The Theology of Looney Tunes (part 1)
Let me also warn you not to take this series very seriously. Yes, there's a theological point I will try to make. It has some history, and it has pictures to dress it up. But plenty of it is sheer conjecture and opinion on my behalf. So don't base any conclusions off of that, and try to read it with a healthy sense of humor. Thank you. And away we go!
We live in a crazy world. I think that's a common sentiment nowadays. Things are nutty. Kooky.
Maybe a little looney.
You're welcome to take that introduction any way you prefer. But I think it works. Mostly, I said it that way to freak you out but there's a grain of truth in this crazy, mixed-up mess. There's sense to be seen in the looney bin.
We can sympathize with the disorder. We know the imperfect. We are a part of it.
The year was 1930. America was still firmly in the grip of the Great Depression. A period that, for all the bedlam and damage it did to the economy, left its most lasting scars on the face of nationalism. The world recognized the United States as a superpower country, renowed for our military strength, stability, and solvency. The latter took a severe blow with the stock market crash, and the effect was immediate. People had investments, life savings in the stocks, and in one fell swoop, they all came tumbling down. The curtain dropped on margin buying as well as the security of the bank system. People lost faith in the Federal Reserve. Morale was the pits. Disorder reigned.
And in the midst of the chaos, a media symbol was born.
Cartoons.
The very first Looney Tunes cartoon debuted in April 1930 in the form of an eight-minute musical titled "Sinkin' in the Bathtub." A modest beginning (as you can see by the picture) for the financial juggernaut it would become later on, but hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere.
Before I go on, I'm well aware that "Gertie the Dinosaur," Windsor McCay's 1914 creation, is widely considered to be the first true animated featurette in the United States. I prefer to stick to one of animation's many mediums, in this case, Looney Tunes & Merry Melodies, for the purposes of this argument. But I'll give props where props are due.
Anyway, two characters featured in this landmark shortie: Bosko and Honey. Bosko the Talk-Ink Kid (get it?) was among the first cartoon characters to employ synchronized speech; up to this point, animation didn't match soundtracks with the action of a serial or short film. Until Bosko and his girlfriend Honey arrived. Animator Leon Schlesinger liked the character and petitioned the fledgling Warner Brothers company to produce more Bosko shorties. They even gave them a title - "Looney Tunes." Little did they know that they were pioneering a legacy.
Looney Tunes ran for about a year before a second branch was created - "Merrie Melodies." But for whatever reason, this spin-off of sorts didn't go over as well. Some blame it on the Walt Disney rip-off characters (Foxy and Roxy being the worst offenders). Others point to the uninspired context of the new shorts (being more of a song showcase than a long-running serial - hence the name) or the lack of direction. Continuity, the all-important measuring stick for successful drama, and substance simply weren't there. Music was the only connecting thread.
Even still, cartoons' purpose was never more pronounced than during the Depression Era. Having lost faith in all that was once solvent in their lives, people forgot how to be happy. Success was history. Suddenly, you were a lucky chap to find a decent job. Black Thursday hit Americans in more than stocks - it rocked their foundations. They had to look elsewhere to find happiness and fullfillment if only for a short time, and what better venue than the entertainment industry? Bosko, Honey, Foxy, Roxy, Piggy, Fluffy, and Goopy Gear (other forgotten Merrie Melodies characters) made people laugh again. They put smiles back on faces - even if those smiles evaporated once the entertainment was over and reality beckoned. Cartoons joined the likes of Jack Benny, George Burns, radio comedy shows, The Wizard of Oz, and Gone With the Wind in providing an outlet for self-satisfaction.
Ask yourself - how familiar does that sound? When you have problems in your life (money, relationships, exams, etc.), does the thought of putting those problems aside to watch a fictional character's plight not sound relieving? As a young boy, I took heart in the fact that the demons of long division or an empty social life could be shelved for one hour of Daffy Duck, Porky Pig and the gang chasing each other, falling off cliffs, and blowing themselves to smithereens. Sure, it was mindless entertainment. It's also soul therapy. Somewhere deep down, a part of you realizes that you're not alone. Disorder is an all-encompassing tapestry. It's not something lurking on your TV set that comes to life and then ceases at the touch of a button. It's a part of the world we inhabit. Cartoons gave it a medium. A vent for our seeming inability to live with it. To react to it. Even to reach out and improve it somehow.
Getting back to the history lesson...as the Depression years waned, cartoons began to undergo a hefty gear shift. Hugh Harmon and Rudolf Ising, creators of Bosko and co., broke ties with Leon Schlesinger, took the rights to their characters, and made a beeline for MGM, seeking to bring their work to a newer, brighter stage. However, the era of the Looney Tunes was not to die with them. The remaining staff at Warner Bros. faced some difficult years ahead, though. They had no direction. They had no title character to carry the company. Or the cartoons.
... that is, until a certain wise-cracking, off-the-wall, little black duck came along.
But that's a story for next time! :)
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