Tuesday, November 22, 2016

The Top Ten Animated Cartoons (5-1)

If you missed part one of this animated short retrospective, you can follow the hyperlink once you're done feeling the prerequisite shame and remorse that you deserve. Everyone else, enjoy your superiority while it lasts. Let's jump into the Chuck Jones dominated top five.

5. One Froggy Evening (1955, Chuck Jones)

A guy with a mustache happens upon a frog with the unique gift of a well trained baritone voice. Mustache immediately sees dollar signs but finds the frog is unwilling to perform for anyone but him. Despite his best efforts to show off his discovery free lance, Mustache winds up broken and penniless, at which point he returns the frog to its place of origin and vanishes without a word. Skip ahead to the future where another man happens upon the frog in nearly identical circumstances and gives the audience an ironic smirk, as we know what's about to happen all over again.

Why is it on the list?

Okay, let me preface this with: I have never felt an attachment to this cartoon. As a child I liked the music, and the story engaged me enough, but the only emotional takeaway I had was the frustration of "Get the frigging curtain open". Viewing it as an adult, I have to admit Michael Maltese wrote an amazingly concise story that could never have been told through a medium better than an animated cartoon. All the elements work exactly the way Jones and Maltese meant for them to. I shun the word 'perfection' because it always motivates me to find and/or create a flaw in the work, but I can accept this short has an unshakable artistic integrity.

The thing is, I just don't like it. It's a flavor I find myself reacting against. One Froggy Evening is so intentionally heartless that I find it chipping away at my already fragile mood the more I think about it. And it's not to say that I would change one thing about it, or suggest that the Jones unit should have dished out another Road Runner cartoon instead. There is a place, and need, for cynicism in every art form. Human nature is inherently self-centered, and it's healthy to have a slap in the face reminder of that once in a while. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.

What would I choose instead?

I wouldn't, in good conscience. Despite my personal feelings, this cartoon earns its top 5 spot. But I really need something funny and light to cleanse the palette, and for that I turn to 1952's Hic-cup Pup, courtesy of the Hanna-Barbera duo for MGM.

Tom and Jerry cartoons aren't exactly non-formulaic; if you've seen one, you pretty much get it. But each short typically has that one element to distinguish it from the rest of the library. In this case it's one of the most effective uses of Spike the bulldog. In terms of brute power the cartoon hierarchy goes mouse<cat<dog, and ordinarily you'd expect the dog to be the biggest bully of the bunch. But this short quickly establishes Spike as a loving father concerned about the well-being of his son, as such he's the only character with unselfish motivations and our sympathies are meant to lie with him.

Then the cat and mouse show up causing their characteristic ruckus, which inevitably wakes up the puppy giving him a case of the hiccups. Tom in full Wile E. Coyote plus vindictiveness mode; no need to even explain why he and the mouse are on disagreeable terms. Jerry is usually relegated to 'hero' status but here he's such a smug son of a bitch you really wouldn't mind seeing him pounded. This cartoon is an absolute delight. Everything about it (from the progression of the tension to the facial expressions) registers on the smile-to-laugh spectrum; and the resolution is gratifying. Jerry escapes with his health in the end, but it's technically a victory for Tom, which is always a nice touch.

4. Duck Dodgers in the 24 1/2 Century (1953, Chuck Jones)

This is obviously a parody of Buck Rogers, a 1928 pulp magazine serial turned radio show, film, multiple television series and World's Fair attraction (none of which really mean anything now apart from name recognition). But you don't really need to know that to watch the cartoon, as the tropes on display wind up in pretty much every space opera in existence. Daffy is the theoretical hero sent to recover the MacGuffin in the only place it exists, but has to compete in a global land war with the ruthless, but more competent, Marvin the Martian. After losing over and over, Daffy finally achieves an epic pyrrhic victory, and possibly dies in space if you think too hard about it.

Why is it on the list?

*sigh* I have no idea. Some people really like it I guess? I mean there's not anything wrong with it, but aside from the creation of Daffy's newest persona there's nothing about it that stands out to me either. I certainly don't think it's top 10 cartoon material even if you limit it to Loony Tunes shorts alone. Hell, just in the Daffy/Porky pairings under Chuck Jones I think both Robin Hood Daffy and Drip-Along Daffy are substantially better.  So I don't know why people single this one out so much. The survey was done in 1994, and there may have been a prevalent Cold War feeling left over which the short inadvertently ties into, but it has neither the punch of Dr. Seuss's The Butter Battle Book nor the fun factor of Mad Magazine's Spy vs. Spy.

What would I choose instead?

