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Showing posts with label kings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kings. Show all posts

Friday, January 22, 2016

The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins (1943)

The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins (A George Pal Puppetoon, 1943)
Dir.: George Pal
Cel Bloc Rating: 7/9


It is rather annoying that there is not easier access for most people to the animated films of George Pal today. In fact, except for the hardcore animation, science fiction, or old movie fan (or any combination of the three), I would doubt few people on the street would even know who he is in 2015.

Once upon a time, however, he was extremely well-known. He was justly famous in the '50s and '60s for producing and sometimes directing a series of big screen sci-fi and fantasy adventures, many of them featuring often innovative special effects (which included some animation), films such as Destination Moon (1950), When Worlds Collide (1951), The War of the Worlds (1953), tom thumb (1958), The Time Machine (1960), The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm (1962), and The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao (1964). Several of these films are quite correctly recognized to this day as classics of their genre, and I, like many of a similar vintage, grew up discovering and loving each and every film on television throughout the '70s, being a little bit too young to have caught them in a movie theatre on their first go-around.

And, oh yeah... if you love The Rocky Horror Picture Show, then you have probably sung the lyrics "But when worlds collide, said George Pal to his bride" more times than you can even remember. (And you've probably sung it in public too...)

But George Pal was already famous when he started this run of productions. Throughout the 1940s, the Hungarian-born director and producer made his name -- initially in Europe working in Holland before moving production to the United States -- with a series of stop-motion animated shorts that were not only quite popular in movie houses across America and the world, but also garnered Pal seven Academy Award nominations. To top it all off, Pal was given an Honorary Oscar at the 1944 ceremony for the groundbreaking stop-motion animation techniques introduced in his Puppetoon series.

Some of the short films in the Puppetoon series -- also known in some of the title cards as George Pal's Madcap Models -- were based on original characters (such as several shorts featuring a stereotyped black boy named Jasper that don't play so comfortably in this modern age), but there were also stories based on popular children's stories, both old (such as Sleeping Beauty) and modern at the time. And of the modern tales, Pal created a pair of films based on the works of Dr. Seuss.



The first of the two Seuss adaptations was The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins in 1943, based on what was then the good Doctor's (not a real doctor) first children's book written in prose. "Children's book" is a stretch, for at the time, the intent of Theodore Seuss Geisel (his real name) was to reach as broad an audience as possible with his wildly imaginative stories and artwork. The goal was to sell books and make a living, and his open style was appealing to adults and children alike. His first book, 1937's And To To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street (also turned into a Puppetoon by Pal in 1944), along with this story, were published by Vanguard Press, and while the sales were no great shakes, it was enough to build his reputation and he would soon leap over to a big time publisher called Random House, where his works remain to this day, even the ones published posthumously.

I will not go into my usual painstaking play-by-play detail of the entire cartoon, since I would rather you just go out and seek out a copy of the actual book (if you don't own it already, which you should). Why should I tell the full story here when there is a book written by a master entertainer that tells the tale?

The George Pal version also follows the general plot of the slim book, but does omit scenes involving several characters featured in the book, namely a trio of ever older wisemen (all the father of the previous one) and a cabal of warlocks (and their cats) who try to employ black magic to get Bartholomew Cubbins to remove his hat. But, oh yes... the hat removing. That is rather important. Perhaps we should at least recount the general plotline, if only to show the full set of differences between the versions.

In the film version, we are told of (and shown) the Kingdom of Didd, and introduced to King Derwin, who likes to look out of his castle window at his beloved kingdom. The castle is built atop a tall, spiraling mountain, which looms over the surrounding village below. We then meet a small boy who lives on the outskirts of Didd, who looks at the kingdom in the same manner as the king, only he does it, as both Seuss and the narrator of the Pal film mention, backwards. The boy is Bartholomew Cubbins and he wears a small, unobtrusive hat with a feather upon his head. (In the book, the hat is quite understated but has an enormous feather of which Bartholomew is justly proud; in the movie, Bart is entirely humble, but his initial hat is exceedingly pointy in both brim and peak, and he still has a rather large feather in it.)

