tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204041072011-08-24T20:16:05.341-07:00Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.comBlogger1951100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-45707142423180113802008-09-07T18:25:00.000-07:002008-09-07T18:25:00.904-07:00

Director: Jonathan Watts & David KarlsbergU.S., 5 minutes, color animatedCinema 4 Rating: 7At least the filmmakers admit that their project is built upon a one-joke premise.What producer/co-director David Karlsberg doesn’t really declare, perhaps out of a humility rarely found in filmmakers, is how well-sustained that one joke turns out to be. Granted, Clay Pride: Being Clay in America, yet

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-23809655160305310082008-09-01T18:05:00.000-07:002008-09-07T18:30:10.707-07:00

Director: Hisko HulsingNetherlands, 12:00, color animatedCinema 4 Rating: 7At what level do we begin to recognize our own failure? If we start out with imperial ambitions, is everything else short of controlling the world considered to be a failure? Since most of us will never, or should never, wish for such power, I guess we all have to just be thankful for whatever success we might achieve, and

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-87259749887855483712008-05-07T21:56:00.000-07:002008-05-07T21:59:41.392-07:00

Director: Isadore [Friz] FrelengMGM, 0:09, b/wCinema 4 Rating: 5Is it all that pent-up frustration over having two highly prolific brats within his household that causes der Captain to go all hellfire crazy on the behinds of a quintet of garden-rustling chickens? Released from his torturous home life for at least this entry in MGM’s not entirely successful (but not entirely unworthy or

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-76056302705820032732008-04-24T08:03:00.000-07:002008-04-24T08:04:25.176-07:00

Directors: Preston Blair & Michael Lah MGM, 0:07 animated short, color Cinema 4 Rating: 5 Shark appearance: cartoon shark (undefinable species), able to roar and growl, no sense of humor.So, who has it worse? Sharks in the movies -- where they are employed mainly to threaten the lives of the (usually) human characters in the film, or at the very least, imply that said characters are in mortal

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-20460945254803779672007-12-25T14:55:00.000-08:002008-05-07T22:12:24.588-07:00

Director: Max Fleischer //Jam Handy Organization, 1948Cinema 4 Rating: 5 It's not Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer's fault that he isn't Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.Well, what I mean is it's not this innocent Max Fleischer-directed animated short from 1948's fault that it isn't the stop-motion television special created by Rankin-Bass in 1964. Barring the occasional heckling from someone who

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-39263270697128253562007-04-22T20:02:00.000-07:002008-04-24T08:09:32.388-07:00

[This post was originally placed on my main blogsite, The Cinema 4 Pylon, on February 2, 2007. For some reason I neglected to place it on here, so until I get a new review on here, this bit of mystery will have to suffice...]When I first got the "series of tubes" (Ted Stevens, bless your technological acumen!) hooked up in April of 2005, just after I moved to Anaheim, before I even thought of

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-91258300011039171722007-04-15T11:01:00.000-07:002008-05-07T22:13:58.109-07:00

Oi! What's that moving about in the corner? Could it be...? It is!It's been months since the Cinema 4: Cel Bloc has betrayed any signs of life, and now, apparently the time is ripe for a return, albeit in a greatly reduced fashion. Though I am not picking up the cartoon-reviewing trail yet (though I would like to sooner than later), I wanted to pop in here briefly and perform a pair of rather

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1152393408079884002006-07-08T14:16:00.000-07:002008-05-07T22:15:26.659-07:00

Rare is the post on this site that doesn't involve a review of some variety regarding an animated film of some vintage. In fact, this is only the third one in over six months that isn't built around a cartoon, but it is a necessary interruption in our normally scheduled program.Since the beginning of the year, I have kept up this blog as a way of keeping myself in my writing trim, as it were;

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1152079071968882222006-07-06T07:06:00.000-07:002008-05-07T22:21:58.377-07:00

Directors: Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising Warner Bros. Merrie Melodies, 0:07, b/w Animators: Friz Freleng and Norm Blackburn Music: Frank Marsales Cinema 4 Rating: 5Ah, wilderness! I moved away from it, at least, away from the largest single measure of it in the United States, when I left Alaska, and to a certain extent, I miss it dearly. Mainly, I miss the possibility that my dad might call me up

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1152067676673286242006-07-05T07:05:00.000-07:002008-05-08T06:15:29.920-07:00

Director: Dave Fleischer //A Max Fleischer Color Classic, TechnicolorAnimators: Myron Waldman and Tony PabianCinema 4 Rating: 4Who deserves a spanking in The Barnyard Brat? The obnoxious little donkey turd named Spunky, the indecisive mother named Hunky, or the far too anxious to commit child abuse barnyard animals? Well, none of them. (Except that little brat donkey is asking for something

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1152041546360711292006-07-04T12:04:00.000-07:002006-07-04T18:41:15.610-07:00

I miss my usual Fourth of July gang, hanging at my buddy Leif's place, which just so conveniently lies across the street from Anchorage's Mulcahy Stadium, where the annual fireworks display goes off at midnight, after we have partied hard all day with a barbeque, water fights, bocci ball, frisbee and dealing with drunk guys on bicycles when they invade the party because they once lived in the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151906805965021762006-07-03T07:03:00.000-07:002007-08-06T21:20:26.226-07:00

Recently, I've been perusing the latest issue of Filmfax, a magazine that often reads more like a catalog (which, in many ways, it is), but nonetheless is packed with some incredible informative articles on some rather obscure areas or personalities. While I don't really need to know what the extra in White Pongo thought about the horrible gorilla suit, it's nice to have such thoughts easily at

