Mudsy Joins the Circus (The Funky Phantom, 11/13/71) – Everything that the later Buford episode benefitted from last week, this one has not. Similar plot is presented of crime within the circus grounds, but the plot points and premise here make little sense. As the Phantom gang passes a circus grounds, the shadowy silhouette of a gorilla is sighted leaving the premises. The gang reports it to the circus owner, but the show only owns one gorilla, who seems securely locked in his cage, and is vouched for by his trainer as not having escaped lock and key. The gang can’t believe it could be just their imagination, then sights the gorilla again along the road. They hang back, then slowly follow the travels of the escaped ape, finally spotting him climbing a telephone pole, and surreptitiously depositing a brief case atop it. The gorilla leaves, but a helicopter arrives, dropping a hook to pick up the brief case, then departs. This same pattern seems to occur like clockwork over the course of several nights. Not exactly what one would classify as ape-like behavior, especially seeing as the genuine ape always seems to be found locked and secure. Much of the half-hour is wasted on skulking to find the source of the criminal ape, and the Phantom does a disappearing act to investigate the contents of one of the brief cases left on the pole – counterfeit money. Details and clues don’t make sense. An ape suit, of course, is eventually discovered in the trainer’s wagon. But why disguise as something as conspicuous as a gorilla to make the money drops? Also, why be seen on the road, as the kids’ investigation also discloses a secret tunnel from a cave near the drop-off site, leading back to the circus – which the trainer never seems to have used throughout the episode! The plot is simply dumb, and the Phantom does fairly little but cower in fear, then muster up one scare. It builds up semi-mysteriously, but only to an awful let-down.
Fat Lady Caper (The Amazing Chan and the Chan Clan, 10/14/72) – Here was a series premise that, in the hands of more serious and competent personnel, might have really been something. A well-established detective franchise which had spanned several decades of popularity – the Charlie Chan mystery series, which had entertained audiences lucratively at both Fox and Monogram studios in live action – was acquired. The services of actor Keye Luke (who had played the original Number One Son) were signed up to play Charlie Chan. Decision was made not to play ethnicity in cornball stereotypical fashion – even to the point of a failed attempt to hire all-Asiatic actors for the primary cast (quelched when their voices became hard to understand). An inspired twist on the old movie scripts would establish the series theme – that Charlie’s ten offspring would join forces to try to help Dad in solving crimes. All this seemed to add up to potential for one of the brightest entries in Saturday Morning action-adventure. Then what in hell went wrong? For one thing, the writers did not play true to their material. Instead of remaining faithful to their genre, the script department seemed more concerned with producing a twisted clone of “Scooby-Doo”, allowing the series no chance to establish a new identity of its own. Thus, all thought of constructing intriguing mysteries to follow worthy of the detective seem tossed out the window, in favor of playing the show for the cheapest of laughs and corny lines, in “comedy” over adventure. Lowering the Chan franchise to new depths, the studio even stoops to its old ploy of falling back upon a laugh track – which laughs at lines not worthy of a snicker. In similar vein to Scooby, Josie and the Pussycats, Pebbles and Bamm Bamm, and the like, H-B finds it necessary to underscore at least one chase each week with banal rock music – in the particular instance of the subject episode mentioned here, with lyrics that have no connection whatsoever with the subject of the action being presented on screen. A cornball touch is added to dialogue between Chan’s two oldest sons, one of whom happens to be named Stanley, by having the other brother frequently deliver lines in the condescending manner of Oliver Hardy addressing Stan Laurel. Plausibility of gags is also abandoned, with the inclusion of the “Chan Van” – a vehicle that makes Professor Pat Pending’s “Convert-a-Car” look like a piker, that can change from van to hot dog stand to construction crane at the push of a button. Most disturbing of all, the writers face the challenge of dealing with a larger cast than the ensemble of Top Cat, while attempting to maintain separate personalities and something to do for each of Chan’s ten children, and a little dog too – and spend so much time attempting to fill with red herrings, diversions, and poorly-conceived punch lines, that they forget entirely to provide a coherent mystery to solve, and cross-up their own clues with plot holes and unexplainable improbabilities. What a disaster! Even the likes of Moss Marple or Hercule Poirot couldn’t have operated effectively under these conditions. If only someone had remembered the elements that made the original film series so memorable, and played the scripts with some serious respect for such roots and a decent effort to let clues add up logically, we might have had a probable classic – a setup which might have merited revisiting in the current era of higher-quality animation and more ornate writing of adventure material.
Trite plot – a circus Fat Lady disappears, and the owner thinks a rival circus who he refused to sell out to is behind it, as well as other recent alleged mishaps. The kids scramble in all directions, while Charlie follows his own leads. A preposterous chase sequence occurs between the two oldest sons and an anatomically-accurate skeleton – which, after being seen repeatedly with hollow rib cage and pencil-thin backbone in all dimensions, is suddenly revealed to be no more than a painted image on a costume. Then how were the invisible hollows between bones achieved in all prior shots, with background details clearly seen though them in broad daylight and no costume outlines? The Fat Lady turns out to be a thin man in a rubber suit and face mask. (And no one ever noticed during performances?) A puncture of his suit sends him flying around like a deflating balloon. (Is this a human Chan mystery, or a Road Runner cartoon?) The man in costume has pulled off bank robberies in four prior cities in which the circus has played, using the circus as cover. (Then why would he be so obvious as to disappear to pull off the heists during showtime?) For what reason would this guy pull off other acts of alleged sabotage on the show, when he needs the show for cover? And why would he return in the skeleton suit, when he could merely have shown up again as the Fat Lady to remove the necessity for the kids to conduct further investigation? The real mystery for Chan to solve is how the writers ever thought they could get away with passing over all these details, right under Chan’s nose!
