It's a Very Special Cel Bloc Xmas: Toyland Premiere (1934)

Toyland Premiere (Universal Cartune Classic, 1934)
Dir.: Walter Lantz
Animators: La Verne Harding, Lester Kline, Fred Kopietz, Bill Mason, and Manuel Moreno
Cel Bloc Rating: 6/9

I do have a small fondness for parades. Not a big love for them, but just enough of a fondness where if I hear one is going on, I would not be upset if it blocked my path for a while. I have taken part in many parades as well -- mostly for the Fourth of July -- thanks to my old theatre friends, who make it a point to join in on the fun on a regular basis whenever they are asked. (I have certainly taken part in many things I would not have normally because of them.)

As for holiday parades, well, I have only participated in a couple of those. I suppose that if I lived in a much bigger city like New York, I would probably at least attend something like the Macy's parade just to say I had seen it in person once. Growing up as a fan of the original version of Miracle on 34th Street, it is naturally an attractive idea to me, and I have always liked Macy's as well just because of that film (even though I have only shopped in Macy's just a very few times). 

So, how about a cartoon involving a similar parade, where Santa Claus is invited annually to lead the spectacle, along with his elves and reindeer, and delight thousands of children and their parents? Toyland Premiere is the film that fulfills this need, released in December 1934 by Walter Lantz, the future creator of Woody Woodpecker. Technically, Toyland Premiere is an Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoon, even if the character is only seen briefly in a few quick scenes and does little to nothing in the way of advancing the plot or fully taking part in the action.

Instead, Toyland Premiere is focused mainly on the character of Santa Claus, the one from the North Pole with the sleigh and the presents and the reindeer and the "Ho Ho Ho". You know... that guy (the one we mentioned just a paragraph ago). After we, the viewers, enter through the gates of Toyland, his presumed home in this film, we see an elven creature dressed in a telegram delivery uniform running as quickly as he can without tripping fully over his long, white beard. (He does stumble here and there.) He yells, "Telegram for Santa! Telegram for Santa!" over and over as he runs.

When we first spy Santa, he is not what we have come to expect. He is sitting on a low stool, clad in bright blue overalls and a matching cap, and also wearing what I presume to be the requisite red under-garments beneath the overalls. He is adding tails to a series of toy horse so slowly, that I can only believe that I can only surmise that he delivered presents to only 452 children that year. (Not the most efficient guy...)

The Western Union telegram reads, "MY DEAR SANTA WE ARE READY FOR YOUR BIG TOYLAND PREMIER PARADE STOP HAVE ARRANGED A RECEPTION AT CITY DEPT STORY" and is signed simply, "OSWALD". Santa immediately laughs heartily, and tells his entire squadron of elves, "Get ready, boys, for our big show!" The elves respond in unison, "OK, Santa! Here we go!"

The elves start dressing themselves as a team in preparation, with two elves holding a costume open while a third elf jumps inside. One elf, much smaller than the rest, is dwarfed by his outfit and ends up running hard with his head into a nearby post. Santa is seen opening a decorative storage box held shut with a ribbon, and we assume he is going to retrieve his famous costume from within it. However, when he pops the lid, scores of moths fly out, and his costume has been rendered down to a single, small, tattered remnant. As he holds it up sadly, a single moth returns to pull the remnant from Santa's grip and take it away from him.

Santa returns to the low stool, puts his head in his hands, and begins to weep. "Woe is me! Woe is me!" When he explains to the concerned elves that he can't lead the parade without his suit, they jump into action. They fill a Flit gun (look it up, kids) with red paint and then spray his blue overalls until this match his red under-garments. They string a bunch of popping corn (unpopped, so that needle must be amazing), and then wrap it around his prodigious waist and his cuffs. They hold a match to the string and the popcorn pops instantly all around Santa, giving him a white sash like he had on his original coat. When Santa stands up to inspect their handiwork, another elf runs up with a paintbrush to cover the area where he had been seated on the stool in red as well. (Technically, we never see him finish painting the tiny blue hold in the photo to the right.)

Trumpeters sound the clarion, and as Santa, his minions, and a series of giant balloons march out of Toyland to make their way to the big city, we hear some female voices sing these words...

"One day in every year,
Ol' Santa takes a rest,
and leads the big balloon parade
dressed in his very best!

He leaves his Arctic palace,
and drives off in his sleigh
to tell the population that
the toys are on display!"

