Book Review: WALT DISNEY'S MICKEY MOUSE, VOLUME 6: LOST IN LANDS OF LONG AGO by Floyd Gottfredson (Fantagraphics, 2014)

We've finally hit the mother lode of the early-modern (read: "post-pie-eyed" and "pre-all-gags-all-the-time") MICKEY MOUSE strip.  If I had to choose a single era of Floyd Gottfredson's prime creative years in which I felt the strip was at its very best, it would be 1940-42, the years covered in this volume.  No single story jumps up and presents itself as a "smack-you-across-the-face" classic on the order of "Mickey Mouse Outwits the Phantom Blot," but all of them are, at the very least, good.  Merrill de Maris' imaginative verbal interpretations of Gottfredson's plotting is at its best, while Bill Wright's inking is slick and confident.  The locations of the stories spreadeagle the map; to take the most head-spinning example, Mickey jumps from a bloody, near-deadly encounter with the primitive inhabitants of the "Lost World" of Cave-Man Island ("Land of Long Ago") right into the catty "drawing-room comedy of manners" (so saith yours truly, in an introductory essay) that is "Mickey Mouse in Love Trouble."

A fan's appetite for revisiting (or, in such rarely-reprinted cases as "Mystery at Hidden River" and "Mickey Mouse, Super Salesman," making initial acquaintance with) these tales is made all the keener by the knowledge that major changes in the strip were just over the horizon.  De Maris departed the scene in 1942, Dick Moores assumed the inking chores soon after, and we would have to negotiate several long stretches of gag strips before Bill Walsh took firm control of the plottery... and promptly steered the stories into very different, though still highly entertaining, channels.  Thad Komorowski has a good point when he fingers "Hidden River" as the last adventure that could be said to fit the "prewar Gottfredson adventure model." (This is quite literally true: Pearl Harbor was attacked just as Mickey was riding down a log flume, heading for the end of the North Woods encounter with a newly pegless Peg-Leg Pete.)  The happiest thought that one can take away from these tales is that the "prewar model" rolled out of the shops in first-class condition, rather than gasping to the finish line.

** SPOILERS **

The best story herein?  Well, I'm kinda prejudiced in favor of "Love Trouble," but even I would admit that an actual adventure needs to take pride of place, and I'm perfectly fine with Byron Erickson's praise of "The Bar-None Ranch" as an ideal story to show a "Gottfredson newbie" so as to pique his or her interest in seeking out more of the strip.  The story has very few plotting problems and a good mix of humor, action, and "forward thinking" (Peg-Leg Pete's use of a scientist's "dinguses" to create the illusion that he is an unstoppable master crook).  In addition to being a bit more sedate -- not to mention a bit dated in its portrayal of feminine "wiles" and overall bitchery -- "Love Trouble" also contains an annoying flaw, one that I did not mention in my essay but have always found irritating, nonetheless.  In order to get back at Minnie's stepping out with the caddish, superficially debonair Montmorency "Rodawn," Mickey calls on his cousin Madeline to play the role of visiting debutante Millicent Van Gilt-Mouse, who becomes smitten with him.  At one point, though, when we see Madeline call Mickey on a house phone, Mickey answers and refers to her as "Millicent."  What, does he think Minnie has the phone tapped?  They're conversing in private, so why just call Madeline by her real name?  And it would have been so easy to have fixed the problem, too, by having the two meet at a cafe or something.  OK, it's not as obvious a flaw as the sudden change of the mysterious ghosts in "Bellhop Detective" from three-dimensional spooks to 2-D projections on a wall... it's just that this story came SO close to stone perfection.  I can't help but be just a LITTLE resentful.

Insert "beach/bitch" gag here.

We begin to get inklings (and even a few overt mentions) of the war era in "Hidden River" and "The Gleam."  One possible essay feature that I would like to see in the next volume -- which will take us deep into the war years -- is how depictions of the conflict in the MICKEY strip changed over time.  I've only had extensive exposure to the Walsh-scripted continuities from 1944 and 1945, and some of those stories could certainly be considered more or less escapist.  I seem to recall that there was far more actual war-related material (including war-themed gags) in the strip during the first few full years of the conflict.  At least we won't have long to wait to test my theory.

Feature material in this volume includes a cartoon tribute by Stephen DeStefano (of Disney Comics peak-years fame), reprintings of several panels' worth of examples of the Gottfredson "redraws" that appeared in WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES in the late 40s and 50s, and an "Heirs of Gottfredson" piece on Carl Barks that includes a color reprinting of Carl's one MICKEY adventure, 1945's "The Riddle of the Red Hat" (FOUR COLOR #79).  For something that Barks claimed to not be his "cup of tea," this story is surprisingly good.  Barks certainly didn't mail it in; he does a particularly good job of writing Goofy. 

One comment of Gottfredson's concerning this era that probably should have been mentioned somewhere in here was his claim that the revenue from the MICKEY strip and the other ongoing Disney strips was literally keeping the straitened Walt Disney Studios above water in the early 40s.  (Recall that Pinocchio [1940] had been a box-office disappointment, the first release of Fantasia [1940] was an out-and-out bomb, and the war had cost Disney the overseas market.)  How about a statistical report at some point on how successful the MICKEY strip actually was?  Do those data even exist any more?  It's worth a dig through the appropriate archives, if you ask me.

DUCKTALES Fanfic Review: "The Lost Tomb of Pharaoh Sedqaduck" by "Stretch Snodgrass"

And so, we trudge back into the DuckTales fanfic salt mines... or, should I say, the sand dunes!

