193. The Sneezing Weasel (1938)

Release date: March 12th, 1938

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Tex Avery

Starring: Tex Avery (Willy the Weasel), Berneice Hansell (Wilbur, Chicks), Elvia Allman (Mother Hen), Count Cutelli (Rooster)

While Tex Avery has lent his vocals to a number of cartoons before, this short debuts a notorious Avery-ian feature--the signature Tex Avery guffaw. His laughter was so infectious that it's been borrowed in cartoons after his time: 1944's Meatless Flyday has Cy Kendall doing a fine impersonation of Avery's laugh.

In a lampoon of cartoons by the likes of Hugh Harman and Rudy Ising over at MGM, The Sneezing Weasel places a twist on the classic "someone gets a cold from being out in the rain" trope. In this case, a hungry weasel has his appetite set on a sickly little chick, but the tables are quickly turned after the chick infects the weasel with his own maladies and summons his siblings to take down the eponymous foe.

Right away, we are reminded of Tex Avery's influence. A rooster dozes on a fence (pillow and all) before awakening, giving a few hearty slaps to the sides and crowing. Right on cue, the moon in the sky is swapped out for the sun. With the rooster's work done for the day, he goes back to sleep as if nothing has happened. Treg Brown's decision to use the electric slide guitar sound in accompaniment with the sun is a nice touch, and the background work deserves praise as well.

A gorgeous multi-plane pan to the right reveals the barrel shaped home of whatever stars await us. Truck in, and mama hen marches out with her chicks behind her, a jaunty score of "Bob White (Whatcha Gonna Swing Tonight?)" accompanying their march.

The brown chick at the very end of the line is instantly recognizable as the protagonist. As if mama hen lugging a shovel and all of the chicks donning napkins wasn't suitable context, our pint-sized hero clues us in by stating the obvious: "Yes, we're gonna eat worms!" He echoes a phrase from Fibber McGee and Molly's Sis, heard before in Porky at the Crocadero--"I be-tcha!"

Mama hen's worm hunting approach is rather unconventional, thanks to the aid of modern technology. A scoop full of dirt into a kitchen press later, all of her hungry chicks crowd under the gadget with their mouths agape. 

All of her chicks are fed, save for one. Amusing animation as our lead sits with his head in his chin, tapping his foot impatiently as he scowls. The charade repeats, with the brown chick getting nothing but a slap to the face as a lone worm wiggles its body back and forth on the poor thing's face.

Thus, in a scene styled after Billboard Frolics and reminiscent of the early Harman-Ising days, the hungry chick pursues his foe.

Cut back to mama hen, who is heedless to the incoming storm blowing in. The effect of the sky changing is rather striking (enhanced greatly by the recent restoration courtesy of HBO Max): the sky itself is on a separate layer, a rolling pan marking the darkening of skies. While nothing stylistically crazy, it does make for an intriguing effect in conjunction with the painted trees, land, and so forth as an overlay. It's a nice reminder that drawings, cels, paint, and camerawork all went into making the final product.

A concept reused from I Wanna Be a Sailor, nature itself opts to warn mama and her chicks of the impending storm. The lighthearted approach of the storm approaching is much appreciated, and lifts the burden of any dramatic theatrics. 

Carl Stalling's music score grows frenzied, matching mama hen's furious attempts to wrangle her chicks beneath her feathers. Together, they rush inside to the comforts of home sweet home.

Elvia Allman's vocals and Stalling's fun, tinny, violin score mesh well as mama hen frantically attempts to count her brood. "One... two..." She grows flummoxed, anxiously tapping her fingers together and scratching her head as she struggles to take count. "One... two...three... four... ohhhh..."

Allman's vocals are quite natural and convincing in delivery. After a handful of failed attempts, mama hen relies on modern technology once again as she enlists in the aid of an adding machine. The timing of the whole scene is quite nice--though the urgency coasts just a tad, it's replaced by natural timing instead, pressing buttons, pulling levers, scanning surroundings, ripping off the paper, and so on. A very fun scene indeed.

Mama hen's fears are realized as she crows "WOW! One's missing!" Feathers fly as she does a take, scrambling across the house to grab her trusty umbrella, which, being just a stick with spokes, no covering, serves more as a prop than an actual utensil.

"Wilbur! Wilbur!" Mama searches for our plucky little worm hunter. Our star is still pursuing his treat, getting dangerously close to a tree where our eponymous mustelid awaits, eager to feast on the chick himself. Nevertheless, mama catches him just in time and drags him home, scolding him all the way.

Tex Avery makes his grand debut, heaving a signature laugh as we pan over to get a closer look at the weasel. "I'm the villain in this picture!" He slaps his knee and wrings his hands, indicating that we're in for a treat. 

