Bone, Sweet bone

“Where’s my dinosaur vertebrae?”

Good old Shep.

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Don Williams, Emery Hawkins, Basil Davidovich, and J.C. Melendez; Story by William Scott and Lloyd Turner; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. A Merrie Melody released on May 22, 1948.

The local museum has some great fossil exhibits on display. Just now, one of the employees is putting together the latest specimen: a carnivorous sauropod. Man, there are so many secrets that the past continues to yield. What could be next? Jurassic cattle? Triassic chiropterans? Cambrian cetaceans? We’ll never know everything. Join me in being sad. Misery loves company, they say.

The scientist looks to be part of the Fudd family tree. But he sounds like a perpetually whiny Bugs. I kinda want to kick him. Okay, you got me. I really want to kick him. Of course, maybe he’d sound a little less brow-beaten if his bones weren’t constantly snatched away. Shep, a little dog, is the culprit. I don’t know if this is “Take your animal to work day.” (My favorite non-existent day.) or if the guy is even Shep’s dad. But you’re a man of science, you should know better than to let a dog have access to meat bones. I was lying when I called them fossils because it attracts patrons.

The man find his last piece missing, and Shep admits to the theft. He leads back to his burying place, but its already been dug up by a bulldog who’s on his way. The scientist demands Shep get it back because… he hates Shep? I don’t see why you can’t make an attempt, aside from the plot demanding you stay out of this. And if Shep doesn’t comply? The man plans on putting HIS bones on display. That’s gruesome! You better not be his dad, or I’m taking him away from you.

Shep likes his bones where they are, thank you, and sets out on the quest. Once he’s gone, the professor finds the missing bone in his pocket. Huh. Would’ve figured that would be the final punchline. Crisis averted, he tries to call Shep back, but ultimately decides exercise is good for dogs and doesn’t bother. So… the tension’s gone right? Why should I care if Shep gets the other bone back? And why did he say he took it? Did he just think he did? Why would the man have a spare bone on him? Do you always bring one to work?

Shep sneaks into the bulldog’s yard as quiet as a louse. Too bad he can’t change the color of more than his nose, or he could be as loud as he wants AND invisible. Utilizing cotton and lullabies, he keeps bullsy from waking and takes the bone back. He’s caught before he can make his escape and is kicked like an American football out of the yard. He next tries digging under the ground, grabbing the bone that way. Again, the bulldog catches on. He swipes the bone back, then baseball bats Shep out again.

The only altitude left is the one at telephone line-level. Shep sneaks over and opts to Mary Poppins his way down via umbrella. Operating by Toon logic, that is, whatever is funniest, it operates by real world logic and he drops like a stone.  (Mary Pop-rocks.) Be the ball, Shep. You haven’t tried basketball yet. Only two more and you can be the O.G. Airbud. Nah, he’s got more self-respect than that. He’s going to try the “brains” method.

He makes a large bone out of plaster, and stuffs it with T.N.T. Then, he walks in front of his adversary with what looks like an awesome prize. Amazingly, the other dog is willing to trade. (Or he is just trying to keep Shep from realizing he switched the two, but I like my answers more than correct ones.) The explosion doesn’t hinder him much, and he rockets after the thief. Shep hastily nails some boards over the gap in the fence, but the bulldog knows all the tricks of his yard. Like how the fence is basically just one big door anybody can easily open.

Shep flees back into the yard and retries the strategy on the other side. The bulldog is surprised he didn’t learn this old trick, as he’s clearly a new dog. He runs after, not noticing Shep also built a brick wall. Bricks and mortar are always more powerful than gunpowder. Always. I said al-ways, understand? Shep even puts a lily in the bigger dog’s paws to prove he died. Shep finally brings the bone back to the museum. The scientist finally reveals the truth: Shep got boned. The poor dog learns to speak, just so he can tell us that yeah, he’s a smidgen upset about the whole thing.

Favorite Part: The bulldog inexplicably having corresponding outfits to the sporty ways he evicts the intruder. Dogs are always cute when dressed up. Always. (Etc.)

Personal Rating: 2. No, really, guys. Why reveal the twist so early? Instead of hoping Shep will atone for a mistake, we just end up feeling bad that he’s getting beat up. I mean, yeah, he got back a bone that I guess was rightfully is, but if that bulldog ever comes back to life, he’s coming for Shep’s head. If he doesn’t, Shep still has canine blood on his paws.

