We've already touched on the misfortunes of that wave of early 90s prime time cartoons which wanted to run with the grown-up crowd but tripped up and perished straight out of the gate, living on now as a mere footnote to animation buffs and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it sight gag in a Halloween episode of The Simpsons to everyone else. Fish Police, Capitol Critters and my somewhat ironic favourite of the triad, Family Dog - they all had it coming, believe me. But what of that wave of prime time animations more unfortunate still, to the extent that they never made it past the pilot stage and, as such, don't even have the luxury of being remembered as a flop Simpsons competitor? If you're familiar with the likes of The Jackie Bison Show, Hound Town and Hollywood Dog, then it seems a safe bet that you're not only a pretty hardcore animation buff but that you share my particular interest in the obscurities and castaways of the medium. When, having kicked off their career as a supporting skit on The Tracey Ullman Show for a few years, The Simpsons were given their own series on Fox in 1989, its success surprised many and led to some interesting knee-jerk reactions from other TV networks eager to replicate a bit of that lucrative cartoon magic for themselves. Even before Fish Police and Capitol Critters had made it to air in 1992, the path to concocting a successful Simpsons rival was already littered with failures and dead-ends, a handful of cartoon pilots having been cranked out at the dawn of the new decade and immediately discarded. Among these was a second attempt by Fox at catching that all-elusive ink-and-paint lightning in a bottle, this time with the set-up for a would-be series that was only partially animated.
Hollywood Dog was based on a comic strip by R. P. Overmyer and aired on Fox on 25th July 1990, but was ultimately not picked up for a series. It centred around the exploits of a sleazy entertainment promoter who just happened to be a two-dimensional cartoon dog living in a world populated by flesh-and-blood humans, and his partnership with a Hollywood newcomer, aspiring musician Bodine Frank (Tim Ryan). Although it arrived during that initial wave of wannabe Simpsons bandwagon-riders, this one was clearly more interested in capitalising upon the goodwill directed at the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), which was then still pretty fresh on the public's minds. Of course, minus a lavish Hollywood budget and the art direction of an animation legend like Richard Williams, the results were never going to be quite as impressive. Integral to the appeal of Who Framed Roger Rabbit was the breathtakingly believable way in which cartoon creations like Roger, Jessica, Baby Herman, etc, appeared to inhabit the same physical space as Bob Hoskins and Christopher Lloyd. Needless to say, Hollywood Dog couldn't scratch up the same effect. The titular character connects with his live action world with all the seamlessness of a flat pencil drawing that's been crudely pasted on top of it, and efforts to have him interact with the human cast end up looking really, really ropy. More crippling still is that the animation for Hollywood Dog is so stiff and limited that the character is denied the dynamism and flexibility he desperately needed in order to make the show's central concept fly. Clearly, he's supposed to be this Tex Avery-style whirlwind of anything-goes anarchy, the kind of cartoon creation who can randomly set his face ablaze and flash headlights from his eyes because he's not bound by the rules of the flesh-and-blood world, yet in practice he moves about as fluidly as the characters from Rude Dog and The Dweebs. It somewhat defeats the purpose of doing a show about a cartoon character living in a live action world when your animated creation frankly isn't.
One thing that Hollywood Dog DOES have in its favour is that it boasts the talents of a Simpsons voice actor, the title character being voiced by Hank Azaria and sounding recognisably like Moe the bartender. Azaria was a pretty solid choice for the role, giving the character an enjoyable spunkiness that exceeds the limitations of the animation. Whenever Hollywood Dog does exhibit any kind of verve or dynamism, it's thanks to the liveliness of Azaria's performance.
For a long time, Hollywood Dog was the stuff of mystery, this weird little failed show which I'd delved deep enough into the history of television animation to know existed but could otherwise uncover precious little information about. If it was a misfit animation from the early Simpsons era then my curiosity was definitely piqued, but the pilot long proved impossible to find - until very recently, when it surfaced on YouTube, and I was able to cross off one item on my grail list (alas, still no sign of the Carlton Your Doorman special to date). Which means that we now have the joy of getting to go through it with a fine comb on here.
