Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Keith Darling, George Grandpre, and Ted Bonnicksen; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Bob Majors; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl Stalling, Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on May 11, 1957.
There’s an alarm going off in the chicken coop! I bet it was a fox, because there’s one vacating the premises now! Barnyard rushes over to the one who pulled the alarm, some young rooster. Barnyard doesn’t take him too seriously, because he’s just a kid with adult plumage. Doesn’t help that the little guy can’t use any big-boy words. The Dawg interprets the squawks as asking for a drink of water. Water is delicious and all that, but why even have the alarm if you won’t take it seriously? Has he cried fox before?
Foghorn has no interest in pranks today. He aims to go fishing. Roosters love fish! They’re basically the same animal in different biomes. The foxy rascal catches sight, and hatches an idea. Nothing as dumb as trying to eat the bird willingly walking off the premises, (he’s 65% salmonella from all his fishing) no, his plan requires donning a disguise that makes him look like he deals in cocaine, and telling Foggy point blank that he isn’t going fishing. He should take the local hunting dog and go hunting. Roosters love the power that comes from wielding a fire arm, and goes to fetch B.D.
Barnyard resists, saying he has to continue to guard. (Leading me to believe that he’d love to go if he had free time. It’s what he was bred for, after all.) The fox tries to get some dinner, (That green hen doesn’t look ripe enough.) but the little rooster from before pulls the cord again, and the Pavlovian treatment gets Barnyard to rush back, dragging Foghorn behind him. Foghorn gets slammed into a birdhouse, and that just kinda kills his urge to hunt. It really would be weird; him being classified as a game bird, and all. And seeing as there’s no fox, Barnyard gets the kid more water. Hydrate to feel great!
The fox already has a new scheme. Playing game show host, he ushers Foghorn into a booth with two buzzers. Here’s the question: he’s got to recite the poem that contains the words “red” and “blue” and, once he’s got it figured out, recite it, pushing the buzzers when he mentions the hues. That’s too vague! I mean my answer was:
The color of burns and embarrassment, sure, but also luscious, ripe apples and good cuts of meat. Stop for the fist hue of the rainbow and bow: red. On the other extreme: cool, calming, and collected. A friendly sky, a majestic ocean, and animals you should not ingest. You shouldn’t feel sad when you behold: blue.
And that fox had the audacity to not only say I was wrong, but that my poetry is amateurish! I can’t take criticisms if they’re wrong!
Foghorn claims that the answer goes” Roses are red…” and he pushes, unaware that the device is connected to dynamite that the fox stuck in Barnyard’s mouth. Even though he was asleep, and Foghorn is a sound-muffling room, he knows exactly the accompanying line and pushes the buzzer himself once he’s donated his explosive to Foghorn. Man, this game show has everything!
Foghorn decides to go fishing after all. The fox meanwhile, has tricked Barnyard into leaping into a magic box. It’s magic because it’s fairly large, but can be folded into a pocket sized cube. He gives it to Foghorn, claiming it to be a lucky charm for fishermen. Roosters, that is. Actually, he charges Foggy ten dollars. Helps keep up the charade, you know. All Foghorn has to do, is blow on the charm thrice, then toss it over his left shoulder. Following these directions has the charm landing in a well. Best hope you did it perfectly!
Barnyard escaped, and you’ll never know how he did it. He folds Foghorn up and toss him in the well. That’s just a really fun bit of cartoonery you don’t see unless a character has already been flattened. I like it. Foggy finally asks why Barnyard is beating him up today, as he’s been particularly kind today. (I.E. out of character.) Barnyard says he’s interfering with his guarding, but that was only the first time! Foghorn catches the real culprit entering the enclosure once more, but holds Barnyard back as he’s got a plan of his own.
