Category: Chuck Jones

Anything directed by the man who was responsible for directing the number one greatest cartoon.

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Porky’s Cafe

“I’m eh s-sorry, we have no d-demitasse, sir.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Rudolph Larriva; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on February 21, 1942. (Chuck’s final black ‘n white.)

Porky’s cafe? I’d eat there! You would too since I’d march you in at knife-point if you refused. (I don’t have a gun.) Seriously though, folks, this place is the best. The meals they serve are made from real ingredients that do what real ingredients do if you don’t eat them: rot. I’m sure the prices are reasonable, and the owner himself plays waiter so he can see his patron’s happy smiles. And he doesn’t even have Daffy on hand to potentially screw things up. No, the chef is played by Conrad of all characters.

Conrad makes such sumptuous pancakes. Fast, too. The secret is to work to a beat. Conrad would kick donkey at Rhythm Heaven. The downside to his quick style is that the ‘cakes don’t always land back on the griddle. They’re on his hat. He figures this, but in trying to grab them, only manages to get the hat. Guess he’ll have to make more. Fast, too, as they’ve got a customer. I’ve seen some reasonable facsimile of this guy before. He shouts for attention, but the animation doesn’t suggest that. Genuine funny, or humorous mistake?

He orders up some alphabet soup. I’ve never had that, but as long as it contains zero bananas, I’ll try it. Porky has the broth, but the alphabet will be provided right at the table. Just stick a pancake into a typewriter and hammer out some letters. Warning: consonant eating may result in vowel movements. It’s an odd cut to the patron though; looks like a scene was missing. As soon as he can blow the steam away, he can get to guzzling. Yet, the steam seems hesitant to leave. Almost as if it will die when separated from the bowl.

Conrad’s adding the sugar to his pancake batter, unaware that there’s an ant inside. It’s fun to believe this is the same ant Porky met in Africa, but wrong. And if I’m wrong once, why would you ever trust me to be right anymore? The insect tries her best to not get scooped, but fails and into the batter she goes. The patron now orders a sandwich with every available filling. Since he doesn’t like savoring the exquisite tastes that ballroom dance on your tongue here, he squishes it down, plate and all, and dines à la snakes. It springs back in shape in the stomach. See? Chewing is your friend!

And onto the griddle the ant goes. She hops about in pain while Conrad stares horrified at this unnatural creation. Leg of lamb? Fine dining. Turkey leg? Best part of Thanksgiving. Bacon and legs? Bad pun. Pancake legs? Ew. He grabs for it, and his palm kisses the griddle. Ow. And now the bottomless pit wants t-bone steak, a poached egg, and coffee. Not wanting to make more difficulties for his hardworking staff, Porky scoots off to prepare this meal himself.

Wanna know a secret? Porky doesn’t serve actual t-bones. They are delicious, but the bones of those always end up having scraps of meat stuck to them that you can’t get off without gnawing and being labeled as some type of ravenous shrewman. And if you aren’t eating every bite of the animal that died for your digestion, you’re disrespecting. Porky has a solution! Getting out a ‘T’ stencil, he cuts a delectable slice of rib-eye. (Better than getting a P-stake, right?) ‘T’ is for “Too bad the grill is too hot.” The cow muscle is charred into a teeny, charred, ‘t’. No charge.

He uses machinery to get the egg cooked. A Rube Goldberg style of contraption that sounds like a suffocating babirusa. (I love making you look up new animals.) The coffee is simple: just pour it out of the pot. It’s fresh, full-bodied, and has been percolating since they opened this morning. As the customer find out firsthand, this will make all your bodily fluids bubble along. Now, where the Tartarus are my pancakes? I can’t just have plain honey for breakfast. I’m not Winnie the Pooh. (But I often wish I was.)

Conrad is still trying to contain the horror he unleashed upon the culinary world. Ants already don’t have the best eyesight to begin with, so I don’t struggle to believe she can still manage to avoid capture while in the belly of the yeast. (I know pancakes don’t normally use that, but the pun couldn’t be ignored.) He swings his spatula wildly, and the ant chooses to escape. Conrad notices and chases after. The ant’s legs have gotten longer and stronger hauling the dough around, so she has quite the advantage.