I don't remember how clear I was in the first blog, but my alternative suggestions are not necessarily my nominations for the top ten cartoons. Each one is merely a similar-ish cartoon to the one that has already been selected which I feel is worth a mention for one reason or another. Not too many space-themed shorts come to mind, so instead I'm going to focus on a cartoon that I feel handles the genre spoof element much more effectively. That would be 1952's Disney short How to be a Detective starring Goofy.

The title insists it's part of the 'How-to' series, but it's really its own isolated entity. Goofy plays a private eye hired by a dame in a wedding dress to "find Al" (sadly, a few decades too early to refer to Mr. Yankovic). Disney is known for being more family friendly than Tex "get crap past the radar" Avery, but holy shit! In the first twenty seconds there's a suicide, someone trying to drop someone else off a building ledge, and one character murdering another character with a hangman's noose (both of whom look like Goofy). Disney's not screwing around here. From there, the story proper takes off and a LOT happens in six minutes, including a drugging, and attempted drowning, and a pretty damn impressive car chase. The short hits all the major tropes of the detective noir and features a 'Who's Who' ensemble of classic voice actors (Pinto Colvig, Billy Bletcher, and June Foray). As an added bonus, Goofy demonstrates he's a relatively competent P.I. While he's never technically on the right track he always has an intuitive sense of which direction to go. He's kind of the embodiment of a GPS.

3. The Band Concert (1935, Wilfred Jackson)

Up until about ten minutes ago I was scratching my head over this one. "Really?" I said out loud in a falsetto voice (to startle my co-workers), "This is the highest rated cartoon from the studio that gave us Lonesome Ghosts and Donald in Mathmagic Land?" I also had no idea who the hell Wilfred Jackson was, considering the Disney company isn't exactly generous when it comes to giving credit to its supporting talent. Jackson, it turns out, was an animator/composer who was vital to developing the technology that added a soundtrack to Steamboat Willie. His talent is all over Fantasia and the Silly Symphonies, including the Academy Award winning short The Old Mill.

The Band Concert is essentially an integration of sound and visual gags, full of slapstick and a comedic sense of grace (and the single most effective use of "Turkey in the Straw" as a rebellion). Mickey Mouse conducts his small, but versatile orchestra with stubborn delusions of high artistry. Enter the talented yet boorish Donald Duck (read: working class, we do love our structures) who insists on redirecting the performance to fit his antics. I never realized before today that the duck has the only lines of dialogue in this whole cartoon. High art temporarily wins out until a coincidentally summoned force of nature equalizes the playing field. And we're left feeling Donald's moral victory as well as empathizing with the band's "F- you!" towards him.

Why is it on the list?

I have to admit, going into this blog I didn't show this cartoon the respect it deserves. But now that I've actually put forth the smallest measurement of effort to research it, I can totally get behind the cartoon's placement. There's an obvious greatness to the short, but there's an even greater greatness on a subtle level.

What would I choose instead?

So I was originally going to direct you to 1942's Symphony Hour which is a sort of spiritual successor involving a classical medley and then the Spike Jones version (including a cathartic moment where easygoing Mickey literally threatens to shoot Donald in the face). But I think instead I'm going to give a nod to the beautiful 1991 interactive movie Dragon's Lair II: Time Warp by Don Bluth.

The original Dragon's Lair is an iconic arcade game, with a lesser known but still wonderful sequel. It's hard to say which of the two is better, or makes a better game, but Dragon's Lair II certainly works much better as a watchable short film. From beginning to end Dirk the Daring is in an obstacle course of complete chaos, and it just seems to build relentlessly. The prehistoric scene is epic on its own, and the concise version of Alice in Wonderland has to be seen to be believed. But it's the Beethoven's Fifth Symphony segment that feels most like a nod to The Band Concert. Beethoven's creative energy creates a whirlwind of musical notes and instruments that torments Dirk all the way up into the stratosphere and down again. All we're missing is Donald's lone applause at the end.

2. Duck Amuck (1953, Chuck Jones)

You have to know this one already. Daffy Duck versus the animator; spoiler alert: Bugs (I know, not much of a warning, but come on). Daffy isn't just a legendary character, he's an honest to God metaphor. We're all Daffy. It's the magic behind why he can be so unlovable and so un-unlovable at the same time. He's humanity's id; given snark, a thesaurus, and a detachable beak. Chuck Jones once said that he always hoped to see Bugs when he looked in the mirror but he usually saw Daffy. Perhaps being the sadistic bastards that we all truly are, it comes as little surprise that we want to see Daffy erupt. When the duck does it, in a strange way it liberates our own repressed inner children. Hence, we watch Daffy get beaten down over and over and it never stops being funny.

Why is it on the list?

