Greedy Humpty Dumpty (1936)

Greedy Humpty Dumpty (A Max Fleischer Color Classic, 1936) 
Dir.: Dave Fleischer
Animators: David Tendlar; William Sturm
Music: Sammy Timberg; Bob Rothberg
Cel Bloc Rating: 6/9

As I said yesterday, animators don't need to know the history behind something to continue on apace with a project. It might help if the subject you are lampooning or portraying has some sort of historical importance or is a current figure in the headlines; some good jokes can come out of even the simplest morsel of dogged research. But we are talking about nursery rhyme and fairy tale characters for the most part when discussing the animated films of the first half of the 20th century. All that you really need to use for a springboard is the most basic information at the disposal of both yourself and the audience. And that information? In the case of Mr. Humpty Dumpty, that information is encased in four very famous lines; lines so famous, that it is not only one of the first poems that most children hear in their lives, it is also one of the first cautionary tales they hear, too:

"Humpy Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again."

So short; so concise; so... lacking in detail. Perhaps due to its history as a riddle in which children are supposed to guess Humpty's identity, the poem is locked in mystery, especially its etymologic origins; but, I've said before that I want to skip all of that folderol to concentrate on the mystery of Humpty himself. Who is he, besides an egg? Why did he have a great fall, and why was he sitting there in the first place? After his fall, why are the king's resources spent trying to reassemble him? Is he the king?

In Max Fleischer's 1936 Color Classic, Greedy Humpty Dumpty, Humpty actually IS the king: the king of Nursery Rhyme Land, that is. On top of that, according to the title of the film, he is greedy, and this character deficiency has turned poor Mr. Dumpty into a tyrant. Like most tyrants, he hides this bad behavior (or is self-deluded into thinking he has hidden it) under a veneer of gaiety and forced cheerfulness. Perched high atop a wall, wearing a gold crown and glutting himself on a turkey leg, he looks for all the world like an ovoid Henry the Eighth, and he opens the cartoon with a burst of boastful song quite literally fit for a king…

"I'm Humpty Dumpty, king of wealth,
and this wall of gold is my throne!
I've built it high so it touches the sky!
This wall is all my own!
The more I have, the more I want;
I love this glistening stuff!
There's power untold in these pieces of gold,
I've never had enough!"

But, there is dissent at large in the kingdom. Peering up at their king from a log, Little Boy Blue and Little Bo Peep (who is knitting clothing straight from her sheep) voice the people's discontent with their own song…

"Ohhhh... Look out! Look out!
Some day you're gonna fall!
Look out! Look out!
You aren't smart at all!
Oh Me! Oh My!
You go too high!
You'll be sorry by and by!"

The Old Woman in the Shoe reprimands the tyrant with a round of scolding…

"Look out! Look out!
The years have made me wise!
I know the end
Of all you greedy guys!
You've got to stop
While you’re on top --"

Her kids peek out of the shoe, pull the broom out from under their mother's arm and knock her down. They finish the song in a giggling fashion…

"Or you're gonna take the plop!"

King Humpty merely laughs off all of this bad press, drops a handful of gold coins into a pants pocket that looks more like it is carved in his side like a piggy bank, and wanders back to the golden-spired castle that is surrounded by his great wall of gold. Inside an antechamber, filled to the rafters with bags and bars and loose piles of gold, Humpty takes to playing on a table with a stack of coins, laughing lustily the entire time. But then the sun pokes its sunlight into the room, and Humpty is taken with the stray ray of light. "Gold! Gold! Gold!", he shouts, and climbs up his piles to peer directly out the window at the sun. When he looks at its center, he imagines that it is of the most detailed finery, and he yells with a righteous fury, still continuing to rhyme…

"Why didn't I know 
there was gold in the sun?
I'll get that, too, 
before I am done!"

He runs back outside to his wall, checks himself before he falls off accidentally (and thereby wrecking himself), and then calls the citizens of the land to gather for some important news…

"There's gold in the sun! 
I saw it there!
Precious gold that is so rare!
So, get busy, everyone!
Build my wall to reach the sun!"

Mother Goose, who must have lost the kingdom to Humpty Dumpty in an earlier story, offers him some sage advice…

"Don't climb too high 
to build your wall
'Cause the higher you crawl, 
the harder you'll fall!"

