I was recently informed by our website curator that the printing date for this article would be on Christmas Day, and was asked to take a week away from my ongoing series to come up with a one-shot of titles related to the holiday. Unlike many holidays, I have generally avoided a Christmas article – not because I am a Scrooge or a disbeliever. In fact, I am very fond and sentimental about the holiday. However, after years of following the posts of various contributors to this website, I have generally come to a conclusion paralleling the first spoken line from Foghorn Leghorn in “Walky Talky Hawky” – “Every year, it’s the same thing.” It seems infallible that someone trots out his own “personal favorites” list, or asks “what’s yours?” – and the same sort of titles always turn up. The kind that are guaranteed to leave you with a warm, fuzzy feeling – also, the kind to which Screwy Squirrel would probably react, “Oh, brudder. Not that!” Certainly, there is a place for tradition on Christmas. For many, this is virtually the only theme of the holiday. But the same small number of titles that seem to put a glow into everyone’s heart is only a small piece of the overall picture, when it comes to animation’s history concerning the Yuletide.
At least one creative blogger here has featured some articles spotlighting holiday specials that seem to be forgotten today, many of which still attempt to push all the right buttons to achieve sentiment but failed to achieve such goal for one reason or another. There are many others which deviated from the norm in taking storylines in unusual or unexpected directions not aimed at generating the typical holiday emotions, which again failed to withstand the test of time. For my part, I note that there is a sizeable body of animated work, many of which were not one-shot specials, which are not necessarily forgotten or of questionable quality or production values, but led down different roads than mainstream fare. These items never seem to receive discussion, nor come close to inclusion upon anyone’s top ten list. Several were written as nearly-obligatory Christmas installments of ongoing series – a field that must have been daunting for many a writing staff, leaving authors chomping at the bit to do something different – sometimes dark, sometimes satiric, but anything besides jingle bells and ho ho ho. Other curious items may reflect the writer’s reactions to over-established commercial traditions, drawing satiric humor through exaggeration – demonstrating that the seasonal world could be observed from a different point of view. Below, I attempt to spotlight a representative cross-section of work by competent and established animators of generally high-quality, which get passed over by the radar each year when scanning for Santa, due to their deviant directions, themes, or moods – messages that John Q. Public may have forgotten, or simply chose not to recall, during the hustle and bustle of the season.
Mickey’s Good Deed (Disney/United Artists, Mickey Mouse, 12/17/32 – Burt Gillett, dir.) – Mickey Mouse on a list of off-beat Christmas titles? Of all the Disney holiday specials, this one probably takes the cake for presenting the mouse in a role of questionable motives and conduct, inducing sacrifice not of himself, but of his own best friend. This Chaplinesque tale, set in the height of the Depression, finds Mickey and Pluto on a snowy Christmas Eve, out on the street, with Mickey attempting to earn a living by playing Christmas music on a large bass fiddle. This setup closely resembles Laurel and Hardy’s “Below Zero” from 1930, and rival Ub Iwerks’s Flip the Frog installment, “What a Life!”, which had premiered in March of the same year as this cartoon. (A note for original titles fans: original credits for this cartoon have been located at this link, depicting a special opening where the snow begins to fall in mid-shot, before the actual opening of the cartoon events themselves.) Unfortunately, the day’s cash receipts in Mickey’s tin cup amount to a few handfuls of discarded nuts and bolts.
Mickey tries a new location, outside the home of a wealthy pig. Inside, the master of the house and his butler are attempting to keep quiet Junior, a spoiled brat pig who isn’t satisfied with any of the many toys purchased for him, and wails constantly. The sounds of Pluto’s howls to Mickey’s music reach the child’s ears, and he runs to the window. “I want the dog”, he shouts to his father repeatedly. Reaching into his pocket for a large wad of cash, the master instructs the butler, “Buy him the dog.” The butler proceeds outside, and attempts to hail Mickey. Thinking the butler intends to chase him away, Mickey instinctively picks up his instrument, and races away with Pluto. The butler calls after him that he wants to pay handsomely for the dog. Mickey at first responds, “He’s not for sale. He’s my pal”, and outraces the butler, who slips in the snow, with money falling everywhere, and gives up the chase. Mickey, however, reaches a frozen ice pond, and also slips on the ice. The bass fiddle slides ahead of him, off of the pond ice, up a bank, and out upon a snow-covered city street – where the fiddle is immediaely trodden upon and run over by a passing horse-drawn sleigh full of happy children. With half of the destroyed fiddle dangling by its strings from the sleigh’s runners, the sleigh disappears down the street, with the children ironically shouting to Mickey, “Merry Christmas.”
Things can’t seem to get worse. But they do, as Mickey hears wailing from inside a nearby hovel. Within, an adult female cat weeps upon a table top. A picture on the wall depicts “Father” – apparently, Pete, pictured in prison stripes, locked away in jail. Further to the right sleep a bed full of kittens, living in abject poverty. A tear comes to Mickey’s eye. (Is this mere sympathy, or remorse in that, if “Father” is really Pete, Mickey himself likely caused the incarceration that resulted in the family’s poverty?) Mickey determines to do something to help the kittens out. But what to do with no money? Here’s where motives and morals become questionable. Sell Pluto to the wealthy pig, of course! Admittedly, Mickey thinks he giving Pluto to a good home. But is this any reason to split up their lifetime friendship and Pluto’s everlasting devotion to him, just to help others that may in fact be total strangers to Mickey? Yes, Mickey had no visible source of income to support Pluto. But things always turn around somewhere in a cartoon, so why not keep Pluto his companion until better times turn up? Anyway, Mickey commits the “deed”, selling off Pluto and buying presents for the kittens, pushing his best friend under the proverbial bus and into a life of cruelty and humiliation at the hands of the spoiled brat, who hits Pluto with mallets, sends a toy train racing after Pluto’s rear, ties toys and the Christmas turkey to his tail, and throws all the holiday pastries at everyone (including papa, who also gets speared in the rear by the tree-topper from the fallen Christmas tree).
Papa pig, surveying the general devastation wrought by Junior, picks up Pluto, handing him to the butler. “Throw him out”, he instructs. As Junior begins wailing again, Papa grabs the brat over one knee, yanks down Junior’s pants, and finally administers the spanking Junior deserves, as the butler, returned from disposing of Pluto, stands nodding in humble approval of Papa’s response. Pluto finally smiles and laughs to hear Junior’s pain, from the snowbank into which Pluto has been thrown outside, then turns to see if he can find Mickey, taking no notice of the fact he is still carrying the Christmas turkey tied to his tail. Beneath a sole Christmas star in the night shy, Mickey sits out in the snow beside a lonely campfire, finally having some feelings of regret at the loss of Pluto. He has gone so far as to build a snowman opposite him at the campfire, sculpted in rough approximation of the shape of Pluto. Pulling a wiener roasting on a stick from the fire, he attempts to weakly console his depressed feelings by offering a bite to the snow dog. Out of the effigy-dog’s head pops the real Pluto, creeping inside from under the snowbank on which the snow-dog is seated. “Pluto!”, shouts Mickey happily (in a single dropped-in line of dialogue which is definitely not voiced by Walt). Then Mickey spies the turkey tied to Pluto’s tail. Forget the wieners – cold turkey will do, as both he and Pluto dig in, and Mickey wishes Pluto a merry Christmas. Good thing Pluto’s a forgiving soul, as he probably would have been justified in keeping the turkey for himself, and bopping Mickey around a few times with a mallet to give Mickey a dose of his own medicine.
