Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2015

DUCKTALES Fanfic Review: "The Sincere Fraud" by "Commander"

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. -- Robert Frost

Of course, what happens AFTER they take you in is often the most interesting part...

I'm back with another DuckTales fanfic focus... and the angst is STRONG with this one!  Thankfully, DuckTales doesn't appear to have inspired nearly as many of these soul-sucking fics as, let's say, Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers (does anyone remember the concept of "Gadget-gouging"?  If not, then be thankful) or Darkwing Duck (the Gosalyn-Drake relationship was always rife with potential for emotional exploitation, and numerous writers have taken advantage).  The TV series simply didn't provide sufficient raw material for the introduction of soap-opera elements.  With THE LIFE AND TIMES OF $CROOGE McDUCK still well in the future, the show's explorations of Scrooge's past were comparatively straightforward, and they focused almost entirely on his individual exploits.  The Nephews and Webby were too young to enter "the dating zone" and similar locales where adolescent Weltschmerz might have a chance to get its hooks into them.  As for Launchpad, he was primarily concerned with where his next crash was coming from.

Of the main cast of DuckTales, Fenton Crackshell came the closest to experiencing some legitimate angst, thanks to his occasionally rocky relationship with Gandra Dee, the demands of his "M'Ma," and his struggles to reconcile his "normal" and superheroic identities.  However, these experiences  were generally played for laughs.  The mere fact that such stories were attempted with Fenton indicates just how promising a character he was... and what a shame it was that he was left abandoned on a metaphorical siding following the TV series' shutdown, with no further opportunities to build upon the ideas that had already been introduced.

The prolific fanfic writer "Commander" appears to have reasoned, logically enough, that, in order to introduce any heavy-duty emotional dynamics into the world of DuckTales as a whole, the characters would have to be pushed forward in time.  OK, I know what many of you must already be thinking...

... and, yes, HD&L are thrust into middle school in the epic under discussion here, but there's little indication that "Commander" was influenced in any meaningful way by Quack Pack.  During the traumatizing events of "The Sincere Fraud, " the boys are anything but ironically detached snark-dealers. 

"Commander" apparently planned to write a whole series of fics set in his personal version of the DT "universe" -- which turns out to be a mixture of the world of the TV series and his own take on Don Rosa's LATO$M timeline -- but "The Sincere Fraud" turned out to be the only major product that survived the vagaries of time and the demands of "real life."  He did, however, manage to set the table for the story in the reminiscence tale "Sepia Tone," which basically consists of the seven-year-old Louie finding an old family album and asking Scrooge to tell him about some of his and his brothers' "foreducks."  It's a pretty quick read, and I encourage you to give it a look if you get the chance, but here's a summary of the significant takeaways.  Some of them will be quite familiar, some not so much.

(1)  The McDuck siblings, in order of age: Scrooge, Matilda, Hortense (as per Rosa).

(2) Matilda married Ludwig Von Drake (as per the Rosa Family Tree) and died young.  Scratch "A Letter from Home" (preferably, while shedding a silent tear or two).

(3) Hortense married Quackmore, and they had Donald and Della two years apart.  That is, Donald and Della were not twins.  This fact actually turns out to be rather significant.

(4)  Quackmore joined the Navy during World War II and died in action when Donald was nine years old.  Since Donald was a "Mama's boy" and never really that close to his Dad, that was what really motivated him to join the Navy... AND, more than that, to make the service an actual career.

(5)  Della was the proverbial "bad seed," getting into repeated, and increasingly serious, trouble as a youngster and developing a knack for conning people into making them do what she wanted them to do.  In the process, she also developed a bad feud with her older brother Donald.  Don's original intention, to keep her from running completely off the "road of life," was actually a good one, but he ultimately got so angry at her that he came to believe that he had always hated her.  For her part, Della resented Donald trying to butt into her life, and he similarly assumed the role of a monster in her own troubled mind. Della ultimately got knocked up by someone or other -- I'm guessing that the picture of Della's anonymous mate on the Rosa Family Tree is meant to be a generic composite; if so, then it's probably an overly flattering one -- and had her triplets, Huey, Dewey, and Louie.
 Idealized portrayal of Duck relationship #1

(6) Incapable of supporting herself, yet desperate to provide for her kids, Della tried to rob a bank and was arrested and sentenced to 15 years in prison.  The Nephews, who by that time were three years old, were subsequently transferred over to Donald's care.  The famous 1938 DONALD DUCK Sunday strip that introduced HD&L is therefore in error in at least one respect: The document that was sent to Donald to inform him of the transfer was probably a lot more formal than a simple handwritten note.

