Missed the first and second parts? Click here and here.
Speaking of unpleasant characters, it’s about time we checked back in with the Weinstein wannabe. Rod spots Flora being menaced by a giant gorilla. Sensing that a kiss is in the near future, he sweeps right in and ruins what was actually a movie set. Any idiot could see the lights and cameras, but Rod, blinded by hormones, only sees the end result of his minimal efforts.
He socks the gorilla a good one, and accidentally socks Flora an even better one. “That bully hit you!” he says, every word soaked through with obliviousness. With an unconscious Flora in his arms, Rod ‘Rection-man takes to the air.
Gads, if I saw that smile on a man locked in a room with me, I’d claw through the walls to escape.
Far away from the set, Botch is in his awful, poisonous garden. As he admires his gross plants, Ibor rolls in to show him footage of Rod carrying off Flora. Listen closely, you can hear heroic music playing in the background.
Minor question: Does the world just have music blaring from unseen speakers? Do the Rushers of Din have jumpy, jazzy, or bumbling music to match their activities?
Flora wakes up to find herself on a chaise lounge under suspended weights. That’s about as comforting as waking up to a pendulum slicing towards you, or a meathead ogling you up close. Oh, no, it’s the athletic version of a casting couch! I was kidding about the Weinstein reference!
Flora has the appropriate response, which is scrambling away and yelling at the top of her lungs. Eventually, she calms down and asks about her new surroundings. Rod explains that everything in his blimp home serves dual purposes as furniture and exercise equipment.
If that’s the case, what purpose does the scoreboard serve—you know what, my imagination kicked in, and I’d rather chase away that particular thought.
ROD: See, my body has become a weapon, a high-tension wire!
FLORA: Big deal.
ROD: See this rippling torso, these latissimus dorsi? *corners Flora against the wall* I even have muscular lips!
Kick him in the nuts, Flora! I don’t care if it’s a cheap joke, you’ve got an opening!
The “stupid sex maniac” (yes, in both versions) gives slow chase as Flora flees from his smoochy-faced advances. He tells her that she has to kiss him, “it’s the rule!” Could he be any more blatant? If he were on trial, he’d whine to a court that she was “asking for it in that tutu.”
Flora charges out the door into what she thinks is safety…
… and plummets to what could be her doom.
ROD: Uh oh, she’s falling! I should do… something! Ah-ha! I’ll rescue her again! That’s two kisses! I’ll drop her again, that’s three kisses! A whole weekend, that’s what it looks like to me!
But first, he has to launder and iron his cape. That will give Flora enough time to become a smear on the ground.
Meanwhile, Ralph and Mum have crossed into the land of Murkworks. After scaling the mountain, they reach a road with a toll booth…
… out of which pops out a mechanical serpent with a buzz saw tongue. I guess it’s exact change or death.
But our heroine will make short work of the serpent! Flora smashes onto the monster, sending chunks of pavement flying. The resulting pothole can only be an improvement in Botch’s beady eyes.
There’s little time to enjoy the reunion. Ralph gives Flora a quick summary of Botch’s true doings. So now the heroes and Rod proceed to quietly storm the fortress.
Meanwhile, Scuzzbopper has finished pounding out his novel. Ever the artist starving for immediate validation, he shows off the tower of papers to Botch.
Ever the uncaring boss, Botch carries the tower of papers over to a window and tosses them out.
(Look at that, all those individual pieces fluttering and falling, some on top of each other, and at different speeds. All done by hand. That is some dedication to the Lumage process.)
Scuzz trudges off, despondent, as Botch bellows that he needs “nightmare scripts! Nightmaaaaaaaares!”
BOTCH: … asshole.
Yes, both versions. Family-friendly meant something totally different back in those days, huh?
Having spent a short time as a working actress, Flora somehow knows the way through Murkworks. I guess she was given the ultimate grand tour. As she leads the team through the grungy boiler room, they come upon a tragic sight…
FLORA: Oh, poor Scuzzie!
SCUZZ: Hi, Flora.
FLORA: Agh!
SCUZZ: It’s been a bad day.
Sheez, Scuzz, do you literally drown your sorrows by drowning yourself in a tub of booze?
Rod helps (kinda) by pulling Scuzz through the noose. Cripes, the man would help with a splinter by mashing it with his fist. He’d knock out a loose tooth by kicking it. He’d inhale the flames from a burning victim and exhale them back onto that person.