Previously discussed in a prior post, but impossible to overlook for this article, is Ted Eshbaugh’s The Snow Man (Ted Eshbaugh’s Fantasies, 8/25/33). Though produced over a decade before to popularity of Frosty the Snowman, this unusual, independently-produced cartoon could be called the “anti-Frosty”. Sprung on the public without warning as a mere “Fantasy”, and even later issued to the home movie market by Official Films in a family-friendly box design, this unnerving cartoon begins routinely for a 1930’s episode, with a young Eskimo boy cavorting with his arctic pals, and building a large snowman around which they dance. A stovepipe is used for the snowman’s hat rather than a battered top hat – perhaps this substitution accounts for the difference in the end result. Surprise! The snow man’s hand begins to tremble and flex. The facial features of the snow creature melt into the image of a raging, snarling beast, and he develops muscular skills to activate his arms and legs, becoming fully mobile. He lunges at the dancers around him, who scatter in all directions. Fish dive under the ice. Some animals pose one atop another as a totem pole, but are quickly found out by the beast. The snow monster begins tossing aside whole igloos in his pursuit of the animals. The boy, who is supposed to be our hero, at first appears to be a coward, leaping into his kayak out of harm’s way, and paddling furiously up an icy river rather than staying behind to save his pals. The beast manages to catch and swallow one of the fish, and also intrudes upon an arctic cathedral carved of ice, breaking up a prayer meeting, and also the church’s icy organ (at which the monster performs a self-composed solo before ripping out the keys, punctuated by an impersonation of Jimmy Durante’s “Hot-Cha-Cha”. (So we not only break with secular tradition of snowmen being jolly, but also step on the sanctity of religious services as well.)
He chases a flock of venison drinking by the riverside, uttering the over-acted line “Oh, dear, oh DEER”. Finally, he corners most of the cast at the edge of an ice floe, with nowhere to run. The boy, meanwhile, proves not to have been a coward after all, as he finally reaches his intended destination – a hidden weather-control headquarters. He enters a vaulted door, and a room containing a huge machine of meters, wheels, levers, and unknown fluids flowing through glass tubes. Pulling on a massive lever, he starts the mechanisms pumping and whirling. The beast has seized one of the animals in his hands, and is about to consume him, when the skies flash as if lit by lightning. The beast takes little notice as yet. Back at the weather station, the boy pulls the throttle wide open, putting the machinery into high gear. Suddenly, more flashes of double-intensity light the sky, followed by a dazzling display of the Northern Lights from the horizon, utilizing rows of rays of every color Eshbaugh can draw out of the Cinecolor process. With these pulsing rays also apparently comes heat, as the snow man winces under the effects of their onslaught, and goes through a series of emphatic gestures that seem a combination of begging for mercy and defiantly shaking his fist at the forces of nature as if to say, “Curse you.” Suddenly, all is lost for the monster, as he rapidly melts away before our eyes, leaving a wide puddle on the ice where he stood. The boy exits the weather station and rejoins the cast, who note that there is something in the puddle left by the monster. The fish which the beast had swallowed is alive and well from within him! The fish faces the camera, and replicates the evil laugh of the monster, as if to say, “So there”, as the camera irises out.
The 16mm home movie box.
Enter a scrawny cat, braving the cold outside the tree in desperate search for food. He spies the mice through a small window at the base of their tree trunk, and boldly knocks on the door in hopes of gaining entrance. However, the mice inside are not complete fools. They have a peephole installed in their front door, and a wooden bar across to brace it. Some of the small mice run to respond to the knock, thinking it’s Santa. But a few others appropriately climb up to view through the peephole before allowing anyone to enter. “It’s a cat”, they squeal. They pull a cord, activating a spring-loaded boxing glove on a telephone extender outside the door to let the cat take a blow in the face, then stick a broom out the peephole to further bop the cat on the head. Finally, a heap of snow falls from the tree limbs, burying the cat in a snowdrift. The mice laugh at foiling the cat’s plans, but Cheeser takes special glee at seeing that the other mice’s belief in Santa almost got them into trouble. “Santy Claus, eh? Ha ha ha!”, laughs Cheeser at them. The believing mice are again upset at Cheeser, and tell him, “You just wait, smarty. You’ll be sorry when Santy Claus really does come.” Outside, the cat overhears, and realizes who the mice had hoped was at the door. Racing into town, the cat invades a closed toy shop through a broken window pane, acquiring the makings of a Santa suit (with a large balloon inserted into the pants to attain the proper girth to fill the belt size), and a sack full of toys. A crowning touch is added, in the form of a large doll house, which the cat baits by inserting a large mousetrap just inside the doorway.