The patron is still eating, and Porky brings out the dessert: a breath-taking, literally heart-stopping, four layer wedding cake; black-forest with cream cheese filling, decadent ganache, and more calories than there are people in China. I was saving it for my wedding, but I’ve finally come to accept that such an event will not occur, and was willing to pawn it off on the first schmoe who was willing to eat it all in one sitting. The cat and the ant bump into the pig, and everything comes together at the patron’s table.

Porky is at the bottom, an apple stuffed in his mouth; the patron comes next, still bubbling; Conrad’s above him, angry, and with pancakes still on his head, (Cat hairs? Double ew); and the ant ended up on top, happily taking the place of the groom. To be fair, my 5,063rd dream come true is put my arm around a woman of marzipan. How come the ants Porky encounters live the life I want to have? Envy of an insect is pathetic.

Favorite Part: You really cold blink and miss it. The moment before Conrad starts wildly swinging his spatula, look at his face.

Frustration at its finest.

Rating: 3.

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A Feather in his Hare

“Oh, Harriet! Here we go again!”

Them screwballs.

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese and Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Harris, Phil Monroe, Ben Washam, and Lloyd Vaughan; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Peter Alvarado; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. A Looney Tune released on February 7, 1948.

An unnamed human of the Native American variety is hunting rabbits. He lets us know this in mock sign language, and fittingly, the subtitles are equally mocking.  This picture isn’t the easiest to watch. Plenty of outdated stereotyping, mixed with an annoying nasally voice. He’s also wearing no shirt, but lacks nipples. Just thought I’d point that out.

And as is common of Bugs’s adversaries, he’s not the smartest. He can talk to a rabbit, face to face, and still be convinced that the rabbit he’s searching for can be found by following the labeled signs. One of which states that there’s also a hare down there. Always great to have options. The man runs all the way home to get his bow and arrows, (raising the question why he didn’t have those on hand already,) and begins his hunt anew. (Woah! Did you see his foot overlap the hole? Neat feet!)

Hiding in the quiver, Bugs keeps calling out his supposed whereabouts, and getting the man to waste his arrows. Have a heart! Those things are expensive! Bugs bends one to make it return to sender, and after the man gets appointed, Bugs says he’s right over there. Bugs himself becomes the next arrow fired, and manages to give a kiss before he’s released. He laughs at his good fortune, but flies right into a tree. Advantage: the man. Bugs finds himself tied to a stake, whilst the man starts cooking some vegetables. Bugs is gonna be force fed and like it!

Being tied up limits Bugs’s fleeing prowess, but he can still hop away. The man, being the agreeable sort, picks up the pot and hops after. Bugs hops away again, the man hops after again. Eventually, Bugs realizes that if he stops hopping, but the man doesn’t, he’ll still end up away from him and his pot. Now that he’s got space to think, Bugs can come up with a new trick. I do like how we don’t get to see how he got untied. We just expected he would be, and the creators ran with it.

Bugs chooses to pelt the man with snow. That’s just cold. Doing so in July, (which is one of the only 12 months worth living through) makes it all the worse. How does he sleep at night? Bugs has a very logical reason though: it’d be too cold to do this in winter. I can’t find fault with that. The man realizes that he’s going to need to use his brain to catch this rabbit, so he sets up a phony barber shop. Guaranteed to be the last scalp treatment you’ll ever need. Not at all fooled, Bugs enters.

And he reads the paper. The man tells him its his turn, but Bugs is also rather agreeable, and tells the man he can go first. He was there before Bugs after all, and Bugs is a fair hare. The man is grateful and takes his seat. Bugs takes the role of barber, and can’t help but think how much more fun this would be with an operatic overhaul. Some other time, perhaps. He knocks the man out with his pocket tomahawk, and sticks him outside the establishment with cigars. Okay. That was pretty funny. And wouldn’t be possible with Elmer.

The man is still on Bugs’s tail, so Bugs decides to use it as an outboard motor. He flies ahead, but stops at a nearby water pump. He’s got an idea! Mixing water with earth makes clay, and mixing clay with heat makes ceramics. (You ever play “Doodle God”? I liked that game.) He breaks his new vase on his pursuers head, claiming his victory over… over… say, who is this chap, anyhow? Just because I’ve been calling him ‘the man’ doesn’t mean his parents did. He identifies himself as you’d expect: the last of the Mohicans.