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151906394321440482006-07-02T16:45:00.000-07:002006-07-02T23:33:07.826-07:00

I will resist the urge to start this post with either an "I say" or a "Boy!", and simply profess that I am a great admirer of Foghorn Leghorn. My father probably had something to do with this, as he has counted Foghorn, along with the ornery Yosemite Sam, as one of his favorite cartoon characters; not that long ago I was able to read the delight on his face as he watched a Foghorn short that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151828989929050192006-07-01T20:30:00.000-07:002006-07-02T01:31:30.016-07:00

Yeah, I have gopher-killing in my genes. I recall a trip back to Wisconsin where my dear Granny came back into her farmhouse off the backsteps with a shotgun after having blasted at a couple of the varmints in the backyard. Not that I would ever go to such lengths -- I would merely point out, "Hey, look! A couple of gophers! Let's name them Mac 'n Tosh!" Inevitably, to whomever I said this

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151737378069599052006-06-30T22:53:00.000-07:002006-07-01T00:02:58.223-07:00

Nicky Nome, the former Chief Gnome, is at it again, bringing his do-goody-good aid to the rescue of fairytale lovers everywhere, and this time in the Arabian Nights vein. Oh, yes... and though he is without the aid of his beloved horsehopper (that's right -- a grasshopper with a horse's head, and yes, in one film, Nicky did a little mackin' on his "pet"), Nicky still gets results by having at his

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151678954037297432006-06-29T06:29:00.000-07:002006-06-30T22:50:53.530-07:00

Now, where was I? Oh, that's right...I was interrupted at the beginning of a middling Porky pig cartoon by a political plea to turn a Senatorial vote. Returning to Porky Pig as he shakes his curly tail singing and dancing about the backstage of his theatre in preparation for a special evening hour performance, itself the target of the film's title, Porky's Midnight Matinee, from Chuck Jones and

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151677622352917142006-06-28T06:28:00.000-07:002006-06-30T07:27:02.376-07:00

Except for the colorization, the film could be any number of Porky Pig Looney Tunes shorts of its era: the Warner Bros. company card and then Porky reclining comfortably on top of a wooden fence in overalls; directly beneath him lies the announcement that this particular short is another entry in the popular Looney Tunes series, pretty much promising to the viewer that much riotous antics are

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150090287104979802006-06-27T06:27:00.000-07:002006-06-28T12:09:34.173-07:00

My buddy, The Duke, always said that Tweety Bird was an evil little shit. Whether you call him Tweety Bird, Tweety Pie or just plain Tweety, I have always agreed with this statement wholeheartedly. Yes, I love it when the little yellow canary does his baby-voiced wendition of Singin' in the Bathtub, which I have taken great delight in repeating (usually in the shower) throughout my life, even

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151294644852078002006-06-26T06:26:00.000-07:002006-06-26T21:32:11.696-07:00

Seeing as how our girls are both Rescue Dogs, and since Jen will not cave in to my request to own a lizard, snake, frog or tarantula which might rely on the icky dispatching of crickets or mice for sustenance, I have taken up a search for another pet of the warm-blooded variety. Since a mistress was clearly out of the question, I had to take my search to various animal rescue societies in the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151270774380789752006-06-25T06:25:00.000-07:002006-06-25T14:28:35.340-07:00

A train hurtles towards us at breathtaking speed, zipping past the telephone poles that lie on either side of its engine without a care, dust from the tracks kicking up beneath its iron frame, and black smoke oozing out of its stack in a relentless wave of sickening exhaust. We see this streaming smoke from the side as the train's whistle announces its approach to any who would be unlucky enough

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151174146345287492006-06-24T11:33:00.000-07:002006-06-24T21:22:12.433-07:00

The new Depp Pirates flick can't show up soon enough. Jen is driving me crazy. Not only does is she "in the zone" on her anticipation of the new film (as is much of female America over their lust for both Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom and pirates in general), but since she works at Disneyland, she has been keeping me in the loop over every development in the park's VIP premiere showing this

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151127965047780332006-06-23T21:42:00.000-07:002006-06-23T22:46:16.023-07:00

Consistency isn't something that you expect from the early days of Van Beuren's Aesop's Sound Fables, what with still working out the sound gimmick and all, and you certainly don't get it in any measure with The King of Bugs, put out by Van Beuren workhorses Harry Bailey and John Foster in 1930. Neither in the relative sizes of bugs to backgrounds or bugs to mammals, character motivations or the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1151074296547902722006-06-22T23:22:00.000-07:002006-06-23T20:51:07.433-07:00

I have yet to see a firefly in person, but I do know this much: they are not actually all that cute close up. Neither are most bugs, at least to the human eye, but we still separate "good" insects from "bad" based merely on our collective perceptions of their personalities. Seen from our angle, if a bug has a trait that seems to be good or beneficial to humans, or if it achieves a vision of human

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150857438789125912006-06-21T06:21:00.000-07:002006-06-21T08:38:17.263-07:00

It's strange, but the time when I seem to miss the snow the most is in the middle of June. I've already run through exactly why I was not missing the ice and snow this past "winter" (for it must always be written in quotes in California when spoken of as a local season). All of my reasons were perfectly selfish and perfectly on the mark. But, here it is, around the beginning of summer (officially

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150784259794817562006-06-20T06:20:00.000-07:002006-06-20T19:37:33.686-07:00