 

Needless to say, adventure in desert settings are nothing new to our feathered Disney friends, either in print or on screens both small and large.  Carl Barks' first full-length solo adventure story took Donald and HD&L to a reasonably authentic Egypt, and, when Disney Movietoons decided to mount a DuckTales feature film, writer Alan Burnett spun the plot out of Scrooge's quest to find the lost treasure of Collie Baba.  There are, of course, numerous other examples of the "Ducks in Egypt" trope in both media.

I bring this up because our "writer of interest," one "Stretch Snodgrass," picked a surprisingly well-worn trail on which to follow his muse.  He's not trying to do anything Earth-shattering in "The Lost Tomb of Pharaoh Sedqaduck" -- just tell an entertaining comedy-adventure story in the classic DT tradition, complete with copious references to DT episodes past.  He succeeds rather well, particularly in the clever manner in which he stirs an unexpected guest-star character -- one who (1) had only one featured role in the TV series and (2) has rarely featured in adventures of any stripe -- into the mix.

.

.

*MAJOR SPOILERS (duh)*

.

.

THE STORY:  With "long-lost map" in hand, Scrooge travels to Egypt to seek out the titular cenotaph, the last resting place of Sedqaduck, the "unlucky" 13th Pharaoh of the 13th Dynasty, and his "greatest treasures."  His companions on the journey are HD&L, Launchpad, and... "Uncle" Gladstone??  (Yep, that's what the boys call him.  Personally, I take the idea of Gladstone being the Nephews' uncle as seriously as I do that of Daisy being the boys' aunt.)  Unsurprisingly, Gladstone isn't initially keen on the idea...after all, it sounds too much like work.  Scrooge ultimately convinces Gladstone to come along by challenging his ganderhood, or something close to it, and away they go.  Flintheart Glomgold and Bankjob and Big Time Beagle get wind of Scrooge's destination in "Master of the Djinni" fashion -- via a newspaper photograph that reveals the details of Scrooge's map ("When will Scroogie learn not to leave his map in plain sight?" cackles Flinty) -- but, after a half-hearted attempt at attacking Scrooge's party at an oasis literally blows up in their faces, the baddies (somewhat surprisingly) drop clean out of the story.  Instead, we simply follow Scrooge's party as they reach and explore the long-hidden, seriously eerie Valley of Pharaoh Sedqaduck.  But why has Gladstone's luck suddenly turned sour?  And why is Scrooge so heck-bent on convincing Gladstone that his luck isn't bad, all the while scotching any overt mention of "thirteen," "luck," and similar words freighted with intimations of good or bad fortune?...

PLOT:  Pretty doggone solid, with some effective suspense and scares, though some of the plotting could have been improved. (**** out of *****)

If you choose to read this story, don't be initially put off by "Stretch"'s staccato style, or the manner in which he tells the reader some fairly basic information about the characters (e.g., that Huey, Dewey, and Louie wear red, blue, and green).  Stick with it, and you'll be rewarded, especially once the gang starts the actual pyramid hunt.  This is more of a straightforward "there and back again" storyline than the plots seen in "Master of the Djinni" or even DuckTales: The Movie.  It has some longueurs, but "Stretch" keeps up some good, in-character banter between the Ducks, though his funniest material is unintentionally so (see WRITING AND HUMOR below).

As is the case in so many Barks adventures, Scrooge doesn't actually wind up carting home the complete treasure.  In place of it, he gets what are for all intents and purposes "parting gifts," courtesy of the ghost of the departed Pharaoh.  Considering that these items are designed more to educate the world about the cloudy history of Sedqaduck's unfortunate reign than they are to enrich someone, Scrooge accepts them with considerable grace... which is more than one can say about, for example, his petulant reaction to "love, the greatest treasure of them all" in "A DuckTales Valentine."  True to his nature, though, he does find a way to profit in the end.

For a story rated the fanfiction.net equivalent of "E for Everyone," there is some seriously creepy material here.  The discovery of a group of skeletons from an unsuccessful expedition by medieval Arabs to plunder the valley comes as a considerable jolt.  The shock would have been more severe had the corpses been found by the Pharaoh's tomb, as they by all rights should have been, given that Scrooge interprets the map as saying that "the curse of death falls only upon those who violate the Pharaoh's final resting place."  Since the skeletons were found a good distance away from the pyramid, I sense a disturbance in the plot structure here, though it's not quite bad enough to raise the dead.

In addition to harboring dead would-be looters, the Valley of Sedqaduck is also noiseless.  Various fauna are present, but they don't make a sound.  Scrooge hand-waves away the Ducks' ability to make themselves heard by suggesting that outsiders who enter the Valley aren't affected, while Dewey appeals to "an ancient Egyptian magic spell."  Dewey's dodge works for me, especially in a world that contains Magica De Spell.

The creepiest detail of all, however, is the simple fact that Pharaoh Sedqaduck and his entire royal retinue are still present in spirit form, tending to the evergreen gardens and keeping the buildings in perfect condition.  The "curse" on anyone entering Sedqaduck's tomb is supposed to last for 13,000 years, or until the world ends (nice escape clause, that).  Presumably, therefore, the ghosts will continue to perform their janitorial services until that time.  But what happens then?  Will Sedqaduck and his people consider that to be "game over" and vanish, leaving the Valley to succumb to the elements?  That seems like an unhappy ending (for them) to me.  Or will the fact that Scrooge has peacefully brought the truth about "unlucky" Sedqaduck's reign to the outside world give the spirits a reason to rise to the heavens, in the manner of "The Garbled One" and Khufu in "Sphinx for the Memories"?

