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Little Dutch Plate

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Paul Smith and Robert Clampett; Music by Norman Spencer. A Merrie Melody released on October 19, 1935.

I should really love this one. After all, my ancestry is Dutch. Except, I never really cared to learn about my culture, so I have no obligations to love anything other than the chocolates. And that’s because chocolate. Do you need another reason?

In a Dutch kitchen, the celebrity couple that everybody knows is the saltshaker and one of the plate illustrations. Two completely different art mediums, but they exist in a third one, so it could still work out. Without actual names, they had to settle for the first things I came up with. I like Salty and Illa. They’re a cute couple because the cartoon states it, but they also do a good job of completing one another. Without her, he’d feel empty inside; and without him, she’d feel flat.

This isn’t one of those “I long to feel my beloved’s hand but can’t, physically” situations. She can emerge from her plate anytime she wishes so they can dance and butt bump. That’s true love for a couple that are both ceramic. Although, I can’t help but wonder if there was a pepper shaker once. Salty may have loved her, but things didn’t work out. (Perhaps she was too spicy for him.) And Illa was the one to dry his Salty tears. Probably the only one who could. The plate drawings singing our title song don’t leave their plates. If they fancy a walk, they’ll have to settle for a roll.

Out of the garbage comes Billy Blech, the empty vinegar bottle. He isn’t going to let the humans who don’t exist on screen decide when he’s done living. But it didn’t make him bitter. He’s always been that way! (The jokes are too easy, and I wish life was as well.) Using a mousetrap to fling himself up to the counter, (That’s brilliant.) he witnesses Salty stick Illa into a mill-shaped clock. This works in his favor because he owns the mortgage on it. The humans are just figureheads in the kitchen kingdom.

So what do you think? Is the plate just Illa’s day job? She really seems to like this clock a whole lot more. Gets really upset when Blech, tells her to pay or vacate. Unless she’s rather marry him, of course. Ew, no. Confidentially, he stinks. There’s still a half-hour of time, so Salty offers to get the dough. Not surprisingly not making a pastry pun in a kitchen. We all know what would happen if it was to be literal.

Like all kitchens, this one has a piggy bank on its shelf. Maybe if I wish hard enough, it will be alive too. Whoops. I forgot that I only want easy things. It doesn’t move. It does have money inside, but though it may be a quarter (when compared to Salty’s height.) it’s still only worth one cent. Wait, how does Blech intend to carry all that he’s demanding? He’s only got a strong smell. (Ah, that’s the ease I want constantly.)

Salty (and his changing stomach label too) have a new idea to get the cash. Every member of this household has dentures because chocolate, and Pa’s addiction is so bad that even his false teeth have gold fillings. That’s what I’d call a million dollar smile, but the mortgage isn’t that high. We’ll just need the gold. Utilizing the bag of fireworks all Dutch kitchens have, Salty blasts out the goods.

Unfortunately ,time’s up, but the figure carved into the clock hits the cuckoo into submission. He’s attracted to that other clock, so he sets the time back another half-hour. Wait, aren’t you two part of the same being? Is this arguing with your conscience, or trying to suppress an erection? Well anyway, Blech has decided he might as well abduct Illa and abscond with her into a third clock. Time is up! It’s also down and all around. Time for the ultimate choice: marriage, yes or no. Her answer hasn’t changed. Salty is the man for her and she’ll never abandon him.

Blech decides to just sawmill her with one of the gears. (Clever idea.) Her screams alert Salty to her wherabouts, so he rushes to the rescue. Good thing he has a bag of gold as a weapon. Blech never stood a chance. Salty rescues his lady just in time. Those were some very frightened screams, to boot. Kudos to voice acting! But there’s still Blech to deal with. (And his briefly disappearing label too.) Salty tried the lawful way; it didn’t work. Go to town!

He punches Blech’s head off. Try to remember he’s a bottle, but it’s still messed up enough to be cycle back to hilarity. The body stumbles about for a replacement, and luckily for him, a different bottle has a head shaped top. And the body part doesn’t look like a human body, so it’s not just a decap’ recap. Even better, this new head is sexy. Salty, still salty, isn’t going to let that sway him. Here comes another punch.

Illa stops him. Turns out, she’s a bickle fitch, and opts for the visually pleasing guy as opposed to the one who can fight, went out of his way to help her, and isn’t considered garbage by the homeowners. And to further the misery, the cuckoo got tired of getting clocked, so he shoots his assailant. Moral of the story: salty people (and those who defend them) will never be happy.

Favorite Part: I may be reading this bit wrong, but the first time the cuckoo tries to call noon happened so fast, I thought it was just trolling. I choose to believe it.

Personal Rating: 1. Look, Illa can make her own decisions, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them. Maybe if they had shown that Blech was also now a perfect gentleman and abhorred violence, and Salty didn’t give a crap, could I support this. Probably could have fit it in if they cut the dancing and the shortened the beginning establishing shots. I just can’t stand when romantic partners leave for shallow reasons.

 

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Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land

♪”You can’t fool us, we know that you’re a man.”♪

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Paul Smith; Music by Frank Marsales. A Merrie Melody released on November 28, 1931.

Piggy, Piggy, Piggy. What are we going to do with you? You’re almost as blatant a Mickey clone as Foxy. Losing the pants could help, but it’ll be a normal day in hell before we allow a pants-less pig to headline our cartoons. Look, we’ll give you one more chance. Just promise us three things? First, try not to rip off Disney anymore than you already do. Second, don’t utilize too much hurtful racial stereotyping. We’d hate to have to censor this short completely in the future. And lastly, don’t make men wince and clutch their genitals. That should be the easiest one. Do any of that, and you’re bologna.

