Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Comics Review: MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDS FOREVER #12 (December 2014, IDW)

Brenda Hickey's cover homage to the "Nowhere Man" sequence from Yellow Submarine (1968) isn't just for funsies.  This issue is a no-holds-barred "psychedelic experience" complete with what THE OVERSTREET PRICE GUIDE (or at least the editions I've seen) would have no hesitation labeling as a "drug use motif."  One could argue that it stands to reason that color-coordinated ponies with strange powers would inevitably have to endure a scenario like this at some point.  And who better to experience the full brunt of the "trip" than Pinkie Pie

My opinion of the issue as a whole could charitably be described as "mixed."  I appreciate the immense effort that Hickey, who has sure as shootin' taken a long, strange trip since her MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC comic-book debut, puts into making this thing truly bizarre, and I did enjoy the cleverness of Barbara Kesel's dialogue.  The problem is that, given the whisper-thin plot premise, I don't think that this tale merited a full issue.  The vast majority of the story seems to take place in the "Pinkie Zone," and that's an area that is fun to visit in the short run but tends to drive the visitor away in the long run, simply because Pinkie is so over the top... and she's roughly 100 stories OVER "over the top" here.  In the end, I think that Kesel and Hickey simply try TOO hard to punch the weirdness across.  I can see this working better as one of the backup features that have appeared in most issues of the MLP:FIM flagship title.

I'm not going to bother with SPOILERS here, since the plot could be scribbled on both sides of the paper in a Chinese fortune cookie, with room left over for the standard "lucky numbers" and one-sentence sliver of wisdom. Pinkie is obsessed with treats called "Phenomnomenons" and comes to ask for Twilight Sparkle's assistance in resisting their sugary Siren call, but she ultimately learns that the best way to "kick a habit" is by using one's own willpower.  Welcome back to the 80's... "Just Say No" has returned with a vengeance!  Kesel and Hickey would probably deny that such was their intention, but that's the way the message comes across.  The only added feature here is Twilight's personal intervention, which is itself presented in considerably-further-than-off-the-wall fashion.  For example, Twilight uses the hyped-up Pinkie's innate kinetic energy to trap the pink pony in a Mousetrap-style game-cum-prison.

Unfortunately, Kesel and Hickey muddy their supposed moral a bit in the last panel with Spike.  He didn't really need to be in this issue at all, actually, which makes the coda all the more obnoxious. 

These are definitely NOT the weirdest pages in the story... just the ones I could readily find online.

Aside from its sheer "bizzaritude," this tale will wind up rating a footnote of sorts in MLP:FIM trivia lore, because it marks the first time that any sort of canonical or quasi-canonical pony story has spent any time inside Twilight's "Friendship Castle," the gaudy structure that first appeared at the end of the show's two-part season four finale, "Twilight's Kingdom."  Most of Twilight's anti-temptation experiments take place inside the castle; things don't begin to fall apart for our favorite scholarly alicorn princess until the field of battle shifts outdoors to the open-air food market.

Not a flop, but not really what I prefer to see in an MLP:FIM comic-book story, either.  At least, a full-length one.

Friday, December 5, 2014

"Not pony tales, but"... actually, YES, pony tales.

I have been pretty busy this past week and haven't gotten many opportunities to blog.  I still have a couple of tomes on the old pile-a-roo to read and review.  I'm also deciding on the next DUCKTALES comic-book story and fanfic to dissect.  We're heading into finals week, however, so those features won't appear until the second half of December, at the earliest.

In the meantime, I have some delectable crossover matter for you to nosh on.  I stumbled across these items while I was... OK, I'll admit it, I was searching for a DuckTales/My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic crossover fanfic.  I did find one, but... let's just say that I would prefer to pass over it in silence.  I'm sure that the writer did his or her best, but there's just not that much substance to the thing.

Graphical blandishers have been busier:

The image is from IDW's MLP MICRO-SERIES COMIC #8, the one featuring Celestia.  Unfortunately, these kids were making fun of the aging and increasingly oblivious teacher Inkwell.  I'd almost have preferred that they were playing hooky or something.  Also... "A-WOOOOOO"?  Is that the DuckTales theme song or a Warren Zevon hit from the 70s?

If you're not satisfied with ponified versions of HD&L, how about the real McCoys... and an entirely new distaff challenge.  And the lads thought they had issues with Webby and Gosalyn...

Perhaps this faceoff took place during an adventure in which Scrooge found himself in Equestria and immediately did what comes naturally to him -- namely, search for treasure.  Since the MLP:FIM TV episode "A Dog and Pony Show" clearly indicated that certain areas of Equestria are chock-full of gems, this would be a natural thing to do.  Due to the completely alien territory, it would also be natural that Scrooge would seek assistance from a local expert, whose many talents include an ability to find gems with her magic:

I can't wait to see "the division of the spoils" after this adventure.  Rarity's charm (and magic) vs. Scrooge's will (and proven ability to do effective battle with a magical adversary)!  Which would prevail?

