Category: Looney Tunes

Cartoons that were labeled as “Looney Tunes.”

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Bosko’s Party

“I got a present… for ya, Honey.”

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Larry Martin. A Looney Tune released on April 2, 1932.

It may rain, but Bosko has a sunny day in his heart on all days that have the letter ‘d’ in them. Even if that wasn’t the case, he has reason to feel glad when the sky feels gloomy: he’s going to a party! It’s not a party for him, despite how you interpret the title, it’s more like a party he threw together. That means it can legally be called his party as long as it’s not in honor of anybody else. So, what’s the occasion? It has to have a reason, even if it’s a “throwing a party for no reason” party. Actually it’s way better than that: it’s Honey’s birthday party! She’ll see him in court, but will probably lose as he’s the star around here.

While she gets ready for the day, Bosko and a whole bunch of her closest friends have already broken into her place to surprise her. Everybody is here! There’s that little dog that joins Bosko in the ending title cards; the only Oswald clone; Mickey clone #338; Wilber; and Pants Pig, second step-cousin to Piggy. And every one of them has got to hide if they want to surprise Honey, because here she comes! (Wilber? Please don’t take your pants off. It’s not one of those parties that needs the police involved.)

Wilber has a bit of trouble trying to find a good hiding spot; all his first choices are already taken. Since Bosko knows nobody will care if they can’t see him ever again, he sticks him under a flower pot. Once everyone is hid, Honey enters the room and… SURPRISE! Happy birthday Honey! Even though, you’re 2 1/2 max, we rounded up and got you a third candle for your cake. And we all chipped in an got you a present. Well, Bosko picked it out. Open it! Show us what it is!

Your dog? But you already have one of those. Bosko chases after the canine, but it ends up falling into the fancy aquarium. These are the kind of things that seeing will turn Honey’s stomach white. And there was never really any need to get mad at the dog, the present’s fine. It’s a ukulele! (Which means the five bucks I coughed up was wasted.) Might as well give it a test play, Bosko can accompany you on vocals. And Wilber is still stuck under the pot. Nobody has noticed he’s disappeared from the party, and I suddenly feel a kinship with the little guy.

He manages to escape, but immediately ends up caught in a mousetrap. Why would you have that set up when you invited mi-… oh wow. You guys are evil. He ends up falling into the cake, ensuring he now doesn’t have to share with the birthday girl. Wilber was the mastermind all along.

Favorite Part: Honey is about to get dressed, (Sexy negligee) when she breaks the fourth wall and sees us. She retreats behind a partition for privacy, but there’s a mirror in a perfect position. This is the most erotic cartoon of its day.

Rating: 2

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Daffy’s Southern Exposure

“Name your poison, kid.”

Supervision by Norman McCabe; Story by Don Christensen; Animation by Vive Risto; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on May 2, 1942.

Ducks fly south when winter starts to hit. And fly north again when summer returns to their original residence. As such, they live in a perpetual state of blissful warmth and never suffer from seasonal depression. How I envy them. But according to Daffy, it’s gotten old. He opts to stay behind this migration to see what winter is like. I can guarantee that the thrill will run out by the smallest fraction of time it took for you to somehow lose interest in the only time of the year worth living through.

Things start out great. With a full lake to himself, Daffy can splash, jump and “woo-hoo” to his heart’s content. (What’s with the fade-out?) Since he has an audience, he tries showing off his fancy dives. As it is wont to do, winter ruins everything with a jump cut. Daffy switches to skating. It couldn’t get worse than this, right? Hold my cold duck. The snow, snow, snow comes down, down, down, in crushing freezing pile-ups, and anyone with half a brain would be smart to cry. Yup. In fact, it snows so hard that even the captions describing the scene can’t find Daffy. Can’t say he wasn’t warned.

Daffy is able to poke his head out of the storm to scold any of us who might have been laughing at his starvation. See, as if winter wasn’t already evil and vile enough, it also destroys a majority of food that nature’s babies need to survive. If I haven’t made myself clear enough, I was always on Heat Miser’s team. I don’t want to set the world on fire, but I can’t lie that I’d die happy. I don’t know how long Daffy has been struggling by this point, but he’s starting to see trees as meat. Protein! Delicious, filling protein! You’re needed!

Then, a blessed aroma. Food! It is food, right? Surprisingly, there’s no ‘could be’ joke. The scent vapor just spells ‘yeah food’. Daffy doesn’t have a nose to follow wherever it goes, but nostrils are enough. The scent is coming from a cabin just yonder. Inside of which dwell a couple of natural duck predators: a fox and a weasel. The weasel will be called ‘Abigail’ later on, so that’s his canon name. The fox has none, so if I had more of a following, I’d allow readers to vote on the name he’ll receive. Instead, I’ma call him Jackson.

