Book Review: THE COMPLETE DICK TRACY, Volume 17: 1956-57 by Chester Gould (IDW Publishing/Library of American Comics, 2014)... plus RIP Jay Maeder

** SPOILERS **

This latest TRACY collection begins by wrapping up the "Joe Period and Flattop Jr." continuity.  The denouement features one of Gould's most (literally) haunting sequence of images, as the ghost/spirit of a murder victim of Flattop Jr.'s literally attaches itself to his neck and won't let go until he himself is gunned down.  By the time Flattop meets his demise, he is white-haired and completely barmy.  The fact that he is a teenager makes the images particularly compelling.  Joe Period doesn't fare much better, getting arrested by Tracy and crew after scoring his first (and, since he's thereby doomed to the electric chair, only) notch on the old gun-butt.  In another highly effective and eerily mounted series of strips, Joe's grieving mother comes to see him in prison, laments her inability to be a good and responsible parent for her boy... and promptly commits suicide by running out into city traffic.  Gould applies a final twist of the knife when he refuses to let us see Joe's on-panel reaction to the shocking news; all we get is a panel of a guard coming to tell the "juvie" prisoner that something has happened.

The Joe Period/Flattop Jr. tale was the latest one in time order to be reprinted by Harvey Comics' old DICK TRACY COMICS MONTHLY.  From here on in, easily accessible pre-IDW reprints of TRACY continuities will be conspicuous by their absence.  Not quite "uncharted waters," but close enough to smell the salt air.

The year 1957, the very crux of the 50s, was once described as "the year it seemed that everyone graduated from high school -- or at least wished they had."  As for Gould, well, he had certainly had better years.  The Kitten Sisters, a trio of close-cropped, acrobatic, "butch" burglars who take a giant step up on the ladder of crime when they commit a revenge murder, are fairly interesting as characters, but they are almost captured too easily: these are the types of arrogant villains that I would have expected to have gone down in "a blaze of gory."  There's actually more bloodshed in the next continuity, which is supposed to serve as comedy relief, or at least I heard some rumor to that effect.  B.O. Plenty's father Morin Plenty (it only seems as if old B.O. has had as many relatives as Snoopy) spends many weeks of panels touting his amazing new invention, a screw-on shoe heel, only to vow bloody revenge after a pair of would-be swindlers cause the death of his barefooted, teenaged hillbilly wife Blossom.  In his Introduction, Max Allan Collins calls this Gould's worst comedy continuity ever.  I can't bring myself to go that far.  OK, it's far from a laugh riot, but Morin is an engaging, genial sort, with an energy that belies his advanced age, and it's genuinely touching to see him break down after Blossom is killed.  Some of Gould's comedy bits from the 30s -- the ones with half-witted wannabe rube detectives and stereotypical black servants -- were far more annoying than this.  The whole affair comes to a classic DICK TRACY conclusion, with the requisite high body count.  Thankfully, despite his vow of revenge, Morin wasn't involved in any of the carnage.

Atypically, the volume closes on the end of a continuity, the tale of the unfortunate Crystal family and the "mad" mother Elsa.  Child abuse, fire, flood, drug pushing, and a gruesome form of murder all compete for attention in this story.

Several "this could only have happened in the 50s" moments are scattered about.  Tracy and his partner Sam Catchem get crew cuts, and Tracy gets involved in a young men's organization that wants to combat the JD plague by having its members "dress like men," as opposed to outfitting themselves in leather jackets and skintight jeans.  Collins sniffs at the idea, joking that he "must have missed" the day when that was discussed in school.  But now that we have college students routinely coming to class wearing baggy pants and pajama bottoms... who's to say that Gould wasn't onto something?

