O Gato Fritz

I'm not particularly a cartoon-fan. I saw " Fritz the cat" in an obscure movie theatre in Ghent (Belgium)in the early seventies. There were about 5 people in the theatre and 2 left after half an hour.

I enjoyed the story: it's about a young guy who discovers the "real" world with all his odd aspects, as the situation was in the late sixties.

The music in this film is super: I discovered the great Charles Earland (Black talk), Duke's Theme from Ray Shanklin, Mamblues (Cal Tjader), Bertha's theme (Ray Shanklin) and even Billy Holiday 's wonderful "yesterdays".

Those who believe there are racist tendencies in the movie don't dig anything about "Jewish" humour.

After having watched this movie, I left the cinema with the conviction:" Hey, in fact I am Fritz the cat ", and believe me, at that time, I was!

From what I had heard of this film and the other user comments posted, I was expecting a simple little shock cartoon. What I got was good kick in the pants. And I mean that in a good way. "Fritz the Cat" in many ways exposes the 1960's more than the live action films of its own decade.

The movie starts with 3 construction workers talking on top of an unfinished building. The dialogue is very spontaneous and almost seems ad-libbed. These types of conversations are sprinkled throughout the 80 minute film.

It then transitions to Fritz the cat, a college student who, like many of that era I'm sure, is not sure what it's all for. He decides to "do something real" and ventures into Harlem. From here he meets a wide assortment of people, incites a riot, and has sex with many a woman. It may not always have a point, but the movie has one fun segment after another with little breathing room. Sometimes unnecessarily shocking, sometimes surprisingly inspired, but always quick on its feet.

So please give it a chance. It's a lot more than the notorious cartoon porn it's been labeled as. It's a fun romp through the deprived New York of the 60's, except this time with cartoon characters! What's not to like?

7/10

The bad thing about the past is that it is designed to fool you.

The idea is supposed to be that the past stays fixed, as a sort of "truth." And we change. But viewed from ourselves, often the illusion or even the truth is the reverse. We know who we are. We think we recall who we were -- which we envision is some state on the way to who we are. Something relatively static, which means that the past changes. Radically.

Or at least artifacts from the past change, artifacts like movies. All this is complicated by the fact that movies are a key tool we use to define ourselves.

So it is a strange trip indeed to encounter something that DID define us, that we allowed to tell us who we were. And to find it so vacuous, so superficial it shocks.

If you were not a hippie in that era you may need to know the great schisms at work. (I mean the era depicted here -- 1969 -- not the actual date of the movie.)

You had the east coast hippies who were the sons and daughters of the beat generation. We were interested in ideas and art, and life as both. You had the "political" hippies, who were motivated by unhappiness and determined to change what they didn't like in the name of the values of more "genuine" hippies.

And then you had the west coast hippies. These were the ones captured by drugs, "free" sex and dropping out. To differentiate themselves, they adopted the icons of death.

At the time, there was as much confusion among these three as between any one of them and the Nixonites. (This was in the days of the "moral majority" and before the rise of the religious right which evolved from it.)

And where there is is identity confusion, art rushes in. The Beatles of course, and central. Eastern "religions."

And R Crumb.

Crumb was a magnet, pulling many from the other camps into the west coast sphere. He made it seem less radical than it was -- more about cruising (which he called "truckin") and simply enjoying the cornucopia of round women God places there only for pleasure.

We bought it, all of us. It was a sort of commercial identity, sort of like what you see today that surrounds Valentine's day. A vague notion of self and others and satisfied living.

Now, we look at this and it seems the past has moved away from us, away from truth. Was this ever good, or did we only pretend it so because we were so hungry to be defined?

I recently saw a Mickey Rooney movie where he introduces himself to Judy Garland as "white, free and available." I recoiled. I rejected that past. I had nearly the same feeling when watching this, even though it is/was my past.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.