The cat Santa makes his re-arrival at the mouse house. Now seeing who they want through the peephole, the old lady mouse unbolts the door to let Santa in. Cheeser has to rub his eyes in disbelief, momentarily perplexed by this apparition, but suspicious all the same,. The cat looks around at all the kids in the room, viewing them in a mind’s-eye dream cloud as prospective meals on a sandwich, but is reminded by the kids of his duties to deliver the toys. He allows the kids to scramble into the toy sack, and take what they want, resulting in a stampede of mice in, and a parade of toy-laden mice out. Much merrymaking appears on screen, including a model railroad, jack-in-the-boxes, and even fencing equipment, allowing the kids to stage mock duels. But the doll house remains unclaimed. Cheeser is the only oe who has made no movement to enter the sack, and the cat chances offering the dollhouse to him. “A dollhouse? For me?”, laughs Cheeser defiantly, in a manner proclaiming, I’m a boy, stupid. The cat finally spies a girl among the kids, and picks up the doll house to pursue her, and hopefully coax her to accept the present. The girl is sitting right at the junction of crossed tracks of the toy train set, and the cat is surprised when the train comes up behind him and runs between his legs – pushing the balloon inside his outfit well out of place, and causing the rear of his pants to slip down. Cheeser spots it, and waits his chance for a closer look at Santa. Another train collision occurs, this time pushing the balloon from the belly all the way to Santa’s rear. “You ain’t Santy Claus” shouts Cheeser, but out of earshot from the other mice. The cat nervously replaces the balloon in position, and pats Cheeser gently on the head in hopes of keeping him quiet, as he backs toward the door in hopes of making a getaway. Regrettably for the cat, he backs into the duel being staged by two fencing mice, whose swords make contact with the balloon. BOOM! The explosion leaves the Santa suit tattered and pants fallen, with the stunned cat appearing to do an Egyptian shimmy dance. The jig is up, and using every toy imaginable, the mice give the cat a typical dose of “the works”, driving him back, where his tail slips into the door of the doll house. Snap! The cat races blindly through the hone, with the doll house mousetrap clamped to his tail, and is whacked by the mice toward and out the front door, which is bolted behind him. The mice and the old lady cheer their victory, but Cheeser is the one who really knows the score. He picks up the false beard left behind by the cat, placing it around his own chin, and repeats defiantly to the others, “Santy Claus, eh? Ha ha ha!” The other mice are left with their mouths hanging open, no longer able to chastise Cheeser for his firm disbeliefs, nor able to voice justification for their own previous counter-views. What kind of conversations did mothers and fathers have to have with their kids after viewings of this cartoon? And was Rudolf Ising actually foreseeing such a result? Were there a stated moral for this story, one might have spliced on the curtain line from Disney’s anti-happy ending wartime classic “Chicken Little”, discussed a few weeks ago in this column, with the sobering thought, “Don’t believe everything you read, chum!”
What prompted the production of a film such as this, departing from the conventional norms of the entire industry? Was Cheeser a reflection of Ising’s own childhood, where he may have perhaps faced ridicule for not believing along with the rest of the kids? Or was Ising being put to the question by kids from his own immediate or extended family, and perhaps thought it would soften the blow to show the smartest kid being the one to figure out the ultimate answer? We may never truly know, leaving open paths for great speculation. However, it seeks the sentiments of the cartoon were not held long by the executives at MGM studios, who, based on the extant original titles on all circulating prints of this cartoon, appear to have passed the film over for any redistrubtion in the holiday season (until the whole package went to television). Even then, the film was nearly always bypassed by local stations in regions I resided in, and didn’t see any widespread release until an MGM/UA Christmas VHS tape. Since then, aside from inclusion on the rare “Happy Harmonies” multi-laserdisc set, it has only achieved inclusion as a bonus extra on one feature-film DVD release on Warner Home Video, and remains a largely-forgotten rarity except for possibly being trotted out seasonally on Turner Classic now and again. For all its production value, it deserved better – and might have gotten same if not for its ulterior message.
Almost equally subversive to holiday tradition is Popeye’s Mister and Mistletoe (Paramount/Famous, 9/30/55 (a bit early for a holiday toon) – I Sparber, dir.) – The film opens with Popeye’s nephews (only three by this time – had Peep-Eye quit the team to launch a career as a solo act?) telling Popeye and Olive that they’ve been good little boys, and to please ask Santa to bring them all kinds of toys. Olive and Popeye bareface lie to the kids that they will tell Santa personally – but the minute the kids hang their stockings and disappear upstairs into their bed, Olive and Popeye break out the Christmas decorations and presents, along with a fake Santa suit and beard for Popeye. Olive begins installing the decorations, while held up to ceiling level by Popeye, balancing her on one hand. Bluto appears at the window, and is upset that “runt” Popeye got here ahead of him. Olive remarks to Popeye, “It’s wonderful to be a child and belive in Santa Claus.” Popeye responds, “Yeah, Olive. It’s too bad there ain’t no Santa Claus fer us grownups.” (Startling news for the kids already.) At the window, Bluto spies the Santa suit and beard on a chair, and “borrows” them along with the toy sack for a little yuletide play of his own. Before Olive and Popeye know it, the sounds of “Merry Christmas” are heard on the roof. Popeye looks up the chimney to investigate. Bluto breaks off the exterior chimney bricks, and tosses them down the flue upon Popeye. Bluto then makes his entrance over the buried Popeye into the living room, dressed in costume. Emphasizing the whopper lie that Popeye told the kids, Popeye, popping out from under the bricks, rubs his eyes in wonderment. “I can’t believes my eyes. It IS Santa Claus.” (So Popeye never met him before after all.)
Bluto almost forgets himself, wishing Olive, “Merry Christmas, Baby”, then changing it to “Miss”. Bluto hangs some mistletoe, but when Popeye bends to use it to get a kiss from Olive, Bluto pulls a rug out from under Popeye, flinging him out the window, and takes his place with Olive. But Popeye still pops up in front of him, re-entering through a furnace grating in the floor – leaving Bluto to only kiss the back of Popeye’s head. Bluto suggests Popeye fetch him some toys – then thrusts Popeye into the sack, for another toss out the window. The sack catches upon a high branch of a tall tree outside, and is flung backwards into the house again, disturbing Bluto’s cozy read of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to Olive. Bluto tries again, asking Popeye to set up the electric train. Bluto plugs in the transformer before the track is assembled. Popeye receives a violent shock (something I never remember happening from any Lionel set) and flips with several of the train components into the air. When he lands, he has swallowed the whole train, which comes chugging out of his mouth when he opens it, back onto the track.
Bluto begins lighting candles on the tree with Olive, suggestively remarking tio her that it’s a shame Christmas comes but once a year. “Drop in anytime”, responds Olive coyly. Popeye appears, wanting to join in the candle lighting. Bluto saves the top candle for Popeye to light – a stick of TNT. The blast sends Popeye out the window again, through the ice of a frozen lake, where he rises in the splash from the icy water below – and instantly freezes within the tall splash of water. Bluto laughs sadistically back at Olive’s place, failing to notice his beard is getting too close to one of the lit candles. A quick singe of the fake beard – and Bluto’s true identity is revealed. The chase is on, as Olive mounts a bicycle, and Bluto pursues her round and around, across all four walls of the room (an angle directly swiped from several Tex Avery films). Popeye, still frozen, hears Olive’s calls for help. Oddly, he doesn’t instantly go for his spinach, but uses the flame from his pipe to melt away his ice prison. Darting back to the house, he races for the sack of gifts, retrieving a gift-wrapped item bearing tag for his nephews – a can of spinach. Popeye’s fist transforms into a sledge hammer, and one sock knocks Bluto out of the Santa outfit and across the living room in his underwear. A trail of stars spins around and off Bluto’s head, for once not encircling the Paramount mountain, but instead forming into a glittering garland encircling the Christmas tree. Meanwhile, Popeye obtains from nowhere a second fake white beard, dons the Santa suit, and begins to chortle “Ho Ho Ho.” Upstairs, the nephews finally hear the goings-on downstairs, and race down to see. But their reaction to “Santa” is unexpected. “What did you get us, Uncle Popeye?” “Did you get me a bicycke, Uncle Popeye?” “Where is my gun, Uncle Popeye?” Knowing the jig is up, Popeye reacts, “Oh my gosk, they recognized me”, and laughs heartily for the fade out. Another one that must have left the kids scratching their heads.
