Tag: cartoons

  • Peter’s Commentary on the ‘Cartoons’ Edition

    I’m finally writing commentary for the last month or so of Sketchwar. The January 10th war had the theme of “Cartoons”.

    I think “Cartoons” is the best war I’ve been in so far.

    It wound up being one of the best topics, certainly. Mr. Porter (AKA “Coyote”) suggested “Looney Tunes”, I proposed generalizing it, and we were off and running. I loved that we all sat down and wrote cartoons. We could done something lame like having cartoonists talk about cartoons, or have a live-action scene that seems somehow cartoonish, but face it: if a reader comes to this war knowing the subject, they’re going to want cartoons, dammit.

    And even though we all performed the same basic task, we each had our own takes on the material. As Mr. Porter said, “We’ve got a Hanna-Barbera, a Loony Tunes, and what I’m picturing as a Tex Avery. Good stuff.” So not only did we like cartoons enough to try writing them, we also knew enough about cartoons to aim for (and hit) very particular styles.

    This time we had three entries: this one from Mr. Robertson, this one from Mr. Porter, and this one from me.

    Mr. Robertson did something cool with his sketch that you might not have noticed. By line four of the sketch, you think you know how it ends: Daphne and Velma reveal that they are lovers. Lots of sketches do this: there’s a setup, there’s a clear endpoint, and you spend three minutes bridging to that preordained conclusion. There’s no tension and there are no surprises — the plot is basically a clothesline you can string the jokes onto.

    But Mr. Robertson gets to that conclusion, and he still has about a third of the sketch to go. We don’t expect it to expand out into “the entire mystery-solving thing is a scam”, and we certainly don’t expect “Shaggy has been spying on Daphne and Fred.”

    That said, the whole thing needs to be about half the length. Mr. Robertson posted earlier about employing a looser style reminiscent of improv, but I don’t think it works here. The big problem with writing ‘loose’ sketch is that you run smack into audience expectations. The audience for an Apatow feature might expect loose improv-style comedy, but they expect a sketch to be a haiku. They want whatever happens is either funny or directly setting up something funny — anything else, however well-intentioned or brilliantly-observed, is going to feel like it doesn’t belong.

    So: a good six-minute sketch with a better three-minute sketch somewhere in there.

    Mr. Porter came through with a much more Tex-Avery-style cartoon.

    And my god it’s a good premise. Elmer Fudd accepting an award for his research into Hammerspace is a great idea for a setting — it’s meta, but it’s meta like the original cartoons were, not meta in that godawful, too-cool-for-the-material style. And the mayhem that happens makes perfect sense for the cartooniverse.

    That said, there are ways to improve the sketch.

    I’d find a different (and faster) way into the material. I’d cut the opening news segment and just establish in the first shot that Fudd is at an award ceremony. Bugs can announce that Fudd has won for black holes. Fudd can extract his acceptance speech out of one such black hole.

    Then you follow it up with anti-physics mayhem á la “Presto

    Then there’s my sketch, “Frank Defeats the Angel of Death”.

    By this point, I have a straightforward workflow for Sketchwar. I get the topic on Saturday, and then I spend a few days freewriting, writing down lots of sluglines for what my sketch might be about. And as I’m doing this, I’m trying to find the one interesting thing that will get me from an idea to a completed sketch.

    Every time I’ve written something decent for Sketchwar, there’s been that one aspect of the piece that’s seen me through it. For the history piece, it was Joey’s overenthusiastic voice. For the first-date piece, it was the image of a couple at a restaurant suddenly attacked by ninjas. There’s always that one little thing that makes you giggle like mad, and you write a whole sketch just as an excuse to include it.

    In this case, I started thinking about cartoons. Then I started thinking about the great silent cartoons. And I thought about how those usually have simple objectives and really clear protagonists and antagonists. I figured I might have a cat as a protagonist.

    Somehow from that I wrote down the title “Frank Defeats the Angel of Death” and, well, that’s the sketch I had to write. You can’t think of a title that cool and then go write something else.

    All in all, I’m happy with what I wrote. I got the buildup going the way I wanted it — start with just the lobbed Christmas-tree ornaments, and then go from there. I got some good re-use out of the few elements in the room: tree, drink, fireplace.

