Comics Review: MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC #25-26 (IDW Publishing, November and December 2014)

What is it about "Wild West" themes and the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic franchise that causes the best of creative intentions to result in something... um, less than optimal?  The TV show's two stabs at Western stories -- season one's "Over a Barrel" and season two's "The Last Roundup" -- are generally not that highly thought of, though, for my own part, I found their biggest sins to be ones of dullness.  Katie Cook and Andy Price sent Rarity and Applejack on the Equestrian equivalent of a "West Coast road swing" during FRIENDS FOREVER #8, during which the "odd couple" took a stagecoach ride and dispatched a bunch of would-be cattle rustlers in the process, but it's hard to separate that incident from the issue's somewhat questionable (in my mind, at least) characterizations of the two "mane" principals.  During that story, one of the defeated rustlers did the "fourth wall" thing with the reading audience, informing them that the gang would be back in a future issue.  Well, here they are, terrorizing and extorting from a small town, like the "bullies" that they literally are. Everything seems to be in place for a good, new-fashioned Western parody.  Instead, we get, by far, THE single worst story that has been dished up in ANY of the IDW MLP comics... and, yes, that includes even the weakest of the defunct MICRO-SERIES offerings.  From Cook and Price, the bellcows of the entire MLP comics franchise?!  Unfortunately, yes.

This failure is basically on Katie Cook, almost 100%.  There's nothing at all wrong with Price's artwork.  Cook, however, seems to have forgotten rule number one about dealing with well-established characters: Never let the desire to tell a particular story tempt you into pulling one of the characters completely OUT of character in order to achieve the goal.  The damage that Cook inflicts in her handling of Twilight Sparkle here, combined with the problems we saw with Rarity and Applejack in FF #8, have combined to make me a little apprehensive about future stories by this creative duo.  Why is Cook suddenly having so much difficulty getting the "Mane 6"'s characterizations right?  And make no mistake, this was a BAD misstep... so much so, in fact, that some people immediately declared that they'd NEVER buy the comics again if the comics could get things THIS wrong.

** SPOILERS **

Given her magical powers AND her status as an alicorn princess, you would think that Twilight would be well-equipped to help Applejack and her other friends handle an invasion of the tiny town of Canter Creek by the massive steer, Longhorn, and his beefy buddies.  Even if Twilight were too nice to get really rough with them, surely she could magically imprison them, or put a protective force field around the town and Applejack's Great Granduncle Chili Pepper's ranch, where the rustlers have squatted in Chili Pepper's absence.  Evidently, however, things are more... um, nuanced than that:

As I said before... there are many different ways in which Twilight could use her magic to neutralize the bad guys, none of which involve the use of lethal magical force.  For example, she could have tried flooding them out, using the same simple magic that she did when she and Rarity (!) knocked down a water tower in order to put out a barn fire that had been set by Longhorn and his meaty minions:

But, no... apparently, the rules for alicorns involve a liberal application of the old "Mutually Assured Destruction" doctrine from the Cold War years.  When it comes to using magic against either "sentient non-magical beings" or "Equestrian citizens" -- Cook doesn't seem to be certain as to which -- Twilight appears to think that there's no alternative between doing nothing and using overwhelming force.

The "logic" behind this... uh... operational paradigm is simply mind-boggling.  If you're a magically endowed villain, like Tirek in the season four finale "Twilight's Kingdom," then it's perfectly OK for Twilight to use any and all magical means to deter you, including... well, if there's a magical equivalent of advanced weaponry, then she certainly used it at some point during her battle with Tirek.

However, if you're a garden-variety, non-magical, "schemer/plotter" type villain, such as, say, The Phantom Blot... OK, I know that his "garden" is far more varied than most, but you get my point... then getting the best of Twilight and the other unicorns and alicorns of Equestria is cake.  Simply find some way to get yourself declared an Equestrian citizen, and then, violate laws with impunity.  St. Paul appealed to his Roman citizenship for a good cause, to demand a trial in Rome, so it would make perfect sense for a villain to use the same tactic for evil.  Actually, the Blot would probably go it one better and get himself attached to an embassy in Canterlot.  It's not as if he hasn't tried that before.

