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Showing posts with label banjos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label banjos. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 06, 2016

The Ragtime Bear (1949)

The Ragtime Bear (UPA Jolly Frolics, 1949)
Dir.: John Hubley
Cel Bloc Rating: 8/9


I am not especially a fan of Mr. Magoo, but I also have never minded the character much. I know we are in politically correct times, and every once in a while, someone makes some ado about the Magoo cartoons and how they make fun of the blind and a bunch of other outright hooey.

Mr. Magoo is not blind. He has extremely poor vision, perhaps even legal blindness, but he can see to a slim degree. The humor in his cartoons comes from the situations into which his bad vision gets him. (See, even there, calling it "bad" might set someone off; hopefully they skipped over the "poor' part... hate to be called "elitist" when I am nowhere near that.) But he rarely ends up in real trouble from his misadventures.

Usually, such as in his debut film, The Ragtime Bear, his extreme nearsightedness causes massive problems for those around him. Magoo is also as stubborn as they come, and generally refuses to admit when he has made a mistake or a wrong turn. This trait, too, will usually spell trouble for those he encounters, while leaving Magoo most often for the better by the end of the situation (or the cartoon).

After directing the final two films in the Fox and the Crow series for UPA, John Hubley and his team came up with a new character, a near-sighted curmudgeon with a wide stubborn streak named Mr. Magoo. According to Leonard Maltin in his seminal Of Mice and Magic: A History of American Animated Cartoons, Hubley was able to convince the studio to allow him to make The Ragtime Bear in 1949 only because it had an animal in it. Columbia weren't interested in a human character, no matter how original he was in the animation landscape. Once Magoo took off over the next two decades and became one of the most popular animated icons in the world, I am sure there are some at Columbia who had to eat some crow (and a bit of fox as well). (Then again, it was Hollywood, and no one ever admitted mistakes; they just moved on to the next project...)


After a series of Jolly Frolics opening cards, we enter the story of The Ragtime Bear. A red jalopy speeds along a high mountain roadway, passing bears hanging out in the trees and the tops of numerous peaks. At the wheel is a short figure clad in green jacket and cap; in the back of the jalopy, strumming a banjo, is a gangly doofus with a yellow hat (with the brim bent upwards) and wearing a raccoon coat. The car seems out of control, and that is exactly what it is. The jalopy speeds into a tree where a bear is fast asleep on a branch. The camera remains on the bear as the sounds of a crash are heard below. The crash shakes the tree and the bear, but the ursine fellow only wakes up fleetingly and then settles back into his reverie.

In the car at the base of the tree, the gangly collegiate tries to tune his banjo (which had been providing the jaunty soundtrack up to the point of the crash), while the older gentleman, who will become very well known as Mr. Magoo, climbs out of the driver's seat. Clad all in green with white spats on his shoes, the bald man with thick eyebrows and a bald head squints almost constantly as he walks. As he walks up to sign reading "Straight ahead to Hodge Podge Lodge," it becomes clear that Magoo is extremely nearsighted.

He turns towards the camera and asks in a very pushy voice (provided by comic actor Jim Backus, who would also go on to play Thurston Howell III, the millionaire on Gilligan's Island), "Which way to Hodge Podge Lodge?" "Can't you read the sign?" says a disembodied voice, possibly meant to be the director or the cameraman. "Well, certainly I can read the sign!" the old man shouts back angrily. He pulls out a pair of spectacles and puts them on, his eyes enlarging to ridiculous proportions. We see a very blurry closeup of the bottom half of the words on the sign. "What does it say?" he asks the voice, which responds calmly, "Straight ahead." After grumbling a little bit, Magoo says, "Well, thank you. Thank you kindly!" and then turns to head back to the car.

The tall youth has gotten out of the car by this point, and is standing right behind him toying around with his banjo. Magoo shouts at him, "Come on, Waldo! Follow me!" but when Waldo tells him he will, Magoo calls him a "scatterbrained boy." As they head off, Waldo starts to strum his banjo, returning to the jaunty tune from before. However, the bear is now awake high in the tree above them, and with his paw cupped to one of his rather mouse-like ears, the bear likes the sound of what he hears. He begins to tap his foot and stick his tongue out to the rhythm of the music.