Saddle Silly

“Where the heck am I?”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Phil DeLara. A Merrie Melody released on November 8, 1941.

The Pony Express. A profession that was no doubt, exciting and boring; miserable and fulfilling. And probably very uncomfortable. Remember the last time you rode a horse? Now imagine that for over 24 hours. But until we get telephones invented, it must be done. Because it’s ‘take your audience to work’ day, we’re going to follow one of these riders to see what it’s really like out there in the real world.

I feel like calling our rider ‘Rider-man’. Because he does whatever a rider can and probably more, but ‘Rider+man’ makes it sound like there are two of him. He’s got stuff to deliver, but let’s not kid about who’s really doing all the work here. Good old horses. Where would humanity be without them? And who would take their spot on the Lunar calendar? My money is on either the phoenix or the giant panda.

Expecting one horse/pony to cross the entire continent is ludicrous and cruel. Time to trade off at the nearest station. The stallion chosen looks familiar. I wonder if he has family in the army/racetrack? The equines pass the parcel+rider and with fresh speed, Rider-Man rides again! Up ahead, a hitchhiker tries to bum a ride. Seeing as how there isn’t any seats available, they run past with the wind in their wake. (And like three dogs because there’s an adoption center across the street.)

With the two focused on the man they wouldn’t help, they fail to notice they are running off a ledge into the Colorado River. I’m resisting a “sea horse” pun because its fresh water. They attempt walking out, but walk off another ledge into deeper water. I don’t get why we’re holding on a shot of the bubbles. Or why they suddenly get bigger and pop into ‘splash’ sound affects. If I ask for an explanation, would my readers be so kind as to leave comments? What if I brought up my depression?

Rider-Man ends up being the one to drag his horse out of the water. You can lead him away but… it’ll make him drink? (No wonder you guys don’t want to waste your time with feedback.) They pass little Hitchy again, but this time the horse has learned to keep his eyes on the trail. He notices the upcoming cliff, and stops short. Too short. The momentum flings Rider-Man from the saddle. But don’t worry! Once he sees he’s riding nothing through practically the same, he turns back. It’s just one of those occupational hazards that comes with the job.

After passing the little man again, (He’s a running gag even though he’s standing still. Wocka wocka!) The team enters “Indian” territory. But there’s only one person living there. Moe Hican, in his salad days before striking oil, chases after them. I wouldn’t be too worried about him. He looks like a Sioux version of Pvt. Snafu. (Snaf-sioux?) There’s a warpath under construction up ahead, so Rider-man has to turn and fight. But his horse has no desire to be a meat shield. Love his smug “you can’t make me” smile. But R.M. can, and knocks him out.

Took too long. Moe is on the other side of the meat shield. Rider-Man has to flee on foot. Horses never stay down for long, and he joins his partner in fleeing into the nearby fort. Safe at last! Even better, this is also where they were supposed to be delivering to. But the only thing in the parcel is the hitchhiker. He’s thankful for the lift, but just had to ditch the mail with Moe. This bag ain’t big enough for the two of ’em!

Favorite Part: I’m always impressed that the writers can think of new disclaimer gags. This one is thanking the Pony Express riders, who had no hand in helping make the cartoon. That’s some scrumptious sarcasm.

Personal Rating: 2

Cross Country Detours

“I don’t care what you say; I’m cold.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Paul Smith; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 16, 1940.

Ready for another dose of Avery gags? We’re giving you all we can this week as this short is just over nine minutes long! Egad! You’ll be gagging on such a gaggle of gags! That we can guarantee. What we can’t, is actually showing any animal life/scenic wonders of the U.S.A. But we will attempt, and that’s really all you should ask of anybody. What all of this means is: its not entirely “cross-country.” We’ll just stick to the west.

Starting off in California, at Yosemite National Park. (And just five years too early for a Sam cameo.) The daunting task of almost ten minutes of gags is already too scary, so we get a repeat of the human trying to feed an animal they shouldn’t. I think it was better before. Not just because I’d seen that one first, but I think a monkey violently throwing a bag of peanuts at a woman is more humorous than a bear hitting a man on the head. Check my math if you want, I’m correct.