These two have food all right, but they’re not happy. It’s all beans. Sure, they’ve got all the protein and fiber you could ask for, but have you eaten canned beans recently? Not as a side dish, but a main course. They’re kinda bland, and very soft. Not satisfying to chew. No surprise, Jackson has reached his breaking point. He wants meat. Thick, juicy, plump, marbled, direct from a corpse, meat. And there’s a knock at his door. The two are pleased to find a duck, but he’s a starving duck. And if you’re going to have duck, you want it to have some fat. That is some delicious fat.

Good thing they have food. Donning lady disguises, they invite Daffy in to fill his belly, while they method act their way through “Arsenic and Old Lace”. Just, hold the arsenic. There’s even a musical number where they try to play up the beans as the best meal Daffy’s ever had in his life. What they don’t know is, if you’re starving any meal will be the best meal of your life. When Daffy is stuffed to their satisfaction, they reveal the charade. Really should have waited for him to fall asleep or something.

Daffy flees, with Jackson close behind. Abigail, being the dumb one of the duo, runs into a wall. It’s a fairly short chase; Daffy is able to lose the fox by treating a log spanning a chasm as a railroad switch that makes a second path. Jackson runs into oblivion. I hope they have meat in heaven. Daffy runs all the way to Brazil. He might accidentally burn off all the calories the beans bestowed upon him. Last I heard, he had taken residence in the headdress of the furry version of Carmen Miranda. As for Abigail, I think he’s still loyally waiting for his friend to return with the duck. So beautiful. So tragic. One of the two, anyway.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Daffy stops Jackson. “Hey, jusht a minute bub, jusht a minute.” Is he gonna follow up with ‘are you following me?’ Nope. He just hits his pursuer.

Personal Rating: 3. I really don’t like winter. It’s lucky to have scored so well.

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Gone Batty

“I don’t like you.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Sid Marcus, Ben Washam; 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 Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 4, 1954.

Game day! Championship at that! Our home team is the Greenville Goons and their opponents, the Sweetwater Shnooks. (Sic.) The Goons are your typical Gashouse Gorillas style team. Big and oafish, permanent stubble, and smelling like trouble. The Shnooks (Sic.) take after the Tea Totallers in that they look like they’ll be eaten alive, chewed as cud, eaten again, and spat out like tobacco. But as the game gets going, we can see where the teams differ. The Shnooks (Sic.) can actually play. Sure, they’re a bit on the thin side and seem to dress like they think it’s still an age where they could play the mighty Casey, but they are capable!

The Goons also differ from their predecessors: They rely more on cheating. I had no doubt the gorillas weren’t good, albeit dirty, players, but I suppose since they were playing weaklings they just didn’t feel the need to break out the tricks until a silly rabbit entered the game. The Goons will run out of the stadium to catch home-runs, and aren’t afraid to use the bats on more than balls. The Shnooks (Sic.) could use a lucky rabbit to get the upper hand, seeing as its the final inning and they’re still yet to score any runs. This calls for a desperate measure.

They have a mascot, and due to their players getting knocked out, they’re going to use him. When I asked for a hint as to what thing it might be, they told me to think hyraxes and dugongs. No. It… it couldn’t be! But it is! My beloved baby! The bouncing, beautiful, bat boy himself, Bobo! Still as cute as I remember him! And finally gotten over his log carrying stigma. The Goons protest, but “There’s nothing in the rule book that says an elephant cannot pitch!” He looks a little nervous to actually be playing, but he gets the hang of things soon. Or should I say he gets the point? When a Shnook (Sic.) gives him a good poke, he can throw the ball far faster than human reflexes can hope to hit. And Bugs was also kind enough to teach him that slow ball trick. Still works.

But striking opponents out won’t get you any points. The real way to win at this game is to do the batting yourself. (Color changing bat.) Still a little unsure of himself, but he shouldn’t be. He’s packing more than wimpy horsepower! The balls he hits get enough kinetic energy to go through Goons hands. And as an elephant, he’s naturally smart. When he sees a ball is being loaded full of teeny T.N.T., he allows to catcher to live up to his profession. It’s time to bring out the big gun. A bazooka designed to fire more baseballs than the average player pitches in a standard baseball career. Do elephants have great reflexes?

Well this one does! He hits every ball right back, whence it came. No wonder the Goons resorted to cheating the whole game. They can’t catch a single ball out of the hundreds in the atmosphere? Actually, they can, but that single has enough force to force him underground. Reusing the “I got it gag” from “Baseball Bugs” but hardly near as funny. It all comes down to the final pitch. Thanks to that bazooka, the Shnooks (Sic.) are tied for first place. One more home run will net them the game! So how will the Goons try to prevent this?

