Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs

It's been a dream of mine for years to see Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, and I finally achieved that dream. A friend of mine somehow got a copy, and he burned one for me, and at the age of 18 my life is complete. No, I don't think little kids should see it, but I have to say, it lives up to every word of it's reputation. The voice acting and music are great. But what gets me the most is the sheer energy of the thing. It's just a rush for seven and a half minutes. The introductions of each new character are really great (especially Prince Chawmin's. Just exhilarating), and the dance number is spectacular as well. I'm still on a total high. Any fan of animation should see it. It's a great one.

In the late 1980's, a documentary titled Amos 'n Andy: Anatomy of a Controversy looked at the infamous comedy show. Despite the doc's own testimonials by famous black performers who found the show funny, the only way to get the show looked at or praised these days was to surround it with politically correct analysis.

That's most likely the only way that cable TV's Cartoon Network, which owns the rights to Bob Clampett's Snow White parody Coal Black an de Sebben Dwarfs (1943), would ever be able to air this cartoon. Most likely, the Cartoon Networkers won't consider even that ploy, as they have seen fit to remove any possible inflammatory material from their huge backlog of cartoons. That's a great pity, because most of those who have been fortunate enough to view Coal Black regard it as one of Bob Clampett's most jaw-droppingly funny creations.

As has been well documented elsewhere, the unfortunate fact is that, at the time of Coal Black's making, African-Americans were rarely treated as equals to whites on the silver screen. (Dooley Wilson's Sam in Casablanca [1942] is a notable exception, depicting a warm friendship with Humphrey Bogart's Rick. Yet even Sam clears out of the room as soon as Bogie and Ingrid Bergman, the movie's iconic white lovers, reunite.)

And unsubtle stereotypes abound. Just to hit the highlights, "Prince Chawmin'" is a jive-spouting hero with dice for teeth (and he literally turns yellow when So White calls for him to rescue her). "De Sebben Dwarfs" are little more than thick-lipped comic relief.

And the movie begins with the tale being told by a loving "mammy" to her child.

Yet the underlying irony is that the racial aspect is merely a smokescreen for what this cartoon is really about: sex. This film's Wicked Queen doesn't even consider whether she's the fairest one of all; her first words in the story are "Magic mirror on the wall, send me a prince about six feet tall." So White, far from Disney's virginal image of Snow White, wears a low-cut blouse and thigh-high shorts, and she sends blazes of erotic ecstasy through every male she meets. If it weren't for the movie's parody approach, it's difficult to believe that the same censors who got all worked up about Tex Avery's Red Hot Riding Hood series would have let Clampett get away with such brazenness.

The irony is that Bob Clampett intended his cartoon as a tribute to black culture. The movie's hot jazz score (by Eddie Beals) surpasses even Carl Stalling's usual high standards, with some incredible scat singing and white-hot trumpet playing. And So White is voiced by Vivian Dandridge, Dorothy Dandridge's sister, and the Evil Queen is voiced by their mother Ruby, which is enough to at least give the movie a legitimate pedigree. Beyond that, this cartoon is to Clampett's oeuvre what What's Opera, Doc? is to Chuck Jones's canon--a look at a Warner Bros. cartoon director at the height of his control. Like Jones's opera parody/tribute, Coal Black goes beyond funny to just plain astounding. Even in fifth-generation bootlegs, the cartoon is rich in the sort of frame-exploding work that has made Clampett's reputation. Even though many of the wartime references (to shortages and the military) date this cartoon far worse that most WB efforts, the jokes still come across quite clearly. (When Mammy tells us how rich the Evil Queen is, the camera pans across her riches: piles of stockpiled sugar and rubber tires.)

There is plenty to be offended about in Coal Black an de Sebben Dwarfs, if offense is all that you seek. But the most memorable cartoons are usually the ones that get somebody's dander up. In an era where Keenan Ivory Wayans makes the most profitable Afro-American movie ever (Scary Movie) by taking R-rated swipes at penises and mental retardation, surely there's room in our culture for a comparatively benign (and far funnier) six-minute cartoon.

I have only one gripe about this cartoon (which has nothing to do with the racial stereotyping). It seems to run very quickly -- even more so than most Avery/Clampett cartoons of the era -- and tends to become disjoint at points. This is probably due to the fact that Bob Clampett wanted to make this a two-reeler (~13 minutes), but producer Leon Schlesinger was totally against the idea of an animated film going beyond one reel (possibly some anti-Disney sentiment?) Yes, this cartoon should not be shown on regular TV, because it is shocking and too many people are uptight about political correctness -- not to mention that many of the war references would go over the public's head. However, I firmly believe that this cartoon should be made readily available to art historians, war historians, sociologists, musicians, and aspiring animators. It still holds great value to all of those fields to this day.

There's no way on Earth you'll ever see it on Cartoon Network, even though it's in their vaults. It would cause more controversy than BIRTH OF A NATION these days. But viewed with an open mind, it's one of the most hysterical cartoons ever made, by "Termite Terrace" or any other studio. It's more like a tribute to great black jazz than anything else, with perhaps the most astounding score ever recorded for a cartoon. Granted, "Prince Chawmin'" has dice for teeth, but I wouldn't say he's any more offensive than Martin Lawrence on his Fox TV series. If you can get a copy of it on videocassette (and you can, just not

readily), you'll be very gratified.

For years, I had heard of this cartoon yet never seen it. One of the infamous "Censored 11" (almost a dozen Warner Bros. theatrical cartoons that were forever suspended from television broadcast in the 1960s), it looked as if my chances would always be slim to none. But I have recently obtained a video copy of it and several other restricted "Looney Tunes" and "Merrie Melodies" and can now judge for myself how good it is.

As it turns out, all those critics were dead right! "Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs" is undoubtedly the flat-out funniest and most frenetically paced Bob Clampett cartoon I've ever laid eyes on - and this is up there with "The Great Piggy Bank Robbery", "Kitty Kornered", "Baby Bottleneck", "The Big Snooze", "Tortoise Wins By a Hare", Draftee Daffy", "A Tale of Two Kitties", and scads of others. Sure, its caricatures are seen today as appalling, but I know the context that this cartoon was supposed to be seen in. When thought of as a morale-raising wartime cartoon with one foot steadied in the world of jazz and black entertainment, this film is hilarious. In fact, several people have noted that this film's positive portrayal of blacks in the US Army was actually one of the few instances of such in film at the time. And the animation is certainly some of the best to come out of the Clampett unit - the dance scenes between Prince Chawmin' and So White, the flailing and unrestrained movements of the characters, and the Dwarfs' final attack on "Queenie" are all virtuoso pieces of work. The music and singing are astoundingly well-done, adding a jazzy spin to this particular Merrie Melodie. And as always, Treg Brown's sound effects make the film that much better (the numerous "p-zings" and "beyowhups" and "trombone gobbles" throughout the soundtrack never get old). Altogether this is a true winning effort. Despite its reputation, this cartoon can't be overlooked when observing Clampett's efforts at the Warner studio. As Steve Schneider put it in his 1988 book "That's All Folks! The Art of Warner Bros. Animation", this is a film masterpiece in miniature. And that is not a military secret.

Now, if I can only get my hands on "Tin Pan Alley Cats" and "Russian Rhapsody"...