Release date: December 4th, 1937
Series: Looney Tunes
Director: Bob Clampett
Starring: Mel Blanc (Porky, Emperor Jones), Tedd Pierce (Gorgon, Assistant)
The final Porky cartoon for 1937, and what a busy year it’s been for him! Hard to believe he had an entirely different voice, look, and demeanor just 8 months prior.
Even then, his character still had much to explore, as we see here—in this cartoon, he’s cast as a child again. Curiously, Bob Clampett is often credited as the one who refined his personality into the one we know today (he did give him his iconic suit and tie), but, like everything else, it was more of a collaborative exploration by all of the directors.
The title card is one of the more interesting title cards in the Warner Bros. repertoire—it’s a photo of a Porky statuette! Bob Clampett would make several statues during his time at WB and distribute them to his top animators.
Here, Porky dreams of the wonders of ancient Greece, prancing around as the mythological messenger Porkykarkus. However, a gorgon has her sights set on turning him into stone, and it requires some quick thinking from Porky to weasel his way out of this mess.
Bobe Cannon animates the expositional sequence, with Porky propped up in bed, sucked into a giant book full of Greek myths. His mother (offscreen) tells him it’s time to go to sleep, but Porky objects, protesting that he was just at the exciting part. Cannon’s animation is easy to spot with his trademark buck teeth, yet the gestures he gives Porky—finger points, turning the page, etc.—give him a nice dose of youthful energy as he recaps the story, telling tales of gorgons and “great great great” Greek heroes.
Nevertheless, a disembodied hand turns out the light, dismissing Porky‘s protests. He heaves a resigned sigh, lamenting how he wishes he could be a great Greek hero.
The cartoon doesn’t make any attempts to keep the dream sequence a surprise—instead, the face of the book’s cover takes up the entire screen, the pillars emblazoned on the front melting to life as we fade into ancient Greece. And, as to be expected, our favorite porcine hero proudly stands in front of the building, proudly advertising “HERO FOR HIRE AGENCY – PORKYKARKUS PROP.” Porkykarkus is a play on Parkykarkus (”park your carcass”), a character on Eddie Cantor’s radio show The Chase & Sanborn Hour.
Truck into Porky’s services as he narrates over the specials:
“Has anybody any eh-deh-deah-deah-dragons you want seh-seh-sleh-slay-slaye–rubbed out? Or maybe ya have some, uh, fair meh-mai-meh-maide–honeys ya want rescued! It’s a peh-pleasure. Is your daughter safe? Phone eh-peh-Porkykarkus at Olympia 2222!”
Porky’s narration, as always, is fun to listen to, and the physical advertisement has its own charm and appeal, with discounts and deals on certain rescues. Not only that, but it’s a damn smart way to save money, having just the narration over the still frame. Smart thinking!
Conveniently, Porky gets a phone call, sparking the tried and true “gear up for a big sprint but merely tinker on over to your destination” gag. As Porky answers the phone, filling us in by repeating the hidden dialogue from the other line, we find out it’s the emperor—he wants one hero to go.
Chuck Jones’ layouts stick out quite strongly throughout this cartoon, especially in the human designs. Porky’s statue of Mercury is no exception–the bulbous nose and rounded body construction are all surefire trademarks of his work.
Porky grabs the messenger’s hat and winged shoes from the statue, never once taking a beat to stop as he hobbles along, dressing as he prepares to head out. Woodblock sounds simulate the sound of his hooves clopping, but also add an extra jaunty jive to the merry score of “Have You Got Any Castles?” in the background, the cartoon’s motif. It would also be a Merrie Melody courtesy of Frank Tashlin not even a year later.
With that, Porky takes off, soaring in the skies like a pro with his winged shoes. If the scene wasn’t appealing enough with the overhead layouts, the animation of Porky steadying himself is wonderfully smooth and fun—the cherry on top. He circles the palace where the emperor is located, swooping down to his destination. Complete with airplane sound effects, of course.
“Howdy, empy!” Another bulbous-nosed Jones character silences Porky from behind his armchair.
Emperor Jones (boy, who could that name reference, I wonder?) speaks in a ridiculously hilarious dialect, completed with a thick accent: “Shh! I’m making a fireside chat with my sheeps!” His voice then slips into a Rooseveltian draw as he coos “My friends, Grecians and customers, this is emperor Jones speaking…”
Pan to the audience, which consists of a sea of smiling statues. This entire speech sequence is wonderful—not only is his terrible grammar terribly amusing, (”Statistics show… what last season at this time was population in Greece from 6,000 with 500 with 54 people, with 17 statues.”) but little touches such as one of the audience statues roasting marshmallows and later a hotdog over the fireplace, the emperor making his audience clap by pulling on ropes tied to their arms, and so forth make the entire charade highly amusing with lots of details to look out for. Porky standing idly in the background, awkwardly fidgeting as he tries not to intrude is a great little piece of character animation as well.