Later, King Derwin is out on parade through his kingdom in his coach, and the citizens respond to his passing by doffing their various hats and caps in deep respect to their monarch. And also because it is the Law. Young Cubbins has come to town to go to market, but when he crosses paths with the king, he too takes off his hat, but captures the ire of His Majesty when he is surprisingly ordered to remove his hat. "But, sire! My hat is off!" he pleads, but then realizes there is a small Tyrolean-style hat mounted on his head where his larger hat once sat. 

He takes that hat off only to find it replaced immediately with another, and then another, and then another, each one in a completely different style from the previous ones. In this way, there is a great variance from the original book, where each of the first 450 hats is exactly the same -- a regular cap with a large feather sticking out of it -- but then with the 451st, they begin to change, sometimes with jewels or more feathers, and then they begin to get more and more elaborate until they reach the 500th hat mentioned in the title. In the George Pal version, in an equally valid twist on the gag, Pal basically takes the movie audience on a tour of great hats through the ages, having headgear from nearly every corner of the world and a wide variety of occupations show up on Bartholomew Cubbins' humble little head.



As Bartholomew pulls scores of hats off his head and they pile up at this feet, the townspeople note what is wrong. "His hat! He can't take off his hat!" one man cries, and Cubbins is arrested and dragged all the way up the spiraling mountain to the castle, leaving a trail of even more hats behind him as they fall off his head. By the time the scene switches, we have heard the narrator count to 247 hats, and once we see Bartholomew awaiting his fate before the king and the Chief Justice of the kingdom, he has passed 400 hats. As he bows to the king, five or six more hats drop onto the ground. Will it ever stop?

It is determined that Bartholomew has indeed broken the law, but His Majesty is rather torn as to what to do. He decides to have the Yeoman of the Bowmen (who is a character from the book) shoot the hat off of Bartholomew's head with his mighty bow. Here too, we have a change from the book. In the original story, we first meet the Grand Duke Wilfred, a small boy about Bartholomew's age who is also the nephew of the king. He is pretty much the true villain of the story, as he grows obsessed with doing away with Bartholomew, which he first does by shooting at him with his much smaller bow before the king calls in the Yeoman of the Bowmen. In the film, the Yeomen fires and the smaller hat on young Cubbins' head is replaced with a comically huge (as they tend to be) sombrero.



With the archer failing in his duties, Bartholomew seems to have sealed his own fate. The boy is ordered to go to the executioner at once to have his head chopped off as an ultimate form of punishment. We then meet the executioner, a large, goony fellow of a generally happy nature, with skulls and crossbones on the arms of his leather costume, who just happens to love his work. (He is pretty close to the character in the book, only there, the fellow is quite sincerely polite to Bartholomew and shows great regret at what he has been ordered to do.) Another change from the book is the use of a guillotine in the film instead of a large axe. It does add great dramatic tension to the execution scene, however, as the blade is slowly cranked into place by the executioner, and we see the still smiling face of Bartholomew and the astonished faces of the villagers as the blade rises and rises. Bart's neck is set into place for chopping (he is wearing a sailor's cap by this point), and the blade starts to fall. A lady screams on the soundtrack. As the blade comes to within a couple inches of his neck, a cry of "Stop!" from the Chief Justice saves Bartholomew's life.

The Chief Justice has found in his Law book that not only must one doff his hat to the king at peril of his own life, but that no one can be executed if he is still wearing his hat. Since Bartholomew seems to never be able to take off his hat, he gets off on a technicality. When Cubbins is brought before the king, the monarch is exhausted from his efforts to solve this riddle, and finally asks Bartholomew if he can buy the sailor's cap from him. Cubbins bows his head and the cap falls off, revealing a very grand, elaborately adorned hat, with jewels and a massive plume. In other words, a hat fit for a king. 