The Circus Story (The Addams Family, 11/17/73) – Predictable smiles reasonably cover for another slender plot. Honest John’s carnival/circus advertises itself as “The Worst Show On Earth” – an attractive title to the Addams’s tastes. John is indeed honest, warning that he really has the worst show, because all his good acts have been bought away by the rival Wrangling Brothers’ Circus. His rubber man is covered in tire patches. His sword swallower gags on butter knives. His fire eater has heartburn. And his Siamese twins split because one has an offer from the Wrangling Brothers to get actually paid. The Addamses are nonetheless intrigued with the show, but wind up the only paying customers in the big top audience. The crowds are elsewhere – around the Addams’s mobile haunted-house vehicle, observing a badminton match between Fester, Granny, Thing, and an octopus – watching the real freaks instead of the circus’s lame ones. John decides signing up the Addamses is the solution to drawing the crowds back to the circus.
The family takes over Sideshow duties, notably with Fester becoming an effective fire-eater by ingesting some of Granny’s hot sauce. Inside the big top, Puggsley and Wednesday perform as the Human B.B.’s, shot together from a slingshot by Lurch, then caught in mid-air by Morticia’s pet vulture. The whole family forms a human pyramid atop a wire-walking Lurch, and survive a sneeze by Fester, as they all hang onto the ends of Lurch’s balancing pole, then are tossed back upon Lurch’s shoulders to form a bouncing human pogo-stick to reach the opposite platform. The Wrangling Brothers can’t very well miss what is going on, and fear John will put them out of business. So they stupidly resort to criminal ways, heisting the day’s receipts from John’s safe. Rather than do the obvious of calling the police, Gomez suggests the family pay a visit to the Wrangling Brothers to persuade them to give the money back. They are stalled by circus workers who claim the Brothers are not in, so enjoy themselves with the circus’s amusements to pass the time. They systematically wreck the high-striker, baseball and dart booths. The Brothers have a worker lead Morticia and Gomez to a darkened tent for a special “sneak peek” at a new attraction, then bring up the lights, to reveal that the Addamses are in the center of a snake pit featuring the world’s deadliest snakes. But Gomez and Morticia take to the creatures as if they were their most cherished pets, and the snakes respond with affection. Morticia suggests they all need a romp in the fresh air, and a cobra in a basket supplies her with a flute to lead them in pied-piper style. They all emerge from the tent on parade, and cause a stampede of the paying customers, who trample tents and the front gate in their haste to exit. The Wrangling Brothers are left with no choice but to make peace, returning not only the money but the original sideshow performers to John as well. With future prosperity seeming assured, John still asks if the Addamses want to stay on. Gomez declares that they must move on, as they are not really cut out to be circus folk. After all, they are just “plain, simple, ordinary homebodies.”
The Circus Caper (Clue Club, 12/4/76) – A series whose human characters were so forgettable, the series title had to be changed to “Woofer and Whimper, Dog Detectives”, even though these characters were only supporting “comic” relief. The two hounds seem a rip-off of the farm-hounds Napoleon and Lafayette from Disney’s “The Aristocats”, but with substitutions in voice mannerisms and dialect that suggest Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll of “Amos ‘n’ Andy” and “Calvin and the Colonel”. Another weak plot that wastes all kinds of time in the presentation, about the sudden disappearance of a trapeze artist when the lights in the tent go out in mid-performance. A small puddle of motor oil below, deduced as from the clown’s car, becomes a key clue, as a man who covets the former job of the acrobat was a clown at the time of the disappearance. The acrobat’s partner, happy to see the disappearing star leave, was an accomplice, jealous of him and arranging for the trapeze bar to never be thrown for the disappearing performer to catch, allowing him to fall into the clown’s car below in the darkness and be spirited away. With no explanation, the kids somehow produce the missing performer at the end of the show, though his place of imprisonment was never revealed. As usual, H-B’s clues just don’t add up.
Circus of Horrors (Super Friends, 10/18/80) – Horror is right. This episode drops in quality to a level below anything produced by Filmation – if that is possible. Without explanation as to their origin, a race of super animals has decided that their kind has been dominated in circuses long enough, and develops both hypnotizing and transforming rays to hypnotize entire circus audiences into submission, and even transform Superman and Wonder Woman into animals! The Wonder Twins have to do the real saving, with such forceful methods as transforming into snowballs and a beaver to bat them with her tail. Can you stand any more? I can’t.
