Lost? Here's Part One.
Bart, having overheard the call to the physics laboratory, catches up with Mr. Zabladowski and tries to warn him that he’s going to be disintegrated at dawn. The plumber, of course, does not believe a word, still drunk on pickle juice.
Bart, having overheard the call to the physics laboratory, catches up with Mr. Zabladowski and tries to warn him that he’s going to be disintegrated at dawn. The plumber, of course, does not believe a word, still drunk on pickle juice.
“You listen to a kid it gives you nothing but trouble.”
And so, as it has always been: the adorable child must sing a sad song about how kids are treated unfairly.
I have a lot to say about this song, but I won't say too much of it here. I'm certain you know how I feel about kids at this point. You can probably guess how I feel about kids who sing songs describing those mean, awful grown-ups who are clearly picking on kids because they're smaller, and not because of a misguided yet well-intentioned effort to teach them how to function in a civilized society.
I would not mind so much if this song was about authoritarians, since that is an issue we all face. When that word is used synonymously with 'adults', I have a problem. Quite frankly, I know more children who are authoritarians than adults; but I can only assume the opposite was true in 1953, so for now I'l lay my rant to rest.
Mr. Zabladowski, having overheard Bart’s treatise against learning responsibility, apologizes for his earlier skepticism. Bart tries to convince him to start removing sinks so that the County Sink Inspector won’t approve the Terwilliker Institute's grand opening. Bart offers Mr. Z thirty dollars, as opposed to the twenty that Dr. T is currently paying him. The plumber jokingly takes the offer.
I have a lot to say about this song, but I won't say too much of it here. I'm certain you know how I feel about kids at this point. You can probably guess how I feel about kids who sing songs describing those mean, awful grown-ups who are clearly picking on kids because they're smaller, and not because of a misguided yet well-intentioned effort to teach them how to function in a civilized society.
I would not mind so much if this song was about authoritarians, since that is an issue we all face. When that word is used synonymously with 'adults', I have a problem. Quite frankly, I know more children who are authoritarians than adults; but I can only assume the opposite was true in 1953, so for now I'l lay my rant to rest.
Mr. Zabladowski, having overheard Bart’s treatise against learning responsibility, apologizes for his earlier skepticism. Bart tries to convince him to start removing sinks so that the County Sink Inspector won’t approve the Terwilliker Institute's grand opening. Bart offers Mr. Z thirty dollars, as opposed to the twenty that Dr. T is currently paying him. The plumber jokingly takes the offer.
And I quote: "Oh sure...mmeehh."
Bart runs off on his way to the money vault in Dr. T’s office, and for no clear reason gets lost.
This scene is a strange montage of Dr. Seuss doors and arrows pointing to nowhere. I’m not sure why it’s here. It feels excessively cut together from the leftover bits, and is especially odd since Bart knows where he’s going at this point.
It also features this…thing…on a door. Since you ask, no, it doesn't serve any particular purpose.
I grow ever more curious as to Columbia Pictures' definition of 'grotesquery'.
Bart sneaks into Dr. T’s office and tries to open the money vault.
Surprise! It’s locked. So he heads for Dr. T’s bedroom, where he finds the man himself fast asleep.
Bart does a quick cast about for the key, and realizes…
…it’s hung on the metronome on Dr. T’s headboard. Luckily, the headboard is a Dr. Seuss original, and therefore easy for a mischievous child to climb upon like an endless ladder.
When Bart stops the metronome to grab the key, Dr. T begins to wake up. Bart sets it running again, and Dr. T falls back asleep. Hmm…what to do? Our clever hero pulls out his pocketknife and uses it to tap out the rhythm on the side of the metronome, allowing him to steal the key.
I love this sequence. Dr. T's tossing and turning is goddamn adorable. When Hans Conried isn’t scowling and glaring and arching his eyebrows, he gets real cute real fast. In the span of a few minutes he goes from petulant wild-eyed megalomaniac to the most precious widdle bean I ever did saw.
I love this sequence. Dr. T's tossing and turning is goddamn adorable. When Hans Conried isn’t scowling and glaring and arching his eyebrows, he gets real cute real fast. In the span of a few minutes he goes from petulant wild-eyed megalomaniac to the most precious widdle bean I ever did saw.
Maybe I do have maternal instincts somewhere, buried deep within this heartless husk of a human.
Key in hand, Bart raids the money vault for a whopping thirty dollars, and within, he finds Mr. Zabladowski’s execution order behind a pane of glass.
