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Life with Feathers

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 24, 1945.

Some sort of domestic squabble is going on in a birdcage, and I’m proven right by one of the occupants being evicted. He tells us that he is a lovebird, that was his wife who hates his guts now, and as his name suggests, he needs love to live. No point in suffering. He begins brainstorming some ideas about how to off himself. I’m sure some people would think he’s overreacting, but I think it’s kinda sweet that he is dedicated to the one he loves if she wasn’t. If I ever lost a girlfriend, I’m sure I wouldn’t find life too enjoyable anymore, either.  Me and him should be drinking buddies.

Fate decides his death for him with a cat who looks like he’s in the mood for a snack, seeing as he’s picking through the trash. This cat is Sylvester making his first appearance. And he rushes over once the bird gets his attention. He stops short because this seems too good to be true. He deduces that the bird is poisoned and just wants one less cat in the world. Because that’s what poisonous creatures want right? No point in living if you can’t ever be hugged. (On another note, pay attention to the speck of background between Mr. Lovebird’s wing and head. It’s also depressed as it turns blue.)

Sylvester’s owner calls him back for some milk. Wait, why was he picking through the trash if someone feeds him? (On another note, if you watch his face closely, you’ll see it has more white than usual as he zips into frame.) He spits out every drop once he finds out who was at the bottom of the bowl. Since Sylvester is paranoid and Mr. Lovebird isn’t going to explain why he’s come to the worst life choice possible, he has no choice but to order a mallet, smack the cat, then enter his mouth whilst he shouts.

Sylvester smokes a pipe to get him back out. (Hey, if you want to die so much, why don’t you just inhale that smoke that’s being inhaled. That secondhand stuff is deadly.) He traps Mr. L in a glass jug, and proceeds to open some cat food. (Does he normally feed himself? He’s really well trained!) Whilst his head is turned, a very familiar looking feather drops into the bowl. Not daring to not look behind him, Sylvester doesn’t notice until it’s sticking out of his mouth. His worst fears are confirmed upon checking on the jug. He ate the dirty birdty!

Mr. L is okay though. This is all part of his master scheme: give Sylvester some pills, and hop on the spoon himself before it goes past the gums. Sylvester catches on. The bird decides to play fowl. He turns the radio to some sort of program that does nothing but ask if you’d like to eat this’nthat or so’nso. (Or it’s an ad.) To make things harder, Mr. L also shows plenty of pictures of delicious looking meals. The torture is working. (Do those fish have hair on them?) Sylvester soon gives in figuring if doesn’t kill him, spending the rest of his life starving will. I’d say that adds up. Just before the deed is done, a telegram is delivered to the bird.

Whatever it said, it worked like a charm. Mr. L tells Sylvester that things will be all right back at home, so he doesn’t have to eat him. (On another note, his beak turns blue because it’s still depressed.) Too bad his treatment worked so well! Sylvester is still hungry and this bird on his had is worth two in any bush. The lovebird just barely manages to escape with his life. (Now, aren’t you ashamed you took it for granted?) So what was on that note, anyway? Has the Mrs. forgiven you for whatever she did? Better than that! She’s going to go live with her mother. Oh, Mr. Lovebird. Here I thought you were a decent sort when you were in a right state of mind.

Well, you know what fickle creatures lovebirds are. Sweetiepuss changed her mind last minute, and Mr. L resumes his Sylvester chase. Since the little guy never made another appearance, I think he succeeded.

Favorite Part: One of the ways Mr. L tries to get Sylvester to eat is by dressing as Santa. His pathetic “Merry Christmas” is music to my ears.

Personal Rating: 3. A fine way to start a new character off. Good enough to be nominated for the Oscar too! But since it was the forties, you already know it lost to a Tom and Jerry.

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Joe Glow the Firefly

“ZZZzzz-ZZZzzz”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Philip Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on March 8, 1941.

Let’s say I asked four different people to draw up a firefly for a piece of media and these were the results:

Which one would get the highest scoring grade?

That’s right, none of them. For you see, I didn’t say “firefly” like a beetle from the Lampyridae family, I said “firefly.” You know, an insect version of a fireman. That’s what I’m choosing was going through Chuck and co.’s heads when designing the title character. That way, I can say that for once in my life, someone made one of these animals actually look remotely accurate to real life.

