175. Speaking of the Weather (1937)

Release date: September 4th, 1937

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Frank Tashlin

Starring: Mel Blanc (Leopold Stokowski, Cholly Jam, Sanwich, Walter Snitchall, Tarzan, Dog), Billy Bletcher (Prisoner, Judge), Danny Webb (Ted Lewis, Ned Sparks), Tex Avery (Bob Burns), The Debutants (Chorus)

A Frank Tashlin directed Merrie Melody? Yes, you’ve got that right! Tashlin finally joins Friz Freleng and Tex Avery in directing the more expensive, prioritized Merrie Melodies. Considering Tashlin was so outspoken with his disdain for Porky, I’m sure this was a breath of fresh air for him, finally able to use his talents elsewhere.

Inspired by the early days of Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising (as he himself conceded), Tashlin makes his Merrie debut by sticking to a genre tried and true: books coming to life. Tashlin would direct three of these, the other two being Have You Got Any Castles? and You’re an Education. Ironically, the latter would be his final WB entry in the ‘30’s, getting fired from the studio after an argument and then making his return in 1943 with the tour de force Porky Pig’s Feat. 

For now, we’re treated with a variety of “books coming to life” gags–including a plot with an escaped convict.

Open to the cityscape in the dark, a yellow clock face illuminating the silhouettes against the deep, blue, sky. The camera trucks out and pans over to a drug store, complete with that streamlined, Frank Tashlin look–these opening backgrounds are nothing short of gorgeous. 

The backgrounds in the Tashlin cartoons, both black and white and in color, have always been some of my favorites. I’m not so sure who does the backgrounds in Tashlin’s unit here, though I do know a man by the name of Art Loomer was in charge of the background department in the ‘30′s. The background artists didn’t get credits until the mid ‘40′s, so sometimes trying to identify them can be a bit of a guessing game. But I digress! 

Inside the pharmacy, we pan across the seemingly interminable magazine shelves. Everything is coated in a dark shadow, until the camera focuses on a spotlighted magazine–radio stars, with musical comedian Bob Burns–labeled as “Bob Boins” on the magazine cover–playing the bazooka (a trademark of his) to the tune of “With Plenty of Money and You”. Certainly a frequent tune in the 1937 cartoons! A nice, simple choice to do a close up of him playing the instrument and gasping for air–the solid yellow background really brings out the animation and makes it the priority, so that the audience isn’t distracted by extraneous details. Plus, saves paint, saves money! 

After more strenuous playing, the bazooka breaks into pieces. Segue into another close-up, the skillful, dynamic animation belonging to none other than Bob McKimson, who was one of the studio’s best animators (if not best!) and later a director. The animation is strikingly realistic, perhaps even offputting–it looks quite similar to his animation of Uncle Sam in Chuck Jones’ Old Glory a mere two years later. 

Burns tells us “Y’know folks, I can’t play this bazooka as good as Uncle Fudd back in Van Buren. We know him as Uncle Fudd, you know him as Ted Lewis!” The Uncle Fudd bit is lost on me, but the van buren reference is a nod to Bob Burns’ title: The Arkansas Traveler. Burns would often reminisce about family stories back in Van Buren, arkansas. Coincidentally, Frank Tashlin worked at Van Beuren studios before rejoining the Warner Bros. staff as a director.

A clarinet toting Lewis gives his trademark catchphrase of “Is everybody happy?”, prompting Ned Sparks (known for his deadpan demeanor) to grovel “No!” in response. 

Nevertheless, Lewis launches into a rendition of “With Plenty of Money and You” on his clarinet, sparking an entire dance party from the magizines: a beaver from the cover of outdoor life strums the bass with its tail, a pair of silhouettes dance together on the cover of “[The] Dance” magazine (as well as a pair of boxers from “The Ring”), and two dandelions from “House and Garden”, with animation reused from Friz Freleng’s 1935 short Flowers for Madame.

Lewis ends his song by doing a variety of very smoothly animated acrobatics, including some wonderfully fluid animation of him twisting through his own legs. Toys (reused from Toy Town Hall, among other cartoons) from Child Life magazine cheer him on, as does a jovial, giggling Hugh Hubert reused from The Coo-Coo Nut Grove, all underscored by a brief rendition of “The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down”. The number is complete as Lewis takes a bow, with some nice animation of his coattails shaking their anthropomorphic fists in the applause.

Elsewhere, more magazine gags: a snake charmer on the cover of “Asia” magazine woos a hose on the cover of “Better Homes and Gardens”, prompting it to dance and spit out water. The water rains down upon famed conductor Leopold Stokowski (who collaborated with Walt Disney in the making of Fantasia a few years later), who dons the cover of “The Etude”. The underscore is, fittingly, “September in the Rain”, also the title of a Friz Freleng Merrie Melody. Stokowski opens up his sheet music: William Tell’s “The Storm”. 

