Category: Cartoons from the 40’s

My personal favorite decade from Warner Bros. The majority of my favorites came from this era. (It was the last one where we still had Avery and Clampett)

Posted on

The Bug Parade

“This is hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by Rod Scribner; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 11, 1941.

You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you? My reputation as a zoologist precedes me by this, my 762nd post. You expect it. You demand it. You’re holding my keyboard at gunpoint until I comply. *groan* I hate doing predictable jokes. All right! ALL RIGHT! *sigh*………………………………..

That title bugs me. Happy? There’s actually zero bugs featured in today’s short, despite what the title promises. At least the narrator uses the more appropriate term, “insects.” But I still don’t trust him. You’re lucky you have a friend like me who suffers from correctile dysfunction. If it’s not an insect, I won’t let you ignore the slip up.

So, spot gags again. Like a children’s joke book got animated to life, and the first chapter was about houseflies. Or as the cartoon correctly refers to, Musca domestica. I’m already being lulled into a false sense of security. Makes me willing to laugh at the weak joke about the fly’s feet being literal suction cups. Or…

………………………………………………………..

*sigh* The scariest freaking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Yes, I’ve alwsys suffered from a mild case of ommetaphobia. It wasn’t the pink elephants making it hard for me to watch “Dumbo”! So, while I appreciate the short finding a way to illustrate that a housefly eye is more akin to many smaller eyes, why do they have to be drawn in a semi-realistic style? Giving the usually toothless insect a mouth of teeth is just making the uncanny levels higher. I think… I think I’ll go have a bit of a lie down.

Let’s move away from flies. (Heh. As if we could.) Let’s make a joke about wasps. Ooh, so close with the Latin. It’s Vespula, not Vespa. Notice her slim figure. A very narrow abdomen that pinches off of her thorax. It’s really quite sexy. Until her girdle bursts of course, revealing her as either a cute bee, or an obese wasp. (Vespula girthica. The only insect species with breasts.) Then, speaking of bees, they act like a queen bee is its own species. But yes, she would be the one laying the eggs. You’ve earned a treat.

Then, what I was dreading this whole time: a gag about a spider. An animal that never was, and never will be an insect. Oh, it has six legs? Then I guess they have me on a technicality. Too bad they’ve given up with the scientific names by this point; devolving into pure jokes. Makes me wonder if the earlier mistakes were actually intentional. They probably were, and I’m just too uptight about these things. Or, much more likely, I’m a misunderstood genius who doesn’t get his @$$ kissed enough. Not sure which one I prefer.

We get our usual, fireflies looking nothing like actual fireflies bit, a moth being attracted to a flame because he wants to prevent fires, and another sentence that makes no sense to anyone majoring in zoology. Did he really just say that a myriapod is an insect? Ow, my every cubic inch of my centipede loving heart! It really burns. And I know I’m not revealing many punchlines. I’ll make it up to you with another coloring error: the centipede’s mouth. Oh, and I do have to give more credit to their depiction of a lou- I’m sorry, cootie. Yeah, bet you didn’t know that they were real, did you? I like how its legs look like the grasping claws it should have.

Hmmm… Nope! I don’t see a snail appearing in a short that was named after bugs, but then was mentioned it would be about insects, and now has been showing other arthropods. Clearly, we’re meant to see the parasitic fly larvae that resemble buck teeth. As for the silkworms, I don’t see why they are so butt-hurt about humans switching to nylon. Don’t they know that we kill them when we harvest their silk? Priorities, kids. As for their ant jokes, I’m lost on the one where a red and black ant politely say hello to one another. Is the joke that they didn’t fight to the death? Is it that they have male voices when the lack of wings suggests they’re female? Is it just a subversion of our expectations since they aren’t speaking in stereotypical black and native American voices?

Our last gag is probably the best one. It’s about the marbled orb weaver spider; an arachnid that comes complete with villain mustache and Billy Bletcher voice. He announces that he loves little flies, and lowers himself down to one. And can you really blame him? She is a rather fetching fly, at that. Only two eyes, pouty kissable lips, luscious lashes… Almost makes it hard to notice the spider grew another four limbs. I guess he was really a spider crab the whole time.