In these early, pre-Smokey Bear days, the job of keeping aware of potential threats to the forest fell to the smaller animals. Rather, that’s what I think Mr. Glow is doing here. His motivation isn’t really explained. He just enters a tent and explores therein. He doesn’t want to disturb the camper though, so he’s being extra quiet. We’re “light” on laugh-out-loud moments as this is short is in the vein of Chuck’s Sniffles’s pictures: tiny creature exploring the larger world. Hi-jinks ensue.

The man Joe lands on (awkward cut!) is indeed asleep, so that means Joe can make the rest of his rounds in peace. Relative peace, anyway, for this man snores. What’s a minor nuisance at best to fellow humans, becomes a mixture of wind tunnels and earthquakes to those at Joe’s scale. Shaken, he lands on the chest area. Things are a little more stable there. Making his way to the closest finger, he stops to make sure the wrist watch is set correctly. (Lovely shot from inside the timepiece.) Joe then sees another thing he’d better check out: a flashlight. That could possibly cause a fire! It’s had a troubled past!

Nope. Checks out. It’s in perfect working condition, too. The man briefly awakes at the brightness, but Joe is quick to turn it off, taking cover in the dark. Camper goes back to sleeping, and Joe decides to keep on. Even though the man isn’t a light sleeper, he is a sound sleeper, as Joe walking across a cracker doesn’t even make him stir. Better see how the rest of the food is doing. Looks like all the salt is still here, there, and entirely coating Joe. At least now he knows not to open the container that way.

Where there’s salt, there’s pepper. Joe checks that too. And he sneezes of course. Got a hefty set of lungs for an animal that doesn’t possess any. It rockets him out of the shaker, and into a catsup bottle that is now teetering on the edge of the table. But Joe earned that hat he wears. He knows just what to do in situations like this. He grabs some string (which looks kind of out of place, doesn’t it?) and is able to lasso it, and safely lower it to the ground. I’d say everything seems to be on the up and up. His work done, Joe flies out.

It’s then that he remembers the most important part of the inspection. Flying back he wishes the man “goodnight”. Making sure to shout it directly into his eardrum of course. It’s the only way to be heard at that size.

Favorite Part: When Joe is flying away at the table, the background artists remembered to show the spilled salt. I love when details aren’t forgotten like that.

Personal Rating: You know, I could see many casual viewers thinking this short is boring. It’s not. It’s charming. Still, for those who aren’t mature enough for this one, they can see it as a 2. Me though, I think us true fans can give it the 3 it deserves. This is a beautiful picture! The grayscale world really illustrates that the camper is miles away from civilization and its overabundance of light. Things are dark here, and the only source of light is Joe’s lantern. You just wouldn’t be able to sell the idea as well with technicolor. In fact, I’m giving it a 4 for me. Maybe you can do the same.

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The Bird came C.O.D.

“Mm-nh.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 17, 1942.

Conrad! Hey, buddy! Haven’t discussed you for since the twenty-tens. Did you ever get more of a personality than Goofy wannabe? No? I’m sorry. You’ll always have a trio of posts talking about you eventually.

Conrad is playing delivery cat today. His company specializes in delivery of palms. Slogan is, “You grease ours, you’ll get yours.” (Clearly, I should have been writing for these pictures.) Being Conrad’s first film, he makes sure to look directly into the camera. Just to make sure that Mr. Jones know how grateful he is for this opportunity, and he could be the new breakout character for Chuck should Sniffles ever… you know… disappear. Just look at those exaggerated cartoon movements! He’s the ideal star!

His first problem is just trying to get the plant into the theater awaiting the delivery. It really does feel like a “Goofy” cartoon what with the tree getting caught on the door frame and flinging Conrad backwards, and the door shutting on its own when he thinks he found a solution by squat walking inside. No wonder Mr. Colvig would be voicing him. It was clearly always meant to be. Conrad finally figures out the secret: hold the door open with the delivery. Please, enter.