Nothing could make a night more pleasant and relaxing that being on a riverboat. We call it the Steamboat Piggy, after the captain. There’s plenty of entertainment on board. They’re all animals, but they sound African American, so they don’t count as guests onboard. S’good music though. You hear it, and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to hallelujah land. We’re coming up on the closest landing, so if anyone is planning on joining us, you better he here or near. If we stop anywhere too long, the scent following that outhouse we’re pulling will catch up to us.

Fluffy is on her way, courtesy of Uncle Tom. He may not look too offensive, but if you get the reference, he kind of is. Doesn’t help that he’s not invited, isn’t paid, and can vanish from existence. But don’t let that ruin Fluffy’s trip. She is on a first base basis with the captain, so she gets to join him on the top deck. Watch him dance! Those musicians really know how to play! And raid Bosko’s wardrobe! But merriment melodies will have to cease as Fluffy has a premonition. In about half a second, Piggy is going to fall overboard.

Piggy falls overboard. He’s smacked a bit by the paddle-wheel, and lands in the river. At least there’s the most miserable excuse for an island nearby. It’s not called that because of the size, but because it’s not an island. It’s a crocodilian. Given the area, probably an alligator. Just one that was drawn more resembling a croc. Because why not suggest they all look the same? I didn’t think we were racist enough. Oh yeah, it doesn’t like being disturbed. It attacks the free pork dinner.

Piggy manages to get away in a pretty brilliant fashion. He hops aboard a log, attaches the leaves it had to his own tail, than pushes his belly button. Now his tail can make like a propeller and he gets away. Bumping into a rock flings him back up to Fluffy and allows him to finish his dance. Just like he never left. But you know, I feel bad for Uncle Tom. Why couldn’t he join us. He’s a good guy. I demand that we get to see what he’s doing at the moment. I also demand some Oreo’s. I’ll be right back.

Tom’s just on his way home. Since his donkey knows the way, he tries to sleep. Reason one why ungulates are better than cars. The problem is that its tail keeps flicking his face. He shouldn’t have to lean back, so he ties a rock to it. (Disappearing tail.) With more heft, it knocks him off the wagon and into the closest cemetery. These places always seem scarier at night, and that’s because that’s when the skeletons come out. I’d question why they want to hurt him, but they were clearly human, and he’s most certainly a dog. Best to keep him from chewing on their remains. Plus, they already have a dog skeleton here. The place only allows one pet.

The dancing skeletons advance, but didn’t foresee Tom trying to get away. And succeeding thanks to the missing section of the surrounding wall. If they only had muscles anymore, they might have, could have, fixed it. Tom takes the first boat lying on the path, and heads for the water. But he didn’t grab the bottom, so he ends up floundering. It’s a good thing that Piggy’s boat is slower than a glacier sloth. They’re still in ear shot, and Piggy valiant flings himself over the side to rescue the old dog.

That’s just what the random villain onboard has been waiting for this whole picture. Fluffy tries to fight back, but her punches are as soft as her name. As if Piggy hasn’t had enough rescues today. He dashes ahead to a pole with a hook and line on it. Probably supposed to be used for loading and unloading cargo. In this case, he hooks the fiend, and frees his lady from his clutches. The boat will just have to survive without them, because there it goes. So what should we do with this character? He’s not small enough to throw back.

Piggy has the most humane solution! Since they’re right by a saw mill, they lower him onto the spinning saw blade. Wow! Just wow. Wows all around. There’s really no other way to describe it! (It’s short for ‘what? ow!’)

Favorite Part: The tussle with the reptile was fun and frantic. Really sold it with all the splashing.

Personal Rating: Well, this is the eldest of the Censored Eleven, so I have to tread lightly. That’s how I’ve decided to say, I don’t think it’s as bad as the others. I don’t get to decide how bad it is, yes, but since they’re all animals, it just doesn’t scream offensive to me as hard as I should be hearing it.

What I can say, is it feels like two cartoons got smushed together. Stealing any setup the villain needed, slash taking time away from what could have been a Warner’s version of “Swing you Sinners.” If the music wasn’t so good, I wouldn’t be giving out a 2.

 

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Two’s a Crowd

“Oh, you darling little fellow!”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Ken Harris, Phil Monroe, Ben Washam, Lloyd Vaughan, and Emery Hawkins; Layouts and Backgrounds by Peter Alvarado; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on December 30, 1950.

Claude has it good. Catnip candy, his own bed, toys, and he doesn’t have to share any of it. Sounds like this should be disrupted! As it turns out, the lady of the house just had a birthiversary. And John really wanted to prove he loves her, so he got her a puppy. So lively and frisky. You should call him Lively! Either that, or you can suggest your dog frisks people. You do you… is a statement I dislike because it sounds to me like you’re telling someone to @#*% themselves. Now, back to the show.

Claude is not pleased. The tiny creature has got to go, lest it keeps reminding Claude that its cuter than him. The lady, Dear, does question what they will do if Claude doesn’t like the cutie. Simple answer isn’t it? You get rid of the cat. A dog is better in every way, anyway. That’s John’s reasoning anyhow. And Dear is fine with it. Did either of you actually adopt him? Or did he just come with the house? With his home on the line, Claude comes out and fawns over the little muffin. Even keeping his cool when Frisky bites his nose. This has healthy relationship written all over it.