The claymation imagination of Art Clokey produced two unusual originals for the holiday season. One was Pigeon In a Plum Tree (Gumby, 12/17/60). Gumby is reading a Christmas story to Pokey from a storybook of the same name. He begins to relate the tale of King Ott, ruler of a very poor kingdom, and his son Prince Harold, a non-too-bright and equally financially-embarrassed soul. Harold wants to propose to his sweetheart on Christmas, but has no idea what sort of a gift to present her with to impress her. Pokey becomes impatient with Gumby’s reading, and sticks his head right into the book’s pages, stating he’d rather watch than just listen. As the book is lying flat on a table, Pokey sees from within the pages the whole throne room of the palace turned sideways, until Gumby sets the book upright to turn things right-side up, and joins Pokey in peering in. King Ott advises Harold that a meaningful but inexpensive gift would be a partridge in a pear tree – which it just so happens are on sale at the discount store in town. Pokey is surprised to find they have discount stores even here. Harold takes a wagon and travels to the store. The lady at the counter says all the lovers have been buying the trees, and goes in the back to see if they have any left. Her husband tells her that they are sold out – only left with pigeons and plum trees. Realizing Harold doesn’t look very bright, the clever lady sells Harold one of the remaining birds and trees as a substitute combination, remarking “He’ll never know the difference.” But it is obvious, as Harold rolls down the street with his purchase, that all the other folks in the town can tell the difference at once – and burst out laughing immediately after Harold passes, at how foolish Harold is, and at what his girl will think of him when he presents the gift. Pokey, observing the tale from one side of the street, says he can’t stand what they’re doing to Harold, and wants to tell him of the trickery before it’s too late. Gumby repeatedly holds him back, stating that he’ll ruin the story that way, and that he should have some faith in the author to see how the tale plays out.
Harold’s travels to his girl’s home cause him to pass through a remote forest. There, he hears a cry for help. A small pixie clings to a limb sticking out from the side of a rock ledge, while a snarling wolf waits below him. Near the wolf on the ground lies a small canvas sack left unattended. Prince Harold finds a broken tree branch with three pointed limbs to serve as a trident, and cautiously approaches the wolf. Pokey again tries to intervene from his viewing point within the face of the rock wall, biting the wolf’s tail. But the wolf turns toward Pokey, causing the horse’s eyes to bug out in fear, and making him pull his head back out of the book to retreat to safety. Using the wooden trident, Harold is able to throw the wolf over his shoulder, then to fling him into a river further down the mountainside. The grateful pixie thanks him graciously, but also remarks that if he hadn’t dropped his sack, he could have dealt with the wolf himself. The sack is filled with gleaming, golden magical pixie dust. The pixie asks if there is anything he can do in return for Harold. Harold is too shy and humble to ask for any reward, and merely asks if the pixie will be his traveling companion. The two ride together to the home of Harold’s girlfriend. Harold leaves the pixie to wait outside, while he goes in to prepare the girl for the presentation of his gift. Pokey realizes this is it, and states “It’s now or never”. Gumby again tries to stop him from warning Harold and spoiling the story. Pokey insists he is not seeking to talk to Harold – only to the pixie. Pokey reveals himself, and whispers the situation into the pixie’s ear. The pixie remarks that this is terrible, and something needs to be done about it, reaching for his bag of pixie dust. Upstairs in the girl’s chamber, Harold brings the girl to a closed patio, then flings open the patio doors to reveal view of his gift. The girl’s eyes light up, and she remarks at how special and original Harold’s gift is – a golden gilded pigeon and plum tree, which sparkles brilliantly in the sunshine. She embraces Harold, who scratches his head in wonderment, remarking that things turned out somewhat better than he expected. Pokey returns ro Gumby, who disapprovingly remarks, “Now you’ve fixed it. We’ll never know how it really ended.” Pokey makes no apologies, remarking, “I saw no point in letting all that pixie dust go to waste.”
Santa-Witch (Gumby, 12/3/60), was many years ahead of its time, well-predating Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. It is also an odd episode in that Gumby does not appear – the starring reins being handed over to Pokey. It is a simpler, sillier tale than the last. Pokey has become separated in the toy store from Gumby during the Christmas rush, and the live-action hand of a small boy makes a grab for Pokey on the shelf, telling his mommy he wants the horsie. Pokey has no wish to be carted home wrapped in ribbon, and, spotting a book on the shelf marked “Unusual Stories”, decides it looks like a good hiding place until the rush is over. He pops into the cover, entering a wintery world of ice and snow. He meets a Christmas seal – the amphibious kind – named Sybyl, who at first chastises Pokey for not knocking before entering. Pokey explains that this was an emergency, and the two become friends. Pokey spots the gates to a community behind her, reading “Santa City”, and asks the seal if he can meet Santa Claus. Sybyl responds that Santa is the friendliest person, and offers to introduce Pokey. However, the scene is interrupted by a small Eskimo boy and his dog team, who enter the gates with a sled carrying a small red emergency beacon and siren. The sled quickly exits the gates, carrying a blanketed passenger in the manner of an ambulance – Santa Claus.
Pokey and Sybyl follow to a hospital, where a nurse places Santa into bed. Sybyl introduces Santa and Pokey, and Santa explains that, while the toys are all loaded onto the sleigh, he has now gotten sick, and will not be able to make the flight. He also claims that no one else can ride for him. Pokey thinks otherwise, and recalls someone he met once, who he calls on the phone – a Halloween witch. Hearing of Santa’s ailment, the witch is eager to help, and hops on her broomstick for a flight to the North Pole. When she arrives, Pokey apologizes, indicating that he tried to call her back, but she had already left. Pokey explains that he since learned from Santa that the reindeer only obey his commands, so that the team is useless to them, and the witch’s trip was all for nothing. The witch, however, has her own ideas on propulsion, and, rounding up a team of eight brooms from Santa’s workshop, hexes them to fly in a row, hooked to the reins of the sleigh. Pokey, Sybyl, and the witch are off, and are picked up on radar by military tracking stations, running about ten minutes late when compared to last year’s flight. In an average household, a boy and girl hear the news of their sighting on TV, and hurry upstairs to their beds to await Santa’s arrival. Their home is the first stop on Santa’s list. Pokey realizes, as the sleigh lands with a thud on the roof, that there is no chimney to enter. Being a witch again has its advantages, and a simple incantation zaps the three of them and the toy sack into the living room. The kids hear their movements downstairs, and sneak down to meet Santa and his helpers, whom they can only see from the back. “Santa” turns around, and with a cackle wishes the kids “Merry Christmas”. The girl faints face forward on the floor, and the boy runs right through a wall to escape. The film ends rather suddenly, as the scene dissolves back to the roof, where Pokey supplies the witch with a fake white beard and eyebrows, suggesting she’d better use these for the rest of the trip. The three wish the audience a merry Christmas, and ride away into the night.