Not as imaginatively as their bazooka. They resort to just tying Bobo to a stake. But simplicity often nets the best results and poor Bobo is stuck at home. If he loses, I’ll die! After the rest of my life occurs, of course. The Goons will die first. Time for another one of the incredible talents elephants naturally possess. Their trunks are quite stretchy, and creative liberties may have been taken, but I don’t care. Bobo’s trunk clears the bases, and since it’s a part of him, it counts! Shnooks (Sic.) win! Knew my precious Bobo was the best player that will ever exist, shut the game down now. Unfortunately, they couldn’t resist ending on the joke we all saw coming: he works for peanuts. Bleh. I hate peanuts.

Favorite Part: One of the Goons’ pitchers. Look at the literal arm cannon on Rodney Aran there! Reminds me of what you once saw in Fleischer cartoons and now see in “Cuphead”.

Personal: It can’t help but reuse gags from its superior predecessor, but there’s enough new here for it to stand on its own. And it has a cuter character! (Yeah, I said it!) 3 all around! What do you mean this was Bobo’s last appearance? Is he that similar to Dumbo? Disney’s lawyers are destroying any joy I had left in my sad, pathetic existence.

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Porky’s Naughty Nephew

“Uncle Porky? Uh, can I go swimming? Oh boy! Buy me an ice cream cone! When’s Christmas? Oh, can I go swimmin’? When’s the Easter Bunny comin’? Why? What? Oh, I wanna help on these things. How soon will we get there?”

Baby pigwets awe so cute!

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by Robert Cannon; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 15, 1938.

It’s the best kind of day. The day of the Cartoon Animal Outing. (If it also includes chocolate then I’m never leaving.) Porky’s going to be there, but his sister, (you know, the one who smokes hams?) has coerced him into babysitting. I’ve made it no secret that I don’t particularly care for children. They’re loud and stubborn and I can’t speak to them on an adult level. I’ve also made it very well known that I love pigs. And piglets are the cutest pigs can get. So what am I supposed to think of little Pinkie here?

Well, he’s got a bonnet. Minus five cute points. He’s got a wide, chubby smiling face. That’s good. He is voiced by maybe Bernice Hansen just slightly sped up, I’d wager. And he loves to torment his uncle. You’d think that’s the clincher, but no, I just can’t bring myself to say otherwise. He’s adorable! His widdle waugh! His chubby tummy! His “innocent” coos! I admit that he’s best in small doses, and it’s all for the best that he’d only make one more appearance after today, and then Cicero got the nephew gig, but for today, let me gush.

Porky barely gets settled for a nap when Pinkie’s misbehavioral impulses start up. He swats Porky with his plastic sand shovel, then leaps back into pure innocence before Porky can reprimand him. Porky decides to blame the only other kid he sees on the beach wielding a shovel. Porky, not very meanly at all, tells the squirt that he shouldn’t hit people with shovels and takes it away from him. The kid’s no novice at sand scooping, though. He has a backup. When Porky tries to take that one as well, he gets beaned by the kid’s biggest shovel. Wanna join the fun, Pinkie?

Pinkie grabs the shovel and takes a swing to defend his uncle’s honor, but the kid ducks and Porky is clobbered. Judging by the kids’ smiles, this was planned. Pinkie then heads to a body of water and pretends to be drowning. Porky, ever the caring sort, dives into about a foot and a half of water. And now a sea star is plastered on his face. Oh. I thought it was just a small pond. I’m kinda scared of how high the tides reach here. Pinkie apologizes for his antics, promises to behave from now on, and is rewarded with an opportunity to bury Porky in sand. Pinkie has a drivers license and permit to operate dump trucks, and Porky now looks ready for a luau.

Time for the real reason any of us came out here: the swimming race! Porky’s gotta win, cause he has me on his side, and that means he has America on his side! At the starters pistol, Porky jumps right in while every other contestant turns back to get some sort of cheating device. Now I really like Porky’s odds since I’m pretty sure I’ve read that the odds of cheaters winning is somewhere around the never mark. This also proves that Porky is the kind of sports hero we can all look up to. (Was that Mickey clone #673? I thought they were all dead by this point.)

All the cheaters have unique ways of getting ahead. A cervine has sails strung from his antlers, one birds rides a bike (pretty sure that would be a major handicap underwater,) and an ostrich’s long legs allow it to run, rather than swim. That’s the worst kind of cheating. In fact, I’d say the only other contestant trying to be honest and likable is celebrity guest Eddie Cantor. He willingly drops out upon his discovery of, at last, a buoy! (He pronounces it the British way to make the joke work.)

Pinkie’s been hiding in that buoy, and he’s got a real trick this time. One that could affect everybody in the race, but his only target is Porky. He loves his uncle almost as much as me. Clearly. It’s a simple enough prank. He’s going to wind up a toy sailboat, and claim that its a shark. The sails do sorta look like a dorsal fin, and once it submerges you can’t tell the difference. Pinkie’s warnings don’t fall on deaf ears, and Porky swims like he’s never swam before. He’s a regular sea pig! He wins the race, no problem, and Pinkie swims right along after, cackling with delight. When he tries to show off his awesome prank, he pulls out an actual shark. (How couldn’t he tell? How much silt is in that sea?)