As they sing, we see huge clown, pig, and penguin balloons, and then we see the entire procession flying off over the Arctic mountains. To the slightly modified tune of Jingle Bells, we see Santa fly down to the streets of the city followed by his parade. Then, as he slides along in his sleigh and is covered by confetti from the crowds, the original song resumes...

"He calls on ev'ry city
in ev'ry land and clime
so all the boys and girls will know
it's almost Christmas time!

The people on the street
have come from far and near
to follow Santa to the store
and see the toy premiere!"

As the parade passes before us, we see more of the giant balloons he has brought, including Mother Goose, a very fat baker, what looks to be Humpty Dumpty in a fine suit, and a truly wicked-looking clown. Elves leap about and perform acrobatics, and a float is shown with seals balancing balls on their noses, while other elves spin about on top of the balls. The song continues as we are shown more elf acrobats and jugglers.

"See the dwarfs, funny-men,
each one is a clown.
They cause a lot of laughter as
they travel through the town."

For He's A Jolly Good Fellow is then heard as more balloons amble down the street to the corner where the City Department Store sits. Santa is greeted by the 1934 Universal version of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, who has been scrubbed of his rougher elements, and is now pretty indistinguishable from many of the other Mickey clones of the era. (Keep in mind that he started out as the original Disney character, and was only replaced by Disney and Ub Iwerks with Mickey when Oswald was stolen from them.) "Welcome, Santa Claus!" says Oswald, and then he leads Santa to a curtain. When it is pulled back, the Toy Department is revealed, and in front of it is a banquet table featuring many stars of the day.

"Meet the gang, Santa!" says Oswald, and we then get closeups of each celebrity at the table. Johnny Weissmuller is first, though it seems as if one of the animators really hated Maureen O'Sullivan. (While her caricature isn't too bad at first, she seems more like Joan Crawford later in the film.) Johnny, dressed and acting as Tarzan of course, says in broken English, "Me... like you!" and points at Santa. Shirley Temple, standing on the table, greets the jolly old elf, and then Laurel and Hardy do a little fancy tipping of their bowler hats in unison. 

Eddie Cantor, completely in blackface, makes a few of his signature lip-popping noises (or that at least served as a signature when he was being lampooned by others) and waves, while Boris Karloff dressed as the Frankenstein Monster sits silent and glaring to his left. Next is Bing Crosby, who greets Santa with a "Howdy-do-doo-do-doo-do" in singsong fashion. He then starts to whistle, and we realize quickly that it is not Crosby's voice at all when he begins singing. The song is picked up by Temple and Cantor (though not their real voices), and the lyrics, sung to what sounds a very modified version of Makin' Whoopee, are:

"Hear what we want this Christmas season!" [Crosby]

"I want a drum, a ____op (??)
A hobby horse, a lollipop
A little tu-hoon
that I can croo-hoon
Will make me happy!" [Temple]

"I want a doll with eyes of blue
and golden curls and dimples too!
One of those dollies
that's in the Follies
Will make me happy!" [Cantor]

As they sing, Oswald is switching the colors on the spotlight from red to blue for Shirley's song, and then, naturally, to black for Cantor, so that only his lips and eyes show up on the stage. Laurel and Hardy have gotten up from the table during the show, and eyeing a giant cake with criminal intent. When Hardy tries to take a cherry from the middle of the cake, he is slapped by a butter knife that is held by Boris Karloff. He screams, "Scram!!" at the pair, and they head for the hills. Running into the Costume Department, they happen upon a large dragon costume, and after doing some small bits of usual Laurel and Hardy schtick, Ollie whispers a plan into Stan's ear.

Santa is elated at the reception. "I thank you for this party from the bottom of my heart," he declares. "So here's a toast to Oswald! Now let the party start!" (This is the last moment that we actually see Oswald in the picture, not even at the ending.) Meanwhile, Laurel and Hardy are seen approaching the party again, this time dressed in the dragon costume. They happen upon a blowtorch and put it inside the dragon's mouth to use as a flame. When they walk up to the table, Weissmuller faints dead away, and O'Sullivan is left to protect her onscreen beau. She picks up her Tarzan around the waist and leaps up to the ceiling, where she swings from chandelier to chandelier while opening her mouth to ridiculous proportions to scream out her take on the Tarzan jungle yell. 

