“The secret in animating is first to have an everlasting sense of humor, next to be able to see the commonplace in a funny way and most important of all, to be able to sketch your idea so that the other person will think it’s funny.“—Tex Avery, The Dallas Morning News, 1933

At the start of Fred “Tex” Avery’s RED HOT RIDING HOOD (‘43), the Wolf, Red Riding Hood and even Grandma rebel against a traditional rendering of the classic fairy tale and threaten to quit the cartoon right then and there. “Every cartoon studio in Hollywood has done it this way,” Red complains. “I’m pretty sick of it myself,” Grandma chimes in. And just like that, something new had been added, with a cat-calling, zoot-suit-bedecked Wolf cruising Hollywood Blvd.; Red Hot Riding Hood (aka that Sweetheart of Swing) knockin’ ‘em dead at a Hollywood night club; and a slang-slinging Grandma (“Hiya cousin, what’s buzzin?’”) waiting for a wolf of her own in her penthouse digs.

RED HOT RIDING HOOD kicks off TCM’s early morning tribute to Tex Avery, which will easily be the funniest thing you see all day. The cartoons will be preceded by John Needham’s British documentary TEX AVERY: KING OF CARTOONS (‘88). It is an ideal primer into the Avery-verse that charts his legendary career from high school cartoonist through his tenures with Walter Lantz Productions, Warner Bros. and MGM. Along with a generous sampling of clips from his Warner Bros. and MGM cartoons, there are priceless interviews with equally legendary colleagues such as Chuck Jones, Heck Allen and Mike Lah, along with June Foray, the Queen of Cartoons and Joe Adamson, who wrote the essential book, also titled Tex Avery: King of Cartoons. (Coincidence, isn’t it?)

Needham told TCM he was encouraged to make the documentary by Chuck Jones, whom Needham had profiled for the BBC arts series, Omnibus. “He simply said, ‘We should make a film about Tex,” he said. As an Avery fan himself, Needham was all in. “I think it’s his ability to take a gag to the extremes and then take it further and then take it even further,” he said. “Chuck said that he could never copy Tex because he didn’t have a clue what Tex was doing, he just knew that he was a genius. I’m sure I don’t know either, but what he did was incredibly funny.”

The seven cartoons included in the TCM tribute meet the “incredibly funny” standard. They were produced for MGM. These are not as well known or as widely seen as his cartoons for Warner Bros., where, most notably, Avery directed A WILD HARE (’40), the cartoon that established Bugs Bunny’s brash personality. Avery was an outlier at the tony studio that boasted “more stars than there are in the heavens.” MGM did make sparkling and sophisticated romantic comedies directed by the likes of George Cukor and Ernst Lubitsch, but MGM was where clowns went to die.

Buster Keaton wrote in his memoir that signing with MGM was “the worst mistake” of his career. THE CAMERMAN (’28) was an auspicious beginning, but gradually, Keaton lost the lion’s share of his creative control, suffered studio interference and was partnered with Jimmy Durante. The Marx Brothers’ association with the studio likewise began promisingly with A NIGHT AT THE OPERA (‘35), but soon the iconoclastic highs of the brothers’ Paramount films were but a dim memory and the brothers were relegated to playing second fiddle to insipid romantic leads like Kenny Baker and Florence Rice in AT THE CIRCUS (‘39).

But MGM could not tame Tex Avery. Or perhaps studio execs didn’t think animation was worth the time and trouble to meddle with, allowing him to work unimpeded. The best of the cartoons he made for the studio between 1942-55 put the “mad” in madcap, if that’s your idea of a good time. In his book, Adamson observes: “No artist, in any century, on any continent, in any medium, has ever succeeded in creating his own universe as thoroughly and overwhelmingly as Tex Avery.”

You might say that a Tex Avery cartoon is like that proverbial box of chocolates; you never know what you’re going to get. “Say, what kind of a cartoon is this gonna be, anyway?” asks the title character in SCREWBALL SQUIRREL (‘44), another of the Avery 7 to be featured in TCM’s mini-Avery-palooza. Well, it’s NOT going to be a charming Disney-esque romp with adorable forest creatures. Screwball Squirrel sees to that when he takes one of them behind a tree and violently disposes of him, assuring the audience, “The funny stuff will start as soon as the phone rings.”

BAD LUCK BLACKIE and KING-SIZE CANARY, two masterpieces that are highlights of TCM’s Avery cartoon block, break all rules of the physical world and nature. In the former, a black cat brings instant bad karma each time he crosses the path of a bullying bulldog. At one point, the unfortunate pooch must dodge a succession of falling objects that escalate from a sink to a battleship. In the latter, a chase between a cat, mouse and dog escalates to gigantic proportions thanks to a bottle of Jumbo Gro.

What critic James Agee wrote about the Marx Brothers also applies to Avery in that even lesser Tex is better worth seeing than most other things I can think of. SYMPHONY IN SLANG (’51) is a succession of silly sight gags inspired by a hipster’s arrival at the Pearly Gates. He tells his life story to a befuddled Noah Webster, who pictures literal translations to such phrases as, “I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth,” “It was raining cats and dogs” and “I died laughing.”

SCREWBALL SQUIRREL features some great self-referential gags, such as the title character peeking ahead to the next scene to figure out what to do next. But the character was so obnoxious that he was actually killed off at the end of his fifth, and final, cartoon.

Avery’s influence is vast. When in THE LITTLE MERMAID (‘89), Sebastian’s jaw drops like an anvil when he spies Ariel nursing an injured Prince Eric, that’s a classic Tex Avery take. THE MASK (‘94) pays direct homage to RED HOT RIDING HOOD when Jim Carrey’s Mask man is undone by nightclub chanteuse Cameron Diaz. And the Tex Avery force is strong in Animaniacs’ helter-skelter pacing and fourth-wall breaking.

But there is nothing like the real thing. No one made cartoons that were loonier. The secret? As Avery told Joe Adamson, he didn’t think in terms of the age of his audience: “I tried to do something I thought I would laugh at if I were to see it on the screen.”