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This volume is dedicated to NEW YORK DAILY NEWS columnist Jay Maeder, who died in July of cancer.  If any of you are wondering about the origins of my interest in DICK TRACY, you have a combination of Maeder and the first (sort of) incarnation of Gladstone Comics to blame.  Back in the early Summer of 1990, as stores filled up with chatchkas of all sorts touting the Disney-Touchstone Dick Tracy movie and various local TV stations unwittingly set themselves up for various ethnic protests by planning a rerelease UPA's old Dick Tracy Show, Maeder published a paperback biography of the jut-jawed flatfoot.  As fate would have it, Gladstone, trying to keep its hand in the comics game after Disney had stepped in and given the Disney comics license to its own comics subsidiary, had recently started publishing a DICK TRACY reprint title.  Wanting to continue my support of Gladstone, I bought the reprint comics, liked them, saw the Maeder book in a local library, bought it, and thoroughly enjoyed Maeder's virtually year-by-year examination of the progress of Gould's strip.  Having read all of the IDW volumes, I now know that Maeder simplified some things and got some other things wrong, but it was his enthusiasm for the strip and its milieu that grabbed me.  I've maintained that level of interest ever since. 

Some years after writing the TRACY bio, Maeder took over the writing chores on the near-moribund LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE strip and boldly "reimagined" it for the 21st century -- changing Annie's dress and appearance, giving her a female adventuress for a companion, etc.  That didn't prevent ANNIE from ultimately being "orphaned" for good and all, but it was Maeder's devotion to the idea of the classic newspaper adventure strip that should, and hopefully will, be remembered.  Thanks, Mr. Maeder, for fighting the good fight.

A Company Named Joe

I have no Earthly idea what to make of this news...

For sure, getting an omnibus edition of the 16 Boom! issues of DARKWING DUCK would be a nice thing (though certainly not an essential one, as all of the issues were reprinted by Boom! itself in several paperbacks).  But 16 Boom! issues rewritten by Aaron Sparrow?  The "money sentence" is somewhat incoherent, but I think that that is the gist of what is being said in the third paragraph.  And published by an ephemeral Canadian company with a wisp of a Web site -- one so new that it didn't turn up when I tried Googling it -- and grandiose claims of being a "publisher of Disney, Marvel, and Pixar comics and books"?  A company the name of which sounds like one of Snoopy's innumerable imaginary personae?  How seriously can we take this project, anyway?

Even Darkwing might balk at entrusting his legacy to this outfit.

Until I see substantive evidence to the contrary, I'm going to assume that only one legitimate "Joe" inhabits the Disney comics world...

Either the diner owner, or Mr. Torcivia.  Take your pick.

Book Review: THE COMPLETE PEANUTS, VOLUME 21: 1991-92 by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics Press, 2014)

In this latest collection, Schulz continues to consolidate the aesthetic ground he had regained during 1989 and 1990, when he started to fully exploit the potential that had been opened up by his decision to change to a variable panel format.  This time, however, most of the innovations center on the Sunday strips.  Schulz seems to have realized at some point that the Sunday format was every bit as much a candidate for a shakeup as the dailies.  He subsequently begins to employ far larger Sunday panels than he had ever used before (e.g. the crashing ocean wave of 4/21/91, the Victoria Falls panorama of 4/19/92).  In an even more radical departure, he begins to assume the virtually unprecedented role of an OMYUN (Omniscient Yet Unseen Narrator; (c) Joe Torcivia) and use narrative captions, an early example of which appears in the Victoria Falls Sunday strip.  A daily caption duly follows in the one-panel strip of 8/22/92.  Clearly, an old dog can learn new tricks, whether you feed him cookies (which Snoopy continues to guzzle here as if they're going out of style) or not.

Only one new character is included herein: Cormac, a little boy who meets Charlie Brown at summer camp and subsequently shows up in Sally's class, where he, not very artfully, contrives to interpose himself between Sally and her supposed "Sweet Babboo," Linus.  If subsequent appearances by Cormac will help to drive the by-now-tiresome "I'm not your Sweet Babboo!" six feet underground for good and all, then I'll be eternally grateful to Schulz.  Old routines, such as Snoopy's assaults on Linus' blanket, maintain their position in Schulz' arsenal, while Rerun, who will play a much more significant role later in the decade, begins to pop up once again in late '92.

