Category: Porky Pig

My favorite character of all time! Second only to Bugs for most appearances, and that’s not small, folks.

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Slap Happy Pappy

“Heaven can wait.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Porky’s Naughty Nephew

“Uncle Porky? Uh, can I go swimming? Oh boy! Buy me an ice cream cone! When’s Christmas? Oh, can I go swimmin’? When’s the Easter Bunny comin’? Why? What? Oh, I wanna help on these things. How soon will we get there?”

Baby pigwets awe so cute!

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by Robert Cannon; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 15, 1938.

It’s the best kind of day. The day of the Cartoon Animal Outing. (If it also includes chocolate then I’m never leaving.) Porky’s going to be there, but his sister, (you know, the one who smokes hams?) has coerced him into babysitting. I’ve made it no secret that I don’t particularly care for children. They’re loud and stubborn and I can’t speak to them on an adult level. I’ve also made it very well known that I love pigs. And piglets are the cutest pigs can get. So what am I supposed to think of little Pinkie here?

Well, he’s got a bonnet. Minus five cute points. He’s got a wide, chubby smiling face. That’s good. He is voiced by maybe Bernice Hansen just slightly sped up, I’d wager. And he loves to torment his uncle. You’d think that’s the clincher, but no, I just can’t bring myself to say otherwise. He’s adorable! His widdle waugh! His chubby tummy! His “innocent” coos! I admit that he’s best in small doses, and it’s all for the best that he’d only make one more appearance after today, and then Cicero got the nephew gig, but for today, let me gush.

Porky barely gets settled for a nap when Pinkie’s misbehavioral impulses start up. He swats Porky with his plastic sand shovel, then leaps back into pure innocence before Porky can reprimand him. Porky decides to blame the only other kid he sees on the beach wielding a shovel. Porky, not very meanly at all, tells the squirt that he shouldn’t hit people with shovels and takes it away from him. The kid’s no novice at sand scooping, though. He has a backup. When Porky tries to take that one as well, he gets beaned by the kid’s biggest shovel. Wanna join the fun, Pinkie?

Pinkie grabs the shovel and takes a swing to defend his uncle’s honor, but the kid ducks and Porky is clobbered. Judging by the kids’ smiles, this was planned. Pinkie then heads to a body of water and pretends to be drowning. Porky, ever the caring sort, dives into about a foot and a half of water. And now a sea star is plastered on his face. Oh. I thought it was just a small pond. I’m kinda scared of how high the tides reach here. Pinkie apologizes for his antics, promises to behave from now on, and is rewarded with an opportunity to bury Porky in sand. Pinkie has a drivers license and permit to operate dump trucks, and Porky now looks ready for a luau.

Time for the real reason any of us came out here: the swimming race! Porky’s gotta win, cause he has me on his side, and that means he has America on his side! At the starters pistol, Porky jumps right in while every other contestant turns back to get some sort of cheating device. Now I really like Porky’s odds since I’m pretty sure I’ve read that the odds of cheaters winning is somewhere around the never mark. This also proves that Porky is the kind of sports hero we can all look up to. (Was that Mickey clone #673? I thought they were all dead by this point.)

All the cheaters have unique ways of getting ahead. A cervine has sails strung from his antlers, one birds rides a bike (pretty sure that would be a major handicap underwater,) and an ostrich’s long legs allow it to run, rather than swim. That’s the worst kind of cheating. In fact, I’d say the only other contestant trying to be honest and likable is celebrity guest Eddie Cantor. He willingly drops out upon his discovery of, at last, a buoy! (He pronounces it the British way to make the joke work.)

Pinkie’s been hiding in that buoy, and he’s got a real trick this time. One that could affect everybody in the race, but his only target is Porky. He loves his uncle almost as much as me. Clearly. It’s a simple enough prank. He’s going to wind up a toy sailboat, and claim that its a shark. The sails do sorta look like a dorsal fin, and once it submerges you can’t tell the difference. Pinkie’s warnings don’t fall on deaf ears, and Porky swims like he’s never swum before. He’s a regular sea pig! He wins the race, no problem, and Pinkie swims right along after, cackling with delight. When he tries to show off his awesome prank, he pulls out an actual shark. (How couldn’t he tell? How much silt is in that sea?)