Favorite Part: There was real effort in those scientific names. Even if they were unintentional mistakes, people were clearly doing research. I have to commend them.

Personal Rating: Well, it’s a 1 for me because I can’t turn my zoologist mindset off. You probably don’t have this problem, but I can’t rate it higher than a 2. Maybe Avery should stick to phony travelogues for his gag pictures. And… HEY! FRED? WHERE ARE YOU FLEEING TO? You’re not leaving forever… are you? I swear I was just jesting!

Posted on

The Hardship of Miles Standish

“Well, the injuns were getting the best of the ordeal. Until one of them: pulled a boner.”

Supervision by I. Freleng; Animation by Gil Turner; Story by Jack Miller; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on April 27, 1940.

A radio broadcast has just finished reciting “The Courtship of Miles Standish” but one listener calls the whole thing a lie. It’s the male counterpart of Granny, I’ve decided. Now named Gramps. He tells his grandson he knows what REALLY transpired, even though it predates his lifetime. I for one, am usually entertained by grandfather stories, but that could be because mine has never shown signs of senility in the 29 years I’ve known him. Let’s hear what Gramps has to say.

In the year 1621.5, (where a guy in stocks disappears after the screen pans to the left.) two of the pilgrims colonizing this brave new world, were Priscilla Mullins and Miles Standish. Ancestors of Edna Mae Oliver and Hugh Herbert, respectively. There’s a bit of a romance just waiting to blossom between the two, but Miles is just too darn shy to pursue it. (Which means I’m also a descendant of his.) He tries to write poetry for her, but is having a difficult time. Writing is hard, and some of us make it look even harder. (At least I’m having fun.) He needs inspiration, or a better idea. And I don’t think inspiration existed during his time.

His calendar has the answer, just like calendars always do. (In case you’re wondering, the answer mine gave me was August 1.) It just takes him a while to read it because he’s constantly distracted by the sexy picture. Hey, a man can be attracted to actual girls and print ones. Heck, a guy can be attracted to another guy or nobody at all even, because this is America! Or, it will be in 154.5 years. The idea that was granted comes from the makers of this fine timepiece, John Alden Messenger service.

And I won’t keep you in suspense if you’re reading before watching. It suggests the service of a singing telegram. It’ll attract the girls better than blood attracts a shark. That’s a great saying I just made up. Feel free to spread it around. Standish calls the man himself, John Alden who looks to be the ancestor of Elmer Fudd. And if you already know about this short’s source material, then you can easily deduce that Edna and Elmer share the same great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, grandparents. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Alden comes to Priscilla’s house to deliver the musical message. “You must’ve been a beautiful baby”‘s origins revealed. Unless plagiarism was still rampant back then. Oh wait, this IS future-America they’re living in. The song is doing wonders, but a bigger problem arrives: natives colloquially referred to as Indians. Alden has to take shelter with Priscilla. The shot of the Injunatives rushing the place is similar to one seen in “Scalp Trouble“, just with everyone looking in better spirits. (I’d be frowning if I was ordered to kill Porky Pig. I’d also be taking my own life in front of him so he knew I thought higher of him than myself.)

There’s some pretty decent gags considering the stereotyping taking place. Some natives are in uniforms because they are from Cleveland, and another one accidentally shoots one of his allies. You’ll laugh if you can read lips, because the shootee is saying, without a doubt, “God damn son of a bitch.” Eat it, Hayes Code! Oh, and Alden hat’s are frequently shot off. You know, that bowler hat looks great on him. I hope if he survives, it becomes a family heirloom/tradition.