Apparently, someone was planning to write a fanfic with this title, but this picture is as far as they got.  Maybe they'll get back to it someday.  If they do, then I hope they'll consider changing the title.  "Friendship is Money" doesn't sound quite as... well, warm as the show's actual title.

As for Launchpad, provided that he could fit his trusty 'copter through the gate, or portal, or continuity rift, or whatever would allow communion between the Ducks and the ponies, I'm sure that he'd get into the spirit of Equestria and make friends quite easily.

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Promos have begun to appear on Discovery Kids (nee The Hub) promising the return of new MLP:FIM episodes in Spring 2015.  I had to chuckle a bit at the teaser below, because it partakes so transparently of "movie trailer-style overkill."  Where is the late Dan LaFontaine when you need him?  "IN A WORLD where Twilight Sparkle discovers the magic of friendship..."


Friday, October 31, 2014

Stevenson 57, FDU-Florham 0 (10/25)

Insert your favorite metaphor for utter domination here: Massacree, thumping, curb-stomping, garroting, steamrolling...  Stevenson's first-ever victory on Homecoming Weekend was in the tradition of innumerable Homecoming games past: play a team you are almost guaranteed to beat.  The Mustangs' frequently anemic offense put up a 57-spot on the worst team I have ever seen play at Mustang Stadium (and that counts SU in its first two 2-8 seasons).  The stands were packed for the disembowelment.

Yep, FDU-Florham's unfortunate quarterback was, in fact, named Jagger Green.  I couldn't help but make with the jokes about the QB being unable to find any satisfaction, being knocked off his cloud, and falling to the turf like tumbling dice, to Nicky's groaning discontent.  Somehow, I didn't think to mention feeling sympathy for the DevilsEsprit de l'escalier, and all that.

The Mustangs are now 5-2, with a good chance of finishing 7-3.

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The college hoops season will soon be upon us, and SU is getting some votes in the preseason men's Division III polls.  Not many, to be sure, but that indicates the progress the Mustangs have made under the current coaching regime.  The women were rated third in the Middle Atlantic Conference.  Since the ladies are literally returning everyone from last season's 14-14 team, 2014-15 could be their best season in quite some time.  Stay tuned.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

A POST "DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE" PERSPECTIVE: "The City Under the Ice" (Gladstone DUCKTALES #12, March 1990)

There's a good deal of irony packed into that William Van Horn cover image.  Those of us who remember the original DUCKTALES comics line -- the one that Disney more or less forced upon a reluctant Gladstone Comics in 1988 as a way of promoting the red-hot TV series -- mentally divide the 13 issues that followed into two groups:

(1)  The Disney Studio stories, some of which directly adapted episodes of the series, such as "Armstrong" (DT #1) and "Jungle Duck" (DT #2).

While the adaptations may not have been top-notch, they were pure genius compared to the original Studio stories that followed -- stories that were notorious for gaffes in characterization (e.g., Webby calling her grammy "Mrs. Beakley" in "The Crown Jewels Affair" [DT #4]) and an UTTER, as opposed to a partial, lack of inspiration.  Just about the only things that these issues had going for them were the lively and detailed covers by Daan Jippes.  It certainly wasn't Daan's fault that these eye-catching covers promised adventure and excitement that the stories inside so miserably failed at delivering.

(2) In the back of DT #6, backing up yet another blah Studio lead, was an intriguing bauble that pointed directly to DUCKTALES Mark 2.0: "Coin of the Realm," a ten-page tale written and drawn by Bill Van Horn.  Recall that, up to this point, Van Horn was known to Gladstone readers primarily as "the guy who does the fillers and gag pages."  The former included a couple of humorous GYRO AND LAUNCHPAD four-page stories in DT #4 and 5.  "Realm" was of an entirely different scope and immediately seemed more entertaining than any of the mush and dribble that had been regularly doled out to us.

And so, beginning with DT #7, Van Horn -- with occasional assistance from John Lustig -- began to produce lead stories for the title.  These quickly became so popular that, when Gladstone temporarily reverted to Studio fodder with DT #9's "The Oil Pirates," the dropoff in quality was almost jarringly noticeable.  Van Horn was back on the job in DT #10, producing "The Whistling Ghost," a 16-page feature story that brought back Baron Itzy Bitzy, the whistling flea character that Bill had introduced in one of his non-DUCKTALES efforts.

Van Horn would likewise provide the lead stories for issues #11 and #13, the last of which, "The Billion-Bean Stampede," may well be the most memorable of all of these highly quirky efforts.  For sure, it had the zaniest cover.