The Curious Puppy? Not "Two Curious Puppies"? What happened to the other one since the last film? Did one of them lose his curiousity, and now he's called 'The Puppy Who Used To Be Curious But Now Goes "Whatever...'"? Did his curiosity kill him like it would a cat of similar stripe? Did one of them get demoted? What the hell is going on?!!As it turns out, in The Curious Puppy, the follow-up to

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150605492055282302006-06-19T06:19:00.000-07:002006-06-20T19:37:59.226-07:00

Two Curious Puppies? I'm not so sure that our girls could really be described that way. Sure, Isabelle is full of bluster and bark whenever anything even thinks of breathing within about a quarter-mile radius of us, or when she just thinks something is doing so, but otherwise the girls are scared of the shadows of their own shadows. We lock them in the kitchen during the day simply because they

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150576623208482652006-06-18T06:18:00.000-07:002006-06-18T00:48:40.003-07:00

I don't know if jumping through hoops is literally a part of the cadre of tests that one must take to become a fireman, even a volunteer one, but I wouldn't be surprised if it were. It's not like the armed forces where they will take practically anyone for cannon fodder, as long as you shut up about certain things. No, to put your life on the line fighting fires in what I consider to be the most

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150295710104697452006-06-17T06:17:00.000-07:002006-06-17T10:37:37.543-07:00

It's strange how what frightens us as a child doesn't necessarily affect us as adults, or at least, doesn't affect us to the same degree as it once did. Monsters come and go, and we learn how to deal with them, and our nightmare villains slowly get displaced by scenarios laced with elements from our personal realities, wherein our subconscious attempts to allow us to deal with things that might

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150517154573808782006-06-16T19:15:00.000-07:002006-06-16T21:05:54.700-07:00

In my post yesterday about A Ride For Cinderella, the car-ad-toon pushing Chevy coaches on an unsuspecting public (but only if they don't watch the opening credits), I mentioned how the Chief Gnome must be some sort of licensed peeping tom, judging from all of the spying that he does throughout both that film and its predecessor, A Coach For... hmm, I forget who it was for... So, what is it with

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150435732434441622006-06-15T22:25:00.000-07:002006-06-15T22:31:19.796-07:00

When last we visited Chief Gnome, he had left his version of the Cinderella story hanging in the middle, with Cindy heading off to Prince Charming's ball in a Chevrolet Coach which was really a pumpkin that had been magically run through a "MODERNIZER" machine. (Wondering what the hell it is to which I am referring? Check out yesterday's post.) This break in the story was clearly taken so that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150351713977656302006-06-14T22:27:00.000-07:002007-12-25T13:49:23.949-08:00

I have almost no regard for advertising whatsoever, which is really funny since I ended up in the marketing world in the past year. To me, the world is one in which advertising is only there to be skipped -- TiVo, now that I have a variant of it in my cable DVR, is a boon to this drive to avoid such influence. Though perhaps influence isn't the right word; I am not actually avoiding the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150090523364149472006-06-13T06:13:00.000-07:002006-06-13T22:30:55.786-07:00

Okay, I'm getting just a little sick and tired of the mouse bias in the cartoon world. Cats get it in the ass over and over again, but no one ever seems to consider whether the little rodent creeps deserve the ill intentions directed towards them. Just like wolves and coyotes always getting cast as bad guys, cats always seem to be on the wrong end of most every slapstick situation. Just like

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1150081432205671742006-06-12T06:12:00.000-07:002006-06-12T07:53:27.500-07:00

Everyone now and then I come up with an invention that I feel would surely improve my life immeasurably if I only had the scientific and engineering know-how to bring the idea to fruition. Monetarily, the idea usually would not have a practical application and thus would be unlikely to bring great fortune into my life. This is probably because my inventions spring forth from a purely selfish

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149863206735591672006-06-11T06:11:00.000-07:002006-06-11T12:43:34.576-07:00

Why the hell would you want five razor blades running across your skin at one time? Is this just another example of "Bigger Is Better" American advertising convincing us that if two blades will do a decent job, then four blades will do it twice as well? I personally use the Sensor Excel two-blade system, though I have no idea whether or not it does the job any better or smoother than a single

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149907602330696452006-06-10T06:10:00.000-07:002006-06-10T20:16:46.166-07:00

A few years ago, I attended a Fourth of July party where I happened in on the proceedings a couple hours late. In the back yard, where much sunbathing, lounging and volleyball would continue on without my interference for several more hours, there was a generous spread of picnic type foods laid out on various tables, and as I had not eaten yet that day, I was more than happy to check out the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149907449125102642006-06-09T06:09:00.000-07:002006-06-09T23:44:49.773-07:00

I hate to bring anyone down, but... alright, I love to bring people down, so let me continue apace...It's odd that so much of cartoon history has been built around the order of Rodentia. After all, don't most people react with disgust and fear whenever a rat or a mouse crosses our path? Before you go all wonky with the chauvinistic pride, a lot of guys react the same way as the stereotyped

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149479982089062042006-06-08T06:08:00.000-07:002006-06-08T22:34:14.026-07:00

Boy, if anybody ever was the poster child for birth control, outside of Tom Cruise, it has to be the Old Woman in the Shoe. My question is: who the hell is knocking her up so much? How can one woman have so many friggin' babies? Not to be age-ist, but she's old, so why is she still having brats? How many different fathers are there? How is she paying the rent if she is watching the kids all the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149472567683538412006-06-07T06:07:00.000-07:002006-06-07T22:23:33.590-07:00

