Wednesday, 26 April 2017

SNAFU: The Infantry Blues (1943)

Director: Chuck Jones.
Release date: September 1943.
Voices: Mel Blanc (Private Snafu / Technical Fairy).
Music: Carl Stalling.
Sound: Treg Brown.

Synopsis: As Private Snafu complains about being assigned to infantry. With help from the Technical Fairy, Snafu's new duties such as fleet or tank duty turn out to have different kinds of challenges.

Grumbling and complaining about his war duties - wasn't it a one time formula on Gripes or The Goldbrick? Quite the contrary. One of Private Snafu's characteristic traits involves dissatisfaction and little understanding of the importance of duty - especially in a time of war. As mentioned beforehand, Snafu is a key example of not only showing incompetence whenever training or in combat; but also his lack of understanding on the army.

The Infantry Blues is another Snafu cartoon that's part of the assembly line on griping Snafu shorts. Snafu expresses desire for change - with the Technical Fairy to respond to his wishes. Snafu experiences his impractical fantasy that eventually leads to disaster.

This short, on the other hand takes a slightly different turn on Snafu's mistakes that becomes a nice change for the Snafu series. Chuck Jones has the highest output for Snafu cartoon than any other Warners director and yet he provides his versatility in this Snafu short alongside his regular Warner Bros. work.

In my previous review on The Goldbrick, I spoke very highly of Frank Tashlin's understanding of shot composition and colour. Chuck Jones' dynamic ideas on Snafu's opening exposition are on par with Tashlin's creativity. For example, the opening shot of an assembly line of soldiers marching features strong silhouette. The silhouette of Snafu struggling behind, reads clearly by contrasting fit soldiers against sleazy Snafu.

The camera trucks in on Snafu's slumpy walk - followed by a double-exposed shadow of Snafu's enlarged face, expressing resent towards his physical duties. Not only is the layout compelling in visual style; but it's an unorthodox portrayal of expressing emotion and melancholy in Snafu.

Theodore Geisel's use of wit and rhyme works alongside his frustrations as said: "Oh, the air force gets the glory an' the Navy gets the cheers. /  But all the dogface ever gets is mud behind ears."

Snafu's complaints are dragged out in an entertaining montage of the private's journey travelling through walls of snow, and treacherous jungles. In one gag, Snafu walks past a steep river, but comes out inside a crocodile's belly. While the gag itself has been used several times in animated shorts (Major Lied Till Dawn comes to mind); it's a funny portrayal on the burden Snafu has to suffer from being "dogface" - a military slang for a U.S. foot soldier during World War II. Although Snafu has griped previously on duty - he complaining about the disdain he feels about infantry; in contrast to the navy or the air force; which he sees as more honourable positions.

Once Snafu discovers that the nearest rest room happens to be a 18,000 mile trek - Snafu immediately expresses desire to change his army duties to the tank corp. Why would Snafu wait another 18,000 mile while he has an opportunity to use an empty pathway as a toilet? Perhaps Snafu's too stupid to think that way.

So, the Technical Fairy appears and answers to Snafu's wish to switch corps. The Fairy's incantation is a pretty amusing parody of the Sold American jingle, which finishes with: "Sold to the tank corp." The fairy shouts out the spell each time Snafu wishes to change corps throughout the short. It also works as a nice little personal touch from the Schlesinger studio.

Snafu's first exposure with the tank corps allows Chuck the opportunity to go broad with his comic timing and posing. To start off, Snafu expresses satisfaction of his tank riding through a smooth trail. Unbeknownst to Snafu, the tank jumps across treachery rocks causing him to bump vigorously inside the tank.

A close-up of Snafu reveals his eyes jumping all over the upper half of face - which is surprisingly very broad of Chuck Jones. The gag is then topped with more hilariously executed bumping action on Snafu.

It's an example on how Chuck had improved so much in achieving better comedy, and showing the ability to explore broader gags. I can't imagine him allowing a shot like that pass in a lavish Sniffles cartoon, only a few years earlier.

