It used to be that Saturday matinees offered dessert before dinner, a nifty Hollywood cartoon or three before the feature film. Daffy Duck would fume, but gracefully, through some dethpickable humiliation. Droopy dog would corral a wolf felon by employing the emotional minimalism of a Buster Keaton on Quaaludes. Maybe there'd be an early Disney cartoon for more refined preteen appetites. And then, on with the main attraction! The feature was often a broken-down B-minus monster movie, and pretty much an aesthetic anticlimax after the seven-minute masterpieces that opened the show. At the time, of course, nobody figured to hang cartoons...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
