Thursday, 29 October 2015

Review: Toy Story of Terror (2013)

 
In a sense, it breaks my heart that Toy Story has become Pixar’s most substantial franchise. It started as something so humble and unique, and it’s fast becoming Pixar’s go-to for a brand rehash – a pull-string goat readily primed for milking. That said, unlike Dreamworks’ Shrek franchise, the Toy Story series bears endless scope for such milking, with infinite potential for new character designs, storylines, and, needless to say, merchandising. Of course, the latter is a subject which comprises the predominant undercurrent to the most visceral of criticisms of Pixar’s latter-day output (I’m looking at you, Cars), but as of yet the feature-length Toy Story canon has been altogether impressive, regardless of its appeal to the plush market. 2013 saw the airing of Pixar’s very first half-hour (with commercials) television special, the horror flick-inspired Toy Story of Terror, whose release appropriately coincided with Halloween. Does the special hold up against the series’ previous entries?

The special opens in the boot of Bonnie’s mom’s car, where the toys are anxiously watching a classic black-and-white horror film. Before long, they wind up at a roadside motel, where the toys are seemingly picked off one by one by a mysterious creature lurking in the shadows. In an unforeseen turn of events, Jessie is forced to combat her fear of the dark and – of course – ‘the box’. With the help of Combat Carl, Jessie must face her fears and find her friends before it’s too late.

Part of what makes the Toy Story franchise so successful is its attention to detail, and such detail is not absent from this particular offering. The film’s focus on Jessie’s claustrophobic struggles in ‘the box’ resonate from 1999’s Toy Story 2, which sees Jessie unable to handle being in storage – a clever, if somewhat rehashed, call-back. Story-wise, there is nothing here that would offend the most hard-core fans of the films, and its plot, for its 20-minute-or-so running time, is surprisingly advanced; there isn’t a dull moment. Above all, the special manages to keep the viewer in suspense throughout, in addition to providing further character development for Jessie. In fact, this is probably what I would deem to be the special’s saving grace. The pacing is altogether rather rushed, but its reliance on Jessie’s backstory enables the propulsion of a solid and gripping narrative – something the subsequent special Toy Story That Time Forgot (2014) sadly lacks, simply because we know little about its protagonist (Trixie), nor are we given any reason to care about her. That’s why this special works so well.

In all, it’s a solid offering from Pixar, by television standards at least. Ultimately, it could never compare to the feature-length offerings, but it’s an impressive effort nonetheless. Though there are notable similarities to the storylines of previous entries, Toy Story of Terror manages to deliver a compelling and scary(ish) story. By Pixar standards, it’s a decent offering, but by television standards, it’s scarily good.
Images Obtained From:
Toy Story of Terror. [DVD] (2014) Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment, Burbank, California.

Monday, 19 October 2015

Review: Tim Burton’s ‘Corpse Bride’ (2005)

Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride (2005) is a film that needs no introduction. By this, I mean it adheres to the standard, repetitious criteria that has since become something of a safe retreat for the average Burton flick. This is as much a bad thing as it is good, as such recurrent motifs have not only become synonymous with Burton’s directorial work, but they have also come to mark a notable stagnation in the creativity of his output. Visually, Burton has seldom floundered, but contemporary cinema has become so accustomed to his darkly enchanting visual prowess, that a solid and compelling narrative is now sought after more so than ever – and sadly, his latest efforts just don’t cut it, with Dark Shadows (2012) arguably marking his absolute nadir. Fortunately, Corpse Bride’s release just about preceded this irrefutable slump. While it would be unfair to juxtapose it alongside its fellow stop-motion sibling The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), it’s instantly evident that it’s not as strong an offering. In any case, it’s a sublime effort. In fact, there’s never been a (mostly) monochromatic flick more colourful.