Favorite Part: One of the contestants is a goose. Another is some goslings doing some competitive rowing. The goose evens its chances by eating the babies. Now they row for thee.

Personal Rating: I think it deserves a 3, but if you can’t stand Pinkie, you’ll probably demand it stay a 2. And that’s okay, but I can’t understand your reasoning.

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The Rattled Rooster

“Merci beaucoup.”

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Don Williams, John Carey, Basil Davidovich, and J.C. Melendez; Story by Dave Monahan; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on June 26, 1948.

Early birds get worms. Scholars have stated this for centuries. It makes sense too. Worms like it dark so as not to harm their delicate skin. Therefore, you want worms; you don’t sleep. Our titular rooster aims to follow this rule. He’s not only going to hunt at 5 A.M., but he’s also going to make it so the clock doesn’t wake his coopmates. All is according to plan, except for the creaking of the door. The bachelor flock stampedes him going out, and coming back. All having had a wonderful breakfast. Rich in protein and water. The perfect way to start the day. (I’ve become too accustomed to Foghorn scale. It’s surreal to see roosters the size of roosters.)

Rattles, as I’m going to call him and I’m honestly surprised if you weren’t, decides to go out anyway. I’ve found worms in the P.M. hours before. I’m sure he can too. But it looks like other cockerels have nabbed them all but one. A worm in a turtleneck and sailor cap. Which means we have to call him Seaman Fishhook. He’s not easily caught. I bet it’s the arms. Worms could rule this Earth if they all had arms. When Rattles tries reaching for him underground, the worm does a little finger painting that leads to Rattles hammering his own digit at Fishhook’s suggestion.

Fishhook makes use of other objects resemblance to worms to get Rattles on a chase of the wild goose variety, instead. Toothpaste leads to a beakful of hygiene, and a balloon to a gizzard of air. After a record flight by chicken standards, Rattles is gasping for air in a pond. The line Fishhook throws to him is a telephone wire. I prefer original, but extra-crispy is pretty good too. And the grilled was also quite tasty. Are there any locations still selling that as an option? And there. Now I’ve filled enough space to warrant another paragraph break.

Fishhook finds a neat little toy amongst a rubbish pile: a rattle. Just attach it to the posterior and he’s disguised as an animal that no animal wants to mess with, sans Steve Irwin: a rattlesnake. And Rattles is deceived. He faints, screaming so loud in his head doing so, that I can hear his thoughts. Wait, were you saying that out loud? You should move your beak then. That way I can tell. He’s not the only one fooled, as along comes a lady snake, hopping like she’s Rattly’s mother. She probably is. And it does take two rattlesnakes to rumba, so she warps him up in a hug.

She’s a cutie. Usually I find rattlesnakes beautiful, majestic, maybe a little imposing, charismatic, and not that tasty. (If I’ve actually eaten one, which I doubt.) Fishhook isn’t in the same boat, as he does his best to escape her coils. I’m sure there are some viewers who are enjoying this scene a little too much. I’m not one to shame other’s kinks. Unless it’s this one. Shame on you. Be like me and just wish you could adopt her. I think Kaa has finally been dethroned as my favorite serpent. He can still be my favorite constrictor, though.

Rattles by this point, has figured out that what he saw was just a worm in disguise. But what he yanks out of the hole has scales, so she probably isn’t an eel. Definitely not a worm either. And caecilian is right out. She’s either friendly or hungry, as she begins chasing Rattles too. Come on guys! She’s not bothering me, so leave her alone! But no, they’ve got to get rid of her in the most cruel fashion. They hit a golf ball down her throat, knocking her off her bounce and getting her front half caught in a fence knothole. Then another and now she’s stuck until she starves. Cowards. Bullies. Cads. But I guess you’re not thieves.

Satisfied, they shake hands and go separate ways. Rattles’s brain suddenly remembers that Fishhook is a worm, and they equal breakfast. While chasing, he gets his head caught in another knothole and is also put there for keeps thanks to another golf ball. The vivacious viper seems quite glad for the company.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Rattles is caught in a pipe, and gets blasted out due to Fishhook giving him a hotfoot. He assumes the worm wouldn’t dare do that again, but he does. However, it doesn’t play out like copy and paste footage. See Speedy? This is how you should always do it.

Personal Rating: 3. Really folks, I can’t recall a more adorable reptile. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to snort some onions so I can make myself cry. I was really looking forward to “Bye, Bye Bunny.” It’s a good thing I still have a couple hundred cartoons to discuss, because my reasons to live seem to get smaller every month.

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Cat’s Paw

“An anemic thsprarrow would thuit me justh fine.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by George Granpre, Ted Bonnicksen, Warren Batchelder, Tom Ray; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by William Butler; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on August 15, 1959.