His Majesty is extremely pleased at this development, and he offers Bartholomew 500 guilders (the coin of the realm) and his own crown in place of the beautiful hat. King Derwin sits once again in the castle window, staring out at his kingdom, and the narrator challenges him by describing the king as "proudly wearing the new hat, which he never wanted to take off... or never dared to?" The king turns to the camera and growls at the narrator's words. Bartholomew goes back to his parents' home a rich boy, and stares back at the castle while he wears the crown on his head, never feeling small again. The End.

For the most part, aside from the missing characters that added richly to the plot within the story and the switching of the artistic approach to the 500 hats, this is the story of the Seuss book. Where Pal's The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins varies greatly from the book is in the design of the characters, which are really worlds apart from the familiar Dr. Seuss style. Pal's characters continue his use of simple wooden-looking figures (though he used far more elaborate models in other films, especially the later ones), such as one would think of toy soldiers in a box, and then employ the replacement animation, where a different head or body part is switched between frames to simulate motion, for which Pal was so widely known. (A modern example would be Tim Burton's A Nightmare Before Christmas.)

The fact that the characters do not look like the Seuss characters is a bit of a letdown for me. Part of the fun of Bob Clampett's spirited, hand-drawn version of Horton Hatches the Egg, released a year earlier by Warner Bros. in 1942, is that his team captured the general ambience of the original book and lead character, though Clampett did play around, incorporated his own style, and made some elements a bit more adult. But I should recognize that it is important that Pal's 500 Hats keeps wholly consistent with the overall aesthetic of the Puppetoon series, and does manage to capture completely the spirit of the original story. I cannot fault the film for something which plays off my deeply personal feeling for the work of Dr. Seuss.

The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins was nominated for an Oscar, as was Pal's version of Mulberry Street the next year, but that was the last of his Seuss adaptations. It's sad, because I still would like to see someone do an animated version of Bartholomew and the Oobleck, the even more wonderful follow-up to this story. I have always been rather struck by the thought that of all the Seuss books adapted either to the small or big screen over the years, either in animation or live-action, that Oobleck has never quite made it, even if it has enormous visual and comical possibilities. Perhaps a feature film called The Fantastical Adventures of Bartholomew Cubbins is in order, and they could combine both stories. Or perhaps, given the rate of return on these things in the modern age, that it best be left alone.

Going back to my original notion in this article, I suggested how hard it is for the common person who might be interested in seeing The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins, or any of the Puppetoons, to actually view them in 2015. I have a fairly recent Blu-ray of The Puppetoon Movie, a 1977 release built out of numerous Pal shorts, and which comes with about 20 extra shorts, including seven never before released on home video. Two of those shorts are The 500 Hats and Mulberry Street. Some, but not all, of these shorts have been remastered and released in HD, and I believe that it is simply marvelous that someone put out this collection. The downside, as I mentioned earlier, is that many of these brilliantly animated short films feature characters comprised of quite blatant racial stereotyping, so they really aren't for all audiences anymore.

But they are necessary if you are a student of film or animation history. They are quite important for any cinema fan. Pal's work needs to be preserved, so that it can be studies and enjoyed for future generations. And it should be noted that one of Pal's animators on some of these shorts was a young stop-motion wizard named Ray Harryhausen, thus probably being of great interest to his ongoing legion of dedicated fans. Oh, yeah... and some guy named Willis O'Brien. Perhaps you have heard of King Kong?

Sadly, though probably recognizing correctly that the actual market for such a Blu-ray collection is fairly thin these days, B2MP, the releasing company, have only pressed 3,000 copies. They also have not put it out in larger number on DVD (or at all), so this may be it. You can still buy an older DVD version of The Puppetoon Movie, but it doesn't come with many of the bells and whistles that the Blu-ray has, including the Seuss adaptations. So you may want to look quickly if you are of the desired audience for this set (which, admittedly, is a bit pricey).