…AND BRING THE PLANT, STUPID! Geeze, hope you’re not expecting a tip after that. Now inside, all Conrad has to do is not trip and get it to its proper location. After he trips, he gets it to its proper location. Not even a scratch! Maybe he does know what he’s doing. He finds the old plant, switches it with the new, and is all set to go on his way, when he sees a top hat that has been left on the stage. That can only mean a magician has performed, and Conrad has always secretly been envious of those guys. He can’t resist having a little fun and pretending to be what he is not. (Without talking. He has no dialogue outside of nervous chuckles and exclamatory grunts.)

Wouldn’t you know it? First try and he pulls out a live rabbit. Even he wasn’t expecting to be that good. His reaction puzzles me. He looks less amazed and more nauseous. Does it smell that bad? Then it should have been a skunk. I bet Chuck could get a lot of mileage out of those. But what’s really worrisome is the other occupant of the hat. The title star finally shows, more than halfway in. Some early ancestor of Henery Hawk it looks like. But I guess he’s a dove? What magician uses hawks in his act? A fun-king awesome one, that’s who.

The little guy doesn’t seem too pleased to see some amateur messing with the hat, but he doesn’t do more than give Conrad a glare. Not even an angry glare, just a “do you mind?” kind of glare. And I get it. I hate when delivery boys bring me a package and then start looking in my drawers. But Conrad feels like he’s been the one wronged, and knocks the bird back out of the hat. Again, Little Birdy just kind of gives a look. A “this is getting old” look. He only slaps Conrad when the cat tries taking a closer peek inside that hat.

Angered, Conrad smashes the hat. Little Birdy is unharmed, but gives the peeking tom (cat) a poke in the eye. Come on, Conrad. It’s not worth it! He agrees, but decides to throw that hat rather than just leave. It comes back to hit him, and L.B. punches his nose now. Conrad should consider himself lucky, considering what silent birds usually do to cats, but he refuses to be three-upped and makes another attempt to get the bird. He’s caught in the act, and Little marches him back into the orchestra pit. I bet a lot of good slapstick is happening. You can tell by the number of instruments flying.

Now sporting a pair of black eyes, Conrad finally gets the hint that he should cut his losses before the bird cuts him. He takes the old plant and tries to flee, but runs straight into the theater’s brick storage room. (I love those rooms.) Dazed and disoriented, he next stumbles into wardrobe where he finds six more top hats. Surely you figured Mr. Birdy wasn’t the only one in the clutch, right? Too bad they don’t do more than pull Conrad’s hat over his face. Passive aggressiveness runs in the family.

Favorite Part: Conrad leaving the plant outside was a good gag made better by the triumphant music petering out.

Personal Rating: 2. I can’t relate to the main character because I think L.B. was totally justified in his threats. He deserves being the title character. (If only he showed up sooner.)

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Bosko’s Mechanical Man

“Oh, suh-wish.”

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Thomas McKimson. A Looney Tune released on September 27, 1933.

It’s the final Harmon/Ising film with this studio, which means it’s also the last Bosko short with them. Coming out just a few months after a certain mouse’s “…Mechanical Man”, it feels original enough due to robots not being exclusive to Disney. (Just Blue Sky, who wasn’t around yet.)

Honey does some window washing, giving Bosko an opportunity to trace “I love you” in the water. (From the wrong side mind you. Oops.) He even picks the flowers in front of her house as a gift. Usually in cartoons, that’s what the villain trying to marry for money does. (I was hoping Honey would thank him and plant them right back.) Honey is very happy to see the kid, as he can help her wash some dishes. Bosko laughs at the very idea. I mean him? Doing a woman’s work? Let’s all laugh as the scene fades.

Fade in to see Bosko helping out like a good boy. (Love his sour face.) Of course, being a man means he’s going to eventually do something dumb to catch his crush’s attention. In this case, carrying too many plates at once and heading outside. Honey angrily stomps outside once she hears the crash and glares at him. Just glares. But she’s disappointed and that’s really the worst punishment. She’s not going to forgive this one easily.