Bugs calls his b.s. by pointing to the sky. Storks abound with carbon copies of the Mohican. Who says you can’t be born with glasses? (I says: “Those bundles keep changing color.”) Not feeling he’s father material, the Mohican faints. Bugs laughs, but takes the leaf out of his book when he sees the storks aren’t limited to delivering Homo sapiens. What’s more is the amount of young rabbits have: a litter.

Favorite Part: Bugs removing a mousetrap from the Mohican’s hand and declaring that none of the bones are broken. The fingers are bent the opposite way, but they’re definitely not broken.

Personal Rating: I teeter on the edge of 1 and 2, but ultimately lean towards the former. It’s not just the racism, it’s the voice. It annoys me. The score might not be impartial, but it never has been. That’s why I label it as ‘personal’.

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The Egg Collector

“You got that way, and I’ll go this way.”

My word! A bird! (egg)

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Robert Givens; Animation by Rudolf Larriva; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on July 20, 1940.

Egg collecting is a hobby I’ve never tried to understand. Actually, I’ve never heard of it outside of cartoons and museums. If that strikes you as fun and you’re not killing any unborn animals, go nuts. I’ll continue to collect Looney Tunes merchandise. Whoever holds the record for the most, please send it to me after you die. I’m just presuming I’m more of a fan than you are.

Sniffles has found a book on the titular topic in the bookstore where his friend lives. In what is the norm around here, this isn’t the friend’s first picture. This friend is a bookworm known as The Bookworm, who looks closer to the real thing than you’d think, seeing as he has limbs. He doesn’t talk, and is figiteraly and liguravely spineless. He’s cute though. Little glasses, droopy cheeks, bow-tie and collar, and little yellow gloves. Just what you’d expect a cartoon bookworm to look like.

The page Sniffles is on says that for amateur egg collectors, a good place to start is with some kind of fusion of ‘great horned’ and ‘barn’ owl: The Great Barn Owl. (Noctua janus.) It’s a good starting choice, because it won’t gut you like a cassowary or projectile excrete on you like a penguin. Nah, these nocturnal birds are pretty near harmless, feeding mostly on small rodents. Sniffles doesn’t know that word, nor the bookworm. (Wisest insect indeed!)

Sniffles figures a rodent must be a flower of some sort. And while it’s just a cute bit, I actually really approve of stories where animals don’t use the names we give them. Why would they? Especially the ones who were named by cruel types:

Fathead Sculpin
Pigbutt Worm
Stink Badger
Goose

And flower isn’t such an uneducated guess. Rodent sounds a bit like rhododendron if you’re drunk/lobotomized, and if the bird is harmless because of its diet, that means it shouldn’t eat aspiring egg collectors. Sniffles doesn’t even act like a rodent. I’ve never seen him gnaw.

The Bookworm just happens to know where one of these owls resides: that church across the street. Sniffles is game so the two head over. But as everyone knows, the inside is the scariest part of any building. The insect isn’t at all ashamed to admit he’s horrified. Sniffles’s scowl makes him change his mind. The rodent says they will split up. Booky agrees, but walks backwards to stay as close to Sniff as possible. With his back turned, he doesn’t notice when Sniffles takes a detour.

A rewarding detour! Sniffles finds the egg. Freshly hatched, so he doesn’t realize he only grabbed half of the shell at first. Upon finding the owlet, Sniffles thinks, “Bonus! Who knew this hobby included free snacks?” So, why do you really think he chooses to child abduct? Even if it’s as harmless as you believe, that’ll just make you look all the worse. Do you really think being a merciless bass turd is going to convince the W.B. to renew your contract? And how’s B.W. doing?