This enrages the eggy monarch, and he pulls out a whip to make his point crystal clear. He cracks it over the heads of the populace and threatens them thusly…

"If you value your lives, 
and also your health,
You'll dive right in, 
for I want more wealth!"

The citizenry, fearing for their lives now, do indeed dive into building the wall higher! Scores of people carry sacks labeled "Gold Dust" to a trough where the Three Men In A Tub mix it with water to form mortar. The Rock-a-bye Baby gets in the act, using a bucket to pour the mortar along the top of the wall by sliding his cradle in the treetops along a branch. Mother Goose's namesake pet is a dedicated bricklayer, using its pointed beak for a perfect trowel. Pelicans also pick up mouthfuls of the mortar and pour it along the wall, while storks, too, help out the dispersal of the building materials. Witches on broomsticks carry the bulk of the workload, picking up large loads of bricks and dropping them perfectly into place on flyover missions. The wall eventually completely envelops the castle, even its spires, but still Humpty orders them to build higher.

At last, he is but a few feet away from the sun, and King Humpty himself stacks the last few bricks into place. He almost falls when he stands at its peak, but he balances himself, and then pulls out a huge axe and swings it at the golden orb. The effect is devastating -- and completely expected. Flames shoot out from the surface right at Humpty and he has to duck in order to avoid getting roasted. But somehow, lightning jumps out in the form of a stick figure, picks up Humpty, lays him over its knee and spanks him fiercely. He cries and rubs his backside, but the sun is not finished with him -- not by a long shot! Another lightning charge shoots out and takes the form of a jackhammer, caving in the side of the tower. It sways precariously from side to side, losing more bricks with each sway, and Humpty has to fight to keep from falling.

But fall he does when the entire structure finally collapses, taking Humpty's treetop castle with it, and as the yolk-filled despot falls to earth, he has one last relapse of greed. On the way down, he reaches out hungrily for a falling brick of gold, but then realizes he is doomed, and releases the object of his desire. He hits the ground with a disgusting splat, and there is soon nothing left of him but shards of broken shell. Various hands reach in to rebuild the fallen monarch, and he sings a tale of woe upon his reconstruction:

"Oh, I climbed too high
To build my wall,
But I got too greedy
And I had a great fall!"

He holds together for mere seconds before he falls to pieces for the last time. A choir then recites the last two lines of the famous poem, and the Nursery Rhyme kingdom is less one tyrant.

The Fleischers take the Dumpty storyline (such as it is) and run with it, imagining exactly who he really is, where he lives (a given, when considering the source of the poem), and detailing both exactly why he is on the wall and why he falls from it. It doesn't matter whether the poem actually mentions any of this detail or not; what is important is that the poem is successful enough in the human imagination that anyone can imagine the reasoning behind Humpty Dumpty's plight in infinite variations. Humpty's charge towards the sun is rhythmically strong as drama, with a slow and careful build (and, in Humpty's case, climb) to the conclusion. And the visual depiction of Humpty reaching the sun and battling it is a unique vision, and when the sun's defense springs into action, it is savage and brutal.

What disappoints me, though, is that yet again a nursery rhyme land is imagined (such as in Warner Bros.' Sniffles and the Bookworm, reviewed recently here), but while much thought has been given to the main character, little is done with the rich cast of Mother Goose characters at their disposal. Five or six characters are seen briefly, but then the action is turned over to squadrons of nondescript witches, storks and pelicans. I would have rather seen the different manners in which Jack Sprat and his wife help out; Simple Simon could klutz about and provide comic relief; -- and damn it! Jack built a whole house; why not let him and his rat and cat and dog and so on run riot while building the wall. Not to mention Jack and Jill; you already have characters moving pails about -- why, that's a natural for the unlucky pair! And certainly the Three Blind Mice could provide some politically incorrect chuckles misplacing various objects whilst building away? There are so many characters, and so many possibilities, that it seems perhaps the Fleischers got a little lazy again in the story area while concentrating so hard on developing the lead character.

And what is more shocking than a nursery rhyme character, generally though to be a cheerful and carefree sort until his plunge, picking up a bullwhip and cracking it angrily at the populace of his town? Not just the S&M overtones; not the totalitarian threat inherent in his actions; but the fact that it comes from a character of relative innocence, apart from his greedy habits, before this moment makes it all the more memorable.

