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Upon entering Botch’s castle-factory-oversized hovel, the heroes are given a tour of his favorite rooms. There’s his lava lamp collection (Flora: *gasp* They’re still active!), a room filled with every kind of salami from around the world, a room featuring the undersides of movie seats, a stretched cat collection… okay, now we’re in the horrors. Worse yet, the music now has meows in it. Oh, Christ… Then a room with every bat head nailed to the wall… oh, gag… I hope he doesn’t have a collection of jars containing the blackheads Scuzzbopper popped out of his back.
Now to the “piece of resistance,” and something less crude: The screening room.
To give his guests a better idea of what they’re going into, Botch puts on a slideshow of Din and the Rushers.
RALPH: Hey, looks real nice. Are they friendly?
BOTCH: Oh, they’d love to be friendly, only they rush around so much, they don’t have the time to be friendly.
RALPH: The what don’t they…?
BOTCH: The time. They—they have watches or clocks on their wrists which tell them the time they don’t have because they are always rushing, and they think they don’t have it…
RALPH: Excuse me, I’m getting… what is time?
BOTCH: Two o’clock. Four o’clock. Five o’clock.
RALPH: It, it… there’s something that tells them that they don’t have something?
BOTCH: Yeah.
RALPH: And there’s a clock.
BOTCH: It’s a clock.
RALPH: And they watch it?
BOTCH: They watch it.
RALPH: And it tells them.
BOTCH: The time.
RALPH: That they don’t have.
BOTCH: It’s simple isn’t it, get it?
RALPH: Ohh, uh… uh-uh.
Take a moment and imagine living in a land where you didn’t have any concept of time. Does that mean it’s permanent daylight in Frivoli and semi-permanent night in Murkworks? Unless you can sleep in broad daylight, you’d have to cross over the barbed wire into Murkworks for bedtime. Do the vultures drop bombs on you? Can Frivoli still deliver dreams to you, or would you have to carry a bag of dream dust and smear it on your forehead before you fall asleep? Can Frivolians and Murkians dream?
Damn, I gotta stop overthinking this, but the worldbuilding was ripe for this movie.
As they move through the slideshow, one of Botch’s personal photos makes it in there. It’s a risque cheesecake. Well, not too risque. Kind of tame. Depending on your definition.
*long-suffering sigh* Fine…
There, you perv. And if you’re wondering, yes, this also shows up in the family-friendly version.
Botch laughs it off and says that was “just an actress I used to know.” Flora pipes up and says that she’s an actress. Botch ignores her and shows them a slide of the Cosmic Clock. All the gang needs to do is take out the spring and bring it back, and “Greenie will be saved!” says Botch, without elaborating. Speaking for the crew, an all too trusting Ralph says they’ll do the job.
But Flora is despondent. Serendipity has smiled upon her, and yet she must grimace in the face of harsh reality. Botch knew an actress, and she’s an actress, and she’ll never show off her acting skills. The formula for her dreams had a solution! The planets were aligned for one moment and she couldn’t catch her shooting star… or something else poetic… I don’t know how Flora came to the conclusion that she lost her big chance, but she’s carrying on like her heart’s been ripped out and mashed under a dirty boot.
FLORA: I can act! I can do comedy! I can do tragedy! I can play two parts at once! Can’t you see I have talent? It’s pouring out of my petals! *ragged, tortured scream of a struggling actress*
(Ohh, so she is part plant.)
Botch is impressed with the histrionics. He could use someone like Flora for his movies. But she’s torn! What to do? Save her uncle or seize this once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a star?
The men tell her to stay, probably more out of a desire to get her to calm down. I have to hand it to Julie Payne. That woman can yell and carry on like her heart is literally breaking.
So with everyone in their place as the plot demands, Botch flushes Ralph and Mum down a drain and into Din. I couldn’t make that sound weirder if I tried.
It goes just about as well as you’d expect for citizens living in a realm where life can move at the pace of molasses.
RALPH: This can’t be the right place! Doesn’t look like the pictures at all!
Ralph, weren’t you paying attention to how the Rushers would “love to be friendly” except for “the time they don’t have” and “four o’clock, five o’clock,” and whatever else Botch said because I don’t want to scroll back up to copy and paste that speech?
Meanwhile, Flora is quickly settling into her new role. And if you were worried about the kind of movies Botch likes to make, you can rest easy. They’re not those kinds of movies. (I’m sure he films those privately.)