Casting Avery as the weasel himself was a smart move, as it highlights his authority, or lack thereof. Purely comedic villains were still a new concept at the time, but Tex continues to break them in, one by one. Had this been a Harman-Ising MGM cartoon instead, Billy Bletcher or someone to that degree would have been cast instead. While Bletcher has played a number of comedic roles, his villain voice wouldn't have fit the atmosphere of this cartoon. Tex is a great match, and I dare say that he may even be more fit for this role than Mel Blanc.

Elsewhere, mama drags Wilbur inside. Wilbur brags to his mother about his great worm hunt (with another "I be-tcha!" added for good measure), but mama hen wants none of it. "Don't you know you'll catch your death a cold!?"

This scene is pretty syrupy and slow, even for Avery's standards--despite that being the target of his satire. Wilbur is incredulous: "What, me, a cold? Aww, ma, I won't catch a... a... ACHOO!" As you can guess, it's off to bed with Wilbur. 

Wilbur's impatient glower towards the audience as he endures his mother's nagging and sappy storyline is a nice touch, though something that would have hit much harder with audiences in 1938 than it does today. Still amusing regardless.

Mama hen goes off to call "Doctor Quack" while the weasel, much to Wilbur's oblivion, is outside the window and licking his chops. Once more, mama hen takes her useless umbrella out into the storm, making way for the weasel to take the spotlight.

Enter Irv Spence, the hero in any rather slow Avery cartoon. He animates a great scene of the weasel re-establishing himself to the audience.

"While the mother's away... hyeh hyeh hyeh... the weasel will play...! Huh hyeh hyuh! That's a good'un, hyeh hyeh hyeh!" Avery's laugh is infectious, especially when paired with Spence's animation of the weasel who seems genuinely delighted with his joke, slapping his knee and clapping his hands together.

"Now you folks pardon me just a minute, and I'll make a quick change..." Enter a purely Avery touch as the weasel excuses himself, dragging a curtain down over the scene. A second later and the curtain pops up, the weasel in his fancy new doctor's disguise. Spence's animation is gorgeous to watch, and the curtain gag feels like something out of a silent comedy--very fun stuff.

Weasel knocks on the door, and is answered by a chorus of Berneice Hansell voiced chicks asking "Who's there?"

The weasel answers as "Dr. Quack", tacking on another belly laugh. The chicks don't question his credibility for one minute. Wilbur hides his head under the covers, while his siblings tell the audience "Boy, that's service!"

"Dr. Quack" is admitted inside, and we're treated to some more fun Irv Spence animation of the weasel at Wilbur's bedside. More sinister laughter from the weasel, who instructs Wilbur to "Say ahh!" 

"Ah... ah... ah... ACHOO!" Nice animation from Spence as Wilbur's sneeze blows off the weasel's disguise, much to the horror of the chicks. "It's Willy the Weasel!" Irv Spence's animation of the weasel grabbing at the chickens is a nice touch, as is the speediness of the disguise reveal. That way, we can get right to the action and not linger on any more redundancy. 

As I mentioned in my previous review of What Price Porky, this was a time when the public had a fascination with military gags, with all of the shiny, modern weapons and streamlined mannerisms. This short hones in on that fascination (though not to the effect of the aforementioned cartoon), starting with one of the chicks blowing into a funnel like a bugle.

With that, bottle cap helmets are distributed. While the scene reads as very cutesy bordering on corny, Tex slips in a joke as one of the chicks complains "Hey, it's too small!" One bottle cap opener later and the cap is expelled off of the chick's head, replaced by a much bigger one instead. 

Meanwhile, we're reminded of Wilbur as we get a quick cut of him trying to scale blinds on a window. A turn of the blinds handle later and he's sitting in Willy the Weasel's clutches.

In a scene reminiscent of cartoons such as How Do I Know it's Sunday and Bingo Crosbyana, some chicks load popcorn into a kettle, which pops and shoots out at the front, zinging Willy in the butt like a machine gun. Trite as the gag is now, Treg Brown's gun sound effects are a nice topper. The impact of Willy getting hit could be stronger, but then again, it is popcorn.

While Willy is distracted, Wilbur uses this as an opportunity to dive into a hole in the floor. Willy sticks his schnozzola into the hole, which is promptly turned into a punching bag. Again, a gag that would have hit harder in 1938 when it was still a new concept, but points are awarded for more action.

After glowering at his assaulted proboscis, Willy reaches his hand down in the hole and snags a defenseless Wilbur. Thus, his siblings come to the rescue once more, shooting Willy with pimentos from a jar of olives. 

Once more does Irv Spence swoop in to the save the day with more eye candy as Willy corners Wilbur. "Now I got ya behind the eight ball! Huh huh hyuh hyeh heh!" 

Indeed, an Avery-ian visual metaphor as an eightball pops up on screen, poor Wilbur trepidatiously poking his head around. Stalling's quick funeral dirge serves as an appropriate and lighthearted accompaniment. 

