couldn’t afford a store and a deli slicer, so he uses an electric fan to slice the meat. It gives his establishment a distinct aroma of sheep intestines. You’re hungry now, I can tell. And now: for something the opposite of completely different! Probably that same dachshund who robbed Bosko before enters the store. And he’s hungry, I can tell!

He pops the slices into his gullet. You could think that the pile disappeared some since Bosko began, but I say he just moved on to the next tube. Nobody would just buy one sliced loaf. And I’ve got other goofs to mention. Repeat offenders don’t get a chance to pay their dues, so Bosko plans to make sausages out of this hound. In its haste to get away, it runs into the electric fan and is shredded back into its whole self. Pain amuses Bosko, so the dog can live if he isn’t going to suffer from heavy internal bleeding.

Well folks, you know what that means: Bosko will now do a dance. So excited is he, he jumps into place before the background aligns. He’s literally walking on air. Still, he’s got a job to do, so he grabs a duster for some dusting. Got to dust the magic eggs while you can. Once they’re off camera, there’s no guarantee they’re coming back. If you buy them, don’t put them in your trunk. And smash cut to Mickey clone #57. I was too dumb to realize he’s not in the store. I can only assume it’s somebody else’s home as that phone isn’t to his scale.

He’s placing an order, and I’m lying to your face. He was just crank calling Bosko. Probably still bitter about that dunking from the soda fountain. Mice deserve respect because between Disney and Pokémon, I’m pretty sure they already rule the world. And now it’s time to sweep the storefront. You can make a game out of it by using your broom as a dance partner. It’s a sad game, but that’s what I’d expect out of a great depression.

Here comes Honey and Wilber. And-… oh, crud biscuits! Only now am I realizing that he’s managed to reach the “5-appearance tier”. Never thought I’d have to do this again…

Wilber, but I will not.

Wilber is a cat. He’s a kid. He spends most of his time annoying Bosko and by extension, me. No idea who his parents are. I like to imagine that Julius from the “Alice Comedies” would have joined Oswald the Lucky Rabbit in loathing Mickey, but then got a good look at the mouse and started wondering how his arms would feel wrapped around his shoulders and wished the stork would give them a baby and that would win Mickey’s love. Wilber doesn’t give me much to discuss, so I made dumb stuff up instead.

So yeah, Honey and Wilber. One’s as lovable as always and one’s as “lovable” as always. I’m really starting to wonder about your relation to this kid, Hons. Is he your adoptive child? Nephew? Pet? Lunch? Or do you just rent him so Bosko can warm up to the idea of having children with you someday? It’s not going to work. While you two were frolicking to street piano music, Wilber helped himself to some of Bosko’s bananas. No intention of paying whatsoever. When confronted, he squirts some berry in Bosko’s eyes, and loses his tail for a half second.

The banana blast sends Bosko reeling around the room and ends with him stuck in a molasses spill. (Great sound effects here! Sounds sticky and soupy.) Wilber tries to climb to safety, but falls into a meat grinder. Rather than put him out of our misery, it just splits him up into more but mini of himself. Pull yourself together, if you please. I barely enjoy the one. Bosko frees himself by leaving his shoes behind, so Wilber runs some barbed wire against his crotch. Hope the brat was worth it, Honey. No children coming out of that talk-ink kid.

Favorite Part: When dancing with the broom, it tries to make sure Bosko doesn’t put his hands on “her” rear.

Personal Rating: 3.

And now for this trailer in case you’ve still yet to see it:

Using footage from his old pictures: nice. A human using toon standard white gloves to manipulate the world: mega awesome. And I know I spy Gossamar, but could that crowd also be containing Hubie, Hugo, Playboy and Nelly? Be still my Chuck loving fanboy soul! If they could get the Dot and the Line to also cameo, I think my heart, gallbladder and parathyroid might simultaneously stop!

(I kid. I had that last one removed a decade ago.)

 

Posted on

Bell Hoppy

“This calls for a special meetin’ of the brotherhood.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Charles McKimson, Herman Cohen, Rod Scribner, and Phil DeLara; Layouts by Robert Givens; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on April 17, 1954.

