142. Porky's Moving Day (1936)

Disclaimer: This cartoon contains racist contents, stereotypes, imagery, and concepts. I do not at all endorse this content and I find it gross and wrong. While this isn’t as extreme as other depictions, it just as well needs to be noted and talked about. Thank you for understanding and bearing with me.

Release date: September 12th, 1936

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Jack King

Starring: Joe Dougherty (Porky), Elvia Allman (Homeowner), Joe Twerp (Dopey)

The day has come: here since the heart of the Buddy days, Jack King marks his final cartoon at Warner Bros. with Porky’s Moving Day. I’ve warmed up to him and appreciate his ambition, and I’ve heard nothing but great things about his Donald Duck cartoons at Disney, though I can’t say I’m too heartbroken to see him go. Better things are on the way from here on out! For his final entry: Porky is in charge of a moving company, and has to empty out a house as fast as possible as the threat of the house toppling into the ocean looms.

Open to Porky’s moving van (appropriately labeled as such in big black letters on the exterior), nothing more than a little wooden shack. Porky and his assistant are fast asleep on their cots inside. Elsewhere, pandemic: a house brilliantly built threatens to topple over the edge of a cliff, waves repeatedly throwing the house into the air. A woman darts from window to window, crying for help. The woman is none other than a Clarabelle Cow facsimile (which would have worked maybe 3 years prior, but the Disney influence has definitely begun to fade by this point... except for King.) As her house teeters along, she struggles to keep her furniture in place, pushing it back as various items threaten to run her over as the house leans back and forth.

Fretfully does "Clarabelle" (her unofficial nickname for simplicity's sake) ring up the operator in the telephone, begging for “Bunyan”. Her call is interrupted by a drastic lean of the house, and she topples over the window, the cord snapping in the process. She hangs upside down out of the window, still calling into her broken mouthpiece for Bunyan. I’m sure this is a reference going way over my head, but it’s obnoxious regardless.

Back at Porky’s moving van, the phone rings. Porky’s assistant wakes up at the sound of the ring and instantly grows punchy, boxing with an invisible foe at the sound of the ring. Porky approaches, mallet in hand, and conks the guy over the head. He immediately stops and drones “Okay, booooooss.” A phrase that will be repeated 7 TIMES throughout this cartoon, same voice recording and all! 

Nevertheless, the phone rings on, and Porky answers with a chipper “Porky the mover!” Clarabelle panics on the other end, derailing about how her furniture won’t stay in place and that her house is bound to tip over anytime. “Oh for sakes and gosh! We’ll be right over!” Porky then tells his assistant “C’mon Dopey, we got a job!” Wow, that’s not at all seriously offensive: a subtly black-faced caricature of a monkey named Dopey whose only line is saying “Okay, boss” over and over again. I’m shocked they didn’t give him a stereotypical accent—had this come out in 1938 or 1939 instead, you could bet your bottom dollar that Mel Blanc would be doing his Rochester impression as the voice.

Porky crawls outside of his van, where we see his pet ostrich Lulu resting by a tree. He wakes her up and positions for her to get into place in front of the van. Climbing onto the front, Porky grabs the reins—his assistant arbitrarily “okay boss”ing him for no reason at all—and orders Lulu to step on it. They race through town, Lulu eventually running on air as a result of the high speeds. The animation is rather nice here, and the accompanying siren sounds are a nice touch.

Lulu screeches to a halt at their destination, the van swinging a full rotation and right up close to the audience for impact. Porky meets Clarabelle, who barks some frantic orders to him. Porky and Clarabelle rush inside, the door slamming on Dopey. He rings the doorbell, and the sound of the bell sends him into a fit once more. Don Williams animates this absolutely beautiful display of animation, that, surprisingly, is NOT from a redrawn colorized version of the cartoon with a grayscale filter over it. This is the real deal! It seems like even the animators weren’t into this one. Not sure what happened here, but it’s pretty bad. Sorry Don. Another conk on the head, another “okay boss.” 

Inside, Porky unloads the furniture into some outside, unknown source. No image of the furniture piled outside. A piano threatens to flatten him into a piggy pancake after another jostle from the waves outside, and Porky steadies himself on the leaning wall for support. “Holy smoke, we’ll never get out of here!” Porky drops a mattress outside the window, and somehow manages to push the piano out, which crashes into the earth and forms a gaping hole, any trace of the mattress or piano gone. The waves tilt the house in the opposite direction, and Porky crashes into a toy tricycle, sending him down the other end of the house. He barrels into Dopey, urging him to “Snap out of it.” You’ll never guess what Dopey says in response! And, of course, Dopey dismantles an entire fireplace from the wall and drags it along.

Meanwhile, Porky turns his attention to other areas of the house, rolling up a portion of a carpet and rolling it with his feet like a log roller. There is some pretty interesting animation as he weaves between hallways, “sucking up” portions of the rug. It certainly has potential that goes unrealized, though. And, for some reason, Lulu is in the house, strutting in the way of Porky’s giant log of fabric. He runs her over, wrapping her up in an uncontrollable burrito as he barrels down a staircase and crashes into a wall. The impact sends Lulu unraveling back UP the staircase (Porky still on the floor), eventually rolling to a halt as she twirls around like a top on her beak.

Dopey, on the other hand, carries an array of tables, all stacked neatly together like matryoshka dolls. The tables begin to fall, one after the other, forming a makeshift staircase that dopey scales as he heads towards the window. The table is too big to fit through the window, and he’s sent spinning around, flying back down his staircase and sliding across the floor. Instead, he turns his attention towards a shelf full of plates, carelessly dumping them into a barrel. He lifts up the barrel, and sure enough it has no bottom to it: a pile of neatly stacked plates rest on the floor. Even though the sound effects make it sound like the porcelain is being reduced to shards. What fun! It would have been so much funnier if he neatly carried away a pile of broken fragments instead of neatly stacked plates.