The military tank shots are wonderfully executed too, not just in timing but in animated form. Animating vehicles is a challenge; but to see squash and stretch applies to the tank skidding to the edge of a cliff, and balancing perilously at the edge creates a beautiful result. The layout work of Snafu climbing out of the cannon, and hopelessly holding onto the edge is great in capturing perspective. Unimpressed by the dangerous duties of the tank corp, the Technical Fairy arrives to reassign Snafu to the navy.

Once again - Snafu expresses further satisfaction towards the navy, as said: "Heave ho, me hearties - you're home for the open sea / This is twice as easy as the poor old infantry." And so, Snafu underestimates the burden of being a navy sailor. War-time threats for the navy like Kamikaze pilots or torpedo submarines are deliberately left out - while the perilous aspects are focused on nature.

Snafu experiences another bumpy ride as his vessel skimps across choppy waves. This leads to Snafu being washed out of the ship, and water-skiing by standing on a pair of fish. The sequence largely consists of effects animation, which is more ambitious than character animation. The effects work such as water, are effective enough to enhance the dangers of naval services.

Dr. Seuss cleverly inserts a pun of Snafu shouting, "Give me air!", after coughing up sea water - once again dismissing the notion of working in the navy. At the arrival of the Technical Fairy - Snafu is once again reassigned to the air corp.

Based on his previous discomfort with the tank corp and the navy; Snafu establishes his own comfort flying an airplane - which he considers "the softest job of all." However, Snafu's incompetence makes the air corp a very difficult for him. He drives the plane  with great speed - to the point where he travels above Earth, beyond his control.

The sequence calls for some daring layout work, such as the use of vertical pans as well as a close-up of Snafu's plane turning upside down. Jones' use of fast-cutting also works effectively in creating the atmosphere of fear from Snafu's perspective.

Like the tank gag; Chuck's unit effortlessly pull of animated gags such as the plane twisting into knots, and unwinding itself. Snafu's plane leads him to fall back to Earth, and crashing onto the summit of a pointy mountain. Snafu falls off his damaged aircraft, and lands right back to where he was originally: a 18'000 mile restroom sign.

With the return of the Technical Fairy; Snafu has a change of opinion, and he reforms back into his infantry duty. Snafu's morale has proven that all wartime services have their own difficulties - however different they may be. And so, Snafu happily marches on; marching with pride to the service he feels fit for.

While we're used to watching Snafu end up in tragedy from his mistakes; this is a rare occurrence of Snafu learning from his errors without proving fatal. The short ends on a more light-hearted approach compared to the dark comedy that's set around the Snafu series - which is a nice change. It's one of a few occurrences where a light-hearted ending in a Snafu cartoon is actually called for.

The Infantry Blues is not only built on a solid morale; but it's also a clear presentation on how each military service having their own individual hardships. Snafu experiences each perils; and is given the chance to change his mind before it's too late. Not only does Chuck Jones pull it off comedically; but also ambitiously. The perils and hazards are done justice through inventive layouts, and Jones' timing. It's still astounding to see how Chuck could still produce high quality material, despite the Snafu shorts being extra credit to their schedule.

Sinkin' in the Bathtub revisited...

I've completely revised the first Looney Tune cartoon, Sinkin' in the Bathtub, which you can now view here. I'm hoping to improve the quality of my very old posts, to keep it up to standards - alongside my current reviews, of course. I've been wanting to do this for quite some time. Further reasons are explained in the post.

Sunday, 23 April 2017

SNAFU: The Goldbrick (1943)

Director: Frank Tashlin.
Release date: September 1943.
Starring: Mel Blanc (Snafu / Goldie the Goldbrick).
Music: Carl Stalling.
Sound: Treg Brown.

Synopsis: Fed up of his daily routine - a fairy appears and encourages Snafu to goldbrick from his duties.

Animation by Cal Dalton.
Like Gripes, this short is based primarily on the importance on army duties. While Snafu previously griped about army training by wishing to change the system - here, his desires are to simply avoid his duties lazily. Snafu is a solid representation of army soldiers who don't fully understand the purpose of war duties - making him homesick of comfort and luxury.