It would have been a simple matter for Cook to have written Twilight completely out of the story, letting her travel with Spike to the Pony Trek convention (now, there's one real-world Equestrian parallel that didn't need to exist...) and leaving Applejack to take the lead in fighting back against villains who have, after all, taken over HER relative's ranch.  In fact, that's what Applejack eventually does, picking up the defeated Sheriff Tumbleweed's discarded star at the end of MLP #25 and becoming the sheriff herself.  For AJ, this represents quite a nice bounceback from the "all ya gotta do to sell apples is sell apples" dumbitude that hamstrung her in FF #8.

The ponies' resulting plan to foil Longhorn, while it pleasantly brings to mind ideas from one of the most-beloved Western spoofs, isn't without its own share of nits.  It only works because Longhorn, having basically already won the battle, decides to figuratively "sweep around the telephone poles" and legally take control of Chili Pepper's ranch.  Uh, why?   Why do the "Mane 6" figure that it's all right to temporarily kidnap a clerk and impersonate a legal official in order to flummox Longhorn, right after Twilight had freaked out over the others trying to destroy Longhorn's (notarized) paperwork?  (Twilight definitely was schizophrenic in this story, wasn't she?)

At least Twilight puts her legalese where her magic normally is, when she zips off to Canterlot and returns with... no, not reinforcements, but a surefire legal way to allow her to finally use her magic against Longhorn.  (Of course, it requires Longhorn's unknowing cooperation, but that doesn't prove to be much of an obstacle.)  Alas, even the traditional "stroll into the sunset" doesn't work when the "Mane 6" exit without evincing any interest whatsoever in whatever happened to Chili Pepper.  

Aside from Applejack and, yes, Rarity -- who flirts with multiple stallions, contributes more than her mite to the anti-Longhorn scheming, and gets to use her generally finesse-oriented magic to move houses, knock down water towers, and perform other intriguingly unladylike operations -- the rest of the gang walk through the story as if they're in a daze.  Twilight's deficiences here are manifest, but Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy contribute virtually nothing -- you would think that both of them, especially the former, would be hacked off at the sight of their friend Applejack getting knocked through a barn wall by Longhorn, but no joy -- and even Pinkie Pie is somewhat lacking here.  (A joke about a character eating a red-hot chili pepper, making faces, and then saying that they like it?  That has SO been done... and, therefore, it probably isn't worth wasting Pinkie on.)

So... yeah, a really bad one.  I'm not going to bail, of course -- Cook and Price are doing the very next arc in MLP #27-28, and I'll be interested in seeing how well they can bounce back.  There is some work to be done here, though... if nothing else, to reassure those who, like me, have been on board from the very start.

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 63, "All Ducks on Deck"

"All Ducks on Deck" isn't a character-building episode on the order of "Hero for Hire," "Sir Gyro de Gearloose," or "Top Duck."  Nor is it an old-fashioned Barksian treasure trek like "Raiders of the Lost Harp."  Its original air date, a couple of days after the similarly-themed "Spies in Their Eyes," may actually have worked against it a bit, at least in the minds of those viewers who were unfamiliar with the history of Disney comics.  However, for those "in the know," the ep took no time at all to shoot to the top of the "faves" list, for one rather obvious, obsidian-cloaked reason...

Yep, the appearance of The Phantom Blot was a stunner, all right, not least because he had long been linked with Mickey Mouse in fans' minds.  (It also may have marked something of a turning point in the depiction of The Blot in all media, an argument which I will explore below.)  Why did the DT crew wait until almost literally the last minute of the first season to bring him on board?  The big-canvas criminal plans that The Blot typically favors would seem to provide an excellent contrast to the more Scrooge-centric obsessions of The Beagle Boys (robbing the Money Bin), Flintheart Glomgold (topping Scrooge on the money list), and Magica De Spell (getting her hands on Old #1).  Moreover, in battling The Blot's machinations for the good of the wider world, Scrooge would have multiple chances to grow in moral stature, just as he did when he tearfully left the petrified Nephews and the rest of his family behind at the Mansion and went off to secure "The Golden Goose."  Oh, well, at least we'll always have Cat Island.

