Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by John Carey and Dave Hoffman; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on November 4, 1939.
When you first start out at something, you suck at it. Very few exceptions to this rule. Maybe Mozart, and most likely Mel. Probably even more than I care to list, really. Much as I wish Porky could be included, the evidence of the the two piper films he starred in contradict him. Spoilers, I guess.
The cartoon starts with the legal disclaimer that all rats featuring will only coincidentally look like your cousin’s husband. (Yeah, as if any human ever was that cute.) The news of the day is how the Pied Piper rid the town of rats, and was nice enough to not kidnap any children. But you know what? Amusing as that paper and its puns were, it was false news. There is still at least one rodent running rampant. He’s clearly a mouse, despite what the short says. Are you really going to doubt me: a zoologist without a degree?
Porky lays on the music, and tries to lure (we’re calling him) Rochfort to a trap. He stops short at the last moment, calling us crazy to think he’d go there. Now, this could be another instance of a mouse, being unfairly and unexplainedly immune to the tunes. Or, you can believe what I want to believe: he snaps out of it because Porky stopped playing and he has awesome reaction speed. That’s the correct theory. He’s also smart enough to recognize the threat and break the pipe. Or is it an oboe? Actually, what exactly are the pipes that pipers pipe? Because gift or not, I’m not allowing BAGpipes in my twelve days of Christmas.
Things call for a better mousetrap, but you can’t build those anymore. Nature can supply though. Just select your favorite snake, hawk, weasel, owl, bullfrog, or scorpion to do the job for you. No takers? Good thing there’s no shortage of animals that eat mice! How about a cunning raccoon? Or a beautiful gila monster? A misunderstood tarantula? Or I guess you could choose a crummy cat. But wouldn’t you rather use anything else? As a zoologist without a degree I can’t imagine Felis catus is the best choice for anything other than a meal.
Wow. A whole paragraph about nothing. I’m improving. Porky’s feline, Slapsy Catsy, (no relation) isn’t really that great at catching mice. He’s afraid of the little things. A phobia I just could not understand, but I won’t mock him since he validated my claims of that not being a rat. In fact, that opening text promised me ratS, plural. Lying isn’t very nice. Neither is eating cats, but that’s what Porky said I get to do if Slapsy doesn’t put forth some effort.
A small chase unfolds. Did you know that cats have the weakest skulls of the animal kingdom? If it makes sudden impact with a wall, the cat dies nine times. Porky lends credence to my theory of him being Jesus, by forcing the cat to live by shoving his ninth soul back into its flesh prison. Then, it’s time for a dose of kat-nip. Put that away. No reward until the job is done right. (Unless it’s 4/20.) Wait, my mistake. I really thought I typed “cat nip” earlier. This stuff is steroids on steroids. Not only building the cat’s muscles, but returning every life back for round two. Someone is definitely gon’ die now!
And once the scuffle is over, Rochfort comes out wearing his new pelt of genuine ermine. Look pal, I put up with it when Elmo said that, on account of him being a moron. You should either admit you know better, or stop pretending like Slapsy only killed your roommate.
Favorite Part: Slapsy cowering in fear. Growing women legs turns to cringe to mirth.
Personal Rating: 2. If you couldn’t tell by the name I gave, Rochfort could be seen as offensive today. The jokes aren’t the funniest and there’s a shocking lack of Porky. Inexcusable.
Supervision by Ben Hardaway; Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Jack King; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on March 5, 1935.
Like a good many of you, I hate dentists. I’ve never been a fan of paying someone to hurt me, and considering any dental problems I’ve had only showed up after I started to take brushing seriously… it’s a scam. And who’s to blame for everything? God. It isn’t fair to make life so horrible that even the few things that can make it tolerable (sweets) end up hurting us. Isn’t it enough to make us fat?