Distributed by Warner Bros, Burton’s forgotten masterpiece follows Victor Van Dort (voiced by Johnny Depp, obviously), a Victorian groom-to-be, whose arranged marriage to Victoria Everglot (Emily Watson) sends his anxiety skyrocketing. Consequently, their ceremony, overseen by the uncompromising Pastor Galswells (Christopher Lee – again, obviously), is a shambles, forcing Victor to flee to the forest. There, he practises his vows, placing his ring upon what appears to be an uprooted branch. As it turns out, he in fact places the ring on the finger of a murdered bride – Emily (yes, you guessed it – Helena Bonham Carter) – who whisks him away to the Land of the Dead. Victor, horrified, tries desperately to return to the surface. In the meantime we learn more about Emily and her background, ultimately leading to a satisfying, if unsurprising, reveal at the film’s culmination.

Though the twists and turns, to some, might be perceived as somewhat predictable, the story is well-paced and its characters exceedingly well developed. As much as I’ve often voicelessly chided Burton for his repeated use of the same actors over and over, Depp and Bonham Carter shine resplendently in their roles, as does pretty much the rest of the cast. Danny Elfman’s (who knew?!) music, too, though not quite as catchy and memorable as in The Nightmare Before Christmas, is nonetheless charming in its own right, not to mention uplifting – something of an ironic culmination considering the film’s rather macabre themes.

One thing people forget about this film is that it’s actually a fairly important one in terms of Tim Burton’s filmic chronology, as it marks the first animated feature he directed. And, as a major presence in the Burton canon, it certainly does not disappoint. That said, it’s not completely flawless, though its faults are, for the most part, entirely subjective. Emily’s maggot – who lives in her eye – is a highly unoriginal parody of Peter Lorre, and an unfunny one at that; he simply comes across as annoying. Let’s face it, the Looney Tunes were making that joke way back in the ‘40s. Furthermore, Emily’s backstory isn’t given much screen time despite a fun-but-forgettable music number, which is a shame particularly since it demotes her from potentially maintaining the film’s most interesting character.

Ultimately, however, the pros far outweigh the cons. The intricate detail in the models and quirky character designs is worthy enough of at least a three-star rating. Parenthetically, it’s interesting to note that this film does not utilise the same replacement animation technique as The Nightmare Before Christmas, but instead sees the use of malleable rubber puppets – an easier but no less effective alternative. In fact, the animation is so slick and smooth that it poses a charmingly subdued, nonconformist and eccentric opposition to the CG sea its decade-old release found itself to be unforgivingly engulfed by. Some might argue that it’s a little ‘Burton-by-the-numbers’, but creativity abounds, especially when it comes to the visuals. The story is solid, if a little thin, and its characters are deeply engrossing. Indeed, the 2005 release of Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride marked a tremendous feat which saw traditional techniques rise from the dead, effectively and in style.
 
 
Images Obtained From:
Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. [DVD] (2005) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.


Thursday, 15 October 2015

Review: Tim Burton’s ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ (1993)


Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) has, in time, made a name for itself as both the quintessential Halloween flick and a gloriously lugubrious antithesis to the traditional Christmas holiday schlock. Conceived and produced by Tim Burton – the oft-regarded leading light of darkness, so to speak – this stop-motion spook-tacular is also regularly, if erroneously, cited as one of Burton’s filmic masterpieces, despite the fact that he neither directed it, nor was he in charge of the feature’s artistic direction. The film was, in fact, directed by Henry Selick, though Burton’s name is the one you remember, whether or not you’re aware of these particulars. In any case, over the last twenty years or so, it has become widely acknowledged as ‘textbook Burton’, having garnered worldwide acclaim and a substantial increase in popularity – so much so in fact that it has amassed something of a cult following, inspiring a vast array of trinkets, dolls, costumes and other miscellaneous merchandising, popular amongst those who identify with its ‘alternative’ approach to the holiday season – a market to whom its appeal is unquestionably indomitable; there’s simply no other film like it.