The short's opening scene briskly but clearly represents his loathing for duties. The scene opens with a peaceful Snafu snoring away in his bed - complete with a visual gag of Snafu's snores blowing up a pinup poster of a woman's dress, revealing her blouse. An unseen cadet blows his bugle into Snafu's ear - awakening him with force and disturbance.

Awake, Snafu complains "Another day, nuts! If I could only get out of drill." At this moment, a drill fairy puffs into appearance, but bears a chunkier resemblance of the Technical Fairy. The fairy introduces himself as Goldie the Goldbrick, with visual puns to show he has a "heart of gold" (made of 14 karats), and a "backside of lead". Could you trust a fairy whose body is made up of chemical elements?

Goldie then entices Snafu to goldbrick, in a song sequence that parodies the song, Tit Willow, from the Gilbert and Sullivan opera The Mikado. It's fascinating to see how Carl Stalling could apply different ranges of musical songs into the Snafu cartoons, that was otherwise not featured in his Warner Bros. cartoon scores.

The parody lyrics, possibly written by Theodore Geisel, are witty with a lazy-like quality that could easily get Snafu in the mood.

The song follows into a montage sequence that supposedly benefits the possibility of goldbricking - such as laying in a sick bay, or finding a stooge to carry out Snafu's duties for him.

Frank Tashlin uses the montage effectively with his great use of mise en scene and composition, as seen at the sick bay scene. The scene features a silhouette of army recruits marching in a rainstorm, underneath a macabre atmosphere. The camera trucks back to reveal a comfortable Snafu lying in bed, as he's cared for by an attractive nurse. It's a great use o pathetic fallacy set outside in comparison to a more homely, warm hospital bay - achieved by innovative layout work and Tashlin's great judgement in directing.

Once Snafu is ready for combat - time passes by where he is fighting in a Southern Pacific island. Frank Tashlin's cinematic touches fit appropriately with this sequence. For cartoon animation, he's very daring by experimenting lighting and composition. It's also clear that Tashlin takes inspiration from film-noir movies that took the Hollywood industry by storm in the early 1940s, utilising such styles of the genre like low-key lighting.

In several long-shots, soldiers are seen running up a hill, whilst exploding gun shots and explosives in their way - all achieved in silhouette. It's fascinating to see how Frank Tashlin (as well as the other directors at Schlesinger) were still at the top of their game - even when they had to work extra on Snafu cartoons to fit into the studio's curriculum and schedule.

 Tashlin's unit also apply the stark contrasts of black-and-white very intelligently and subtly. In a scene of a tired Snafu climbing the hill, Goldie reappears in silhouetted form but within a luminous glow.

He further reminds Snafu to goldbrick, while in combat - which is the start of Snafu's undoing. Not only is the use of black-and-white applied appropriately, but a silhouetted appearance of Goldie also calls for visual appeal. And so, Snafu decides to goldbrick inside an unsuspecting hospital trap; set up by the "honourable" Japanese army. As he bunks on the bed - a hand device marks a cross on Snafu's helmet, which is followed by a mallet that strikes Snafu's helmet down to his waddling feet.

And so, Snafu is ambushed by an incoming Japanese tank, adorned by the Rising Sun symbol. In an attempt to save himself by digging up a trench; Goldie reappears and corrupts his mind by goldbricking on the digging, to only "dig a few inches and crawl in and sleep." Goldie's ideas of slack grows hilariously absurd throughout the cartoon, to the point where digging a trench for defence doesn't require effort whatsoever.

After only a digging a few inches and falling asleep, Snafu's rear end is still sticking about; noticeable enough for a Japanese tank to ruthlessly crush it to his death. Tashlin's timing and visual presentation of Snafu's death is innovative, by portraying a cloud of dust that unveils to reveal Snafu's grave.