There’s also a “shy deer” who flirts, (Somebody is in to that.) and a forest ranger always on the lookout for startings of fires. (Insert a joke about California and its fires here, but only if it’s tasteful.) He catches a scumhole tossing out a cigar and rushes to save both the forest and the smoke. He can’t afford better on his salary. Then, to Utah’s Bryce Canyon to see a natural bridge. It’s so gross when Nature doesn’t put her gums in a proper receptacle.

At the time of release, going to Alaska is technically leaving the country. Even though Fred already made a picture here, it wasn’t over nine minutes, so he had to cram some of its leftover jokes in. The “running” joke is a Husky seeing a road sign pointing out the miles to California. He sets out. We’d give him a ride, but we’ve already been there. And did anyone else see that smudge in the sky? That’s the beginning of climate change, I’m sure.

Back in the generic states, (which doesn’t mean boring; just the opposite of specific) we are shown footage of a bobcat stalking a baby quail. With adult plumage so the dumb audience won’t say something stupid like “That don’t look like a quail. Where’s the topknot?”  (I’ve held baby quail. I would know what they look like.) The narrator tries his darnedest to make us feel bad that Nature is hardcore survival all the time. If the chick isn’t eaten, the cat could die of starvation. Not everyone can be saved. But don’t worry, the Bob’ can’t go through with it. (Let’s give Mel an Oscar for this role. There really should be a “Best Voice Actor” category.)

Down to New Mexico. We see that dog again. Must’ve gotten lost, as getting here on a trip to Cali is a serious cross country detour. (Is that what the title meant?) But tell me narrator, why would his master be in Cali? What kind of a sicko just abandons a dog in Alaska? I need a real good gag to wash the taste out of my mouth. (Ironic choice of words, I know.) And the short delivers. Taking a very natural basic thing like a lizard shedding its skin, and making her sexy so she can do a strip-tease. (What are you censoring? She has no breasts!) It’s a great joke, but it makes me sad to know there are now people in this world who first saw it in “Rubberhose Rampage.” Probably the most creative, laziest-made game, I’ll admit, but give Avery’s unit the credit! All of it!

Speaking of lizards, the next bit is so scary, that the screen will be split into different age ranges. Adults can watch the gila monster on the left, while the children can watch Goldilocks‘s sister recite poetry on the right. Because heaven forbid we treat kids like people, and prepare them for a dangerous world full of reptiles that could possibly hurt you. Goldenrodlocks’s parents knew better, and she scares the beast away. Poor little guy.

Now on to Arizona and the Grand Canyon. A tourist tries to get an echo here, but fails. Good thing there’s always an operator on standby. And beavers build dams. Not beaver dams, but human dams. And they work great! See all that water? They dam it all. And the dog finally reaches California. He’s exhausted, but still makes the final stretch up to the northern part of it to finally reach paradise. Large, LARGE trees. And they’re all his. So if you know anything about dogs, then you know he’s gonna be bored very soon. Worth the trip?

Favorite Part: A frog croaking the hard way. Darkly funny on its own, but made better by the cartoon apologizing…

For the pun!

Personal Rating: 3

The Wacky Worm

“My word! A bird!”

These are wonderful days!

Supervision by I. Freleng; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by Cal Dalton; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on June 21, 1941.

Wack is back! Even though this is his first appearance. With how confusing I needlessly make my blog, who’s really the wacky one here?

There’s a bird that looks like the lovechild of a mynah bird and a flamingo. He’s a crow, though. The title promised a worm, and wacky or not, that’s his favorite dish. Unlike the majority of birds that hunt via sight, he can make do via sound as Wack has just begun a song. Obnoxiously stretching out a note. Why does it bother me here, but not there? Because Jones sounded more musical? Because I’m a terrible hypocrite? Maybe I’m just having a bad day?

The bird doesn’t just pluck him away in the middle of the song, which gives us time to look at his weird chin he now has. God did not mean for birds to have a chin. Please get rid of it. And remove those feathers growing out of your beak too. At best they look like feminine eyelashes, but they’re mostly just eyesores, and I hate them. Were you jealous that you couldn’t grow a mustache and glued some pubes on to fake it? And as for you Mr. Worm, I notice your little hairs on your head can’t decide if they’re green or black. And are you wearing pants? I’m really asking.