The emperor gives the skinny, all while chowing down on a hotdog: a gorgon has been turning more and more people into statues, and they need a hero to steal her life-restoring needle in order to turn all of the statues back into humans again. The hero he has in mind is, of course, Porky who bashfully accepts the offer. When the emperor asks those in favor to raise their right hand, he pulls on a lever that causes all of the statues to raise their hands in unison, including a hand on a nearby clock. With a handshake, empy concludes “It’s a deal!”
One of the most impressive pieces of animation in the cartoon is when the emperor sends Porky on his way, who waves goodbye as he flies through the air with his winged shoes. Just as he tips his hat, he knocks into a pillar, which sends him tumbling upside down, but still airborne. The wings on his shoes form hands as they shake their fists in the glory of the good landing, with Porky flashing a cheeky grin to the audience before spiraling lower in the air, regaining his balance, and barreling onward towards a smoldering volcano. The animation is full of life and character–though Porky is consistently jolly in the black and white Clampett cartoons, the grin towards the camera as he prides himself in his save is a great little touch of personality. Slowly but surely, bits of character are now becoming more defined.
Outside of the factory is a human picket fence, comprised of familiar faces: statues of Bobe Cannon, Norm McCabe, John Carey, Bob Clampett himself and Chuck Jones surround the area.
Directly outside of the factory is the frozen statue of a salesman with his foot in the door—the joke is not only amusing, but the pose is quite strong and readable, too. Though nowhere near the dynamism of Frank Tashlin’s poses in the mid ‘40s, Clampett’s poses in this cartoon are quite defined and exaggerated for the time period. This is especially sharp in the scenes with the emperor.
Porky knocks on the door held ajar by the ceramic statue’s foot, holding out an envelope. “Telegram for the guh-geh-gee-geh-gee-gor-geh–” a hand snags the envelope out of Porky’s grip, causing him to mutter “Aww, nuh-neh-nee-nuh-neh-neh-nut—shucks,” a phrase he echoed in Clampett’s previous entry, Rover’s Rival.
Clampett and Pierce’s comedic timing is sharp—not nearly as sharp as Tashlin’s timing in The Woods are Full of Cuckoos, but abundantly amusing nonetheless. The gorgon asks for a boy—“a sorta young-ish one”—and in comes a decrepit old man who can hardly hold himself up. The gorgon waits for the man to assume his position on the podium where his picture will be taken, singing a pitchy rendition of “Am I in Love?“, another homage to the characteristics displayed by Lish’s character on the radio.
The gorgon snaps her photo, which turns the shaky old man into a stone statue at once, cheekily labeled “ANTIQUE – $60,000 (P.S.: 000,000)” before he’s yanked off of the podium with a cane.
“Now let’s try a group picture.” You know it’s a ‘30s cartoon if the Three Stooges come waddling in—they made their caricatured, cartoon debut in the 1934 film The Miller’s Daughter , notorious for being Chuck Jones’ first animation credit.
As expected, they all beat the tar out of each other while on the podium, rendered immobile only through the power of Medusa’s camera. They turn into the three wise monkeys, labeled “3 MONKEYS OF JAPAN – MADE IN GREECE”.
Norm McCabe’s animation is easy to spot in the next scene with Porky, characterized by his signature double eyebrows. Porky knocks on a door, parroting a favorite catchphrase from the Al Pearce show that frequented many a cartoon from this time period: “I hope she’s eh-eh-at home, I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope…”
Porky shakes the hand of the assistant, unfortunately a blackface caricature (save for the voice, who is just Tedd Pierce speaking in a deep, suave voice) as he greets “Welcome, stranger. Won’t you come in?”
Before Porky has time to answer, he’s yanked through the iron bars of the door and placed neatly in line for the photoshoot, where he peeks through the door to see the action inside.
A pile of men form a pyramid, where the camera turns them into a literal statue of a pyramid, with some slight imperfections. “Aw, shucks!” laments the gorgon. “You moved!”
She approaches them with her life restoring needle, allowing the men to form into the proper position, maintaining good balance. She gets her “genuine Egyptian statue”, quipping “Ought to make a handy paperweight!”
The assistant informs Porky that he’s next. Porky backs up anxiously, echoing a short-lived catchphrase of his from the Joe Dougherty era: “Nuh-neh-no! Eh-nn-nee-no! A-a thousand times no!”