The club, I mean, the club that any cat would want to be a part of is the LOYAL ORdeR OF ALLey CATƧ MOUƧING and CHowDeR CLuB. You will die and go to flavor heaven upon tasting their bunting bisque. But you won’t ever get that chance because they’re very particular about inducting new members. Sylvester has been denied and since you’re not better than him, you’ll have to settle for the club next door. “The not worthies.”

This isn’t the first denied application Sylvester has gotten. And constant rejections are starting to affect his speaking. He sounds as wistfully longing as a teen girl hoping that Bradley will ask her to the prom. Those cats are just the swellest swells that ever swelled. They hunt and eat. Maybe grab some tail on weekends. Hey, wait a minute. Are female felines banned? Are mountain lions banned? I’m guessing the one I’m petting right now says otherwise.

Meanwhile at Acme Rare Animal Importing Co., (So many kinds of illegal. Maybe just one, actually.) a man from the zoo has come to collect a baby kangaroo. The joey escapes and nobody sounds like they’re trying very hard to contain him. Sure, he’s cute now, but he’ll do you one. Maybe two, actually. And if he grows, then you’ll really be screwed. Show me a human who can stand up to a full grown boomer and I’ll scrape them off the ground.

The leader of the club that isn’t made for you or me finds the little guy whilst hunting for mice. This is just great, because this is definitely a giant mouse in front of him, and that would make an excellent banquet. And plenty left over to make into a kangaroux. (They’ll still call it ‘mouse’ though.) Turns out, he’s not any better at catching Hippety than Sylvester is, and is flung into the garbage. He needs minions, and it just so happens that he doesn’t lack lackeys.

His plan goes like this: stick a bell on the creature to hear it approach, then the whole lot of them can attack at once. Not a bad idea in all honesty. But while his subordinates will believe his crazy story without question, not one of them has the balls to put the bell on the beast. Well, welcome to your lucky day, because Sylvester is returning to ask again for admittance. Opinions tend to change on an hourly basis. The poo bah has gotten an idea!

Yeah, Sylvester can join. Just has to pass the initiation. Find a mouse big enough to put a bell around the neck of. I hope you’re willing to pay up should he succeed, since if he doesn’t you still don’t have any other willing participants. Sylvester will do anything to join, and that includes stuff that sounds implausible. But he finds Hippety and sees a membership in his future. Maybe he’ll get a hat too!

Hippety doesn’t want to be belled. Or, he doesn’t understand what Sylvester is doing, but finds the bell fun to dodge. Beating up cats is also fun, and Sylvester is flung away, with the bell ending up around his own neck. The club jumps him and gives him such a thrashing. You’d think they’d be glad to make this mistake, but they seem upset. It’s hard to enjoy anything you like doing when you’re hungry. Hence why I always post after I eat dinner.

Sylvester hides in a cart to surprise the “mouse”, but the target just bumps it and it rolls away. Clanging because it too, has bells on it. Sylvester is pummeled again. He tries trapping Hippety in a junkyard, but the little guy just bounces him off a plank placed like a see-saw. See? Yeah, he saw. In fact, Sylvester drops down to do the same in reverse. Turns out a baby kangaroo weighs more than your average alley feline, and Sylvester is flung near a streetlight. Hey, it sounds similar to the be-

He may not always use it to its fullest, but Sylvester does have a brain buried in that head of his. And it’s time to put it to work. He sets up a mirror in front of a missing fence post, where Hippety will see it. He does. He doesn’t stop, but it’s all part of the plan. Now that he’s seen his reflection, he won’t immediately flee or fight when Sylvester take the role of reflection at the next missing post. Hippety does notice things have changed. Or maybe he’s changed. Something has changed, and he stops to examine things.

Sylvester does an excellent job matching movements. I think Hippety is convinced that this is just how things are going to look from now on. When Sylvester puts the bell around his own neck, Hippety grabs it for himself seeing as how he’s the original. Sylvester has succeeded. I can’t believe I’m getting to type such a sentence, but here we are. Really puts the cat in cathartic. And the cat in Hippety. His pupils have gone vertical, so the change has already begun. Better hurry before you club members unknowingly commit cannibalism.