Junior collects merit badges, and the one he’s after right now is for bird-stalking. Sylvester, like any cat, isn’t thrilled to be doing something that requires actual work and effort. Climbing too, since his son decided to achieve his goals in Utah’s Arches National Park. (My childhood state! Before I realized the real world and I didn’t get along and I permanently relocated to Toontown. I now live between Feathers McGraw and Coconut Fred.)

Junior’s choice of bird is Turkey Vulture, Cathartes aura, but Sylvester vetoes it. What? Pffft. No, he’s not scared. You see, big birds are slow birds. You want to catch an ostrich? There’s no challenge. A cassowary? They’re too lethargic to stop you. A roc? A quadriplegic infant could do that. When it comes to birds, the small ones are the scrappy fighters. Ain’t nobody messing with a hummingbird and coming out unscathed. Instead though, the two opt for a sickly looking, no-doubt juvenile, bird in the nest above. Those kind of guys are still worthy challengers.

Sylvester refuses to even look in their guide book to find out what his prey is even called. If he did, he’d learn that he’s tangling with a Dwarf Eagle, Spilornis dopee. These guys have evolved a unique way of scaring off potential threats. An eardrum drilling shriek that makes you envy the deaf. Any predator that hears this will instinctively cover their respective auditory organs, a natural reaction and at these altitudes, a fatal one. At least they’ll escape from that scream. Proud as he is, Sylvester claims that he’s only fallen down due to losing his footing. Something I figured any cat would be even more reluctant to admit.

Dwarf eagles are also very powerful for their diminutive size. Sylvester is thoroughly shredded when he climbs up to try again. Junior is ashamed. Making things worse for his pop is the eagle flying down just to show Junior how timid, weak, and helpless he is. Dwarf eagles are cunning, too. Sylvester tries to convince Junior that the vulture would be a better choice after all, but the kid ain’t budging. He has no intention of being vomited on. Sylvester makes use of a boomerang that brings the target to him, but doesn’t render it any more harmless.

Sylvester calls it quits. Junior can hunt butterflies and like it. Since they fly, they’re pretty much the same thing. Especially the one Sylvester goes after. This is the Papilio catterkillar, the world’s most dangerous lepidopteran. Not content with wimpy nectar, they adapted to maim and kill anything foolish enough to think they are as fragile and docile as every other butterfly on the planet. Junior still finds it embarrassing. Good thing he brought a shame sack. Never know when you’ll need it.

Favorite Part: the way Sylvester says “Butterfliesth!” when he changes the day’s activity. It’s so endearingly doofy.

Personal Rating: 3. (Now junior is ashamed of me.)

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Lovelorn Leghorn

“This cluck’s off ‘er onion.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Rod Scribner, Phil DeLara, Charles McKimson, Emery Hawkins, John Carey, and J. C. Melendez; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. (So says my complete guide to Warner Bros. Cartoons, anyway.) A Looney Tune released on September 8, 1951.

After her little “egg-scapade“, (Ow. That sucked so bad my funny bone was severed.) Porky decided Prissy wasn’t worth the hassle. She’ll be living on a different farm from now on. I’m sure she’ll be much happier there. She’s not being raised for eggs in this picture, so she’s got plenty of free time. And if you’re lonely, free time sucks. I speak from experience, and you don’t care. Prissy decides to be smart and use hers as a chance to go husband hunting. The other hens’ suggestion to take a rolling pin for convincing might be sarcasm, but Prissy’s taking it regardless. Men can be dangerous when conscious. (And in the name of gender equality, women too.)

Foghorn is taking a nap in the sun, stupidly close to the Barnyard Dawg. Never sleep within his rope limits unless you want a rude awakening. And nothing gets ruder than a bucket of liquid nitrogen cold, (but still liquid somehow) water emptied on you. Listen to that gasping! Foggy’s lucky he didn’t go into hypothermic shock! Too far, B.D. Much too far. But then, Foggy must’ve dropped a quarter dozen I.Q. points to forget you. Maybe it would be best to put him out of his misery.

Prissy spots him as he sharpens an axe. Also extreme, but unwanted cold should be returned with death. Soon as I can figure out a way to end Winter without destroying the planet, I’m doing it. She uses the pin, and Foghorn gets angry. Strangely enough, this causes her to break into tears. Don’t men like physical pain? It’s the only pain they understand. Foghorn apologizes, and that conk must’ve knocked what little brain cells were up there back in place, because he is able to figure out exactly what she’s doing. (And humorously enough, supports the pin, but tells her that it’s for later in the relationship.)

So, how will he utilize her into his revenge scheme? The same way he does with Henery. He tells her that the dawg is a rooster, but he wears that fursuit to keep the ladies away. (This works with humans too. Or maybe it just works with some. Man, are we diverse.) Foghorn gives her a casaba melon, (Specific. Oddly so.) telling her that like all guys, his heart is in his stomach. But you can’t just give it to him. Tease him a little. Guys love flirting. I think I do.