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.

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"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).

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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."

"Falls"ing Into Place

Score one for me in the Nostradamian department.  Before the broadcast of "Rainbow Falls," last weekend's new My Little Pony episode, I went on "official" record (I suppose that a post on Equestria Daily qualifies as such) and claimed that, since the plot involved Rainbow Dash's "Element of Loyalty" being put to the test, she would be getting a "key" to match Rarity's spool of thread from "Rarity Takes Manehattan."  Well, she sure as' shootin' got one -- a "lead pony" pin from Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts.  We got some "rainbow action," too, so the key acquisitions definitely seem to be pointing us towards the "Mane 6"'s acquisition of that mysterious "Rainbow Power" somewhere down the line.

I can just hear Glomgold now: "What happened?  Did you earn your key??"

* SPOILERS *

Sorry to say, without the "key" business, I would have ranked "Falls" as a below-average effort.  The set-up is a "losers vs. bullies" scenario straight out of Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown (1977), with Rainbow attempting to goad a motley crew of pegasi into qualifying for the relay races at the upcoming Equestria Games, directly in the teeth of a challenge from the unpleasantly arrogant Wonderbolts.  The script papers over the obvious logical issue inherent in Rainbow not being able to pick a better team by having a character state that competitors can only be in one event at the Games.  Even if you buy that excuse, it's still hard to believe that Rainbow couldn't have scared up better representatives of Ponyville than the ever-reticent Fluttershy (hasn't she learned SOME self-confidence by now?) and the absurdly bottom-heavy Bulk Biceps (who, to add insult to injury, was shown to be a competent flyer in several previous eps but is "retconned" into a muscle-bound clutz for the occasion).  With Pinkie Pie at her most grindingly irritating as a way-over-the-top cheerleader and our "heroes" struggling to manage even the barest smidgen of competence, the opening minutes of the ep are painfully embarrassing.

Rainbow's "test" comes when one of the members of the Wonderbolts' team hurts his wing and Spitfire convinces Rainbow to help the 'Bolts train in his absence, even as Rainbow is trying to get her gang to straighten up and fly right.  The inevitable offer to join the 'Bolts for good comes soon thereafter, and Rainbow is legitimately torn, so much so that she feigns catastrophic injury... badly... so that she won't have to make a choice.  Rainbow's "performance," which makes one of Rarity's "drama queen" fits look subtle, normally would not fool anyone with an IQ higher than single digits, but everyone (save Twilight Sparkle, who's been trying to get Rainbow to do the right thing throughout) is conveniently dumb for the duration.

After Rainbow learns that the Wonderbolts' injured partner could have flown in the trials after all, but had instead been ditched for Rainbow because she's the better flyer, she takes the side of Ponyville and helps her team to (just barely) qualify for the Games.  This is what prompts a repentant Spitfire to make Rainbow a gift of the pin.  Interestingly, both "pin events" thus far have included a "Mane 6" member both surviving a test of her nature AND inspiring another individual to behave in a better manner.  In a sense, both Rarity and Rainbow have become "ambassadors" of their Elements.  And, even from the little advance notice that has leaked out to date, it's become pretty clear who will be next character to assume an "ambassadorship"...

... Pinkie Pie, who, in the upcoming "Pinkie Pride," will be facing off against a partying rival voiced by Weird Al Yankovic.  Apparently, this is being set up as a test of Pinkie's "Element of Laughter," as she's never before had a rival in the art of acting like an idiot making others laugh.  With Pinkie's characterization having been "flattened" to a great extent this season, being reduced to a source of random, noisy gags and little else, an ep that allows us to see a more complex Pinkie can't come soon enough for me.  If you don't follow MLP, this ep, which will air on February 1 and has already gotten a fair amount of "manestream" press attention, might be a good time to sample the series.