THE BEST (AND REST) OF KIMBA: Episode 48, "The Red Menace"

We've seen fires in Kimba episodes prior to this one -- the "chungle fi-yah" that the crazed Herr Director sets to add realistic drama to his movie in "Two Hearts and Two Minds," the somewhat gratuitous and melodramatic blaze served up at the climax of "Diamonds in the Gruff." "The Red Menace," by contrast, sets up a can't-miss battle between Kimba's kingdom and a potentially deadly conflagration as its sole raison d'etre, and the result is one of the series' most visually impressive and emotionally freighted viewing experiences. The sense of peril is heightened by a curious conceit in which the characters seem to find it difficult to say the very word "fire," much as the wizards in the HARRY POTTER novels tried to avoid saying "Voldemort" whenever possible. Fittingly, just as Harry Potter was the most willing to avoid euphemisms of the "You Know Who" variety and speak the true name of the evil that threatened the wizards' world, so Kimba, the Harry-figure of this particular "universe," calls the perilous blaze "fire" more often than anyone else. Add one great act of compassion, one moment of intellectual inspiration, and the direction of a monumental feat of natural engineering that would put most human techies to shame, and Kimba comes out looking mighty good here... even though he is actually helpless during the most dramatic sequence of the ep.

Peewee the elephant and his mother (given the name "Patsy" here) return here for the first time since "Too Many Elephants." They're not actually subjects of Kimba's, preferring instead to live with other elephants in nearby Gullygap Valley, but there is abundant evidence that Peewee and Patsy have been in contact with their old friend since they left the game preserve...

Link to episode at Hulu

As in "Volcano Island," we get a nice use of real (tinted) fire-and-smoke footage to gin up the opening scenes of fire-fleeage. Even so, the pyro-dramatics were hardly necessary, as the first couple of scenes are more than frightening enough. Dot, Dash, and Dinky's "isn't this neat?" reaction again firmly establishes them as distinct juniors to the more responsible Kimba, who leads the charge to find Peewee. It's clear that, even though Peewee and Patsy have chosen to live in Gullygap Valley, they must have gotten word to Kimba at some point about their current whereabouts, else how would Kimba and D-cubed even know that Peewee was there?

I would have been keenly disappointed had Kimba's getting his tail singed been played for laughs. No doubt, had Pauley or Bucky accompanied Kimba on this mission, the animators would probably have tried to squeeze out a few yocks at their expense. No, this episode, like the "red menace" itself, definitely "means business."

When Peewee is located, he immediately starts up with one of this episode's lone debits, the "Goody gumdrops!" conceit. The "gumdrops" references will all too quickly be smashed into the ground like a lost Jujube flattened on the pavement by the feet of dozens of heedless passersby. Apart from the fact that Peewee shouldn't even know what a gumdrop is, the ootsey-cutesy sentiment seems like too obvious a bid to tickle the child audience into replying, "Aw, that Peewee is so silly!" Given his rather annoying, high-pitched voice, Peewee was already fighting an uphill battle to be taken seriously; this "gumdrops" business sure doesn't help his cause.

Technically, I suppose that Kimba was taking an ethical risk in offering Kelly Funt's grazing grounds to the Gullygap elephants. Seeing as how Kelly's herd is not formally a part of Kimba's kingdom, it could be argued that Kimba was being a little presumptuous here. But remember that Kimba was willing to feed some of the animals' precious stock of seeds to help keep one animal alive in "Jungle Thief." The occasional hiccup-ep like "The Return of Fancy Prancy" aside, it isn't in Kimba's nature not to be compassionate in a situation like this.

Kelly Funt (Ray Owens, this time) is both more "Irish" and considerably more truculent than he was in "A Friend in Deed." If the episode had gone on longer, would he have started ranting and raving and going purple in the face (or at least the trunk) at some point? I'm glad we never had to find out. Kelly's selfishness is truly infuriating here. Check out the nasty trunk-whip that he gives D-cubed. I'll bet that Dinky's snout ached for weeks.

Kimba and Peewee's aborted "night grass raid" permits us to wave a final goodbye (or should that be good riddance?) to Tom and Tab, as they blow the whistle on the former for no reason other than to be contrary. And then Kelly's cold-bloodedness really comes to the fore, as he traps Kimba and Peewee in the ruined tower "dungeon" even though he must be aware that the fire is approaching. At the very least, he knows that the fire is close enough to have forced Peewee's herd to abandon Gullygap Valley. This may be the nastiest thing that any animal who is not an out-and-out villain has done during the entire series.

