203. Katnip Kollege (1938)

Release date: June 11th, 1938

Series: Merrie Melodies

Director: Cal Dalton, Cal Howard

Story: Dave Monahan

Animation: Joe D'Igalo

Musical Direction: Carl Stalling

Starring: Johnnie Davis (Johnny), Mabel Todd (Kitty Bright), George MacFarland (George), Mel Blanc (Cuckoo Bird), Fred Waring Glee Club (Chorus)

Awhile back, I mentioned that I’d start crediting story, animation, and musical direction when the title card system got split into chunks starting in 1942, rather than all of the credits being on the same card. I’ve jumped the gun and aim to start doing that now—it’s just simpler that way. I was waiting purely for the sake of waiting, which is much too arbitrary.

Speaking of credits, Dave Monahan makes his big credit debut. Monahan was only 19 when he wrote this cartoon (20 at the time of the short's release), which is a major feat within itself. Monahan would continue as a writer, credited with shorts such as Tortoise Beats Hare, Porky's Preview, and Wabbit Twouble to name a select few. Lights Fantastic (1942) credits him as Sgt. Dave Monahan--he wrote a handful of Art Davis cartoons in the late '40s, a 5 year gap in credits between Lights Fantastic and Mexican Joyride.

As for the expansive list of voice credits, the cast (Johnnie Davis, Mabel Todd, George MacFarland, and Poley McClintock) starred together in the 1937 film Varsity Show, distributed by WB, perhaps serving as ripe inspiration for this cartoon's own cast.

The middle (and most notorious) entry directed by the two Cals, Katnip Kollege is unapologetically musical as it illustrates the story of a young cat without a notion of swing or rhythm. Shunned by his musical classmates, he makes an effort to prove himself as the King of Swing, which pays off.

Any cartoon in the late '30s involving education is bound to have a music score of "We're Working Our Way Through College", and indeed, such is the opening underscore as the audience gets a view of the eponymous kollge college. Students arrive to school (a barrel adorned with tin cans and bottle caps, which seems more appropriate for a setting of mice rather than cats) all stacked in a jalopy. So eager to get an education, the cats pile out of the car before it has a chance to stop. A lone straggler observes helplessly as the car rolls down the hill and crashes offscreen--he plugs his ears upon the impact, decides he isn't that bothered, and heads inside.

Puzzling physics of the college building aside--the exterior shot is way too small compared to what lies inside--I love how whimsical and lighthearted the environment feels. Even a shot of the hallway is playful: a line of doors all boasting their respective "-ology"s (physiology, sociology, biology, zoology) are covered in cobwebs, save for one--swingology. A simple yet spirited way to establish the cartoon's priorities and setting.

A contrast to the remaining lifelessness of the college, the Swingology room is bumping, the door physically swinging off of its hinges and serving as appropriate percussive accompaniment to the trumpet rhythm that blares from inside.

Cross dissolve to the interior of the classroom. Cats sit at their sardine can desks, clapping in time to the rhythm... save for one, a meek, awkward fellow who struggles to keep time to the rhythm, flashing helpless glances to his classmates. Again, the exposition is simple but incredibly striking as a result. Strong parallels and juxtaposition easily establish the cartoon's story, and not a word has been spoken--this is a college that prioritizes music and swing, and the awkward bespectacled cat has some homework to do.

One doesn't think of excellent character design upon mention of the Cal Howard/Cal Dalton cartoons. Admittedly, some of the designs of the cats verge on the ugly side, but I personally really enjoy them. Some of the markings are strange, the ears feel too small and can be positioned too low on the head (which make them feel like a bunch of hairy Howard/Dalton designed Porky Pigs), the fleshy muzzles range from slightly appealing to awkward, and so forth. 

Regardless, I feel the designs have potential and could look rather nice in the hands of a strong layout artist. Even the variety of the fur designs are much appreciated--the cats aren't all carbon copies of each other. Rough around the edges, yes, but also in a charming way.

Back to the cartoon at hand. The professor of the class is a caricature of Kay Kyser, adorning his trademark cap and gown as he rises from a podium, pecking along to the rhythm spurred on by his students. The trumpet accompaniment blares an ending cue of "Shave and a Haircut", which the prof. tops off by hitting the bell on his desk.