He breaks the glass and steals the order, setting off an alarm which entirely defeats the purpose of sneaking about. Oh well. At least the plumber will believe him now! Bart heads back the way he came, only to find:
Guards! There’s no escape! Or…is there?
The firepole that goes to...
...the dungeon. As you do.
Bart finds himself in the deepest dungeon, where all the non-piano players are sent. He comes very literally face to face with Stroogo, the jailer.
It’s important to note here that Stroogo wears a hearing aid.
It’s also important to note, in our modern times, that it is not called such until the very end of the movie. I can only assume that everyone in 1953 would know what it was supposed to be right away, as it turns out to be one of the most important elements of the plot later. To my modern eyes, it looked like an earbud, which left me utterly baffled on my first viewing. Just one of those things lost in translation over time. Finally, a confusing plot point that I can’t conclusively blame on fuckup editing!
Once Stroogo discovers Bart is actually a piano player, he threatens to take him back to Dr. T. Bart kicks him one in the shin and escapes further into the dungeon.
Here begins the song titled ‘Dungeon Shlim Shlam’. No, really.
There was a video here. It's gone now.
There’s a lot to unpack, so, brace yourself.
You probably have a lot of questions about what’s happening to your body right now. Don’t worry, that’s normal. I’m here to answer all of them.
Q: Who are all these men?
A: They are musicians who do not play the piano. They’ve been imprisoned in Dr. Terwilliker’s dungeon.
Q: What are they wearing, exactly?
A: Formalwear, that has become tattered and torn from their years of imprisonment. As an orchestra would wear - see? Because they’re musicians?
Q: If that’s shredded formalwear, why are they all wearing brand-new Keds?
A: Uh, well…look, these guys probably got paid peanuts. Asking them to dance in dress shoes might have been asking too much.
Q: Fine, I understand the practicalities of being a working dancer. So why are they painted green?
A: They’re all moldy and mildewy from their time in the dungeon. Get it? Even though that would only happen after death? They’re zombies, maybe?
Q: That makes no sense.
A: And that’s not a question.
Q: Boxing gloves are not an instrument.
A: Also not a question!
Q: Is mayonnaise an instrument?
A: No, Patrick, mayonnaise is not an instrument. Horseradish is not an instrument either.
Q: Why is that man choking that deer-man?
A: To ring the bells on his antlers. Duh.
Q: Is this a sex thing? Because most of these instruments look like sex things.
A: No! Most of these look like Dr. Seuss things. A common mistake.
Q: That party favour thing is clearly a melted dildo.
A: NOT A QUESTION.
Q: Why is that one guy’s accordion green while the rest are blue?
A:
Q: Are those oven mitts?
A: Uh…yes?
Q: Are those violins meant to be the stocks?
A: They are! Good eye.
Q: Then those double basses should be guillotines.
A: They really should.
Q: Why do they film several uncomfortable seconds of everyone packing up and leaving?
A: Why does anyone do anything?
I have to be blunt about this: the Shlim Shlam is fucking bizarre, and I don’t believe that’s the fault of editing. It’s not the concept that fails, just the execution. Okay, well, maybe a few concepts fail too. But generally, it’s the execution’s fault.
There is WAY too much happening in any given frame. There’s so much on screen at once and it’s all so strange that it took me half a dozen viewings to appreciate that there is in fact some artistry behind it, and not just random insanity.
The Shlim Shlam was one of two ballet sequences written for this movie, and the only one that made it past the slaughter. The other was called the Butterfly Ballet, and it featured the Human Lamp and the Net Men whom we so briefly saw in the beginning.
I can’t speak for the Butterfly Ballet, but I can say with confidence that it’s tricky to call the Shlim Shlam a true ‘ballet’. I know what ballet dancing looks like and it don’t look like this, I tell you what. The dancing that does happen is eerily modern, and the rest is ridiculous pantomime. There’s a little bit of ballet in there somewhere, if you look closely. For the most part the style of dance is just ‘baffling’.
I think it could have worked if every instrument had been based off an instrument of torture. There are stocks violins, and that’s about it. Instead of oven mitts, use manacles. Instead of a marimba, use an iron maiden. Have the harp be a series of nooses.
Ah, but then children wouldn’t be allowed to watch this, would they? Therein lies the compromise. Either go full Seuss, or full dungeon. You can’t have it both ways. They tried, and it ended up looking like green men prancing around in the post-apocalyptic remains of someone’s garage.
I want to like it. Oh gods, how I want to like it. There are just too many things wrong with it for me to really get excited.
But I think that’s enough about…whatever the hell this is. There’s a story happening here somewhere. Click here for Part Nine.
