The Needle's Eye

"This story like a children's tune. It's grown familiar as the moon. So I ride my camel high. And I'm aiming for the needle's eye." - Caedmon's Call

Saturday, July 29, 2006

The Theology of Looney Tunes (part 2)

When we left off last time, I set the stage for the series with a little historical perspective. I hit the Depression Era hard to really emphasize the need for the entertainment of cartoons, alongside vaudeville, radio comedy routines, and movies with similar overtones. The need for distraction was great. Substantial, even. You may think now that the idea of cartoons existing for no other reason than to give us something to laugh at is pretty insignificant, but let me challenge you to think back to those days. Just for a minute. Try to imagine what it was like.

We are human beings. Whether fabulously successful or grime gutter-poor, that is our essence. And being only human, we need to laugh. To find the bright side of things, the silver lining of that cloud in our skyline, the honest hope that no matter how tough life is, we can still smile. Well, stone-cold reality offered us precious few things to smile about in the early 1930s. So is it any wonder why the pure unadulterated fun of cartoons was so readily accepted? No one wants to believe that life is misery. People either get that notion forced into them by means of circumstance, or they see it as the only possible option. Jesus didn't want to endure the pain and suffering of the cross. Who would? Nevertheless, he knew it was his Father's will, the only possible way to rescue us from sin. It's all part of the core essence of humanity, and yet it also plays into the complete and utter paradox Jesus was!

So, getting back to the subject...

We have Warner Bros., minus the talents of Harmon, Ising, and their title character Bosko. With Looney Tunes and (to a lesser extent) Merrie Melodies, they had proven that cartoons were capable of reaching out to a wide spectrum of people, and that their capacity to entertain and help stimulate happy feelings showed how valuable and downright theraputic they could be. Yet they knew (or like most Americans they hoped) that the Depression wouldn't last forever. Eventually the economy would recover. The job market would spring back to life. New venues would open up, grabbing the attention of the populace. It's all part of the mentality of this "what's-new-and-what-have-you-done-lately" world. Yet another "looney" parallel that we can relate to.

Cartoons still had something else to prove. They needed to demonstrate longevity. To show that they were not one-era wonders. That they could survive beyond the Depression, beyond the essential need for some form of entertainment, some reminder that things weren't as crappy as they seemed. But without Bosko, they lacked an anchor character. A symbol. Someone to carry the WB logo (admittedly not as iconic as it would be later on).

Now you know where this is going, I'm sure. But this is where I know I'm about to catch a few of you off guard. But it's very important to know this. It's an oh-so-typical misconception that I now intend to rectify. Here goes:

Daffy Duck came BEFORE Bugs Bunny!!

There, I said it. Feel free to clutch the sides of your face in true Kevin McCallister fashion (just kidding; I would feel bad if I traumatized you that much).

But did Daffy Duck start out exactly like the loveable, hardluck loser that he is today? Oh no. Quite a few things went into his makeup in his formative years, back when he was little more than a twinkle in the eye of Tex Avery.

First, let's consider the character of "Buddy." Who, you ask? Good question. Buddy presently resides in his own private corner of cartoon oblivion. A "forgotten" creation of 1934 when budding (heh) cartoonists Friz Freleng, Bob Clampett, and the aforementioned Tex Avery experimented with some newer cartoon characters to replace Bosko. One problem. Everybody, from the toon critics to Freleng himself, hated Buddy. Couldn't stand him. I suspect that a big factor in the failure of the character to hit it off with his audience was that he was too derivative of Bosko. An example of trying to capture lightning-in-a-bottle twice (well, let's keep perspective: Bosko was a revolutionary, but it's a pretty safe bet that we still would've had cartoons without him). And that simply was not the goal. Looney Tunes needed to get out from under Bosko's shadow, to prove that the medium could manage itself without him. To do this (and do it successfully), they had to try something different. Come up with a totally new set of ideas and rules while still holding firm to the nature of the cartoon media industry: to entertain people.

So Tex Avery rolled up his sleeves, put his pen to work, and brought life to another major yet often understated Looney Tunes character: Porky Pig.

One website describes the 1936 Porky as "a shy, stuttering school kid with a passion for patriotic poems and a lack of pants." Well, the stuttering part hasn't changed, at least (and to the consternation of critics everywhere - Porky generally remains pantsless. Why does this bother people? It's not like Daffy and Bugs made a habit of wearing human clothing, unless it was meant to trick hunters like Elmer Fudd and Yosemite Sam. But I digress). In his early incarnation, Porky wasn't a runaway success, but he brought Looney Tunes at least a modicum of popularity. He also spoke well of the tenuous, battleground climate that existed at the time between the world powers. We were less than five years off from that catastrophic day in December of 1941 when those terrible bombs fell on Pearl Harbor. And the world would never be the same. But that's beyond the scope of this series.

Tex was ambitious, though. Not satisfied with giving voice to the feelings of his time. He was a man who liked to test the boundaries, try new stunts, and explore wild, different directions that weren't always conventional for the entertainment industry. Whether he knew it or not, that was exactly the kind of outlook that cartoons needed to stay in the public eye; otherwise, they may well have joined Buddy in obscurity, replaced by the newest fashion.
At some point, Tex, Friz, and Bob must have realized that Porky wasn't the best fit for their ambitions. At least not the way he had been established. It was time to return to the drawing board. Give them to a new character.

In 1937, it all came together. In the form of the infamous cartoon "Porky's Duck Hunt," that officially introduced Daffy Duck (though he wouldn't be called that until years later). And it's no exaggeration that Daffy was the extra pop, sizzle, and spice that enabled Looney Tunes to emerge from the shadows and find its own identity. Daffy was the living embodiment of unpredictability. You never knew what he might do next. He's everywhere at once, bouncing off the walls, razzing Porky with gags, tricks and rip-roaring laughter. Just watch this cartoon sometime. Listen to the maniacally goofball laughter ("whoop-whoo-hoo-hoo-whoop!") that only Daffy Duck can pull off.

Folks, this was history in the making. If Bosko the Talk-Ink Kid was a pioneer, Daffy was a Renaissance Man... er, Duck. With Daffy, Tex and friends took what made Bosko work and improved it. He had a basic yet easily recognizable design (little black duck, big bright eyes, white ring around the neck) that people latched onto. He broke the fourth wall repeatedly. He defied laws of physics and behavior patterns for both humans and animals. (Animals tend to run and hide from hunters. Daffy fearlessly stood up to Porky and others who hunted him, and laughed in their faces) He drove us nuts because he wouldn't shut up (and yet somehow we never wanted him to shut up. It was too funny). He turned Porky from WB icon into the role of straight-man, a foil for his wild antics (the role that, I'm sorry to say for you Porky fans, he was clearly meant for. Just my opinion). He took chances. He showed no fear. He acknowledged the impossible. He broke down norms. Often with a big mallet or anvil.

Let me sum it up this way: Daffy Duck introduced the element of disorder to the world of Looney Tunes, and by extension the greater entertainment media. And it scored big-time. Because remember: we identify with disorder.

But as the years passed...Daffy changed.

And I'll talk about that change in part 3!

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