Category: Merrie Melodies

Cartoons that were labeled as such.

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Prest-o Change-o

“It’s twelve o’clock!”

Supervision by Charles Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 25, 1939.

Charles and Joe are on the run from the world’s scariest dogcatcher. Basically an evil silhouette with an eye. Shadows always are scarier when not attached to their source. But they still don’t have a brain, so the pups give him the slip by ducking into the nearest house. A sign declares it to be the home of the magician, Sham-Fu. Because why not advertise yourself as a fraud? Most humans will be too dumb to catch on. They’ll probably think it’s a riff on a certain dolphin, and that’s despite the fact this picture predates her by a couple decades.

The dogs are almost immediately separated. The doorway Joe enters just shrinks to nothing before Charles can follow. He wasn’t paying attention anyway, so all he knows for sure is his partner in whatever crime they are currently on the run for is gone. But there’s another warm body on the premises for him to interact with. None other than Proto-Bugs! Who possibly could be Sham, seeing as we never actually do that with a human. It’s just a stage name he uses to sell shows and afford this house. Probably just hires people off the street to pretend to be the magician. Always suspect the rabbit!

My theory garners more evidence by revealing P.B. can perform prestidigitation. For his first trick, or feat really, because it’s actually happening, he makes a decorative vase disappear and reappear in the air above Charles’s head. Then he makes himself disappear in the coat he originally appeared from. When the angry Charles tries to get him, he instead gets a dead lobster pinched on his nose. For a dog, that’s like you getting your eyeball pinched by a live lobster. As as is the style of cartoons with these dogs, we will now switch to Joe’s escapades.

He has found a different sort of magic being. If that can even be the appropriate term since he runs into what is labeled as a “Hindu Rope Trick”. ‘Indian’ isn’t P.C. Or even just C., as this rope was born in Cleveland. It seems friendly enough, but without facial features, we’re just guessing. And we’re guessing ‘no’ since it refuses to shake Joe’s paw and thwacks him on the head. Does that count as punching or whipping in this case? Joe plans to give him what-for, (and we know what for) but it’s time to check on Charles again. I worry about him.

He has just managed to rid himself of the crustacean cadaver, when P.B. reappears. He can materialize a pop-gun, shoot Charles in the nose, then turn into a push to avoid consequences. He also knows how to turn himself back to lagomorph to give the dog a smooch. Then, when Charles threatens to tear him a new one, he makes himself disappear into thin hare. Er, that ‘h’ is supposed to be silent. Um, Joe distraction!

Joe is following the rope still. Thank you, Joe. The rope snakes its way into a trunk and gets a hold of a magic wand. A prop holding a prop? What’s next, a star orbiting a star? The rope summons a vase to drop on the dog, then a pitcher to pour water on him. It’s very container based. The rope also disappears for a frame. It’s no slip-up, it’s magic! Joe next tries to rest the wand away, (losing his tongue in the process, which seeing as he’s not magic…) and in the scuffle he swallows the dang thing. Now he can hiccup canaries! Points for an original superpower.

P.B. is still picking on Charles. He disappears again, only to reappear again, to pinch Charles’s nose again. Then he flees again, but not into the air this time. He ducks behind a door, which he then turns into a chest of doors. This time, the ‘s’ is silent. Reappearing to tickle the poor dog and laugh about it. And now, back to the Joe show. He’s also gained the ability to hiccup helium balloons. Magic is allowing him to create an element out of nothing. I’m starting to see why Muggles aren’t allowed to know about these things. And here I just thought that magic types were dicks.

Joe tries to hold the hiccups in, but this just makes the balloon materialize in his stomach. He goes flying through the air, just as P.B. has locked Charles on the other side of the door. While the bigger dog demands to be let in, Joe crashes into the rabbit and they both go back out the door. When Charles gets out from under it, he finds P.B. somehow got himself wrapped up in the Hindu rope. Rather than risk giving him a new weapon, Charles takes the wrapped rabbit and puts in in a couple locked boxes. (One of which has a color-changing lock. I think it’s magic?)

Joe hiccups again, and Charles worriedly watches the resulting balloon. His fears are warranted, as it pops into P.B. and he shoots Charles a final time. He tries to disappear once more, but Charles has had it. He stops the trick, and gives the proto-bunny a punch. He is a boxer, after all.

Favorite Part: During P.B.’s first trick, he looks in Charles’s ear as part of his showmanship. Completely innocent and naive, Charles returns the favor.

Personal Rating: 3. As entertaining as magic shows can be, I can’t help but remember that I’m just being lied to. Animation is always very honest with me. That’s why it’s the only friend I have.

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Screwball Football

“Rah. Rah. Rah.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Melvin Millar; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 16, 1939,

In my life I’ve considered there to be four major sports. There’s basketball, the only one I can watch and enjoy. Soccer, one I never had interest in, but never thought was worth hating. Baseball, which I don’t give a dang about. And American Football. The one I never could understand the appeal of, never bothered to learn how it was played, and do my best to pretend it doesn’t exist. Sounds like it would make for a great Avery gagfest.

Time for a game at the Chili Bowl. (I’ve bean there.) The crowds are literally colorful, literally roar, and are literally dogs. The weather is behaving, so infants can get away with wearing as little as possible. One in particular is constantly eyed by the older gentledog next to him. I will dub him Mr. Poe. First name, Kree. Luckily, what he’s really after is the pup’s ice cream. Constantly sneaking licks whenever the little guy’s head is turned. Still belongs on a watch list, because he’s probably giving the kid Parvo.

