Disclaimer: This is the 6th entry in the Censored 11. As a result, this review is going to contain racist imagery and content, of which I in no way endorse. However, I encourage you to speak up if I say anything harmful or offensive—it is NEVER my intention to do so and I want to take accountability should that occur. Thank you.
Release date: May 28th, 1938
Series: Merrie Melodies
Director: Tex Avery
Starring: Mel Blanc (Elmer, Canary, Mockingbird, Elephant, Inuk, Polar Bear, Hiccups), Gil Warren (Narrator), Tex Avery (Quarterback), Sons of the Pioneers (Hillbillies), Roy Rogers (Yodeling), The Jones Boys (Chorus), Harland Evans (Fats Waller)
Gil Warren makes his debut, and would narrate two other Tex Avery cartoons at WB. Yet, their connections don't stop here--Warren would also serve as the narrator in Avery's Car of Tomorrow over at M-G-M.
Warren worked at the radio station KFWB, which, as I've mentioned before, had affiliations to Warner Bros. He joined in December 1936, the same month that future Warner Bros. alumnus Arthur Q. Bryan (better known as the voice behind the “real” Elmer Fudd) would hop aboard the station.
Speaking of Elmer, his prototype makes a second appearance, once more voiced by Mel Blanc. In his next appearance, Cinderella Meets Fella, Danny Webb voices the awkward gent in his trademark impression of comedian Joe Penner. Webb and Blanc would alternate voicing Fudd, and to make matters more confusing, Webb would voice Egghead (whom Fudd is often confused with) in the remainder of his cartoons. More confusing is that Blanc was the original voice for Egghead in Egghead Rides Again—what a tangled web we weave!
Confusion aside, this cartoon is also a landmark for Tex Avery’s career. This is Tex’s first official “travelogue”, a jab at various short films of the same nature where a patronizing narrator would comment over the sights and sounds of various venues. While admittedly one of the better travelogues of Tex’s and surely guaranteed to get a laugh from audiences well acquainted with the real thing, this also marks the beginning of a sour spot in Tex’s career.
Tex, it seemed, would use the travelogues as a crutch, his filmography for the coming years filled with travelogues that get increasingly stale and less spirited. Then again, it’s easy to make such biting comments in the era of today where one can binge these cartoons in succession at the tap of a button. They weren’t made to be watched one after the other, but still—the lack of Tex’s bite is sorely missed, as we’ll explore in the coming reviews.
Nevertheless, onto the cartoon. The first half of the short is more light-hearted and much less nasty than the remainder of the short. Explored is the eponymous isle, from its landmarks to the goings-on of the natives, with Elmer repeatedly dropping by to interrupt the flow of the picture.
No time is wasted jumping straight into the cartoon. Our first sight is an up-shot of the “luxury liner” Queen Minnie, which is set to depart New York for the Isle of Pingo Pongo. As to be expected, Carl Stalling’s accompaniment is a fitting score of “Song of the Marines”.
Next is one of Tex Avery’s favorite gags, used time and time again in many of his cartoons: the ocean liner shoves off, stretching all across the stream as it keeps going and going and going and going. A never-ending ship. Note the dock being marked #13, advertising “DOLLAR AND A HALF LINES”.
“The towering skyline of New York falls slowly astern as we approach the Statue of Liberty”, informs our narrator. Indeed, Lady Liberty plays the role of traffic cop, her torch lit red as a number of boats halt at an intersection. 
Another Avery favorite as a minuscule rowboat passes along; Treg Brown’s use of a siren sound adds an elevated sense of absurd urgency and tops off the gag nicely. Lady Liberty’s torch turns green, and the boats are free to cross once more.
According to the narrator, the ship is headed on a direct course to Pingo Pongo, a statement directly contradicted by the map displaying otherwise. Though nothing outstanding today, I do love how geographically incorrect and consequently fun the map is. Who knew Africa was so close to New York, which is now on the West Coast?
Enter the South Pacific. The ship hugs the corners of a small island, following the narrator’s commentary of how the ship “passes many interesting islands”.
As to be expected, visual metaphors accompany the narrator’s list of islands. First off is an island that displays a sign: LOS ANGELES — CITY LIMITS, a gag used time and time again in many a Warner Bros. cartoon. Off the top of my head, this is the gag’s first usage.