This cartoon is almost all music. There are a number of purely musical cartoons (especially from the likes of Friz Freleng)--the most comparable on to this would probably be Friz's Three Little Bops 19 years later, which IS all music. As such, the story is conveyed through song quite a bit. Our first song number is sung by the students, "Good Morning to You (Dear Teacher)".

As to be expected, the song has all the makings of '30s swing and scat, "roo-roo-roo-doo"s and all. It's short, but fun--I especially enjoy the drawing of the professor on the chalk board dancing along to the real professor. 

The cats interject lyrics throughout the song, and symmetry is a strong notion throughout the scene that works in its favor. Two lines of cats identical to each other, three cats framing each other as they put their heads together, and so on. Symmetry is simple and effective, and something I enjoy seeing in cartoons--it feels so unnatural compared to the way we move in real life that it's almost a reminder that you're watching a cartoon in the first place.

Mel Blanc is surprisingly absent in this cartoon, voicing a cuckoo bird who sings the final line of the song before getting hit with a book. Controversial as this may be, I think it's nice that he's not featured prominently in the short. I obviously foster nothing but respect and admiration for him and his talents, and this is in no way a knock on him, but his voice is just that recognizable--regardless of whatever voice he does, you know it's him doing the voice. 

Here, the absence of his voice furthers the notion of this cartoon being a bit of an anomaly. This isn't a standard Merrie Melody in more ways than one. His absence leads to a more unique end product, something that stands out as being different from other cartoons we've seen.

On the topic of voice acting, the professor's voice (who provides it, I haven't found) leaves a bit to be desired. He invites "Mr. Jones" to recite his history, speaking and bouncing in rhythm to the drum beat that accompanies him. The up shot of the professor is a nice surprise for a Howard/Dalton cartoon, as unconventional angles aren't typically in their forte.

Mr. Jones, a student with a very loud outfit, gives his report by singing "Let That Be a Lesson to You", instead reciting the history of Christopher Columbus. In fact, this version of the song would serve as the title card accompaniment to the opening of Kristopher Kolumbus Jr. just a year later.

George MacFarland's vocals are nice to hear, as is Carl Stalling's accompaniment. As Jones (no relation to Chuck) gives his "report", a few classmates "peck" along to the music, using yardsticks as rowing oars to fit the lyrics of Columbus sailing the seas. Elsewhere, a rather hulking cat shoves a trashcan over another cat's head, prompting Poley McClintock to growl his signature "frog voice" as he sings "...as Columbus wound up in the jugaroo!" 

Note the "HOLD THE ONIONS" gag on the chalkboard.

A drum solo on some pots and pans by the professor, and then it's on to to the next act. Kitty Bright, voiced by Mabel Todd, recites the history of Napoleon to the same tune. Todd's vocals are charming and clean, as is the guitar accompaniment to the song. It seems that Kitty has her own back-up dancer, a nearby classmate serving as a zany caricature of Napoleon, eyes crossed, tongue out, the works. Nothing too remarkable to comment on--the animation of the scene is very appealing, and again, Todd's vocals are a treat to here. A worthy spotlight. Devon Baxter suspects this to be the work of Herman Cohen.

Meanwhile, a hand places a tack on the professor's chair, who is busy conducting his star pupil. As he finally sits down, he lets out an "Ohhh!" of pain, which cleverly (albeit a little annoying) segues into the main chorus of the title song. Our befuddled protagonist is the only one who isn't singing, instead gawking at his classmates. 

The next cutaway is a little vague in its depiction (or perhaps it just may be personal error.) One cat wags his finger to get the professor's attention, visually uncomfortable and meek, unsure of his skills. A close-up shot of the professor giving an oddly timed, slow nod is all the validation the student needs; his face brightens and he struts over to join the festivities, shaking his hips and wagging his finger. Up until now, I always interpreted the scene as an odd attempt at some bathroom humor, as if the cat had to really go to the bathroom... I suppose that reveals a lot about my comedic sensibilities.

"Now, Johnny, let's hear your sonnets--and make 'em sound like Kostelanetz!" Referring to Russian musician and orchestral pioneer Andre Kostelanetz, the professor puts our timid, bespectacled cat on the spot. 