And, for some reason, Lulu swallows an alarm clock. The clock goes off, ringing incessantly. Uh oh, ringing! Dopey immediately discards his plates, NOW reduced to fragments as he boxes against his invisible foe once more. A spare plate conks him on the head, and he (say it with me now) responds “okay, boss.” Porky runs along with a table on his back, eagerly barreling through the doorway. The table is too big to fit through, and he’s sent into a whirl, flying backwards. As he recollects himself, he attempts to free the lodged table from the doorway, but to no avail. Dopey meanders along with some sort of string device, almost like a harp? I think it may be some bed springs. The frame gets stuck in the doorway, and he walks along, still holding onto the strings, which threaten to slingshot him any moment.

And, of course, they do. He’s sent rocketing into Porky, who’s still carrying the table. He, in turn, is sent flying out the window, barely holding onto half of the table which is SOMEHOW connected to the house inside... by the legs??? It’s like another slingshot. Not the most comprehensible cartoon for sure. To make matters worse, a steamboat is parked outside in the choppy waters, the steam scalding Porky’s butt. He’s now sent flying back inside, and just in time: water starts to gush in through the window.

Porky struggles to block it out, resorting to swimming upstream as the relentless waterfall keeps on coming. It’s just as well: the climax is quickly put to an end as the water sends all of the furniture streaming conveniently into the back of Porky’s van. So, this whole time, they were unloading furniture from the opposite end of the house. Way to make less work for yourself! Lulu pops up from inside a barrel, alarm clock still lodged in her throat. It rings once more, Dopey emerging from a laundry hamper swinging. Porky rises from a set of dresser drawers, giving him a good ol’ knock on the head with the mallet. I’ll bet you $5 you don’t know what the last line of the cartoon is.

Jack King was starting to grow on me, but after seeing this one, I’m back to my opinion of neutrality leaning on dislike. Aside from the blatant racism of Dopey’s entire existence, this isn’t a funny cartoon at all, and just feels menial and boring. This feels like something straight out of a 1932 Bosko cartoon. I think, ultimately, that was what King’s biggest weakness was, especially in comparison to the others: being behind the times. His cartoons would have fit perfectly during the rampant Disney attitude of the Harman and Ising cartoons, but when Tex Avery and Friz Freleng are littering their cartoons with witty humor and gags, King’s cartoons don’t stand a chance. His Buddy cartoons were better than Ben Hardaway's, and his Beans cartoons weren’t bad, but Porky wasn’t his strong suit. Shanghaied Shipmates was probably his strongest effort, and likely the only cartoon of King’s that I’ll be returning to (watch me eat my words.) (May 2021 update: I've eaten my words many times since writing this in March of 2020.) 

In terms of this cartoon, it’s a no: don’t waste your time, there’s really nothing to see here. In terms of Jack King: it was a good run, maybe, but now we’re onto bigger and better things. This is where things start to get good.

Link!

136. Porky’s Pet (1936)

Release date: July 11th, 1936

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Jack King

Starring: Joe Dougherty (Porky)

The first of MANY, MANY cartoons to flaunt Porky’s name in the title. This is also Jack King’s second to last cartoon at Warner Bros—he headed back for Disney as early as April 1936, leaving the rest of his films to run on. Porky’s Moving Day, released in September, would be his last. For now: Porky and his pet ostrich Lulu are Broadway bound, but trouble arises when the train forbids any animals to board. It’s up to Porky to find a way to hide his extremely noticeable and indiscreet pet.

A telegram boy is pedaling along on his bicycle, determined to deliver his envelope, bumping all along the way. Signs in the background include advertisements for “Malaria Motel” and “Buy Burton’s Burpo Beer”, a reference to producer John Burton. The scene runs a little long, yet it’s deliberate so as to show off the syncopation between the animation, music, and sound effects of intermittent bike horn honking.

Nevertheless, the telegram boy arrives at his destination by crashing into the sidewalk. Unscathed, he jauntily hops onto the porch and rings the doorbell a few times. Out comes Porky, who answers the door. A telegram just for him. He accepts the envelope and signs off. An amusing little detail as he tucks the envelope in the lip of his sweater, taking it out and tearing off the side.

The telegram reads: 

MR. PORKY PIG 

CAN USE YOU AND LULU IN MY NEW SHOW $75 WEEK. STOP. (that’s how you ended a sentence, considering there was no morse code equivalent to a period)

COME NEW YORK AT ONCE

J. BOTTS 

PRODUCER 

Remember when I said Porky would never say “WHOOPEEEEE!” again after Gold Diggers of ‘49? Well, that’s one bet I lost. I totally forgot, but he says his famous “WHOOPEE!” here, too. I think this is the last time he says it, unless Porky’s Moving Day has a surprise waiting for me. Regardless, Porky is ecstatic. He dashes upstairs, telegram in hand, skidding to a halt into his bedroom.

He approaches a birdcage, where we see the beginnings of a big bird head inside. Porky shows off the letter to his pet, stuttering “Look, Lulu! Look!”

A clever pan reveals that Lulu is, in fact, a giant pet ostrich with her head in the birdcage and the rest of her body perched in a rocking chair. Lulu gives her approval by squawking hilariously and incomprehensibly. “We’re Broadway bound, Lulu! We’re gonna be big shots!” 

