DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 84, "Bubba's Big Brainstorm"

Oh, it's bad, all right... but, with apologies (is that the right word?) to GeoX and Greg, it's not THE WORST, for several nontrivial reasons.  Hear me out, I promise to make this as painless as I can:

(1)  The plot is reasonably coherent and logical, at least until we get to the land of the Ancient Thinkas.  Bubba's technologically augmented brainpower, and other characters' reactions to it, are built up in a reasonably sound fashion.  There can be no comparison with, for example, the grab-bag of Barksian, pseudo-Barksian, and just plain wrong-headed anecdotes that constituted "Once Upon a Dime."  Nor is there any single aspect of the story that is as egregiously idiotic as the "Cancel every deal!" madness that fatally disfigured "Yuppy Ducks."

(2)  The idea of an advanced ancient civilization that fell victim to... well... excessive civilization is a first-rate one and would have made for a superb story-pivot in a better ep.  The Atlantis of Disney's ill-fated (and, in my view, seriously underrated) 2001 feature film isn't all that far removed from the Thinkas' degenerated realm, though the fine details in the former were worked out with more success than those in the latter.  It doesn't make sense, for one thing, that the Thinkas' descendants have completely forgotten everything related to the history of the "ancient ones" but still know how to use those laser spears, or electric cannons, or whatever they are.  (How lucky for them that the weapons didn't break down or malfunction during that degenerative interregnum, eh?)  For the Carl Barks enthusiasts in the audience, the cluelessness of the tech-garbed natives furnishes an amusing contrast to the spirited Cura de Coco primitives of "A Spicy Tale" (UNCLE $CROOGE #39, September 1962), who gleefully await the instructions from "Tutor Corpsman" Donald that will lift them out of ignorance and onto the lofty plinth of comprehending contemporary pop culture.

(3)  While the Nephews are poorly characterized here -- seriously, straight-A students one minute, unable to complete a simple picture puzzle the next? -- and their bilious kvetching about the super-smart Bubba gets real old real fast, they're not AS badly characterized as they were in "Yuppy Ducks."  Heck, HD&L fans should be positively ecstatic at the boys' report cards after the strong hint in "Raiders of the Lost Harp" that they were struggling in school.

(4)  Frank Welker's riff on William F. Buckley, Jr. as the voice of genius Bubba is truly something special, even for that preternaturally gifted dialectician.  The use of Buckley as a voice-source bespeaks a certain level of faith in the sophistication of the audience (or at least its older contingent).  While Buckley was still very much in the public eye in the late 80s, he wasn't quite as prominent as he had been in the 60s and 70s, and his long-running PBS series Firing Line was winding down.  DuckTales deserves credit for eschewing the use of a generic "arrogant nerd" voice and going "full full-of-oneself" with this parody.  I've long since found that I don't have to enjoy what Buckley-Bubba is actually saying in order to mine a great deal of enjoyment out of this portrayal. 

 

(5)  There are one or two decent jokes scattered about here.  "You may now pass 'go' and collect 200 fish skins," for one, never fails to get a chuckle out of me.

The above being said -- or, should I say, being tremblingly brought forth for consideration by the "Brainstorm"-bashers -- there's no doubt that this ep does get a whole lot of things wrong, starting with the moral.  Ugh, that hideous moral.  DuckTales didn't partake of a whole lot of moralizing, and that was a very good thing at the time, since so many of the Smurfs-influenced "happy little get-along friends" cartoons of the 80s had well and truly put the stink on that approach to cartoon-making.  What morals DT did dispense tended to be innocuous, decaffeinated ones such as "be yourself," "have faith in your abilities," and "family is more important than money."  Up until "Brainstorm," the biggest mistake that the series had made with morals was plugging them into pre-existing stories where they frankly weren't needed, such as in "Down and Out in Duckburg."  "Brainstorm" blew such errors completely out of the water by getting its "intellectuals are all head and no heart" moral wrong.  Even had genius Bubba been portrayed as a thoroughly despicable character, this simplistic contention would have been a tough sell.  The problem is that Bubba is much more what Greg and other pro-wrestling enthusiasts would call a "tweener" than an out-and-out nogoodnik.  He does make with the egotistical comments, but, seriously, are they all THAT much more offensive than what we would later hear from Darkwing Duck?  As both Greg and GeoX point out, his ability to save the gang by solving various conundrums in the Thinka pyramid makes the negative reactions of HD&L, in particular, seem somewhat hypocritical.  The killing blow, so to speak, is the conversation between Scrooge and Bubba right before Bubba reverts back to his old self, during which Bubba (1) claims that his treasure-hunting efforts were only meant to please Scrooge and (2) voluntarily decides to murder his intellect for the immediate good.  The irony is that, were genius Bubba really as cold-hearted as Scrooge claims, he would never have decided to revert back in the first place (arguing that "the world can't be deprived of a genius like mine," or some such) and might even have decided to keep the treasure for himself (on the grounds that even Scrooge is too primitive-minded to make the very best of his gains).  There was no good way out of this emotional cul-de-sac.  In order to get out of the dilemma of dementalizing Bubba, the whole point of the episode had to be undercut... which means that the point probably shouldn't have been made in the first place.