That was an unnecessarily long amount of words ultimately saying: As if Buddy wasn’t that great a character before. At least he doesn’t start that way. He began as a simple fudge maker. He used the finest ingredients, all organic and natural. Cocoa, sugar, 42 and an egg. Oh, and a little cardboard for roughage. Such enticing smells have never before billowed out of a pot! And what smells better than chocolate? A dog. (I also would have accepted an anteater.) Alas, most, if not all, animals are kinda killed by ingesting the stuff. Eating it is the one advantage to being human.
Remember Towser? Buddy really loves that dog. The dog here is not Towser. His name is Bozo. If it wasn’t clear enough that Buddy hates this dog, he proves it by giving him some of the fudge. If there’s a small mercy, the dog only gets a couple pieces, because fudge is bad for a canine’s canines. Admittedly true, but if you ate sugar-infused mercury, I don’t think cavities would be your biggest concern. The real reason Buddy made candy? Brownie points. Or should I say Cookie points?
He gives his girl a call to let her know that he made her fudge, all by himself, so she should praise him and never leave him and it looks like fudge-making is the key to a stable relationship, huh? While he talks, Bozo, creature of instinct that he is, heads t’ward the fudge pan. And he devours it! I’m concerned, but also impressed. You ever try to eat more fudge than the free-sample slice offered in one sitting? It’s so rich, it’s not easy. Unless its melted. That makes it easier somehow. Science is still searching for the reason.
Luckily, my prophecy of his doom fails to pan out, but the toothache one doesn’t. Alerted to the pained yelps, (Which sounds kind of echoed to me.) Buddy returns to scold. Only thing to do now is remove the tooth. Oh, did you blink you when Buddy became a practitioner of the dental arts? You really need to start watching these shorts as I do: with double-sided tape that keeps my eyes open, and stuck to the screen. The tingle and headache means its working!
Pliers didn’t work? Maybe you should carve the the jaw open like a pumpkin. Nah, rather than take my advice, look to your calendar for your answers to life. Buddy’s has a dentist pictured on it highlighting why Buddy is inept: dentists use gas. (And no wonder Buddy decided to spend his day by a warm stove. That lousy Octember weather is almost as bad as Apriluary.) Too bad there isn’t any gas on hand- BUDDY! NO! I was half-joking about your dog hating! Yes folks, Buddy has decided to put his dog under via use of his house’s gas line. You know, even Satan thinks dog murder is too evil. You want to go to “extra-special hell”?
Never mind. Buddy heats his house with helium, so the dog just floats a bit. Good thing helium is hilarious in small doses, and logically, hilarious in large. Anyone want to huff a tank with me? Now that the pup has been properly prepared, Buddy can move on to the actual extraction. All toons swear by the method where you tie a string to your tooth and something else. Usually it’s a door, but Buddy chooses one of those whatever they are on his wall. Some sort of lighting fixture I presume? Bozo seems to think it’s a toy, and runs after it when Buddy throws it.
Budds decides to use the door after all. Bozo isn’t too keen on the idea, so Bud decides to calm his nerves by tying the string to his own tooth. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s also incredibly moronic. Like watching *insert whatever you like to hate here, the only things I could supply are way too opinionated to be funny*. Bozo catches sight of a cat in the house, and Buddy is taken along for the ride. The chase continues outside, and is only stopped when the cat races under Cookie’s hammock, with the two larger mammals crashing into her. She and Buddy look weird today. Too much fudge?
Buddy is pleased to see that the crash was a help after all, as Bozo’s tooth has been removed. Cookie is amused to see that Buddy’s tooth met the same fate. I hope you’re not surprised. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later.
Favorite Part: Bozo’s howls of pain prompt Buddy to tell him to “Shut up!” But he’s still on the line with Cookie soooo…
Personal Rating: 2, that’s barely earned. I don’t find the dog abuse funny in this picture. It’s barely saved by the fact that Bozo hardly reacts to the pain once Buddo gets involved, and the psychopath paying for his crime in the end.