Porky hardly wastes any time tying a rope around lulu’s neck and freeing her from the confines of her arbitrary birdcage. With his hat on his head and a couple of oddly placed train whistle imitations, Porky declares “Let’s go!” and together they fly down the staircase, Lulu sliding down on the banister. Good animation that’s easily mesmerizing. Lulu hits the end of the banister while Porky runs ahead, nearly choking her as he flies back towards her from the impact. Nevertheless she gets down, and Porky’s so excited he whips out the door, the door closing on Lulu and hitting her right in the face. She chatters Porky out furiously, but manages to recover.

Some time later, Porky and his prized Lulu arrive at the train station, seeking out the nearest train. After hearing the sound of the all too familiar whistle, Porky attempts to flag down the train, waving his hand and his hat to get it to stop. We then get a shot of the train, hurtling down the tracks at frightening speeds. So fast that the conductor doesn’t take note of Porky and his very obvious bird companion. The train speeds by, spinning Porky  Lulu, and the entire station around like a top, a sequence that would be perfected and stronger in Tex Avery’s The Village Smithy.

Both Porky and Lulu attempt to recover from the impact, Porky stuttering “Stop!” all too late while Lulu has her head buried in a hole in the floorboards. Nevertheless, they both recover quickly when the sound of another train approaches. This time, Porky thinks ahead. He pulls a lever that flashes a stop sign, and the speeding train literally jolts to a stop on the middle of the tracks. Good timing and amusingly stark visuals make the gag work. There’s an intriguing angle from inside the station as we view Porky and Lulu happily board from outside. Silence... until a yokel train conductor yells “YOU CAN’T BRING NO BUZZARD ON THIS TRAIN!” 

Lulu and Porky are promptly kicked out, landing right inside the station. If you notice, one of the flyers posted advertises Millar Manor, a reference to story man Tubby Millar. Considering Millar was a storyman often associated with Frank Tashlin, who inherited King’s unit, it’s not a stretch o surmise that he’s responsible for this cartoon’s story.

Porky signals for Lulu to bend down low, and he whispers a plan in her ear. The plan: Lulu wait by the tracks while Porky boards, and he’ll pick her up as the train passes by. Lulu gives her squawks of approval. Porky signals for Lulu to go to her post, and he himself boards the train.

Sure enough, the train begins to chug, the wheels turning. Lulu waits patiently, and just as Porky promised, he sticks his hand out the window and grabs her by the neck. Her neck is so long that the rest of her body lags behind, flopping in the wind, much to the surprise of one of the passengers looking out the window. Porky wrestles her inside, and everything’s good to go.

Here we have it, folks! The infamous “Porky stuffing an ostrich up his ass” scene. Porky realizes he didn’t quite think things through. An ostrich is a pretty damn noticeable bird. He signals under the seat, trying to stuff her in, ordering “Hurry up, Lulu! Get under the seat before the conductor sees ya!” Another push, and her head pops out of the crack in the seat, giving some happy squabbles. Treg Brown’s sound effects turn a puzzling scene into an amusing one with nonstop honking, Porky wrestling with how to get both ends of her body under the seat. It’s still a relatively awkward scene, but the sound effects certainly add humor to it. 

Eventually Porky opts to sit on the seat himself, stuffing Lulu’s body under and hoping he can conceal her head. But, as to be expected, Lulu pecks him right in the butt and he jumps up in shock. Another stuff beneath the seat, and she’s about as concealed as she’ll get. Porky grins at the camera, clearly accomplished with his feat.

But, as birds will do, Lulu hardly stays in one place long. She wrangles herself out from beneath the seat and swallows the toupee of a sleeping passenger’s from behind.

Ham or Ex make one final appearance! If only there was any indication as to how to tell them apart. The little pup turns the propeller of a toy plane and watches it whirl around in fascination. The plane makes its way towards Lulu, who promptly swallows it. Of course, the plane is still on, and works its way up from her throat all the way to her head, giving her “dog ears”. Amusing animation as Lulu’s neck loops around itself, the plane in her head directing her uncontrollably as she loops around her own body, flipping and flying around. She crashes right into a door, where the plane just... disappears. She doesn’t spit it out or anything of the sort, it just... melts away. Nevertheless.

Lulu now has her sights set on an accordion, which she also deems a delicious snack. And, predictably, her neck moves up and down and sounds like an accordion. A very predictable gag that isn’t all that hilarious, but Porky’s look of pure horror as she strolls past his seat is totally priceless.

Just in time for the conductor to ask for tickets. Panic-stricken, Porky snags a guitar case out from under the seat in front of him and stuffs Lulu inside. Her accordion neck blares loudly and noticeably, and he grabs her neck and wrings it out, sliding the accordion down to her body where it disappears. First a plane and now an accordion! Maybe Lulu’s act on broadway is “The Bottomless Ostrich”. She now fits in the guitar case... except for her feathers, which prominently stick out of the bottom. Porky steals someone’s pair of scissors (what a thief!) and cuts off the fluff, and instead of returning the scissors hilariously throws them out the window instead, hiding the feathers under the seat. Instead of just, you know, tossing them out instead.

The conductor approaches Porky for his ticket, but Lulu suddenly grows rowdy, giving herself away immediately as the guitar case begins to jolt around and squawk. She wrestles her legs free and barrels into the conductor, who now rides on top of the guitar case like some sort of twisted steed. Lulu barrels into the end of the cabin, freeing herself from the case. Porky goes to wrangle back his bird, but it’s too late. The conductor furiously throws her out the window, and then throws Porky out himself. Nice service! 