The ep, of course, piles on its attempted moral (perhaps hoping that repetition will help to ram the point home) with the revelation of the "treasure," the book telling the story of the Thinkas' civilization.  The very existence of this artifact is extremely problematic unless one posits that a proverbial "last Thinka" was able to produce it before perishing, a la the "last Sobram" in the Lost in Space episode "The Flaming Planet."  The Sobram was more than willing to include the tidbit that his was a prideful warrior race whose demise was largely self-inflicted; I have a harder time accepting the notion that any Thinka would be quite so honest about his civilization's inability to combat "the monsters of [its] time."  (If the Thinkas really had become as heartless as the book claims, then wouldn't they have found it easier to lie about their past and make it seem as though their demise was less pathetic than it truly was?  Wouldn't such technologically advanced "hollow beings" have been just as likely to build "weapons of mass destruction" to ruthlessly obliterate their foes as they were to have quailed before them?)  The Ducks' decision to leave the book with the natives is, of course, supposed to "atone" for Scrooge's earlier, Bubba-influenced decision to take the treasure away from the "hopelessly backwards" locals, but it comes across as even more condescending than the original neo-colonialist sin.  How is learning about the Thinkas' fate going to lead to the descendants themselves reacquiring the knowledge and skills needed to plug back into civilization, even in a cursory sense?

I probably should have been on my guard about this ep's failings based on the opening scene, in which Scrooge declares himself incapable of deciphering the Thinkas' map.  I'm referring, of course, to the presence of mathematical symbols (one of which is clearly discernable, at least) in the upper right corner of the document.  Presumably, it is these markings which have Scrooge stumped.  I've learned through harsh experience NEVER to place complete faith in a pop-culture creation in which mathematics is equated with esoteric science -- unless, of course, the creator himself has significant scientific "street cred."

The revelation of Bubba's straight-Z report card isn't as surprising as the later discovery that these marks represent Bubba's first-grade grades.  If I were Julie Blurf, I don't know but what I'd be somewhat insulted by this.  In "Bubbeo and Juliet," Julie certainly didn't seem to be a first-grader; at a guess, I'd have thought that she would be around the Nephews' age and perhaps a little older than Webby.  Yet, there she was, taking art class with Bubba.

I'm not sure whether to classify Gyro's pressure-cooker "thinking cap" as a success or a failure.  I mean, it did its job, didn't it? -- it made Bubba smarter.  There's no indication that a design flaw in the "cap" caused the super-smart Bubba to become an obnoxious know-it-all, and Bubba's later self-adjustments of his cranial capacity -- the ones that caused his head to swell to a positively frightening extent -- weren't sanctioned by Gyro.   It's a shame that DuckTales didn't see fit to reproduce Gyro's "thinking cap" from the comics, but I can understand the DT creative staff wanting to avoid having to explain those birds in Gyro's belfry.

"Let's do the Beak Warp again!"  On second thought, let's not.

The rest of a longish Act One follows the subsequent blossoming of Bubba's intellect (and ego), culminating in his cracking of the Thinka map mystery.  It's unfortunate that the ep didn't make more of this latter achievement.  Hearing Bubba explaining exactly how he deciphered the mathematical symbols on the map would certainly have been more interesting than having him spout and scribble various forms of quantitative nonsense in a lazy effort to convince the audience that, yes, folks, he REALLY IS THAT SMART.  ("Pi squared to the 27th degree," my ass.  I can accept "fifth-grader" Huey not knowing what pi is, but Bubba's line is sheer gibberish.)  It's not just those with a mathematical calling who should feel vaguely insulted here; I was unaware, for one thing, that sectioning a pie chart and drawing a sine curve, among other actions, constituted coming up with great "business ideas."

