It's A Very Special Cel Bloc Xmas: Santa's Surprise (1947)

Santa's Surprise (A Paramount/Famous Noveltoon, 1947)
Dir.: Seymour Kneitel
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

And just what are you getting dear ol' Santa Claus for Christmas? After all, he's going out of his way for you, and what are you planning to give him in return? Milk and cookies again? Have you even considered that he might be either lactose intolerant or have a terrible time with gluten? He's also a pretty hefty guy. What if he has the diabetes?

I'm sorry, but these things simply must be asked these days. Sure, Santa Claus is flying wildly around the entire globe in a single night, giving out presents all willy-nilly, but you can be sure he has kept his records up on you, and knows about your vinyl allergy or that time you shoved a Lego up your own nose when you were seven and couldn't get it out for a fortnight. The guy does his research -- he has a whole year to prepare -- and it doesn't mean you can just crack open a bag of Chips Ahoy and pour out some 2% into a glass without finding out whether your actions might have some serious medical consequences for the guy. Be a little more considerate of your elders, especially when they have been around for several hundreds of years. We don't get a lot of those anymore.

Little Audrey cares. Oh, sure... over the next few years, she is going to come down with some serious problems in her cartoon series such as a nasty sugar addiction, harming little animals, attention deficit disorder, and bringing a major drought to the land simply from her wishing. And dreaming... the girl has some seriously, crazy-ass dreams. I think she has tapped into another dimension entirely built of weird fantasy worlds -- some of them nightmarish -- and she seems to get stuck in one those dreamworlds nearly every other picture. Little Audrey is nothing if not tapped in fully to her neuroses.

But in her very first picture for Famous Studios, Santa's Surprise from 1947, she is just a caring, lovable good girl. Sure, she goes a little overboard with her caring and runs away with a bunch of other little kids to the North Pole, but she is a good girl nonetheless. She had better be good, because this cartoon is all about Santa as he winds down from his annual Christmas sprint. After a warm and cozy credit sequence filled with images of a Christmas tree, cards, and presents, we see the silhouette of a very familiar sleigh pulled by reindeer across the shining moon. Santa Claus is singing from the very moment we see him in close up:

"Every once a year,
when Christmas comes,
I pack my sled 
with dolls and drums.
And I'm on my way with happiness
for little girls and boys!"

We see Santa and his reindeer fly down through a landscape filled with windmills, signifying his arrival in Holland. Inside a home, we see Santa's shadow as he fills a stocking, and crawling out from under the bed is a small, smiling, blonde-haired boy. Off on his way to the next stop, Santa continues his song:

"Oh, there isn't any
place too far.
I go wherever 
children are.
Always on my way with happiness
wrapped up in fancy toys!"

Santa next arrives in China, and while he fills the next stocking, he is scrutinized by a small Chinese boy watching Santa's reflection in a mirror. The song continues as the reindeer fly:

"On my Christmas list,
I have many names and places!"

The reindeer chime in as a chorus:

"Though we've never seen their faces,
we know each one and the good they've done!"

In a big American city, Santa fills the stockings in another home. This time, there are names for each stocking hanging from the mantle: "Mom," "Pop," and "Little Audrey". As Santa fills up Audrey's, he realizes that the toys are falling through the bottom of the stocking, but then sees there is a waiting basket collecting everything, and he chuckles warmly. The camera pans to the other side of the room, where Audrey is pretending to sleep, sneaking open one eye to check on Santa's progress. Just as he starts to leave, Santa suddenly discovers he has forgotten one stocking, that of a mouse who peeks out of his mousehole, standing next to a tiny blue sock on a nail. As Santa leans down to place a wedge of cheese in the sock, the mouse hides. Returning to his sleigh, Santa sings once more:

"Over hill and dale,
again this year,
I brought glad tidings
and good cheer!
So until another Christmas day
when I pay another call,
I say Merry Christmas to all!"

On the last line, Santa's sleigh is seen from outer space, circling the globe to reach the North Pole, sticking high out of the earth at the top. We see Santa's mailbox, empty for the moment, and the jolly old elf climbs out of his sleigh wearily. Inside his workshop, he catches the collar of his coat purposefully on a hook and allows it to slide off of him as he stumbles forward. Now dressed in his nightshirt and cap, Santa tucks himself into his bed and yawns. Sitting up suddenly, he looks into the mirror on his vanity table and tells his reflection, "Merry Christmas!" and lays back down to sleep.

As Santa starts to snore loudly, blowing the ball of his nightcap up as he does, the scene cuts to outside his workshop, where Little Audrey peeks out from under a cover on the sleigh. She says, "Hey, kids! I betcha he's asleep now, I betcha!" From inside the workshop, we see seven hands rubbing the snow off the window outside to peer in at Santa Claus asleep in his bed. We see the faces of seven children of different races and nationalities through the holes in the frost. The camera scans the room and shows that Santa has made quite the mess in preparation for the holidays.