When I saw Penn and Teller on the stage years ago (and also had the chance to meet them post-show, where I had a spirited discussion about Buster Keaton with the stage-silent Teller), Penn Jillette mentioned something about the true nature of magic, or rather, illusion, as they prefer to call it. I don't remember his exact words, but it had something to do with the people who can't just be happy

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149450253086443062006-06-06T06:06:00.000-07:002006-06-06T06:02:14.466-07:00

Right now, my Anchorage friends (The Bohemians) have just gotten through their first of two weekends at the Three Barons Faire, an annual renaissance festival that we have taken part in since the end of high school. (That's about 23 years, folks.) I haven't done it for four years now, and since I have left Alaska, there is little or no chance that I will ever see the Faire again. I burnt my

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1149450103585220172006-06-05T06:05:00.000-07:002006-06-04T22:49:37.783-07:00

Honestly, I think Walt Disney had every right to complain about the hordes of animated mice that ran rampant after his boy Mickey hit the big time in the late 1920's. Disney has his detractors, and many of them would argue that he was just as guilty as the others of intellectual theft as any other studio. Animation was (and is) a constantly evolving field, and the game grew by leaps and bounds in

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148962167813342472006-06-04T06:04:00.000-07:002006-06-04T21:00:45.920-07:00

Birds... just when I thought that I was out, they pull me back in. Every single time that I think my peace has been made with these winged freaks, something flaps along to spoil this accord. I will meet someone's asshole pet parakeet, which will be loud and obnoxious and try to snap you if get even two inches from the cage, and I swear off bird relationships forever. But then you meet a swell

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148921327550664492006-06-03T06:03:00.000-07:002006-06-04T09:40:37.036-07:00

It's weird how Farmer Al Falfa used to be a Van Beuren guy until Paul Terry took off with him. Only two years after this Aesop's Fables cartoon, Noah Knew His Ark from 1930, Farmer Falfa would star in a similar cartoon over at Terrytoons called Noah's Outing (which I reviewed here), once the already departed Terry swiped the character away from Van Beurne. It's only notable because, while this

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148921034942053382006-06-02T06:02:00.000-07:002006-06-02T23:50:23.200-07:00

Part of the joy of continuing this experiment has been rediscovering for myself cartoon characters with whom I was fleetingly familiar, but had discounted because they weren't as famous or prevalent as other characters. It has been a distinct pleasure, though some of the films are much better than others in the series, to reunite my eyes with Van Beuren's Tom and Jerry, the human tall guy and

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148920842408271642006-06-01T06:01:00.000-07:002006-06-01T23:14:33.806-07:00

I've mentioned before my lack of dancing ability. I tend to avoid hitting a dance floor at all costs, partially for the safety and the sanity of others, but mostly to save myself a little face. If will not expound on the stereotype of white guys that can't dance; suffice to say that I know plenty of white guys that can, and most of them are not gay, either (that we know of). I was never even near

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148920688437669792006-05-31T05:31:00.000-07:002006-06-01T19:20:05.433-07:00

I was going to speak about the changing definition of summer for me since I moved to a place where, if it is not sunny for just one day, people start seeing visions of four skeleton horses with riders galloping across the cloud-bedecked sky. I was also going to link the title of this cartoon to the Gershwin/Gershwin/Heyward song from Porgy and Bess, for while the show did not even exist as an

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148920574197230152006-05-30T05:30:00.000-07:002006-05-30T22:50:27.403-07:00

There are many things that occur very rarely, if at all, in the remote confines of Alaska. I am the first to point out how alike Alaska is to the rest of the country, and am often astounded when people don't even know that we have most of the basics of life as people have them elsewhere. It seems like a joke, but there are people in our midst who genuinely believe in the "living in igloos/driving

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148880633135331772006-05-29T05:29:00.000-07:002006-05-29T09:30:54.310-07:00

No, despite the old joke, this is not a song about Michael Jackson involved in illegal congress with his famous chimpanzee, though it's not hard to imagine such an activity. (Try scrubbing that image out of your head before you go to sleep tonight.) Rather, this is an old standard that the Fleischer brothers chose to bring to life in one of their famous Screen Songs, where the audience was

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148843986559122192006-05-28T11:55:00.000-07:002006-05-28T19:49:05.980-07:00

It should not be surprising that I love the Oz books by L. Frank Baum. There is not a point in my life where at least one volume of the books (even the later ones by John R. O'Neill or Ruth Plumly Thompson, all still enjoyable) was not at my immediate disposal. For many a year, I had heard about an animated version of The Wizard of Oz that predated the MGM musical version by six years, and that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148567814928919492006-05-27T06:57:00.000-07:002006-05-27T11:02:26.620-07:00

So, what do you do in 1979 when you don't have a VCR yet, and a special comes on HBO with an incredible band that drives you nuts? You take your portable audiocassette recorder, hold the microphone as steady as you can against the single television speaker and hope to heck that your brother doesn't talk while you are recording it. What is it? A comedy special, the name of which I can no longer

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148708536708963392006-05-26T19:02:00.000-07:002006-05-26T22:45:21.513-07:00

If you are one of those who did not like Disney's film version of Pirates of the Caribbean, you have to admit to one thing: at the very least, when they promised pirate ghosts, they gave you pirate ghosts. And even Scooby-Doo got it mostly right when he and the Mystery Machiners ran into pirate ghost problems; even though pirate ghost captain Redbeard turns out to be a normal creep in a disguise,