Favorite Part: One of the contestants is a goose. Another is some goslings doing some competitive rowing. The goose evens its chances by eating the babies. Now they row for thee.

Personal Rating: I think it deserves a 3, but if you can’t stand Pinkie, you’ll probably demand it stay a 2. And that’s okay, but I can’t understand your reasoning.

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Porky the Gob

“All hands on deck!”

Supervision by Ben Hardaway and Cal Dalton; Story by Melvin Millar; Animation by Gil Turner; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on December 17, 1938.

“The Gob of…” Wait, I’ve already made that crummy joke once before. It’s interesting that two different characters each got a shot at the title. Too bad it quit here, because I’d have loved to see ‘Sniffles the Gob’, ‘Inki the Gob’, and ‘The Tasmanian Devil the Gob’ as well.

Well, we’re already going to get more of the gob experience than Buddy ever gave us, as Porky’s short takes place just as shore leave is over. Back to your stations, gobs! We’ve got a navy to run here! Our captain goes by the name of Skid. He’s sleeping, and that raises an interesting question. Namely: if you dream about your legs disappearing, does that cause the same reality? My guess is yes. When he wakes up, we see he’s the usual type of commander. All gruff and guff and stern-type stuff. Smacking his crew if they’re not up to snuff.

Mess call! Skid, cruel as he can be, let’s everyone know that the last one in will be, and I quote, “a softie.” Game on. Captains have fragile egos, so he demands everyone freeze while he gets to the front of the mob. This is how winners get made. One guy can’t go eat because he is in charge of getting the incoming messages. (I didn’t see him actually enter the mess hall. Ladies and gentleman, I give you our softie.) There’s bad new afoot. There’s someone dangerous in these waters who has a bounty of fifty grand. The dreaded pirate, submarine.

Sorry. I just meant the pirate submarine. (I really did think that was his name at first.) That cash reward gets Skid excited and he orders his men to help him lay claim to it. Porky, naturally tries to go where the action is, but Skid kicks him off. The polite reason is that someone has to stay behind and guard the place, but since he is accusing Porky of rocking his plane, I think he’s using the rude reason: saying Porky is too fat. The a$$hole. Porky sulks while a certain sinister sub set on subterfuge spots the solo sailor ship. Surefire success!

Direct hit! But the ship doesn’t seem to be sinking quite yet, so Porky can fight back. (With his cute hat, he kind of looks like the Piggly Wiggly logo.) And that he does. Returning shots and letting the enemy know that yes, they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. Speaking of, one guy fights dirty by lobbing his ABC gum at Porky’s cannon. That is gross times a gross! Now with Porky’s main defense gone, they can start boarding his vessel. I hope they bought the best insurance stolen money can buy.

Porky ain’t beaten! Using a rope to swing, he kicks all the ruffians out of the cartoon and harpoons the pirate sub with a plunger, bringing it aboard. Hey! I think he’s just earned himself a reward. Fade to the ceremony where he gets his dough. Even Skid is showing proper respect now that he knows Porky can make people vanish if he’s mad enough. Before things get too serious though, it’s time to visit the mess hall again. Come on! You don’t want to be labeled as the softie, do you?

Favorite Part: When Porky is returning shots fired, a mechanical arm gives him a cigar for trying. After Porky tries again, we don’t see the results, but the arm rescinds the gift. Soreheads.

Personal Rating: 2. It’s just “Little Beau Porky” but on the sea this time.

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China Jones

“Me, dragon lady.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Tom Ray, George Grandpre, Ted Bonnicksen, and Warren Batchelder; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by William Butler; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on February 14, 1959.

Daffy is Irish, but they call him China Jones. A nod to the series “China Smith” but not a very clever name. How about China Schmidt? Or China Smithers? Or… I don’t know, China Shmith? Actually, that one wouldn’t work as Daffy is actually lisp free in this cartoon. As he finishes the meal he was eating, he cracks into his Chinese fortune “cakes”. There’s no fortune in it, and that really is the worst feeling in the world. They’re not called advice cookies! I mean, “cakes”.

