You can’t blame Walter Lantz for wanting to come up with original characters. So it makes sense that Lantz would come up with a character like Pooch the Pup. The Pooch cartoons seem to be a little bit more elaborate than the Oswalds, and more into the adventure mode that was beginning to catch on in cartoons, for such rival characters as Mickey Mouse, Flip the Frog, and even Bosko and later Buddy at Warner Brothers. We have not yet been able to figure out how the Poochs were faring against the Oswalds with exhibitors, but Lantz seemed to be putting his back into pushing the new product. Ultimately, however, Pooch did not replace Oswald as the lead character in Universal’s cartoons – probably because of his lack of outstanding personality traits. Even a redesign in 1933 didn’t help. Essentially, these cartoons could just as easily have been cast as Oswalds with some minor reworking of the animation, and nobody would have noticed the difference.

The Crowd Snores (10/24/32) – Pooch the Pup gets involved in an automobile race, his main adversary driving what appears to be a straight-32 cylinder job. Sight gags abound, with Pooch’s rear tire getting stuck upon a wad of chewing gum, as the front of the car stretches to perform a lap around the track and meet itself coming around the other way. Pooch’s adversary loses a rear tire, but stretches the front one to extend around the rear rim, converting the rubber into all-terrain tank treads. When Pooch’s car runs out of gas, he stops at a hidden speak-easy, whispers “Louie set me” through the door peephole, and receives a pump full of high-octane stuff that sends his car into intoxication. Eventually, Pooch wins the race, but ends the cartoon with the whole pack of angry opponents pursuing him back to where he came from. The film’s title is a pun on “The Crowd Roars”, a similar auto race epic from Warner starring James Cagney. Several songs appear in the score, including the march “Under the Double Eagle”, dealt with before in other articles, “Hungarian Dance No. 5″, and a recognizable but elusive reel or hornpipe heard at intervals during Pooch’s lapping the track and the car intoxication sequence, as to which I cannot place the title. Reader input is requested to identify this piece, and any period recordings of it.

The Plumber (1/16/33) – Oswald and friends find that their domicile has become flooded, thanks largely to the shenanigans of a little brat. Years before the Three Stooges, the youth crosses water pipes with electrical pipes, flooding electrical fixtures and giving Oswald an unexpected charge. Many gags involve the child’s attempting to fish for canned sardines released into the water, and a duel between Ozzie and a swordfish leaping into the fray from a wall plaque. Eventually, all the water does drain away, while the child gets to sing special lyrics set to “It Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo” – then gets a bucket of water thrown upon him by Oswald. Song: “If You Can’t Sing, Whistle”, a British novelty from 1931. Jack Hylton’s version for HMV was issued here on Victor. The Carolina Club Orchestra (actually a Victor Young group), issued a version for Melotone and the dime store labels. Harry Reser’s Six Jumping Jacks got a Brunswick version, with the nearly0inevitable vocal by the band’s drummer, Tom Stacks.

The Terrible Troubadour (1/30/33) – Pooch is serenading a sweet young thing, and finds that her father doesn’t think highly of it, throwing flower pots at him and the like. Pooch winds up in the bull ring, where the bull winds up half-dazed. Eventually, he does get together with his main squeeze, Song: “Lady of Spain”, with special lyrics. The song is a 1931 British paso doble, the best-known version being by the New Mayfair Dance Orchestra under the direction of Ray Noble, released on HMV and here in the States on Victor (one of the first of Noble’s records to really move across the counter to waiting buyers). The song became a favorite of accordionists, and became a signature piece for Dick Contino, who would play it on Horace Heidt’s Youth Opportunity Program to win week after week. Heidt would issue Contino’s version on his own record label, then Contino would re-record it for Mercury. Going back into the early 1930’s, Columbia issued a vocal record by the Rondoliers and their Piano Pals (a boys’ quartet with two pianos). Such quartet became a house unit at Columbia, and was known for its top tenor – a young Roy Halee – of Mighty Mouse fame! Jack Payne covered it for the British market on Columbia. The Odeon Dance Orchestra (probably a German recording) issued an early 30’s cover for Europe. Jack Phillips’ Melodeons (probably Harry Bidgood’s studio orchestra,) also competed on Broadcast Twelve. A mid-30’s Texas recording was issued on Bluebird by Arthur Geyer on Hammond Organ, at a time when the instrument was fairly new. Ken Griffin gave it an organ rendition on Rondo much later. Eddie Fisher would have a hit revival in the 1950’s on RCA Victor with an elaborate orchestral accompaniment by Hugo Winterhalter. The Melachrino Strings issued a British instrumental on HMV. Ray Martin issued a competing version on British Columbia. Les Paul would also give it an instrumental whirl on electric guitar for Capitol. Arthur Guitar Boogie Smith gave it his own style on MGM. Winifred Atwell gave it her piano treatment on British Decca, issued here on London.

The Lumber Champ (3/13/33) – Pooch is working at a lumber camp, and winds up in a typical hero/villain/damsel chase, with the villain tying the damsel to a log to float downstream. (Oddly, no sign of a log flume, buzz saw, or waterfall.) Pooch does save the damsel, ultimately tied to a railroad track, by separating the rails in opposite directions, and causing the villain’s locomotive to split down the middle (an ending which would be repeated years later in “The Bird on Nellie’s Hat”). Pooch and the girl duet, as well as end the film, singing lines from “The Cute Little Things You Do”, a 1931 pop song, recorded for Victor by the High Hatters (a Leonard Joy house band). Adrian Schubert issued the same song (with the same tune on the flip side as the Victor release, though the tunes were not from a common source) on Crown. For those checking out the cartoon, watch for cameos of Groucho and Harpo Marx during the musical number – appearing as trees!