Goldie appears atop of Snafu's tombstone. He removes his mask, revealing himself to be a caricatured Tojo in disguise. In his finishing words, he sings: "Here lies the goldbrick / I now go find more. If find enough goldbrick / Japan could win war!".

For a cartoon ending that's built on morales - it's entirely built around dark comedy. Snafu's mistakes is so severe, that he doesn't get the chance to learn from it; making the overall ending morale rather biting in context. It's a nice little use of irony from an American perspective to present a Japanese victory in a derogatory fashion. I'm sure the army recruits had second thoughts on goldbricking upon seeing this Snafu short.

In comparison to Snafu's Gripes, the short is an articulately funny portrayal on an army soldier's desire for comfort. Desire is crucial for an individual aiming for something, but Snafu is after the wrong desires. The Snafu cartoons are not only brilliant in providing sharp lessons to recruits via comic timing and adult humour, but they also excellently (and exaggeratedly) portray the worst consequences possible. This cartoon is a prime example of that. The cartoon's ending represents the utmost liberties the Schlesinger studio had from studio censors. Not only is the dark comedy used so savagely, but I'm sure Production Code censors would've heavily frowned upon on a Japanese victory - that's only applied as a potential threat if army recruits try to go the same way as Snafu.

Sunday, 16 April 2017

412. Hiss and Make Up (1943)

Warner cartoon no. 411.
Release date: September 11, 1943.
Series: Merrie Melodies.
Supervision: Friz Freleng.
Producer: Leon Schlesinger.
Starring: Bea Benaderat (Granny), Mel Blanc (Roscoe / Wellington).
Story: Michael Maltese.
Animation: Gerry Chiniquy.
Musical Direction: Carl W. Stalling.
Sound: Treg Brown (uncredited).
Synopsis: A cat and a dog are forced to become friends, in favour of being kicked out during snowstorm for the night.

I apologise for becoming neglectful to this blog lately. This year has been my busiest so far regarding university work, which has led to months of hard-work and distractions. As a treat for Easter Sunday, here is a new review, for an underrated Freleng short: Hiss and Make Up. I've noticed how my output in this blog has been declining, which I intend to improve on - at least a little.

Cat vs. dog/mice/birds routines are a popular genre in classic cartoons. Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera excelled at the formula for the Tom & Jerry series. Michael Maltese was clearly attracted to the formula - as he used it sporadically during his animation career. Maltese always tried to explore innovation within the cliche - by making the stories more character-driven rather than formulaic.

Hiss and Make Up is no exception. The premise is kept straightforward and to the point. The elderly owner of a feuding cat and dog (named Wellington and Roscoe) is fed up of their fighting habits, and threatens to throw one of them outside a snowstorm if they don't "kiss and make up". Intimidated by her warning, the pets attempt to snake each other out - by building traps to frame one another.

Maltese makes it clear that neither Wellington or Roscoe should be sympathised or rooted for by the audience. Both characters have the same motive, and they're equally bad as each other in terms of low cunning and selfishness.

The elderly woman is a sort of precursor to Granny - a regular character of the Sylvester & Tweety shorts. It's the same voice provided by Bea Benaderet in her first released WB cartoon (based on Keith Scott's research, her first recorded voice going by production order is Little Red Riding Rabbit).

Animation by Gerry Chiniquy.
Maltese's develops the characters with realistic personalities to the point where the cartoon already establishes that Wellington and Roscoe will never get along as friends, which is natural. The pair never attempt to patch up their relationship - but instead try to frame each other. Maltese is a master in understanding character psychology, which is left open to a lot of gag opportunities - with Friz Freleng's masterful direction skills to enhance them.

Wellington and Roscoe's relationship could easily be summed up in one scene of the elderly lady forcing the pets to "kiss and make up". The pair are immediately hesitant, but begrudgingly kiss by their owner's orders. Immediately after kissing each other, they spit out in disgust. Gerry Chiniquy's posing and facial expressions perfectly captures the essence of hatred and spite the pets have for each other.