    The ending was a bit wobbly. I knew I had to have Frank accidentally topple the tree — I think that’s what everybody expects, no? — and having that happened as the party guests arrived was a good way to make the situation even worse.

    I had a devil of a time figuring out where to go from there. In early outlines, I had the angel merely injured in the climactic battle, and then come back from the trash later on. I had Frank’s “explanation” fail utterly. I just never got a good ending out of it.

    The first good step was incinerating the angel. (“Ah! I can re-use the fireplace!”) The second good step was throwing in the reversal — Frank is in desperate trouble, and then everybody feels sorry for him and gives him tuna. I don’t know if re-using the popcorn rope really works as a last beat, but I needed some kind of reincorporation.

    That said, I think the whole thing could be funnier. I got a certain amount of humor out of Olive’s[1] yuppie yammering, but the scene itself is more “straightforward action” than I’d like.

    All in all, though, I’m content with my cartoon. The next two I wrote? I’m less happy with those.

    More later….

    ______
    [1] Note: I didn’t intentionally name-check Frank and Ollie with this, but I did notice it about halfway through writing.

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Cartoons Edition

    Sufferin’ Succatash! We’ve got three very animated sketches this week on the topic of cartoons. Anvils were dropped, gravity was defied, and meddling kids and their dog spoiled plans. Let’s get to it.

    Check them out. We’ve got a Hanna-Barbera, a Loony Tunes, and what I’m picturing as a Tex Avery. Good stuff.

    Next week’s topic of death: the heist.

    If you think you’ve got the comedy chops to do battle with our scarred and bitter warriors, if you dare step into the hailstorm of seltzer and cream pies, if you think you’re MAN ENOUGH to make us laugh, write a sketch and contact us at sketchwar(nospam)@dreamloom.com.

  • Cartoons Edition (Coyote’s Entry)

    The Acme Prize

    INT. TV STUDIO – DAY

    Toonday Show studio. MATT MALLARD sits with MEREDITH MEERKAT and AL ELEPHANT on the couch.

    MATT

    Exciting news from the world of science today. The recipients of this years’ Acme Prizes are about to receive their awards, including our own Toonday Show correspondant and Avery Institute fellow, Abner Fudd.

    MEREDITH

    I didn’t even know Abner was a real scientist.

    AL

    What did you think he was?

    MEREDITH

    I thought he was just like Sanjay Bluejay.

    CUT TO:

    SANJAY BLUEJAY sitting behind a desk bobbing his head up and down up and down in a glass of water. He notices the camera and smiles with 88 pearly whites.

    SANJAY

    Good cholesterol, good. Bad cholesterol, bad. *SQUAWK*

    CUT TO:

    Back to the couch.

    MATT

    No, Abner’s not just a bobbing head. Let’s go to the awards ceremony.

    INT. AUDITORIUM – DAY

    ABNER FUDD is a very short man with a very large egghead. He is resplendent in tails standing on stage next to JACK RABBIT.

    JACK

    Abner, congratulations. Can you try to explain your research to the audience at home?

    ABNER

    I’ll do my best, Jack. My research concerns black holes.

    JACK

    Like this one?

    Jack pulls a floppy black disc from his jacket and drops it on the floor. Then he jumps into it. He pops back up a second later with an old seltzer bottle and sprays Abner in the face.

    ABNER

    Exactly.

    Abner pulls a black hole from his jacket, drops it, jumps in, and pops up with a shotgun.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    When they were first discovered by Steven Chickenhawking, we didn’t know much about them. My research sheds new light on them and give us a clue what the tooniverse was like in the very first picoseconds after the Big Bang.

    (beat)

    Speaking of big bangs…

    Abner lifts the shotgun and pulls the trigger multiple times, chasing Jack around the stage as he shoots at him.

    Jack jumps back into his black hole, reaches his hand out, and pulls the black hole into itself. Abner stops shooting, stands still, and scratches his head.

    As Abner turns around, looking for Jack, Jack pops out of Abner’s black hole with a giant wooden sledgehammer and BASHes Abner over the head. A lump rises, and birds circle and tweet. Jack puts his paws on Abner’s shoulders and guides him to a podium.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    (singing)

    I’m a little teapot, short and stout…

    Jack pulls out a bundle of dynamite and hands it to Abner.

    JACK

    In honor of Alfred Acme, the inventor of dynamite, allow me to present you with the 2009 Acme Prize in Physics.