The game begins, and a lot of the gags are okay at best. Players dance effeminately; they are kicked in the end zone instead of the balls; said balls are the ones carried away on the stretchers. Gregory (who has a brother in prison) is a 12-year bench warmer who is finally getting a chance to play. He comes back in a full body cast. Constantly shattering expectations; that’s our Gregory!

Have time? ‘Cause it’s Half time! Music is played while the sides change. The players are given a chance to really grill the coaches on their lousy work. And now we can get to the best part of any sport, the final part. Players catch players and get rewarded with smooches. Touchdowns get interrupted for commercial breaks. (Gives the thighs a chance to phase off the plane of existence.) And the cheerleader’s head breaks up with the neck to do some bouncing. This is during the time when cheerleaders were guys. That’s not a joke. Wasn’t until WWII that women became synonymous with the activity.

The game can only end when the gun fires. When it does, the score can be tallied and winners decided. Ah, there we go. I was starting to worry we were going to reach feature length and get called Field Jam. Or since it’s FOOTball, would it be Toe Jam?

Favorite Part: That wasn’t a game official firing the shot. The baby was sick of having his dairy devoured, and put some lead in Kree’s head. You gotta respect the cream.

Personal Rating: 3. The puns aren’t kinda lame, but there’s plenty of slapstick violence that I think make it pretty enjoyable. But if it’s extra enjoyable you want; with more dogs playing, I’ve got just the thing!

And now I must ask you to watch one more thing.

Come, friends. Join me in a squee. And fantasize who you want to cameo in this. Here’s my picks:

  • The Dodo
  • Ralph (Both Wolf and Phillips)
  • Bosko (I know that’s a pipe dream)
  • The Mynah Bird
  • Sniffles
  • Charlie
  • Snafu (Another long shot, I’m aware.)

 

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Pagan Moon

“Aloha!”

Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Norm Blackburn. A Merrie Melody released on January 31, 1932.

Welcome to paradise! That’s what I call this tropical area our short takes place in, because I have no idea if its based on any real world counterpart! The natives have tannish skin, but white voices. They dance, they sing. The lone female is either a child or a victim of an unplanned mastectomy. I hope for whichever one matches her age to the boy she hangs around with.

He can play a ukulele, which in my book means she can do better than him. Sorry for any offense, but I heard enough of that blasted instrument in high school for me to develop a rest of my lifelong hatred for it. He can also play his mouth. No, that’s not a pretentious term for singing. He puts his palm over his mouth hole and lifts it repeatedly. Kinda makes him sound like a kazoo. That means if he also plays bagpipes, he’s useless for musical purposes.

There’s a monkey and an ape in the trees. So, we can’t be in the Caribbean sea. Even if it’s currently night out, I think their skin would be darker if they were on some African island. That ape doesn’t look like an orangutan. I’m starting to think we’re just at a theme resort made by the clueless types. Wait! I recognize that variety of dancing tree! We were in Afrindiamerica the whole time! I’ve just never seen the colonized part. Anyone would make the same mistake.

Well, it’s time for the characters to receive their complimentary names. Mac and Damia should suffice. Now I can specifically say that Mac loses his ukulele in a crocodile mouth. My wish came true! And Mac isn’t in much danger as this species of Crocodylus is commonly known as the dockodile. Its head remains at the shore, and its body has to stay in water. It can’t just climb out and eat anything, so Mac is safe at half-a-foot away. And since nothing of value was lost, he can leave!

*Sigh* He gets his instrument back. Just needed a stick to keep the jaws from closing. This species of Crocodylus has a very weak bite force, so its… in a sticky situation! (You can’t tell, but I’m smiling now.) Mac leaves for his boat date with Damia. Night is the safest time to do that, as all dangerous animals are diurnal. Even better, I get my wish again when Mac drops the uke overboard. Either God is sending him a message, or I have a wishbone in my body. If power didn’t corrupt, I’d be wishing for a second stomach next.

Mac decides to dive down after it. Cartoon physics said it wouldn’t float, and they were spot-on. Just gotta be wary of the ichthyoids down here. One of which would have been seen earlier that month by theater goers! They must’ve been really proud of that animation! It actually would have been hilarious if they had found a way to stick it in every short released that year. Once at the bottom, Mac realizes this is the graveyard for musical instruments. And the odd caterpillar. Breathing is also not a problem in W.B. cartoons. You could have a rabbit down here and it would be logical!

The problem down here is an octopus. The scary underwater creature until people remembered sharks existed. Mac calms him down with a little piano playing. Looks like the kid isn’t musically incontinent after all! And this silly symphony attracts lots of frolicking fish. Ever an attention hog, the octopus has to take a turn at playing, himself. And he’s quite the talented pianist too! You’d think his arms have neurons in them or something! And everyone is supportive! Even Mac. That’s big, Mac.

Time to flee! A large fish arrives on the scene looking to sea food and eat it. Not necessarily in that order. He’s more flexible than the octopus. Mac doesn’t have a body that’s evolved to move through H2O as easily as he breathes it, so he makes his escape via bubble. Floating is faster than anything that requires effort. He escapes, but continues to float into the sky. It’s day now, which means he really kept Damia waiting while he screwed around in that octopuses’ garden.

A passing cormorant hates to burst his bubble, but I’m lying. Down Mac goes. Damia, the competent one in this relationship, mounts a rescue abroad a pelican. I know you’re upset, but it’s nothing to lose your arm over. This was a smart move, as the bill makes a perfect basket for a perfect catch. Damia joins him for a laugh, in the pelly, with thee. That’s a strong neck the bird has.