Now, if only I could gather a conference together to discuss this weird cannibalism thing in the cartoon world. Daffy and Donald Duck regularly eat or crave the flesh of other fowl in various films, and now here, in an even kinkier twist on self-species destruction, Humpty Dumpty, an egg, though of unknown origin, is devouring the leg of some bird, most likely a turkey, in keeping with the play on Hank the In-Between-Seventh-and-Ninth. I know greed knows no limits, but come on...

If there are turkeys far smaller than the egg that is Humpty, then from what monstrous creature did Humpty drop? An allosaurus?

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it...

[This article was revised and updated on 1/18/2016. My thanks to the anonymous person who long ago helped me figure out a couple of the lines of Humpty's song.]

Humpty Dumpty (1935)

Humpty Dumpty (An Ub Iwerks ComiColor Cartoon, 1935) 
Dir.: Ub Iwerks
Music: Carl Stalling
Cel Bloc Rating: 6/9

I'm not going to get into the supposed and varied sources of the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty. There are enough places that already deal with the whys and wherefores and whats, and I feel as much need to make sense of it all as do the animators who have brought cartoon life to the character over the years. Cannons, kings, blah, blah, blah! 

The disparity between how much information we actually have about Mr. Dumpty, given the brevity of his poem, and the amount of times he has been employed over the many decades in comics and animation is astounding. This is all the information anyone gets from the start:

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
couldn't put Humpty together again."

The poem tells you so little, not even the seemingly necessary fact that Humpty is, indeed, an egg; though as this poem is meant as a riddle leading to that conclusion clears that mystery up for good. It is taken for granted that Humpty is an Ovoid of Notorious Balance; what has not been mentioned is that his skills clearly qualify him for most junior varsity gymnastics teams. (Were he created today, Humpty would possibly be some sort of a combination of idiot narcissist and daredevil, probably the forerunner in the quite narrow subgenre of X-Treme Dairy Products.)

Lewis Carroll was obviously bemused enough with the situation to clear it up for good in Through the Looking Glass, which is one of the early instances of Humpty being given more life than he possessed previously in this tidy little quatrain. In fact, Carroll skewers the structure of the poem by having Alice comment "That last line is much too long for the poetry" (given by Carroll as "couldn't put Humpty Dumpty in his place again," thus making it more ponderous than before).


In 1935, Ub Iwerks, like many studios in the 1930s, took to spending a good deal of time and money trying to compete with Walt Disney's Silly Symphonies series, and started a series, produced in the red-and-blue, predominant, two-color Cinecolor system, called ComiColor Cartoons. Like all of the Symphonic copycat series (and “copycat” is not a putdown, mind you!), the ComiColor shorts were generally cutesy and childlike. They were also severely lacking in the story department.

This does not mean that there weren't some good cartoons in the bunch, along with some excellent characterizations and quite memorable moments. One such cartoon (fun to watch, but with a story so weak you can hear its knees quaking from the strain) is the Iwerks updating of Humpty Dumpty, brought into the modern world with cheap melodramatic devices and poppy jazz. After all, when even the toddlers of the world have your source poem memorized, the only way to go is to set it finger-snappin’ music...

The film opens on a storybook where the credits are presented, and when the page turns, we are shown a window with wooden doors that open up and introduce us to the three main characters. As this is an update, the first egg is Humpty Dumpty, Jr., the son of the late wall-tumbler; the second is his lady love, the beauteous Easter Egg; and the third is the foul-mouthed villain, The Bad Egg. He is quite literally foul-mouthed: a stench wafts from his maw as he sneers at the audience, who cascade him with "Boo! Hiss! Boo!" which is apropos. The action proper begins with the camera showing us a picture of the late Humpty Dumpty, and a choir sings us a chiming version of the poem. It pulls back to reveal his son, Junior, who sits precariously atop the lip of a vase, and continues singing his story:

"My old man may have sat on a wall;
He slipped and had a very great fall!
But I'm Humpty Junior, 
I'm just like my pop!
I climb where I please!
They can't make me stop!"

His mother, sweeping the counter with a broom and worried beyond reason, intervenes, but almost causes her son's death inadvertently. She yells, "Junior! Come down from there!," and Junior is startled enough to lose his balance and fly down towards the ground. Luckily, his mother catches him in her apron. She tells him, "You be careful! That's how your father got cracked!" Junior slinks off, all the while hanging his head in shame.

