Wonderman Music Video

Wonderman Music Video 

Original Release Date: March 7th, 1994

When I first started Hedgehogs Can't Swim oh so many years ago, my high-minded aspirations and primary goal were to create a deep exploration of fandom, to figure out why so many people were so obsessed with a little blue hedgehog that ran fast. My secondary goal was to simply gawk at the weirdest fucking corners of this franchise. Maybe that's the reason why "Sonic" fascinates so many. Once you start digging down this rabbit hole, you never stop uncovering bizarre new treasures. Early on, I wanted to start a monthly feature entitled "Weird Sonic Things." The idea was to take a deep dive into the most random-ass content the blue hedgehog has found himself in. Topics ranged from Russian game shows to cameos in Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and strangely prevalent Christian themed fan art. I will hopefully still write about some of these topics eventually but the day-to-day work of writing regular updates has been hard enough for me to maintain that side-projects simply have never materialized. 

However, my latest quest to watch and write my way through miscellaneous visual "Sonic" media has finally brought me to something I've been wanting to talk about for years. One of the first topics I chose when assembling my list of Weird Sonic Things I wanted to talk about. Readers, I implore you... Do you know who Right Said Fred is?

If you are around the same age as me, the answer is almost unquestionably yes. Those born in that sweet spot to be old enough to pay attention to pop culture in the early nineties but not old enough to have real things to worry about will know this English vaguely-electronic pop trio was inescapable for a short while around 1991 and 1992. Not because they were a culture defining talent that had a string of iconic hit songs before their flame was snuffed out early from burning so brightly. No, Right Said Fred scored a stupid novelty hit that essentially became the Harlem Shake of the early nineties. "I'm Too Sexy," an obnoxiously self-aware ode to the preening narcissism of gym culture, was basically an internet meme before internet memes existed. In the pre-online days, dumb gags like this had much longer shelf lives which means the culture at large had plenty of chances to run the joke into the ground. It was referenced everywhere. Overwhelming ubiquity like that would drain the humor and appeal out of anything, no matter the quality. "I'm Too Sexy" does have an insanely catchy melody. Fred Fairbass' monotone vocals do have a weirdly hypnotic quality to them, further supported by the repetitive chant-like structure of the chorus. You could also make the case that Right Said Fred were pioneers, being openly queer performers during a less open time, making a monster hit out of a campy celebration of LGBT+ culture. 

On the other hand, the joke of "Teehee, some guys are really into themselves, yaknowhatImean?" is clever only so many times. The song itself is droning and repetitive, which was only intensified by how inescapable it was for so long. A lot of people also didn't get the joke, taking the song at face value and assuming it was an unironic ode to these bald, buff guys' egos. I suppose the point I'm making is, in isolation, "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred is a perfectly cromulent dumb pop song, worth a chuckle or two. As a widespread Song of the Summer super hit, however, the joke very quickly wore out its welcome. I was four in 1992 and I recall being bored of hearing this thing. 

Why am I talking about this? What does any of this dumbass shit have to do with Sonic the Hedgehog? Well, my friends, come closer and listen intently because now the fun truly starts. Here in the U.S., we had the good sense to dismiss Right Said Fred after one chart-topping hit. "I'm Too Sexy" had a powerful sway on people's imagination but the American public still recognized it as a stupid one-off joke, having no interest in learning any more about these muscly lads from London. In this country, Right Said Fred are the one hit wonder-iest of one hit wonders, never allowed anywhere near the Hot 100 after their sole fluke pop culture phenomena. In their home country, however, the record buying populace put up with these goofballs for a few more songs. "I'm Too Sexy" isn't even technically their biggest hit in the U.K., that honor belonging to whatever the hell this is. But, yes, there was indeed a valid attempt down England's way to make what amounted to a joke band into regular hitmakers. And what better way to extend the life span of one inexplicable pop culture fad then by tying it onto another weird thing that was, briefly, extremely popular around the same time? 

In England, the marketing for Sega's Mega-Drive leaned harder on edgy, juvenile posturing than the Genesis' ads did over here. Such as in the infamous masturbation themed Game Gear ads. While Sonic himself never cracked any jokes about playin' wit y'ur todger, the U.K. version of the hedgehog did carry that distinctly English brand of stiff-upper-lip attitude and campy humor. In the United States, associating a kid-brand like "Sonic" – designed to appeal to the playground version of coolness as much as possible – with the smirking, self-aware humor of the "I'm Too Sexy" guys would have been unthinkable. Sonic doesn't wear a shirt because he's too sexy for it. Sonic doesn't know what sex is! By 1994, when "Sonic the Hedgehog 3" was coming out, Right Said Fred would have been perceived by the hip youths as totally washed-up, clinically uncool has-beens anyway. We were all about the alternative nation and the gangsta rap by that point, baby! But in the U.K., a mash-up of these two nineties relics that had absolutely nothing to do with each other made, perhaps, a little more sense. At least to some galaxy-brained marketing execs. 

Which, finally, brings me to today's topic. If you haven't heard it before, prepare yourselves. May I introduce you to "Wonderman?" No, not everyone's eleventh favorite Avenger. I'm talking about the 1994 hot single from Right Said Fred, off their second album "Sex and Travel," that was chosen to be a promotional single for the U.K. release of "Sonic the Hedgehog 3." Wikipedia goes so far as to describe it as "a song about Sonic the Hedgehog." Really?! Let's investigate further...