Outside, Little Audrey stands in the middle of the kids and says sadly, "I feel sorry for Santa!" A small black boy agrees with her, adding, "Yeah, man! He's sho' tired and worn!" The little Dutch boy we met briefly before agrees, as does a small Hawaiian girl wearing only a lei and a grass skirt. (Damn! That girl has got to be freezing... plus, she's barefoot at the North Pole.) The Chinese boy says, "Him clothes very black like an [indecipherable]!," the first sign that his part in this will include the stereotypical nod to Chinese doing the laundry. A Russian boy with a fur cap agrees with "Da! Da!" and a Spanish girl says "Si, si! He helps everyone at Christmas, but no one they think of Santa Claus." It hits Audrey that what they should do is tidy up Santa's house to help him out for a change, and the entire United Nations of Stowaway Brats agrees.

The kids creep quietly into Santa's abode, each one carefully matching the previous one's tiptoeing across the threshold. But a clomping noise at the end of the line is heard, and everyone shushes the little Dutch boy, who is seen wearing a pair of wooden clogs for shoes. He clomps again once they restart, and after shushing from the group, he points at his feet. Audrey runs forward with the solution, and ties a pillow underneath each clog. He struts forward proudly, saying, "Ja! Danke!" and then blindly walks into a vase on a small table. The crash is loud, and the kids scatter at the noise, but Santa is still clinging fiercely to his snoring rest.

The camera cuts to each child in their hiding places: Audrey in Santa's hanging coat, the Chinese boy inside some long underwear pouring out of a laundry hamper (there's that theme again), the Russian boy inside the mouth of a bear rug, the Hawaiian girl in front of broom so all she had to do was bend over and hide her head so her skirt would look like the broom bristles, the Spanish girl inside a large stein, the African-American boy inside of a pair of Santa's boots (wait for the racist pay off on this later), and the Dutch boy inside the speaker of a phonograph. The Dutch boy tries to step out of the speaker backwards and ends up switching on the phonograph by mistake. He spins wildly on the turntable while a super-speeded up version of Jingle Bells plays faster and faster. Audrey switches off the phonograph, and the Dutch slows to a stop, and a closeup of his face show his eyes still doing laps on the inside of his head.

Audrey tells everyone that Santa is asleep, and as she starts to dust a goldfish bowl (and the fish inside it, which makes him very happy), Audrey sings:

"Oh, we wanna do something for Santa!

We wanna make a real big fuss!
We wanna do something for Santa

'cause he's always doin' something for us!"

As the Spanish girl cleans a pot in the kitchen, she adds (in slightly broken English):

"I'll polish pans that have rusted,

give every one shiny face."

The Hawaiian girl brushes dust and dirt across the floor with her skirt and hula movements, singing:

"I'll see that the furniture's dusted

and in its proper place!"

The Russian kid, with brushes attached to his boots, does a traditional dance with his arms folded as he kicks his way across the soapy floor, and sings:

"I'll scrub the floor all clean and neat,

no spot will test my [??]. [rhymes with "why"]

And the African-American kid shines Santa's boots, which are held in place with the legs from a chair, and adds:

"I'll shine his shoes with a boogie beat

and here's the reason why."

Audrey is standing on a stool in front of the sink, with her back to the camera while she is washing dishes. She continues the song:

"Oh, we know we owe much to Santa,

for making every Christmas gay!

We wanna do something for Santa..."

Audrey whips the clean dishes up in the air, and the camera swings up to show the Dutch boy perched atop the door of the cupboard. He has a stack of dishes already piled up to his face in his left hand, and as he attempts to catch the newly flung dish, he adds to Audrey's line:

"-- and in our little vay,

t'ank him for der happiness

dat came our vay!"

The weight of the plates in his arms is too heavy and makes them drop down low, but Audrey (unseen) flings a tea cup into the air. The Dutch boy goes to grab it, but unthinkingly lets go of the stack of plates when he does. He is successful in catching the cup, but a loud crash is heard. He pretends that nothing has happened, his eyes peering upward as if here were a little angel, polishes the cup on his shirt, and hangs it in the cupboard with a nonchalant whistle.

In the laundry room, the Chinese boy is seen with an ironing board, which the Hawaiian and Spanish girls use like a seesaw, causing the hot iron to run back and forth over each piece of laundry the Chinese boy places on it. The Russian boy is tying the arms of each shirt in Santa's wardrobe together so that they snake continuously through the mangle of the washbasin. Unfortunately, the noisemaking Dutch boy gets caught in the knot of one of the shirts and is pulled through as well. He flies out the washbasin and onto their seesawing ironing board, and the iron promptly burns his biscuits good. The burning send him flying away again, yowling in pain and heading for the outside, where he sits his bottom down in the cooling snow with a great look of relief on his face. When he stands up, the spot where he was sitting is bereft of snow, and a daisy springs to life in his place.