It actually isn’t advice either. It’s a plea! A plea for help! Someone is being held prisoner in a bakery with a reward of 150 pounds. (Do tell. They must have been in there decades to think that joke is still clever.) But as the parody suggests, Daffy is a detective and should probably solve this case. All he needs is a hot tip, and those tend to be supplied at Limey  Louie’s tavern. But as he prepares to depart, he is approached by another famous detective, Charlie Chan, er, Chung. (See? This one makes sense.) And no squinty eyes/Fu Manchu mustache can hide my beloved Porky from my fanboy/stalker eyes. Man, do I want to wallpaper my room in his autograph.

Chung is here on some matter of money. He’s not really elaborating for the sake of a punchline, but a good detective like Jones can figure it out. The most obvious reason is the most likely. Chung is just trying to get himself a piece of the pound pie. Jones brushes him off so he can get to Louie’s. Now, Louie and Jones have a bit of a history. Jones is kinda, sorta the person who sent Louie to prison. And unbeknownst to Jones, Louie is already released and has set this whole prisoner thing up to get some delicious cold revenge. Donning a disguise, he awaits the P.I.

Louie introduces his self to Jones as the Mrs. and gives a sob demonstration of how the cops treated her husband, on Jones. But once that thrashing is over, “she” is willing to give Jones the tip he needs. Pick a card, any card, specifically the card being subtly pushed onto you. These are bad leads that just lead Jones to a couple of painful mishaps, but it doesn’t seem like he’s catching on until after the second attempt. Fun’s gonna have to be cut short Louie, go on and reveal yourself.

Revealing his true identity, and revealing the hoax, Louie is ready for a Peking duck dinner. Jones bravely runs into the backroom. He trips a trapdoor that leaves him dangling over a pit of Chinese alligators. Louie does Tweety’s “piddy” shtick, to feed his pets. (It is a pretty funny change up with the thick cockney accent.) Jones barely manages to escape this familiar situation, when Chung reappears. Can he help out? Well, I wouldn’t doubt Porky is capable, but he never said he was a detective at all. He’s a laundry man. And that money matter he wanted to discuss? Jones’s bill.

In the end, Louie gets away with assault and Jones is forced to work off his tab. Shouting for help, in mock Chinese, about his ironic punishment of being trapped in a Chinese laundromat. (This ending was cut during the 90’s. Probably a good call for impressionable minds. I mean, I definitely used mock Chinese myself as a kid. I really didn’t need more encouragement.)

Favorite Part: Jones, trying to “duck” out on his bill, quotes Confucius. Chung quotes right back, calmly pulling out a club as he does so. Bass. There’s no other word for him.

Personal Rating: I’m giving it a 1. It’s loaded with stereotyping that can not; should not be considered funny in today’s day and today’s age. If it doesn’t bother you as much, I believe you can consider it a 2.

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Curtain Razor

“I killed them in Cu-… camonga.”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Manuel Perez, Ken Chapin, Virgil Ross, and Pete Burness; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Paul Julian; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on May 21, 1949.

Hope you enjoyed the green rings in the opening because they’re gonna be the iconic orange from here on out!

Today’s role Porky finds himself in is a talent scout at the Goode and Korny talent agency. It really is one of the world’s more entertaining jobs. You get to see the beginning of the greats, total failures embarrass themselves, and best of all: send the worst down a trapdoor. The operatic grasshopper that was singing over the opening titles wasn’t too shabby! Can any other acts top that?

We aren’t off to a promising start. Clara Cluck’s sister, Sara, instead of trying to develop a talent on her own, tries to copy her sibling’s opera shtick, seeing as how said sibling has been retired by now. Here’s a tip Sara: close your eyes when you do that. Makes you look more operatic and less “I’m being goosed by a poltergeist.”. She  stops her performance short upon laying an egg during the performance. Literal or figurative, that’s earned you a trap door ride. (Her egg hatches before it follows her, revealing Tweety’s stepbrother, Tweeter.)

