211. Wholly Smoke (1938)

Disclaimer: A portion of this review contains racist stereotypes, caricatures, and imagery, presented for historical and informational purposes. I do not condone this content in any way. With that said, if I say something that is harmful or offensive, I encourage you to let me know so I can take full accountability. Thank you.

Release Date: August 27th, 1938

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Frank Tashlin

Story: George Manuell

Animation: Bob Bentley

Musical Direction: Carl Stalling

Starring: Mel Blanc (Porky, Bully, London Pipe, Corn Cob Pipe, German Pipe, Bull), Tedd Pierce (Nick O. Teen, Porky's Mother), The Sing Band (Chorus, Cab Calloway), Cliff Nazarro (Crooners), The Sportsmen Quartet (Church Choir)

His final outing with Porky until 1943, Frank Tashlin's Wholly Smoke is ahead of its time in more ways than one. A cinematographic spectacle with inventive staging and camerawork, the strong anti-smoking message is a relative oddity for the time period. 

While the cartoon is innovative and fresh, the set-up is no stranger to the Warner Bros. library. Another entry in the "___ come to life" genre, young, pure, schoolboy Porky receives a harsh lesson about the dangers of smoking through a nightmare sequence spectacle that channels the likes of Busby Berkeley and George Gershwin.

Already, the title card establishes a firm tone of the short not only from the photographed cluster of various pipes and cigarettes, but a hearty, all too appropriate music score of "Let That Be a Lesson to You". The photograph under a title card would not be the first 'nor last of its kind--shorts such as Porky's Hero Agency, Chicken Jitters, Porky's Pastry Pirates, and Scrap Happy Daffy all make use of the photos in their own unique ways. Here, the dark values of the pipes contrast nicely with the light values of the text, making it easy to read while remaining eye-popping and visually engaging.

To further establish the theme of right vs. wrong, the cartoon opens with a church choir singing a chorus of "The Little Old Church in the Valley". Out waddles the priest, very Tashlin-esque in his round, rubbery, stylized design. 

He approaches a mallet and pair of boards...

...and gives it a hearty handful of whacks, hitting it like a strength tester at a carnival. Thus rings the church bell, the camera following the action through quick, vertical pans.

The gag reassures the audience that, despite the sweet tone of the exposition, there's plenty of tongue-in-cheek humor in store. Strong, appealing poses and swift camera movements help to sell the gag. Camerawork especially (as it always is in a Tashlin cartoon) seems to serve a very big precedent in this short and often works to Tashlin's success, even when the movement of the camera itself was still being ironed out.

Crossfade to a distant shot of the church in town, the faint sounds of the bell ringing and little exclamatory lines successfully and smoothly bridging the two sequences together. The final strains of the chorus fade as the camera trucks out (albeit a bit jerkily) and pans to a rare sighting of Porky's mother.

Mama Pig is voiced by none other than Tedd Pierce doing a ridiculous falsetto, and, to Tashlin and Pierce's success, works. She calls him in the manner of a pig farmer, shrieking "PORKY PIIIIIIIIIG, SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY SUEY!"

The camera pans up a long, winding, staircase, providing the audience a glimpse at the art deco inspired (and frankly, expensive looking) Pig residence as Porky's mother prattles on in the background. Similarly to Major Twombley's convoluted speech in The Major Lied 'til Dawn, Mama Pig's speech is practically incomprehensible (and thusly hilarious) as she carries on in a German adjacent accent: "Hurry it up please, or for Sunday school you will be late yet!"

Out pops Porky, cast one more as a child as he answers "Alreh-reh-uhh--okay, mom!"

While Porky's age fluctuations have diminished within the past year or so, settling into a naïve young adult role, he occasionally tapped into his youthful roots every now and then. Even as "far ahead" as 1941, it's noted he's 7 years old in Porky's Preview while otherwise looking and sounding the same. Here, the decision feels more out of necessity in this case rather than ambivalence or "confusion" with the character--a young, innocent schoolboy Porky is more susceptible (and more sympathetic of a depiction) to falling into the dangers of smoking more than an adult Porky (whose oblivion and gullibility could easily land him in the same role, although the scenario itself would feel a bit more ridiculous, likely that more emphasis would be placed on Porky's gullibility.)

Asserting the theme of childlike innocence is both the music score and Porky's outfit. Audiences then would have recognized the music score being an arrangement of "Daddy's Boy", and the sailor cap get-up almost facetiously sells his innocence, tapping into the "sailor cap and lollipop" stereotype to stress that Porky is young, impressionable, and (to his later chagrin) tied around his mother's finger.