Wack runs, with a cute bit that has his upper body stretching away from his feet as he goes. Hope you find that funnier than Charlie Chaplin, because they’re going to reuse it a couple more times. He hides in an apple, but the bird knows that all he has to do to find him is watch for the one apple that moves. Turns out, they all do. The answer to this puzzle is to watch the apple that can’t “see” where it’s going. That’s the dead one worn by a worm.

Wack next hides in the junk heap that is always in the middle of forests. The bird thinks he’s been cornerd in a phonograph, but Wack turns it on and ruptures his ear drums. He’s going to be hunting from sight from now on. Wack also hides in a toaster, that can operate even plugged out. (That should be a term. Let me influence you.) One shouldn’t be surprised that only toast comes out of a toaster. It’s tasty, but lacks protein, and birds shouldn’t be eating bread anyway. I applaud the crow for spitting it out. Healthy choices make for healthy bodies, or so the theory goes.

Hiding in a bottle of rubbing alcohol is no different than hiding in the drinkable stuff. Wack is loaded. He comes back to battle the bird, worm to bird. He dares the bird to punch him, and gets that wish. Now with sense knocked back in, he runs again. He takes refuge in apples once more, but since the crow knows the secret to locating him, he has to stay still. There’s only one solution now: eating every apple to find him. What’s worse than finding half a worm in an apple? Starving.

It takes some doing, but the crow eats his way through almost every fruit on the ground. He looks ready to ralph, but it’s the principle of the matter by this point. And protein is still protein. He reaches for his prize, when a woodpecker’s pecking sends down a fresh wave of tree eggs. The phrase usually calls for grapes, but I think we can make do with sour apples being the reason why the crow finally calls it quits.

Favorite Part: Crow: “You’re inebriated.” Wack: “Ah, yes! Disguisting, isn’t it?”

Personal Rating: 2. One gets the feeling that Wack is designed to appeal to babies here. They sacrifice wordy jokes or humorous slapstick for shouting and bouncy movements. I’m glad that Wack’s sequel improved everything. And I stand by that description.

Racketeer Rabbit

Oohh, Rocky’s really mad now!”

“I sorta look like Eddie Robinson, don’t I?”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Gerry Chiniquy, Manny Perez, Ken Champin and Virgil Ross; Layouts and Backgrounds by Hawley Pratt and Paul Julian; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 14, 1946.

Since it’s raining, Bugs is opting to hunker down in an abandoned house for the night. Still, rabbits is rabbits and he digs a hole in the middle of the floor for his room. (Adding a doorknob just so he has something to hang the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on is a great touch.) Things don’t stay so quiet for long, as a pair of gangsters are speeding this way on the run from a rival gang. Gunfire is exchanged, but Bugs hardly notices. Nonchalantly ducking the flying bullets as he gets a drink.

You might be calling the gangsters Edward and Peter. Stop that. Only I get to give characters names around here. Besides, they’re already supplied. The smallish one is Hugo and the bigger one is Rocky. Some say this is technically the first appearance of our usual Rocky. I don’t. Rocky is a typical tough-guy name for a gangster, so why not use it for more than one of them? Time to divide the loot. Though Rocky is being slightly underhanded about dividing equally, he does still believe in giving some to every party. When Bugs sleepily asks his usual ‘what’s up?’, Rocky hands him his share.

Bugs doesn’t miss a beat. Donning hats as fast as an animated rabbit can, he poses as six other people to clean Rocky out of the remaining clams. He tries to leave, but Rocky isn’t so fooled and marches him back at gunpoint. He’s gonna tell exactly where he put the loot, but Bugs plays hardball until gun violence is threatened. Now his blabbing can’t be stopped, and its hurting the crooks’ eardrums. Only one thing to do now: take the rabbit for a “little ride”. Bugs happily obliges, and he and Hugo drive away.

One returns. Rocky asks if he got rid of him, and Bugs says yes, he won’t be bothering them again. And that’s all Hugo wrote. We never see him again! 40’s Bugs is so awesome. Terrifying and merciless, but mostly awesome. Good thing Rocky has said his prayers. When made aware of his lost partner, Rocky threatens to end Bugs. Hilariously enough, asking Bugs to help him get dressed while doing so. He demands the dough, and Bugs finally gives in, stipulating that Rocky cover his eyes so the hiding place can remain secret.