Hippety follows Sylvester and just so happens to run across the guy from the zoo. He knew waiting around for the problem to solve itself was the American way. Besides, now PETA can’t claim that the animal didn’t want to be in captivity. Hippety is having fun with the bell and rings it loud for all to hear. Like all the members of the club, perhaps? They jump in the line of a speeding vehicle. The club is no more?

Nah. Sylvester did technically succeed in his test, so he’s in. What’s more, they need him to keep the club alive. Their little mishap has landed them all in multiple casts. Hurtin’ but humbled. And unable to object to Sylvester naming himself as the new leader. I can’t believe how well things worked out for everyone! (And that’s coming from someone who used to believe ‘X’ was the sixth vowel.)

Favorite Part: You can blink and miss it, but I’d rather you didn’t. It’s the look on the club’s faces as their 45 lives pass before their eyes. Good think chowder can be slurped with a broken jaw.

Personal Rating: 3

Posted on

Foxy by Proxy

“I’ve seen better heads on a glass of root beer.”

 

A rabbit as a fox in a fix.

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Virgil Ross, Arthur Davis, Manuel Perez, and Ken Champin; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on February 23, 1952.

After swearing you’re having deja-vu, you’ll be having deja-vu. The opening scene has just been swiped from another cartoon. You’ll swear you’re having deja-vu! It’s made even worse by the rear being brought up by a pudgy hound. We might as well call him Lenny because if we’re going to rip off Tex’s stuff, he’d want us to do as much as we can.

Explanation:

That’s taking the ‘L’.

We do have a fun visual with the dogs being a canine tsunami. Their surging brings them to Bugs’s place, and he is nearly stampeded. Bugs doesn’t think too fondly of fox hunting. You’d think he’d be all for humans decreasing the numbers of one of his predators, but Bugs is top of the food chain. Lenny; slow of mind, slow of foot, asks Bugs where they went. Surprisingly, Bugs gives genuine directions. Lenny just shoves him aside. Fox caudectomy is the peak of entertainment!

Bugs decides to have some fun with his fur-suit old Halloween costume. But I think it’s just a boneless fox that Bugs deboned himself. Watch the eyes. They change. He gets the hounds on his trail, before ducking behind a tree. What fun! Lenny; slow of mind, slow of foot, (you’ll swear you’re having deja-vu.) comes up to ask where the dogs went. And I mean slow of mind. You see, Bugs’s hat is on backwards, facing the dog. When Bugs turns his actual head around, thus turning the hat around too, Lenny asks where the guy he was talking to went.

Bugs humors him and lets Lenny ask who he’s comfortable talking to. He sends the lug off, knowing he’s going to catch on soon. He does and one-eighties. Paydirt! By which I mean fox tracks! By which I mean, I’m a better tracker than he is because I can tell you those aren’t fox tracks. I don’t mean they’re just stamps Bugs left for him, I mean they don’t resemble the tracks of Vulpes vulpes. I demand it be accurate for your sake. I don’t want you to embarrass yourself by stating foxes have two toes on each foot in public.

I won’t deny the next tracks he identifies: train. But screw that! The fox is right there by the entrance to a tunnel. Knowing the dog’s limited I.Q., Bugs asks if he could even identify a fox. It is rather tricky. Sometimes they’re pilots, sometimes they wear socks, and sometimes they’re on fire. But this is what Lenny was bred for. He knows what a fox looks like, and Bugs looks like what a fox looks like. Looks like he’s a fox!

But wait just a minute! Objection, if you will. This dog was following train tracks. Ergo, isn’t he looking for a train? There’s one just inside this tunnel. That is flawless logic. Flogic. Lenny darts in and gets his prize. You know, it’s beautiful to see someone’s reason for existing come to fruition. Of course, now he has to find a new one or be put down. I like watching smiles slide off faces. There’s now only one matter of unfinished business: all the other dogs.

They’re a bit more disciplined and will need some doing to lose. Bugs goes through streams, through trees, through and through and winds up right in front of the angry hounds. Well, might as well come clean. He reveals himself to be a rabbit. The dogs decide they’re chasing rabbits. Don’t you hate it when cartoons suddenly have realistic outcomes? Bugs has to utilize the “luring chasers into a log and angling it off a cliff” bit. Always works. I hope the dogs are okay. I hope your dog is doing okay too.