A fitting, humble score of "You're an Education" is a stark contrast to the other acts we've seen, as is Johnny's performance. Johnny pats his sides, pushes his glasses up from his face, sinks into himself as he mutters "Vo-de-oh-doh... uh... Charleston, uh... uh... razz-a-ma-tazz...and uh... boop-oop... a-doop." While not 100% confident, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say the animation here is the work of one Volney White due to the rapid timing of his movements and long, rectangular eye highlights. The animation, though constantly moving, is quite appealing, as is the musical score in the background. (Edit: the work is that of Joe D’Igalo’s, not Volney White. A big thank you to Devon Baxter for the correction!)

However, the professor doesn't share that same opinion. Instead, he taps his foot with an awkward frown on his face before turning to the audience. "Boy," he confides to us, "is that corny!" With a growl, he orders Johnny to come up to the front of the classroom and to sit in the chair at the corner.

Woefully does Johnny oblige, taking off his hat in favor of another of the dunce variety. He presses a button on the side of the wall, prompting the stool to rise into the air with a rather inapt violin slide sound effect. As he rises into the air, a dunce cap hanging from a metal hook is placed onto his head for a dose of public humiliation.

The festivities of the past few minutes are long gone as the professor dismisses the class with a growl. Thus, Johnny is subject to ridicule from his classmates. The animation is a noticeable step down from D’Igalo’s previous scenes, his classmates jittering and suffering a case of poor lip sync. "Boy, you swing like a rusty gate!" "You ain't got rhythm!" "Gee, is that awful!" "What corn!"

However, the most stinging insult comes from Kitty Bright herself. She tosses Johnny a pin and tells him "Here's your old frat pin; you can look me up when you learn how to swing!" A frat pin is essentially like an early wedding--a fraternity man "pins" his partner, indicating he intends to stay with them, essentially pinning them down for a future marriage. Johnny can only place his head in his hands as his lost love walks away from him singing a few strains of "As Easy as Rolling of a Log".

With the heartbreak of the previous scene, a more chipper atmosphere is in order. All of the swingin' students from before gather outside the college, now nighttime as indicated by a caption. Couples and musicians alike gather together to sing an original song (apparently titled “No Name Stomp” in the cartoon’s cue sheets, credited to Dave Monahan—another thank you to Devon Baxter for finding this information!) in the schoolyard--as soon as the full moon rises with a timpani drum sound, the number begins.

To get anecdotal, this is a cartoon I remember very well from my childhood years, and one that was evidently quite formative. I didn't grow up watching a TON of these cartoons--usually, my only exposure to them was on some DVD sets we had during long car rides, which would be about once a year. As a result, I don't have a very strong memory of which cartoons I saw and which I didn't as a kid. This one, though, I remember most clearly, and for this song number in particular.

I had(? have?) an odd affinity with the "alley cat at night" aesthetic, hyper specific as that was. Those cartoons were always my favorite as a child--my favorite Tom and Jerry cartoons were the ones with Butch and the gang in the alley. Even today, cartoons such as The Hep Cat and A Gruesome Twosome are some of my favorites for the atmosphere alone. As an adult, I knew there was a cartoon that was the "cause" of this, but could never remember which, and it frustrated me to no end. I distinctly remembered a shot of three cats singing in a junkyard at night and was at my wits end trying to find out which cartoon this was.

Somehow (and thankfully so) I stumbled across this short last year and realized this was that short. More specifically, this was that shot. Everything makes sense now, hallelujah! I have very strong nostalgic connections to this cartoon as a result, which is nice, considering I don't exactly have that same nostalgia that other people have with these cartoons. This song number is one of my favorites to be featured in any Merrie Melody. The vocals, the orchestration, the atmosphere, the colors, it's all a treat. Animated comfort food!

I digress. A chorus of three cats (all of varying sizes) gather at a microphone--a sieve tied to a toilet plunger--to sing the main chorus as cats of all fur variations dance and move along to the music. The backgrounds are gorgeous. Rich in color and detail; I'm particularly fond of the can of "ERL" in the shot of the cats singing. Gorgeous backgrounds and nice composition, with some cats "pecking" in front of a fence, as we get a back-view shot of another cat conducting a group of students.