The fox has cut the cord for the alarm, but the little rooster still gets it to ring by pulling the severed end. Even though, as far as the fox knows his latest scheme worked, he flees. He runs into Foggy and the Dawgy dressed up like he originally was. Knowing that everything has been figured out, he struggles to come up with an explanation, but the two aren’t hearing it. They don duelist uniforms, turn, and shoot the fox. That was just the appetizer though, they let him have a head start as they get into their next outfits: horse and fox hunter.
The hunt isn’t on though. It’s the little roosters turn to don the slicker duds and tell the two that they won’t be doing as they plan. Mainly because the cartoon is over, but also because… actually just that. The cartoon is over.
Favorite Part: Barnyard getting fed up with the kid “asking for water” and planning to just bean him with a hammer. Oh, quit whining about child abuse. 1. The kid fights hammer with hammer. 2. I’m still not even sure that’s a kid.
Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animatin by Art Davis, Manuel Perez, and Virgil Ross; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on August 28, 1954.
As animated series like “School House Rock”, “The Magic School Bus”, and “Animaland” can attest, learning doesn’t have to suck. Therefore, I for one propose that Bugs teach us about American History. Because the country’s birthiversary is this upcoming week, and if you don’t know anything about who/what you’re celebrating, then brother, you’re hardly celebrating at all.
It starts when his nephew, Clyde is struggling to learn about the past. (I’ve discussed Clyde before, but this is his final theatrical appearance.) Wouldn’t be that much of a big deal, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s going to have a test on the subject later today. (That and his books blend into the carpet.) Bugs offers to help. (Clyde: “Do you *half a second pause* know about American history, Uncle Bugs?”) Turns out history is loaded with rabbits. They’ve been involved with Columbus, Napoleon, Nazi Germany, The 1943 Oscars, and the invention of gunpowder. You can quote me on this because I’m a valuable resource.
Bugs starts when the Dutch bought New York for a song. And I mean that in the punniest fashion. The Native Chief got a really good deal. Then pretty much nothing happened for over a hundred years until Benjamin Franklin *clears throat* “discovered” electricity. It was all thanks to the rabbit who held his kite just as lightning struck it. Ben took the credit, because taking the credit is mankind’s greatest invention.
Then a war was set to happen because The King put tacks on the tea. (Punniest. Way.) This could not be stood for, so an army was drafted. The backgrounds have a U.P.A. minimalistic design that goes all the way when we get to George Washington. They’re so minimal, that they cease to exist! Don’t walk into the void, George! It’s probably dangerous! I don’t see any food, for one thing. Wait. He’s fine. It’ll be a bit of a struggle to leave his candy shop, but his wife will just have to handle it herself until he wins independence.
If this is going to be its own country, it’s going to need a flag. A woman named Betsy Ross was assigned the task of sewing it up. She’s got six red stripes that represents all the blood that will be spillt, five white ones that represent the skin tone of the generals, and a blue section that is supposed to be the ocean, which the country will be surrounded by, some day. A rabbit gave her the idea for a finishing touch after he stepped on a rake and saw ten stars. Never having learned to count, she added thirteen.
It was a bitter fight. Cold winters made ice cream men enemies of the sate. What have we become? War truly changes a man. Eventually though, the enemy fleet was bottled up. (Pun. Knee. Est.) Once Washington crossed the Delaware River, victory was won. Simple as that. And that was pretty much everything that happened between then and 1954. This is a very boring country. The next thing worth noting would be Disneyland opening the following year.
Perfect timing! The school bell is chiming and Clyde’s got a test to ace. Bugs is such a good uncle. A guncle, if you will. When school lets out, Clyde comes back angrily glaring. It’s quite funny. Bugs can’t figure out why he’d be scowling like this, so Clyde spells it out for him: D-U-N-C-E C-A-P. I’m sorry kid, but penmanship counts.
Favorite Part: The king is really getting his jollies when he puts tacks on the tea. It’s good to see leaders put the riot in dictator.
Personal Rating: 2. I did say punniest, rather than funniest. I just don’t feel like the jokes were powerful enough. They could have gone farther, but then I guess it would have ended with Clyde getting sent to Special Ed. (Because that’s how they’d handle it at the time, thank you.)
Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Sid Marcus; Animation by Phil DeLara, Charles McKimson, Herman Cohen, and Rod Scribner; Layouts by Robert Givens; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Music by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on March 12, 1955.
Hippety Hopper has star billing! Makes me wonder if the audiences even knew him by name. But don’t worry, Sylvester will still be around. Although, don’t we all want to see a solo Hippety venture? It probably wouldn’t be that great, but sometimes that’s what makes something truly great. It makes sense if you’re high/pretentious.
Night on the ocean means only one major source of light: a lighthouse. It’s an imperative piece of equipment, for it prevents ships from dashing into the rocky shore of dangerous beaches. It’s also disrupting the sleep patterns of a moose that lives within it. Good thing you’re nocturnal. Problem averted. Go away. I mean, oh, the poor thing is sleep deprived. It’s only right that he unplug the beacon. A terrible loss of human life is a risk I’m willing to take.
Almost immediately, a ship crashes, losing some of its cargo in the process. But no lives! Inside, a parrot awakes the keeper to alert of the blackout. I’ve decided to call him Scott because he sounds Scott-ish. This isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened, since he knows all too well that a moose is the culprit. Why the moose doesn’t just find a different place to live, or kill the keeper is beyond me. Scott has a cat on hand to handle moose and sends Sylvester to do his duty.
One of the cargo boxes contained a baby kangaroo, en route to a zoo. I’m guessing those on the ship were poachers who are willing to sell marsupials on the black market to the kind of zoos that I just told you, last week, are not the kind of zoos worth talking about. I’m glad the little guy escaped, but do wish he could have found somewhere with a bit more food. This ain’t no peninsula, he’s waterlocked. But he does spy what appears to be a playmate, climbing the stairs. He follows.
Sylvester sets a moosetrap, but catches a kangaroo. Logically, he should’ve used a kangarootrap. (If I’ve made that lousy joke before, I don’t care, but if you could remind me when I did, I’ll add a link to it.) Frightened to pieces, he runs down to the bathroom to get a good look at himself; see if there’s anything wrong with him. Nah. But there’s something wrong with the mirror. Your muzzle isn’t black. I hate when reflections mess with you. They’re supposed to copy us! We… we are the real ones… right?
The moose gets Hippety… well not freed, but untrapped. This was no free act of kindness, however. It’s the joey’s turn to return the favor. He agrees, and unplugs the light once more. Interesting that Hippety seems to perfectly understand moose, but never can tell a cat what he’s supposed to be. Maybe he doesn’t know himself. He’s still a baby. Sylvester has taken some vitamins by now, so he’s ready to try again. After he does a smart thing, of course: nailing the plug into the socket. He readies a club at the approaching shadow, but swings too high as it was belonging to a moose.
The moose was carrying a mallet, so he mallets Sylvester’s feet. He ducks into a compartment under the main bulb, and when Slyvester thinks he’s corned him, opens up to find a thrashing from a “big moose”. When he’s thrown down again, the real moose cuts the wire in two. He doesn’t get any electrocution because he’s small, and the current went through his body, harmlessly. I’m pretty sure that’s something Bill Nye taught me once. He knows about science, guys. Scott is coming to thrash the cat for failing, but Sylvester manages to keep things flowing by allowing himself to become part of the current. He’s a hero!
Sylvester tapes things back up unaware the the moose has tied an explosive into the wire. Once it blows, not only is Sylvester a bit more hurt, but the wire is reduced to scattered pieces. The moose won, and that’s how moose began to rule the world. Scott returns to make good of that thrashing. He’s not going to try taking care of any rodents, because he’s diurnal. But he does have a plan to get that light going again.
Everyone sleeps peacefully. Scott has the light running, and the two pests found that the light can’t reach them in the compartment under the bulb. Sylvester is never going to sleep at night again. Scott’s solution was to hook him up to a car battery, and let him become the new beacon. It’s hell on the corneas, but there never was an ‘I’ in cat to begin with.