The kids are next seen working as a group and using a pulley to winch Santa above his bed inside a sheet so they can make the bed. They all sing:

"Oh, we know we owe much to Santa

for making every Christmas gay!

We wanna do something for Santa

and in our little way,

thank him for the happiness

that came our way!"

The girls make the bed (of course) while the boys hold Santa aloft above them. The bed made, the boys start to lose their grip on the rope, and when Santa starts to shift and moan, the rope gives way, the Dutch boy flies up to the ceiling, and Santa crashes down on the bed. Somehow, he remains asleep, and the Dutch boy jumps down and clomps his way out of the house and slams the door. The slam finally wakes up Santa with a start, and after he rubs his eyes, he sees a Christmas tree with holiday greetings on it in each language of the children in the group.

From outside, the kids yell, "Merry Christmas, Santa!" and the camera zooms in on a single present under the tree. "A present? For me" says the jolly old elf, and when he opens it, he is seen holding a music box. When he winds it, the faces of each kid in the group pass by a window in the box. There is a note attached with a calendar marking Christmas for the next year, and written above the date of the 25th is "Santa Don't Forget Us Next Year". Santa laughs merrily. Iris out.

No attention at all is paid to the fact that now Santa has to either magic these kids back to their homes, or more likely, shuttle them back via sleigh, making everyone freak out because he has already made his rounds for the year. So, they did do something for Santa after all: wear himself and his reindeer out even more after they have already gone tens of thousands of miles in a single night. Surely he has enslaved elves that can do his washing and cleaning. Stupid kids.

This film never met a stereotype about any race or country that it didn't look square in the face and say, "We're doing it anyway!" The main concern is the then standard attitude towards non-white races. While it is nice that film tries to give us a well-rounded cast and the children all seem like immediate best friends, the Chinese boy does laundry and sneaks about suspiciously even while doing what the rest of the children are doing. The black kid is a shoeshine boy and talks like he is out of Amos and Andy. Its all meant to be cute and good clean fun for children, but at the time, these were some of the only impressions most of the country saw in popular entertainment of people who were different from the status quo in America. (And I realize the costuming is a shorthand for saying, "This person is from this specific land". That's also stereotyping, but that's not what I'm discussing here.)

Santa's Surprise is directed one of the two Famous Studios mainstays, Seymour Kneitel (the other being Izzy Sparber), and the animation here is about par for the course for a Famous product. It was rare that they pushed any boundaries, and remained tied to the formulas set for each of their fairly rigid series. Each Herman and Katnip, each Popeye, and especially each Casper the Friendly Ghost cartoon were barely distinguishable from the next. The same goes for Little Audrey for the most part, but they did get some truly bizarre moments tucked away inside that formula in her films, such as in the absolutely nuts addiction tale, Butterscotch and Soda (see my piece on that strange film here).

And at the start of Audrey's career, in this film, she is introduced as a good and kind girl in a Christmas movie. You cannot get more saccharine than that, and this is where the problem lies. I said at the beginning of this article that you have to be careful what you give Santa these days. Are you trying to give that fat old man sugar shock, Little Audrey?

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it:

It's a Very Special Cel Bloc Xmas: The Shanty Where Santy Claus Lives (1933)

The Shanty Where Santy Claus Lives (Warner Bros. Merrie Melodies, 1933)
Dir: Rudolf Ising
Animation: Norm Blackburn and Rollin Hamilton
Music: Frank Marsales
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

Christmas has come to mean so little to me over the last few years. I loved it as a kid, maintained that fire through the teenage years (though naturally I rebelled against it a small bit, though presents have a way of snuffing out rebel passion), and then built my Xmas love higher and higher into a true bonfire that raged throughout my twenties and thirties, when I was engaged in a non-stop parade of Christmas delights spearheaded by my large group of theatrically focused friends. Tree decorating, candle-lighting ceremonies, caroling through the neighborhood, putting on Christmas-themed shows for kids, going to other Christmas shows, annual Christmas parties, late night get-togethers on Christmas Eve (at times), meeting back up with everyone for a Christmas night movie, and then continuing that festive mood straight through the week until our annual New Year's Eve party. My closest friends -- a mix of several religions (and then my complete lack of it) -- know how to do things right by the holiday, and practically exhaust themselves in trying to make everyone have as good a time as they are. Though I was often left breathless myself, I always enjoyed being a part of their holiday plans.