Bosko catches sight of the daily paper which is kinda light on the “news”. The top story is just the technocrats of the world proclaiming that robots will one day be doing most of our work. (It’s like that time I made the front page predicting that everyone older than me was likely to die before I did.) It doesn’t matter if I think it’s a waste of ink and trees, Bosko’s got an idea. And he doesn’t even need any sort of engineering degree to put it together. Just a some irons here, a stove there…

Honey demands he get back inside which is confusing. Wouldn’t she want him as far away from her china as possible? Like in China? But Bosko is sure about about this. His positivity is instantly challenged when Bosko Jr. is brought to life. It’s got no reason to be, but angry and murderous it is. It runs amok and you’d be smart to lock your doors, but only if you lived in Fort Knox. It can break down doors. Piano music can calm it, but only if you keep playing. And why would Bosko do that if his life depended on it? He’s got no future at Warners.

Honey to the rescue! She realizes that what this robot needed all along was a phonograph in its butt. Why are you making that face? Do you need to read the sentence again? She realizes that what this robot needed all along was a phonograph in its butt. Happy? He sings along to the record, but it has a crack and he skips a lot. He’s not placated and chases the two out of the house. They pass the sleeping Bruno (Who’s just been outside the whole time. Guess they just wanted to show him one last time, too.) but the robot stops to shock the dog awake letting the doorbell wiring go through his body. And he has pupils now. (And your eyes would dilate too if you had what he had crammed up there.)

The three are chased, but Bosko is able to keep his loved ones safe by hurling some dynamite down his creation’s throat. The robot is dead which is a shame since he wasn’t really alive at any point. And I’m still wondering why he was motivated to act like he did. Did Bosko program him to feel pain? I figure having a stove potbelly does give you eternal heartburn.

Favorite Part: A small thing, (as most of my favorite parts are) but I love the robot’s grinding teeth being the teeth of gears that are grinding. Clever.

Personal Rating: 2. Not a horrible film to end on. (Hint. Develop some new characters at MGM, guys. I’m begging ya 91 years late!)

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Toy Town Hall

“Yowza, so help me.”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Bob McKimson and Sandy Walker; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. (One of if not the first to have him.) A Merrie Melody released on September 19, 1936.

We’ve all been in this situation as a kid: you’re just about to start something. Maybe the TV show airing next. Maybe another movie. Maybe your 26th round of Super Smash Bros. Whatever it is, you dread hearing those words. The words no kid wants to hear when they’re enjoying themselves: “It’s time for bed.” You beg and plead and whine that you can’t do that just yet! Your friends don’t suffer such injustices! You’ll do anything in the word to just do this one last thing! But your pleas fall on deaf ears.

So, I feel for little Sunny when his mom-arms turn off the radio before he can hear the next program, even if I’ve never been in the exact same scenario. (I wish we could see more of his matriarch. I know you should never judge a lady by her arms, but I bet she’s attractive.) Well, upset as he is, the kid still goes to bed, reluctantly. He’s got a nice collection of toys. What do you think they’d do if they were alive?

They’d imitate the biggest radio stars of the day! Fred Allen, Eddie Cantor, Rudy Vallee… What do you mean cartoons were always doing that? You want something new? Pah! Just for that, this cartoon is going to feature almost nothing except reused animation from previous Melodies! Remember, you brought this on yourself. Let’s meet our opening act! Quick cut to the same elephant lights operator from “Those Beautiful Dames” and we’ve got a lovely song performed by a Bing Crosby parrot. (Not quite a recycled shot, but he IS singing a song a different Crosby inspired bird sang in/called “Let it be Me”.)

Next up, the Eddie Cantor toy. Now with a completely different body, so we can reuse his song sequence from “Billboard Frolics“. (Rub-em-off will not be joining this time.) At least as far as I can tell, the Rudy Vallee toy isn’t being reused. He still has a different body too, though. Unless Sunny has two Rudys? Nothing wrong with that.

Oh, this next cameo is a fun one! The cockroaches from “The Lady in Red”. Sure, there is the tiniest difference in color, but that just means Sunny has toy roaches. What kid has toy roaches in the 30’s? And when did that package on Sunny’s bed appear? It wasn’t there before. But what’s inside has been on screen before! Peter the rabbit from “My Green Fedora”! He’s a toy now! Singing the same song he sang back then, and reacting to his audience likewise. All the toys dance as we return to reality. It was a dream, like in “Dames” but Sunny isn’t halluci-dying.