Or you could wait. Who knows? In a few short years, you may need to have an incredibly elaborate 500th hat just to pay for one.

RTJ


*****

And in case you haven't seen it (and I suggest seeking out the Blu-ray while you can, where it looks much better than this rather degraded NTA print):


Thursday, October 19, 2006

Countdown to Halloween: Boo Moon (1954)

Boo Moon (Paramount/Famous Studios, 1954)
Dir: Seymour Kneitel
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

Paramount and Famous Studios jumped onto the 3D bandwagon in the early 1950s, as a great many studios and independent producers were quick to do as they searched for that always elusive, cinematic pot of gold. Taking their two most popular characters, the studio produced a pair of extra-dimensional cartoons in 1953; both, not coincidentally, were set in outer space (because, apparently, at least to movie producers, 3D is instantly identifiable with science-fictional settings): Popeye, the Ace of Space, with the spinach-popping sailor, and Casper the Friendly Ghost in Boo Moon, released into theatres on New Year's Day, 1954.

Apart from his non-stop, whiny search for friends, Boo Moon almost completely does away with the Casper formula: there is no crying for attention, and except for two opening scares on Earth, Casper doesn't go through the usual parade of possible friends turned horrified recipients of Casper's ghostliness. After frightening everyone out of the subway, the producers decide to give us a first taste of 3D thrills, and have Casper flight straight at the screen slowly. Just as his giant smiling face fills up most of the frame, Casper disappears.

Casper happens upon a salesman working the street with a telescope by selling views of the "Wonders of the Moon" for 10 cents a peek. At first, the salesman thinks Casper is just any other little boy, but a second glance has him leap up and then smash himself down into his shoes, while pulling his hat down on top of himself. The salesman then leaps towards the camera as Casper did before, and we see the large sole of his left shoe as he leaps out of frame. A frowning Casper peers through the telescope and sees the Man in the Moon smiling at him. From this brief slice of evidence only, and always desperate for a friend, Casper reasons that the moon seems to be a friendly place. The friendly little ghost undertakes a long, solo flight through space, using just his ghostly powers, to meet the Man in the Moon himself.

When he arrives, Casper is disappointed to find "nothing but rocks and holes," and his long journey has left him weary. Casper stretches, yawns, and lies down to sleep. As he does, tiny Moon People crawl out of the craters, declare Casper to be "a monster" and cage him on a wagon to bring him back to their Moon King. This visual allusion to Gulliver's Travels is incredibly apt, as it turns out, because the Moon King Luna, is played by none other than King Bomba himself from the Fleischer Studios feature-film adaptation of the Swift classic. It is not entirely apt, however, since Bomba played the king of Lilliput's rival, Blefuscu. (Fleischer Studios was notoriously bilked out of existence by Paramount/Famous Studios in 1942, and Paramount kept the film rights to all previously-owned Fleischer properties, including Popeye and their original Gulliver's Travels characters.) Essentially playing the same character, only facing a giant white ghost kid instead of a giant white man, Bomba/Luna is not pleased with Casper, and orders "the monster" to be sent away to the royal dungeons.

Conveniently for Casper (though he could fly out of the cage at any time owing to his non-corporeal form), the Moon Kingdom is attacked by large and vicious Tree Men, who are apparently pissed off about being on the moon when the casting call for The Wizard of Oz took place or something or other, and a violent battle commences. The diminutive Moon Soldiers launch large (or rather, small) balls of fire at a pair of the Tree Men: one is burned through the middle, and runs off pulling his two separated sections together; the other is burnt to about the width of a very tall blackened toothpick, and after his eyes pop open telling us he is still alive (no actual death apart from Casper in these cartoons), the charred stick hurries off in fear.



But the Tree Men won't be stopped. They run to a crater filled with water and suck up the liquid through their branches that serve as noses. The Tree Men squirt the water back at the castle and put out the fires creating the Moon People's only defense. The Tree Men finally break through the gates of the walled city and capture King Bomba/Luna. Casper finally gets in on the hero action, materializing through the ground of the moon, and pulling two roots of each tree under with him and tying them in bows, thereby literally rooting each tree in place. The Moon Kingdom is saved! 