Favorite part: The underwater shot of the the couple’s boat. Looked good.

Personal Rating: 2

 

 

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Corn on the Cop

“Bye-bye, birdie.”

Rock it, squad.

Directed by Irv Spector; Story by Friz Freleng; Animation by Manny Perez, Warren Batchelder, and Bob Matz; Layouts by Dick Ung; Backgrounds by Tom O’Loughlin; Film Editor: Lee Gunther; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc and Joan Gerber; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Merrie Melody released on July 24, 1965.

Halloween in July! Summerween, I think it’s called. I prefer Easter myself, but we need the ‘ween for story purposes.

Granny (not voiced by June this July, and you’ll notice.) is purchasing goodies for the holiday. Let’s rate them! Apples: tasty, but always a ripoff on Halloween. I’ll let you have this one only until the 90’s. Bubblegum: tastes good, looks disgusting, and I really hate putting anything in my mouth that I’m not going to actually eat. Corn Candy: I’m pretty sure you’re legally allowed to call it ‘Candy Corn’ but it sucks regardless. Lollipops: entirely dependent on the flavor, but I don’t like having a stick afterwards.

I’m skipping her house. It’s not the lousy treats, it’s her attitude. She seems to really hate this holiday. Kids get an excuse to scare her. So why even buy the sweets? Part of your religion, isn’t it. Now for that story purpose: being Halloween, a crook disguises himself as an elderly woman. Because people will think he’s really a woman. Nobody is going to think it’s a disguise? Tonight? If anything, shouldn’t this mean you can wear a traditional burglar outfit?

Turns out, the grocery clerk who helped Granny is dumb enough to not think for a few seconds. Fine, I guess I wouldn’t think rationally if there was a gun in my face either. He is at least knowledgeable enough to inform the police once he’s complied with the demands. But, this whole time he thinks it was actually Granny. Why bother with Halloween at all then? I’ll get to it when the recap needs me to.

Police H.Q. cuts into the fade-out of the cashier to alert the closest pig of the robbery. The closest pig has a duck too! Ah, Porky. I can’t completely hate any cartoon that you’re a part of. (That one dosen’t count.) The two are filled in on the details: elderly lady, blue dress, bonnet, (is it really?), and $798.44 in stolen currency. Sergeant O’Duck tells his partner to get going to the last location she was seen, despite Porky trying to tell him something. Something important. Something like “That’s w-where we we-we’re p-par- stationed!”

They find the actual Granny. Shame no one was able to notice that mask the thief was wearing. Might be a good distinguishing feature. They demand the bag and she refuses. No matter how good their cop costumes are. Now you know why we needed a specific holiday. Then she smacks them with her shopping bag. Ever been smacked by a bag of bags of corn candy? Makes you bruise like the apples Granny just ruined.

She runs off in fear with the two in hot pursuit. She passes by the real burglar, and since their wearing the same get-up, the Po-Po-Porky team mistake the actual crook for the false one. The sergeant wants all the credit, so pushes the brains of their outfit aside. Duck shot! Granny makes it home to the crummy apartment complex she lives in. Guess Sylvester and Tweety really were the ones making all the money. Crooky has also fled here, ducking into an empty apartment up for rent. Wouldn’t that be the first one real cops would search?

Good thing that’s no concernĀ  of ours. O’Duck and newly nicknamed Dr. Coolpork knock on the fake crook’s door. Despite what just happened, she’s still willing to give them a treat. Religious reasons, I knew it. The sergeant’s plan is to have Coolpork lower him down to her window via a rope. Hey! Don’t start to fade-out when the pig is still talking! I’ll have you know I’ve thrown rocks at people for less than this! And more! I got a lot of rocks. The fake granny cuts the rope. O’Ducks aren’t known for their flying skills, so down he goes.

The next scheme is to build a hardly structural bridge out of planks. When Coolpork goes for more wood, he notices how badly the fist one was nailed down. He rips the nails out. Come on, man! You’re smarter than that! That’s something Ryder would do! (May have gone too far with that one.) Why not use a ladder? Calling for back-up won’t work because the rest of the beat got the day off for religious reasons. O’Duck carries while Coolpork directs. When the real Granny closes her window, the fake granny opens his. And vice-versa. Time for Crooky to escape.

He’s spent the whole night and some of yesterday digging a tunnel into the sewers. He exits via the manhole, leaving the coppers to fall in. I like focusing on Porky. Heh-heh, I mean the camera doing that. There’s more of a laugh when you don’t see the bottom guy about to fall in the hole. Granny’s had her fill. Not at all surprised to see Crooky, (Were you aware he was there? Shouldn’t you have figured the cops were real, then?) she drags him off for corporal punishment. She’s got a real nasty spanking hand.

As Crooky is punished, another cop shows up. Granny knows this one, so doesn’t think he’s yet ANOTHER delinquent hooligan out to harass her and get rewarded for it. He doesn’t even bother to correct her; just says he’s been looking for the guy and will take him off her hands. And addresses her as Mrs. Webster. Wow! We had to wait three years alone for her first name, and another 12 for the sur. I notice a good friend of mine only needed one year before being comfortable enough to confine.

Granny Webster says she’ll be taking the other two to their parents herself. So she drags Coolpork by the ear and O’Duck by the not-an-ear, and heads off. Too bad the picture ends before we see her getting arrested for assaulting officers. Yeah, thanks for speaking up, Flauerty. Your nickname can be douchemeat.

