Bunny Mooning (1937)

Bunny Mooning (A Max Fleischer Color Classic, 1937)
Dir.: Dave Fleischer
Animation: Edward Nolan and Myron Waldman
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

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 it is one of many traditions of which I would be just as happy to not be invited. You're getting married? Great... now, wear a condom or have your nuts jarred in formaldehyde after the first couple of brats. Let's not be popping young out like friggin' bunnies.

Speaking of bunnies and weddings, there is a Max Fleischer Color Classic cartoon called Bunny Mooning, and though nowadays one would hope that such a title would be offered up on the Playboy Channel (does that piece of crap station still actually get viewers?), as this film was released in 1937, it is most likely going to actually have something to do with bunnies of the fur-bearing, twitchy-nosed, and hoppy-legged type. And if you think cute little bunnies holding a wedding are going to get me change my mind regarding the damnable events, then you've obviously been smoking the baby's breath, Cheech.

This is what you get when a bunny is your friend: cuteness unhindered by any rational thought. On a giant moonlit mushroom, a bunny boy cuddles with a bunny girl, and offers her a 1-karat ring, which is actually a carrot on a ring, which she accepts. I assume that it is about twelve grueling, money-draining, nerve-wracking, ball-tightening, wits-ending months later, but soon every hand belonging to every animal in the forest is grabbing cutesy invitations (I wonder who did the printing? Note: Need to check on that...) from a stack of leaves hanging from a tree. They read: "WEDDING: Jill and Jack Rabbit will be married in the Woods at Tree O'Clock. This will Leaf you in." Ah, isn't that punny and sweet? (Note regarding the note before: Need to check with that printer to commend him on this.)

Soon, a song begins as the animals of the forest — and judging from the wide array of African animals on display, I would guess that the Dark Continent would be the location, but it does nothing to explain the moose that we meet in a little while, so it is more likely it is a general Animal Land type of fantasia — make their preparations for the party:

"Everybody's getting
ready for the wedding!
Oh, they're so excited!
Everybody's getting
ready for the wedding!
They've all been invited!"

(There are more lyrics, but I couldn't care less about figuring them out or writing them down...)

We first see a barber pole in front of a shop, where the winding stripe on the pole is provided courtesy of an employed snake, or a series of employed snakes, since the pattern repeats over and over again. Inside the shop, an elderly ostrich buzzes short the quills on a fussy porcupine; a lion (in a striped shirt that gives it the partial look of a tiger) has its razor-sharp claws honed down on a grinding wheel; and the aforementioned moose asks for a "poi'menent" whereupon hot curlers are dropped on her antlers and, when raised, tight little curls decorate the ends of each point. (She may be a deer, but her face is more like a moose's, as is her rack, but the problem there is that female moose do not grow racks.) Other animals about the forest prepare themselves to look their best, too: a hippo applies makeup to her face, using a paintbrush to coat her mouth with a generous dollop of lipstick, and then puckers up to complete her mission; a crocodile brushes the sharp teeth making up his infamous smile; and a well-bred giraffe affixes his spats and tab collar, though when he fixes his tie, several other successively smaller collars pop about to cover the length of his neck.

Mr. Bunny calls his beloved to tell her that it's "tree o'clock", and he does this by dropping a coin in an elephant's trunk, and then the pachyderm opens his mouth to reveal the telephone. His intended tells him she is ready, though she actually has a couple final adjustments to make. She puts on her false eyelashes, and then her stereotypical black maid of a bunny fusses with her headpiece. The bride complains about the length, and her maid proclaims, "Don't worry, honey! I'll fix dat!" and she snips the offending piece in half with the aid of her ears, which shear the fabric like scissors, while the maid chuckles. Mr. Bunny arrives to escort her, and the happy pair skip and "la-la-la" their way to the ceremony. (So much for not seeing the bride before the nuptials.)