Super Ultimate Happy Funtime Challenge: Find the color changing nose and you win!
Favorite Part: Sylvester gets some good pummeling on the moose in the little compartment, but to be fair to everybody, every time the doors shut, the positions are swapped, and Hippety can give Sylvester his share.
Directed by Chuck Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Ken Harris, Abe Levitow, Richard Thompson, Keith Darling, and Ben Washam. Layouts and Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Effects Animation by Harry Love; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Orchestrations by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on October 10, 1959.
For the latest Road Runner chase, the credits are incorporated into Wile E.’s failed attempts. A true genius learns to work with your failures, so when Wile’s rocket hits a rock and he’s flung off, he utilizes the momentum to make his grab. He smashes into an archway. Well, he’s still got about five minutes to fill. What other schemes will fail today? Remember, the ones which don’t kill you, teach.
Wile E. tries to drop a rock on the R.R. It can change color, so it’s probably an octopus. (Yes, in the desert.) Wouldn’t you guess? It will not fall. He’s gonna have to jump on it to get it started. And not a quick “off-and-on” hop. I mean the real kind of jump. Better do several, just to be safe. That gets gravity off its lazy posterior. When Wile E. notices where he’s at, I can’t tell if he loses his scelera, or just gets one of those anime expressions where the eyes become little dots. What do you call those expressions? Does TV Tropes have any answers?
To save himself, Wile E. starts running. He runs fast enough to get the rock spinning, and it starts to slow his descent. If I knew anything about physics, I could explain in great detail why this works. Instead, you can see me say “It really works that way!” It really works that way! But the rock is pointed on its bottom end, and when spun, it acts as a drill. Upon touchdown, it bores into the ground below it, and right into a train tunnel. Complete with train. Miraculously, the rock gets the brunt of the attack, and Wile E. is relatively unharmed. Just dizzy. He should utilized those spinning powers. I’ve heard that animals with that tactic can succeed in Road Runner eating.
You can’t beat Acme’s prices. You can buy railroad track by the mile and tens of millions of feet of lumber at a fraction of the cost A-Jax charges. Add a rocket sled and you can build your own track for chasing your prey. Once again, things play out logically. Too much steep tracks builds up too much speed, and rather than straightening out onto the horizontal plane, Wile E. crashes through. (I still think you’re a genius! Build me a time machine!)
Big finish time! Wile E. has got himself one of those indestructo steel balls I’d keep telling my wife to buy me if I had a wife. The reviews are great. It really is indestructo and once inside, it’s like an absolutely safe capsule. But you can exit when you want! Awesome! Wile E. attempts to flatten Roady to the road, but just misses. A naturally bent rock formation flings him into a river. There’s plenty of oxygen his the ball, so Wile E. starts pushing himself to shore. But it’s not shore, it’s a… oh, dam.
Going over, he is tossed around the rapids below. This would probably be really fun if there was some sort of gyrosphere inside to keep you steady. But don’t worry, I’m still entertained. Rolling out, Wile E. leaves safety, dizzy, but living. An incoming train sends him back in, and he is swatted into a mine field. He explodes along, but the ball is still indestructo. It may be battered, but it’s still in one piece, and ultimately flung back to where it all began. And the bird watches as it all begins again. I give Wile E. a week tops before he’s going to opt for death. Yes, there are that many trains passing through.
Favorite Part: Road Runner’s got a great scientific name today: Batoutahelius. A way cooler sounding genus than Homo.
Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by George Grandpre, Ted Bonnicksen, and Keith Darling; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on April 13, 1957.
Hey, when was the last time I discussed one of Taz’s shorts? Year one? I guess I can tell you my dark secret: I think “Tales of Earthsea” is a great film. Wait, I meant the other one: out of the Tunes’ main cast, Taz is my least favorite. That dosen’t mean I hate him because I don’t! If you can spare me a paragraph or two, I’ll explain my feelings on the guy. Like I should’ve done in year one.