Rocky agrees to ten seconds sightless, which is all Bugs needs to mix flour, milk and an egg and give him the dough as all Toons do. (Wait, wouldn’t it be a batter by this point?) Bugs next appears in guise as a gangster named “Mugsy”, and if you’re going to consider the caricature to be Rocky’s first appearance, then I see no reason why this can’t be Mugsy’s. He tells Rocky it’s curtains for him. And they are darling. But Bugs is already on to his next guise: the police demanding Rocky give up.

Bugs dashes back to Rocky who begs for a hiding place. Bugs sticks him in a trunk with orders to stay quiet while he handles things. He tells his cop persona that Rocky is most definitely NOT in the trunk, because he wouldn’t be sticking swords through it if he was. See my earlier merciless statement. The “cop” says he’s taking Rocky with him, and drags the trunk down the stairs. Bugs responds by dragging it back up. He promises to take the cop on bare-handed, asking Rocky hold a clock while he does so. Huh. Sorta looks like a bomb.

Explodes like one too. Bugs declares the danger gone, but Rocky has wisened up, see? Yeah, he runs after the faux popo pleading for safety from the terrifyingly merciless but mostly awesome bunny.

Favorite Part: The billboard the thugs drive by at first. Not the side advertising ‘Hotel Friz’ (where I vacation every year) but the opposite advertising ‘Krools smokes’. (Insert obligatory Donkey Kong reference.) What is the best slogan ever made for a product? ‘They’re awful but you can buy them’ Funny is always best when it’s true.

Personal Rating: 4.

Slap Happy Pappy

“Heaven can wait.”

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by John Carey and I. Ellis; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on April 13, 1940.

I can’t ever be a farmer. They have to get up before the sun, and everybody knows that A.M. stands for “anti-merriment”. Take it from me, any day you can, sleep until 10, then stay in bed for another hour just enjoying the fact that true happiness can only be found beneath your blankets. In other words, Porky is playing the farmer role today. Just plowing some fields, making small talk with the livestock, and letting his horse drive the plow every now and again.

Did you know that Easter Bunnies are also farm raised? It makes sense, as they can be in close proximity to the eggs they’re supposed to deliver. It also gives the animated world another “Jack Bunny”. Shake it up, guys! Put him underwater and call him “Jack Blenny.” Make him a garbage can called “Jack Binney.” Put him in Scotland as “Jack Bonny!” Sure, it’s a fine enough pun the first dozen times, but people other than me could get sick of it.

While he gets the eggs painted, (losing toes in the process) he also is sure to keep an eye out for the ones so rotten, that the yolk and albumen have ceased to be. (You should probably be checking more often.) And then a joke that bothers me. Another egg that looks bad. It’s black, and has visible odor lines. But before he can smash it to oblivion, it hatches into “Ro-chick-ster”. Don’t look at me like that, I’m sure that was the pun they expected us to make. Besides, don’t ignore the fact they made a joke about black species being mistakes before they’re even born.

Okay, enough of the bunny. Why was he here, again? We know you love your Disney parodies Bob. Did you want to take a crack at “Funny little Bunnies” but got stuck after one tasteless joke? Moving on. Porky gets today’s paper, with the front page news being about Mr. and Mrs. Cackler egg-specting. And 1, 2. That was the only two lines we can afford Porky to say this week. My inner fanboy is satiated. It’s also by this point that you’ve realized the majority of jokes today are the caricature kind.

For indeed, Eddie and Ida bare more than a passing resemblance to the Cantors. (Even down to the Mrs. having the occasional white wattle.) They’ve got five eggs ready to go, and Eddie is eagerly anticipating a boy. I mean, less of a chance they’ll get eaten, right? Him though, he probably just wants someone to go camping with. I know for a fact that all decent girls hate such activities. It’s in their D.N.A. Hatching time! Oh, who could have foreseen this? 5 daughters. You can tell because of the bow/skirt combo.

Any real parent would love their child regardless of their gender identity. Good thing this guy is fictional. He bemoans his fate, but then takes note of the singing outside. It’s Bing Crowsby (not that one) and his five sons. That could never happen by chance alone, what is the secret? Well, what else could it be? His golden pipes can not only make a hen fertile, but guarantee male heirs if the masculine labels on the shells can be trusted. You sing, right Eddie?

