123. Page Miss Glory (1936)

Release date: March 7th, 1936

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Tex Avery

Starring: The Varsity Three (Singing Waiters), Jackie Morrow (Abner), Berneice Hansell (Miss Glory), Tex Avery (Customer, "Time Marches On")

For the first time since 1934, someone other than Friz Freleng is directing a Merrie Melody—our good pal Tex. Throughout 1936 and 1937, Tex would do both Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes shorts, but eventually shifted over to doing a bulk of the Merrie Melodies, especially with Freleng’s departure in 1937. He’d only do a handful of (strictly) Looney Tunes shorts after 1937, those being The Haunted Mouse and Porky’s Preview, both 1941. Also notice how there’s no credits on the title card—according to Tex Avery, Leon Schlesinger was dating Leadora Congdon at the time, an artist from Chicago. An Art Deco inspired cartoon, bellhop Abner falls asleep on the job and dreams of what the esteemed Miss Glory’s arrival to the local hotel will be like.

Welcome to Hicksville, a remote, rural, hayseed little town. Towns people prepare a banner that proudly reads “HICKSVILLE WELCOMES MISS GLORY”. The local hotel is also preparing for her arrival, a forest of flowers covering the front desk. The manager orders Abner, a gangly, young, air-headed bellhop you hurry up and prepare for the big event. Abner spots an advertisement for cigarettes, the bellhop on the flyer (a reference to the bellhop mascot for Philip Morris Cigarettes) controlled and admirable. Determined, Abner imitates the bellhop’s pose, puffing out his chest and marching around with his spindly legs, bellowing “All for Miss Glooooryyyyy!” I love his design, the buck teeth, skinny legs and giant shoes convey a strong sense of lovable stupidity.

Abner marches over to a bench and waits patiently... until, unprompted, he zips back to where he was and douses himself in some perfume for good measure. The sound of a car horn approaches, and eagerly does Abner spring up, only to find two geese honking at each other. A long, drawn out horn has GOT to be Miss Glory. Or not. A cow strolls by, even looking inside as if to say “Nice try!” The set up and timing is fresh and amusing, and the backgrounds are exquisitely painted.

Time marches on, literally. A cuckoo clock springs open and a bird blares a fanfare, declaring Time marches on!” Abner’s now asleep on the bench, and his surroundings dissolve around him into an art deco paradise. Even his own design changes, like a reverse Buddy transformation—going from Buddy’s 1935 look back to his 1933 look.

The hotel grows into a beautiful high rise in the city, a sign out front donning it as the cosmopolitan hotel. A cheery underscore of “Lullaby of Broadway” welcomes the barrage of esteemed visitors—a long limousine produces a lanky woman in a red dress and blonde hair, whose face we do not see. There’s a great walk cycle of an old man parking his snazzy red car out front, appearing prim and proper as ever... until he waddles inside with a ridiculously entertaining walk cycle, carrying flowers.

He approaches Abner, who’s still asleep on the bench. A few rings of the desktop bell wakes him up in a jiffy, and the man orders him to page Miss Glory. Immediately, Abner is surrounded by a gang of men waving their arms and ordering him to page Miss Glory. Dutifully, Abner salutes, once more marching away and declaring “All for Miss Glooooorrryyyyyy!” He passes a waiter, and they swap contents—Abner now carries a bottle of beer and a shot glass on his tiny plate. He corrects the contents once more as he passes another waiter, the alcohol rightfully returned. A great, subtle gag as the pompous waiter passes by a plant. Once he comes out the other end, the bottle is empty, his nose is red, his pace much slower than before.

Look at those designs (well, Abner covers up one of 'em)! I love them! My love of Art Deco is ignited in this cartoon. The three waiters bob around and sing “Page Miss Glory”, vocals contributed by Abner as well. 

Lovely Art Deco styled bottles frame a man placing ice cubes into shot glasses like chimes—the borders of the scene black with bright green, flat, bottles. Two men shake cocktail shakers within an iris. Great detail as we go back to the chorus of waiters and Abner, wine glasses carelessly strewn about, some empty, some half full. Back to the two shakers, who pour the cocktail into a flute. The flute widens into a small, wide glass instead of the stereotypical tall, skinny champagne flute. Wonderfully creative as the drink is poured into the iris, now red. We see a tongue and some teeth appear as the drink flows right towards us, the iris mouth hiccupping and a hand gingerly covering the mouth.

Champagne bottles are popped to the beat of the music, except one, which refuses to open. The music stops and all we hear is awkward fizzing as the man squeezes the bottle like a toothpaste tube. The bottle finally pops and the chorus resumes as normal, fun and creative. Two orange/cherry garnishes dance over some cocktails with their toothpick legs, toppling into the drink. The chorus is finished out by the waiters once more, a hefty pile of wine glasses covering their faces as they sway around and wave their glasses in the air.

