When a frog swallows his food, his eyes sink deep into his head. As a frog owner myself, I’m routinely annoyed when animators don’t take the time to get frogs right. His gift for observation extended to his amphibian star. When he couldn’t find the proper ragtime tune for his singing frog, he wrote his own from scratch with the help of Maltese, resulting in “The Michigan Rag.” The song sounds so authentic that to this day people wonder which songs in the film were pre-existing and which were created specifically for the film ( this site explains it all). Jones’ advantage is that he has something most comedy animation directors, then or now, don’t have, which is an obsession for detail.

Jones doesn’t rely on standard poses or stock expressions he is a cartoonist of the highest order, a master of his universe, and he effortlessly creates custom poses and expressions for each and every scene, in his inimitable style that can only be described as Jonesian. The presence of Jones, who created more layout drawings per film than almost any other Golden Age theatrical short director, can be felt in every frame of the film. Lather, rinse, repeat, and eventually retire.īut it is director Jones himself who reminds us why he is considered one of animation’s greats. They simply churned it out, as they did countless others, over and over again. These guys didn’t labor over this film for years, and they certainly didn’t have time to reflect or be precious about it. Frog himself, Bill Roberts.Īnd consider this: Jones’s crew made a new short every three weeks or so. And let’s not forget the musical stylings of Milt Franklyn, the sound effects of Treg Brown, and certainly not the voice of Michigan J.

The credit is due to a few handfuls of individuals: Michael Maltese’s story structure reveals just enough but not all of the mystery Abe Levitow, Richard Thompson, Ken Harris, and Ben Washam bring the characters to life through perfectly timed and funny animation (it’s funny because it’s perfectly timed) the layouts of Bob Gribbroek and background paintings of Phil DeGuard drop us into the middle of a believable mid-20th century American metropolis. As the skies above us and the ground below us, this cartoon is a perfectly formed natural wonder that cannot be improved upon. Every member of Jones’ team is operating at the peak of their craft, a level achieved through decades of toil and refinement, yet their collaboration is so seamless and absolute that it does not seem possible for the cartoon to have been created by mere mortals. Technically, I get it, but there’s something else going on that is impenetrable. Let me admit: as many times as I’ve watched this film, I still cannot understand how it was made.

Ragtime frog gif