Character animation provides great clarity in an earlier sequence of the pets slowly restoring their conflict. As the elderly woman is sewing and singing Carolina in the Morning, Roscoe the dog makes his first move by carefully sliding Wellington's tail towards the leg of the rocking chair. Wellington yells in pain on impact, which startles the owner. She immediately suspects Roscoe, attempting to look innocent.

In the following scene - Wellington is craving for retribution. Every angst in his expression is wonderfully portrayed through the animator's hands. And so, Wellington produces fly noises through his mouth, without making it obvious. He looks at imaginary fly supposedly landing on Roscoe - and then smacks him with a flyswatter.

It's a wonderfully rich piece of character animation which is reliant on pantomime. Every expression reads and shows clarity in Wellington's motive and hunger for vengeance. The pantomime is extended further, when the elderly lady watches Wellington beating Roscoe. In a desperate attempt to look innocent; Wellington picks up the imaginary fly from Roscoe's head and acts disgusted by its 'remains'.

Friz Freleng's masterful timing comes into play since the opening scene of the cartoon, featuring Wellington and Roscoe fighting in the lounge. Freleng applies an elaborate drybrush effect featuring only the cat and dog's face very briefly throughout the cartoon action. The scurry effect works well to add emphasis of the pets' fighting nature.

Freleng's ability to time cartoon action into music is used to its finest advantage in a sequence of Wellington stamping paw prints around the house. He uses a flowerpot to stamp the soil, which he prints around the room - all timed towards Raymond Scott's Powerhouse.

The Scott piece had exploded into a popular music cue around the cartoon's production time, and Friz knew how to execute it well. The effect is given the extra touch through Treg Brown's timing with sound. It's a beautifully timed piece accomplished through the work of several departments around the Schlesinger studio. It's far from economical.

Michael Maltese's expert use of gag buildups is embellished in the sequence of Roscoe planting mechanical mice toys around the kitchen as bait to set up Wellington. Upon Wellington's arrival, Roscoe bangs loudly on a frying pan - leaving the cat on a chasing spree of the mechanical mice; as the owner is disturbed from her slumber.

Wellington rapidly places the mechanical mice into a bundle, and sits on top of them prior to the elderly woman's arrival. Maltese only builds the gag after the impact, making the payoff more unpredictable and hilarious in execution. As the owner pets Wellington, the mechanical mice zip through the kitchen, with the cat sitting on them - leading him down to the basement.

Another sequence with a great gag setup is the "mad dog" sequence. Mad dog, at the time, being a colloquial term for rabies. In order to find an excuse to kick Roscoe out of the house, Wellington sets up Roscoe by rapidly planting shaving foam all over his face; which is masqueraded as rabies.

The elderly owner shrieks "Mad dog" in panic, and starts beating him with a broomstick all over the house - until he exits through the door. The disease was a common fear by the public during the time period - and the delivery captures the panic convincingly.

Friz Freleng was always capable of embellishing rich visuals whenever it was called for, like in the blackout gag. In a sequence of Roscoe attempting to clean up the paw prints; he hears the sound of his owner coming down the stairs. In a desperate attempt to hide the evidence - he turns out the lights and runs outside to look through the window.

The shot of the elderly owner opening the door in darkness is beautiful in colour and atmosphere. The light highlights around her is rather meticulous in creating effective lighting from the hallway in the background. As she turns on the lights, Roscoe shouts "Hey, put out that light!" - disguised as an air warden.

The gag might be wartime related; but it's an excellent showcase of Friz's unsung abilities as a director - asides from his comic timing.

Freleng's strong point of view as a cartoon director can never lose the audience's attention to the story. In a scene of Roscoe about to pounce on Wellington, Freleng uses intercutting of the sleeping Wellington and the approaching Roscoe.

The suspense builds each time Roscoe moves at a brisker pace. Carl Stalling's expert ability to apply music into animated action helps achieve such result. And so, the scene cuts to Wellington awakened by Roscoe's intrusion with the fight beginning. Not only does the effect work great in suspense; but it's a great showcase on Friz's attempt to continue innovating his craft, by keeping up with the trends of other Warner Bros. cartoons, like Frank Tashlin.

