Just Dogs

Director: Burt Gillett

Of all the dogs featured in Disney films over the years, only two have stolen my heart. The first, of course, is Pluto. The second is Dug, from Pixar's wonderful Up. Now there's a third -- the little black and white hero of the 1932 short "Just Dogs."


This little guy doesn't have a name. Nor does he have a home, apparently, because he's ended up sharing a cell with Pluto at the pound. But he's a resourceful pup and soon frees Pluto and himself from their cage. Our tiny hero then frees all of the dogs in the pound, digs up a giant bone in the city park across the street and offers to share it with Pluto. To quote Peg from Lady and the Tramp: "What a dog!"

But all is not heartwarming in the world of "Just Dogs." True to its title, the short shows dogs being dogs, both the good and the bad. So there's a lot of unsavory behavior on display, most notably from Pluto himself. Up until the very end, he's pretty rude to the little pup who set him free.

Yet there's still a whole lot of charm to this short. The animators have a lot of fun drawing the different breeds (Special props to the endless weiner dog and the Scotty that uses a washboard to scratch at his fleas), the park and, especially, the pound itself. Watching these old, black and white cartoons, I'm usually amazed at how much the animators could do without the helpful tools of color paint and film stock. In "Just Dogs," they create not only indentifiable dog breeds but a wonderfully detailed world of cages, parks, wood fences and alleyways.

In the end, the short belongs to the namless wonder who only wants Pluto to be his friend. Just look at the way he scampers around Pluto, looking up at him with those big, oval eyes. And how selflessly he frees the other dogs and offers Pluto his bone. And don't get me started on the tiny tongue that sneaks out to take licks at the bone while Pluto hogs it. He's a fantastic character, and Disney should have named him and given him his own series of shorts.

Instead, I'll have to settle for "Just Dogs." I don't rewatch too many shorts after I've reviewed them. There are hundreds of others to watch, and few earn classic status. And while "Just Dogs" doesn't stand up alongside something like "Pluto and Donald," I know I'll be watching again, just to see our little hero save the day one more time.

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Monkey Melodies

Director: Burt Gillett

Hello, everyone, and welcome aboard the world-famous Jungle Cruise. My name is Todd and I'll be your skipper today. Instead of the usual tour of dark and forbidden jungles, we're heading straight for the rainforest, where a 1930 Silly Symphony called "Monkey Melodies" resides.


First up is a group of monkeys dancing around in the trees. Notice how fluid their movements are -- far different from earlier Silly Symphonies. A lot of humor can be found in their tails, which serve as hooks for swinging, coils for bouncing and even musical instruments. Also of note is how well the animators use monkeys of various shapes and sizes, especially the ones near the top of the frame, to suggest a deep and endless jungle.

Speaking of jungles, notice how lush it is here. As you can see, countless varieties of plant life grow in abundance here. The animators do a great job of using a few well-placed treetops to give us a sense of not only depth, but also of height. It's hard to convey the feeling of a rainforest in black and white animation, but the natives at the Disney studio get it done. I know I wouldn't be able to do it, which is probably why I'm a skipper and not an animator. The only things I draw are flies.

Next up are a pair of singing and dancing parrots, most likely escapees from the Enchanted Tiki Room. Lucky ducks, er, I mean parrots. I like parrots but I would have preferred toucans. Why? Because toucan do more than a pair of parrots.

As we move deeper into the jungle, we find the two stars of "Monkey Melodies." This pair of chimpanzees are kind of sweet, even though she's a bit greedy with the bananas. Still, the highlight of our journey is the lengthy scene where they dance across a seemingly endless branch. I love how the silhouettes of tree trunks and vines in the foreground sometimes obscure their progress. It once again conveys a tangle of jungle but also adds a dash of exotic romance to their dance.

Up ahead are either alligators or crocodiles. What's the difference between crocodiles and alligators? The crocodiles are made of ink and the alligators are made with paint. No matter what they're made of, I love how they just keep popping out of the water. It's surprising and a nice change of pace from all the monkeys we've been seeing.