The decision to make his thoughts visible (his head is slapped onto that of a piggy bank’s) is playful, and also reflects just how big of an influence comics had on Bob Clampett’s work: comic artists such as Milt Gross and George Lichty have been cited by Clampett as inspirations.
In the midst of his panic, Porky backs into a statue of “Dick A. Powello” (Dick Powell and Apollo), causing it to break. But, rather than fuss over the mess, Porky uses the opportunity to hatch an idea instead.
In comes strolling Porky concealed by Powello’s upper body and a blankett hiding his hooves. The triumphant score of “He Was Her Man” and the gorgon’s smitten woos makes the scene hilarious as is, but the blanket falling off and revealing Porky’s pudgy little hooves is the icing on the comedic cake.
Porky perches himself on a conveniently placed couch, where the gorgon approaches him. “Pardon me, is this seat taken?” She doesn’t wait a wink before snuggling right up to him, a heart symbolizing her affections popping in the air. Though Clampett would play with typography at times and maintain an overarchingly jovial mood to his cartoons, it’s an odd thing to see him play with comic-like visuals in this manner, such as Porky physically envisioning himself as a piggy bank or the heart from the gorgon. I wish he had done it more in this nature!
With the gorgon too close for comfort, Porky uses this as an opportunity to grab the gorgon’s life-restoring needle, dangling from her neck and lying against her body.
It wouldn’t be a Clampett cartoon without sexual innuendos— Porky reaches aimlessly around for the needle, prompting the gorgon to let out a shriek, cooing “Why, Mr. A POWELLo!” She smothers the ceramic head in kisses, giving him a nice lipstick finish to boot as she pretends the statue has given her a ring. Her ecstasy is hilarious and WONDERFULLY conveyed through strong, rubbery poses worth freeze-framing. Picturing Porky‘s befuddlement is another humor within itself.
Finally, Porky‘s disguise is revealed when the gorgon literally crushes the statue in an embrace, stone crumbling around him as he desperately slips out of her grip. As the gorgon makes threats to call the cops, reciting the WB favorite catchphrase of “Calling all cars! Calling all cars!”, Porky makes with the needle and jabs it in various statues, warning them “Uh-geh-uh-get goin’! I-i-eh-it’s the guh-geh-geh-eh-geh-gorgon!”
As the gorgon chases Porky with her camera, he continues to revive a barrage of statues: the antique, the famed discus thrower (who throws himself out of the scene rather than the discus), the man from The End of the Trail statue, who exits riding his horse like a merry go round (a nod to Friz Freleng’s Sweet Si*ux), a woman who marches off with Popeye’s forearms—note the Bobe Cannon statue in the back here—and a mermaid who unzips her fin and makes a run for it.
The highlight of the entire montage is when Porky approaches two temples (the two of them together labeled “Shirley Temple”) and injects the needle into them, prompting the temples to use their pillars as legs and run for the hills.
The chase reaches its climax as the gorgon pursues Porky with a movie camera, turning the crank ferociously as she runs. Her plan works— Porky slows down, freezing in mid-air as the gorgon cries “Hold it!”
Thus, the gorgon pins Porky to the ground, who tries his hardest to fight back, but ultimately flailing around as she commands him to open his eyes.
We melt into the present, where we find Porky’s mother in place of the gorgon, telling him softly to wake up. He does so, after she pries one of his eyes opens. Relieved that it was all a dream, he embraces his mother, prompting a happy end and an iris out.
This cartoon has a soft spot in my heart—it was one of the first LT cartoons I saw on this whole venture. I thought I was the smartest person alive, understanding the Three Stooges, Popeye, and Shirley Temple references. Who knew just how much I had (and still have!) to learn! Though even without my sentimental biases, this still stands as a very good cartoon.
As I mentioned previously, the poses in this are full of elasticity and energy, especially in the emperor and the gorgon. Porky does a very nice job as well—little pieces of animation such as him fidgeting awkwardly while the emperor rambles on, swinging from side to side as he’s offered the job to be a hero, etc. etc. are full of charm and character.
While his personality isn’t the most electric in comparison to characters like Bugs and Daffy, it’s the little things like these that really make Porky stand out. With him, a little subtlety goes a long way, and that’s why he’s one of my favorites. He’s so reserved in comparison to such a wild cast of characters that his timidness actually shines through and sets him apart! (Though, on the other hand, he can still have quite the personality, as we’ll discover!)
Personally, the only gripes I have with this cartoon is the blackface caricatured assistant (which, in comparison to some cartoons we’ve seen and still have yet to see, is relatively mild, but uncomfortable nonetheless). The jokes, while corny at times, still hit, the animation is full of life and vigor, and the short as a whole has a lot of charm, whimsy, and personality. It has my seal of approval. Go check it out!
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