Pressing a button, a mini windshield wiper wipes away the raindrops from the music sheets. The rain animation is very well done, especially pooling on top of the music. My guess would be that this is A.C. Gamer at work, Warner Bros.’ effects animator.

The decision to have silence (save for the sound effects of Stokowski tapping his music stand and the rain) prelude the oncoming rendition of “The Storm” is a powerful one indeed. Stokowski directs with all his might, pulling his hair and moving spastically, mirroring the intensity of his music… and then comedic timing swoops in wonderfully well as he bursts into a slightly off tune rendition of the title song, “Speaking of the Weather”, sparking the music portion of the short. This is probably my favorite song that has a Merrie Melody in its honor–it’s very catchy, both the original version and the cartoon’s rendition! 

Quite a bit of animation is reused from previous cartoons in this one, but the decision to reuse animation from a Tom Pallmer cartoon took me by surprise. Three women (the Boswell sisters) seated at a piano sing the chorus, reused from 1933′s I’ve Got to Sing a Torch Song. For those who don’t know, Tom Palmer lasted a never-ending stint of 2 cartoons at Warner Bros. before getting fired on account of how poor his shorts were.

Elsewhere, a caricature of Lydia Pinkham sings affectionately to a caricature of Clark Gable (reused from The Coo-Coo Nut Grove) , who cleverly dons the cover of “Woman’s Home Companion” magazine. Elsewhere, tongue sandwiches stick out their human tongues and “la la lala” along to the rhythm, reused from Buddy’s Beer Garden. 

The tongue sandwich gag would be reused even as recently as Bob Clampett’s 1941 Goofy Groceries–for all I know, he could have been responsible for the original gag in Buddy’s Beer Garden in the first place. You often have to take some of his claims of what he made with a grain of salt, but he did mention that he pioneered the whole “___ come to life” sequences at Warner’s, so it serves as some food for thought! 

More gags include a teapot (reused from Little Dutch Plate) whistling along to the rhythm, a caricature of Greta Garbo reading a book and using her shoes as a rocking chair, a dancing lobster whose frequented many cartoons, debuting in How Do I Know it’s Sunday?, and clams clacking to the rhythm. 

As the song winds to an end, topped off with the cheering toys from earlier (as well as oddly segmented animation of Hugh Hubert jamming his fingers together in applause), a shifty looking crook (animated by Volney White) furtively sneaks out of his post from “The Gang” magazine. I LOVE the choice to slow down the beat of the music at the appearance of the gangster–the rhythm becomes much more furtive and cautious. 

More White animation as the gangster uses a spare blowtorch to burn off the front of a safe plastered on “The Magazine of Wall Street and Business”. Pan over to a caricature of fictional detective Charlie Chan, telling the convict that he’s under arrest. The fade to the next scene obscures the animation, but there’s a nice little bit of animation as Chan twirls his gun in satisfaction. 

Next scene, the criminal (whose bellows are provided by none other than Billy Bletcher) gives his confession, obscured by silhouettes–bright pink silhouettes, a jarring yet intriguing design choice. His interrogation takes place, of course, on true confessions magazine. 

The judge, also voiced by Bletcher, sentences the criminal to life… magazine, a gag that would be reused 9 years later in Book Revue–my favorite of this book series. I didn’t notice this until the time of writing this review, but the animation of the judge is rather whimsical and fun: he has a tattoo of a pinup girl on his forearm (labeled Mabel), and as he jabs his finger through his long beard in the midst of his sentencing, flies flutter out to indicate his age. 

Struggling against the bars, the prisoner wipes his brow in defeat, until something out of his peripheral catches his eye. I think this may be Bob Bentley animation–the animation of the prisoner wiping his brow matches up rather well with the scene he did of Porky wiping his brow in Porky’s Railroad. The criminal sneaks behind a wall of magazines, a pan across the scene being our only guide to his movement. With that, he stumbles upon another magazine with prison bars: Liberty Magazine, where he escapes with ease.

A caricature of columnist Walter Winchell lives up to his dubbed name of “Walter Snitchall” as he alerts the public about the prison break, peeking through a keyhole provided by look magazine for his evidence. 

Thus sparks the infamous Tashlin montage: overlays of various animated scenes all at once to convey a sense of heightened dramatics and urgency. Cop cars, bugle horns, boy scouts on the run, even Tarzan and a stampede of animals (reused from The Coo-Coo Nut Grove and Porky in the North Woods respectively). 