A fox enters the room boasting about what a sensational act he’s got. Porky is willing to see it, but the fox totally cut the line. He’ll have to wait his turn. Next up for real is Cecil Turtle’s nephew, Sessile. He’s this universe’s Mel as he claims to have 1,000 different voices. (Of which, I can make out Bugs, Foghorn, Durante, and Rochester.) Despite his claim, Porky only counted 999. The poor reptile leaves, hoping he’ll remember the last one. (Isn’t it your normal speaking voice? Sessile, get back here! You need to be discovered!)

Next up, a parrot named Bingo, (who you can also see in Arthur Davis’s “Catch as Cats Can”) a chicken named Frankie, and a duck named Al, collectively known as the Three Cavalheiros! They sing just like their namesakes and I think they’re rather swell. Porky thanks them as they leave, but confines to us that that kind of stuff is only going to appeal to the bobbysoxer crowd. (Porky, pal, I can see your socks. Don’t be ashamed of what you like.)

And now a man with two heads enters. Porky is sure this act is going to be awesome, but the man angrily states that he is only the janitor. I figured two heads meant there was two of you. I guess me and Porky are both guilty of facial profiling. That poor guy! He’s just like every tall person who has to tirelessly tell everyone that no, he doesn’t play basketball. When will we learn as a society that we need to ask what other people are into. Oh, and the fox still tries to jump the queue.

After a couple more acts, including a regular old human using the same pigeon act Daffy tried in “Show Biz Bugs“, Porky finally gets tired of the pushy fox, and sends him down the trapdoor. Just in time for a dog to enter. He’s not a dog act. He’s merely the transportation. (Porky? What did we just learn from Double Header‘s son?) The dog’s got a flea circus act! And by that, I mean the fleas build a circus. (And judging by the musical accompaniment, they commissioned the  Rubber Band to join.)

Finally, finally, it’s that foxes turn to perform. This better be nothing we’ve ever seen before, considering how much hype he gave it. The act in question? Ingesting several flammable substances, before swallowing a lit match while dressed as a devil. … Well, I suppose back in 1949, people wouldn’t have yet seen this ending in a different cartoon by Freleng’s unit. I’ll give it to him.

Favorite Part: The scowl Porky gives after Sara’s performance. He’s all “B*tch, don’t you be having no babies on my floors. I just got these carpets cleaned!”

Personal Rating: 3. It’s a shame the aforementioned “S.B.B.” did this sorta idea better, mainly by having established characters with an established rivalry front and center. If you were watching this short before 1957, then it was a 4.

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Porky’s Tire Trouble

“D-D-Don’t hurt that d-d-dog!”

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Norman McCabe; Music by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on February 18, 1939.

Starring Porky Pig! (Look at that doofy smile he gives at the beginning. I love this dope!) And yes, it is vital to remind us, as most of the focus will be taken by Porky’s dog of the picture: Flat Foot Flookey. (Don’t you just love names that are tongue twisters? Cause I don’t.) He’s a strange looking one, as dogs go. It’s like Clampett wanted his unit to get Pluto and Goofy for a cameo in one of his shorts, Disney obviously said “Screw off.” (with that charming smile of his), Clampett managed to get a D.N.A. sample off both of them, but accidentally put the two into the same cloning jar. So why do YOU think the dog is wearing shoes?

Porky is heading off to another workday at Snappy Rubber Co. (The scenery is  jumpy today), with the loyal Flat right behind. (I’d really rather not type his entire name out again.) Porky doesn’t notice until the dog enters the building.  Porky yanks him right back out because his boss has some asinine rule that makes no sense to me: No Dogs Allowed. I mean really, what if Porky needed to hug something warm and I wasn’t around? Are you willing to be there when your employee needs you most, boss?

Okay. Tone it back. I’m letting my fanboying take over again. Rules are still rules and Porky has to tie Foot to a car. (Look at the poor dog’s face! Why would Porky do this to him?) I guess it’s a good idea; his walrus boss is another Billy Bletcher role, so he probably can be a pretty nasty foe. But he does his job competently. He uses a machine to chew up rubber trees, and pour the pulp into the giant, novelty waffle irons that Porky mans. Turning out rather handsome tires. How are they considered trouble? Porky handles them like the champ he is.

