If Bugs Bunny states, in a television commercial, that a product is worth having, I believe him. Does this surprise you? You say that he is a trickster rabbit with a Brooklyn accent, streetwise and unpredictable and shouldn't be relied upon for value judgments. Well, hold on there! Would you rather trust live actors who spout whatever stuff is written for them, people who get paid handsomely to extoll a product this week and another the next ?

Duck Amuck by Chuck Jones 1953. © 1953 Warner Bros.

Bugs, or Daffy, Donald or Goofy are more honest. For one thing, they are always who they are, thanks to the foresight of their creators. We recognize and admire cartoon characters because they are so definitely in character. Bugs Bunny is Bugs Bunny and Bart Simpson is Bart Simpson. In the movie Braveheart, Mel Gibson plays the historical character William Wallace and in other films he plays fictitious personalities. Mel Gibson works hard to make us believe that he is all of those people. In actuality he is none of them. Bugs Bunny is always Bugs Bunny. A cartoon character's personality is all that he has. He has no blood, no bone, no home, no spouse, no child and no bank account. When the commercial is finished, he doesn't dash off to a posh Beverly Hills retreat. Contrary to the image of ToonTown, portrayed in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, where cartoon characters supposedly reside in their offhours, these celluloid beings exist only for the screen. They have only one thing to give-- themselves.

You say, "See, that proves that they're not real!" Not so. Collectors today are falling all over themselves paying handsome prices for animation cels. To gallerygoers, cels from animation films are the real thing. When they head home clutching the shiny likenesses of Mickey, Pluto or Woody, they know that they have obtained the actual elements of a classic cartoon. You can't take Clint Eastwood or Mel Gibson home. I don't suggest that you try it, I don't think Meryl Streep or Arnold Shwarzenegger would tolerate being hung on the wall of your den.

A Matter of Trust
Cartoon characters are the only personalities you can trust. Compare Bugs Bunny, with all his artful ways, to politicians (Nixon: "I am not a crook"), athletes ( O.J. Simpson), corporations ("cigarettes are not addictive"), or even your next door neighbor ("I'll return your lawnmower as soon as I'm finished using it"). Characters exist solely to entertain us, not to take anything from us, nor to deceive us. They give us joy and laughter, and they present a mirror for us to see ourselves. Granted, all characters are not capable of this.

Some lack the solid attributes of Bugs, Donald or Popeye, each of whom sprang from the persistance and perspiration of cartoonists and animators seeking a means of expressing human foibles. Each of the popular cartoon personalities that we take seriously--and we do--have been imbued with solid, recognizable traits. I don't trust Roger Rabbit, or the Smurfs, or Strawberry Shortcake, or any character that was conceived by a cold, logical committee. I'm sure you could compile your own list of cartoon beings that lack the attributes of strength, certainty and believabillity. The characters that I know to be true are those that derive from human experience. I trust in characters that grew over the years, not those that are created fullblown with a ready group of sidekicks and groaning shelves of licensed toys and wash cloths.