His mom wakes him up for the day, and I guess he’s angry that his dream was interrupted. The end.

Favorite Part: One of the toys is a balloon with feet. (Did you have one of those growing up?) After he inflates himself, he plays a flute with the air. But his mouth is down there, so that can only be one other orifice he’s playing with… Yep, his nose.

Personal Rating: 1 if you could tell everything was rehashed. If you were ignorant before, it could’ve been a 2 with a really lousy ending.

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A Hick a Slick and a Chick

“No time like the present.”

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by J.C. Melendez, Don Williams, Emery Hawkins, and Basil Davidovich; Story by Lloyd Turner and William Scott; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 27, 1948.

This post would not have been possible without contributions from readers like Carl Hunt. Thank You.

Elmo Mouse will be our titular “hick” this evening. He’s in a good mood as he’s off to visit the resident chick, Daisy Lou. Upon arriving at her place, he thinks he’s made a mistake of addresses as the doe inside is busy making out with someone who isn’t Elmo. Sadly, he’s at the right house. Her make out partner was the third part of our puzzle, Blackie the prick. The two at least have the decency to take a breath now that they’ve got company, and to be fair D.L. is polite enough to let both guys stay. Oh, yeah. I meant “slick” earlier. Honest mistake.

Elmo has some (mouse-scale) flowers and Daisy does seem happy to receive them, even if Blackie already bought out a florist shop for her. Elmo’s flowers are so embarrassed, they regress back into seeds. Elmo tries to play her a song on his mouth organ, but Blackie can play piano. Particularly, a familiar piano piece that leads me to believe Blackie’s father was the mouse in “Rhapsody Rabbit“. About the only other good trait Elmo has is muscles and to his credit, I agree that Blackie could not make his arm go limp like that. His biceps look too healthy. Feel healthy too, seeing as they knock Elmo out of the house.

When Elmo returns, he finds Uncle Blackie (as I think I’m allowed to call him) presenting Ms. Lou with a fur coat. Elmo isn’t impressed like she is, claiming that he could get her something better. As Uncle B. points out, the only thing that feasibly could be better is ermine. Elmo agrees but it’s only once he’s out of the hole that he reveals he’s dug himself into another; he doesn’t know what an ermine even is.

Searching the premises, he looks in a bottle of champagne which really doesn’t help much. What it does do is remove his common sense. Most creatures his size would try to avoid creatures like the dozing cat in the house, but he’s actually approaching. It might have something to do with the fact that the cat’s name is Merman, but he can only see the last five-sixth’s of the word. And yes, the cat’s name probably really is ‘Herman’ but it doesn’t look like it at first glance! (Does this mean Blackie’s real first name is ‘Katnip’? No wonder he changed it.)

The cat isn’t fazed by the punch drunk rodent, and tries to eat him. Elmo escapes and falls into the milk bowl, which is good news since milk is nature’s natural sobering agent. He flees, and the cat chases, taking a swing at him as he runs on a table. This makes the leaf smack him in the face, knocking himself out but good. Well, well. Just look at all that fur just practically begging to be taken! Good thing Elmo’s a furrier! He presents the goods to Daisy and he totally wins. She’s got no problem being a trophy, because she gets things out of it. What a good moral.

Hick and Chick leave together, leaving the Slick to wonder where he managed to get the stuff. The cat tells him to mind his own business, showing us Elmo used his @$$ hair to make the coat. (Why to the you to the sea and kay.) Even the iris-out is coat shaped. And when you get pancakes tomorrow, they’ll probably be coat shaped too.

Favorite Part: Jealousy running rampant in Elmo’s mind, he imagines certain instances of bad luck Blackie could befall. Like Elmo mounting his head over a fireplace.

Personal Rating: 3

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I Gopher you

“I think we should proceed together.”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Ken Champin, Virgil Ross, Arthur Davis, and Manuel Perez; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Merrie Melody released on January 30, 1954.

Mac and Tosh, living under farmland, are set to harvest THEIR vegetables. (I love that.) But before they can even take a pea, “vandals” grab everything. The gophers are polite but firm, and decide after their eyes are done merging together that they must find who’s responsible. Poking up topside, they see many Ajax trucks carting the produce off to driver’s know where. The rodents follow in hot pursuit.