Flookey (Wait… Lessee… ‘Flat’… ‘Foot’… Aw crap.) doesn’t heed the sign because he can’t read. He digs into the factory, dragging the car along I might add. I do so hope it was the boss’s. (I kinda want to dub him ‘Bletch’ but I’d rather make less references to “The Feebles” than Disney has. He’s not getting a name.) Porky directs his dog to the exit, but the pup steps into a barrel of rubberizing solution. His body absorbs the properties, essentially making him a superhero. Eat it Krypto and Underdog! Before you both existed there was Plastic Pooch!

With the power of rubber, Plastic Pooch does the most obvious thing: turn his face into caricatures! (His Edna Mae Oliver could use some improvements in the eyes, and his Hugh Herbert’s nose changes color. Or maybe it’s just a change of the light?) He can now take on his nemesis: Porky’s boss! He’s fully aware there’s a dog on the premises now, and he aims to eradicate him. (I can tell Mel is doing the shouting for him. That guy was born shouting.) But the dog is rubber, he’s not glue, Plastic Pooch will defeat you! If you grab a hold of him, he can stretch far enough to bite your rear! If you throw him away, he’ll just bounce back! He’s. Gonna. Rub. You. Out!

The boss learns all too well that he can’t rid himself of the Tuniverse’s newest hero. Plastic Pooch ends up knocking him into Porky’s tire press. And now we’ve just witnessed the supervillain origins of P.P.’s greatest nemesis: Snow Tire! Don’t miss the exciting next issue! Our villain continues to get thwarted, and he sure is tired of that! (Wait… “He’s not getting a name!”… Mm-hm… “Snow Tire!”… … Doh!)

Favorite Part: Porky is so chipper, that he even does a little dance on his way to work. Even more adorable is mild mannered Flat Foot copying him. (Oh yeah, Porky is the only one who knows Plastic Pooch’s secret identity.)

Personal Rating: 3.

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Porky’s Pet

“Tickets, tickets.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Cal Dalton and Sandy Walker; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on July 11, 1936.

*Sigh* I was really hoping some sort of Christmas miracle would bring back my lost work. I promise, that’s the last time it’ll be brought up. Now, let’s discuss the first short to have Porky’s name in the title.

Porky’s just received a telegram from someone named J. Botts. (Jo Botts?) We never see the person, but they’ve got a great offer for my pig pal: A job that’ll pay seventy-five cents a week in New York, so it must be Broadway related. But it’s not just Porky who’s going to be big, so will his titular pet, Lulu. He rushes to her cage to tell her the good news. How cute! She’s a canary, then? She’s an ostrich.

Now, I’ve always loved ostriches. Probably my first favorite animal before I moved on to yaks, then bats, then newts, then goblin sharks, then hermit crabs, then hamsters, before making pigs my final choice. So I know a fair amount about the largest extant birds. For example, I’ve never known one to speak in a strange garbledygork of insane laughter and English mumblings. And her size and appetite mean that she must be a heck of a hassle of a pet. But I see genuine love in her eyes for the Porkster, so I can’t and won’t interfere with the heartwarming bond between them. (Though I COULD give her a good home…)

Well, with the future calling, P. and L. traverse to the train station. Climbing aboard, it appears that Mr. Pig can’t take a trip with a pet in tow. (Dogs are allowed but not ostriches?) Well, Porky just tells Lu to run ahead of the train and he’ll sneak her on. (Why not just ride her? How far is your journey, anyhow?) She may look like a birdbrain, but she understands and the plan works great. Porky was able to pull her into the moving train by her neck. He is our new god.

But now comes the difficult part: keeping her hidden. She’s a big girl, and is quite noticeable. Lucky all the other passengers are willing to stay mum on the subject. Still, she’ll have to stay out of the conductor’s sight. Porky stuffs her under the seat with some difficulty, but she’s a wide-open spaces kind of bird! She doesn’t stay put and decides to put her special ostrich talent to good use. That’s her appetite. She roams around the area eating whatever catches her eye. Toupees, toy planes, musical instruments. She’d probably eat a baby if she came across one.