These romps are warmly remembered, not least because they cemented the bond of fondness between American Disney comics fans and Van Horn, who, unlike Don Rosa, didn't make a splashy debut, but patiently worked his way up the ladder and amassed good will a bit at a time.  (Somehow, I think that Scrooge would approve.)  And yet... and yet... as enjoyable as these stories were, I think that fan-friend Pete Fernbaugh was correct when he said that they came across as VAN HORN stories more than they did DUCKTALES stories.  Van Horn seemed uninterested in using any original DuckTales creations other than Launchpad.  While Bill handled LP quite well, his approach seemed uncomfortably close to the lazy Studio practice of creating a DT story simply by plugging LP into the Donald slot in an otherwise conventional "Scrooge and the Ducks" narrative.  (The GYRO AND LAUNCHPAD stories, by contrast, didn't seem quite so atypical, primarily because Van Horn knew how to take advantage of Launchpad's nature and abilities in such a specialized setting.) Needless to say, there was never anything conventional about Bill's approach, but, the more he tried to "wacky" things up by dropping in zany rock concert promoters, lively legumes, and so forth, the more his tales got pulled away from anything resembling what DuckTales had given us during its wide-ranging first season.

The bottom line is that neither of the aforementioned groups contain what one might characterize as a legitimately authentic, high-quality comic-book adaptation of the TV series.  Pretty unfortunate for a title that was supposed to be providing readers with the equivalent of the DuckTales animated experience, only on the printed page.  But then, we get to issue #12, which... stands apart.  Boy, does it ever.

During the last several months in which it held the Disney comics license, Gladstone had converted its titles into a double-sized format, the better to pump out as much "classic" material and heretofore unseen overseas delights as possible before the "window of opportunity" closed and the Disney Company took over.  (These included lengthy stories by the Italian great Romano Scarpa, who was a complete revelation to us notoriously insular Americans at the time.)  In DT #12, Gladstone finally took full advantage of the extra space to showcase "The City Under the Ice," a 39-page French story.  I wonder how many folks saw the Van Horn cover, immediately began thinking of the crazy scenarios and gags that "Silly Billy" might be able to stage in that gelid setting, and then really froze up when the first page of "City" displayed "something completely different."

According to Inducks, "City" is the second longest standalone DUCKTALES comic-book story ever produced, trailing only "The Curse of Flabberge," which David Gerstein so memorably "reimagined" for Boom!'s UNCLE $CROOGE during its DuckTales phase.  The creation of the story was very much an international affair. It was written by Frenchman Patrick "Zack" Galliano, whose previous authorial credits included PIF LE CHIEN, a creation of the French Communist paper L'HUMANITE; penciled by the Spanish artist Maximino, who did quite a bit of work for Mondadori, the Italian Disney comics publisher at the time; and inked by the staff of the Barcelona-based Comicup Studio.  Oddly enough, a similar combination of French, Spanish, and Catalan talents worked on "The Curse of Flabberge."  The artwork for "City" is a little rougher and livelier, all things considered.

The "Americanization" of the story was done by Gladstone and Disney Comics stalwart Dwight Decker.  During the Gemstone and Boom! Comics years, we got used to imaginative, reference-packed transformations of the utilitarian English dialogue that was normally provided to scripters.  Even the more sedate efforts along these lines had a touch of class.  (At least, I like to think that I provided one.)  Decker's translation, while sturdy enough, is more of the vanilla variety, though he does throw in a contemporary reference to some briefly famous pop star whom I don't have the time to research right now.  I wonder whatever happened to the guy.

While it certainly doesn't have the sheer scope of "The Gold Odyssey," or even the more modest "Scrooge's Quest," neither is "City" a sprawling, shambolic wreck on the order of "Rightful Owners."  The best praise that I can offer to it -- praise that will seem more meaningful when you consider when this tale was produced -- is that it gets the DuckTales aspects right.  It has a few quirks of its own, but the plot is easily recognizable as one that might have sprung up in an episode of the TV show, the characters involved are bang-on in character, there is a splendid reference to an infamous event that occurred on screen, and there's a pleasing mix of action and humor.  For that reason, I consider "City" to be the first TRULY successful DUCKTALES comic-book story to appear in America, at least when "successful" is interpreted in a strictly DuckTales-oriented context.

** SPOILERS **

We start with that classic McGuffin: a long-lost, well-hidden treasure map.  During the skateboard mishap pictured above, the ambulating Eskimo drops a bone that proves to be hollow.  The map inside points the way to a stark Arctic peak on Chilblain Island where (according to... no, not the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, but a convenient Arctic exhibit at the Duckburg Museum) a legendary "sun of gold" once fell and is now buried beneath the ice, along with the artifacts of a "mysterious civilization."  (Hey, if Golden Sun worship can occur on one peak, then it certainly can on another.)  Unfortunately, the Beagle Boys get wind of the find, as well, thanks to their capture of the unfortunate Eskimo.

Yup, them's the DuckTales Beagles, all right. And they're all in character, too, suggesting that Decker must have been paying attention when he viewed whatever episodes he viewed in order to prepare for this gig.  This should NOT be passed over lightly.  Not after a later story like "The Great Chase" (Disney Comics DT #16, September 1991, written by Frank Ridgeway of "Bermuda Triangle Tangle" fame) gave us the memorable sight of a kick-ass, take-charge Burger and a whimpering Big Time and Bankjob deferring to him. As things turn out, the Beagles of "City" will have far more to offer to the discriminating fan than simply looking and acting as they ought to.