Scuzzbopper is quite happy to have her on board. He calls her a breath of fresh air and tells her they “can make beautiful misery together!”
Flora is confused. Sheez, with the bat heads nailed to walls, grungy corners, and permanent setting sunset light that floods every window, she’s confused about the misery that surrounds this establishment?
(Yeah, it’s like permanent sunset through the windows, but outside is mostly nighttime. How does that work?)
Flora is given the grand tour of the Murkworks filming division. This place makes all kinds of nightmares: Airplane crashes, being sawed in half, chased by wild animals, partial public nudity. I’m sure there’s a “final exam for that one college course you didn’t take all semester” scenario. (I’d have steady work if that were my role.)
Every actor and actress has their screams recorded. These screams are somehow reduced to “the essence of terror” and poured into bombs, ready to be smacked into unsuspecting Rushers’ heads.
Don’t ask how it makes sense. You’re watching a movie featuring a comedy duo consisting of a dog-like whatsis and a Tramp lookalike going on a mission to retrieve a spring from a clock that controls all time. This made so much more sense when I was a kid.
Back in Din, Ralph and Mum hide under a parked car, safe from the stampede of feet and spinning wheels. Ralph spots the store they’re supposed to enter. Running like hell isn’t an option—well, it is, but it would likely result in death. So after transforming into a bee, Ralph picks up Mum and they take off across the street. Their paper forms cruise across the live-action footage, and for me, it’s hard not to be impressed with the technical aspects of combining the two forms.
Once inside the clock itself, the gravity of their mission hits them.
Image credit: Ward Jenkins (who painstakingly pieced together this upward pan with several screenshots)
RALPH: This could take a while. In fact, it could take a lot of whiles.
Fortunately, the trip through the clock doesn’t take long (I guess there are only so many gangways and cogs that would keep viewers’ attention). On a raised platform, they find a lever. It looks big and important, so it must factor into getting the spring.
Mum, being a fool, stands on top of the lever. Hijinks ensue.
The duo push and pull and whip back and forth on the lever. Time is now their plaything. Movements speed up, events reverse. Collapsing buildings are intact again, cowboys fly back up onto their broncos, nuns are horrified by inflatable dolls riding in elevators.
I lack the imagination to make up anything outrageous by this point.
With an awesome crash, the lever breaks, the clock’s internal workings fracture, and time in Din comes to a complete stop. Way to break it, guys.
This does raise the question of how Din is affected by the time but Ralph and Mum, visiting Din, aren’t affected by the pause. For that matter, who thought it was a good idea to put a time control device like that in the world? I’m telling you, this movie could have been expanded upon to explain and play around with the concepts in this movie.
In the silent darkness of the ruined clock, something bright bounces along the corridor. It flashes and glows. It’s heading right for Ralph and Mum. It’s the Cosmic Spring, free from its confines and ready to see the world.
What they’d assumed was a straightforward task turns into anything but. The duo prepare to catch the spring, only to have it catch them. It takes them through a bouncy journey through the streets, frozen crowds, and even the sky. Ralph’s transformations go haywire and Mum is often hanging on by his spindly fingers. It’s a fun little bit, and it does make me smile.
Botch watches the chase on Ibor’s face-screen.
RALPH: I sure hope Mr. Botch won’t be pissed.
I just heard Garfield’s voice say “pissed.” In both the PG and family-friendly versions. I’ll never get it out of my head.
Enough piddling around! Botch summons his vulture air force.
Family-friendly version
BOTCH: The spring is on the loose! We’ve got to get it and we’ve got to get it nooowww! C’mon, guys! Then I can start time anytime I want!
PG version
BOTCH: The spring is on the loose! We’ve got to get it and we’ve got to get it nooowww! So come on, you garlic-breathing, garbage-sucking dipshits! Move out! I’m not talkin’ tomorrow! Haul ass, you mothers!
Rudy sits on his perch, doing an avian version of grumbling, probably thinking he’s through with this shit, but he’s too comfortable in his position to change careers. He glances over at three vultures who shortly take off. I wish I could glare at people and get them to do my bidding.
Ralph and Mum are nowhere near catching the spring. But the vultures are pretty close to clawing them. This doesn’t make sense to me. Why attack them? What does it matter if Ralph and Mum catch the spring after all? Sure, it’s a wasted trip for the vultures, but at least they got out and stretched their wings. Either way, Botch would get the spring.
