Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by John Carey and Dave Hoffman; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on November 4, 1939.
When you first start out at something, you suck at it. Very few exceptions to this rule. Maybe Mozart, and most likely Mel. Probably even more than I care to list, really. Much as I wish Porky could be included, the evidence of the the two piper films he starred in contradict him. Spoilers, I guess.
The cartoon starts with the legal disclaimer that all rats featuring will only coincidentally look like your cousin’s husband. (Yeah, as if any human ever was that cute.) The news of the day is how the Pied Piper rid the town of rats, and was nice enough to not kidnap any children. But you know what? Amusing as that paper and its puns were, it was false news. There is still at least one rodent running rampant. He’s clearly a mouse, despite what the short says. Are you really going to doubt me: a zoologist without a degree?
Porky lays on the music, and tries to lure (we’re calling him) Rochfort to a trap. He stops short at the last moment, calling us crazy to think he’d go there. Now, this could be another instance of a mouse, being unfairly and unexplainedly immune to the tunes. Or, you can believe what I want to believe: he snaps out of it because Porky stopped playing and he has awesome reaction speed. That’s the correct theory. He’s also smart enough to recognize the threat and break the pipe. Or is it an oboe? Actually, what exactly are the pipes that pipers pipe? Because gift or not, I’m not allowing BAGpipes in my twelve days of Christmas.
Things call for a better mousetrap, but you can’t build those anymore. Nature can supply though. Just select your favorite snake, hawk, weasel, owl, bullfrog, or scorpion to do the job for you. No takers? Good thing there’s no shortage of animals that eat mice! How about a cunning raccoon? Or a beautiful gila monster? A misunderstood tarantula? Or I guess you could choose a crummy cat. But wouldn’t you rather use anything else? As a zoologist without a degree I can’t imagine Felis catus is the best choice for anything other than a meal.
Wow. A whole paragraph about nothing. I’m improving. Porky’s feline, Slapsy Catsy, (no relation) isn’t really that great at catching mice. He’s afraid of the little things. A phobia I just could not understand, but I won’t mock him since he validated my claims of that not being a rat. In fact, that opening text promised me ratS, plural. Lying isn’t very nice. Neither is eating cats, but that’s what Porky said I get to do if Slapsy doesn’t put forth some effort.
A small chase unfolds. Did you know that cats have the weakest skulls of the animal kingdom? If it makes sudden impact with a wall, the cat dies nine times. Porky lends credence to my theory of him being Jesus, by forcing the cat to live by shoving his ninth soul back into its flesh prison. Then, it’s time for a dose of kat-nip. Put that away. No reward until the job is done right. (Unless it’s 4/20.) Wait, my mistake. I really thought I typed “cat nip” earlier. This stuff is steroids on steroids. Not only building the cat’s muscles, but returning every life back for round two. Someone is definitely gon’ die now!
And once the scuffle is over, Rochfort comes out wearing his new pelt of genuine ermine. Look pal, I put up with it when Elmo said that, on account of him being a moron. You should either admit you know better, or stop pretending like Slapsy only killed your roommate.
Favorite Part: Slapsy cowering in fear. Growing women legs turns to cringe to mirth.
Personal Rating: 2. If you couldn’t tell by the name I gave, Rochfort could be seen as offensive today. The jokes aren’t the funniest and there’s a shocking lack of Porky. Inexcusable.