He bumped into father owl. Great shot of the bird eyeing him. Would’ve terrified my childhood a$$. As he thinks things over, he starts absentmindedly plucking feathers. As if papa isn’t pissed enough. The Bookworm suddenly remembers what kind of animals have feathers, and sheepishly tries putting them back, sweating tubs, rather than buckets. When Sniffles finds him, he tells how he got the goods. The owl responding to his comments with tranquil fury. Somehow not seeing the massive bird, Sniffles goes on to insult it as well. It was big, fat, stupid, dumb, old, and a nincompoop. Wait… his little buddy doesn’t talk…

Sniffles finally takes note of the painfully obvious. Mr. Owl delivers another bombshell: Sniffles IS a rodent. And don’t think that Bookworm is exempt from his wrath, he’s also on the menu. How many licks will it take to get to their centers? As he goes in for the kill, Junior reveals himself. As any good parent would, dad is distracted by the “birth” of his child. Relieved to see the little fella is healthy, unharmed, and his. This gives the other their chance to escape. Sniffles grabs the Bookworm and flees back to the store. Now a much wiser rodent.

During the peril, the bookworm fainted. Coming to, he has a heart attack to see the owl is still standing over him. But not really. It’s just the illustration in the book. So you saw that earlier, right Sniff? And you still couldn’t recognize the real thing? I’ve never seen a south american tapir outside of photos, but I think, I THINK, I’d still be able to tell when I was looking at the real thing!

Favorite Part: That shot of when they’re looking up into the church’s attic. Boy is that eerie! You’re just waiting for something to leap out of the darkness/twitch slightly in the distance making you unsure if you really saw something move.

Personal Rating: 2. This is barely different from the previous owl encounter. If the insect wasn’t so adorable, I’d give this a one.

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War and Pieces

‘GET LOST’

There he go-go-goes!

Directed by Chuck Jones; Co-Director: Maurice Noble; Story by John Dunn; Animation by Ken Harris, Richard Thompson, and Tom Ray; Layouts by Dave Rose; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Looney Tune released on June 6, 1964.

Well, this is it. The end. Not my end, tempting though it may be, but I mean for Chuck. This is his last short for the studio. (Couldn’t think of one more speed related title?) It’s a fine way to go, as any of his Road Runner pictures are. But it is still depressing, which is fine because I’ve been really feeling my depression this last week. I think I’ll work it into the weekly post as many times as I possibly can and hope the antidepressants do their one job by next time.

As Road Runner runs, he gets his usual labeling. Wile E.  doesn’t get his right away. He has to wait until the grenade he throws rebounds off a cactus and back to him. While waiting for anything Wile E. related is torturous, (I’ll never make it 12 months with my sanity intact!) I suppose it was all for the best here, as the freeze-frame manages to capture the goofiest face Wile E. could make. Well, I guess he could stick his tongue out. I ruined my description, just like everything else I interact with. I apologize for being born, and will get my parents to say the same some day.

Wile E. tries to fire himself from a bow, but he’s done that before. The new method involves a rope and pulley to aid in pulling back the bowstring. This results in his lower half being torn off, allowing us to see his boxers, socks, and disturbing human legs. I know all about having to hiding my ugly body, so he gets my condolences. Not that anyone would want to get anything from me. Well, other than ‘away’. I’m sorry, is the short still going on? Where are we now in the recap?

Ah, yes. We’re at the part where Wile E. has set up an electric eye-beam that triggers a crushing mechanism. Genius that he is, he made sure to factor in a slight delay since the crusher is behind it. Just like the good times. Problem is, its not an invisible beam. Road Runner notices and stops to inspect. Wile E.’s own impatience is his undoing here, as he decides to just make a grab right as the bird steps into the light. Invisible! That’s it! The bird won’t run away from what it can’t see. Wile E. just needs to “Goosebumps #6 Let’s get invisible!”* It’s easy. Just look at me. (If you could.)

It takes a while to find a legitimate can of that paint. Rip-off artists sell many empty cans this way. Personally, I like buying things that remind me of myself. Once Wile E. gets a nice coat going, he heads to the road and jumps at the first beep. As science has already ruined for us: being invisible means no light can get into your eyes, and makes vision itself disappear. Wile E. never saw the truck coming. I like watching his stumbling footsteps reveal he was really knocked for a loop. Then he falls off a cliff. I’d follow, but I don’t have the will to do anything anymore.