The dragon walks up to the table and everyone else hides. They make an attempt at the delicious cake, but they are blocked yet again by Karloff, who makes them scram by simply saying, "Booooo!" They run away, but end up getting wrapped around one of the floor columns and crashing into each other. A lamp fixture falls and smacks them on the heads, causing starts to swirl about them. Santa crawls out from under the table and sees who has been causing the mischief. He pulls out a bugle and produces a call to arms.

Toy soldiers leap out of boxes to join the fight, while tanks, mounted horsemen, dirigibles, and planes head towards Laurel and Hardy. The planes swoop the pair, still in the dragon costume, relentlessly and they trip all over themselves trying to escape. Jack in the Boxes spring up to use peashooters on them, and when the third Jack's attempt is spoiled, he snaps his fingers as if to say, "Nerts!" Toy soldiers mount a machine gun on a roller skate and fire on Laurel and Hardy. When the pair get trapped, the soldiers hop on tubes of paint and squirt them in the faces.

Santa laughs at this, and he too gets hit with paint, but he laughs it off and says, "This is more fun!" Santa picks up a pie from the dessert table and throws it into Ollie's face. Toy indians use a girdle as a makeshift bow and shoot arrows in Stan and Ollie's rears. They jump over the table and wave a white flag to announce their surrender. Everyone crawls out from the under the table and rejoins the party, while the elves and toys cheer around them. Santa sits down and makes an announcement. "Let's make a wish! Then we will all partake of this delicious chocolate cake!" Santa blows on the candles, but the cake rocks back and forth, and then with his final blow... well. We assume the cake splats Laurel and Hardy with full force, covering them in chocolate, but this is unseen in the only available version, which is an edited reissue print of the film, so we can only guess at the actual reaction of the comedians to the splatting. Regardless, the camera cuts back to Santa, who exclaims "Oh, boy! Some fun!" Then he laughs uproariously one last time. Iris out.

At nearly nine minutes long, Toyland Premiere sometimes doesn't seem to end, which wouldn't be a problem if the cartoon was funnier or sharper. Of course, if it was funnier and sharper, there is all the likelihood that it would have been cut down by a couple of minutes for the sake of timing. However, as a Christmas cartoon, this one has a lot of spunk and is guided solely by the spirit of frivolity. The opening scenes in Toyland with Santa and his elves (or dwarfs, as they are referred to here) are lovely, with some marvelous, detailed background work throughout the picture, but especially here. The entire cartoon is exceedingly colorful, though it's a whole lot of blue and red, since it is only 2-strip Technicolor being 1934 and all. (At some points, like with the spotlight scene, it almost feels like it is meant as a commercial for 2-strip Technicolor.)

The celebrity cameos are hit and miss, with the scene where O'Sullivan rescues Weissmuller as my favorite part of the show, and the Temple and Crosby caricatures being the least successful in my opinion. Laurel and Hardy are generally turned nicely, and one would hope so since they dominate the celebrity portion as far as screen time in concerned. 

As for the parade in the film, it looks exactly like the sort of grand time that I would hope to have at a Christmas parade. It also makes me a little bit more jealous that I have never been to one of the real, big city parades that had giant balloons on display. Floats are OK, depending on the theme and design, so they run hot and cold with me, and apart from marching bands (which are always swell), most music in parades tends to be lip-synced, so that is not an attraction to me at all. But balloons of popular cartoon or fairy tale characters and creatures ten stories high? Always a thing with me. They are definitely my favorite element of the Thanksgiving parades when I watch them on TV, and it would be grand to see them in person. 

Now that I have thought about it for a bit, Jen and I practically live at Disneyland, but we rarely take in one of the parades. When we were there last week with our friends from Canada (who until very recently lived here), the only part of the Christmas parade we watched was one that we were practically forced to see. We were trying to cross from Tomorrowland to Frontierland through the Town Square area, and we suddenly had several Pixar characters, including the plastic army men, blocking our path for several minutes. For whatever reason, the gap between portions where they allow those uninterested in the parade to pass through seemed longer than usual to me. It seemed like the section we were seeing was caught in slow motion. As the not particularly hot sun was shining down only on the spot where we were waiting and my eyes were not handling the brightness very well, my patience was rather tested. For once, my Oswald hoodie that I almost never wear up over my head found itself fulfilling its purpose. So I guess what I said earlier about not being bothered in the least if a parade crossed my path was utter b.s., because I got just a little bit pissy about the wait. 