Bugs confidently states that while the dogs could get a fox’s tail, they’d never get a rabbit’s. That’s your cue Lenny! Before Bugs can react, Lenny runs home the sole victor in today’s game. The humans disappeared long ago though, so I don’t know who’s going to reward him. Bugs decides to take things in stride. After all, Lenny only got the hair of a hare. Add shaved-tail Bugs to the list of cursed images, please.

Favorite Part: Just those dog masses. Look at them! They’re just dogs being dogs. Happy to have air in their lungs, not afraid of being seen as goofy, enjoying life. It’s make me glad that at least one species can.

Personal Rating: 3.

Posted on

Little Beau Pepé

“A pitiful case, am I not?”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Lloyd Vaughan, Ben Washam, Ken Harris, and Phil Monore; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek. Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 29, 1952.

Welcom to Le Desért Sahára! Oh, pardon their French. That translates to “The Desert Desert”. Where you can be sure to find three things in a cartoon: sand, a foreign legion outpost, and hot sand. Item 2 on the checklist is right over there. And it’s got a great array of troops. There’s Monocle, Eye-patch, Noselookslikeadragon’stail, and Magic Stubble. They’re hideous, but that’s okay. The people who end up here are the unloved ones who were never going to be anything but alone. (That’s me at the end there.)

Fittingly, the mascot is an animal that wouldn’t love anyone even if they were sexy: a femme pusseé cat. Plus, when you’re stationed in the world’s biggest litter box, they’ll come to you. In the meantime, there’s lots to do. That ladder isn’t going to paint itself. And Mel’s paint is the perfect color. It will reflect heat, and make gripping it less painful. And while it look compact, this fort always has room for one more. Uncle Francois loves all his nephews.

Enter our titular beau. He’s finally had enough of ladies running away from him, so has come to enlist to forget. Sadly, the commander, and every other human for that matter, flee before we can learn his social security number. I was going to use that information for innocent things, officer readers! Pepé is a mite confused at first, but quickly deduces that he has already risen to such a rank as post defender. I believe he could chase any threats away.

As he patrols, the mascot gets up for her daily ladder rub. It’s a cat thing, I’m sure. But she doesn’t look so cat like to me anymore. Thanks to Mel’s paint being the kind that takes 24 hrs. to dry, it’s still wet. And coating her fur in such a way as to suggest a skunk’s pelt. And Pepé is an addict, so he wasn’t going to make it going cold turkey anyhow. His best bet would be to wait a few decades, until women are allowed to be a part of the armed forces, then get enlisted in a mixed group. Skunks can live that long!

He relapses and scoops her up. She wants no part of this? I shan’t believe it! Pepé has wonderful genes to pass on! Good thing he’s the expert here, and can explain what’s going on. She needs to touch-up her make-up. Maybe make sure her pheromones are in good wafting order, groom a little, buy a bathing suit. Pepé can wait for the first one, but he’s been alone too long. If she’s not in his arms every second, his paranoia is going to suggest that she’s seeing other skunks. Hinky has power! Good looks get eaten alive by that!

Considering she didn’t even make it up the stairs, I think Pepé was right on the money. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy a good game of tag? He cheats and stays still, so she has to run back down and hide in a barrel. The same one Pepé was preparing the drinks in. As a teetotaler, she flees again and ventures out into the dunes. She’s not a meerkat; only a mere cat, and hardly gets anywhere before the heat starts driving her to exhaustion. Pepe is in his element seeing as how he’s a skink. (There’s no ‘I’ in ‘skunk’.)

Penelope manages to get to the nearest oasis. And it’s no mirage! And since the very appearance of a cat makes everyone vacate, it’s all hers. She heads for the life juice, but Pepé meets her there. Fear and exhaustion finally tag-team her into submission, and down she goes. Pepé gets her into the prettiest tent. Yet, she’s still out cold. How can that be when the man of her dreams isn’t even in them? This is going to require some stimulants. Smelling salts aren’t nearly so pleasant, what she needs is a good nose of perfume. This tent is well stocked.

