The Best of The Little Rascals in 3D Blu-ray Review
Spanky and His Gang.
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, December 2, 2012
Hal Roach's legendary
Our Gang series, which was renamed
The Little Rascals for television in a rather
arcane set of rights issues involving Roach and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, debuted in 1922 in the silent film era with the short
called
One Terrible Day. An astounding 22 years later, the final film in the series,
Dancing Romeo,
appeared in the spring of 1944. Over the course of those two decades-plus, 220 shorts were produced, offering an
adoring public the then unusual chance to see both Caucasian and African American children appearing together as more
or less equals. Many of the
Our Gang cast became very famous, at least for a time, including such standouts as
Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer and Ernie "Sunshine Sammy" Morrison. Notable stars like Jackie Cooper passed through the ranks of
the
Gang at one time or another, but in the unintended irony department, when replacement cast members had to
be found and huge national searches were undertaken, icons like Shirley Temple were passed over, forced to seek their
fame and fortune elsewhere. If the rights issues that led to
Our Gang being redubbed
The Little Rascals
were rather labyrinthine, they pale in comparison to what has happened during the home video era, where a number of
different labels have brought out various versions of the shorts on VHS, DVD and, now, Blu-ray. Legend Films gained its
foothold in the home video market with its colorized versions of various films, including several
Our Gang comedies,
and it has now revisited five of those colorized shorts by sprucing them up with the
other technological treat the
label is well known for, 3D post-conversion.
The five shorts included on this compilation are:
Fly My Kite (1931). This kind of bizarre combination of
pathos and hilarity might remind some of those
old
theatrical presentations where the hapless young woman is about to lose her homestead to the mustache twirling evil
landlord, only in this instance the woman is an elderly lady called Grandma (Margaret Mann), and the villain is actually
her
scheming son-in-law (Jim Mason). This piece is often a riot of slapstick invention, for the son-in-law is trying to literally
get
his hands on some lucrative bonds that Grandma isn't aware are worth a fortune, while the kids repeatedly use every
arsenal at their disposal to try to keep him from gaining access to them. Often laugh out loud funny, but rather
strangely
emotionally compelling nonetheless, this is one of the best remembered
Our Gang shorts, and it marked the
final
appearance of Allen "Farina" Hoskins.
A Lad an' a Lamp (1932). While the fact that Hal Roach exploited the use of both white and black children
actors side by side, it also can't be denied that were often racial stereotypes at play in some of these shorts, despite
the adamant rejection of this thesis by some of these very same African American child actors (as adults).
A Lad an'
a Lamp is a perfect example. The kids are all intrigued by the story of Aladdin and his lamp and as the film opens
they are all madly rubbing various containers hoping for their fondest wish. Some of these are rather mundane, but
little black boy Matthew "Stymie" Beard is hoping that his father gets out of jail soon. As if that weren't bad enough,
another subplot has one of the kids wishing that Stymie's little brother Cotton (Bobbie Beard) would be turned into a
monkey, something that kind of happens through a case of mistaken identity. It's all played for laughs, of course, but
some modern day sensibilities may find this kind of thing well over the line of what's now considered politically correct.
The Kid From Borneo (1933). This is another problematic entry in the series which sees the kids trying to meet
up with the mysterious Uncle George, who runs a carnival that has come to town. Instead they meet up with a half
witted native called The Wild Man from Borneo, whom the children mistake for Uncle George. That of course leads to all
sorts of calamity, especially after they bring the wild man home to interact with the rest of George's family. This short is
undeniably funny at times, but it also posits a savage black who seems to be mentally handicapped. As such, it was
deemed unsuitable for the emerging politically correct consciousness of the 1970s and was withdrawn from syndication
at that time.
Hi' Neighbor (1934). This is a sweet little entry in the series that focuses on jealousy between the
Gang kids and a newcomer to the neighborhood. This also features some hilarious moments with Spanky
nonplussed by his friends' attempts to compete with their rich new neighbor's toy fire engine by building one of their
own. This short marked a sea change in the history of
Our Gang, as Roach's go-to director, Robert F. McGowan,
was seriously burnt out and left the series to pursue feature work at Paramount (this wouldn't preclude him from
working with
Our Gang alumni, as he did with Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer in 1936's
Too Many Parents, Frances
Farmer's feature film debut). There's no real change in style or approach despite this being under the direction of Gus
Meins, who would go on to helm many of the subsequent
Our Gang shorts.
Hide and Shriek (1938). If
Hi' Neighbor marked the departure of Robert F. McGowan,
Hide and
Shriek was producer-creator Hal Roach's swan song with his long running series. This is one of the briskest, most
satisfying shorts in the Roach
Gang canon, positing Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer as a deerstalker hatted detective who
is out to track down what has become of Darla's missing candy. Buckwheat and Porky meanwhile have blundered into
a haunted house at an amusement park and are reeling from the scares found inside the ghoulish mansion. There's
nothing unexpected or especially innovative about this final Roach entry, but it shows the absolute craftsmanship Roach
brought to this series, with Alfalfa especially winning in his own kind of "Sherlock Jr." role. The
Our Gang shorts
would continue under the aegis of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer for another six or so years, but their quality rapidly declined
after Roach's exit, never again regaining the simple but effective luster that had been their hallmark for so many years.
The Best of The Little Rascals in 3D Blu-ray, Video Quality
The Best of The Little Rascals in 3D is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Legend Films imprint 3D Classics with both an
MVC (3D) and AVC (2D) encoded 1080p transfer in 1.34:1. Legend tends to do nicely understated work with their
colorizing, as evidenced by several previous releases like
March of the Wooden Soldiers and
The Ray Harryhausen Double Feature. The label tends to
work with public domain material, but it also tends to feature transfers culled from decent elements, or at least elements
that have undergone significant restoration. The five shorts here are all reasonably free of age related wear and tear, and
the basic image is okay looking, within reasonable expectations. The colorization is perhaps a bit more pallid than is typical
even of Legend releases, which have never really slathered on the color to the point of making a previous black and white
film look like a Paintshop nightmare.
While the same care seems to have been granted these
Little Rascals shorts in terms of their 3D post-conversion as
was shown in Legend's commendable work on
The Three Stooges in 3D, for whatever reason, the results are somewhat less vivid here, with
markedly less depth and dimensionality. The best sequences here tend to be those that take place out of doors, where
depth of field increases exponentially and foreground objects are more clearly differentiated from those in the background.
It's perhaps instructive to note that taking the 3D glasses off while watching these shorts in 3D mode reveals very little
stereoscopic tinkering to the image, which may account for some of the lack of dimensionality.