Unfortunately, "Stretch" seems to have forgotten to edit an early detail about the lost tomb's location.  Scrooge originally gleans from the map that the tomb is "inside a mountain," whereas the actual pyramid is in a valley surrounded by cliffs and "mountainous" sand dunes.  We could attribute this goof to Scrooge's misreading of the map, but, when your fact-checkers have the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook at hand, I doubt that any such slip would have slipped by.

The final scene has something of a Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea "coffee scene" ((c) Joe Torcivia) vibe, in that we find the Ducks back in Duckburg and discussing their adventure over a meal at Quack Maison. (Remember?  That was the place where Gladstone and Scrooge went to eat breakfast in "Dime Enough for Luck" and that unfortunate "clerical error" concerning the restaurant's "millionth customer" took place).  It's decent, but also something of a letdown, given that the Ducks had already had dinner at the place earlier in the story, at the time when Scrooge finally convinced Gladstone to join the adventure.  I appreciate "Stretch"'s willingness to exploit Gladstone's one DT appearance to the hilt, but bringing the Ducks back to QM might have been going a dish too far.

Perhaps the most puzzling aspect of the plot is the quick dismissal of the villains.  In truth, they don't actually get to do much of interest. However, there is a most intriguing moment when Bankjob, remembering how Scrooge saved him, Babyface, and Bugle/Bebop from the pirates in "Time Teasers," suggests that the baddies ask Scrooge for assistance in getting back to civilization.  Glomgold is having none of that, preferring a long, hot, and problematic desert trek to lowering himself to ask Scrooge for aid.  Had the bad guys actually joined Scrooge's party, the conflict between Flinty's pride and greed might have made for an interesting subplot. (Admittedly, it might also have interfered with the subplot that was already present, which I'll discuss under CHARACTERIZATION).  Instead, "Stretch" dismisses the villains with a couple of paragraphs of narrative.  I suppose that "Stretch" felt that the adventure simply "had" to include an appearance by familiar villains in order to seem "authentic."  There are plenty of examples to the contrary, though, and, all in all, I think that "Stretch" should have let the Ducks handle this one by themselves, with no opponents save the elements... and the internal conflicts.

CHARACTERIZATION:  Pretty solid, as well, with the only possible question being how we are expected to regard Scrooge's behavior towards Gladstone.  (**** out of *****)

"Stretch" does a pretty decent job with most of the basics here. The Nephews may consult the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook a few too many times -- I'm sure that their native intelligence could have helped them to figure out that pyramids were never used as homes, and that water, however brackish or distasteful, is essential for life to flourish in the desert -- but they make up for it late in the game by doping out Scrooge's scheme re Gladstone (about which more in a moment) all by their lonesomes.  Launchpad is Launchpad, 'nuff said, while Gladstone, appropriately enough, is given his slightly softer, more laid-back DuckTales persona, as opposed to the more obnoxious characterization introduced by Barks.  On the unlikability scale, whining a bit about tramping through the desert and making a couple of self-satisfied remarks about his luck seeing him through don't really amount to much.  "Stretch" even provides Gladstone with a new (and atypical) vulnerable spot, in that the gander takes umbrage at Scrooge's questioning of his bravery on more than one occasion.  Scrooge hasn't been concerned (at least openly) about others' cojones since "Christmas on Bear Mountain."  But Gladstone's determination to prove Scrooge wrong reflects another side of his overweening pride... one that is less smug and more proactive.

The big character-related question arising from this epic is how, exactly, we are expected to react to Scrooge's subterranean decision to bring Gladstone along as a kind of "anti-bad-fortune fail-safe" to sense the "curse" that is supposed to lie on Sedqaduck's tomb -- and, more significantly, his determination to keep his reasoning under wraps until after the fact.  Scrooge figures that, if there really is such a "curse," then Gladstone's luck will sense it and try to keep him and the other Ducks safe by any means necessary... including bouts of bad luck.  Gladstone's increasing gaffe-proneness as the Ducks close in on their goal, and the result of the final advance towards the tomb, tend to bear out Scrooge's theory.  But can this honestly be said to be "square dealing" by Scrooge, even though his intention was an honorable one?

Complicating our interpretation of Scrooge's behavior is a scene that occurs as the Ducks prepare to go into the Valley.  A panicky Gladstone is (understandably) worried that another "Dime Enough for Luck" scenario may be playing itself out, but Scrooge bluntly dismisses his concerns and gives Gladstone his personal promise that the gander's luck hasn't really turned bad.  The narrative presents this as an example of Scrooge's commitment to straight dealing with others, which, given the underlying subterfuge that the old miser is practicing, doesn't quite ring true.  Gladstone makes the point that Scrooge, who "[denies luck] even exists" (I guess the Old #1 Dime is just a cherished memento in this version of DT continuity?), couldn't be expected to understand how luck works.  Scrooge is obliged to rely upon sheer force of will to convince Gladstone to believe that Scrooge is telling the truth.  Our... uh, hero, ladies and gentlemen?  The jury may have a hard time reaching a verdict on that one.

Personally, I think that it would have made far more sense for "Stretch" to have had Scrooge tell Gladstone the truth up front, using logic to convince the gander that he will be in no danger precisely because Gladstone's luck will protect him by going bad at the appointed time.  That would have made for an interesting psychological conflict for Gladstone, who is so used to being benefited by his luck that he might find it hard to wrap his mind around the concept of bad luck doing him some good.  Using that subplot in place of the "Scrooge rather clumsily conceals the truth for everyduck's own good" would have been much trickier for "Stretch" to do, but it would have avoided the somewhat awkward characterization of Scrooge that the "subterfuge" angle forced the author to use.