Pepé mixes a little of each one together, and I think he concocted a winner! Green scents are nauseating, but pink ones are arousing! You’d think the delicious ones would have a more appealing hue than clear, but that’s neither here nor there, or even yonder. Pepé gives a good spritz, and plays some music to really seal the deal. His charms work like a charm and the lady awakens with hearts as her pupils. Further lending credence to my theory that the only problem with Pepe is that he’s a skunk! A lack of con-scent never played any part in things!

Sadly, Pepé is no different than any other males. He brags about being Chuck’s gift to ladies, but when an actual woman shows interest, he curls up in his shell. Unless she’s close enough to grab him. Then he flees. It’s a wonder any race continues to thrive.

Favorite Part: The look on Penelope’s face when one of the troops gives her a back scratch. That’s a look of pure contentment. You want inner peace? Find someone willing to do the same to you.

Personal Rating: 3. I’m still a staunch Pepé defender. I hope he’s in Coyote Vs. Acme. Ooh! And maybe they could reference his debut by making the French casanova just a character he plays on screen!

Posted on

Bosko’s Soda Fountain

“Where’s my ice cream cone?”

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Rollin Hamilton. Music by Frank Marsales. A Looney Tune released on November 14, 1931.

I’ve always wanted to visit an old fashioned soda fountain. Sounds delicious, cozy, friendly, and probably not at all what I’m expecting. Dreams: never accomplish, never disappointed. But with Bosko in charge, I bet it’d still be pretty great. He uses real dairy, soda, and syrup in his concoctions. Mickey Clone 154 says you’ll like them and you should always trust a cartoons opinion over your own. You should, I said.

Smash cut to a hippo! She’s on her way to the shop, of course. The treats on hand or tempting, but the real joy is the fact she has a a history with Bosko. (Foxy too, actually.) She’s his old school teacher, Miss Pitty. Or maybe he’s saying “Bitty”. (Pitty if I’m wrong.) Now I will attempt to relate what they say after that. Pitty: Give me a *hee-hee-hee* a lover’s delight! *huh-huh-huh*” Bosko: “Oh.” See, we all thought he was going to say “okay”. But that wily Bosko keeps us guessing.

Hippos don’t really have sweat glands. Sure, she could secrete some hipposudoric acid in the sun, but in here she’ll just turn on the fan to keep cool. Now, what’s in a lover’s delight? Looks like club soda, a magically appearing banana, and the air that gets mixed in with a beater. Clone 154 finds that the peak of comedy. Bosko smiles very genuinely back at him. That mouse is about to be tortured, isn’t he?

Bosko decides to use his head as the new whisk. But for health reasons, he’s going to send the rodent’s shoes to the universe between spaces with his mind. Order up! Before Pitty can slurp a single slupp, the fan blows the mess all over her face. Clearly, this is all the fault of the proprietor. She gives him an earful, blows a raspberry, and takes her business elsewhere. (Bosko’s keeping her parasol.) He laughs the whole thing off. It’s just like grade school all over again! In his merriment he dances, and reveals he keeps birds in his cash register. For health reasons.

Any good purveyor of foodstuffs sells more than what their place advertises. Bosko has sandwiches. Although, I prefer to use past tense seeing as a dog came in and ate every one. Bosko is upset, but fair and decides the dog can pay off his debt. The entry level position is being Bosko’s accordion. Come for the lover’s delights, stay for the animal abuse. And smash cut to Honey and Wilber making his first appearance. Like always, she’s trying to educate him on the fine art of playing a musical instrument. Like most musicians, he prefers ice cream to practicing. (And he wears one white glove. I mean paw.)

He’s willing to make a deal: Honey gets him the good, and he’ll behave the same way. Sounds fair. And her boyfriend will probably give her a discount. It’s about time for that dog’s break anyhow. (Though he’s starting to embrace his new life.) The phone rings, the cel flips 180 degrees for a frame, and Honey put on some lipstick to help her place her order. Bosko delivers too. And he banishes his hat to the same realm as the shoes in favor of his usual derby. He was clocking out for the day, I’m sure.

Honey didn’t give any specifics, so it was best to play it safe with the most basic flavor available: vanilly. Wilber demonstrates why condoms were invented and complains about getting the wrong flavor. (Do you also hate chicken, you little expectoration?) He reneges the deal, and spits the cream in Bosko’s face. P.o’ed, Bosko gives chase. (Nice overhead shot of the stairwell.) Wilber swings off the clock Honey keeps in front of her bedroom door, and nails Bosko in the Honey kisser.