First off, no, Wikipedia is lying to you. "Wonderman" is not about Sonic. At least, not the original version. This utterly forgotten dance ditty actually exists in at least two variations. The "Sex and Travel" version is not dissimilar to Right Said Fred's biggest hit. Instead of being an ironic ode to one's own sexiness, written from the perspective of a self-absorbed gym rat, "Wonderman" has the singer looking outward at somehow who actually lives up to such rhapsodizing praise. The titular entity is described as having "deltoids for days," a perfect tan and being at least six feet tall. Despite being "the naked treat in magazines," this Wonderman isn't only a slice of primo beefcake. He has striking eyes, a movie star smile. Moreover, his values match his perfect appearance. He's got new age beliefs, understands that sharing is caring, protects the Earth and opens his heart to black, white, and uh "yellow" humans. In other words, "Wonderman" is a song describing a perfect man, a Nietzschean ubermensch that is both a sculpted specimen and an upstanding individual ready to help the world. 

It's hard to say if Fairbass is describing this wonder man from a point of lust or aspiration, whether he wants to become him or come in him. Either way, these lyrics clearly do not describe our favorite little blue guy. Sonic does love the Earth but his deltoids are not exactly noteworthy. His tan is not appreciated. He's not six feet tall. (Though neither is Tom Cruise, also name-dropped in these lyrics.) I guess he technically is naked but I don't think Electronic Gaming Monthly was the magazine this song is talking about... I have no doubt that many a person feels Sega's mascot as insanely desirable. However, I doubt that was on the minds of Sega of England's marketing execs. Finding myself writing about another extremely obscure corner of pop culture, there are no sources anywhere for why this song was chosen to promote "Sonic 3." We can only speculate on how this came to be. 

If you listen to the album mix of the song, you can almost see the link. The jazzy trumpets that open the song, especially the cute swaying melody they do, do sound like something you'd hear on the Sega Genesis. While the Vogue-able dance beats are not all that Genesis-like, there is an occasional synth wiggle that sounds suitable. The single line about being "a friend of the Earth" certainly aligns with the early "Sonic" media's environmental subtext. However, one suspects that the song was simply chosen to associate the blast processing of the Mega-Drive's newest blockbuster with a source of wonderment and astonishment. Sonic's entire thing, at the time, was being cooler than cool. Perhaps this speedy little rodent could be your Wonderman, Right Said Fred? That's how I imagine it went away. 

As cheeky as the U.K. marketing for Sega products could get, someone obviously realized these lyrics were a little inappropriate for this chosen subject. Credit to the Fairbass bros, their engineers, producers, and everyone else, they completely reworked the song. The beat is a little faster. The jazzy trumpets are gone, replaced with ramping synth sparkles and edgier dance grooves. One assumes this was done to invoke Sonic's speed. Springy sproing noises are inserted throughout, clearly an attempt to bring the pinball-like action of the game to mind. The result makes the song sound more like a gay club dance track though, especially once a falsetto scatting that seems right out of a drag show is introduced in the back half. (Naturally, there is a five minute long version ideal for dance floor revelry, if anyone ever wanted to snort poppers while thinking about Sonic the Hedgehog...)

Most notably, however, is how the lyrics were totally reworked. I don't know if the Freds were simply told to incorporate some marketing buzz words into the new song or if they were genuinely enthusiastic about the subject. Either way, the single version of "Wonderman" rather obviously is about Sonic. The titular subject is "having a blast," as in blast processing. He's "hoggin' the limelight," har har. The lyrics specifically reference Sonic's power sneakers and spin attack, while referring to a sonic boom, attitude, hipness, the color blue, Speedy Gonzalez, and being state of the art. The singers clearly understood the assignment as it were, though comparing Sonic to "an itch you'll scratch again and again" and "Fay Wray's King Kong" – not Jessica Lang or Linda Miller's King Kong, we're talking the original here – I guess what I'm saying is that the song does, indeed, sell the shit out of this hedgehog... Despite the hook being more-or-less unchanged. You'd think, at some point in production, someone would've pointed out that Sonic isn't a Wonderman. He's a hedgehog! But I guess that didn't flow as well. I do like the refrain of comparing our hero to lightning and thunder that is added to the chorus.

As a song, I would rate either version of "Wonderman" as a passable pop ditty. The single mix is bouncier, I think, while the novelty of its topic certainly makes it more interesting than the album cut. The first time I heard "Wonderman," it didn't strike me as an especially inspired song. However, in the years since, the chorus has repeatedly worked its way into my brain at unexpected intervals. The repetition of the title and the showgirl glee the singers repeat it with certainly compel one to say the title to the melody of the song where you think about it. It is catchy, in other words, showing that Right Said Fred actually did have a talent for creating ear worms. Or at least two of them.

But you don't really care about the song, do you? No, no, if it's 1994, you understand as well as the next person that no track is going to become a hit without a music video. After all, it's my dedication to reviewing Sonic-related animation that I used as an excuse to ramble on about this fuckin' thing for two thousand words. Yes, Right Said Fred didn't merely record a song about Sonic the Hedgehog. They made a music video about him too! Let's take this masterpiece in together, shall we? 

Let's deconstruct what we've watched, shall we? Music videos are not beholden to storylines but the best ones at least have a premise of some sort. The "Wonderman" clip seems to frame itself as an interview show of some sort. Right Said Fred, playing the role of conceited and self-absorbed rock stars, are being interviewed when Steven O'Donnell – then the face of Sega of Europe's television commercials – insist it's time to interview a real big star. No, not the bald guys. The blue hedgehog! The rest of the video is set in an industrial water filtration plant, a sign informing us that this is supposedly Hydrocity Zone. The interviewer and his crew muck about, trying to catching up with Sonic while Right Said Fred prance about in fedoras and pinstripe suits, I guess coincidentally making a music video in the exact same location that night. There's other stuff, like the band's heads appearing in a blank void, a big cartoon skull flashing on screen, and plenty of random pyrotechnics. It's a nineties music video, don't think too hard about it. 