The guests have already arrived, and there is a great array of gifts set out on incredibly long tables, with about fifty or sixty of the gifts being several sizes of baby chairs. (Hmm... I wonder why? What could they possibly be implying about bunnies here?) A hippo carves a slice out of a cake, and then eats the rest of the cake instead. Mr. Cow tries to dip into the punchbowl (which is most likely spiked with something), but Mrs. Cow catches him and angrily "cows" him with "Mmmmm-ox!" (I guess his name is Max? Or would the cow equivalent be Mox?) A monkey grinding a music box with his tail accompanies a chicken who clucks the wedding music, and the resulting cacophony brings tears to the eyes of the bride's mother. At the close of the song, Mr. Cow takes another try at getting some punch, but is again thwarted by his “butter” half. (Yes, my own pun is clearly intended...)

The peacock minister takes the stage to perform the ceremony, and a monkey uses his tail to play The Bridal Chorus on a row of bluebells growing in a flower box behind him. A choir joins him in the brief section of song as the bunny betrothed jitter their way down the aisle to a slightly more swinging groove. The minister then speeds them through the reading, and finally, the bunnies kiss (cutely, of course). The wedding is over, but not without a word from our sponsor! The peacock turns around and displays, instead of his usual feathery glory, an advertisement reading "BUY BABY BLOOMERS AT BIMBLE'S BASEMENT"! (Apparently, these bunnies are going to be very, very busy...)

Like most weddings, this one also leaves me cold. Sure, I guess that I feel happy for the couple, but why did I need to be here? If it were a little jazzier or a tad more swinging, I would probably have a better time with Bunny Mooning. Cuteness is as cuteness does, and sometimes it is merely the theme that determines whether I am willing to go along with a too cute premise. I had no problem at all with the honeymooning and far livelier and grittier (though still cute) couples in Fleischer's Dancing on the Moon [reviewed here], so don't think that I am just using this cartoon as a connubial punching bag. It's just that Bunny Mooning, except for a handful of amusing moments (I especially enjoy the barber shop series, and the giraffe is swell, too), the show is just a little too underwhelming to hold my interest in repeated viewings.

As for my pronounced despising of weddings? It's not so much weddings, but parties in general that I tend to not enjoy as much as other people. I am better in groups of four, five or six people; larger parties, I tend to wander off (I don't know why!), find a quiet spot, perhaps write a little in a notebook, and if I can find someone off adopting a similar non-social attitude, I will have a nice conversation with them. But the party itself? Not my thing, people. Even with my best friends surrounding me (more on this in a second), you will notice me eventually drifting off from the group at large, and finding a quieter place to disengage myself from the proceedings. This happens at Halloween parties (purportedly my favorite, which they are), Christmas, Thanksgiving, and even cast parties, of which I have been to far too many to count, and even in the ones where I am involved in the setup, I will eventually lose myself, often going home at the earliest possible convenience.

In late July, Jen and I have to fly to Texas for the wedding of our very close pal Bubba. (Yes, I know a "Bubba", but it's a nickname, not a birth name. The boy has even posted on here.) I may hate weddings and I may hate Texas and I may not relish the thought of going there in July, but I'm going to the wedding. It's Bubba. He's one of my closest pals; he's one of my brothers; he's part of my gang. Sure, I've groused a lot about having to go, but it's the same way that I complain about everything in life. At work, I am given impossible projects, and I yell and bitch and throw things... and then I figure out how to get it done. It's just the breed of cat that I am. So, I will be at Bubba's wedding. Brothers stick together, and I am proud that he finally cracked down and finished grad school, got a great job, and met a swell girl. As long as she's good by him, I'm all for his getting hitched. But, there will be a point in the wedding when I will just disappear for a good chunk of the time. It's the way that I am.

As the Mighty Mighty Bosstones said, "I guess I really don't know how to party..."

[This article was updated with new photos and edited on 11/24/2015.]