As our quote demonstrates, B.D. is a little confused, but free food is free food. He tries to take it, and she starts running. This is where Foghorn rejoins, treating things like a football game. Once the melon is in his wings, it makes its way over the dawg’s head. Encased, that is. Time for the winning kick! Or punt! Or whatever the ‘L’ you call it. One dazed dog, one delighted dame. And Foggy gets to enjoy watching her try to remove the “suit”. Finally getting to speak to her properly, Barnyard tells her the truth: her ugly face means she has no alternative to trapping a husband. You mother-was-a b*tch!

Nah, he’s a swell guy. Even tells her what she’ll need to build this trap. Foghorn misses most of the construction, but he does see her trying to lift the final piece in place: a bowling ball. Not being able to see a lady do “mens work” he lifts it for her and puts it in the sluice she built. I’d also stop to see what was going to happen. I wouldn’t be disappointed either, because I’ve never stopped loving Rube Goldberg devices. The stupidly simple thing this complex monstrosity was designed to do was drop a cannon ball on rooster heads. What fun! Now make one that’s twenty-five minutes long and adds salt to fries.

Later, Prissy has a brand new market basket to show off to the girls. It’s handy for carrying her brand new husband. He’s already picked up her manner of speaking too. A sure sign of a healthy relationship.

And in case you were wondering, Comic con was fun, everybody who commented on my costume thought I was Gogo Dodo, (his umbrella is PURPLE, thanks so much) and I didn’t get a chance to get Bob Bergen’s autograph. I knew I should have brought some handcuffs.

Favorite Part: Even Foghorn’s snoring is in character: “Zzzz… I say… Zzzz… That is.”

Personal Rating: 3. Prissy will be much better utilized here.

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A-lad-in his Lamp

“It’s too good to be true, but I’m here.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Phil DeLara, Manny Gould, John Carey, and Charles McKimson; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Effects Animation by A.C. Gamer; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 23, 1948.

We human beings tend to be rather slobby. Throwing our trash wherever we please, not bothering to recycle, or in today’s rather specific case, burying garbage. While Bugs works on building a new home, he finds a lamp. Having never read even one of the 1001 tales, Bugs doesn’t immediately realize what power he now wields. Still, some use could be made out of it. Just needs a good shining.

Since, genies (or djinn if you prefer) usually exist in a liquid state, heating their vessels with your friction allows them to evaporate and escape. There. I just gave you a viable and logical explanation for why the rubbing always must be done. And, beating Disney to the punch by 46 years, the genie here is voiced by a celebrity: Jim Backus. He is grateful for the service and offers Bugs a wish. Just one, but that’s more than you got. You may think you’ve got Bugs figured out well enough that you can guess, but with the genie constantly interrupting him, he could be wishing for anything. You know, for fun, I’ll guess.

Hmmm… “much too small”… lessee here… Got it. Bugs originally was wishing for carrot seeds. It’d be smart to start his own garden if he’s going to be living in this new area. Next. “too delicate and ‘saunsitive'”… that’s a bit tougher, but I’m sure a college-dropout like me can solve this mystery. I’ll bet he was wishing for a gross of mini-Elmer’s to mess with. The genie is right, those poor guys wouldn’t last an hour. As for that last one, Bugs was probably wishing to be able to share screen time with Mickey Mouse and not have the multiverse blow up. I’m smart and you can applaud now.

Bugs finally gets a wish made. Not one, but TWO carrots! I don’t care if you think that’s a waste of a wish. I admire those who make simple wishes. That’s why if I ever had 3 wishes I’d want: 1. to lose the ichthiophobia, 2. get my children’s book published, 3. have a bunch of friends who’d want to make an animated series with me. Basic stuff. But why am I talking about 3 wishes? The genie never offered that. In fact, now that he gave Bugs what he asked for, Smokey (as Bugs refers to him) is planning to go home to Bagdad. (Sic.) Bugs wishes that he could visit that place, but that could never happ- hey wait a minute!

The two fly off. Since Bugs didn’t specify where he wanted to go, I’m assuming Smokey is just going to take him to his place. Either it’s changed since however many years has passed, or Smokey was just the family pet. (How did he get to America anyhow? Tectonic plates?) The person occupying the palace is a caliph known as Hassen (Sic.) Pheffer. He’s a little miffed about having a rabbit just fall out of the sky, but he’s the exact opposite about a certain lamp doing the same thing. Bugs claims it as his own, and a chase begins. You’d chase too. Admit it.

