Two Weeks Vacation 1952

Goofy [Pinto Colvig] is seen in a crowded office, his eyes already drifting to a daydream of paid freedom. He envisions a grand, multi-stop vacation: fishing at Fond du Lac, sunrise in the Rockies, basking on the beach, dude ranching, golfing, boating, and hunting in the North Woods. The moment the clock strikes noon, he bolts from the office to his red car and takes to the highway, launching into a string of travel misadventures that come with a sly, sardonic narration from the film’s running commentator, the narrator [Alan Reed].

From the start, a white slow-moving travel trailer pulled by a yellow car becomes an unyielding rival, somehow always just a half step ahead and relentless in causing trouble. The first clash occurs when a milk bottle falls from the trailer’s platform, smashing into Goofy’s tire and motor and forcing him into a roadside workshop for repairs. Inside the shop, the mechanic digs through the engine with comic chaos, tossing out parts until a faked grand finale: a new motor is proclaimed essential, then stashed away in a trunk. After the motor is supposedly fixed, Goofy pays and leaves—only for the shop to shut down for two weeks, leaving him to wrestle the tire himself when the trailer reappears. The trailer’s intrusion grows more brazen as Goofy works, and a traveler he offers a lift to declines the ride, citing the car’s shortcomings—no radio, no heater, lackluster paint, and thin tires.

A stopped-at-light moment amplifies the slapstick pattern: Goofy nears a red light and, defying the rule, manages a quick hop in front of it. A rain cloud unloads over his car while the light surprisingly switches to green, allowing the trailer to slip by. When he attempts another pass, dust shoots from the trailer’s door, blinding him and sending his car off the road into a tree, giving the trailer another victory lap.

Night falls, and Goofy searches for lodging. He strikes a match to read a sign, but the glow is too faint; he uses a carjack to raise the car high enough to shine the lights on the sign and discover that hotels are down the road, or back the way he came. He pivots, only to find all the hotels occupied—except one, which turns out to be a picturesque front for a plain cabin. His luck sours again when a train jolts him awake, and he trudges on through the night, a parade of passing cars flashing by as he fights fatigue. The trailer keeps returning to frame him, and he watches as people inside the trailer party as if they own a world apart from the road.

Eventually Goofy earns a brief, improbable escape by driving along a cliff face to overtake the trailer, and when he finally shouts at the driver, there is no one behind the wheel. The car speeds away, but the trailer spins out of control, and Goofy is knocked out of his own car and into the trailer’s vehicle. He discovers he’s now the one driving the trailer, catching a slow-moving version of his own car as it falls behind, only to be apprehended by a police officer for speeding. The final frame lands him in jail, and, curiously, he ends the day content, finding the “perfect haven for rest and relaxation” in confinement.

The gag-driven journey unfolds as a collage of roadside trials, each scene layering mishap upon misfortune while the sarcastic narrator’s commentary threads through Goofy’s stubborn optimism. The screenplay leans into the charm of its vaudeville roots, presenting a succession of near-misses, comic reversals, and visual gags that keep the momentum brisk and the humor accessible. At each turn, Goofy clings to his dream of a carefree holiday, even as the world seems determined to turn that dream into a running gag about the unpredictability of travel. The film’s rhythm thrives on the contrast between Goofy’s earnest, almost naïve enthusiasm and the world’s uncooperative quirks, creating a lighthearted, endlessly retrying protagonist whose misadventures push him toward an uneasy, humorous resolution: a vacation that never quite lands the way he planned, yet leaves him with a uniquely personal sense of respite in the most unlikely of places.