Waldo is getting a tad carried away with his music, and he doesn't notice that Mr. Magoo has walked straight up a tall precipice covered in snow and is about to step off into nothing but space. Luckily, the music angers Magoo, and he turns to yell at Waldo, saying "Stop that guitar! Can't stand noise!" He grumbles again, and with his eyes squinted, turns to take that possibly fatal step. However, Waldo sees his predicament -- and is likely very used to these situations with his elderly uncle -- and lays his banjo down underneath Magoo's steps so that he crosses over to another cliff unscathed. Magoo is unaware that his life has been saved by his nephew, and continues to berate the lad. "I came up here for peace and quiet, son!" and grumbles some more. Waldo tries to step from one cliff to the next, but the far one has a chunk break off, and he end ups letting go of his banjo and taking the fall himself. 


Waldo's hat also flies into the air, and the bear not only arrives at the cliff just in time to accidentally catch the banjo, but has the hat flop onto his furry head as well. The bear inspects the instrument, hits the strings with his paws, and then with the back of the banjo to his face, pulls a string which allows the banjo to smack him hard in the nose. After hitting the strings in frustration a few times, suddenly he becomes a banjo master, perfectly fingering the neck and head, and playing as well, if not better, than Waldo did.

But Magoo is not done with Waldo. He wanders back furiously to the bear, mistaking him for his nephew because of the fur of his coat and the hat and banjo. "Waldo! I told you to quit it! Now, give me that mandolin!" Magoo leans across the gap between the two cliffs and pulls the instrument from the bear's paws. He also scrapes a chunk of fur from off of the bear's stomach and says, "Get yourself a new coat. You're disgraceful, son. I'd like you to be neat, boy..." Magoo continues to mutter and chuckle under his breath as he marches away.

A short while later, we enter the Hodge Podge Lodge, where apparently the hoi polloi gather to lounge about in the lobby. Magoo, dragging the banjo, walks straight up to the clerk's desk, but he ignores the clerk who is hunched over the register on the desk, clambers up some luggage and stops at the head of a moose mounted on the wall. While Magoo makes his introductions to the moose, the clerk speaks to Magoo, but the old man never notices that the voice is coming from behind him.


He introduces Waldo as "a bright lad and a fine banjo player." However, the Waldo that walks up to the desk is the bear version of Waldo, and the clerk notices this straight away. The clerk holds out his hand to shake, but the bear just grabs the clerk and gives him a bone-crushing bear hug. Magoo yells at his "nephew," shouting from the top of the stairs, "C'mon, Waldo! Get some rest! And take off that coat!" Magoo, though, has stepped unknowingly up onto the railing, and steps off, falling to the ground below. It looks like the bear is going to catch him, but lets Magoo pass and hit the carpet as he collects the banjo instead.

The bear starts to play My Darling Clementine, but Magoo wrests the instrument from his grasp once again. When the bear looks up, Magoo, with fairly impressive speed, has climbed up a snow-covered hill and is making to throw the banjo off into nothingness. At the last second, Magoo realizes something is passing by him -- a ski lift -- and he sets the banjo on one of the chairs, which carries it up to the top of the mountain. Magoo does a little dance but throws his back out, and stops when he hears the banjo music again. Magoo has wandered onto a ski jump, and from the top of the jump comes the bear on a pair of skis, playing the banjo for all he is worth. Magoo is swept up by the skis, and the pair go flying high into the air.

They land further down the slope with Magoo mounted at the front of the skis. He doesn't seem to notice that anything was any different than if they were standing on the carpet at the lodge. He turns around to talk to "Waldo," but we then see the real Waldo desperately trying to climb back up from where he fell earlier. He just about makes it, but gets run over by his uncle and the bear. Magoo grabs the banjo again from the bear, yelling, "For the last time... STOP THAT MUSIC!" He steps off the skis, and begins to tumble fast down the hill, until he ends up with his head stuck upside down in the snow.

Later, at the lodge, Magoo has gone to bed. He not only is still holding the banjo hostage as he lies in his bed, but he is also brandishing a double-barreled shotgun. As he snoozes fitfully, we see the bear, still posing as Waldo, in the other bed. The bear notices a bear-skin rug on the floor, and places it in his bed. He starts to tiptoe across the room to steal the banjo, but when Magoo stirs a little, the bear falls down flat on the floor and pretends to be the bear-skin rug. He tiptoes on all fours to the bed, but almost runs into the shotgun. The bear reaches up to grab the banjo, but grabs a string and awakens Magoo. The old man looks across the room and sees what he thinks is Waldo asleep in the other bed, and a bear-skin rug (though it is actually the real bear) lying between them.