Dancing on the Moon (1935)

Dancing on the Moon (A Max Fleischer Color Classic, 1935) 
Dir.: Max Fleischer
Animators: Roland Crandall; Seymour Kneitel
Cel Bloc Rating: 8/9

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 Fleischers’ desire to match Disney's Silly Symphonies led to stagnation in the story department, and there are very few films in the series that actually approach the self-described "Classics" label. But everyone has their favorites in the series; I can quickly name three that I have adored for years, not so much because they are technically perfect cartoons in all categories, but merely because they are terrific (sometimes scary) fun and have held up for me over the years: Cobweb Hotel, Small Fry, and the 1935 film I am discussing here, Dancing on the Moon.

And as I said, there are shots that sum up that magical genre of science-fiction fantasy equally as well as any major film in the same genre. I'm not speaking of the “science” in so-called “science fiction”; I am talking about the fiction part: that dreamlike fantasy element that makes us eager to journey with Flash Gordon in his wobbling tin ship to battle evil galactic emperors; that causes us to wish we could leap a half mile into the clouds like John Carter on Barsoom; and which makes us long to catch a rocket and fly to the moon, just like the honeymooning couples in this film. Maybe Georges Méliès got to the place first cinematically in Le Voyage dans la Lune (A Voyage to the Moon) in 1902, but I have long felt that several of the scenes in Dancing are equally as memorable, if not also equally unlikely in conception.

The very first shot in the film is one of those memorable images. It is not a drawing of a rocketship, but rather one of the Fleischer Studio's ingeniously constructed three-dimensional props, which is mounted on a ramp pointing towards the skies. It is a dark and beautiful moonlit night, which is a good thing, since the moon is exactly where this rocket is heading, and it is supremely fortuitous to have a destination with itself as guide. The rocket is exactly the sort of vehicle one should wish to have for a trip like this, not that it could actually make it to the moon in reality, but, because this is a fantasy journey, it is the space-fantasy ideal of a Luna-bound rocketship. It is therefore perfectly suited to take the romantic-minded there, as well.

While the ship is festooned with signs offering a "Honeymoon Express to the Moon" and "Tonight - Dancing on the Moon - One Dollar Per Couple,” the leonine pilot, resplendent in captain's hat and coat, steps out of the side-hatch and sings his pitch to the couples with voice a-roaring and delightfully (like much of the singing in this film) off-key:

"Dancing on the Moon,
Your girl in your arms!
Far away from all the crowds,
Up above the silvery clouds!”

Then a line made up of willing couples strolls along toward the ship, gaily sing the second verse:

“Dancing on the Moon
With you in my arms!
Flying through the little stars,
Venus, Jupiter and Mars!"

The bridge to the song arrives courtesy of a recently wed bovine couple, who clutch each other lovingly as they croon:

"We'll soon be on the milky way,
Please don't hesitate
To close your eyes and sway
We're going to the pearly gates!"

A pair of adorably rotund penguins waddle up to finish the tune:

"Dancing on the Moon,
With you in my arms!
And our hearts will hum a tune
When we're dancing on the moon!"

Captain Lion greets each couple as they enter the ship. After pairs of honeymooning seals, elephants, and the just introduced penguins climb in, we are shown a frantically hurrying alleycat couple, who are obviously worried about making the ship on time. The tomcat practically drags his beauteous mate through the air behind him by the arm. There is a cut back to the ship, and after the giraffe and bear couples enter, the captain climbs in and the door starts to close behind him. The cats scurry through the darkness, desperate to catch the rocket, and when the door is nearly closed on the vessel, the groom leaps inside just in time, his hand still clutching the paw of his beloved, who dangles above the ground. The ship shoots up the ramp, the groom cat's grip slips, and his new wife is left on the Earth, angry and grousing at her mate. He promises "I'll be back soon, Wifey!”

It is in the ride through space that the film truly fulfills its fanciful promise. A shot through a portal in the rocket's nose allows us a spectacular, nearly 3D head-on view of the moon, with the cat pacing about sadly in the foreground, that I feel is the equal of many similar shots in more famous live science-fiction films. As the little cat plays a pitiful and lonely game of solitaire, the numerous couples snuggle and cuddle on a series of couches, and in the case of Mr. and Mrs. Love-bug, kiss each other shyly.