Crap! The conductor approacheth! In a panic, Porky hides Lulu into the only thing big enough he can get his mitts on: a cello case. (Why did someone bring an empty one along?) This hardly works before Lulu stands up, giving the conductor quite the ride and interesting story to tell later on. When she’s revealed, he doesn’t need to react with surprise or fright. He grabs her without so much as a flinch, and throws her out the window. Porky is next to go, though he gets the more dignified exit via the back door.

The two are still a long way from Broadway, but their ingenuity sees them through. Tying a nearby handcart to a nearby cow gives them a means of transportation that’s even faster than train! Bet the conductor feels embarrassed now!

Favorite Part: A small thing, but I like how the concertina Lulu swallows is labeled as such. So many people think they’re accordions, but here you’ll have no excuse for the mix-up. (Unless you can’t read.) Together, we can help raise awareness.

Personal Rating: 2. I think I preferred Donald Duck interacting with an ostrich. Hortense was way cuter, too.

(And yes, I know female ostriches don’t have black plumage. But since this isn’t “Fantasia” I can use the grayscale to my advantage and blissfully believe that Lulu is just a very dark shade of brown.)

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Notes to You

“Poor dear.”

Supervision by I. Freleng; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Manuel Perez; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 20, 1941.

And we bring the month of horror to a close with one more tie-in to the month’s post. What could be more thematically appropriate than a cat at night?

Ah yes, Night. Black as tar dipped in shadows. A time where the absence of light helps you realize how insignificant you really are. How vulnerable. You wouldn’t last three minutes against those who thrive in dark. Might as well sleep so you can manage to avoid the feelings of dread that will consume all empty space available in your mind. Helps that you’re probably exhausted to boot. It is at such a moment we find Porky. The best friend I’ve never personally met due to him being animated and I, not so much.

Murphy’s Law. Always lying in wait. Ready to pounce on the best laid plans of mice, men, salmon, and sea turtles. If you’ve got the gift of life, you’ve got an appointment with this phenomenon. All you have to do is anticipate. It will catch you when you stop. These two forces of nature intersect when an alley cat picks the fence bordering Porky’s domicile as the perfect location to partake in the only kind of wauling he partakes of: caterwauling.

Understandably, Porky is not pleased with the feline crooner. It’s around this time that you will take note (s to you) of that peculiar feeling we call deja vu. We’ve discussed a very similar plot over a decade prior.  So, even though this short was the original, you’re liable to see the more polished, colored reimagining first. It hurts me on a spiritual level to have to put Porky down, but the latter cartoon really does everything here, but better.

There’s a few differences. One that I like is when Porky sets out a dish of milk for the cat while he waits with his gun. It remembers that Porky’s patience isn’t the only thing getting exhausted. The cat (That I am now calling ‘Notes’ for obvious reasons.) is able to down the dairy delight without getting a bullet through the cranium. Of course, since cat’s are the natural world’s a-holes, he wakes Porky for no other reason than that it amuses him.

After lulling Porky back to sleep with a lullaby, and placing him back in his bed, he wastes as little as time as possible in turning on the radio, full blast. He leaves to keep in his spirit contained within his body, but doesn’t let up with the songs. Even entering the domicile again to make sure Porky’s ears catch the noise his larynx pitches. It’s hard to sympathize with Notes once he passes such a threshold. At least Sylvester would spend most of his picture’s running time out of Elmer’s place. Makes it easy to wonder why Elmer couldn’t just try ignoring the sound better, and since both are being jerks in their own unique ways, you don’t feel too bad when both end up dead in the end.

Oh! Don’t worry! Freleng and the Frelettes don’t go so far as to let Porky die. But rather than using a more cartoony version of killing, say, blowing a cat up with dynamite, Porky opts to just shoot the kitty. And don’t let Notes’s singing and hamming up his wound make you think he’s faking. Porky just shot a cat through the chest. Your sympathies probably won’t stay with him after such a stunt, regardless of how much you don’t care for cats. It’s pretty out of character for the guy, too. He doesn’t jump to murder as a solution for those who annoy him unless he was already hunting them.  At least Porky feels guilt for having to resort to such extreme measures, and from what I was taught before leaving religion behind, that should be enough of a punishment.