First off, I have to say that I don't much care for the show's theme music, which sounds like the kind of blandly generic theme you'd find in any number of second-rate sitcoms from this era, and doesn't exactly make for the best of initial impressions. Before we get to Hollywood Dog, we're introduced to our human protagonist, Bodine, who's in desperate need of a fresh start after being dumped by his fiance and decides to leave his life in Nebraska and pursue a music career in Hollywood - much to the chagrin of his mother, who warns him that "those California people are animals!" Of course, in the case of the Californian he'll be befriending shortly, that's literally so. After a few establishing shots, we enter into Hollywood Dog's apartment at the Bahama Lounge Hotel (the show's principal setting), where he's having a heated telephone conversation with a musician named Dave La Rock who he'd booked to play at the hotel bar tonight but who now apparently wants out. Hollywood Dog is kept largely off-screen during the initial portion of this scene, with the occasional fleeting glimpse of an animated arm teasing us as to his true identity. La Rock's cancellation comes as quite a blow to the cartoon mutt, not least because he's being hounded by the building manager, Duane (Raymond O'Connor), for having racked up some significant rent arrears. As Duane listens in on the disastrous phone call from outside, he's briefly approached by another tenant, a young artist named Rhonda (Lenora May). We'll get to Rhonda later, but those of you who know your sitcom cliches inside out won't be surprised to learn that she's basically there to be Bodine's gratuitous love interest - certainly, in this episode she serves no real purpose other than to set up a will they/won't they that evidently didn't.
Duane eventually loses patience and tries to enter in on Hollywood Dog, but is kept at bay with a bark of, "Hold it, I'm naked!" Duane pauses, then realises that he's being taken for a chump - "Wait a minute, you're a dog, you're always naked!" Actually, given that Hollywood Dog is never without his yellow shirt, that punchline doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Regardless, Duane barges in, but Hollywood Dog has found an ingenious hiding place that takes advantage of his two-dimensional physique, by slapping himself upon a painting hanging on his apartment wall. Here, we get our first proper glimpse of the titular character, as Hollywood Dog peels himself from the picture and makes a stealthy escape through the window and into the front seat of his car, conveniently parked below. Upon landing, he pulls out and discards a couple of bras, muttering "Twins" with a sly grin. Yep, it's hinted that Hollywood Dog gets off with human females, a thought which you may or may not find palatable, although this was around the same time that Paula Abdul made a music video implying that she did the backseat mambo with a cartoon cat, so chalk it up to the spirit of the age.
Duane heads back down to the hotel lobby to excitedly announce to his mother and building head, Louise (Conchata Ferrell), that Dave La Rock has cancelled and Hollywood Dog therefore won't be coughing up the long-overdue rent money. Duane is essentially the closest thing that the pilot offers to an antagonist, in that he blatantly doesn't care for Hollywood Dog and would like to see the back of him, although it's never made clear what his specific beef with the dog is. Hollywood Dog may be a total sleazebag, but he has heart and everyone else at the Bahama lounge seems to enjoy having him around. Louise is a lot better-disposed toward the albino mutt than her son, but has her limits and reluctantly concedes that she'll have to evict him. This upsets Rhonda's kid brother Tyler (Matthew Brooks), who idolizes Hollywood Dog, although he's confident that the wily pooch will think of something.
Sure enough, it dawns on Hollywood Dog that, since no one at the Bahama Lounge even knows what Dave La Rock looks like, he could pluck any random musician off the streets and pass them off as La Rock. As chance would have it, he happens to spot Bodine getting off his bus from Nebraska with his guitar case in hand and decides that this is too good an opportunity to pass up. He pulls over and offers Bodine a lift, which Bodine accepts although he's somewhat overwhelmed by Hollywood Dog's appearance. He admits that, "I've never met anybody so..." "Animated?" offers Hollywood Dog, pulling a wacky but still very stilted-looking face. This is another gag which doesn't quite work because, as we've discussed, Hollywood Dog really isn't.
This is also the only point in the episode in which anyone even vaguely alludes to the inherent weirdness of a talking cartoon dog being a part of this live action world. Nobody else so much as bats an eyelid at the concept. Must be a Californian thing.
