HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY: THE REN & STIMPY STORY – Review

As the headlines get darker and darker with almost every day, many are finding comfort in looking back on the TV shows and characters they enjoyed as kids (there are several “over-the-air’ stations that provide just that, 24-7). One of the most celebrated of those shows is the focus of this new feature documentary, which begins streaming just a few days after the big announcement of a revival (or reboot, or…etc.). It’s deserving of the doc treatment because it was a landmark, becoming a real turning point for the medium. Historians often point to “touchstones” in cinema often making note of the first “talkie”, the first color film, and so on. The same can be done with theatrical animation via a timeline: 1928 first sound cartoon short, 1937 first feature-length cartoon, and into the rise of Pixar. And the same can be done for it’s “lowly cousin”, TV animation. This doc’s focus was neatly squeezed in, between the return of prime-time animation with “The Simpsons” in 1989 and the “dark deco” drama of “Batman: The Animated Series” in 1992. I recall flipping over to a basic-cable mainstay channel on that Sunday morning 29 years and three days ago. Like Bart S’s papa Matt Groening I was curious about the duo seen in the promotional ad art (“What are those? Aliens? Nightmare monsters?”). I popped in a blank VHS tape and gazed in wonder. And laughed a lot. Perhaps you’ll have a similar flashback as you watch HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY: THE REN & STIMPY STORY.

After a brief clip-filled overview of the series, the filmmakers begin a twisted “origin” story. Bursting through the “talking heads” is the show’s creator and main director John Kricfalusi. In the early 1980’s he had traveled from the Canadian tundra to golden LA to pursue his love of animation (he says that as a child he thought animated cartoons were proof of “real magic”). But TV cartoons were dismal rehashes of old “properties” or merely half-hour commercials for the “hot” new toys. He worked up sample art (“pitch boards”) to show the four broadcast networks, but he was quickly dismissed (one meet earned him a “security escort” out of the building). Then he saw an ad in the “trade papers”. Upstart basic cable channel Nickelodeon wanted original “creator-driven” cartoon shows. John K dashed over for a meeting with the exec in charge of the project, Vanessa Coffey. She wasn’t impressed with a pitch for something called “Your Gang”, but her eyes kept drifting back to the drawing of the two pets; Ren, a bug-eyed Asthma Hound Chihuahua and Stimpy, a plump tail-less Manx cat. Could something be done with them? John K ran with it, gathering together some old art pals along with animator contacts who were frustrated with the sorry state of “TV toons”. The resulting effort, “The Ren & Stimpy Show” was unlike anything on the tube. The characters had strong personalities (short-fused, screeching Ren was based on Peter Lorre and voiced by John K himself, while the sweet-natured affable Stimpy was voice actor Billy West’s spot-on impression of Larry Fine of the Three Stooges, but pitched a bit higher) which popped off the screen. The same for the exquisitely detailed art with the characters truly “acting”, their bodies contorting to convey emotion. This was no “illustrated radio” (Looney Tunes vet Chuck Jones’ derisive term for limited TV cartoons). Soon the show and its creators were the darling of the media with lots of “ink” and TV profiles. Then the “unthinkable”, with the show smashing the “ratings ceiling” to get an unheard of 4.0 (a first for a cable show). But the original “six ep” order had been rerun countless times. New product was needed. How about a second season order of twenty? John K had concerns, as he plunged ahead. But his perfectionism and personality quirks would soon torpedo the network’s plans. Almost as quickly as the show skyrocketed into the heavens, everything came crashing back to Earth. But his eventual “sacking” was not the darkest day of John K’s future career.

