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One Froggy Evening (1955)
People are overlooking a couple of things here.
One fact being given short shrift is the clear connection between ONE FROGGY EVERNING and The Bulleinkle television show, which debuted a few years after and was heavily influenced by this theatrical animated short. Secondly, even though Mel Blanc had a contract calling for his to be the one and only credited voice of the Looney Tunes, his name and dialog do NOT appear anywhere in conjunction with this cartoon. As to the first point, the main character of this sad saga is tagged with the title of "Michigan J. Frog." Some tilm historians insist that the "J" stands for "jalopy," while others belong to the "Jolson Camp," claiming that this middle initial is a Warner Brothers tribute to the actor who first put their new-fangled "talkies" on the world's map. Of course, such controversy inspired the guerilla cartoonists of The Bullwinkle Show. For the sake of being totally obscure, irreverent and obtuse, they gave BOTH of their main characters the alphabet's 10th letter for a middle name starter, as in "Bullwinkle J. Moose" and "Rocket J. Squirrel."
A Wild Hare (1940)
"Scandalous" is the only word available . . .
. . . to describe The Academy's wrong-headed illogical contrarian decision to overlook A WILD HARE when it came time to recognize the best cartoon of 1940. Anyone can see at a glance that Bugs Bunny is hopping convoluted circles here around the thin plots favored by the wildly overrated Oswald. When it comes to bunniers, Bugs obvioiusly represents the Cat's Meow. Furthermore, we're not talking Jerry here. Though the latter gave rise to the phrase "jerry-rigged" for describing a supposedly honest ballot for which all concerned are well aware that "the fix is in," A WILD HARE stands so far above any of the crude animations of the Twenties and Thirties that it should have won any awards up for grabs totally uncontested, by unaminous consent..
Rhapsody in Rivets (1941)
The music that comes with this cartoon is very . . .
. . . "catchy." While some listeners may consider it to be a little "highbrow" in these days of Liquid Sky and Abba, there are several hummable stanzas of tunes here. RHAPSODY IN RIVETS originally was produced for the Jenny Lind and Bing Crosby crowd, so it would be unfair to expect it to be backed by the strains of Dancing Queen or Sweet Dreams, let alone Hey Jude and We Didn't Start the Fire. RHAPSODY is part and parcel post of the time that it originated, which is why it begins to the strains of Buster Bizet and not Little Richard. Of course, it is always best to view archival footage such as this on a platform that includes readily accessible footnotes.
Peabody's Improbable History: Alfred Nobel (1960)
Mr. Peabody seems to have the knack of . . .
. . . rooting out History's most unsavory characters in order to play Enabler-in-Chief as he aids and abets their Crimes against Humanity. Like most canines, Peabody has a nose for rot, making sure to stir up Trouble wherever he goes. This ALFRED NOBLE detour is par for Mr. P's wayward course of meandering malignancy. In Real Life, Noble was of course the doofus who failed to see the farcical aspect of creating super weapons and then using some of the resulting proceeds from arming warmongers to dole out peace prizes named after himself. This would be akin to the captain of the Titanic surviving to make his fortune shilling ice-making machines.
Peabody's Improbable History: Lord Nelson (1959)
This edition of "Peabody's Improbable HIstory" . . .
. . . explains the backstory behind "the dirtiest place on Earth," a plot of dishonor permanently perpetuating the infamy of one of not-so-Great Britain's Arch Villains, LORD NELSON. This profligate reprobate was eternally pilloried atop "Nelson's Column" in London's Trifling Square, in the hopes that countless generations of soiling pigeons would tarnish Nelson day-in and day-out for All Time. This was due to his many social faux paws, military gaffes and all-around bad behavior. LORD NELSON is right up there with Henry the Eighth, the Earl of Oxford, Mary Queen of Scots, Sir Lancelot, King Richard III, Anne Boylen, Oliver Cromwell, Mordred and Ebenezer Scrooge as the most despised people of English History.
Peabody's Improbable History: Lord Francis Douglas (1961)
Ethical mountain climbers do NOT . . .
. . . litter some of the planet's most pristine landscapes with their careless corpses. Just as marathoners are disqualified if they set a course record for the first half of their 26.2-mile event but buy the farm during the second half and become some form of roadkill, mountain climbers should realize that "What goes up MUST come down," and make sure that they complete their descent in one piece. That's got to be their job #1. Otherwise, slipshod climbers fouling mountains with their lifeless forms need to be vilified as bad examples rather than going down in history for some bogus fatal "achievement." Therefore, Mr. Peabody is quite remiss in not using the rest of LORD FRANCIS DOUGLAS' sordid story as a teaching moment for impressionable tykes. An irresponsible 22-year-old, the little prepared Douglas besmirched the Matterhorn with his mortal remains. If he's remembered at all, it should be with antipathy.
