One Froggy Evening rightly earned the number five spot in Jerry Beck’s 1994 book, The 50 Greatest Cartoons: As Selected by 1,000 Animation Professionals. In the book, film critic Jami Bernard said of the short, “There are only a few enduring silent screen comics who still have impact today, and among them I’d number Chaplin, Keaton, Laurel and Hardy, and Michigan J. Frog.”
High praise and good company indeed. This is still true of the character and director Chuck Jones masterwork of an animated short, One Froggy Evening, which celebrates its 70th anniversary this year.
As the Warner Bros. Merrie Melodies short opens, a construction worker comes across a box while demolishing a building. In it, along with paperwork from when the building was erected is a frog, who leaps out. Lethargic at first, the frog then pulls out a top hat and a cane and begins singing and dancing to, “Hello, Ma Baby.”
Seeing this, the construction worker has visons of how this singing frog can make him rich. He goes to a theatrical talent agent where the frog doesn’t perform. They are thrown out of the agency, and as soon as they are, the frog jumps out of the box, once again with top hat and cane performing “The Michigan Rag.”
The construction worker bolts back into the agent’s office, but when they both come back, the frog has finished singing and sits there with nothing but a gurgling “ribbit.”
They are both thrown out, again, this time into the street, where the frog performs “Come Back to Éireann.” The construction worker then gets another idea – to rent out an empty theater and goes home to get his life savings out from under his mattress (during which the frog sings, “I’m Just Wild About Harry”).
The theater rented, and cleaned up, complete with signs outside, the frog performs “Throw Him Down McClosky,” to an empty house before opening (while balancing on a high wire).
The poor construction worker is able to get an audience by creating a sign that reads: “Free Beer!” However, with the audience in place, the frog begins singing “Won’t You Come Over to My House,” behind a closed curtain, which the worker is unable to raise. When he eventually does, the frog stops singing.
Broke, the construction worker sits on a park bench, with the frog next to him singing “Largo al factotum,” from The Barber of Seville. A police officer comes over, when he hears the singing, at which point the frog has stopped, and when the construction worker points to the frog in blame, it lands him in a “Psychopathic Hospital.”
In his cell, the construction worker sits there, while the frog sings “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone.” Back out in the world after this release, the beaten worker spots a building under construction and quickly deposits the box with the frog in a cornerstone and runs away.
We then flash-forward to 2056 A.D., with a futuristic demolition team disintegrating the same building. A construction worker comes across the box with the singing frog and begins having visions of dollar signs. As the short ends, this construction worker is sneaking off with the box, as the saga starts over again.
• To view the complete film – buy it on blu ray on Looney Tunes Platinum Collection, Volume 1
Here is the first two minutes and 40 seconds:
The brilliance of One Froggy Evening, written by Michael Maltese, is how it is told with no dialogue (except for the frog’s singing, from William “Bill” Roberts). Animation in the short, provided by Abe Levitow, Richard Thompson, Ken Harris and Ben Washam, among others, ranges from the subtle (like the construction workers side glances) to overly expressive (each time the frog performs), all of it perfectly underlining the humor.
In his book, Chuck Reducks, Jones wrote about the choice to make the short without dialogue: “Early storyboards of One Froggy Evening included talking characters, but that just didn’t work. There was no dialogue in the completed film; The only audible voice is the frog’s. Having eliminated all dialogue, I finally realized how I wanted to tell the story. Imposing that discipline on myself made my work tougher, but it helped me pare away the fat to reach the essence of the film, which is that a man discovers a frog who can sing but will not sing in front of anyone else.”
The frog never had a name originally. For the “Coming Attractions” sequence on the 1960 ABC-Network prime time Bugs Bunny Show the amphibian was christened “Enrico”. Jones would later officially name the main character Michigan J. Frog (after the song “The Michigan Rag,” which was written for the short by Milt Franklyn, Maltese and Jones). Michigan would famously become one of the breakout stars of Warner Bros cartoon canon.
He would also later emerge as a major part of pop culture, in 1995, as the mascot of The WB Network and would return in the sequel, Another Froggy Evening, which was produced the same year.
Although a stand-alone short subject, the popularity of and appreciation for One Froggy Evening has continued to grow in the seventy years since its initial release on New Year’s Eve of 1955. In his book, That’s All Folks: The Art of Warner Bros. Animation author Steven Schneider noted what’s behind the appeal of the short: “Magnificently funny, the wildly acclaimed One Froggy Evening says things about the power of greed and hooks up with Jones’ Road Runner films in looking at the mechanics of self-defeat.”
In 1973 film critic Jay Cocks interviewed Chuck Jones for Time magazine (after the interview, Jones added the “J.” to Michigan’s name in honor of Cocks). In his article, Cocks summed up succinctly why One Froggy Evening is still part of animated discussions seven decades later, writing that the short “…comes as close as any cartoon ever has to perfection.”
