A Rankin/Bass Christmas

With Christmas two days away it's time for a holiday treat! We'll examine the much beloved Rankin/Bass specials. Their shows run constantly around the holiday season; in our house, Rudolph and the Frosty shorts are must-see TV.  Most of them are charming, a few great.

This article looks at four R/B specials and a fifth related short. Obviously this isn't a comprehensive list. Perhaps we can revisit The Little Drummer Boy and Jack Frost for next year.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer remains, along with A Charlie Brown Christmas, the gold standard for holiday specials. Exquisitely animated and effortlessly charming, it makes even the most cynical 50 year old feel like a kid.

Rudolph (Billie Mae Richards) is a young reindeer with a glowing red nose. Rudolph tries out for the reindeer games, an audition for Santa Claus's (Stan Francis) sleigh team, but is ridiculed once his nose is revealed. He falls for Clarice (Janis Orenstein), a young doe who's more sympathetic. Outcast Rudolph runs away with Hermey (Paul Soles), a elf who'd rather be a dentist than make toys. They pass through the Island of Misfit toys, befriend prospector Yukon Cornelius (Larry D. Mann) and fight off the Abominable Snowman. Rudolph returns home, just as a snowstorm threatens Santa's delivery plans.

Rudolph is near-perfect family entertainment. Unlike other R/B works, it has a solid plot to complement its technical charms, allowing for movement and settings (the snowy North Pole, barren tundra. dreamlike Island of Misfit Toys). There's a bushel of amusing characters, from the perky Hermy to the grizzled Yukon and his cranky 'Bomble. Rudolph is an immensely likeable protagonist, all naivety and gumption. His scenes with sweetheart Clarice are too cute for words, though his little nose lighting up is sufficient to win us over. The show's be-yourself message is simple, direct and endearing.

Rudolph's Animagic remains the highlight. This stop motion technique uses wooden/plastic dolls with felt trimming, giving the film an enjoyably original (though oft-parodied) look. Rudolph and his pals look like Christmas ornaments to come life, invested with spirit and charm. Johnny Marks's excellent soundtrack, sung by Burl Ives, spawned several Christmas standards, including Have a Holly Jolly Christmas and Silver and Gold. For Christmas fun and holiday cheer Rudolph can't be topped.
Frosty the Snowman (1969)

Our next short sees Rankin/Bass turning to traditional cel animation. Frosty the Snowman is thinner than Rudolph but retains the same spirit of straightforward fun.

Schoolgirl Karen (June Foray) constructs Frosty the Snowman (Jackie Vernon) who comes to life when adorned with Professor Hinkle's (Billy De Wolfe) magic hat. Hinkle wants the hat back, and chases Karen and Frosty to the North Pole. Santa Claus (Paul Frees) inevitably intervenes, saving the day and shaming Professor Hinkle.

Frosty the Snowman is less impressive than Rudolph. The plot is weak even for a 22 minute short (with a silly resolution that renders the story pointless) and the hand-drawn animation not especially striking. But Frosty redeems with its loveable characters. Frosty makes a fun protagonist, mixing dopey naivety with affection for Karen, matched by Professor Hinkle's frantic villainy ("Busy, busy, busy!"). Jimmy Durante's idiosyncratic narration adds a unique touch, as when he proclaims Frosty "the best belly-whopper in the world!" It's a simple short of simple charms, fine holiday entertainment.


Santa Claus is Comin' to Town (1970)

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town is less successful. It's a mostly forgettable show, with its '60s mentality providing perverse amusement. The last thing a holiday special should attempt is being "hip," a lesson Rankin/Bass fail to appreciate.

S.D. Kluger (Fred Astaire) narrates Santa Claus's origin story. He started life as Kris Kringle (Mickey Rooney), a friendly orphan who wishes to be a toymaker. Unfortunately, Kris faces the evil White Wizard (Keenan Wynn) and the more mundane threats of Burgermeister Meisterburger (Paul Frees), a fun-hating village official. Kris enlists the help of some woodland friends along with Miss Jessica (Robie Lester), a teacher who falls for Kris. Together they set up a workshop at the North Pole, and the rest is history.

