109. Buddy Steps Out (1935)

Release date: July 20th, 1935

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Jack King

Starring: Tommy Bond (Buddy), Berneice Hansell (Cookie, Campbell's Soup Kids)

It’s been awhile since Cookie’s been in a Buddy short—or it sure feels like it. This would be her last appearance, and Buddy’s second to last. I also find the animation credit for Chuck Jones as “Chas. Jones” funny, that’s a new one to me. Buddy and Cookie go out on a date, and the objects in Cookie’s house come to life, including a framed portrait of Buddy.

Cookie ends her career the way she began: dolling herself up for a date with Buddy. She coos at a bird in her birdcage to come on out, and together they sing/chirp “About a Quarter to Nine”. The sound of a doorbell interrupts their brief song number, and sure enough it’s Buddy, all bundled up in some Ccrooge-esque winter garb, tipping his top hat and greeting “Hello, Cookie!”

The bird senses the coast is clear, and flies over to the window, which is slightly ajar. A photograph of Buddy and a book also adorn the scene. Finally free for the night, the happy little bird flies through the window, singing its song and doing figure-eights in the night air.

A snowy draft begins to pick up, forcing the bird backwards against the wind. Portrait Buddy is no exception to the perils of the wind as the draft blows through the open window. He clings to the edge of his portrait, losing his hat in the process. A moment of peace as he crawls out of the portrait, opening a book to use as a bridge towards the windowsill. He hops onto the window, but his diminutive size does little to close the window. Another draft rips through, and he cries “Help! Help!” 

Thank goodness for a random statue of Atlas holding the globe. He places the world down gingerly, running to the rescue. He places Buddy inside the book and closes the cover, shutting the window with ease. Our hero plucks Buddy up and positions him back into his picture frame, much to Buddy’s gratitude. Buddy snags his hat from outside the frame and all is well.

Elsewhere, the bird, who has sought refuge on a weather vane, braves the storm and flies back towards Cookie’s house. Unfortunately for it, the window has been closed. The bird wipes away the frost and pecks its beak on the glass to get Buddy’s attention. Buddy notices the bird and enlists in Atlas’ help once more (“Atlas! Atlas ol’ boy! Give us a hand, partner!”) When he struggles to open the window. Atlas lifts up the window, and buddy plucks the frozen bird from the snow, the bird’s talons frozen in an ice block. 

Buddy scoops some snow off of the bird and scratches his head, pondering how he can thaw the frozen canary. He lifts the bird over his shoulder and coos “Poor birdie!” Ideas hatch as he jumps on a window blind, pulling the blinds down and hopping to the floor, bird in hand. He dashes across the floor to another window, riding the blinds up so he can land on a table. Though the “come to life” trope has been tried and true (emphasis on tried), it’s almost nice to see it again. It’s been awhile, or so I believe. The cartoons blend together in the Buddy era.

Turning on a lamp, buddy positions the bird onto an elaborate lamp base with a woman holding out a bowl. Buddy lights a match beneath the bowl, melting away the bird’s ice block restraint. Water fills the bowl as the ice melts, the bird sneezing hot water onto buddy. Buddy grabs a handkerchief and laughs, saying “Blow your nosey!” The bird obliges, blowing its nose (beak?) like a car horn. Once more Buddy gives a laugh and pats the bird on the head, saying “'Atta boy!” Delightfully disgusting and puzzling as he ties the same snot filled handkerchief around the bird’s head. Obviously it was supposed to read as cute and endearing, but instead it comes off as amusingly gross. The bird gives a few hearty chirps and kisses buddy’s forehead in thanks.

To celebrate its newfound freedom and vitalization, the bird clicks on the radio and chirps another verse of “About a Quarter to Nine”. Thus begins a tap dance routine with Buddy. I’ve really missed the tap dance routines! Whenever I think of Bosko, I always think of that great tap number in Bosko in Person. It’s refreshing to see it make a comeback, even if it is with buddy. The movements are crisp, fun, and flighty, music jolly. A nice detail of one of the knick knacks positioning a lamp like a spotlight.

To further the Harman-Ising nostalgia of tap dance routines, some more objects come to life. A joker leaps out of its playing card and does some not so soft soft-shoeing, whereas a chorus of Campbell’s Soup kids sing “About a Quarter to Nine” in the trademark Berneice Hansell baby voice. A pig on a “SNIFF’S SPECIAL HAMS” label also lends his voice.

Some sort of ambiguous bug also sing a chorus, lazing around in a sink, rowing itself along in the water with a spoon. Conveniently, a tin of bug spray is positioned by the sink. The soldier on the label comes to life and sprays the bug to eradicate it. Naturally, the bug flees. It attempts to climb out of the sink, grabbing at a box of suds instead and filling the sink with bubbles. The bug pops it’s head out of the water, expelling bubbles out of its mouth and singing some more. The Harman-Ising feel is certainly strong in this one.

Meanwhile, an alarm clock perched by the window spots Buddy and Cookie bracing their way through the snow squall. Urgently does the clock ring, its piercing alarm sending everyone scrambling back into their places, including portrait Buddy.

Everyone situates themselves just in time as Cookie unlocks the door. She steps inside and bids Buddy goodnight, Buddy kissing her hand. What a charmer. Cookie admires her portrait of Buddy, sighing “Isn’t he a dear?” She showers the picture in kisses, adding “You darling!” We get a view of photo-Buddy covered in lipstick. He glances at Cookie before glancing back at the audience, giving a lipstick covered wink as we iris out.

As far as Buddy cartoons go, this wasn’t bad at all. It had more excitement than usual. It felt fresh, which is ironic considering it calls back to the days of Harman-Ising. The song numbers were very fun to watch, with Buddy doing his tap routine and Hansell lending her squeaky baby voice for the Campbell’s Soup kid chorus. Both Buddys, real and photograph, lacked discernible personality, and Cookie wasn’t very riveting herself, but at this point you develop a tolerance for it. While I think you’d be fine if you skipped it, this is one where it wouldn’t kill you to watch it, either. Nothing particularly riveting or enthralling, but much more endearing and watchable than some of the other Buddys we’ve seen. His clock is ticking! One more short and he’s kicked to the curb.

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