Now watch this:
Don’t let such an awful fate befall the Tunes. Watch their new movie. Tell everyone you know to watch it. Buy their tickets if you must. All the early screening reviews I’ve heard say it’s wonderful. I’ll be going, obviously. But I’m only one me. All 117 of you who visit: spread the word. Don’t make the world more loony by being less Looney.
Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by I. Ellis; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 7, 1939.
Here goes post 777. Did I hit the jackpot? Let’s see… Porky, Clampett, Ear-worm… Looks like I’m french kissing like a bandit. And I’d have been past that number if I hadn’t had four posts mysteriously disappear. Why, yes I am still upset about that.
Humans are naturally high-strung, easy to offend creatures. If you want to see any who are the complete antithesis of the way they’re naturally supposed to be, you should visit “Kaintucky.” Why are the humans so peaceful there? Because they don’t exist there! Zing! But it still feels like home, since the two tribes that live there, the Martins and McCoys, spend their days endlessly punching, smashing, shooting, and probably killing one another. A guy could really get to like it here.
But what if, for the sake of argument, the heads of both sides actually fell in love? Could they ever hope to be, or would they be like the most famous couple whose love ended in tragedy: Sokka and Yue. (Spoilers if you’ve never been smart enough to watch a good contender for best TV series that’ll ever be created.) Well, the unfortunate COULD happen, but that’s only because of bad blood. What if there was a peace treaty? So it was decided. Petunia Pig Martin (sadly making her last theatrical appearance for the next 85 years) and Porky Pig McCoy officially call truce. (Petunia? Why do you allow that pig on your property to be nude? What’s her story?)
Now that things are sunshine and grayscale rainbows, the two can finally be wed. Or at least be sweethearts. Friends? Well, they can greet each other cordially. That’s still better than I’ve ever done with a girl. Other locals include Snuffy the chicken and (who I’m calling) Smith the duck, who just can’t believe things have managed to get so pleasant. In fact, they don’t think it’ll last. They’re clearly ready to scratch their trigger finger, but Porky reminds them that that isn’t how things are going to be anymore. (Although he gets the twos’ last names mixed up.)
Now then you two lovebirds, would you like to take a walk? The music’s suggesting it. They do and it’s one of the sweetest, cutest, most charming things I’ve ever seen. They seem genuinely happy together as they hold hands, dance, and sing their way around the countryside. It just goes to show if there’s someone for Porky, that doesn’t mean there’s someone for you. Get over yourself. But look at the rest of the folks. They’re trying their hardest to get along, but not really, as they were clearly meant to be enemies. The playful punches evolve into blunt instrument clubbings, then more shootouts. Just like the good old days.
Not quite Daffy lets the world know that things are back on! Better get more troops! Gives a great excuse to reuse the infant-try joke Clampett’s unit adores somuch. If someone doesn’t interfere, things’ll end up like they did in “Make Mine Music”. And even people who know of that film don’t remember that! (It’s really good. Trust me. #RespectWillytheWhale.) Porky hoped he never had to use his secret weapon, but there appears to be no other alternative. He calls it a ‘Feud Pacifier’ which is the P.C. name for a frickin’ grenade. Extreme, but effective. That’s how we Americans do it!
Aw, quit your whining. He’s not killing anything except the peoples’ senses of self. After the explosion, everybody now plays friendly games, shares books, and dances around the maypole. If people won’t conform to your ways, make ’em. It’s the only way to have lasting friendships.
Favorite Part: Porky and Petunia’s duet. They really make a lovely couple, and I’m sad its taken her so long to get utilized again outside of comic books. Hopefully our next movie has at least given her more of a personality than “Porky’s Girlfriend.” (Not that I have a problem with that.)
Personal Rating: Depends on if you’re one of the sad types who are allergic to cute. You get a 2, and those of us who are secure about ourselves will be content with a 3.
Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Ben Clopton; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on June 23, 1934.