As the featured quote says, it just took one mistake on the attack to turn the tide. One of them ends up shooting a window, breaking the glass. Oh geeze, that’s like 77 years bad luck or something. Or worse yet, Alden coming out to ask who did that and who is going to be paying for it. They’re fleeing. And not one molecule of blood had to be dropped. Of course, as was always suspected, the surefire way to woo a woman is to plagiarize a song for her, before saving her life from redskins. And I mean that in the most fair, inclusive way. Keep her from eating a Strawberry Poison-dart Frog; it’ll get the same results.

Gramps finishes his story before the controversial ending where Standish declared war on Alden and demanded a duel at ten paces, forgetting the fact he was standing on a dock at the time. The old man does the ole “if it ain’t true, God has permission to smote me.” and lightning demolishes the house. Don’t worry. The little boy wasn’t a casualty.

Favorite Part: I hate choosing a part you already heard me mention, but it was the Natives freaking out after the window smashed. And it would have been equally funny with any race. Even Caucasian.

Personal Rating: Again, it depends on how offensive you find these kind of pictures. I think it has enough decent gags to make anyone laugh at least once through their guilt, so a 2 for them, a 3 for us.

Posted on

Holiday for Drumsticks

‘YOU WILL SOON BE SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND CRANBERRIES!’

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Emery Hawkings, Basil Davidovich, J.C. Melendez, and Don Williams; Story by Lloyd Turner; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 22, 1949.

That’s a wonderful date to have a thanksgiving picture! No sarcasm here! I could probably handle seasonal depression easier with such a glorious feast! Please don’t leave me, summer! Life’s not worth living when it’s not you. And as for the actual plot…

Pa and Ma are hill folk, so they’re used to having some neighbor trying to kill them on a daily basis. Or even sooner. They’ve learned to make the best of it. Using the shots fired to open pouring holes in the coffee pot, light matches; the mundane things we all hate doing. Once they’ve gotten their use, they’re sure to plug ’em right back. Otherwise sleep would be awful difficult. Since Thanksgiving is approaching, Pa has brought home a turkey. Once he’s fattened up a bit, there will be plenty for me. I’m willing to share the cartilage.

Daffy isn’t at all pleased with his new roomie. (Yardie? Coopie?) According to him, there’s barely enough to eat as it is, and now most of that is going to the turk. Daffy stops him though, pointing out what’s going on here: they feed the turkey, in turn, he will feed them. Sounds fair to me, but Thomas is kinda selfish. Per Daffy’s coaching, he exercises as hard as he can. Faster! Stronger! Better! With all that lovely food going to waste, Daffy makes sure it goes to waist. Wait, confusion alert!

Does Daffy know about the actual plans? He kinda acts like he’s trying to pull a fast one. Has he really seen this happen before? Why all the hamming then? (Look who I’m talking about.) Why not be straight with the bird? “Hey fatstho! They’re gonna take a knife to ya! Why not let me eat the mostht to keep you trim? Nobody eatsth duck on Thanksthgiving!” Does he think Thomas won’t believe him otherwise? Why doesn’t Daffy encourage him to slim? I’ve seen a duck eat turkey meat. He really seemed to be enjoying it.

When the fated day arrives, the results are extreme. Thomas is basically spine and feathers. And a head and limbs of course. Daffy is a meatball. (What bird skeleton is on his munching table? Did Daffy stop any potential chance of turducken?) Pa takes one look at the turkey and deduces that he’s not healthy, and unlike other predators, humans only want the meat with the strength to fight back. As long as it’s tipping the scale of course. Daffy matches that description, and worse, I checked the rules; there actually isn’t anything saying you can’t have a different kind of fowl to celebrate the glory of the fourth Thursday. And duck is almost as tasty as turkey.

Daffy does his best to slim himself down, but it’s harder for him. He lacks Thomas’s discipline, and determination. Read: Pa keeps shooting all the exercise equipment. Daffy begs Thomas for help in hiding, which leads to what usually happens whenever Daffy asks for a turkey’s help, as evidenced in “Tom Turk and Daffy”. I’ve yet to actually discuss that one, and that’s probably why I have few visitors and fewer feedback. Ah, me. In case, you don’t know what I’m talking about, Thomas consonantly puts Daffy in painful hiding locations, deciding each one isn’t good. Wait, confusion alert!

