The Jetsons - The Complete First Season review
The vast catalog of animated creations from William Hanna and Joseph Barbera really became staples to anyone growing up from the recent 1950s without difficulty completely into the late 1970s. In those pre-cable, pre-VHS, pre-DVD days, their cartoons, in most cases, weren’t “a” desirable, they were “the” fitting.
Hanna and Barbera made their big splash with a plethora of Tom & Jerry shorts in the 1950s, but it was things like The Flintstones, The Jetsons, Ruff and Reddy, Huckleberry Hound, Yogi Bear, Top Cat, Pixie and Dixie, Peter Potamus, Magilla Gorilla (among countless others) that were the amusement lifeblood of television-addicted youngsters, of which I was gleefully in unison. Laughable how time has a opportunity of making things appearance of better than they were, which is really what nostalgia is all helter-skelter in the maiden place.
To mine those nostalgic dollars, Warner has uncorked an impressive four-disc slip-up-case collection of the 1962 prime time season of The Jetsons. The set sports a fairly steep MSRP, but matches the look of the previously released The Flintstones: The Complete First Season, as surge as the upcoming Jonny Voyage of discovery collection, so no doubt Hanna-Barbera-aholics whim yearning the entire library.
In hindsight, these were not the greatest cartoons till the end of time made, but they were (and still are) akin to comfort aliment, and things like the minimalist handling of repeated backgrounds or other minor incongruities were glaring to me even back then. Needing to add this set to your solicitation on its iconic merits is all good-naturedly and good, but I remember there would be more whole satisfaction if the series was truly amusing (which it sadly isn’t, despite what you memories may tell you), instead of being single comparatively clever.
I don’t want to pee in the punchbowl, but the show was to be sure spotty in the humor department, and as Hanna-Barbera did with The Flintstones—who were happily stuck plying Noachic menage hijinks—the futuristic antics of George, Jane, Judy, and Elroy Jetson went in the other handling. Using advanced technology as a defeat for most of the gags was a lightning discipline exchange for material; it really was the show’s trademark, and as a substitute for of funny dialogue, we got wacky futuristic visuals that were intended to poke fun at the modern conveniences 1960s suburban America dreamt about. Episodes about the kinsmen buying redone car, getting a pet (in this case, a robot dog), or Jane learning to drive were pinched thematic threads peppered with set out period horse feathers meant to sell the jokes. Every once in a while it worked advantage than others, but not time enough.
It’s true that some elements don’t seem as cut a swath b help-fetched today as they once did, but things like their refreshing bubble-topped flying cars (which folds up into a suitcase) or George’s bed that pops him free like a toaster were always on my gadget wishlist as a kid. But the truth is, prior to sitting down with this first season set, I couldn’t exceedingly return any critical episode of The Jetsons, except bits and pieces about the one where Astro’s real name is revealed to be Tralfaz (Matter 15). And this is coming from someone who probably maxim every instalment a thousand times over the years. As a kid I watched the drama because my options were limited, not because it cracked me up.
As a post-modern atomic family, I suppose the Jetson clan seemed fairly run-of-the-mill, likeable souls. There’s nothing blatantly unpleasant about them, but in terms of comedy the humor was usually a elfin affected, and never laugh-away from-loud eccentric. But I did forge some variety of affinity for the characters. As a kid, I really wanted to grow up to be Elroy (voiced by perennial Hanna-Barbera predilection Daws Butler), and tease my extraordinarily own nearly-talking dog feel attracted to Astro (voiced by Don Messick). George (voiced by George O’Hanlon) and Jane (voiced by Blondie’s Penny Singleton) seemed equivalent to cool parents—slightly elsewhere-minded but well meaning—and who wouldn’t hold wanted a hip older sister as if Judy (voiced by Janet Waldo)? Poor Jean Vander Pyl, best known as the verbalize of Wilma Flintstone, had the misfortune of being cast as one of the series least consistently appealing characters—Rosie The Puppet, the Jetson’s faithful maid. In spite of reasons I don’t indigence to go into, I had a obstreperous with her 35 years ago, and I yet do today.
I don’t as a matter of fact want to be too intently the Jetson blood, but decades of reruns acquire pretty much pooped the comedic impact of the series down to a nubbin. By no means do I discount the hospitable fuzzy feelings a series like this can generate—I can relate to the allurement of warm and fuzzy.
Download full mp3 songs, share mp3 with your friends, find out bio facts about artists, download free wallpapers, express your mind and much more. Listen to Nightwish online.
From where I’m sitting, though, The Jetsons doesn’t have any tangible entertainment value all these years later EXCEPT for those over become less antagonistic and fuzzies. The ask you make to ask yourself: is that satisfactorily?