Hopefully I didn't disappoint anyone previously unfamiliar with this three minutes and forty seconds of campy joy by giving the impression that we would actually see Sonic the Hedgehog and the "I'm Too Sexy" guys jamming together. The hedgehog does appear in the video but it's via sped-up footage from the game and, yes, a blue streak speeding by. There are multiple point-of-view shots in the video from something zooming around the factory, a red graphical interface overtop the footage. It would seem this is meant to be from Sonic's perspective, making me wonder if director Paul Boyd thought he was a robot or something. Either way, our azure avenger is there. I suppose this was a somewhat clever solution around the obvious fact that a music video in 1995 didn't have the budget to portray flesh and blood humans interacting with a cartoon character. Zeroing in on how Sonic is often shot through winding chutes and tunnels, resulting in lots of footage of interconnecting pipes, was certainly an idea. Right Said Fred clearly didn't have a Michael Jackson budget here, so I'd say they made good use of the resources afforded to them. 

Funny enough, the video itself seems to acknowledge that the band singing this song was old-hat by 1994. The Fairbass brothers play themselves as clueless, drugged out rock wannabes with no substance at all. The video ends with O'Donnell burying a TV playing the interview in an open grave, referring to it as "very, very boring" right as the bald boys quote their most famous single. I don't know if this was an example of the band itself realizing their fifteen minutes were up and clowning around a bit. Or if the idea is simply to suggest that Sonic is much cooler, much more innovative, and far more interesting than the band we are watching being promoted. Though that's kind of funny too, since the "Sonic" franchise would hit the first of its many slumps not too many years after this. The saying is true: One day you're on top and, the next, you're loosing out to fucking Bug as the mascot for the Sega Saturn. 

I don't foresee Right Said Fred having a successful comeback and being the subject of a trilogy of blockbuster movies anytime soon though. "Wonderman" was not exactly a hit. It peaked at number 55 on the U.K. charts. The only other country it charted in was Belgium, where it at least got to number 50. Despite the mediocre chart performance, "Wonderman" was apparently successful enough to be included in the 27th edition of the Now That's What I Call Music compilation series. It appeared alongside such luminaries as Doop, Cappella, and Urban Cookie Collective. Yes, the Doop! Actually, "Wonderman" has the distinction of being one of the lowest charting songs to appear on a Now collection. Which is better than no distinction at all! It also shows up in the 1994 Disney movie, "Blank Check." I haven't seen that in probably thirty years but I think I'd remember if Sonic had a cameo too... 

Needless to say, singing about Sonic the Hedgehog did not raise the band's failing fortunes. The group has continued to put out songs in the years since, releasing seven albums after "Sex and Travel." They've yet to score another hit though, unless you count getting sampled by Taylor Swift and Drake. Most recently, the Fairbass boys have netted some further notoriety by participating in anti-masking and anti-lockdown protests during the COVID-19 pandemic. They are one of the faces of Not Our Future, an organization that Wikipedia describes as an "anti-climate change" activist group but whose website seems more interested in raging against the World Health Organization, "identity politics," and something they call "the Blob." What is it about being briefly successful pop singers in the nineties that turn people into weirdos in the modern day? 

Despite whatever questionable politics the band may promote now, "Wonderman" remains a bop. Having listen to the song and watched the video about a dozen times in the process of writing this, I can now proudly say that it's the second most Right Said Fred song I can name off the top of my head. Did I need to devote so many words to this topic? Haha, you fool, I don't need to do anything! Anyway, thanks for reading this stupid bullshit. I'll only write about other Sonic-adjacent music videos in the future if they are as funny as this one.

Sonic CD Opening Animation

Sonic CD Opening Animation

Original Release Date: September 23rd, 1993

What, to you, is the most iconic piece of "Sonic" animation?

It's a good question to ask. The character has almost as long-lived a history in animation as he does video games. From the beginning, Sega and Sonic Team looked to classic cartoons like Mickey Mouse and AstroBoy as inspiration for the hedgehog. That Sonic debuted on TV only a few years after his first game dropped is a testament to how well-suited he is to the realm of animation. How determined his creators were to make him, not merely a video game star, but a cultural icon that could dominate multiple sectors. Maybe it didn't quite work out that way but the fact that "Sonic" animation is still such a pivotal part of the brand is another indicator that Sonic was made to be a cartoon character as much as a gaming mascot. 

Which brings me back to my opening question: What is the most iconic piece of "Sonic" animation? For fans of a certain age, it might be the "SatAM" opening. Lord knows that intro entranced me as a kid, drawing me totally into this world and the effortless sense of cool its hero showed. For others, the highly cinematic opening to "Sonic Adventure" probably hooked them in a similar way. It promises a world of limitless adventure, high stakes, epic fantasy, with a cocksure little speedster at the center. I'm sure, in the future, we'll hear new generations of "Sonic" devotees describing the "Mania" trailer, "Frontiers" gameplay, that bitchin' "Knuckles" short, or the movies in similarly awed tones. 