A pompous old woman in a striking yellow dress makes her presence known, strutting around. Abner mistakes her for Miss Glory—she turns around and continues to march on. Unfortunately, Abner accidentally has his foot on her dress, and the dress tears. She gasps “Oh!”, and grabs two palm fans to cover herself. Thus launches an elaborate, entertaining dance sequence as she twirls around, poking her head out of the fans and giving an incongruous old lady laugh. An absolutely wonderful scene, animated by Bob Clampett. She turns her back to the audience... until realizing that her back is exposed (she’s wearing a slip, don’t worry). She does a take, whips around and covers herself bashfully. A great scene full of Tex Avery humor—making the sophisticated as unsophisticated and unceremonious as possible.

A rather rotund man demands he wants service, to which Abner calls for said service. A waiter salutes, sticking out his leg and knocking over all of the other waiters next to him like dominoes. They scramble to throw a feast before the man, great timing as the whirlwind of food dies down and a waiter plucks a tiny cherry on top. Even better as the waiter forces his hand through the tower of goods as we watch with bated breath. He pulls out a tiny little olive on a fork, a closeup of him taking a tiny, delicate little bite. He placed the fork down, dabs his mouth, and leaves. Incongruity is strong, striking, and hilarious. I’d be willing to bet money that Tex Avery modeled for that character.

Suddenly, a man announces over an intercom that Miss Glory is here. Come to see America’s sweetheart. None of the guests need further invitation, including a decrepit old man in a wheelchair with a bandaged foot, who scrambles out of his chair and whirls forward (accompanied by the sound of a jet engine warming up), exclaiming “Hot diggity dog!” food is dropped, newspapers are dropped, decorum is dropped as everyone rushes to the elevator.

Abner attempts to dive in, too, but the doors slam in front of him. He tries again, and is booted out once more. The charade continues, faster and faster as Abner is carelessly thrown about, trying his damnest to get in. Eventually, he resorts to pulling back the arrow on the indicator and hopping inside. The elevator boy marches out just in time to hang up a sign that says “OUT TO LUNCH”.

An armada of men rush towards the screen, and we get a lovely transition to see the real Miss Glory—the blonde woman in red we caught a quick glimpse of at the beginning. The waiters sing another chorus of “Page Miss Glory”, chimes contributed by Abner who is furiously pressing every single button on the elevator to get it to work. A distance shot of the hotel and a lone elevator slingshotting up and down at great speeds. The perspective on the miss glory scenes are lovely, men walking right in front of the screen and even an overhead view. The elevator continues to zig zag to the music.

Finally, the elevator rises to the correct floor. Great perspective as Abner makes a break for it, yet the doors slamming him back inside. The malfunctioning elevator slingshots around once more, the force so strong it breaks the roof. Abner is propelled into the air and prepares to meet his demise. A ringing bell sound tricks us into thinking he’s breathed his last breath, but not at all—a train conductor is angrily ringing his bell to get Abner out of the road (lovely visuals as the skyscraper seems to extend further into the ground behind him).

Caricatures of Virgil Ross, Sid Sutherland, Bobe Cannon, Bob Clampett, Tex Avery, and Chuck Jones eagerly await the elusive Miss Glory's arrival.

The real Abner wakes up to find his hayseed hotel manager ringing the desk bell. Miss Glory has finally arrived, for real this time. A crowd (consisting of the Avery unit) gathers around an expensive limo, eagerly awaiting her arrival. Abner opens the door for his esteemed guest...

...and a cute little blonde marches out with a lollipop, an oversized sash bearing the title “MISS GLORY” nearly covering her entire body. Abner contorts his lanky body just to get a good look, exclaiming “Miss Glory!” Berneice Hansell works her baby voice magic as Miss Glory giggles “That’s me, big boy!” The shock is too much for Abner, who faints right into her arms. Miss Glory doesn’t mind, instead saying “Boy, do I slay em!” a few happy licks of her lollipop, and she orders “Play, Don!” to an offscreen musician (a reference to radio personality Jack Benny). Sure enough, an orchestral close and an iris out bring the cartoon to a close. The first of many instances where Tex Avery would make the cartoon's closing a gag itself.

What a BEAUTIFUL cartoon! Tex’s first Merrie Melody hits the ground running. The visuals are fresh, new, and exciting, from the backgrounds to the people to the props. Tex works his magic and adds his own humor so the cartoon isn’t too much of an ode to promoting the song—making the pompous as un-pompous as possible. At times, the cartoon does feel a little convoluted, as if Tex is juggling and trying to find a balance between humor, style, and song. I wonder if Leadora Congdon’s input serves as any detriment to Tex’s working style. I believe I read where he said he didn’t care for this cartoon in his later years, which I can understand. It’s not at all Tex’s best work, but considering what we’ve seen up until this point in time, it’s phenomenal. Absolutely worth watching. The visuals are stunning and that ending is just fantastic.

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