They reconnect on the tracks, Porky shrugging dubiously. Fortune smiles upon them when they spot a handcar. They both board at opposite ends, preparing to push their way to broadway, yet a cow blocks their path. No matter! Porky positions himself on the handles and grabs the cow’s tail like some reins, and they’re off. Soon they even manage to pass the very train they were booted from, much to the bewilderment of the conductor, who passes out as Porky tips his hat and Lulu squawks her greetings. Iris out.

With a lot of these rewatches of the Jack King cartoons, I’ve softened my perception of them and appreciated them more, but they’re still relatively below average. Nevertheless, this cartoon was, if anything, amusing. Not particularly funny, but amusing to watch Porky’s plight as he works so hard to hide his Very Obvious pet. Lulu’s squawking is hilariously obnoxious, which works in her favor and against her at the same time. The animation was very smooth and fun to watch for sure, especially with Lulu sliding down the banister and swallowing the toy plane. Lulu would make one more appearance in Porky’s Moving Day. I wonder, if King stayed longer, how many more cartoons she would have popped up in. Overall a decent cartoon but nothing to write home about. It wouldn’t kill you to watch it, but I think you’d be fine if you went without.

Link!

134. Shanghaied Shipmates (1936)

Release date: June 20th, 1936

Series: Looney Tunes 

Director: Jack King

Starring: Joe Dougherty (Porky), Billy Bletcher (Captain, Hippo), The Sportsmen Quartet (Chorus)

The first of a number of cartoons inspired by MGM’s Mutiny on the Bounty (‘35). As the title suggests, the cartoon details the harsh conditions porky and his shipmates endure thanks to a dictatorial captain.

On occasion, I’ve likened Jack King to Frank Tashlin—both directors with a keen eye for cinematography. While Tashlin is inarguably the better director, more confident and ambitious than King, King certainly thought in cinematographic terms, as the opening scene suggests. A mist overlay shrouds a seaside town as we hone in on a bar. Our favorite pig is doing a dance front and center while a gang of rowdy drunkards cheer him on. A hippo plays tickles the ivory on dueling pianos, and a goat tugs ferociously on a rope connected to some heavy object offscreen—a giant mug of beer. All is well.

All is well inside the bar, that is. The mist overlay compliments the foreboding atmosphere as we get a shot of a docked ship and a lone captain pacing around on deck. Suddenly, a tiny little bespectacled dog (one of the supporting members of the I Haven’t Got a Hat gang) hilariously ambles on deck, even climbing over the captain and hopping back down onto the floor, declaring “The crew’s deserted the blinkin’ ship!” The captain is far from pleased, snarling in his assistant’s (christened Mr. Stew) the only suitable comeback would be to shanghai the crew.

The two pace through the streets of town and break into the bar. There’s a rather Tashlin-esque camera angle as the captain analyzes one cowardly drunk in particular. It comes off as random and slightly misplaced, but certainly an interesting angle that’s worthy of a kudos for experimentation. King experimented with his cinematography, but not much else. With a steely glare, the captain pummels his victim and sends him whirling back onto the ship. The process continues, and one by one victims whirl back into their place, the bar growing emptier by the second.

Finally, all of the shipmates are back on deck... except one. Porky attempts to hide, diving into the inside of a piano, but his tail sticking out of the doors tells on himself immediately. The captain drags him out, grinning condescendingly as Porky insists “You can’t do this to me!” Of course he can! The captain, relatively unbothered, shoos Porky along, giving a bellowing laugh and smacking Porky in the butt to get him to go.

Highly amusing setup as Porky now scrubs the deck of the ship with the most contemptuous expression, glaring absolute daggers at the captain who surveys his every movement. Porky’s disdain gets to him, and in an act of rebellion he slips the soap from his grip and slides it all the way to where the captain is marching. And, of course, the captain slips, none too pleased. Porky acknowledges what he’s done, naive mischief now replaced with visible anxiety as he braces for punishment. Said punishment: a bar of soap shoved down his piggy gullet. Once more, Porky insists “You can’t do this to me!”, but a hiccup spawning a multitude of bubbles destroys any sort of authority or credibility.

Porky goes back to scrubbing when one of his shipmates checks to see what all the fuss is about. A hiccup later and Porky attempts to explain himself, hindered by not only a stutter but an entire bar of soap lodged in his throat, eventually gagging “Agh-agh-aghh, soap!” 

Thankfully, his buddy is a good sport. The shipmate pulls Porky’s tail and slingshots it back, propelling the soap out of his mouth and back onto the deck... where it ends up perfectly in position in front of the lumbering captain, who falls victim to the bar of soap once more. A hippo sticks his head out from inside the ship just to guffaw at the captain—he gets his as the captain placed him in stocks, forcing a cat to lick his feet while the captain bellows in laughter.

After some more mismanagement of the shipmates, we now go to lunch as a dog blares the lunch fanfare through a tuba. A stampede of starving shipmates trample him in seconds, the dog weakly blaring out a few more notes after the fact. A gag very similar in nature to Boom Boom, another King entry.

Certainly nothing can go wrong at lunch, right? An expectant Porky observes as the captain stalls with his heaping bowl of fried chicken. Porky is so deprived of food that he can hardly contain his unadulterated glee, slapping his face and bouncing up and down and running his hands together. At first I found the scene to be much more disconcerting than anything, but now that I rewatch it, it’s pretty funny in a very unconventional and off-putting manner. Funnier than what was intended to be.