A coda regarding Pharaoh Sedqaduck himself: The dead ruler's appearance in ghost-guise is brief but memorable.  During the adventure, we learn that the "unlucky" ruler was not a bungler so much as a ruler who had the misfortune of facing a large number of enemies without the resources to keep them at bay. Sedqaduck shows that his troubles have not robbed him of a certain sense of humor when he disses Launchpad for having complained earlier that Sedqaduck's museum of artifacts was "dull."  The greatest ruler of ancient times he wasn't, but he certainly doesn't come off as a dope on the order of Barks' spendthrift King Nutmost the Rash ("A Cobbler Should Stick to His Last," UNCLE $CROOGE #25, March 1959).

HOMEWORK:  Done to a turn.  (***** out of *****)

From the opening gong, references fly thick and fast -- and they're far from being the standard references to previous desert adventures that you might expect.  The aforementioned references to Scrooge's map-mistake in "Master of the Djinni" and Bankjob's remembrance of Scrooge's generosity in "Time Teasers" certainly got MY attention, and some other clever ones are worthy of special mention.

(1) Gladstone refers to the Ducks' near-death experience in "Too Much of a Gold Thing" as an example of how dangerous adventuring can be.  Makes you wonder: how widely did news of the Ducks' travails in the Valley of the Golden Suns actually spread?  One can understand Scrooge wanting to keep the Valley's fate a secret from the general public, just in case some crazies decided to imitiate El Capitan and dig endlessly (and futilely) for riches in the ruins.  Any acquaintances whom Scrooge trusted with the info were undoubtedly sworn to some form of secrecy... and it's therefore surprising that Scrooge didn't shush Gladstone (or even whack him with his cane) when Gladstone mentioned the adventure at the Ducks' table at Quack Maison.

(2) Glomgold reacts to Bankjob and Big Time's bomb-bungling by grumbling, "Now I know why you two never work together!" -- which, in fact, they never actually had before, unless you count that mob-scene in "Full Metal Duck" (which was itself a skull session, as opposed to an actual gig) and set aside the comic-book story "The Great Chase" (preferably, at a VERY great distance).  Given that Bankjob and Big Time are actually among the more competent of the DT Beagles, their treatment here seems a bit uncharitable of "Stretch."

(3) To while away the time during a long flight, Launchpad tells Gladstone tall tales of his exploits, among which is his "harrowing hiatus with the Harpies" ("The Golden Fleecing").  Evidently, to Launchpad, any adventure you can walk away from is a tale-worthy one, even if one's role in it is somewhat, well, embarrassing.  Speaking of which, Launchpad invokes the "Any crash you can..." mantra a couple of times here.

You do have to respect a writer who treats canonical series material in such ingenious and imaginative ways.

WRITING AND HUMOR:  Acceptable at best, and most of the humor is of the accidental variety.  (*** out of *****)

From the spellings of certain words such as "tonnes" for "tons," to the use of the phrase "the lot of them," to Scrooge's reminiscence about picnicking in a country "kirkyard," I gather that "Stretch" is probably a native of the British Isles.  "Stretch"'s writing gets the job done, but it does fall victim to the occasional dropped comma and misspelling.

One must give kudos to "Stretch" for having the daring to try to reproduce the Ducks' "synchronized snoring" in prose.  It results in an unintentionally humorous bit:

"Huh," snored Scrooge.

"Shhhh[,]" continued Huey.

"Quack, quack," slept Dewey and Louie respectively.

That last sentence reads as if "Stretch" is using "to sleep" as a verb capable of taking a direct object.  What would such objects be, I wonder?

I also found the following throwaway paragraph amusing.  Read this, and see if you don't get a distinct impression of Launchpad being pwned:

Scrooge divided the adults into three watches: Gladstone first, as he liked to stay up late; Scrooge last, as he usually woke up early, as "the early bird catches the worm"; Launchpad received the difficult midnight and early morning hours, because it was the only one that was left. 

QUESTIONABLE MATERIAL:  None, aside from the aforementioned scares and ghosts (which aren't actually all THAT scary).

OVERALL:  ***** out of *****.   N&V RECOMMENDED.

While not spectacular by any means, "The Lost Tomb of Pharaoh Sedqaduck" is a fun read and displays commendable effort.  If you like classic "lost-ruby jungle plunges" with a couple of intriguing (though somewhat problematic) twists, then you should enjoy this story.

NEXT FANFIC UP:  "The Sincere Fraud" by "Commander."  In the not-to-distant DT future, the Nephews' mother Della returns... after a long stay in jail.  I got a BAD feeling about this, Mr. McDee...

Book Review: WALT DISNEY'S UNCLE $CROOGE: THE SEVEN CITIES OF GOLD by Carl Barks (Fantagraphics Books, 2014)

If this be "skimming," then at least it's mostly cream.  In his seminal CARL BARKS AND THE ART OF THE COMIC BOOK, Michael Barrier* praised the earliest UNCLE $CROOGE stories -- in particular, "Only a Poor Old Man" -- to the highest heavens but then argued that, with Scrooge's essential nature having been revealed whole during these tales, there was nothing more that Barks could do with the old miser that wouldn't be "skimming the surface" in comparison.  When he used that phrase, Barrier had in mind tales exactly like the ones in this collection, the stories from U$ #7-12 (1954-55).  Here, we can see Barks really settling in with the notion of using Scrooge as an adventure hero in search of lost treasures -- the genre that William Van Horn once tongue-in-cheekedly described as "plunging into the jungle in search of the lost ruby."  In the sense that these stories don't delve as deeply into what drives Scrooge as did "Poor Old Man" or "Back to the Klondike," then Barrier has a point; after all, Scrooge can be "fully realized for the first time" only once.  But even Barrier had to admit that many of these "second-stage" offerings are "beautifully crafted."  Given that Barks was still getting used to the whole idea of Scrooge playing an heroic role on a regular basis, that's certainly an admirable enough achievement.