With the bird at the top of a cliff, and the canine at the foot, it only makes sense to grapple-hook his was up. His fist might be on the screen a little too long. We all make mistakes. Except me. I just am one. Wait, the hook is still up above. What did he hook onto? Just a cloud. Those things are stupidly flimsy, and it tears open unleashing its lightning. Ow, but at least feeling pain is feeling something. Better yet, Road Runner really is enjoying the view today, so he perches atop another cliff. Wile E. can try something new! I doubt it will work. I doubt a lot.

Wile E. tries riding a missile up, but the sloping cliff sends him back down. This missile however, is just like a smile: tough. Rather than an explosion, it takes its rider through the Earth and right to China. (Shouldn’t have turned left from Albuquerque.) There are Roadrunners there, of course, but they are… of a rather outdated design. Actually, never was dated. (Just like me.) Or maybe its eyes aren’t squinty, but just closed because its better than seeing awful reality. Wile E. doesn’t mind too much. Chinese food for dinner!

I lie to feel better about myself. Since this isn’t the Road Runner, it is allowed to fight back. It holds out a gong to stop the charging Wile E. and the impact sends him back to his own country. It’s where he belongs. One of the many things I wish I had.

Favorite Part: Wile E. sets up a phony “Beep” Show that is really just a gun. Hilariously, the bird is easily lured in and really seems to be enjoying himself. I miss being able to do that.

Personal Rating: 3. 4 for the harem bit.

I apologize if you found today’s post annoying or in bad taste. Cracking wise about what’s wrong with me helps calm down. I’ll be fine for another year at least.

*I liked “Blogger Beware”. I wish I could say it was an influence on me, but I only discovered it after ceased updates, and I was already doing this by then.

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Lickety-Splat

‘ Again ‘

Written and Directed by Chuck Jones; Co-Directed by Abe Levitow; Animation by Richard Thompson, Bob Bransford, Tom Ray, and Ken Harris; Layouts by Maurice Noble; Assistant Layout: Corny Cole; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard and Bob Singer; Effects Animation by Harry Love; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on June 3, 1961.

A quick thank you to all my readers in Germany. You’re giving more hits than my homeland.

The guy doing the “Latin” captions had the day off, so Wile E. provides. He looks smug, and since he can keep pace with the Road Runner better than I can, he’s got reason to be. But just wait until the bird puts on a speed boost. So fast, that he appears to not appear. The roads curl up behind him, tunnels get pulled inside-out, and bridges scrunch up after him. That’s the moment Wile E. decides he’s done enough running. He’s got better ideas! And rather than the overused light bulb over the head, his eyes become the bulbs. I like creativity!

Acme does it again! Skates are no longer the only winter gear that gets a “roller” variety. Introducing Roller skis! Want to ski in the future when snow no longer exists? Now you can, and you’ll look sexy doing it. Also available: roller luge, roller ice fishing poles, and roller balls. (That’s supposed to be a play on snowballs.) They look plenty fun to me. Turning is nonexistent, though. Wile. E. goes over a cliff, and ends up embedded into a different one’s face. Stuck in the exact middle too. Too high to drop, too low to climb. But the bird is at the top! What’s the super genius way to solve this?

Obviously: you use the skis as a makeshift diving board. Each bounce flings you higher, but remember: doing this too much will make the wood splinter. Don’t attempt more than five times. The warranty won’t cover that. Wile E. is having no luck in getting close enough, so the super genius method is to send something else out, and collect the carcass. Paper airplanes can be thrown, but they are flimsy and weak. Even if they came into contact, what would they accomplish? Paper cuts only happen at the most inopportune times.

The solution: T.N.T. airplanes. Yeah, now we’re talking. That’s a man’s toy! (But a coyote’s weapon.) They’ve even got needles on them so they will guarantee stick to whatever you want to blow up. The only limit is your imagination! And poor aim. Wile E. takes to a balloon to unleash his flock. Wait… Ralph Wolf? What are you doing here? This isn’t your picture! Wait. Wile E. just had white eyes there. Yeah, I knew it all along. You’re pretty impressed, I bet.