    ABNER

    (shaking his head clear)

    Thank you. Thank you so much. This is so wonderful. I never thought–

    At the other end of the stage at the end of a long fuse, Jack pushes down on a plunger, blowing up the dynamite. Abner’s face is blackened with soot, his collar askew, his hair burnt off.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    You’re despicable.

    BLACKOUT:

  • FSW: Cartoons Edition (Peter’s entry)

    Friday Sketch War
    Cartoons Edition
    “Frank Defeats the Angel of Death”

    FADE IN:

    TITLE CARD: “Frank Defeats the Angel of Death”

    INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

    FRANK, a cat, sleeps in a basket on a hardwood floor.

    He wears a collar with a name tag attached.

    A large Christmas tree sits in one corner of the living room, near the front door.

    A creepy- and androgynous-looking ANGEL with tiny wings sits atop the tree.

    A fire roars in the fireplace.

    Nearby, OLIVE (30s) holds a large drink and talks on her cell phone.

    OLIVE

    I’m just about ready for the dinner party.

    ANGLE ON FRANK

    — snoozing happily.

    OLIVE (O.S.)

    Thanks, I am so nervous. Both of my bosses will be here, and everyone from the book club.

    CLUNK.

    A red-ball Christmas-tree decoration rolls past Frank’s basket.

    Frank idly sharpens his claws on the basket, but doesn’t wake.

    OLIVE (O.S.)

    You’re right. I can make a good impression.

    CLUNK.

    Another Christmas-tree decoration rolls by.

    Frank opens one eye.

    OLIVE (O.S.)

    You and Terrill are bringing the fruit dip, right?

    Frank looks around, and is alarmed to see —

    AT THE TOP OF THE TREE

    The angel has sprung to life!

    OLIVE

    I know! I love guavas!

    BACK TO SCENE

    With malevolent glee, the angel flings another red-ball Christmas decoration at Olive.

    Olive, looking the other way, doesn’t notice.

    OLIVE

    Well, you’ll have to tell us all about the Caymans.

    The decoration misses her ricochets off the wall, and rolls underfoot.

    OLIVE

    I just love that little — WAAAGH!

    Olive trips on the decoration and lands on the floor next to the tree.

    The drink lands on the floor, making a puddle.

    Olive glances at the angel, and the angel reverts back to a motionless, innocent-looking ornament.

    OLIVE

    I tripped on a Christmas decoration.

    Frank blinks a few times, shakes his head, and looks up to see —

    — Olive standing in the puddle, phone in hand.

    OLIVE

    Really, I’m fine. Just clumsy.

    The angel now has a length of Christmas lights, frayed and sparking at one end.

    The angel lowers the live wire towards the puddle.

    OLIVE

    You know, I called Harry, but I think he has that — what, fundraiser thing?

    Closer.

    Closer.

    It’s an inch away from the puddle, and then —

    Frank leaps into the air!

    He grasps the Christmas lights midair, carrying the wire out of harm’s way.

    He lands in a heap in the corner.

    OLIVE

    What’s that? Oh, that’s just Frank.

    Frank, still holding the lights, un-heaps himself and sees —

    — the angel using a candy cane to skim down the lights like a zipwire.

    The angel lands on Frank.

    OLIVE

    Yeah — he runs from one room to another sometimes. Crazy. Cute, but crazy.

    Frank throws the angel off.

    The angel pulls a red ball off the tree and holds it menacingly.

    Frank looks smug and unworried.

    OLIVE

    Yeah. Yeah. But do you think Harry knows how he feels? — y’know, how he really feels?

    The angel cracks the ball into two jagged pieces, which he wields with martial-arts-style panache.

    Frank panics and grabs the nearest thing to hand. It’s a length of popcorn rope.

    They fight. Frank uses the rope to block one attack, then another.

    OLIVE

    Glenlivet, of course. I mean, it costs, but —

    Frank whips the rope around one jagged piece of metal, and rips the weapon out of the angel’s hand.

    Frank does the same to the other.

    OLIVE

    Absolutely. That is so right.

    Frank whips the rope at the angel, BUT —

    — the angel grabs the free end.

    Tug-of-war.

    The angel drags Frank off his feet and ties him up.

    OLIVE

    You know, I always get my dipping trays from the farmer’s market.

    The angel drags Frank toward the FIREPLACE.

