197. The Penguin Parade (1938)

Release date: April 23rd, 1938

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Tex Avery

Starring: Mel Blanc (Drunken Penguin, Dancing Penguin), Cliff Nazarro (Emcee, Bong Crisby), Tex Avery (Walrus), The Sportsmen Quartet (Chorus)

A change is marked in the Tex Avery-verse with The Penguin Parade in terms of structure. The majority of Tex's cartoons so far have all been rooted in some sort of plot or story structure--the amount of gags peppered in would vary, but his cartoons were heavier on plot structure than other directors'.

Here, we follow the goings-on in an Antarctic nightclub: drinks, dancing, double-talking emcees, and explosive music numbers, all presented in a showcase format. A cartoon doesn't necessarily need a plot to be successful, as Tex asserts in this jolly, energetic romp, but it does mark an interesting turn--for awhile, Tex would release a string of spot-gag cartoons with all joke, no story. 

Not so much a complaint as it is an observation, but this short here does mark a nod in that direction, which would be furthered by his next cartoon, The Isle of Pingo Pongo.

Interesting to note is the title card--Byron Gay is proudly credited as the mind behind the opening number. However, that's only half true--Richard Whiting is credited as a co-writer in the song's copyright records (thank you to Frank Young for providing this source). With no commercial recordings nor sheet music of any kind, as well as a fresh copyright date of July 1937, it's safe to assume that the song is an original number.

Though the song certainly doesn't extend its welcome, it's a catchy and jolly chorus. Neon lights and spotlights add a festive touch to the nightclub where our cartoon is hosted, the prestigious Club Iceberg.

A dog sled (with a super tiny dog in the middle of the reins, a gag no stranger to the big screen then) enters the scene, pulling a refrigerator marked with a triumphant fanfare briefly interrupting the titular chorus. 

Out of the refrigerator toddles a penguin in a top hat, making his way into the nightclub. The icicles framing the scene are a great compositional touch and are remarkably colorful, despite the muddied copy of the cartoon. All the more jolliness added to the atmosphere as a result.

The prestigious penguin makes his way up the bar inside the club. His voice already sounds slightly inebriated as he tells his walrus barkeep "Gimme a scotch an' soda an' a pinch of lemon!" 

Carl Stalling manages to blend "The Penguin Parade" together with "How Dry I Am", and it works surprisingly well. The walrus places his penguin pal on top of the counter, opening his mouth and inserting the ingredients one by one--a shot of scotch, an ice cube, a lemon, and some seltzer water.

Stalling's score of the titular song develops a Samba-type beat as the walrus shakes the penguin around like a mixer--Treg Brown's sound effects in conjunction with the score top off the gag perfectly. 

And, of course, the penguin is hammered, conveyed through Irv Spence's wonderful handiwork. Mel Blanc plays his signature Song 'o Hiccups as the penguin staggers across the floor, covering his mouth in a brief recognition of humility before convulsing his way over to the table. Spence's animation is fun and whimsical, the perfect man for the job.

And what can make Irv Spence animation better? When it's used in conjunction with Tex Avery AND Mel Blanc's vocals! Joy! 

Tex Avery voices a jolly walrus who bellows his signature guttural laugh. He leans over to his intoxicated penguin pal. 

"Hey, bud... heh heh heh..."

"Did ya ever hear the story... heh HEH hyeh hyeh hyeh..."

"...about the two ol' mules in the army? HYEH hyeh hyeh hyeh hyeh!" 

The penguin, who was a spasmed, hiccupping mess just seconds prior, listens with earnest attention, despite the walrus' breaks as he laughs at his own exposition. The careful patience from the penguin is just as amusing as Avery's vocal performance.

Leaning in, the walrus whispers the remainder of whatever crude joke he's about to tell into the penguin's ear. Instead of having a psuedo-whisper from Avery, he goes completely silent, and the music score hangs thick in the air. 

Such an effect becomes even more striking as the punchline hits, marked by hysterical laughter from both the penguin and walrus, as well as a brash chord in the music. Blanc's laugh is genuinely infectious, and Spence's animation of the penguin flying out of his seat slapping himself in hysterics is fantastic. 

