Rudolph Were Trapped Theres No Way Out Its My Nose Again Its Ruined Us

Sometimes aspects of life get so royally fucked upward, in that location comes a indicate when y'all say, "Eh, screw it, I'll go forth with this for a bit, let's kick it upwards to another level."

This state loves the 4th of July—maybe less at nowadays from the standpoint of proud patriotism, especially with how we've been going for a few years now, only certainly because of good times with friends, beers, cookouts, laughs, camaraderie, in-person summer social manna, which for many people is quite different than a chat on the telephone.

The Twilight Zone has a marathon every year, which is apt for our historic period, but given the level of absurdity that has become our prevailing planar field, the most bonkers 4th of July special of all-time may be the most plumbing fixtures for this bonkers Fourth of July of self-isolating and wondering just what the hell to do with yourself.

There'due south no faulting anyone who says, "Stop trying to brand Christmas in July a thing." The idea is i that has never defenseless on, though bars would try mid-summertime Christmas-related promotions, back when we could get to bars, and some network is always firing up a roster of Christmas movie fare. The people at the Rankin/Bass product company went one better back in the mean solar day, when they had an idea to accept their iconic version of Rudolph, pair him with Frosty the Snowman and the bulbous dude's family, and pack them off on a Fourth of July vacation.

Everyone knows the original Rudolph special from 1964, but what you might non know was that Rankin/Bass kept at their trade for some fourth dimension after, getting weirder and weirder, druggier and druggier. If you lot were going to twenty-four hour period drink and get smashed on the 4th, you would fit the bill for the demo of 1979'south Rudolph and Frosty'due south Christmas in July.

But what's more bizarre yet—not to advise that Arthur Rankin, Jr. and Jules Bass were masters of prognostication—is that this hour-and-a-half long movie actually dovetails with our cancel civilisation, considering information technology is the shiny-beaked boyfriend for whom the mob comes. People say the mob swallow their own? Well, get prepared to watch characters who are otherwise meant to be cute and lovable go their knives out for the reindeer whose life, future prospects, and employability, must be stamped out like a soft grape nether a difficult hoof.

We begin with Rudolph chilling with Frosty and his two kids, who want the reindeer to show off his olfactory organ, which Rudolph finds irritating, but fine, whatever, here y'all go, kids. Problem is, the bulb flickers, out it goes, our hero has been compromised. There'southward this tang of impotence in front of the children, which is discomfiting, only we are simply getting started on the bizarre forepart.

Frosty showtime appeared in cartoon form in the Rankin/Bass earth in 1969, only hither he gets what they chosen their Animagic treatment. You probably term it Claymation, but you know the deal. We're treated to a montage backstory of Rudolph's heroic origins. James Joyce could announced less interested in intertextuality than the Rankin/Bass team, which is kind of admirable.

In the montage, you see Clarice—in new blitheness—who had been Rudolph'southward lady love back in 1964, the bumbling elves from the still-quite-terrifying The Year Without a Santa Claus (that'south the ane with the Miser Brothers), simply at present we get this bonus scene. Turns out that when Rudolph was born, his mom left him alone for a bit in their reindeer cave (WTF?) to go find her husband, who, if y'all might recollect from the original, shamed his son when he was not still five minutes old, and was a full jerk, as was Santa.

Rudolph is lonely, and Lady Boreal, a nature deity made of a beam of light (commonly) and human class (sometimes), turns up, carves this strange marker on Rudolph'due south hoof, and now he is the magic carrier of the low-cal—i.eastward., he has a bright nose—so long equally he doesn't pull some dickish movement. Pull the dickish move, lose the calorie-free forever.

But here's the problem: a winter magician (there are a bunch of these in Rankin-Bass-dom) named Winterbolt wants to kill off Santa, wreck Rudolph, and be the main Christmas honcho. His opportunity comes when Frosty and Rudolph decide to take a Fourth of July holiday together to a funfair far off in a hot spot by the body of water, because kids, as nosotros are told, should see the circus at least once before they dice. (Who the hell talks like this?)