Up in Canada's Northwest Territories, a somewhat headstrong Launchpad gets involved in a fracas at a honkytonk -- it isn't explicity referenced as such, but I think we all know better -- and is bailed out by Walking Mountain, a giant, stone-faced, and inscrutable Native American.  The grateful Ducks invite WM to accompany them to the treasure site... which, when you come to think of it, is rather peculiar.  He turns out to be helpful at various times and utters some (yep) appropriately inscrutable remarks, but welcoming the assistance of a complete stranger was, shall we say, not S.O.P. in the TV adventures... or in Carl Barks' adventures, for that matter.

The heart of the story features the Ducks' journey to the legendary Bear's Tooth peak and the Beagles' various efforts to stop them.  We start with a pretty bog-standard version of the "paper-thin disguise" routine...

 Well, their number plates aren't visible, at least.

... which leads to sabotage, a crash, and an unpleasantly close encounter with a polar bear.  The Ducks get out of the fix when Scrooge resorts to the somewhat extreme tactic of lighting the crashed plane on fire "to scare the bear away."  The Ducks' on-board flares subsequently go off, alerting a passing ship to their presence.  As solutions to dilemmas go, this is closely allied to suicide.  But then, the "Type A" Scrooge of this story would probably be tunnel-visioned enough to try it.  We soon see more evidence of Scrooge's mental state when Scrooge poor-mouths in dramatic style in order to rent a snowmobile at a lower-than-rock-bottom price.  A bit over the top, perhaps, for the Alan Young DuckTales Scrooge, but, hey... it's in character.

Upping the ante, the Beagles track the Ducks' snowmobile with one of their own... armed with a gun, no less.  Chisel McSue would be proud, fellas.  Walking Mountain displays some fancy driving in order to get the gang out of harm's way, but the Ducks soon discover that the Beagles had sabotaged their gas cans back at the Eskimo town.  Left to starve and/or die of cold on the Arctic ice, Walking Mountain suggests a rather unusual tactic to attract animals that could (per the JW Guidebook, which HD&L belatedly consult here) be used for food:

Another in-character moment.  It's easy to imagine Launchpad getting into the spirit of things that way.  Alas, the ululations only serve to "attract" the Beagles' ice-breaking submarine. (Did the Beagles have their working boots on in this story, or what?  Makes some of their feebler second-season efforts seem all the more annoying, doesn't it?)  Thrown into the sub's brig along with the Eskimo, the Ducks have little to do but wait out the ride to the Bear's Tooth.

As the Beagles prep for treasure-hunting, Walking Mountain gets his funniest moment of the adventure:

Thanks to a conveniently placed thin crust of ice, our heroes are sent hurtling down, down... to this:


So, where's the gold?  The Ducks find out when they discover a hidden laboratory, a high-tech sarcophagus, and its completely unexpected owner:

Yes, folks, it's an alien, a Thulian (clever reference, that) who was left behind by an exploration party that had to retreat because of the cold weather.  Inouk was put into the deep freeze with the understanding that his friends would ultimately come back to get him.  The "sun of gold" turns out to have been the golden spaceship that brought Inouk and his people to Earth.  You realize what that means, Scroogie: these guys live on a planet where gold is so common that it can be used to build spaceships -- not the "structural metal" of first choice for me, but to each his (or its) own -- and therefore...

And Scrooge didn't even go through the intermediate stage of hiccuping: he went right to a dead faint.  Any direct reference to "Too Much of a Gold Thing" can't get enough praise from me.  This was the point at which I knew that Dwight Decker had REALLY, REALLY taken his responsibilities seriously. Bless him.

At this point, you're probably wondering whether the story is going to end in the cataclysmic manner of "Gold Thing."  Well, the Beagle Boys are tooling around while operating heavy machinery.  What do YOU think?  

The Ducks' plight isn't as desperate as it was in "Gold Thing," but it comes pretty close.  As if to make up for the shortfall, the mode of the Ducks' salvation is a bit more esoteric than Launchpad flying in the transport plane just in the nick of time.  Here, Inouk flies the gang out of danger using his "golden egg" sarcophagus (which turns out to be a small spacecraft, as well) as the City of Gold, in the manner of its namesake in a Kimba the White Lion episode, collapses into oblivion.  Scrooge takes this development with considerably less grace than he did at the end of "Gold Thing."  Perhaps writer Galliano was letting his inner "L'HUMANITE contributor" out for a little holiday here.


The story's final two pages are a bit displeasing, if only because:

(1) The Beagles are allowed to scuttle away, more or less scot-free.  After that performance, they deserved the dignity of a stay in a luxury high-security prison, at the very least.

(2) Inouk's "rescue ship" just happens to have been located on the Moon all along -- a fact of which Inouk himself appears to have been completely unaware when he went into hibernation mode.  What the heck, was this supposed to be a "monolith test," or something?  Why would Inouk even need one, since his civilization is capable of space travel?

