I am a huge Looney Tunes fan. I'm from the generation that didn't just grow up on them, we absorbed them. They were everywhere; comic books, TV specials, movies, and of course the never ending reruns of the classic shorts that just never seemed to get old.
In the early days of animation, the studios were all competing with Disney, as Walt's animation team had risen to dominance. It was the creators of the Looney Tunes who first abandoned this approach in favor of finding their own voice, planting the seed of rebelliousness that Bugs and company have always embodied. To paraphrase people smarter than me, if Disney was classic music, the Looney Tunes were jazz.
It's that same rebellious spirit that's granted the Loonies (the word I've chosen to use) their post-Termite Terrace longevity but also made them a difficult fit for the long form storytelling of cinema, as their movies prior to Roger Rabbit had essentially been clip show excuses to recycle the shorts of the golden age. I mention Roger Rabbit because (curiously) every attempt to put Bugs and Daffy in a feature film since then have somehow obligatorily been a hybrid of animation and live action.
Perhaps the reason for this is because the Loonies by nature aren't meant to have character development, they're meant to be funny; and in their case funny is about seven minutes of pain and suffering and nobody learning anything until we do a palette cleanse and go again. Thus it makes sense to have a POV character to handle the film's plot from beginning to end so the animals can go back to trying to kill each other.
It's with this lens that I want to look at the unofficial film trilogy Space Jam, Not Space Jam, And Back to Space Jam, to figure out what went wrong, what went right, and what in theory Warner Brothers can do about it.
Space Jam
For me the 90's was a college degree that will never matter, a series of customer service jobs, and an overall sense of hopelessness. Visually, it's a tumbleweed rolling between Clerks and Reality Bites with the occasional espresso shot of joy from Kevin Conroy's Batman (I don't know if that's irony or just really sad). The then-younglings seemed to be having a much better time of it, with Spielberg's TV shows and an insatiable urge to zigazig ah.
Somewhere in the midst of it all, athletes became superheroes. I've always been on the geek side of jocks vs. geeks and we were never going to win with a dial-up connection, but we had a begrudging respect for the top tier personalities of basketball's "dream team" even if we couldn't tell you who they'd played for prior to the 1992 Olympics. It was only natural that a player of Michael Jordan's charm would go on to play himself in front of a green screen to the most 90's soundtrack ever Jock Jammed together.
So what can I say about 1996's Space Jam besides director Joe Pytka is a whiny bitch? Well, to summarize, the Looney Tunes live underneath the surface of the earth (in Hell maybe?) and Danny DeVito voicing a Danny DeVito knockoff decides we're overdue for a remake of The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island. To WB's credit, they don't waste any time trying to infuse the premise with credibility; this film is just a theme park ride.
Stuff happens, some of it is smile-worthy, none of it feels particularly inspired; it's just dumb fun with a soundtrack. The problem is the Looney Tunes are not dumb fun, they're comedic art. Jordan is fine at playing himself but he's no Bob Hoskins, and the only way for him to get in and out of Bugs's anarchy is by removing the rabbit's teeth. These are Diet Looney Tunes, which raises a fundamental question for all three of these films: Does the person/committee calling the shots understand them?
In Space Jam the answer is a resounding no. First off, as mentioned previously this ain't Disney. These characters do not get along or cooperate for a common goal. One wonders if there was a draft of the script where DeVito's Swackhammer actually enticed the greedier Loonies over to his side in the first act. The second thing, Bugs Bunny is pure ego. He doesn't kowtow to anybody, even if his life depends on it. And finally there's Lola, who I assume started as sexualized fan art of Babs Bunny. The thing about Jessica Rabbit, and her precursor Red Hot Riding Hood, is the characters were sexy but they also had layers. Their respective creators took the time to at least answer the question for themselves "What does she want?". Lola apparently just wants to strut, which is fine if she's a running gag, but Space Jam is trying to pass her off as a new addition to the Looney Tunes cast. "Don't call me doll" isn't a character any more than if Bugs's whole shtick was his love of carrots.
So was there anything about the movie that caught my attention? Yeah, one scene. When Bugs and Daffy have to break into Michael Jordan's house to collect his gear there's a tiny bit of the lifetime of animosity between them. It's not much, Daffy just makes a couple of insincere grand bows to Bugs's orders. But the sense that Daffy's resentment is still tucked away in there is the one sign of life in the old bird. And in the movie. And where there's a spark...
Looney Tunes: Back in Action
Full disclosure, I saw this once in the theater and walked away thinking "Eh, that was okay," and didn't think much more about it. Until the next morning when my brain started replaying some beats from the movie; the frustrated Batman during the Roger Corman cameo, the scene in the Louvre, the moment Daffy Freaking Duck saves humanity from being turned into monkeys. I went back a second time and walked away thinking "This was actually pretty well done." Then a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth, dragging my various coworkers with me. I've since decided that this movie is a gem.