Paul Smith animates the shipmates receiving their hearty meals: nothing but a plain old bone, the captain stripping every single piece of chicken of its contents. The shipmates are not at all happy. A hippo folds his arms in rebellion, a dog resorts to scarfing down his own hat as a means of sustenance, another chopping his bone to pieces and rolling his eyes all around, and even Porky tearfully pouring salt on his bone and pitifully licking it off. The scene is unfortunately hindered by the restrained simplicity of Smith’s animation, and thusly doesn’t reach its potential in terms of humor. Once more, wannabe rebel Porky reaches out for a fully packed chicken leg, receiving a slap of the wrist and a bone down the throat in shock.

A week crawls on, and the shipmates are more stir crazy than ever. They bang their mugs against the dining hall table, all chanting “We want food! We want food!” in unison. Finally fed up, Porky crawls onto the table and signals for the rest of the gang to huddle in as he whispers a plan. Just then, Mr. Stew pokes his head into the dining hall and is surprisingly smart enough to put two and two together. The animation of him going to alert the captain, scrambling all around the deck and twirling around a pole, is very amusing and funny. “Mutiny, captain! Mutiny!” 

The rowdy shipmates continue to demand for their food as the captain barges into the dining hall, armed with duel pistols. A ballsy Porky marches up to the captain and asserts “We demand food!” But, of course, his diminutive size is nothing for the giant captain, who merely blows him over and pins him against the wall with a deep breath. With that, Porky orders “C’mon, men! Get ‘im!” and thus sparks mutiny on the bounty as all of the men tackle the captain, gunshots firing in defense.

Porky himself sets his sights on Mr. Stew. Certainly one of the funniest moments in a King cartoon as Porky pins Mr. Stew down, Mr. Stew holding up a hand to pause for a second. He signals to his glasses, lifting them up as if to say “Would you hit a guy with glasses?” Even better, mild-mannered Porky gingerly places them aside, and then wastes no time as he decks Mr. Stew in the face repeatedly. Great timing and great unspoken dialogue.

Now the fight rages on on the deck of the ship, some shipmates even flying overboard and jumping ship. Porky leads his crusade to victory as they all charge towards the captain. In retaliation, the captain whips a menacing cannon right in front of them, threatening to knock them all over like vengeful bowling pins.

However, his plan backfires (no pun intended): he shoots, and the force of the shot is so tremendous that the captain is scooped onto the cannon as it rolls backwards and propels itself into the air. He lands in the comfort of a bunch of crates. Crates labeled as explosives. One explosion later, and the shipmates are singing merrily, lazily drifting across the ocean current on a raft, Porky in the lead and armed with a whip. Pan over to the captain pulling the entire caravan of crusaders, receiving a few hearty whips from porky as we iris out.

I didn’t think much of this cartoon when I first saw it, but I certainly appreciate it more now. Not phenomenal by any means, and still hides in the shadow of Tex and Friz. The gags don’t always hit, some scenes suffering from a lack of confidence and conviction. However, with that said, this was an ambitious cartoon and certainly adventurous. Though it didn’t always work out in his favor, King worked ambitiously and experimented with camera angles and surreal ideas, but his execution was where his cartoons were bogged down. Good ideas that struggled to be realized. I give him credit for attempting to experiment so often! I’ve started to gain a little respect for him (though his cartoons unfortunately don’t really rival the others during this time period.) This was a high energy cartoon that had its moments, such as Mr. Stew’s run cycles, Porky contemptuously scrubbing the ship deck, and the fight scene between Porky and Mr. Stew. I think this is one of King’s more interesting cartoons and would fare well as a single watch, but that’s probably about it.

Link!

132. Fish Tales (1936)

Release date: May 23rd, 1936

Series: Looney Tunes 

Director: Jack King

Starring: Joe Dougherty (Porky), Billy Bletcher (fish)

Let the fun of the Jack King Porky cartoons begin. In truth, he didn’t direct that many at all. Maybe 4 tops, but they’re so strange that they left such a mark on me. I said i’d never rewatch them again, and here I am! They’re not as bad as I make them out to be, and they’re certainly ambitious, which I give King credit for. Yet they’re certainly... off putting, and this one is the most disturbing in my opinion. So, with that warm, happy, promising introduction: Porky heads out to the lake for some fishing, but once he falls asleep he has a surreal dream that the fish are catching HIM instead, and it’s up to Porky to escape before turning into a pig roast.

Any day is a happy day for Porky  We open to our porcine pal strolling along, fishing rod in hand, whistling merrily. Life is good. He passes by a tiny hole in the ground, where two little worms poke their heads out. They both follow porky to his boat, tied to a stake in the ground on land. Porky climbs aboard and notices the worms, sticking his can out so they can climb in. One of the worms hops in and signals for the other to join, the other strutting around à la Mae West until the first worm yanks him inside. The animation of the worms, and in this cartoon in general, is very fluid and enjoyable.

Porky cranks the motor on, and the boat sputters to life. Unfortunately, there’s one caveat: the boat is still tied to the stake in the ground. Evidently the motor’s got quite the oomph to it—some lovely animation as Porky’s boat threatens to drag the entire land behind him. Instead, the boat is swung around in a circle, the rope eventually wearing thin and snapping, sending Porky catapulting across the lake. Seeing as Bob McKimson gets an animation credit, I wonder if this is his work: very solid, top notch, mesmerizing animation.

The engine roars on, the ship now completely out of control. A sharp veer towards the left sends porky headed straight for a battle ship. He moans in agony and covers his face, preparing for the impact. But, with a good dose of cartoon logic, the boat takes a sharp turn downward, plummeting into the lake, under the boat, and rocketing back towards the surface again. Speed is very strong and tactile, and could very much be likened to Tex Avery’s knack for speed.