Why is Thomas messing with Daffy? Even if Daffy hogged all the food for himself, the Thanksgiving threat was real. He helped saved you. Is he just trying to make sure the people don’t have to settle for turkey skeleton? Are turkeys just pricks by nature and I don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying their delectable muscles? Because as an animal lover, I have to. Thomas does have an actually sound solution: flee the country. The odds of death by Thanksgiving china, turkey and grease reduce significantly in places like China, Turkey and Greece. (I’m not proud of that one.)

Now that Daffy is dazed from the extreme hide and seek, he is happily wiling to waltz into the stove Thomas is calling a boat. (Hilariously, Ma and Pa are getting in on the action too, dressed as sailors.) If you think this ending is too dark, that’s just cause Ma can’t get a match lit. Daffy blows them out one by one. I guess he’s too fat to just leave the oven? He’s gotta Winnie-the-Pooh his way out now.

Favorite Part: As immature as it may be to say a funny face made me laugh as much as I did, the face Pa makes when he realizes how juicy Daffy is did me in.

Personal Rating: Well, it’s tough to say. A few confusing character moments didn’t help my scoring, and it was pretty much a weaker version of the previously mentioned “T.T.A.D.”. I’m feeling generous though. It is now officially recognized as a member of the 3 club. Welcome, and here’s your club robe.

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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

Posted on

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.

Posted on

Life with Feathers

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 24, 1945.

Some sort of domestic squabble is going on in a birdcage, and I’m proven right by one of the occupants being evicted. He tells us that he is a lovebird, that was his wife who hates his guts now, and as his name suggests, he needs love to live. No point in suffering. He begins brainstorming some ideas about how to off himself. I’m sure some people would think he’s overreacting, but I think it’s kinda sweet that he is dedicated to the one he loves if she wasn’t. If I ever lost a girlfriend, I’m sure I wouldn’t find life too enjoyable anymore, either.  Me and him should be drinking buddies.

Fate decides his death for him with a cat who looks like he’s in the mood for a snack, seeing as he’s picking through the trash. This cat is Sylvester making his first appearance. And he rushes over once the bird gets his attention. He stops short because this seems too good to be true. He deduces that the bird is poisoned and just wants one less cat in the world. Because that’s what poisonous creatures want right? No point in living if you can’t ever be hugged. (On another note, pay attention to the speck of background between Mr. Lovebird’s wing and head. It’s also depressed as it turns blue.)

Sylvester’s owner calls him back for some milk. Wait, why was he picking through the trash if someone feeds him? (On another note, if you watch his face closely, you’ll see it has more white than usual as he zips into frame.) He spits out every drop once he finds out who was at the bottom of the bowl. Since Sylvester is paranoid and Mr. Lovebird isn’t going to explain why he’s come to the worst life choice possible, he has no choice but to order a mallet, smack the cat, then enter his mouth whilst he shouts.

Sylvester smokes a pipe to get him back out. (Hey, if you want to die so much, why don’t you just inhale that smoke that’s being inhaled. That secondhand stuff is deadly.) He traps Mr. L in a glass jug, and proceeds to open some cat food. (Does he normally feed himself solid food? He’s really well trained!) Whilst his head is turned, a very familiar looking feather drops into the bowl. Not daring to not look behind him, Sylvester doesn’t notice until it’s sticking out of his mouth. His worst fears are confirmed upon checking on the jug. He ate the dirty birdy!

Mr. L is okay though. This is all part of his master scheme: give Sylvester some pills, and hop on the spoon himself before it goes past the gums. Sylvester catches on. The bird decides to play fowl. He turns the radio to some sort of program that does nothing but ask if you’d like to eat this’nthat or so’nso. (Maybe it’s an ad?) To make things harder, Mr. L also shows plenty of pictures of delicious looking meals. The torture is working. (Do those fish have hair on them?) Sylvester soon gives in figuring if this doesn’t kill him, spending the rest of his life starving will. I’d say that adds up. Just before the deed is done, a telegram is delivered to the bird.