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148621176981191532006-05-25T20:33:00.000-07:002006-05-25T22:29:34.120-07:00

I will admit it from the start: I know very little about the Toonerville Trolley. Yes, I have a handful of Toonerville Folks comic strips tucked in the pages of a few volumes of assorted collections of classic comics gathered together by the likes of the Smithsonian and so forth. As the comic is only a one-panel affair, and I have so few examples, it is hard to get a true feel for Fontaine Fox's

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148193456625521242006-05-24T05:24:00.000-07:002006-05-24T22:07:31.613-07:00

It is a tale of mad science and of romantic obsession so twisted that it could easily star Peter Lorre (whose amazing Mad Love was filmed in the same year). Or its queasy mid-section regarding facial reconstructive surgery could easily be directed by David Cronenberg, had he any penchant for helming a film in which an eerie wall of detached faces come to life and break into an off-kilter musical

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148448787059472692006-05-23T22:32:00.000-07:002006-05-24T06:46:02.933-07:00

My uncle raises miniature horses, and while they don't come in the economical package that the steed in MGM's 1953 Barney Bear-Benny Burro team-up Half-Pint Palomino does, they were certainly much smaller than I had anticipated seeing when driving to his home in Olympia, WA. While we were trying to catch up on family business and small talk, two things of which I am usually unable to pull off

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148192887445986882006-05-22T05:22:00.000-07:002006-05-22T06:33:39.226-07:00

So, what sort of appeal does a small, cute burro character have on his own, away from the slightly more famous bear character with whom he was introduced to the cartoon world? If we are talking about Benny Burro, MGM's sweet-natured donkey, then the answer is: very little, outside of the fact that he is small and cute and makes the kiddies go "Awww!" in a empathetic way. So, does he have enough

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148151986187921512006-05-21T05:21:00.000-07:002006-05-22T06:34:41.196-07:00

Barney Bear films walk that fine line between tediousness and entertainment for me. MGM cartoons, for the bulk of the studio's run as a major animation studio, were produced at a very high-level of quality, and many of the films don't necessarily rely on a heavy quotient of laughs to be considered successful (i.e. Peace on Earth from 1939). Some of the later Barney Bears are laugh riots, but some

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146294650783260092006-05-20T05:20:00.000-07:002006-05-20T11:53:39.063-07:00

A friend at work, as a reaction to my declaration that I might be attending the Animation Archive's Columbia Krazy Kat exhibition of films this very afternoon, asked me a very honest and telling question: "Aren't cartoons from the 1930's boring?"By this, I took his meaning to convey that he believed all films from that period would just have to be a snoozefest, and I first said "Ah! I see that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148133926760617962006-05-19T05:19:00.001-07:002006-05-20T07:09:39.956-07:00

I am always suspicious of films where a character, generally in an attempt on the part of the filmmakers to prove the extent of their character's "special" charms or "unique" intellect to the audience, is introduced via a series of contraptions and devices that are all timed and lined up to show how together this person has their life. Most often employed in conjunction with their arousal from

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1148014871125306462006-05-18T19:39:00.000-07:002006-05-19T22:26:20.136-07:00

Boy, do I need to find a tailor. Not to fit a suit for me or anything major, but just to sew a button back on to my shirt. Apparently, I purchased what I thought to be a pretty nice shirt at the outlet malls, and it appears that the reason it was in the outlet malls was that they seemingly sewed its buttons on with candyfloss. Actually, what happened was the result of a desperation to keep from

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147757347229925552006-05-17T05:17:00.000-07:002006-05-17T23:18:32.116-07:00

Here's what I definitely do not understand about window washing: every freaking window-cleaning product on the market goes to great lengths to describe themselves as leaving "no streaks" or having a "streak-free shine". So, how come when I wash windows of any sort, using these very products, that I always see streaks after I am done? Even if I duplicate the exact manner or equipment that a

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147548204117489012006-05-16T05:16:00.000-07:002006-05-16T20:46:35.856-07:00

In all the times that I played pirate as a child, I'm not sure if I ever found any of our pretend lost treasures. No Terrance or Phillip, I was obsessed with sword-fighting in my youth, a process which we neighbor kids fulfilled by having a neverending supply of fireweed at our service. Pull a stalk out of the ground, snap off the end with the roots, slide your roughly hand up the stalk to remove

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147547871380387042006-05-15T05:15:00.000-07:002006-05-15T22:26:20.350-07:00

As I have mentioned before, I am not big on the whole fishing thing. I'm not so much anti-fishing, as I am anti-ME-fishing. Can't stand it, don't want to do it, don't even really want to be there. The problem is, in many key moments of my life, I have had to be there. Being raised in Alaska, fishing seems to occur around nearly every corner, at every point of the year, and many is the time I have

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147547729370111782006-05-14T05:14:00.000-07:002006-05-15T07:34:53.126-07:00

As anyone can tell you, and Jen will back this up with a very strong affirmation, I don't sleep very much. Or rather, I can't. Quite the opposite of my significant other, the slightest jostle or noise has me bolting upright from slumber, even at my most relaxed. Once I am awakened, if my brain connects with anything -- the TV, a pet, or the printing on any package, book or magazine -- outside of

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147492334358570302006-05-13T01:36:00.000-07:002006-05-13T01:37:21.023-07:00