And now we have two crocodiles dancing, vaudeville style. While it's not mentioned in the short, they have names. One is named Ginger. The other is Snaps. And if you appreciate their dancing, feel free to give them a hand.

As we round the bend, we come to the thrilling conclusion of "Monkey Melodies." At first, I was apprehensive about a chase scene involving our two love-struck monkeys and one of the crocodiles. But I came around for three reasons: One, it suggests a continuing shift toward story and narrative, rather than mood. And since their inception, the Silly Symphonies have been mostly about mood. Second, it's very well animated, with some nice, suspenseful scenes of the monkeys above the water and the croc just below. Finally, it gives us a quick, action-packed tour of the rest of the jungle. Notice the hippos, the python and the leopard. You'd think there'd be more of them here in the rainforest, but the short is called "Monkey Melodies," after all.

It all ends well for the monkeys, who close the short by kissing over the water. That means it's time for the most dangerous part of our journey -- your return to civilization and my attempt at docking the boat. I hope you enjoyed your tour of "Monkey Melodies." And if you feel your feet getting wet as you leave the boat, you've probably gone out the wrong side.

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Camping Out

Director: Dave Hand

At some point during this long holiday weekend, I'm sure you'll encounter the one insect that knows how to ruin any fun outdoor activity. I'm talking mosquitoes, folks, and Mickey and his pals encounter a whole army of them while "Camping Out."



The short opens on the idyllic scene of Mickey, Minnie and Horace Horsecollar playing a jaunty tune while on a camping trip. Behind them, Clarabelle frosts a cake. All seems to be right with the world. Little do they know that chaos is about to arrive in the form of a sharp-beaked bug.

What I like about that opening scene, other than the fact that the music is fantastic and the animation flawless, is how we get a quick glimpse of some of the items that will later be used in the battle with the mosquitoes. We don't know that at first, of course, but it shows how the animators were setting up the scene early. It's a nice bit of foreshadowing, and an example of how good the animators were getting at storytelling.

But on to the bugs. The first one arrives and makes Mickey idavertently ruin Clarabelle's cake (Did anyone else feel kind of bad for her at that moment?) before poking his proboscis in Horace's behind. The gang fights back and one thing leads to another until an all-out mosquito war has been declared.

Watching an army of bugs, usually bees, attack is a cartoon staple, and there's a ton of fun to be had in seeing Mickey and his pals fight off this particular troop with whatever they can get their hands on. That means Horace squirting molasses onto the raging mosquitoes before manning the corn on the cob machine gun. (Just typing corn on the cob machine gun makes me smile like a kid on Christmas.) Mickey and Minnie inventively use peas. And Clarabelle? Well, she doesn't have much luck with her flyswatter.

Then it's on to the tent, where our plucky quartet gets the upper hand. Just like the scenes outside, it's a lot of fun to see them use whatever is at their disposal to fight the mosquitoes. And while Clarabelle's clothespin trick is neat, Horace earns a Medal of Honor with his waffle iron armor.

"Camping Out" is one of those unheralded shorts that I discover from time to time while doing this blog. For something that's relatively obscure, it shows quite a lot of growth in story, scope and animation. Something like this couldn't have been done at the studio, say, four years earlier. What's especially neat are the nice character moments that abound in the short, especially where Horace is concerned. I love his confounded look while stomping in the fallen hammock at the beginning of the short, and his frustrated whinny throughout.

As for Mickey and Minnie, they don't shine as much as Horace does. But they sure do show some ingenuity. Besides, would you ever think to stymie a bunch of mosquitoes by shooting peas at them? Didn't think so.

That's all for now. I hope everyone has a safe and happy July Fourth. And next time you see a mosquito, you know what to do. That's right -- corn on the cob machine gun.