If Barrier doesn't have a full appreciation of Barks' craft during this period, then DuckTales sure as shootin' did.  The TV series borrowed liberally from Barks' output during this time, producing direct adaptations of "The Lemming with the Locket" and "The Golden Fleecing" and swiping the conflict from "The Great Steamboat Race" to serve as a centerpiece of its ill-fated Scrooge biography, "Once Upon a Dime."  And that may not be the end of the story.  As I argued when discussing "Too Much of a Gold Thing," the final chapter of "Treasure of the Golden Suns," one could make a good argument that "The Seven Cities of Cibola" had a direct influence on that climactic classic, just as it did on a certain Mr. Lucas and Mr. Spielberg.

As great as the finest of these tales are, I do have to admit that this volume contains the first U$ feature story that I didn't much care for: "The Mysterious Stone Ray," aka "The Mysterious Unfinished Invention," aka "Leave Stranded and Petrified Beagle Boys Lie."  I previously reviewed it here.  The story is currently ranked 16th among all Disney comics stories at Inducks, which I quite frankly cannot fathom.  Our own GeoX bombed quite savagely on "The Menehune Mystery" as Barks' first really sh**ty $CROOGE story (Geo, of course, used the uncensored version of the word), but "Stone Ray" is poorly organized and is illogical in so many ways that it's hard for me, at least, to regard it as being distinctly better than "Menehune."  Chacun a son gout, and all that.  The use of the two unrelated "adventurettes" in U$ #11, "The Great Steamboat Race" and "Riches, Riches Everywhere," is just a bit irritating -- I'm sure that at least a few of Barks' loyal readers back in 1955 regarded the unprecedented double-dip in the same way that DuckTales fans regarded that series' only venture into the two-story format (in Episode 11, no less! How about that?!), but at least the Barks tales are actually good.

Artistically speaking, Barks is still close to the top of his game here, though the effects of the notorious mid-50s "drawing paper switch" that stiffened up his art for a while can first be seen here (in U$ #11).  The worst of these effects won't show up until the "tall Ducks" period of the late 50s, however, and, all things considered, Barks' initial adaptation to the switcheroo is quite adept.  On the gag side, we see the initial one-page salvos in the "free cup of coffee wars" between Scrooge and the unfortunate diner owner who will have to wait more than half a century before his psychological torment can be comprehensively examined in a real, live, full-length story.

* In case you were unaware of the fact, FUNNYBOOKS, Barrier's new book-length history of the "Dell Comics are Good Comics" era, presently stands on the cusp of release.  Barrier can be an astringent analyst, but his views are always worth considering, so anyone with an interest in the Dell days should pick this book up, either for oneself or as a gift for a like-minded friend.  Given IDW's aggressive action in acquiring the Disney comics license and its sturdy stable of licensed properties and original creations, might we be on the verge of seeing the rise of "the new Dell"?  Time will dell... er, tell.

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 96, "A DuckTales Valentine"... and a moment with "DuckTales: The Movie"

Among the standalone half-hour episodes of DuckTales, "A DuckTales Valentine"... well, stands alone, only more so.  Originally broadcast on February 11, 1990 as the first part of an hour-long Magical World of Disney Valentine's Day special...

... it subsequently turned up in syndication, albeit with a badly butchered title card that treats "DuckTales" as, I guess, a character, complete with a first and a last name.  Shades of the infamous "DuckTales in..." byline that we saw in Marvel-Disney's DISNEY AFTERNOON title, among other places.

The original version of the title card, which only appeared during the original NBC broadcast, makes "DT Valentine" the only DuckTales episode with THREE distinct titles.  This is also the only time that any DT ep got the picture-card title treatment that later became S.O.P. during Quack Pack.  (Do all of the auguries so far sound a bit... ominous?  I'd say so.)

(Hey, it would've probably been better than the show we DID get.)

Depending upon whether you regard "Back to the Klondike" as a Valentine's Day episode -- I'm inclined to say not, given that (1) the Valentine's theme is merely a sidebar to the actual plot; (2) WDTVA itself seemed to have no problem slating "Klondike"'s original broadcast for late October 1987 -- "Valentine" broke WDTVA's duck (sorry) as the first full-fledged "holiday" episode that the studio had ever produced.  The fact that DuckTales had eschewed "holiday" productions up until this point could actually be considered a positive of sorts.  The individuals who toiled on the series apparently had sufficient confidence in the show's entertainment level that they did not feel the need for such "expected" seasonal offerings.  The increased use of "holiday" eps in later WDTVA series admittedly resulted in at least one universally acknowledged masterpiece, but it also figuratively shortened the distance between WDTVA productions and productions from other, frequently less inspired studios.