Yeah, I'm just as confused as you are, buddy.

The fact that I have to pick such a tiny nit in order to give "The City Under the Ice" anything less than unqualified praise indicates just how strong this story really is.  It's easy to understand why it sort of flew beneath the radar at the time of its release: Van Horn's multiple stabs at the DUCKTALES lead story naturally left more of an impression than this one-shot, and Gladstone Comics itself was just about to go into its own form of "prolonged hibernation."  But let's give credit where credit is due.  Speaking strictly of DUCKTALES comic-book stories that appeared in America, "City" is one of the very few that can be said to have done full justice to the TV series.

"Golden Sun."  I like the sound of that...

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My apologies for making you wait so long to see this.  Hopefully, you'll find the wait to have been worth it.  In my next comics review, we'll catch Disney Comics' DUCKTALES title on a similar back end, so to speak, and look at how the book's 18-issue run ended with Bob Langhans' post-"Gold Odyssey" offering, "A Dime in Time."  Is there any way that Langhans could have lived up to the standard set by "Odyssey"?  We shall see.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 100, "The Golden Goose, Part 2"

All good things, etc. and so on... And what better way to close the book on DuckTales: The Series than with a "battle to save the planet" that doesn't involve invading aliens or sketchy science?

If we attend to GeoX's suggestion about the title, then that really should read "The Golden Goose Part I, Part 2."  Under the extra-special circs, I'm willing to let that slide.

"The Golden Goose" was, of course, one of two two-part stories that closed out "Golden Age" WDTVA series, the other being Gummi Bears' "King Igthorn."  It's worth pausing for a moment to compare the approaches taken by these two productions and to consider how -- in my opinion, at least -- "Goose" managed to do right what "King" did wrong.  Now, there's no denying that "King"'s narrative had the massive sweep that Gummis fans had been expecting ever since the Great Gummis' potential return, the city of Ursalia, and the Barbic Bears had been introduced as side elements of the series.  We got payoffs on just about everything (though the still-unseen Great Gummis' vague final promise to return "soon" did disappoint some folks), and virtually every major character of the series got something to do during the course of the 45 minutes.  And that was the problem.  "King" was so ambitious that a good deal of the dialogue was of the "directional" type that you might have heard in an old-time movie serial ("we're going to go with X and rescue Y while you do Z"), and such dramatic moments as the destruction of Gummi Glen by the wood-eating bug Big Tooth, the villains' acquisition of massive quantities of Gummiberry Juice, and Duke Igthorn's long-awaited takeover of Dunwyn Castle whizzed by too quickly to have the walloping impact that they should have. "King" was still an enjoyable ride, but, despite the praiseworthy ambition of the undertaking, a "Peggy Lee" sort of feeling ("Is that all there is?") nonetheless lingered in its wake.

At first glance, "The Golden Goose" seems to suffer from a problem diametrically opposite to that of "King Igthorn" -- not "Is that all there is?" so much as "Is there any THERE there?".  A year before Darkwing Duck's debut, the strangely depopulated Duckburg of "Goose" seems more like the bare-streeted St. Canard during a battle between DW and one of his supervillain foes.  There's no sign of Bubba Duck, Fenton Crackshell, or Gizmoduck.  The minimalist approach seems completely at odds with the apocalyptic vision of the narrative, leaching away a great deal of the "epic scope" that we would normally hope to see in such a tale.  And yet, I would argue that the scantily-furnished stage is actually appropriate here, given that the script chooses to focus on characters' inner turmoil just as much as it does their external challenges.  The decision to strip down to the basics makes the characters' feelings and decisions -- Scrooge's concern for his Nephews, Scrooge's choice to put the fate of the world ahead of any personal considerations, Dijon's fall and subsequent redemption -- seem to carry all the more weight.  Not that there isn't a healthy helping of action, humor, and suspense in this concluding chapter, but we're more inclined to remember the moral dilemmas (there's that phrase again...) and, in Scrooge's case, the satisfying conclusion of a character journey that began with a cranky old Duck swiping cheese samples and ends with a similarly old, but wiser, Duck demonstrating that he has thoroughly internalized all of those proclamations about the value of family and has gained sufficient largeness of soul to extend his vision of "family" to the worldwide community.  There are a few annoying logical hiccups in the story as a whole, but they are not enough to overcome the overflowing feeling of "Heart" that makes "Goose" a classic, almost in spite of itself.