As the festivities continue, we eventually get a pan of the entire schoolyard, with cats pecking and dancing together. Included in the schoolyard is a not to subtle nod to co-director Cal Dalton, a statue of a cat labeled "PROF. DALTON -- 1908" (his birth year) proudly in the center of the action.

The pan continues before trucking (a little shakily) into the college itself. Poor Johnny is still seated at his throne, a lone stream of light illuminating and highlighting his solitude as he can merely listen to the music with his head in his hands.

Regardless, a moment of inspiration strikes. The clock on the wall clicks to the last strains of the music before serving as the only background noise. Johnny heaves a sigh before flashing a glare of contempt at the clock, its uniform ticking sounding like a mockery. Just then, slowly, he starts to pat his legs to the rhythm of the clock. A smile as he begins to peck along to the rhythm, the underscore a warm, hopeful, and jazzy reprise of the main song. A musical breakthrough.

"I got it. I got it!" Johnny continues to peck and pat his legs, sounding much more confident and outgoing. "The rhythm bug bit me! La-de-ah!" 

Johnny is quick to discard his dunce cap for his regular gray cap. He pecks along to the clock a few more times for good measure before taking his leave, practically a blur as he dashes out of the college. While not as fast as the speed in Frank Tashlin or Tex Avery's cartoons, the quickness is welcomed and wonderfully accentuated by Carl Stalling's music score, which increases in tempo and bravado, its confidence mirroring Johnny's own.

A simple yet striking bit of animation, Johnny skids to a halt to join his fellow classmates, the pan following him the entire time as he glides along the screen. Smoothness doesn't always equate great animation, but here it certainly works in Johnny's favor as he flashes a wave to Kitty Bright and their bewildered classmates. 

With that, Johnny (literally) jumps into his show-stopping moment, singing "As Easy as Rolling Off a Log". Funnily enough, this isn't the first time Johnnie Davis has sung the song--he sang the same number in the 1937 WB film Over the Goal.

Here, his performance is much more grandiose. The composition of the scene starts out quite nice, with the moon serving as a frame for Johnny's head and as a way to guide the audience's eye. His good vocals are a shock to all of the classmates around him, who turn their heads and all stop in their tracks to gawk at them. (As an aside, the couple who poke their heads out of the tree are what I was referring to when I mentioned the "hairy Porky Pigs".)

Incredibly smooth and fun animation as Johnny hugs himself, dancing on the log and flashing Kitty a playful wink as she can only observe in astonishment. Couples all across the schoolyard sway together in a huddle, reflecting Johnny's lyrics. Outcast no longer, Johnny brings Kitty to her feet, who has obviously rescinded her earlier comments, completely smitten.

Thus, it's Kitty's turn to sing, Mabel Todd giving a nice performance as she sings her share of the song. At one point, Johnny interjects, turning the song into a duet. He's met with a close-up, which almost looks like a bit of Rod Scribner animation, what with the detailed mouth and prominent eyebrows.

Kitty reverts back to her own close-up, singing solo once more. It's not a cartoon without a visual metaphor--as Kitty sings about how love has got her "in a fog", a cloud of fog appears right over her face. The string section that accompanies the lyric is floaty, sweet, and lovely--the cartoon's soundtrack is in top form. Kitty's hand gestures and head shakes are also a nice bit of flavor. While this short certainly has its share of sloppy animation, for the majority it's been rather well done, especially for a Howard/Dalton cartoon.

To compliment the high notes (pun half intended) of the song number, Johnny initiates a brassy orchestral break, borrowing a trumpet and blaring out a rousing solo. His animation against the moon is intriguing--the simplicity of the moon and sky and nothing else makes for a really striking background, allowing the focus to be on the animation itself. Johnny's arms verge on the rubber hose side at some points, which makes for a rather interesting effect visually.

With that said, the animation of his cat cohorts isn't as strong, but still fun to watch. A number of students instantly jump into dance with each other, the animation slipping into awkward tendencies; at one point, the couple dancing in the middle appear to slide across the screen. A close-up of Johnny and Kitty also appears to be a little crude, Kitty especially seeming to jitter and look slightly off-model (as much as I dislike using that term.)