This leads them to the Ajax canning factory. Acme just never got into the food biz. (Their food would probably just blow up anyway.) The two are actually fairly enamored with this place. The machines just dispense out food into containers. Handy, and somewhat dandy. Mac has to try that out, and hops onto the tomato juice belt. He fills his belly without the tedious chore of chewing, and gets bottle capped for his troubles.

Tosh pries it off and they continue to search for their dinner. The lip sync is bad. Tosh speaks before his mouth starts moving, and Mac gets his one word line in before the first mouth is finished. (I call it Dingophers Pictures.) Tosh climbs aboard the next belt in order to toss some whole tomatoes down to his partner, but isn’t fast enough to do it more than once before he is canned. Mac finds the storage room where they are stored, but only knows Tosh is in one of them. Better get started…

When he does locate the other, they agree to be more careful as they search. Although Mac is the one we follow into the next shot, he becomes Tosh. And you know what? I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that was intentional. The crew knew the two were impossible to discern, so they probably meant to mess with us. In which case, it’s brilliant. I wish I had proof. Tac or Mosh or whichever one it is falls into a barrel of pickle brine. Even though it shouldn’t work that way, he ends up pickled as much as the cucumbers. Time to stumble!

Rated P.G. for pickled gopher ends up in the dehydration machine. He comes out as a dinner for six that only requires water to eat. Gopher 2 provides the stuff, and he finds the one that is definitely Mac now once again. Even better, they realize they can easily carry the food back home this way. Back at the ranch, they prepare to eat a meal. (Lip sync is off again.) Tosh goes to get the liquid, but doesn’t account for how much force it will spray with. Within seconds, mountains of produce erupt from the earth. What a healthy apocalypse!

Favorite Part: Mac asking why Tosh got himself stuck in the last can he checked. Tosh tells him it WAS the first, and he shouldn’t have done it in reverse.

Personal Rating: 3 (If I used decimal points though, I’d probably give it a 2.5 for the poor dubbing. I hope it was just a mistake on the copy I viewed.)

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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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Bingo Crosbyana

“You ain’t seen nothin’, yet.”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Cal Dalton and Sandy Walker; Music by Norman Spencer. A Merrie Melody released on May 30, 1936.

Who just leaves a perfectly edible plate of spaghetti all alone in a kitchen? A friend of the flies, that’s who. They like this meal because teeth aren’t required to eat it. Two flies each slurp one end of a noodle, but since Disney hasn’t yet made something to parody, they just clonk their heads together. This really is a fly paradise. Sure, it could use a little rotting flesh and festering feces for the maggots, but these are yuppie flies. They’re still courting.

And the one that all guy-flies want to be and she-flies want to have is Bingo. He’s got a nice hat, a smooth Crosby voice and is a master at the one-stringed guitar. Such a happy gentleman, that you could even call a gay caballero. (Wow. Freleng beat Disney to the punch twice? If only Friz had made a theme park increase awareness. Isadore Isles… Freleng Fjords… I can see it now!) A fun song is sung, where Bingo continues to make the girls fawn, and one of the chorus singers has a brief hair dying.

But Bingo isn’t just artistic! He’s one of those animals that is such a master at what they do that humankind decided they could just be named after a verb. Like the skate and the leech. But even by fly standards can this guy fly. He’s fast, he’s agile and he can steal the buttons off your Mickey Mouse style pants. (Finally! Something that could be considered a reference at the time.) Fact is, Bingo is so talented that girls all immediately break up with the guys they promised they would always be faithful to and love forever. Bingo is just that awesome.

But he is also pretty low on the food chain. Mantids, toads, even some plants would all consider him a tasty snack. But the biggest threat (relatively speaking) is your common house spider. The kind with a Billy Bletcher laugh and only six limbs. (I’d make a fuss, but he still has more limbs than the flies so… sure.) Bingo flees, bur really, what is he supposed to do? Throw up in the predator’s face? His kind evolved their amazing aerobatic prowess to avoid danger, not challenge it. So I’m not upset he left the ladies to die.