This gives Wilber the chance to slide down the banister, knowing Bosko will try the same. Wilber takes the bottom half away, and the Bosko takes many sticks to the dick, and a ball to the balls. Landing on a serving cart, he takes a ride that ends with him in Honey’s washtub. At least he got her underwear on his head. Guys in relationships want that, right?

Favorite Part: The dog failing to act innocent when Bosko catches him by the empty sandwich platter. Gotta love how he figures his best bet is to just exit.

Personal Rating: 3. I don’t know. I had fun with it.

Posted on

Wacky Wildlife

“HEY, MABEL! COME ON OUT!”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Animation by Virgil Ross; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on November 9, 1940.

Why, that’s my favorite kind of wildlife! Margarineflies, marmaladefishes, jarnose dolphins… I could go on. Sounds like we’ve got another of Avery’s spot-gag shorts. Here’s hoping it lands on the high end of the wildlife scale. More Wagyu tapir and less dead zorilla.

Look! A deer! A fawn they call it despite having no spots. The script says it will drink daintily, and it does not. The best gags are always simple opposites. Seriously, I’ve never gagged louder. Next. A snake with hypnosis powers. Where did this idea come from? Rudyard Kipling? It half works on its bird prey. The avian stopping just short of the mouth and calling us the crazy ones for thinking he’d do it. The serpent just blinking confusedly. Yes, a blinking snake. Now that’s wacky!

Really lame cat joke! The bobcat and the tomcat are named Bob and Tom respectively. See, if humor was what you wanted, you would have switched their names. There is a bit of a cute bit with a pack rat. He takes an egg, leaving an acorn as payment. Good deal. We could always use more trees. Once back, he trades his new egg for that acorn. Repeat. A little slow paced. But fooled me at first. Thought he was going to have a funny reason for switching back.

The Everglades have alligators, and one looks to be inspiration for Donkey Kong’s Klaptraps. You all know the punchline: he’s been sick. And I will be too if I hear it again. I can’t do better, but I can do different. Narrator: “Say, what in the world happened to you?” Alligator: *points to some gator-skin luggage*. Now, to a fairly close relative of his, a passerine scolding her chick. He tells her to speak English if she has something to say. Not bad, but her reaction is a bit much. I think we could tell a joke was told, thanks.

Now, unfunny, untrue pig propaganda! The ignoramus narrator calling a beautiful boar a “dirty, muddy, sloppy mess.” And the porcine agrees deadpan. Now listen here young man! Just because society won’t see your inner beauty, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Do as I say and not as I do, because pigs are better than people. I’ve never felt judged by them. And the next joke I think is okay, but I’m not too sure which punchline is correct.

Goes like this: some mallards have just landed on the water in front of  a hunter. He shoots and three fly off, but not the last one. He’s got a U.S. flag on his wings. Is the hunter not going to shoot one of his own? Or is the duck not a coward? While I wait for an answer you guys will never give me, we look at probably the worst joke in the picture. A termite has chewed through a tree. And he shouts timber. What! Termites don’t speak English! That’s almost as wacky as a bobcat named Bob!

Give the short another point for the cowboy bit. I was sure the punchline was going to be him revealed to be riding a mechanical horse; not the horse patting its legs to make galloping noises. Take that point away for the camel bit. Remember last June? Tex’s unit did this exact same joke, just at the other temperature extreme. I’m so disappointed that I’m going to ruin the joke. YES, camels can get thirsty! Any animal would if they were in a desert long enough!

Let’s finale with another repeat tweaked slightly. A (wacky) wild animal that lives up to its name. A dog, rather than a cat. The reason? Loggers cut down trees. Much more realistic. Therefore, nowhere near as funny as last time. So was it hard for me to pick a

Favorite Part: Nah. That quote belonged to a bit that got a genuine smile out of me. It’s a coyote calling to his mate. Him panting at the end makes it work just enough for perverted minds. (Although, as a zoologist, I see it as a natural and beautiful pastime.)

Personal Rating: 2. I love animals too much to get too mad. And hey, there were a few segments that were decent fun.