The weapons are unleashed and fly. Since Wile E. didn’t throw them, they’re left to the mercy of wind and gravity. Oops. The last one ends up stuck in his balloon. After the explosion, Wile E. plummets. Always the super genius, he brought along a parachute. The second to last airplane takes that one out. His next two attempts are with a sledge hammer and a boomerang, but they end up getting darted as well. Should’ve seen this coming. “Dart” and “Drat” are anagrams.

The final plan is to drop an anvil on the R.R. Before he can, another airplane gets embedded in the crag Wile E. is standing on. And after that explosion, another two are stuck in the chunk he’s left with. He tries jumping back to the bigger slab, but it’s still not attached to anything, so he falls with it. He makes sure to at least keep the anvil under him so he won’t be squashed. He ends up neck-deep buried in the street. And then the smaller slab falls on him. He gets a bit of a break though. These airplanes don’t blow up, but just unfurl into “The” and “End”. (Eugh. I don’t like Wile E.’s laugh.)

Favorite Part: The first reappearance of the airplane. It’s unexpected, so the laughter hits harder.

Personal Rating: 3. It’s close though! See, after the second airplane encore, we start to expect another one. And jokes you expect are never as funny as the one’s you don’t see coming. Maybe you disagree and will clamor for a four. We can still be friends.

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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

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Wild About Hurry

‘FANTASTICALLY ELASTIC’

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.

Personal Rating: 3

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The Good Egg

“Isn’t he cute?”

Wouldn’t you know it? He’s still in a shell.

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Keen Harris; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 21, 1939.

I’m very lucky that Mother’s Day falls on a Sunday this year. It ties in nicely with our post.

All the hens in the hen-house have creepy grins on. Grins that say “Our eggs weren’t the only things getting laid.” It can’t just be my own dirty thoughts, as the eggs are indeed fertile. And I lied when I said ‘All the hens in the hen-house have creepy grins on.’ There’s one who’s infertile, and that’s reason enough to be miserable. Chicks are adorable, and once they’re not, you can eat them. In other words, I understand her sadness. Seeing how happy all the mothers are isn’t helping any. She’s got baby fever, but bad.

Seriously though, we should be worried. So desperate is she to have something to love, she’s starting scooping up any babies she finds in the yard and fawning and cooing over them. This is not a healthy coping mechanism, and I recommend professional help. Or suicide works too, I guess. Seems a bit extreme, but her death will be delici- humane and painless. She chooses drowning as her way out. And I recommend never killing yourself. Well, maybe sacrifice is debatable.

While running towards doom, the hen trips over an egg. A large egg! It’s like, kiwi sized, but the color is off. Maybe it’s an albino egg. She decides death can wait, and adopts it. Seriously though, we should be worried. Note how she fearfully looks over shoulder while running as fast as she can. She legitimately thinks she’s stealing somebodies baby to fill her empty existence. It’s really quite sickening. Let’s call the egg Arizona, regardless of what’s in it.

She gets over guilt faster than a shrew feels full. Eagerly anticipating the day by knitting some shorts. I thought booties were the traditional thing to make… oh wait, chickens get those on when they die. Yeah, so why not make something that will cover the part of the body that feathers won’t? Maybe she will be a great mom. So what was coming out of that out of scale egg, anyhow? It’s got scaly legs and a beak. I guess it must be a chicken. I’m super gooder at making edumacated guessez.

She sends the little fella to play with the other kids, but they laugh at his claims that he’s as chicken as they are. It’s mean and cruel, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from children. Now, if they had decent parents, this is where they would come in and tell them that making fun of others based on their appearances is wrong. Wait until their actions give you some good ammo. The feathered chicks decide a game of pirates is in order, so they shove off via box boat. While they don’t really exclude Arizona, they also don’t wait up and laugh when he or she fails to join them. (See? You could make fun of their speed. Call them a ‘tortoise’.)

Arizona mopes, but the other chicks have it worse. Seems they didn’t know cardboard makes for lousy boat material and now they have no boat. Their screams for help indicate they aren’t drowning yet, but speed will still be of the essence. Now, if I directed this cartoon, Arizona’s natural slowness would spell disaster for the chicks. And there’d be more pigs. I’m not Chuck Jones, so you will be pleased to know that Arizona is able to run down to the water, swim to their location, and bring all four of them back alive. Yay.

