111. Buddy the Gee Man (1935)

Release date: August 24th, 1935

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Jack King

Starring: Billy Bletcher (Jail Warden, Prisoners), Jackie Morrow (Buddy), Abe Dinovitch (Machine Gun Mike)

23 cartoons. 5 dogs. 3 and a half designs. 3 girlfriend designs. 3 years. 2 voice actors. Buddy’s legacy comes to a close with Buddy the Gee Man, and what an unmemorable ride it’s been. I don’t hate him as much as I thought I would have, but I don’t nearly like him as much as I would have liked to. Some cartoons he’s more insufferable than others (though Jackie Morrow is cute and does a good voice performance for him, I find something about the voice very unfitting and annoying. Maybe I just hate hearing Buddy say stuff like “blow your nosey” or speaking in rhyme.) Buddy bids us farewell as he works as an undercover detective, investigating happenings at the local sing song prison.

A shot of a door labeled department of justice. A man possesses a letter, which we see is addressed to buddy — “Federal Agent Buddy, 000 1/2 Cornbread Ave., Kansas City, MO” (we know where he lives, boys, let’s get ‘im!). The man deposits the letter into the mail chute, and sure enough Buddy opens it up. He’s being sent to conduct a “secret investigation” on the warden at the local Sing Song prison, investigating the warden’s treatment towards the prisoners. Buddy inconspicuously dons the perfect disguise—a mustache. Genius! No one will ever know! 

Buddy dons his trademark captain’s hat as he prepares to embark on his journey. He pulls out a horseshoe in his pocket (which has a nail through one of the pegs, already a lucky sign) and tosses it for luck. Luck is promising as the horseshoe shatters a mirror behind him. Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to throw horseshoes in the house? Flummoxed, Buddy scratches his head and shrugs.

What’s an adventure without a faithful dog companion? Buddy enlists in his dog Gee-Man for help, who’s conveniently donning a sherlock hat and pipe. Buddy whispers in his ear, the dog perking up instantly.

A crowd congregates in town as a sea of voices clash against each other. Buddy and his dog use a matryoshka of people lined together as stairs to hop straight into the crowd (reused from Buddy the Gob). Elsewhere, a pig asks a hurried frog “What’s all the excitement?” the frog answers “They’re taking Machine Gun Mike to sing song prison!” The voice acting is so bad it’s good. Mel’s absence is sorely missed. 2 more years! 

We then get a shot of Machine Gun Mike, who’s getting hauled away by the police. Aggravated by the attention, he yells at the crowd in an attempt to scare them off. Buddy and his dog hitch a ride on the back of the police car, the car exploding a plume of exhaust on a man peeking out from a manhole.

At the prison, a guard is asleep in his lookout tower. He snaps awake once a motorcade of motorcycles escort the convict. Buddy and his dog make it safely into the jail.

Buddy’s dog sniffs the ground while buddy creeps around, the dynamic duo halting at a door. The door is emblazoned “OTTO B. KINDER — WARDEN”. Curious, Buddy pokes his head inside the office. The warden paces around his office, scowling. Seems his name is prophetic.

Some nice music making merriment as a gaggle of prisoners sing “Lulu’s Back in Town” in harmony, because why not? The jail warden is infuriated, slamming his fist down on his desk. Instead he sends a tray of papers flying onto his head. He then marches over to the prisoners, shouting at them to be quiet. A lovely Billy Bletcher bellow. Buddy and his faithful companion observe, Buddy scribbling down some notes.

Elsewhere, one of the prisoners gossips with Machine Gun Mike, holding out a letter and sneering “Get a load of this.” A love letter. Machine Gun Mike grunts “Not bad.” A prison guard marches towards the cells, carrying a harpoon gun. At the tip of the harpoon point is a letter, which he gingerly bestowed upon machine gun mike. Mike snatches it up. It reads:

“In omitting top name, send that person ten cents (10¢) as a charity donation—is this worth a dime?”

 the other jailbird laughs, while Mike crumples the letter up and throws it to the ground. Overhearing the obnoxious laugh of the prisoner, the warden stalks back to the cells and orders the prisoner to be quiet—Billy Bletcher shutting up Billy Bletcher. Buddy dutifully jots down more notes. The warden hates singing AND laughing.