And these are all good choices. They are also all wrong. No, no, no, listen. I know these things are subjective. Everyone is going to have a different favorite, a personal opinion. Nobody is going to define "iconic" the same way. Especially when it comes to this fandom, when different eras are measured by different games and shows, it's likely that any "Sonic" fan will have a unique, highly personal answer to that question. But I'm telling you they are all wrong. There is, in fact, a correct answer to the question of "What is the most iconic piece of "Sonic" animation?" It is, without a doubt, the "Sonic CD" intro. 

I never had a Sega CD, which I imagine is the case for most "Sonic" fans who lived through the nineties. The Genesis peripheral sold notoriously poorly over here, owing to its high price point and lack of popular games. These days, the console is most remembered for its library of extremely cheesy full-motion video titles, notorious for their choppy visuals, unconvincing acting, and lack of compelling gameplay. (Despite all that, one of these games somehow still managed to be a focus of congressional controversy here in the States.) The Sega CD's most critically acclaimed titles remain utterly obscure in North America. How many people do you know that played "Popful Mail" in 1994? Where was the die-hard American following for the "Lunar" duology at the time? Do such human beings exist?

No, I never had a Sega CD. I did have a family friend who had one. One of those kids who had all the latest gaming contraptions. Naturally, he had to show me "Sonic CD," which was agreed upon at the time as the one bona fide killer app the console had. And the minute I laid eyes on the opening animation, my mind was blown. Years later, I came into possession of the Windows-95 port of the game. I honestly don't have many memories of actually playing "Sonic CD" but I do remember watching that introduction incessantly, letting it loop for a while. 

What was it about the "Sonic CD" Intro that captivated me so? The entire thing runs less than two minutes. It can't be described as having much of a plot, consisting mostly of Sonic simply running through the forest and towards the chained Little Planet up in the sky. And somehow it sums up everything that was cool and cutting edge about this series at the time. I've written before about how exotic anime was to American dweebs in the middle nineties. How it was seen as the more artistic, edgier counterpart to our strictly-for-kids cartoons, that used the endless boundaries of the art of animation for mature storytelling and expressive imagination. This wasn't quite true but that was the perception. The "CD" intro was the closest thing we had to a "Sonic" anime in 1993. And it was fucking cool. In the parlance of the day, it was phat. Hesh. Sick. Bitchin'. At least that's how my little autistic ass remembers it. 

What is true is that Japanese animation was often smoother and more stylized than its English language counterparts. I was utterly obsessed with "SatAM" as a kid but I must have realized, at the time with my little baby brain, that it didn't look this good. Despite its brief runtime, this animation sneaks in so much personality for Sonic. When finding a look-out on a rocky outcropping, he suspends himself on one hand while spreading his legs out. He corkscrews up a narrow peak at the animation's climax. Everything the hedgehog does, every minor pose and movement, is designed to project coolness and attitude. Not to mention the amount of detail in the animation in general. The sparks leaping off the massive chain, the water splashing up around Sonic as he leaps across a river. The dust and rainbows he kicks up. Everything about this animation conveys not simply speed but an effortless speed. Sonic changes the physical properties of things around him when he runs and without breaking a sweat! How fucking cool is that?

There's a reason the "Sonic Mania" animation would so closely emulate this opening. In many ways, this is the definitive look for what would eventually become known as "Classic Sonic." The spindly limbs, the overly round fist, the way his face expresses so much determination and focus despite never saying a word: All of these elements show Sonic's primary attributes. He has such a definitive sense of attitude that words are not necessary to express it. He's aerodynamic but still composed of simple shapes. When the force that speed creates is applied to a big ass rock, the impact of the blow is emphasized by a repeating frame of animation. These are the kind of tricks that make the action scenes in Japanese animation so thrilling to watch, that American animators wouldn't pick up on for years. 

He runs through a wide, open, natural world... With that enormous chain and mountain carved into Eggman's shape being the major exceptions. These are unnatural intrusions in a world otherwise defined by smooth lines and mountainous peaks. Without any spoken dialogue or extensive narrative, the animation tells you so much about this world, this character, and the themes it communicates with. "Sonic CD" is a game very much concerned with ecological ideas. The time travel gimmick shows us a world that is untouched by industry, in the process of being changed, and a grim destination of a totally corrupted, ruined natural landscape. These same concepts are subtly present in this little two minute opening too. It's neat looking and it's thematic! What more could you want? 

How about a bitchin' soundtrack too? The North American release of "Sonic CD" scores the animation to a song called "Sonic Boom," arranged by a fella called Spencer Nilsen and sung by the group Pastiche. To some ears, this song may sound cheesy. The lyrics are certainly goofy nonsense. What exactly does it mean to "reach the other side of the rainbow?" The singers also repeatedly conflate Sonic's speed with flying, which is odd. But when that chorus kicks in! The repetition of the title has an undeniable rhythm to it. When "Save the planet from disaster!" kicks in, it's impossible for me not to feel pumped. The instrumentation combines orchestral synth with wailing guitars, providing a soundtrack that is both epic in scope and contains a rock 'n' roll attitude. The perfect music to suggest smirking bad-ass Sonic is about to go on a planet spanning adventure here. It's awesome, you guys. I'm sorry, I won't be taking any questions on this subject. The defense rests. 