Now, most humans lose interest in their new animals shortly after obtaining them. To whit, John and Deer are off to the movies. Claude can house train the little guy. But right now, what Claude is smelling is an opportunity. He can off the pup while they’re out. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW! Once the humans leave, he reveals that he’s no declawed cat. He’s ready to skin the whelp alive or dead. He’s not going to be replaced. He’s not yellow figuratively, just literally. He’s-

On the ceiling. That little pup is fast! And Claude always has had a bit of a nervous temperament. When the dog barks, he flies into the air. It’s annoying, but harmless as he always lands on his feet. Claude thinks he’s got in cornered in the closet, but that was his own mirror reflection. The mirror breaks, but the pieces that fall out are the ones that surrounded Claude’s impact. And here I thought the results would be mirrored. (Man! How do I only average 200 visitors a week?)

This requires bait. Puppy biscuits are just the thing! They’re crunchy, flavorful. Need any other reasons? Frisky follows the trail Claude has led to the washing machine. Drowning him and breaking his bones? Diabolical! Dogs love their bones! Too bad Claude not only got his tail caught inside, but Frisky ducked back at the last second. Luckily, it all comes out in the wash, and Claude exits looking like a Cheetos snack somebody left in a glass of water. (Incidentally enough, that was my grandma’s preferred way to eat them. I hate myself for reminding me.)

We’ll need to try again with different bait. Sausages linked to dynamite will do. He whistles for the dog, who then warps from where he was standing to walking towards the meat treat. Frisky gobbles them down whilst Claude takes cover. He’s then horrified to find the dog came over to thank him personally. Claude hides from the combustible canine in the closet, and finds out that the little guy got full before he ever touched the spicy parts. Seven lives left! That should cancel out the broken mirror’s powers.

Simplest is best, so Claude just chases Frisky with an axe. The pup’s secret advantage? He’s small. He easily fits in the heat vent. Claude goes to get a plunger, giving Frisky the chance to escape. Claude’s adrenaline powers him up something fierce as he pumps plenty of suction into the furnace. He gets a wealth of burning coal and a plume of fire in the living room. Suddenly, I get it when people say a cat brings warmth to a household. Won’t the parents be pleased!

Nope. Deer is devastated; John is livid. No way an innocent baby did any of this. Claude is kicked out of the house but permanently. And I say without irony that the cartoon ends happily for everybody. For you see, Claude sneaks back in for his revenge. Simpler than an axe is giving Frisky a dose of his own medicine. Claude does a great impression of a dog barking, and Frisky is equally talented at playing a scared cat. Never knew his claws could grip like that!

Favorite Part: That puppy biscuit box may look like gibberish at first glance, but it becomes legible English later on. Basically stating that any animal can enjoy these things, because all animals have the same kind of digestive tract, right? Do you think the Jones unit had any idea that people would be able to catch such details in the future?

Personal Rating: 3

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Porky’s Duck Hunt

“It’s me again.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Animation by Virgil Ross and Robert Cannon; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on April 17, 1937.

Porky, Porky, Porky. What are we going to do with you? We all love ya, but your voice… The polite way to say this is it’s too expensive recording that stutter. The honest? We feel bad for you when you speak. Get it under control, or we’ll have no choice but to bring Beans back out of retirement. Maybe Buddy as well. Look, we’ve booked you an appointment with some guy named Mel. He has a habit of performing voice miracles. We think you’d make a perfect match.

And were they ever! Right from the get go even! A marked improvement in every sense of the word. Porky had good shorts before, but now they have the chance to be greater than great. Superb, even. Maybe a summary would convince you? I know its hard to accept the fact that wonder can occur in the world.

Porky has decided to take up a new hobby. It requires bullets, decoys, and a suit that he looks adorable in. He’s going to hunt ducks. What jolly fun! Especially if you’re not a duck. (Geese think this sport is a hoot.) He must have some experience killing animals. I can see the tiger head on his wall, can’t you? But he’s still inexperienced. Never, repeat nine times, NEVER aim your gun at your dog. That’s just mean, not to mention potentially dangerous. Porky laughs this off, and claims its not loaded; pulling the trigger to prove it. The man living above him pays a visit to punch Porky’s puss soon after. I call that karma.

I also call ducks delicious, so Porky has my support. At the lake, he sees a juicy morsel in the air right away. He does his best to be as quiet as a louse, but he’s not the only one here today. It’s like it’s duck season, or something. Fortunately for the bird, nobody here knows what they are doing and every bullet misses. I’m happy I live in a world where bullets don’t just litter the ground should you miss your target. Couldn’t be happy for the ecosystem. Porky is smarter than humans, so he deploys decoys so he won’t waster resources. Will they work?

If by ‘work’ I meant a meat duck could hide in plain sight amongst them. They work beautifully. The duck quacks at Porky’s back, and acts wooden when Porky tries to catch him. Porky’s not crazy though! He’s the only one who’s not crazy in this picture! His plan is to tie a decoy around his head, then sneak under the water to see which duck has legs. That’s his dinner. Or trophy. But that’s a waste of lovely meat, and mouthwatering fat.

Turns out, guns don’t function so great after being submerged. Porky can’t do more than squirt at the fowl, so it takes off. (After letting out a weird shout. The same shout featured years later in “A Corny Concerto“. Odd bit to reuse.) Luckily for Porky, this doesn’t cause his dog to appear on screen and laugh at him. Besides, once the water’s been cleared out, it’s ready to go. The duck has landed on a barrel of beer, (all good wetlands have these) and Porky’s bullets hit that. The duck flies away, and the hooch flows into the water. What an effect that could have on the local fish, and what an effect it does!

So drunk are the little guys, they’ve forgotten they can’t breathe out of the water. Without that fear holding them back, they giggle like schoolgirls as they load up onto a rowboat for a bit of serenading. (Hey. Where’d the fifth one come from anyway? Answer: an egg.) They enjoy this privilege that no fish has ever had the pleasure of before. No wonder humans do this. I hate to see them leave, but they’ve got a whole world to explore now. Porky acts more dry than the fish are now. (“There’s s-s-s-s-something f-f-f-fishy about th-that.”)