As memorable as The Blot's performance is, he's not the only star of this particular show.  For example, he must (no doubt reluctantly) share the stage with Donald, who turns in his most comprehensively Barksian performance of the series here.  Any Duck fan who doesn't recognize the influence of Barks in Don's desire to impress his Nephews by relating tall tales of his supposed Navy exploits is hereby required to turn in his or her honorary key to the city of Duckburg -- no exceptions.  At the same time, the specific sin that Donald commits also makes perfect sense in the context of his role in DT, and, more specifically, of his relationship to HD&L in the series.  The slightly more "grounded" and cynical Nephews of most Barks "ten-pagers" would more than likely have seen through Donald's exaggerated stories relatively quickly and blown them off without having to set a webbed foot inside their uncle's duffle bag.  By contrast, from the opening moments of "Don't Give Up the Ship," the DT HD&L have generally tried to give Don the benefit of the doubt, and they maintain that attitude throughout the course of "Deck." Even after the boys stow away and learn that Don's stories of heroism were bogus, Louie declares that he's proud of Unca Donald anyway, and the trio dig into the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook and set about trying to create situations in which Don can live up to his inflated self-image.  In the end, after braving a fair amount of adversity and bum luck -- most of which happens to him through no direct fault of his own -- Don comes up with the plan to guide Scrooge and Launchpad back to the carrier with flares (OK, GeoX, it may not have been "brilliant," but Don hatched the idea at the precise time it was needed, which has to count for something), and the boys reward him with the handmade medal in a touching scene that does, indeed, evoke memories of the heartfelt concluding panels of Barks' 1956 story "The Olympic Hopeful." 

The episode sets up Donald's folly perfectly with the opening Pinball Reef sequence, which plays out like a "sea story" brought to visual life.  The anthropomorphized waves, the giant octopus' "knotty" end, the "dinging" sounds that Don's carrier makes when it collides with the reef, and the carrier's abrupt acquisition of Slinky-like capabilities as Don pilots it out of the hazard are unmistakable signs of a fib being told -- more specifically, a fib of the hyper-exaggerated sort that the comics Donald might conceivably dream up if he were in a particularly creative mood.  The difference here is that Don is allowed to "get away with" these initial whoppers, at least at first, since the DT HD&L already have a more consistently benign view of their fallible uncle to begin with.  Some of the more hard-assed "sourdoughs" in the Barks fandom might object to the show letting Donald slide by in this manner, much as some fans of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic didn't like it when the fib-telling Rarity managed to preserve her reputation with both her forgiving friends and Canterlot society in the episode "Sweet and Elite."  Both Donald and Rarity do seem to learn and absorb their lessons, however, which is the whole point of the moral in both cases.

Most of the ep's other supporting players -- Launchpad, Admiral Grimitz, and the traitorous dork Ensign Plover -- are also in excellent form.  LP doesn't actually have all that much of substance to do, but whatever he does do is pretty much pure gold, starting with his using the top of Scrooge's rolltop desk as a miniature aircraft carrier...

... then carrying through to the classic "double-parkin' crash"...

... and finishing with flying the invisible jet...

Season the dish with such memorable lines as "What a sunset -- ya'd hafta get up pretty early in the morning to see a better one!" and "A net, and I don't mean Funicello!", and the viewer winds up getting an unexpected amount of bang for his McQuack buck here.  Speaking of bangs, Admiral Grimitz, while he's still suffering from "Spies in Their Eyes" "kablooey" syndrome here (although he does get a chance to experience the feeling from the other end of the gun, as it were), both behaves and is treated more like a legitimate naval commander.  The Navy saw fit to use Grimitz's carrier as the place to land the invisible jet, didn't it?  Would it have dared to do so if the Admiral were a complete stumblebum?  Not in the Reagan 80's, it wouldn't have.  As if to make up for his shabby treatment of the much-put-upon Seaman Duck in "Spies," Grimitz also acts a little bit more benignly, towards Donald here.  Donald's deck-swabbing penance is justified -- Launchpad and Scrooge did bring him back late, after all -- and Grimitz subsequently thinks highly enough of him to (1) have Don accompany himself and Plover during the lifeboat drill and (2) permit Don to actively participate in the missile exercise.  Even after both activities have ended in disaster for Grimitz, Donald is merely sentenced to peeling potatoes, which, according to Plover, Don was originally slated to do anyway.  The punishment could certainly have been a lot worse.