Unfortunately, Porky’s relief is only temporary. Though he narrowly avoids crashing into the ship, his boat is once more hurtling towards the ship. This time, he doesn’t dodge it—he flies straight through, cutting up a dining table (the next Porky cartoon, fittingly enough, is Shanghaied Shipmates, one scene in particular staged very similarly to this one) and zooming out through the other end of the boat. The ship sinks in the distance while Porky continues his wild goose chase of a ride.

The animation and speed combine to make a very exhilarating experience. The drawings are three dimensional and almost make for a sense of motion sickness as he zooms across the screen. Though this cartoon is a strange one, it’s certainly ambitious and takes many risks, and King deserves credit for that alone.

After whirling around like a torpedo, Porky finally realizes that maybe, just maybe, he should reach for the brake. He feels around aimlessly with his foot and finally stomps on the pedal, and the boat spins around in a flurry of activity to a halt at last. Dazed from the impact, Porky slumps over the boat to recover from his vertigo. In the process, he accidentally swallows a fish and snaps awake, spitting it out. He feels his face and collects himself, making sure he’s truly in the clear.

And, just like that, Porky reaches for his fishing rod and finally sets out what he intended to do in the first place: fish. Already he nabs a big bite, and prepares to reel in for the long haul. Instead, he reels in a mounted fish head. Clearly displeased, Porky frustratedly tosses his catch back in the water. Next time, he reels in a REAL catch. To deposit his win, he stretches a bucket out like a long tube and places the fish inside, the bucket returning to its natural state. The gag would have been funnier if it were more apparent, but it’s handled a little too nonchalantly and thusly reads as more incoherent and arbitrary instead of funny.

Already, Porky grows tired of fishing, literally. Fashioning some rope as a makeshift pillow, Porky lies down and settles in for a nap. We pan down to the waters below, and spot a quite frankly terrifying fish who’s ready to do some fishing of his own. He opens a picnic basket and rifles through, attempting to find suitable bait: a donut will do. He stuffs the donut inside a rifle and shoots, the donut attached to a string. Very similar to the rifle/fishing rod/grappling hook invention featured in Gold Diggers of ‘49.

In an almost identical manner to the terminally boring Old Glory 3 years later, Porky’s “dream self” rises from his real self and takes the bait. I think this is a big downfall of the cartoon—spoiling the surprise halfway through. If you’re going to go the surreal route, stick with it and don’t spoil the audience that he’s already having a dream. Wait until the end for him to wake up for real to imply that it was already a dream instead of explicitly stating “This is a dream, folks!” Keep your audience on your toes by tricking them into thinking it’s real. But I digress. The fish reels in his catch, sending Porky hurtling down into the water and scooping him up in a net, removing the donut from Porky’s snout where it had been clamped down.

The fish carries Porky by the feet and waddles along to his humble abode. He signals that he’s home (by making a really strange noise—the only way I can describe it is that it sounds like an abbreviated version of Porky’s ostrich from Porky’s Pet), and two of his children excitedly run out to greet him. Yet first, they swim inside merrily to their mother, exclaiming in incomprehensible chatter that their father is home with a big catch. The entire family crowds around Porky  one of the fish children poking him and giggling. Like a real fish, Porky jitters around, and it’s enough to scare the children. They run inside the house and dive inside the laundry hamper, both of their heads covered by a bra. 

Here’s where things get delightfully (or not) strange. The fish takes his catch inside and “skins” him, cutting off Porky’s sweater. He places the naked, writhing pig inside an aluminum pan, dressing him up so he makes the perfect pig roast. Thanks to a hearty helping of pepper being doused on him, Porky sneezes and propels himself across the counter, the fish responding “Gesundheit!” and positioning him back in the pan. He garnishes his potential meal and slaps another pan on top to cover him, and places him in the oven.

Thus sparks the infamous, disturbing, uncomfortable and quite frankly hilarious scene of Porky roasting alive in the oven, coughing and sputtering (and stuttering) “LEMME OUTTA HERE!” Porky manages to buck the lid off of him, pushing the oven door open and making a break for it.

It seems that even nature is against Porky as he traverses the unknown waters—an eel threatens to tie him up and restrain him, chasing him around. Porky manages to sock the eel in the face, with enough force that the eel ties itself up in a knot. Of course, the eel unravels itself and chases Porky with more determination than ever.

The chase leads to a sleeping fish (perhaps the same one from before, I had always been under that impression but now rewatching it I don’t think it is), Porky and the eel swimming into its mouth. The fish blows the eel out of its mouth like a party streamer, now awake, both the eel and Porky swimming back out of its mouth. The fish only looks on in bewilderment. Elsewhere, a swordfish threatens to slice Porky in two. Thankfully, it gets its nose lodged in a spare wooden beam. Porky uses this opportunity to grab a mallet and hammer the swordfish’s nose in, bending the point.

While attempting to make his escape, Porky comes across a particularly angry octopus, who captures him in its tentacles. Some nice, stretchy animation as the octopus spanks Porky, who is slingshotted into the distance and flies back into frame thanks to the octopus’ iron grip. Now, the octopus attempts to do what the eel couldn’t: strangle him. 

As Porky fights for his life, we fade back into reality, where Porky is, for reasons unknown, naked, and coiled in his rope. He wakes up and collects himself, wrangling himself out of the rope. Determined to never see a fish ever again, Porky throws all of the fish he caught out of the boat (even though we ever see him catch just one fish.) Iris out as a terrified, naked pig zooms into the horizon in his motorboat.

