The introduction of sound in the late 1920s brought a new element to animated movies. While many early live-action films focused heavily on dialogue with the advent of sound, animated films managed to blend sound and visuals without relying excessively on dialogue.
Max and Dave Fleischer were particularly attuned to this aspect in the 1930s.
The early Betty Boop and Screen Song cartoons, designed for mainstream audiences, were bold and somewhat experimental creations.
Fleischer’s iconic works include Minnie the Moocher (1932), Snow White (1933), I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead You Rascal You (1932), and I Heard (1933).
I Ain’t Got Nobody (1932) can be seen as the precursor to music videos, seamlessly blending animation with bluesy jazz.
These short films also served to promote the music and upcoming performances of the guest artists.
Welcome to Fleischer World
Like some jazz musicians, the Fleischer animators were gritty New Yorkers whose unconventional lifestyle was reflected in their cartoons.
While Disney, Warner, and MGM exuded a cheerful optimism in the early 1930s, Fleischer Studios took audiences on a tumultuous journey through the psyche of the Depression era.
The cultural insulation of the Fleischers played a significant role in their best work.
Embracing a world of sex, violence, hot jazz, and challenging times, the studio cultivated a unique absurdist vision of nonconformity in animation.
The shift to sound only fueled the Fleischers’ playful rebellion. Before the intervention of the Hays Office in 1934, the East Coast animators had no established guidelines to adhere to.
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The first Fleischer cartoon to seamlessly blend peculiar imagery with the Jazz Age spirit was Minnie the Moocher.
The combination of Betty Boop and Cab Calloway resulted in some of the finest moments in animation.
The rotoscoped Calloway appears as a ghostly walrus, engaging Betty and her dog Bimbo in a dark cave while singing the classic title song, which references prostitution, cocaine addiction, and venereal disease.
The black-and-gray visuals are striking as the Calloway walrus performs amidst unusual backgrounds, from decayed fingers to jagged skulls.
In the book “Cartoons” by Giannalberto Bendazzi, Minnie the Moocher is hailed as “a masterpiece of American animation,” with its visions and allusions to danger and sex showcasing the power of a totentanz, a dance of death.
The film can also be interpreted as a metaphor for the fears and uncertainties of the Depression.
Minnie the Moocher laid the foundation for the impressive Boop-Calloway masterpiece Snow White.
Some historians have likened Snow White to the Salvador Dali-Luis Buñuel short Un Chien Andalou (1929) for its surreal, disconnected imagery accompanied by Calloway’s sad song “St. James Infirmary Blues.”
The painted backgrounds in Snow White are dark and treacherous, particularly in the “mystery cave” with its sleazy taverns and skeletal remains.
Like Minnie the Moocher, Calloway’s movements are rotoscoped. Still, this time, he portrays a transformed Ko-Ko the Clown leading a funeral procession through the cave with Betty literally “on ice.”
In Calloway’s song, the ice coffin is likened to a “long white table” in the morgue as Ko-Ko/Calloway mourns the loss of his “baby.”
During the song, the evil queen transforms Ko-Ko/Calloway into an elongated ghost, visualizing the “St. James” lyrics by morphing into a “$20 gold piece” and “a shot of booze.”
The Calloway-Boop cartoons create a somber ambiance through animated songs filled with throwaway gags.
The Fleischers’ continuous flow of cartoon creativity seems boundless. Minnie the Moocher and Snow White, replete with intricate details, invite repeated viewings.
Featuring Louis Armstrong in one of his early film appearances, I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead You Rascal You exudes a lively atmosphere in the best sense through Armstrong’s music and the Fleischers’ visual style.
In this fast-paced Betty Boop cartoon, every element moves rhythmically: trees, volcanoes, footprints, porcupine needles, and even cannibals who transform themselves into bushes.
When the cannibals capture Betty, Bimbo, and Ko-Ko, the latter manages to escape, only to be chased by a live-action Armstrong.
In a humorous twist, Ko-Ko runs so fast that his clown suit struggles to keep up with him.
Armstrong continues to pursue Ko-Ko while singing the title song, which delves into adultery and contains the suggestive lyric, “You gave my wife a bottle of Coca-Cola so you could play on her Victrola.” Welcome to the whimsical world of Fleischer.
In contrast to earlier Boop performances, the lively atmosphere of I Heard takes a darkly surreal turn.
Accompanied by Don Redman and His Orchestra (making a rare film appearance to introduce the cartoon), Betty delivers an infectious rendition of “How’m I Doin’?” as the workers at the “Never Mine” enjoy a hearty lunch in her tavern.
The Fleischers inject a steady stream of gags to align with the rhythm of Redman’s music.
After the steam whistle finishes its lunch, Betty and the coal miners encounter gossiping and baseball-playing ghosts underground.
One ghost hits a bomb on Betty and Bimbo, triggering a back-and-forth escapade, culminating in a mine explosion.
In the peculiar closing scene, the ghosts fall into pre-dug graves opened by Bimbo, who gets the last laugh in his final appearance on screen. Betty’s romantic co-star fell victim to the repressive Production Code, marking the end of the “Boop-oop-a-doop” jazz extravaganzas.
Largely unavailable on home video (though revived on YouTube), the Fleischer Screen Song cartoons of the 1930s employed wrap-around animation to feature a musical performer in live action, accompanied by the famous Bouncing Ball leading the chorus.
In some cases, the overall short truly benefited from the strength of its guest artist.
I Ain’t Got Nobody, regarded as one of the standout Screen Song productions, marked the cinematic debut of the Mills Brothers, introduced as pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
The unconventional “premise” revolves around a mesmerizing lion with the ability to make inanimate objects (except for a grumpy statue) sing the Mills Brothers’ hit “Tiger Rag.”
In a quintessential showcase of Fleischer animation, the entire living room harmonizes in unison, followed by a lion rug scat-singing in the style of the Mills Brothers.
This innovative use of music complemented the Fleischers’ unique surrealism, reflecting the Depression era, unlike any other animation studio.
While Disney’s early work depicted a rural midwestern quality, the Fleischer landscape portrayed a black-and-white urban jungle — an ideal setting for artists like Calloway, Armstrong, Redman, and the Mills Brothers.
The Betty Boop and Screen Song cartoons are valuable cinematic records of the musical talents who joined Max and Dave Fleischer in their symphony of visual madness.
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