Slightly better (which is not saying much) is The Incredible Space Circus (Challenge of the Superfriends, 11/25/78). At least, unlike the Casper episode reviewed last week, the title boast is accurate this time. Wonder Woman investigates a poaching report on a jungle planet, where the radio-calling ranger is cut off in mid-transmission, as he is hit with a mutating ray that turns him into a mutant gorilla. The poachers work for a space circus, where they not only display exotic species they capture from across the galaxies, but new creatures they whip up with the aid of the mutating ray. Wonder Woman is soon transformed into a mutant rhino. Aquaman eventually becomes an equivalent of the gill man from “Creature From the Black Lagoon”. The Wonder Twins become a centaur and a tree? Superman, Batman and Robin do most of the legwork to track them down through the galaxy, even resorting to a psychic read by a professor, of a space map with no course charted, to read the thoughts of its possessor as to where he was going. (That’s a new one for psychic research.) The various friends battle king-size flies, a space dragon, a mutant octopus, and each other over the course of the episode. A few unusual circus acts include an alien high-diver who dives into a tank of molten rock, lets it harden upon him as he emerges from the tank, then cracks his way out, and an eight-armed laser-knife thrower. Eventually, the Wonder Twins’ pet monkey seems ultimately responsible for the rescue, dabbling with the mutation ray with his tail to turn the Twins back to normal. The Twins zap everyone else who was mutated back to normal, and Superman simply snaps off the cab of the space vehicle in which the circus travels to bring the crooks to justice. The Twins’ monkey ends the show by attempting to zap a banana with the ray to make it bigger, but creating a banana monster who pursues him.
A Circus For Baby (The Smurfs, 10/21/84) – A respectable and decently-drawn production for the junior set. Brainy Smurf is taking Baby Smurf for a nature walk, claiming he knows every variety of flora and fauna in the forest. Suddenly, he encounters two thick gray cylindrical stumps before him – with toenails? Brainy is embarrassed to realize he has no idea what these can be, and speculates as to whether they are some form of spruce trees, when a flexible gray appendage reaches down to pick up Baby Smurf. Brainy finally looks up, to discover a circus elephant. He runs in terror for Papa Smurf, leaving Baby in the clutches of the “monster”. But the elephant is merely making friends with the tiny tot, and sets him atop the stamen of a large flower, then picks up the flower by the stem to bounce Baby playfully upon it. The entire Smurf village arrives to make a rescue, but by this time, Baby Smurf has already been set down safely by the pachyderm, who himself is found by an overzealous handler who wants to punish him for running away with jabs of a pointed stick. The trainer is halted by the elephant’s owner, a circus ringmaster, who states that animals respond to kindness, not violence. (Standards and Practices would be proud.) The Smurfs and Baby watch the circus wagons depart with the elephant, for a scheduled performance at the castle of Lord Balthazar, and Baby starts to cry at losing his new friend. Papa Smurf proposes to cheer Baby up by staging their own circus in the Smurf village – an idea that is popular with all the Smurfs except Grouchy, who as usual replies with his typical reaction of “I hate” everything.
A big top is raised, constructed of leaves sewn together. Painter Smurf applies clown makeup to several performers, while Tailor Smurf endures demands for custom measurements from Brainy for a ringmaster’s outfit. Hefty Smurf practices a high-wire act, but a mishap from Clumsy Smurf landing on his wire causes him to be launched onto a high tree limb. For the first time, at double his anticipated height, Hefty experiences dizziness and fear, and barely avoids a nasty fall. When showtime arrives, he believes he has lost his nerve, and the mere sight of looking at the wire above returns him to his dizzy spells. Brainy introduces acts which include rolling on the equivalent of oversized balls (replaced by rolling turnips), bareback riding by Smurfette (atop two squirrels), and an animal act where ferocious chipmunks are trained to jump through hoops of leaf rather than paper. Hefty, after some confidence-building pep-talk from Papa Smurf, takes again to the high wire, but experiences dizziness once again, drops his balancing pole, and hangs desperately from the wire by his feet. Papa tries to dispel a panic from the crowd, by having Brainy announce the Smurf-Cannonball act. Handy Smurf has specially constructed a cannon, with crank to increase shot-distance by hundred-foot increments. Unfortunately, several other Smurfs have taken it upon themselves to make sure rthe cannon is ready for the performance, each applying their own turns to the crank, setting the weapon for far past its anticipated range. And who should crawl into the muzzle but Baby Smurf. The cannon fires before the intended daredevil can get inside, and Baby shoots through the tent roof, over the forest, and straight into the window of the castle of Balthazar, who is expressing disdain at the mundane nature of the real circus’s performance. Baby lands safely on a cushion next to Balthazar, who is amazed at the discovery. This new variety of Smurf brings to mind a whole array of diabolical experiments he can try out in his alchemy lab, including grinding Baby into gold dust powder. Papa Smurf charts the trajectory of the cannon shot with an azimuth, and deduces the whereabouts of Baby. The only way to reach Baby for a rescue seems to be a rope fasted to a wall hook, holding up a chandelier above Balthazar and Baby. And no one among the Smurfs knows how to walk a wire but Hefty. Hefty tries with all his might to muster his courage, and again steps out on the wire, but the rescue attempt is botched, and the Smurfs are discovered. Baby, held captive in a glass bottle, is somehow launched in the confusion up upon a ceiling rafter, while the rest of the Smurfs are captured. Baby begins to wail, and is heard by the elephant chained outside. The elephant struggles against the chain, and the overzealous attendant again approaches with the pointed stick to quiet him down. The riled elephant breaks his bonds, chases the attendant away, and charges to the rescue into the castle, ultimately grabbing up Balthazar in his trunk, and tossing him out a tower window into the moat. Baby Smurf’s bottle begins to topple, and Hefty calls for the elephant to lift Hefty high upon his trunk. Hefty intercepts Baby’s fall from the elephant’s lofty perch, and discovers he wasn’t afraid of the height at all, his mind refocused on the rescue. The Smurfs return to the forest, and the circus departs, the abusive attendant now dismissed from his position. Baby cries at the departure once again, and Papa Smurf proposes they resume what they had started, putting on another show for Baby. All goes well this time, and even Grouchy, who still says he hates applause, is forced to admit that he does like circuses.