Christmas in Tattertown (Ralph Bakshi, 12/21/88) may have received some previous comment in other authors’ posts. Animation’s bad-boy Bakshi churns out an irreverent tribute to 1930’s animation, which by Bakshi standards is fairly conservative in seeming to include no sexual innuendo, drug-culture references, or other harmful imagery. Animation is somewhat roughshod and often lacking in fluidity, with emphasis instead on wild poses and extremes. The cartoon world portrayed might be classified as a bent revisit to “The Land of the Lost”, though on land instead of underwater – a twisted world where lost objects all come, and come to life. A little girl (Debbie) reaches this land by accidentally falling into the pages of a magic book, along with two of her dollies. One doll, of Little Miss Muffet (Muffet for short) is Debbie’s favorite for playing dress-up. But when life is bestowed upon the doll upon reaching this strange land, Debbie discovers that the doll absolutely could not stand Debbie’s constant dress-up games, and makes its break for freedom. Debbie loses her foot race with Muffet, and the doll (who behaves more like a boy than a girl, even exhibiting some five-o’clock shadow around the jaw) escapes to parts of town unknown.
Debbie begins to befriend other characters in town (a weird assortment of dolls, instruments, household items, and bric-a-brac). Examples of inhabitants include a hipster blues saxophone names Miles, who serves as narrator of our story, and a barroom full of odd characters that even includes a prominent rotoscoped image of the waiter gorilla who provided service to the cantinas of Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising in “Lady Play Your Mandolin” and “The Gay Gaucho”.) Debbie recalls Christmas is coming, and misses cuddling and dressing her runaway dolly. She discovers from the inhabitants’ questions that they do not know a thing about Christmas – and determines to teach them all the holiday traditions. Concluding that there must be some lost Christmas items scattered about town, she soon encounters a live holly wreath with tough-guy attitude, and looks up the only known pine tree in the community, a Mr, Tannenbaum, who runs a local comic book shop loaded with vintage back-issues of 1930’s comics (featuring images of jitterbug dancers, swing bands, Walter Winchell microphones, and even J. Edgar Hoover shooting at gangsters). Tannenbaum surprisingly proves to be of ethnic origin, talking in a Jewish dialect, and also knows from nothing about Christmas. But Debbie talks him into being the town Christmas tree, leading him into it by mentioning that he will have no competition. Being a good businessman, Tannenbaum accepts the position, always having wanted to become a monopoly.
Meanwhile, Muffet has wandered into the sleazy part of town, where he walks right Into the middle of a standard 1930’s cartoon setup – a shop, within which row upon row of product creatures upon shelves are ganging up to give the works to a large spider who is attempting to make off with a small character. Muffet, growing bolder by the minute with her new-found life powers, shouts at the top of her lungs for everyone to lay off the spider, who is just trying to do his job as a bad guy. Muffet’s brash attitude intimidates the other characters to back down, and Muffet refers to herself as “Muffet the Merciless”, announcing intentions to “take over this dump.” All the others scram, except the spider, who is anxious to befriend a fellow villain. He takes Muffet to a hidden place on the outskirts of town – the Deadster Zone, hangout for war toys, TV sets, and other unsavory characters. The spider introduces Muffet to the “army” of old planes, war machines, etc. he has been working on, hoping for years to take over Tattertown. Muffet takes command, classifying the spider’s motley crew as “rust-buckets”, and immediately goes to work on modifications and improvements.
A fly spy brings word to Muffet that Debbie is planning a Christmas for the town. In something of a plot hole, Muffet seems to be the only toy to remember what a Christmas was – and what it was to her. Being wrapped, unwrapped, and worst of all, squeezed. She redoubles her efforts at a town takeover, now with the added motive to keep Christmas from occurring here. The spider is recruited to act as a costumed reindeer, and Muffet dons a homemade Santa suit, to provide easy cover for a massed aerial attack by the war machines to gain entrance to Tattertown. Little matter that the spider can’t fly, as the fly spy actually does all the work of hauling Muffet and the spider by the spider’s rear. The attack commences, with the gullible Tattertown folk thinking it’s the fabled Santa’s arrival. However, an unexpected interference appears in the sky – the real Santa and his team. (Why Santa has chosen this first time to appear over Tattertown remains an unexplained question. Is it because no one in the town believed in him before? Or because of the first presence of Debbie as an actual human there?) Muffet orders her forces to do an about-face, and attack Santa. The war machines don’t hear the order correctly, and seemingly only half of them turn around, facing the others. One plane (with a voice directly mimicking Pinto Colvig as Goofy) gets the idea that the change in plan is for all the planes to attack each other. Military genius! The sky is lit with firework-like explosions as the planes obliterate one another. Santa himself enjoys the show, letting out with a cowboy whoop of “Yee-hah.” Feeling his work here is done, Santa leaves the frustrated Muffet, to carry on his work elsewhere, and bids her a Merry Christmas, to the doll’s consternation. Now alone except for her mount, Muffet remains resolute to attack solo – who needs an army anyway?
Back on the ground, the Tattertown folk are cheering, thinking the fireworks and aerial dogfight are all part of the seasonal show. Now Debbie is the one frustrated, as she can see the townfolk still don’t get the idea of the holiday – everything’s all wrong. She spots an old gramophone, and a lost stash of 78 records within its cabinetry. She places her hopes that a copy of the best-selling record she’s looking for has got to be here – and it is. Bing Crosby’s actual Decca recording of “White Christmas” – the original, more seldom-heard 1942 version, that went out-of-print when extreme demand for the side caused the wearing out of the master stamper. The townsfolk get hit right in the sentiment as the music begins playing – hugging, kissing, weeping tears of joy. Even Muffet’s spider and fly burst into tears. The spider reaches into a pocket and produces a box of soap flakes, which he begins sprinkling over the town as artificial snow. The fly also lets go his grip on the spider, overcome with emotion. Muffet’s eyes shrink, realizing there is nothing now holding them up. The spider lands safely on one point of a crescent moon, continuing to spread his soap flakes on the town from above. Muffet, however, crashes through the wall of the town jail, landing inside a cell. Debbie and the others peer through the barred window, as Debbie reacts with joy that Muffet is back, and can be her dollie again. Muffet rants and raves from within the cell, as our narrator closes the scene on the “Christmas gig” for the evening.