Since leaving Alaska and the snow and the cold in December for Southern California, no holidays have been the same for me, but especially Christmas. My love for the holiday has always been purely secular, but I am open to the whole experience. As an atheist, I don't get into that pagan garbage either (it is equally as tied to ancient belief as Christianity), but at Christmas time (or Xmas or whatever you want to call it), all bets are off for the season. I sing along with Silent Night or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer equally. I like hearing people read the story of the Nativity, even if I don't believe four-fifths of the story or especially think it bears any true significance. Even though I own the specials on DVD now, I like watching A Charlie Brown Christmas and Frosty the Snowman on TV for the 1,438th time each. I enjoy believing, if only for a fortnight or two, that a world that otherwise insists on fat-shaming, "three strikes" policies, and practically wrapping their precious offspring in bubble wrap to protect them from boo-boos is just fine with an obese guy in a red suit breaking into their homes in the middle of the night to leave presents for their children. Sure, I can play make-believe the way everyone else does the rest of the year.

But Southern California has eaten me up and spit me out. So Cal has left me so low, and has devoured much of the joy I had left in me. Even in my current situation, where we have moved into a much larger house that we are sharing with Jen's family, my situation is no better. I am having a hard time finding a decent job, and though I have a massive amount of time to write, I am going stir crazy in the place. I miss my friends and family, and while I love my wife deeply, each Christmas season has brought with it a little bit more erosion in my regards for the holiday. And the world in general does not help with that mood. 

I get enraged when people start decorating for Christmas or playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving has even happened. Black Friday depresses me immensely, mostly by seeing exactly what idiots our culture of greed has spawned. I had the same feelings about Cyber Monday (though I will admit to taking advantage of great DVD pricing now and then), but hearing the phrase "Cyber Week" this morning nearly made me throw up my breakfast. And any time that I hear the phrase "War on Christmas," I want to kick a FOX News anchor right in the crotch. (Rest assured, I want to kick a Fox News anchor in the crotch each time any of them say nearly anything.) If there is anything that is truly hurting Christmas, it is because we have, in that way that Americans do everything, made the actual spirit of Christmas recede because we have made too much of the holiday commercially. We have grown fat on false joys, and not on true understanding, tolerance, and fellowship with our neighbors.

It's the stuff of many of a Christmas special: finding our way back to the innocence of Christmas in our childhood. And it is clearly something that I desire, especially now that the fun I once found in the holiday (and much of life) has largely evaporated. The question was in how to go about using my current situation and resources to revamp my interest in Christmas. Since I am writing about animation and cinema in general once again, and since much of my childhood was dedicated to pouring over old films and cartoons in formulating my personality, it seems a natural to use the reviewing of old Christmas-related cartoons to help me in this process.

Unfortunately, cartoons like The Shanty Where Santy Claus Lives are not going to help my mood very much. Produced in late 1932, it was released post-Christmas for some reason in January 1933 by Warner Bros. as part of their Merrie Melodies line. Directed by veteran Rudolf Ising (he of the Harman-Ising team; "harmonizing," get it?), Shanty was Warners' second true foray into the Christmas genre, following 1931's Red-Headed Baby, and its opening scenes reflect the desperation of the Great Depression era in which it was made.

Following the then-traditional playing of Get Happy over the Warner Bros. logo and Merrie Melodies production credits, we hear an organ playing Silent Night over the title and credits card, with a very large Santa Claus figure standing to the left. The first shot in the cartoon is of tolling church bells, while Silent Night continues to play. In the snow outside of a well-lit church we see a small boy trudging through the snow. He is wearing an oversized cap and a long coat. When he stops to look at the church, a choir continues to sing, and the boy sniffles his nose. He starts to walk through the snow again, sniffling his nose over and over. 

The boy is surprised by a sight in a nearby home and runs to the window to look inside. Several children are inside, holding hands while running around a Christmas tree to the tune of Jingle Bells, while a warm fireplace crackles in the background. The boy is saddened that he can't join them, but a brisk wind picks him up and throws him against a nearby shed, where snow falls off the roof and piles on top of the already freezing little fellow. He crawls out sadly, sniffles his nose again, and continues to pace through the snow.

We see through the window of a shanty house the boy come over a hill. He enters the mostly barren shack, where the only two items we see are a makeshift chair and a single stocking hanging down from the empty fireplace. When the boy enters the shanty, he runs excitedly to the stocking and peers inside, but his frown returns when he sees that Santa has not been here. He drapes himself against the chair and weeps.

Suddenly, sleigh bells are heard, and we see the familiar image of reindeer and someone on a sleigh slide past the window. The boy's excitement returns and he runs to look outside through the glass. "Santy Clause!" he squeaks, and sure enough, good ol' Santa Claus steps through the front door singing the song that gives the cartoon its title.