But the vultures aren’t thinking along those lines. They corner the spring in an alley. To their surprise, the spring puts up a fight, making a pile of pillow stuffing outside the alley. I don’t know how a spring would fight, but it may have included a series of complicated cutouts that would have tested the animators’ patience. So let’s just use our imaginations.
Still free and in the mood to celebrate its victory, the spring bounds off into a pub where it enjoys a pint. Yeah, a clock spring drinking alcohol. While it’s tipsy, a vulture swoops in to carry it off. See, kids, this is why you should be aware of your surroundings and drink with a trustworthy buddy.
But I have to take a moment and process a few things. This is a world where dreams come from candy and are delivered by figmen pounding onto people’s heads. Our designated heroes are a bespectacled shapeshifter and his friend who speaks in sound effects. Vultures fly into another realm in a matter of seconds to drop off bombs containing nightmares made from concentrated creams… and the strangest thing to me right now, right this minute, is how a spring can not only drink, but get drunk.
You know what, forget what I said about not asking questions. Or did I retract that statement already? Did I even make that statement at all? I’ve lost track through all the weirdness. Let’s just be surprised by anything and everything from now on.
Ralph and Mum escape the vultures and seek shelter inside the pub. They’ve lost the spring, they have no idea what’s going on, and they’re hopeless.
Then the story gets weirder when a pair of detached wings flutters around the frozen scene.
RALPH: Who are you?
WINGS: I’m your fairy godmother. What did you expect, the Avon lady? […] You guys have screwed up in a rather royal way!
A figure appears, attached to the wings. This character is, as previously mentioned, the Fairy Godmother (voiced by Judy Kahan). She’s everybody’s fairy godmother, which probably explains why your dreams haven’t come true.
Here’s a confession: I’m not a fan of the loud, aggressive, bold to the point of bordering on rude, if not outright rude, type of older woman, probably because I’ve met too many of them in my life. You know, the type of woman who kvetches as often as she breathes, doesn’t care about the people she hurts and steps over, and has a stick so far up her ass it may as well be her spine? Lots of people like the Fairy Godmother, but, personally, I think she’s pretty useless. I’ll explain eventually.
FGM: Look, Botch is a schmuck, a bad man! He’s got Greenie, the figs, he makes all the nightmare bombs for the whole world, and he wants nightmares forever, so you guys have to stop ‘im!
She gives the guys a new mission: Fetch the spring and stop Botch. Ralph says they haven’t been very good at this whole hero thing.
FGM: Your spirit of adventure is inspiring.
She makes three magical dimes appear on the tip of her wand. If the guys get into real trouble, all they need to do is throw one in the air and a phone booth appears. How does it work? Even the FGM doesn’t know. Her lack of knowledge about how her own job works is inspiring.
Back in Botch’s estate… whoa, this is a hell of a room. Skulls attached to breasts and naked statues with censor bars over their eyes. Pleasant dreams, kids. I do give credit to the art people on the film for not covering up the male genitalia while leaving the females bare.
Botch and Ratty are snacking on the bed. The crumbs make the sheets especially itchy and unpleasant, I’m sure. Ibor rolls in to announce on his TV screen face that Attila, Brutus, and Franky the vultures are back.
Botch runs into the roost to cheer, finds the three vultures maimed and plucked.
PG version
BOTCH: But who cares! I got the spring! Ohhh, this is so bitchin’! We can make nightmares forever!
Rudy couldn’t care less. He glares at Botch with blood-red eyes. Promises of aspirin and iodine mean nothing to him. Feeling threatened by his own henchman, Botch toddles out of the roost like a wobbly teapot.
Safe from death stares and skin-tearing beaks, Botch heads to his war room. Now it’s phase two: the Big Red One. As soon as the bombs are all delivered, he’ll put the spring back in, then press the red button to detonate the nightmares.
Off the vultures go, placing bombs anywhere and everywhere.
In the outskirts of Din, FGM witnesses the nightmare air force. She complains about the stench of nightmare bombs and those “mangy creeps delivering them.” I imagine vultures do have a smell about them, but nightmares?
She correctly deduces that Botch is behind this. Well, it couldn’t be the Chef of State, sister. He can’t even tie his own shoelaces. But that would have made a cool twist. (Doing the nightmare thing, not tying his shoelaces.)
Right away, she decides that Ralph and Mum are incapable of handling this on their own. It’s time to call for backup. But not before blowing up a telephone pole that shocks her.