Making the most of snappy timing and camera movements, the next gag is subtle but genius; Porky meets his mother by sliding down the banister at high, reckless speeds...

...only to stop right in front of the vase at the end and lower himself as gingerly as he possibly can. The camera pan slows to a halt and crawls along as Porky lowers himself, the music gets quieter and more gentle as opposed to the rush that exploded when he whirled down the banister, and the lack of screeching brake sound effects all create a seamless, smooth as butter transition and squeeze a lot of well-earned potential out of the gag. Seemingly innocuous touches such as those can make a great difference.

Mama Pig recites more of her wisdom to her dutiful son as she wags a finger. "Und the nickel but I give you is not for the candy--no, no--but in the plate goes it!"

Porky has not only become accustomed to his mother's strange dialect, but dismissing it as the same sound clip of "Okay, mom!" is repeated.

A smooch on the head reinforces Porky's status as a bona fide momma's boy.

Tashlin exhibits more of his excellent filmmaking by executing one of his signature "concealed pans"; the camera pans right, through the exterior of the Pig home (decidedly Californian from its palm tree and cacti flora to clay tile roofing and stucco façade) and onto a 3/4 angle of the entryway, on which Porky enters in profile to ease the flow of the pan.

From Nat Falk’s
"How To Make Animated Cartoons",
1941.

All the while, Tedd Pierce retains his ridiculous narration as Mama Pig garbles indecipherable words of advice to her little boy. "Nix on talking the strange people, und crossing the street without getting boomped! Und nix on the mud playing in!"

While she goes on, Porky tunes her out, the animation of him skipping down a set of stairs rather smooth and weightless. Bob Bentley is behind the opening sequence (thank you, Devon Baxter!) and he does a damn fine job. He treads down the driveway, hands in his pockets as his permanent smile is replaced with a scowl.

"...strangers. Eh-deh-dee-deh-don't get'cher clothes eh-deh-dee-dirty." Porky deciphers his mother's cooes in a (somewhat) easier to understand manner as he grumbles and grouses under his breath. "Don't spend the eh-eh-neh-nee-nickel. Eh-be eh-cee-ceh-eh-careful crossin' the street."

Porky's complaint of "Eh-ih-it sure is a lot fer a little ol' feh-fee-fella like me to remember!" is not only amusing, but incredibly endearing. Child or not, Porky is one of the most genuine and authentic characters in the Looney Tunes universe and stands out as a commodity for that lone. While all of the characters have their genuine quirks (some much more than others), Porky's struggles, gripes, and complaints feel very grounded and his emotions feel very authentic. Many children and adults from all around the globe can relate to Porky's perils of overprotective parents and the struggle of having to abide by the rules--there is a lot of very raw, real, and sympathetic genuineness in his voice and actions here. 

Carl Stalling's gentle score of "Daddy's Boy" ending on a sweet, sentimental, and perhaps even melancholic resolution chord as the scene fades out really ties the sentimentality and endearing charms together in a big bow. For a director who was vocal about his disdain for Porky, he knew how to attach the audience to him.

Juxtaposition is a very strong component of this cartoon. To contrast the homely nature of the previous scene, the next sequence is sinister, abrasive, commanding. Enter the bully, introduced by a razzing, mean, brassy trumpet score by Carl Stalling, leaning against a fence and blowing horseshoes with his cigar. The pose, the attire (a bowler cap, open collar, and one--count 'em, one-- suspender), the music and the general disposition all effectively convey that he means business--all of this gathered without a single word being said.

To hone in on the little dickens' chumpery, the horseshoes he blows land on a nearby fire hydrant, all timed to a vibe link score of "You're a Horse's Ass".

Now, the camera pan meets in the middle, exposing both the bully on the opposite side of the fence and the sidewalk. Perfect staging for innocent little Porky to come strolling by and discover the plume of smoke overhead.

As Porky follows the smoke trail, he goes so far as to bend down and hold a hand to his ear, as though he's listening for whatever chimney lies on the other side; totally impractical, but such a great little character piece to really sell his curiosity. 

With a few furtive footsteps, Porky approaches the fence...

...and is sent flying off-screen as the plume of smoke pokes him in the eyes Three Stooges style. Again, it should be noted that the bully hasn't said a single word, yet so much about him is firmly established through music and acting. A (sequence of moving) picture(s) is worth a thousand words.