Favorite Part: When Granny runs by him; Crooky: “How do you like that? You come up wit’ somethin’ new, and right away you got imitators.” Funny due to how true it is. Sad for the same reason

Personal Rating: 2. I’m probably being too kind. Call it holiday spirit, but it was great to see Porky and Granny (Especially Porky) one last time. Mistaken identity naturally lends itself to comedy, too. Better than another Daffy/Speedy picture, anyway.

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House Hunting Mice

“Now ain’t you cute.”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Phil Monroe, Ben Washam, Lloyd Vaughan, and Ken Harris; Story by Michael Maltese; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Peter Avarado; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 7, 1948.

You know Chuck, I liked your idea of dogs inspecting a futuristic house fine enough, but if you were to ever try again, it might be more fun if you featured smaller mammals. Like shrews, or tree shrews, or elephant shrews. Ooh, maybe all three? … Or I suppose you could use an animal everyone is aware of, sure. But you better make one of them shrewd!

Hubie sees an ad for one of those homes with all the trimmings. He summons Bert and suggests they take a look and see. Bert is ready to run upon hearing the automated voice, but Hubie keeps him on a tight leash. So it’s mechanical! That means those with short attention spans can now have fun with any task! And these guys are definitely short.

The first button Hubie presses starts an automatic phonograph. The contractor installed the part that actually plays music a couple yards away from the records. He said he was very sorry. So the engineers had to think of a way for those records to get to their destination as they don’t have any feet. The solution was surprisingly simple: just chuck ’em over and make sure the phonograph has a catchers mitt. It works like a charm so long as nobody stands in the line of fire. I mean you could still do that if you’re a jerk and music hater. They’re interchangeable terms.

Next up, the latest model of Elia. She still arrives when there is something to sweep up. And this house is still looking out for you by smoking cigars so you don’t have to. (And in later models, we hope to make it defecate for you as well. Staying classy over here.) Bert wants to push a button, but Hubie vehemently refuses. Smart people push buttons; dumb ones get the managerial positions. But Bert is so insistent, and pretty cute as well. How could Hubie say no to his partner?

He allows a press, but makes sure to get some distance put between them. He knows Bert so well. But the odds aren’t in his favor, as Bert pushed the button that does laundry. Turns out, laundry in the kitchen still happens to this day. And if you’re not blown away by this fact, sorry I grew up in a house that was different than yours. If I didn’t, do you think we could have been friends? Once Hubie’s been through wash plenty, he decides to give Bert extra slaps. He’s earned it.

It’s then that Hubie sees the dream button. Figuratively. I mean, he sees it literally, but it… oh, you know. It’s a cheese dispenser. I’m not surprised Hubie can read. I’m impressed Bert can. They give it a press, and it works great. But the contractor built all counters and tables out of its target range. This time he said he couldn’t be a$$ed. Being cooped up like it was made it dry, anyway. Once it crumbles, Elia shows up to do her one job. It’s funny hows there’s about 195 buttons in this house and not one of them is labeled ‘OFF’.

This time, Bert is ready with a plate. And while I notice that the two are lucky humans didn’t find this free snack source sooner, he gets clonked by the very hard cheese. Maybe it’s Chhurpi? Maybe I didn’t have to look up a clever answer, too. Elia sweeps up plate and mammal for the first time. When Bert leaves the trash, her advanced programming alerts her that refuse is trying to leave its proper receptacle. She really is a modern marvel. As opposed to modern Marvel. (I actually have no idea if they’re still as loved as they used to be. I just figured I had to make the pun.)

To free his pal, Hubie commits defenestration with a vase. By this point, Elia no longer feels she needs to be limited to the house. The whole premises can be hers to clean! Bert is freed and because he’s a good guy, (read: dumb) he answers the door when she rings. Guess one of them has to go, and Hubie loves Bert even if he won’t admit it to his face. He drops a bunch of fireworks to attract her attention, and Bert escapes while she’s distracted. But that was just step one of the plan.

Hubie next drops a lit candle. When Elia adds it to the garbage mixture, she gets a big bang out of things. Only nearly destroyed, she uses her last bit of remaining strength (and remaining body) to push a button herself. This one summons a repair service we like to call Repair Service. The author of the blog post said the list of names given to nameless characters is starting to get too long to peruse. The bots head back to the closest they share. (Don’t you rush them! They still need to figure out what they are to each other.)

Okay, so she can’t be destroyed. How does one manage to get rid of her before Skynet? Hubie has another idea and its also pretty brilliant. He goes back to the record chucker, but this time made sure to nail the phonograph into its hole. With nothing to catch the vinyl, it breaks to pieces. Elia is summoned. Then Hubie turns the device to top speed. You know, in case you like listening to music for less than a second before moving on to the next one, You know, like TikTok.

I think the record for broken records was broken. But Elia did what she was programmed to do and carts them all to the trash, destroying the can herself. Instead of worrying about the paradox of how she would have to sweep it up, drop it, then have her programming tell her to sweep it up, then drop it, etc., she decides to find work elsewhere. Don’t mention that she wasn’t even getting paid! She’s gone! Hubie’s a genius!

Bert isn’t. He decided to push the ‘Spring Cleaning’ button, and all of Elia’s sisters show up to make this place spic, span, spac, and maybe a little more spic. The mice try to escape, but are rolled up with a rug and taken where all the rugs get taken on this day: outside to be beaten. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Hubie gives Bert a double dosage.

