by Ryan Lewellen
Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand and Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.
So glad you could all make it, you children-of-all-ages, back to The Archivist! I am so excited to have had the chance to see two almost-forgotten animated features from two giants of American fine-tooning. Chuck Jones had an illustrious career in the realms of Looney Tunes as well as Merrie Melodies, and for his picking up the Tom And Jerry torch and producing 34 episodes with a completely distinct style. Ralph Bakshi, who might unfortunately be renowned solely for directing Fritz The Cat and The Lord Of The Rings, has a rich filmography comprised of groundbreaking and controversial features that hypnotize and provoke. The Warner Archives offers a variety of animated gems, possibly none so intriguing as the two I watched this week.
THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH
In 1970, Chuck Jones and his collaborators adapted Norman Juster’s beloved children’s book, The Phantom Tollbooth, into a cinematic beauty. “What’s to become of Milo?” asks the perfectly syrupy ’70s opening theme. A fine question, considering the song’s subject is a boy living a life of privilege and comfort, who seems to have no interest in living, at all. He stares blankly into the void during the many important lessons of the school day, and mopes his way home, oblivious to the exciting sights and sounds his daily route provides in abundance. On this day, however, a mysterious package arrives, transforms into a tollbooth promising thrills, and Milo is transformed into an animated adventurer. On his journey through The Doldrums, Dictionopolis, Digitopolis, and other such places, he makes colorful friends, battles a few monsters, sings a couple of songs, and learns paramount lessons in leading a valuable life.
If you can’t get your kid to read, sit that ignorant little butt down in front of this movie! This is the kind of art that stimulates a young mind from as many angles as possible, and proves not only that learning is fun and important, but also that knowledge can be used to entertain and improve the world. Who knows? It could even make a reader out of her/him. I don’t want to make this sound like Sesame Street; Milo is on a perilous journey! He uses his imagination to escape demons, he uses logic to reunite kingdoms, and literally uses wordplay to kill racism, hypocrisy, stagnation. The movie is slightly dated (he uses “industry” to fight “laziness”) and doesn’t exactly move at the perfect clip, but it boasts plenty of wondrous sites and ideas to hold your attention and imagination. Check ‘er out.
HEY GOOD LOOKIN’
From a film that seems to have everything on its mind, we transition to Ralph Bakshi’s Hey Good Lookin’, a film which appears to have nothing on its mind, other than a serious breast fetish. Intended as a combination of live action and animation (a feat he would later achieve with Cool World), Bakshi’s film about a pair of greaser gang leaders occupied by the dual mission of ruling the streets and getting laid claims, in its tagline, to “bring you the outrageous ’50s the way they really were.” Apparently the ’50s were terrifying. The amorphous character forms stretch and skew and writhe their way through the movie. Not in that charming Bakshi way, either. I am telling you watching this film is mostly like watching somebody’s limp, rubbery nightmares. The visuals are taxing, but also stimulating (in more than one way), and most viewers won’t be able to look away. The real problem is the script.
Who knows what must have been lost during the long process between the director’s creative inception and the cut the studio finally agreed to release. The result, as it is immortalized on DVD, is a film mostly about misogyny, cowardice, and insanity. Women are not treated well at all in or by the movie, and the final moments of the third act are so baffling, I was almost angry for having watched it. Examining the framing device, however, and a couple of other faintly outlined thematic elements, one could draw up a concept of a critique of proceeding generations’ blind faith in the existence of “the good old days.” There is a particularly sharp bit opening the film involving garbage, and a garbage can, debating the existence of heaven. The movie seems to stumble so far from that biting satire long before it circles back around to a similar idea, it resolves with a feeling of pointlessness. Still, if you’re a Bakshi completist (and you should be), I doubt you will feel your time been wasted.
So slick back your hair, open your mind, and venture your way into a land of boobies and syntax! It’s double feature time!