Nevertheless, the number is raucous and spirited and difficult to dislike. At last, the song--and cartoon--come to an end as Johnny slips back into the main chorus, the tone much more saccharine and romantic. Living up to the title of the song, Johnny and Kitty both accidentally stumble off of the log, the scramble animation a tad out of place but fun as they both roll off the log and onto the ground below. Our story comes to a close as the camera trucks in on Kitty, who lifts up a dazed Johnny and smothers him in lipstick.

Though not without its awkward moments, this is a cartoon I really enjoy. Maybe that's the nostalgia talking. Either way, it's a difficult cartoon to dislike. The music score is excellent all the way through--I don't believe there's a song number or piece of accompaniment that I don't find catchy. 

The environments are playful and gorgeous (I'm utterly smitten with those nighttime backgrounds), and while the character designs could use some revising, I applaud the variety they have. It would have been much easier to make all of the incidentals solid, opaque colors, but instead there are a variety of patterns and color combinations that add an extra bit of life and color to the picture. 

I'd say the biggest folly of the cartoon is its occasional lack of coherency, and that's more rooted in the animation itself rather than the story. The scene of the cat asking the professor to join into the festivities is relatively unclear in its intention, and some pieces of animation seem more liquidy and loose than others. Perhaps that's an issue with the clean-up department. Either way, it's not a giant hinderance, especially since the scenes that are good effectively counteract the bad.

This seems to be a cartoon that most people remember and think of fondly. For good reason, too. With that, I'd urge you to watch it. If nothing else, it's a very happy and feel-good cartoon, a nice way to spend 7 minutes if you need a little pick-me-up. Unapologetically musical, I'd say this is one of the better musical cartoons that makes use of modern musical stylings (that is, not counting cartoons that use classical music as a soundtrack). Music takes precedence more than dialogue, and it works in its favor.

Therefore, go and watch it! 

202. Porky the Fireman (1938)

Release date: June 4th, 1938

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Frank Tashlin

Starring: Mel Blanc (Porky, Dog, Grandpa), Tedd Pierce (Falling Man, Stepin Fetchit)

Frank Tashlin is no stranger to fire gags--a number of gags in this short can be traced back to Tashlin's Van Beuren Tom and Jerry cartoon, Hook & Ladder Hokum. 

As we iris in on the fire department, the blare of a fire alarm indicates that no time shall be wasted getting to the action. Indeed, one of the firefighters opens the doors to the fire department. A pause as the firefighters get settled into their vehicle...

...and crash out of the wall instead.

Everybody's favorite porcine is at the wheel, cranking the fire alarm as the truck bobs to and fro, hurtling down the streets. The physics of the firetruck behave in a rubbery and elastic manner, beckoning memories of cartoons from the early '30s. That is in no way a criticism--the energy of the furiously swaying firetruck is greatly appreciated.

Like with any cartoon donning Tashlin's name, there are bound to be unconventional angles. We get a driver's-eye-view of the truck screaming down the streets, the front half of the truck still swaying to-and-fro as the animated backgrounds whiz right on by. Props to Tashlin and co. for the extra effort in animating the backgrounds.

And, just as soon as it started, the action halts. The firetruck screeches to a halt to allow a line of cats through, one of them carrying a baby in its mouth. Again, the designs of the cat look straight out of 1933 rather than 1938, but that's not necessarily a complaint. 

Speaking of 1933, a gag from Hook & Ladder Hokum, released that very year, is repurposed here: the firefighters approach the burning building, with the flames gushing out of the windows, spelling "HELP".

Note the Looney Tunes plug in the background.

The boys screech to a halt, their braking so effective that the entire top half of the fire engine is catapulted off of the bottom and has to be lugged back into place. 

With that, the firefighters clock in for the day, literally punching in their time cards. Porky is the last to do so, fetching his hat when the arms on the clock begin to spin. Always a classic as a stream of coins spout from the clock, Porky using his hat to collect his jackpot before resuming his duties. 

Porky fetches the fire hose as the team attempt to put out the fire. The fire expresses its gratitude, spelling out messages of "THANKS BOYS" before clutching its flaming "hands" together and shaking its fists in the glory. While the short hasn't been particularly groundbreaking so far, its whimsy and lightheartedness are infectious.