After Frank Welker provides an appropriately non-fruity, on-point summation of the events of Part 1, we cut to the discovery of the statuefied HD&L.  While the reactions of Webby, Duckworth, and Mrs. Beakley are pretty much what we might have expected of them -- actually, Webby manages to keep her cool a bit better than did her gramma, which is pretty remarkable -- Scrooge's is both dramatic and symbolically significant.  He immediately blames his own "greed for gold" for the boys' fate, even though he is clearly not responsible for what has happened to them.  His quick assumption of liability is even more impressive than his shaking-off of the "Gold Fever" in "Too Much of a Gold Thing."  In that case, it took the intervention of Mrs. Beakley reminding him of "what's important" to jolt him out of his obsession.  Here, Scrooge makes the pivot all by himself, with no hesitation whatsoever.  The solution to Moral Dilemma Number 2 (as I described it in my review of Part 1) is already clear: no matter what happens in the future, Scrooge will unquestionably put the welfare of his Nephews ahead of any potential monetary gain.  Incidentally, I think that this lends some credence to my earlier speculation that Scrooge might have been able to maintain some "control" and use the Golden Goose in a more rational and responsible manner after a night of (literally) sleeping on the matter.  When Flintheart Glomgold and the Beagle Boys have their chances to use and/or take control of the Goose, they will demonstrate no such restraint.

In order to set up the remainder of the ep, we're going to have to get an info dump at some point, and Poupon provides one as soon as he arrives at the Mansion, with Dijon in reluctant tow.  Poupon's explanation of the Goose's transformative powers and the possible fate of the world lasts for about one minute and 45 seconds, which wouldn't bother me so much, except for the occasional shots of a frozen Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth staring off into space like goons as he does so.  They should care about the fate of HD&L, too, so this was extremely bad form by Wang Films.  Thankfully, the scene is redeemed by Poupon's dramatic description of the effects of "The Golden Death" ("And all life will be ending... for little golden Ducks... for everyone!") and, of course, Scrooge's decision to let Poupon have the vial of "mystical water" to neutralize the Goose and save the world, as opposed to using it on HD&L right then and there.  Moral Dilemma Number 3 is thereby resolved with crystal clarity, and our opinion of Scrooge as a moral being can't help but be improved as a result.  It's essentially the DT version of Scrooge's dramatic decision to help the outer-space aborigines in Carl Barks' "Island in the Sky," but with considerably more global import involved.

Evidently on something of a roll, Scrooge resorts to some ingenious reverse psychology to keep Webby out of harm's way.  Far from another example of the DT writers showing contempt for Webby -- much less an example of what GeoX called "sub-TOM SAWYER horseshit" -- this exchange shows how much respect Scrooge has gained for Webby's maturity level.  His approach is based on the belief that Webby is responsible enough to willingly take on the task of keeping HD&L safe from further harm (and thereby be protected from harm herself), provided that the offer is tendered in the proper manner.  Scrooge evidently knows enough about the wee lassie to gauge that she isn't likely to resort to, you know, "Plan B" (except under atypical circumstances, such as kidnapping).

The balance of Act One is taken up with some wacky slapstick doings at Glomgold's "abandoned" auto factory.  You'll understand the quote marks when you take a very close look at the upper portion of the following screenshot...

... and, true to this somewhat dubious beginning, the rest of the sequence can fairly be said to be Part 2's weak point.  Granted, there are some decent moments, such as Launchpad's last (real) crash (for a while, anyway)...

... and Dijon's complete cock-up of Moral Dilemma Number 4, in which he opts to indulge his petty kleptomania rather than "dogface up" and deliver the Goose to his brother.  Based on this incident, I guess that we DO have to regard "Attack of the Metal Mites" as canon.  How would Glomgold have known about Dijon's propensity to steal unless Flinty had had some kind of dealings with him in the past?

In between these high points, however, comes... wait for it... yet ANOTHER conveyor-belt sequence.  Sigh.  A little bit of originality, especially in a climactic adventure like this, doesn't seem like too much to ask, does it?  As to how the machinery in this supposedly "abandoned" factory suddenly can operate like (extremely snarky) clockwork...well, to borrow a line of Scrooge's in the DuckTales Remastered video game, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."


The conclusion of Act One, with Glomgold advancing on the captured heroes while holding out the Goose, quickly brings the goofiness to a halt and warns the viewer that some serious stuff is about to go down.  And so it does, as the Goose begins its sequence of transformations, first taking on a life of its own and turning on those who would manipulate it.  The climax of these attacks is chilling in its stark simplicity, with the cornered, cringing Glomgold meeting his fate (which will, of course, implicitly be reversed once "The Golden Death" is overcome, but it's what we SEE that is remembered) and the Goose then flying away, emitting only a few lonely caws.  Leave it to Wang to then muddy the moment a bit by having Poupon speak what is clearly Dijon's line, "Poor Mr. Gloomduck!"  (There's no question that this was a goof, as the voice is definitely that of Richard Libertini, the voice of Dijon.)

Now that the Goose is sentient, I should point out that the creature, far from being some sort of mechanical MacGuffin, is very much of a personality in its own right.  A cranky, somewhat obnoxious personality, but a personality nonetheless.  Such small touches as the Goose charging or lunging madly at various characters, reacting quizzically to Scrooge's use of a goose call in the park, and, later, trying to dope out Dijon's intentions inside the roadside bush, go well beyond what one might have expected here.