The Canary Islands…
The Sandwich Islands (fitted with the sound of a dog’s bark, of course)…
and the Thousand Islands, every island displayed in a rolling pan.
Enter Fudd, inhabiting a nameless island. Like in Little Red Walking Hood, he’s armed with a guitar case, but seems more frazzled than aloof. He stutters in a similar manner to somebody else we know, minus the vocal fluff and padding: “Neh-neh-neh-no-neh-no-uhh-uh-uh-now, boss?” The pan moves right past him, his screwball calliope motif melting away as the narrator nonchalantly remarks “No, not now.”
An iris serves as the perimeter for the next scene, which has some intriguing staging—the camera bobs up and down, imitating the bob of an onlooker looking through a telescope on the ship. Cued by the narration, the island rises suddenly on the distant horizon…
…quite literally. The elasticity of the animation is very well executed.
Slowly but surely, the ship arrives at Pingo Pongo, where the passengers “throw coins into the crystal clear waters for the native divers.” Irv Spence’s animation is whimsical and incredibly appealing to look at like always. Those designs are great too—a little outdated, even by 1938 standards, but fun. I’m especially a fan of the old man’s puny dot eyes.
A rotund woman tosses a coin into the water, where one of the natives (an appetizer to the gross designs we’ll be met with in the second half of the cartoon) dives out of his rowboat and into the water.
In a great bait and switch gag, the passengers on the ship also follow suit.
At last, the ship docks. It seems in nearly every Tex Avery cartoon we've covered thus far, I've made a comment wondering how certain gags would have been executed if they were accomplished during Tex's tenure at M-G-M instead. For once, that question is finally answered. Here, the ship docks with a screech and the passengers rush out of the boat at speeds adequately paralleled in Tex's future cartoons. For 1938, this is quite a feat.
Elmer proves to be the lone straggler, prancing as he points at his guitar case, once again stuttering out a profuse "now, boss?" The narrator's "no, not now," sounds slightly more irritated than the first time, which is a nice touch.
It should also be noted that Mel Blanc's versatility is fascinating (something we already know quite well.) Even if you sped up Elmer's voice to Porky's pitch, it would still sound different than Porky's voice. Porky's iconic stutter HAS been used for different characters, such as in Chuck Jones' Eager Beaver and Bob Clampett's Mr. Hook cartoon Tokyo Woes. Here, the stutter has its differences from Porky's own. It's a very miniscule detail to fixate on, and there's no greater point to add here other than "that's interesting", but it is indeed just that.
Always a favorite, "Bob White (Whatcha Gonna Swing Tonight?)" underscores the next scene illustrating the "dense foliage" inhabited by "rare and unusual birds". Birds of all shades of the rainbow chitter and tweet and sing as they flutter along the rolling pan. One can only imagine how vibrant this scene would look restored.
Segue into a variety of bird gags. First up is a hummingbird, who, as you can assume, hums while nonchalantly leaning against a tree branch, rocking back and forth and rubbing his nails against his chest as if he's accustomed to such a routine.
A mockingbird is next, its own novelty equally predictable but made enjoyable by Mel Blanc's acerbic remarks.
"Intensely interesting is the mockingbird," comments are narrator, prompting the mockingbird to spit back "intensely interesting is the mockingbird..." with a scowl.
"Notice its brilliant plumage."
"Notice its brilliant plumage."
"Hm. This bird must've been crossed with a cuckoo."
Mr. Mockingbird catches himself, and seems genuinely affronted as he declares "Who, ME!?"
The final bird gag is one we've all come to expect, but still very hard to get tired of. A baby bird just a mere day old calls to its mother...
...and of course, Mel Blanc's adult, shrill, manly yell cries at ear-splitting volume: "MAMA!!!"
The next gag uses a rather intriguing film-making technique as we stumble upon an elephant. "Notice the intelligent expression on this old boy's face..."
Awkwardly realizing the situation, the narrator clears his throat. The screen flips around in a psuedo-Powerpoint transition as we finally see the front of the "old boy"'s face, the narrator recovering with an unconvincing "There. That's better." The elephant answers by repeating the ever-popular catchphrase from The Ken Murray Show: "Mmmmmwooooaaaaaaaah yeeeaaah!"
Now, the audience is invited to observe the world's fastest animal in action--the Pingo Pongo spotted gazelle. The narrator attempts to comment on the markings of these beautiful animals, but the gazelles flash by the screen much too quickly to allow any adequate look. The gazelles running past make for some fun freezeframes.
