The tragedies of the "Mister Magoo Classics" cartoons.
Something I discussed with Ken Pick while we were returning from FC, was my memories of the Mister Magoo Classics cartoons from the early to mid 70's. The only ones I've got in my mind right now are the Frankenstein one, the Cyrano de Bergerac, and one based on the poem 'Gunga Din'. They're stuck there mostly because they were something unheard of with modern cartoons -- they had dark, even tragic, endings.
In Frankenstein, it runs rather like the original story up until the Monster's creator (Magoo) gets picked up by the ship in the Arctic. Then it changes, ending with Victor/Magoo finally taking responsibility for his actions, going to the Monster's island stronghold, and setting off an explosion that kills the Monster, the Monster's still-being-assembled army of fellow monsters (so he can avenge himself on humanity), and Magoo himself. The whole story veered from showing the monster as sympathetic at first, and then slowly becoming more and more evil as humanity's abuses cheese him off -- until he engineers the deaths of several people simply out of spite. For a kid's cartoon, this was a very dark story. But it was surprisingly well written.
The Bergerac one has Magoo as Cyrano, aiding a handsome but tongue-tied man to woo the same lovely maiden Magoo is in love with. Along the way Magoo and his newfound pal must go to the wars in Spain, where Magoo's buddy is killed in action. Cyrano/Magoo then wanders back home, intending to tell his widowed lady-love the truth... and a flowerpot falls on him from a window, smashing his head. So he lives just long enough to tell her the truth about everything, and then dies.
The Gunga Din one seems to have taken the greatest liberties with the source material. In it, Magoo is Din, a Hindu living along the Northwest Frontier during the time of the Raj. His village is sacked by Pathan bandits, and his son and the others are dragged off to slavery. Din cannot free them, so he goes to join the British-run army and get help. They won't accept the elderly Din as a soldier, but they will take him along as a waterboy. Din gets treated with serious contempt by the British (but this was realistic racism, not the comic-book kind you get in children's entertainment when it's time for the Very Important Lesson) yet he prevails onward until the unit goes out to fight the Pathans. He saves the unit commander, who's treated him the worst, after he gets shot but in the process is mortally wounded. He lasts just long enough to see that his son and fellow villagers are saved, and then dies with a smile on his face. His epitaph is given by the unit's sergeant, who reminded me of one of the characters from the classic B&W Gunga Din: "You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din."
What strikes me about these stories, years later, is the well-presented darkness of them all. They are tragedies without fail, yet at the same time they are incredibly well-done stories that ended the way they had to. It's hard to think of any modern animation studio in America that would dare to give the kids an unhappy ending, mostly because we all know that "Kids can't appreciate unhappy stories." Now I'm left wondering just where this idea came from... and just why anyone ever believed it in the first place.
In Frankenstein, it runs rather like the original story up until the Monster's creator (Magoo) gets picked up by the ship in the Arctic. Then it changes, ending with Victor/Magoo finally taking responsibility for his actions, going to the Monster's island stronghold, and setting off an explosion that kills the Monster, the Monster's still-being-assembled army of fellow monsters (so he can avenge himself on humanity), and Magoo himself. The whole story veered from showing the monster as sympathetic at first, and then slowly becoming more and more evil as humanity's abuses cheese him off -- until he engineers the deaths of several people simply out of spite. For a kid's cartoon, this was a very dark story. But it was surprisingly well written.
The Bergerac one has Magoo as Cyrano, aiding a handsome but tongue-tied man to woo the same lovely maiden Magoo is in love with. Along the way Magoo and his newfound pal must go to the wars in Spain, where Magoo's buddy is killed in action. Cyrano/Magoo then wanders back home, intending to tell his widowed lady-love the truth... and a flowerpot falls on him from a window, smashing his head. So he lives just long enough to tell her the truth about everything, and then dies.
The Gunga Din one seems to have taken the greatest liberties with the source material. In it, Magoo is Din, a Hindu living along the Northwest Frontier during the time of the Raj. His village is sacked by Pathan bandits, and his son and the others are dragged off to slavery. Din cannot free them, so he goes to join the British-run army and get help. They won't accept the elderly Din as a soldier, but they will take him along as a waterboy. Din gets treated with serious contempt by the British (but this was realistic racism, not the comic-book kind you get in children's entertainment when it's time for the Very Important Lesson) yet he prevails onward until the unit goes out to fight the Pathans. He saves the unit commander, who's treated him the worst, after he gets shot but in the process is mortally wounded. He lasts just long enough to see that his son and fellow villagers are saved, and then dies with a smile on his face. His epitaph is given by the unit's sergeant, who reminded me of one of the characters from the classic B&W Gunga Din: "You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din."
What strikes me about these stories, years later, is the well-presented darkness of them all. They are tragedies without fail, yet at the same time they are incredibly well-done stories that ended the way they had to. It's hard to think of any modern animation studio in America that would dare to give the kids an unhappy ending, mostly because we all know that "Kids can't appreciate unhappy stories." Now I'm left wondering just where this idea came from... and just why anyone ever believed it in the first place.