    Frank struggles.

    Frank panics.

    Frank has an idea: he unsheaths his claws!

    OLIVE

    Yeah. It’s just there’s always something you overlook, y’know? Not until the last minute —

    Frank cuts himself free of the rope.

    He piles into the angel.

    The two of them disappear into the tree.

    They reappear a third of the way up the tree, fighting.

    They reappear two-thirds of the way up the tree, fighting.

    They reappear at the very top of the tree, fighting.

    OLIVE

    Oh, of course! You’re right. I’ll just have to make do without feta.

    Finally, Frank plants the angel firmly on the treetop, gets a series of good swats in, grabs the angel —

    — and flings him off the tree.

    The angel arcs downward, fluttering his tiny, ineffectual wings —

    — towards the FIREPLACE!

    (Think Die Hard.)

    FOOM!

    Crispy dead angel.

    Frank heaves a sigh of relief.

    And another.

    And now THE TREE IS TIPPING OVER.

    Frank makes a mad scramble, but it’s no use —

    — the tree smashes to the floor.

    Decorations scatter.

    Tinsel floats down.

    Frank slides across the hardwood to a stop.

    The front door OPENS to reveal —

    — a crowd of PARTY GUESTS.

    OLIVE

    Oh my god!

    Frank freezes with panic.

    OLIVE

    Frank!

    Frank tries to provide a quick, nonverbal explanation of everything that has happened so far.

    Halfway in, Olive scoops him up.

    OLIVE

    Aw, are you okay?

    GUEST #1

    I think the tree fell on him!

    Frank puts on a sad face.

    GUEST #2

    Let me give him some tuna!

    FADE TO:

    INT. LIVING ROOM – LATER

    Olive and the guests chat indistinctly.

    The tree stands upright, a bit disheveled.

    Frank, bloated and happy, eats the last of a big dish of tuna.

    He waddles back to his basket.

    He suddenly goes to the tree, nabs a length of popcorn rope off the tree, and returns to the basket.

    He holds the rope and eyes the room warily, but drifts off to sleep.

    FADE OUT.

  • FSW: Cartoons Edition (Ken’s Entry)

    Happy New Year everyone! I unexpectedly took last week off (meaning I realized Saturday night that the day before was Sketch War Friday….ummmm…ooopps).

    This weeks theme was cartoons, and despite a promising start to a SuperFriends sketch (remember that red spikey thing in front of the Hall of Justice??), I ended up revisiting one of my favorite cartoons, and putting a little spin on the first girl cartoon character I had a crush on.

    The other battlers will report in soon!!!
    __________________________________________________________

    INT. HAUNTED MANSION – NIGHT

    DAPHNE, VELMA, SCOOBY, SHAGGY and FRED stand in the foyer of a dilapidated dark mansion, complete with grand decaying staircase, grandfather clock, cobwebs – all the haunted trimmings.

    FRED

    Alright, let’s split up and see if we can find this bearded ghost. Daphne and I will go this way, Velma you go that way with Scooby and Shaggy.

    VELMA

    Actually Fred, Daphne and I are going together this time. You go with Scooby and Shaggy.

    FRED pauses and looks at VELMA.

    FRED

    Very funny Velma. Daphne come on, we’re going this way.

    DAPHNE

    No Fred….not this time. Not ever again. I want to go with Velma.

    FRED looks at SHAGGY and SCOOBY, who just shrug their shoulders.

    FRED

    Daphne, you and I always go together, always!

    DAPHNE

    Fred, I’ve been in denial about some things for a long time, and I’m just starting to come to grips with them.

    FRED

    Stop kidding around. You and I always go together when we split up, because we’re the two attractive ones of the group.

    DAPHNE

    That’s just it Fred. I’ve gone with you all those times because I felt like I SHOULD be attracted to you, but…it never felt right.

    VELMA

    It’s okay Daphne, tell him the rest.

    DAPHNE

    I think I developed some subconscious resentment towards you Fred…I wanted to be attracted to you, and when I wasn’t it made me do stupid things.

    VELMA

    All those traps she accidentally sprung weren’t an accident Fred. Her subconscious was trying to kill you.

    DAPHNE

    It was my way out…if you were gone I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

    VELMA

    Danger-prone Daphne was really "Need-to-get-Fred-out-of-my-life" Daphne.

