Reel Deep Dive

The success of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) demonstrated that splashy cartoon crossovers would grab a great deal of attention. One of the more odd and timely results of this fact was Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue, an anti-drug PSA where Bugs Bunny, Papa Smurf, Garfield, Alf, Winnie the Pooh, and Michelangelo team up to stop an adolescent boy from getting addicted to crack.

Spurred through production by Roy Disney and financed by McDonald's, Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue was broadcast on every major TV network in numerous countries and, as such, was very widely seen (75% of American televisions tuned in to the special). It got a VHS release in 1990, but the complex licensing issues have kept it from reissue on physical media or streaming in the decades since. It is, however, pretty easy to find on unofficial channels; Ryan, Sylvan, and Cheryl had no trouble locating a watchable upload.

As one can readily surmise, Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue is loaded to the brim with subtext. Discussion topics for this one include the shortcomings of the Reagan-era "Just Say No" initiative, how the War on Drugs accomplishes the opposite of its stated agenda, the ways that the prison industrial complex perpetuates unjust persecution of drug use, and why provably effective means of harm reduction are still struggling to attain mainstream acceptance in the United States.

Session 9 is a mediocre horror movie released to a collective shrug at the turn of the last century. It is, however, notable to Ryan, Sylvan, and Cheryl since it was filmed in their hometown and set at Danvers State Hospital, a reputably haunted mental institution that inspired H.P. Lovecraft's Arkham Asylum and therefore sits in the core of local legend.

In particular, this film gives Sylvan, who holds a degree in public history, a reason to delve into the complex and interesting backstory of Danvers State; the discussion ties the rise and fall of the hospital to how the United States has approached mental health over the course of the past 150 years. Other talking points include the evolution of ghost stories, the effects of deregulation, and how religious tradition affects every other topic that comes up in the conversation.

Infamous exploitation film producer Thomas Fries, hoping to kick start a slasher movie franchise comparable to Halloween or Friday the 13th, greenlit Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge, a project that retold Phantom of the Opera in a suburban mall with superfluous nudity, splatter effects, and several kung fu fight sequences. Quickly churned out with little care and even less in the way of budget, this film was soundly rejected by both critics and audiences; even fans of campy horror cheese tend to have ambivalent feelings about this one.

So, why is Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge being covered by this podcast? Well, this mostly happened because it was Cheryl's turn to pick the movie and she was curious about this one. Ryan strains a bit to come up with subtextual issues to discuss, but he ultimately settles upon themes of patriarchy and entitlement that are present in the 1910 source novel (he also compares the film to Batman Returns and Venus in Furs). Sylvan and Pete are along for the ride.

Following the commercial disappointment of artistically ambitious films like Citizen Kane (1941) and the Magnificent Ambersons (1942), RKO began shifting its priorities towards workmanlike crowd pleasing instead of chasing Oscars. Among other things, this meant restructuring its B-movie division. Producer Val Lewton was brought in to oversee a series of films intended to compete against Universal's Monster line; this meant that each movie would be made with a tight budget, run for less than 75 minutes, and be built around a lowbrow, attention-grabbing title provided by executives.

Lewton, an experienced pulp writer and talented filmmaker, turned these restrictions into strengths and produced a series of surprisingly artful horror movies renowned for their evocative atmosphere and bold characterization. His first effort for RKO, Cat People, used its shapeshifting werecat premise to tell a dynamic story about feminism, sexual repression, and the immigrant experience.

Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Rachel for an in-depth conversation about this moody, revealing film. Talking points include the value of the jump scare, how the storytelling plays into traditional folklore, and how Cat People can be read as emblematic of the queer experience.

Shamelessly churned out to capitalize on the success of Shirley Jackson's megahit horror novel The Haunting of Hill House, this low budget thriller was given the legally distinct title of House on Haunted Hill in the hopes of tricking audiences into thinking it was an official adaptation. That should give one an indication of what to expect from the film, a gimmicky cavalcade of lowbrow cheese held down by the hammy charisma of Vincent Price and the workmanlike proficiency of director William Castle.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl for a conversation about this scruffy, corny, and likable work of cheapo schlock. Talking points include the appeal of cheeseball marketing stunts, the distinction between horror and terror, Friedrich Nietzsche's theories on art criticism, and Hollywood's ongoing struggle to put butts into seats.