Me, I love mix ‘n match animals. With millions of species past and present, you have endless combinations. Some people are lazy and just make snake-lizards, hedgehog-mice and hummingbird-bluebirds. While people like me make spidertoads, molaye molayes, and jellysaurish rexes. Buddy has bearcats. Is that really the extent of your imagination, pal? Heck, nature could do that.
You’re about 45,000,000 years late, Buddy.
Anyone buying my fake outrage? Anyone reading at all? I wouldn’t be shocked if what little attendance evaporates whenever I’m featuring a Buddy feature.
The Bearcats is just the name of Buddy’s baseball team. That he plays on, rather than own. The apostrophe wasn’t my idea. They’re set to play against the Battling Bruisers today. And anybody who is anybody wants in. The ticket sellers are using this to their advantage, and charging husky-sized patrons for two seats. That’s just rude. I’m not surprised a few are getting in via underhanded means. Some are content to be peekers, peeping through fence holes; others are born to be sneakers, and slip in by making a hot-air balloon out of bagpipes. Finally putting them to good use.
The hot dogs are piping, the soda is sweet, and Buddy’s girlfriend is of course showing her support. You might not recognize Cookie today, as this was during that awkward phase where she was wearing a wig and thought nobody would notice. You know, there’s being polite by not bringing up the obvious, and there’s doing the right thing. Take it off. The game begins, and we’ve got commentary by celebrity guest, Joe E. Brown. Hope you like big mouths and loud noises. Hope you don’t mind if he eats your souls and joys.
Buddy pitches to the opponent with color-changing shoes. (His card is the most fun to collect.) Foul ball, I think. I don’t really know how baseball is played. And I bet you don’t either. When it’s Buddy’s turn to bat, he gets a good hit and manages to get to base by sliding with the roller skate on his tuckus. It’s okay is he cheats because he’s the hero. So maybe that’s just a different Cookie? Buddy also cheats while pitching. He uses a wind-up key to alter the ball’s trajectory. The batter slows it down with, I don’t know, whatever cartoon gardeners spray insects with. His pitch counts, but Buddy has Inspector Gadget on his team. Easy catch.
At the bottom of the ninth, it’s a tie game. If Buddy can hit this, he can win, and probably retire next year. That’s too much pressure, and he hides in the dugout until whichever Cookie that is coaxes him to grow some baseballs. There was never anything to fear, because the ball lets him hit it. Home run! The audience cheers by pelting Buddy and his gal with their chapeaus. Hats all, folks.
Favorite Part: One of the peekers is swaying back and forth at just the perfect height for a dachshund to stand beneath and get a literal butt scratch. Cure, creative, and maybe a little kinky. Congratulations if you discovered your new fetish.
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.
Animation by Isadore Freleng and Paul Smith. A Looney Tune released in July of 1931.
Happy Holidays. That’s all I have to tie into today’s featured short.
We find Bosko doing what I always want to be constantly doing: sleeping. It’s clearly his calling and I don’t see why his phone can’t accept that like the alarm clock did. (I wish my clock sounded like a pig.) The indignant device coerces the clock into waking the kid, which takes some doing as he sleeps harder than a dormouse. It takes a prick from the clock’s pointy hands to finally rouse him. Groggily, he answers the phone. There had better be a significant other calling. Preferably, the “dreamboat” variety.
‘Tis so. Honey is calling to see if he’d like to join her for a picnic. The best excuse to pretty yourself up for. Why else is she in lipstick? And wow. Her VA is clearly having a heck of a time reading the script. It’s funny, but I don’t know if it’s intentionally so. Bosko is game, and leaps into his clothes and shoes, that hilariously enough, look no different than his feet. I think the phone is saying “Scram”, but I can’t tell if it means “Get going” or “Don’t waste your time with women.”
Bosko drives over, plucking his three stringed banjo along the way. (Disappearing steering wheel.) When a string breaks, he just rips the tail off of Mickey clone #561, who likes to pretend he’s a hood ornament. (He’s not hurting you, so let him have his fun.) When he arrives, Honey greets him in a familiar fashion. The two are set to go, but Bosko’s car has a bit of hard time going uphill. Bosko does his best to push, but is distracted by Honey’s dog who seems to think he’s invited as well.
