n 1967, Harvey Birdman (Cole) had it all. Granted super powers by no less a personage than Ra, the Sun God, he became Birdman, flying, solar-powered superhero. He lived in a hidden volcano base with his pet eagle, Avenger, and worked for a mysterious government agency fighting evildoers like Vulturo, Nitron the Human Bomb and Dr. Freezoids. He was part Superman, part James Bond in wings and a silly mask. It totally rocked.
But time has not been kind to Birdman. After 40 episodes, his TV show was canceled. The superhero game was taken over by better animated characters. Looking for a career change, Harvey ended up an attorney in the law firm of Sebbin & Sebbin, where he handles cases for other cartoon characters. Avenger still works as Birdman's assistant, along with sociopathic clerk Peanut (Thomas Allen), also winged, and presumably Birdman's former sidekick Birdboy, though the show never addresses this. Harvey's job is made more difficult by the number of former enemies who have also taken up the law. More often than not he ends up arguing cases against the paranoid, shrink-ray-armed Reducto (Colbert) before Judge Mentok the Mindtaker (Higgins).
But, while Harvey seems doomed to remain an unappreciated minor cog at his firm, there's no shortage of cartoon characters in need of his help. When Dr. Benton Quest's "longtime companion," Race Bannon, sues for custody of Jonny and Hadji, when Fred Flintstone gets caught up in a mob investigation, when the cops assume Shaggy and Scooby are stoned, when minor Super Friend Apache Chief has his crotch scalded by too-hot coffee and loses his ability to ... you know, "grow large at will," Harvey Birdman is there to take the case.
This attractively slipcased two-disc set includes the first 13 episodes of Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. The episodes—roughly 10 minutes each—offer no alternate-language tracks, but do include French and Spanish subtitles. Creators Ouweleen and Richter provide commentary tracks on four episodes. Even Cartoon Network's legal and standards and practices departments get into the act with a second commentary track on one episode. Other goodies feature some deleted scenes and alternate voice tests for some characters. There's even some live-action Birdman silliness featuring an actor in suit, mask and blue foam wings. These include an extended version of a live-action sequence from one episode (a seaside romantic interlude with a human-sized can of Tab, no less), a live-action version of the show's opening and a trailer for an imaginary Harvey Birdman movie.
Resampling 50 years of Saturdays
Adult Swim is partially Cartoon Network's effort to mine the enormous Hanna-Barbera back catalog that fell into its lap through a series of mergers and acquisitions. This library includes cartoon legends like The Flintstones, The Jetsons, Jonny Quest and Scooby-Doo. But most of it is Saturday morning dreck from decades past, shows like Moby Dick and the Mighty Mightor, Hong Kong Phooey and, indeed, Birdman and the Galaxy Trio. What to do with these shows?
The answer was to re-market them to adults who grew up on them—in situations more in keeping with those adults' lives, and heavy on the irony. Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law is the most ambitious of these projects, drawing on the entire cast of Hanna-Barbera characters. It also focuses a little more on story than other Adult Swim shows. But not much more. There's plenty of random nonsense, and Harvey's case is often jettisoned along the way.
The show evolves over the course of this set. Early episodes draw mainly on Hanna-Barbera's big guns and tend to be very high-concept, like the aforementioned Jonny Quest, The Flintstones and Scooby-Doo episodes. They're sort of like articles from The Onion where the joke's in the headline and the article itself struggles to keep up. Gradually, the show shifts to more obscure guest stars and has to focus more on characters and on Birdman himself. This produces episodes like "Devlin Made Me Do It," in which obscure 1970s stuntman hero Devlin—now a fat maniac full of metal plates and steel pins, out of his mind on painkillers—is sued when a young fan disastrously imitates one of his motorcycle jumps.
Is all this funny? Frequently, yes. But it's spotty. In particular, the writers need to work on the concept of the running gag. (The important word is "gag." You don't make any random saying—like "Did you get that thing I sent you?"—funny simply by repeating it over and over again without any context.) Still, for every instance of Dude Humor, or random nonsense we're meant to laugh at because the show seems to think it's funny, there's a gem like Birdman's frequent courtroom opponent Reducto.
On balance, yes, Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law's strengths outweigh its weaknesses. And, despite generally lacking extras (the idea of having the censors and lawyers do a commentary track is inspired, but there's a reason these guys aren't usually on-camera talent), this set is worth picking up.