Funny thing about the elephants' dungeon... in the manner of Daffy Duck's "one-off act" at the end of Show Biz Bugs, the dungeon can only be closed once! How did the elephants incarcerate their enemies before they initiated this rockslide?

Barks fans know the emotional drill of the subsequent scene. We don't see a single sight with the impact of the flames licking at the bunkers where the Ducks have buried themselves in "Vacation Time," but the fact that Kimba and Peewee essentially must trust to good fortune to survive the fire, without making any last-minute preparations, almost makes up for it. Billie Lou Watt's dramatic coughing and hacking is both a great job of acting and a case for sober reflection, given that she would die of emphysema many years later. I can just imagine her inhaling an extra portion of cigarette smoke to help put this scene over...

The other animals' rush to the rescue of the trapped pair is similarly packed with pathos and excellent acting. Kimba and Dan'l's reunion is exceptionally poignant, with Kimba uncommonly tearful, questioning the "foolishness" of his own heart, and "Uncle Dan'l" literally acting like a wise, forgiving old uncle. Kimba's emotional "delayed reaction" may partially stem from his realization that he is well and truly lucky to be alive, and that his well-meant generosity came close to depriving the jungle of its leader. Kimba's tears here are those of a mature leader with many responsibilities, rather than a child. A "Heart-ful" scene, with emphasis.

And speaking of "delayed reactions," Kimba now has his own "Vacation Time Donald" moment as he recognizes a way to use the jungle's own natural resources to hold back the blaze. This is arguably even more impressive than Donald's famous brainstorm, in that Kimba has absolutely no civilizational accouterments on which to draw. This is going to be an appeal to sheer animal muscle-power... and, frankly, the animals' ability to put together their firewall with such dispatch is nothing short of mind-boggling. Tezuka must have been kicking himself that he didn't think of using such a dramatic sequence as part of JUNGLE EMPEROR. The theme of cooperation and hard work has rarely been as gloriously on display in Kimba as it is here. You might argue just a bit for the work that the animals put in to build the amusement center in "Jungle Fun," but there's really no comparison... the survival of the jungle itself is at stake here.


The ep now begins to parallel the climax of "Diamonds in the Gruff" in earnest (and not simply because of the fire) as Kelly Funt takes the Gruff role and rumbles with it. Given the truly despicable nature of his earlier actions, Kelly's "face-turn" here is fairly remarkable. He doesn't even wait until after the emergency is past to issue a formal apology to Kimba and Peewee, as Gruff did to Kimba in "Diamonds." No doubt, it was the added muscle-power of Kelly's herd that allowed Dan'l "rescue truck" to come to the aid of Kelly, Kimba, and Peewee with such incredible dispatch, and for the animals to complete the firewall just in time to beat back the blaze. The ancient Egyptians who stood in awe of the Ur-Kimba in the flashback sequences of "Journey Into Time" would have been better served to have "prayed up" this bunch of critters to help them build the Pyramids!

Unless Kimba imparted some information about incredibly fast-growing grass to Peewee and his herd, I don't see how the Gullygap elephants' going back to their burnt-out home constitutes a "happy" ending. ("We'll work hard to make Gullygap flourish again... unless we starve to death first!") The more proper ending would have been for Peewee's herd to join Kelly's, with perhaps an "advance party" being sent back to Gullygap to scout out potential locations for planting grass or starting a farm. But Kimba just loved using those endings of one or more characters leaving the scene while other characters bid them goodbye, so what's another such wrapup? Not a perfect episode, but pretty doggoned close, I'd say.

Up next: Episode 49, "The Sun Tree."

THE BEST (AND REST) OF KIMBA: Episode 46, "The Return of Fancy Prancy"

It's been almost exactly eleven months since I announced this series of posts. We're headed down the home stretch with only seven episodes to go. Six of them are good to outstanding. Unfortunately, we first have to vault over this stinker in order to get to them.

Like "A Friend in Deed," "The Return of Fancy Prancy" seems to be radically out of place in the "official" Kimba episode order. The Kimba we see here is explicitly presented as a juvenile, but that's not the worst of it. The jungle prince's authority over the other animals also seems to be in a nascent stage, which it clearly should not be by this time. In no other episode are Kimba's prerogatives as jungle leader repeatedly questioned on the basis of youth and (apparently) nothing else. Even when Bucky scolded "pupil" Kimba at the end of "The Troublemaker," he qualified his disciplinary action by saying that Kimba was a wonderful leader in spite of his behavior. Here, by contrast, Bucky is among the characters who give Kimba the "hey, kid, stay off my lawn!" treatment. To say that such an attitude doesn't ring true at this stage of the game is to state the obvious.