Greg pointed out that IMDB misidentified Ensign Plover as "Ensign Plummer."  In this case, the movie reference site has even less of an excuse to get things wrong than Disney Captions typically does.  Like Jack Lemmon's Ensign Pulver in Mister Roberts (1955), Mark Taylor's Plover is a callow, vaguely obsequious sort who "grows" in unexpected ways by the end of the production.  The problem is that one can "grow" in the manner of a weed as well as a flower, and Plover, like Taylor's infamous Dougie Benson of TaleSpin's "Louie's Last Stand," turns out to be a thoroughly bad egg -- a worse one than Dougie, in fact, since "Agent X" was presumably corrupted by The Blot long before he actually turned to the dark side and stole the jet.

Oh, Scrooge was in this, too, wasn't he?  I guess that the biggest contribution that he makes to the ep was... getting netted by The Blot?  That, or using some fishing paraphernalia to manipulate a "wonky-sounding" lever.  Take your pick.  The beauty part of Scrooge's presence is, of course, that he does not need to make a huge impression in order to, well, make an impression.  He is secure enough in his role as star of the show that he can gracefully step aside, accept a decidedly minor role, and allow others to shine.  There can be no better example of the depth of DuckTales' cast, and its ability to mix cast elements in an effective manner, than that.

But make no mistake, it's The Blot who steals the show from the moment we hear that raspy offscreen voice "calling Agent X."  I'm not one of those people who dislikes the reuse of The Blot even after the character had been unmasked in the original 1939 Floyd Gottfredson story.  It's not the ID of The Blot that matters so much as the quality of the opposition that he provides.  The portrayal of The Blot, especially in artistic terms, has been far less consistent over the years.  The original article was a hulking "man of mystery" who played for keeps despite never wanting to hang around until the death trap had been sprung.  The addition of long fingernails to The Blot's arsenal of menace on the cover of that first comic-book reprint may have been a slight exaggeration, but it was certainly an understandable one.

When Gold Key decided to let The Blot "return" to American comics in a 1964 WDC&S serial, the "mystery look," in particular the blank eyes, was retained:

The decision to give The Blot his own title -- yes, Western "went there" (as it did with The Beagle Boys) long before any superhero publisher decided to tribute a villain in this manner -- was accompanied by a slight "softening" of the character's appearance, in the form of pupils being added to his eyes.  It certainly wasn't as bizarre-looking as Harold Gray's giving Little Orphan Annie pupils late in his career, but it did have the residual effect of making The Blot seem a bit more like a conventional big-scheme villain, albeit one who has opted for an interesting choice of habiliment.

We're still a long way from the ravening-eyed, cackling Blot of "Deck" at this point... or are we?  By 1972, a cover artist for Brazilian Disney comics had stuck a smile on The Blot's cape, the first instance that I've been able to find of an artist treating the character as a kind of "shadow figure," as opposed to a man in a cloak.  Roger Armstrong introduced the grinning Blot to American comics when he teamed up with writer Mark Evanier on a couple of SUPER GOOF adventures in the mid-70s.  It's unlikely that any cross-pollination took place here, but, hey, you never know.  Before long, even longtime Mouse comics master Paul Murry had abandoned past practice (including all seven issues of the PHANTOM BLOT title) and had started to affix a smile to HIS Blot.

Some overseas treatments of The Blot got even looser and goofier than this in the 1980s.  In this 1984 French cover, The Blot has not only acquired a wide, gaping mouth, he appears to have hair growing out of his (cloak-covered??) scalp!  I don't know which is more "incroyable mais vrai" (incredible but true), the "flying kayak" at upper right or the mere existence of this image.

Most intriguing of all is the following cover to Brazilian MICKEY #454 (October 15, 1987).  Yes, you read the date right -- just a shade over two months before "Deck" had its premiere on December 30.  If that figure at lower right isn't a close relative of the "Deck" Blot, then I'll be gravely disappointed.  Can Frank Welker transpose that raspy Blot voice into Portuguese, by any chance?

Much more of this, and The Blot will become unrecognizable as that clever cloaked fellow from 1939 and will morph into something like a dusky devil-figure.  The Blot of "Deck," however, marks a spot where the trend of silly abstraction seems to have executed something of a U-turn.  Granted, we would still see an "exaggerated" Blot on occasion: for example, on Rick Hoover's classic cover to Disney Comics MICKEY MOUSE ADVENTURES #3 (August 1990)...

... but most modern stories featuring The Blot have returned to the classic, blank-eyed, clearly-cloaked version of the character.  It was this Blot that made such an impression in the wonderful Disney Comics two-parter "The Big Fall"/"A Phantom Blot Bedtime Story" (MMA #7-8, December 1990-January 1991)...