It goes without saying that HD&L don't exactly cover themselves with glory here, for all of Bubba's gloating egotism goading them into acting like jealous jerks.  The HD&L I know might have taken Bubba's intellectual pretensions as a challenge and tried to match him in brainpower (probably with the help of the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook) while demonstrating that one doesn't have to be "all head and no heart."  Instead, they take the easy road and blow him off, even when a failure of his intellect (such as when he has trouble figuring out the ancient computer) might mean their doom.  At least the lads aren't presented as dolts the better to contrast with genius Bubba, that painful inability to solve the puzzle aside.

I'd have to agree with Greg that the inclusion of Launchpad as pilot here would have made the experience more enjoyable.   LP's reactions to the brainy Bubba would surely have been more entertaining than HD&L's, since he is perfectly aware of his own intellectual limitations and has no real problem with them.  Since "Brainstorm" counts as one of the few legitimate adventures (OK, quasi-adventures; we probably don't spend quite enough time in the Thinkas' realm to make that particular cut) of the Bubba-Fenton era, it's a shame that Launchpad couldn't come along for the ride.  Lastly, I fully agree with HD&L; LP would have found some way to fly a plane without wings.  I also think that he would have produced a more interesting crash than the relatively bland one we wound up with here.

While it does have its share of moments to shine, Act Three, the big Thinka payoff, is where this ep really falls down, starting with that first native encounter.  The degenerated locals aren't offensive so much as they are incoherently characterized.  They wear the remnants of the Thinkas' civilization as clothing and jewelry and still know how to operate the laser weapons... right.  The chief can barely speak one minute ("Uhhh... What you doin' here?") and is capable of speaking reasonably coherent sentences the next.  Worst of all, even a "primitive mind" would have realized that the arrival of "someone as smart as the ancient ones" represents a golden opportunity to recover the Thinkas' treasure.  Instead, the natives throw the "trespassing" Ducks into the pyramid... which just happens to be where the treasure is located?!  If you're going to do that, then why not ask the visitors to help find the treasure in the first place?  There are bits and pieces of a clever concept here, but writers Mark Seidenberg and Evelyn Gabai evidently couldn't be bothered to construct a medium in which to set them.

The booby traps set by the Thinkas to protect the treasure vault are reasonably clever, with one hideous, cawing, badly-designed exception.  Since the vault is intact, I presume that no Thinka descendant ever made an effort to dope out the musical tones on the ancient computer that neutralized the self-destruct operation (you'd think that some venturesome soul would have tried it, back when the natives weren't quite as bad off as they are now...), or to outwit the "riddle box."  The really peculiar thing about this sequence is the mere fact that the natives follow the Ducks into the vault after having tossed them there.  What motivated them to do that?  Was it the sound of the earth shaking when the self-destruct countdown was activated?  And, if it were, why should the natives even care that some "trespassers" are crushed?  The setup seems like a convenient way to have the natives on hand for the denouement, but the same effect would have been achieved had the natives stayed outside the vault and the Ducks had come out to give them the book in the end.  At the very least, Greg wouldn't have been driven crazy by the idea that the natives couldn't follow the Ducks when the former reached the three-way "fork in the tunnel."  (In truth, based on the visual evidence, I think it was entirely possible that the natives didn't see the Ducks take the center route.)

The appearance of the cockatrice marks a truly painful visual moment.  The design, the animation, the "voice"... all are simply dreadful.  Even the monster of "Ali Bubba's Cave" was well thought out compared to this.  The effect, of course, is to make what is supposed to be a terrifying foe (presumably, similar to the ones that destroyed the Thinkas in earlier times -- though how the Thinkas managed to train this one to be a guardian is beyond me) seem positively ludicrous.  The wonderful, eerily-lit shot of the Nephews and Tootsie trapped inside the crevice is completely neutralized, as is the restored Bubba's ultimate "clubba-ring" of the hilariously homely beastie.  You also have to wonder what happened to the cockatrice after it was thrown into the midst of the natives and subsequently literally backed out of the scene.  I hardly think that it was the type of creature to graciously retreat and allow the characters to dispense a moral that had already been made more than perfectly clear.

In the end, even one of Frank Welker's most memorable performances can't save this badly-conceived production from itself.  It's not the Spawn-of-Hell, "F*** you, DuckTales" travesty that some have made it out to be -- as I've said before, I'm convinced that this sort of fiery reaction is primarily ideologically driven, and there is a difference between disliking an episode because of poor writing and characterization and disliking an episode because you don't happen to agree with the philosophical point it's trying to make -- but the negative portrayal of intellectualism is certainly annoying enough without ladling left-wing animus on top of it.  For me, the saddest thing about "Brainstorm" is its tacit admission that Bubba, as a character in and of himself, is fatally lacking, and that you need to give the character a complete makeover in order to make him remotely interesting.  This is as good as a confession that the inclusion of Bubba in the DuckTales cast was a mistake.  Bubba will be a decidedly minor player in the series from now on, and I don't think that it's a coincidence.