The special’s presentation is irregular, seeming at times cluttered and rushed in many places, while padded with interesting but unnecessary-to-the-plot character sequences in others, almost as if the writers contemplated expanding the film to an hour long. It takes a little getting used to, and may not grab you on first run as appearing too confusing. But there is a lot of visual energy and small detail hidden within it, some of which undoubtedly will be overlooked on first run, and better appreciated upon a re-viewing. Interesting that no opportunity is offered the characters for a return to the real world – so is Debbie now classified as a lost item, too?
Christmas With the Joker (Warner, Batman the Animated Series, 11/13/92), was one of the earliest episodes produced at the very beginnings of Warner’s renaissance of the DC Universe. Looking back at it, it seems to have a few moments rough around the edges, several implausibilities – and yet at the time of its airing, was basically nothing like television had ever seen. It scored a big hit for Mark Hammill, newly cast in the role of the title character, who went on to become the most enduring of the portrayers of the Batman villains. It features plenty of action, pun-filled dialogue, and at least one memorable one-liner for Batman, touching on the dark side of his psyche. Deviant for the holiday? Yes – yet in a memorable, good way.
Christmas Eve at Arkham Asylum finds the inmates singing a rendition of “Jingle Bells” from sheet music, as they trim a large tree in the central hall. The Joker is among them, but not sticking to the printed lyrics – instead resurrecting a childhood doggerel that somehow came out of nowhere during the original run of the Adam West live-action series of the 1960’s. “Jingle Bells. Batman smells. Robin laid an egg. The batmobile has lost a wheel. The Joker got away.” Joker concludes his singing while mounting a ladder to the upmost limbs of the tree to plant the topper ornament on its crown. But instead of coming down the ladder, Joker hangs on to the tree, as a roar of flame erupts at its base. Somehow (with no explanation how it was pulled off) the tree has been equipped with a rocket booster, and launches Joker straight through a ceiling skylight. “Crashing through the roof…” continues Joker’s singing, as he and the tree disappear over the horizon.
At the batcave, Robin is trying to convince Batman to stay in for one night and get in the spirit of the holiday. But Batman has already gotten word of the Joker’s escape, and urgently prepares for the nightly patrol. Robin suggests that even the likes of the Joker wouldn’t make his move on Christmas eve, most villains still preferring to spend time with their family. “He has no family”, Batman informs Robin. Robin proposes a deal with Batman – they go out, look over the town, and if the Joker isn’t out and about, come home, eat Christmas dinner, and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Batman admits he’s never seen that film, with the insightful added remark, “I could never get past the title.” The deal terms agreed, the nightly patrol begins. Everything is peaceful, but Batman remains as tense and ready for action as a cat waiting to spring. Robin tries to lighten things up with a remark or two, but Batman gives him the silent treatment. Robin comments to himself that Scrooge could take lessons from the Bat. Batman finally spots a lanky youth rushing toward an old lady laden with packages. “There”, says Batman, and swings down, expecting to thwart a mugging. Instead, Batman is forced to hide in a shadow, as he overhears just before accosting the youth his voice, calling to the lady to wait up, as she dropped one of her packages two blocks back. Robin wins his point, and the two head back to Wayne Manor for a sumptuous dinner from Alfred.
Well fed, Bruce and Dick sit down before the TV set for the movie. Bruce cautiously inquires if this picture is relentlessly cheerful. Dick assures him it is not, but about the difference one man can make to a whole town. “Sound familiar?”. he adds with a nod to Bruce. However, Dick can’t get the broadcast on the set, as every channel seems to have the same image of a cheery holiday hearth. The camera view then moves to a rear-view of a figure in the shadows, announcing that “It’s a Wonderful Life” will not be seen. The figure turns – it is the Joker, who states he hopes Batman is watching – “This one’s for you.” Outside, a tank rolls through a Gotham street, crushing vehicles below its treads and firing cannon shots willy-nilly. At its command chair is a robot Santa, who suddenly launches into the sky with another rocket booster, exploding into a display of firework sparks in the shape of the Joker’s face – all to provide a main title for Joker’s broadcast – the first annual “Christmas With the Joker”.
Joker’s broadcast is set up with all the trappings of a TV studio – excepting an audience. Instead, a laugh and reaction machine provides canned audience sound effects, and cardboard cutouts of various Gothamites full the empty studio seats. Already, Bruce and Dick have suited up as Batman and Robin, and are tracking power surges in the Gotham grid on the bat-computer to locate the source of Joker’s broadcast. At the hidden studio, Joker remarks that rumor has it that the holidays are a time to spend with family. As he hasn’t one, he’s decided to steal one – and reveals a trio he calls the “Awful Lawfuls”, consisting of straight-jacketed Commissioner Gordon, reporter Summer Gleeson, and Detective Bullock. An idea of the writers which doesn’t work visually is for the three to be gagged with candy canes – which look much too small to have such an effect upon their speech. After introducing the three to the viewers, Joker admits he has little use for relatives, so spices things up with an incentive to Batman – either come and get them before midnight, or he will rub them out.
As Batman and Robin near the broadcast source in the Batmobile, Joker throws them a monkey wrench to delay their task. Two thugs whom he refers to as “Donner and Blitzen” are shown by remote camera, blowing up a railway bridge. A train is due to cross the now-open chasm in a matter of minutes. Batman is forced to do a 180-degree turn, and zoom in the opposite direction of the broadcast source to save the train. Robin leaps aboard just ahead of the first passenger car, and turns a control to uncouple the passenger cars from the engine. Batman, atop the forward cars, attempts to reach the engineer, but sees the chasm fast approaching with too little time to stop the train. He is, however, able to signal the engineer through the cab window, and yank him out of the cab to safety, just before the engine plunges into the chasm in a firey explosion. Batman and Robin resume their quest for the signal, finding it atop an observatory peak. Joker has rigged the observatory tower, replacing the telescope with a large cannon barrel with automatic ability to track and shoot at movement below. Batman draws the cannon’s fire, while Robin sneaks in a back door of the observatory, dodging bullets from six life-sized Joker dummies with machine-gun fingers. Robin is finally able to launch an explosive device at the cannon and disable it. But the broadcast studio is not on the mountain. Batman admits he has no clue what to do next, so they continue to monitor Joker’s broadcast.