Michael Lyons is a freelance writer, specializing in film, television, and pop culture. He is the author of the book, Drawn to Greatness: Disney’s Animation Renaissance, which chronicles the amazing growth at the Disney animation studio in the 1990s. In addition to Animation Scoop and Cartoon Research, he has contributed to Remind Magazine, Cinefantastique, Animation World Network and Disney Magazine. He also writes a blog, Screen Saver: A Retro Review of TV Shows and Movies of Yesteryear and his interviews with a number of animation legends have been featured in several volumes of the books, Walt’s People. You can visit Michael’s web site Words From Lyons at: 
Here, once again, we have a classic Warner Bros. cartoon — a universally acclaimed masterpiece, one of the greatest ever made — that Eddie Selzer nevertheless did not think was worth submitting to the Academy for consideration. Instead, he submitted “Speedy Gonzales”, which went on to win.
Perhaps we should count our blessings. If “One Froggy Evening” had won the Academy Award for Best Animated Short of 1955 — which, as the best animated short of 1955, it by all rights should have — then Speedy Gonzales might be a fondly remembered one-shot character like Pete Puma, while the singing frog might have gone on to star in his own series of cartoons, every single one of which, we may safely assume, would have fallen short of the original in quality by a wide margin. Kids watching the Bugs Bunny Road Runner Hour on Saturday mornings would have moaned: “Oh, no! Not another one with that stupid singing frog!” and gone outside to play. By the 1960s, the frog would have been teamed up with Daffy Duck, who would no doubt manage its singing career much as he had for Sleepy Lagoon in “Yankee Doodle Daffy”.
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“Hey Chuck, I was just congratulating Friz on winning the Oscar for that cartoon about the singing frog, and he told me you made it.”
“That’s right, I did.”
“Oh. Well, get ready to make another one. Now that we know the frog’s Oscar material, we’re going to want a whole series of them.”
“What? How am I supposed to do that?”
“You’re asking me?”
“No, what I mean is, the frog only sings for the man who discovers it. It won’t sing for anyone else, and so the man loses everything while pursuing his dreams of fame and fortune. That’s the only story possible. Another cartoon would just be the same thing all over again.”
“So what? You’ve made about a hundred of those cartoons about the dog who chases that ostrich around in the desert. They’re all the same, and no one cares.”
“But those –”
“Listen, Chuck, do I have to do all your thinking for you? Just make the cartoon. If you feel like doing something different, go ahead. Make a chase out of it if you want. Have the singing frog get chased by, oh, I don’t know, a bird.”
“A bird?”
“Sure, why not? If a dog can chase a bird, a bird can chase a frog. You know, one of those big birds that eats frogs.”
“A heron?”
“No, not that. One of those birds with long legs that stands in the pond and eats frogs.”
“An egret?”
“No! Come on, Chuck, you must know what I mean. You’re a smart guy. You’ve read Mark Twain and everything.”
“If you’re referring to ‘The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County’, the only birds in that story are the fighting cocks Jim Smiley bets on, and they’re only mentioned in passing. They don’t chase the frog.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?
Look, it’s simple. The frog sings, right? Then the bird comes along and tries to eat it. You know the kind I mean. They’re pink, and people have statues of them on their lawns.”
“Are you thinking of a flamingo?”
“Yes! That’s it! A flamingo! I can’t believe it took you so long to come up with that.”
“But Eddie, flamingos don’t eat frogs. They eat brine shrimp in tidal pools whose hypersalinity precludes the presence of amphibian aquafauna.”
“Just shut up and make the damn cartoon, okay, Chuck?”
“Oh, no! Not another crappy cartoon with that stupid singing frog! Why don’t they ever show the one with that Mexican mouse any more?”
Certainly an unnerving alternate history you propose there, Paul! To imagine Speedy as twice-burned also-ran (keeping in mind McKimson’s original short with him in 1953 before Friz took over) and a circa 1962 short with ‘the singing frog again!’
A footnote that comes to mind reading this today is how when this short was included in the 1982 compilation film ‘Bugs Bunny’s Third Movie: 1001 Rabbit Tales’ they reworked the opening to have an truck-in establishing shot of the 1890s building being demolished surrounded by skyscrapers. It looked like they’d gone to the trouble of actually making the shot look like something Philip DeGuard might have created back in 1955, to the extent that I almost thought Friz had found some unused material from that period!
Thanks, David! You’re right, I didn’t think it through; I’d forgotten that “Speedy” wasn’t Speedy’s debut!