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Bumper #19: "Doughbegon"

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"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX)  The whole thing resembles some sort of crazed, nationalist rant about intellectuals sapping our National Vigor. And they can't even get that rant right; we're supposed to hold Bubba in contempt for being too cowardly to beat a monster with a club, but wholly unremarked is the fact that, just minutes ago, they would all have been horribly crushed to death if smart-Bubba hadn't been able to correctly answer a series of riddles.

See my point above about HD&L's hypocrisy. 

(GeoX)  As Bubba ineffectually tries to decide which passage to take: "Louie's coin-toss is never wrong, Bubba! We go right!" Yeah! Your élitist commie faggot book learnin' is no match for our good old-fashioned common-sense salt-of-the-earth, uh, blind luck! Christ, guys…

It isn't even as common-sensical as all that.  Why would you use a two-sided coin to choose which of THREE paths to take? 

(GeoX) Also, note the way it's made quite clear that Bubba isn't just smart-Bubba; he's a completely different person (as explicitly evinced by the way he says "goodbye" and "I'm back!" when changing back to "normal"). We don't even want to suggest that Bubba could even potentially have something of the Evil Intellectual in him. God forbid.

That last bit doesn't bother me so much as the mere fact that the "recovered" Bubba is aware of what has happened to him.  That seems more troubling, in a sense, than smart Bubba's dismissal of his "primitive" past life. 

(GeoX) "How long is a piece of string?" "[It's] Twice the distance from the center to either end!" So the answer is "twice as long as half a piece of string?" And only the genius could figure that out? Ducktales' idea of relative intelligence is kind of terrifying.

Hey, at least that was more imaginative than the nursery-school riddles that made up the remainder of the trap-quelling trilogy. 

(Greg) ...Bubba proclaims that he has ideas to boost [Scrooge's] profits as shown on his notepad. Scrooge loves this and offers [to let him] stay in the mansion as a reward. Okay; I got to admit, they booked this scene right since Scrooge loves Bubba as this because it benefits him. And Bubba seems to have no trouble with Scrooge anymore. It doesn't save the rest of this episode; but this scene doesn't insult me like the rest of it.

Scrooge's characterization in this episode is not without its own share of problems.  One can easily imagine him falling in love with the super-smart, business-savvy Bubba, or even agreeing with Bubba that the natives don't "deserve" to keep the treasure (Scrooge has a knack for justifying such actions to himself without any outside assistance).  But blowing off the "appointment-less" Nephews when they come to the "Think Tank" and want to play with Bubba?  That seems rather harsh.  Needless to say, Scrooge is quick to recover his senses when his family members are in danger, the better to provide a contrast to the dismissive Bubba.

(Greg) Scrooge can smell the treasure; Dewey only smells trouble as the walls pop up surrounding them and they then for some reason push right towards them. I'm not going to point out the obvious logic break here because it is such a waste of my time...CLIMB OUT YOU F***S~!

"Climb out?  Why, I, I wouldn't know where to begin."

(Greg) Yeah; apparently; the ancient thinkers were so smart that they used picture books instead of complex words with no pictures in it. UGH!

Actually, I don't have a problem with this.  The Thinkas might have reasoned that those who came after them would be less advanced than they were, so why not tell the story in a simple a manner as possible?


Next: Episode 85, "Dough Ray Me."

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 75, "Super DuckTales, Part Five: Money to Burn"

"Can ["Super DuckTales"] get any more overbooked?" asked Greg at the start of his review of "Money to Burn."  Paraphrasing Gizmoduck himself:  It CAN?  Yes, I guess it can.