Unfortunately, Kimba comes off nearly as badly as some of his subjects here. As the jungle community tears itself apart following the homecoming of the "citified," self-absorbed Prancy Cheetah, Kimba essentially stands aside and lets it happen... at least, until he washes his paws of the whole mess and goes off to sulk in his lair. Then, when an invading army of ants threatens the safety of the jungle, Kimba basically pooh-poohs the disappearance of one of his best pals. To accept this level of indifference from the hero of "Jungle Thief" and "Dangerous Journey" is to demand the absolutely impossible. To be sure, Kimba redeems himself in a grand spasm of last-minute valor that manages to nudge this ep over the "low bar" of "Running Wild," but it's hard to ignore what came before. Internal evidence suggests that the Titan crew dubbed this episode sometime in the Summer or Fall of 1966; I wouldn't be surprised if they were a little taken aback at its profoundly retrograde approach.

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The kids' tree game (with no apparent safety precautions -- tsk tsk!) immediately alerts us to the fact that we're in "Kimba the Kid" mode. Perhaps the tykes are also playing "Character Mash-Up" in that Dot suddenly has a masculine voice, Wiley Wildcat has changed his name to Lynxie, and, most significantly, Dash is taking the role of "Speedy Cheetah" for the duration. Perhaps I should call Wiley "Wynxie" and Dash "Spash" the rest of the way?

It's a shame that Sonia Owens had to waste her delightful Southern accent (for Prancy) in an ep like this. Might the accents of Prancy and her former owner indicate that Prancy was brought up in... South Africa? (Ba-dump-bump!) Prancy's ex-missus makes a clear reference to the movie Born Free, hence my remark about "internal evidence" above.

Strange that "Wynxie" should be the character complaining about Prancy epitomizing a "citified" wild animal. If anything, Kimba, with his extensive experience in the human world, should have been the one to make that comment. But then, Kimba seems almost willfully obtuse in the early stages of this episode.

The old definition of a "Southern belle" as "a bulldozer disguised as a cream puff" certainly applies to Prancy. What's more, Prancy's wilfuness immediately appears to rub off on "Spash," who commences his own nose-in-the-air routine. It is this one-off moment, we'll ultimately learn, that apparently convinces Kimba that "Spash" deserves to be bitten to pieces by the ants. But did "Spash" actually do anything specific to rate such treatment?

Scarlett O'Hara would probably have killed for the "powers" that Prancy starts to exert once she determines that she wants to live in her own home. Holding a mystical attraction for other leopards/cheetahs/?? is one thing, but Prancy's "siren song" proves to be irresistible to other animals as well. Even if you grant that he was partially under Prancy's sway at the time, Rapid Cheetah's angry demand that "you kids" abandon the tree is exceptionally maladroit, just begging for a forceful Kimba to set things right. Kimba, instead, folds up like an accordion at a single wink from Prancy. Then, Kimba quietly acquiesces in Dan'l's decision to try to settle the bad feelings kicked up by Prancy's presence himself. Is Kimba a lion or a RINO in this episode?

The jungle's division into pro-Prancy and anti-Prancy factions is no doubt the silliest internal conflict that Kimba's kingdom ever experiences. Dan'l's claim to Kimba that "This is bigger than the both of us!" is, however, even more laughable. This situation is just screaming for something akin to the "open your borders some of the time" resolution of the Speed Racer episode "The Fire Race," yet Kimba refuses to exercise even the faintest sign of leadership -- passing over in silence Bucky's numbskulled comment about not getting involved in "grown-up matters," letting himself get dragooned into Dan'l's army, and finally blowing the whole conflict off with a childish "I don't wanna fight." He gets one final chance to put his paw down and stop the madness when Dan'l comes to tell him that he's been selected to face Rapid Cheetah in the "trial by combat," but he passes it up. We don't get a single "breakdown moment" akin to the one that disfigured "Running Wild," but this "death by a thousand cuts" is almost more distressing.

The dramatic ant invasion -- accompanied by a legitimately creepy musical motif that wouldn't have seemed out of place in a 1950's sci-fi movie -- gets everyone back on the same page. Even here, though, Kimba just seems like "one of the guys," cowering in the tree along with all the other animals. Strangely, everyone seems to be concerned with saving themselves, while the danger to the farm is not mentioned. Wouldn't this threat to the farm be just as dire as "The Insect Invasion"?