Viewed with 40 years' distance, Santa Claus plays as painfully obvious counterculture pandering. The show recasts Santa as an anti-establishment rebel, a Robin Hood-type criminal providing illicit gifts to children everywhere. This extends to Mrs. Claus, who transforms from stuffy school marm to long-haired hippie, and the groovy Peter Max-style animation accompanying several musical numbers. The idea, presumably, being that the kids wanted a "with-it" cartoon between Mobe rallies and The Brady Bunch.

Santa Claus has its charms. The animation is predictably top-notch, while Paul Frees and Keenan Wynn provide memorable villain turns. But the story proves uneventful, the leads boring and the songs uncharacteristically flat. This makes it harder to overlook its time capsule qualities. If Rudolph and Frosty are timeless, Santa is painfully dated.

The Year Without a Santa Claus (1974)

This oddity might be best-remembered for its association with Batman and Robin: at one point in Joel Schumacher's Bat-astrophe, Mr. Freeze forces his henchmen to sing along with the Snow Miser. This dubious recognition aside, Year Without a Santa Claus is an enjoyable mixed bag: its bloated story lacks the simple charm of earlier shorts, but makes up for it with inventive characters.

Santa Claus (Mickey Rooney again) becomes ill, forcing Mrs. Claus (Shirley Booth) to find a present-delivering altnerative or else cancel Christmas. Elves Jingle (Bob McFadden) and Jangle (Bradley Bolke) run away to gauge Earthly reaction, shocked to find kids don't believe in Santa. Mrs. Claus, the elves and Earth kid Iggy (Colin Duffy) get caught in needlessly complicated negotiations, trying to convince a) the town Mayor to let Santa's reindeer go; b) the feuding elementals Snow Miser (Dick Shawn) and Heat Miser (George S. Irving) to allow for snow in the Mayor's town; c) Mother Nature (Rhoda Mann) to knock some sense into the lot of them. Does that make sense?

The Year Without a Santa Claus makes a silly story very complex. Santa ends up a bit player with his wife and dopey sidekicks doing all the work. The movie feels like an animated Cold War allegory, with Mrs. Claus performing shuttle diplomacy between the Misers, earthly officials and Mother Nature Henry Kissinger-style. (Does this make Santa Richard Nixon?) If Frosty's plot was too simple, Year becomes convoluted, bogging down in negotiations and relying on set pieces to keep things fresh.

The Animagic provides Year's highpoint. The Misers are wonderfully designed as elemental demons, dripping icicles and fiery hair, with snappy personalities to match. The songs are uneven: while Mrs. Claus's songs are forgettable, the Miser cues provide a snappy theme with standards Blue Christmas and Here Comes Santa Claus picking up some slack. This makes Year fun for all its rough spots.

Frosty Returns (1995)

Our last item isn't official Rankin/Bass, rather an unloved (and unlovable) stepchild. In 1995 CBS roped Peanuts animator Bill Melendez into directing Frosty Returns, a joyless sequel that drags a classic character through the slush.

The small town of Beansboro prepares for its winter festival, but tycoon Mr. Twitchell (Brian Doyle-Murray) plans on ruining the fun with Summer Wheeze. This spray-on snow evaporator angers young Holly (Elisabeth Moss) and her nerdy friend Charles (Michael Patrick Carter). Holly enlists the help of Frosty (John Goodman), no longer endearingly naive but a punchable wiseacre. Together girl and snowman set out to foil the evil Twitchell, singing horribly along the way.

Frosty Returns is irredeemably awful. In this special, holiday cheer proves secondary to environmental preaching and cornball humor. Even with voices by John Goodman, Brian Doyle-Murray and Elisabeth Moss the characters are charmless; Goodman's smartass Frosty begs for a flamethrower to his snow-nads. Returns gets one laugh, when Twitchell drops a squawking environmentalist through a trapdoor. The five seconds of thought put into that gag clearly exhausted the crew's creativity.

Then there's the music. Never mind Mark Mothersbaugh's weird score, which sounds like recycled Rugrats cues. "Let There Be Snow" must be the worst song ever. It's obnoxiously atonal, relying on drawn out stanzas and painfully labored rhymes to deliver a treacly message about "the world dressed in white." And it's sung three times in this 20 minute short, surely the musical equivalent of waterboarding. This auditory excretion elevates Frosty Returns from regrettable cash-in to agonizing atrocity.

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Hopefully you've enjoyed this sardonic sojourn into Christmas cartoons. Stay tuned for more holiday cheer!