Although distributed under Disney’s subsidiary label Touchstone Pictures, The Nightmare Before Christmas is nothing like any Disney flick you’ve ever seen. The film follows Jack Skellington (voiced by Chris Sarandon), the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, who, in his increasing dissatisfaction with his annual by-the-numbers Halloween routine, wanders off into the Hinterlands. While there, he stumbles upon the other Holiday Doors, leading him to discover the wondrous spectacle that is Christmas Town. Upon discovering this unfamiliar, joyous terrain, Jack becomes obsessed and ultimately decides to kidnap ‘Sandy Claws’ (Santa Claus), the Christmas Holiday Leader, and take over the holiday. But things soon take a turn for the worse when Lock, Shock and Barrel, three mischievous kids assigned the task of kidnapping Santa, instead take the holiday leader to Oogie Boogie, an evil bogeyman who proceeds to torture him.

So what exactly is this film’s appeal? What was it that made this film so great that, to this day, it continues to delight with its delectably dark-yet-delightful subtext? Well, to begin with, the visuals are beyond captivating. While he didn’t have full creative control over the film’s visual development, the locations, buildings and character designs are all so wonderfully Burton-esque, adorned with crooked constructs and shrivelled spirals, complemented by a perpetually monochrome palette. It really is a beautiful thing to see; with so much attention to detail, the visuals alone render the stop-motion musical masterpiece a work of art. The models’ intricacy is a wondrous thing to behold, particularly considering the usage of the increasingly obsolescent replacement animation technique, reminiscent of the likes of George Pal, only executed to greater effect with a wider range of expressions. Equally enchanting is the music, composed by Danny Elfman, who also performs as Jack’s singing voice. While Elfman’s vocals, for me personally, do little to enhance the musical renditions, the score is hauntingly atmospheric, and the songs undeniably catchy – you’ll be singing them in your head for weeks, undoubtedly. The film is indeed extraordinary – from its setting and designs to its quirky characters and soundtrack – but the most extraordinary thing about it is just how such a dark and gloomy narrative can maintain such ironically heart-warming undertones.

I say heart-warming, although as a precautionary measure, I wouldn’t recommend this film to too young an audience. Generally speaking, its appeal is universal, although I must admit that I distinctly remember becoming incredibly stressed out by the torture of Santa Claus when I first saw it as a toddler, and it’s only in more recent years I’ve grown appreciative of its profound uniqueness in terms of plot and artistic appeal. Regardless, this Halloween-Holiday classic is an essential and iconic piece of film history, one whose visual marketability has even inspired its own brand of fashion, fit for a new generation of followers that has only in recent years begun to emerge. Ultimately, Burton’s Nightmare proves to be anything but; a highly recommended Halloween hit.
Image Sources:
Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas: Special Edition. [DVD] (2001) Touchstone Home Video, Burbank California.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

Looney Tunes Games (3) – Looney Tunes Racing (PS, 2000)


This is probably one of the most underrated PlayStation One games I ever played. Sure, it was essentially a rip-off of Crash Team Racing but its controls were slick and the animations smooth – and what’s more, it had that added appeal of a vast array of playable Tunes characters, ranging from the excessively popular, such as Bugs Bunny, to the downright obscure, such as the Evil Scientist from Water, Water Every Hare (1952).


It’s difficult to condense all of the game’s references into a single blogpost. They’re prolific, and range in subtlety. ‘Gossamer’s Castle’ and ‘Dungeon Disasters’ contain allusions to Hair-Raising Hare (1946) and Water, Water Every Hare, while the ‘Wascally Woods’ and ‘Forest Frolics’ tracks contain homages to the ever-understated Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog shorts. Other references include, but are not limited to, Duck Dodgers in the 24½th Century (1952), Rocket Squad (1956), The Hasty Hare (1952), the Roadrunner shorts, Ali Baba Bunny (1957), Little Beau Pepé (1952), Hare-Way to the Stars (1958), Robin Hood Daffy (1958), Beanstalk Bunny (1955), and a couple of tracks based entirely around the Chuck Jones masterpiece What’s Opera, Doc? (1957).