Ever well-meaning and ever-oblivious, Porky takes matters in his own hands as he confronts the bully. "Uhh-deh-dee-eh-deh-deh-don't you know what happens to uhh-leh-luh-leh-luh-little punk--uhhh, uh-beh-eh-beh-boys who smoke?" The motif of "Daddy's Boy" in the background asserts that Porky's passive aggressive jab is more innocent than malicious. That is to say, it's also incredibly funny.

The bully maintains a straight-ahead stare, still leaning against the fence as he growls "Kinda tough, ain't'cha?"

Very little momentum is broken as Porky, who was just looming over the fence, now slides into scene with a camera pan left as the bully leans in his face. "D'ya wanna fight?" A shove of the bowler cap forward means business.

While incredibly jarring at first glance, the next cut mainly serves as a bridge between the adjacent scenes. It cuts to Porky wordlessly taking off his cap and scowling with a triumphant fanfare--the close-up and up-shot are intriguing, but also vastly unsettling with the way Porky looks as a whole. Giant eyes, giant forehead, low, elfish ears do little to make him cute and cuddly. 

However, the scene, brief and jarring as it is, not only answers the bully's question with a silent yes, but saves the trouble of having the bully walk back over to the fence. It cuts directly to the next shot where he's back in position, indicating a small amount of time has elapsed. While the transition with Porky is indeed jarring and off-putting, the lack of hook-up poses is made less evident and the cheat works sufficiently.

On the topic of the following sequence, it's a wonderful showcase of Frank Tashlin's cinematographic strengths. Porky and the bully are very clear antitheses of each other, and the subsequent scenes do a phenomenal job of comparing good vs. bad, clean vs. dirty, innocent vs. guilty, whether that be conveyed through music, acting, or personality. All of the above is the correct answer.

To a deep, gravelly saxophone score of "The Merry Go Round Broke Down" in the minor key, the bully pulls of a number of smoke tricks. For the first verse, he summons a bullseye, which is hit with a discordant clang. 

Next verse, a smoke rabbit pulled out of the hat. He never once breaks eye contact with Porky offscreen, which only furthers his commanding sense of authority.

The final two verses are spent on a duck made of smoke flying away and him dispensing his ashes, bouncing the cigar off his body and landing it right in his mouth.

Stalling's music score is fantastic. Not only is it imposing, sinister, and dark, but comical and lighthearted as well. Synchronization between animation and sound is on point.

Momentum is key with Tashlin, and none is broken as the bully wastes absolutely no time getting up in Porky's face again. "How d'ya like dat, puny puss?" (It should be noted that "puss" is old slang for face.)

Mimicking the bully pushing his hat forward, Porky rises on the defense as he retaliates "I ain't a eh-peh-pee-eh-puny puss!"

As most arguments go, their brawl turns into a heated exchange of "Ya are!" "I ain't!" "Ya are!" "I ain't!"

Tashlin takes it to the next level by having the characters jerk and contort on screen, lunging the characters forward and having the screen pan right and back left as Porky exclaims 5 "I ain't!"s in a row, a mere jerky blur as his fast speech matches with his fast body movements. 

The same charade is repeated with the bully.

Admittedly, the synchronization falters a bit, and sometimes the characters move too early or too late in accordance to their dialogue, but with a scene like that, it's quite easy to get overzealous or lose track of timing. It's hardly a detriment and not incredibly noticeable at all. The scene itself is innovative and stylistic, pushing a simple schoolyard argument to graphic and comedic heights. Not only is attitude caricatured, but animation and action as well.

In the midst of all the "Ya are"-ing and "I ain't"-ing, Porky pulls out the big guns. "Eh-beh-bet'cha a nickel!"

It only takes 4 drawings for the bully to settle into a much more amiable, calm, and "pleasant" demeanor as he wraps his arm around Porky in greedy delight. His scowl is completely absent as he asks in faux innocence "A nickel?"

"One twentieth of a dolla? 5 cents? One half a dime? Did you say a nickel?"

Now, he turns downright effeminate as he puffs out his chest and bats his eyelashes. "Reah-lly? Didja?" He even goes as far as to stroke a visibly uncomfortable and overwhelmed Porky's chin. The bully walks, talks, and acts completely different compared to his prior attitude mere seconds before. It's a brilliant and bold transformation, crystal clear in its delivery and intent.