What is deplorable is him pushing all the girls out of the roll of wax paper they’re hiding in to save himself. That’s a genuine dick move. Doesn’t help much anyway, as the spider saw him enter and tries following. If he wasn’t so big, that spider would be enjoying a Bingoburger right now. But he’s stuck, and that gives the previously rejected guy-flies a chance to prove that they’re worthy as potential mates. What does strength and talent matter when you’ve got courage and heart? The spider is corkscrewed, cork popped and cork electric socketed without the cork.

And after all that, the spider falls onto a sheet of flypaper. Oh, the irony? Yes, the irony. Now that the immediate threat is taken care of, Bingo reappears on the scene, playing cool once again. Now aware of what kind of fly he is, the others fling him into a coffee. Try flying now!

Now, if it weren’t for the voice and name, you’d never guess Bingo was actually a parody of Bing Crosby. (I know, right?) It’s worth bringing up though because the real Crosby’s attorneys weren’t very happy about this cartoon. They demanded that Warners cease distributing/exhibiting the film immediately. They also felt the need to let people know that the real Bing was NOT providing the voice and it was a poor representation of the guy. This fly was a “vainglorious coward.” (But really, I would be too if I was a fly.)

Favorite Part: While flying (read: showing off) Bingo sky-writes  ‘How’m I doin’. Totally in character, and just cheeky enough to be worth a smile.

Personal Rating: 2. It might have been funnier if the fly even barely resembled Bing.

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Hop, Skip and a Chump

“Expectoration’s essential, you know.”

Supervision by I. Freleng; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Cal Dalton. A Merrie Melody released on January 3, 1942.

This short’s off to a bumpy start, as the camera decides to follow a grasshopper. Try not to get motion sickness until he decides to stand still. He looks only slightly more like an Orthopteran than Jimminy did, what with the antennae. Hopalong Casserole’s his name, and just like his title suggests, he’d make a tasty dish. Two birds have been trying to catch him for years, he says. They better be modeled after a great comedy duo for me to believe they can’t catch one grasshopper.

Two little blackbirds, watching what they will. One’s not named “Jack” the other’s not “Jill”. They don’t actually have given names, but that’s what I’m here for. From now on, the pudgy one can be Bolivar, and his buddy can be Dan. Bolivar gives Dan instructions. Take a club, and hit the insect when he comes by. Let’s skip to the good stuff… and Bolivar is bonked. Classic. Not learning from this, Bolivar next sends Dan out with a sack to secure their supper. (Hopalong is definitely comprised of two servings.) He brings back a bee. Since they’re not bee-eaters, they duck into the nearby pond. (Despite not being ducks either.)

The main problem with catching Hopalong is that they can’t keep up with him. Their wings are just for show. Bolivar has a great idea: bed springs! With these on, he can match the pace of his prey! And he does, but he’s on Hopalong’s left side. There’s a great many low-hanging branches on that side. Worse yet, the two nearly go over a cliff. Instead, only one does. Just kidding! Two indeed go over once Dan asks which way his partner went. Which I know to this day doesn’t mean it’s serious, but screw you, the two are married. (Not sure which one is the better half.)

Hopalong decides to hide in a discarded clock. Does it only count as a cuckoo clock if there’s a cuckoo? Either way, this odd clock won’t chime on the hour every hour. It’s gotta be one of the fours. Or 4:00/16:00 if you insist on that confusing military time. (I don’t. I insist you don’t.) Bolivar totally botches his chance, so he has to roll the hands to the next hour they’ll chime: eleven. (No wonder this clock was thrown away.) He doesn’t mess up this time, he just forgot that grasshoppers with hammers tend to use them.

The cartoon’s ending, but Hopalong manages to leap through the iris-out. Shaken, but safe, he boasts once more about how he always escapes. Since the fourth wall will not protect him, Bolivar is able to snatch him back behind the black for more.

Favorite Part: Bolivar and Dan are hiding in a piano, but Hopalong plays the key to deafen/pound the two with mallets. There’s a nice touch in that he plays “The Storm”, the piece Oliver Owl once took credit for performing. Things are just done in reverse this time with the performer using it to mess with the inner animals.

Personal Rating: 2