Whatever it said, it worked like a charm. Mr. L tells Sylvester that things will be all right back at home, so he doesn’t have to eat him. (On another note, his beak turns blue because it’s still depressed.) Too bad his treatment worked so well! Sylvester is still hungry and this bird on his had is worth two in any bush. The lovebird just barely manages to escape with his life. (Now, aren’t you ashamed you took it for granted?) So what was on that note, anyway? Has the Mrs. forgiven you for whatever she did? Better than that! She’s going to go live with her mother. Oh, Mr. Lovebird. Here I thought you were loyal to the end.

Well, you know what fickle creatures lovebirds are. Sweetiepuss changed her mind last minute, and Mr. L resumes his Sylvester chase. Since the little guy never made another appearance, I think he succeeded.

Favorite Part: One of the ways Mr. L tries to get Sylvester to eat is by dressing as Santa so he can give him a “present”. His pathetic, wimpery “Merry Christmas” is music to my ears.

Personal Rating: 3. A fine way to start a new character off. Good enough to be nominated for the Oscar too! But since it was the forties, you already know it lost to a “Tom and Jerry”.

Posted on

Joe Glow the Firefly

“ZZZzzz-ZZZzzz”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Philip Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on March 8, 1941.

Let’s say I asked four different people to draw up a firefly for a piece of media and these were the results:

Which one would get the highest scoring grade?

That’s right, none of them. For you see, I didn’t say “firefly” like a beetle from the Lampyridae family, I said “firefly.” You know, an insect version of a fireman. That’s what I’m choosing was going through Chuck and co.’s heads when designing the title character. That way, I can say that for once in my life, someone made one of these animals actually look remotely accurate to real life.

In these early, pre-Smokey Bear days, the job of keeping aware of potential threats to the forest fell to the smaller animals. Rather, that’s what I think Mr. Glow is doing here. His motivation isn’t really explained. He just enters a tent and explores therein. He doesn’t want to disturb the camper though, so he’s being extra quiet. We’re “light” on laugh-out-loud moments as this is short is in the vein of Chuck’s Sniffles’s pictures: tiny creature exploring the larger world. Hi-jinks ensue.

The man Joe lands on (awkward cut!) is indeed asleep, so that means Joe can make the rest of his rounds in peace. Relative peace, anyway, for this man snores. What’s a minor nuisance at best to fellow humans, becomes a mixture of wind tunnels and earthquakes to those at Joe’s scale. Shaken, he lands on the chest area. Things are a little more stable there. Making his way to the closest finger, he stops to make sure the wrist watch is set correctly. (Lovely shot from inside the timepiece.) Joe then sees another thing he’d better check out: a flashlight. That could possibly cause a fire! It’s had a troubled past!

Nope. Checks out. It’s in perfect working condition, too. The man briefly awakes at the brightness, but Joe is quick to turn it off, taking cover in the dark. Camper goes back to sleeping, and Joe decides to keep on. Even though the man isn’t a light sleeper, he is a sound sleeper, as Joe walking across a cracker doesn’t even make him stir. Better see how the rest of the food is doing. Looks like all the salt is still here, there, and entirely coating Joe. At least now he knows not to open the container that way.

Where there’s salt, there’s pepper. Joe checks that too. And he sneezes of course. Got a hefty set of lungs for an animal that doesn’t possess any. It rockets him out of the shaker, and into a catsup bottle that is now teetering on the edge of the table. But Joe earned that hat he wears. He knows just what to do in situations like this. He grabs some string (which looks kind of out of place, doesn’t it?) and is able to lasso it, and safely lower it to the ground. I’d say everything seems to be on the up and up. His work done, Joe flies out.

It’s then that he remembers the most important part of the inspection. Flying back he wishes the man “goodnight”. Making sure to shout it directly into his eardrum of course. It’s the only way to be heard at that size.