Favorite Part: Hubie asking Bert to dance when they’re first trying the phonograph. They really are a cute couple, and I buy them as one more than Mac and Tosh.

Personal Rating: 3, but it really is better than the last time. More focus.

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Little Orphan Airedale

“It’s not good for me to be roughly handled.”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Tedd Pierce and Michael Maltese; Animation by Lloyd Vaughan, Ben Washam, Ken Harris, and Phil Monroe; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 4, 1947.

A break-out is in progress. Looks like the Phantom Blot has finally had it up to here with prison life. It’s clearly done a number on his psyche, as he digs his way out like a dog. Actually, it is a dog. And this is a pound. One that gets a hefty chunk of taxpayers money. Got a little courtyard and everything. Still, prisons are prisons. And sometimes gulags. The dog escapes, but the warden’s on his tail.

Lacking in hiding places, he hops into the first car with an open window. The pursuers keep on their way, but that doesn’t mean nobody witnessed him. Charlie Dog, in his film debut, is in this car. And he knows this guy! This is Rags McMutt. Pretty rude of his parents. The first part, anyway. There’s no shame in being a mixed breed. We really ought to be encouraging dogs to do that more often.

Charlie doesn’t worry about these things because he has an own-… mast-… I really don’t like either of those terms. Even ‘human’ isn’t entirely accurate. Let me pretend you haven’t figured things out and allow me to explain. Charlie was looking for somebody to love him. Some might say that’s a horrible way to go through life, but that’s because they have someone who loves them. Leave me and Charlie alone.

Charlie’s methods did not include the soulful eyes routine as he suggested Rags try. Rather, Charlie just mimicked everyone who passed by. People who can laugh at themselves make great friends, right? Maybe this is just his way of mocking the people who aren’t going to have the privilege of sharing a home with him. He thinks he finds a sucker in the only other non-human walking around: Porky Pig. He follows after, making sure Porky can see him pushing the elevator button and unlocking his door, for him. Porky compliments him for his courtesy.

He doesn’t allow the dog in. You mean to say that holding doors out for ladies hasn’t made me attractive either? Good thing we’re not talking about me, then. Charlie lets himself in to give the spiel: Porky doesn’t have a dog, and Charlie’s lacking a home. They could solve both their problems! Charlie’s a mix of various sought after breeds, can do tricks, and even offers to chase cats. Is that really a selling point? I’d imagine it’d only work on two groups: those with severe allergies, and me.

Charlie talks a big game, but the cat he chose to chase beats him up and returns him to Porky. He ships them. Porky still isn’t convinced, and tries to fling Charlie out. That’s when the dog mentions that it really isn’t a good time in his life for that. What with his condition and all. A condition he whispers to Porky, and I was too dumb to realize he was alluding to a pregnancy. I guess I should’ve understood when Porky gets outraged at learning the dog’s name is Charlie, but that’s a pretty unisex name anymore. He gets flung through the wall after all. Porky is macho.

Charlie next tries to guilt him with a phony snow storm in the hallway outside Porky’s apartment. Porky agrees to keep him from freezing, and lets him in. And you can’t claim Porky is dumb and didn’t stop to think about how snow would be falling in a building. He was luring Charlie inside, so he could say the pup needs to stay in a doghouse while he’s there. Then, nailing him inside what is really a crate. To Australia!

Charlie returns almost instantly. (But also took the time to make stops in places like Bikini [Bottom] Atoll.) He’s also picked up an accent. Bless Mel, he’s trying, but it sounds more British than Aussie. I can’t believe I’ve found something Mel couldn’t do. And I won’t believe it. Australian accents probably weren’t distinguished in the ’40s. Now, Charlie claiming male kangaroos carry joeys around in a pocket: that’s always been blatantly false. But I do like him trying to demonstrate by shoving Porky down his pants. I just typed that. Aren’t you proud of me?

Charlie finishes his tale, saying persistence paid off. And here comes Porky now. Shall we take the other dog in too? If only. Porky never got convinced and throws Charlie out again with another demand to stop following him. Charlie laughs it off and disobeys. Now that Rags has seen the kind of time and effort required in getting a home, he returns to the pound begging to be reinstated. You don’t really know what it is you have until you put it in perspective.

Favorite Part: Charlie isn’t just homeless, he’s ruthless! When he sees a man who is clearly stunted mentally, Charlie mimics him as well. I’m well aware that says I’m also quite lacking in ruth, but I see it more as innocent naivete. And that’s how I hear most humans talk, anyway.

Personal Rating: 4. I will never understand why Charlie never caught on better. I still claim him as my favorite fictional dog.

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Tweet Dreams

“Are you nervous?”

Directed by Friz Freleng. A Merrie Melody released on December 5, 1959.

Animals have emotions, and that means mental problems too. Modern sciences allow certain doctors to become experts on the mind, and can give you someone to talk to, so you can manage to overcome non-physical problems and live life more happy and carefree. It doesn’t really work on humans. I know ’cause I tried it once.

Sometimes the answer to what’s troubling a beast is very simple. Take the latest patient walking out of the clinic: a dog who thinks he’s a cat. The solution? His negligent owner just needs to stop giving him cat food. I could’ve figured that out. That means I’m a genius! Next patient! Sylvester is next, but he’s here by himself, and talks to the staff. This world is weird. Strange. Off putting. I like it here. Why care for an animal when you could just charge it rent?