Of course, the section of Christmas parade we got stuck watching was utterly boring, and the Pixar characters were nowhere near as engaging as they are in the excellent Pixar Play Parade in Disney's California Adventure. (5-4-3-2... Fun!) And we also didn't get to see a section that had Santa Claus in it (still not sure if there is one), and frankly, apart from giant balloons, Santa's the most important part of any holiday parade.

I guess watching Toyland Premiere again and again certainly got my holiday spirit revved up, if only a little. I got Santa Claus. I got giant balloons. I got Frankenstein's Monster, Laurel and Hardy, and Tarzan. And I got a wee bit of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. That is a pretty packed Christmas stocking. Thanks, Santa (and Walter Lantz)!

And in case you haven't seen it: Toyland Premiere (1934) is available on the Woody Woodpecker and Friends Classic Cartoon Collection, Vol. 1, still in print as of 12/5/15. It also can be seen here and there on the internet, though it tends to come and go and the quality varies. Good luck!

Countdown to Halloween: Hair-Raising Hare (1946)

Hair-Raising Hare (1946)
Dir: Chuck Jones
Story: Tedd Pierce
TC4P Rating: 8/9

“Did’ja ever have the feelin’ you was bein’ watched?” 

Bugs Bunny asks this question near the beginning of Hair-Raising Hare, a marvelous Warner Bros. horror spoof directed in 1946 by Charles M. “Chuck” Jones, and it is hard in this day, nearly sixty years later, not to yell back at the screen, “Of course, you moron!” With the omnipresence of social media, cameras on every cell phone, surveillance cameras on every street corner and inside every business, apparent government taps on everything we do, drone technology, and your goddamn nosy neighbors, it is no surprise that we seem to have become both the most narcissistic culture in history, and also the most paranoid. Are you being watched? Don’t worry about it… just give ‘em a good show.

Bugs does give us a good show in Hair-Raising Hare, and he may have gotten the feeling I was watching him a bit too much as this cartoon was replayed over and over again in the late ‘80s on the UHF all-cartoon channel in my hometown of Anchorage, Alaska. I am pretty certain that I did not encounter this particular cartoon until then, as I do not have a recollection of it from the old Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Saturday morning shows of my youth (my only source of Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies in those days). Just like I could count on a block of Sniffles or Inki cartoons nearly every day, Hair-Raising Hare almways seemed to be on the channel, and if it wasn't on, it would show up just when I needed it, as I was growing ever more fascinated with the film’s massive, orange, hairy monster. Of course, we now know that creature as Gossamer, but at the time, without an internet to consult, I was only working with the information provided in the short, so I knew him only by the name that is written on the big metal door that contains him: “Monster”.

Hair-Raising Hare sets the proper mood from the start, with a wicked-looking title card composed of a green and black background, yellow “scary” lettering, leering, slight-crossed eyes, and a pair of menacing, clawed hands. (The hair on the back of the hands is a nice touch too.) Carl Stalling’s score plays a big part here too, as the music is very minimal, but the quivering strings build into a couple of quick jolts to establish a nicely sinister mood.

As the camera pans across a darkened forest landscape, Bugs lightens that mood slightly with his always delightful singing. As the camera ultimately rests upon his ubiquitous rabbit hole, Bugs sings offscreen: 

“Goodnight, sweet dreams

Tomorrow’s a-nudder day

Till then, sweet dreams, sweetheart!”

Suddenly, a beam of light forms a column straight up and out of the hole into the nighttime air. Bugs pops halfway out wearing a nightcap and corresponding shirt, and bearing a candleholder. “Eh, I dunno, but did’ja ever have the feelin’ you was bein’ watched?” he asks of the audience, immediately breaking the fourth wall as he so often does. My adoration of Bugs is based greatly on this connection between he and the audience, in the same way that I gravitated towards one of Bugs’ models, Groucho Marx, as a youth (and much later, the “earlier, funnier” Woody Allen). The attraction was that they were talking directly to me, and I responded by aping their every characteristic for the remainder of my life.

After the rabbit asks his question, we suddenly see that Bugs is actually being watched (as he suspected) on a television monitor (called the Televisor), where the controls are being manipulated by a pair of hands clad in red rubber gloves. The camera cuts to a mad scientist who bears about a 98% similarity to the famous actor, Peter Lorre (and star of many Warner Bros. productions of the time). The scientist asks, “Being watched, he says?” The voice is not that of Lorre, but of Mel Blanc doing his version of Lorre (a little bit off, but that may be intentional). 