Now whenever the chicks sail, (because near-death isn’t as traumatic as people claim) they always bring Arizona along to play lifeguard. It’s always so uplifting to have people accept you for the things you can do, rather than the person you are. So realistic.

Favorite Part: Ummm… I guess one of the hens diapering eggs so the chicks would hatch wearing them was kinda cute. I’ve never seen that before. Wait, they’re the only chicks we see like that. Does time pass? Or does their family just have incontinence issues?

Personal Rating: 2. There’s a few cute moments that just barely make it not unwatchable. Light jokes though. If he doesn’t ease up of the Disney homages, there will be Chuck Jones in Trouble.

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Robin Hood makes Good

“I’d like to be the good guy once in a while. I guess.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Robert McKimson; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on February 11, 1939.

Watching nearly 100 year old cartoons is super fun, but reading several century old books can be equally thrilling. Visit your local library today! The only two animals capable of finding enjoyment this way are humans, and squirrels. Oh, I can back those claims up! I enjoy it, and the squirrels do too. Easy! The ‘book of the month club’ book for this month, is a collection of tales about Robin Hood. Squirrels love long tails!

Three squirrel… brothers? Nothing confirms they’re brothers, but nothing denies it, either. Yeah, three squirrel brothers are engrossed in the book. And what’s more fun than reading a book? Role playing as the characters! Who wants to join me in a little “Clockwork Orange?” The youngest brother offers to play the titular Hoodlum, but his older brother challenges that by asking a simple question: “Who’s gonna be Robin Hood?”

After he gets his way, his title is taken by his elder bro. As the eldest of three, I’ve been here before. But they left out the best part: arguing! I always won those because I said so.

Hey, maybe these guys need names. From biggest to smallest: Squzzy, Sqozzy, Sqizzy. Because Sqozzy was generous to give his superior the appropriate position, he is rewarded with the “privilege” of portraying Little John. Now gosh, that still leaves the question of who will be the villain. We need a villain to justify the thieving! Someone small, and squishy, and adopted…

I can’t believe Sqizzy hasn’t caught on yet. I do love his “Meeeeee?” when he finds out. He wants no part in this, but Sqozzy tells him its easy to get beat up, robbed, and belittled. And it will be fun. With no say so in the matter, Sqizz is put into costume and sent on his way. This is the way its always done, so accept your role. You are the villain in these literary games. You were the Monster of “Frankenstein”, the windmill of “Don Quixote” and the Mr. Rochester of “Jane Eyre.”

While the most charming song about harassing capitalists is being sung, their antics are watched by a fox. A cursory skim at their book tells him all he needs to know to lure them into his clutches. He calls for help in falsetto, claiming to be Maid Marion. (I always figured she was a fox.) It’s a shame that the boys hadn’t reached that part of the book yet, so they’re hesitating. They’re also not questioning how their imagination is coming to life. They voluntell the youngest to get the goods.

Though he looks more ground squirrel to me, he has the speed of his arboreal cousins, and snatches the book without getting snatched himself. The fox only managed to get a mouthful of flowers. Since he’s GF, he leaves in a huff. The squirrels were probably sour, anyway. Speaking of, the book has just let them know that lovely ole Marion is Robin’s sweetheart. That means they gotta save her! (Aren’t you guys minors? It could explain why you’re dumb enough to fall for this.)

Hearing the kids answer his call eventually, the fox gets back into character and has them follow the siren calls into a secluded cabin, with a locked back door. You know, this cartoon was way ahead of its time. Once the two are in, the fox enters as well, locking the other door. I know he is going to eat them, but it still sounds reeeeeeally disturbing to hear him admit how much he likes little squirrels. Figurative predators have tainted the literal ones forever. A-holes.

Being so young and small, Sqizzy was too slow to make it into the house with the other two. Peeking through the door, he witnesses the fox telling his now tied-up brethren about the side dishes that will soon be their new neighbors. Shame they were pricks, otherwise Sqizz might have felt the need to lend a paw. Wait. This is his chance to prove he can be a hero! Good thing there was a French Horn just lying in the forest. (And if that’s not what it is, I don’t care. I just listen to the music; never claimed to understand it.)