Sheez, woman, try not touching your wand to electrical components.
Later, FGM is making phone calls in her sky trailer. Yes, a trailer suspended from a balloon, floating in the sky. I bet yard work is a breeze.
*rimshot*
Apparently in this world of magic, fairy godparents outsource their work. That whole “helping out people in need” and “using magic to solve problems?” Nope, it’s just flipping through phonebooks and waiting on the line. Oh, cripes, I bet she goes with the lowest bidder.
Ralph and Mum look for the spring in the streets of Din. No luck and no clues. This may be a good time to call for some aid. Ralph takes a dime out of his pouch and tosses it. (Remember, he’s an all-purpose animal. He probably also has gills.)
For the younger readers among us, this is a phone booth. Now a relic of the past, a piece of nostalgia. These were beacons of hope and ports of entertainment throughout the world. They were how you called your friend for a ride or sneaked in a chat with the boyfriend your parents didn’t like. Believe it or not, there was a time when we didn’t carry phones on our persons. These phones were stationary and had little, cramped houses built around them, and you had to give it money in order to make a call—unless you were calling an operator, then you dialed 0. Then there were long-distance phone services like 10-10-321, prepaid cards, and you couldn’t be on the line for long because time was restricted… holy crap, payphones were complicated. I don’t miss them one bit anymore.
By the way, it’s funny how Ralph knows how to use a phone right away, but he doesn’t understand the concept of time.
But he’s not getting help right away. Like so many of us who lived in the pre-cellphone era, he hears the noise any of us hated to hear: the busy tone (in the form of quacks). Way to be of help, FGM.
Meanwhile, FGM gets off the phone with a service to get “basic rescue.” Whoever she called provides fast service, because here’s the basic rescue already.
And he’s basic as all hell. It’s Rod Rescuman (voiced also by James Cranna). He’s not a full-fledged superhero and still on a learner’s permit, “but that’s almost as good.” Just as good as the “notarized and legal-sized” blank resume he shows as proof. Well, even brain surgeons need to perform that first surgery…
FGM gives Rod a test. A basic test for basic rescue. She plays a damsel in distress on fire. Actual fire on her desk, consuming her. Rod sucks in the flames, takes them into his own lungs, fails to die from it, and so passes the test.
Until he breathes the flames back out. (Relax, she just got charred, it’s not blackface.)
ROD: Do I get the job or should we move on to the shark-infested waters test?
Getting further away from their target, Ralph and Mum are now wandering around on a beach. A phone booth suddenly drops in. It’s FGM to tell them that she’s sending help their way. Personally, I’d be offended by this offer, especially since I was told that I was pretty much the only hope for saving the world.
But Ralph is ever thankful for the assistance. Even as it comes flying in like a Spandex-ed bat out of hell and crashes into the sand.
After Rod introduces himself, Ralph gives the skinny: Bad guy about to ruin the world, nightmares all over the place, a runaway spring, and a lady in danger.
The superhero equation fires off in Rod’s teeny brain. Female? Danger? Need rescue? Rod. Superhero. Rewards. Possibly of sensual nature. Like a cat spilling dishware onto the floor, everything is off the table. Sure, he’ll fly Ralph and Mum to wherever they need to be, but after that, he’s off to rescue the damsel and bruise his lips.
Using powerful binoculars, Rod is able to determine the spring’s last location. Which, as we’ve seen, was the Finnigan’s Wake pub, but for whatever reason, the binoculars pinpoint an office building. Pretty shoddy technology, if you ask me.
As he promised, Rod flies the heroes to the office building. Instead of the spring, they find a literal nightmare waiting to happen. Bombs everywhere! Tucked into pockets, balanced on heads, poured into cups. I’m pretty sure one of the vultures got clever and shoved one under a toupee.
RALPH: Boy, if Botch made this many bombs, no telling what he’s done with Flora!
ROD: “Done with Flora”? I’m supposed to be first!
RALPH: Listen, are you here to help us or what?
ROD: I’m here to what, n’ where is she?
Rod, the entitled piece of shit, is operating under the impression that Flora possesses no kind of agency and she’s obligated to indulge in whatever rewards Rod believes he’s already earned. On top of this part not aging well, Rod is just about the unfunniest character in the entire film. To me, his existence feels like an afterthought, like the writers were throwing around ideas and said, “You know what would be funny? A superhero-type guy! That’s so out of place in a fairy tale, it’ll be hilarious!” He feels like a creator’s pet, somebody the writers really love but most viewers usually ending up hating or can do without.