Fugitive Fleas (The Jetsons, 9/25/85) – A sub-par episode from the comeback series, weak on plot and appealing only to a junior set. It starts out reasonably enough, as the Jetsons attend a space-age flea circus at Pleasure Planet (a competing venue to the Fun Pad). Dogs aren’t allowed, but Astro defies the rules, sneaking in wearing a disguise of funny nose and glasses to be with George. The performance of the moon fleas is interestingly staged in a big-top sized space arena, the performers shown via a wide-screen magnifying TV lowered into the ring next to the ringmaster/trainer Solareenie. It includes trapeze, tightrope walking (while other fleas perform on the balance bar), and even a flea-man cannonball, the flea shooting past the ringmaster’s moustache, then descending with parachute, waving American flags. The Jetsons leave the performance, thinking Solareenie to be a genius, and marvelling at what love and affection must have gone into the training. In reality, the training incentives have been cruel mistreatment and the ringmaster’s whip. The fleas are locked in a holding box for the night, but spot Astro through the window of the box, on his way out. Cartoon bars as usual do not a prison make, the fleas easily hopping through the bars to make an escape.
Fine so far, but from here, the writers run out of meaningful ideas. Astro awakens in the middle of the night to the sound of miniature instruments playing a circus march from his posterior. Elroy investigates, and just happens to know how to understand flea language (though George thought he was only studying Esperanto). Oh well, even Augie Doggie knew how to talk to ants. The fleas tell of their mistreatment, and the family, and even frustrated Astro (who is told not to scratch), don’t have the heart to make them leave. Even Rosie is stopped short of spraying Astro’s rear with a flea repellant. But the fleas’ trainer shows up at the Jetsons’ apartment, having traced Astro (assumably by video surveillance) and found the discarded funny nose and glasses. The Jetsons propose buying him out, pooling their available funds to purchase the act. Solareenie puts on his best act to drive up the price, by wailing about all the years of loving effort that went into training, but gets a response from the flea orchestra of a tiny violin section playing a “Hearts and Flowers” cue. In the end, the trainer is hungry for dough, and the deal is made. Somehow, on the heels of the trainer’s departure, a Hollywood TV producer arrives, having caught the fleas’ act the previous evening, and offers them a contract. The fleas are asked their opinion by Elroy, and consent to the deal. Much of the end of the episode is consumed by a flea musicale on TV, trying to be a copycat “Eep Opp Ork”, but at least with some reasonably catchy speeded synthesized music. But in the end, the fleas return to Astro’s rear, preferring domestic bliss on the Jetsons’ dog. More needless dancing by the family closes the episode, and one largely feels we got cheated, with a “plot” that had only enough material for a half-episode.
The episode is posted here.
The Daring Young Snork On the Flying Trapeze (Snorks, 1/10/89) – The Snorks were created as a shameless takeoff to cash in on the popularity of the Smurfs, with eyes identical to the previous characters but little else to meet their level of quality. If possible, scripts seem to be targeted at even a younger audience – making this series utterly cloying. Unlike the Seven Dwarfs-style approach of the original series to setting up varying personalities, the underwater community of Snorks seem to have few notable personality traits at all, nor interesting vocations to individualize them. In this episode, all we’re really left with is one female Snork (Daffney), who seems almost as obsessed with herself as Vanity Smurf. She decides to join an underwater circus (featuring the usual piscatorial puns of clown fish, lion fish, sea horses, etc.) to achieve the glitter and glamour of becoming a featured trapeze artist. At the same time, Li’l Seaweed (junior partner of a seaweed monster (Bigweed) who serves as recurring, and ineffective, villain in attempt to catch Snorks) has a falling-out with her boss, and also applies for a circus position at the same time as Daffney. The two applicants thus become an unlikely pair in trapeze training. Perhaps the best-presented moments of this episode are the training sequences, which show a gradual process of hard work and trial and error – the only semi-realism in the episode. Two things, however, work against the trapeze sequences. One, there is no true sense of peril presented by the act – as the performers are, after all, in water, and seem to merely float along when swinging or being caught by an octopus trapeze catcher, with no real danger of falling at any speed to the sea floor below. Secondly, the concept that beginner trapeze artists would practice with a net. Isn’t a net the last thing an underwater creature would want to be caught in? Anyway, the ringmaster presses them into an allegedly more periilous stunt during showtime as a finale, unrehearsed and without the aid of a net. He also springs on them fine print from their contracts, that they supposedly can’t quit, as he “owns them”. The two performers fumble the stunt, but survive, partially with the help of Bigweed, who has come back with remorse over the welfare of his partner. The ringmaster tries to make off with the remaining Snork, but the two seaweed monsters intervene in her favor to frighten the ringmaster away. The story ends with everything returning to normal, and Li’l Seaweed and the Snork realizing they’ll have to keep their new friendship under cover when visible by others, just to keep appearances and reputations up to old standards.
