REVIEW: Looney Tunes Collector’s Vault Vol. 2
Since the first animated short in 1929, the Looney Tunes brand has signified creative genius and unusual freedom for its animators, who were not required to follow the vision of one man: Walt Disney. Instead, producer Leon Schlesinger oversaw a long run of entertaining eight-minute cartoons that introduced a stressed nation to live-wire characters, beginning with Porky Pig, Daffy Duck, and, of course, Bugs Bunny.
As a child of the 1960s, I was raised with the Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons on constant rotation, mainly on WNEW. They ran at all hours, it seemed, and then even more could be found on Saturday morning cartoons. By the time I was old enough to go to the movies, animated short features had mostly been discontinued, so I never got to see them in their intended environment.
When I was raising my children, there was a movement against violence and chaos in animated fare, with some worried about imitative behavior. I saw nothing wrong with exposing my kids to the shorts I grew up on, and they turned out just fine. But they have practically disappeared from cable and are relegated to various streaming services. One would think Max would celebrate hosting these cultural treasures, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
As a video collector, few things have irked me more than the lack of a definitive collection of Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies, either by character, director, or era. As a result, they have been packaged and repackaged in numerous ways, none of which has them all. So, the best thing about the newly begun Looney Tunes Collector’s Vault is that dozens of these cartoons are coming to Blu-ray for the first time.
Volume One was released last year with 50 shorts, 24 of which had never been remastered for DVD or Blu-ray. Volume Two was delayed as Warner Archive focused instead on Tom and Jerry: The Golden Era Anthology, but it is finally being released on March 24. Disc one offers up 26 never-before-remastered on DVD or Blu-ray, and the second disc has 25 making their Blu-ray debut. All of this is cause for celebration.
Each disc is a hodgepodge of characters and eras, organized alphabetically. Neither disc offers a single Special Feature, which is a disappointment. It does offer audio commentaries, from previous editions, on selected shorts.
What you do get, though, are shorts directed by Chuck Jones, Friz Freleng, Robert McKimson, Tex Avery, Maurice Noble, Norman McCabe, Phil Monroe, Hawley Pratt, Frank Tashlin, and Richard Thompson, with Mel Blanc’s vocalizations, and music from Norman Spencer, Carl Stalling, Milt Franklyn, and William Lava.
The packaging warns us that the content is “intended for the Adult Collector and May Not Be Suitable for Children.” The discs remind us that they represent attitudes and stereotypes specific to their time and do not reflect contemporary attitudes.
With the ass covering out of the way, you can settle back to healthy doses of Bugs, Daffy, Porky, Sylvester, Foghorn Leghorn, Tweety, Ralph & Sam, Coyote & Road Runner, Speedy Gonzales, and Pepe Le Pew. There is a sprinkling of shorts with unique characters such as “Bone Sweet Bone” featuring the dog Shep (not the same Shep as seen in other cartoons), Conrad Cat, Spike and Chester, and several Goofy Gophers.
Rewatching these was an interesting experience because some evoked memories, assuring me I had seen them before, while others felt brand new to me. The earliest is from 1935, and the latest is 1963, so you can see characters evolve along with art direction, and the ever-limited animation to fight the budget. I remain a fan of the earlier works, thinking the 50s and 60s shorts get overly stylized, looking locked in a time and place, rather than the more universal look of the first decade or so.
The all-new-to-Blu-ray disc opens with 1948’s “A-Lad-In His Lamp,” a Bugs Bunny feature from McKimson, and features a funny take on the genie.
You can see those changes as you move into the 1950s, such as the spy caper “Boston Quackie” (1957), a Daffy and Porky satire reflecting Cold War tensions. Most definitely recall their era, sometimes requiring footnotes for context, such as “Boulevardier from the Bronx” (1936), which parodies baseball’s Dizzy Dean and Babe Ruth. (The cartoon is noteworthy as being the first to use “Merrily We Roll Along”, as well as the blue color rings and a blue WB Shield in the opening titles.)
Conrad the Cat arrives in “The Bird Came C.O.D.” (1942), the first of the three shorts to use the short-lived character. Another first is “Dr. Jekyll’s Hide” (1954), the first of three that Frend borrowed from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And we get to hear Sylvester speak for the first time in “I Taw a Putty Tat” (1948), using Tweety’s well-known phrase (also a remake of 1943’s ”Puss n’ Booty”.) We also get the first “Little Blabbermouse” cartoon, the last one written by Ben Hardaway, who left to write for Walter Latz. The character was another short-lived creation, although this one featured caricatures of popular celebrities W.C. Fields, Jerry Colonna, Marian Jordan, and even George Washington.
Another departure seen here is that of Milt Franklyn, who died shortly after completing “Mother was a Rooster” in 1962. He began with Stalling and then succeeded him as music director in 1954. He was scoring a Tweety cartoon at the time of his death, so this is his final full score.
It’s also clear that gags get repeated, as do some of the backgrounds, and they don’t always stick the landing, but more or less end after the antagonist has received their comeuppance. That said, incredible visual inventiveness is required for the mostly silent Ralph, Sam, and Road Runner cartoons. You know what’s coming, but laugh anyway because the setups and payoffs are just so funny. You also see inventive pairings such as the Gophers vs. Elmer Fudd, which creatively challenge the animators and refresh the characters.
Having these restorations almost makes up for the lack of a complete library, and they are well worth repeat viewing.