Elsewhere, a gag is repurposed from a previous Tashlin effort, Porky's Building. Having the hose sufficiently plugged into the fire hydrant, Porky tells one of his coworkers "Eh-keh-eh-okay, eh-eh-eh-turn 'er on! Hurry up! Eh-eh-eh-turn 'er on!"

The aloof dog from Porky's Building leans against the fire hydrant, chuffing on a pipe and bothering to crack open an eye. Just like in the aforementioned cartoon, he lumbers alongside the hose sprawled out on the street to a constipated rendition of "Boulevardier from the Bronx", walking precisely alongside the hose's perimeter. The animation is amusing in more ways than one--the frequent billows of smoke, his waddled walk, the way he obeys the hose's perimeter are all great contributions to making the gag funny.

At last, he approaches Porky, already aiming the hose. Mel Blanc's growl is gravelly and unaffected: "What did you say?"

Porky is much more animated in his delivery, jumping out of his boots as he shrieks "I eh-eh-eh-said eh-TURN ON THE WATER!!!"

The unnamed dog isn't slighted at the outburst, instead giving a monotone "Oh," and returning to his interminable walkabout along the fire hose. His role in both this cartoon and Porky's Building are equally entertaining--the morbidity of the aforementioned cartoon can't be beat (he purposefully causes onlookers to die a fiery death in an explosion because they refused to move back from the explosion site), but the slow-burn and apathy here make for a great laugh. Certainly a scene stealer.

Also reused from Hook & Ladder Hokum is a single droplet of water plopping out of the hose, contrary to the giant water bulge snaking up the pipe. Porky takes matters into his own hands, grabbing a bucket and rushing to another nearby fire hydrant. Porky's scrambled run feels a tad floaty and awkward, but is still fun to observe--especially when he shoos a gaggle of dogs away from said hydrant.

With a turn of the crank, Porky fills his bucket with the necessary water, rushing to the burning building himself. Just as he goes to dump the bucket on the fire, the anthropomorphized fire teases him by grabbing the bucket and dumping the water over Porky's head instead before waving goodbye and turning back into a wall of fire.

As it turns out, the building that’s ablaze is a (“theatrical”) boarding house. Focus shifts from the plaque identifying the boarding house to an obtuse woman in the window (her briefcase labeled “MABEL THE FAT WOMAN”) begging to get down. Fat jokes aside, Tashlin’s drawing style is particularly strong in her design—very geometrical and heavyset with tiny little feet. She feels straight out of one of Tashlin’s comic strips.

Thus, the aloof, pipe smoking pup comes to the rescue, doing his signature waddle all along the perimeter of the hose and up the ladder. As Mabel continues to shriek, the dog approaches her at the window, asking again in the same monotone growl, “What did you say?”

His routine with Porky is repeated, and while the novelty is a little worn the second time around, the scene still rouses a laugh—especially when he carelessly grabs the woman, showing no signs of a struggle, and just drops her completely, totally deadpanned. 

To accent the fall, we merely observe the dog leaning against the burning building as Mabel plummets offscreen. A drumroll is used in place of a music score, which heightens the suspense and humor of the entire gag.

Sure enough, Mabel hits the concrete with an unseen crash—the sound of cymbals colliding and a rather odd camera shake (the camera glides horizontally rather than creating a manic jitter, which hinders the impact of the fall) serve as appropriate context clues.

Even more inspiration is borrowed from Hook & Ladder Hokum as a profusely bearded old man shrieks for help. He, too, looks straight out of 1933. His design is quite close to the old man in the aforementioned cartoon—perhaps they’re one and the same, with grandpa deciding he’d skip a shave for 5 years.

Either way, Porky darts up the ladder and heads into the burning building to help the thrashing, rubbery old coot. Of course, traffic is another issue in the world of firefighting—there’s a particularly amusing gag where Porky veers off to an extended ladder on the side as a traffic light cues him to stop. Down comes the lumbering dog, moseying along with his hands in his pockets. With that, the light turns and Porky is free to resume his duties. Points for creativity and whimsy.

Porky jumps into an open window and prepares to save the day with a courageous “Eh-don’t worry, I’ll eh-eh-eh-save ya!” 