Prancy finally acquires some lovable qualities (those not impregnated into others by song, that is) when she panics over the absence of "Spash." Alas, we then get the painful sequence in which Kimba essentially writes poor "Spash" off. Dan'l's wrong; this is far worse than simply being "snooty." Indeed, Kimba probably deserves a brisk thwacking here even more than he did in "Running Wild." This whole sequence ONLY works if one posits the Kimba of "Fancy Prancy" as a very tentative, inexperienced leader who has not yet internalized the important truth that every animal under his rule deserves to be protected, no matter what the cost or risk may be.

To his credit, Kimba clambers over the "tipping point," sees the light, and just as quickly clambers down the rock face to rescue "Spash." A dramatic scene, and well played by Billie Lou Watt, who is in superb form the rest of the way... but again I ask, what is this "Road to Damascus" moment doing so late in the series?

The "salvation by burial" scene was also cadged from the manga; it was Kitty doing the burying and an unconscious (and considerably older) Kimba serving as the bury-ee. For me, however, the ultimate comics version of this scenario will always be from this story. (Oddly enough, in Episode 48, "The Red Menace," Kimba and his friend Pee-Wee the elephant brave a fiery ordeal similar to that faced by Donald and the boys. In that situation, however, they are more passive would-be victims than anything else.) Kimba's dramatic leap from the precipice -- with the ants trailing behind like so many spooked antelope -- almost makes up for his poor showing earlier in the ep. Almost, but not quite. It'll take more than one bath to wash that particular stink off.

The precise location of the reunion scene is a lot more confusing than it needs to be. Since Prancy locates "Spash" right away, we're presumably back in the jungle, at the place where "Spash" was buried. Kimba's "return" and Dan'l's claim that Kimba is "coming back," however, suggests that Kimba returned to where the rest of the animals had been waiting. So what happened? Did all the animals come back to the jungle, or did Kimba come back to them? This problem is present at the creation, not a product of Titan dubbing, so I don't know how it could have been repaired.

I have to admit, I got a chuckle out of the concluding bicker-thon between Dan'l and Prancy. Having met the Owenses, I can appreciate how far OUT of character this was for them. It does rather queer the mutual forgiveness of the previous scene, though. But, then again, it seems fitting that this particular "chamber piece" should end with a blown note. From here on in, though, Kimba will make plenty of sweet, sweet music.

Up next: Episode 47, "The Cobweb Caper."

Is It "Bedtime" Again Already? (Comics Review: WALT DISNEY'S VACATION PARADE #5, May 2008 [Gemstone Publishing])

Eighteen years on, the influence of the Disney Comics title MICKEY MOUSE ADVENTURES can still be felt. Without MMA's reestablishment of Mickey Mouse as a truly viable adventure character -- no offense intended to longtime Mouse artist Paul Murry, but Mickey's escapades as a "private detective" had long since grown enervated and stale by the time Murry retired in the mid-1980s -- one can hardly imagine Mickey's dramatic comeback in the Egmont-produced comics of the late 1990s and early 2000s ever taking place. Thanks to Byron Erickson, David Gerstein, a passel of talented (and primarily American) writers, and a phalanx of artists (led by Cesar Ferioli and Noel Van Horn) who successfully married Mickey's contemporary look to an old-fashioned Floyd Gottfredson attitude, Mickey is once again a front-rank comics star.

Of all of MMA's many fine stories, none packed quite the wallop of the two-part 1990 tale "The Big Fall" and "A Phantom Blot Bedtime Story," in which Mickey faced off against The Phantom Blot in a full-blooded throwback to the original Blot story of 1939. This classic, written by Lee Nordling and drawn by Stephen DeStefano and Gary Martin, finally gets an overdue reprinting at (unfortunately) the back of the recently released WALT DISNEY'S VACATION PARADE #5. (Actually, we were fortunate to see it at all, as the 1943 Ken Hultgren adventure "The Seven-Colored Terror" was originally scheduled to run in its place.) In "The Big Fall," The Blot, arguably closer here to his 1939 persona -- with one intriguing exception (see below) -- than in virtually any other story one could name, matches wits with Mickey for possession of a valuable gem, only to be foiled in the end. Making his escape at the end of the story, The Blot seeks revenge, and what a revenge he cooks up -- a death trap that makes the "barber chair" and "footstool" death traps of the original story seem like children's parlor games. Dumped into a bizarre revolving maze that's a cross between an M.C. Escher print gone mad and the chaotic rotating stairwells of Hogwarts Castle, Mickey labors to save Pluto and Goofy from certain doom. The Blot would have gotten away with it, too, if not for the fact that the venom-emboldened villain tries one ruse too many. Legendary artist John Byrne provided cover art illustrating The Blot's labyrinth, but DeStefano and Martin do an even better job of bringing the maddening maze to ghastly life.