Porky is much less succinct and confident with his words as he unearths the nickel his mother gave him from his pocket. His tone is audibly uncertain and quiet, a stark contrast to the boisterous smooth talking from the bully as he fumbles "Uhh, yea-ehh-yeah, a nuh-eh-nuh-nih-eh-nickel..." 

"Dats all I want to know." A furious, vigorous handshake from the bully that jostles Porky senseless parallels a similar overpowering handshake from Porky's Railroad, another Tashlin entry. The bully hands Porky the "cee-gar" and tells him to "do ya stuff" as he marches off with his nickel, flipping it triumphantly.

Enter part 2 of the smoking duel, whose success in juxtaposition bears repeating. Porky, ridiculous in his attempt to mock the bully's angry, determined stance, chuffs along to his own rendition of "The Merry Go Round Broke Down"--major key this time, much more childish and "pure", an accurate reflection of his own naiveté and lack of experience doing cigar tricks.

Lack of experience cannot be stressed enough. When he himself puffs out a bullseye, the arrow retaliates and jabs him right in the butt.

No rabbit out of a hat, though the duck he puffs out does lay a smoky egg on his head that miraculously cracks with very real yolk. Though the crossfade between scenes hides the expression, Porky does momentarily stare at the audience, fully aware of the impossible implications.

He is successful in bouncing the cigar off his butt and his hooves...

...but has it land ash-first right in his mouth. Enter a wild take and some hilariously incongruous, full-grown adult coughing sound effects.

The entire staging of the two sequences, from the bully's tricks to Porky's, seems so simple but it's so incredibly clever and pays off beautifully. Contrast is established through music, through attitude, through tricks, and even through composition. When the bully does his tricks, there are no cuts or changes in the staging of the scene. No crossfades, no close-ups, no transitions. It's all done in a wide shot, which keeps a steady flow and momentum going.

Porky's scene, however, is full of cuts and fades. The crossfades not only cement a sensation of time elapsing, as though he has to pull himself together before starting the next trick, but it breaks up the momentum of the scene and allows it to feel more janky, more insecure, and discombobulated, an accurate reflection of Porky's demeanor in that moment.

Segue to the second half of the cartoon. We fade and iris back in to the next sequence, music low, foreboding, dramatic and anticipatory as Porky stumbles out from behind the fence in a literal fog. To heighten his deliriousness, Tashlin uses the same camera lens trickery as he did in Porky's Romance a year prior, by unscrewing the camera lens and screwing it clockwise in front of the aperture. It conveys not only a strong sense of disorientation, but a passage of time as well, as Porky is stumbling in a fugue without any awareness to his surroundings.

Conveniently for him, he staggers right in front of a smoke shop, where he does a rather cartoonish tailspin (clutching his head) before flopping against the door and somersaulting inside. Not only whimsical on the exterior, the scene has a lot of intriguing little details, such as Porky leaving a trail of smoke with his mouth agape or the sign in the window reading "GONE TO RACES -- BE BACK TOMORROW -- MAYBE".

With a piano flourish, Porky flops inside the smoke shop and passes out on the ground. Smoke lines from the cigar are surprisingly stylized and decorative as they travel up a horizontal pan of the shop's shelves.

Out pops an impish little creature through the interminable painted rows of various tobacco products. Only slight glimpses of his appearance are granted (a small, white little creature), for he hides and pops up and skirts all around the shelves in bursts, timed to a string of rolling piano chords accompanied to "Mysterious Mose". All the while, the camera pan follows his speed. 

Tashlin fools the audience with a pause as the creature hides for an extended period of time, the music now a held out oboe note rather than a piano score.

Back to the piano as the creature reveals himself and blinks at Porky below him. A long nose and spherical, geometric proportions, the little smoke imp is undoubtedly of Tashlin's design, stylized and mischievous. 

Still following the time of the music, the imp zaps Porky with his fingers, accompanied by a brazen brass score from Stalling. The bolts hit Porky, and with a signature electric guitar twang sound, he's shrunk in a stagger to the size of the imp. Impy approaches Porky, and with a snap of a smoky finger, summons him awake.

Blanc's delivery of Porky sounds reminiscent of his earliest cartoons, still trying to mimic the authentic stutter carried on by Joe Dougherty as he sputters "Uh-uh-who-uh-uhh-who-uh--who are--are you?" 