From behind a nearby door marked “Monster” (as mentioned above) comes a vicious and frantic growling, as the door appears to be getting bashed from inside. “Patience little one,” the scientist says to soothe the monster. “Your dinner will soon be here. A nice tender little rabbit.” As the Lorre stand-in speaks, he builds a robot from the parts out of a box on the floor that reads “One Mechanical Rabbit Lure” (everything but the "ACME"). The parts form a clockwork rabbit in a red dress with a shapely woman’s figure and large windup key on her back. The scientist pats the robot bunny on the bottom and sends her on her way.

Cut back to Bugs still halfway out his hole holding the candle aloft. “You know, I could’ve sworn I was being watched. Yeah, but I guess it was just my imagination.” As he speaks, the female robot bunny zigzags her way up to Bugs from behind, and then departs. Bugs is about to give up for the night, says “Well —!”, and starts to dart down into his hole, seemingly never having seen the robot girl. But we are talking affairs of the heart here, and Bugs shoots back up out the hole with a very quizzical look on his face. And then he is up and into his Groucho stance, following the girl up a long hill with a ominous castle at the top bearing a neon sign above its door that flashes the phrase “Evil Scientist” repeatedly. 

Bugs enters the castle (some excellent use of angles in this scene and many other shots in this film), but the scientist is lying in wait, and slams the giant wooden door shut, barring it, bolting it, and locking it in quick succession. Bugs comes back to tell him, “You don’t need to lock that door, Mac! I don’t wanna leave!” Ever the cad, his eyes roll back to the audience, where he gives a knowing double-click of his tongue, and zips back to his would-be love prize. When he reaches the girl robot, he yells “Bay-bee!” and starts to kiss her, first on the fingertips, the hand, the forearm, and then up her whole arm. But when he reaches her neck, he starts to rattle and shake, her head spins, and she explodes into a dozen parts! Bugs is perturbed, and says “Dat’s the trouble wit’ some dames. Kiss ‘em and they fly apart!”

Bugs is no fool, though. He knows enough to skedaddle out of there once the pickings are slim. He makes to head for the door, but the mad scientist blocks his way, pushing him backward across a couple of rooms by the shoulders as Bugs continues trying to walking forward. “Uh, just a minute. I have another little friend who’d like to eat — uh, meet you.” Bugs, still wearing hot pants for the girl, is excited to hear this, and switches places with the scientist, pushing him backward by the shoulders instead. “Another friend?” Bugs asks. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…” Bugs continues to say this until he pushes the scientist all the way to the iron door marked “Monster,” which causes whatever is inside to roar. Bugs jumps at the noise, and wraps himself around the head and body of the mad scientist. “Your — friend?” he asks, and the Lorre-doc says mildly, “Yes.” Bugs grabs the scientist’s hand and shakes it frantically, saying “Well… Goodbye!” California, Here I Come is played on the soundtrack as Bugs walks to a dresser across the room (with a broken vanity mirror), opens a suitcase, pulls clothes out of all three drawers and packs them in the suitcase, grabs an oversized hat from a hatrack, and a bag full of golf clubs, and makes his way back to the scientist, where he turns Groucho again for a line. “And don’t think it hasn’t been a little slice of heaven… because it hasn’t!” Bugs then departs swiftly, shedding the hat, clubs and suitcase, but when he reaches the barred door, he can’t open it.

In the meantime, the monster has been released. He is incredible tall, has an body almost entirely covered in thick, orange fur except for a pair of basketball sneakers, and has a nearly heart-shaped head much larger than the rest of his body. His only facial features are a pair of eyes and a smile that, much like his arms, tends to disappear except for when there is an expressed purpose for it. He stomps his way across the room to Bugs, who is too busy tugging on the door to notice. Bugs turns around suddenly, and the unflappable rabbit is already prepared to deal with this menace to his life. “Here, you look like a strong, healthy boy,” he says cheerfully to the monster. “Gimme a hand!” The monster just growls, and the camera cuts to Bugs’ reaction to the threat, which consists of a series of facial contortions and holding up a pair of signs for the audience to read. The first reads “Yipe!” in fairly small letters given the size of the sign, and then a second one reading “YIPE!” in letters that take up the entire sign. Bugs faints to the floor, lets go of the sign and waves to the audience as he does, and the sign finally drops.