Seizing the opportunity for revenge, Scuzz leads the team past booby traps around the facilities. But with two major tasks at hand, the team needs to split up: Flora and Rod to rescue Greenie, and Ralph, Mum, and Scuzzbopper to retrieve the spring and defeat Botch. If I were part of the team, I’d’ve suggested Scuzz go with Rod. The only time Rod put his hands on Scuzz was to yank him through a noose, but even then, Scuzz is safer with Rod than Flora is.
*sigh* But Rod would’ve forced himself into this pairing anyway, so good luck, Flora.
Flora and Rod find the dungeon. Rod knocks down the floor—and Greensleeves, too, the poor guy. I sure hope lawsuits are a thing in this land. Would be nice if background checks and psych evals happened in whatever agency took on Rod.
The sight of her uncle surprises Flora. Apparently she hasn’t seen Greensleeves in years.
FLORA: But you’re short and bent.
GREENIE: I’m short and bent.
FLORA: What happened to my Uncle Greenie, the handsome, dashing hero?
GREENIE: He got short and bent. But he’s glad to see you nonetheless!
Flora and Greensleeves share familial greetings and Rod—stupid, amoeba-brained Rod—looks on jealously.
ROD: I should get old and bent!
Yeah, you should do one of those things.
It’s about time for another conflict. Ibor, who somehow rolled into the dungeon without anyone hearing his treads, seizes Flora. Greensleeves tries using his powers—that are just now evident—but they’re useless against the gorilla. They do zap Rod, though, so they’re not completely useless.
As the dungeon door comes down, trapping Greenie inside the dungeon again, it’s up to Rod and Flora to deal with Ibor. Rod, of course, is of no real help. He gives slow chase (apparently running after bad guys is advanced training), holding up a wagging finger as he admonishes the henchman. “You have my sweetie and I want her back!”
In one of my favorite moments, Ibor runs him over, taking him out of the chase.
Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.
This is a job for a true hero! When Ibor throws her over his shoulder, Flora finds the control panel on his back. She yanks out wires, and in short order, the gorilla monstrosity malfunctions.
Spinning around and rolling backwards, Ibor comes to a sparking, gear-grinding end before exploding. The fact that this was all done with airbrushed opaque paints on glass, and the destruction caused by Flora, makes this animation feat so satisfying.
Damsel in distress no more. Flora should become a superhero. I’d rather have her rescue me than that walking hard-on stuffed into muscles. I mean, I’d offer a handshake instead of a kiss, but you know, I’d definitely feel safe after being rescued.
Greensleeves somehow escapes the dungeon and finds the barrel holding his figmen. I guess a sixth sense led him to the little guys, but I have no theory about how he got the door open. It doesn’t matter now. He uncorks the barrel and releases his darlings. His chuckles do sound genuine, and it’s hard not to be happy when the figmen bounce all around like crazy.
Perched high in the roost with his remaining henchman, Botch tries shmoozing Rudy. All the other vultures are gone—dead, injured, out flying, forming a union, I dunno—and Rudy is just not having it right now. He slides away from his boss, every tiny motion seething with disgust. But Botch, the odious schemer, sidles up on his corpulent bottom, speaking in low, tryingly dulcet tones. It’s almost pathetic.
BOTCH: *sniiiiff* Ooohhh, Rudy… Rudy, we’ve been together a long time, and now I’m gonna ask you one thing, Rudy… just one… last thing. The spring. Take it back. You’re the only one… I can trust… Rudy. Rudy, Rudy. If I could do it, I would do it, but I can’t.
Rudy obliges, carrying the glowing spring back to Din.
I should note that it takes him longer than the usual few seconds to get to Din this time around. I know it’s so Ralph and the team have plenty of time to tie up loose ends, but this irks my inner nitpicker. So does the fact that Botch is sitting comfortably up in the roost. He’s not as fat as the Chef of State, but still, how’d he climb up those supports?
Scuzz takes Ralph and Mum through the grand hallway. All would go well if Mum avoids that rock. Just a plain rock sitting on the carpet, not at all out of place, where a toe can get stubbed on it.
It’s a trigger for a whole array of death traps: a buzz saw, a giant foot a la Monty Python, swords, gunfire, and flames. They dash into the safety of the hallway beyond.
SCUZZ: Watch out. Now it gets dangerous.
Criminy, vacuuming that carpet must be an adventure for Scuzzbopper every time.
Our heroes survived! Now they’re in Botch’s war room.
RALPH: Um, hold it, Botch.
Dang, what aggression! I’d give up right then and there.
Botch sics Ratatooie on the guys. Odd, considering none of them are garbage. (Maybe it’d work on Rod.)
Scuzzbopper throws a bowling ball to distract. Ratatooie, apparently having a thing for bowling balls, chases it. He clutches it as it bounces out of a window and he falls to his death.