"They're making toys for little girls and boys 
in the shanty where Santy Claus lives!
They're taking tears and turning them to joys
in the shanty where Santy Claus lives!"

The boy joins in on the song: "Oh, boy! I'd like to go with you!" And Santa replies: "You've been so good, you’ll see that wish come true." While I would think that the kid would be more concerned about food, he keeps his sights squarely on kid-oriented goals: "Perhaps there'll be a bunch of toys for me..." And Santa finishes with "...in the shanty where Santy Claus lives."

The boy is absolutely fired up and yells, "C'mon, let's go!" He runs to the sleigh and hops onto the curl on the back. Santa waddles to the vehicle and climbs in, his weight pressing the floor to the ground before it bounces back up. He asks the boy, "Ready?" and then tells the reindeer, "Get up!" and cracks the reigns. When the sleigh lurches forward, the boy is somersaulted off the back of the sleigh into the snow. "Hey!" he yells and runs frantically after the sleigh, where Santa rescues him and sets him down securely in front of him. To the strains of Jingle Bells, the reindeer take to the sky, and they fly to the North Pole, where they land in front of another house with a sign reading "Santa Claus Shoppe."

When they enter Santa Claus' "shanty," they are greeted with cheers by a large council of dolls and toys in the form of babies, ducks, monkeys, cats, clowns, and other creatures. The boy says gleefully, "Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!" and runs to play with them. On the counter is a kangaroo that is controlled by a rubber bulb. The boy squeezes a couple of times, and each time the kangaroo hops upward and a small joey pops out of the kangaroo's pouch and barks, throwing out its arms.

But, let's be serious. This is a Warner Bros. cartoon in 1933, so they couldn't wait to get to the nonchalant racism of the day. Next to the kangaroo is a music box with four musicians on it. The box reads "Sambo Jazz Band" and when the boy winds it up, the four minstrel show-looking musicians start to play a lively tune. This makes the other toys start to play musically. A toy soldier under a Christmas tree starts hitting a large drum and some ornaments, and then taps a small baby doll in the stomach. The baby doll sits up and says, "Ma-ma! Ma-ma!" but then it falls off the table and lands in a bucket full of fireplace ashes.

If you don't know where this is going, then I envy you your innocence. When the baby doll pops up out of the ashes, he is completely black except for his eyeballs and his mouth. (He sort of looks like Bosko, which would not be surprising since Harman-Ising were the team responsible for that character, both at Warner Bros. and MGM.) The now-black baby doll yells out, "Mammy!" and the camera shifts to the right to reveal a traditional mammy character who responds, "Sonny boy!" and happily collects her offspring.

We next see three baby dolls in a line. The one in the middle is an exact copy of the doll that starred in Red Headed Baby, while the other two dolls are black, and have kinky hair protruding from the tops of their heads (and who also appear in the other film). In comparing this scene to the one in Red Headed Baby, it is most likely that Ising reused animation from the earlier one, and just changed songs. The baby dolls sing in unison: 

“We are the toys for little girls and boys
in the shanty where Santy Claus lives.
We're taking tears and turning them to joys
in the shanty where Santy Claus lives.
We give the world [?**] just like we used to do.
You'll make a wish and have that wish come true.
Perhaps there’ll be a sweetheart there for me
in the shanty where Santy Claus lives.”

While they sing, we see the full room of toys cheering and dancing. We get a solo performance by a toy figure composed of balls on a series of strings, who stretches his body and legs out in time with the song, and then snaps them back causing the balls to cascade back into their places. At the end of the song, much confetti is throw and the toys cheer wildly.

The red-headed baby doll picks up a pair of maracas, and the two black dolls do a dance of their own, stepping in time to a conga beat. On top of a small toy cash register that bears the words "Baby Bank," the toy soldier steps on a button that causes the cash drawer to open. Five baby dolls sit up and cry, providing a chorus to the song. 

Another small doll blows up a balloon, but when the balloon reaches its maximum capacity, the air is sucked back into the doll's tiny body and fills her up until she looks like a zaftig caricature of the famous radio star and singer Kate Smith. Like Smith, the doll introduces herself to the audience by saying, ""He-llllllo, ev-er-y-body!" She launches into Shine On, Harvest Moon, and two Scottish Terrier dogs sitting nearby say look into the camera and say in tandem, "Are you listening?" before turning their ears back to Kate.

The song switches back to The Shanty Where Santy Claus Lives. A teddy bear on a stool plays a wild trombone solo, and when a Jack in the Box pops up to meet the bear's height, the bear hits it several times in the head while he plays his solo.  