Mike Maltese goes his way of not writing a conventional cat-and-dog feud short. One result is the presence of a canary; who would later play an important role in the cartoon. The canary is first seen as an observant of Wellington and Roscoe's recklessness, and is given the burden of dodging incoming pieces of china passing by its cage.

At one point, the canary is used as bait by Roscoe to set up Wellington. He places a couple of the bird's feathers in Wellington's mouth; to deceive the elderly owner - and trapping the canary inside a jar; only to foil Roscoe's plan by whistling its presence to the owner.

Once the feud continues to escalate; the canary becomes a nervous wreck. The expressions of the canary undergoing its own breakdown is priceless; and only to be topped as he swallows an aspirin pill.

The canary's role becomes prominent as he begins framing Roscoe and Wellington, by deliberately destroying furniture items and wrecking the room. At this point in Warner history, it's unusual to have animated cartoons seen through the perspective of background characters. It adds more depth and dimension into a typical cartoon formula, which is excelled here. Michael Maltese would use the plot device several times later (like Roughly Squeaking).

Once Wellington and Roscoe realise they're being set up by a destructive canary; they ally together to attack the canary. Caught by their house owner, the pets are tossed outside in the snow. Roscoe observes Wellington smiling, which not only confuses him, but the viewer, too. This motivates Roscoe to speak his only line in the cartoon: "How can you sit there and smile when we're out here in the cold, and that double-crossing canary's in there!".

The cat nods in disagreement to the latter part of Roscoe's dialogue, and reveals the canary trapped inside the cat's sharp teeth - in the style of prison bars. Whoever animated the close-up shows a great understanding of staging and visual clarity for the payoff gag.

Maltese's ending presents a good case on how justice is brought to every character. Roscoe and Wellington, both as bad as each other, are punished equally as they're left to freeze in the night. The canary, who snaked the pets, is brought to justice when Wellington has the last laugh.

For an overlooked cartoon of Friz Freleng, it's an innovative take on the cat and dog formula. Michael Maltese creates an interesting perspective that makes the cartoon less conventional and more compelling - such as the canary plot device. His characters are established well enough to devise gags that will keep the audience focused throughout the cartoon. Friz never fails to fall behind on keeping up with the growing standards of the Schlesinger plant. Not only does he excel in executing comic timing, but he keeps the short visually appealing - such as the use of fast-cutting and beautiful staging. Overall, it's a solid one-shot cartoon that holds as a beacon for Freleng and Maltese's growing reputation within the studio.

 Rating: 4/5.

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

411. Scrap Happy Daffy (1943)

Warner cartoon no. 410.
Release date: August 21, 1943.
Series: Looney Tunes.
Supervision: Frank Tashlin.
Producer: Leon Schlesinger.
Starring: Mel Blanc (Daffy Duck / Hitler / Lincoln), Dorothy Lloyd (Whistle). Thanks to Keith Scott.
Story: Don Christensen.
Animation: Art Davis.
Musical Direction: Carl W. Stalling.
Sound: Treg Brown (uncredited).
Synopsis: Daffy Duck confronts a billy goat, whom was sent by the Nazis to demolish his scrap pile.

Although the cartoon is showered with propaganda tendencies - the premise operates like a standard Warner Bros. cartoon. Daffy Duck is devoting his time collecting scraps for the war effort; but Hitler attempts to thwart his plans by sending a billy goat to destroy his scrap pile.

For a concept relatively straightforward, Frank Tashlin never shies away from his innovative direction and artistic abilities. Like Porky Pig's Feat, he attempts to give the cartoon a cinematic scope, without losing the entertainment value - a feat he excels at.

The opening sequence is a prime example of Tashlin's attempt to combine entertainment and patriotism fluidly. Daffy's purpose is to encourage audiences in cooperating with the war effort. By doing so, he sings the popular wartime song We're in to Win, and lists out numerous items to be used as scraps.