In the courtyard, a prisoner slacks off and dinkily taps a rock he’s supposed to be breaking. The warden chews him out, handing him a bigger mallet and demanding he get to work. Dutifully, the prisoner swings the mallet behind his head, anticipating a great swing. The mallet smacks the warden in the head and his head sinks into his jacket, a lovely visual as his head pops out of his stomach area, yelling “What’s the idea?” Buddy and his pal take more notes, gee-man writing the notes with his tail instead.

Machine Gun Mike plans a not so subtle escape. He stuffs his ball and chain into a cannon, hoping the fire of the cannon will propel him out of the prison. He anticipates the ride... nothing. Instead, the CANNON flies backwards. The warden busts Mike and snarls “Get to work!” 

Satisfied with his observations, Buddy heads to the typewriter to transcribe his report. It reads: 

24 Pennsylvania Ave.

Washington, D.C.

Dear Chief: 

Inspection completed. Recommend change in warden. Have some new ideas how prison should be run.

Buddy.

Time marches on, and a newspaper headline zooms into view, declaring Buddy as the new warden of the jail. “BUDDY MADE WARDEN! Local boy makes good.” 

Sure enough, buddy greets a receptive crowd of prisoners, asking “Is everybody happy?” in the style of Ted Lewis. The prisoners cheer in unison. Quite a turnaround in atmosphere! A shot of the happy go lucky jail—including a few prisoners whacking the old warden on the head with some mallets. Corny as that is, I can’t help but love it. Buddy even serves ICE CREAM to the prisoners. I suppose that’s what happens when you put a boy in charge of a prison unit, a very funny concept.

The happy prisoners sing while carrying their ice cream, one prisoner receives a shoe shine as Buddy offers him a cigar. Elsewhere, a man carrying a letter inquired for Machine Gun Mike. He asks two happy prisoners—the sound of a machine gun answers the postman’s question as the prisoners answer “Machine Gun Mike.” 

A great, incongruous setup as the machine gun sound is actually revealed to be a jackhammer. Machine Gun Mike blows a cloud of cigar smoke in the face of the hapless mailman, snatching his letter. The letter pardons machine gun mike from his parole, signed by Hans Cuff. I love my puns, but they definitely feel a bit TOO coy. Funnily enough, Mike lights the letter with his cigar and continues with his jackhammering.

One last shot of the sleeping jail guard in the lookout tower. He awakens as a crowd barrels through the gates. They all want a slice of Buddy’s prison heaven. Free ice cream, cigars, shoe shines... who wouldn’t want to be there? Buddy pops up over the gate and displays a sign that says “NO VACANCIES”. We iris out one last time on our hero, who takes off his hat and waves it to the crowd.

Another “second watch saved my opinion” short. First time I watched this, I found it incoherent and difficult to understand. I think I was so distracted thinking about how this was Buddy’s last appearance that I didn’t focus much on the details. It wasn’t bad, though! I think there are definitely worse shorts Buddy could have ended his career on. The prisoners were very entertaining and had much more personality than Buddy did—the warden and Machine Gun Mike were especially entertaining. Nothing too funny, and the puns felt a bit overboard at times, but the animation was decent—I did like the gag of the warden popping his head out of his shirt buttons to yell at one of the prisoners. An above average cartoon that may be worth a watch, just for how absurdly silly it is.

And now, onto Buddy. What to say about him? He was definitely as mediocre as I had expected, maybe even more so. It was interesting to see how Buddy progressed, especially thinking of how far we’ve come since Buddy’s Day Out and Buddy’s Beer Garden. I liked Buddy’s final design the best—at first I had really liked Tom Palmer’s design in Buddy’s Day Out, but I think his final design is more suitable, especially for the adventurer persona he adopted later on. Jack Carr’s voice for Buddy fit him better than Jackie Morrow’s. Nothing against Jackie, who was a literal child while voicing him. I love that! But I think Jack Carr’s voice was a good balance between youthful adult and child, like his appearance. Buddy definitely came off as more of a child in his last handful of shorts, and was thusly more annoying. I never particularly liked Buddy, and sometimes he annoyed me much more than other times, but... his cartoons all blend together. I can’t really discern a particular favorite, and the fact that he only has 23 cartoons amazes me. It felt like 230! However, if anything, he’s intriguing for historical purposes. I can say I’ve seen every buddy cartoon so you don’t have to! Beans will take over for his 9 cartoons of fame, Tex Avery will come into play, and our favorite stuttering porcine will climb up the rungs and really make a splash as 1936 goes on.

That’s all, Buddy! 

Link!