Peabody's Improbable History: Johannes Gutenberg (1962)
Those of us in the journalism biz have a saying . . .
. . . that's usually rendered "All the pants that are fit to print." During this episode of Mr. Peabody's Improbable History, Sherman's talking dog explores the origins of movable type daily newspapers with a husky Prussian dude named JOHANNES GUTENBERG. Unlike the so-called "Desert Fox," J. G. never tried to do in the Fuhrer, due in large part to the fact that he lived many centuries prior to the advent of Hank Ford's disciple. However, Mr. Peabody reveals the kind of slip-shod media pervading the future Axis of Evil then and now, illustrating how easily a majority of citizens can be totally bamboozled by tyrants offering them bread and circuses.
Peabody's Improbable History: Sir Isaac Newton (1962)
As Sam Tayor once remarked . . .
. . . Apples, apples everywhere, and not a drop (of cider) to drink." Mr. Peabody runs into a similar thirsty dilemma with SIR ISAAC NEWTON in this entry of his improbable history series. During this film, young impressionable viewers learn that red delicious can fly, IF they're full of enough buzzing insects. They also discover that if you toss a banana into the air on an urban sidewalk, a Capuchin is sure to intercept it. If Mr. Peabody was as intelligent as he seems to think that he is, he'd suggest that Sir Isaac try a coconut instead of an apple or banana. Coconuts are much more likely to obey the Laws of Gravity than lesser weight fruits.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 11-12 (1963)
The midsection of this vintage television program . . .
. . . includes a "Bullwinkle's Corner" called THE CHERRY TREE. During this part of the show, the talking moose actually climbs up the fruit-bearing title tree, but does not appear to consume any cherries, whether of the sweet or the tart variety. Now, I've never seen a moose, or a whitetail deer or any other antlered critter climb as high as Bullwinkle does into a towering tree. However, I've had some experience with cherry trees. I grew up with two of the tart variety growing in our backyard near the drain field. I did not care to sample their wares until I was in middle school. Once I tasted the small red orbs, I got into the habit of eating a quart or two straight off the tree. Unlike Bullwinkle, I did NOT climb the trees. Instead, I sat on a wooden ladder, seeing how many cherry pits I could lodge on each wooden step.
Rocky and His Friends: Moosylvania Saved: Parts 3-4 (1963)
"Hitchhiking" is just one of the headings . . .
. . . found on the internet for the middle segment of this final television episode closing the original run of "The Bullwinkle Show." Other titles include something about "The Most Economical Way to Travel." Perhaps the most official header is HOW TO BE A HITCH-HIKER. Which reminds me of several stories my granddad mentioned about his days of trying to hail free rides in the 1900's. There was his first successful economical trip in '70, when he helped out his parents with a flat trailer tire about half a dozen miles east of the Grand Canyon Desert View entrance. Later, in '86, he had to walk more than half of the 50-miles plus between Flagstaff and that same Grand Canyon entrance lugging a 50-pound backpack in January. Then there was the time on the way from Lake Superior to a Missouri marathon run when gramps thinks a notorious serial killer took him a few miles down a freeway in Milwaukee. There are many more toll-free tales, but space is short.
Rocky and His Friends: Moosylvania Saved: Parts 1-2 (1963)
After making the ill-fated decision . . .
. . . to Binge Watch ALL 163 episodes of the original run for The Bullwinkle Show in one back-to-back sitting, I'm finding it impossible to keep my eyes open after nearly four days and nights without sleep or the other basics of Life. However, my Moose Marathon Mentor informs me that I just listened to something called HOW TO BE A SUCCESSFUL MEMBER OF THE U. S. PIECE CORE. Back in the 1900's, young men used to roam our Homeland armed solely with diamond-tipped drill bits and the equipment necessary to plunge them downwards hundreds or thousands of feet. Most of these dudes were hired hands, whose only task was to drill up to the surface pieces of rounded stones, reflecting the mineral extraction value of the rock waiting patiently far below for whichever mining concern first found it. My great grandpa was one of these rocky piece core heroes.
Peabody's Improbable History: Lawrence of Arabia (1961)
This film does a disservice to the Oscar-winning . . .
. . . giant of peacemaking in the Middle East, LAWRENCE OF ARABIA. During his mistreatment by "Peabody's Improbable History," Larry is portrayed as a bumbling buffoon, incapable of understanding the basics of espionage and diplomacy. In Real Life, Larry was known as "The Man of 1,000 faces," and when you factor in the data that he was fluent in every Arabic dialect of the desert, the permutations of the disguises at his disposal were virtually endless. Furthermore, he was an expert cartographer, being well aware of how to draw up indisputable territorial maps and borders. However, Mr. Peabody misses the essence of Larry.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 9-10 (1963)
The clocks of Yesteryear are particularly delicate . . .