Magoo falls back asleep, and the bear reaches up again for the banjo. This time, he accidentally pulls the trigger on the shotgun, and the blast awakens Magoo once more! He looks across the room, where he mistakenly believes he has shot his nephew full of holes, as we see the silhouette of the bear-skin rug on the bed splattered by buckshot. Magoo rushes to Waldo's aid, with the real bear watching in disbelief on the floor in the middle of the room. Magoo decides that water is needed to help the situation, and he leaves the room, stepping on the bear in the process. The bear makes a last grab for the banjo, but hears a noise at the door, and runs back to his own bed, throwing the rug out of the way and lying down.

A very tired-looking Waldo comes through the door and climbs on top of the bear. He falls asleep just in time for Magoo to return with a pitcher of water, which he pours on both Waldo and the bear. They both sit up, and Magoo is overjoyed that his nephew is alive The bear helps to brush the water off of Waldo without either human noticing him at all, but when Magoo graciously hands the banjo back to his real nephew, the bear pops up to look down happily at the instrument. But Magoo warns Waldo, "And if you play one note, I'll blast you!" and levels the shotgun at his nephew. 

Waldo holds back from playing, but the bear puts a finger in his own ear, and then reaches around to strum the banjo. From outside of the lodge, we hear a shotgun blast. And then another. Magoo chases his nephew up and down the hills and mountains, shooting his gun wildly. In the final shot of The Ragtime Bear, we see the bear perched yet again on his tree branch, strumming his banjo and tapping his foot happily.

As I mentioned at the beginning, I am not necessarily a fan of Mr. Magoo. I find him extremely irritating in the later entries in the original theatrical series, and don't care for him much in the various television series (though some of the specials and movies have been entertaining). Even worse is when he gets that stupid dog that looks and acts just like him. (Foreshadowing of the vile Scrappy-Doo perhaps?) But I greatly enjoy many of the earliest shorts in the theatrical run, and The Ragtime Bear is right up there with UPA's best work, if not in all of animation. The character work is sharp, and I love the details in the lodge scenes and in the opening backgrounds.

And best of all is the creation of the cranky old man, Mr. Magoo. In Maltin's book, it is mentioned that Hubley was upset that the later films concentrated almost completely on his nearsightedness as his major trait, and pushed aside the bullheadness that was the real reason for his existence. I suppose this was to make him increasingly more acceptable to the masses, but it does rather cut down his character by at least a dimension in doing so. Luckily, there a handful of early films where this attribute is fully intact, including this one.

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it...

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Yankee Doodle Daffy (1943)

Yankee Doodle Daffy (Warner Bros. Looney Tunes, 1943)
Director: I. (Friz) Freleng
Writer: Tedd Pierce
Animators: Richard Bickenbach
Music: Carl W. Stalling
Voices: Mel Blanc and Billy Bletcher
Cel Bloc Rating: 8/9

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

The party is just getting started back home as I write this, and as I watch my Fourth of July tradition, that of watching ESPN's coverage of the Nathan's Famous International Hot-Dog Eating Contest, an event that simultaneously repulses and fascinates me, I am reminded how I tortured the gang my last couple of summers in Alaska by practically forcing them to watch this culinary gross-out. Outside of the fact that they take place annually on the same day, the connection between the contest and the holiday is tenuous at best (I don't recall hot dogs having anything to do with helping us gain our independence). I guess that it is the barbecue aspect of both items that binds them together now in my mind.

I look back on the fireworks displays in Anchorage, and while they have always been somewhat laughable in relative terms of size and complexity, I miss them to a large degree. Since I have moved near Disneyland, fireworks are nearly a nightly occurrence. I can see them from our home if we go outdoors and down the street a few hundred feet, but we can always hear them loudly and very clearly every time. Especially tormented by this are our baby girls -- our pups -- one of whom, our little delicate flower India, tends to shake and hide when she hears the noises, and also refuses to go outside if they are booming.

The smallest Disney displays put even the largest Anchorage display to shame, but I still miss the Anchorage ones, if only because I miss the Bohemians (my gang) dearly, and if I weren't going to Rob's wedding later in the month, I would have taken some time off and sprung a surprise on the louts. What I don't miss about the Anchorage display is the fact that it never takes place on the Fourth of July. They do them at midnight (because Anchorage is very light in the evening at this point of the summer, so they wait until it is sort of the darkest but not really), so the event actually takes place on the Fifth of July. (I am throwing out my usual "Unday" rules on this subject.) The connection between the Fourth, a day celebrating the gaining of America's independence from England, and the Fifth -- a day celebrating, uh, the next day, I guess -- is tenuous at best. Oh, yeah... they both happen in fucking July. Get it right, people.