Ah, the poor goldfish in the bowl. So immune to attack from above, and due to the spacial constrictions of its abode, left with very little room to manuever or plot one's escape. What is a little fish to do?Well, if you are the fish in Fin 'n Catty, a fun two-character exercise from Chuck Jones in 1943, you exploit the weakness of your adversary to the Nth degree, and don't let up until that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147321665510112072006-05-12T20:56:00.000-07:002006-05-12T20:38:16.613-07:00

Fish, outside of halibut, have nothing to fear from me. I've gone through my "keeping fish as a pet" phase, having inherited, through some means of indistinct origin, an unbelievably huge fish tank in the mid-1980's, and mainly through my own lack of interest, except in my strangely personable plecostomus, Quint, it soon became quite apparent that fish were not for me. I am solidly a cat-and-dog

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147131760908187892006-05-11T05:11:00.000-07:002006-05-11T06:34:57.376-07:00

"Sounds like the Envil Choritz by Rigid Vogna in beer flet." - Krazy Kat (as transcribed by Geo. Herrimann)No comic strip gets me revved up like Krazy Kat. Yes, I also highly revere Pogo, Little Nemo, Thimble Theatre, the early Peanuts, and Calvin and Hobbes (amongst others), but overall, Krazy Kat is the one. It is high art encased in the body of a "mere comic strip," and I never weary of

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147126276127320342006-05-10T05:10:00.000-07:002006-05-10T07:07:17.086-07:00

My brother and father are visiting my grandmothers in Wisconsin this very week, and I should be there with them. I had to beg out due mainly to a conflict with duties at work (and with money being a little tight at this moment); I probably could have gone for a day or two, but I certainly could not have stayed for the entire week as they are planning. I miss my grandmothers immensely, and would

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147109773074278782006-05-09T05:09:00.001-07:002006-05-09T23:22:17.396-07:00

I must admit to a certain fascination with Ted Eshbaugh. He almost seems to portray a total mystery to the world. IMDB only has the barest information on him, such as his birth and deathdates, and a listing of 5 films that he directed in the 1930's. At least one of those films is quite well-remembered, The Sunshine Makers, a favorite from the Van Beuren Studios that is not quickly forgotten by

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1147046780757532972006-05-08T05:08:00.000-07:002006-05-08T07:39:42.946-07:00

So, when is a blackface routine not a blackface routine? If the blackface routine is merely an impersonation of someone who is famous for doing a blackface routine, does that make it less painful or awkward to those not so inclined to favor such an act? Does that make it not so much a direct hit on an entire race, but more of a sideswipe? If the character doing the impersonation were to do the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146836182662760102006-05-07T05:07:00.000-07:002006-05-07T07:49:13.260-07:00

Am I the only person that is somewhat creeped out by kangaroos? I don't mean totally creeped out -- I actually like kangaroos as a species (or, rather, a great many species), and for the most part, they are cute and fun to watch. Speaking broadly, wallabies, tree kangaroos, grey kangaroos, etc.; they are incredible animals. I have no problem with them on a biological level. But, have you ever

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146839122531753332006-05-06T05:06:00.000-07:002006-05-06T10:20:39.533-07:00

I love cheese. I love cheese so much, I could be mistaken for a cartoon mouse (except for the whole "6-feet-tall" thing). I love loving cheese so much, that I even love Donna Reed saying "I love cheese." Cholesterol and fat-wise, it's perhaps not the best thing to eat in bulk, but since I despise milk, I figure cheese is the way to go for getting the same nutritional supplements that the milk

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146893552321580642006-05-05T20:03:00.000-07:002006-05-05T22:32:32.470-07:00

I never do a damn thing on Cinco de Mayo. OK, I did once, back in Anchorage with a group of friends, and we went for a subpar dinner at a passable Mexican restaurant. When I say subpar, I mean the food was subpar (there was something wrong with my order, but I let it pass); the company was just dandy. But, hardly any of us really knew what the hell we were celebrating. Like just about everyone in

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146751375634907192006-05-04T18:26:00.000-07:002006-05-12T19:13:06.543-07:00

It's funny how you can start a cartoon sometimes and end up somewhere you never expected that film to take you. Often, due to the title of the film and the opening setup, you can formulate a belief that you know exactly where that cartoon is going, and I would say about 9 times out of 10, you would be right on the money. But, then you hit a cartoon that delights in robbing you of those implied

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146627143157868542006-05-03T08:27:00.000-07:002006-05-03T22:48:13.140-07:00

I have a friend who likes to remind me that everything film that comes out is a "rip-off" of another film. Perhaps taking the concept of "nothing new under the sun" a little bit too far, any movie that comes out is ripe for his cynical attack; though, much of the time, he does it in a mocking fashion, fully aware of his own cliched statement. This would be fine if he had more knowledge of movie

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146448658265157642006-05-02T17:56:00.000-07:002006-05-02T07:17:33.676-07:00

So, I spend the last couple of days heaping light praise upon a much-neglected series like Van Beuren's Tom and Jerry shorts, and then I run into the film Plane Dumb, which accurately describes the actions of the filmmakers as they contrived to create this wannabe Amos N' Andy homage. Appparently, donning blackface not only helps disguise you when you roam about Africa, but it also lowers your

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146427335552663932006-05-01T00:53:00.000-07:002006-05-01T06:51:24.680-07:00

If you want to know what makes a memorable cartoon for me, my answer will often involve whether or not there is terrific music within the cartoon, whether sound cues, a persistent theme, or even throwaway song lines such as the ones that Daffy Duck and company were prone to jump into in Warner Bros. films. Even better, when music plays a major part in the plot of a film, not so much like in

