A collection of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit shorts from 2007, after Disney regained the rights to the character. © Disney. All rights reserved.

Confidence (1933)
Oswald the Lucky Rabbit had passed from Walt Disney's possession several years before this short was made, and in this cartoon the bouncy bunny was in the hands of Walter Lantz and Bill Nolan. Tex Avery, prior to his Warner Bros. days, was one of the animators. The short opens in a happy barnyard populated by typical rubber-hose beasties (including a few Mickey Mouse clones) who cavort with makeshift musical instruments during a break in work. Farmer Oswald oversees his henhouse with pride, but his happiness is short-lived. Down the road a toxic dump is giving birth to a sinister cloud. It morphs into a hooded, black-robed ghoul labeled "DEPRESSION" (a very literal cartoon, this!). The growling monster flies to poor Oswald's farm and infects all the animals with lethargy and despair. Oswald panics, screaming for a doctor.

Cut to scenes of angry mobs brawling in front of a failed bank, followed by a depiction of frantic investors watching their stocks fall. A worried citizen stashes his meager savings under a mattress. By now the desperate rabbit has reached the office of "Dr. Pill," begging for aid. The wise doc points to a picture of President Roosevelt and proclaims, "There's your doctor!" Oswald swiftly turns a trash can into a helicopter and flies to Washington, somersaulting his way into the White House (Homeland Security was more lax in those days).

Oswald asks FDR what would cure a depression, and the singing Chief Executive sings "Confidence! Smile! Grin! Laugh right out loud!" Luckily for Oswald, Franklin Delano has a big wooden barrel of "confidence" in the Oval Office, as well as a handy syringe. The flight back, courtesy of a statue's toupee (no, really) is much happier than the first journey. Oswald gambols through the streets, injecting bankers with confidence; soon investors are streaming into reopened banks. Oswald next revives his moribund farm, which emerges singin' and dancin' with more verve than ever.

This simplistic cartoon is no classic; some of the animation is reused, and much of the drawing is surprisingly poor. The depiction of Roosevelt is well below the level of caricature that Warner or Disney could have achieved at the time, and we never see the personification of the Depression actually defeated. Still, this is an exuberant and winning cartoon short made with lots of, well, confidence. Oswald himself did not survive the Great Depression (his last cartoon was made in 1938), but you can't say he didn't get his licks in first.

The wolf-at-the-door metaphor many were feeling in 1933 was perfectly realized in Disney's Three Little Pigs. © Disney. All rights reserved.

Three Little Pigs (1933, Walt Disney Studio)
If What a Life dealt with a situational view of the Depression and Confidence gave us a more literal reading, Three Little Pigs was a psychological masterpiece. This 1933 Silly Symphony, lauded for being a landmark in character animation, never directly addresses the Depression; the approach is symbolic and emotional, and this allows for much broader interpretation of the material. The foolish pigs are children of the Gilded Age, heirs to the roaring bull market of the 1920s, treating life as one long party. Suddenly, the proverbial wolf is at the door, and all their straw and stick investments are blown away in an unstoppable catastrophe. Like the poorest citizen standing in line as his bank closed its doors or the wealthiest speculator diving from the fourteenth floor, the two pigs are at the mercy of implacable, destructive forces.

There is only one place to hide. Practical Pig has prepared for a future that includes wolves. He is the untapped strength of a nation that may be down but certainly not out. Unlike his brothers, he is clad in work clothes, his demeanor reproachful, and his attitude businesslike. There is no easy way to defeat the wolf, and Practical Pig is not expecting divine intervention, either. He is self-reliant, serious and not afraid to roll up his sleeves to protect his assets. Practical Pig is a role model for hard times, a psychological guide to surviving a Depression. It would be ridiculous to picture him playing an accordion in hopes of a handout, and no injection of "confidence" could instill more of it in him than he already has. Practical is undoubtedly the central figure of this cartoon short, and this is by design. His triumph is America's.

If the short contained nothing but this allegory, it would still have been one of the greatest of its time. The brilliant color, innovative character animation, and tight pacing were unforgettable enough, but Three Little Pigs had yet another treat in store, one more swift kick in the Depression's rear. Frank Churchill and Pinto Colvig teamed up to write a playful ditty that ended up as the definitive anthem of defiance against the Depression. Whenever America's radios played "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" people rejoiced, sang along and felt some of the old fighting spirit crawl back into their dreary lives.

Three Little Pigs was ultimately a transformative cartoon; it changed the national mood and provided a rallying point wherever it was screened "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" became a hit and inspired Americans to believe in a New Deal and a road back to prosperity. Like the wolf, the Depression wasn't beaten on the first try; people would be singing about the Big Bad Wolf for a few years to come, but at least they were singing again, and that makes Three Little Pigs the greatest of the Depression-era cartoons.

It is inevitable that today's adult-oriented, prime-time cartoons will address the ruined legacy of Bush and company; reflections of the devastated economy and its human and financial cost will make their sarcastic appearances soon enough. What we will probably not see, however, is the quaint naiveté of the Depression-era cartoons, the cheerful exhortations that Confidence attempted to provide. Then again, that was 1932 and this is 2009. Conceptions of popular culture have undergone radical transformations since Flip the Frog cavorted in theaters. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for stark economic realities. As the foreclosures mount, the stock market declines and the unemployment lines grow, here's hoping that animation can once again help raise the spirits of a nation out of depression -- or Depression, as the case may be.

Martin "Dr. Toon" Goodman is a longtime student and fan of animation. He lives in Anderson, Indiana.