You're kidding, right (anonymous reader who has no control over the words I type)? Whenever I get into a discussion about whether or nor comedy has an artistic side (which happens more often than you'd imagine) this short is one of my go-to examples. If Duck Amuck was merely about pissing off Daffy that would be awesome enough. But this is equally about an artist's experiment with character. When does Daffy stop being Daffy? If you change his color or shape? If you take his voice away? If you take away everything but his voice?

There is a beat in the cartoon between where Daffy's body gets erased entirely and he grumbles "All right, wise guy. Where am I?" In that one beat, there is nothing on the screen but a blank white canvas. And yet, because of the context, there is a tension. And from nothing other than our own feeling, Daffy is still there. There are countless characters who only live (and die) when they're presented to us, and some aren't even strong enough to come to life despite the production team's efforts. Daffy is one of those rarities who lives in the collective consciousness, like Santa Claus or the monster under the bed. And we are free to laugh at his misfortune and suffering, because we intuitively know something about him that he doesn't. He's unbreakable.

What would I choose instead?

There really isn't anything that tops this short, or even comes close. So I think I'd prefer to bring up 1955's Rabbit Rampage, also by Chuck Jones. This is an identical (almost plagiarized) premise with Bugs Bunny in Daffy's role and Elmer Fudd as the animator. And while a few of the gags bring smiles, the most interesting thing to me about it is why it ultimately doesn't work.

If Daffy is the id, Bugs is the ego, and ego actually can be broken (which is why the bunny usually has the animators on his side). Id and ego also want very different things. Daffy HAS to be in the cartoon. He needs the spotlight more than he needs oxygen. As such, he is willing to endure any abuse anyone throws at him just to stay in front of the audience. Bugs has no unfulfilled needs. Elmer's monkey business is more of a nuisance to him than a threat. And unlike Daffy, Bugs has every intention and reason to walk off the cartoon.

From there it's nothing more than an endurance test. Bugs knows he only has to make it to the end of the cartoon. It's a weaker motivation, and the comedy never feels like it's more than time filler. By the end of Rabbit Rampage I've gotten bored. With Duck Amuck I'm ready for another twenty minutes of Daffy.

1. What's Opera, Doc? (1957, Chuck Jones)

You've got to admit this was ambitious. Cartoons have had a history of ruining classical compositions forever, while immortalizing them. I don't know if Franz Liszt would be offended or flattered that his Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 had become the unofficial theme song of classical comedy.

So what's the first thing you think of when I say Richard Wagner? No, for once Jim Steinman is not the correct answer. I'll retract the question in favor of, is it possible to hear Ride of the Valkyries without transposing the lyrics "Kill the Wabbit" onto it? If you said anything but 'no', go sit in the corner until I tell you otherwise.

There's very little to say about this cartoon that hasn't been said already. What you need to know, if you don't already, is how much work went into it. Chuck Jones and Michael Maltese took the then-stale Elmer/Bugs chase formula and adapted it to a musical style that most of us (rightfully) ignore. Then they went through the arduous task of teaching accurate ballet steps to the rabbit and leave you wondering if there's been a romantic subtext between Elmer and Bugs this whole time.

Why is it on the list?

Because it deserves to be. There's no way around it. All of the hard work that went into it, and wasn't initially appreciated, earns it a spot on the list and in the Library of Congress's National Film Registry preservation.

Now, do I think it's flawless? Not quite, and I realize I'm impossible to please. Given the work conditions under producer Edward Selzer, it's a lucky break this short was made at all. But there's a noticeable skip in the narrative right in the middle when we jump from the opening sequence to Bugs in drag. I feel like Elmer needed to keep him running for a few minutes, and being a threat for the first time show how Bugs's usual gimmicks aren't working before he has to resort to seduction. Yeah, I'm nitpicking. *bad blogger*

Now it's a personal preference, I happen to like The Rabbit of Seville more than What's Opera, Doc?. And if I'd been a registered voter for this list, I would have campaigned for Duck Amuck to take the top spot. But I honestly get why this was selected for the highest honors. It really is brilliant. And that closing bit when Elmer finally kills Bugs is Bambi's-mother-level heart wrenching. He sits up to give the punch line, but it's too late. I'm in tears.

What would I choose instead?

I've got nothing.

But that's not going to shut me up. I've made it a point to throw some love to cartoon shorts that didn't show up on the Top 50 list. This last one is no exception; 1984's Jumping by Osamu Tezuka. No, it's not remotely related to What's Opera, Doc?, but it may be the most captivating six and a half minutes of animation I've ever seen. It takes a simple concept to show things that are going on simultaneously in our world and find both the humor and the darkness in it (warning: brief nudity and depictions of war, you tell me which is worse to show).

I really am surprised this one isn't mentioned in the Top 50, and I'm wondering if it somehow slipped past the ballot. But honestly, do yourself a favor and click the link to watch it.

And I'll see you all after Thanksgiving.

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