The combination of "Sonic Boom" and the specific motions of this animation are so ingrained in my memory that it's impossible for me to separate them. Which makes acknowledging that this wasn't the original soundtrack difficult to recognize. Whenever I watch the Japanese opening of "Sonic CD," I'm always taken aback when I hear "Sonic – You Can Do Anything." It's not that I dislike this song. This one also has a propulsive, bitchin' chorus you can shout along to. I think the rapping is silly sounding but the instrumental backing is probably more sophisticated than "Sonic Boom's" music. Simply put, this isn't the "Sonic CD" opening that imprinted on my brain as a kid. Hearing a different song over this animation feels intrinsically wrong because the U.S. version is so iconic to me. Any other song playing over it would feel weird to me. (Though this fan dub is pretty cool. I'm one of maybe only three people in the world who think Sonic and Bad Religion are a perfect match though...)

Having rambled on about this brief animation for twelve paragraphs, I've probably made my case that "Sonic CD's" intro is, in my eyes at least, at the tippy-top of all "Sonic" animation. It says a lot about how important this short little cartoon is to me that I could probably go on longer about it – did I mention that shot of the shadows of clouds moving across the ground while the synth pumps up at the very beginning? Arrrrgh, man, it's so fuckin' good! – but I'll wrap it up. Would a "Sonic" series or movie in this style of animation make me die of happiness? Yes. Hell, do it like that Daft Punk movie and score the entire story to pop songs, without any dialogue. Pure cinema. Alright, I'm visualizing fake movies now, time to pack it in. Unless the third "Sonic" film ends with Princess Sally popping out of the theater screen to tell me I'm a good man, this will be the only perfect score I ever hand out in this blog's history. [10/10]

BUBSY: What Could Possibly Go Wrong? (1993)

Anybody who was there at the time will remember that, in the early nineties, every video game company wanted their own hip, cool, cartoon animal mascot with ‘tude. Of course, if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know that by far the most popular and successful of these mascots... Blowing away possums, bats, geckos, toads, dinosaurs, bandicoots, dragons, crocodiles, skunks, Tasmanian tigers, flying squirrels, grounded squirrels, crude Italian stereotypes, ninjas, cavemen, and whatever the hell a “hedgehog” is... ....was Accolade’s Bubsy the Bobcat. This widely beloved and popular character would headline a long running series of hugely successful. Ready to take on the world, Bubsy would make an attempt to leap into other mediums. However, the lauded bobcat’s first attempt to expand outside video games was so bungled that it nearly sent bobcat fanatics the world over into a depressive state.

I’m talking about, of course, the infamous pilot for a “Bubsy” animated. Made without the input of series sage, Michael Berlyn, the Taco Bell-sponsored episode would make scattered airings across the country in the second half of 1993. This perversion of our beloved hero would not be picked up for series. It wouldn’t even be released on home video, surviving only as blurry television recordings posted to the internet. This program has vexed Bubsyologist so greatly for the last twenty-five years that it I’ll behooves me to even mention it. Yet my commitment to covering all corners of the bobcat universe made this inevitable. So let’s dive right in, shall we?

Plot wise, “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” is not adapted from the first game, “Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind,” the only other piece of “Bubsy” media to exist at the time. Several of its characters and some parts of its story would be appear in “Bubsy II,” released the next year. This episode marks the first appearance of Arnold Armadillo, Bubsy's timid sidekick, and Terrence and Teresa, his identical niece and nephew. (Sometimes erroneously referred to as his younger siblings.) Both the plot of the pilot and the second video game involve virtual reality, though the similarities end there. Overall, the pilot deviates greatly from established “Bubsy” lore.

So what is the plot of “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” Self-proclaimed hero Bubsy has been ordered to watch his mischievous nephew and niece, much to the chagrin of the nervous Arnold. On television, he sees inventor Virgil Reality has invented a new device that can seemingly alter the nature of reality. Bubsy volunteers to test the device, which is also being sought by narcissistic villain Ally Cassandra. Soon, Terri and Terry run off with the device, greatly misusing it. Cassandra, meanwhile, sends her two henchmen – the haughty Bozwell Buzzard and the idiotic Sid the Shrew – to steal the headset. Terri and Terry get snatched at the same time as the helmet, Bubsy and his friends setting off to rescue them.

As depicted in “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?,” Bubsy is practically a deconstruction of the '90s video mascot with 'tude. In the games, our exclamation symbol-wearing hero is very lovable and not-at-all annoying. In this cartoon, Bubsy is a huge asshole and incredibly annoying. His attitude manifests in a narcissistic need to gloat and self-promote. He volunteers to tests Dr. Reality's machine because he believes himself to be a hero and that's the kind of shit heroes do, even though Bubsy does very few genuinely heroic things throughout this half-hour. He's so brass and snarky that he treats his friends like shit. He intentionally triggers Arnold's traumatic nightmares about being hit by a truck, before spinning the armadillo around like a basketball and leaving his destructive nieces to play with him.

As for the annoying part, Bubsy is given an especially nasally voice and cracks his title-lending catchphrase so often the other characters start mocking him for it. If this was an intentional subversion of what mascot characters where like in the early nineties, it's actually quite clever. But I think that's given this failed cartoon pilot way too much credit.

In fact, you can tell that “Bubsy” isn't that smart because the rest of the pilot's humor is lame and obnoxious. Take a look at the half-hour's antagonists, who must be among the most forgettable villains of '90s Saturday mornings. Ally Cassandra, a character with no other appearances in any “Bubsy” media, seems like a half-assed attempt to create a furry sex symbol but is utterly unimposing as a villain, a vein lady villain whose humiliation provides no chuckles. Her primary henchmen – who at least showed up as regular enemies in “Bubsy 2” – are facile cliches. How many cartoons have had stuck-up stuffy bad guys like Bozwell Buzzard? Or wacky buffoons like Sid the Shrew, who largely exists to fuck up the antagonists' own plans?