Murphy’s law, my friends. It returns with seven of Notes’s nine lives to continue the serenade with total immunity to guns now. (4 and 8 have gone to heaven and hell, respectively.) It’s an ending to be proud of as it stays on the singin’ sextuplets for over thirty seconds. (Gotta let them finish the song. Not like they’ve been singing throughout the rest of the picture.) And with that said, I’ve brought things full circle back to Porky-centric ghost stories. Will the cycle repeat the next time we meet? It wouldn’t be fun if I told you. Wait like the mortal you are. You’ll have a happy Halloween to keep you company.

Favorite Part: Porky is so sleepy that his head hits the pillow before he can lie down properly. It’s up to the rest of his body to get itself into slumber position. Cute; like a child insisting they are not tired and being betrayed by the eyes they thought were on their side.

Personal Rating: 2. The remake really was better in all ways. It kept the best jokes, gave the cat role to someone who had been building a screen presence, fixed the ending to be less horrific and more, you know, funny. It’s the superior product. If there wasn’t slight differences, you’d actually do fine to pretend this didn’t exist.

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Jeepers Creepers

“There’s somebody at the door.”

https://youtu.be/oQHHyrwqW-s?si=PLt3lhFGMSUThZZR

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by Vive Risto; Story by Ernest Gee; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 23, 1939.

October is that magical time of year where any mystery is believed to have a supernatural conclusion. To wit, mysterious sounds are being heard at an abandoned building and that means we have to get the police involved. ‘Pig’ might be a derogatory term for those in blue, but in this case, the kop is wearing black. He’ll solve this mystery, and he doesn’t need any “Porky Snacks” to boost his confidence.

The old house is really creepy. Lovely atmosphere shots help build the chills. It’s got bats, rattling shutters, wails and shrieks. That last thing can be explained by the radio inside. So someone is living here? Well, I wouldn’t use the L-word. If the tenet’s voice is any indication, I think this is taking place in the alternate print of “Lonesome Ghosts” in which Goofy didn’t make it out among the breathing.

This goofy ghost loves to scare because that’s just what ghosts do even if they don’t intend to. Whilst waiting for people to scare-ify, he likes to relax with a cigar. I’d tell him those are bad for the health, but I don’t think he has one. Besides, he bathes himself to get the stench out. No sense in scaring folks off before they even lay eyes on you. Officer Porky arrives on the scene, and the ghost lures him in. Here’s wishing you a sporting chance buddy, because my Porky worship tells me that he ain’t a scared of no ghosts.

The ghosts plan? He’s going to put some quacking frogs in shoes he’s tied together, to make it looks like they’re walking by themselves. Seems like a waste when you have a real ghost on the premises. (And are the frogs quacking so I can’t make any jokes about the ghost making them “croak”?) Porky doesn’t notice them, so they keep hopping forward because frogs like being crammed into shoes and would never try to hop out of the opening. The ghost opts to bang a serving platter over Porky’s head instead. (Sometimes we have to sacrifice originality for reliability.)

But the frogs come through for ghost boy, as they end up dragging a hat rack into a curtain, and making a decent specter of death in the process. I guess the pedestal I put Porky on must shatter, as he does indeed freak out upon seeing this thing. He wants out. The ghost decides now is the time to reveal himself and Porky is so petrified, he has to rip out the floorboard his feet refuse to move from. He bolts up the stairs, and unknowingly right into the arms of the ghost. Who has the audacity to mock him. (You made your point, dude. No need to be an a-hole.)

Time to leave! Legends say that ghosts won’t follow you out of the house they’re haunting, but those legends were started by lazy ghosts. This one has a work-ethic and is able to overtake Porky’s speeding car. Beware of hitchhiking ghosts! Porky isn’t one to pick up strangers though, and leaves the ghost with his exhaust. Which sadly means we end this fun Halloween treat with a blackface gag. (At least Rochester is a cool guy to reference? ???)