Overbooked and, sadly, underedited.  The evidence that "SDT" was something of a rush job, which has been trickling in throughout the serial, pours out in a gush in this final chapter, in the manner of the "Lake Dobegon Money Dam" bust that climaxed "Liquid Assets."  Clearly at a loss as to how to stretch the "longest sustained Beagle Boy assault on Scrooge's money in history" (yeah, I'm allowed to swipe from myself) out to cover an additional 22 minutes, Ken Koonce and David Weimers execute the sire of all "swerves" by anticipating one of the future cardinal rules for Quack Pack writers: When in doubt, throw in a space alien.  In all honesty, the shift in focus does result in a fair amount of clever humor, not to mention a large number of much-appreciated sci-fi and pop-culture shoutouts, and it gives Scrooge, Gizmoduck, and Launchpad the only chance that they will ever have to share an adventure together.  Unfortunately, the Beagle Boys plot threads aren't "tied up" as much as they are balled up and tossed carelessly into the corner, as if the audience is expected to forget that the Beagles' takeover of Scrooge's mansion, subversion of Duckburg's justice system, and so forth ever happened.  This is considerably more insulting to the viewers' intelligence than the fuzzy "explanation" for the Beagles' sudden presence on Duckbill Island with Glomgold in "Ali Bubba's Cave."  The audience's patience is further tested by a series of events that are logically absurd even by the comparatively lax standards of a DuckTales space saga.  Marrying visual indifference to narrative laxity, Wang Films chooses this final chapter of the serial to "blow" its proverbial "fuse," littering our path with visual mistakes and obvious goofs that wouldn't have passed muster if the production had been subjected to normal quality control inspection.  The result is a climactic chapter that, while it's certainly memorable, can't honestly be classified as great, except insofar as it gives Fenton ample opportunity to prove his full worth as both himself and Gizmoduck.

The Scrooge-Launchpad-Gizmoduck troika turns out to be a winning combination, and I commend Koonce and Weimers' ability to keep the distinctions between the two original creations clear, much as "Three Ducks of the Condor" managed to perform a balancing act between LP and Donald.  We get a quick taste of this right off the bat, as the trio prepare to join the hordes of Duckburgians in search of the sunken Money Bin (which, lest we forget, sank in clear view a mere couple of hundred of feet off shore, but let's not visit that subject again).  Gizmo is all ready to make a bombastic pronouncement about the Ducks' impending investigation, but LP quite literally squelches him and directs him inside the sub -- a perfect reaction for a character who, despite his occasional bouts of braggadocio, is all about deeds, rather than words.

The peculiar use of a literal "space plane," the USS Jumpstart ("USS"?  Shouldn't that be "DSS," for Duckburg Space Ship, given that Duckburg has its own space agency?), provides the excuse for LP to serve as pilot during the Ducks' mission to track the alien robots who have made off with the Money Bin.  The Jumpstart, with its theoretically unnecessary clutch, wipers, and open-able windows, gets a sufficient amount of air time that I wonder whether K&W had the intention of bringing the craft back in some future episode.  If doing so would have allowed Launchpad to participate in another "adult teamup," then I would have been all for it.

On the robot planet, Gizmoduck, of necessity, does most of the fighting, but Launchpad does get one glorious moment to shine when he and Scrooge are attempting to launch the Jumpstart from the edge of the cliff.  When LP pushed the Jumpstart over the edge and hung onto the wing for dear life while waiting for Scrooge to pop the clutch, who wasn't thinking of the pilot's condor-back flight during "Three Ducks of the Condor"?  "Flyin' coach" was even more problematic here because LP had to figure out a way to get from the wing to the cockpit before the Jumpstart plunged into the lava (or molten metal, or whatever it was).  Given the structure of the Jumpstart, this feat would literally seem impossible, but, true to Scrooge's tribute at the end of "Launchpad's First Crash," LP finds a way to make the impossible possible. It's a moment of derring-do to rival anything we saw during the first season, and, Scrooge verbally acknowledges the fact after the two have flown to safety, as well he should.  It also marks the literal end of an era: it's almost literally the last time that Launchpad will be allowed to BE Launchpad, in the most dramatic sense, before the onset of the Darkwing Duck neutering process.     

We never do find out exactly what happened when Gizmoduck "pushed all his buttons" and destroyed Planet MEL.  This is actually a harbinger of sorts of what's to come insofar as Gizmo's battles are concerned.  Believe it or not, this is the last time that we will ever see Gizmo using his deadliest weapons (the "torsal torpedoes" and such) in any major manner.  His future missions will generally involve him using his flying abilities, extendable arms and legs, speed, and the occasional quirky gadget (e.g. the "microscopic handcuffs" that he intends to use on the Metal Mites), but missiles, rockets, and other explicitly military-style paraphernalia?  Not so much.  This is so remarkable that I have to wonder whether it was a conscious decision.  The production crew even seems to have become somewhat leery of Gizmo using gadgets in general; how many of the items pictured below ever made another appearance, even one in jest?