This may seem impressive (and it is), but what’s more impressive is the cast of characters at the player’s disposal, and their quotes. The game begins with six characters – Bugs, Daffy, Marvin the Martian, Lola Bunny, Taz and Wile E Coyote. But once the player starts to unlock bonus characters, a huge cast of characters become playable – from Foghorn Leghorn to Sylvester the Cat. To begin with, the voice acting is on point, but even better is their many, many allusions to their character’s cartoons, of which there are too many to record down here. Some quotes are taken directly from the most obscure episodes that even the most hard-core Tunes fan would struggle to recount. For example, some of Porky’s quotes come from Duck Dodgers… (1952) and Porky Chops (1949), while some of Sylvester’s are taken from A Street Cat Named Sylvester (1953) and Cats and Bruises (1965).

Aside from the many references to classic, Golden Age cartoons, even more obscurely the character Smokey the Genie (from A-Lad-In His Lamp (1948)) features as the race officiate, and later becomes a playable character. Precisely why they decided on such an obscure one-shot character to act as host is unknown, and frankly rather odd, but it’s all the same rather nice to see the resurrection of a long-dormant, forgotten Looney Tunes character, even if he wasn’t exactly sorely missed.

Perhaps most importantly, the gameplay is solid too. The Wacky Races PlayStation One game released the same year had an equal amount of research go into its presentation in terms of appealing to fans of the series, but lacked the smooth, compelling gameplay to render it a ‘good’ game. This game, while pertaining primarily to fans of the ‘40s and ‘50s shorts specifically, provides, in equal balance, a sophisticated and appealing game with enough classic cartoon references to appeal to the most substantial of Looney Tunes fans. Indeed, as expected, Looney Tunes Racing is fun, but also surprisingly detailed, consequently rendering it a wholesome, if unoriginal, experience.
 
Image Source:
Looney Tunes Racing. [VG] (PS, 2000) Infogrames, Circus Freak.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Looney Tunes Games (2) – Bugs Bunny and Taz: Time Busters (PS, 2000)


2017 UPDATE!
Watch my new review of the game here:

The sequel to the PlayStation classic Bugs Bunny Lost in Time (discussed here) attempted to improve upon what had already become a repetitious formula. Rather than collecting clocks and golden carrots, in Bugs Bunny and Taz: Time Busters (2000), the eponymous protagonists team up to collect gears and, ultimately, a ‘time gem’. The time machine itself belongs to Granny (June Foray). After exterminator Daffy Duck (Joe Alaskey) makes off with the time gem, it’s up to Bugs Bunny (Billy West) and Granny’s pet ‘Taz’manian Devil (Jim Cummings) to restore order, travelling to various eras to stop that duck, collecting the gears to fix the time machine as they go on. As with the first game, there are numerous references to classic Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies episodes. However, they are a little more subtle in that they act more as an homage to the classic series, rather than being directly adapted.

Granwich:
The central/training area/level select sees Tweety and Granny show you the ropes – which happen to be much of the same ropes you were shown in the previous game, with some changes. Very little is referenced here besides Taz’s first appearance, which is clearly a reference to his earliest appearances, namely Devil May Hare (1954). Hubie or Bertie makes a cameo at the beginning, as does Hector the Bulldog (although his colouring looks more like Spike, of Spike and Chester).

The Aztec Era:

Knighty Knight Bugs (1958)
This era’s antagonist is once again Yosemite Sam – only this time in the form of (surprise) an Aztec. Unlike previous eras, this one doesn’t appear to be based on any particular cartoon, besides the vast array of Sam/Bugs cartoons, which is a disappointment. ‘Baboon Realm’ does, however, feature an obscure allusion to the Gas-House Gorillas from Baseball Bugs (1946), as well as Gruesome Gorilla from Gorilla My Dreams (1948) and Hurdy-Gurdy Hare (1950) as the main boss for that level. ‘The Sacred Ride’ also sees Bugs and Taz ride a green dragon similar to the one seen in Knighty Knight Bugs (1958).