On the big Christmas tree in the room, the toy soldier bounces up and down to the music. Unfortunately, a lit candle set upon the tree's branch (yes, I know it precedes Christmas lights, but whoever though that was a good idea?) falls down and sets the entire tree on fire! The solider yells for help, and a toy fire truck rushes towards the tree. Other toys try to help. Another small doll jumps up and down on a perfume bottle bulb to spray the tree. One of the firemen slides up and down a tall ramp with a weighted pulley system to throw buckets of water at the tree.

But the fire is out of control. The small boy, who has disappeared largely from the picture since he wound up the jazz band, is shown watching the chaos as he stands next to both a sink and a very convenient garden hose (inside the house). On the floor on front of him is a bagpipe (I guess because Scottish kids get presents too, though I think it would be the parents who are being punished.) After a couple of shots where he just watches in astonishment, the boy finally realizes what he needs to do. He hooks the hose to the bagpipe, and then turns the water on at the sink. 

He runs to the tree and squeezes the bag. We hear bagpipe music on the soundtrack as he squeezes water over and over onto the tree, ultimately putting the fire out. The toys run into frame and cheer their hero and the boy looks back at them and then at the camera in amazement. Iris out.

One thing that I really love about the Warner cartoons of the early 1930s is their forward thrust. It doesn't matter who the characters are or what the premise is, as long as there is a jazzy rhythm and everything bounces along to the film's conclusion. Shanty is no different; after initially establishing the Christmas setting, the film turns into any other film with toys coming to life (there are many of them). In fact, after Santa brings the boy to his shop, the right jolly old elf is not seen at all anymore for the duration of the film, not even to congratulate the boy for his heroics at the end. If the fire were not occurring on a Christmas tree, the holiday itself would have likely been forgotten as well.

Despite the jaunty movement and its forward drive, Shanty is just too pedestrian overall for me to give any real love to it. None of the toys do anything truly memorable (apart from setting up the series of jokes based on race), and the music itself, while cute, is not all that remarkable either. If Santa were involved more in the second half, it is possible it could have made the film stick a bit more in one's memory. As part of a program featuring other Christmas cartoons of its period, Shanty might stand out (at least for the opening sequences), but left on its own, it is just another production off the line.

And so I will have to leave it to other cartoons to help me in recapturing the Christmas spirit this year. I have several more lined up to write about through the month of December, and I hope you will join me here on the Cinema 4: Cel Bloc on this quest.

And in case you haven't seen it:

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1948)

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1948)
Director: Max Fleischer
Prod.: Jam Handy Organization
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

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 is just sooooooo post-post-post-post-everything they have to kick such universally beloved things to the wall, the 1964 special is justifiably considered to be a Christmas classic. I would be lying if I said that simple hour of holiday silliness wasn't one of the most formative ingredients in the way that I have approached all art and entertainment since I first laid eyes upon it.

And yet, fun as the stop-motion version is, it's really a dramatic expansion (and often outright reconfiguration) of the original story written by Robert May for Montgomery Ward in 1939. For a closer look at the real story, look no further than the 1948 version, where Rudolph is just some punk kid reindeer abused by the neighbor kids who gets accidentally discovered by Santa one exceedingly foggy Christmas Eve night. Since headlights aren't in Santa's magical bag of tricks (and yet, he and his elven slaves can create electric train sets, racing cars and robotic toys), it's lucky he wanders into Rudolph's home to fill the little whippersnapper's stocking and gets blinded by the glow from Rudolph's abnormal -- nay! -- mutated schnoz.

Since Jam Handy released oodles of promotional films for Chevrolet and other big companies [click here and here for my reviews of their pair of Cinderella car commercials], I half expected Santa's sleigh to actually start shifting about and have panels slide and wheels maneuver into place, and then suddenly the right jolly old elf would be riding about in some sort of coach car. Instead, the film is merely there to entertain, and seemingly to promote the newly written -- but not yet famous at the time -- song version of Rudolph by Johnny Marks, May's brother-in-law. The next year, Gene Autry would reluctantly record it, and as these things go, the rest is history: one of the biggest-selling singles of all time. [The Autry version would later be edited into the credits of this already released cartoon; the version I am reviewing does not include Autry's voice, but rather a choral arrangement of the tune.]

The animation is decent enough -- comparable to what was passing for quality at Famous Studios or Terrytoons at that time -- but the sound quality for the voices is abysmal, with the taunting reindeer sounding like they were recorded down the hall from Rudolph, their voices echoing harsher than their empty threats. I doubt the effect is stylistic, because such things just were not done. I should state here and now that the sight of reindeer walking about on their hind legs is just a tad creepy in my mind, and furthermore, even the male deer seems feminine within this aspect. In fact, they almost seem nude, like they lost their pants. Rudolph's mother, on the other hand, seems to be the only deer that dresses in actual human clothes, greeting her downtrodden son at the door in a smart housedress. (Is it just me, or is Rudolph's mom kind of a RILF? I think it is just me...) Unlike the cave in the Rankin-Bass version, Rudolph actually lives in a home with furniture, and he hangs a stocking on the end of his bed, imaging a boatload of toys and goodies that will be left overnight by Santa, the way in which all human children dream too. But then his conflict over the teasing he receives from his constantly shining nose gets the better of him, and he cries himself to sleep.