While Bosko tries to get things going again, the dog realizes how delicious the rear right tire is. Surely they won’t mind if he just has a nibble, right? The dog inflates and Honey’s lipstick is back again. It must be that new kind that you only need to apply once. Your skin absorbs it, and secretes it back into place whenever you feel an intense emotion. Once Bosko (who gets layered under the wheel) gets the dog uninflated, he ties a knot in the punctured tire. Good progress they’ve made. Why not unpack here? (Was the basket in the car the whole time?)
Picnic time! Bosko starts things off by whispering Honey-knows-whats into his girlfriends ear. I’ll never know what he said precisely, but Honey turns haughty at the suggestion. Really now. If you don’t want him to constantly ask to cop a feel, put a shirt on once in a while. Bosko tries to get back in her good graces by eating a sandwich as noisefully (read obnoxiously) as possible. I don’t care if there’s no color. Seeing food get chewed into paste isn’t palatable. Why does Bosko have to do that every time he eats? Is he a kid, or something?
Since the sandwich he took is the infinite one, he could keep doing this all day. Luckily for him, it looks like the lady is coming around. Unluckily, the dog showed up too, and when nobody is looking, he gooses Honey with his tongue. Bosko is slapped, and Honey heads home. He sulks, probably because he really was planning to do the same thing. Just with his fingers.
Favorite Part: I like the dog’s eyes bulging out when he’s all puffy. Looks funny.
Personal Rating: 2. One of the more boring Bosko pictures.
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.
Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Virgil Ross, Arthur Davis, Manuel Perez, and Ken Champin; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. Music: Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 5, 1953.
That title is a lie. Sylvester is very much a pet today. But the pun! Too tempting! And yet, Tweety still gets the star billing. He’s been around longer.
Things start off in the style of their first team-up: Tweety is taking note of how winter is the death of all joy and will to live in the world, and only barely managing to stay warm via the heat of a cigar butt. Fate’s wind blows him into a house, and he bangs on the door, pleading for sanctuary. He’s putting a lot of effort into his door pounding, but no human would be able to hear his little fist-wings over the howl of that gale. That door would need to be answered by a feline, but what, are we supposed to believe this is a cartoon?
Sylvester is delighted by what is on the other side of the door. You gotta take advantage when opportunity knocks, and take it he does. It always makes me laugh when he licks Tweety like a ice-pop. That’s as far as he gets before Granny is attracted by the noise. She’d probably try to interfere and keep him from eating something crawling with germs. Sylvester sticks his treat in a vase with books on top to prevent any escapes. Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, Granny takes him to the kitchen for supper.
As is expected of a cat, he turns his nose up at the canned stuff. See, cats were just never meant to be pets like pigs. Don’t ask me how humanity got their roles mixed up. All I can tell you youngin’s about is the glory of movie rental stores. There’s a third mammal in the house too: Hector the bulldog, but he’s tied up with a broken leg. Somehow got it from chasing Sylvester. He shouldn’t be an obstacle, but Sylvester is a black cat, and they’re like bad luck or something.
Granny takes notice of the oddly placed books, meaning Sylvester is going to have to act fast and cause a distraction. Anything that will further hurt the dog will be a plus. He makes Hector’s injured paw slam on the ground, and the dog howls. (The howls of pain in this short may sound familiar. I’ve heard them get reused in the films like “George of the Jungle” and games like “Frogger 2: Swampy’s Revenge”.) Properly distracted, Granny comes to give him medicine to ease the pain. Judging by the fear in his eyes and the green in his pallor, it’s nasty stuff.