The sequence is largely informative; and Tashlin compensates this by adding visualised gags - like having Daffy climb the scrap pile, like a mountain. Frank ic bathing suit; acknowledged by Daffy's wolf-whistle.

To enlighten wartime audiences, the Warner staff don't hesitate to ridicule their enemies. Tashlin inserts a visual pun of Daffy's mirror reflections morphing into the Axis leaders: Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo; as they each yell "Freedom's foe" with their stereotyped accents--causing the mirror to shatter.

Tashlin also applies a hilarious cross dissolve effect to mock Hitler; that is perfectly clarified visually. Once, Daffy finishes his song, he remarks bitterly: "Well, how d'you like that? Schicklgruber?"--the name being a reference to Hitler's father's original surname. The camera pans to the rear end of a mule facing sideways. The scenes changes through a match dissolves to Adolf Hitler reading a newspaper.

Frank Tashlin's cinematic style is perhaps best highlighted during the montage sequence of Hitler and his comrades ordering the destruction of Daffy Duck's scrap pile. The scene begins with Hitler reacting offensively to Daffy's witty headline on the scrap pile, reading: "Mussolini in scrap heap - now let's junk Hitler!".

Hitler rants in the German tongue, which is comically translated as "Non aryan duck". Hitler's anger goes so far, he ends up shredding his carpet like an animal! And so, he orders for the scrap pile to be destroyed.

"Destroy that scrap pile!"
This follows into an elaborate montage sequence, of Hitler's officers forwarding the orders: "Destroy that scrap pile!". Tashlin's innovative use of dynamics fits wonderfully. He applies silhouette and closeups of officer's hands; which enhances the suspense. The choices of composition are almost on par with master filmmakers, like Alfred Hitchcock or Leni Riefenstahl.

A standout example of Tashlin's use of dynamics is evident in a shot of the submarine captain. He commands the same order, "Destroy that scrap pile", but the camera pans right across the officer as he points with his finger, to indicate a command. It's a remarkably complex layout; but the animator's use of mechanics produce great results.

Asides from his cinematic techniques; Tashlin's cartoons had strong art direction a lot of the time. The layouts of the cartoon, possibly by Dave Hilberman, follow a graphic, avant-garde approach which the animation industry wouldn't fully endorse until the formation of UPA. Tashlin, and Chuck Jones are notable exceptions in this era. The scrap pile is an innovative design that suggests a constructed look to it.

The background work is very experimental and somewhat underestimated in this cartoon. A lot of the backgrounds are painted in rough form without the use of normal linework, but was applied afterwards. A similar technique wouldn't become popularised until the 1961 Disney feature, One Hundred and One Dalmatians - under the art direction of Ken Anderson and colour stylist Walt Peregoy.

Other creative uses of colour is evident in the sequence of Daffy Duck unknowingly staring at his own reflection in the dark. He mistakes his own eyes for the billy goat, and he holds up a bayonet as defence. He orders: "Put your hands up. You criminals are all alike. I can see it in your eyes. Just a stupid ignoramus. A numbskull. A nitwit. A nincom--"; Daffy strikes a match to realise he's talking to his own mirror reflection, resulting in a late delivery of "--poop".

Once the submarine fires a torpedo directed towards the scrap pile; the weapon opens to reveal a billy goat contained inside. The sequence showcases Tashlin's comic timing wonderfully; such as the action of the goat goose-stepping.

Treg Brown's sound effects are put to great use; like when the goat eats up the scrap pile, in the action of a typewriter. Once the goat swallows a handful of junk, his stomach struggles to fully digest, and he begins to hiccup; which Brown utilises with an effective rumble sound.

Other indications of Tashlin's timing skills is seen during the mallet scene. Daffy has hidden himself inside a pair of glasses, that is portrayed so subtly in animation. The glasses were formed in the shape of Daffy, which the goat ruins by tossing them away.