Doing a Valentine's special obliges the creator to answer a very tricky question: What is the appropriate tone to take?  From my perspective, "DT Valentine" was fighting something of an uphill battle from the start.  The prime Valentine's special of my youth, "Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown" (1975), mixed a good deal of wistfulness in with the expected sentiment -- in fact, most of the attention went to the subversion of romantic assumptions.  Charlie Brown's well-established frustration at never getting a Valentine was an obvious choice for a subplot, but Charles Schulz' script added to the expected angst:  Linus bought an elaborate box of candy that he intended to give to his beloved teacher Miss Othmar, only to erupt in fury after he watched the oblivious Miss O. drive away with her boyfriend.

Then, too, "Back to the Klondike" had already partially compromised any additional attempt that DuckTales might take towards the Valentine's holiday, slathering several thick layers of "pink-tinted cuteness" onto an existing narrative that was famed for its astringence.  (Don Rosa's slightly different take on the events of "Klondike" didn't exist at the time, but suffice it to say that the contrast would have seemed even sharper if it had existed.) I had come to terms with the series' approach to "Klondike" by the time "DT Valentine" aired, but I hadn't forgotten the (still somewhat disturbing) precedent.

Given the relatively modest hopes that I had for "DT Valentine" going in, I actually found the end product to be unexpectedly enjoyable.  Granted, there are more than enough flaws to pick at here, not the least of which is the ultra-syrupy "pulsating heart" fadeout scene.  GeoX is right; this really does make the heart-shaped smoke plumes of "Klondike" seem subtle and underplayed.  The fact that the sentiment being expressed (Scrooge's devotion to his family) is one that has long since been established as a basic characteristic of the DuckTales version of Scrooge makes the lovey-dovey overkill feel akin to being beaten over the head with a greeting card (as an unsentimental someone once described a viewing of The Sound of Music [1965]).

  Even a majority of the Ducks seem a bit uncomfortable with this approach.

Other issues of tone will affect one's opinion of the narrative, especially Webby's "saccharine burbling" (GeoX) and/or "melodramatic crap" (Greg).  Honestly, most of this didn't bother me.  Webby was far more hapless and unendurable in "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Webby," in which even Bubba Duck outshone her.  Her gift of a Valentine's cupcake to the love-struck Scrooge (who subsequently palms the pastry off on an indifferent Aphroducky) is played in a somewhat cutesy manner, including the silly use of heart-shaped black pupils, which tends to obscure the salient fact that Webby, unlike HD&L, is willing to continue trying to get through to Scrooge, a clear indication of just how much she really cares for him.  We also shouldn't forget that Webby (1) is the first kid to use one of Cupid's arrows as a weapon, when she jabs Aphroducky the first time; (2) is accepted as an equal by HD&L when the kids stow away on Scrooge and Launchpad's plane; (3) plays her part in bamboozling Aphroducky into thinking that she's allergic to Scrooge's money.  Some "burbling" there might be, but Webby is most definitely "a full part of the team" here -- a nice callback to some of her stronger past roles.

Scrooge's attitude here, though less noticeable than Webby's, is also something that a viewer must fight through.  Until the love spell is broken and Scrooge rescues the kids from Vulcan's pit, this must rank as Scrooge's most unlikable performance since... I don't know, "Ducks on the Lam," maybe?  Or "Aqua Ducks" and "Working for Scales"?  Whichever precedent you choose, man, is he having the proverbial "terrible day" here.  We get a sense of what's coming right at the start when the kids point out that Scrooge has been incommunicado for weeks while he's been researching the location of the Lost Temple of Aphroducky.  Scrooge subsequently blows off V-Day as "sentimental drivel," forbids HD&L and Webby from coming with him to find the Temple (as if that's ever stopped them before...), hurls a few "Scrooge's Pet"-vintage insults at Launchpad, erupts in disgust when he discovers the nature of "the greatest treasure of all" (compare his restrained reaction to the truth about the treasure of the ancient Thinkas in "Bubba's Big Brainstorm"), and so on, and so unpleasant... whereupon he gets poked with an arrow and turns into a lovesick fool.  Needless to say, Scrooge's "original sin" -- namely, his indifference towards the kids -- is atoned for in full when he realizes that HD&L and Webby are in physical peril and his protective instincts towards "[his] own kin" come to the fore.  But a whole lot of green-tinted bile and candy-flavored goo has to flow under the bridge before we can get to that point.

So what "saves" this ep for me?  Well, first off, it does have a proper plot with an appropriate payoff, in the manner of a more or less typical half-hour episode from the first season.  There's nothing here remotely comparable to, say, Act Three of "Yuppy Ducks," or the final chapter of "Time is Money," in terms of insulting the intelligence.  Vulcan's attack on McDuck Mansion, and the addled Scrooge's self-correction, are both logical consequences of what has gone before.  The only real loose thread that I can discern is a lack of an explanation for exactly how Aphroducky and Vulcan's "magic monitor" works.  OK, the thing "dings" (oddly enough, in the manner of a microwave or a toaster oven) when someone, or something, is in Aphroducky's sunken Temple.  So wouldn't it be "dinging" all the time, given that Aphroducky inadvertently reveals that passing sea creatures (such as the shark) are able to activate it?  I can see that aural irritant contributing to Aphro and Vulcan's... er, domestic issues.  Also, when Vulcan turns on the device, why does it suddenly act like a television set rather than a security camera, and why does it immediately bring up a picture of Aphroducky?  This wouldn't be so important, except that the "magic TV" is the means whereby Vulcan learns that his betrothed is "two-timing" him and subsequently searches for Scrooge with intent to clobber.  The fact that both Aphro and Vulcan know exactly where to find Scrooge (Vulcan needs some help, but he knows enough to go to Duckburg, at the very least) can be more easily be brushed off because, well, these characters ARE gods, after all.  You wouldn't expect Princess Celestia to need a GPS, either.  But the use of the "magic monitor" as a convenient "whatsit" that gives characters exactly the information they need to keep the plot moving has always struck me as too convenient by half.