Carl Stalling’s energetic, bouncy cue of “Old King Cole” indicates hilarity is about to ensue. Indeed, gramps shoves Porky’s fireman’s hat over his head. “Don’t worry about me—go save grandpa!”

Porky hardly has any time to do a full hat take as grandpa dives out the window with a Daffy-esque “HOOHOO! HOOHOOHOOHOO!” His thin, rubbery, and noodley limbs are fun to observe and beckon memories of cartoons past; a point which is furthered when gramps’ beard turns into a parachute, the old man patiently swaying to safety, hands clasped and everything.  

Anthropomorphic flames tease the firefighters below, prompting an entire chase between water and fire. A steady stream of water serve as an answer to the flames. Thus cues a call and response battle between the fire and firefighters—every time the flame makes its presence known, a gush of water pushes it back through the building and out another window.

At one point, the taunts are so quick in their succession that a single stream of water loops through every window in order to cover all areas of the building. In a fun little piece of acting, Mr. Flame halts his taunts to ponder the physics of the looping water, scratching his fiery head in the process. Regardless, he isn’t granted enough time to question it, as a giant gush of water sneaks up on him from behind and extinguishes the anthropomorphic flame.

Back to the pig, who scrambles to grab a fire hose. The same floaty, slightly awkward scramble is repeated from before as he slides past the fire hydrant--it's as though the pan is slowing him down and keeping him suspended, so he appears to run in place. However, too quick of a pan would also be a hinderance, and an aimless, awkward scramble suits a bumbling character like Porky. 

Such a point is made as Porky accidentally gets caught in his own hose, the hose tying him up and releasing him like a spinning top. The animation glides, the non-stop camera pan almost as dizzying as the action itself. "Fun" is a vague word that I use to describe many things, but if there were ever a case to describe the animation as such, this would be it.

Porky recovers from his dizzy spell and darts to attach the hose onto the fire hydrant. As he turns the crank, water spouts out of the other end of the hydrant. Quick to remedy the error, Porky attaches the hose to the afflicted spout, only for water to come out of the OTHER spout instead. Attaching two hoses to both spouts proves inadequate--water gushes straight out of the top, much to Porky's chin stroking befuddlement.

The gag's grand reveal serves as a light precursor to another Tashlin Porky effort, Porky Pig's Feat. There, A disembodied hand lights a match and gives Porky the ol' hot foot from the sanctity of a storm drain. Here, Porky lifts up the fire hydrant from the sidewalk and gets sprayed by a water bottle from someone hiding underground. Perhaps Frank Tashlin's way of venting out his frustrations working with the pig? Either way, very whimsical and amusing--I especially enjoy the camera nonchalantly panning away as Porky continues to get sprayed in the face.

As the pan halts at a manhole cover, the culprit of the gag is revealed--out comes the lumbering dog, still walking along to his motif of "Boulevardier from the Bronx", spray bottle in hand as he emerges and continues to his apathetic duties.

First was Mabel the Fat Lady, next is "Lucy the Bearded Lady", an equally rotund woman who begs for help out the window. Rather than focusing on her rescue, the process of her rescue--or lack thereof--is featured instead. 

There's a rather intriguing down-shot of Porky perched on the firetruck's ladder. We begin with a close-up of Porky, who reassures her "Eh-don't worry! I'll eh-ss-eh-ss-eh-save ya!" The camera trucks out to reveal the entire shot of Porky and the firetruck, giving commands to one of the firefighters as the entire town observes. "Keh-o-keh--alright, weh-weh-wind 'er up fast!"

Porky's assistant is another pooch (who, again, looks like he belongs in a cartoon about 6 years before this), but one who's overzealous rather than deadpan. He cranks the ladder reel with such ferocity that the ladder snakes and through the entire building, smashing dozens of windows as poor Porky can only hang on to dear life. Lucy's fate is left up in the air as the ladder smashes through the rear exit of the boarding house, plopping a winded Porky onto the ground.

Seeing as this is a theatrical boarding house, it's only natural that some dramatics are in order. A group of men dive from the windows of the boarding house in unity, landing one by one to strike an acrobatic pose (musically timed to "Shave and a Haircut"), of course. They proudly lug a banner branding them as "The Flying Leroys".