When the duck next tries to escape, Porky manages to shoot him down! Amazing and radical! He sends his dog to retrieve the goods. (Dog’s name is Rin-tin-tin.) Dog comes back all right, but the duck did all the retrieving work. Now Porky, he’s a good boy. Does what he’s supposed to and snitches on rule breakers. As such, he calls the duck out for not following the script. Back at this short’s debut, I imagine audiences were blown out of their brains to hear the duck not only respond, but tell Porky to not worry as said duck is crazy. He hops madly into the distance. Very daffy of him.

Porky next tries to hunt on the water. That’ll keep him hidden? Well, it was nice of the fish to let him borrow their craft once they got arrested for the boat version of D.U.I., regardless. Since Porky isn’t you know, hidden by any definition of the word, the ducks aren’t here. He decides to eat his lunch. As it turns out, that little black duck is quite the influence on the others, and they fly down to quack every time Porky turns his back. During the confusion, he ends up pointing his gun down when he fires, sinking his boat, and getting taunts from Joe Penner. (Ouch.)

Rin then gestures Porky over. Oddly, Porky’s hat is on the shore as well. And Porky returns with the decoy still on his head. Was this originally supposed to take place earlier in the short? Why though? And why change it? To make it funnier when that screwy duck returns and spouts today’s quote? (He may be duck sized, but I feel like he should be bigger.) He flies away again. Porky has at least one more toy to try though: his duck call. Blowing it attracts all the other hunters you forgot were hiding on the other side.

More trouble than its worth, Porky throws it away, but it lands in his dog’s esophagus. More bullets follow every time he hiccups, meaning pig and pet have to run home if they want to see tomorrow. Poor Porky. Maybe I should call him ‘Poorky’. Nah, I don’t want to rub it in. How about a compliment? I really do think you look cute with lopped ears! Or more like deaf ears that my compliments are falling on. Porky sulks, his mood not being helped by his dog still quacking. Only thing worse than losing is being reminded you lost.

Once home, he can’t even take a breather because the ducks flew all this way to mock him with aerial acrobatics outside his window. He tries to take them out, but used all his bullets at the lake. All except that last one that tends to get stuck at the back of the barrel. It only comes out when Porky throws his gun on the floor with frustration. The guy above gets another shot in the cheek, so Porky earns another pop in the nose. (Wait, that window to the right suggests there’s nothing but outside outside. Where’s that interior outside the door coming from?)

During the ending card, that duck shows up again to dance about the credits. Something tells me we haven’t heard the last from him. I think W.B. might have discovered a brand new personality type for Toons!

Favorite Part: Very hard to pinpoint. Avery’s unit was in top form here. But it has to go to the electric eel that appears in this picture. Yes, it looks nothing like its namesake as has to be labeled for our dumb butts. Yes, it has little limbs making it look more like a siren. (The amphibian ones.) Yes, this clearly isn’t South America. But… it IS freshwater! Holy opposite of Heaven! Do you know how many times I’ve been yelling at screens; insulting animators for putting that kind of fish in saltwater? It’s over 9.

Personal Rating: 4

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Prest-o Change-o

“It’s twelve o’clock!”

Supervision by Charles Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 25, 1939.

Charles and Joe are on the run from the world’s scariest dogcatcher. Basically an evil silhouette with an eye. Shadows always are scarier when not attached to their source. But they still don’t have a brain, so the pups give him the slip by ducking into the nearest house. A sign declares it to be the home of the magician, Sham-Fu. Because why not advertise yourself as a fraud? Most humans will be too dumb to catch on. They’ll probably think it’s a riff on a certain dolphin, and that’s despite the fact this picture predates her by a couple decades.

The dogs are almost immediately separated. The doorway Joe enters just shrinks to nothing before Charles can follow. He wasn’t paying attention anyway, so all he knows for sure is his partner in whatever crime they are currently on the run for is gone. But there’s another warm body on the premises for him to interact with. None other than Proto-Bugs! Who possibly could be Sham, seeing as we never actually do that with a human. It’s just a stage name he uses to sell shows and afford this house. Probably just hires people off the street to pretend to be the magician. Always suspect the rabbit!

My theory garners more evidence by revealing P.B. can perform prestidigitation. For his first trick, or feat really, because it’s actually happening, he makes a decorative vase disappear and reappear in the air above Charles’s head. Then he makes himself disappear in the coat he originally appeared from. When the angry Charles tries to get him, he instead gets a dead lobster pinched on his nose. For a dog, that’s like you getting your eyeball pinched by a live lobster. As is the style of cartoons with these dogs, we will now switch to Joe’s escapades.

He has found a different sort of magic being. If that can even be the appropriate term since he runs into what is labeled as a “Hindu Rope Trick”. ‘Indian’ isn’t P.C. Or even just C., as this rope was born in Cleveland. It seems friendly enough, but without facial features, we’re just guessing. And we’re guessing ‘no’ since it refuses to shake Joe’s paw and thwacks him on the head. Does that count as punching or whipping in this case? Joe plans to give him what-for, (and we know what for) but it’s time to check on Charles again. I worry about him.

He has just managed to rid himself of the crustacean cadaver, when P.B. reappears. He can materialize a pop-gun, shoot Charles in the nose, then turn into a bush to avoid consequences. He also knows how to turn himself back to lagomorph to give the dog a smooch. Then, when Charles threatens to tear him a new one, he makes himself disappear into thin hare. Er, that ‘h’ is supposed to be silent. Um, Joe distraction!