This superb look back at a highpoint in TV cartoons has been expertly assembled by directors Ron Cicero and Kimo Easterwood. There are fascinating montages of archival news footage, home video (with warbly audio and video), and still sparkling artwork, some not seen by the public, from the show’s production ( I second the interviewee who said that Bill Wray’s backgrounds are deserving of a “coffee table” book). But it’s the “spoken word” history from those involved that gives the film its strong structure. Yes, there are a trio of ‘celeb” fans (Jack Black, Iliza Shlesinger, and a very mellow Bobby Lee), but the most compelling commentator is the creator (or co-creator as some in the film believe) John Kricfaluci, who I was truly surprised to see in new interviews, considering his recent headlines (we’ll get to the very dark last act). The camera slowly glides through his home, pausing on the many bookshelves filled to the brim with mostly retro cartoon toys and plush dolls. We see photos of his young years in Canada looking much like any baby boomer lad with clip-on bowties and tiny felt fedoras. He regales us with tales of his rage-filled father who helped form John’s sense of humor and inspired the furious Ren (no stories of Mom though). We can understand those who thought his company was almost a cult formed around the charismatic Mr. K. This may have been fueled by the media who latched on to him as the “toon savior” and splashed his face on a myriad of magazines. And he was happy to oblige as we view countless publicity stills of the animator posing for pics as though he was the new “boy band’ heartthrob, shirt open and giving a full “soulful pout”. But the success led to his downfall as he became a “micro-manager”, obsessing over each detail, screaming at staff for not being up to his standards, and delaying the shows. His “pranks” on the studio suits (hiding an offensive image beneath a post-it note on the storyboard) chipped away at his rebel “bad boy” charm. His comment to Nick execs that “I can no longer be responsible for budgets and deadlines” was like waving a red cape in the bull’s face in one of his favorite classic shorts. He was soon out of the picture save for an ill-conceived new “adult party” version of his duo that aired for three weeks in 2003 on another Viacom cable channel Spike TV. But he would be back…

…almost 15 years later. The Buzz Feed website ran a story on John K’s “hiring ” of young women who had been approached via their fan letters. Robin Byrd is interviewed in the doc (no silhouette or altered sound) and tells of her interest in the show and its creator when she was 13. They quickly began a correspondence with him visiting her parents and bringing her to LA to be his live-in aide at 14 (John says 16). Another woman, Katie Rice, also came forward (we only see her in a video from John’s website), but the statute of limitations prevented an arrest. And Mr. K does answer questions on the scandals, seeming most annoyed and somewhat embarrassed. He tries to elicit sympathy from the interviewers (“You should see the videotape she sent…so sophisticated”), but silence is their response. The “air” around him changed considerably. An earlier sequence had home video footage of John K and his staff’s appearance at an LA comic shop in 1992, with lines stretching several blocks (and getting the adulation usually given “rock gods”). Cut to now, as we see John K at a comics show or an animation expo, sitting at a table, all by himself sketching for no one. Well, he does have someone, a very youthful-looking woman, behind the table managing the “money box”. The big announcement of a “reboot” of R&S on Comedy Central made sure to state that John K would not be involved nor would he profit from this new show. This speaks to the current cries of “cancel culture”. Should the duo join the scrap heap along with another TV toon (that one from Cosby’s childhood)? Social media was on fire with those that thought this revival was completely tone-deaf. In the film, one artist laments that these characters are now “painted in s*#t”. Ms. Byrd actually has a great response. She understands if you can’t separate them from JK, but she’s sad to think that some folks have lost a childhood love. If you can erase him, she finished, perhaps you can still enjoy the show for all the other great talent that crafted it.

I will admit to chuckling at many of the early snippets. At one point they have side by side comparisons with their “acting inspiration” the late great Kirk Douglas. There are a few omissions in this history that bewildered me. Aside from a former director, there’s no mention of 1987’s “Mighty Mouse: The New Adventures” which was John K’s big showcase and proof that the networks could still make funny cartoons, as they allowed the artists to gleefully go “off-model”. And no mention of John’s follow-up misfire the next year with ABC’s revival of his hero Bob Clampett’s “Beany and Cecil”. Also nothing of his music videos for the likes of Tenacious D, Bjork, Weird Al, and the Rolling Stones. And it would have been great to illustrate his Spumco studio split with some footage of John’s strained reunion with Billy West On Howard Stern’s E! show from 1995. Still, this is a most compelling portrait of a troubled creative soul, reminding me of Terry Zwigoff’s masterful look at the brothers CRUMB in 1995, and also somehow of the political profile WEINER in 2016. Though Robert Crumb’s journey is hopeful, the others are troubled tales giving over to dark impulses It’s a shame because, like Anthony W, John K is full of passion, something lacking in most TV work (and for AW, in politics). In its unflinching look at a talent who can’t “get out of his own way” (or as one subject said “Nobody could f*#k it up like John”), HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY: THE REN & STIMPY STORY is one of the year’s best films.

4 Out of 4

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY: THE REN & STIMPY STORY is available as a Digital Download through most app and platforms including iTunes, Amazon, and Google Play