I wouldn’t be surprised if there were another half-dozen ot so circus episodes buried in Hanna-Barbera’s vaults, from even more obscure series that have escaped under my radar. Anyone knowing of any such missing items is invited to contribute. It is notable as a coda that H-B’s love of circuses overflowed into other media as well. Ruff and Reddy’s first board game was set on a circus theme. A DOS computer game was issued titled “Hanna-Barbera’s Cartoon Carnival”. And a limited-edition lithograph was produced featuring most of the early H-B characters in circus performance, entitled “Circus of the Stars”.
Attack of the Fifty-Foot Webby (Disney, Ducktales, 11/16/89) – We’ll break up the flow with something different from the Disney Afternoon. Webbigail is having a bad day, having spent the entire afternoon under a hot wheelbarrow, because the three nephews and Bubba Duck failed to notice that she had tried to join their game of hide and seek, and no one was looking for her. She complains that no one ever notices her, and her complaints appear well grounded, as even Uncle Scrooge calls for the boys and Bubba to come to his office, leaving Webby out once again. Scrooge has spotted a newspaper article regarding the sighting of a rare long-tailed gorilla – believed to be the last of its kind. Scrooge wants the beast as an attraction for his wild animal safari park, and makes plans for a trek into the jungle to capture it. The boys are invited, and even Bubba Duck, whose primitive nose seems to have the capacities of a super-bloodhound at winning in games of hide and seek – this useful to track their prey. But Webby is left out again, Scrooge thinking the jungle is too dangerous for a wee lass. Webby has had enough, and decides that whenever the boys are told not to go somewhere, they find a way to do so anyway. “And so will I”, says Webby, quickly managing to stow away within supplies aboard Scrooge’s flight.
Nearby, a circus is having the usual financial troubles, with the acts all quitting for failure to make payroll. The dejected owner picks up a newspaper, seeking some nspiration for a new attraction. He too spots the article about the long-tailed gorilla, and sets his sights upon obtaining the same attraction, for his own circus. Enter the Beagle Boys, who just happen to be seeking entertainment in celebration of one of their members’ birthday (viewing a circus as a fitting “cultural event”). Just the muscle the ringmaster needs to accompany him on the expedition. The Beagles are hired for the trip, part of the payment being all the cotton candy they can eat.
Both parties arrive at the jungle. Webby appears from within the supplies as Scrooge and the boys forge on ahead, and she trails behind so as not to be discovered. Her cover is quickly blown, however, when she is surprised by something that Scrooge and the boys fail to see – a dragonfly, which seems as big as a real dragon! Webby runs in panic, catching up to Scrooge and the others. They are shocked at her disobedience of Scrooge’s orders, but have no choice but to take her along – though not believing a word of her fantastic tales of the giant dragonfly. One of the nephews comments that, when you’re as small as Webby, anything would look like a giant. The attention of the group is quickly diverted by the intrusion of four unexpected intruders. From a vantage point above, the ringmaster and Beagle Boys have been observing the expedition. The ringmaster has come prepared to drive Scrooge’s expedition away, providing the Beagles with four gorilla suits. (One of them, while donning the suits, quips, “Hey, hey, we’re the monkeys!”) The Beagles enter snarling, and Scrooge, Bubba, and the boys flee in panic, all in different directions – and all of them again failing to keep track of Webby. Webby begins running along her own path, and attempts to cross a river on stepping stones. She slips, and is quickly caught up in the river current. But another pair of large eyes watches from the shadows of the trees above. Webby approaches a waterfall, and falls over the brink, headed for the bottom. Something huge swoops down on a vine, and catches her in the palm of one hand, swinging to the safety of a clump of trees. It is the long-tailed gorilla. Webby is both grateful but frightened, until she realizes the simian is totally friendly, and means her no harm. She also observes that he does not have the look of a gorilla, but looks and acts just like an ordinary monkey in overgrown proportions. This deduction appears to be correct, as the “gorilla” nods, and the appearance of an oversized butterfly reminds Webby of the dragonfly she had seen – everything seems to be big around here. Webby names the monkey “Mr. Fuzzy”, and asks him how he got so big, and the monkey shows her the concealed pool of an underground spring, indicating his previous drinking from it. The moment is interrupted by the ringmaster and Beagle Boys, who throw a lasso around the monkey. The frightened giant turns and runs, dragging a Beagle behind him, who collides with Webby, knocking her into the pool. As Webby rises from the water, sputtering and coughing from having swallowed some, she gets a funny feeling. In a matter of moments, she grows so large, her head bumps the highest adjacent tree limbs. She remarks that her Granny told her she’d have growth spurts, but nothing like this.
Scrooge, the boys, and Bubba have regrouped, looking for any sign of Webby. Bubba sniffs out a strange trail, leading them to a stampede of giant beetles, which seem to have them cornered, but disperse quickly at the approach of Webby, stomping down trees to clear a path to walk. Webby tells of the water that caused her predicament, but can’t even remember where she left it. Scrooge wastes no time in search for the source, but is more concerned at getting Webby back to the states for professional medical attention. Since Webby will not fit in the McDuck plane, Scrooge tows Webby home, with a rope tied between her waist and the plane’s fuselage, and four large hot air balloons tethered to Webby’s arms and legs to provide lift. Back home, Scrooge obtains the services of a specialist, Dr. Von Swine (who has a personality much like Ludwig Von Drake). After an examination, Scrooge asks what he should do with her. “Have you thought of professional wrestling?”, suggests Swine. Scrooge asks him to use his head, and the Doctor remembers a witch doctor he consulted with once who had a head-shrinkinng formula that would shrink anything. The Witch Doctor, however, is no longer on speaking terms with him, as Swine spilled a drop on the Witch Doctor’s big toe, making it his little toe. But the reliable Junior Woodchuck manual just happens to list the ingredients for such formula, which Swine takes along to mix up in his lab. Unfortunately, the wait is long for the result (as Scrooge paces a troth in the mansion floor). The doctor is missing one ingredient – three hairs from a long-tailed monkey. “You got any organ grinders on you?” the doctor asks.