Enter the heroine, Easter Egg. She skips along cutely, tapping various kitchen items with a stick, and Junior thinks fast and greets her with an armful of greens that he has plucked from a dinner plate. A light jazz number kicks in, and Junior serenades her:

"The moment you arrived, I had a feeling
I'd never be contented 'til we met!
But otherwise it ain't quite so appealing
So won't you join me in an om-e-lette?"

She then joins him in the chorus, as they rock back and forth as they literally spoon within a tablespoon:

"Oh, spooning in a spoon!
We don't need a moon!
Poached or fried or on the side
Morning, night or noon!
Scrambled in a tune,
Deviled with a croon!
In a cup, you're sunny side up,
Spooning in a spoon!"

As they cavort and sing, a kick-line of leggy she-eggs join them through the course of the tune, while The Bad Egg lurks jealously about in the background, peeking and sneering at their act, resplendent in traditional villain's curled mustache, tails, spats and top hat. The pair of love-eggs (I suppose that would make them pre-lovebirds were they fertilized properly) kiss sweetly and repeat the second half of the chorus, but then the villain stomps on the spoon handle, sending the pair flying into the air and onto their oval keisters. The Bad Egg tells Junior to "Scram!" and pushes him down, kidnapping Easter Egg, and carrying her off for his own twisted take on the process of love. Junior attacks him but only gets punched in the eye and knocked down again.

The Bad Egg carries Easter high up on the kitchen shelves where he puts the moves on her, but she runs and tries to stop him with anything in her path: a box of matches, a tomato can, and pepper, which she blows in his face, causing him to sneeze. Junior reaches the top shelf and charges the pair, but the Bad Egg roughly throws Easter off the shelf and down into a pan full of boiling water. She screams for help as Junior battles the villain, but finally the lovestruck hero breaks away from the melee and rushes to her aid.

Junior fashions a lasso out of some leftover spaghetti, but by the time Junior pulls her out of the water, she has become hard-boiled. To his surprise, she now speaks and looks along the lines of a Mae West. "Aw, scram!", she tells Junior when he tries to embrace her. The villain laughs at this turnabout, and Junior strides towards the heel to exact his revenge, but Easter pushes him out of the way. She hitches up her skirt toughly and starts pummeling the villain with a number of sharp blows to the face.

Junior, excited as usual, shadowboxes off to the side to Easter's every successful punch at the villain's face, but in his fervor, Junior slips and sends himself into the boiling water. At first, he calls for help, but he ends up getting hard-boiled as well. Crawling out of the boiling pan, he delivers a roundhouse punch that sends the Bad Egg flying. Junior then strikes a number of matches and throws them at the creep, surrounding him with flames and burning his rear end. Finally, Junior dumps the entire box of matches down on the Bad Egg. There is a large flash as the matches all catch on fire simultaneously, and when the smoke clears, the villain is revealed to be completely blackened and sick from smoke inhalation. 

The Bad Egg collapses exhausted into the tablespoon, and Junior stomps on the handle to send the Bad Egg sailing to the ground below, where he smashes to bits. As an explanation for his foul breath, a couple dozen skunks run out from the broken shards of his remains! Junior spits into the spoon's cup and it tosses him to the shelf above, where the two now-hardboiled love-eggs meet up. He embraces Easter and they kiss passionately, and then the film cuts back to the opening storybook window, where we see a replay of the chorus to "Spooning in a Spoon" before the book closes. Finis.

When I was a kid, I loved to make finger puppets, and I would do this by measuring a piece of construction paper into rectangular sections and then drawing clothes and faces onto the rectangles, cutting them out, rolling them, and then glueing the opposite ends together to form tiny little puppets. I would often have a hundred of these figures stored in a box by my desk, and each one was different, with distinct faces, clothes, and some even had arms, legs and other props glued onto their outsides. But there was one way in which they were the same: they all had tremendous facial areas that took up about 2/3 of their body lengths, mainly so I could get as much in the area of facial expressions as possible so that they could be seen by an audience (usually my brothers).