... surprised us by showing up in the modern TV shorts Mickey Foils the Phantom Blot (1999) and Mickey and the Color Caper (2002)...

... and (sigh) got slimed and sucked into God knows WHAT alternative plane of existence at the end of the "Dangerous Currency" arc that wrote finis to the Boom! Disney comics era.

While he may have been a logical result of various trends of artistic Blot-dom at the time of his one appearance, the Blot of "Deck" stands wholly alone as the only version of The Blot to not only break through the "fourth wall" into the world of "human" pop culture, but to smash the "wall" to smithereens in the process.  Did this Blot have a psychic pipeline to the future in his comparison of himself to entities like Darth Vader and Dr. Doom, both of whom are now "Disney properties," as the Disney version of Captain Hook has always been?  I don't know; perhaps we ought to do some surreptitious checking and see whether the Disney Company has sunk some of its capital into the purchase of vintage 1953 Buicks.

Needless to say, "All Ducks on Deck" is one DuckTales tale that has aged quite gracefully, even as its version of The Blot appears to have subsumed into the past.

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"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) Oh, yeah, anyway, the Blot tries to steal an experimental invisible plane--though the idea that he's going to somehow be able to RULE THE WORLD with this plane needs some fine-tuning.

This is one of the ep's few obvious flaws.  Had we gotten some detail about the jet's potential as a weapon of mass destruction, The Blot's confidence in its vital importance would have been slightly more justified.

(GeoX)  [The Blot] actually has comparatively little screen time, but his ranting IS entertaining to watch, and I have to admit, I was not expecting -- spoiler alert! -- for Grimitz's ass-kissing adjutant to be in league with him.

The remarkable thing is that Plover's heel turn (thanks, Greg) still came as something of a surprise despite the obvious Scooby-Doo "Economy of Characters" principle being in force (to wit: once it was learned that one of the characters was an enemy agent, it was obvious that it would have to be someone who had appeared during the episode).  I guess that Mark Taylor's "dork" act really WAS convincing.

 

(GeoX) Seems like the idea of the nephews stowing away in luggage is a bit ragged by this point…

Well, let's see: there was "Dinosaur Ducks," this episode, and... um... what am I missing?

(Greg) Quick logic break; when they do the pinball spot; the carrier actually nails the sharp rock in the middle; which would have caused a huge hole in the bottom of the carrier and the carrier would have sank; but it whizzed by as if it didn't hit the carrier at all. Bad, bad form there Wang Films.

Donald's tale-telling had the effect of "rubberizing" the carrier.  End of problem!

(Greg) Some Youtube users were suggesting that if TaleSpin ever continued into a second season that the Phantom Blot would make a great villain to replace Don Karnage (or at least give TaleSpin a really bad ass second main villain) and he would have all the one shot villains who lost to Baloo, Rebecca and Kit working for him to destroy Higher For Hire.

You know, if the TaleSpin High Flight project had lasted longer than it did, then I can easily imagine someone coming up with an idea like this.  It's hard to visualize The Blot as a kingpin ruling over a multitude of minions, though.  Typically, either he works alone or he has a very small group of associates assisting him.

(Greg) Louie claims that the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook even amazes them. Doesn't that kind of prove that the book is a crap shoot? Huey proclaims that they hope it never falls into the wrong hands. Don't worry; no sane person would ever touch that book with a ten foot pole.

It'd be kind of hard to blame what went wrong here on the Guidebook.  Donald just happened to hit the remote-controlled "shark" in the worst possible place, and Admiral Grimitz pocketed the missile homing device under the mistaken impression that it was a radio.

(Greg) Donald and the nephews grab flare guns and then begin shooting them. And folks; we finally have evidence of kids shooting guns in a Disney cartoon and this is as close as bullet shooting guns as you can get without being as such. The writers are going to have a long talk with BS&P after this episode airs. I wonder if Toon Disney cut this scene out?! 

No, in this case, I believe that they showed common sense.

(Greg) We then cut to Scrooge and Launchpad as Scrooge pops up and hits his head on the canopy and he wants LP to open it. Big mistake there Scroogie and he pushes the invisible button which commits logic break #2 for the entire episode as the GOOFS WITH ATTITUDE eject without the canopy being open; or glass shattering no less. 