Bugs recovers and bolts down the hallway with the orange monster in hot pursuit. He runs smack into the door, and then chuckles, telling the audience, “Heh heh heh… forgot to open the door!” (Not my favorite gag, I might add.) He then goes through properly and shuts it behind him, with the monster bashing the door from the other side. Breathlessly, Bugs asks “Is there a doctor in the house?” and he is answered right away as the fourth wall continues to take a beating as well. A well-groomed, shadowy figure pops up from the audience at the bottom of the screen, and tells Bugs, “I’m a doctor!” With the monster still straining to get through the door, Bugs doesn’t waste a second to turn around and face the audience with his traditional carrot in hand, and say “Eh, what’s up, Doc?” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes off just as the monster crashes through the door.

Bugs whips past a large mirror in a hallway, and after the monster passes it initially, he turns back to look into the mirror. The monster’s reflection stares back at him, screams desperately, jumps into the air and turns tail to run. The monster looks back at the audience, shrugs his shoulders and hands, and then darts after Bugs once again.

Bugs runs up a flight of stairs, but then runs back down just in time to run straight into the monster and knock him down. As Bugs stands on his chest, he points back and says, “Don’t go up there! It’s dark!” and zips off. The monster next encounters Bugs disguised with a lampshade and switch on his hand. The monster seems skeptical, and lifts the shade. Bugs has a pair of lightbulbs, one in each ear, and so the monster pulls the switch. The lights come on, and the camera cuts to a closeup of the monster rubbing his chin with his finger trying to make sense of things. When the monster looks up, Bugs is dancing away, still dressed as the lamp, to the tune of Shuffle Off to Buffalo. He then makes like a ballerina briefly, with the lampshade in use as a tutu, and then volts off with his usual quickness.

Bugs, ever in charge of the chase, whistles down the monster to get his attention. “Hey! Frankenstein!” and points to get the creature moving in the proper direction. But the tables get turned quickly. A large trap door opens up in front of the rabbit, and Bugs skids to a stop on the very edge of a large pit, kicking a small rock to the water at the bottom to show how far he could have fallen. Bugs prays to whatever god cartoon rabbits pretend to worship, and tiptoes backward away from the edge, only to run into the monster again, with his giant hands full of yellow and black fingernails ready to crush Bugs.

This leads into the most famous part of the cartoon. With a disapproving finger waving in the air, Bugs cries, “Oh, for shame! Just look at your fingernails!” The monster blinks his eyes in confusion as he peers down at his hands. A quick tornado, and suddenly Bugs and the monster are both seated at a small table, where Bugs is busy filing the monster’s claws and making with the salon small talk. In an affected voice, Bugs leads off with “My, I bet you monsters lead in-ter-est-ing lives! I said to my girlfriends just the other day, ‘Gee, I bet monsters are in-ter-est-ing,’ I said. The places you must go and the things you must see. My stars! And I’ll bet you meet a lot of in-ter-est-ing people too. I’m always in-ter-est-ed in meeting in-ter-est-ing people.” Bugs finishes the manicure, and says in a singsong voice, “Now, let’s dip our paddies in the waaa-ter!” The monster complies, placing each paw in a bowl of liquid, but is only rewarded with the stinging snap of dual mousetraps, one on each hand. The monster cries pitifully at the pain, as Bugs makes his escape.

Pausing at the top of a stairway beneath a painting, Bugs swiftly realizes that the eyes of the character in Renaissance dress are following him back and forth. Without warning, Bugs turns and pokes his fingers into the eyes. Bugs splits, and the painting drops to reveal the monster holding his face in pain. He jumps out of the hole in the wall and stops at the next painting, where Bugs is dressed in similar garb to the first painting. When the monster moves to poke Bugs' eyes in the same way, Bugs sticks his fingers out and pokes the monster there first. The monster jumps through the painting to the other side of the wall, but Bugs jumps back out. He tiptoes down the hall, and it is clear the monster is matching his steps from the other side of the wall. After more steps, Bugs comes to a clear spot on the wall. He picks up a hammer, taps it on the wall like you would while looking for a wall stud to hang a picture, marks the spot with a big, black X, and then pulls out a sledgehammer. He smacks the wall as hard as he can, and a crack slowly forms the outline of the monster’s body. The outline falls down from the wall, and then the big, heart-shaped creature falls through it.