I’m actually glad I rewatched this one, because I’ve definitely re-evaluated my stance on it. I still don’t like it that much, it’s not very funny and more uncomfortable than anything, but at the same time it’s unconventional and has some great bursts of animation. Jack King was certainly experimental, but his experiments rarely ever worked out in his favor. I’ve never classified his cartoons as funny, especially in comparison to Tex Avery, Friz Freleng, and later Frank Tashlin (who’ll be coming into the picture soon.) He DOES have at least some sort of eye for cinematography, playing around with camera angles and close ups, which I admire. This cartoon was strange and was meant to be strange, so I appreciate that he took a different route. It’s still overwhelmingly off putting, but it’s not as terrible as I had thought it was before. There’s some great animation, especially the beginning half of Porky’s wild boat ride. The cartoon was meant to be disconcerting, and it more than succeeded. I don’t think I’ll be watching this again soon, I still don’t particularly LIKE it but I can appreciate it more. Because of that, I’m ambiguous on the recommendation. It’s just so strange that it could constitute a watch, but if you’re looking for something funny and/or charming, this isn’t your best bet. But, with that, 

Link!

128. Westward Whoa (1936)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, this is one of those cartoons that requires a disclaimer. This review you’re about to see entails racist stereotypes, concepts, and imagery. I do not at all support or condone these ideas in any way, shape, or form—they’re gross and wrong. It would, however, be just as gross of me to skip over them. This review is for the intent of educating and informing, and I don’t at all intend to harm or offend anyone. I ask and thank you for your cooperation and understanding.

Release date: April 25th, 1936

Series: Looney Tunes

Director: Jack King

Starring: Berneice Hansell (Kitty), Tommy Bond (Beans, Ham), Joe Dougherty (Porky)

Hard to believe it’s time already, but this is the last major appearance of Beans and Kitty. Both make cameo appearances in Plane Dippy, Ham or Ex pop in for Porky's Pet, and the bespectacled unnamed dog with an overbite who occasionally makes appearances reappears in Shanghaied Shipmates, but now the cartoons begin to shift focus towards Porky. Beans' last hurray isn’t the most savory of cartoons—out west, Ham and Ex cry wolf, pretending to be Native Americans and crying for help, but, of course, actual Natives show up and no one believes their pleas for help.

Open to a wagon train traversing the old west. Beans and kitty are included in the band of pioneers, singing “Covered Wagon Days”, vocals contributed by their cattle, some other pioneers, etc. Even Porky’s shown playing a flute solo. Another gag includes a man riding his mule, essentially walking on top of it—he walks on ahead with his beer bottle, leaving the donkey behind. 

I’ve said it before, but I find it so interesting that jack king included songs in his cartoons. Freleng and Avery have mentioned how the Merrie Melodies format was nothing but a burden to their cartoons, having to work around the story to arbitrarily include a song in, yet King seemed to make it a point to include a song when he didn’t have to.

The gang settle in (Kitty excitedly babbles on about how nice the spot they chose would be, with a lovely lake, big rock, trees, etc., etc.) quite comfortably. Fade out back in to some pioneers square dancing to “Oh, Susanna!”, a crowd clapping and cheering them on.

Beans is enjoying himself, dancing along to the music. Ham and Ex run up to him and excitedly declare in unison “We’re gonna play Indians!”, to which Beans playfully warns “Be careful the Indians don’t getcha!” Yes, it's one of those shorts, which would unfortunately persist for decades to come. 

Ham and Ex giggle and hobble away, but almost immediately halt in their tracks. Behind a rock appears to be a Native headdress that’s moving. Ham and Ex exchange worried glances and eventually creep up to the source... only to find that it’s just a turkey pecking at the ground. This, of course, gives (who I presume to be) Ham an idea as he whispers into Ex’s ear.

Their idea? Running around yelling “Indians! Help!” Beans drops his stack of wood he’s carrying and reaches for his rifle, echoing their warning. All of the pioneers are alerted and resort to gunfire. A dog in a pond shoots his rifle, skipping around like a rock in water. Another dog hops into a wood stove and fires from there.

Beans darts over to the rock where the turkey (unbeknownst to him) is pecking at the ground. Beans fires, and does a Jack King hat take when he realizes he shot the fan off of a turkey instead. Ham and Ex find it just absolutely hilarious, doubling over in a fit of laughter. Beans is pissed and approaches them, warning Ex that a Native will someday get them and (he pretends to cut his neck) “Krrrrrrk! Off goes your head!” He retreats, done with his lecture, when he suddenly whips around and snaps “and you too!” at Ham. Finally some nice comedic timing and a clever joke, but a shame it has to be wasted on something so racist and tiresome.

If Ham and Ex were rattled by Beans’ lecture, they do little to express it. In fact, Ex whispers in Ham’s ear, both smiling with mischievous pride. Ex thusly launches into a war call, followed by Ham, and predictably Beans is fooled again. He grabs his gun and starts running around in a flurry once more, his pioneer buddies also shooting aimlessly. Ham and Ex are now, for some reason, in the same spot where Beans was prior (it never showed them running around). Suddenly, Ham taps Ex on the back, who’s in a fit of hysterics. They both dart off screen as a frustrated and befuddled beans approaches, scratching his head.

As if things couldn't get more reprehensible, we get a double whammy by having the Natives caricatured in blackface.

Now, Ham and Ex seek refuge behind a log, laughing and continuing their war cry. But get this—an actual grotesquely caricatured Native pops out from behind a tree! Who would’ve thunk it? Ham and Ex run away, and once more does their routine of crying for help ensue, yet this time they actually mean it. The two pups hide inside the log, the Native diving in after them. The twins make it out of the other end as the Native gets stuck, and they both beat his head and butt with clubs respectively.

