The Lost Looney Tunes

Earlier this year, we paid tribute to Bugs Bunny – an animated film veteran whose role in the Warner Bros. animated shorts continues to delight young and old alike. The wascally wabbit starred in more than 160 Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies cartoons, most of which have been reissued and shown multiple times on network television. But amongst this batch of animated comedy gold is a handful of shorts censored and kept altogether rather hush-hush for the 21^st Century audience. The majority of censored cartoons from the Warner Bros. canon are from what most people would consider to be an era prior to the animation studio’s ‘Golden Age’ – the infamous ‘Censored Eleven’ comprised of cartoons between 1931 and 1944. But by the late ‘40s, a time when one would assume any allusion to racial prejudice would be eradicated, the issue of race was still very much apparent. Cartoons such as Mississippi Hare (1949) continued to showcase the brazen, outspoken lampooning of ethnic difference in the then-prevalent blackface gag – a visual ‘joke’ which sees an onscreen character caked in soot or burnt so that they represent an African American stereotype. Fortunately, very few of these gags were seen quite so late as in this short, though there remain a small number of censored Golden Age cartoons, one of the most severe being the seldom-spoken-of Which is Witch (1949), and one which provides an ample case study for this discussion.

Directed by Friz Freleng, Which is Witch sees Bugs Bunny encounter an African witch doctor, who threatens to boil him alive in his cauldron, being as he represents a key ingredient for his potion. The film is horrifyingly racist – to the point at which it seems surprising that it isn’t included as part of the famed Censored Eleven. While certain shorts, such as the aforementioned Mississippi Hare, are spotted with the occasional dated reference, this short is wholly dependent on racism for its gags, the most severe of which include Bugs’ disguising himself as a Zulu native, adding a spring to his neck and two large plates to his lips, all of which comprise a shameful and ignorant commentary on Third World civilisation. The conclusion, too, ends the cartoon on a rather sour note by derogatorily imposing First World customs on the African setting.

Notably, this is the last Bugs Bunny cartoon to contain African stereotypes, which probably suggests it became dated rather quickly. For the completist, its absence from home video releases is perhaps irritating, but at the same time understandable. It’s hardly Freleng’s finest work, and the jokes are so jarring that it’s more uncomfortable to watch than it is entertaining. But the issue here is where to draw the line. While some Golden Collection box sets contain disclaimers explaining that the cartoons enclosed are products of their time, a vast number of the more ‘severe’ cartoons have seldom seen a home video release. In a sense, this contradicts the disclaimer. Another issue is the weak definition of these cartoons’ ‘severity’ in terms of racist imagery and humour. Chuck Jones’ surreal, short-lived ‘Inki’ series (1939-1950), in which an African caveboy named Inki hunts the elusive Minah Bird, has not been seen on home video since the 1980s, despite the fact that the gags in these cartoons were not in any way derived from Inki’s appearance or race. Rather, the humour derived mostly from the absurdity of the situations, and the inexplicably almighty Minah Bird, who randomly appeared as a ‘deus ex machina’ figure in times of crisis. In any case, these characters are now doomed to obscurity – a sad fact justified by the likes of the aforementioned Bugs Bunny outing.

Since the Golden Collection and the redistribution of nearly 400 classic shorts, it has become apparent to me that there are a great deal of cartoons that will more than likely fade into obscurity for their portrayal of race and ethnic stereotypes. At the same time, however, by failing to acknowledge them, it could be argued that we are witnessing an elision of race, and a growing tendency to disregard that these images were ever produced. In any case, there’s no easy answer. It’s an uncomfortable area of discussion, and although the animation historian poses a mature and appropriate market for these shorts, there likely isn’t enough demand from adult audiences to warrant the release of these films. The vast majority will hardly be missed by casual viewers, but with cases such as Inki, there’s also a substantial amount of creativity and innovation that is being hesitantly held in limbo with an uncertainty as to whether or not they have a place in this age.

Mississippi Hare (1949)

Image obtained from:

Looney Tunes Golden Collection, Volume Four. (2006) Warner Home Video. Burbank, California.