Monday, October 25, 2010

The Adventures of Superpup



Year: 1958
Seasons: None
Episodes: 1 unaired pilot
Created By: Whitney Ellsworth

Main Cast

Billy Curtis as Bark Bent/Superpup
Ruth Delfino as Pamela Poodle
Angelo Rossitto as Terry Bite
Harry Monty as Professor Sheepdip
Frank Delfino as Sergeant Beagle
Sadie Delfino as Wolfingham/Montgomery Mouse

Quick, what do you do when the star of your superhero TV show commits suicide, eliminating the most recognizable and famous face for the title character? If your answer is, “replace the cast with midgets wearing gigantic dog heads and load it up with humor even a five year old would find unsophisticated,” congratulations. You’re qualified to be a TV producer, if the unaired pilot for The Adventures of Superpup is any indication.

This odd concept for a TV show was done in a rush after the unfortunate suicide of the first famous Superman actor, George Reeves. Because Superman has always appealed to kids, the producers decided to make Superman even more kid-friendly by changing the entire cast with dogs and giving them dog names. Therefore, Clark Kent is now Bark Bent, Lois Lane is now Pamela Poodle, and The Daily Planet is now The Daily Bugle (I’ve heard good things about their photographer, though the anti-superhero slant of their stories is troubling, to say the least). Because regular-sized people wearing oversized dog heads would look ridiculous, the producers opted for a cast of midgets for all the roles, leading to strange sights like Bent’s boss Terry Bite climbing on top of his desk to talk to Bark and Pamela. If this wasn’t enough, a really horrendous-looking mouse puppet lives in Bark’s desk, and his purpose in the show is to both tell the viewer what’s going on and to occasionally make bad jokes. The unaired pilot that I saw is included on the amazingly comprehensive DVD set Superman Ultimate Collector’s Edition, and is half color, half black and white. I’m not too sure why only half is in color, but I like to imagine that the producers knew they had a piece of shit on their hands and just said “fuck it” in the middle of colorizing the damn thing.

The story starts out in the office of the Daily Bugle, with Bark Bent, Pamela Poodle, and their boss Terry Bite talking about how great Superpup is. The plot proper involves the evil Professor Sheepdip escaping from jail via a hacksaw. His bumbling partner somehow has the keys for the outer door and after a painfully long gag of him not being able to find the right key, lets him out. This kickstarts a drawn-out race between Sergeant Beagle and the evil duo. When they finally get back to Sheepdip’s lair he pours some green food coloring and Alka-Seltzer to a glass of water, which creates an atomic explosion when a paper airplane gets dipped in it and chucked out a window. This potion is then carelessly poured into a bottle with a fuse, and is then given to the dumbass sidekick to sneak into the Daily Bugle using a grandfather clock as a disguise. Because everyone is wearing oversized dog heads, no one much notices or cares when the walking clock comes in. It’s so brazen about it’s entry that it doesn’t even bother trying to sneak it, rather, it uses the main entrance. It moseys around the Daily Bugle until it’s sitting directly in front of Terry Bite’s desk. After fucking around trying to find a light for the fuse, dumbass sidekick gets out of the clock and asks Terry for a light, which Terry grumblingly provides. Realizing that he just got “tricked,” he calls for Bark Bent to come in and get rid of the clock (why would a reporter be called in to do such a job?). Bent then springs into action and becomes Superpup! After chucking a bunch of random crap out the window for comedic effect, he finally realizes that the huge, inappropriately-placed grandfather clock may be the danger, so he grabs it and flies out the window. Superpup then tricks the dumbass sidekick into giving him his address by asking him for his address, and once given that information proceeds to drop the entire clock on Sheepdip’s HQ. The bottle of colored water that previously caused an atomic blast with a ridiculously small amount now only has the power to blast open the clock and leave both Sheepdip and dumbass sidekick laying on their backs, confused and sad.



Onto Plan B. Sheepdip decides to kidnap Pamela Poodle by inviting her over for tea. She comes over and is promptly jostled about by the nefarious criminals. They then tie her up to a rocket pointed at the moon and light the fuse, since they’re dicks and just like fucking with people for no reason (they don’t ask for a ransom or anything, so “they’re just dicks” seems like the only explanation for this scheme). Superpup arrives, unties Pamela, and instead of breaking the fuse or somehow stopping the rocket from going off, he just leaves. The rocket then “shoots” into the air, and remains stationary on a gray background while sparks shoot out the end. To indicate that it’s actually flying and in the air, the rocket sometimes turns creakily downwards on a slant. For some reason, the rocket smashes into the bad guy’s getaway car, once again leaving them dazed and sad. This time Sergeant Beagle shows up and arrests them, Superpup flies off, Pamela fawns over how awesome he is, and Terry just kinda stands around looking pissed. The announcer promises further awesomeness with the following message: “be with us again next week when your product, the best of it’s kind in the world, presents Superpup!”

If the plot summary didn’t make it clear, this pilot sucks ass, and is only worth watching if you’re a fan of “so bad it’s good” entertainment. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it falls into that category, but it certainly was an interesting experience. The cheapness of everything is pretty glorious, and the way the dog heads remain expressionless does a great job of preventing the viewer from forming any kind of attachment to these characters. The humor is pretty dismal, but there was one scene that I thought was legitimately funny. The bad guys are driving away after lighting the rocket, and the desk mouse pops up to explain why the car they’re using now is different from their getaway mobile. According to the mouse, it’s because they didn’t want to mess up their nice car. I thought this was a clever nod at how cheap this pilot was, so I have to give the producers credit for it.

Could it have been successful? The early years of television actually had quite a bit of creepy kids shows, and if I look at Superpup in the context of Clutch Cargo and those fucking marionettes that kept swinging around in various children’s programing, it doesn’t seem that out of place. I don’t imagine the scripts would have gotten any better, and the humor would probably have stayed at the same idiotic level as it was in the pilot. Thus, if the show actually made it on the air and became a hit, it probably would enjoy a cult following today among fans of creepy kids shows. I think the show works best in its current form, as an incomplete non-starter. It was painful enough just watching one of these fucking things. I don’t think I could stand an entire season of it.

Recommended for: Diehard Superman fans, midget acting aficionados, dog lovers, parents who hate their children.

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