At last, the narrator urges for the gazelles to slow down. "Slow down, girls! We want to see what you look like."
A curious gazelle springboards another iconic Avery gag that would be used in many a cartoon, both directed by him and others (Bob Clampett's The Wise Quacking Duck perhaps being one of the most notable examples.) The gazelle gracefully teases her curvaceous body via rotoscoping.
While tried and true now, the gag remains amusing, especially when the narrator thanks the gazelle for her performance. She pops her head in, bidding a chipper "Thank you!" before zipping off once more.
Of course, that's not all. Elmer interrupts the picture once more, again asking the age old question. A bit of the Joe Dougherty Porky era slips into this gag--as Elmer trips up on his words, he (rather than the narrator or someone else offscreen) whistles to get back on track. Profuse stuttering ensues before inquiring about his role in the cartoon. Once again, he is denied.
Narrator continues with his duties, panning over to an Inuk feeding a polar bear some fish. The manner in which he's caught off guard seems almost genuine, as there's little pause in his commentary.
"Typical of the island life are the--hey, what are you fellas doing here in the tropics?"
The Inuk and bear answer in unison: "We're on a vacation! Nyehhh!" Interestingly, the mocking musical accompaniment in the background sounds like a precursor to Scott Bradley's music stylings in Tex's cartoons over at M-G-M.
With that, we enter the second half of the cartoon, responsible for this short's entry on the infamous Censored 11. As I've said before, the Censored 11 isn't the end-all-be-all of racist cartoons. There are dozens of cartoons that should be included on that list, but aren't. Either way, with this cartoon being on the list, that in itself foreshadows what lies ahead.
Condescension passes from the narrator to the content of the cartoon itself as a "skilled hunter" enters the scene-- a crudely designed islander chases the realistic deer grazing on the grass, a stark contrast in designs.
Said hunter chases the deer behind a bush. Sound effects and clouds of smoke inform whatever altercation is unfurling behind the shrubbery--and, as to be expected, the two deer emerge victoriously, nonchalantly lugging their befuddled catch.
Pan through a thick wall of trees and shrubbery, arriving a native village. According to the narrator, the natives beat out a rhythm "as old and primitive as the jungle itself."
Focus is now on a line of natives, scowling with a thousand-mile stare as they beat out a rhythm on their drums. The drums thunder on...
...until the natives drop everything to indulge in a yokel chorus of "She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain", implying that the hillbilly music stylings and culture as a whole are as primitive as the island life. Grotesque and insulting as the imagery is, the upbeat nature of the gag is admittedly welcomed. The guitar player inserting intermittent yodels is a nice touch. Nevertheless, future cartoons have covered this gag in a much more polished and less uncomfortable manner.
The next gag is dated in more ways than one. We follow one of the natives walking along, the narrator commenting "Here we find a typical aborigine completely untouched by civilization and totally ignorant of our presence."
Without further ado, the native snaps a picture of the audience with a camera, resuming his walkabout as the words "Life Goes to a Party" caption the scene. The aforementioned phrase refers to Henry Luce's column in Life magazine of the same name, peppered with various photographs. Here is an example of the column--while made slightly more amusing with the added context, the gag still feels rather vague.
The Isle of Pingo Pongo even has its own "native beanery", where it dishes out uncomfortable gags alongside its food. A chef places some eggs and mashed potatoes on a plate, which, as revealed by the truck out of a camera, is actually the enlarged lip of one of the natives. Unfortunately, this isn't the first nor last gag of such a nature.
Elsewhere, one of the islanders indulges himself in some coconut milk, cracking open the coconut with a bottle opener. The physics of the coconut are at least amusing, with the milk audibly sloshing around inside and foam exploding out upon the coconut's opening. Less amusing is the islander drinking the milk with his elongated lips, hiccups causing the rings on his neck to behave like a spring, propelling his head into the air à la Jungle Jitters.
Nevertheless, a higher note as a timeless gag makes its debut. Right in the middle of his narration, the narrator is cut off as our next sight is misplaced footage of a horse race. "...HEY! Sorry, folks... I'm sure I don't know how that got in there." The gag is random and unprecedented, and succeeds as a result. It doesn't overstay its welcome like in Daffy Duck in Hollywood, where the same gag lingers for nearly 2 minutes of the entire cartoon.