Joe is following the rope still. Thank you, Joe. The rope snakes its way into a trunk and gets a hold of a magic wand. A prop holding a prop? What’s next, a star orbiting a star? The rope summons a vase to drop on the dog, then a pitcher to pour water on him. It’s very container based. The rope also disappears for a frame. It’s no slip-up, it’s magic! Joe next tries to rest the wand away, (losing his tongue in the process, which seeing as he’s not magic…) and in the scuffle he swallows the dang thing. Now he can hiccup canaries! Points for an original superpower.

P.B. is still picking on Charles. He disappears again, only to reappear again, to pinch Charles’s nose again. Then he flees again, but not into the air this time. He ducks behind a door, which he then turns into a chest of doors. This time, the ‘s’ is silent. Reappearing to tickle the poor dog and laugh about it. And now, back to the Joe show. He’s also gained the ability to hiccup helium balloons. Magic is allowing him to create an element out of nothing. I’m starting to see why Muggles aren’t allowed to know about these things. And here I just thought that magic types were dicks.

Joe tries to hold the hiccups in, but this just makes the balloon materialize in his stomach. He goes flying through the air, just as P.B. has locked Charles on the other side of the door. While the bigger dog demands to be let in, Joe crashes into the rabbit and they both go back out the door. When Charles gets out from under it, he finds P.B. somehow got himself wrapped up in the Hindu rope. Rather than risk giving him a new weapon, Charles takes the wrapped rabbit and puts in in a couple locked boxes. (One of which has a color-changing lock. I think it’s magic?)

Joe hiccups again, and Charles worriedly watches the resulting balloon. His fears are warranted, as it pops into P.B. and he shoots Charles a final time. He tries to disappear once more, but Charles has had it. He stops the trick, and gives the proto-bunny a punch. He is a boxer, after all.

Favorite Part: During P.B.’s first trick, he looks in Charles’s ear as part of his showmanship. Completely innocent and naive, Charles returns the favor.

Personal Rating: 3. As entertaining as magic shows can be, I can’t help but remember that I’m just being lied to. Animation is always very honest with me. That’s why it’s the only friend I have.

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Screwball Football

“Rah. Rah. Rah.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Melvin Millar; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 16, 1939,

In my life I’ve considered there to be four major sports. There’s basketball, the only one I can watch and enjoy. Soccer, one I never had interest in, but never thought was worth hating. Baseball, which I don’t give a dang about. And American Football. The one I never could understand the appeal of, never bothered to learn how it was played, and do my best to pretend it doesn’t exist. Sounds like it would make for a great Avery gagfest.

Time for a game at the Chili Bowl. (I’ve bean there.) The crowds are literally colorful, literally roar, and are literally dogs. The weather is behaving, so infants can get away with wearing as little as possible. One in particular is constantly eyed by the older gentledog next to him. I will dub him Mr. Poe. First name, Kree. Luckily, what he’s really after is the pup’s ice cream. Constantly sneaking licks whenever the little guy’s head is turned. Still belongs on a watch list, because he’s probably giving the kid Parvo.

The game begins, and a lot of the gags are okay at best. Players dance effeminately; they are kicked in the end zone instead of the balls; said balls are the ones carried away on the stretchers. Gregory (who has a brother in prison) is a 12-year bench warmer who is finally getting a chance to play. He comes back in a full body cast. Constantly shattering expectations; that’s our Gregory!

Have time? ‘Cause it’s Half time! Music is played while the sides change. The players are given a chance to really grill the coaches on their lousy work. And now we can get to the best part of any sport, the final part. Players catch players and get rewarded with smooches. Touchdowns get interrupted for commercial breaks. (Gives the thighs a chance to phase off the plane of existence.) And the cheerleader’s head breaks up with the neck to do some bouncing. This is during the time when cheerleaders were guys. That’s not a joke. Wasn’t until WWII that women became synonymous with the activity.

The game can only end when the gun fires. When it does, the score can be tallied and winners decided. Ah, there we go. I was starting to worry we were going to reach feature length and get called Field Jam. Or since it’s FOOTball, would it be Toe Jam?

Favorite Part: That wasn’t a game official firing the shot. The baby was sick of having his dairy devoured, and put some lead in Kree’s head. You gotta respect the cream.

Personal Rating: 3. The puns are kinda lame, but there’s plenty of slapstick violence that I think make it pretty enjoyable. But if it’s extra enjoyable you want; with more dogs playing, I’ve got just the thing!

And now I must ask you to watch one more thing.

Come, friends. Join me in a squee. And fantasize who you want to cameo in this. Here’s my picks:

  • The Dodo
  • Ralph (Both Wolf and Phillips)
  • Bosko (I know that’s a pipe dream)
  • The Mynah Bird
  • Sniffles
  • Charlie
  • Snafu (Another long shot, I’m aware.)

 

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Henhouse Henery

“Mutts is nuts!”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Manny Gould, John Carey, Charles McKimson, Pete Burness, and Phil DeLara; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on July 2, 1949.

Are you in need of an earworm? Do you long to have nothing but a song playing in your cranium from the dawn of time til the dusk of the universe? Are you all there if you answered ‘yes’? You watch this short, and you’ll never forget Foghorn’s theme song. No matter how much hypnosis you undertake.

Enjoy your title treatment while you still can Henery. This’ll be the last time the studio tries hyping you up as the star.

Henery is on one of his usual chicken hunts, while Foghorn is setting up his latest prank. This time, he labels a stepladder as a fire escape, then lights a fire in Barnyard’s face. When the pup follows the sign’s directions, he falls; he splats. Clearly, we’ve got a master prankster on our paws. Foghorn then stuffs a beach ball in his mouth to shut his angry barking off. Pleased with his latest results, Foggy doesn’t notice the hawk behind him.

