USA, NR, 9 m, 1936
Directed by Dave Fleischer. 

God only knows how many cartoons were made by the Brothers Fleischer during the first half of the twentieth century; not even Chuck Jones could tout such a vast output. Though known mostly for their Betty Boop, Popeye and Superman shorts, the Fleischers (David usually directed while Max produced) turned out a handful of Christmas-themed gems, such as Christmas Comes But Once a Year (1936), Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1948), and (my personal favorite) Somewhere in Dreamland. The latter, like much from the Fleischers’ oeuvre, is a celebration of American optimism in the face of the Great Depression. It follows a couple of impoverished, cherub-faced children (think down-at-heel Campbell Soup Kids) as they pull a rickety wagon down a snow-covered street, collecting discarded wood to burn in their dilapidated lean-to. Along the way, they stop off at a bakery window, and respond to the assortment of holiday treats on display by making yummy sounds and rubbing their tiny bellies. By the time the kindly baker has stepped outside with some complimentary cupcakes, the kids have pushed on home, where their mother (who’s shaped a bit like Olive Oyl) has prepared a rock-hard loaf of bread for supper. The tots gobble up every crumb, but they’re mindful not to let their long-suffering mom (probably a widow) know that they’re still hungry. After smothering her with hugs and kisses, the kids turn in, their moth-eaten bed sheets resembling slices of Swiss cheese. As they shovel off to dreamland, their spirits disconnect from their bodies and float upward, which made me fear for a moment that the poor things had died. But Heaven couldn’t be anywhere near this wonderful: a shower of gumdrops, gardens of ice cream cones, and a chocolate cake merry-go-round. (This place makes Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory look rather bland by comparison.) The rotograph, a device used for mixing animation with model work (which was developed by the Fleischers), is put to stunning use here as the kids merrily skip through an almost three-dimensional dreamscape of sugary delights. It all proves to be a mere appetizer, though, to the overflowing banquet (courtesy of the aforementioned baker) that they awake to on Christmas morning. If this stuff fails to move you, I suggest you start hoofing it down the yellow brick road until you reach the merry old land of Oz. I hear there's a wizard there who just might be able to hook you up with a heart.

December 1, 2005

© Copyright 2007 by Edward Larsen Terkelsen. All rights reserved.