. . . especially the variety depicted here in Bullwinkle's Corner as MY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK. Visiting my own grandparents' home when I was young, I remember that they also had a vintage device from the 1900's. Their admittedly smaller timekeeper mounted on one of their kitchen walls was called a "cuckoo clock." The apparatus seldom lived up to its name, as the mechanism for it kept clogging inside where the bird supposedly lived. Maybe I saw that hourly chirper during one or two visits, but usually that not so wondrous Bavarian thingamabob rested silent and mute on the wall. At least Bullwinkle's GRANDFATHER CLOCK sees more action in this picture.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 7-8 (1963)
As those of us actually in the business well know . . .
. . . HOW TO DIRECT TEMPERAMENTAL MOVIE STARS requires the wisdom of Job and the patience of Solomon. Embedded within this vintage TV program under the guise of a 92-second "Mr. Know-It-All" segment, HOW TO DIRECT touches lightly upon all of the shenanigans, peccadillos and wrong-headed whims to which the so-called "stars" subject directors, writers, dialect coaches, cast chefs, intimacy coordinators and drape masters alike. Many armorers are sorely tempted to load set peacemakers with live ammo to weed out some of these bad apples. It's said that you cannot make a stew without breaking some eggs, but "break an egg" is the traditional good luck wish first assistant directors offer to the person in charge of the shoot.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 3-4 (1963)
This evening, the internet has been abuzz . . .
. . . with the question of what connection, if any, can viewers draw between this vintage TV program's episode of Bullwinkle's Corner, SIMPLE SIMON, and the astonishing triumph of the Tigers over the Guardians in the second game of their divisional series near Lake Erie. For the only time in The Bullwinkle Show's 163 original airings, the cast and crew attempt to pull off the classic "Who's on First?" baseball comedy routine. Boris Bad-Enough, as the title character, tries to bamboozle Bullwinkle, not unlike the "totally unhittable" Cleveland closer attempting to sneak a second consecutive shutout clinching third strike past the underdog Detroiters' Carpenter. Just as the latter notches a game-winning three-run homer off Mr. Perfect, Bullwinkle gets the last laugh on SIMPLE SIMON by obtaining the free sample of Simon's wares for which he's been asking all along.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 1-2 (1963)
The middle portion of this vintage TV show . . .
. . . labeled as Mr. Know-It-All: HOW TO BE A TOP- FLIGHT STOCK SALESMAN, exposes the sordid under pinning of the American financial system. Bullwinkle J. Moose takes on the role here of a shady stock pitchman, leaving Boris Bad-Enough in the uncharacteristic position of portraying Bullwinkle's victim, rather than being positioned in his usual place as the moose's perennial side thorn. Bullwinkle pretty much ignores his lone client's needs and wishes here, as he touts one misguided market tip after another. The slick-talking moose depicted here would be lucky to sell a refrigerator to a restaurant sweltering in the Deep South.
Rocky and His Friends: Wossamotta U: Parts 5-6 (1963)
If we focus only upon this TV program's middle fifth . . .
... which is that portion named Mr. Know-It-All: HOW TO BUY A USED CAR, viewers will find themselves exposed to one of the more unsavory sectors of the American economy. While not quite as seedy as the tulip bulb cartel, selecting a second-hand automobile has never been a "piece of cake" or a care-free cakewalk for the typical person. Therefore, Rocket J. Squirrel's consternation when his pal Bullwinkle J. Moose emerges from "Honest Boris'" car lot with the titles to 31 vehicles is somewhat misplaced. Rocky should just be thankful that Bullwinkle was not stuck with a fleet of 75 or 100 mostly unusable junk rides.
Rocky and His Friends: Louse on 92nd Street: Parts 1-2 (1963)
Viewers will feel real sorry for . . .
. . . Bullwinkle J. Moose as they watch the middle 90-second segment of this vintage TV show, called Mr. Know-It-All: HOW TO BE A HUMAN FLY. No, this has nothing to do with Mr. Price, or even the remake starring Mr. Goldblum. You see, back in the 1900's, Real Life people constantly were putting themselves in peril by climbing up the sides of tall buildings, sitting on flag poles and walking across the Grand Canyon on tightropes. During this Know-It-All film, America's favorite set of antlers attempts to scale the outer wall of a skyscraper, but the building superintendent turns out to be a real meanie. Too bad for him.
Rocky and His Friends: Louse on 92nd Street: Parts 3-4 (1963)
Not everyone will appreciate the . . .
. . . cigar-chomping wolf featured during the "Bullwinkle's Corner" called THANKSGIVING DAY. This stodgy lupine individual may be over and river and through the woods, but even Granny Clamp It would be sure to turn him away from her door. The snidely irritating tone of this would-be Big Bad Wolf's vocal performance is a good bet to strike many if not most listeners as an affront on par with nails on Waterford crystal. Since no people want their heirloom China shattered into countless shards, perhaps it would be best for America's favorite antler-sporting individual to attack the stogie wielder with a fire extinguisher.