Great incursion on cartoon history. I can visualize it as a little short. As it depends on dialogue, I imagine the thing directed by McKimson (with a looking-to-camera “Yeetch” as an ending note by “Jones”).
Geez, I’m getting sick of people riffing on that part from some of McKimson’s shorts. I always found that funny, to be honest.
Nothing on the contrary! I find that funny too.
Muchas gracias, Tío Lucas!
This is really funny, good stuff.
I suppose in defense of Selzer and the studio, they did submit SOME all time masterpieces to no avail. I guess this one just slipped through the cracks. Hind-sight is always 50-50, and Freleng clearly had seniority when it came to Oscar submissions more often than not.
Here’s what I’m curious about- why didn’t the studio submit the same amount of cartoons every year? At least in the 50s it ranged between 1-3 in any given year. I have a feeling the Academy dictated the amount every season. Why on earth they allowed Famous to submit 4-5 on a yearly basis I will probably never know.
Thank you, Haden! It’s true that some Warner Bros. masterpieces like “Duck Amuck” and “What’s Opera, Doc?” were submitted but not nominated, so the Academy itself bears some culpability for the studio’s lacklustre record at the Oscars. Also, in Selzer’s defence, the release of “One Froggy Evening” at the tail end of the calendar year may have put it at a disadvantage in the nominating process. My main point here, beyond just having a bit of fun, is that an Oscar win or nomination can influence a studio’s subsequent creative decisions, and not necessarily for the better.
I know nothing about the Academy’s past or current rules governing submissions, but I strongly recommend Jerry Beck’s excellent series of posts on “Cartoons Considered For An Academy Award”, in which many Warner Bros. classics, like “One Froggy Evening”, are conspicuous by their absence.
For all his accolades, Chuck Jones could have never created many of his very best cartoons (and characters) without writer Mike Maltese. It’s a crime Mike’s name is not as well-known as Chuck’s. He deserves much more credit for the countless classic Looney Tunes and Hanna-Barbera shorts he authored.
Maltese received the Winsor McCay Award (for lifetime achievement – along with Hugh Harman, Rudy Ising, George Pal, Ward Kimball, and, posthumously, Bobe Cannon) during the 5th annual Annie Awards in 1976. I feel like that was well-deserved credit.
Well said Dave. I do agree, it’s crazy that whenever we talk about Jones, Maltese never gets the credit he deserves. It’s blasphemy I tells ya!
Back when he was a network mascot, they had a walk-around version who appeared in person at San Jose’s Christmas parade. His face, which covered most of his body, was molded in open-mouthed singing pose and he had limited arm movement. A chipper young lady from the local station was there with a microphone, trying to get him to say something.
That is quite funny. I hope he stayed in character and said nothing when expected to perform.
There are at least three film kinescope clips on YouTube with “Hello Ma Baby” writer and vaudeville performer Joe Howard via the Ed Sullivan Show … Howard was in his eighties when he did his turns on Sullivan in the 1950s.
That cartoon is more serious than humorous, but even as a kid in the 1960s, I always loved it.
Many years ago, when I was in a college Film class, I had the great pleasure of seeing Chuck Jones in person at the school auditorium (Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, Ca).
This was, and is, a fine venue for both movies and lectures, and Chuck talked to the audience about his career for about half an hour, then took questions for a few minutes. I don’t remember much of what he said, but in mentioning that he’d worked for Ub Iwerks, he quipped, “Iwerks spelled sideways is ‘Skrewi.’ This got a major laugh, and his very dry sense of humor was exactly what one might have expected.
He also revealed that “The Michigan Rag” is an original composition by Mike Maltese. Which surprised me, because all of the other tunes are the genuine article, straight from the Ragtime era. For example, “Won’t You Come Over To My House” dates from around 1900, way back in the Edison cylinder days, and it was originally performed as a slow, mournful ballad rather than the snappy up-tempo number that it is in the cartoon. I’ve heard that version, sung by a woman whose name I forget at the moment. Mr. Edison loved sentimental ballads, but ragtime? Not so much.
Needless to say, Chuck then proceeded to show eight of his best Looney Tunes, including of course “One Froggy Evening” and “What’s Opera, Doc?” There was also a more obscure one that’s a real charmer, called “Much Ado About Nuttin,'” starring a cute little squirrel who becomes a modern Sisyphus, trying to handle a nut that’s too big for him.
So that was an evening that I could tell my grandchildren about— too bad that I haven’t got any!
I got to meet Mr. Jones while getting Chuck Amuck signed, and then later at his gallery. I’d love to know which of his other cartoons he chose. I have a large soft spot for “Feed the Kitty,” especially one of our two cats is a tuxedo kitty!
I’ve heard it said, “If “The Twilight Zone” had been on TV then, and Rod Serling had asked Chuck Jones to make an episode, this would have been it.”