His laughter borders on screaming, getting more and more obnoxious until interrupted by a sudden hiccup and a subdued, slurred, matter-of-fact delivery of "I don't get it." The routine borrowed from the likes of George Burns and Gracie Allen, its Looney twist is welcomed with open arms--from Spence's handiwork to Blanc and Avery's vocals, the scene is a must watch.

With that, a multi-plane pan right (icicles framing the screen) and trumpeting fanfare mark the stage-show portion of the cartoon, hosted by a penguin emcee voiced by Cliff Nazarro.

Cliff Nazarro performs his famous double-talk routine as the penguin--deliberately giving an unintelligible speech yet delivered in such a manner that it sounds convincing (and thusly confusing.) Nazarro was well known for his doublespeak ability, and it's no wonder. Hearing him as the emcee, you'd swear it was you just mishearing the words.

Nazarro would star in a number of LT shorts (and has been in some before, such as Billboard Frolics), particularly known for his Eddie Cantor impressions. In fact, Bob Clampett's Slap Happy Pappy in 1940 would revolve entirely around a Nazarro-voiced Cantor chicken.

Here, the penguin gives an unintelligible speech, slipping in nods to Leon Schlesinger and assistant producer/Schlesinger's brother-in-law Ray Katz. While the novelty of the routine is dated and a tad lost on audiences today, one can still appreciate and admire the conviction in which Nazarro gives his deliveries--they're startlingly and deceptively natural.

The emcee ends his unintelligible speech, allowing a drumroll and opening of curtains to segue into the next act. 

A line of penguins pompously blow a fanfare into their trumpets, bringing an Antarctic, psuedo-Bubsy Berkley performance (feast yer peepers on this for a glimpse of his work) to life. Penguins march in rows down a set of stairs, an overhead shot elevating the theatrics, as well as a down-shot of the stage. One can't help but think of Frank Tashlin's camera angles in his own cartoons.

In the grand finale of the act, the penguins march vertically up the screen in perfect time. While the scene is nothing too extravagant, the uniformity deserves applauding. Tex would reuse this scene (albeit in a cruder yet equally well executed manner) in his self parody opus, Porky's Preview in 1941.

Unlike the aforementioned cartoon, where crudely drawn stick figures perform the spectacle, the penguins are not immune to gravity, the entire act falling to pieces as every penguin flops to the floor. The quick salute at the end as curtains upon curtains upon curtains close out the act is a great little topper. Any dignity left is worth saving.

The audience is delighted, and more doublespeak spills from the Nazarro penguin as he introduces our next star, Bing Crosby Bong Crisby. After uttering more gibberish, the penguin finishes with a rhetorical question of "Isn't it?" The smile in his voice and confidence in which he delivers it is priceless. 

With some smooth-talking and an electric guitar slide cue out of the way, the Crosby copycat croons a song no stranger to Carl Stalling's repertoire: "When My Dreamboat Comes Home". Note the microphone--KFWB was affiliated with Warner Bros. back in the day, founded by Warner brother Sam Warner and was where the real Bing Crosby's career took off.

As to be expected, the song is dreamy yet catchy. The trumpet orchestra adds a nice flair to an otherwise saccharine song, with frequent cutting to the penguin orchestra breaking up any monotony that would be spurred on by "Crisby" standing in front of a microphone for 30 seconds straight.

Of course, that's not all. The cartoon certainly lives up to it's release date of 1938 as a trio of penguins swing the rhythm of the song (not entirely unlike Avery's eponymous number in Ain't We Got Fun.) Though dated, the number is catchy and innocent, hard to dislike as a result. 

The Penguin Parade (1938) vs Dangerous Dan McFoo (1939), two strokes from the same brush.

A strong Avery-ian touch as the penguins stop in the middle of their song, music and everything frozen in time as they make grotesque and funny faces at the audience. The gag would be reprised in Dangerous Dan McFoo a year later, but the longer length of the song here, as well as the heavier focus on the song number, allow the gag here to hit much stronger. 

Cut to an audience member loudly slurping up his soup, his bib spattered in soup. No matter: a built-in windshield wiper on the bib erases any signs of the penguin's slovenliness as he resumes his feast. The gag rises a polite chortle now, one that may be stronger had the gag not been split up--we cut back to the chorus before going back to the hungry penguin using his windshield wiper. Gotta fill up that time quota!