No longer afraid of him, King Bomba/Luna stands on Casper's palm and awards him with a medal and the title of "Sir Friend Casper." Even though he has finally made a large group of friend that trust him, Casper decides to take off to return to Earth, and as he leaves, the Man in the Moon winks at the audience.

Of course, we will never see these "Friends of Casper" again, just as we never see any of Casper's friends again when the next formulaic cartoon rolls around. Until Spooky and Wendy show up, that is. I have two theories:

1) Casper is actually a ghost who befriends and then murders these new "friends" in the space between each film. He is unable to retain any memory of having met or killing these friends; thus, his slate is wiped clean at the beginning of each film, and the repetitious cycle of each Casper film begins anew. Casper is a serial friend killer from beyond the grave.

2) Somewhere there is a Hollywood chapter of the Friends of Casper Anonymous, where abandoned "friends" of the "love 'em and leave 'em" spook meet confidentially to work through their anger issues over Casper. There is Bonnie and Johnny, Dudley Duckling, Wheezy the Elephant, and the ghost of little Ferdie Fox; every couple weeks a rocket lands and King Luna and the Moon People arrive to join in the group hate session, and Luna details an attack plan on whatever haunted house Casper is holed up in that week. The meetings always fall apart when it is decided that Casper is hardly worthy of such attention and rage, but they all agree wholeheartedly that only a truly pathetic individual would spend even a day discussing the life and crimes of a middling cartoon character, let alone five days in a row.

Oh, I think they must be talking about me.



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



[Editor's note: The text and photos for this article were updated on 12/9/2015.]

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Bold King Cole (1936)

Bold King Cole (A Van Beuren Rainbow Parade cartoon, 1936)
Dir: Burt Gillett
TC4P Rating: 6/9

I am struck by how many people I know who get Felix the Cat – the star of silent animated films, bad TV series, and endless merchandising – and the alliteratively similar but decidedly far more, er, sexually obsessed Fritz the Cat confused with one another. 

Surely it is the "F" at the start of their five letter first names and the fact that they are both "the Cats" that cause the initial mental switch-up. But many times in the past I have been confronted by normally sane people who ask me, straight-faced, "Which one is in that movie? The animated one?" Of course, there is no truly clear answer to such a question, unless you take "that movie" to mean “the feature film,” since most people tend not to think of what they would consider a mere cartoon (and thus simple child’s play) as a “movie”. They are wrong, of course… a film of any length is still a movie, no matter its content or its intent of distribution or lack thereof. But, naturally (because you are dealing with idiots), you have to respond "Oh, that's Fritz the Cat". Those same persons, invariably, have generally not actually seen Ralph Bakshi's film of Fritz the Cat (and even less have read R. Crumb's original comix) any more than they have actually seen a silent Felix the Cat. Most have tended to merely know good ol’ Fritzie from his film's reputation as a dirty, dirty movie. 

As for Felix, who can still be found all over the place on T-shirts and mugs and clocks and what have you, even in the 21st century, it almost seems as if many people are not even aware that Felix was ever actually in theatrical cartoons, so little are they seen these days. Even though the original “the Cat” has somehow remained a popular cultural figure since his creation, some people can't get his name right. Or mixed up with a different cartoon cat that likes to get wasted and have lots of sex with loose animal girls of various species with robust figures.

An attempt in the mid-1930s was made by the Van Beuren studios and directors Burt Gillett and Tom Palmer to revive the character of Felix in their Rainbow Parade series (sort of like Disney’s Silly Symphonies, Warner’s Merrie Melodies, MGM’s Happy Harmonies, or Fleischer’s Color Classics, only by Van Beuren instead; every studio that wanted to be a major player in animation had to have a color series like this at a certain point.). As Felix had previously been a silent figure, and since, apparently, dialogue just had to be assigned to the Cat, Felix was affixed with a not unpleasant but rather unmemorable voice filled with golly-gee, can-do boldness. 