Poupon, aggrieved by Dijon's failure at the factory, dismisses Moral Dilemma Number 5 in a heartbeat, brushing aside any notion of forgiveness and angrily demanding that Dijon leave his sight forevermore.  Harsh, to be sure, but not entirely unjustified, given that keeping the world safe from "The Golden Death" is the Brotherhood of the Goose's first and foremost function.  (In Part 1, Poupon mentioned that the Brotherhood also acts "in service to others," but we never do get any details as to what that might entail.  As long as "service" doesn't involve serving the Goose "with gravy and stuffing," as Burger might suggest, I'm OK with the vagueness.)

Following that extremely strange detour to Launchpad's hangar -- surely, they could have pursued the Goose into downtown Duckburg while looking out for a place to get nets at the same time? And why are they watching TV at a time like this, since Scrooge has already pointed out where the Goose was heading? -- Scrooge, LP, and Poupon chase their elusive quarry through an all-but-desolate city setting, winding up at the park.  The slapstick gags here are decidedly muted, an appropriate approach in light of the fact that the crisis is getting graver.  The Beagle Boys' destruction of the water vial is the perfect capper, demonstrating that the Beagles, like Glomgold, are enmeshed in the tendrils of greed, completely heedless of the potential consequences.  Poupon doesn't cover himself in glory in this scene, either; his unnecessary description of what the water will do to the Goose gives the Beagles enough time to stop him before he can actually pour the water.  You already covered this subject back at the Mansion, Poupon; time to be "up 'n doon" instead.

And then... (it is still spine-tingling, no matter how hard-bitten you have become in the quarter-century since then...)

Of course, "The Golden Death" disseminates itself around the world with an exquisite sense of dramatic timing.  It starts off at a crawl, quickly picks up steam, is moving at a sufficiently fast clip to keep up with Launchpad's Joyrider as the latter flies across the ocean, can visibly be seen moving across the globe in the long shot from space, buzzes through Barkladesh like a house afire, and then slows down right before it reaches the door to the temple's fountain room, just long enough to allow Scrooge to save the day.  A very accommodating sort of apocalypse, I must say.  Despite the inconsistency, the mere fact that the "Death" is progressing through what appears to be a completely lifeless landscape makes a signature moment like the loss of Poupon seem all the more compelling and meaningful.  It's like the opposite of a zombie movie or TV show, in that there are very few characters here as opposed to hordes of shambling dead-walkers, but the end results of the two approaches are the same -- they help us to invest all the more in the characters on the side of good.

The rest of Scrooge's family, of course, is caught up in the golden wave along the way.  I like to think of the episode's occasional cutbacks to the Mansion -- and to Gyro's futile efforts to turn the boys back to normal -- as a subtle comment on the vanity of human endeavors in the face of overpowering forces beyond human understanding.  Or, perhaps, it's simply a reflection of the fact that Gyro Gearloose is having an EXTREMELY bad day.  An unfortunate circumstance, given that this is the character's last animated appearance, but it's not as if Gyro hasn't already experienced more than his share of failures during the course of the series.

Thankfully, the forsaken Dijon passes Moral Dilemma Number 6 with flying colors when he decides that he owes it to his brother to return the captured Goose.  As GeoX notes, it is kind of unlikely that Dijon would instantly, and correctly, recognize this generic-looking white goose as THE Goose, and we never do find out when and where Dijon managed to swipe Scrooge's cane, but... poetic license.  I can live with it.  (It would be nice to think that Dijon recognized the Goose's personality, based on what he had seen of it at the factory.  That would have been a worthy justification of the decision to depict the Goose as more than just an anonymous mayhem-maker.)

The climax cannot honestly be faulted.  Oh, it can be flyspecked, since (1) Launchpad magically has enough gas in his Joyrider to fly across a good portion of the Earth's surface without stopping to refuel, and (2) despite LP's claim and Scrooge's subsequent order to crash, there does seem to be enough of a flat surface on the temple mount for LP to make a normal landing.  But you definitely can't say that the episode doesn't drag all of us through a very rough knothole before salvation arrives.

The Mansion wrap-up scene is a bit truncated, but we do get to see all of our principals (save Gyro, for some reason) alive and happy again.  Best of all, we get the concluding hug between Scrooge and HD&L, which it would have been a positive crime to have omitted.  Regarding the rehashing of the ending of DuckTales: The Movie, I didn't have any issue with it back in 1990, but I have to admit that I'm somewhat less enamored of it now.  We know that Dijon, thanks to his decision to return the Goose, now possesses a sense of responsibility and "connectedness" to others that he never had before and, needless to say, did not have at the conclusion of DT:TM.  Why compromise that moral advance for the sake of a cheap gag?  This is one area in which I think "King Igthorn" has the advantage over "The Golden Goose."  The ending of "King" may have fallen short of satisfying the wishes of viewers for all of the loose ends of the series to be completely knotted, but it did possess a certain appropriateness that a fadeout chase does not deliver.  Even rerunning the ending of "Once Upon a Dime" and setting the final scene in the Money Bin would have been better than this.