Gizmoduck's track record on the robot planet isn't spotless -- he did get walloped by that first bunch of robot guards -- but, before we're done, we just know that Launchpad, as is his wont, is going to trump any mechanical error of Gizmo's with a mental rock of his own.  This comes to pass when LP accidentally releases the Money Bin into Earth's atmosphere... and now the obsessed Scrooge, heretofore mainly a captive and/or ineffective kvetcher, gets his moment in the unfiltered rays of the Sun.  Of course, GeoX is correct in criticizing the "scientific research" that went into putting Scrooge's "space swim" together (though the truth of the matter turns out to be a little more complicated than one would think), but, given such conveniences as days-long trips to other planets (a la the speedy trips to and from Mars in "The Right Duck"), holes and doorways on spacecraft that don't cause air to be sucked into the vacuum, and the like, it's difficult to get too bent out of shape about it.  Besides, it sets up a really neat homage to Slim Pickens' missile-ride near the end of Dr. Strangelove (1964).

The reason for the Strangelove call-back becomes chillingly clear when the Bin lands back atop Killmotor Hill accompanied by a massive flash that looks for all the world like a nuclear detonation.  K&W seem to have assumed that, since no actual explosion was involved, none of the nearby buildings would have been destroyed.  I find that exceptionally hard to believe.  At the very least, the shock wave would have blown out all the windows in the area as surely as the baby Yeeker shattered all the Protectoglass at the conclusion of "The Unbreakable Bin."  A few of the flimsier buildings would probably have bitten the dust, as well.  Then there's the little matter of damage to the Bin itself.  Not even Scrooge's installation of a bin bottom with the toughness of a command module's heat shield (I guess that the events of "A Drain on the Economy" must have scared him into doing something about that vulnerability) would have prevented a structure that has been cracked and pierced by far less stringent shocks in the past from sustaining some massive trauma.  I mean, the force of the blow was strong enough to peel the highway off of its foundation like a bandage being pulled off a person's skin (leading to a particularly visceral form of Karma being visited upon the puzzlingly unpunished Beagles' heads).  If you asked me which climax was more outlandish -- the destruction of the Valley of the Golden Suns or the Bin's thunderous touchdown -- I might just pick the latter.

While the absurdities of "Burn" wind up burying the viewer's logical faculties as thoroughly as the displaced highway obliterated Ma Beagle's cottage, the serial's thematic continuity -- that of Fenton gradually realizing and taking full advantage of his own capacities -- did carry through in rock-solid fashion to the very end, completely independent of the planet on which the action was taking place.  After defeating MEL in the counting contest armed only with his wits ("no cracks about going into battle unarmed!") and returning to Earth, Fenton proceeds to take on two of his other personal demons, reading his lazy "M'Ma" the riot act and ginning up enough courage to ask Gandra Dee for a date that, as things turned out, hadn't previously materialized only because of his own lack of self-confidence.  The latter two scenes hit exactly the right emotional notes -- yes, even including the "facedown" scene in the trailer, which some elements of today's viewing public might regard as bordering on verbal domestic violence -- and allow us to exit with a smile on our faces, not to mention a sense of legitimate anticipation as to what challenges Fenton (as opposed to Gizmoduck) might have to take on in the future.

Tucked in between these moments, however, is the post-touchdown scene in the Money Bin, hereafter to be known as the "Two Somebodies (and I'm not kidding)" scene.  After Scrooge gives both Gizmoduck and his "friend" Fenton the promise of continuing employment...

... an ecstatic Gizmoduck exits the Money Bin above the watching figures of HD&L, Launchpad, and... Scrooge?!

One can only assume that "Scrooge 2" is the great-uncle of the notorious "fourth Nephew," Phooey Duck.  Come to think of it, that might help explain all of Phooey's appearances in the Duck comics.  Phooey feels so neglected by his ethereal elder (who, as far as I know, only appears in this one TV episode) that he tries to horn in on the legitimate fun whenever he can.  Needless to say, this visual gaffe ends up detracting somewhat from what should have been a much more powerful scene.

Likewise, it is difficult to become totally invested in the perils of the robot-planet ruckus (Good night, Vic, wherever you are.) when the animation continually performs the visual equivalent of tickling us under the armpits and making us laugh.  Start with one of WDTVA's worst examples of the "Conveyor Belt Of Doom," one rivaling even those seen in Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers' "Mind Your Cheese and Q's" and Bonkers' "Hand Over the Dough."  The problems go well beyond the one Greg mentioned regarding the contradictory directions in which the traumatizing treadmill is shown to be traveling.  Compare Scrooge and Launchpad's position on the belt upon initial placement...