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146294450763229682006-04-30T04:30:00.000-07:002006-04-30T08:57:59.626-07:00

Tom and Jerry? Aren't they a cat and a mouse? Well, the pairing of the names goes far back beyond the cartoon world -- I am not necessarily going to recount how here, but, in general, the names refer to a pair that fights, brawls and drinks together incessantly -- rest assured, there is another animated duo blessed with the same names, and while they are no match historically for MGM's famed

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1146287710619258122006-04-29T04:29:00.000-07:002006-04-29T01:04:10.240-07:00

Sure, you can read a lot into the title above. You can, for instance, wonder just what led Noah to the moment of his outing. Did he have something going with one of his sons on that cramped little ark, or was it a secret rendezvous on the poopdeck with the Brahma bull?Or, maybe it was just an innocent little outing on the water, trying to save life as he knows it from being wiped out by a

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145841269915632252006-04-28T04:28:00.000-07:002006-04-28T20:17:29.890-07:00

OK, it's not so much that I hate weddings. I do not begrudge anyone the opportunity to get married if that is what is important to them, though I do ask that young loving couples be a little sensible and not put themselves or their loved ones into a ridiculous amount of debt just so a pair of people can get laid "legally" later that evening. I find wedding culture nonsensical to the extreme, and

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145841028007631862006-04-27T04:27:00.000-07:002006-04-27T07:01:07.220-07:00

We all did stupid things as kids. Hell, I still do them today. They just tend to be of a slightly less self-destructive nature than when I was a kid, jumping out of trees, sledding through traffic, taking sharp downhill ess curves without bike brakes, and pushing bullies to their testing limits. The funny part is, I never broke so much as a single bone until I moved out of the house. Now, when I

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145840864504161282006-04-26T04:26:00.000-07:002006-04-26T06:26:38.063-07:00

"Birds are boring. It's like, 'Hell-lo! I'm a bird! I'm yelll-low!'" - Respectfully Anon. Unlike the person above, who shall remain nameless for reasons that only a handful of people need to know (but I will tell you who it is in person should our paths ever cross and only if you ask me -- but, prepare to be disappointed, for you'll not know the person), I do not find birds boring. Truth be told,

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145783537873166202006-04-25T04:25:00.000-07:002006-07-25T10:35:36.986-07:00

...to tell you this story...As I said yesterday, animators don't need to know the history behind something to continue on apace with a project. It might help if the subject you are lampooning or portraying has some sort of historical importance or is a current figure in the headlines; some good jokes can come out of even the simplest morsel of dogged research. But we are talking about nursery

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145783270787039212006-04-24T04:24:00.000-07:002006-04-23T23:51:35.306-07:00

I'm not going to get into the supposed and varied sources of the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty. There are enough places that already deal with the whys and wherefores and whats, and I feel as much need to make sense of it all as do the animators who have brought cartoon life to the character over the years. Cannons, kings, blah, blah, blah! This is all the information with which any of the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1139207258907265552006-04-23T04:23:00.000-07:002006-04-23T16:42:59.570-07:00

While all but three of the Popeye shorts and all of the films of the Betty Boop series that the Fleischer brothers produced were in black and white, Max and Dave did have a series explicitly designed to show off their creations in the glorious new color processes flooding the film medium. Since the series was called Color Classics, it had better do just such a thing as show it off. Outside of the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145424968791006612006-04-22T00:01:00.000-07:002006-04-21T23:54:41.320-07:00

It always seemed to me that the Ugly Duckling, actually a baby swan, didn't have it all that bad. Sure, compared to any baby duckling, he was homely; but he had enough going for him where, even with the mental abuse at the hands of his "siblings", he could at least compete physically with them. He could swim just as well, he could dive just as well; he was simply different in face and feather

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145543046382686612006-04-21T07:21:00.000-07:002006-04-21T20:04:25.956-07:00

Just how cute is too cute? Just how schmaltzy is too schmaltzy? These questions were apparently never considered when Fleischer Studios were cobbling together their ode to Depression-era depression, Somewhere In Dreamland. Rife with enough opening sadness to make you slit your wrists about 4 minutes into it, Dreamland features two cutesy-wootsy (with piercingly eerie black little eyes)

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145285205524328952006-04-20T07:20:00.000-07:002007-08-09T05:51:25.358-07:00

There are shots in Dancing On the Moon alone that make the entire Max Fleischer Color Classics series worthwhile. Long revered by cartoon fans for their unique visual depth, but top loaded with overly sentimental pap and cutesy pie characters, the Fleischer's desire to match Disney's Silly Symphonies led to stagnation in the story department, and there are very few films in the series that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145216008832827072006-04-19T04:19:00.000-07:002006-04-20T19:07:59.190-07:00

My friends know well my opinion on guns. I am normally fine with them as long as they are not around me. If one is in the room, I leave the room. It is that simple. I am not anti-gun; I am anti-people with guns. Give them to a bunch of creatures that have no opposable thumbs and a solid lack of evil intentions, and they end up being, oooohh... about 90% safe.I have many dear friends that

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145215669504484932006-04-18T04:18:00.000-07:002006-04-18T07:14:13.570-07:00

An elephant may never forget, but I never forget an elephant. Especially one that throws a rock at you...Zoologically speaking, as land animals go, nothing is more important to me than the survival of these amazing mammals. Like dolphins and whales, they are possessed of an intelligence and talents we haven't even begun to comprehend, and also like their cetacean cousins, they are in danger from