I came across the recently released DVD of this film in, of all places, the children's video section of Virgin Megastore. Whether or not this poorly miscategorized placement was of simple ignorance or whether the intent weas subversive and it was intentionally and deliberately placed in the children's section, I found myself grinning and reluctant inform anyone of the error. After all, nobody gave me any forewarnings when I was a kid either, as some things you just have to discover on your own, and the thought of some poor innocent parents popping this film on for their kid only to look on in horror at the visions that would soon unfold sounded dastardly and funny indeed.

I was 7 years old when Fritz the Cat first hit the screen, and while I didn't see the film for the first time until I was well into my twenties, the film nevertheless had a lasting impact on my childhood. This film had taken on a reputation of mythical proportions in my Brooklyn hometown neighborhood, partly due to the older teens on my street who were all too eager to share shocking details contained therein, as only the best subversive intentions can do, and further securing the film's status as "every parent's nightmare". To a child about to undergo serious growing pains and a naturally growing curiosity towards all things "adult-related", Fritz the Cat was very much my earliest childhood memory of the themes of sex, drugs, rock-n-roll, racism, you name it, and it was a symbol for naughtiness that all coming of age kids couldn't wait to catch a sneak peak of, or at least couldn't wait to reach the age when we could view such subject matter freely.

As a movie, it hasn't lost any of it's impact in 30 years, and fewer films truly capture the grittiness and raw edge of New York city in the 70's (French Connection is another good example). I dare say that it could be considered more offensive now than ever, as I fear that today many just might not "get it," despite our self-proclamation that we've come a long way in maturity and tolerance of such sensitive issues. Modern society has become so politically correct and desensitized to controversial issues that we're less tolerant and understanding of the original intent of a film such as this, especially when it's messages are not consistent with our modern value system. Thus, some of the obvious stereotypes presented in this film (such as the pigs portraying cops and the crows portraying blacks, for example), could never be presented in a film today. Granted, these images were meant to be offensive in the 70's as well, but they were obviously taken in a different light back then, as they were indicative of a specific brand of biting satire found in the 70's and hippie culture and a reflection of how that particular generation could openly address such social issues. These issues, such as racism, are clearly still relevant today, we just address them in a different manner, which is why Fritz the Cat still has potency yet is more or less looked upon as a curious time capsule of a bygone era today.

That is how the 1960s were described by the narrator in the beginning of this film. Fritz the Cat is a famous movie for a number of reasons, most stemming from it being the first feature-length adult cartoon and having an "X" rating. There were controversies surrounding its creation with director Ralph Bakshi and character creator Robert Crumb. The film is like nothing I have ever seen before. It has a unique animation process that makes everything reek seediness, despair, and cry for social change. Bakshi wrote the script which really is nothing more than the knife that cuts through all the 60's BS - from existentialism to the drug culture to the love generation to African-American perspectives to militancy. Nothing is spared as the counterculture is laid bared and examined through the eyes, ears, fears, and desires of Fritz the Cat. Along the way, Fritz experiments with just about anything - including lots of sex, drugs, and sex. While the film definitely is quite vulgar in many ways with some of the most odious characterizations of otherwise cute and cuddly animals and depicting lots of strong sexual situations(though in no way deserving the "X" by today's standards), Fritz the Cat is also an intelligent look at one character's drive to find himself and meaning in his life - perhaps a symbol for the whole decade the film is examining. The end result is nothing conclusive - also perhaps a symbol. Bakshi's script is in some ways profound and thought-provoking and in some ways infantile and vile - his obvious dislike of police just one example. But what had my attention more than anything else was the animation - particularly in exterior shots not containing characters. There is one scene where the slums of Harlem are integral to the story. Bakshi uses his camera to zoom in on quite an impressive animated background shot of a field lost amongst the slums of Harlem. It is the very essence of seedy existence in an uncaring world. There are many other shots too that have that same power, but let's not forget that even with the intelligent at times script and the animation, much of Fritz the Cat is used solely to arouse - either arouse some primal feelings or arouse offense. A landmark film at any rate whether for good or for bad.