But even if I didn’t look at Rod through a modern lens, there’s something about the Spandex-covered walking erection that inspires a simmering rage inside me.
He can’t be bothered with helping to find the spring. So when Ralph answers him about Flora’s location, the horndog flies off. I hope Flora is a poisonous type of plant person.
As is his habit, Mum has found something to climb. He tap dances on a typewriter, paying no heed to the bomb precariously balanced on the platen. I hope for everyone’s sake you don’t find a doomsday button, Mum.
As expected, the bomb falls off. In three flashes, the busted bomb releases an inky cloud. It curls around chair legs, sweeps past people’s feet, and rises like smoke over the desks. Within seconds, it engulfs the entire office.
This effect deserves a mention. John Korty had worked with India ink and loved the way it moved through clear water. In the commentary, he suggests that if you want to figure something out, “look at it upside down.” He used aquariums with ink forming clouds in the water, “layers and layers of photo transparencies in the aquarium,” and the ink would be poured in from the top.
All this before today’s high-tech software, and it’s still more impressive.
Ralph and Mum find themselves hounded by mobile office supplies intent on harming them. Pencil sharpeners shoot tacks, scissors snap at them, a paper guillotine nearly cuts them in half, and a ceiling fan gives chase. It’s intense, and some of Ralph and Mum’s terrified expressions don’t help.
After the danger has passed, Ralph climbs out of a card file that had swallowed him during the chase. Boggled and relieved, he reflects on how they just witnessed a nightmare. Considering that was from just one bomb, Din is in major trouble.
RALPH: Oh, we gotta get rid of all these nightmares. And find the spring. And stop Botch. We have to help Greenie. Gotta rescue Flora… *sigh* What a bummer.
Suddenly, they’re back in the frosted hills of Frivoli. FGM has taken them back home. Instead of giving them a chance to recoup and come up with a better plan, she fires them.
FGM: *to Ralph* You worry too much, you go by the book, you’ve got no style! *to Mum* Yeah and you, you’re just the opposite. So very, very out to lunch, irresponsible… i-i-in short, a real nothing!
RALPH: Hey, he is not! And… neither am I! Well, we tried our best.
FGM: That’s your best? *ugly, taunting laugh* You’re fired.
Oh, ho ho ho. You’ve got some nerve, bitch.
If you’re just spilling over with magic, why don’t you give this hero thing a try? Or would you just find a way to outsource that task?
Just how good is that wand of yours? If it can make magical dimes appear, why can’t it make a solution for this mess appear? You made a telephone pole explode with it. Why not find the circuit breaker in Botch’s factory and do some “magic” with that?
For that matter, why can’t you make your wings stay on a part of your body that isn’t your ass? Why don’t you throw a couple of dimes in the air to get some help for yourself? Scratch that, move up to quarters, because you’ll be making several calls for a long time.
I don’t understand why so many people like this character. Because she runs her mouth? Anyone can run their mouth like they’ve got the wettest, foulest verbal diarrhea. Because she’s brazen? There’s a difference between brazen and rude, and she wouldn’t know it if Sesame Street politely and slowly explained it to her.
Fairy godparents throughout the entirety of storytelling history have turned pumpkins into carriages, stopped time, shapeshifted, built castles, formed countries, and performed countless other wonderments.
What were FGM’s accomplishments here? She made dimes appear for a magical phone booth she can’t comprehend and approved a rookie hero’s notarized blank resume. That was her absolute best.
As a result, she indirectly veered Ralph and Mum from their main task, sent a sex offender-in-training after Flora, and freed up Botch from any distractions to execute his plan.
You’re the real nothing, FGM.
Family-friendly version
You’re rude, incompetent, and a disgrace to the concept of fairy godparents. You should seek career fulfillment elsewhere, such as a salaried manager in a retail, where an unskilled, damaged cretin of your caliber will be richly rewarded several times over.
So she disappears, giving the snidest series of goodbyes. But her cruel comments don’t faze Ralph one bit.
RALPH: We’re not hopeless! We can do it! Even if we’re outnumbered! We’re heroes, y’know!
FGM (VO): I’ll believe it when I see iiiiit.
RALPH: Well, you just watch, you’ll see it!
You tell that real nothing, Ralph! You tell her in her invisible, fat, stupid fairy face!
Part One Part Two Part Three