First, the good. And it outweighs the bad. I love his design. Asking people who’ve never heard of Sarcophilus harrisii to just draw what comes to mind when they hear ‘Tasmanian Devil’ is brilliant, if zoologically inaccurate. And he helps introduce people to a lesser-known species. (Pretty sure I knew of him before the real deal.) And his means of locomotion. Becoming a dust devil is one of the most originally unique things I’ve ever heard of. You don’t get imagination like that every day! And marsupials definitely do this!
I couldn’t think of a third example.
The bad? Let’s be real, he kind of is a flat character. His one note is being a wild animal, and he does it great! And his voice. Maybe I can blame my autism, but I’m not a big fan of his shrieking snarls and raspberries. But I can appreciate how much funnier it makes it when he says something coherent. For me, Taz works best in small doses. He’s like mustard. Makes the whole dish better, but I can’t stomach a pudding-cup full. Let’s finally get started.
A crate of carrots are being air-dropped to Tasmania. It’s a pretty moronic way to send mail, but I’ve heard the wildlife is very dangerous, and I don’t think the insurance can cover any more casualties. Bugs made the mistake of sleeping in the patch these carrots were harvested from, and wakes to a whole new locale. But it has eerily similar stampedes to ones he saw in… where did the previous short take place?
He’s able to get a crocodile to stop and tell him what all the fear is about. Even though the reptile folds himself into a traveling case, he still dispenses a pamphlet that will answer all. (B. the B., I don’t think your disguise will help. “Animal-in-origin” means it still has some of the original flavor.) The informational booklet gets right to the point and warns tourists of the Tasmanian Devil. Ferocious, dangerous, and continuously hungry; not to mention it eats just about the entirety of the animal kingdom. Bugs isn’t entirely convinced such a beast even exists.
Well, speak of that devil! He’s gotten taller than I last saw him! He’s recycled animationing his way over right now. (It’s fun to peruse Taz’s diet list. It suggests that he’s the reason we don’t see any unicorns, and has done what Wile E. will never do.) The pamphlet was saving it for last, but yes, rabbits are also a meal of choice. Ever the cool one, Bugs claims to be a monkey as that wasn’t one of the animals listed. (But probably only because there aren’t monkeys in Tasmania.)
Taz still gives chase, tearing every tree in the forest down a peg and a half. When Bugs thinks he’s rid of him, Taz grabs him by the ears. He’s not as dumb as you might think, as he questions why a monkey would have a rabbit’s tail. Fade-in on a trussed Bugs with an apple in his mouth. Classic presentation is always trendy! Since he’s not going anywhere, Taz takes some time to work on his salad side-dish. Sure, it’s leaning too heavily on toppings to be healthy, but the squirrels, raccoons, turtles, fish, and mice are the best parts! (Did Bugs have to watch them die?)
Bugs points out an important fact: salad doesn’t pair well with rabbit. Its best friend is a Wild Turkey Surprise. A dish he’d be happy to prepare if he was able to use his limbs. Taz is sold, and I can’t blame him. That sounds awesome! Shame that in this health-conscious world, Bugs decides to make it with artificial poultry: T.N.T. At least Taz still liked it. A little gas never hurt anyone. But he’s still mad. Still hungry? Has he realized Bugs pulled a fast one? Bugs needs a reason to duck into the nearby Trader Mac’s? All three it is!
Grabbing a box of lipstick, a broom, a dress and a bear trap, Bugs sets to making a disguise. Love the shopkeep’s expression. I choose to believe animals can’t talk in this picture, and he just saw a rabbit rob him. (Grab me one of those shrunken heads while you’re there, huh Bugs?) And that disguise? Probably his hottest one ever. And that’s coming from someone who isn’t even attracted to Tasmanian she-devils. Good thing that’s another species not on the approved foods list. Taz likes. Taz l-i-i-i-i-kes!