Except for the title, and a verse from a war song, what does the Porky Pig and Daffy Duck, show biz opus Yankee Doodle Daffy have to do with the Fourth of July? A little bit more than a hot-dog eating contest and a little bit less than a fireworks display that occurs after the holiday it is celebrating. What the cartoon does have is a parodic title playing off of Warner Bros.' very own Oscar-devouring Yankee Doodle Dandy, and it is around that film's myriad scenes taking place in talent agencies that this animated short builds its plot.

Porky Pig is the going-on-vacation president of Smeller Productions, and with only ten minutes to catch his plane, Porky hangs a sign on his door announcing "No Casting Today". "Hold everything!", yells Daffy Duck, startling Porky as he leaps through the door. He grabs the luggage from the pig's grasp and sets them back inside the office. He does likewise with Porky's golf clubs, and then his golf cap, but Daffy can't resist plopping the cap on his own head, sizing it up in a mirror, and then giving his opinion of the cap, muttering "Poo!" quietly. He forces the pig to sit down, and tells Porky that "Opportunity is knocking!" and proves it by rapping on the pig's head with his knuckles. Daffy presents his business card, which portrays the duck as an "Actor's Agent" and then settles into his pitch, despite Porky's protestations to leave.

Daffy announces that he has found "the most sensational discovery since the sweater girl!" (Well, after that, this is surely going to be something truly special indeed…) Daffy continues: "He's colossal! He's stupendous! One might even go so far to say -- he's mediocre!" Porky has been slowly sucked into the pitch, so the duck finishes his introduction, with hyperbole that would put Stan Lee to shame: "I give you that paragon of pep and personality -- Sleepy Lagoon!!" With a burst of fanfare, Daffy points towards the couch, where a small duck sits licking an enormous purple lollipop, larger even than the size of his own head. Sleepy shoves the sucker into his mouth, causing his head to warp to the lollipop's dimensions, and then turns the lollipop a couple of times about the inside of his mouth, forcing his head to stretch with each spin. Daffy continues to pitch Sleepy to the pig, and as he rolls along merrily, it becomes clear that he is determined to act out every part of Sleepy's show himself.

Donning a straw hat, Daffy launches into a boisterous version of I'm Just Wild About Harry, and he punctuates the song with his own string of increasingly silly rhymes to the actual lyrics. As justification for how over the top Daffy’s sales technique is, in the middle of the song, Sleepy casually holds up a sign with a picture of a large ham…

“I’m just wild about Harry,
and Harry’s wild about me!
Oh, the heavenly bah-lisses 
of his kisses
fills me with ecstas—!”

Daffy interrupts the “y” in “ecstasy” to jump onto Porky briefly to proclaim, “This is just a rough idea, ya understand?” He then returns to his song…

“He's sweet just like chocolate candy
or just like honey from a bee!
Yes, I’m just wild about Harry,
and he’s just wild about…
cannot do without…
he is from the South…
can’t ya hear me shout…
talkin’ with my mouth…
could you ever doubt…
he’s just wild about me!!”


As Daffy finishes the song, he catches Porky making an escape, and he grabs the pig and sits him back down. Daffy starts to describe the audience's applause, and Sleepy holds up a sign with a picture of a screw and another picture of a baseball. Daffy, who is indeed both a ham and a screwball as Sleepy suggested, zips through a frenetic banjo solo, but Porky tries to run out again. "Just a minute, chubby!" (Daffy is suddenly standing on the outside of the door.) "You ain't seen half of the kid's repertoire-y!"

Daffy sits the pig down once more, and dons a Carmen Miranda-outfit, complete with assorted fruits piled high on his head, to knock out a “boom-chicka-boom” number. (Sleepy's response to this? A picture of corn on the cob.) Porky bolts again, but when he opens the door, Daffy is on the other side dressed up as Pagliacci. He starts to sing Laugh, Clown, Laugh and then follows suit, laughing maniacally and adding his trademarked leaps and “hoo-hoos” into the mix.

Porky runs to the next door, but out pops Daffy again, this time wearing a cowboy hat. He jumps on top of Porky, and rides the pig like a bucking bronco through the office, singing the then-popular song Cheyenne, but with these lyrics in place of the real ones:

"I'm a cowboy, yessir, I am!
Yessir, I am a cowboy, yessir I am!
I'm a cowboy, yessir, I am!
Yessir, I am a cow-how-boy! Yee-hee!"