Said hawk gets his attention with a hammer to the head. Foghorn doesn’t take him seriously, though. Henery is a small hawk. Practically a newborn. Or newhatch, I guess. Whatever the correct terminology, Foghorn suggests he take on smaller targets to get himself ready for big game. Henery takes the tip, and starts making off with a hen. Foghorn grabs her, and gets smacked for it. Never try to save a woman. They think its demoralizing to get help from an opposite gender. Let them stand up to an active shooter, and whatever remains will take you to bed that night.

Foghorn reprimands the kid for still not going small enough, then grabs a nightmare on a stick to razz Barnyard with. Rather then rendering the dog catatonic, it just makes him angry. Foghorn is safe at the rope’s limit, and while that may be reason enough to paint the town red, he’d rather paint the tongue green. He’ll be telling his grandchildren about this one. Meanwhile, Henery is moping at his lack of luck. Foghorn tells him to grab one of the chicks just yonder. Bird racism continues to be in fashion, as the chicks are ducklings. Never trust a bird that willingly goes in water. I’ve never yet met an honest osprey.

Henery nearly drowns, and it’s awfully sporting of Foghorn to save him. He’s not utilizing Henery for dog annoying today, and he knows the kid is still a predator. But he saves him all the same. You think Henery will remember that? It might be worth surrendering the spotlight to the bigger star- I mean bird.

Speaking of Foggy, he’s just tricked Barnyard into running into a fence that he painted to look like an open gate. Forced perspective is so cool! Too bad he finally got off that rope, and can now chase. He’s built for endurance, so Foghorn doesn’t even have a chance running. Try a weapon. He chops a tree, and shapes the wood into a bat, but Barnyard gets it and can swing hard enough to cleave a table in twain. Foghorn gives him the slip, but isn’t the type to lay low for long. Might as well check on that chickenhawk.

Since even infants are too tough for Henery, he’ll have to go as low as possible and go for a chicken still in the shell. Foghorn directs him to a turtle. Now that I think about it, Foghorn really has it out for any nongalliforme critters. I hope he never learns about his son’s origins. Henery fails to get the “chicken” out of the shell. He just ends up getting pulled in and beaten up. He’s usually so competent at fisticuffs. I guess Foggy’s mind games have really gotten to him. He could really use a friendly pepping up. I recommend dogs for that. Pigs too, but I’d rather keep them for myself.

Barnyard just assumes Henery is looking for Foghorn, and suggests a team-up. I think that’s allowed. The two of them combined has gotta at least match Foghorn’s girth. Foggy notes Henery setting up a chicken trap, and can’t resist telling him it’s wrong. (He was created by humans, all right.) This trap just won’t work because all smart chickens will just jump over the rope snare like so. Good thing this trap was designed for those kind of birds, as Foghorn lands on a pitfall, and Henery gets the rope around his neck.

The little dog laughs to see such sport, while Henery takes his catch home. Barnyard may sarcastically call Foghorn smart, but even geniuses can make mistakes. (*glances at the Wile E. category*) I think he still qualifies as brain food.

Favorite Part: Foghorn demands an explanation on why Henery hit him with a hammer. Rather than comply, Henery hits him again. Funny, and a bit threatening.

Personal Rating: 3

 

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Pagan Moon

“Aloha!”

Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Norm Blackburn. A Merrie Melody released on January 31, 1932.

Welcome to paradise! That’s what I call this tropical area our short takes place in, because I have no idea if its based on any real world counterpart! The natives have tannish skin, but white voices. They dance, they sing. The lone female is either a child or a victim of an unplanned mastectomy. I hope for whichever one matches her age to the boy she hangs around with.

He can play a ukulele, which in my book means she can do better than him. Sorry for any offense, but I heard enough of that blasted instrument in high school for me to develop a rest of my lifelong hatred for it. He can also play his mouth. No, that’s not a pretentious term for singing. He puts his palm over his mouth hole and lifts it repeatedly. Kinda makes him sound like a kazoo. That means if he also plays bagpipes, he’s useless for musical purposes.

There’s a monkey and an ape in the trees. So, we can’t be in the Caribbean sea. Even if it’s currently night out, I think their skin would be darker if they were on some African island. That ape doesn’t look like an orangutan. I’m starting to think we’re just at a theme resort made by the clueless types. Wait! I recognize that variety of dancing tree! We were in Afrindiamerica the whole time! I’ve just never seen the colonized part. Anyone would make the same mistake.

Well, it’s time for the characters to receive their complimentary names. Mac and Damia should suffice. Now I can specifically say that Mac loses his ukulele in a crocodile mouth. My wish came true! And Mac isn’t in much danger as this species of Crocodylus is commonly known as the dockodile. Its head remains at the shore, and its body has to stay in water. It can’t just climb out and eat anything, so Mac is safe at half-a-foot away. And since nothing of value was lost, he can leave!

*Sigh* He gets his instrument back. Just needed a stick to keep the jaws from closing. This species of Crocodylus has a very weak bite force, so its… in a sticky situation! (You can’t tell, but I’m smiling now.) Mac leaves for his boat date with Damia. Night is the safest time to do that, as all dangerous animals are diurnal. Even better, I get my wish again when Mac drops the uke overboard. Either God is sending him a message, or I have a wishbone in my body. If power didn’t corrupt, I’d be wishing for a second stomach next.

Mac decides to dive down after it. Cartoon physics said it wouldn’t float, and they were spot-on. Just gotta be wary of the ichthyoids down here. One of which would have been seen earlier that month by theater goers! They must’ve been really proud of that animation! It actually would have been hilarious if they had found a way to stick it in every short released that year. Once at the bottom, Mac realizes this is the graveyard for musical instruments. And the odd caterpillar. Breathing is also not a problem in W.B. cartoons. You could have a rabbit down here and it would be logical!

