“I tawt I taw a tweety bird.”
Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Virgil Ross, Arthur Davis, Manuel Perez, and Ken Champin; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. Music: Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 5, 1953.
That title is a lie. Sylvester is very much a pet today. But the pun! Too tempting! And yet, Tweety still gets the star billing. He’s been around longer.
Things start off in the style of their first team-up: Tweety is taking note of how winter is the death of all joy and will to live in the world, and only barely managing to stay warm via the heat of a cigar butt. Fate’s wind blows him into a house, and he bangs on the door, pleading for sanctuary. He’s putting a lot of effort into his door pounding, but no human would be able to hear his little fist-wings over the howl of that gale. That door would need to be answered by a feline, but what, are we supposed to believe this is a cartoon?
Sylvester is delighted by what is on the other side of the door. You gotta take advantage when opportunity knocks, and take it he does. It always makes me laugh when he licks Tweety like a ice-pop. That’s as far as he gets before Granny is attracted by the noise. She’d probably try to interfere and keep him from eating something crawling with germs. Sylvester sticks his treat in a vase with books on top to prevent any escapes. Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, Granny takes him to the kitchen for supper.
As is expected of a cat, he turns his nose up at the canned stuff. See, cats were just never meant to be pets like pigs. Don’t ask me how humanity got their roles mixed up. All I can tell you youngin’s about is the glory of movie rental stores. There’s a third mammal in the house too: Hector the bulldog, but he’s tied up with a broken leg. Somehow got it from chasing Sylvester. He shouldn’t be an obstacle, but Sylvester is a black cat, and they’re like bad luck or something.
Granny takes notice of the oddly placed books, meaning Sylvester is going to have to act fast and cause a distraction. Anything that will further hurt the dog will be a plus. He makes Hector’s injured paw slam on the ground, and the dog howls. (The howls of pain in this short may sound familiar. I’ve heard them get reused in the films like “George of the Jungle” and games like “Frogger 2: Swampy’s Revenge”.) Properly distracted, Granny comes to give him medicine to ease the pain. Judging by the fear in his eyes and the green in his pallor, it’s nasty stuff.
When Sylvester finally gets back to his prize, he finds a TNT stick instead. The chase leads back over to Hector who gives the cat a bite. That sounded like a howl of pain! And that medicine isn’t the kind that you have to wait at least four hours between doses. Granny could make him chug the whole bottle if it wasn’t so expensive. Sylvester does a stupid thing in his panic, and hides Tweety in the dog’s mouth. Luckily, the medicine isn’t fatal to birds, as Tweety ends up taking the worst of it. But it’s a temporary victory, since when Hector smacks Sylvester with a club, his howls of pain summon Granny for a repeat performance.
Tweety decides to stick with Hector for protection, leading Sylvester to drastic measures. He hoists the fridge up via a rope, and aims to drop it on Hector. Even though the dog is for sure under its shadow, it ends up dropping on Sylvester. Black cats. Why aren’t there more cartoons where the bad luck they bring affects themselves? Sylvester is now laid up next to Hector and worse yet, will be subjected to the same toxic tonics. And worse than that? Tweety has been fiddling with the stuff and added whatever and so forth to the bottle. If Sylvester doesn’t die, the best case scenario will be like something out of Roald Dahl’s imagination.
Favorite Part: Hector saying Tweety will be taken over his dead body. (Which is surreal to hear him say after watching the entirety of “The Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries” and hearing him speak not but typical canine noises.) Sylvester says that condition can be arranged. It’s cliche, but its always cool when someone says they’ll take them up on it.
Personal Rating: 3
Oh, and here’s this:
I know if you read my blog that you’ll have already seen this, but I wouldn’t be a good fan if I didn’t put it up. I’m excited, but cautious.