More colorful curtains part as the finale approaches--a frenetic, hoppin' jazz session. One particular highlight is a clarinet solo from one of the penguins--jazzy, happy, and bright. The orchestra blow some more tunes, eventually becoming exhausted, panting and slumping over in their chairs.

With Tex Avery at the helm, we all know that this isn't the end--a crescendo in music and action is bound to begin. Indeed, a penguin who still has an ounce of gumption left churns out an energetic drum solo, the rhythm as rollicking as ever as the orchestra hurry back to their instruments.

Irv Spence returns to animate a fun scene involving the bandleader and a languid bass-playing walrus. Unsatisfied by the slowness of the walrus' music, the bandleader penguin shovels hot coals into the base of the bass. The interior flame ignites, as does the walrus' spirit, who churns out a jumping bass solo, the bandleader happily clapping along. Appealing animation as always from Mr. Spence. To quote the eponymous Three Little Bops: "You gotta get hot to play real cool!" 

Elsewhere, two penguins dance to a jazzy rendition of "Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen". One of the penguin recites an immortal catchphrase from Humphrey Bogart's Dead End, still a hot conversation topic in April 1938 having been released that previous August: "Hey look fellas, I'm daaa-ncin', see? I'm daaa-ncin'! 

The single animated penguin in the background clutters up the scene rather than giving it more life, performing an awkwardly timed clapping cycle, but the idea is appreciated nonetheless. The animation of the penguins dancing, as well as the music score, sustain themselves just fine.

Meanwhile, a blackfaced Fats Waller walrus (likely why the short's restoration was on HBO Max for all of 15 minutes before getting shelved) bangs out some tunes on his piano, the piano melting to the ground from his hot rhythm. Once more, one can only imagine how much more exaggerated this gag would have been had Avery made this short 10 years later. Despite the blackface, the animation itself is fun, but could use some much-needed clarifying--the steamlines on the piano could use some exaggeration to further the meaning behind the gag.

Cut to a gag that would be reused in Avery's iconic Hollywood Steps Out in 1941--a rather stout walrus dances with her sweetie, her back turned to the viewer. She turns around to reveal three penguins as her dancing partner rather than just one to accommodate her girth. The shiny, round cheeks on the walrus are reminiscent of the character designs in Frank Tashlin's cartoons

More Spence animation of a fun saxophone solo before cutting to a jazzy, orchestral rendition of (what else?) "The Merry Go Round Broke Down", the penguins rising and falling in an imitation of a carousel. 

The music reaches its climax, going from a "call-and-answer" style riff to a drum solo and so forth. Even the notes on the page turn red hot and melt off the page, a fun and whimsical gag elevated by the glowing effects to indicate heat. Once more, it's difficult not to imagine what this gag would look like had Tex made this at MGM--flames would no doubt be involved.

Tashlin-esque camera cutting, zoom-ins and double-exposures pepper the grand finale as the trumpet solo dares to break the sound barrier, the orchestra a flurry of activity. Fun and exciting, no doubt.

With that, the number ends, the orchestra visibly exhausted, perspiring as they greet their audience in perfect unison:

"If you people out there in the audience think we're gonna keep this up all night, you're screwy!" A chorus of voices recite Jimmy Fidler's closing catchphrase on his radio broadcasts: "...and I do mean you!"

While no magnum opus, The Penguin Parade is a difficult cartoon to dislike. Its music is jolly, swinging, and an undeniable mood booster. A tame cartoon for sure, but one has to admire the control executed by Tex--it's far too easy to allow such a boisterous and wild sequence like the ending number to fall to pieces and incoherency. Here, the action is easy to digest while remaining fun and fast.

I have no major gripes with the cartoon. The blackface caricature of Fats Waller and the penguin emcee peppering in the Esk*mo slur during his double-talk routine haven't aged well in the slightest, but other than that this is a fun, energetic cartoon. A whole lot of nothing, maybe, but it's a fun whole lot of nothing. Irv Spence's scenes deserve perusing, especially the whole altercation between the drunken penguin and walrus.

With that, I say this is a fun way to waste 7 minutes if you've got them, but there's no real pressure to seek this short out, either. 

Regardless, enjoy!