The next section introduces Santa, and he is a magnificent rotund figure indeed (if not a bit flouncy in his gestures). Sadly, whoever is doing the voice for the great man seems to not be aware of just how jolly Santa is supposed to be, and comes off sounding completely blasé about the whole project. Any exclamation points in his lines seem to have been replaced by stifled yawns. (He does a much better job with his speech at the end, but it's no excuse for an overall lackluster performance, especially for someone who should as loud and boisterous as Santa.) Claus encounters endless interruptions of his route -- crashing into trees and roofs, and almost getting done away with by a plane, which he and his reindeer negotiate by prancing across the wings. Santa finds Rudolph just in time, and the scarlet-schnozzed one leaves a note behind, beginning it "Deer Mommy and Daddy..."

Rudolph, naturally, saves the day, taking Santa all the way to Bunnyville (who knew all the rabbits in the world lived in one town?) and then the film concludes with Rudolph being honored before the entire population of his reindeer hometown with an elaborate ceremony in the town's stadium. His former taunters have been turned to admirers (though I like to believe that most of them are actually evil deer bullies who are jealous of his newfound fame and are plotting to spoil his reputation). Rudolph is named "Commander-in-Chief" of all the reindeer, and he blushes, causing his fur to equal his nose in intensity. He wishes us "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night", as the final lines of the song run out, and the film closes.

It's so hard to imagine a time when this wasn't an already established part of the culture. We accept holiday folklore as having always been around, and it is surprising to learn that these traditions, in the form we know them, aren't really all that ancient. We just accept Santa's antiquity as a child, and as far as we can surmise, Rudolph has always been there with him. I saw this film long after the Rankin-Bass, and I was offended by how boring it seemed against a film filled with a singing snowman, misfit toys of a dozen varieties, a flying lion king, and an abominable snowman who gets his teeth yanked by an amateur elf dentist and places stars on top of Christmas trees. Even though it was first aired just after my birth, I accepted the '64 film as gospel from the time that I first saw it when I could understand it. That was, and still is, tradition to me (in fact, I am watching it right after I conclude writing this).

But I then think of those that preceded the arrival of both myself and that film, and how perhaps they looked to this simple animation as its own sort of tradition, and even perhaps as new and hip as the later one must have seemed at first glance. It bore a popular song of that day (by the same songwriter as the later film), and animated to the standard of its time. If I had grown up seeing this one instead every year of my childhood, perhaps I would hold far more nostalgia for it.

As it stands though, I don't. It's cute, but this Rudolph's nose simply doesn't shine bright enough for me.

In case you haven't seen it,
this about the highest quality version that you will find on the internet:

Polar Trappers (1938)

Polar Trappers (Walt Disney, 1938) 
Dir: Jack King
Cel Bloc Rating: 6/9

"On polar caps, we set our traps
for walrus, bear and seal.
We fill a zoo with caribou -
depends on how we feel.

Oh, we bring 'em back alive!
We bring 'em back alive!
We don't know why we catch 'em,
but we bring 'em back alive!
Hyuck!"

On this refrain alone I have based nearly my entire sorry impersonation career of Walt Disney's Goofy. I say "nearly," for I had to seek elsewhere to collect the marvelous noise Goofy emits when he has fallen from a great height. You know the noise. It is difficult to put into words, so if you don't know, seek it out in nearly any solo Goofy cartoon where he was learning to do something or other that he is ill-equipped to perform. You can ask me to do my impression of it, but you will only leave disappointed. Fred Travalena, I ain't.

When I first saw Polar Trappers in the 1986 on a Disney videotape called The Importance of Being Donald, I was simply overjoyed at the fact that I had three more Donald Duck cartoons in my then meager collection, and didn't really submit the film to any sort of detailed analysis. To be sure, I did notice the horrid transgression of nature taking place within Polar Trappers, but I accepted it in the way that people today should be willing to accept Chinese and Malaysian actresses playing Japanese geishas: that the "actors" called Donald Duck and Goofy were portraying characters within the film, and that Donald Duck would not actually try to devour an entire population of penguins.