(7)  At the age of five -- yes, you read that right -- Donald joined the Navy, and HD&L came to live with their next closest relative, Scrooge.  Commence the events of DuckTales.  IF you can buy the idea of the Nephews being that young at the start of "Don't Give Up the Ship," then this actually explains a lot about why the characters act the way they do during the "dock scene."  As I noted in my review of that episode, it is quite clear that the Ducks of "Ship" do not know one another all that well, and it is therefore next to impossible to imagine them sharing any joint adventures between the time Donald assumed charge of the Nephews and the time he left to go to sea.  Heck, even if they had wanted to have an adventure, there was hardly enough time for them to do so!

Take a moment to consider the consequences of this setup.  "Commander"'s interpretation takes the events of "Don't Give Up the Ship," and subsequently of DuckTales, as being the TRUE Duck "canon," at least in an adventurous sense.  Any previous tales told by Barks (basically, the only Duck-bard who was relevant at the time of DT's debut) are hereby rendered null and void... EVEN THE ONES in which Donald and HD&L went on adventures all by themselves!  We're dealing with the cleanest of whiteboards here!

(8)  Webby was three years old when she and her "grammy" came to live with Scrooge and HD&L.  Despite Webby's occasionally "childish" behavior, that age also seems a little low.  Perhaps young Ducks mature at a quicker rate than humans of a similar age.  (If nothing else, then their memories improve quickly; HD&L do not have any clear memories of their mother, but, in the span of two years, their memories are suddenly working on roughly the same level as a typical adult's.)

Flash forward a decade or so.  Scrooge is older and creakier, and he now allows himself the luxury of a day off every week (gasp!), but he remains feisty and driven.  HD&L are now 14, are in eighth grade, and have developed very distinct personalities.  Webby is 12, is in sixth grade, is about to start dating, and may also harbor a secret crush on Dewey.  Mrs. Beakley, sad to say, is in a nursing home with Alzheimer's disease, and Scrooge has become Webby's legal guardian.  Donald is still in the Navy, albeit on leave, and Daisy is pushing him to finally "pop the question" (about time, don'tcha think?). 

** MAJOR SPOILERS **

THE STORY:  Having secured an early release from prison for good behavior -- or what would pass as such for a character with a temperament that's just as explosive as Donald's -- Della comes to McDuck Mansion in search of a fresh start... and, perhaps, some assistance from Scrooge to help her get her life back on track.  The Nephews have very different reactions to her.  "Troubled kid" Huey is suspicious of her motives, partially because he sees himself in her but doesn't want to end up like her. "Intellectual" Dewey tries to weigh the available evidence and maintain some objectivity.  "Optimistic, sensitive, and creative" Louie, meanwhile, embraces the idea that his Mom has returned and accepts her wholeheartedly.  When Donald proposes to Daisy and is turned down (for a presumed "lack of sincerity" -- sheesh, even Barks' Daisy never came close to being THAT fickle!), Donald has a mental breakdown that requires him to be cared for by Scrooge.  With Donald and Della now forced to be in close proximity, their long-standing feud flares up, in the manner of a particularly wince-inducing hemorrhoid.  When Ludwig von Drake calls from Europe to check in with Scrooge, the increasingly stressed tycoon jumps at the chance to invite Ludwig to his mansion, where the prof will be able to provide some much-needed therapy for Donald and Della.  Alas, Huey chooses this moment to explode in frustration at his role as the "put-upon," least favored Duck triplet, and he chooses his "cousin by adoption," the "perfect porcelain doll" Webby, as his primary target.  Events finally come to a head when Donald and Della get into an ugly fight at a restaurant at the same time that Scrooge, beset by familial dysfunction, finds himself at the mental -- and, more importantly, the physical -- breaking point.  Can this family be saved?...