Throughout Porky and the imp's altercation, Tashlin peppers the sequence with eye-catching camera angles and composition to break up any monotony in the dialogue. As Porky speaks, he and the imp are displayed in a down shot, the counter of the store concealing half of Porky's body. When the imp speaks, the camera is now an up shot, the imp looming right into the camera and harboring a strong sense of dominance and overwhelming authority. Like Porky, the audience is made to feel small.

"Who am I?" Tedd Pierce is perfect casting for the imp, his voice warm and friendly, but gruff and gravelly at the same time. The imp's movements are full of dimension and life as he gesticulates to himself, looming over Porky and into the camera. "Why, I thought all smokers knew me!"

As he offers Porky his card, a curious detail can be heard in the audio. Seeing as the Warner Bros. cartoon studio didn't have adequate space for recording, the voice actors would often use a boom mic on a soundstage at the movie studio. Thus explains the distinctive echo heard in many a yell performed by Mel Blanc. Here, as Pierce says "Here's my card,", a man can be heard talking or directing in the background with an echo. It's faint, but certainly noticeable when caught.

Pertaining to the card itself, the imp is introduced as Nick O'Teen, residing on 1313 Tobacco Road; a reference to the wildly popular 1932 book and 1933 Broadway adaptation of said book. 

Transition to an equally sinister but much more upbeat scene as Nick takes an impressionable and eager Porky by his side, showing him around the shop. Porky's waddle and footsteps are plucky, energetic, and timed perfectly to the music. He carries a very youthful and purposefully cute demeanor about him, obviously less trepidatious than before. 

Nick himself is very pleasant, strolling past shelves of parody cigarette products ("Kamels" instead of Camel cigarettes, "Really" instead of Raleighs, "Range" instead of Granger) as he drawls "So you like to smoke, eh?" He puffs a line of smoke with a grin, holding an imaginary cigar in his smoky hands. "Well, you came to the right place, sonny."

With no further warning, he picks up Porky. To maintain a sense of motion (and also have him fit in the subsequent shot), Nick slides a tad across the screen as it pans while he picks Porky up and throws him onto a box of pipe cleaners, now much more domineering and sinister as he shouts "AND YOU GET ALL THE SMOKING YOU CAN HANDLE!"

Pipe cleaners tangle around Porky and hold him hostage as Nick himself plops down on a box of safety matches (guaranteed harmless) in front of a literal pipe organ. The camera pans up to reveal the tobacco pipes at the top of the organ, chuffing out smoke as Nick introduces the cartoon's musical number: "Mysterious Mose".

The chorus is sung in the stylings of the Mills Brothers, unfortunately and uncomfortably caricatured as blackface matches as they strike themselves to life. Their vocals are provided by the Basin Street Boys, and a sample of their music can be found here. Despite the grotesque visuals, the Basin Street Boys are in fine form and make for an incredibly catchy song number on the dangers of smoking.

As they sing, the camera panels left across the shop; an anthropomorphic lighter strikes a flame on 6 cigars, which are all aligned together. They're hooked up to a pipe that is operated by Nick himself, his warm demeanor nowhere to be found as he forces Porky to breathe the fumes in with a gas mask. 

In the midst of the chorus, an anthropomorphic London pipe (accent and all) chides "Children should not smoke, rather!" Tashlin's design of the pipe is far from bland and very imaginative; dot eyes, monocle, bulbous nose and mustache, even cufflinks and arms made to look like sleeves. 

Next, more cigarette puns as the singers all contribute to the chorus. Bull Durham tobacco is referenced (as well as one Tubby Millar on the packaging, despite this short being written by George Manuell), as well as Fatima cigarettes ("Fat Emma") and Night Owl ("Nite Howl") cigars.

A corn cob pipe speaks in typical Blancanese country jargon as he croaks "Little kids shouldn't smoke tobaccy!" He lobs a wad of dip with an affirming nod of the head.

Real chewing tobacco, of course.

No cartoon from the '30s is complete without a Three Stooges reference. A play on the word "stogie", the Stooges, in all of their disconcerting and hilarious realism, give the shanghaied Porky a barrage of eye pokes as he observes from his pipe cleaner shackles.

Corona Corona cigars are now branded as Crooner Crooner, featuring the likenesses of Bing Crosby and Rudy Vallee. Crosby would continue to be caricatured (and also made fun of) in many a cartoon, whereas Vallee's heyday in the Warner Bros universe had been earlier in the '30s. They too lend their vocals to the anti-smoking message, both in their distinctive singing stylings. As a side note, the simplicity of the backgrounds being a flat black color make for a wonderfully bold and stylistic effect. Tashlin really puts his values to use and makes use of the black and white color palette.