That jagged metal kiss only turns him on fiercer. But wait, if his first cartoon is to be believed then isn’t he…? Yep. Still married. The Mrs. is none too pleased to find him cheating on her. (His name is Claude?) That rotten pamphlet! It can’t even correctly state what the scariest animal is! Same as everywhere else, it’s a woman scorned.
Favorite Part: In traditional cartoon fashion, Taz makes a wide variety of sounds when he sees an attractive body. The tiny “rowr” is the best part!
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 naught 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.
Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Ted Bonnicksen and Arthur Davis; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Music by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on July 9, 1955.
That title is the title of my favorite show! It’s a program where they take someone from the audience, usually well known, and honor them by asking about their life story, showing some clips from their past, bringing on important people from their history, maybe even giving you a present at the end. Just in case it’s me this week, my guest stars will be named Richard, Megan, and Sabra. (The first two will not be pleased to interact with me again.) My gift can be every one of my characters as drawn by an animator I admire. Sally Cruikshank can do my self-insert, Tartakovsky can do the assassin, and Gooseworx can do the pogo-stick creature that has fingers coming out of its arms.
Drat my luck! Considering the celebs we got in the audience, I don’t fancy my chances. Granny, Bugs AND Daffy? I’ll be lucky to appear on the camera feed. Emcee Elmer says that our mystery guest is beloved in motion pictures, so that rules out me and Buddy. The person also is thoughtful of others, generous, charitable… Daffy is certain it’s none other than himself. Admitting that this constant praise would only be embarrassing if it wasn’t all true. And here comes Elmer now. Daffy happily introduces himself and tells Elmer that there’s much to tell. Don’t waste time talking to the rabbit next to him, just read out the name already!
So after Bugs is summoned to the stage, Elmer asks for him to start from the beginning. Bugs describes a scene he saw in “Fantasia” once. The Earth was young and tumultuous. Quakes and volcanoes abounded, but in a bit of water, life was starting out as microscopic blobs called protists. They probably used their flagella to kiss. That’s too far back for Elmer’s liking, so Bugs fast-forwards to 1947, when a hare was born in Manhattan. We’re in a clip show after all. Shame Elmer cuts it after his first words. He wants to talk about the first time they met. Would that be “A Wild Hare” or “The Old Grey Hare“?
Guess I’m a pretty poor scholar. They first met in “Hare Do“. Duh! We just get to see Elmer lured over a cliff, before it’s time to move on. I love Bugs’s cheeky grin at remembering this. And Elmer’s book changes colors too. Elmer is a wizard. Time for a voice from Bugs’s past. It’s loud, gruff, rough, tough, devoid of fluff, buff, full of guff, a bit of huff, and that’s enough: it’s Yosemite Sam. Come to tell about the time Bugs was on his ship. Always a good idea to remember “Buccaneer Bunny“, but Sam never said it was a picture. Was he really a pirate in this continuity? Has he done hard prison time, then? Did he ever get another parrot?
Bugs is enjoying this trip through memory lane, but he’s the only one laughing. He even makes note of the time he threw lit matches in Sam’s powder room. Great callback! But the next two are total fabrications. Putting eels in their bed sounds kinda crass for Bugs, and covering them in cement is too dark. Elmer and Sam start plotting at this point, putting a lit bomb in a box for the bunny. Bugs takes it, but tries regifting once he hears it ticking. Do time bombs get lit fuses? A game of (extremely) hot potato erupts. Despite everything indicating the bomb was lit onstage and seen by everybody, Daffy decides to claim it for himself. Ah, but he probably had his eyes shut for most of it. Pleased to get what he claims is rightfully is, he explodes with happiness.
Favorite Part: Daffy complaining about his limelight being stolen by a nobody. While he rants, Granny starts looking for something. He correctly guess it’s her umbrella she wants, so he hands it to her. Glad to have it back, she smacks him. Almost makes me ignore the crazy eyes she has. Do the elderly enjoy crack?