What's that you say? Donald Duck eating penguins? Sorry, folks, but it's all too true, for the middle section of this film might as well be called Bataan Death March of the Penguins. You see, Donald and Goofy are live animal capture experts working out of their camp at the Pole. Which Pole? One can't really determine this. Walrus, bear, and caribou, are mentioned in the song at the opening which would place the story at the North Pole, but they also mention seals, which occur at both Poles, and then the bulk of the film has penguins, which could only place it at the South Pole. But, let's call it the North Pole, and only because much of America still thinks penguins live there.) Goofy spends his portion of the film fruitlessly trying to capture a walrus, but his antics are largely forgettable when compared to the horrors at play in Donald's half of the picture.

Donald is left to do the cooking for the pair of hunters, and as he sings "Beans Porridge Hot" (instead of “Peas”) in his igloo kitchen, he is struck by just exactly how sick he is of eating beans. He is surrounded by endless cans and boxes of the horrid things (his opinion, not mine… I love beans), but just as his temper starts to swell, through the igloo's sole window, he spies a passing female penguin. Donald immediately imagines her body as a delicious roast chicken. Donald puts a tuxedo on over his head (he must have packed it on this trip to Whatever Pole It is for just exactly this purpose), and tries to convince the penguin hottie that he is her type of guy. She plays coy, so he opens up a case from “Spiffanys” and offers her a very fine, sparkling goldfish. He attempts to lure her to a chopping block but before he can remove her head with an axe, she whisks herself and the fish away to safety.

For much of the film, Goofy is off on his own search to trap a walrus (alive, of course -- the Goof is no cruel monster like Donald), and he wanders through an ice cave, tipping his hat to his shadow in the naive way that only Goofy can, and believing that he is having a conversation with his echo, even though it is only repeating exactly what he says. The cave is dark and ominous, and Goofy is extremely cautious, though his need to perform his duties for this cartoon guide him to his usual disaster. He assumes the disguise of a walrus, but his attempts to replicate the walrus' vocal patterns causes the massive icicles in the cave to crash all around him and send him flying.

Chasing the lady penguin, Donald discovers just how many penguins there are at the Pole, at least a hundred of them, and he hatches a plan to do in the entire lot of them. With flute in hand, Donald plays the part of a villainous Pied Piper to the birds, and leads them on a seemingly jovial, musical march back to the camp to meet their doom. A baby penguin keeps taking the lead in front of Donald, so thrilled is he at the impromptu chance to parade, but when Donald imagines the baby penguin as dinner, it is as a much scrawnier meal, and he rejects the baby again and again.

Finally, the tearful little penguin cries a single tear, that hits the hillside, turns into a ever-growing snowball that chases Donald and Goofy (who runs on his skis, of course) all over whatever Pole they are at. Finally, the massive snowball overruns the hunters and drops them violently onto their camp, leaving Donald and Goofy trapped inside their own cages. A can of beans hits Donald in the head, and then a second one falls into his beak to close the picture.

It goes without saying that the picture is well-animated; with Disney, even the worst film has some high standard of craftsmanship to it. However, the story isn't awfully clever; the Goofy section seems like just so much busywork, though his opening song is for me the highlight of the picture. It truly astounds me that the Donald/chicken scenario wasn't looked on by someone at the studio as being just a little too weird. It's entirely possible that such a scenario struck Disney as hilarious, because they used it in two consecutive Donald films (Donald's Nephews directly preceded this one).

Now, don't get me wrong: Donald is a free duck and can devour whatever he likes. I'm not going to stand in the way of his perverse poultry fixation. But is it really Donald appearing as his true cannibal self in these pictures, or is he just an amazing actor and it is simply a character that Donald is portraying? This could explain why Mickey, Donald and Goofy are constantly working in different occupations from picture to picture. If they are playing themselves, then they are either incredibly well-rounded and talented individuals, or else they are unbelievably inept employees who hop from job to job at the drop of a badly-placed bucket into a waylaid ladder.

But if the character isn't Donald, and he is taking a job from some other cartoon actor that would naturally devour a chicken, is this wrong? It seems to me that the Big Bad Wolf wasn't doing a lot at that point, and he was a pro at chasing and threatening smaller, weaker creatures. And just how did Donald get the part? Did he get the job sucking up to Walt? Did he have some dirt on Hamilton Luske? Was he trying to stretch his actorly wings into a truly villainous part? And just why is Beijing-born Zhang Ziyi playing a Japanese geisha? Who cares? A girl that gorgeous should be in every movie, no matter the location of the story. Maybe they could do a modern, live-action remake of Polar Trappers, where she could even play a hot girl penguin at the North Pole that gets set upon by a ravenously evil duck.

And in that case, maybe I should play Donald’s part instead. I eat birds, and I love Zhang Ziyi. Where’s my tuxedo?

[Editor's note: The text and photos for this article were updated on 11/4/2015.]