After another lecture from the London pipe ("Little boys should not smoking cigarettes!"), Nick now has Porky hooked up to a contraption that force feeds him bricks of chewing tobacco by prying his snout open, shoveling the chewing tobacco in, and forcing him to both chew and swallow. The scene, a whimsical ribbon tied on a rather morbid premise, calls back comparisons Friz Freleng's Pigs is Pigs. Both deal with inventive machines force-feeding pigs against their will, and both are of merit. Once more, the pure black background and sinister yet playful music score make for a bold and mischievous atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the racial stereotypes begin to eke out more as the scene progresses. As the Mills Brothers-esque matches score the music with vocal percussion, a limber man made of pipe cleaners scans his surroundings on the shelves. His limber disposition and clean, exaggerated poses are a sort of forbearer to the strong, dynamic poses that would reign in Tashlin's later cartoons.

After a handful of start and stop camera moves, the pipe cleaner finds the object of his pursuit; a pipe.

Cue the typical blackface gag as he stuffs his face in the ash. Tashlin, at the very least, sticks with the theme of the music and has the pipe cleaner as a caricature of Cab Calloway (very similar in fashion to Porky at the Crocadero) who bellows "Little boooooys shouldn't smoke!" in Calloway-ian style. Derogatory, of course, but (just as was the case in Crocadero) the vocals are spot on and very strong.

Thus leads to the second half of the number, a George Gershwin and Busby Berkely styled dance number. Now, Porky is bound to a lit cigar as a handful of Indigenous cigars (perhaps a nod to the brand Big Feather) perform a war dance. In spite of the harmful stereotypes, credit is needed where credit is due--the animation of the cigars is full and constructed, the composition with the flat, raised horizon line is anything but flat, and the Gershwin-esque music stylings of "Mysterious Mose" are absolutely to die for.

Stalling's score is easily one of the best aspects of the number. A Havana cigar (donning a sombrero) shakes boxes of matches to the beat of the music, and the score turns from triumphant and bold to a samba, complete with castanets and maracas.

My favorite portion of the number is the following scene. The Havana cigars all mirror each other as they dance in a line and approach Porky, who actively struggles against the ropes with wide, mystified eyes. 

The cigars take off their sombreros, puffing smoke in Porky's face. Even the sound effects of the smoke puffs are timed and even sound like the music.

Stalling's music score is, again, drop dead gorgeous. The cue that plays as the cigars retreat from a visibly delirious Porky is gentle, flighty, repressed, and even dreamlike reflect Porky's daze. During the entire scene, the animation is flowing, full, and incredibly well synchronized. Porky, despite his less than ideal situation, is drawn with plenty of appeal. For a sequence dedicating to torturing a child via smoke inhalation and carcinogens, it's packed with plenty of whimsy and playful, warm energy.

Enter the Busby Berkeley aspect of the sequence, the music score a stark contrast in its blazing, triumphant nature. As some cigarettes play drums against cans of snuff and tobacco, an army of cigarettes march in time and intersect right through each other, eventually forming the words "NO SMOKING" on the black background. Such simple composition, and yet so bold. The animation is perfectly in synch with the sound effects and the music, the sizes remain consistent and the shapes remain full and constructed. Stalling's gorgeous music score speaks for itself. 

In all, the entire sequence, both song and dance number, are bogged down today by racial stereotypes. They are indeed harmful and put a damper on the spectacle. With that said, without discrediting the egregiousness of the stereotypes, this entire sequence alone is one of the pinnacles of Tashlin's directing. It is imaginative, it is whimsical, it is funny and it is engaging. Full animation, full orchestrations, all full of energy and heart. I've attached the dance sequence portion above because it simply oozes with Tashlin's artistic merit and spirit and, despite its stereotypes, is a grand showcase of his talent. Easily the pinnacle of his cartoon, and even his career.

To close out the high of the sequence, Tashlin employs one of his signature montages: overlaid footage of the previous events to convey a passage of time. Eventually, the montage ends with Porky scrambling away from an all too gleeful Nick O'Teen, reaching out and swiping to capture his prey. A great anxiety inducing score of "Mysterious Mose" heightens the urgency and dramatics of the sequence.

