Ride Him, Bosko 1932

Under a full moon, a coyote watches over a lonely mountaintop and lets out a long, eerie howl. The creature takes a deep breath, his form puffing up as if inflated by invisible air, and then releases another resonant howl that cuts through the night.

Bosko rides a cheerful horse, strumming a banjo and singing the old cowboy tune “When the Bloom is on the Sage.” The horse balks at a stubborn rock in the path, forcing Bosko to slide off and help push the animal over the barrier before they can press on.

The mood shifts to a black screen where words appear as the music changes to a piano rendition of “She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain.” The transition signals a new vignette: a road outside a saloon, where shadows in the windows hint at revelry inside. A quick, chaotic gun chase erupts nearby, and a passer-by is knocked aside by a flying bottle of beer. A comically tall cowboy struts down the road, only to have the middle of his body shot away, shrinking him down to the size of a dwarf.

Bosko arrives on the scene just as his horse collapses beside the curb. He strides toward the saloon on the opposite side of the road, opens the doors with a jaunty “Howdy,” and is met with a volley of gunfire. The patrons greet him with a chorus of “Hi Bosko,” and Bosko laughs with a touch of nervous bravado. He retrieves his bullet-riddled hat and steps inside, where a three-piece band—banjo, violin, and piano—keep a lively tempo as they play the same tune. The moment is playful and chaotic: the piano player hammers the keys so hard that a mug of beer streaks through the air, pours into the player’s mouth, and, in a comic twist, causes his clothes to burst into flames. His clothes vanish, leaving him in bloomers, lips puckered with lipstick, and a coy, crossed-knee pose as he saunters away.

At the piano, Bosko continues to drive the rhythm as he taps his feet and rocks the bench in time with the music. A set of four playing cards—King, Jack, Queen, and Joker—appears in someone’s hand. They sing briefly, then the Joker is shot, deflating the performance into a moment of audience laughter. Bosko remains at the piano, the scene swirling with dancers around him as the music swells.

Honey, Bosko’s sweetheart, enters a separate high-speed sequence: a carriage rushing along a bumpy highway with a large trunk strapped to its roof. The ride tosses Honey about, and she urges the driver to be careful. A gang of highwaymen lurks nearby, moving stealthily along a cliff as they scout for a target. They strike as the carriage speeds past, guns blazing, but the trunk finally slips loose and its contents spill out—the clothes themselves taking on a life of their own, hotly escaping the hail of bullets in a comic scramble. A corset literally flies off into the air.

Inside the carriage, the driver is hurled from his perch and crashes onto a tall cactus, sliding down as hundreds of thorns cling to him. The rattled rider tumbles onto the skeleton of a bull, which unexpectedly revives and bolts away with the rider clinging on for dear life.

Back at the saloon, the driver staggers in, deflates dramatically, and collapses into his own pants, dipping a mug into the beer and pouring it over himself for a final comic beat.

[Bosko] mounts his horse again and gallops to the rescue, his steed vaulting effortlessly over the rocks that once slowed them. The bandits press the pursuit, and Honey leans from a window, pleading for Bosko to save her. The chase intensifies as Bosko churns forward, closing the distance with a burst of speed.

The frame then widens to show the cartoon’s makers—Hugh Harman, Norman Blackburn, and Rudy Ising—watching the action and providing sound effects. Ising leans in with a quizzical question about how to spur Bosko to act, Harman admits he’s not sure what to do, and Ising suggests they need to do something. Blackburn sighs and decides they should go home, and with that, the trio exits, leaving Bosko to his fate in the lurching, sunlit chase.