The problem down here is an octopus. The scary underwater creature until people remembered sharks existed. Mac calms him down with a little piano playing. Looks like the kid isn’t musically incontinent after all! And this silly symphony attracts lots of frolicking fish. Ever an attention hog, the octopus has to take a turn at playing, himself. And he’s quite the talented pianist too! You’d think his arms have neurons in them or something! And everyone is supportive! Even Mac. That’s big, Mac.

Time to flee! A large fish arrives on the scene looking to sea food and eat it. Not necessarily in that order. He’s more flexible than the octopus. Mac doesn’t have a body that’s evolved to move through H2O as easily as he breathes it, so he makes his escape via bubble. Floating is faster than anything that requires effort. He escapes, but continues to float into the sky. It’s day now, which means he really kept Damia waiting while he screwed around in that octopuses’ garden.

A passing cormorant hates to burst his bubble, but I’m lying. Down Mac goes. Damia, the competent one in this relationship, mounts a rescue abroad a pelican. I know you’re upset, but it’s nothing to lose your arm over. This was a smart move, as the bill makes a perfect basket for a perfect catch. Damia joins him for a laugh, in the pelly, with thee. That’s a strong neck the bird has.

Favorite part: The underwater shot of the the couple’s boat. Looked good.

Personal Rating: 2

 

 

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Corn on the Cop

“Bye-bye, birdie.”

Rock it, squad.

Directed by Irv Spector; Story by Friz Freleng; Animation by Manny Perez, Warren Batchelder, and Bob Matz; Layouts by Dick Ung; Backgrounds by Tom O’Loughlin; Film Editor: Lee Gunther; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc and Joan Gerber; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Merrie Melody released on July 24, 1965.

Halloween in July! Summerween, I think it’s called. I prefer Easter myself, but we need the ‘ween for story purposes.

Granny (not voiced by June this July, and you’ll notice.) is purchasing goodies for the holiday. Let’s rate them! Apples: tasty, but always a ripoff on Halloween. I’ll let you have this one only until the 90’s. Bubblegum: tastes good, looks disgusting, and I really hate putting anything in my mouth that I’m not going to actually eat. Corn Candy: I’m pretty sure you’re legally allowed to call it ‘Candy Corn’ but it sucks regardless. Lollipops: entirely dependent on the flavor, but I don’t like having a stick afterwards.

I’m skipping her house. It’s not the lousy treats, it’s her attitude. She seems to really hate this holiday. Kids get an excuse to scare her. So why even buy the sweets? Part of your religion, isn’t it. Now for that story purpose: being Halloween, a crook disguises himself as an elderly woman. Because people will think he’s really a woman. Nobody is going to think it’s a disguise? Tonight? If anything, shouldn’t this mean you can wear a traditional burglar outfit?

Turns out, the grocery clerk who helped Granny is dumb enough to not think for a few seconds. Fine, I guess I wouldn’t think rationally if there was a gun in my face either. He is at least knowledgeable enough to inform the police once he’s complied with the demands. But, this whole time he thinks it was actually Granny. Why bother with Halloween at all then? I’ll get to it when the recap needs me to.

Police H.Q. cuts into the fade-out of the cashier to alert the closest pig of the robbery. The closest pig has a duck too! Ah, Porky. I can’t completely hate any cartoon that you’re a part of. (That one dosen’t count.) The two are filled in on the details: elderly lady, blue dress, bonnet, (is it really?), and $798.44 in stolen currency. Sergeant O’Duck tells his partner to get going to the last location she was seen, despite Porky trying to tell him something. Something important. Something like “That’s w-where we we-we’re p-par- stationed!”

They find the actual Granny. Shame no one was able to notice that mask the thief was wearing. Might be a good distinguishing feature. They demand the bag and she refuses. No matter how good their cop costumes are. Now you know why we needed a specific holiday. Then she smacks them with her shopping bag. Ever been smacked by a bag of bags of corn candy? Makes you bruise like the apples Granny just ruined.

She runs off in fear with the two in hot pursuit. She passes by the real burglar, and since their wearing the same get-up, the Po-Po-Porky team mistake the actual crook for the false one. The sergeant wants all the credit, so pushes the brains of their outfit aside. Duck shot! Granny makes it home to the crummy apartment complex she lives in. Guess Sylvester and Tweety really were the ones making all the money. Crooky has also fled here, ducking into an empty apartment up for rent. Wouldn’t that be the first one real cops would search?

Good thing that’s no concern  of ours. O’Duck and newly nicknamed Dr. Coolpork knock on the fake crook’s door. Despite what just happened, she’s still willing to give them a treat. Religious reasons, I knew it. The sergeant’s plan is to have Coolpork lower him down to her window via a rope. Hey! Don’t start to fade-out when the pig is still talking! I’ll have you know I’ve thrown rocks at people for less than this! And more! I got a lot of rocks. The fake granny cuts the rope. O’Ducks aren’t known for their flying skills, so down he goes.

The next scheme is to build a hardly structural bridge out of planks. When Coolpork goes for more wood, he notices how badly the fist one was nailed down. He rips the nails out. Come on, man! You’re smarter than that! That’s something Ryder would do! (May have gone too far with that one.) Why not use a ladder? Calling for back-up won’t work because the rest of the beat got the day off for religious reasons. O’Duck carries while Coolpork directs. When the real Granny closes her window, the fake granny opens his. And vice-versa. Time for Crooky to escape.