As Sylvester gets himself comfortable on the couch, and is told to relay his life story, we realize we’re going to be stuck in one of those clip-show cartoons. I’d sigh, but I haven’t the energy. Sylvester begins with his childhood. Odd enough, to see one of McKimson’s shorts included, but more so? Sylvester is painting himself as his son! Does this mean we’re seeing Jr. as an adult? Does this mean all the shorts without Jr. are him as an adult? You can’t be too certain, seeing as being a ‘junior’ means his name really is Sylvester. Is that true for all the tomcats in their family? Is it sylvesters all the way back? Felis silvestris?

Back in “not making a big deal over something trivial land”, Sylvester uses a clip from “Whose Kitten Who” to explain that his dad never taught him how to catch mice, as they weren’t around. He can tie a kangaroo down, though. (Sport.) Without a mother, this meant he was straight outta luck for hunting. He had to resort to fishing, as that is done by instinct. He recalls the time in “Sandy Claws” where all he got for his troubles was a tour of a tuna’s digestive tract.

It was a fateful day, as that was when he first laid his eyes on Tweety, via a very goofy still frame. Almost as if someone was angry they weren’t getting to animate enough new footage. This first encounter led Sylvester to crash into a rock via water-skis, so he instantly decided to forget things by taking a trip to the (“Tweety’s) Circus”.Ā  Who would’ve guessed Tweety worked there? He gives in to another chase, which ended with him angering an elephant. You’d think this would cause him to support the ivory trade, but no, it just convinced him that Tweety had to die.

They were just suddenly living together after that. He was no longer just “A Street Cat Named Sylvester“. It was a nice home, but he couldn’t enjoy it what with the canary obsession. Now being owned by Granny, he had to make sure his chases weren’t sighted. Hiding in her knitting box could cause him to lose fur, and I’m sure that also triggered something in him. And now we jump to Christmas, because this selection of clips wasn’t random enough. There were some “Gift Wrapped” shenanigans that got Granny wise to his game. It was probably her that suggested he get help or vacate his new domicile. What other choice did he have? Go back to fishing? Move back in with dad? Do some theater work?

Wouldn’t you know it, the doctor fell asleep. Not the worst idea to have during a clip show. But, rude nonetheless. Doesn’t even apologize. His more important problem is flying to Detroit. Telling Sylvester to call for another appointment, he jumps out the window. Not the worst idea to have dur- He can fly. This world is disturbing. Surreal. Non-cannon. Not having the money for any more visits, Sylvester flies after him.

Favorite Part: That ending was so random that I feel like if I didn’t give it the coveted position, it would hurt me. Mentally, per the theme.

Personal Rating: 1. I really don’t think you should watch these in an era where many of the featured clips can be watched in whole on physical media/whatever you’d call the opposite.

And with that said, can you believe I’ve been doing this for fifteen years now? I haven’t improved much. I’m also considering something: I’ve had my own idea for an animated series for almost as long, and I’ve never really discussed it anywhere with anyone. I’d like to just put my thoughts out there, and I think this blog could be good for that.

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Dog Gone Modern

*Whimper, whimper, whine*

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Phil Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 14, 1939.

The first appearance of Charles and Joe! If you don’t know who they are, shame on you for not reading any of my previous posts! No, don’t bother looking for any links. It’s not really a punishment if I provide an easy out now is it? If this is genuinely your first time here, I apologize.

There’s an open house that has a unique twist: it’s one of those electronic does-it-itself types that basically does all the living for you. It’s easy, but boring. But easy, so I’d buy it. And hey, open house means open to any species! And if dogs want to see if they’re a good match, I say let them. People aren’t supposed to judge humans who want to remain single, so why can’t dogs get the same treatment? If they can afford it, it’s theirs’!

Charles and Joe decide they might as well take a look. They’re a little spooked that the door opens via electronic eye. There’s a sign right there, you two. Just look to your left! And Charles? Please stop turning a darker shade of brown. You’re not an octopus. And don’t think I don’t notice that white ear, Joe! Honestly, you’re both too old to do these kind of things in public. Maybe you aren’t responsible enough to be homeowners. Take the free tour and get lost.

They manage to figure the door out and enter. Joe is definitely scared, but tries to play things cool. They both jump a bit when a recorded voice welcomes them to this house of tomorrow. They’re free to press any of the buttons they find, as they will start a demonstration of one of the many functions the place provides. Just be careful around the electronic neuterer. It’s still too aggressive. Joe pushes the first button he comes across: the one for the automatic sweeper. It just needs a reason to be called, so the house gets some cigar ash on the ground.

The vaguely humanoid sweeper works wonders. We like to call her “Electronic interior aide” or “Elia” for short. She does her thing, and goes back to her closet, which relieves the dogs. Things without faces aren’t relatable. Joe opts to push another button, this one labeled as “Automatic Control”, but the sign changes when he attempts. Now saying, “I wouldn’t touch that, chum.” Joe is upset, and this proves that at least he can read. Why didn’t you read that electronic eye sign? What and what aren’t you guys capable of?

Charles has made his way to the kitchen and decides to see the electric dish washer in action. He can read too. Maybe it’s this house. It raises the I.Q.’s of all inside it. That makes sense, right? The procedure goes off without a hitch. The dishes are washed, dried, and ready for use. Back with Joe, he decides to hit the switch regardless of warnings. Now saying “O.K. buddy, you asked for it.” the house… opens a panel. Well, what do you expect from about twenty seconds of build-up? Most of which was off screen. Wait, why am I defending such a lame payoff? Because it successfully scared Joe.