With a brassy crescendo, all of the orchestral instruments getting louder and louder, more aggressive, more anxious, the climax is reached when Porky falls off the counter of the shop.

Silence. All is silent... except for the electric guitar slide as Porky grows back to his original size, cigar in hand.

At last, he comes to, in the same position as he was when he started. After such a brash and excited sequence, the tone is now calm and eerily still. Porky awakens to a muted (and appropriate) score of "Daydreaming" as the sound of bells brings him out of his stupor.

He looks around, and then up, trying to place the source of the clamor.

Church bells! 

He rushes out of the shop and across the street, scrambling to make it to church on time. Tashlin wastes no time getting Porky to his destination through quick cuts and pans.

Safe! The saccharine chorus of "The Little Old Church in the Valley" sung at the beginning of the cartoon makes a return. It's odd to see wise cracking, cynical, aggressive characters such as the Looney Tunes cast (Porky included) in a church setting. 

Porky is completely innocent. Nick O'Teen, who? Smoking, what?

Pan down the pew to some very round, graphically minded and Tashlin-esque characters placing their coins in the collection plate. 

Suddenly, realization strikes...

...and an empty pocket confirms Porky's worst fears. Nickel-less!

In another signature Tashlin move, Porky races right out of the church just as fast as he had raced in. There are some rather ghastly and intriguing churchgoers painted in the background.

Who else but Tashlin would make Porky run out of the church, run to the bully, steal his nickel, run back to the church, place the nickel in the plate, and address the audience, all in the span of 22 seconds? Not only that--the real miracle is that it works!

Stalling's muted trumpet score of "Mysterious Mose" is hurried, but playfully rather than as a threat. As the bully flips the coin up and down, a flourish is added to the music score--Stalling would do the same in Bob Clampett's The Daffy Doc just a few months later.

Porky is quick to retrieve the nickel from the bully, and even quicker to high-tail it out of there. No more bets for him.

The bully, meanwhile, is a little slow to catch on. I'm a fan of his odd buck tooth.

Nevertheless, Porky makes amends by darting back in scene and stuffing the Cigar of Doom back in the bully's mouth. Revenge is a cigar best served gently used. 

Amusingly enough, Tashlin reuses the initial animation of Porky darting back into the church. As a result, he still has the cigar in his hand. A totally innocuous error that would be silly to truly dig into, and is much more humorous than anything. 

Back to the pew for good this time. Porky's coy "I didn't do it" expression as he places the nickel in the collection plate is priceless.

We end on a rather innocent note as a profoundly bald Porky stutters along to the church choir, "I will eh-neh-nee-neh-nee-neh-nee-neh-never eh-seh-eh-seh-eh-seh-ehh-ehh-seh-ehh-ehh-smoke ugh-agai-uhgee-uhgeh-uhh-againnnn!"

Hmm.

I've said it before, but for a man who was vocal about his dislike of the character, Frank Tashlin made some excellent Porky cartoons. This is easily one of his best Porky shorts, and one of his best cartoons in general--likely his best (or at least one of) during his first tenure at Warner Bros.

While the cartoon has a good message and packs plenty of genuine and endearing charm to it, it is also filled to the brim with funny jokes and gags, spot on comedic timing, funny drawings, funny designs. It never comes across as patronizing or holier-than-thou. It is filled with excellent animation, a gorgeous music score, inventive composition, innovative designs, and intricate camerawork and cuts. There is no sense of belittlement that "preachier" cartoons (which this isn't at all) tend to slip into.

A genuine love for filmmaking and theatrics shines in this cartoon, especially during the Mysterious Mose sequence. The best sequence in the cartoon is also, ironically enough, the worst; the racial stereotypes age very poorly and read as unpleasant at best. With that said, the mechanics and techniques behind that sequence--the animation mechanics itself, the music, the composition, and the personality, are all in top form. My only complaint with the short is the racial stereotypes. Other than that, I enjoy every second of the film and am firm in my belief that it is one of Tashlin's best. You won't be finding the same production value in a Ben Hardaway Porky Pig cartoon anytime soon, or even a Clampett Porky. 

In spite of the discomfort brought on by the stereotypes, I absolutely implore you to take a watch, if only just once. Admittedly, I wasn't very big on this cartoon when I first saw it. Diving deep into the cartoon and analyzing the what and the how has absolutely changed my mind, and for the better.

As previously mentioned, be on the lookout for the racial stereotypes. Other than that, enjoy!