Back to business, where we observe the natives playing a rousing game of football. Any musical accompaniment of "We're Working Our Way to College" is warmly welcomed in my book. Tex Avery himself voices the quarterback, calling out a barrage of numbers as the players take their positions. Suddenly, one of the islanders answers "BINGO! That's my number!"
Next, the music portion of the short. By this time, the musical numbers have been growing increasingly shorter and more sardonic. The dance starts off slow, the natives dancing together in the style of an 18th century ball. Again, despite the disturbing imagery, the gag is admittedly amusing. Evidently, it was amusing enough to be repurposed in Bob Clampett's Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, perhaps the most infamous entry on the Censored 11.
Like in the aforementioned cartoon, the natives daintily traipse to a saccharine accompaniment of "Minuet in G" before bursting into a much more raucous and energetic dance number. In this case, it's "Sweet Georgia Brown", led by none other than Fats Waller.
Virgil Ross animates the psuedo-Mills Brothers and Waller crew singing and scatting along to the song. As with many of these cartoons, the song is genuinely catchy and fun, and a shame that it has to be bogged down with such grotesque imagery. One of the brothers lifts Waller up to the microphone (labeled "FOO", yet another Smokey Stover reference) to give intermittent bars, a gag that was also lampooned in Friz Freleng's Clean Pastures.
With the main chorus out of the way, room is made for the big-band dance session. Two rather obtuse natives dance together, footage that would be reused in Clampett's Africa Squeaks during a big number led by Kay Kyser himself.
Meanwhile, big lip gag number 273 entails a native using his mouth like a trombone, utilizing his bowler cap as a mute. A line of dancers wave their arms to the music, footage repurposed from the aforementioned Clean Pastures.
Two dancers engage in the "pecking" move, their lips extending and shrinking back respectively. If anything, the flow of the movement is nice, as is the flow of one of the natives bouncing up and down on a drum.
At last, the parade of stereotypes are finally at an end. The audience is granted one last look at the island, the rich sunset illuminating the rolling multi-plane pan of the village.
"We say farewell to this isle of enchantment as the sun sinks slowly in the West..."
The pan halts over a beautiful shot of the sun overlooking the sea. The steel guitar also halts as time is frozen. An uncomfortable pause, broken by the same strains of the steel guitar as the narrator reiterates "...as the sun sinks slowly in the West..."
Another pause, cut off by the narrator's irritable tone. "As the sun sinks--"
Elmer scuttles into view, pointing at his guitar case. "Neh-neh-neh-neh-eh-neh-neh-neh-eh-eh-eh-neh-now, boss?" The hopefulness and intrigue in Blanc's delivery are genuinely amusing.
The narrator, however, is less enthused. "Yeah, now!"
Flashing a buck-toothed grin, Elmer eagerly opens his guitar case and pulls out a rifle. In a great gag that would be reused 6 years later in Tick Tock Tuckered, Elmer fires a shot straight at the sun.
With a "PLANG!", the sun deflates and is shot out of the sky, bringing a gorgeous dusk background in its place. The transition from sunset to dusk is a pretty one--the glow of the sun makes for a nice effect. We iris out on a very delighted Elmer, chuckling manically at his contributions.
A mixed bag would be the best way to describe this cartoon. For a travelogue, it's one of Tex's best--it feels more spirited, more fresh, more whimsical... at least in the first half of the cartoon. The second half with all of the grotesque caricatures serves as the cartoon's greatest folly, as the short has aged incredibly poorly. The patronization and grotesque imagery is just too poignant. The pin-headed designs of the natives are much more insulting than they are funny.
Nevertheless, credit deserves to be given where its due. Some of the gags are still amusing to this day, such as the mockingbird, the baby bird, the gazelle's tease, the coin-diving gag, and Elmer's frequent interruptions. This is far from Tex Avery's best, but as a travelogue, it's one of his better entries.
And, of course, the impact this cartoon made can't be denied--other directors would try their own hand at travelogues, not even limited to just this studio. Tex would continue to churn out cartoons of this nature well into the 1950's with his "____ of Tomorrow" series. As gross as this cartoon can be, it certainly made an impact on animation for years to come. For better or worse, that's for you to decide.
I would personally say watch the first half of the cartoon and skip to the end, avoiding the native sequences. There are amusing aspects to this formative cartoon, and it's a shame it has to be tarnished by such insulting content.
As always, here's a link--proceed with caution.
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