I haven't mentioned the fact that there is no mention of the lack of gravity in space, and it seems a silly thing to mention, when the animals next stick their heads out of the portholes on the ship, and therefore, break a handful of other scientific laws in the process. Who wants to worry about a body-exploding vacuum when you are on your honeymoon? Unless you are Tom Savini, no one does, and so, just do away with the glass on those windows from the start, and the laws of science will just have to adjust accordingly.

The animal couples stick their heads out into space and sing the title song again, this time only the second verse (with a slight variation in the first line) and the bridge. When they mention the various wonders of space, we see Venus, Jupiter, and Mars, with statuary of their representative gods displayed on their surfaces; likewise, as they sing of the Milky Way, a line of stars and cows drifts through the heavens. At last, the moon is fast approaching, and from the nose of the ship we get a P.O.V. shot with the moon dead ahead. As the ship prepares to land, a face appears on the surface of the moon and cheerfully greets the vessel with a very Kate Smith-like "Hello, everybody!"

When the ship finally lands, the couples head eagerly past a sign reading "Honeymoon Lane" leading into a wonderland of heart-shaped arches. The now stag groom cat mopes his way over to a moon-rock and sits down, bemoaning his loneliness and missing his beloved. The couples all find individual roosts in which to pitch woo to each other. The seals say “Kootchie kootchie koo!" to each other, and slap each other playfully; however, the slaps get harder and more competitive each time, and the cooed endearments harsher and meaner, until at last, Mrs. Seal wallops her mate hard enough to send him backwards onto the ground.

The giraffes wrap their necks about each other, and at the base of his wife's neck, Mr. Giraffe points out that "This is a good spot for necking!" (Oh, how shocking! My, my...) His wife's voice purrs out like Mae West and bids him to "Come up and see me sometime," which he does, and they do indeed neck with each other. Elsewhere, the cow playfully rings her bell each time that her bull plants one on her lips.

Mr. Bear launches into another verse of the theme song, as he waltzes about with his beloved. She picks up the second line, and then both complete the verse in tandem:

"Sway to the rhythm of my heartbeat!
There is nothing quite so heavenly
as the stars above
to a pair that's so in love!*
Honey, I just seem to be..."

Then, all of the couples join the bears in singing the first two verses of the song again, and they all dance hand in hand, revolving in time across the surface of the moon. Their dance leads them back towards the ship, but as they do, the sad little groom alleycat (who just moments before was entertaining himself with a game of cat's cradle) does a modified shuffle during a swell trombone solo, while spinning about almost in slow motion. (On a commentary on the Somewhere in Dreamland DVD, animation historian Jerry Beck mentions that it is probably the first version of Michael Jackson's "moonwalk" dance, and he is probably right). All of the animals climb aboard the ship for the return trip to earth, and the ship sputters its way into the void and leaves one magnificently filmed 3D orb for another. The ship lands, and the participants are greeted by a flying line of storks, each carrying a baby animal in a bundle.

It is this point where we get confirmation that "dancing on the moon" means far more than just actual dancing upon the moon, and makes it clear that the Fleischer boys apparently must have caught a previous rocket trip to the Planet of the Ribald Euphemisms. It turns out that "dancing on the moon" is somewhat akin to the old "submarine races" line on Happy Days; only here, once you "dance on the moon," you are greeted with a bawling child on your return from the heavens. The elephants receive a pachyderm child, as does each animal couple, etc. All except Mr. Alleycat, who is told "No!" by the stork, because after all, the cat was making like Billy Idol and only dancing with himself, and that is no way to end up with a kid. Mrs. Alleyat is not happy with this, either, and she pummels her husband on his return as the film fades out.

