Dancing on the Moon (1935)

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

There are shots in Dancing On the Moon alone that make the entire Max Fleischer Color Classics series worthwhile. Long revered by cartoon fans for their unique visual depth, but top loaded with overly sentimental pap and cutesy pie characters, the Fleischers’ desire to match Disney's Silly Symphonies led to stagnation in the story department, and there are very few films in the series that actually approach the self-described "Classics" label. But everyone has their favorites in the series; I can quickly name three that I have adored for years, not so much because they are technically perfect cartoons in all categories, but merely because they are terrific (sometimes scary) fun and have held up for me over the years: Cobweb Hotel, Small Fry, and the 1935 film I am discussing here, Dancing on the Moon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it:

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

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

LIGHTHOUSE-KEEPING BLUES (1964)

Lighthouse-Keeping Blues (A Walter Lantz Cartune, 1964) 
Dir: Sid Marcus
Cel Bloc Rating: 7/9

I am continually struck over the public's (and the media's) obsession with placing penguins at the North Pole, often with polar bears and eskimos, or placing the latter two groups with the former at the South Pole. Sometimes they get it right, and the penguin is found in the correct frigid end of Earth. More often, they get it , not so much wrong, since they really don't seem to care in the first place, but just... well... weird. Sure, every once in a while Disney will put Pablo Penguin on the right block of ice, as in The Three Caballeros segment The Cold-Blooded Penguin, but that proves to be the exception, as Bugs Bunny ends up at a pole with a cute penguin and an Eskimo (or Humphrey Bogart, for that matter); Coca-Cola makes a mint off of the concept, even throwing Santa Claus into the mix; or, in the Walter Lantz shorts, Chilly Willy ends up cavorting about with a misplaced Maxie the Polar Bear. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

And there is certainly not anything wrong in Lighthouse-Keeping Blues from 1964. Ably directed by the underrated Sid Marcus, Blues features a very sleepy Chilly Willy bedding down for a nice, quick six-month nap. We know this to be so due to the color-bisected face of his alarm clock, with the dark half reading "Winter" and the light half reading "Summer". Just before this, we met Smedley the dog performing his titular duties on a nearby lighthouse, maintaining the upkeep on the place steadfastly, all whilst singing a happy cleaning song. As Chilly Willy tries to zip off to a prolonged dreamland, Smedley turns the light on, and sadly for him, it shines right smack into Willy's igloo. (He is sure to pay for this.) The little bird pulls the blind on his window, but the light eventually gains entry through a pinhole in the fabric, and the penguin has to climb out of bed and move his entire igloo, bed and all, across the ice a few feet to avoid the glare. However, the light merely reflects numerous times off of the ice and bounces right back into his face.

Chilly takes the process to the next level, and boats angrily over to the lighthouse, climbs the stairs, and turns the light off. As he departs the lighthouse, Smedley takes notice of him and informs the audience, "Little penguin feller. Lots of 'em down here", quite nonchalantly. Then, the dog receives a phone call from his supervisor, who grouchily tells him to get the light back on. Smedley does so, and Chilly Willy returns; this time, though, he takes out a hammer and smashes the light to pieces. Smedley sends Willy flying in a giant spring-loaded boat launcher, and Willy and his craft skid across the water and smash gracelessly through the penguin's abode. Obviously, in the words of Bugs Bunny, this means war...

After another irate phone call from the boss, Smedley replaces the giant broken bulb, but Willy arrives to smash it anew with his slingshot. This time, when the dog tries to shoot Willy from the launcher, it backfires, and Smedley is sent crashing into a buoy. Another phone call with a warning of immediate job loss and a sock in the eye through the receiver, and Smedley again replaces the bulb. And again, Willy smashes it. Then another new bulb -- SMASH! And another -- SMASH! Then Willy takes an axe in hand and chops the power cord into little bits, and Smedley frantically tries to ties the numerous ends back together.

But Chilly Willy is off to even bigger prey: he heads to the store room to destroy all of the giant light bulbs, which he does gleefully, one by one. Smedley tries to catch him, but Chilly Willy ducks into a nearby pipe. Smedley tries to go in after him, but it turns out to be a foghorn, and Willy blows it in time to send Smedley crashing into the Danger Signal Room. Naturally, the dog scratches a match in the darkness, and in that brief interval of newly lighted realization, poor Smedley sees himself surrounded by stacks of explosives. The Danger Signal Room goes up, and so does Smedley's lighthouse, taking off into space like a rocket, and even going the extra step of falling apart in stages so that only the top of the lighthouse goes into orbit around the Earth. 

Chilly Willy goes back to the comfort of his bed for his delayed and much-needed nap, but it turns out that he and Smedley have battled the winter away, and to Chilly's great surprise, his alarm clock blares loudly. Chilly's response is swift and brief: he smashes the clock to smithereens violently with a hammer, and settles back into bed for a long summer's nap.

This cartoon builds wonderfully and almost perfectly, from the small steps of somewhat bothersome busywork at the beginning, progressing through larger and more violent set pieces until the grand fireworks display of the climax. The pacing is wonderful, and the cartoon at all points tells you just enough information about the participants to move the story along. There is no excess dialogue getting in the way of the story, just the exact amount needed, which is not the case with many of the latter day Walter Lantz pictures. 

In the case of a Chilly Willy cartoon, this might be easier to achieve since the character is largely a silent figure, whereas in a Woody Woodpecker cartoon, the hero is known for his loud-mouthed wise-assery. But with a gabby character like Smedley on the loose, there could have been the compulsion to gum the thing up with unnecessary lines, such as DePatie-Freleng often did when ruining Pink Panther films with overly talkative antagonists. Fortunately, Marcus reined in the Daws Butler-voiced canine, and kept the focus squarely on the inspired antics.

And, fortunately, there are no polar bears hanging about in the Antarctic. Nothing against Maxie the Polar Bear (whom I quite like). But there is no place for him at the South Pole. It's just not believable.

Now, a snowcap-wearing penguin sleeping in a bed and doing battle with a talking dog over a lighthouse? That makes perfect sense...

RTJ

*****

[This article was updated on 1/13/16.]

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.]