I don’t know why Bugs doesn’t think he can take this guy, but he wants some assistance. Smokey, though, is in no mood. Not helped by the fact that Bugs is summoning him during bath time and meal time. Bugs tries to make an escape via magic carpet, but those things are impossible to control. He zigs, he zags, he messes with the perspective. Look, there are clearly towers in the foreground, but Bugs doesn’t stay a relative size compared to them. It bothers me because if Bugs really was that giant, he wouldn’t have to run from Mr. Pheffer. He could go Caerbannog on the guy and not get any blood around his mouth.

And Smokey still isn’t any help. When Bugs tries a third time to get some aid, the genie was trying to score with one of those rare female genies that barely exist out of sitcoms. Pissed, he tells Bugs that there is going to be hell to pay should he be disturbed once more. And I’ve heard people get mad at him treating Bugs like that. Why? Unlike other genies, he’s not calling Bugs his master, so Bugs can’t really order him around. For that matter, genies are just natural pricks. Even the Robin Williams one tended to take very little seriously, even when ordered to do evil bidding, he makes like Chernabog. Entertaining, but could grate on your nerves if you’re not in a happy mood.

When Bugs crashes back down, the lamp falls into the caliphs eager hands. One rub-a-dub and he’ll get eternal happiness! That what he thinks. Smokey wasn’t making idle threats and we never see what he does exactly, but I have a feeling he crammed the man into the lamp. Breaking his bones into gelatin, his organs to offal butter, and his blood spraying through the spigot in the process. Pleased that he got to kill someone, he offers Bugs another wish. Which means he doesn’t care that an innocent man is dead now. Natural prick. Bugs, now aware of just how powerful the genie is, gets himself a hare-rem.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Bugs accidentally peeks into a room containing what he believes to be a harem. Hearing this, Smokey gleefully takes a peek to confirm the suspicions. These are the moments he wishes that everything below the belt wasn’t vapor. (And wishes that genies could grant their own wishes.)

Well, I’m getting pretty bored of life. Reckon I should visit Comic Con one more time. If you’ve ever wanted to meet me in person, this might be it because I can’t promise I’ll attend another one afterwards. Yes, I’ll really be cosplaying as the last of the dodos.

Personal Rating: 3

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Buddy Steps Out

“Blow your nosey.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Charles Jones and Robert Clampett; Music by Bernard Brown. A Looney Tune released on July 20, 1935.

Well, somebody looks like they’re getting ready for a good time. It’s Cookie, looking way more like Betty Boop than Cookie Phudd. Definitely makes her look more grown up than usual, but she’s got that counterintuitive Bernice Hansen voice that just begs to belong to child characters. Speaking of children, Buddy looks way, way, (P.S. WAY) too young for her. She’s got a full head of height on him, and mixed with his baby face, he just looks like her little brother playing grown-up. (Whatever did happen to him?)

As the title suggests, they step out. And it would be really rude of us to follow along on their private time, so let’s stay behind. Cookie’s got a canary. What more do you need to be entertained? (I’m so boring, but I’m… happy?) Too bad Cookie couldn’t bother buying a better cage for the little guy. I don’t care how “great” a depression is, buying an animal is a commitment. If you can’t guarantee a comfortable, enjoyable, meaningful life, then you shouldn’t have a pet. (And yes, that’s why this animal lover doesn’t have a parrot, tortoise and rat.)

In other words, the bird slips out of his cage and out the open window. (Burglars love Cookie’s place. She even leaves out plates of her namesake for them.) He could potentially get back in, but its cold outside and the picture of Buddy on the desk can’t stand it. So, for the second time in the picture, Buddy steps out. With some extra muscle from an Atlas figurine, (or whatever you wanna call what a statue has) the house returns to warmer times. The poor canary realizes how good he had it by this point, but can’t enter a closed window! Buddy has moved on from torturing lower life forms, it seems.

Good thing the photo isn’t really the real Buddy. He brings the bird back in, and not a moment too soon. Little fella is frozen solid. Little Buddy solves this by placing the canary in an ash tray, and igniting a lighter underneath. Because he has all the evil thoughts of the original Buddy! Why should Cookie share her love with any other creature? I know this is killing the bird because its starting to hiccup. Just like everything does on deaths door.

Fine, it works. Sue me. (You do know how to contact me, right?) The bird is all better which means its party time. Original Buddy shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have a good time. Let’s have all the printed mascot characters in the house join in! Don’t you wish you could join in the joy of suddenly having a new dimension to move through? The girls on the soup can sing, and so does a Proto-Porky on a ham. Fittingly though, he does so in his native tongue: (say it with me) Pig Latin! Even an insect joins in the singing sesh. Quick, Henry, the Flik! It’ll teach him to join in things he wasn’t invited to.

Jiggers! The couple! Everybody had better get back to their places because Cookie is going to have a fit if she has to look after so many little ones. That means canary goes in cage, and Little Buddy gets back in his frame. Original Buddy has to see his girl off with nothing more than a kiss on the hand. Little Buddy, on the other one, gets way more action. Cookie plants four times the kisses on the photo version. On his face, yet. Being a photograph rocks. And we have Beans seeing us off. A subtle way of telling us that Buddy’s days are numbered. (Proto-Porky actually appearing in the story says the same thing about Beans.)

