Friday, October 22, 2010

Scooby-Doo/All-Star Laff-a-Lympics


 In season 2 of the double feature program, Scooby adventures were paired with Olympic-type parodies showcasing tons of other cartoon favorites; look for a separate post on that soon.

The episodes in this season are not so memorable. I loved the "Phantom Racer" episode, because the phantom totally tries to brick Shaggy and Scooby into a wall. In retrospect, that's pretty sadistic of me. I vaguely remember the plots of a few others, including a hang-gliding/pterodactyl issue, and something about a friend turning out to be a vampire or something. I'd be pretty interested in rewatching these and finding out if I'm tuning them out because I hadn't seen them more than once or twice, or because they were that terrible and unmemorable.

Scooby-Doo/Dynomutt Hour — This Exists?

After Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, execs switched the format to an hour-long double feature, containing both a Scooby mystery and another adventure. Season 1's second half starred someone called Dynomutt. I'm confused.

Don't get me wrong — some of my favorite capers took place within this version of the show. In fact, one of my favorite episodes of all time is "The Ghost of the Bad Humor Man," which finds the gang stuck in an ice-cream factory (so many factories in their world! Dilly Dally Dolly factory, the soda factory in the Okee Fenokee swamp, this one — yowza). I love that the ghosts come in three flavors. I'll actually cover that in greater detail when I post about the lasting food impressions I have from the shows, but for now, I'll just say this one's up there with Mama Cass's candy factory adventures. Is it any wonder I turned out to be a foodie? And a junk-food junkie?

So, I remember the iconic episodes — great! But who the heck is Dynomutt? Well, according to Wikipedia, him:


He was a robotic superhero of some sort, owned by a wealthy business who also had a secret identity. Ok, then. Sounds like a Batman ripoff. I hope I'm able to find these Scooby episodes without having to sit through Dynomutt. It's just weird to me that I can specifically remember the ice-cream wrappers and talking dolls and the weird glow of the phantom football player's helmet, but I can't even recall a general overview of this half of the show at all.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!: Scooby's Origins

Before I start, I want to thank Scooby-Doo, We Love You for compiling such a great list of all of the episodes, movies, and so on featuring Scooby. There you'll find short, concise summaries of what happens in each episode. It's not exactly what I'm going for here: I'd like to really delve in and analyze how Scooby made me feel then, what's changed in how I feel now, and what I come away with in the end. 


Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! was my first foray into the antics of Mysteries, Inc. Just look at the opening credits below and try not to hear the distinctive bat sounds that opened the show:






This show was classic Scooby at its finest. We're introduced to the gang in the episode "What a Night for a Fright," which has the teens running amok in a museum after-hours when they find a mysterious suit of armor on their way home from the movies. From there, the show took the gang to tons of other locations, from castles to underwater to a ghost town and more.

Cartoon Network has been showing some of these — frustratingly, the same cycle of episodes, it seems — during the day. I'm going to start DVRing them again and rewatching from a more critical perspective. Get excited!

The Early Days: Part 2 — Scooby Snackin'

My favorite part of watching Scooby-Doo as a child was eating my very own Scooby Snacks every time the characters did. Now, since I've grown up, I've begun to question exactly what was in those snacks, and what gave Shag and Scooby the perpetual munchies, but that's another post altogether.

Much like spinach for Pop-Eye, a ring for the Green Lantern, and Acme traps for Wiley Coyote, Scooby Snacks were a source of power for the Scooby gang. They gave the kids the strength to seek that baddie, climb into that creaking attic, split up again. Whatever it was, it worked for them, and I wanted some of my own. It's hard work for a kid to sit still for a half-hour. For this kid in particular, I needed all the help I could get. You know what's a great idea in this situation? Adding sugar!

Against all logic, my mom obliged. Now, my Snacks weren't officially Warner Brothers approved, though I know some versions eventually did make it on the market (also, branded dog treats...in confusingly similar packaging. Ruh-roh):


Those were little round cookies, much more like the "real" ones on TV. Instead, mine were chocolate nonpareils, like these:

I don't know what gave my mom the idea to dub these Scooby Snacks. But the name has stuck. I have, in fact, tried to order these as Scooby Snacks at the movies. 

Whatever the reasoning, it's been one of those special little things that's stayed with me through the years. Thanks, Mom!


The Early Days: Part 1

I'm not so sure it was the best idea for my parents to let me watch as much Scooby-Doo as I did growing up. For one thing, I am a scaredy-cat. Not as obvious about it as Shag and Scoob, but I cannot handle being afraid. The second bathroom at my parents' house is in the basement — the dark, scary, unfinished part of the basement. All the way at the back. Specifically, in the furnace room. With one of those single lightbulbs attached to a single, thin string. Terrifying stuff, even for me now. As a kid? I would turn on every single light I passed, run to the bathroom, leave the door open, and do my business as fast as humanly possible.

Now, add watching slightly creepy shows to this, and you end up with one neurotic child...albeit, a child with a fantastic imagination. I guess I have Scooby to thank for my current career as a children's book writer. I was actually lucky enough to work on two Scooby books here at work. Maybe I'll post those someday.

Welcome!

It's October, and I'm surrounded by cheesy decorations, pop-up Halloween stores, and immodest interpretations in costume form of some of my favorite childhood characters. Slutty Big Bird? Half-naked Ninja Turtles? Is nothing sacred?

Luckily, it's pretty hard to screw up the costumes for my all-time favorite cartoon characters, Scooby-Doo and his friends Shaggy, Fred, Daphne, and Velma. It got me thinking: Is it equally difficult to screw up the Scooby franchise and my fond memories of Scoob and the gang? I decided to find out by rewatching some of my favorites — the old stuff — and watching for the first time some of the new Scooby material. Can these retain the spark and fun of the originals? Do the old ones hold up? Will I lose my mind and drive my husband crazy as I load up our DVR with shows he will never watch?

As Fred might say, I think we have a mystery on our hands!