As if this cartoon couldn’t date itself further, we’re also met with recycled animation (perhaps from Buddy of the Apes?) of blackface caricatured natives joining the fight. Even animation is reused from as far back as 1932′s Ride Him, Bosko! with a gang of cowboys riding their horses into battle. 

Time for another caricature, this one being William Powell, who lumbers out to a constipated rendition of “The Boulevardier from the Bronx”. Powell starred in the movie “The Thin Man” three years earlier, and is caricatured as such from his side profile, which is practically non-existent. A dog from “Dog World” brags “That’s my pop!” and jumps to join his side.

Something you’ll notice throughout this cartoon is the magazine dates: they’re almost all dated October 1946. Common speculation is, seeing that this cartoon got a Blue Ribbon release in 1945 (which means it was re-released for theaters), that they went back in and changed the dates of the magazines to appeal to the more modern audience. I doubt this is true: this is the same studio who didn’t switch to having full color cartoons until late 1943 to save money–I doubt they’d do something so costly and meticulous as changing the dates on magazine covers. 

Nevertheless–the convict is now disguised as a baby, donning the cover of Better Babies magazine. Volney White does some nice hat takes as the convict realizes he’s being followed, his baby bonnet twisting up as it attempts to contain the prisoner’s cap from flying through the roof in shock. 

William Powell’s dog sniffs the ground… and we pan back to reveal Powell doing the exact same thing, crawling around on all fours. There’s also a GREAT little gag where Winchell spots something, which is evidently enough trouble to constitute him blindfolding his dog. 

They continue their search as normal, dog now blindfolded as they cleverly past a line of magazines: The Saturday Evening Post, literally adorned with wooden posts. The joke being, of course, that Powell doesn’t want his dog to stop by the post and pee on it.

Some nice, sharp comedic timing as Powell and his dog confront the baby carriage where the prisoner is hiding: there’s a pause, and suddenly the convict pops out from the carriage and whacks Powell in the face with a baby bottle. 

Cue the climax as the prisoner makes a break for it in a baby carriage. After getting pelted with eggs by a polo player, a cowboy on the front of “Western Story” magazine lasso’s the criminal, yanking him out of the carriage and dragging him (painfully) by his neck. You’ll notice that on the cover of the magazine, a “Cal Howd” is credited, referring to Warner Bros. story man and short-lived director Cal Howard. 

All of the heroes in their little magazine worlds work together to put a halt to the criminal’s escape: ships fire cannonballs that break the makeshift noose around the convict’s neck, sending him pummeling, spears thrown by the (ugh) racist native caricatures from before cause the crook to face plant, good ol’ Saint Nick drops his back of toys that wrap around the convict and slow down his run (the animation complex but very well done, topped off by the sound effects of clanking and horns being crushed), Greta Garbo trips the crook and sends him into a pond on the cover of “Country Life” magazine, and so forth.

A reprisal of the title song serves as a jaunty underscore as the criminal is launched onto a giant pinball machine, where he’s sent springing around, animation reused from Sunday Go to Meetin’ Time. He hits the jackpot, his reward being a sentence to “Twenty Thousand Years in Sing Sing” by “Warden Flaws” (a play on LewisE. Lawes). 

Hugh Hubert taunts the criminal with his signature high pitched giggle that Daffy would appropriate into his own signature laugh, aggravating the criminal enough to grab a globe off of the cover of the World Almanac, used to sock Hubert right over the head. Iris out on the convict gleefully impersonating Hubert, giggle and all.

This isn’t my favorite Tashlin cartoon by a long shot, but it’s also not the worst entry in the book series. Rewatching this one a few times certainly heightened my appreciation for the short. Though it’s HEAVILY dated, it’s a very clever cartoon, especially if you put some time in to do some research on who these caricatures are or what the magazines are about. I always particularly enjoy analyzing these cartoons chock full of references–time consuming, sure, but you get to LEARN something from them and you get to actively discover and absorb new information you never knew before, and that’s what it’s all about for me.

This is a fun cartoon. The colors are nice and bright, but tastefully so, the music is jaunty and happy (again, I LOVE the original song!), and the animation has its merits. I particularly enjoy Volney White’s scenes, as well as the scene of the Ted Lewis caricature literally bending over backwards to play his clarinet. 

With that said though, this isn’t a perfect cartoon: some parts feel more cobbled together than others (the scene where the toys and Hugh Hubert applaud Ted Lewis’ performance feels oddly out of place), and of course you have reused animation of blackface caricatures… but, in all, it’s an endearing cartoon. There are certainly more boring cartoons out there in this genre.

This is a cartoon I’m neutral on, but I’d say that if you’re curious to see it in action, go for it! If not, you can easily skip it. It’s not a make-or-break type of deal.

With that, here’s a link!