Favorite Part: The animals that “Flik” is said to kill include bugs, ants, slugs and snails. Oddly specific, but it’s like the animators were looking into the future saying: “Yes, Dr. Foolio, we DO know that ‘bugs’ ISN’T supposed to be a catch-all term for insects. Our made-up product won’t cause any lasting harm to beetles, roaches, flies or caterpillars. Just aphids, cicadas and water striders.”

Personal Rating: Well, I was going to give it a 3, for being fairly entertaining as far as Buddy cartoons go, but realized that it’s just another “products coming to life” picture that W.B. has no shortage of. Most if not all are better ones. If you only like the best in that category, then it’s a 2.

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Tokio Jokio

‘REGRETTABLE INCIDENT PLEASE’

Supervision by Cpl. Norman McCabe; (He was drafted. This was his final short. He never got to play with technicolor.)  Animation by I. Ellis; Story by Don Christensen; Musical Direction: Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on May 15, 1943.

Oh, boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. And three more. This is not a good cartoon. It probably brought some smiles to faces in a long bygone era, but today? Oh, boy. I am not Japanese. I’ve never been to Japan. The most I can say is that I took a cooking class with an exchange student from there. (He was a cool guy.) I don’t know how anyone who is Japanese would take this short today, but I wouldn’t be upset if they, were. This is wartime propaganda and nothing more. Even if it wasn’t problematic today, it wouldn’t be funny. There’s no smart jokes here. They’re all either weak puns, or just plain mean jabs. It gets my lowest score, so you can leave if you’re ready. I’ll press on. Not like I do anything else with my life.

This short is presented as, and I seriously quote, “Japanazi propaganda.” (Closest we’re getting to clever today.) Enemies or not, they are still humans and deal with problems during war as well. Sadly though, they all have the same unfortunate look. Squinting eyes, overgrown teeth, and ears that suggest they are members of the Ceboidea family. If you saw “Bugs Bunny Nips the Nips“, you’ve seen these caricatures. If you’ve seen these caricatures, you may understand how uncomfortable I feel describing them.

We start with a segment on civilian defense. (Given what we’re given here, I’m surprised they didn’t spell it as ‘civillain’.) Their air raid siren comprises of two guys who take turns poking each other’s rears with a needle. Since they’re Japanese, they are very polite throughout the process, tipping hats and bowing between turns. (Kill me. Go on. I won’t be missed.) We also see a tip on how to handle incendiary bombs. What you want to do is stay clear for at least five seconds. Then you can use them to roast franks. (Still kills a man though. At least he’s getting out of here early.)

Kitchen hints comes closer to a joke than many here. It’s a gag I could see done with American folks: Making a sandwich out of ration cards. If there wasn’t another hurtful caricature, I’d name it as my favorite part. Oh geeze. I’m going to have to supply one of those as well. Ohhhhhhhhhh, boy. In other gags, clothing is one of those topics we can all familiarize with. The latest Japanese fashions have no cuffs, pleats or lapels. In fact, it’s little more than a diaper. Let’s all mock our adversaries in the style of 5-year olds. (Really. Death. I welcome it.)

Headline personalities is spelt as ‘poisonalities’. And really? Even the little skull has to have squinty sockets and oversized mandibles? Well, look at the general run during an air raid. Isn’t worrying about your life cowardly? And look, when he runs into a skunk, (In Japan?) its the Mephitidae donning a gas mask. (Do you want to make fun of his weight next? I don’t think you picked a low enough hanging fruit.) We even get a look at what Hitler and Mussolini are up to, courtesy of Lord Hee Haw. Having a donkey head is actually the least offensive design we’ve seen. (His left eye whites out.)

We finish up with pokes about their navy. Ships are launched before finished, aircraft carries are loaded up with shot-down planes, and a literal mine sweeper blows up. Blegh. Finally. It’s over and… No. NO!  I’d know that drum anywhere! Please, don’t. Buddy, pal, the one guy I’m always willing to defend. Don’t do it! Don’t show yourself! Don’t- AUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Porky, why? Why, Porky, why? Why can’t I pretend my favorite character of anything is a real breathing, living person, who was under contract and could choose to say his line, or find a new job? *sigh* Because I’m the brutally honest type. I’m crying myself to sleep tonight.

Favorite Part: *you serious? glare followed by an even bigger sigh* I choose Hitler getting a ‘wish you were here’ card from a concentration camp. At least I can agree with that.

Personal Ra- 1. You’re not surprised, I”m not surprised. This was a guaranteed 1 from 3/1/2011. I feel bad for Norm. None of his shorts are anywhere near the best, but this one aged like botulized milk.