I didn’t make any of that up. Scuzz magicks a bowling ball out of nothing. The little garbage-vore pulls a Rod Rescueman on it. The heavy-ass ball rolls down the stairs then bounces off the floor and out of the window with perfect precision. Ratatooie catches it and gets his jollies as he becomes a stain on the ground below.
I’d analyze this, but I’m kind of upset. Ratatooie’s only crime was being creepy and repugnant. What was it about movies back then killing off or maiming villain’s pets? *sigh* Rest in peace, you little armored trash compactor. May your heaven be filled with mountains of garbage and shiny bowling ball harems.
During that frenzy, Ralph and Mum chase Botch into a secret room. Scuzz won’t be joining them for the final fight since a hidden room panel locks him out. He knows where all the booby traps are, why wouldn’t he know how to move that panel? Couldn’t he produce a key or a lockpick? Why doesn’t he magick up another bowling ball and throw it at the panel?
But this is really Ralph and Mum’s fight, after all. And they have a bad start as they’re immediately assaulted by missiles in the dark.
From his mission control panel, Botch surveys the attempted carnage.
BOTCH: Are you boys all right? Okay, hold still this time!
Ralph is done with this. Finding control over his powers, he assumes several forms as he ascends the stairs to Botch’s control room. He avoids all the traps in the all-purpose arsenal Botch has prepared. Foul though he is, Botch really is a genius with schemes. He was able to predict which forms Ralph would use and how to kill them, though the gun for the hummingbird form is a bit of overkill.
Mum, however, has little luck avoiding the traps.
In insect form, Ralph enters the control room. Tinier and quicker than before, he deftly maneuvers through the air to avoid the final all-purpose weapon: a simple fly swatter.
Botch devolves into a swinging rage. He can barely pay attention to the monitors tracking Rudy’s flight. So focused is he on destroying the airborne foe that he doesn’t notice Ralph leading him right into failure…
With a mighty swing of the fly swatter, Botch smacks at Ralph—and gets the jolly, candy-like button.
Seeing Ralph tumble off the button is a little horrifying, especially since, if you’re not watching carefully, it looks like Botch gets him. The first time I saw this as a kid, I thought Ralph was dead for sure. I didn’t need another whimsical 80s movie to scar me for life.
The Big Red One is lit up. Botch’s conquest for eternal nightmares has been botched.
The grand failure plays out on all the monitors. Rudy is just inches away from the Cosmic Clock when a bomb goes off in front of him. The vultures are downed by their own bombs. Inky black clouds envelop the city. With none of the Rushers awake to absorb the nightmares, the useless clouds shrink back. Din is saved!
Botch is beyond furious. He shakes Ralph in his tiny, helpless insect form. Ralph looks seconds away from being crushed, Botch’s tiny teeth are on full display, and the scene is bathed in a wretched, pink-on-red glow. It’s brimming with loathing, fury, and hate. For some viewers, this is a bigger nightmare than what Botch himself could have ever imagined.
But what’s this?
A bomb! And it rolls down the ramp right for Botch.
BOTCH: No! Never! It’s too much to bear! I want my blankie! I want my mama!
As the bomb meets Botch, he throws himself backwards out a window, screaming into oblivion.
The bomb wriggles and jumps onto its feet. With a little effort, Mum squeezes his hat off and pops it into the air. Celebratory cigar in hand, he seems very pleased with himself. As he should be. Well, as both he and Ralph should be.
RALPH: We did it! We are heroes!
But what about our villain?
BOTCH: Hey, thanks! Nice catch, fellas! Hoo, heh, heh, heh, you’re holding on a little tight, huh?… Put me down someplace safe, okay? Why’re you looking at me like that? It’s just a scratch! It’s not even mine, y’know, I borrowed it, okay?…
Everything is right with the world, and so it’s time to say goodbye to our friends. Flora thanks Ralph and Mum for their help in saving Greensleeves and the figs. As a reward, her “favorite heroes” each receive a platonic kiss.
Ugh, yeah, Rod also gets a kiss. On the nose. Personally, I’d give a meaningful shoulder squeeze, but I guess Flora’s feeling charitable.
ROD: Whoa! Now I can get my operator’s license, too!
Wait, wait, wait… the hell you said? A single kiss satisfies “operator’s license” requirements?! What was all that slobbering over the idea of an “entire weekend” then?! I wish nothing but luck and the most potent pepper spray for the damsel who meets you in a dark alley.