Bugs is triumphant. He exclaims, “And so, having disposed of the monster, exit the hero through the front door, stage right!” He launches into his Groucho walk once more, and wiggling his eyebrows, he adds, “None the worse for his harrowing experience!” When he turns the corner, he is shocked to see a suit of armor in the hallway, standing as if on display (and even on a stand) but with the monster clearly jam-packed into it so tightly that tufts of orange fur are seen poking out of it everywhere. (It's kind of adorable, as is Gossamer at several points in this film.) His orange hands are holding an axe above his head, and straining with anticipation over landing a blow to the head of his prey. Bugs chuckles quietly, and leaves briefly, only to come back mounted on a gigantic steed, where Bugs runs the thing like a train engineer as he blows a whistle while resting in the armhole of a suit of armor, ready to joust with the monster. The monster’s head pokes out of the top of his armor in fear, and Bugs hits him so hard that he splats against the far wall, and lands on the floor inside a small tin can bearing his likeness and the name “Canned Monster”.

Bugs, triumphant again, proclaims, “And so, having re-disposed of the monster, exit our hero through the front door, stage right!” Bugs sings his Heading for My Bedding song briefly, but as he walks, he mistakes the monster for a rug, and the monster reaches up to grab Bugs by the throat. Through the crushing fingers, Bugs croaks out, “Wait a minute, Dracula! Did you ever have the feeling you’re being watched? That the eyes of strange, eerie things are upon you?” The monster actually seems to muse on this for a second, and then Bugs adds, “Look, out there in the audience!” The monster turns and his face becomes one of sheer fright. “PEOPLE!” he screams, and turns around and crashes through an unending series of walls to escape the bane of his — and my — existence.

Bugs begins to assume that the third time is a charm, and announces boldly, “And so, having re-re-disposed of the monster…” but he is distracted by the reappearance of the hot girl robot bunny, that has been mysteriously rebuilt (the scientist did sort of disappear in this film, so maybe...) As she parades around, he tries to continue. “Exit our hero…!” but she is just too much for him. “Mechanical,” he says pointing his thumb at her, just as she kisses him on the cheek. “Well! So, it’s mechanical!” he yells, and turns to follow her out, walking like a robot bunny. THE END.

Hair-Raising Hare never gets old for me, even after watching it several times in one morning to write this piece. It may be due to the Halloween spirit in which I have invested myself greatly in relaunching both of my blogs in the past month, as I tend to be more partial to films with horror or monster themes. But today I also rewatched the second film to feature the Gossamer character battling Bugs, 1952’s Water, Water Every Hare (also directed by Jones), and it did not fare quite as well with me. Though I like it, I am disappointed by that short’s mad scientist (done more in the Karloff style, though a good deal shorter than the Lorre knockoff), and it starts to careen into the cutesier Jones material that comes off too sugary for me (at times).

I was disappointed in finding out there were so few films featuring the Gossamer character (just the two in the Golden Age) once I finally got to see one of his films. I suppose he would be hard to adapt to a lot of material, so perhaps it was best they kept him to the horror spoofs they did. That doesn't mean they haven't employed him a lot in recent years, where he has made cameos in a wide variety of TV shows, specials and new shorts using the old characters. He has become more popular in the last twenty years than he was in the studio's creative heyday, and I would have to admit that I am part of that fanbase, even if I haven't purchased any toys or stuffed dolls yet. 

Besides how would he react to being owned by a "people"? I don't think my walls could handle the pressure.

RTJ

Hollywood Steps Out (1941)

Hollywood Steps Out (Warner Bros., 1941)
Dir: Fred "Tex" Avery
Cel Bloc Rating: 7/9

Near the end of his tenure at Warner Bros., before he was fired over the ending of The Heckling Hare, Fred "Tex" Avery upped the ante on the Hollywood caricature/cameo picture with Hollywood Steps Out in 1941. This is actually the film in this sub-genre that I have seen the most, due to its inclusion in the roster of the long defunct (and far preceding Turner's Cartoon Network) Cartoon Channel, which played on the UHF band in Anchorage, AK around 1987-89. (The dates are not precise as it is hard to find information on the channel, though I do remember it being on when I was first married, and it was also the reason my late beloved pup Blip was named so, because of the constant reruns of Space Ghost that were offered up on the station.) Hollywood Steps Out was shown often due to its have fallen into the public domain at that time, along with a host of other Warner Bros. cartoons such as the incredible Book Revue (Review) with the Danny Kaye-esque Daffy Duck jitterbugging with Little Red Riding Hood.