Hollywood Dog get to know one another a little better, and then Hollywood Dog impresses Bodine by revealing that he knows Canadian actress/model Shannon Tweed, who makes a guest appearance as herself, and who the randy mutt unsuccessfully attempts to work his flea-bitten charm on. Hollywood Dog asks Bodine where he'll be staying and mentions that he has a spare room in his place at the Bahama. When Bodine confirms that he has money, that seals the deal.
At the Bahama Lounge lobby, Hollywood Dog points out his friend Maurice, who happens to be playing the drums in the backdrop, and who's really just a weird means of inserting a suggestive drum beat every time something wacky or alluring happens to Bodine in this scene, starting with a random encounter with twins played by Anadel and Adele Baughn (it's never revealed if they're meant to be the same twins Hollywood Dog is implied to have had a threesome with earlier). The inclusion of these twins is entirely arbitrary as they serve no useful purpose in story terms whatsoever, but maybe their intended function would have come to light had the show been picked up for a series proper; we can only speculate.
Hollywood Dog is spotted by Louise, who calls him over and demands that he come clean about the status of tonight's La Rock gig. Louise frankly doesn't take much convincing that Bodine is La Rock, although Hollywood Dog further protects his scheme by telling her that "La Rock" is a little sensitive right now because his fiance barbecued her entire family and has just been committed to a mental hospital; thus, he could do without any unnecessary hassle. Louise never questions his ridiculous story (then again, she lives in a world where having a tenant who's a cartoon dog is regarded as entirely normal) and tells Hollywood Dog to take "La Rock" straight to his room. Hollywood Dog still needs to stall Bodine while he converts the closet in his room into a spare bedroom, so he calls Tyler over and has him hogtie Bodine. At this point, Rhonda shows up and we get our awkward initial meeting between the two would-be lovebirds, with Tyler making a point of the fact that his sister is single (seems an odd thing to say off the bat to a total stranger, unless he's really determined to see her hook up with someone) and Maurice throwing in another telltale drum beat in the backdrop.
Bodine later joins Hollywood Dog in his apartment and finds him nosing through the songs he's written. He gets miffed when Hollywood Dog refers to his creaky old guitar as "firewood", but his annoyance turns to awe when he notices pictures showing all the famous celebrities that Dog has rubbed shoulders with over the years. Which leads into this exchange:
Bodine: You really are a celebrity!
Hollywood Dog: Celebrity-slash-promoter, entrepreneur, actor, musician, not to mention impressionist...
Bodine: Impressionist? Can you do Roger Rabbit?
Hollywood Dog: (Glances at camera) Not on this budget!
(Drum beat)
Thus, we get a stab at self-depreciation over the show's real elephant in the room. As a gag, it feels jarring as hell, although it is the one that the promos seemed to favour.
Bodine is pretty taken with Hollywood Dog's place, until he realises that Dog intends for him to bunk in his old closet, at which point he cottons on to the likelihood that his new companion is looking to scam him and opts not to stay. In desperation, Hollywood Dog offers him the first two weeks for free, but Bodine isn't biting - however, on his way out he bumps into Rhonda, who spills paint all over his shirt. Spying an opportunity to delay Bodine's exit, Dog rips off the shirt and suggests that Rhonda dry clean it while Bodine take a shower. This leads to an awkward bit where Bodine is left standing around the hotel corridor with his chest exposed while Rhonda gawks at him, in case it wasn't already painfully obvious that they're setting up for a thing between these two.
While Bodine showers in his apartment, Hollywood Dog stumbles upon another potential wrench in the works; namely, that Bodine is a pretty terrible singer (in Dog's words, he "sings like a seal", which is a simile I'd never encountered before). He hatches a fresh plan, and asks Bodine if he can borrow a bit of money to buy them both food - Bodine permits him to take five dollars from his wallet. Bodine then realises that he's been lathering up his hair with Dog's anti-flea shampoo and is predictably horrified.