Rocky and His Friends: Louse on 92nd Street: Parts 5-6 (1963)
Back in the Yesteryears of the 1900's . . .
. . . when this TV program's Mr. Know-It-All segment called HOW TO FIX A FLAT AND RETIRE YOUR CAR takes place, people were still trying to adjust from driving horses and buggies to piloting automobiles. The vehicle service protocols being followed for highway travel were geared more toward Pony Express Days than to the reality of the Interstates. As depicted in HOW TO FIX A FLAT, many of these transitional generations were not comfortable leaving their Conestoga wagons behind unless their gasoline-powered auto came equipped with a spare vehicle of some sort. Tire rotation had yet to be invented, so flats came fast and furious. Therefore, this film will make viewers ecstatic that they're lucky enough to be alive in this age of virtually indestructible tires.
Rocky and His Friends: The Weather Lady: Parts 5-6 (1963)
In this TV program, Mr. Know-It-All teaches young . . .
. . . viewers that bullies are bad, especially the mean ones kicking sand on other beach goers. I was at the beach once, trying to hone my skills in the area of situational awareness. This was out in California, at some border burg called La Jolla. The swimming area at which I arrived, largely by chance, seemed to be teeming with bullies. They were parading up and down beside the incoming waves, limbs akimbo, obviously trying with their continuous wild swinging motions to intimidate the other people who were just there to enjoy their day on the Pacific. I felt like yelling that there's a time and place for playing with yoyos. But back then I wasn't the type to TEACH A MEAN BULLY A LESSON AT THE BEACH.
Peabody's Improbable History: Richard the Lion-Hearted (1960)
As this picture points out, there's been Trouble . . .
. . . on that part of the globe called "the Middle East" for hundreds, if not thousands of years. Particularly during the days after a British judge named Pompous Pilot ordered a religious leader to be flogged there, things have slid steadily downhill. It seems people from the British Idols are always cruising around the planet, butting their noses into other people's business and whipping up trouble. Mr. Peabody covers much of this impossible history during this RICHARD THE LION HATED film. He points out that one of the biggest weaknesses the English have when they pick a fight is their addiction to tea. They're continually throwing tea parties when push comes to shove, losing many if not most of their wars that way.
Peabody's Improbable History: John L. Sullivan (1960)
Many heavyweight boxing champs never played . . .
. . . Major League Baseball. Unlike JOHN L. SULLIVAN's Improbable History, Mr. Peabody never made a tribute to Jack Dempsey or Joe Louis, mostly because they did not play big league ball. Max Shelling also was absent from the hot corner, where SULLIVAN hung out, which raises the question: Can you picture the Minnesota Twin's Berlin native Max Kepler doubling as the world's pugilistic heavyweight champ? I'm not sure that Max could garner even the flyweight belt. When it comes to "Improbable History," the Twins could greatly benefit from the infusion of someone fresh such as John L. Sullivan in this crucial final week of the 2024 MLB season, as they try to avoid one of the most catastrophic September collapses in global history.
Peabody's Improbable History: Napoleon (1959)
This improbable history accurately depicts . . .
. . . one of Yesteryear's self-proclaimed "French Emperors" for the villainous buffoon he actually was. Fatally poisoned on a prison island reflecting the squalid circumstances pervading his life, NAPOLEON is rightly revealed here as a consort of pirates, outlaws and scalawags in general. As Ben Franklin keenly observed, "Birds of a feather hang together," and NAPOLEON goes a long way toward expanding upon this aphorism concerning the jailbird milieu. One of History's most forgetful military "leaders," NAPOLEON misplaced his various armies all across Europe. This vain little barnyard rooster fortunately had his crime career cut short by the more civilized parts of the globe.
Peabody's Improbable History: Annie Oakley (1960)
"Forrest Primeval" is the alias used for . . .
. . . actress P. Hearst's grandpa during the True-to-Life Peabody's Improbable History titled ANNIE OAKLEY. This film reveals the thoroughly discredited Hearst scion for the heartless scalawag he actually was, out to commit any and all felonies on the books if he perceived an opportunity to heap 30 more pieces of silver onto his hoarder's mountain of ill-gotten wealth. Therefore, ANNIE OAKLEY was intended to be a clarion call to bulldoze any so-called "castles" bearing the name of this malingering miscreant, rather than perpetuating his memory by means of over-priced tourist traps. Any traces of this arch villain's plundered Empire need to be consigned to the purging flames of eradicating fire, just like his favorite childhood toy, the sled "Rosebud," ANNIE OAKLEY demands.