Porky manages to buck the duck off his back, and sends him flying into an open safe, which Porky locks up with a devious grin. He creeps to the door, grabs his bags and cap, and heads off for his vacation. The plane takes off from the airport, and inside the cabin of the plane, Porky sighs with relief and relaxes in his seat. From the cockpit, we hear the familiar voice of Daffy Duck, who has taken over the pilot's role, as he sings We Watch the Skyways. Porky leaps out of the plane, and pulls on his parachute ripcord. He floats gently to the ground below, but he hears Daffy lightly singing Angel in Disguise above him. He looks up, and Daffy has taken the place of the parachute. Regardless of the duck’s added weight (though I suppose he could fly them down if he wished), Daffy continues to serve faithfully as a parachute and they land safely on the roof of the Smeller Agency building.


As Daffy chases Porky down flight after flight of stairs to the strains of the William Tell Overture, the overreaching duck sings his own mash-up of lyrics both purloined and nonsensical:

"Over hill and over dale
We're always on the dusty trail,
Hunting fox and hunting quail.
Tally-ho! I’m a hunting fool!

Giddy up! Giddy up! Giddy up!
My horse and I are of the finest breed!
Giddy up! Giddy up! Giddy up!
Just like the wind I ride my stalwart steed!

Sure of foot and sure of eye,
Peeling onions makes me cry!
This makes no sense and so do I!
So don't you go and beat me daddy to the nearest bar!
Yeah!"


Back in the office, Daffy doesn't allow Porky a moment to rest from the chase. He launches into the kid's finale… “And what a finale!” he terms it. Suddenly, there are many superimposed versions of Daffy doing a variety of tricks: unicycling, juggling, balancing, somersaulting, and most shockingly, performing acrobatics in tandem with another Daffy. Porky can stand no more. He yells at Daffy to stop the onslaught of spectacle, and to simply let him see what the kid can do.

At this cue, Sleepy Lagoon jumps off the couch, methodically places his giant purple lollipop inside an appropriately shaped case, and turns to sing to Porky. In an incredible baritone voice that doesn't quite jibe with his diminutive stature, Sleepy boldly sings "Let springtime's blossoms bloom again in the garden of ---!!!" At this point in the song, Sleepy emits a gigantic wheeze, and he starts to cough much like a breath-shortened smoker. He has to choke out the last two words, "-- my heart!", as he continues to cough until the film irises out.

More than one person I know or have read has proclaimed their indifference to Daffy in this film because he is so annoying. Hello? Have you missed the point here? Daffy is supposed to be a pain in the ass, and not just in this film, but nearly all of them. Here, with his "Hoo-hoo!" persona still well intact, he quite tangibly pushes Porky to the very brink of his sanity. Daffy clearly wants to be the best talent agent that he can, and he pitches his client like no agent ever has in the history of show business, but that's not enough for Daffy. His ego overtakes him and forces him to act out Sleepy's repertoire.

Yeah -- Daffy's annoying. But he's my kind of annoying, he is brilliant at it, and we are all the better for it. Yankee Doodle Daffy, whatever else it may be, is a triumph of character work; the backgrounds and other visual elements play a deeply secondary role to the reactions of the characters and Mel Blanc's always stellar voice work. It has always been one of my secret Looney Tunes favorites, perhaps not in the upper echelon of classics, but definitely running just behind that pack.

So, what does Yankee Doodle Daffy have to do with a hot-dog eating gross-out contest and a Fifth of July fireworks display? The connection between the three is tenuous at best, except that I have now written about them on the Fourth of July. And that's about all the Independence day kismet that I can take. Did you really think that I was going to write about America and all that blind faith flag-waving hoo-hah? Especially when we have a country whose actions seriously counteract everything for which it supposedly stands? Do you like invading country after country on the slightest whim of our leaders (and the oil companies)? Do you like how racism and misogyny continue to write the headlines of the day when we are supposed to a nation of equals? Do you miss habeas corpus? (Because I guarantee you, someday you might.) And how does Gitmo make you feel? We should be ashamed of ourselves.

Now I am in a bad mood. I knew that I should have just watched Reds again today. I do still miss my friends, though. And, with vegetarian Jen at work right now, I am having potato chips and hot dogs by myself at home in my own small version of a George Foreman Grill "barbecue". (America, fuck yeah...)

RTJ


*****

And in case you haven’t seen it…


[This article was updated on 12/30/15. Leif no longer lives across from Mulcahy Stadium, I stopped watching the annual hot dog eating contest because, well, it's gross, and I rarely see or hear fireworks as much anymore since we moved 30 miles away from Anaheim last spring. The political references near the end of this piece are based on my feelings when this was initially posted in July 2006. Not that much has changed since then, and I still feel the same way.]