It is the same trick here with the eggs in Humpty Dumpty. Their faces easily take up most of their bodies, with only the bottom third left for the torso, arms and legs. Their eyes and mouths are huge and extremely expressive; as a result, with the wildly melodramatics at large in its action, this film would be an excellent example for drawing study.

The problem, though, is the close sticking to melodrama: the only real surprise in the film is the way the formerly innocent, childish eggs "grow up" and get "hard-boiled", though in retrospect, given the "tough guy" stance in most films of the period, maybe it's not really that surprising. But the film remains a visual delight even if there is that much going on storywise. The colors of the piece are remarkably vivid and the line work on the characters is sharp and clean. Overall, the film is politely entertaining, if nothing over which to fall off a wall.

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it:

[This article was updated with new photos on 12/28/15.]

Beauty and the Beast (1934)

Beauty and the Beast (Warner Bros., 1934) 
Dir: Isadore "Friz" Freleng
Cel Bloc Rating: 5/9

It's 10 o'clock, and a little girl who should already be in bed sneaks out to the dining room and devours a pair of bananas, a bunch of grapes and, on the way back to her room, nearly an entire box of chocolates. No wonder her dreams go horribly awry in Beauty and the Beast from 1934, the second of the Warner Bros. Merrie Melodies cartoons released in two-strip CineColor. 

After we see a grandfather clock announce the hour, its pendulum smacking a nearby spittoon rhythmically, the little girl makes her gluttonous attack on the dinner table, shooting the pair of bananas high into the air and then swallowing each one in a single gulp. After doing the same to the grapes, she attacks the chocolates. Getting back to her room with the box in hand, stepping out of the tapestried wallpaper in her room is a creepy-looking man with a sack over his back. This cartoon could have gone any number of horrible ways, what with the little girl showing her bare ass through part of the picture, but instead it is only her friendly neighborhood Sandman, here to get the little girl back into Dreamland where she belongs.

A couple of generous doses of his dust and the little blonde girl is off, flying into the night sky, the walls of her bedroom, covered in ducks and nursery rhyme characters, slowly fade away. She wakes up midway through her flight and she starts to fall. The latch on the bottom of his onesie becomes undone and the whole thing fills up with air, where her bare bottom is revealed. She screams, but her onesie acts briefly as a parachute, and she floats gently for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, the air gives way and she falls again. She hits the ground hard, and we see toys on the ground representing a playing card castle and flowers that get thrown up into the air and land back down in the positions they had before.

She suddenly finds herself in a world that is largely made up of her toys and the characters in the pictures that covered the walls of her bedroom. As she walks, she is surrounded on the sides of a street by cheering and applauding fairy tale and nursery rhyme characters, including Humpty Dumpty. A castle looming in the distance calls to her, and when she runs to it, three trumpeters play a fanfare, and then the gates to the castle open up for her: a drawbridge, and then a pair of increasingly tacky doors.

Upon entering, the little blonde girl -- whom I would suppose is the Beauty of the title, so we will refer to her by that name from this point forward --  is greeted by a huge crowd made up of storybook folk, all greatly overjoyed by her arrival. A trio of court pages sing her a welcome...

"Welcome, little girl!
(welcome)
(little)
(girl)
We are here to please you!
Very glad to meet you!
We will play all day!

The pages begin the second verse, but after singing, "Welcome, little girl," a large frog wearing a jacket bursts in to sing, "A Boop Boop Boop!" One of the pages angrily reaches over to the frog and zips his large mouth shut. The pages continue...

"Welcome to our toyland!
Happy girl and boyland!
[indecipherable] day by day!"

One of the pages steps down to Beauty's level to give her a warning...

"You must be careful
of the Big Bad Beast!"

Three jack-in-the-boxes, which frankly are scarier than any ol' beast, pop up out of their boxes to join in the song...

"And if he gets you,
he'll surely have a feast!"

Beauty is frightened by this, as is appropriate, but the pages finish up their welcome song...

"Welcome, little girl,
(Welcome, little girl!)
to the Land of Slumbers! 
Land of Many Wonders!

And then the whole populace joins in...

"Hi ho!
Little girl!
Hi ho!"

A squad of soldiers marches and dances for her, and Beauty falls in love at first sight with their handsome leader, who frankly doesn't look any different from the rest of the soliders under his command. (So, I guess she is into his position. Power is a marvelous drug.) The soldier, too, is smitten right away with her, and a large red heart shows above his head and pops. "Ain't he cute!" she says, and then she picks him up and kisses him. The shocked soldier's face turns bright red with embarrassment.