Favorite Part: The awful description the police chief gives for ghosts. “Those white things that go *evil laughter*.” He’s lucky Porky didn’t go arrest Dick Cheney.

Personal Rating: 3

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Boston Quackie

“Come on out before I let daylight through ya!”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story Tedd Pierce; Animation by George Grandpre, Ted Bonnickson, Keith Darling, and Russ Dyson; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Bob Majors; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on June 22, 1957.

The titular “Boston Quackie” is one of those detective types who is a “friend to those who need no friends” and an “enemy to those who have no enemies.” It’s the second time of three that McKimson would have Daffy play detective, but while the first short was pretty timeless by not parodying anything specifically, this one’s title alone will probably send a few later generations to the Google search bar. (Assuming the younger generations are willing to give these old films a chance and realize that they hold up beyond remarkably well. I’m doing what I can.)

At the moment, Quackie is having a Parisian vacation with his girlfriend, Mary, and a dog that can’t keep his mouth from disappearing. (He’s just the chaperone.) But work will have to come before pleasure as Quackie’s boss, Inspector Faraway, shows up. Don’t know why Mary isn’t pleased to see him show up. He’s the kind of boss I’d invite to go on trips with me. (Of course I still need a girlfriend. Why do you ask?) Quackie’s got a job to do: deliver a package to the consulate in West Slobovia. (And do say “Hi” to Judd Fudd if you see him. Heard he was looking for lepus in those parts.)

Sounds so simple that even a duckling could do it. But spies will be hunting that parcel and- actually, one’s got it already. Time to give chase! Target: male with green hat. I’ve already got a police sketch drawn up.

Careful! I hear he’s a merry man!

Quackie follows the thief to the train station, and onto the most threatening locomotive this side of “Cuphead”. If the shrieking whistle doesn’t make your pants wet themselves, the endless eyes watching from the compartments will make it so. But that’s why Quackie is a detective, and I’m an amateur animation historian. He gets on board. (Watch out for that blue guy! I bet he’s a ghoul.)

There’s the thief! He’s just ducked into one of the cabins. Quackie drills a hole and points his gun. Give up the case or make out with the bullets! Your choice! And yet, despite those very reasonable choices, he chooses to pun the gun inside and shoot Quackie! Cheater! Oh wait. We got the wrong guy. This one is clearly wearing a top hat. And it’s not green.  A customary tip of the hat and this guy is one his w-GREEN!  I saw green on that head! Get him, Quackie! Be a hero!

Well, we can’t be quite sure who this mysterious man is, but he is willing to have Quackie join him for a drink. Rookie error! Reveal that hat, Quackie! And… he’s got a number of any hat BUT green under that top one. Well played, Barty Clubbin. Drink time! And I wanna break character to say how on top of things Daffy is during this scene. Shoots the guy poisoning his tea without looking and dumping the deadly drink into the nearest spittoon. (Even makes Barty flinch.) Still, he manages to subdue the detective with the ‘how many lumps do you want’ gag.

Now we’re sure this is our man! Chase time! It’s brief, but Quackie is outfoxed, stuffed in a mail sack, and left hanging on the nearest mail hook. Barty could get away right here, but he didn’t see the railway crossing, and is knocked off himself. Just in time for Farway and Mary to arrive, the latter knocking the thief out for good with her anvil-laden purse. Time to get that package where it belongs. Upon delivery, Quackie is aghast to find that he has just participated in an instant coffee run. But the consulate reveals it’s better than that: it’s a jar of instant woman! (Err… was that water he added?) He needed an escort, and Quackie delivered. The duck figures their could be a market for this stuff, but I’m not sure humanity is ready for it. I still remember the instant hole fiasco.

Favorite Part: When Quackie is checking the compartments, he finds a man about to be stabbed. It’s also said victim who pulls the privacy shade down.

Personal Rating: 3. I’ve never really heard of “Boston Blackie” before today, but I managed to make it through without scratching my head.