Bosko in Person: A strange, rubbery trip back to early animation

Is it worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for 1930s animation history, maybe. If you are looking for a cohesive story, look somewhere else.

This is strictly for people who want to see how cartoons used to be drawn before everything became so polished and predictable. It’s definitely not for anyone who hates old-timey, scratchy audio.

Watching Bosko in Person feels like catching a fever dream in a dusty theater. The whole thing is just a stage act, which is a nice change of pace from the usual 'Bosko wandering in the woods' trope.

The animation is bendy in that specific way only early Looney Tunes could manage. You know, where limbs turn into noodles and faces stretch like bubblegum whenever a character gets excited.

The celebrity impressions are the main deal here. They try to do Maurice Chevalier and Jimmy Durante, but it’s mostly just Bosko making a weird face and the audience—the drawn audience, that is—going nuts.

The Greta Garbo bit? It’s a bit of a reach. Honestly, it’s a little creepy.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Bosko in Person (1933) through its definitive frames.

I couldn't help but compare the energy here to something like Blotto, where the chaos feels a little more grounded. Here, things just sort of happen because they can.

There’s a moment where Bosko just transforms entirely, and it’s impressive if you think about the labor involved, but it also makes you wonder what the point of the character is if he’s just going to be someone else.

The backgrounds are surprisingly plain. They don't try to hide that this is a stage show, which I guess is honest.

My favorite bit? Probably just the sound of the piano. It’s got that tinny, upright-piano-in-a-basement quality that I personally love.

It’s a short watch. You won't regret the time, but you probably won't remember the jokes by tomorrow. 🎞️

It feels like a relic. And that’s okay.