"AH!  The spanakopita's done?!"

Now, what ABOUT Aphroducky and Vulcan?  Neither GeoX nor Greg seems to have thought much of their portrayals here.  I'm not talking about relatively petty stuff, like the mixture of Greek and Roman names; I'm referring to the fact that Aphro and Vulky are channeling The Bickersons throughout.  Well, that's not strictly true.  The trick to understanding their characterizations here is to realize that Kenneth Mars and Linda Gary are pretty obviously basing their performances on Ralph and Alice Kramden from The Honeymooners.  This is at once a clever reference that adds to one's enjoyment of the episode (much as the knowledge that Lawrence Loudmouth was based on Morton Downey Jr. augments one's appreciation of "The Masked Mallard") and an intriguing interpretation of the well-known fact that the deities of classical mythology were essentially "fallible men and women" who just happened to possess godlike powers.  How better to illustrate the somewhat tempestuous interpersonal relations of the Greek and Roman "super-power elite" than to interpret them in terms of one of the most famous "contentious couples" from our own popular culture?  

The media-inflected portrayal of Aphroducky and Vulcan reflects the manner in which "DT Valentine" is basically a first-season episode in terms of plot setup -- search for a mythical lost treasure, discovery that the treasure comes with a few barbs (literally) attached, interactions with figures from myth and legend, plenty of action -- but a second-season episode in terms of humor style.  A similar mixture of seasons can be seen in the depiction of Launchpad.  Before he is "poked" and falls in love with the shark, LP swings between "standard" bouts of ineptitude and moments of legitimate derring-do, touched with a bit of genuine heroism (e.g., when he prepares to face the shark and tells Scrooge to save himself and the kids).  This portrayal comes to a halt when the tetched LP gives the shark that yard-long smackeroo.  Then, a touch of seriousness returns when LP is forced to choose between flying and living with the shark.  Finally, LP makes with the wisecracks, ill-advised or otherwise, during Vulcan's attack.  Which version of Launchpad do you prefer?  Take your pick, they're all here.

The influence of the first season on this episode can most easily be seen during the action scenes, which are surprisingly intense for a supposedly "saccharine" effort.  Launchpad riding the shark, Aphroducky attacking Scrooge in the Money Bin, and Vulcan going after Scrooge all deliver the goods.  Even HD&L and Webby get to join in the physical fun when they "make their points" with various characters' posteriors.  There are plenty of far less sentimental DT episodes with far feebler action content.

The somewhat troublesome distinction that is made here between "stimulated infatuation" and "true love" can be finessed by interpreting the latter phrase as "true passion."  Launchpad's passion is obviously flying (as he himself says in the foreshadowing monologue during the flight to the treasure site), and, as for Scrooge... well, even Barks saw fit to admit in his stories that, despite Scrooge's emotional and psychological attachment to his money, there are certain lines that the miser will not cross: his decision to let Glittering Goldie have the rest of the gold on the White Agony Creek claim in "Back to the Klondike" is but the most famous of these.  Add to this DT's previously-established axiom that Scrooge has (literally) learned to care deeply about his family -- progressing from the solitude of "Don't Give Up the Ship" to the determination that the kids need to be taken care of, no matter what, in "Scrooge's Last Adventure," and it's easy to accept Scrooge's "true passion" being the welfare of those in his charge.  We could definitely have done without the "heart-filled" jackhammering, but I can see what Len Uhley was aiming for here.

Thanks to a pretty robust plot, some solidly comic grace notes, and a few moments of legitimately heartwarming sentiment, "A DuckTales Valentine" is nowhere near the utter disaster it could have been -- provided that you can stomach the sweetness, of course.

.

.

.

"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) [Scrooge] refuses to allow HDL and Webby to go along, and there's an unintentionally hilarious bit where they're like, oh man, what'll we do? And then the camera focuses on an empty crate and they're all, maybe we CAN go, after all! Dudes, you stow away in boxes three or four times a week. Don't act like the idea is such a revelation.

Scrooge has even less of an excuse to let the kids get away with this than he normally would have, given that the plane's cargo hold is virtually deserted, apart from the box in which HD&L and Webby are hiding. 

(GeoX) And [the Ducks] find statues of Aphroducky, as well as Vulcan and Cupid, and two things: A) if you're going to give one of them a lame duck-oriented name, you have to do it for all of them. None of this lame inconsistency; and B) Aphrodite is Greek; Vulcan and Cupid are Roman. I don't think it's asking too much to expect the show to get this fairly basic bit right--at least, if you don't want people to resort to the dam[n]ing-with-faint-praise "who cares? It's just a dumb kids' show." Of course, you probably want to keep "Cupid," since "Eros" doesn't quite have the same cultural resonance, and besides, hypersensitive parent groups might get enraged. So the best choice would've been to just go with "Venus;" we'd lose the awesome duck-name, of course, but I can honestly say that that is a sacrifice I am prepared to make.

Again, I would have gotten more bent out of shape about fidelity to classic myth and all that were it not for the fact that the god-characters are basically placeholders for a media parody.  I'm willing to cut the episode some slack on that account, as opposed to dismissing the inconsistency as "something you expect in a kids' show."  "Home Sweet Homer" mixed real and "Ducked-up" character and place names, too, and I didn't find that bothersome in the least.  I will, however, note that the statue of Aphroducky literally changes in appearance from one scene to the next.  Keep an eye on her hair.