Released during a period with increased competition from rival studios, Meet the Robinsons marks a transitional period in Disney's approach to animated feature films. The company had just bought Pixar and appointed John Lasseter as chief creative officer. Meet the Robinsons was already nearing completion when this occurred, but Lasseter had at least 60% of the film redone before it debuted in theaters to mild critical response and disappointing box office.

While frequently written off as a minor entry in the Disney catalog, the massive size and reach of the Mouse ensured that Meet the Robinsons was nonetheless seen by thousands of people. It would unavoidably become the beloved childhood favorite of a plurality of Gen Z people, one of whom joins Ryan and Rachel to talk about how and why. Kate, making her debut here, waxes nostalgic about how Meet the Robinsons affected her collegiate career and her time working at Disney parks as a young adult.

Ryan talks about how Meet the Robinsons could potentially play into the sweeping long term plans of the Disney oligarchy. Disney, after all, has a long history of flops gradually attaining cult status and eventually getting reappraised into classic status.

Originally developed as a dramedy for Clark Gable, the success of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma! compelled MGM to retool Harvey Girls as a musical romcom for Judy Garland. Boasting massive sets, lavish costumes, a saturated technicolor palette, and several elaborate song and dance numbers, Harvey Girls used all that frippery to tell a story about the wild west being tamed by the waitresses of a fast food restaurant. It was received with moderate critical praise, a healthy box office, and an Academy Award for its hit song "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe".

The text of Harvey Girls is featherweight by design, but its premise inevitably gives the movie a great deal of weighty subtext. Ryan is joined by Sylvan and Cheryl for a discussion of this oddly-constructed ode of nostalgic Western mythmaking. The thematic topics brought up in the conversation include Manifest Destiny, what brought about the commercial decline of Western filmmaking, what Harvey Girls says about the role of women in "proper society", and the arbitrary double standards applied to leading actors in Golden Age Hollywood.

One thing that kept popping up in the dialogue is how Harvey Girls blew many opportunities and missed a number of easy lay-ups (how do you bring Judy Garland and Ray Bolger onto a set together and then choose to have them NEVER interact in the final cut of the movie?) Also, Sylvan and Cheryl repeatedly express discomfort at Angela Lansbury being cast as the hardened administrator of the local bordello.

The leader of The Three Stooges both on and off the screen, Moe Howard's comedic role in the troupe usually boiled down to driving the plot and handing out slapsticky abuse to his subordinates. The trappings of vaudeville all but demanded that at least one of the performers take on such a role; Moe might be the epitome of such a thing.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for a close look at four Three Stooges shorts that prominently showcase Moe's abilities (this includes 1940's "You Nazty Spy!", often cited by Moe Howard as his personal favorite). Moe is Rachel's favorite Stooge, so she has a lot to say about his contributions to the act. Talking points for this one include Hollywood's approach to spoofing fascism, how perceptions of The Three Stooges changed with the advent of television, and why the Stooges are routinely overlooked by cultural tastemakers even today.

A TV miniseries created by animator Patrick McHale for Cartoon Network, Over the Garden Wall focuses upon two siblings who are lost within a strange, mystical, and existentially-threatening forest. Its emphasis on dark fantasy and 1890's pop culture provided stark contrast to the other fare being produced for children's television at the time, something that many found to be refreshing. Over the Garden Wall was greeted with enthusiastic reviews, strong ratings, and a bevy of awards. It has lingered in the popular imagination ever since.

Ryan is joined by Cheryl for a closer look at this gem from the mid-2010's. Discussion topics this time include Gilded Age nostalgia, the appeal of Old, Weird America, the atomization of mass media, and the show's thematic ties to death acceptance.

Often perceived as the first Hollywood blockbuster, King Kong casts an undeniably long shadow upon movie history. Its special effects, soundtrack, and emphasis on larger-than-life spectacle established precedents that big tentpole movie releases still follow to the modern day. A number of its images rival Gone With the Wind, Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Singing in the Rain, and The Wizard of Oz when it comes to Golden Age Hollywood iconography. Kong has never gone away, as evidenced by the barrage of sequels, reboots, remakes, rip-offs, and parodies that have proliferated in the decades since its 1933 release.

Ryan is joined by Rachel for an analysis of this towering figure in celluloid. Conversational topics include the movie's thorny relationship with colonialism, the story's perceived parallels with the history of American chattel slavery, how the franchise reflects notions of masculine exceptionalism, and why Kong gradually transitioned from villainous beast to monstrous hero.