Nature’s Workshop (6/5/33) – Pooch is walking and whistling “The Year of Jubilo” as he often does in these cartoons, as he comes across a woodland setting where Mother Nature is boss. A number of classical/semi-classical themes appear, including Brahms Hungarian Dance No. 5, but include one we’ve not encountered before, “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” from Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite.” Herman Finck issued an English Columbia version in 1914 that proliferated to other countries in Europe. Leopold Stokowsky and the Philadelphia Orchestra had one of the most memorable sets of the full suite in 1926 for Victor. Alexander Smallens and the Decca Little Symphony Orchestra issued a maroon classical series set for Decca circa 1939. Freddy Martin performed the suite in popular tempo on Victor (below). Duke Ellington would include the piece on his “Three Suites” album, retitling the piece “Sugar Rum Cherry” for Columbia. Les Brown also recorded a somewhat jazzed up version of the suite for Capitol, though the “Sugar Plum” number gets treated fairly straight.

Ham and Eggs (6/19/33) – “Do You know Bill Dodger? He walks like this” – the most memorable take-away line of dialogue from this film, delivered in the strangest manner of synchronization perhaps ever presented on fil, – with each syllable recorded independently and held by the voice actor, then cut and spliced together to match the lips of the character – resulting in what sounds like a butcher job of bad, emotionless acting. Oswald is chief cook and waiter of a hash house. One customer orders spaghetti, while another orders the ever-popular wheat cakes One of the customers trying to dodge the bill is accosted by the cash register, which shakes out all of his pocket coins onto the floor. Another gag which might have originated from Fred Avery occurs when Oswald prepares the wheat cakes – using a mixing bowl with six holes in it, that pours out six cakes simultaneously (similar to the coffee-pot gag in “a Feud There Was” for Warner. Meanwhile, the fellow who orders them uses them as tiddly winks to shoot into a spittoon, A lot of other weird restaurant gags aided and abetted by a lively score, though hindered by the odd synchronization. Song: an original number by Oswald to his girl at the beginning and end, though I cannot figure out a title for it. Also included is “Sentimental Gentleman From Georgia”, a 1932 pop song, recorded by Isham Jones for Victor with high-fidelity sound (below), by the Boswell Sisters for Brunswick, the Pickens Sisters for Victor, and the Washboard Rhythm Kings for Vocalion. The Hoosier Hot Shots gave it their treatment on Melotone (getting the minor-key chords wrong). Baron Lee and the Blue Rhythm Band also issued a Melotone version. A unique instrumental treatment appeared from England by Ginger Johnson and the Swinging Seven on Regal Zonophone. Joe Loss issued an early recording from his organization, probably original on Sterno but also issued in Belgium on Super Record. The Dinning Sisters had one of the last revivals of the song for Capitol in the 1940’s, with quite a bit of new patter and specialty material, somewhat in a parody of “Yes, My Darling Daughter”.

Confidence (7/31/33) – A “Beat the Depression” cartoon, obviously competing of sorts with the mood-breaking brought about by “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” from rival Disney’s “Three Little Pigs”. Things are sunny and bright at Oswald’s farm, with some of the hens laying prodigious eggs, until the specter of Depression settles over the land. All of a sudden, the hens are not laying. Oswald runs panicking for a doctor. The doctor points him to a picture of newly-inaugurated President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and says, “There’s your doctor.” Oswald rigs up a bullet plane to send himself to Washington. FDR talk sings the cartoon’s theme song (an original, never recorded), telling him that confidence is all that Oswald needs. Oswald returns to the farm, armed with a flit gun somehow loaded with the magic ingredient, and restores life to the farmyard. Then there is a parade set to the song, “(There’s a) New Day Comin’”, a pop song from early 1933, Ted Lewis recorded it for royal blue Columbia. Ben Burrowes also performed it on Crown (a label that offered “Two hits for two bits”).

Hot and Cold (8/14/33) – Pooch winds up in the far and frozen North. Only he has a prescription to liven up the place. That prescription is to “Turn On the Heat” The result is a fairly spectacular sequence, although some say it can’t hold a candle to the original presentation of the piece from the live action Fox musical, “Sunnyside Up” (embed below) from 1929, where it was presented in a color sequence now only surviving in black and white, with a village of igloos melting before your eyes, and a chorus of beauties in parkas converts to scanty beach garb. The recordings of the number included Horace Heidt on Victor, the Charleston Chasers on Columbia (played as a slow drag, with vocal by Eva Taylor (Mrs. Clarence Williams)), Earl Burtnett on Brunswick, and Frankie Trunbauer on Okeh. Fats Waller also performed a piano solo version for Victor. Other American dance arrangements included the Majestic Dance Orchestra on Perfect, Vic Randolphs and his Orchestra on Banner, and the Memphis Jazzers on Grey Gull. Overseas, Jack Hulton got it for HMV. Alfredo and his Band covered for Edison Bell Radio. The Savoy Orpheans also performed it on Dominion (a low-priced label).

NEXT TIME: More Oswald and Pooch, as we progress.