Darting into the kitchen, Joe gets the door to smack Charles into the washers grasp. Sucks for the big guy, but at least its gentle enough. Joe then laughs, but I’m not entirely convinced its at his brother/boyfriend/husband/good friend. It looks like he’s amused by the device labeled, “Napkin Folder.” I bet it is the former, but Chuck’s guys really should have made the off screen Charles exist in a different direction. Speaking of the folder, Joe pushes it in his mirth and ends up in a drawer. He doesn’t like it in there. The real napkins make fun of him.

He runs for it as best as he can, knocking Charles back into the dish washer clutches. Too bad that one was operated by a flip-switch. It’ll just keep going and going until it runs out of juice. And I don’t think future houses have that kind of problem. Joe got himself free from the napkin ring by crashing into an ornamental pot. Elia returns, even though her button wasn’t pressed this time. She’s evolving! She proves how advanced she is by making the conscious choice to sweep her debris under the rug and make sure no one caught her. Give her a face and I might be desperate enough to court her!

Joe then finds the best device this shack has to offer: a bone dispenser. He can’t enjoy himself, because it landed on the floor and Elia takes it away. (I saw your torso change color too, missy.) While chasing her, Joe knocks Charles into the washer once more. Can dogs prune? Elia takes refuge in her closest and knocks the pup into an electronic music maker. It looks like a piano with arms, but it has other instruments. And scary heads that sing along. Wanna see my impression of this house? I’m the automatic bowel releaser!

Joe gets knocked around by the instruments and ends up launched into a vase. Once on the floor he realizes who’s coming, and darts off. Guess who he knocks back into what? Wait. Instead, consider this: Elia is out of her closest! Joe finds the bone she stole and takes it back. She isn’t about to let him get away with this, so Joe runs again. Dogs are good at that. He ends up on a rug that flies around the house. Because future. You won’t even need to use an escalator to reach your second story anymore.

Charles has gotten himself free again, and this time tries to skedaddle when he hears Joe’s approach. He gets scooped up on the rug, and both end up landing in the garbage disposal. Don’t worry! The future ones aren’t blenders hidden in your sink. They’re just chutes that lead to the cans. Elia shows up, knowing her target would end up here, but Joe kills her with a hammer to her “head.” He can now enjoy his bone. Nope! Charles has been through the wringer more today, so he keeps it for himself. All that and he’s bigger too!

Favorite Part: The pups have been making dog noises the whole picture. It catches you off guard when Joe laughs like a Mel.

Personal Rating: 2. It’s cute, gotta give it that. But Charles got stuck in a running gag that I don’t think needed to reach a fourth go-around. I like cute Chuck. I adore actually humorous Chuck.

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Clean Pastures

“ā™«Only half of me wants to be good.”ā™«

Supervision by I. Freleng; Animation by Phil Monroe and Paul Smith; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on May 22, 1937.

There’s an infinite number of planets out there. (Though it’s probably closer to 3 million and 2.) Besides Earth, there’s a few others that can sustain life, and do, too. Today, we’ll visit this one. The one I’m pointing to. I don’t known the name of it, but it has a land named “Harlem”. I’m pretty sure the inhabitants have visited in the years beyond 3000. Unfortunately, before evolution helped them appear like actual human beings, the folks bore uncanny resemblances to stereotypical African-Americans.

Enjoy small mercies. Such as that the people here aren’t especially dim-witted, or rude, or struggling to survive. Their only sin is an abundance of it! The women dance scantily-clad style. The national sport is tossing dice. Their drinks are all alcoholic. You can’t go sixty seconds without some vice occurring, which means it’s a sin-a-min. around here. Especially in that building sporting the name “-ucking club.” (Uck it, Hayes!)

That’s it for worldly wonders. Let’s set our sights heavenward. Pair-o-dice hasn’t been doing so hot since we last saw them. Bad choices being so fun, combined with temptation making it seem smart is really hitting them in the stocks. The rival Hades company is simply the more popular location these days. If this place doesn’t get some business soon, it’ll get bought out for sure. Then the universe will be out of balance, and is liable to collapse on itself. Lots of legal trouble.

St. Peter needs to drum up some interest, but Gabriel plays trumpet. (Am I really not deleting that?) It’s uncomfortable listening to him as well, since he has that Stepin Fetchit voice. And mannerisms. And a nose that goes full black and an ear that does the opposite. And with those wings acting as limbs, he’s technically classified as a hexapod. But he’s not doing anything important, so he can go down to Harlem and remind people that a life of virtue reaps great rewards! If you’re dead.

Oh wow. Nobody takes him seriously. And I suppose Ben Stein wouldn’t be a good spokes-model for the Disney parks, either. Seems this planet is screwed. Want to try preaching at my world? It’d go just as poorly, but you can use it as vacation time. Peter is going to have fight evil with evil and call in the focus groups. The angels Fats, Cab, Louis, and Jimmie know how to turn everybody around! Turn this place into a rhythm heaven! Music, maestro! That’s how you sell things! Convinced, Peter gives them the job.

Down below, they do their stuff. It’s a catchy number that will also feature in the novelization of this picture. Interest is captured! In fact, the people don’t even want to wait until death. Temptation could always rise up again, you know. They follow the spirits back up. I guess this doesn’t count as suicide. Otherwise Peter wasted so much money on those guys. Who were they working for?