Webby is having her own adjustment problems. She can’t have any fun in the mansion yard, as her jump-roping causes near-earthquakes. Swimming is out, as one leap into the water emptied the pool. Hide and seek is hopeless. Meals are a problem – 300 happy meals at a sitting. All Scrooge can advise is for Webby to sleep on it, and things will look better in the morning. A huge tent is pitched on the mansion grounds, with Webby provided the largest of big screen TV’s to watch. She sits up at night watching a Godzilla movie, commiserating with the monster as “the poor little thing”. But the film is interrupted by a commercial for Circus Barkus (name play on Circus Vargas), advertising its new stellar attraction – Mr. Fuzzy, still billed as a long-tail gorilla, who has been brought back to the states and caged. Webby rises to the rescue, and disappears into the night. Scrooge and the boys soon discover her disappearance. “Where would a 50-foot lass go at this hour of the night?” queries Scrooge. “Anywhere she wants to”, replies one of the boys in matter-of-factly tone.
Webby shows up at the circus grounds while the ringmaster and Beagles sleep. She quickly locates Mr. Fuzzy, and bends the bars of his cage to release him. But her presence is quickly noticed by his captors – especially, the ringmaster, who sees her with dollar signs in his eyes. He offers Webby candy, and a five-year contract. Mr. Fuzzy, however, scared of recapture, runs from the tent into the city. “Outta my way”, says Webby, pushing the ringmaster aside, and follows Mr. Fuzzy into the heart of Duckburg. The ringmaster and the Beagles vow to bring both of them back. Webby soon finds the simple chimp, licking a billboard advertising bananas. But the townsfolk take notice of both of them, especially the larger Webby, referring to her in panic as “Duckzilla”. The ringmaster and Beagles quickly arrive, causing the monkey to scamper up the town’s tallest building. Webby calls after him, and also climbs the tower, realizing they’re after her, not him. A pastiche of “King Kong” ensues with roles reversed – the girl carrying the monkey at the building top instead of the other way around. Scrooge and the boys follow coverage of TV and arrive at the scene – as does Dr. Swine, who realizes the missing ingredient to the formula is at hand – on the back of the very monkey Webby is carrying. Having no time to call for Launchpad (who is conspicuously absent from this episode), Scrooge himself attempts to fly a company copter, with Swine as passenger with the formula. Meanwhile, the ringmaster and Beagles man a squadron of biplanes to make the Kong similarities complete, in an aerial attempt to lasso Webby and the monkey. Scrooge cuts through, flying in close, with Swine yanking some hairs off the monkey’s back. The ringmaster calls for the Beagles to clip Scrooge’s wings. “A pleasure”, declares one of the Beagles, flicking a switch that engages a giant pair of scissor blades from the underbelly of his plane, taking aim toward the shaft of Scrooge’s helicopter blades. Webby declares that no one messes with her uncle, and gets in a good swat on the ringmaster’s circling plane, which causes it to collide with the planes of the other Beagles. All of them plummet backwards, crash landing in the river. Swine meanwhile grinds the monkey hairs into powder, adding them to his mixture and sprinkling it onto Webby and the monkey from above, just as the pinnacle of the tower begins to crack off. Both of them fall, but shrink during the process, becoming small enough to have their falls broken by a building awning, and landing safely upon the ground, returned to normal. The wet Beagles, in the river with the ringmaster, declare they’ve decided to get out of the monkey business. Scrooge arranges for Mr. Fuzzy to be returned to his home (hopefully without drinking any more of the spring water), and the nephews and Bubba declare they have the entire afternoon left to play together – and never intend to let Webby out of their sight again.
More productions of Disney, and possibly others, next time.
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.
Who ever wrote the subheading to this column “your mileage may vary” hit a home run.
Charles, I am sure you are not being forced to write about Hanna Barbera in a subject of your choosing.
But if you believe it necessary to include them to show the fuller picture, why not simply write a paragraph listing shows and episode titles only, and suggest that they are for somebody else to elaborate on.
Nobody likes to be forced to watch something they don’t like (I don’t either),
as is evidenced by your vitriol to the material and microanalysing story directions taken by the writers.(I too would take out my frustrations by being ready to criticise everything in that situation)
No doubt you will be cheered on by some of the regular commenters on this page who believe the company should have closed in 1966, and that Scooby Doo’s inclusion was a one way ticket to Cartoon Hell for the company.
How about for the future though as a suggestion, only write comprehensively about what you like –
I’m sure you will feel a lot better for it –
and Cartoon Research will not turn into Cartoon Criticism
(there are enough of those websites around)
,
Honestly, there were some silver linings during H-B’s dark period. Besides, I blame the Parent Code more than anything for the disappointing products. They kind of crushed the writers’ spirits.