The Viking Era:
The setting and character of ‘Elmer Fuddensen’, the main antagonist, is based primarily on Chuck Jones’ What’s Opera, Doc? (1957). They have, however, taken some liberties with the source material: rather than his bearing a magic helmet, he instead has a magic hammer. The level ‘Moon Valley’ also features Gas-House Gorilla from Baseball Bugs as its boss. Hubie or Bertie also makes a cameo in ‘Saving the Druid’. The elephant in this level was also seen in Prince Violent (1961), and the Shore Village central area looks somewhat like the village in this cartoon.



What's Opera, Doc? (1957)

The Arabian Era:

The main antagonist is Babba Chop, who is clearly an incarnation of Hassan Chop from Ali Baba Bunny (1957), though why they changed his name and gave him a beard is unknown. The genies that need to be rescued also look identical to the one seen in that cartoon, while another character seen in the ‘Magic Carpet Ride’ is Caliph Hassan Pheffer from A-Lad-In His Lamp (1948). Backgrounds from this short also appear to have inspired the look of the era. The lions in the ‘Magic Carpet Ride’ and ‘Babba’s Cave’ bear a resemblance to the lions seen in Roman Legion-Hare (1955).




The Transylvanian Era:

Count Bloodcount serves as the main antagonist here – a reference to Transylvania 6-5000 (1963). The final boss and the bats seen around the central area are also inspired by this cartoon, while ‘Dr Jekyll’s Zoo’ is likely an homage to the often reused Jekyll/Hyde gag used in the likes of Hyde and Hare (1955) and Hyde and Go Tweet (1960), though there is no direct reference. Daffy also drinks a ‘hyde’ potion, similar to the aforementioned cartoons. In this era, Taz also learns how to float using bubblegum, an ability adapted from the gag seen in Devil May Hare after Bugs tricks him into eating a chicken made of liquid bubblegum and baking soda. The monsters in the central area are also based on one of the ‘Monstars’ from Space Jam (1996).
                                                         Transylvania 6-5000 (1963)
Overall, the game is decent. The gameplay showcases an improvement on the preceding game, but its co-op mode does little to enhance the player’s experience. Furthermore, the absence of a usable time machine in the game is a major drawback; it no longer feels as though the characters are lost in time, but merely journeying from place to place. The original game seemed to boast more variety, and by comparison this offering becomes stagnant fairly rapidly. The mini-games, too, become repetitive and often render the time travel aspect of the game completely pointless. Regardless, it’s not a wholly negative experience by any means – but there’s a clear lack of detail compared to its predecessor.

Looney Tunes Games (1) – Bugs Bunny Lost in Time (PS, 1999)


2017 Update: Check out my video review of this classic:

Let’s take a look back at some of the best Looney Tunes-themed games to ever grace the gaming universe. Today we look at an underrated classic: Bugs Bunny Lost in Time!
Bugs meets Merlin in Knight-Mare Hare (1955)

If there’s anything that truly excites the cartoon fanatic it’s references and lots of them – something PlayStation One classic Bugs Bunny Lost in Time is certainly not lacking. Released in 1999, the very first Looney Tunes game for the PS console saw Bugs Bunny travel through time, switching between different eras reminiscent of (or rather, directly adapted from) the shorts he starred in during the Golden Age. The game’s narrative arc is derived from Knight-Mare Hare (1955), a short which featured the appearance of a goofy-looking sorcerer named Merlin (of Munroe). In the game, Merlin, voiced by Jess Harnell, informs Bugs (Billy West) that in order to find his way back to the present, he must collect clocks to unlock and access various time periods. Each era contains a main antagonist – in the Stone Age, it’s Elmer Fudd (also Billy West); in the Medieval Period, it’s Witch Hazel (voiced by Looney Tunes veteran June Foray); the Pirate Years is governed by (Yosemite) Sam (Maurice LaMarche); the 1930s, Rocky and Mugsy (Joe Alaskey); and Dimension X is overseen by Marvin the Martian (Alaskey). While the gameplay is at times a little clunky and altogether rather simplistic to be overly engaging, the graphics, for its time, aren’t too shabby, and they don’t detract from the game’s overall appeal. A vast number of Tunes shorts are referenced in the game. To name a few:
The Stone Age derives most of its inspiration from the 1958 dud Pre-Hysterical Hare (including the basis for the entire era and Elmer’s caveman guise), in addition to the Rabbit/Duck Season Trilogy, namely Rabbit Fire (1951).
Robin Duck in the Medieval Period
The Medieval Period is inspired by a number of ‘Medieval’-themed shorts. Firstly, there are a number of references to Knighty Knight Bugs (1958), including the sneezing green dragon. Robin Duck appears as an antagonist, a direct reference to Robin Hood Daffy (1958). Also acknowledged is Rabbit Hood (1949), Bugs Bunny Gets the Boid (1942), and A Witch’s Tangled Hare (1959) as well as, possibly, the other Witch Hazel cartoons of the 1950s. Title cards of various shorts are also used for the loading screens.