As our two main heroes leave Murkworks, I’m left wondering about what happens to the place now. Does Scuzzbopper run it now, becoming writer, producer, and director of nightmares? Does Flora help run the production? Do they create a joint partnership with Frivoli? Do nightmares cease altogether, or would that create an imbalance? I’m telling you, there are so many possibilities with worldbuilding in this place. I demand a fanmade mini-series made in honor of this movie.
Hey, look, it’s Fairy Goduseless. Here to take the credit for something you had virtually no hand in?
Nah, she’s actually had a change of heart. She congratulates Ralph and Mum on a job well done, sounding pretty happy for once.
Remembering the last dime, Ralph tries to give it back.
FGM: Isn’t that honest? Keep it, you’ll need it.
RALPH: We will?
FGM: Trust me, I’m your fairy godmother.
*sigh* Sequel bait, didn’t take.
The spring hops back into the clock, perhaps glad to be done with this adventure folly. Time starts up, but this time it’s different. It’s not as fast. In fact, it’s an easy pace. The Rushers aren’t rushed. They continue their lives, never knowing how close they came to living in a literal nightmare.
Life seems to be more enjoyable now. That much is evident as we watch an older gentleman stroll through an amusement park. He stops to buy a balloon from a vendor, because, hey, balloons are fun. And in a little moment that makes my heart swell every time I see it…
… the balloon glows.
The meaning is unclear. Does the adventurous spirit of the spring live among the Rushers now? Is it a reminder that time is what you make it and you can live at whatever pace you want? Is it a hint that we all need to take the time to slow down and live our lives instead of rushing toward goals? Is it asking us to take a chance and bounce into the world, welcoming whatever dangers and joy await us?
Whatever it means, it’s still a nice touch to end this story.
And for another nice touch, and something I wish more animated movies did, the credits have photos of the voice actors with the characters they voiced. (Except for Paul Frees, for some reason, and Mum for obvious reasons.)
In fact, just about everyone who worked on this movie is in the credits collage, along with some cutouts and tools used to create the movie. Knowing the football fields of credits we get nowadays, can you imagine the scrolling photo albums we’d be sitting through? Well, for those of us who choose to sit through credits. Every image would be like an Easter egg. Try to match the name to the face!
But it’s still a sight to behold. I couldn’t imagine a more thoughtful tribute to the people who put so much heart into a movie that undoubtedly meant so much to them.
So ends one of the more unique and odd movies of the 1980s. A small gem that I enjoy describing to others, and a memory test of sorts for people of my generation. Most people I’ve met barely remember this movie or John Korty’s Sesame Street shorts. It seems that the art of Lumage had nestled quietly and happily in the back of their minds, never demanding attention and living as a whisper of a memory.
It’s a shame. The art form would certainly test one’s patience, but seeing the end result—dyed paper moving and expressing itself, coming to life on a palette emulating stained glass—would have to be one of the biggest feelings of accomplishment an artist could experience.
If we’re being honest, it’s the technical ingenuity, animation style, and two different audio versions that rescue this film from 1980s animation oblivion. Plotwise… eh…
Now, as an adult, I can see why this movie was largely forgotten for decades. Ask anyone with a vague memory about it and they’ll remark on the cutout figures or colors. The plot is usually the last thing they recall, and for good reason. It’s the typical “underdogs get a chance at being heroes, screw it up, then emerge victorious” plot. When you get down to it, it’s pretty old hat.
But the characters’ personalities help in this lacking. Good and bad are clearly divided yet they’re dappled with grays of rudeness, lasciviousness, and arrogance. The characters are flat paper, but they’re three-dimensional where it counts.
The dialogue also helps. Boy, oh, boy does it ever help lift this movie from the bog of forgotten movies. Especially the PG version. Don’t get me wrong, both versions have their merits. Korty’s vision is more innocent and comforting to children and adults’ inner children. But there’s something about the vulgar PG version that adds to the surreality of the whole film, like something this whimsical and often bright shouldn’t have swearing in it. It’s discordant yet fitting.
I’m not here to proselytize the sanctity of directors’ visions. I enjoy them both, and they both deserve to be watched. Personally, I believe that’s the only real way to appreciate the overall creation.
That’s what Twice Upon A Time is now for me. A piece of my childhood grew up with this recent watching, but it’s not ruined. The brimming wonder when I first saw this movie is still alive. My artistic mind searches for surprises in the scenes; it studies how the light brought the paper figures to life. The innocent memories live alongside the rediscovery of this film, creating a complete adoration for everything that went into it and everything that resulted, and there’s still so much to discover and love. Yes, I include FGM and Rod Rescueman in that love, because, in their own unique ways, they do help complete the movie.
I loved this movie as a kid, and I love it even more as a grown-up. It’s certainly a movie worth watching more than twice.