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The Shindig

Director: Burt Gillett

Mickey and Minnie play sweet music, get their dance on and blow a few vuvuzelas in "The Shindig," a short from 1930.


A mere two years after "Steamboat Willie," Mickey's cartoon universe had expanded exponentially. It was no longer just he and Minnie. Horace Horsecollar and Clarabelle Cow had joined the fold, along with dozens of lesser-known but frequently seen animal co-horts.

Most all of them are present at the barn dance that makes up the bulk of "The Shindig." Why are they worth mentioning? Well, because they help turn what would otherwise be a dull retread into a lively romp.

There's no real plot to "The Shindig." Mickey and Co. go to a barn dance, play some music and party down. It's nothing we haven't seen before, especially Mickey and his inventive musical skills. What makes the short work is how the barn is teeming with animals who clap, dance and cheer, making it really feel like a party.

I especially like the dancing scenes in which Mickey, Clarabelle and others stomp from one side of the barn to the other, with the crowd first edging into the frame from the right and then from the left. It's a neat visual trick that suggests the dancers really are covering a lot of ground. It also helps that the animation is more fluid than it was in previous efforts. It gives the dance sequences the kick they require.

Also adding a kick or two is the music. It never stops, for one thing, the tempo growing faster and faster as the short progresses. All that piano and fiddle add to the festive atmosphere. Combined with some cute jokes, innocent mischief and a dancing cast of dozens, it turns "The Shindig" into a fun -- if minor -- success.

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The Cold Blooded Penguin

Director: Norman Ferguson

It's still hot as heck in New Jersey right now. I suppose it is most everywhere in the United States, now that we're in the tail end of June. So after doing some errands in the 95-degree heat, I was looking for something to cool me down -- like a Disney short about a penguin who just isn't warm enough.


"The Cold Blooded Penguin" is the opening short to a striking, surreal and borderline crazy film called The Three Caballeros. (In fact, some would strike the borderline part and call the movie certifiably insane.) Released in 1945, it was another one of Disney's package films -- a hodgepodge of animation, music and live action. Its closest cousin is Saludos Amigos from 1943, and while The Three Caballeros is not quite a sequel to that film, they share characters -- including Donald Duck -- and a theme of exploring the exotic worlds South of the Border.

The big difference between the two is that Saludos Amigos is mostly four individual, but loosely connected, shorts. The Three Caballeros has more of a through-line, with the shorts seeping into one another in a kind of madcap kaleidoscope. There are many striking moments in the film, including some gorgeous animated sequences, innovative live-action special effects and the hilarious title song.

Unfortunately, because of this unusual presentation, most of The Three Caballeros can't be broken down into individual shorts -- which means I can't write about them on this blog. But I do recommend checking it out, especially if you're interested in Disney's less-traditional output. Once you do see it, I suggest you next go to the fantastic blog Passport to Dreams Old & New, where you'll find a fascinating and detailed essay on the film.

But back to "The Cold Blooded Penguin," which, sadly, is the least interesting thing about The Three Caballeros. It concerns a penguin named Pedro who can never seem to get warm. While his friends frolic in the snow and ice, he's stuck huddled in his igloo with his trusty coal stove. Then he gets a bright idea -- why stay in the chilly Arctic when he can go to the Galapagos Islands, where it's always warm? The rest of the short focuses on that quest.

The short's secret weapon is the narration by Sterling Holloway, Disney's go-to guy for cuddly voice work. He recounts Pedo's tale with charm, good nature and a bit of dry humor. The short would be poorer without it.

Even with Holloway's contributions, "The Cold Blooded Penguin" is pretty thin. The jokes are soft, the plot is wispy and the animation is wan, especially compared with the vibrant display that makes up the remainder of "The Three Caballeros." In fact, "The Cold Blooded Penguin" bears no relation to the rest of the film, serving mainly as a loose prologue about the seemingly universal desire to leave home and head to a paradise far, far away. It's harmless, really, but also completely unecessary.

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