Captain Hareblower (1954)
The Pirate Years is mostly inspired by Captain Hareblower (1954), particularly the level ‘When Sam Met Bunny’ (despite its loading screen having been extracted from the title card for the Speedy Gonzales cartoon Assault and Peppered (1965)). The same level also features gags that were seen in the Sam/Bugs cartoon Bunker Hill Bunny (1950). Blacque Jacque Shellacque, a wanted claim jumper first seen in Bonanza Bunny (1959), here appears as a recurrent pirate enemy. Since the era revolves around the feud between Pirate Sam and Bugs Bunny, it could also be argued that it derives inspiration from other shorts with similar nautical narratives, such as Mutiny on the Bunny (1950) and Buccaneer Bunny (1947), which inspired Captain Hareblower.


















The 1930s is inspired mostly by Rocky and Mugsy cartoons. The level ‘The Big Bank Withdrawal’ is particularly inspired by Bugs and Thugs (1954), and utilises the title card for the loading screen, while ‘The Greatest Escape’ utilises artwork and a setting not unlike Bugsy and Mugsy (1957) and, again, it uses the title card from that cartoon. The bonus level ‘La Corrida’ is adapted from the cartoon Bully for Bugs (1953), while the blue mouse seen in ‘The Carrot Factory’ bears a resemblance to Chuck Jones’ mouse duo Hubie and Bertie, first seen in The Aristo-Cat in (1943). The era loading screen is taken from the Rocky/Tweety/Sylvester short Catty Cornered (1953), and Shellacque returns as a gangster (oddly, with the same ‘arr!’ pirate laugh).

Hare-Way to the Stars (1958)
 Dimension X derives much of its inspiration from Hare-Way to the Stars (1958), including the setting and its layout, the opening clip to ‘The Planet X-File’, and the use of ‘instant martians’ as antagonists. ‘The Conquest for Planet X’ is inspired by Duck Dodgers in the 24½ Century (1952).

In all, this game is incredibly detailed – and the people who put it together really did their research. While reviews upon release might not have been exceptionally positive, it spawned an indirect sequel the following year, which leads us to discuss the next game…


Image Sources:

Bugs Bunny Lost in Time. [VG] (PS, 1999) Infogrames, Behaviour Interactive.

Looney Tunes Bumper Collection, Volume Three. [VHS] (1996) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

Looney Tunes Bumper Edition, Volume Six. [VHS] (1998) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

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

Stark Raving Looneys. [VHS] (1998) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

Friday, 2 October 2015

Bob Clampett: The Man Who Put the ‘Looney’ in ‘Looney Tunes’:


This year, we briefly looked at the cartoons of director Robert McKimson, whose films continue to be somewhat neglected in the present day, despite his having established some memorable characters. This time, we take a look at Bob Clampett, whose cartoons maintain their own unique brand of animation – one which put the ‘Looney’ in Looney Tunes.