... to their location a nontrivial amount of time later, AFTER Fenton and MEL have had their little enumerational extravaganza AND the revived Gizmoduck has taken out some robot guards:

I suppose that Scrooge and LP slipped into a wormhole in the interim.  (BTW, if they're supposed to be processed into "axle grease," then why are presumably worn-out robots being dumped into the melting pot as well?)  The Money Bin, incidentally, is handled in similarly dilatory fashion; while the framework of the "big machine" (RIP) is stripped and presumably destroyed before the end, the Bin itself is never wrecked or "blasted open," despite the robot workman's announcement that the robots are ready to do the deed before the Ducks are dragged in front of MEL.  While the Bin may not have been thoroughly cooked, it was certainly heated up to sauna-like levels at some point, as it seems to have been reduced in dimension by the time Gizmoduck rescues it and returns it to Scrooge:

The aliens' spacecraft undergo similar waxings and wanings in size.  The first shots of the salvage cruiser zeroing in on the sunken Bin -- bits that obviously take after the opening scenes of the original Star Wars -- suggests that the ship is quite massive:

During the salvage process (aka "The Parting of Duckburg Harbor"), however, the craft appears to have shrunk in size:

Hard to imagine a full-grown Money Bin fitting inside that thing, but it does.  In fact, it has a mechanical claw that literally reaches down, picks up the Bin, and lifts it into the hold.  (Mind you, this is the same Bin that supposedly couldn't be moved while all the money was inside, at least, not until the end of "Full Metal Duck.")  We "supersize it" again after the destruction of Planet MEL, with the alien ship dwarfing the captured Jumpstart...

... and literally covering the entire Duckburgian sky when it comes in for a landing... er, hover... after the Bin has landed.  Hammering home the sheer immensity of the huge ship, Gizmo and Launchpad descend to Earth in a massive elevator-like device that seems to have been inspired by Dune.

What subsequently happened to that gigantic spacecraft?  It had to come down eventually.  My own "headcanon" is that Scrooge's scientists then examined it, discovered the secrets of its operation, and applied them to other projects, ultimately leading to the Duckburg of Carl Barks' "Island in the Sky" at some point in the undefined future.  That would certainly take care of many of the lingering logical problems that I have with that Barks story.  It would also tie in nicely with the retrofitted backstory of Lost in Space that was provided by Bill Mumy in the comics adventure "Voyage to the Bottom of the Soul."

Aside from Fenton getting in touch with his potential for heroism of any sort, the major emotional breakthrough examined here is the maturation of Scrooge and Fenton's relationship.  In all honesty, this material could have been handled more artfully.  The issue I have with it isn't with Fenton's behavior so much as Scrooge's.  After Fenton has been stripped and revealed by MEL, Scrooge's comment about Fenton's "inferiority" probably pulls an automatic guffaw from most viewers, but it's actually out of place.  Granted, Fenton made quite a few goofs on the "Assets" side of the serial's ledger, but shouldn't Scrooge have considered that Fenton also has shown himself to be capable of controlling the Gizmosuit (including during a time period when he did not have access to the manual) and therefore must have something going for him?  A classic example of overreaching while going for a cheap laugh, says I.

While Scrooge and Fenton are being dragged away to what they believe to be a greasy fate, Fenton (no doubt thinking of that earlier "inferiority" remark) tries to convince Scrooge that he is worthy of the miser's trust, but Scrooge appears to have given up all hope.  Again, Scrooge's attitude is the problem here, especially given the parameters established in the TV series.  Has Scrooge forgotten so quickly that his "true wealth" consists of his family (cf. "Once Upon a Dime")?  Wouldn't he feel some sense of responsibility to keep fighting until the end for their sakes?  And wouldn't he appreciate the fact that Fenton is showing the kind of spirit that sustained Scrooge as a youth?  Remember how galvanized Scrooge became when similar points were brought up to him at his lowest ebb during "Down and Out in Duckburg." Why couldn't he bring such points to mind here?  At least Scrooge ultimately comes to acknowledge his errors and give Fenton full credit for coming through in the clutch.

If you're in a forgiving mood, Scrooge's uncharacteristically passive acceptance of his apparent fate here might be written off as a simple oversight, overlooked in the rush to get to the serial's climax.  The handling of the Beagle Boys, by contrast, is just plain sloppy.  They continue to be a part of the narrative in the opening moments of "Burn," commandeering a vessel to go and search for the Money Bin...

... but, after the aliens swoop in, the Beagles are quite literally overshadowed -- victims, along with Scrooge, of the robot craft's powers.