However, it was shown with numerous cuts, and now when I watch the film on the Looney Tunes Golden Collection DVDs (or as I did recently on Cartoon Alley on TCM), I see several moments that I don't remember ever seeing in its earlier incarnation. Not that any sort of mild censure would do much harm to the gag content of this cartoon: the film is fairly bursting with quality moments, all built off of the marvelous caricature work of Ben Shenkman, who previously did the lampooning designs in Friz Freleng's Malibu Beach Party (1940). But where that rather enjoyable (and personal favorite) film was still somewhat low-key in its approach, Avery's later attempt at the genre goes full-bore in its loving attack on Hollywood cult of personality. There are no fewer than 44 clear cameos built into this picture, and they unceasingly pile on top of each other until the supposedly still-incomplete ending. (There are rumors that a scene at the tail end of the film where Gable wiggles his ears at a transvestic Groucho Marx was considered a bit too risqué and was unceremoniously cut at the last minute.)

Practically the entire picture is set to a conga beat, and even the spotlights arcing over the streets of Hollywood get into the act as the fun begins on the floor of Ciro's, the famous L.A. nightspot. Cary Grant asks cigarette girl Greta Garbo for a light, which she strikes off of her enormous shoe. Johnny Weissmuller hands his evening coat to a hot coat-check girl, revealing his Tarzan outfit underneath. James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart and George Raft seem to planning some sort of nefarious caper, but then it turns into a game of penny pitching, with the tough mugs behaving more like little kids. Harpo gives Garbo a hotfoot, and her only response is an extremely unenthusiastic "Ow."

Master of Ceremonies Bing Crosby (continually bothered by a jockey and his horse, a visual reminder of his notorious gambling tendencies) introduces Maestro Leopold Stokowski (a nod to Disney?) who breaks his orchestra into... another conga? James Stewart is brilliantly portrayed battling temptation from a sarong clad Dorothy Lamour. Too hot for Mr. Stewart as she steps onto the dance floor, she causes him to rush from the table, leaving a sign stating "Mr. Smith Went to Washington" on the tabletop. And, of course, Avery's running gag with Gable dancing/chasing the beautiful blonde (a disguised Groucho, for whatever reason. He also did this in The CooCoo Nut Grove) about the room pretty much constitutes the only "plot" that the film possesses, but who cares?

When Sally Strand (actually Rand) performs her bubble dance, the film goes crazy as Avery marks another step in the evolution of his Red Hot Riding Hood character at MGM. The girl strips/dances, and all the men turn into wolves (but not literally, like they would at MGM, though they start out as wolves in those pictures). The professorial Kay Kyser sees her Ms. "Strand", yells to his "Students!" and behind him are William Powell, Spencer Tracy, Douglas Fairbanks, Errol Flynn, Wallace Berry and C. Aubrey Smith, whistling and yelling "Baby!" Peter Lorre (in my favorite moment in the film) is also enraptured by the dance, but strangely, not by the seemingly nude girl. Dreamily, he offers "I haven't seen such a beautiful bubble since I was a child!" The monotone and crabby Ned Sparks (!) asks a table with Boris Karloff, Arthur Treacher, Buster Keaton and Mischa Auer if they are having a good time, to which they reply with a stone-faced and similarly monotoned "Yes." Harpo eventually slingshots the bubble, revealing Ms. Strand clad in suspenders and strategically placed barrel.

All this, and I haven't even mentioned Edward G. Robinson, Ann Sheridan, Tyrone Power, Sonja Henie, Frankenstein's Monster, the Three Stooges, Oliver Hardy, Cesar Romero, Mickey Rooney, Judy Garland, Lewis Stone (as Judge Hardy, whom Rooney implores to help pay for the $50 dinner. They both end up washing dishes... to the conga beat, of course), Henry Fonda ("Coming, mother!"), J. Edgar Hoover, Jerry Colonna (with binoculars, sitting next to the invisible Yahoodi). Also, there is a gag involving empty tables where the names and differently sized seating arrangements of Bette Davis, Kate Smith and the Bumstead family are invoked; furthermore, a cameo by Warner Bros. producer Leon Schlesinger and his assistant Henry Binder is augmented by the familiar Looney Tunes theme. I'm sure that I have missed someone (I'm still not sure with whom Romero is dancing), but I'm also sure that I will be returning to Ciro's quite often over the years, so I should have plenty of occasion to learn who I have left out.

[Editor's note: The text and photos for this article were updated on 10/30/2015.]