Their cute meeting is laughed at by Humpty Dumpty, whose riotous guffaws cause him to fall from the wall upon which he is expectedly sitting. He hits the ground a-crackin', revealing a quintet of wooden ducks, of exactly the type that I cannot resist (those who have read other entries on this blog), who dance at first on their big square feet, but then their feet turn into wheels and they roller-skate a choreographed routine. Far above them on the wall, a gnome crumbles soda crackers into an electric fan, and the crumbs act like snowflakes, giving the skating a winter theme. The ducks zip along but crash into a pile of toy blocks. The blocks are knocked up into the air, and then a single block falls on top of each of the five ducks, spelling out the exclamation (popular then), "N-E-R-T-Z".

The toy citizenry responds with joy, but it might be less for the ducks than for seeing Humpty break his ass again. The soldier leads our heroine to a gate marked Fairy Tale Land, within which are large children's books, presumably the books within the girl's bedroom. One book named (appropriately) Beauty and the Beast is opened and the first verse contained within is sung aloud by Beauty and the toy soldier...

"Beauty and the Beast!
He's so mean and vicious,
she is so suspicious.
Poor little Beauty and the Beast!"

On the cover of Robinson Crusoe, the title character, his man Friday (done up in the stereotypical black style of the day), and a parrot sing the second verse:

"Beauty and the Beast!
[Friday: Bo-bo-bo-bo!]
Each time he would trail her,
her poor nerves would fail her!
Poor little Beauty and the Beast!"

The solider and girl continue the song...

"He waits to snatch her,
he's such an awful cur,
if he should catch her,
what would become of her?

"Beauty and the Beast!
[Mother Goose and her goslings: Wak! Wak! Wak!]
Won't some prince protect her
from this awful spectre?
Poor little Beauty and the Beast!"

Beauty turns the page, and there is a picture of a horrible, hairy beast. Suddenly, he crawls out of the book and attacks them. The soldier closes the book on him, but after he struggles briefly, he is able to crawl back out and chase them. The beast grabs Beauty and carries her off as she screams. The solider winds up a toy plane and throws it into the direction of the villain, and while Beauty kicks the beast repeatedly in the face, the plane shaves a big stripe through the black fur on the beast's back. Beauty gets away, and the plane returns to the monster and shaves circles around his midsection.

The girl rejoins her soldier while the beast advances on them again. In desperation, the soldier pulls out a match and lights the fuse on a nearby toy cannon. The cannon starts to jump up in the air like it is about to burst, but then rubs its bottom in pain on the ground in circles like a dog, and then runs away. The beast grabs Beauty again as she screams over and over. The solider throws a variety of punches at the monster's stomach but they are too no avail. Beauty screams again, and it seems like all is lost...

...and then Beauty wakes up on the floor of her bedroom where the Sandman cast his spell upon her and indigestion got the better of her. She dives into her bed and throws a blanket over her head, her bottom, with pajama flap undone, exposed to the fading light. Iris out, where it focuses on her bare butt. The End (literally)!

The Books Come to Life and Toys Come to Life films at which Warner Bros. became quite prevalent are seemingly combined here in this film, but to no great effect. They were still ten years away from Bob Clampett's sublime Book Revue, the highest possible example of this sort of cartoon. While the outcome in Beauty and the Beast is fun enough for the younger set, it is a clearcut case of one of Warner's best directors, Isadore "Friz" Freleng, being caught in the rut of numbingly routine formula. His staff’s wheels seem to be spinning here as much as the ones on the wooden ducks in the dance routine.

The lessons here to be learned are three-fold: 1) Don't eat before bedtime - it will only lead to nightmares; 2) Don't zipper the mouth of the singing frog character in your film if you don't actually have any other engaging characters, because he was probably the one with which to run; and 3) Don't paint creepy-looking weirdos carrying sacks on the walls of your children's room in the first place. The girl in this film got off lucky that the villain didn’t get off too.

Oh, yeah... and 4) Button your ass-flap.

RTJ

*****

And in case you haven't seen it...

[This article was revised and updated with new photos on 11/11/16.]