It only takes nearly 5 minutes into the cartoon for Willy to live up to the title. Wilbur sneezes right into his face, causing some hilarious and fun Irv Spence animation as Willy sniffs around for a few seconds before convulsing, winding up to a hilarious, heaving sneeze. Irv Spence animation + hilarious Tex Avery vocals = a match made in heaven.

As such, a barrage of sneezing gags ensues. One can only imagine the lengths that would have been taken had Avery made this at MGM, in both speed and exaggeration:

Our first Gone with the Wind reference!

Meanwhile, Wilbur attempts to knock the weasel on the head with a mallet, but is instead blown away by the force of the sneeze. In our second "Eat at Joe's" reference, Wilbur is propelled right into a matchbook, his head ripping a hole in the middle. He gets up and finds himself as a walking advertisement, "EAT AT SLOPPY JOES" proudly adorned on his chest.

We at least are treated with a fun visual gag as one of the chicks is propelled into an electrical socket by the sneeze, working his way up the wall and landing right into a lightbulb, much to his visual befuddlement.

Finally, Wilbur is able to strike, popping out of a cuckoo clock and walloping Willy over the head with a mallet. The next gag deserves to be commended on its sadism--Willy (conveniently) collapses into bed, where Wilbur revives him with smelling salts. Just as Willy comes to, Wilbur socks him over the head with the mallet, rendering Willy unconscious once more.

Mama hen reminds us of her presence as she darts through the storm-turned-flood lugging the real Dr. Quack. The animation of them running through the flood is quite nice, and Elvia Allman's overlaying vocals as she gives Quack the skinny on the situation is also appreciated--narrating over the action rather than talking THEN performing the action allows everything to flow much nicer.

The chicks spot mama hen's return. They give Willy another sock to the head for good measure, covering him with the blanket as if he's headed to the morgue before piling into the closet to listen.

A nice "wah-wah" underscore of "September in the Rain" accompanies Dr. Quack approaching who he thinks is Wilbur. From the recesses of his bag, he pulls out a jar of castor oil. For those who may or may not know, castor oil was a highly effective laxative used to aid constipation--thus justifying every cartoon character's fear of it in these cartoons. 

Willy is no exception to this fear, who pops his head up from the sheets and does a Fleischer shiver take at the sight of the foul concoction. While the staging is nice, with the castor oil in the foreground and Willy in the background, it seems there was some camera trouble with the double exposure, the animation blurry as a result.

Nevertheless. Willy heads for the hills, diving out the open window, much to the amusement of the chicks. They emerge from the closet, laughing at their comeuppance, all crowding around the window to watch the cowardly weasel run. 

Of course, Wilbur gets his just desserts too: clever staging as we see Dr. Quack's hand come in through the window and jab a spoonful of castor oil down the chick's throat, who unwillingly gulps it down. 

Though bathroom humor was more Bob Clampett's forte, here Tex Avery taps into that (albeit in a more sophisticated manner, if there is such a thing) as Wilbur glowers at the audience, clutching his abdomen. He runs to another room (a sink and mirror serving as appropriate context clues) and slams the door shut. No more justification is needed.

Willy makes a reappearance at the window, guffawing "That's a good'un!" as he points and laughs.

But, of course, Wilbur safely emerges from the cuckoo clock on the wall, making the final comeuppance as he socks Willy over the head with a mallet, posing proudly as we iris out.

I find that this cartoon is much easier to appreciate in the lens of a 1938 moviegoer. Today, much of these gags seem played out, tired, etc., but at the cartoon's release, they were new, exciting, and got lots of laughs. If you think about it, this cartoon was pretty innovative for its time--all of the glares at the camera, the self-aware commentary, things like that which have been played out and lost its novelty, that was all new when this came out. As such, I don't believe the cartoon should be faulted for something it can't control--it's not like Tex was able to see 83 years into the future and see what was still fresh and what wasn't.

In my opinion, Tex gets a little too bogged down by the very thing he's parodying. He does the parody well--points for self-awareness, modern technology gags such as the kitchen press and adding machine, and so on. There's certainly enough in here to distinguish this cartoon as his. Yet, at the same time, the cartoon drags in some places. It gets a little too sweet at times, and doesn't pack a consistent Avery punch (which is a difficult standard to maintain in the first place.)

Nevertheless, there's a lot to enjoy with this cartoon. Irv Spence's animation is the highlight, as it always is, and Tex's vocals certainly constitute a listen. The backgrounds look gorgeous, especially towards the beginning. Carl Stalling's music score is very energetic--I'm particularly smitten with his hurried score of "Bob White" while the mother hen fruitlessly attempts to wrangle her offspring. 

I'm relatively neutral on this cartoon. There's enough bite to mark it as Avery's doing, but it's nothing entirely special about it, save for the distinction of debuting the Avery belly laugh. Watching it for the new restoration is a strong enough incentive--you could go either way. Regardless, enjoy!

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