PLOT:  The unraveling and subsequent reraveling of the Duck family.  That's pretty much all that happens.  (*** out of *****)

One of the problems with "angstfics" is that there is usually quite a lot going on -- of the emotional variety, anyway -- but nothing is actually happening.  To his credit, "Commander" doesn't completely succumb to this trap.  We only hear about Donald's post-turndown breakdown at second hand, from the policemen who come to tell Scrooge about the incident, but the restaurant ruckus is "on screen" and is appropriately nasty, complete with cursing and knives wielded with deadly intent.  Adding to the noxious atmosphere is the fact that Donald had been on a blind date and had been confronted and dressed down by an angry Daisy before Della even got there, making Don's reaction to Della's subsequent arrival all the more malicious.  (You may wonder why Daisy should even care that Donald has plunged back into the dating whirl, given that she had turned down Don's proposal.  Sorry, I got nothin'.)  Apart from this one ugly scene, "Commander" basically sticks to dialogue scenes (frequently involving arguments) and uses very little action. 

I know that there are those who love this sort of thing.  I typically don't count myself among their ranks.  At least "Commander"'s dialogue scenes are usually well-written and, given the characterizations that he has chosen to use here, generally believable.  They're just somewhat painful to read through at times.

CHARACTERIZATION"All over the map" doesn't begin to cover it.  (***1/2 out of *****)

There's no denying it... some of "Commander"'s decisions on characterization here are a little tough to stomach.  Take Huey, now... he's basically a complete asshole.  He "acts out" in school, breaks curfew, bullies the more passive Louie into spying on Scrooge and "his mysterious visitor" (Della), and pelts Webby with crudely sexist insults even before he verbally attacks her (and is apparently also ready to SLUG her!!) for being the cute little "favored child."  He's like the egocentric Huey of Quack Pack with the amp set at "11."  It's hard for me to believe, as "Commander" suggests (through the medium of Huey's thoughts), that Huey got to be this way because of some school pranks that just got out of hand.  There's a definite suggestion of something uglier having been there under the surface all along.  That thought kind of disturbs me.

Donald and Della, whose feud is sufficiently nasty to render them both as contemptible as Huey from the start, nonetheless wind up faring a bit better in the long run.  We all know about Donald's legendary (and supposedly "hilarious") temper, and Don did have a few minor blowups during his infrequent appearances on DT, but his outbursts here seem uncomfortably... realistic.  We are led to believe that the authorities may have had a point in examining Don at the psychiatric hospital before releasing him into the care of Scrooge.   To his credit, though, Donald rallies after Scrooge's cardiac event, pulls himself together, and even manages to make up with and become engaged to Daisy before the end.  (Daisy... fickle.  Just saying.  Actually, the reconciliation is handled very well, with both characters admitting that they will inevitably have arguments as husband and wife, yet deciding to get married anyway.  That's what makes a marriage work... the partners recognizing and accepting one another's flaws while, at the same time, cherishing the more meaningful feelings that drew them together in the first place.)

"Commander," of course, has more direct control over the characterization of Della, and he basically opts for the "female version of Donald" notion... the difference being that Della's temper has tended to have much more serious consequences in her life than Donald's has had in his.  This is why Della suffers through such despair after her fight with Donald at the restaurant gets them both tossed in jail.  She had been making some progress with Ludwig's help and now appears to have tossed it all away.  This was the first moment at which I legitimately felt bad for Della and hoped that she would, indeed, get control of herself and reform.  She subsequently earns additional points by deciding to leave Scrooge's mansion, move into a homeless shelter, and pick up the pieces of her life without being a burden on others.  (In response, Scrooge allows her to keep her job as a janitor at the Money Bin, despite all the problems she's caused.)  The change of heart comes very late in the game, and after Della had amassed a pretty sizable likability deficit, but at least she winds up making some progress, and I do appreciate that.

