Bugs Bunny, Wartime Icon

Bob Clampett once remarked to historian Mike Barrier “Bugs Bunny ... has never been loved the way he was during those war years ... Bugs Bunny was a symbol of America's resistance to Hitler and the fascist powers.”

Clampett may have a point, judging by a series of columns that appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer in early November 1942. The columnist’s subject was the war-time prosperity that hit the city; at times, his monologue reads like something out of a B detective novel. But among the things he talks about is Bugs Bunny. The press didn’t generally mention the rabbit back then, and then generally only when discussing film releases. These columns are one of very few places where there’s a reference to him relating to popular culture.

I’ve snipped out irrelevant text about crowded trolleys, tramping across city courtyards and “smoking with artificial nonchalance,” sticking instead to his copy involving Warners’ top cartoon star.

Money in Their Pockets
By FRANK BROOKHOUSER
THE PHILADELPHIA tune in tumultuous days of war is "Jingle, Jangle, Jingle."
It is a tune played on the cash registers of a city that has struck an unprecedented bonanza, a bonanza manufactured in far away countries by the evil ambitions of the world's No. 1 and No. 2 public enemies, Hitler and Hirohito.
It is a city which has a new cinema idol, an idol who is as rollicking and rambunctious as the people feel after a tough day's work, a rabbit named Bugs Bunny, who is the fair-haired boy of the cartoon shorts. A buck-toothed rabbit, who chews carrots, wants to know "What's cookin', Doc?" and is as tough and talkative as the Army and Navy will have to be to beat the Axis.
They both came in with the war, the boom and Bugs Bunny. ...
IN THE days before the little from the Land of the Rising Sun finally touched off the slow-rising tempter of America, Philadelphians waited for the good movies to reach the neighborhoods, legitimate theatre owners watched Broadway with bated breath for a big hit, and the Mastbaum was a colossal "white elephant."

Now, with money jangling in their pockets, Philadelphians hurry into the central city cinema palaces because the price differential is no consideration ...
Favorite spot of the service men is the Earle, where there are stage shows. The choice in pictures ranges from one extreme to another—something topical like "Wake Island" to genuine escape. And Bugs Bunny. Because we're not forgetting that carrot-chewing gentleman. He's the tough guy, typical of the feeling of the times. He doesn't get a cent for his work but he'll get the marquee before the cinema guys and dolls with big contracts.
"If we have to leave out an important star to make room for a 'Bugs Bunny Short', we'll do it every time," one official said.
SCORES of theatres have special 30-minute shows of Bugs Bunny cartoons periodically, presumably for the children.
"And if we advertise in advance," an official said, "the adult business always climbs."
It's all a part of changing Philadelphia, a great gold rush which resounds day and night to the tune of "Jingle, Jangle, Jingle," as the cash registers click merrily away.
And when Bugs Bunny gnaws at his carrot he has them in a fancy cigarette case now, his latest short reveals; no doubt a sign of the opulent times and asks, "What's cookin', Doc?" he isn't simply making conversation.
It's plenty, brother. Plenty in a city of plenty, a city of power, a city made lusty and loud by the evil ambitions of the gangsters Hitler and Hirohito.

Plenty of Warner Bros. cartoon characters were part of the war effort, in a way. Daffy Duck bashed Hitler with a mallet. Porky Pig blew up a “Nutzy” spy. Heads of the “Ducktators” ended up mounted on a wall thanks to an unpeaceful dove of peace. The Fuhrer fizzled against some gremlins that looked suspiciously like Leon Schlesinger’s staff. Bugs was in there, too, coming out on top of Hitler, Goering and the Japanese fleet in various cartoons. And it was about the time the war came around that he surpassed Porky Pig as the studio’s number one star and stayed that way until, well in a way, even today.