With flaws, but all gems are. None of which derail the movie, they just stand out in a film that shoots for the moon and damn near hits it. The first is the self-consciousness of the jokes. As someone who's actively tried writing comedy I can tell you that when you worry you're not being funny enough you overcompensate by cramming as many jokes into your work space as you can. The one liners come desperately fast, and it's no wonder; when you're trying to match Chuck Jones, Michael Maltese, and Mel Blanc, you're setting a Marx Brothers level bar (the good movies, not The Big Store). It's also worth acknowledging that the studio kept interfering with Joe Dante's direction, demanding changes that can't really be made that late into animation.
The other flaw is the human cast, which as I say isn't really a problem. Just...you know...not Bob Hoskins. Steve Martin's Acme Chairman could probably have used a test audience. He's good enough for an Austin Powers character, but we know what Martin is capable of; it's kind of late Steve Martin 'doing' early Steve Martin. Jenna Elfman is decent, but perhaps some coaching from Carol Burnett would have solidified the character she was going for. Timothy Dalton is quite funny, if underused. And Joan Cusack might be an actual cartoon character in disguise.
The wild card is Brendan Fraser, who has the thankless job of pretending the movie is about him. The short version: he's much better in the role than you think he is. Fraser is a subtle actor, which is easy to overlook if you're only familiar with his popular movies. Here the burden of convincing us of Back in Action's rules on the Looney Tunes (actors who play themselves) rests predominantly on his shoulders. Jordan played Jordan. Fraser plays DJ, an out of work stuntman who just lost his job before learning his actor-father is actually a secret agent while dealing with the always temperamental and recently fired Daffy Duck; and that's act one. And Fraser finds a way to make it all feel sincere while getting out of the spotlight of the real star. It's arguably the most generous performance I've ever seen an actor give.
The real star is Daffy. From the opening moments, this movie lets you know that it knows what it's about. Looney Tunes don't do 'heart' like the Muppets, it's just not their thing. But Back in Action allows the duck and the rabbit to dip their toes in a pool we've all wondered about: does Daffy hurt? Playing second fiddle is an enviable position to everyone except the one in that position, because right next to you is that damn first chair spot that no matter what you do you just can't crawl your way into.
The great Joe Alaskey voices both Bugs and Daffy and he infuses both characters with the whole of their long history together. Outwardly, Bugs is as much of a dick as he's always been, but behind the mallard's back Bugs is very defensive of him. Daffy wants respect, and he's never going to get it. It's not fair; it's comedy. In the end, nothing changes. Daffy doesn't get respect or resolution; hell, he's too self absorbed to even recognize that he saved all of humanity. As the audience, we know that Daffy is lovable, and he's working so hard to prove something that he doesn't have to. It's tragic in a way, but it's also comforting to see without question that Bugs knows what we know. No one can top Bugs, but Daffy is his equal.
Space Jam: A New Legacy
I want to start by talking about Don Cheadle. I've always thought he was a great actor, but I've never seen him go over the top. He is having so much fun as villain Al-G Rhythm, it's a contagious performance. Now with that said, for a movie with the freaking Looney Tunes in it, there's a real problem when the first thing I want to do is talk about Don Cheadle. In fact, I don't even want to talk about them next. Let's talk LeBron James.
I don't agree with any of the criticism James is getting about not being able to act. It's not to say that I think he can act; just that I've only seen him in this, and it's not a fair example. Green screen acting is hard. You need at least one of two things to not look completely like a dumbass, a director who can walk the actor through each performance beat or an actor who's skilled enough to ask the right questions. It's unreasonable to expect James to be the latter at this point in his Hollywood career, and I can't really gauge Malcolm D. Lee's directorial talent from his filmography (much less how much control he even had over the project). Suffice to say, James is serviceable. I wanted him to be better, and I still do, I'd like to see more from him. But I don't think he was bad, and I really believe he was trying, and in some ways succeeding.
The problem with this movie is the WB studio. I don't know what conglomerate calls the shots, but they understand their franchises as well as Michael Eisner understood Disney's. Essentially what we have here is about six executives worth of ideas and only one who gets it right part of the time. You know, pretty much a true to form follow up of the original. I will say I enjoyed watching it. Once. But like the original, I doubt I'll ever go back and revisit it. Why, you ask? Well let's pretend you do. Because it makes the same stupid mistake the original did and Back in Action didn't, it doesn't understand the Looney Tunes.