Clampett’s style is characterised by its brash physical humour and unadulterated surrealism – a style that aptly coincided with a period in which screwball comedy was becoming all the more popular. Clampett could therefore potentially be seen as a supreme innovator in terms of the evolution of the animated short, in that his unabated and sometimes hypnagogic outlandishness marked a radical shift in style compared to previous shorts, characterising not only cartoons under his supervision, but also an entire era. Whether you’re a fan of his directorial work or not, one must surely appreciate his unique, brazen and unsubtle ‘physical’ approach to the cartoon.
Amongst his most memorable shorts is a strange little black-and-white cartoon – today regarded as a masterpiece of sorts – Porky in Wackyland (1938), a film whose bizarre plot and outrageous antics see stuttering stalwart Porky Pig travel to ‘Darkest Africa’ in search of the last of the do-dos – an allegedly endangered creature said to be worth a fortune. This is often cited as one of the most significant cartoons of his, perhaps because its direction is entirely uninhibited. The plot is thin, but its surreal, Wonderland-like setting and extremely imaginative eccentricity make it quintessentially ‘Clampett’. Indeed, it contains some of the most outrageous (and even creepiest) animated footage put to film. For example, upon Porky’s arrival, a grotesque-looking hairless monster appears, only to let out a muted, effeminate ‘boo’, before prancing delicately into the background. It’s funny, but at the same time, it’s the stuff of nightmares.
Porky in Wackyland (1938)
One scene of note is one in which the camera pans Wackyland, unashamedly displaying its wacky inhabitants. The sequence is somewhat difficult to recount, not because it’s in any way forgettable, but rather the opposite: it’s so unique that it’s hard to describe in any great detail without having to show pictures. So here they are:


















Wackyland was revisited in Clampett’s subsequent 1943 film Tin Pan Alley Cats, a jazz-infused part-recycled celebration of equally outlandish proportions. The cartoon has since been banned from distribution due to its rather upsetting and offensive portrayal of African American stereotypes. Though the place ‘Wackyland’ is not referred to by name, the main dream sequence of a cat modelled on musician Fats Waller is clearly derived and recycled from the aforementioned picture. See below:

 

 







Porky in Wackyland was remade, again using recycled animation, for Friz Freleng’s Dough for the Do-Do, released in 1949. The plot and much of the animation remains very much the same, only in colour. The very same pan of Wackyland is seen in this cartoon too:







 
 
 
 
The only justification for the reuse of this sequence is that Clampett’s exaggerated artistry is perfectly encapsulated in this scene, though his unique style of animation is not. For that, we need to take a look at some frames from other cartoons under his supervision. In The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (1946, below), Daffy’s movements appear completely natural – ‘human’, even – and yet the individual frames do not show a smooth progression. Often, characters would squash, stretch and contort far beyond their own limiting proportions, and still retain their regular form. This surreal style of animation helped to define the Warner Bros. cartoon, distinguishing it quite easily from your average Disney short.
 
Clampett is also majorly responsible for the delineation of popular character Porky Pig as we see him today, exchanging his fat, round body for a smaller build, with a larger head. This change came about in the mid-1930s, and essentially became his model for future appearances. Not only that, but Clampett is also significant in defining Daffy Duck’s character, having been responsible for his wacky ‘woohoos’ and hyperactive antics (first seen in Daffy’s debut Porky’s Duck Hunt (1937)) that came to be a repeated trait of his hyperactive character, prior to his drastic change to the greedy fall guy in the early 1950s by Chuck Jones. Bob Clampett left Warner Bros. in the mid-1940s, having had a substantial impact on the progression of the cartoon, in terms of animation style. His characters maintained very human traits, despite being hideously contorted beyond their limitations. Clampett’s exuberance was a prominent catalyst in aiding the rise of the Warner Bros. cartoon from a black-and-white cesspit of mediocrity; an underrated and ultimately overlooked component in Warner Bros’ Golden Age success.
 
Sources:
Beck, J. and Friedwald, W. (1989) Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies: A Complete Illustrated Guide to the Warner Bros. Cartoons. New York: Owl Books, Donald Hutter Books, Henry Holt and Company.

Looney Tunes Golden Collection, Volume One. [DVD] (2003) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.
Looney Tunes Golden Collection, Volume Two. [DVD] (2004) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.