Pair-o-dice is once more the place to be when you’re no longer being. So bursting as the seams are they, that Peter has to put up a “No Vacancy” sign. That’s a lie, but that isn’t a sin up here. I know its a lie because a knock is at the door, and a voice is attached asking for admittance. Peter says there’s always room for one more. Can I trust anything you say?

Favorite Part: The person asking to be let in was Satan. Cute.

Personal Rating: 2. Like all the musical “Censored” the soundtrack is fantastic. Worth viewing for the privilege to listen! And I do like the concept of Heaven trying to sell itself. Quite ironic that many people would say this cartoon is a sin in itself. But maybe you should use your own judgement? And only be allowed to ban your children from viewing if you think it’s as bad as hell.

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Streamlined Greta Green

“Mama!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Cal Dalton and Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on June 19, 1937.

Today’s short takes place in an odd world where automobiles are the dominant life-forms. Post “Maximum Overdrive” they’ve revealed their plans, but pre-“Cars” every meat based creature has been eradicated. It’s a nice middle ground where we’re still sharing the planet, but we humans know our place in this car-dominated society. And the segregation doesn’t stop there. Witness the hall where only Taxi cabs are allowed to dance.

Okay, I did my research and now know what the joke is. It’s just literal now. You know, this world is kind of weird! The cars aren’t limited to driving on all fours; sometimes they get up on two. Tires are rubber, so they can shape themselves to be feet and hands. But boy, does it look unnatural and painful. I’d hate to imagine what the copulating must look like. Of course, I’ll be wondering from now on, since our main character is the result of that. I don’t know enough about vehicles to give him a clever name, so I’ma call him “Royce”.

Royce longs to be a Taxi, because I guess that’s the cool job in car town. I figured the race cars would be the rock stars. And the ambulances make more. So, how do the garbage trucks sell themselves? While I puzzle that, Royce’s mom find him planning for his future. Most parents like to see that, or at least tell their kid to not worry yet. She reacts with anger. No son of hers is going to be a taxi. He will be a touring car, like his dad who doesn’t exist on screen.

Royce refuses and his mom drags him home by his… part of him that the tires go under. (I don’t care.) He’s not to be punished, it’s just time for school. Was he playing with her lipstick? Why are his lips, (or just mouth I guess,) so red? She fixes him some lunch for later: a can of oil maybe?, a jar of traffic jam, (heh) and a thermos of gasoline. (A slightly color-changing thermos.) It’s sweet. I really can’t help but love scenes of parents loving their children. Royce should be grateful to have her.

She puts the meal in his seat, (How is he supposed to get that out?) sends him off with a loving pat, and gives his daily reminders about staying away from traffic and railroad crossings. (Her right rear axle keeps disappearing.) I do love Royce’s pouty face. On his way, he comes to what many of us only come to figuratively in our lives: a crossroads. One way goes to school, the other, the city. He hardly hesitates before choosing the latter. It’s closer! Maybe if his mom left his gas where he could actually get it, he could make longer trips.

The city is louder and less friendly. Royce should be glad there are no cops around. He shouldn’t be on the sidewalk. (Why even still have those?) He waits for the light to turn red, then gets on the road himself. Cars don’t have as many complex emotions as we do, so when the light is green, those behind him drive as if he wasn’t there. Good thing he just slides over them. Seems traffic was as dangerous as mom said. He manages to take refuge in a marked safety zone and gets a brilliant idea: carry it with him to be invincible. Gravity is the only foe he can’t conquer with that, so he falls into an open man-, excuse me, I mean car hole. (Egotists.)

Royce decides to make a stop at a service station for a drink. The human slave manning the place has many delicious flavors on hand: rose, violet, ethel. (Shouldn’t that be ethANOl?) Royce selects the Hi-power stuff. Probably not the best drink for minors, but the slave is not allowed to talk back to his overlords, and just comments on how strong the stuff is. And how! He basically gave the kid steroids. Royce is so fast, he could win a Piston cup before they’re even invented!

This speed stuff is great! In fact, disobeying his mom is what got him full of it, so he might as well go against her other wish and screw around by the railroad tracks. (The trains don’t seem to be sentient yet. Do you really care why?) Driving alongside it, he darts ahead and just barely passes in front of it at the nearest crossing. That was fun! Again! Wow, twice as fun that time! Again! Ah, if only poor little Royce listened to his body. He’s burning through that fuel faster than he’s traveling and he runs out right on the tracks. No fake-out crash for him. The train mows him down.

Now we see why the cars continue to keep us around: our fingers make us excellent mechanics. Royce’s stricken mother can only wait outside while her baby possibly gets patched up, possibly gets rebuilt as her daughter. Not to worry though, the surgery was a success! Royce leaps with a sudden jump into her loving wheels. (Was a cel lost?) She’s happy he’s still running, but like any good parent, scolds him for disobeying her. Royce doesn’t want to hear it, and runs off to race the next train.

Even though he’s out of speed juice, he makes it through unscathed. (Just ignore his bandage disappearing and reappearing. I’ll notice it for you.) He taunts, unaware that he’s on more tracks. And he’s mowed down again. This time it really is a fake-out! Those mechanics have earned another week of life, seeing as how the train ends up looking like I expect Royce did earlier.

Favorite Part: Royce encounters a road hog when racing the train. It’s a literal pig. Only adds more confusion to what this world is, but I like swine.

Personal Rating: 2. The world is still weird! And isn’t even able to function without humans, so the immersion kind of shatters for me. Not to mention the cars uncanny appearance when they walk. I gave it an extra point for the imagination it did have, and the mom car. Royce doesn’t deserve her.