“Oh, Harriet! Here we go again!”
Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese and Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Harris, Phil Monroe, Ben Washam, and Lloyd Vaughan; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Peter Alvarado; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. A Looney Tune released on February 7, 1948.
An unnamed human of the Native American variety is hunting rabbits. He lets us know in mock sign language, and fittingly, the subtitles are equally mocking. This picture isn’t the easiest to watch. Plenty of outdated stereotyping, mixed with an annoying nasally voice. He’s also wearing no shirt, but lacks nipples. Just thought I’d point that out.
And as is common of Bugs’s adversaries, he’s not the smartest. He can talk to a rabbit, face to face, and still be convinced that the rabbit he’s searching for can be found by following the labeled signs. One of which states that there’s also a hare down there. Always great to have options. The man runs all the way home to get his bow and arrows, (raising the question why he didn’t have those on hand already,) and begins his hunt anew. (Woah! Did you see his foot overlap the hole? Neat feet!)
Hiding in the quiver, Bugs keeps calling out his supposed whereabouts, and getting the man to waste his arrows. Have a heart! Those things are expensive! Bugs bends one to make it return to sender, and after the man gets appointed, Bugs says he’s right over there. Bugs himself becomes the next arrow fired, and manages to give a kiss before he’s released. He laughs at his good fortune, but flies right into a tree. Advantage: the man. Bugs finds himself tied to a stake, whilst the man starts cooking some vegetables. Bugs is gonna be force fed and like it!
Being tied up limits Bugs’s fleeing prowess, but he can still hop away. The man, being the agreeable sort, picks up the pot and hops after. Bugs hops away again, the man hops after again. Eventually, Bugs realizes that if he stops hopping, but the man doesn’t, he’ll still end up away from him and his pot. Now that he’s got space to think, Bugs can come up with a new trick. I do like how we don’t get to see how he got untied. We just expected he would be, and the creators ran with it.
Bugs chooses to pelt the man with snow. Which really is cold. Doing so in July, (which is one of the only 12 months worth living through) makes it all the worse. How do you sleep at night? Bugs has a very logical reason though: it’d be too cold to do this in winter. I can’t find fault with that. The man realizes that he’s going to nee to use his brain to catch this rabbit, so he sets up a phony barber shop. Guaranteed to be the last scalp treatment you’ll ever need. Not at all fooled, Bugs enters.
And he reads the paper. The man tells him its his turn, but Bugs is also rather agreeable, and tells the man he can go first. He was there before Bugs after all, and Bugs is fair hare. The man is grateful and takes his seat. Bugs takes the role of barber, and can’t help but think how much more fun this would be with an operatic overhaul. Some other time, perhaps. He knocks the man out with his pocket tomahawk, and sticks him outside the establishment with cigars. Okay. That was pretty funny. And wouldn’t be possible with Elmer.
The man is still on Bugs’s tail, so Bugs decides to use it as an outboard motor. He flies ahead, but stops at a nearby water pump. He’s got an idea! Mixing water with mud makes clay, and mixing clay with heat makes ceramics. (You ever play “Doodle God”? I liked that game.) He breaks his new vase on his pursuers head, claiming his victory over… over… say, who is this chap, anyhow? Just because I’ve been calling him ‘the man’ doesn’t mean his parents did. He identifies himself as you’d expect: the last of the Mohicans.
Bugs calls his b.s. by pointing to the sky. Storks abound with carbon copies of the Mohican. Who says you can’t be born with glasses? (I says: “Those bundles keep changing color.”) Not feeling he’s father material, the Mohican faints. Bugs laughs, but takes the leaf out of his book when he sees the storks aren’t limited to delivering Homo sapiens. What’s more is the amount of young rabbits have: a litter.
Favorite Part: Bugs removing a mousetrap from the Mohican’s hand and declaring that none of the bones are broken. The fingers are bent the opposite way, but they’re definitely not broken.
Personal Rating: I teeter on the edge of 1 and 2, but ultimately lean towards the former. It’s not just the racism, it’s the voice. It annoys me. The score might not be impartial, but it never has been. That’s why I label it as ‘personal’.