When Sylvester finally gets back to his prize, he finds a TNT stick instead. The chase leads back over to Hector who gives the cat a bite. That sounded like a howl of pain! And that medicine isn’t the kind that you have to wait at least four hours between doses. Granny could make him chug the whole bottle if it wasn’t so expensive. Sylvester does a stupid thing in his panic, and hides Tweety in the dog’s mouth. Luckily, the medicine isn’t fatal to birds, as Tweety ends up taking the worst of it. But it’s a temporary victory, since when Hector smacks Sylvester with a club, his howls of pain summon Granny for a repeat performance.
Tweety decides to stick with Hector for protection, leading Sylvester to drastic measures. He hoists the fridge up via a rope, and aims to drop it on Hector. Even though the dog is for sure under its shadow, it ends up dropping on Sylvester. Black cats. Why aren’t there more cartoons where the bad luck they bring affects themselves? Sylvester is now laid up next to Hector and worse yet, will be subjected to the same toxic tonics. And worse than that? Tweety has been fiddling with the stuff and added whatever and so forth to the bottle. If Sylvester doesn’t die, the best case scenario will be like something out of Roald Dahl’s imagination.
Favorite Part: Hector saying Tweety will be taken over his dead body. (Which is surreal to hear him say after watching the entirety of “The Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries” and hearing him speak naught but typical canine noises.) Sylvester says that condition can be arranged. It’s cliche, but its always cool when someone says they’ll take them up on it.
Personal Rating: 3
Oh, and here’s this:
I know if you read my blog that you’ll have already seen this, but I wouldn’t be a good fan if I didn’t put it up. I’m excited, but cautious.
Animation by Isadore Freleng and Larry Martin. A Looney Tune released on April 2, 1932.
It may rain, but Bosko has a sunny day in his heart on all days that have the letter ‘d’ in them. Even if that wasn’t the case, he has reason to feel glad when the sky feels gloomy: he’s going to a party! It’s not a party for him, despite how you interpret the title, it’s more like a party he threw together. That means it can legally be called his party as long as it’s not in honor of anybody else. So, what’s the occasion? It has to have a reason, even if it’s a “throwing a party for no reason” party. Actually it’s way better than that: it’s Honey’s birthday party! She’ll see him in court, but will probably lose as he’s the star around here.
While she gets ready for the day, Bosko and a whole bunch of her closest friends have already broken into her place to surprise her. Everybody is here! There’s that little dog that joins Bosko in the ending title cards; the only Oswald clone; Mickey clone #338; Wilber; and Pants Pig, second step-cousin to Piggy. And every one of them has got to hide if they want to surprise Honey, because here she comes! (Wilber? Please don’t take your pants off. It’s not one of those parties that needs the police involved.)
Wilber has a bit of trouble trying to find a good hiding spot; all his first choices are already taken. Since Bosko knows nobody will care if they can’t see him ever again, he sticks him under a flower pot. Once everyone is hid, Honey enters the room and… SURPRISE! Happy birthday Honey! Even though, you’re 2 1/2 max, we rounded up and got you a third candle for your cake. And we all chipped in an got you a present. Well, Bosko picked it out. Open it! Show us what it is!
Your dog? But you already have one of those. Bosko chases after the canine, but it ends up falling into the fancy aquarium. These are the kind of things that seeing will turn Honey’s stomach white. And there was never really any need to get mad at the dog, the present’s fine. It’s a ukulele! (Which means the five bucks I coughed up was wasted.) Might as well give it a test play, Bosko can accompany you on vocals. And Wilber is still stuck under the pot. Nobody has noticed he’s disappeared from the party, and I suddenly feel a kinship with the little guy.
He manages to escape, but immediately ends up caught in a mousetrap. Why would you have that set up when you invited mi-… oh wow. You guys are evil. He ends up falling into the cake, ensuring he now doesn’t have to share with the birthday girl. Wilber was the mastermind all along.
Favorite Part: Honey is about to get dressed, (Sexy negligee) when she breaks the fourth wall and sees us. She retreats behind a partition for privacy, but there’s a mirror in a perfect position. This is the most erotic cartoon of its day.
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.
