157. The Fella with the Fiddle (1937)

Release date: March 27th, 1937

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Friz Freleng

Starring: Mel Blanc (The Fella with the Fiddle, Butler), Billy Bletcher (Grandpa Mouse), Stanley Fields (Tax Assessor), Berneice Hansell, Shirley Reed (Grandchildren)

One of the handful of titles spelled erroneously with the Blue Ribbon issue, and despite being not being shown BECAUSE of the reissue, this is master animator Ken Harris’ first animation credit. He joined the crew with Freleng’s Little Dutch Plate back in 1935, but only got a credit until now! Harris was one of the top animators at WB, if not the top, and for great reason. 

On another note, Mel gets another substantial role as the eponymous fella with the fiddle. A grandfather tells the story about a greedy mouse posing as a blind person to collect some extra cash. But, like always, there’s a twist. 

Open to the abode of J. Field Mouse, as indicated by the mailbox outside his tree home. Inside, the presumed mouse lounges in his armchair, chuffing on a cigar, perusing a newspaper, trying to relax while his grandchildren run and scream and play around him. Peace was never an option. Suddenly, the ringing of a bell outside signals for all the children to congregate by the window.

Even though it’s night, the ringing is the telltale chime of the ice cream man. The kids crowd around their grandfather, begging for a nickel. “Grandpa, give us a nickel, grandpa!” The grandpa happily obliges, tossing a nickel out in the middle of the floor for the kids to catch. Perfect way to get those little brats away! The kids dogpile one one another, scrambling to get access to that beautiful silver coin. In the midst of their struggle, the coin rolls away from the fight, falling into a crack between the floorboards. 

The once chipper grandfather looms over the kids wirh a frown. “So, you WILL be greedy!” He shakes his head. “Now I’ll tell you a story about a mouse who WAS greedy… and came to a bad end.” A bit of a stark transition in the grandfather’s demeanor, but you can’t have the exposition taking all day.

“‘twas the fella with the fiddle.” Grandpa pantomimes a fiddle, with the appropriate sound effects. He lays out the beginning of the story, telling the children that the fiddling fella bought a violin, playing until his arms got sore and breaking 100 strings or more (the children whistle in impressed awe). The choice to incorporate the sounds of a fiddle with each pantomime was a good one at that. (fun fact: Friz Freleng was a classically trained violinist!)

While the grandpa recounts the story, the surroundings melt away into the actual fella with the fiddle. Mel Blanc provides the vocals, singing the criminally catchy song, which is definitely one of my favorite Merrie Melody songs. Mel’s falsetto as he sings “The girls say ‘oh!’” is hilarious, and just the first of MANY falsettos in his career. 

The fella with the fiddle appears to be blind, sporting sunglasses and even posting signs that read HELP THE BLIND. One passerby in particular is especially curious, a seedy fellow who waves his hand in front of the fella with the fiddle’s eyes. No reaction. Filled with twisted glee, the passerby reaches into the donations cup, when the fella with the fiddle knocks him on the knuckles with his bow with the utmost nonchalance, continuing his song. Wonderful comedic timing.

After the song is over, the fella with the fiddle hobbles his way home, using his cane to guide him along. He reaches his shack of a home, when suddenly he lifts his glasses, whipping around the house corners to ensure he has no followers. Some blind guy! As to be expected. With the coast clear, the mouse puffs out his chest and strolls inside. Even better than the blind fake out is his interior fake out: his worn down shack is lavishly furnished with chandeliers, rugs, gilded furniture and the like, a fitting accompaniment of “With Plenty of Money and You” to further the mouse’s wealth status.

But Friz doesn’t stop there. The mouse’s butler bids him good evening, the mouse dropping his sunglasses in his top hat and offering them to the butler to stow away. The mouse changes in the closet, now donning a tuxedo (gotta make yourself comfortable at home!) as he strolls across the living room to access his safe. A loony tradition we’ve been seeing since the Goopy Geer days in 1932. The mouse opens his safe, and the one behind it, and then the wooden safe behind THAT one. Friz maintains his comedic momentum as the mouse takes out a long sock, the top closed off like another safe. Genius.

Content, the mouse situated himself at the dining table, eagerly opening the safe. A sea of gold coins pour out onto the table, and the mouse runs his fingers through them, letting the gold shower himself and the table. Did you know he’s rich? Just a hunch.

Suddenly, a few aggressive knocks on the door. The mouse freezes. “Who’s there?” Billy Bletcher’s voice rings loud and clear behind the door. “It’s the tax assessor!” 

We get a taste of our first Mel Blanc scream as the mouse repeats dubiously, “Tax assessor? …TAX ASSESSOR!?” I gotta say, while Mel is subdued in this cartoon in comparison to future roles, he’s certainly versatile. It’s like Friz wanted to see what he was capable of: singing, doing low grunts and womanly falsettos in said song, and now screaming. The whole package! Mel does a wonderful job as the mouse. Not the most memorable role, but it’s something.

What launches next is an epic transformation sequence as the mouse desparately scrambles to hide his lavish lifestyle. He scoops his money back into the sock, throwing it back in the safe(s) and locking it up tight, then rushing to transform the interior. Reversing walls, flipping portraits, pulling ragged curtains, replacing pianos with stoves, couches with rickety beds. The animation of the mouse turning the wall around to reveal the bed is particularly nice. A great, high energy sequence.