He’s spent the whole night and some of yesterday digging a tunnel into the sewers. He exits via the manhole, leaving the coppers to fall in. I like focusing on Porky. Heh-heh, I mean the camera doing that. There’s more of a laugh when you don’t see the bottom guy about to fall in the hole. Granny’s had her fill. Not at all surprised to see Crooky, (Were you aware he was there? Shouldn’t you have figured the cops were real, then?) she drags him off for corporal punishment. She’s got a real nasty spanking hand.

As Crooky is punished, another cop shows up. Granny knows this one, so doesn’t think he’s yet ANOTHER delinquent hooligan out to harass her and get rewarded for it. He doesn’t even bother to correct her; just says he’s been looking for the guy and will take him off her hands. And addresses her as Mrs. Webster. Wow! We had to wait three years alone for her first name, and another 12 for the sur. I notice a good friend of mine only needed one year before being comfortable enough to confine.

Granny Webster says she’ll be taking the other two to their parents herself. So she drags Coolpork by the ear and O’Duck by the not-an-ear, and heads off. Too bad the picture ends before we see her getting arrested for assaulting officers. Yeah, thanks for speaking up, Flauerty. Your nickname can be douchemeat.

Favorite Part: When Granny runs by him; Crooky: “How do you like that? You come up wit’ somethin’ new, and right away you got imitators.” Funny due to how true it is. Sad for the same reason

Personal Rating: 2. I’m probably being too kind. Call it holiday spirit, but it was great to see Porky and Granny (Especially Porky) one last time. Mistaken identity naturally lends itself to comedy, too. Better than another Daffy/Speedy picture, anyway.

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Sugar and Spies

CITY DUMP

I’m beginning to think THIS is a spy car.

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tom Dagenais; Animation by Bob Matz, Manny Perez, Warren Batchelder, Dale Case, and Ted Bonnicksen; Layouts by Dick Ung; Backgrounds by Tom O’Loughlin; Film Editor: Lee Gunther; Musical Direction by Walter Greene. A Looney Tune released on November 5, 1966.

Wile E. isn’t the only one engaged in a chase today. The cops are currently in pursuit of a cloning experiment that went awry. We were trying to combine Boris Badenov and Ratfink… Ratfinkerson. This was supposed to make a spy that would be able to rival Solid Snake somehow. Instead, it just wanted to dedicate its life to decimating moose and Rolands. Two of the world’s most endangered species. Or so you’ve been told. The most humane thing to do at this point is cremate it. It wasn’t too keen on the idea.

To lighten its load, it throws out its spy kit. We’ll never catch him now! Wile E. was hit in the face with the case and decides to make use of this free gift. Always committed to the role, he slips on a trench coat and hat. He looks fly as heck, but it probably feels like Heck wearing that in a sunny desert. Well, probably not. If you use ‘spy’ as an adjective, you can explain your way out of anything. Since its a spy coat, it probably has a cooling function. Built in AC or ice in the pockets or what have you.

He first tries the vial of sleeping gas. Warning: This stuff is potent! It can put a cactus to sleep. No doubt it could also get fish to close their eyes and turn caffeine into tryptophan. The one downside is that it’s still just a gas. You can blow it away. I don’t think it being visible is a downside. People are always curious about strange ground level clouds; curious enough to breathe them in. Not Roadrunners though. The one on screen blows it into Wile E.’s face and he sleepwalks off a cliff. Since he’s not aware of the lack of gravity, he’s not falling.

The roadrunner wakes him with an alarm clock. Wait, that was the antidote? We really should have learned that in the beta testing. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some families of test subjects who are about to receive good news! I’ll be back after Wile E. fails to mail a time bomb to his prey. *walking away* An alarm clock, after all this time! I guess it would take one of the world’s most cruel inventions to combat a runner-up.

INTERMISSION (Should you choose to accept it…)

And we’re back. Wile E is using explosive spy putty. Good thing its described as spy putty to explain why its specifically spy putty. It should blast a boulder onto one final plate of birdseed, but it lands on him. He decides to build a car. Yes, Wile E. in a car. Why does it sound so logical, yet look so taboo? He outfits it with all the best tricks, too. Machine guns, and ejector seats, and a cannon. Oil slicks are a gamble. You run the risk of humans thinking there’s a gusher around here to claim, and they destroy the pristine scenery. And probably shoot you.

The guns fire, but the bullets bounce off rocks and take out the hood. There goes the sunroof option. There goes the color in the fur above Wile E’s muzzle. He opts for the seat. It launches him to the bird, but he just misses. The car bumps him back into the seat. Then the bird leads him on a wild roadrunner chase around a natural arch, getting him to waste all his fuel in the process. The cannon can still function, but the blast knocks the car over him, and the rocks ricochet this ammo too.

This calls for remote control missile-bombs. You control where you want them to go, but you still have to program a target. I guess so they know to blow up when they hit your target and not an errant Frisbee? Wait! Wile E. was wearing gloves! That looks even more wrong than the car! The roadrunner hides under Wile’s step stool, darting away at the last minute. I guess the targeting system just tells you if what you want to eradicate is actually around. After the explosion, Wile E. has the missile-bomb wings on his own arms. (They didn’t look that big before.)

In another classic out-of-character move, R.R. chooses the moon as a target. Good thing this was the final picture! Oh, Wile E. could get back. He’s a genius, after all. I just mean that the roadrunner’s identity was murdered.

Favorite Part: The roadrunner (who is in charge of the mail around here) can’t deliver the time bomb, because of insufficient postage. Wile E. begs him to hold on while he fixes this error, and the bird nods. Was it really that easy this whole time?

Personal Rating: 2. Thank goodness the series didn’t end as badly as it had been prior. The gags don’t feel as drawn-out here, and I like that they have a theme. I never thought there was a problem in doing that. I want to now see a short where Wile E. holds auditions for other predators to join him.