One song session later, Eddie gleefully prances around the barnyard giving cigars to farmers, parents, and children alike. Sure, Kay-pon Kyser doubts his chances, and Rhode Island Red Sparks can’t spare a smile, but he doesn’t care. He finishes his song and dance just in time, as the newest addition is being bor-… I’ve wondered, is it still accurate to say things are born when they’re hatched? This chick doesn’t have any feminine clothing, so the odds are slightly in Ed’s favor. A boy at last? “Eh, could be.”

Favorite Part: Eddie’s over the top reaction to seeing his quintuplets… born. Too bad he just lost the eggs that could go with that ham.

Personal Rating: 2. Not just because of that racist joke, but because I wonder if it’s right to laugh at a father being disappointed in his children just for having certain parts? Gender identity is a delicate topic anymore, and I could see someone being reminded of bad times with a douche-bag parent. I’m no expert, but I don’t want to encourage anyone to see something that could offend.

Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears

“Jitterbugs!”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Champin; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on September 2, 1944.

Wasn’t “Coal Black” great? The answer is yes with an asterisk and a lengthy footnote. Wouldn’t it be great to do another parody of a Disney picture as an all black jazz number? Same answer as above. Too bad by this time in history Walt only had the one fairy tale feature film to his name, and those “Silly Symphonies” just wouldn’t do. (Although now there is a sickly curious part of me who wants to see what “The 3 Black Pigs” would have been like.) Guess we’ll just have to parody one of our shorts. Tex is no longer here. No permission needed to doctor “The Bears Tail.”

Like “C.B.” we have a narrator who only appears at the beginning, but his voice at least stays all the way through. Good thing. This story is so complex that I need his help. There are indeed three bears, and *sigh* the narrator specifically states that they are of the black species. Obvious joke is still hurtful. We’ll just call them what the picture does: Big Size, Middle Size, and Wee Small. Big has that Stepin Fetchit look, Middle is all Fats Waller, and Wee… I don’t know. I can tell he’s voiced by Mel, at least. The other two both sound like Fats because… I don’t know.

Now, because these are black bears, they are uneducated, have unflatteringly large lips, and are quite the talented musicians. At least that one is a positive stereotype? They got a good jam going, but they’re playing so hard that soon all their instruments get too hot. (Okay. That’s actually pretty clever.) Only thing to do now is take a walk and let them cool. While they do that, let’s check on their neighbors. They live just across the way from Grandma’s house, and the story there is also underway: there’s a wolf in the old lady’s bed waiting on the arrival of Red Riding Hood.

Aw, what the heck. Let’s explain the lack of Red with a callback to another short. Red is now the one doing her part for the war effort, as the telegram boy explains. Here’s where the Stepin voice went. I did get a chuckle at him obliging when the wolf says “Well kill me dead!” at hearing the news. The wolf managed to dodge the shot, and he soon sees Goldilocks entering the other house. Goldilocks in name only, or she’d probably look like this:

Guess it was really a jinx.

And just like So White, she doesn’t look that bad. At least if you can accept the opinion of a white guy. I can’t legally say she’s attractive though. Isn’t Goldilocks traditionally a minor? She may have been aged up, but I’ll bet she’s in her teens. Good thing the wolf has nothing sexual about his predatory ways. Since there’s no porridge in this tale, I guess Goldi just broke in to use the facilities and then, sure, why not take a nap? There’s always the possibility that this really is a BNB.

The majority of beds are either too hard, or too soft. The latter of which I never thought would suck sleeping in. The last one is just right, except for the wolf. Chase ensues, and it’s at that time that the bears return. The struggling two can be mistaken for dancers, and since the bears are uneducated, that’s what they see them as. They start the music, and the wolf plays along. Only problem is, Goldi isn’t afraid of him now and forces him to be her dance partner. And can that girl dance! It’s exhausting for an animal that was meant to walk on all four legs. He tries to leave, but can’t escape.

I lied. Once he boards up the doors and windows, he can retreat back to the safety of Grandma’s. Red finally does show up and… wow. I really thought the trend of making the black ladies in these cartoons look good would continue. No such luck. First of all, she has really long legs paired with a really short dress that is completely hidden by her hood in the back. Makes her look almost nude. And her face is reminiscent of Sunflower the centaurette. The only time comparing somebody to “Fantasia” isn’t the highest form of compliment.