Bodine later attempts to order a soda at the hotel bar, where Duane is serving, but realises that Dog has stripped his wallet completely bare. Duane mocks Bodine for allowing the dog to scam him, but Louise intervenes and orders Duane to leave "La Rock" alone, as his girlfriend was recently committed. This is the first whiff Bodine gets of the dog's massive fib, so he storms off to confront him, while Louise instructs Duane to try and soothe his hurt feelings by bringing him a sandwich. Before Bodine gets to have it out with Dog, there's another gratuitous moment between him and Rhonda which results in her inviting him into her place for jalapenos (nope, not a metaphor). When that's done, Bodine overhears the dog playing one of his songs on his own (cartoon) guitar, and bursts into the apartment to find him in the process of trying to sell the song to his agent Ziggy over the phone. Bodine now has a barrage of reasons to be pissed with Dog, who decides to come clean with him and explain that he was hoping to be able to pass him off as La Rock, and that he used Bodine's money to get his guitar, Loretta, out of hock so that he can back him up on stage should his singing prove much of a problem. Bodine refuses to go along with his scheme, angrily asserting that all they'll be doing is going to get his money back. He then heads off into his converted closet room to pack, while Dog dejectedly tries to take himself for a walk (producing a collar and leash out thin air) and discovers that Duane has been eavesdropping on the conversation (while munching on that sandwich he'd prepared earlier).
Duane now knows Dog's entire scheme and berates him for thinking he could pass the newcomer off as Dave La Rock. Dog tries to bluff his way out by hastily explaining that he was trying to protect his true identity, Blind Lazy Bones Jackson, who he states "has vision - limited, I admit, but he writes great songs." Duane isn't buying it, but Bodine discovers that Dog didn't just get his own guitar back but has also gifted him with a new one and, touched by the gesture, decides to assume the role of a blind musician in order to give his story credibility. Duane is a bit confused, recalling that this man didn't appear blind when he saw him downstairs earlier, but Dog insists that "the kid's a pro, he doesn't look for pity," and sends Duane off to prepare the stage for Blind Lazy Jones Jackson. With Duane gone, Dog thanks Bodine for covering him and assures him that he was being totally sincere when he describd his songs as great. Bodine agrees to go on stage and perform, but only as Bodine Frank, singing his songs, his way. Dog assures him that he'll see his name in lights, which gives Bodine the inspiration to finally finish a song he'd been penning.
That evening, Duane introduces Bodine on stage (realising in the process that Dog has gotten the best of him), only his singing doesn't go over too well with the lounge patrons (Tyler also uses the similie "sings like a seal"). Louise is all prepared to pull the plug on Bodine, when Dog comes to the rescue with Loretta in hand and the two friends perform on stage together. This gets the audience going, and even Duane seems won over by their charm.
In the final scene (which includes an endearingly tacky-looking shot with an animated moon sinking behind the hotel) Hollywood Dog pays off his debts to Louise and returns the money he borrowed from Bodine, but adds that if Bodine intends on staying then he'll take back half the rent money. Bodine, who's no pushover, reminds him that the first two weeks are free and proceeds to negotiate use of Dog's car into the package. The pilot ends with Dog advising Bodine that another local hotel, this one crawling with chicks, is looking for a cabana boy, and suggests that he might be able to help him out, because "I never met a dame who could resist a guy with a cute dog". "Cute dog?" Bodine retorts, "Do you know where I can find one?" "You're quick kid," replies Hollywood Dog. "I like that." Drum beat (actually, there is something strangely fitting about giving Maurice the last word here).
Anyway, contrary to what Dog insists at the end, obviously neither he or Bodine were going places, their television career being stopped dead after this one measly installment. Not too surprising, given that they clearly didn't have the resources to make the show's central conceit work, and the entire thing falls fatally flat as a result. Otherwise, there's nothing really offensively bad about Hollywood Dog - central gimmick notwithstanding, the writing feels totally generic, the human characters have no real depth or outstanding qualities, and the set-up for the intended romance between Bodine and Rhonda is handled with all the grace and subtlety of an echidna in a balloon factory, but it remains more-or-less watchable throughout, and Azaria is always on hand to pepper things up a notch. Personally, I doubt that the world missed out on anything too earth-shattering by stopping this show in its tracks, but it's definitely one to look up if you have a fascination with the rejects and misfits of television history, and with long-forgotten stabs at novelty premises that may well have been hits in alternate timelines.
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