These are not the only voids of humor present in “Bubsy.” Most of the special's cast are cheap cliches that we've seen trotted out a thousand times. Virgil Reality is a perfectly reasonable character that is constantly belittled by Bubsy, which just makes the bobcat hero look like more of a prick. The doctor's assistant is a cat named Oblivia, obviously because she's not very smart. Her habit of mispronouncing Bubsy's name – the briefest, dying ember's flicker of a genuinely decent gag – is repeatedly run into the ground, the humor calling far too much attention to itself. (For totally inexplicable reasons, Oblivia is then set up as Bubsy's love interest.) Mostly, “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” doubles-down on loud, shrieking, “random” humor that is popular with only the most undiscriminating youngsters. We're talking lots of loud slapstick and stupid shit happening for no damn reason.

The “no damn reason” part is important. There is not a lot of clear interior logic to “Bubsy's” story. As the none-too-subtle pun in his name indicates, Dr. Virgal Reality's headset is specifically identified as – go figure – a virtual reality device. Yet I guess that was a catchy buzz word at the time that the showmakers interpreted to mean absolutely anything. Virgal's device, instead of sticking its wearer into a digital world they can interact with, instead transforms reality to the wearer's whims. So Terri and Terry use it to manifests all sorts of toys and objects. Arnold's makes his nightmares real. Cassandra has her wish of being famous granted. Basically, the episode's entire plot hinges on this MacGuffin that can do absolutely any and everything, leaving little solid foundation to build an actual story upon, resulting in a series of truly pedestrian gags.

As if you needed any other indicator that the “Bubsy” cartoon was dead on arrival, the animation isn't even up to the admittedly fairly low standards of early 90s animation. Save for Bubsy himself, the character designs are unappealing. Terri and Terry have these perpetually half-open eyes, making them looking high or sleepy. (Combined with the mayhem they reap, that makes the twins look even more like fucking sociopaths.) Arnold the Armadillo, in fact, looks more like an aardvark shoved inside a blue soccer ball. The colors are dull, the backgrounds are flat, the animation is stiff and inexpressive.

The voice cast is composed of veterans of the animation industry. If you spent any time watching cartoons in the 80s or 90s, you'll immediately recognize a few of them. Rob Paulsen – Yakko and Raphael are just two of his best-known parts – adopts a nasally lisp as Bubsy. Pat “Krang” Fraley grumbles as both Arnold and Virgil. Jim Cummings gives Sid the Shrew nearly the same voice as his take on Pete or Taz. Tress MacNeille is similarly recognizable as Oblivia, as she's definitely used the same blank and oblivious voice on “The Simpsons.” That leaves B.J. Ward and Neil Ross – equally prolific if less well known voice actors from the same era – to fill out the few remaining parts.

I guess what I'm saying is: the pilot for the “Bubsy” cartoon is pretty bad. I'm not surprised this didn't go to series, not even in the same decade that allowed classics like “Hammerman” and “Yo Yogi” to run for a whole season each. The titular question of “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” is answered with “Just about everything.” The characters are either lame or irritating. There's barely a story. The animation is fairly cheap. The jokes are grating and obvious.

The rich lore and long history of the “Bubsy” franchise deserved much better, of course, even this early in its life time. As the Dole administration dawned in 1996, the “Bubsy” series would leap to 3-D graphics and completely revolutionize video gaming. I certainly know “Bobcats Can't Glide” wouldn't exist without the long history of bobcat related media that would follow. With this pilot covered, we'll return next time to my coverage of the long-running “Bubsy” comic book from Binky Comics and dismiss this cartoon to whatever weird alternate universe – where video gaming's most beloved bobcat is a laughable jerk and an industry footnote – it belongs to.

MEMORIES: Sega Genesis

(Today, I'm trying something a little different here at Hedgehogs Can't Swim. Some of you are probably aware of my other blog. Film Thoughts, devoted to movie reviews and film related essays, recently crossed 1000 posts. Over there, I have a reoccurring feature called Memories. They're long, nostalgic essays about something vaguely film-related. Today's Memories essay is about the Sega Genesis. Considering the crossover between these two blogs, I decided to post it here as well. The comic reviews will be back on Friday.)

 
Video games are huge business these days and I do not care. The most recent game system I own is an X-Box 360, which I bought exclusively to play “Marvel vs. Capcom III.” I haven’t turned on the system in probably over a year, to the point I unplugged it from my TV, wrapped it up in its cords, and hid it away somewhere. But it wasn’t always that way. As a kid in the early nineties, I saw video game systems as the ultimate status symbol. When I was very young, there was an NES in the house. However, it was designated as belonging to the family and was mostly played by my older sister. (That is until a pet cat chew through one of the cords, rendering the system unplayable.) A friend of mine owned a Super Nintendo, which I coveted greatly. However, there was one game system which I desired more then any other: The Sega Genesis, known overseas as the Megadrive.

The reasons why I lusted after the Genesis so much are easy to determine. Sega’s advertisements positioned the Genesis as a hipper, edgier console over its competition. In truth, the Super Nintendo had a stronger graphics card, more memory, better sound, and a library of games filled with genuine classics. That didn’t matter to five year old Zack Clopton back in 1993. I totally bought every line about Blast Processing, every promise that Sega does what Nintendon’t. The goal of these commercials was to make the Genesis seem like the badass of the home console world. Nintendo, meanwhile, was for babies. It worked, at least on me.