So instead of reviewing it, let me try story doctoring it. First off, open with Al-G in the serververse where he has the idea to allow WB franchises to intermingle. He sends it to the executives who turn it down because it seems like a stupid idea. That rejection hurts, so he tries to implement it anyway, by going to the Looney Tunes to test it out; and show that scene. They're all intrigued and head off to different worlds. But, being Looney Tunes, it's in their nature to f**k things up. So now Al-G has just taken an idea that nobody liked and made it harmful, thus making him both a sympathetic character as well as a potential villain.
He can't control them or get them to come back into their own world. So what might work? Space Jam sequel. He just needs a player. "LeBron, how would you like to test out our new technology and star in a new Space Jam movie? You'll actually play opposite the Looney Tunes in real time, not drawn by frames but performed virtually! kind of like a video game. Great! Let's do some screen tests. I'm gonna send you into various situations and you just kind of wing it, convince the characters to join your team."
From there it's about the serververse rewriting itself around Al-G's premise, probably making him more powerful but also locking him into the outcome of this basketball game. And it would give us more time to spend with the individual Loonies. Put Bugs in a world like Scooby-Doo where the rules don't favor him. Have him start playing along by dressing up as the monster but then have him start to forget who he is by adopting the new role (thus showing why this was a bad idea). Put Porky and Sylvester in a Final Destination movie (a la "Scaredy Cat"). Have Daffy battle Jim Carrey's Mask character (it's owned by WB, I looked it up). I mean, really go for it.
I don't know how it ends and I don't care, but doesn't that sound a lot more anarchic than what they did? Like the original, I enjoyed things about the movie. One of the few inspired choices was to have Bugs treat James as if he's an antagonist during their first meeting, because that's what Bugs is used to. Ultimately A New Legacy is bigger and noisier than its predecessor, but about the same in quality.
So What Should WB Do Next?
Besides turn the DCEU over to Bruce Timm and Paul Dini? Okay, the problem with handling the Looney Tunes isn't with the characters; they're timeless. Like all avatars for the soul of comedy they're the funhouse mirror that reflects on the world as it is, albeit distorted; there will never be a time when someone can correctly say that they're outdated.
But figuring out how to find our way back to that soul is a trickier approach. WB keeps trying, and once in a while they strike gold (see The Looney Tunes Show). But I think we can find a better strategy than throwing things at the wall to see what sticks; again, DCEU take note.
I want to tell a story that I love telling, and probably already have in another blog post. Later in his life Chuck Jones started making public appearances, and at one event a mom and her little girl went up to meet him. "This is Chuck Jones," said the mom to her daughter, "He draws Bugs Bunny." The girl quite firmly corrected her mother, "No, he draws pictures of Bugs Bunny."
This exchange stuck with Jones, and he took a little time to reflect on what the girl had meant. He realized she was right in the way that a child's wisdom always is. Nobody ever "created" Bugs Bunny. He existed, on some other unseen plane where he continues to exist. Periodically he reveals something of his personality and antics to those of a creative mindset, and it's the privilege of those artists to translate his existence into a form for the whole world to share. And it's with this understanding that WB's ideal direction becomes clear.
Double down on Lola.
A couple of reasons. One, the Looney Tunes as a whole has historically been a boys club and that element IS outdated. Two, we've already seen three different versions of Lola, in much the way that Jones's Daffy differed significantly from Robert McKimson's Daffy but they were still the same duck. And three, when my wife and I went to see A New Legacy there was a young woman in the theater dressed in Lola's outfit from the first movie; not the rabbit head mind you, but the unmistakable basketball uniform. As much of a non-character as she was in Space Jam, something about her connected with an audience. Almost like there's a new voice from that plane Bugs resides in, asking to be turned loose in our world.
So what I propose, all you decision makers who are never going to read this, is a half-hour cartoon series called Lola. Each episode is made up of three individual shorts, just like the old cartoons, that all feature Lola. Animation style can vary and there doesn't need to be any continuity, just give her a canvas to play on, to find her identity.
Imagine the possibilities just from having her interact with the other characters in already familiar situations. How would she deal with opera-diva Giovanni Jones from "Long-Haired Hare" differently than Bugs did? Would she focus more on humiliating him by redecorating his stage to look like a saloon and make him perform with an orchestra of banjoes? How would Elmer Fudd react to her? "Oh, I didn't weawize you wewe a wady," Would she take that as an insult and spend the whole cartoon demanding he shoot at her? What about Wile E. Coyote? Would she take an interest in his elaborate traps, even trying to help make them work without fully understanding their purpose? And what if she has a goal that comes into conflict with a 'winner' character like Speedy Gonzales?
There are always ways for the Loonies to evolve as times change and new issues come to the forefront. They're strong enough for a fresh take and some current risks. The main thing to remember, you don't go into comedy because it's safe, you go into it because it isn't. Give them their teeth and their dynamite and just roll with the carnage.
No comments:
Post a Comment