“Wham! Bam! He’s in a jam!” Oh, that zany Stan Chan….
From the very beginning of this Animation Trail, I’ve noticed a curious absence of the most famous circus march ever written, “Entrance of the Gladiators” by the Austrian bandmaster Julius Fucik (pronounced FU-chik, and be careful how you spell it). Everybody knows this piece, even though they might not know its title or composer; it’s the music that automatically comes to mind whenever one thinks of circuses. I am flabbergasted that in half a year of weekly posts, not a single cartoon has used this iconic march, even though it was written in 1897 and has been in the public domain since before the era of sound films began. But here we are in Part 27, and at long last I finally get to hear “Entrance of the Gladiators” in a cartoon — and, horror of horrors, it’s “Circus of Horrors”! Oh, Fucik….
Just off the top of my head I can think of one series you’ve overlooked, not that I blame you, as hardly anyone remembers it at all. “Devlin” (1974), Hanna-Barbera’s attempt to capitalise on the popularity of daredevil Evel Knievel, was one of the studio’s few dramatic animated series, so at least it mercifully lacked a laugh track. Ernie Devlin was a stunt motorcyclist who worked in a traveling circus, assisted in his act by his younger siblings Tod and Sandy. Tod Devlin, incidentally, was voiced by Micky Dolenz of the Monkees, who as a child starred in the short-lived TV series “Circus Boy”.
When I was a kid, “Devlin” was a show I loved to hate. After every stunt, they showed the same reaction shot of the crowd applauding (“There’s that bald guy again.”) Devlin ‘s name was clearly inspired by Evel Knievel, who was at the height of his popularity then.
I see you already mentioned the Evel Knievel connection. I somehow missed it. My mind had a glitch.
I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about “The Envy Brothers” of “Yogi’s Gang”, a show that was so heavy-handed by educators, that Yogi and friends mostly acted out of character as a result.
“What’s this about a circus?” asks Alan in “Anything You Can Zoo” (Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space, 4/11/72). Josie and the gang have been captured by frog people from the planet Kalex. Their all-powerful ruler, the mighty Throg, makes Melody his personal servant, imprisons the others in his private zoo, and proceeds to plan an invasion of Earth. When Alan (somehow) finds out that Throg will be attending the circus, he concocts a plan of his own: he gets Melody to persuade Throg to hire the band as circus entertainment. In the Kalexian big top, we see a couple of frog acrobats performing on top of, as well as suspended below, a tightrope; another frog bouncing, not on a trampoline, but underneath it; three unfunny frog clowns wearing masks in the likeness of Alexandra, Alexander, and Sebastian the cat; and bareback riders straddling a couple of weird-looking, frog-faced unicorns. While the band is playing, their alien pet Bleep throws a switch, plunging the big top into darkness; and after a funky chase scene, the gang finally manages to escape from the planet Kalex and its amphibian overlord.
In “That’s Show Biz” (The Roman Holidays, 28/10/72), Gus Holiday’s childhood friend Hammus Terrificus is a lion tamer with the Dinglingium Bungus Circus — not the kind of Roman circus where gladiators fight to the death and Christians get thrown to the lions, but a modern-style big top affair with jugglers and whatnot. So when the circus comes to town, Gus takes his wife Laurie, son Happius and daughter Precocia to see the show and renew his acquaintance with his old playmate. When Gus subjects Hammus to their old club’s secret handshake, however, Hammus injures his sacroiliac, leaving him unable to perform. So to keep Hammus from losing his job, Gus offers to take his place in the show, using his own lazy and pampered pet lion Brutus.
It’s showtime, but Brutus is content just to doze in the middle of the arena. Gus threatens to make Brutus sleep outdoors and eat unseasoned food unless he acts ferocious for the audience. These threats rouse Brutus into a fury; he grabs the lion tamer’s whip away from Gus and forces the poor guy to do tricks, much to the crowd’s delight. The act is such a success that Hammus offers Brutus a permanent job in the circus. Brutus is thrilled to have a chance at stardom, until he learns of all the hard work and meagre food that await him, whereupon he turns down a life in show business to remain at home with the Holidays.
Hanna-Barbera’s “The All New Popeye Hour” had a couple of circus episodes.
“Three Ring Ding-a-ling” (23/12/78): Popeye and Olive are acrobats in a circus, where Bluto is the strongman and Wimpy is the ringmaster. Bluto repeatedly tries to sabotage Popeye’s act so he can make time with Olive. Popeye eats his spinach and prevails.
“Popeye’s Aqua Circus” (5/11/79): Popeye and Olive are acrobats (“aquabats”) in a circus act at a marine park, where Bluto is an animal keeper. Bluto repeatedly tries to sabotage Popeye’s act so he can star in the show himself. Popeye eats his spinach and prevails.
“All New”, they call it….
That first one is amusing. it features some muscle-flexing sight gags somewhat reminiscent of Fleischer. HB was striving for a Fleischer feel in these cartoons.