    FRED

    But…all those times…when we’d split up…and we’d have sex when we were supposed to be hunting ghosts.

    DAPHNE

    Don’t make this harder than it is Fred.

    FRED

    We’d blame your moaning on ghosts.

    DAPHNE

    Fred, please…

    FRED

    I MADE YOU ORGASM!!! HARD!!! EVERY TIME!!!

    DAPHNE

    I faked it, every time! Just to save your big ego!!! I just pretended. I’d close my eyes and imagine you were someone else….someone I WAS attracted to. I just did whatever I could to get through it.

    FRED sulks for a moment, taking it all in.

    FRED

    Fine. But think about what you’re giving up. Any woman would kill to have a guy with his own custom van.

    VELMA

    (sarcastically)

    The paint job alone should do it.

    FRED

    A guy with some athletic ability, and good fashion sense.

    VELMA

    You dress like a sailor in the Gay Navy.

    FRED

    (to VELMA)

    This doesn’t involve you.

    VELMA

    Yes, it does. Daphne, go ahead. Tell him the rest.

    DAPHNE

    I can’t…he’s already so upset.

    VELMA

    We talked about this Daphne. It’s like pulling off a band-aid. Do it all at once.

    DAPHNE gathers her courage, then faces FRED again.

    DAPHNE

    It took me a long time to admit it to myself, but the person I kept imagining when we were having sex is part of this group.

    Everything stops, and FRED looks at SHAGGY and SCOOBY, suspiciously. Then FRED slowly turns his head to look at VELMA. DAPHNE walks over hooks her arm through VELMA’s, and rests her head on VELMA’s shoulder.

    FRED

    (to VELMA)

    You goddamn dyke.

    DAPHNE

    She listens to me, understands me…values my opinion.

    FRED

    So it’s just platonic.

    DAPHNE

    Oh GOD no!

    VELMA and DAPHNE laugh, loudly

    DAPHNE

    Only a woman knows how to really please another woman. Velma has surprisingly well-toned arms under that sweater too.

    VELMA

    I need them for doing this….

    VELMA dips DAPHNE and kisses her passionately. SCOOBY, FRED and SHAGGY just stare, slack jawed.

    DAPHNE

    (a bit flustered)

    Velma is soooo decisive…when she wants something she just goes for it. And trust me, her traps always work.

    DAPHNE giggles as she leans into Velma.

    VELMA

    Come on purple. Let’s go down this way and find us some moaning ghosts.

    VELMA smacks DAPHNE loudly on the butt. DAPHNE giggles, then heads down the corridor.

    VELMA

    So, Fred, from now on, when we split up, Daphne goes with me, capice?

    (off to DAPHNE)

    Hey purple, that’s a bedroom on the left – I bet there’s a loud moaning ghost in there!

    Giggles from down the hallway. VELMA looks back at FRED with a knowing grin, then exits after DAPHNE. FRED just stares after them.

    SHAGGY

    So, uh, Fred. Maybe we should, like, go look for that Bearded ghost like you said.

    FRED

    There is no bearded ghost. It’s just old man Laskey in a costume scaring people off so he can run a real estate scam.

    SHAGGY

    Zoiks! Like, how’d you know that man?

    FRED

    I pay this detective friend for fake ghost cases he’s already solved whenever I want to get laid. We’ve never gone on a real unsolved mystery.

    SHAGGY

    Like….wow dude. All this time I thought we were actually, like, finding clues, solving mysteries and helping people and stuff.

    SCOOBY

    Ree roo!!!

    SHAGGY

    Now I’m like all bummed and stuff.

    SCOOBY

    Ree roo.

    SHAGGY and SCOOBY walk start to slowly exit the same way as DAPHNE and VELMA

    FRED

    Where are you two going?

    SHAGGY

    Like there’s only one thing that can cheer me up right now – amateur girl-on-girl action. These old mansions have secret watching holes all over the place.

    FRED

    Won’t they see us?

    SHAGGY

    You and Daphne never did.

    FRED thinks for a moment

    FRED

    Alright, here’s the plan. You two go ahead and find a hiding spot with a good clear view. I’ll go get the video camera I keep in the Mystery Machine!

    SHAGGY

    Now that’s the Fred I’d follow anywhere!

    SCOOBY

    Rrrrrroooby dooooooooo!

    BLACK OUT