Lending a touch of pathos to this otherwise straightforward story is the introduction of The Blot's black-clad daughter. Yep, you read it right. "The Phantom Brat" (cf. editor David Cody Weiss in the MMA letter column) appears in the last panel of "Fall," sobbing over her Dad's apparent plunge to doom. It seems that The Blot meant to give the gem to her, all his stories about being forced to steal the stone to propitiate a kidnapper being so much Blots**t. The wee one's role in "Bedtime Story" is even more arresting. Already in custody at the start of the story -- but given a chance by Mickey to say goodbye to his daughter -- The Blot couches the story of his a-maze-ing battle with Mickey in the form of a fairy tale in which he ("The Good King") crosses swords with and ultimately falls victim to Mickey ("The White Knight"). This fairy tale isn't fractured, it's positively twisted beyond the point of recognition. Adding to the surreal feel of the framing sequence, "The Phantom Brat"'s toys all sport the same cloaked heads as "The Brat" and her Dad. "The Brat" -- now bearing the name "Alberta" -- appeared in at least one other Egmont story following her debut, but it's safe to say that this was the high point of her brief but memorable comics career.

As great as this narrative is, certain flaws are now apparent that were not so visible in 1990. The biggest of these lies in the characterization of Mickey. Oh, he's certainly not a weak character of the "happy bandleader" mold here; his characterization just isn't quite as distinctive as that of the Mickey that would blossom in the later Egmont stories. Mickey basically plays the stalwart hero, impressing The Blot no end ("How durable of you!" the villain responds after Mickey has evaded death yet again) but showing relatively little of the Floyd Gottfredson-inspired flavor that later writers such as Gerstein, Pat and Carol McGreal, Stefan Petrucha, and Noel Van Horn would emphasize. Of course, in the context of 1990, simply showing that Mickey could handle heavy-duty action and suspense and not only survive but thrive was more than enough of an accomplishment for Nordling, who would go on to pen "Space Mickey and the Throgg-Ray Wars," an epic space adventure, for DISNEY ADVENTURES DIGEST (more's the pity) before gradually fading from the scene.

The rest of WDVP #5 isn't too shabby, either. Carl Barks' 1949 adventure "Trail of the Unicorn" isn't usually put on the short list of his greatest stories, but it's full of action and good running gags (Donald: "Yes, Uncle Scrooge!"). Sent to the Himalayas to corral a unicorn for Scrooge's zoo, Donald and HD&L must fend off Gladstone, who, strangely, not only trusts to his famous luck but also actively tries to scam Donald into purchasing a worn-out nag instead. This could be considered a logic break, except for the fact that Gladstone himself regrets actually working to con his cousin and goes back to lying in the lap of Lady Luck. The story also features one of the Ducks' all-time great near-death experiences, as Dewey barely saves himself from being skewered by the rampaging unicorn by proffering a moss-covered rock to the (supposedly) mythical beast. A grateful Dewey totes the rock home, and, unsurprisingly, the souvenir ends up helping the Ducks trump Gladstone in the end. Might this story enjoy a better "rep" if Scrooge had come along, as opposed to simply using Donald and HD&L as gofers? Could be...

The Scrooge of Kari Korhonen's "Treasure Treachery" is perilously close to becoming a basket case -- ceaselessly badgering his employees and stressing out to the max. The Ducks cook up a bogus treasure quest to an exotic island in order to shake Scrooge out of the rut, but Donald, true to form, doesn't want to stop the good times from rolling and ups the ante by tossing a fake treasure map into the mix. Little does he know that Scrooge has gotten wise to Don's deceit and is planning a revenge scam of his own. It's another good, solid Korhonen effort with lots of character-based humor -- and, unlike "Fall"/"Bedtime" and "Unicorn," it actually has something to do with a vacation. So, too, does Jack Bradbury's 1955 LI'L BAD WOLF story "Back to Nature", in which Zeke tries -- and mostly fails -- to prove his mettle as a he-wolf during a camping trip with his son. Even the Dick Kinney/Al Hubbard DONALD AND FETHRY story "Preserve Psychiatry" contains a nod to summer fun (hmm, now there's a name for a Disney quarterly...) as Don heads for a hunting and fishing frolic in The Everglades, where he runs smack dab into newly-anointed "conservationist" Fethry. There's no doubt, however, that the highlights of this issue transcend any particular season.