Yet even that wasn’t the real reason why I desired a Genesis. Last week, the internet celebrated the 25th anniversary of Sonic the Hedgehog. As a kid, I was obsessed with Sega’s blue mascot with ‘tube. The comic book and cartoon shows fostered such a love for the character and his world, one that shamefully continues to this day, that I had to start a whole other blog to figure out why. I happily consumed the comics and loved the Saturday morning series but knew Sonic began his life as a video game character. For years, I only played the games at a friend's home or in store display room. Finally, in 1995 at the age of seven, I received a Genesis for Christmas. Afterwards, I spent hours playing many of the “Sonic” games, with the second one quickly emerging as my favorite.

You’ll notice that this blog isn’t called “Video Game Thoughts.” Back in the mid-nineties, I didn’t read reviews. Magazines and probably even some early websites existed devoted to parsing out which video games were good and which were crap. Nowadays, I know that video games based off of movies or television shows are not traditionally well regarded. When I was a kid, I was drawn to games inspired by film. What young cinema fan wouldn’t be? Who wouldn’t love a chance to play through their favorite movies or shows?  Naturally, I wound up with quite a few digital adaptations of cinematic creations. Some of these games, I would later realize, weren’t very good. Back then, I would play them over and over again, mining hours of entertainment from products of sometimes questionable quality.

Such as, for example, the video game based off “The Pagemaster.” The film, which I’m a fan of, was a box office flop in its day. I don’t think the video game was much more widely seen. As a kid, I liked the opening level, which took place in a spooky castle, featuring lots of ghosts and skulls. Playing the game as an adult, I realize the controls are slippery, the game mechanics are sometimes confusing, and the level designs are non-intuitive. Not everything you enjoyed as a kid will stand up to scrutiny as an adult. This is the sort of lesson you have to learn when you’re a nostalgia addict.

Some of those Sega games, on the other hand, hold up alright. The Disney Animated Features of the day were often accompanied by video game adaptations. While these rarely stand as crowning achievements for the art form, a few of them weren’t too bad. “Aladdin” is actually one of the best selling games for the Genesis. The game play is often repetitive but the artwork is vibrant and the action is exciting enough. Mostly, I just loved revisiting the film’s world and being able to see more of it. The same could be said of “The Lion King” game, also developed by Virgin Interactive. By switching between Simba as a cab and an adult, the game provided some variety. The stages, which included the elephant graveyard and the wildebeest stampede, could become very intense. Even the weaker levels did their best to recreate the film’s gorgeous artwork.

Of course, not all of the Sega games with the Disney brand were that good. “The Jungle Book” is a solid enough platformer. It’s also has colorful, faithful graphics. However, the difficulty level was a bit too steep for me as a kid. There are so many enemies that your health meter is quickly drained. At least Mogwli’s 16 bit adventure was more memorable then “The Little Mermaid” game. I mostly recall the confusingly laid out stage and lack of weapons in that game. “The Beauty and the Beast” game, meanwhile, only sticks with me because I could never make it pass the first level. I’ve never had especially admirable gaming skills but I don’t feel the need to revisit these cartridges too often.

When “Toy Story” came out in 1995, it naturally was accompanied by a video game adaptation. The Sega port did an okay job of copying the film’s computer graphics, to the best of the Genesis’ ability. The game often changed format, including a first person perspective on one level and a driving level with terrible controls. Despite that, I still wanted the “Toy Story” video game so much. That December, it was on all the Christmas wish lists sent out to each family member. On the 25th, my dear grandmother happily handed me a wrapped gift shaped like a Genesis box. I unwrapped the package to find… The Sega Genesis game “Toys,” based off the Robin Williams’ movie of the same name. As debatable as the film’s merits are, the game is far worst. That Christmas represents one of the earliest times I can recall being forced to swallow my disappointment and smile at a gift I didn't want.

I frequently played two Sega Genesis games that were based off at-the-time popular cartoon shows that were, nevertheless, built around film references. This made perfect sense for “Animaniacs,” as the show usually parodied both new and classic movies. That video game, by the way, is alright. Being able to switch between the three Warner siblings, each one with a different ability, is mildly innovative. The artwork, meanwhile, is colorful and memorable. I especially loved the horror movie inspired stage. “Garfield: Caught in the Act” also featured a horror stage. The graphics weren’t as bold but they still featured a handful of amusing sights. That game wasn’t nearly as interesting, being a far more standard platformer. I was never able to beat it due to a glitch in the third stage, where the boss just leaves the game.

As I’ve mentioned before, sometimes just browsing the video game section at a video rental place was an experience unto itself. I usually stuck to titles I was familiar with. My local video store had a fairly small Sega Genesis selection and rarely got in new games. This meant I would often rent the same titles over and over again. This was how I was able to master “Dynamite Headdy” before I even owned a couple. Occasionally, my hand would hover over a movie-related game repeatedly without ever renting it. “Moonwalker” intrigued me but I wasn’t a big enough Michael Jackson fan to ever take that plunge. “Toxic Crusaders,” meanwhile, mildly interested me. Even as a kid though, I kind of suspected that video game sucked. When I played the game years later, that assumption was proven correct. “Moonwalker,” meanwhile, is a mildly entertaining game, worth playing if only for its bizarre novelty value.