You may have missed the canopy flying off to the right during the ejection sequence.  Good attention to detail there, as the canopy would naturally become visible once it detached from the invisible jet.

Next: Episode 64, "Ducky Horror Picture Show."

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 21, "Superdoo!"

We DuckTales dissectors appear to have reached another "split decision" in the course of assessing "Superdoo!".  This time, though, only one guy appears to be seated on the low end of the teeter-totter (not a bad metaphor to use when you recall the last scene in which this ep's featured player ever appeared).  Greg, you're definitely in the minority here, as Joe and I were both less than thrilled by this well-meaning but messily executed homage to Super Goof, while GeoX was not thrilled so much as chilled.  As DT's one episode focusing entirely on the doings of the Junior Woodchucks  -- granted, "Merit-Time Adventure" was heavily flavored with essence de marmotte, but Scrooge's activities got just as much attention -- this represented a golden opportunity for the series to delve deeply into the workings and traditions of the organization in a Barksian, if not a Rosa-crucian, manner.  Instead, we get a series of insults, "snide remarks," and attempts at one-upmanship that literally makes every protagonist except troop leader Launchpad (well, and the squirrel who winds up in possession of the superpower-dispensing alien crystal) look very bad indeed.  The undeniable sincerity of writer Michael Keyes' intentions gets lost in the shuffle.

To answer the obvious question first: Yes, I definitely do think that someone involved in the creative process here was consciously thinking of Super Goof.  The idea of a klutz or otherwise unlikely individual becoming a superhero is certainly not new -- you can probably trace it all the way back to here -- but Doofus' superhero garb is a dead giveaway.  Can we possibly consider the use of long underwear by Goofy, Doofus, AND Ma Hunkel as establishing a definitive visual shorthand for "Yeah, it's kinda absurd that this person is playing hero, but let's go with it anyway"?

Doofus' duds may be similar to those of his predecessors, but his deportment is definitely not.  Keyes may have been able to salvage this ep and explain Doofus' descent into duplicitous dickishness (OK, I'll dispense with the constant use of the D-words) by taking a cue from Huey's comment that the alien crystal "sure has changed" the Nephews' pal -- namely, by originally depicting the crystal as literally BEING an agent of negative change. Specifically, if it had been established early in the episode that the "diamond doughnut" had the ability to directly alter Doofus' personality for the worse -- that is, that the negative side effect of becoming all-powerful by using the crystal was that he would alienate everyone around him -- then we would have had more empathy for the suddenly friendless Doofus' sad plight.  Moreover, Doofus' ultimate decision to throw the crystal away despite its baleful influence would have been made to seem even more admirable than it actually was.  I'm not sure how this idea could have been planted -- perhaps the bumbling alien criminals (who would, of course, also have been affected by the crystal's powers) could have been fighting over possession of the crystal and then lost it in Earth's atmosphere -- but, as written here, Doofus' immediate change of personality is simply too abrupt to be convincing.  In the absence of any context, the Machiavellian leering that Doofus does when he's thinking about how to exploit his new powers comes completely out of left field.  Perhaps falling from the sky and crashing headfirst into that boulder really did have some lingering effects, after all.

  

Of course, HD&L don't exactly cover themselves with glory, either.  Keyes appears to have been somewhat confused regarding how badly the Nephews should have behaved before Doofus finds the crystal.  Bill and Webster (I don't know why Keyes went to the trouble of naming those characters if their names were never going to be spoken aloud) start out the episode as the real assholes, verbally mocking Doofus, while Dewey sounds sorry for Doofus when he comments that "everyone got a geology merit badge but him." This sounds a lot like a verbal version of the sort of camaraderie and mutual support that one would expect from "fellow Woodchucks," and HD&L in particular...

... but then, entering Camp Woodchuck, the boys make with the fat jokes about their laggard pal.  Worse yet, they do it surreptitiously.  I suppose that these actions wouldn't technically count as "being a jerk TO Doofus," since HD&L don't mock him openly, but that just makes the boys' uncharitable attitude seem worse.