Joker seems determined to get Batman to show up for his big show, so throws Batman a clue to his whereabouts. He presents one of his “family” with a Betty Blooper doll – something out of print so long, Robin remarks he hasn’t seen one in years. Batman recalls the toy factory that manufactured it – out of business 14 years ago. A natural hideout for the Joker’s show. They infiltrate the factory, where they are immediately detected by the Joker from an upstairs catwalk. Joker activates a phonograph, hits some switches, and pushes some buttons. Strains of “The Nutcracker” play over a P.A. system, as Batman and Robin run a gauntlet of obstacles, including three-story tall toy soldiers, miniature radio-controlled planes with Joker-faced pilots, and real-life hoodlum snipers. Joker finally reveals himself, with his “family” suspended over a vat of a boiling red metal or chemical. He threatens to cut the rope suspending them, unless Batman steps forward and opens a present. Robin senses a trap, but Batman accepts the package, and slowly opens it. Oddly, there is nothing lethal within – Joker just couldn’t resist the opportunity to launch by jack-in-the-box spring a custard cream pie right in Batman’s face. Then, Joker cuts the rope anyway. Using his grappling hook, Batman quickly times a swing to knock the falling “family” clear of the boiling vat. Batman leaps for the Joker’s back, but only gets an extra jacket with a pair of fake arms filling it. Joker runs up a ladder to a catwalk, but overlooks a stray roller skate on the landing, presumably left over from the earlier fracus. Joker nearly duplicates the fall that led to his original disfiguration, coming inches from falling face-first into the boiling liquid of the vat. But he us suspended by a strong hand clasped around his ankle. “Merry Christmas”, says a smiling Batman. “Bah, Humbug”, responds Joker.
The episode ends with Dick and Bruce finally watching the last frames of the closing credits of “It’s a Wonderful Life”, courtesy of a video loaned by Commissioner Gordon. Dick comments that it really is a wonderful life. A half-smiling Bruce acknowledges, “It has its moments.” The scene returns to Arkham, where Joker sits within a cell, tied in a straight-jecket, singing “Don we now our gay apparel…”, and finally adding “Merry Christmas”, between maniacal laughs, for the fade out.
• Watch the whole episode HERE.
There’s been a few major projects over the years that perhaps went off the deep end, which I will not give full spotlight to here (at least this season), but which deserve acknowledgement of their existence. Two of the most far out would be from Fox’s Animation Domination block. Both were consistent with the spirit of their adult animation roots, and certainly developed a flurry of laughs in their own warped way, but did little to evoke a true holiday season vibe. One would be the mythos created for Matt Groening’s Futurama, beginning with the episode Xmas Story (12/19/99), of the converted holiday of “Xmas” – which can hardly be called a holiday any more. Instead, it is a night for hiding in terror. This all results from the creation of a robot Santa who goes haywire, and places the whole human race on the naughty list. He becomes bent upon the destruction of their kind, and roams the skies and streets, armed with automatic weapons, dreaming of a “Red” Xmas. Every dialogue cliche imaginable for the season gets tweaked in a homicidal way, and even acts of offering him milk and cookies are classified by him as the crime of bribery. Leela offers him the paradox that he himself is evil, and therefore he must destroy himself. Santabot’s head emits sparks at the thought, then violently explodes. However, a new head instantly reappears, and Santabot informs the crew that he is equipped with anti-paradox crumple zones.
Perhaps even more out-there is Family Guy’s Road to the North Pole (12/12/10), in which Stewie sets upon a trek to Santa’s workshop to murder him for ignoring his wish list and passing up a bribe at a local department store line. However, when he meets the real Santa at the pole, he finds a distraught employer who welcomes the idea of being put out of his misery. Santa’s workshop has grown to a mammoth industrial plant spewing toxic waste, manned by elves who have become so scarce as a source of labor, they have been inbred to mutant states. Santa points out that his operation was only originally meant to produce simple toys – now, “Did you ever try making i-phones?” When Santa has a nervous breakdown, Stewie and Brian pitch in as twin Santas, and screw things up big-time, with breaking and entering, defensive brutalizing, and near murder. Not children’s fare by a long shot, but at least satirical in a demented sort of way.
One of the more recent additions to the off-the-beaten-path class of holiday specials was Dreamworks’ The Bad Guys: A Very Bad Holiday (11/20/23). A prequel to the 2022 caper picture featuring a quintet of toon villains headed by the Big Bad Wolf, and including a safecracker snake, electronics genius and hacker tarantula, a shark who is a master of disguise, and a piranha into explosives. They look forward to Christmas each year, as a time when the businesses and streets are generally deserted, making plundering of the town’s shops easy pickings. As they cruise through the town in their sports convertible getaway car, they ponder over this year’s targets for the annual haul, deciding upon City Corporate Bank as the final crowning “cherry on top of our criminal sundae.” Nearby, a street of spectators eagerly awaits the arrival of the city’s beloved giant Santa balloon, “Big Nick.” As the Bad Guys turn onto another nearby street, someone on the sidewalk recognizes them. The wolf steps on the gas to evade view, but turns onto the wrong road, where the balloon attendants are marching with the control ropes to the Santa balloon. The attendants run for cover, leaving the ropes unattended. One rope snags on a rear fender of the convertible – and suddenly the Bad Guys find themselves involved in a heist they didn’t plan – of Big Nick.
The snake reaches out in attempt to chomp through the rope holding the balloon. All he succeeds in doing is bouncing the balloon violently against walls and windows of the buildings passing on each side. The balloon briefly descends upon the convertible, for a few moments blocking the wolf’s ability to see and drive. When the balloon rises again, the wolf sees an opportunity – the bar of a traffic signal light extending halfway across the street. He drives the car under it, snapping the rope, which gets caught upon the traffic signal. “See ya, Santa”, shouts the wolf. But an electrical short develops in the signal, setting fire to the rope. The balloon erupts in flames, drifts into a skyscraper wall, and explodes, leaving a charred outline of Santa’s face upon the building wall.
The city falls into a mourning mode over the beloved balloon. Efforts to wash off the charred face imprint only distort the image into a face more hideous. Christmas spirit is lost, and citizens everywhere state they have no reason left to celebrate – and might just as well go back to work tomorrow – including the security guard of the bank. “This can’t be happening”, shout the Bad Guys from their hideout as the news breaks on TV – what’s the point of their annual haul if the people are still there to keep them from achieving maximum heisting? One of the gang reacts at the spoiling of their plans by remarking “Stupid Santa”, but Tarantula reminds him to show respect to Santa, even in balloon form, considering that he’s broken and entered more often than anyone else in the world, and never been caught. The Wolf concludes that if Christmas can be cancelled so easily from the loss of a balloon, replacing it ought to bring the celebrating right back again. Tarantula states she’s way ahead of them, and reveals a secret project she has been working on as a surprise for the boys – an electronic, robotic Santa fifteen feet tall, operated by remote, but more efficiently driven with a live pilot inside. However, she has removed all “jolly” aspects from the device, and it fires a jet of flame much like a transformer robot. The wolf, somewhat in shock, admits it’s really something, but believes that the missing “jolly” aspect is what endeared the other city folk to Big Nick in the first place. Thus, the wolf concludes, how hard can it be for five criminal masterminds to make a balloon? Pretty hard, as their effort looks like a monster roughly resembling the eyeball creature from “Monsters Inc.” A further alternative plan is called for – spike the local radio station with a return of holiday music instead of punk rock, and drop presents in people’s houses so they’ll stay home to open them the next day (the presents of course stolen from the department store). It’s complicated, but phase one manages to happen. The news reports that holiday spirit is beginning to return – but is it quite enough to put Christmas back on the calendar and fill the hole left by the Santa balloon? The wolf thinks one more thing is needed to push things over the edge – make it snow.