Favorite Part: When Joe is flying away at the table, the background artists remembered to show the spilled salt. I love when details aren’t forgotten like that.

Personal Rating: You know, I could see many casual viewers thinking this short is boring. It’s not. It’s charming. Still, for those who aren’t mature enough for this one, they can see it as a 2. Me though, I think us true fans can give it the 3 it deserves. This is a beautiful picture! The grayscale world really illustrates that the camper is miles away from civilization and its overabundance of light. Things are dark here, and the only source of light is Joe’s lantern. You just wouldn’t be able to sell the idea as well with technicolor. In fact, I’m giving it a 4 for me. Maybe you can do the same.

Posted on

The Bird came C.O.D.

“Mm-nh.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 17, 1942.

Conrad! Hey, buddy! Haven’t discussed you for since the twenty-tens. Did you ever get more of a personality than Goofy wannabe? No? I’m sorry. You’ll always have a trio of posts talking about you eventually.

Conrad is playing delivery cat today. His company specializes in delivery of palms. Slogan is, “You grease ours, you’ll get yours.” (Clearly, I should have been writing for these pictures.) Being Conrad’s first film, he makes sure to look directly into the camera. Just to make sure that Mr. Jones know how grateful he is for this opportunity, and he could be the new breakout character for Chuck should Sniffles ever… you know… disappear. Just look at those exaggerated cartoon movements! He’s the ideal star!

His first problem is just trying to get the plant into the theater awaiting the delivery. It really does feel like a “Goofy” cartoon what with the tree getting caught on the door frame and flinging Conrad backwards, and the door shutting on its own when he thinks he found a solution by squat walking inside. No wonder Mr. Colvig would be voicing him. It was clearly always meant to be. Conrad finally figures out the secret: hold the door open with the delivery. Please, enter.

…AND BRING THE PLANT, STUPID! Geeze, hope you’re not expecting a tip after that. Now inside, all Conrad has to do is not trip and get it to its proper location. After he trips, he gets it to its proper location. Not even a scratch! Maybe he does know what he’s doing. He finds the old plant, switches it with the new, and is all set to go on his way, when he sees a top hat that has been left on the stage. That can only mean a magician has performed, and Conrad has always secretly been envious of those guys. He can’t resist having a little fun and pretending to be what he is not. (Without talking. He has no dialogue outside of nervous chuckles and exclamatory grunts.)

Wouldn’t you know it? First try and he pulls out a live rabbit. Even he wasn’t expecting to be that good. His reaction puzzles me. He looks less amazed and more nauseous. Does it smell that bad? Then it should have been a skunk. I bet Chuck could get a lot of mileage out of those. But what’s really worrisome is the other occupant of the hat. The title star finally shows, more than halfway in. Some early ancestor of Henery Hawk it looks like. But I guess he’s a dove? What magician uses hawks in his act? A fun-king awesome one, that’s who.

The little guy doesn’t seem too pleased to see some amateur messing with the hat, but he doesn’t do more than give Conrad a glare. Not even an angry glare, just a “do you mind?” kind of glare. And I get it. I hate when delivery boys bring me a package and then start looking in my drawers. But Conrad feels like he’s been the one wronged, and knocks the bird back out of the hat. Again, Little Birdy just kind of gives a look. A “this is getting old” look. He only slaps Conrad when the cat tries taking a closer peek inside that hat.

Angered, Conrad smashes the hat. Little Birdy is unharmed, but gives the peeking tom (cat) a poke in the eye. Come on, Conrad. It’s not worth it! He agrees, but decides to throw that hat rather than just leave. It comes back to hit him, and L.B. punches his nose now. Conrad should consider himself lucky, considering what silent birds usually do to cats, but he refuses to be three-upped and makes another attempt to get the bird. He’s caught in the act, and Little marches him back into the orchestra pit. I bet a lot of good slapstick is happening. You can tell by the number of instruments flying.