The twins cry once more, and, just as the classic story goes, no one believes them. Beans runs his laundry through a wringer while Kitty proposes he go check on the kids—“Never can tell what they’re up to!”. Elsewhere, Porky peels potatoes and shrugs off the cries for helps. He talks to the audience and stutters “It’s just those kids trying to fool you again.” 

Back to Ham and Ex. Ham beats the Native on the butt, and he’s propelled out of his log and hurdles straight towards a tree. As the twins attempt to escape, they encounter more Natives, who attempt to dog pile on them. They narrowly escape, and this time run around in helpless circles near Porky, who’s still (captivating as ever) peeling potatoes, merely smiling and shrugging. They both dive into a trunk at the base for safety. Porky comments “Those kids must think we’re pretty dumb.” He laughs, but his laughter is quickly cut short once an arrow flies right through his beloved potato and splits it in two.

Now Porky attempts to make a break for it, running around aimlessly and tripping over a spare rifle in the foreground (I will admit that the shot is rather nicely staged.) Suddenly, a ton of Natives pour into their base, all doing a war cry. Porky struggles to get his warning out, but he has no trouble shouting “INDIANS!” after an arrow zings him right in the butt.

Directors had lamented about working with Joe Dougherty’s natural stutter, because they couldn’t play around with his dialogue as much. Mel Blanc’s Porky, as you know, would typically change his sentence structure in the midst of a stutter. (For example, in Porky and Egypt, Porky laments “It’s awful war-wa-w-h-ho-h—gosh, I’m roasting!”) That sentence structure was made famous by vaudevillian Roscoe Ates, who overcame a natural childhood stutter. Part of his shtick would be to substitute his own words to make them come out easier. They wanted to take that direction with Porky since the Dougherty days, but couldn’t because of his natural stutter. Tex Avery has lamented about how much film was wasted during recording sessions with Dougherty. So, to substitute, they’d play around with gags like these to get him to hurry up, whether it be whistling at him or, in this case, shooting him with an arrow. It's interesting to see them play around with his stutter as much as they could, despite their limitations.

There’s a really strange cut that contributes to the cartoon’s incoherency—Beans is chased by a Native brandishing a tomahawk while Kitty cowers. Beans is pinned beneath the crank of the wringer, and Kitty tugs at the clothes in the wringer, which causes the handle to repeatedly smack the Native in the chin. It’s very subtle, but you see Beans leap off of the wringer. A jump cut and Beans is perfectly in position near a wood stove, shooting his pistols. The transition is nonexistent, almost no indication to show that he was in peril 4 seconds earlier. 

An arrow pierces beans’ coonskin hat, a Native firing a number of arrows at him. Beans hatches an idea and opens the door to the wood stove. The arrows fly into the stove and shoot right out of the pipe back at the perpetrator like a boomerang, pinning him against a tree. Elsewhere, a Native attempts to slice a dog with his tomahawk. The dog takes off a toupee and hands it to the Native (a reference to the practice of scalping). 

Gags ensue as the fight rages on. A Native curves an arrow to shoot like a curveball, but it hits him in the but as the pioneer ducks. Beans prepares to hit a Native over the head with a club, but instead hits another BEHIND him as he anticipates to go into the swing, eventually hitting them both. Porky’s shooting his rifles, when an arrow pierced his suspenders. Porky struggles to get his pants to stay up, occasionally flashing the audience as he continually hikes them up. Another arrow shoots by and lodges in both his pants and shirt, effectively pinning the pants securely. I will give credit where credit is due, that’s a gag that actually feels somewhat funny.

Meanwhile, Ham and Ex dive into some dresser drawers, popping out at the top of the dresser and hitting a Native over the head with hair brushes. They continue to hit and mock him, like a makeshift game of whack a mole. The Native cuts the dresser in half with his tomahawk, reaching into both halves and grabbing the kids, who cry for help. Beans discovers a bear trap, and circles it like a lasso, throwing it right at the Native . It hits—where else?—right in the butt, and he retreats, the kids watching him go. Unbeknownst to them, Beans is creeping up slowly from behind. He does a war chant to give them a taste of their own medicine, and, of course, the pups are scared out of their wits. We iris out on their little eyes peering out of the trunk they used as a hideout.

To say the least, I hate this cartoon. This is my least favorite Jack King cartoon to date, and least favorite Beans cartoon. It’s a shame, I actually liked Beans and I wish he had a more ceremonious goodbye. As you can obviously see for yourself, the cartoon is downright racist, mean spirited, and ugly. Of course, practically all of the Native cartoons are racist, but this one in particular feels exceptionally mean spirited and grotesque. And aside from all that, it’s an obnoxious, repetitive cartoon. Porky peels potatoes! Beans gets mad! People shoot guns! Ham and Ex yell! As high energy as it is, there’s nothing very exciting about it. 

As for Beans, it’s been... something! I feel he has flavor than Buddy, but still fell victim to the bland, smiley protagonist. Out of all 3 beginner stars, Bosko, Buddy, and Beans, Bosko was the most fleshed out and fun to watch. I certainly took him for granted when watching his cartoons (because I couldn’t shake the notion that “This is a blackface caricature”)—he was very bouncy and a musical character, and he was almost captivating to watch. Buddy and Beans you don’t get that musicality. So, better than Buddy, not as good as Bosko. I’ll still miss him, but Porky’s time to shine is finally here, and things are going to get rolling! 

I don’t at all recommend this cartoon, but if you’re that curious I’ll put a link. Obviously view at your own discretion.