Tarantula would just as soon find a way to hack into the atmosphere to really gain control of the weather elements. But the wolf proposes a more feasible method of obtaining snow – a hack into the ice-shaving mechanisms of the local sno-cone parlor. The shark keeps the man at the counter distracted, while Tarantula and the Wolf install Tarantula’s custom control device upon the machine. The device has a numbered dial for power level, which Tarantula tells Wolf should work sufficiently with a setting of 5. As she leaves to ensure that the output of the machine is properly re-routed to the roof ventilation shaft, the Wolf, determined to make this plan work for certain, doubles the power level to 10. Artificial snow begins to stream out the ventilation shaft of the building, blanketing the town. Everyone seems ensured a holiday mood, and it appears Christmas will be on again – until the machine begins to rock with power surges, and Tarantula discovers Wolf’s mis-setting of the controls when he appears outside. The roof output of snow grows exponentially. The temperature rapidly drops, and a solid dome of ice grows around all but the ventilation shaft of the building. The winds whirl above the structure, and develop into a swirling, cyclone-like vortex. Instead of Christmas, the town cringes in fear of mass-destruction.
The gang ask Tarantula if she can hack into her device. She remarks with disdain at the thought that she, the computer wizard, would leave any security holes in her own system. The only way to stop the device is to unplug it. Shark, the strongest among them, makes an attempt to charge the vortex, bit is merely sucked up, then thrown by the winds back beyond their reach, embarrassingly minus his shirt. “IF Shark isn’t strong enough, who is?” questions Pirahna. Tarantula knows of one – her Santa-bot. Wolf rides in the command seat inside the robot, and with considerable dramatic struggle and effort, is finally able to crack the ice dome, smash a window, and reach a robotic hand inside the parlor to yank loose Tarantula’s electronic control. Wolf falls out a rear panel of the robot and escapes, just as crowds start to gather around in the subsiding snow. Back at the convertible, Tarantula does the rest of the controlling remotely, with Shark patched in to provide a voice for the robot Santa, who instructs his new adoring fans to all go home and get ready for Christmas morning, so that Santa can complete his rounds overnight. The crowds disperse, and the gang begins to celebrate that the Christmas heist is on again. Until Wolf sneezes – then another of the group, then another. We cut to the following morning. The whole gang is back at their lair, not out and about stealing, but sneezing into hankies, down with colds so bad they can’t pull off their caper. To make matters more humiliating, a batch of presents is discovered in a corner of their lair – and not containing lumps of coal. The real Santa has evidently broken-in during the night, leaving presents for them – meaning that they have been taken off Santa’s naughty list! “We’ll never live it down”, remarks one of the gang. The Wolf immediately resolves that this can’t be permitted, and they will regain their rightful place as naughty by next season, by immediately launching into plans for next year’s Christmas caper – heist the North Pole!
And, lest I wind up on the naughty list myself, I include a bonus extra of my favorite classic holiday short – Tom and Jerry’s The Night Before Christmas (MGM, 12/7/41 – William Hanna/Joseph Barbera, dir.). Only three episodes into the series, yet this masterful short totally encapsulates the love/hate relationship that made Tom and Jerry stand out head and shoulders above the crowd of other cartoon felines and rodents. The personality animation is marvelous, and gag ideas include some so memorable, they would find their way into productions of other studios, including Warner Brothers (Toy Trouble, Gift Wrapped) and Disney (Pluto’s Christmas Tree). All this, and it truly evokes holiday spirit to boot. A fitting finale to any Christmas program. Enjoy, and happy Yuletide.
Next Week: another single-installment detour from usual subject, taking a look at all things “new”.
Charles Gardner is an animation enthusiast who toils by day as a member of LA Law – but by nights and weekends indulges in classic jazz and ragtime as a performer; and studies classic Hollywood cartoons… maybe a little too much.
“Mickey’s Good Deed” is even timelier than you may realise. Just recently, a city council in Australia unanimously passed an ordinance prohibiting homeless people from having pets. I understand that there are issues involved with pets being kept by people who can’t afford veterinary care for them; but after having watched the cartoon, the idea of passing such a measure a week before Christmas strikes me as all the more, well, Grinchy.
The Grinch himself has nothing on the cat in “Alias St. Nick”. The Grinch only wanted to ruin Christmas for every Who down in Whoville. He didn’t try to eat their children.
I really wanted to like “Christmas in Tattertown”. I appreciated the animation, design, and jazzy musical score, and I enjoyed all the cameos by Silly Sidney, Oswald, Bosko and Honey, and others. A scene where the spider’s head conspicuously keeps disappearing and reappearing seems to be conscious homage to the frequent layout errors that pervade early cartoons. You can tell that it was made in the wake of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”, Tattertown being something like the seedier side of Toontown. But if I hadn’t read your synopsis before watching it, I don’t think I’d have been able to follow the story at all.
I remember that “Futurama” episode and didn’t care for it, but then the show was still fairly new and hadn’t hit its stride yet. On the other hand, I found it very amusing that the world of Futurama had Jewish robots who celebrated Robanukah, observed Bot Mitzvah ceremonies, and believed that Robot Jesus was a great teacher but not the true Robot Messiah.
Imagine your uncle giving you a can of spinach for Christmas, and then eating the spinach himself! I can hardly blame the kid for asking, “Where’s my gun, Uncle Popeye?”
Looking forward to “celebraking” the first post of the New Year next week!
(Gulp) what an eerie lineup of cartoons, and some of these have actually appeared on the MeTV channels to celebrate the holiday! I knew about some of these, obviously, but thanks for pointing them out. It is the earliest cartoons here that I was totally unaware of, including the Walt Disney Mickey Mouse black-and-white cartoon. dare I say, merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, and everything good to all of you at cartoon research for the holidays. Celebrate well, animated or otherwise.
It just dawned on the voice Dal McKennon is doing as the king in “Pigeon in a Plum Tree” is Digger O’Dell (played by John Brown) in The Life of Riley.
The cue at the start of the short is GR 459 Dawn in Birdland. There’s other Phil Green music from Quick Draw McGraw in it, too.
Mickey’s Good Deed is my favorite of the B&W Mickey Mouses. it is a perfect blend of comedy and sympathy without heavy-handedness on either side.
What about Peace on Earth?
Eclectic, yes – but much more commonly noted due to its fame as an Oscar nominee. I myself have written about it in these columns on more than one occasion.