The wolf is still too worn out to get after Red, and his problems increase when the bears find him again. Since Grandma has all the instruments they play on hand, the party can last as long as the bears can. And this isn’t one of those stories where the wolf ate Grandma. She comes out of the cupboard to force the wolf to dance some more. A perfect revenge.

Favorite Part: Big Size recommending the walk. The other two find the idea stupid, and refuse to take part. He’s got to show them the book takes his side to get them to agree.

Personal Rating: 2. And that’s a very low 2. Music is great, there’s a couple of decent jokes that don’t rely on the characters being black, and Goldi really does look good. But I don’t think any of those points are strong enough to cancel out the negative aspects. But as my scoring system states: if there’s a smidge of good that I think keeps it from being totally unviewable, it gets the 2. Still, it’s a good thing this was the last of the Censored 11 to get made. That’s 11 times too many to make cartoons we have to be ashamed of to this day.

Daffy’s Southern Exposure

“Name your poison, kid.”

Supervision by Norman McCabe; Story by Don Christensen; Animation by Vive Risto; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on May 2, 1942.

Ducks fly south when winter starts to hit. And fly north again when summer returns to their original residence. As such, they live in a perpetual state of blissful warmth and never suffer from seasonal depression. How I envy them. But according to Daffy, it’s gotten old. He opts to stay behind this migration to see what winter is like. I can guarantee that the thrill will run out by the smallest fraction of time it took for you to somehow lose interest in the only time of the year worth living through.

Things start out great. With a full lake to himself, Daffy can splash, jump and “woo-hoo” to his heart’s content. (What’s with the fade-out?) Since he has an audience, he tries showing off his fancy dives. As it is wont to do, winter ruins everything with a jump cut. Daffy switches to skating. It couldn’t get worse than this, right? Hold my cold duck. The snow, snow, snow comes down, down, down, in crushing freezing pile-ups, and anyone with half a brain would be smart to cry. Yup. In fact, it snows so hard that even the captions describing the scene can’t find Daffy. Can’t say he wasn’t warned.

Daffy is able to poke his head out of the storm to scold any of us who might have been laughing at his starvation. See, as if winter wasn’t already evil and vile enough, it also destroys a majority of food that nature’s babies need to survive. If I haven’t made myself clear enough, I was always on Heat Miser’s team. I don’t want to set the world on fire, but I can’t lie that I’d die happy. I don’t know how long Daffy has been struggling by this point, but he’s starting to see trees as meat. Protein! Delicious, filling protein! You’re needed!

Then, a blessed aroma. Food! It is food, right? Surprisingly, there’s no ‘could be’ joke. The scent vapor just spells ‘yeah food’. Daffy doesn’t have a nose to follow wherever it goes, but nostrils are enough. The scent is coming from a cabin just yonder. Inside of which dwell a couple of natural duck predators: a fox and a weasel. The weasel will be called ‘Abigail’ later on, so that’s his canon name. The fox has none, so if I had more of a following, I’d allow readers to vote on the name he’ll receive. Instead, I’ma call him Jackson.

These two have food all right, but they’re not happy. It’s all beans. Sure, they’ve got all the protein and fiber you could ask for, but have you eaten canned beans recently? Not as a side dish, but a main course. They’re kinda bland, and very soft. Not satisfying to chew. No surprise, Jackson has reached his breaking point. He wants meat. Thick, juicy, plump, marbled, direct from a corpse, meat. And there’s a knock at his door. The two are pleased to find a duck, but he’s a starving duck. And if you’re going to have duck, you want it to have some fat. That is some delicious fat.

Good thing they have food. Donning lady disguises, they invite Daffy in to fill his belly, while they method act their way through “Arsenic and Old Lace”. Just, hold the arsenic. There’s even a musical number where they try to play up the beans as the best meal Daffy’s ever had in his life. What they don’t know is, if you’re starving any meal will be the best meal of your life. When Daffy is stuffed to their satisfaction, they reveal the charade. Really should have waited for him to fall asleep or something.