Tedd Pierce lends his voice to the cartoon (for better or worse, in this case): a man lugging a suitcase plummets to the ground below, desperately begging to be caught. "Help! HELP! CATCH ME! GET THE NET READY! HURRY! HELP! HELP!"

He gets caught... in a cloud of smoke. Enter the inevitable and uncomfortable as the man emerges from the cloud of smoke in blackface, lounging on his suitcase and putting on the entire Stepin Fetchit (otherwise known as "the Laziest Man in the World”)  routine, talking in a slow, dim-witted drawl instead. Fetchit caricatures are no stranger to these cartoons, but they remain uncomfortable and irksome today. 

Little breathing room is granted as we cut from one blackface gag to the next. Porky darts around the outside of the building, scooping up lingering flames into a bucket. He scoops up an entire line of flames blazing on a board of wood and empties the bucket into a nearby fishbowl--cue inevitable blackface gag as the fish inside the bowl swim around in the black smoke.

Meanwhile, it’s not a point I’ve dwelled on in previous reviews, mainly due to my own ignorance of the genre (which I’ve been making an effort to remedy), but silent films play a very, very, very important role in the making of these cartoons. References to multiple classics hide in every corner. Here, Tashlin channels Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill Jr.

A line of firefighters all spray streams of water through the windows of the boarding house. However, the wall of the building begins to topple, and falls right over the men. A cloud of smoke keep the reveal a secret, but sure enough, as the smoke dissipates, it's revealed that all of the men are unharmed, standing inside of their windows and continuing to spray their water. A nice little homage to a great gag in silent film history.

Cue the ever popular Frank Tashlin montage as overlaid footage from previous parts of the short convey action and time passing on screen. Here, I personally feel the montage is weaker than in other shorts--all of these gags feel rather specific to themselves. The montage worked in a short like Now That Summer is Gone because it showed a variety of nameless squirrels performing odd jobs, and that was about it. They didn't really have any formal introductions or too much weight on the cartoon. Here, showing Mabel screaming in the window again and the man falling, those events had a concrete establishment. I realize I'm looking too deep into like this, but the montage feels more like an attempt to fill up the time rather than to be theatrical. 

Nevertheless, the jaunty score of "The Old Apple Tree" turns into a somber, minor-key dirge as the building is reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble (excellent firefighting, boys!).  Truck into a close-up of the building, now a brick pile inhabited by the anthropomorphic flame from before. He furtively pokes his head out to see if any firefighters linger nearby.

Just as he believes the coast is clear, an armada of firefighters swarm around the building and waterboard the flame. The suddenness and urgency at which the firefighters appear is to be commended, as is the end gag: the flame re-emerges and shoots the firefighters down with its OWN hose, complete with machine gun sound effects. Iris out on a triumphant, chest-beating flame who gives a Tarzan cry of victory.

While this short has its share of moments, it's far from one of my favorites. The energy is certainly rambunctious and high, which is always a good thing in my book, but the short lacks conviction--maybe it's the 6 minute runtime talking, but it feels more like a string of gags slapped together to fill up the time slot. There's nothing wrong with having a showcase of gags at all--they were relatively amusing--but I suppose the short feels underwhelming. With Tashlin being one of my favorite directors, he sets a very high standard for himself, and when that standard isn't exactly reached, it's noticeable.

The highlight of the short is undoubtedly the lumbering dog from Porky's Building. Amusing already by himself, one has to wonder if audiences recognized him from the aforementioned cartoon, which would make his appearance in the short even more amusing. Either way, the whimsy of the gags are a lot of fun, too. Gramps using his beard as a parachute, Porky's battle with the fire hydrant, the dog, the grand ending, and so on. The animation is fluid and fun, and the short remains spirited. My biggest gripe with the cartoon are the back-to-back blackface gags, which are self explanatory. 

While not a favorite short of mine, I'd still hazard a watch. If anything, it's worth watching Tashlin's Hook & Ladder Hokum (which also has its share of blackface gags, so a word of caution) and then comparing it to this cartoon. I don't think it's a bad cartoon, but compared to other Tashlin efforts from both the past and the future, it's a little underwhelming to me. Still has some fun novel gags worth looking out for.

Link!