Personal Rating: 3. I’m normally not so generous to the shorts that reuse clips, but the wrap around segment was enjoyable, took up most of the screen time, and showed a beautiful contrast of Bugs and Daffy’s egos.
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.
Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Arthur Davis, Gerry Chiniquy and Ted Bonnicksen; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Music by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on August 20, 1955.
Do you like animal abuse? That’s great if you do, because I love animal abuser abuse. You’ll enjoy today’s picture, and I’ll enjoy cutting your toes off. One. By. One.
I’m joking. The cartoon doesn’t go too far in the bad taste department. I’m sure there are some overly sensitive types who won’t find anything here funny. I’m just here to supply a summary and a grade. With new visitors weekly, it’s always good of me review how things work around here.
Suzanne is a little girl who likes to have fun. Hard fun. The kind that makes you a villain in the “Toy Story” franchise. She requests an actual cat because, as she puts it, “Their heads down’t come off!” That means she once tried it. Her mom denies her. If the kid can’t take care of her toys, why should she be trusting with a living, breathing, capable of bleeding, animal? (That and her overalls change color.) Enter Sylvester. He’s on the run from a bulldog and has taken refuge in Suzanne’s yard. She declares him her new pet, and it’s either that or the dog. Sylvester opts for option A.
Now, a good rule of thumb for adopting any animal off the street is to start things off by bathing them. Young as she it, Suzanne doesn’t know that a washing machine is for clothes and clothes alone. Good thing this is a cartoon and therefore already devoid of oxygen. It’s rough, but Sylvester is clean now. Time for some food. The two creep to the kitchen, but Mrs. Suzannesmomerson is on the alert. And immediately guesses that her daughter brought a cat in the house. She really has no reason to suspect this. Unless Sylvester isn’t a first attempt…
Suzanne hides him in the fridge until the heat is off. Okay. That was a cheap shot. She tries to warm him up via electric blanket, but sets it too high. I’ve heard of hot dogs, but not cats. Okay. That was an awful shot. Kitchen is off limits, so Suzanne has got to improvise. Luckily she’s a kid! They have imagination that can make anything edible! What we call ‘mud’, she calls “liver and sardines”. And it’s like the old party question goes: would you rather eat mud or be eaten by a dog? The former isn’t too good on your teeth, or entire digestive tract really unless you’re an earthworm. Long term or short term; which is the right death for you?
Suzanne is fairly cute, but she does have a heavy lidded expression that suggests ample television viewing. But c’mon, it’s ‘Captain Electronic! in outer space’! All the kids are watching it, and it has generational appeal. It’s the 50’s “Bluey”! And it molds impressionable minds. Suzanne has an idea that loses audience sympathy. Before, her actions were adorably naive. Now she’s trying to launch a cat into space with an empty fishbowl on his head. At least she put the fish in a bucket. Hey wait! You have a pet already? What, a beautiful, elegant, charming goldfish isn’t good enough for you? Her firecracker doesn’t launch the cat, but it does end up in his “helmet”.
The badly battered putty is finally noticed by the Mrs. Despite what you’re thinking, she actually DOES concede to her daughter’s wishes. Maybe she just feels sorry for the cat? Seems like he’s been through a lot. He’ll need a bath to start things off. Maybe some food. Sylvester is through. Having had enough, he goes back to the dog. At least with him he has a fighting chance. As for Suzanne, this was her only film. But she did manage to appear in Looney Tunes Comics on the occasion. There, she looked even more like Dolly Keane, despite predating her. And her usual nemesis? Ralph Phillips!
Favorite Part: Suzanne lowers suspicion about the saucer of milk she’s poured by pretending to be a cat herself. It’s a believable thing for a child to do, and I figure most parents would think its rather cute. Her mom tells her to cut the crap. (Witch.)
Personal Rating: Depends on if you think Suzanne goes too far. 2 if yes, 5 if not.
Kidding. I just didn’t want you to correctly guess that it couldn’t do better than a 3.
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.)