Daffy flees, with Jackson close behind. Abigail, being the dumb one of the duo, runs into a wall. It’s a fairly short chase; Daffy is able to lose the fox by treating a log spanning a chasm as a railroad switch that makes a second path. Jackson runs into oblivion. I hope they have meat in heaven. Daffy runs all the way to Brazil. He might accidentally burn off all the calories the beans bestowed upon him. Last I heard, he had taken residence in the headdress of the furry version of Carmen Miranda. As for Abigail, I think he’s still loyally waiting for his friend to return with the duck. So beautiful. So tragic. One of the two, anyway.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Daffy stops Jackson. “Hey, jusht a minute bub, jusht a minute.” Is he gonna follow up with ‘are you following me?’ Nope. He just hits his pursuer.

Personal Rating: 3. I really don’t like winter. It’s lucky to have scored so well.

The Crackpot Quail

“Good morning, neighbor!”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Robert McKimson; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on February 15, 1941. (Can anyone tell me why searching for this cartoon brings up “The Haunted Mouse” as the first result? I admit it would be quite useful if I really meant to search for that one but typed in this one because I’m drunk on poster paint.)

Willoughby is inspired! It was that fateful billboard for Barko dog food that did it. That proud picture of a perfectly poised pointer will persuade any pooch to pick up pointing as a pastime. (Good thing, as the food sucks.) Willoughy is go going to track a quail. It’s not oddly specific because the title promised us one. I see it as a waste of time though. On the list of birds I’ve eaten, quail ranked at the bottom. Granted, the list is only five birds long, but it’s six if we can count turducken as a species.

He takes off and almost instantly crashes into a tree. Caught unawares, the camera keeps panning without him for three seconds. When hound and camera are reunited, a sound is heard! It’s a whistle if ever I’ve heard one. And not just any whistle; the whistle of a Odoltophoridae averyius, or the crackpot quail, to you. The males of this species have the topknot you’d expect a quail to have, but they don’t improve their status with the ladies much. In fact, the birds see them as a prime source of irritation, mainly because the feathers aren’t rigid, and droop into their faces. The whistling call they make is from their fruitless efforts in trying to blow it away.

Willoughby asks this little bird is he heard a sound that sounded like a whistle, but looks like a raspberry. You think there’s chicanery afoot? You’re very astute. Censorship aired its head in a unique fashion, that really insults everybody’s intelligence. For you see, the bird originally made raspberry-esque noises to keep the topknot up top. Observe.

The problem? I really don’t know. I mean, it doesn’t sound like flatulence to me. Maybe if you were horribly constipated, and had marshmallows crammed up your colon. I get more of a broken kazoo vibe. Maybe it’s because Willoughby’s sounds so much more proper? But if we changed that one, we’d have to edit them all? Personally, I think it should have been left alone. You want a rude noise? A phlegm snort will satisfy that disturbing craving.

The quail is Cracky! Naming characters is why anyone comes here. There is someone on this planet who saw this short in theaters and wished someone would christen the quail. I’m here for you. He’s kind of a Bugs wannabe, what with being another woodland creature and calling the dog “doc”. He’s just not very screwy if I’m being honest. He doesn’t have a wacky laugh, or manic tendencies, or anything that suggests he’d bother you if you didn’t bother him first. Shouting that he is a quail in the dog’s ear after he accused him of such is the craziest he goes. It’s a good thing there’s good jokes here. And hey, why not a quail? Quail is fun to say!

And when Willoughby tries to give chase, he crashes into “Another tree.” What’s an Avery flick without a running gag? “Page Miss Glory!” (Feet discoloration.) The tracking leads into a pond where the bird is found swimming amongst the fish. He makes good gag use of his plume, using it as both a periscope and a windshield wiper upon exiting the water. (Why does Tex like having his dog chase prey underwater? Is he confusing him with a freshwater dogfish again?)

When Cracky looks to be in an inescapable situation, he gets rid of Willoughby by starting a game of fetch. I love that dog’s run cycle. Notice how his hing legs stretch over his head with every bound? I could watch a two hour loop of that. When he realizes he’s been had, he makes his maddest, most furious dash yet. Cracky makes a sharp turn, and the longest skid in animation history takes place. (Go ahead and disprove me if you can. I won’t be too upset.) We don’t really see the skid in action, but we do see all the damage it caused. Ending up with a pile of “lots of trees.”

Favorite Part: Willoughby’s angry barks are funny enough, what with being gruff readings of ‘ruff’ but it gets even better when he asides to us “That means that I’m getting pretty sore.”

Personal Rating: 3. Maybe if Cracky had a more developed personality he could have been remembered as one of the great one shots.

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 African American 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!