Idealized portrayal of Duck relationship #2

The rest of the gang is characterized fairly well.  Scrooge is Scrooge, albeit with a few thousand miles extra on him, and Webby is a reasonable advancement of the DT character to the lip of adolescence.  (Webby's "desperate" desire to be accepted at her new school does strike me as a little extreme, though.  Why haven't all of those adventures with Scrooge and the boys given her more self-confidence?)  Ludwig von Drake's bubbly enthusiasm provides a nice counterweight to all of the troubles swirling around him.  He can't completely escape the imperatives of an angstfic -- he is still clearly affected by Matilda's early death -- but he serves as a welcome voice of reason, and his psychiatric dissection of Donald and Della is far more adept than, say, his semi-comical analysis of Launchpad in the DT version of "The Golden Fleecing."  In a sidebar, "Commander" says that Ludwig is one of his favorite Duck characters, and his affection for the loquacious polymath is on clear display.

I also admit to being quite taken with the characterizations of Dewey and Louie.  Dewey is an intellectual with a heart; he wants to be supportive of others but prefers to get as many facts as he can about the case before committing himself.  Thus, he learns that Webby's "big first date" was a disappointment and immediately moves to comfort and counsel her, but he reserves passing final judgment on Della until he becomes more familiar with her.  Louie, meanwhile, is akin to the sensitive-souled kid of Quack Pack who wanted to protect "pugduddies" and such.  The difference is that he is even more trusting and optimistic.

HOMEWORK:   Only relevant when it comes to Duck Family Tree material. (N/A out of *****)

These are basically "Commander"'s own future versions of the characters, so it's not all that surprising that he does not refer to any of the TV episodes.

WRITING AND HUMORThe story is very well-written.  The humor is... well, quirky, for lack of a better word.  (***1/2 out of *****)

"Commander" has an odd way of slipping humor into unlikely places in the narrative.  When two policemen come to inform Scrooge of Donald's breakdown, one of them inexplicably starts acting like a character in a goofy cop comedy:

"Can I tell the story, officer?" asked the other policeman, younger and more hyper than his supervisor.

The older one sighed.  "Go ahead, Korwitz..."

Korwitz spread his arms out dramatically, as if about to begin an epic tale.  "Dateline, Duckburg, eight o'clock last night!  Location, the Dragon's Head restaurant, 825 L Street!  Incident, a broken-hearted Duck goes crazy, overturning tables and eating napkins!  Cloth napkins, not the paper kind!"

Considering that Scrooge, because of the return of Della, is already on edge as this scene begins, this strikes me as not exactly the most opportune time to shoehorn in some (rather forced) comedy relief.  Later, when HD&L and Webby visit Scrooge at the hospital, we get an awkward exchange that I think was supposed to pass for some manner of humor, in which Scrooge teases the youngsters' assuming responsibility for his hospital bill... or, barring that, his insurance premiums. Unnecessary cheapness gags during a family-wide crisis?  Not a smart editorial move.

QUESTIONABLE MATERIALOccasional curse words, though none of the REALLY bad ones, and argument scenes that are sometimes difficult to endure.  Plus, one fairly nasty fight scene.

OVERALL***1/2 out of *****.  RECOMMENDED, BUT WITH RESERVATIONS.

This one is definitely a matter of taste.  If you don't like watching the Ducks -- even slightly altered versions of same -- bickering like a hypercaffeinated version of The Fantastic Four, then I would suggest that you avoid.  If you're curious, or if you're indifferent to the notion of mutual Duck-breaking, then you're extremely unlikely to find a better version of the DuckTales angstfic anywhere in Googleworld captivity, so have a look.

NEXT FANFIC UP: Time for the Big Kahuna, the Top Boss, the Meat Grinder.  "DuckTales: 20 Years Later."  You'll definitely have to be patient with me on this one.  It's 125,000 words long, it features multiple crossovers, and a WHOLE honkin' load of stuff -- some of it quite untidy -- comes down in the process.  I may even have to break the review into several parts: one setting the stage by describing the world in which the story takes place, the other examining the story itself.  So as not to tease my reading public unnecessarily, I will not announce the review's impending arrival(s?) until I am just about finished with the project.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

.

.

.

"DuckBlurbs"

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


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

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

You can only imagine how I feel.

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

Exactly, exactly, exactlyGive that man a cheroot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think that this sums Dijon up pretty well.

Next: Some final thoughts, and a look ahead.