There's no way to walk you through everything that happens adjacent and notwithstanding sound similar a reasonable human. Winterbolt has pet dragons with freaky, serpent-similar constructions coming out of their mouths. Winterbolt himself has these magic amulets that he gives to Frosty and his coiffure and so that they won't melt on their vacation (spoiler: it's a prevarication). There'due south a dude who is in dearest with one of the carny folk, an ice cream man who hawks his wares from a hot-air balloon. Only there'south also a Karen, albeit a male Karen who also seems dogged by some condition you are seemingly supposed to believe is STD-adjacent.

Alamy

This would be the reindeer Scratcher (a fiddling on the olfactory organ, yes?), who is envious of Rudolph. Winterbolt busts him out of the clink, presses him into his employ, and Scratcher—who looks similar an animated advertizement for hand sanitizer—ends upward framing Rudolph, who, nosotros should add, has started working for the circus. He'southward a treasurer, perhaps? The nefarious Scratcher takes a job every bit a roustabout, a discussion that no child on earth knows, to advocate with the prepare-upwardly to frame Rudolph. Frosty is the only character who understands the reasons why Rudolph tin't explain that he'southward innocent. This has to do with a promise, saving Frosty'due south life, it doesn't really affair.

Everyone quickly goes from "you're the best, my guy," to "yous suck, you lot evil monster," and Rudolph doesn't seem to want to say anything. He's broken. Rudolph tin can repent for something he didn't do, and he does, after a fashion, but that'south not especially pertinent or useful, merely similar the apologies we often see people brand today. Exercise they believe their own expression of contrition? Do we intendance? Practise we care about our own culpability if we've made someone else experience similar they must beg our forgiveness, as though they answer to united states of america, and all they did was hold a viewpoint that we tin can't reconcile with ours?

Then there's Frosty, who is going to let Rudolph take this hit. He looks at information technology as preservation of his family. That's his focus, more so than customs, or this ancient matter we used to have that Kant called the categorical imperative, which you lot and I call doing the right thing. The songstresses of the carnival specialize in country and western music with a blues tinge, so there'due south also this Hank Williams vibe. The police and guns playing a pivotal role before natural order is restored, though I'm not sure how natural that can always be again, after all of this. Rudolph could well accept been thinking, "Welcome to the new normal, baby, God assistance u.s.," for all we know.

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Everyone knows the original Rudolph special from 1964, but what you lot might non know was that Rankin/Bass kept at their trade for some time after, getting weirder and weirder, druggier and druggier.

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One might imagine Rankin and Bass making this as this kind of dare-based drinking game, where each of them would come up with a crazy idea, to take the other try and peak information technology. Consider, for instance, when Rudolph, defendant by all, shamed, his career in tatters, his olfactory organ utterly useless, takes what appears to be a walk to the declension to end it all.

Did you ever run across Rudolph's Shiny New year's day? That was some other Rankin/Bass special from 1976, which was trippy but not this trippy. It featured Big Ben, a whale with a clock embedded in its flesh, equally if in a blended homage to Proust and Dalí. And lo, upwardly he comes swimming now, to intervene merely in time, though he leaves direct away, because he has to get to South America. Of class. Tons of sense.

It gets even stranger at the end when, in need of a snow squall as Frosty and his family dice right in front of us, a simple invocation makes Jack Frost appear. Ta-da. Problem solved, snow people resurrected. Or hardened. Packed. Phone call information technology what yous will.

Information technology's difficult to think of a better Fourth of July special to get high or drunk to, or to only watch for a harmless diversion, the embracing of a benign form of absurdity in a world right now that is shot through with a incomparably baneful class of applesauce. You can have information technology as you desire information technology, which is what Rankin and Bass probably had in listen.

But it is true, you should come across a carnival earlier yous dice.

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Source: https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-most-fcked-up-fourth-of-july-special-ever-starred-frosty-the-snowman-and-rudolph-the-red-nosed-reindeer

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