Meanwhile, the tax collector grows increasingly impatient, pounding on the door. Finally, the mouse, now donning his poor man’s disguise, allows him inside. He puts on his best act. “Good evenin’! Could you spare a dime for a cup of coffee?” The tax collector obliges by dumping the ashes of his cigar in the mouse’s outstretched palm. “So, you’re a poor guy, eh?” 

Stalling’s minor key rendition of the title song does wonders to add to the apprehension and slyness of the scene, accentuated when the mouse spots one of his shiny gold coins still perched on top of a table in plain sight. The mouse retrieves the coin as fast as he can, a sly grin on his anxious face as the tax collector ogles at him.

Nevertheless, the invasion begins. The tax collector parks himself on a rickety old chair, and receives quite a surprise when the floorboard spins 360 degrees beneath him. Floored, the inspector jumps up. “What’s goin’ on here?” more questions raised as he leans against a button, the stove now spinning in the same way, nearly revealing the grand piano on the other side of the wall. Friz does a lovely job with the build up and suspense. Still funny, but definitely drawn out and apprehensive. 

“Say, what kind of a joint is this anyway?” The spinning room reaches its full gag potential as the interior goes haywire, hectic speeds of flashing walls, furnishings, and so on. Certainly feels like something from one of Tex Avery’s cartoons at MGM, not even Warner Bros! The speed and comedic timing is in tip top shape and makes for a hilarious, fresh, ahead of its time gag. Great work by Ken Harris.

Friz’s momentum is insanely strong in this cartoon. He keeps outdoing himself with his own gags, and the payoff is very strong (a trend that would continue throughout his entire career. He and Chuck Jones had very satisfying and hilarious payoffs!) Terrified, the tax collector darts out of the house, breathing a sigh of relief. Ever so slowly does he pull out a bottle of whiskey from his jacket, tossing it away. Absolutely genius. 

In order to fake out the fake out, the tax collector pretends to storm away as audibly as possible. With a shady grin, he slides back to the door. Inside, the mouse is reverting his shack back to its old, lavish self. The jiggle of the doorknob serves as morse code to the mouse, who suddenly realizes he still has company. In a flurry, he restores his shack to its country, rickety glory, just in time to flash a sheepish grin to the angry tax collector barging in. Pissed, he takes his leave once more.

Fed up, the tax collector begins to march away, when a giant cat stops him in his tracks. Terrified, the tax collector scrambles through the junkyard, creating his own path in all of the cans, the cans falling back down. The cat merely looks on. While this gag is seemingly useless, this is one of the earliest blackout gags we’ve seen.

At peace, the greedy mouse rifles through his golden coins in ecstasy once more. Yet, once more, he has company. Not the tax collector, but the cat. To lure him out, the cat places a golden coin in a mouse trap (good) and positions it by a mouse hole. Greedy is the mouse, but not too smart… or is he? 

Friz fakes us out as the mouse darts through the traps, snagging the coin and running back inside with it in his clutches. I was honestly expecting the obligatory Merrie Melody chase scene, so this was a GREAT surprise.

Now, the cat opts for a gold crown instead, placing a crown on one of his teeth and winking knowingly at the audience. The cat whistles, pointing to its tantalizing tooth. The mouse tries to fight the urge, dramatically posing in resistance, but the urge is just too overwhelming. The mouse runs out and back in with the tooth… and only the tooth. No crown to be found. Finally, the mouse runs back into the cat’s mouth for a third and final time. The cat’s got him. We see the last of the greedy mouse, who desperately pounds against the closed jaws of the beast from inside, but to no avail. Such is the life.

Back to the grandpa mouse, lounging in his armchair as he finishes the story to his enraptured grandchildren. One of the curious mice piques up “Did he eat him ALL up, grandpa?” Grandpa answers in the affirmative, that yes, he did. Suddenly, we’re treated for a surprise: one of the grandchildren notices a shiny, gold tooth hanging from the grandfather’s pocket. Iris out as the kid grimaces, blowing on a party streamer to signal that the alibi is baloney.

This is one of the most enjoyable Merrie Melodies we’ve seen so far, at least for me. Don’t let the simple looks fool you. I was already excited going in, seeing as Mel had a big role and that the song was so damned catchy, but I didn’t think it would nearly be as funny as it was. Friz was on an absolute roll in this one–his momentum never stops. Revealing the blind mouse isn’t blind at all, living a lavish lifestyle, or the gag where the tax collector throws out his bottle of whiskey after the ever changing interiors… this is a great cartoon that throws a ton of curveballs at you. 

Not that Tex Avery is the end all be all of animation, nor is he the only good one at the studio, but the Avery influence has rubbed off on Friz and Tashlin. The Merrie Melodies are funny, sardonic, the Disney roots crumbling before our very eyes. This is one of the funniest cartoons I believe we’ve seen. Is it the funniest ever? Absolutely not, and it probably stands at being mediocre compared to the other fantastic cartoons Looney Tunes entails. But for these reviews, it’s important to keep that 1937 mindset, trying to view it with fresh eyes and comparing it with the past instead of the future (though I do like to draw my connections.) Absolutely check it out! Go watch it now! 

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