Daffy's hands arise as he strikes the goat's horns with his mallet. Sheepishly grinning, the goat retaliates by shaking his head vigorously; whilst Daffy is still attached to the mallet. An interesting cross-dissolve effect fits in, where multiple uses of Daffy Duck are used to emphasise his struggle with the goat.

A trait of Frank Tashlin that's most revealing during his 1940s stint at Schlesinger's, was his ability to push poses to the extreme. The effect is applied during the fast-cutting scenes of the billy goat charging towards Daffy Duck. The timing and animation (by Art Davis?) adds a lot of character personality. The speed of the billy goat suggests a disciplined, intimidating mammal; whilst the goat's comical and clumsy skid suggests otherwise.

This is soon followed with a sequence of Daffy Duck, disguising himself as Tojo by wearing glasses and wearing the stereotyped grin: "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses, would ya?"

Another creative piece of animation that works as a visual gag, is the scene of Daffy's neck peeking out from by the fence. His head pokes out from underneath his combat helmet, as he remarks: "Saboteurs, I betcha!". Only a gag like that could read in animated form.

While the cartoons were plagued with wartime references naturally, elements of cultural references are still blended in. Perhaps this was used to balance out the propaganda. In one sequence, Daffy Duck encounters the hiccuping goat, and attempts to help him.

In an attempt to help, Daffy produces a remedy by placing a sodium pull in a glass of water; quoting "Listen to it fizz" - a direct reference to the Alka-Seltzer advertisement popular of the time. After the goat consumes the drink, his hiccups get more violent each time - leading to Daffy's discovery that the goat serves the Nazis - as indicated from his swastika ornament.

At a moment of defeat from the billy goat; Daffy has an epiphany. He encounters the spirits of his former descendants; who are dressed as American pioneers and historical figures like Daniel Boone and Abraham Lincoln.

Admittedly, it's one of the weakest elements of the cartoon. The cartoon changes in tone and style, from the short's usual brisk pace, to an ending that's over-patriotic.

The descendants encourage Daffy by singing in the style of Yankee Doodle, about determination. Then they all sing in unison, "Americans don't give up!". The line work on the descendants are creative in style, but the sequence itself is rather forced and cliched in patriotism. The majority of the short set a brisk pace style of Daffy Duck's antics with a Nazi goat, with entertaining sequences - but the patriotic scenes of Daffy's descendants feels out of place.

The heavy of patriotism escalates only further once Daffy has an epiphany. He leaps up in the sky, and forms a superhero guise parodying Superman - "Super American". By today's standards, the sequence can be open to interpretation.

One viewer might believe the persona displays a sense of arrogance of the nation - as the scenes emphasise America's power and strength. This is especially evident in the scene of Daffy fighting off the naval officers onboard a Nazi ship; by punching the firing bullets away.

However, it could be seen as a satire on American propaganda; by overcompensating the nation's pride. Preferably, I'd like to see it as satirical. The satire is even more revealing as the scene of Super American cross-dissolves back into reality; with Daffy Duck wrestling with a pipe. Daffy Duck recovers himself after being wrenched by water, gasping: "It was all a dream". But, a camera pans up towards the scrap pile; where a Nazi submarine sits atop. The Nazis yell in unison, "Next time you dream, include us out!". It's a wonderful piece of witty writing that is either open to interpretation or plain wacky.

Scrap Happy Daffy feels more like a patriotic, propaganda cartoon and not so focused in mocking the Axis powers, as evident in cartoons like Daffy - the Commando or Herr Meets Hare. Frank Tashlin at times, uses propaganda cleverly in the short. The opening sequence of Daffy's propaganda song balances comical humour neatly, and the 'Super American' climax is a clever piece of satire on America over-compensating their power through propaganda. The sequence with Daffy Duck communicating with his spirited ancestors, however, is a bit forceful. It feels out of place compared to the satirical propaganda scenes. One could argue it was deliberately written in that patriotic style to build up the hilariously flamboyant Super-American scenes. Tashlin's expert use of applying cinematic techniques,  innovative layouts and the distinctive Warner Bros. humour more than makes up for the little flaws here.

Rating: 3/5.