I can't rank "The Golden Goose" with the very best episodes of DuckTales' first season.  The stripped-down approach may make sense in this context, but it pales in comparison to the richness on display in "Treasure of the Golden Suns" and such half-hours as "Raiders of the Lost Harp" and "The Uncrashable Hindentanic."  One might compare it to "Hero for Hire," which used a not-entirely-dissimilar straightforward approach to make some fairly profound points about Launchpad's character, but you then come up against the undeniable fact that the animation of "Goose" simply doesn't measure up to that of "Hire."  I think that it is fair to say, though, that "Goose" ranks as the second-best of DT's multi-part story lines, carrying more emotional punch than "Catch as Cash Can," avoiding the "falling-off" and "too much slapstick" issues that affected "Super DuckTales," and... well, let's leave "Time in Money" to rest in pieces, shall we?  A solid enough adventure, with equally solid character development -- and, oh, yes, that bit about saving the world... that's a thoroughly respectable way in which to draw the curtain on the series.

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I can't recall who drew this family portrait, but it's a nice one!

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"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) As I said about gold…Scrooge is trapped in this gold sack, but then it cracks open like an egg when it's struck with a gold statuette. I just do not think gold works remotely in that fashion…
("Christopher") The Golden Goose doesn't seem to change the thickness of substances, so if the bedsheet-turned into a sack was turned, it probably was like a few thickness[es] of aluminum foil- too tough for Scrooge to punch through, but easily punctured and then ripped apart once the thick, solid gold statue hit it. I'd need to watch the episode in slow-motion, but I don't think it cracked so much as tore. 


I'll accept Christopher's argument on this issue.  BTW, Geo... note that yet another statue of Scrooge makes its appearance.  Perhaps Scrooge has a higher self-regard than even we realize? 

(GeoX) In spite of the decidedly inconsistent nature of the show, I feel vaguely bereft. 

You can only imagine how I feel.

("Christopher")   Anyway, most of the episodes are all about locating a lost treasure or learning just how important family and friends are in a way that is so heartwarming you want to throw up. Most of the time, Scrooge is just adding more cash to the money bin. Now, he's SAVING THE ENTIRE WORLD. Rag on multi-quadrillionaires all you want, but all of the living creatures on earth owe Scrooge (and Launchpad, Dijon, and Poupon) their lives. This is the biggest thing they've ever done, and notice that Scrooge is [so] happy that HDL can move that he never thinks of using the fact that he's a savior of the world as [a] way to get the upper hand on business deals.

Exactly, exactly, exactlyGive that man a cheroot.

(Greg) Interesting Moment #1: We get the preview of the episode from part one...IN A TWO PARTER! Something TaleSpin and Darkwing Duck never got in their two parters. I believe the narrator for this is Frank Welker [Ed. - yes] since he sounds like Poupon without the accent. Anyhow; at the end of the preview; it's clear there is a Toon Disney edit because when Big Time is about to touch the nephews, he yells gold, then the screen freezes and the scene quickly cuts to the STOCK FOOTAGE OF DOOM. Whoever thought it was a good idea to cut out the nephews turning to gold is on something and they should CUT THE F'N DOSE! Even more so when the scene was completely UNCUT the day before on TOON DISNEY no less. Idiots!

This was clearly a very conscious decision to maintain a bit of suspense for those viewers who might not have seen the transformation because they hadn't seen Part 1. Which makes little sense, actually, because the narration had already TOLD us about "the Golden Goose's golden touch," and the flashback ended with Big Time about to touch Louie on the head.  Simply showing the transformation at the end of the flashback might, in fact, have been the smarter choice here.  (BTW, I don't believe that there was any cut here.)

(Greg) So we cut back to the golden mansion and head to the office as Gyro is running tests on the golden statues of the nephews. Sadly; the numbers do not look good for the nephews as the computer laser doesn't work. G[yr]o checks the printer paper coming out of the printer and speaks some of the most absurd science talk ever that no scientist would be caught dead saying.

Based on the appearance of Gyro's... machine... thingy, it appears that Helper/Little Bulb, or at least part of him, managed to wangle a cameo of sorts.

Psst, Duckworth, Mrs. B... Over here!  Over here!!

(Greg) [The conveyor-belt sequence] IS the Satanic version of How It's Made. AHHAHAHAHAHA!

Except that we START in an "abandoned" factory in this case.  In How It's Made, they typically display the item of interest IN a desolate warehouse, junk-filled basement, weed-strewn back lot, etc. before cutting to the real factory where the manufacturing process takes place.

(Greg) [Dijon] peeps under the bushes and ponders over if he should touch the goose because if he touches wrong he turns to gold. However; he at least must redeem himself even if his brother doesn't want any part of him again thus showing that Dijon is not really a heel; but a misguided soul.

I think that this sums Dijon up pretty well.

Next: Some final thoughts, and a look ahead.