This film is truly endearing, and only those with the hardest hearts can resist its charms. While I am notorious amongst my friends as a hater of weddings, I have no problems with the act of marriage (for I am a great believer in romance); likewise, while I despise the crazed baby culture in which we seem to exist and on which we dote, I have nothing against those who wish to sensibly bring a reasonable amount of offspring into the world. So, it's all cuteness and light, filled with an enjoyable 1930s tune with a catchy refrain (which has sunk into my head for the last week), and some deep and memorable shots of rocketship fantasy gone mushily romantic. Sigh...

(This is the point where my girlfriend will remind me of how much of what a 13-year-old girl I can be...)

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it:

*Update 8/9/07: I initially asked for help with this line, as after about 6,000 rewinds (figuratively), it still made little sense to me. Barliesque and I had a conversation about it in the comments, where he thanked me for helping him with his own transcription, and where he recommended a solution to the "stars above" line. I had erroneously placed an exclamation point at the end of the preceding line, which made the following one make no sense to me. I have changed it according to his line of thought. Thanks, Barliesque! - RTJ]

[Note: This article was updated on 12/26/15 with a couple of text changes and new photos. Also, the girlfriend I mention in the text is now my wife. Though we will not be “Dancing on the Moon,” at least not to create the results shown in this film. And she still delights in reminding that, from time to time, I am a 13-year-old girl.]

Swing Wedding (1937)

Swing Wedding (MGM, 1937)
Dir: Hugh Harman
TC4P Rating: 6/9

The craziest, jivin'-est swamp wedding that ever happened, suffused with a jazzy swing style far removed from the usual gentle antics and cutesy animals associated with most of the MGM Harman-Ising pictures (even Peace on Earth, with its still creepy and shocking war imagery, is built around a church full of huggable, cute-talking animals). No "Froggy Went A-Courtin'," this frog wedding is attended by a combination of what could be considered racist black stereotypes and caricatures of popular black stars of the 1930's: Louis Armstrong, Cab Calloway, Stepin Fetchit, Fats Waller, Ethel Waters, and Bill "Bojangles" Robinson. (There are no actual credits for the performers, so I assume impressionists do the voices, though Cab's character sounds remarkably like the real Calloway.)

The music varies from minstrel show antics to big band swing, there is energy to spare in the animation, and on the top of it, the film is enjoyable as a musical triviality. On the bottom of it is the questionable racism inherent in any film from this period when dealing with black characters. It might be somewhat easier to take if one of the main characters wasn't the groom, who is portrayed as a Fetchit figure, and inhabits the screen for a good portion of the film, all slack-jawed and sleepy-eyed. It seems for much of the film that, except for the intrusion of an occasional out-and-out stereotype, it is no more patently offensive than, say, Cabin in the Sky.

But then one of the frog musicians, in a band that destroys itself in what can only be assumed is a drugged frenzy, takes a trumpet valve that looks remarkably like a syringe and injects himself with it. To say that my bottom jaw soon found room and board on the carpet is to put it mildly. It's not just the assumption that any black jazz musician would have to be on drugs. Cab Calloway sang often of marijuana and cocaine, and Louis Jordan once sang "I'm a goofball user and a chick abuser." White musicians, let alone actors and others in the entertainment world, were equally adept at narcotic addiction, though you would never see a studio-released cartoon showing someone in Glenn Miller's very Caucasian band jabbing himself with an instrument-derived hypodermic like one of the frogs does in this film.

I am against censorship in any form, and I believe that films of this type should not be repressed, whether they are filled with supposedly "harmful" and derogatory images. Instead, when they are exposed to audiences, they should be put in their proper context of history and circumstance. I ran into Swing Wedding this morning (and on three separate occasions in the last year) on TCM as mere filler between movies, sadly without Ben Mankiewicz or Robert Osborne providing any sort of counterpoint to the cartoon. They should be more careful. Showing a cartoon like this without such explanation is just asking for trouble. Plus, as the film does have some redeeming historical value in it, however filled with questionable images, we don't need another piece of animation history to disappear.

[Editor's note: The text and photos for this article were updated on 10/28/2015.]