As the fox prepares his meal, he hears the sound of hunting horns and howling hounds. (How does Sqizz manage to echo like that?) “They” follow the trail straight to the cabin, happily exclaiming they will have fox stew tonight. (Much more humane than just getting his tail.) God-level acting is Mel (which is actually his level when he’s not trying) as the fox showing his true colors. Sure he’s a carnivore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not afraid to die. And with both doors locked, he’s bargaining with his prey to do him a favor, while taking breaks to pound on the exit with all his might. (This short takes place in the future of Octember 1952. Which really did start on a Sunday.)

When he’s gone, the bros. easily escape their harnesses and go to thank their heroes. It’s always nice when squirrels talk to humans; never the results of witchcraft or mushroom sambas. But all they find is their little brother who’s got just one question for them: “Whoooo’s gonna be Robin Hood?” I’m gonna hazard a guess. Squzzy. No way in hell is he letting you hold anything over his head.

Favorite Part: I suppose I should grant it to Mel as the fox, but the line that’s always stuck with me is Sqizzy saying “Guess we better break down the door.” I can’t explain it better than its always made me laugh. Maybe because he sounds so deadpan?

Personal Rating: 3

Now, what’s this I hear about the Termite Terrace building getting torn down? I don’t want to live in a world where that happens! Are you really willing to lose me?

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Sheep Ahoy

“Hello, Sam.”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Richard Thompson and Abe Levitow; Layouts by Maurice Noble; Backgrounds by Phil DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 11, 1954.

Ralph is getting an early start today. Fred Sheepdog hasn’t even clocked out and Ralph’s already slinking down to the still living mutton chops. But Sam’s on his way. (This being their second picture, Fred still calls Sam ‘Ralph’.) Ever on top of things, Sam allows the sheep to continue living by knocking a stone onto Ralph’s head. Two can play that game! But why just repeat what the other guy already did? Ralph drops a boulder towards Sam, but it gets caught by one of those trees who decided growing in dirt was too easy and made it’s dwelling a cliff face, (*phew*! Lot of words.) and tosses it back.

In between fade-outs, one of the sheep has decided to graze on Sam’s ledge. Ralph merely has to pole vault over the dog, but even that is met with difficulties. Sam grabs the pole before Ralph could let go, and brings him down for another punch. (His paw gets darker in doing so. Maybe he’s wearing brass knuckles?) Ralph next tries a smoke bomb. But he doesn’t try using it to blind everyone else because then he wouldn’t be able to see his targets either. He just uses it as cover for himself because smokescreens have paws a good 58% of the time, and he can still see out of it. (Really, how is this supposed to be useful?) Sam tosses an explosive into the smoke, turning it black and obscuring Ralph’s vision for sure, leaving him to walk off a cliff.

A fake rock disguise seems to work perfectly as Sam treats him as he would any other rock: something to sledgehammer. (I love Ralph’s trembling as he sees this approaching. It’s gonna hurt.) The little pieces head back to regroup for a new tactic. He/they eventually devise a pedal-powered submarine to sneak upon drinking sheep. But… if his legs are poking out, doesn’t that mean water is leaking in? How does he breathe? (He should really listen to the background music. Every Chuck Jones fan knows it means certain doom is ahead.) Seeing the detour sign that Sam is holding gets Ralph to head over the nearby falls. Pedal all you want, pal. Water always wins.

Simple usually works best, so Ralph decides to just use a plank to fling Sam away. I don’t know what physics would usually dictate would happen, but Sam is flung up rather than away. He pounds Ralph. The whistle blows saving Ralph as the night shifts are returning. Fred once more takes Sam’s place whilst George Wolf fills in for Ralph. He’s just as bad with names as Fred is, as he calls Ralph “Sam”. (So at least the names are present and counted for.) You know, I bet Ralph planned that last stunt knowing George would pay the punishment. That’ll teach him for not bothering to learn his name!

I kinda want to see a short based on Fred and George now. Do you think they’re friends on the side as well? (I’m purposefully not making a “Harry Potter” reference, but I guess you can if you want.)

Favorite Part: One of the selling points on the fake rock is “Be popular.” That is blatantly false advertising and they know it, but it works because I’ve bought twenty.

Personal Rating: 3