Now sporting a pair of black eyes, Conrad finally gets the hint that he should cut his losses before the bird cuts him. He takes the old plant and tries to flee, but runs straight into the theater’s brick storage room. (I love those rooms.) Dazed and disoriented, he next stumbles into wardrobe where he finds six more top hats. Surely you figured Mr. Birdy wasn’t the only one in the clutch, right? Too bad they don’t do more than pull Conrad’s hat over his face. Passive aggressiveness runs in the family.

Favorite Part: Conrad leaving the plant outside was a good gag made better by the triumphant music petering out.

Personal Rating: 2. I can’t relate to the main character because I think L.B. was totally justified in his threats. He deserves being the title character. (If only he showed up sooner.)

Posted on

A Hick a Slick and a Chick

“No time like the present.”

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by J.C. Melendez, Don Williams, Emery Hawkins, and Basil Davidovich; Story by Lloyd Turner and William Scott; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 27, 1948.

This post would not have been possible without contributions from readers like Carl Hunt. Thank You.

Elmo Mouse will be our titular “hick” this evening. He’s in a good mood as he’s off to visit the resident chick, Daisy Lou. Upon arriving at her place, he thinks he’s made a mistake of addresses as the doe inside is busy making out with someone who isn’t Elmo. Sadly, he’s at the right house. Her make out partner was the third part of our puzzle, Blackie the prick. The two at least have the decency to take a breath now that they’ve got company, and to be fair D.L. is polite enough to let both guys stay. Oh, yeah. I meant “slick” earlier. Honest mistake.

Elmo has some (mouse-scale) flowers and Daisy does seem happy to receive them, even if Blackie already bought out a florist shop for her. Elmo’s flowers are so embarrassed, they regress back into seeds. Elmo tries to play her a song on his mouth organ, but Blackie can play piano. Particularly, a familiar piano piece that leads me to believe Blackie’s father was the mouse in “Rhapsody Rabbit“. About the only other good trait Elmo has is muscles and to his credit, I agree that Blackie could not make his arm go limp like that. His biceps look too healthy. Feel healthy too, seeing as they knock Elmo out of the house.

When Elmo returns, he finds Uncle Blackie (as I think I’m allowed to call him) presenting Ms. Lou with a fur coat. Elmo isn’t impressed like she is, claiming that he could get her something better. As Uncle B. points out, the only thing that feasibly could be better is ermine. Elmo agrees but it’s only once he’s out of the hole that he reveals he’s dug himself into another; he doesn’t know what an ermine even is.

Searching the premises, he looks in a bottle of champagne which really doesn’t help much. What it does do is remove his common sense. Most creatures his size would try to avoid creatures like the dozing cat in the house, but he’s actually approaching. It might have something to do with the fact that the cat’s name is Merman, but he can only see the last five-sixth’s of the word. And yes, the cat’s name probably really is ‘Herman’ but it doesn’t look like it at first glance! (Does this mean Blackie’s real first name is ‘Katnip’? No wonder he changed it.)

The cat isn’t fazed by the punch drunk rodent, and tries to eat him. Elmo escapes and falls into the milk bowl, which is good news since milk is nature’s natural sobering agent. He flees, and the cat chases, taking a swing at him as he runs on a table. This makes the leaf smack him in the face, knocking himself out but good. Well, well. Just look at all that fur just practically begging to be taken! Good thing Elmo’s a furrier! He presents the goods to Daisy and he totally wins. She’s got no problem being a trophy, because she gets things out of it. What a good moral.

Hick and Chick leave together, leaving the Slick to wonder where he managed to get the stuff. The cat tells him to mind his own business, showing us Elmo used his @$$ hair to make the coat. (Why to the you to the sea and kay.) Even the iris-out is coat shaped. And when you get pancakes tomorrow, they’ll probably be coat shaped too.

Favorite Part: Jealousy running rampant in Elmo’s mind, he imagines certain instances of bad luck Blackie could befall. Like Elmo mounting his head over a fireplace.

Personal Rating: 3