At the beginning of the last of the three Van Beuren Felix shorts, Bold King Cole, the Cat is also possessed of a sassy tenor croon, which he accompanies with guitar whilst hanging in a tree, singing about Nature and Me, surrounded by the flowering buds and chirping birds of the forest. Then a lightning storm shatters the serenity, and, of course, the lightning focuses in poor little Felix. The lightning bolts shoot and jab him repeatedly; one bolt even lights his head up like a 40-watt bulb, complete with element (an effect which, it turns out, he can switch on and off with his nose, and does, through the remainder of the picture). The bolts eventually chase him out of the forest and to the seeming shelter of a nearby castle. It is a jarring but charming opening; in fact, the first couple minutes of this cartoon are quite memorable, and if the remainder of the film had retained this early sense of wonder, it would have been terrific. Instead, it becomes monotonous and silly in the worst way, which is truly unfortunate given the fact that the film is populated by fanciful notions of ghosts and their ilk.

The castle is inhabited by the frightened retinue of an equally timid but boldly boastful monarch, Old King Cole of nursery rhyme fame. But there is no pipe nor bowl nor fiddlers three in this tale; rather, Cole is an insufferable braggart who shouts loudly of his bravery to all who will hear, but in his heart he is as much of a chicken as the rest of his subjects. Felix bangs frantically on the castle door to gain entrance and relief from the attacking storm, and the King has to answer the door as no one else will. So the monarch seizes the opportunity to prove how tough he is to a total stranger. He quickly descends upon the rescued Felix with a flurry of loudmouthed boasts, but the ghosts of the figures in the castle's paintings are sick and tired of hearing his Royal Longwindedness and set out to do something to stop him. 

The ghosts capture the king in the dungeon and torturously pump the hot air out of him, all the while singing a song with the refrain, "You talk too much, you talk too much". They then force him to listen to his own voice to teach him a lesson. Felix sees that the lightning storm has continued unabated, and formulates a plan to save the king from the ghosts. He uses the arms of a suit of armor to attract and funnel an array of lightning bolts into the dungeon, destroying the ghosts for good. The king pumps his own hot air back into his frame, and acts satisfied at the return of his plumpness. Felix and Cole laugh and sing about how they are "not afraid of anything,” but then a pair of mice, for no apparent reason, decide to manipulate and stage a battle between two suits of armor, causing the "heroes" to hide in fear. The mice complete their melee and call a truce, and the King and Felix come out of hiding. The King crowns the cat "Prince Felix" and switches his nose to turn on the lightbulb effect. Felix does the same to Old King Cole, and they laugh as the picture closes.

I like the lightbulb idea, but I wish they had put it to some good use throughout the picture. I especially like some of the bits in the opening lightning storm, such as when a bolt saws through a cloud like a knife through a loaf of bread and unleashes a torrent of rain upon the Cat. I also like it when a bolt hits the back of the tree that Felix is sitting in, and the tree jumps like a startled man kicked or poked in the seat of his pants. Much like the same year's The Goose that Laid the Golden Egg, there is an epic feel to the backgrounds and direction that the story itself doesn't bother to carry off, and we are left yet again with a wistful sense of "what could have been" had the story department been stronger in their support of a character sorely in need of better development.

At least Felix gets made a prince at the end of the story. Luckily for him, this film was made in 1936, almost forty years before the Bakshi cat movie, so the King doesn't mix up the names and declare him "Prince Fritz". Then Felix would have no choice but to go and hump one or both of the battling mice, the ghosts would have an orgy with the castle residents, and the King would really have something new to brag about...

Now that I think about it, this might have been the direction Van Beuren should have taken. Ah, what could have been... they could have beaten Hefner and Flynt to the punch.

RTJ

[This piece was edited and revised with new photos on September 13, 2016.]