I still have my original Sega Genesis, by the way. It’s a model two that still functions perfectly. Today, you can take a brand new video game system out of the box and it’ll die immediately. Back in the nineties, you could throw one down the stairs and you’d still be able to plug it in and play it. Occasionally, I even acquire a game I never had as a kid. “Splatterhouse 2” was probably too explicitly gory and creepy for my childhood eyes. As an adult, I love the way it mashes up different eighties horror flicks, essentially creating a video game where Jason Voorhees fights the Evil Dead. “RoboCop vs. Terminator,” meanwhile, I didn’t even knew existed back then. That game is fun too, though far from perfect. Again, there’s something to be said about getting to see RoboCop blast away legions of T-800s. It’s certainly something you’ll never see in a movie.

I know this wasn’t the most insightful Memories essay. Much like playing them, writing about video games is a tricky art form. The truth is, outside of the titles I mentioned here, I didn’t play that many other Genesis games. I didn’t play classics of the system like “Gunstar Heroes” or “Castlevania: Bloodlines” until I was much older. (Sorry, I couldn’t find a way to connect childhood favorites like “Battletoads & Double Dragon” or “Eternal Champions” to this blog’s theme.) The quality of the games wasn’t always sterling but the Genesis and its many titles remain a source of nostalgia for me. While many people love “Dark Souls” or “Overwatch,” I wouldn’t even know what to do with those. A bit of the ol’ Blast Processing and that simple black box were always enough for me.

In the beginning... There was Sonic

“Does the Internet really need another “Sonic the Hedgehog” website?” I ask myself now. Over the course of nearly twenty years, over fifty games, and myriad of multi-media merchandise, crossovers, and spin-offs, the “Sonic the Hedgehog” franchise has inspired a lot of inane internet babble. So, is more necessary? You could fill several very large, spelling error riddled tomes with all the message board chatter concerning the little blue hedgehog. Is the internet really big enough for two twenty something man-children obsessed with Sonic? Isn’t it enough that I all ready have one blog I ignore?

Yes. Yes, it is. While many have gone where I am about to go before, few have done it well. That’s the mission statement here at “Hedgehogs Can’t Swim.” To be nerdy about Sonic in a way that’s at least halfway coherent, occasionally intelligent, and maybe clever or insightful every once in a while. Inspired by William Tsutsui’s “Godzilla on My Mind” and Rob Kelly’s “Aquaman Shrine,” both literate, thoughtful, sincere fan boy homages to two other, perhaps equally maligned pop culture icons, I set out to blaze my own path in the world of nerd brain housekeeping.

But let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?

I am a “Sonic the Hedgehog” nerd. Obviously. I’ve been since I was three years old and, like a cartoon hedgehog racing towards a goal post, I’ve never stopped. Despite what you may have heard, it was never cool and it was certainly never "way past cool." I was there before the internet subcultures adopted the franchise to their own seedy uses. I was there before the games became awful, before the fan base became unpleasable, before video gaming itself became a massive pillar of pop culture. Before all of that, I was a “Sonic the Hedgehog” nerd.

Honestly, my fandom for the furry blue one goes back so far, I don’t even remember how it started. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t a Sonic fan. My first vivid memory of him involves catching the 1993 ABC Saturday Morning Preview the Friday night it premiered.

I remember the kids from “Step By Step” sitting down to watch an episode of SatAM and being glued to my seat. It’s tempting to say my mania for everything Sonic started with SatAM. It certainly intensified my growing fandom, but it wasn’t the beginning. Why would I be so excited for a “Sonic” cartoon unless I was all ready a fan? When I asked my mother about this, about why, when, and how I first became a fan, she simply said, “You just always liked that fast, little blue, cool guy.” That may be true, but it’s not exactly insightful.

It wasn’t the games that hooked me first. I grew up in a part of the country that has been in an economic freefall for the last fifty years. As a child, my mother worked very hard to make sure my sister and I never went without anything we needed. But money was tight, at least in the beginning, and we often went without things we wanted. Video gaming consoles were, and still are, an expensive hobby that we simply couldn’t afford. I didn’t get a Sega Genesis and my first Sonic game until 1996, when that generation of console gaming was well on its way out. Yes, I played the games and experienced the Blast Processing first hand at friend’s houses, but, to tell the truth, I wasn’t, nor have I ever been, particularly good at video games. I fail pretty hard in that department.

So the How and When of my fandom’s genesis (Har.) remains a mystery, lost in the hazy mist of childhood days long since past. But what about the why? Why Sonic? Why not Mario, an even bigger video game icon whose current games are certainly better and arguably always have been? We had a Nintendo Entertainment System and a copy of “Super Mario Bros. 3” long before I ever got my sweaty little hands on a Genesis controller. Why not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Power Ranges, Spider-Man, comic books, anime, Universal Monster movies, action figures, Ghostbusters, Highlander, Transformers, Star Trek, or any number of other things I enjoy as a child? Why does Sonic get the blog and everything else I’ve loved get left to other people to chronicle and obsess over?

Was it the contempt for authority and ecological subtext that appealed to me? The bright colors, fast graphics, and intentionally simple character designs? Did I enjoy being a part of a quickly growing, now sprawling, fictional universe? Was it just me getting swept up in the kid friendly zeitgeist of the moment? Probably all of those things. But why am I still a fan? Why do I still play the games, read the comics, and spend way more time then any adult male should ever spend thinking about these things? Am I just being nostalgic for simpler childhood days? Does my lack of legitimate life experiences force me to go over again and again the pop culture debris I’ve consumed over the course of twenty-two years? Am I just a really massive Aspie nerd who relates to a cartoon animal way more then he does to other people?

Yes, yes, and probably, a little bit, yes. However I got here, I’m here to stay, at least for a while.

My name is Zack, this is “Hedgehogs Can’t Swim,” and I’m here to talk about goddamn Sonic the Hedgehog.