(GeoX) "This so-called holiday is just a ploy by the card and candy companies to make a buck!" We're clearly meant to disagree with this statement, but…well, don't get me wrong, I find lazy anti-Valentine's-Day cynicism super-boring, but the fact remains, it's sorta kinda completely true.

This does seem considerably harsher than Scrooge's comment about Valentine's Day in "Back to the Klondike": "A waste of time and postage stamps."  That rings a bit truer to Scrooge's personality, in the sense that saving money on postage is the first tangible thing that comes to his mind.  Scrooge's cynicism about the holiday may simply be Len Uhley expressing his own jaundiced views to the audience, just as he displayed cynicism about the media and the Duckburg power structure in "The Masked Mallard."

(Greg) Scrooge also shows a map with a big red X on the lower left which Louie uses the magnifying glass on it and sounds generally not interested. 

We've come a long way from "Treasure of the Golden Suns," haven't we?  An elaborate search for multiple pieces of a map there, a couldn't-misinterpret-it-if-you-tried "big red X" here.  Guess Uhley was simply anxious to get to the good stuff.  At least this opening wasn't quite as tossed off as the one in "Ducky Mountain High."

(Greg) So we scene change to underwater as Launchpad is manning an orange hover sub which has no dome and thus the babyfaces have to wear their underwater suits. And the kids are with them of course...

Funny (as always) how Scrooge flipped from saying "I told you not to come!" to allowing HD&L and Webby to join in the potentially dangerous search, as opposed to simply leaving them on board the plane, which he would have had every right to do.

Another potential thesis for the enterprising Donaldist: "Effects of Exterior Duck Bows on the Flow of a Surrounding Viscous Fluid Medium." (Subtitle: "Including an Analysis of the Webby Effect vs. the Daisy Effect.")

(Greg) Louie has the flashlight on full blast and notices a stone box half buried in sand with Greek writing on it. Launchpad floats down and he has no idea how to translate Greek; to no one's surprise. Scrooge comes down and he somehow is able to translate the writing and it's the greatest treasure as he, Louie and LP pry open the box and there is nothing inside of it; other than a Greek word written on the bottom which loosely translates into love.

And which Launchpad, for some inexplicable reason, is able to translate immediately after having admitted that he doesn't know how to read Greek.  But Uhley simply had to have that "It's Greek to me" line in there somewhere.  (Heck, Launchpad openly admits as much.)

(Greg) Dewey however; saves this mission by being under the Cupid statue and pointing to the PLOT DEVICE OF THE DAY - the golden arrows of love. Wait; so Webby noticed the statue and didn't realize that the treasure Scrooge wanted was already in the quiver about thirty seconds ago? Damn; this episode is frustrating me.

The nature of the arrows is much clearer in the shot with Dewey than in the shots with Webby -- in the former, the gold is much brighter, and the quiver is clearly visible.  Part of this can perhaps be explained by the fact that the two shots below are taken from different sides of the Cupid statue.  Webby is blocking us from view of the quiver, and the light must be shining from in front of Dewey for the gold to gleam so brightly.

(Greg) Aphro (voiced by the late Linda Gary) doesn't want to bother with the grovelling and wants the arrows right now. Scrooge no sells in typical fashion as we are redoing Raiders Of The Lost Harp.

Very much so... only this version is slightly more comedic, in the second-season tradition.  Yes, even though "Raiders" featured the pro-wrestler version of Magica.

(Greg) Yes; I think we know where this is going [to the climactic attack by Vulcan] and while it is really the right booking decision; the buildup to it is so awful that it's difficult to have any empathy towards the kids. This is why Kit and Molly were so special because they could pull this one off a lot better since they know heartache a lot more than these kids do.

Greg definitely seems to be of the opinion that HD&L and Webby needed to be punished in some manner for their actions here.  I don't get that at all.  The only true mistakes that the kids made were (1) to accidentally stab Scrooge with the arrow when they were trying to trap Aphroducky (file under the heading of an "honest mistake"); (2) incorrectly thinking that Scrooge's "true love" is his money, rather than his family (somewhat questionable, given that they have gone through the same series-long chain of events that Scrooge has, but also understandable, given that the DuckTales Scrooge often gives the impression that money is that important to him).

.

.

.

So... um... DuckTales: The Movie. 

Hey, what did you expect?  Try finding it anywhere.  Why Disney chose to release the DVD version through the Disney Movie Club, I'll NEVER know.

If the phrase "It is what it is" hadn't been fated to be inflicted upon the world 20 years in the future, then it would surely have been created for the purposes of describing DT:TM.  It's a pretty straightforward big-screen adaptation of the series, drawing heavily upon the precedents set in the TV series' first season, with some immensely memorable scenes (the gang's discovery of the Treasure of Collie Baba, the kids getting caught in the Money Bin stairwell as Merlock transforms the Bin into "Casa de Kookoo") and a lot of interstitial material that is more or less cutesy.  I happen to like it quite a bit, even while I admit that it doesn't truly break any new ground in the manner of, let us say, A Goofy Movie.  (I will leave open the question of what might have happened had WDTVA been permitted to make a large number of additional half-hour episodes in place of the movie.)  From the perspective of DuckTales the series, of course, the effects of DT:TM can be narrowed down to...

But we'll make that Bedouin and lie in it next time, as we begin to tackle the handful of remaining new episodes from the Disney Afternoon era.

Next: Episode 97, "Attack of the Metal Mites."