Having now seen all the Woodchucks exhibit contempt for Doofus, the audience can perhaps be excused for not particularly minding the be-crystalled Doofus' insufferably cocky behavior as he bags merit badge after merit badge.  Had Keyes made the Nephews more sympathetic to Doofus and established that Doofus was not entirely in control of his own actions due to the baleful influence of the crystal, Doofus' mocking Huey's attempts to start a fire, and Louie's plaintive comment "So why aren't we happier for him?", would have been much more effective moments.  We would have felt some sympathy for both Doofus and HD&L.  Instead, it's tit-for-tat jerkishness, and I agree with GeoX that it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

I don't want to take anything away from Doofus' ultimate decision to ditch the "diamond doughnut" and make up with his friends.  It's certainly the single most emotionally powerful moment of his career, just as "Hero for Hire" is arguably his finest overall performance.  However, I definitely would have avoided Doofus' pratfall in the final campfire scene...

... because it completely negates the effectiveness of the previous scene, in which Doofus trapped the timberwolves using his own wits, and simply reinforces GeoX's idea that the true moral of the story is "know your place."  Or, "once a klutz, always a klutz."  I imagine that Keyes thought he was being clever here by ending the episode with a pratfall, just as he had started it with Launchpad and all the other Woodchucks tripping over the outcropping.  If so, then the notion... well, backfired.

I don't normally hold with the use of aliens as corny as these fellows, but their bungling is definitely one of the more enjoyable things about "Superdoo!".  I wonder whether Keyes consciously tried to make them "less than ept" in order to play them off against the infamously fallible Doofus.   Probably not, but the goofy gags and the Yoda-speak (however inconsistently written) definitely lend some much-needed levity to the proceedings.

On a (literally) higher plane, I also greatly enjoy the sequence during which Doofus takes his "nighttime journey" and discovers his new powers.  As Greg notes, one scene in particular was most definitely inspired by a certain Steven Spielberg movie...

... but the episode creates its own brand of magic when Doofus wakes up to what he thinks is a dream and later flies gleefully through the night sky.  Ron Jones' musical accompaniment here adds effectively to the sense of wonder and enchantment.

Had the interpersonal conflicts been handled more adroitly, "Superdoo!" would probably be remembered much more fondly than it is.  As it happened, it would take a couple of years and a completely different medium before Doofus would get a starring role in a really first-rate adventure -- and, in that case, he WAS under the evil influence of mind control.  Better late than never, I suppose.

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"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) "One more, and I become the all-time Woodchuck merit-badge champion!" So…the current all-time record is nine? The "excessive Woodchuck awards" business was present in the pilot, but now it appears to have been jettisoned.

Boy, has it ever.  The merit-badge-related activities of the Junior Woodchucks, as presented here, are surprisingly -- and disappointingly -- simplistic.  One could possibly imagine "Superdoo!" as taking place before the events of "Merit-Time Adventure" -- perhaps the self-confidence that Doofus gained from trapping the timberwolves spurred him on to become a competent merit-badge winner and a challenge to the Nephews in that area -- but, since HD&L won a bucketload of medals immediately upon joining the JWs in "Don't Give Up the Ship," watching them struggle to make pottery, weave baskets, and even build a fire looks decidedly strange.  (It looked even stranger when this episode was originally broadcast after "Treasure of the Golden Suns.") 

(Greg)  Then [Doofus] gets the MIMI JOKE ZONE PLAN as he runs into the cabin and rips a red sash from the wall and goes to the CHEST OF DEMONS to find some boots and under suit. He's going to have a disguise see and then he runs out and does this silly fanfare sounds. He then runs into the outhouse and opens the door and goes inside. He changes and shakes the outhouse a bit before coming out disguised as a super hero. He wears his woodchuck hat over his eyes and I see the problem here: The glasses he wears give him away as well as the body mass.

Not to mention the Junior Woodchuck cap itself.  If the plot of "Send in the Clones" relied on "Cartoon Duck Syndrome" in order to work, then Doofus' secret identity depends upon it in the same way that a drunk "depends" upon a lamp post.  Or something like that.  The "funny fanfare" is definitely good for a chuckle, though.

(Greg)  So we head to the river as the aliens cool their asses off in the river (EWWWWWW!) as purple alien wants a new plan and then notices it right in front of him as there is a dam right behind the camp. Now this proves that Mr. Woodchuck has lost his mind. Who in their right mind would place a camp right in front of a dam?!

All the better for the Woodchucks to display their survival skills when the dam bursts, I suppose.  BTW, there are some soundtrack glitches hereabouts; Purple Alien speaks with Green Alien's voice when he says "New plan we need," and Dewey subsequently calls Huey "Louie." 

Next:  Episode 22, "Hotel Strangeduck."