So now the police are going to recover their moxie and take the Beagles into custody, right?  Wrong!  The B-Boys are next seen sitting on Ma Beagle's porch and complaining about being bored.  No explanation is given as to what the legal status of their purchase of Scrooge's Mansion is, whether they are now wanted fugitives, or anything similar.  This could have been their first appearance of the serial, and it wouldn't have made any real difference insofar as their reactions were concerned.  You've heard of hand-waves; this is a veritable hand tsunami.  It's not an outright mistake akin to the problems that dogged the final chapters of "Time is Money," but it's something almost as offensive: It's writing that is contemptuous of its audience.

So where does "SDT" rank among the quartet of DuckTales four- and five-part adventures?  Safely behind "Treasure of the Golden Suns," to be sure, and safely ahead of the even more problematic "Time is Money."  That leaves a direct comparison with "Catch as Cash Can."  I suppose that I'd give the nod to "SDT" due to its sheer scope and the presence of Fenton, who, by and large, makes an extremely successful debut here.  But the call is a little closer than it would have been had I done this comparison back in the late 80s.  Entertaining as "The Birth of Gizmoduck" is and continues to be, the signs of lowering "Cartoon Duck Syndrome" seem rather more ominous now than they did then. 

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Bumper #10: "Dollar"

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"DuckBlurbs" 

(GeoX) Funny bit: as the robot boss [MEL] is claiming to be "the fastest, most sophisticated computer in the universe," it turns its head and you can see the port marked "VHF cable" on the back. 

MEL, of course, was a parody of yet another figure that (quite literally) flashed across the consciousness of America in the late 80's, namely, Max Headroom.  The irony is that the Max Headroom TV series involved a satire of a future dystopia, whereas here, MEL himself is the overbearing authority figure.  Unlike Max, MEL himself is real, rather than virtual, with the pixellated shenanigans being confined to the monitor in his head.

(Greg) The spaceship scans and then beeps white buttons on the bottom of the ship about 15 times and then shoots the laser as the sea parts completely from the ocean as Scrooge is shocked and swears in DUBBED ANIME STYLE (Holy Sesame! Disney Caption ignores this part by the way.)

Scrooge actually said, "Holy Cecil B. DeMille!  The ocean's parting!" referring to the famed parting of the Red Sea in DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1956).  The light-pattern on the ship's hull may also be a movie reference: think Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977).

(Greg) [W]e head inside and see Scrooge, LP and Gizmo Duck pop up from a metal railing and they watch on seeing metal cars in a line as this is really out of the Jetsons' motif now. 

Actually, given the nature of the civilization on Planet MEL, it's like something out of Mega-City One.

(Greg) We pan west to see behind the junkyard Gizmo Duck, Scrooge and Launchpad dressed up in disguises. Sadly; Scrooge's spats give away the cover right in advance. Then for no reason; we cut to them walking across a bridge with glass and metal. So they manage to get past the guards somehow? Logic break #3 for the episode.

Perhaps they waited until the guards marched into the complex and tagged along behind him, in the manner of Dorothy's friends in The Wizard of Oz (1939).  It's not as if Koonce and Weimers haven't swiped from that source before...

(Greg) Scrooge doesn't care how many names he calls [MEL] unless he gives Scrooge his money back of course. MEL no sells because his money is valued as a way to make useful robots. Scrooge calls it a waste which is funny projection considering who is with him now and all those other robots in previous episodes.

I think that Scrooge meant that it would be a waste to turn his money into parts for robots. 

(Greg) MEL breaks down as Fenton bails to the tray and takes one out for him to count and MEL counts them. Fenton calls it wrong because it's nuts instead of bolts. Which is irrelevant since he asked for ball bearings which is logic break #4 for the episode.

I know this was an error of sorts, but I have to applaud K&W for that clever callback to the interview scene in "Liquid Assets."

(Greg) Scrooge apologizes for his treatment of Fenton because it proves that it takes more than a suit of armor to become a hero. And this is why I like Fenton more than Drake because while both of them are full of themselves and REALLY STUPID; Fenton knows how to fold them when it is on the line a lot better than Drake Mallard ever could.

Two lines of Gizmoduck's -- "I am [a hero]?  Yes, I guess I am" and "You had a right to be upset" -- sum up the psychological difference between Gizmo and Darkwing about as well as anything ever has.

(Greg) So we head to the trailer park and Mrs. Crackshell's trailer as Fenton wheels into the trailer and proclaims that they are home to his mother. Mrs. Crackshell blows him off to be quiet as she is watching As The Feathers Fly. I guess she found a spare television from somewhere.

And if anyone could just simply "find a spare television," it would be her.

Next: Episode 76, "The Land of Trala [sic] La."