“Unbearable Peevly” (Help! …It’s the Hair Bear Bunch!, 4/12/71): Zookeeper Peevly has been continually frustrated in his attempts to prevent the Hair Bear bunch from leaving the Wonderland Zoo, so he devises a plan: he and his lunkheaded assistant Botch will don bear costumes and infiltrate Hair Bear’s operation to catch them in the act. Hair Bear and his buddies see through the disguises immediately, but they play along with the ruse for laughs. They show Peevly and Botch an escape route they no longer use, a long tunnel that leads to a secluded spot on the woods. Once there, however, Peevly and Botch are captured by a couple of animal trainers from the Rangling Bros. Circus, who have mistaken them for two dancing bears that have escaped.
One might think the Hair Bear bunch would be glad to have Peevly out of their hair; but Hair Bear thinks that if they rescue him and Botch, the zookeeper might offer them certain concessions in matter of food and comfort as part of the bargain. So they sneak into the circus, disguised as clowns. The ringmaster cracks the whip to get Peevly and Botch to dance, but the other dancing bears are furious at them for their inability to follow the choreography. The escaped dancing bears return, attracted by the sound of the music, but the ringmaster decides to keep Peevly and Botch in the act anyway because the crowd thinks they’re funny. Now the Hair Bear bunch comes to the rescue, and Peevly promises them whatever they want if they’ll get him and Botch back to the zoo. So the Hair Bear bunch stuff themselves along with Peevly and Botch — all five of them — into the bore of a cannon, which miraculously shoots them all the way back to their enclosure in the zoo. Once there, however, Peevly immediately reneges on all his promises, and things are back to as they were.
“Big Scare in the Big Top” (Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels, 8/10/77): A mysterious cloaked and masked figure known as the Phantom has been seen lurking around the Bingling Bros. Circus, whose tigers have been disappearing one by one. Cavey and the girls investigate, finding clues like a scrap of tiger fur that, when Dee Dee examines it under a microscope, turns out to be fake. So Taffy and Captain Caveman go undercover in a two-person tiger costume, with Taffy in front and Cavey close behind (I find that particular juxtaposition rather troubling). When the Phantom captures them, Cavey emerges from the costume and chases the Phantom around the big top before ultimately capturing him in turn.
Unmasked, the Phantom is revealed to be the circus owner’s shiftless nephew, who — get this — stole a valuable painting when the circus was on tour in Europe, then smuggled it into the States by draping it over a tiger’s back and concealing it with fake tiger fur. But he did such a good job that he couldn’t tell which tiger had the painting, so he had to disguise himself as the Phantom and steal all the tigers to be sure of getting the right one. (For a shiftless nephew, the guy certainly showed a lot of initiative and drive.) The police have taken the tigers as evidence, leaving the circus without an act. But not to worry: Captain Caveman pulls a menagerie of prehistoric animals out of his body hair and invites Mr. Bingling to take his pick. (You never know what’s hiding in Cavey’s body hair. Maybe even priceless European paintings for all we know.)
“Circus of Horrors” is staring to look pretty good right now.
Captain Caveman returned to the circus in “Clownfoot” (The Flintstone Comedy Show, 22/11/80), one of his later adventures in which he is teamed, not with the Teen Angels, but with Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble, who work as reporters for the Daily Granite. The First Bank of Bedrock has been robbed by the supervillain Clownfoot, a diminutive circus clown with enormous feet, along with his accomplice Sampson the strongman. Wilma, Betty and Cavey investigate the scene of the crime, and Cavey’s crime computer, analysing the clues, tells them to go to the circus. While the ladies go undercover as aerial artists, Cavey searches for the stolen money, ultimately finding it hidden in a circus wagon. But Clownfoot has seen through their ruse; he sabotages the girls’ tandem bicycle so that when they take it on the high wire, it falls apart just as they’re passing over an open cage full of ferocious sabre-toothed tigers. They fall into it, and Clownfoot and Sampson leave them to a grisly fate as they abscond with the money. Cavey rescues Wilma and Betty from the tiger cage and sets off in pursuit of the villains, stopping them by dropping a mammoth onto their getaway wagon. The money is restored, Wilma and Betty have their story, and Cavey resumes his incognito role as Chester, the Daily Granite’s mild-mannered copyboy.
“The Circus Show” (The Flintstone Comedy Hour, 23/9/72): Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm put on a circus to raise money for their high school prom. The Bedrock Rockers sing a number titled “Let’s All Go to the Rock ‘n Roll Circus”.
“Wooly the Great” (The Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm Show, 4/12/71): An experimental shampoo invented by Moonrock gives Pebbles’s pet mammoth Wooly the ability to fly. She enters the little proboscidean in the Major Bones TV Talent Show, which he handily wins. But success goes to Wooly’s head, and he becomes selfish and demanding; and after Fred loses his temper at him, Wooly flies off to parts unknown. Later, Pebbles and her friends see a poster for P. T. Barnstone’s circus, advertising Wooly as its star attraction.
When they find Wooly at the circus, Pebbles apologises and begs him to come home. Wooly wants to go, but Barnstone refuses to release him from his five-year contract. The kids stick around to watch Wooly rehearse his act. It’s impressive, but Moonrock notices that the shampoo is starting to wear off, and by showtime the little mammoth is likely to be totally flightless. So the gang disguise themselves as circus performers in order to be on hand when Wooly needs help. (In an amusing nod to Freleng’s “High Diving Hare”, Moonrock is billed as “Fearless Freeprock”.) More by accident than by design, the kids execute a complicated series of stunts that manages to rescue Wooly from a free fall. Now that Wooly is unable to fly, Barnstone destroys his contract, and Pebbles happily brings her pet mammoth back home.