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145213995779812492006-04-17T04:17:00.000-07:002006-04-17T07:41:32.383-07:00

One of the most cherished books of my childhood was a collection of short stories written and illustrated by Johnny Gruelle, creator of Raggedy Ann and Andy. Now, the famous dolls only appear in the book as characters in a section on the ABC's; most of the book is dedicated to stories about bears, fairy wonderlands and toys come to life. I am really hard pressed to tell you the title of the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1145173504869625552006-04-16T00:43:00.000-07:002006-04-16T00:45:04.906-07:00

"I'm just a poor Cinderella Nobody loves me it seems And like a poor Cinderella I find my romance in dreams. For that's where I meet my Prince Charming When I'm with him, cares stay away I'm just a poor Cinderella But I'll be a princess someday!" I've said it before: in animated films, it's not always about the funny. Some people would have you believe that all "cartoons" have to be comedies,

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144650712600874362006-04-15T04:15:00.000-07:002006-04-15T01:05:46.243-07:00

So many people mention to me how annoying Sniffles the Mouse's voice can be, but I'm not sure if they are aware (or even care) that there is a film in the Sniffles series where he hardly says a word at all. In fact, he says exactly one word. I doubt that fact has anything to do with the lessened quality of Sniffles and the Bookworm (I believe that to be a rare case of muddled direction on the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144650569232507602006-04-14T04:14:00.000-07:002006-04-14T22:56:13.870-07:00

Here's the scenario: a cat sleeps comfortably by the fireplace, and as he slumbers, a small clothed mouse sneaks into the room, tiptoes stealthily up to the cat's face, and yanks a whisker sharply and painfully out of the cat's face!Mouse with a death wish? Mouse ghost with the ability to make itself tangible long enough to perform such a feat? Mighty Mouse? Or is it something totally unexpected,

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144650371992030512006-04-13T04:13:00.000-07:002006-04-12T22:57:20.493-07:00

Another mouse character; another picture called Naughty but Mice. This time the studio is not Warner Bros., but rather Famous Studios, home of Popeye, Casper the Friendly Ghost, and Little Audrey. This time, the mouse is not the adenoidal Sniffles, but is instead a pushy, Bronxian tough guy named Herman, who was most famously paired with a feline named Katnip. A clear cloning of the Tom-and-Jerry

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144649910072955022006-04-12T04:12:00.000-07:002006-04-12T07:47:15.486-07:00

I've hinted before that I have a bit of a jones for Chuck Jones' Sniffles the Mouse character. Sniffles was my early morning companion (along with Inki the Hunter) on many on a up-all-night marathon watching Anchorage, Alaska's late, lamented pre-Cartoon Network Cartoon Channel, a 24-hour UHF fixer-upper that held me transfixed for a few years in the late 80's. Mostly public domain cartoons, the

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144605173379765112006-04-11T04:11:00.000-07:002006-04-11T06:48:52.880-07:00

On a recent cover to Entertainment Weekly, there is a shot of Brandon Routh as the up and coming Man of Steel in this summer's undeniable sure-shot blockbuster, Superman Returns. Not knowing his acting at all, I have nothing but the brief scenes in the all-too-scant trailer and a handful of publicity shots to go by to determine whether he will be good, or rather, super in the role; in fact, I'm

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144553133821747082006-04-10T04:10:00.000-07:002006-04-10T21:25:59.123-07:00

I have never been within a crowd where something was flying directly overhead in the skies, and various people on the ground started pointing at it, and then started saying out loud what they thought it might be. Usually, if there is a bird or a plane up in the air, people are going to ignore it, unless it is either Rodan, a skywriter, or is about to crash. If it is Rodan, they are going to run

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144460965612049032006-04-09T04:09:00.000-07:002006-04-09T00:22:56.393-07:00

Just how mad is the mad scientist in Superman? Is it his megalomaniacal note, Unabomber style, to Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet newspaper? Is it the fact that it is the latest in a series of megalomaniacial notes, all Unabomber style, to Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet newspaper? Is it his threatening the city of Metropolis in the text of the latest letter with his "

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144390464001375302006-04-08T07:08:00.000-07:002006-04-19T10:50:16.676-07:00

Ah, snowstorms! How I don't miss them! I have made it through my first winter away from Alaska, and I didn't miss the snow and ice for one second. I'm sure that I will miss the snow eventually (my love of sledding is too intense), perhaps even as soon as this October, but I will never miss the ice. (A note to the Duke: it is one thing to not be afraid to fall on the ice, and I will forever be

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144298243727045612006-04-07T07:07:00.000-07:002006-04-06T22:53:46.213-07:00

If real goats ate all the things that goats do in the cartoons, we would have no refuse problem in the world at all. We'd have one hell of a lot of goat crap, which would lead to unprecedented levels of methane in the atmosphere, and probably an uptick in disease and death, but at least we wouldn't have all that junk laying about the place anymore. We'd trade one form of pollution for another.

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20404107.post-1144046851009720822006-04-06T07:06:00.000-07:002006-04-06T06:51:13.683-07:00

Polar bears at the Antarctic; penguins at the Arctic; dinosaurs in servitude to or trying to eat cavemen. Because the emphasis is on laughter, fun and cuteness in the cartoon industry, it's exceedingly rare that cartoon creators go to great, or any, lengths to get their facts straight. It's not important that one gets a geologic epoch correct, as long as the cartoon is funny. (Unless it is

Rik Todhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12903694670356107788noreply@blogger.com0