Plot
The gang stages a big musical revue in Spanky's cellar ("6 Acts of Swell Actin," reads a sign above the cellar door). Spanky, as the master of ceremonies, persuades the neighborhood kids through song to come to the show, which includes performances by a miniature chorus line, a trio of farm girls, a group of kids dressed as skeletons, and featured spots for Alfalfa and a new girl named Cookie.
Backstage, there is pandemonium involving Buckwheat's dealings with a mischievous little monkey, as well as Spanky's worrying over his star act, the Flory-Dory Girls, whose tardiness forces the would-be impresario to keep shuffling his acts. When the show reaches its final act with still no sign of the Flory-Dories, Spanky has the other boys dress in the Flory-Dories' costumes. Since he knows the girls' dance, Spanky figures the gang can pull off the act in drag if everyone just does what he does. Unknown to Spanky, however, the monkey that was terrorizing Buckwheat has hidden in the bustle of Spanky's costume. The monkey pulls a needle from the costume during the dance and begins stabbing Spanky in the rear, and the other boys mimic his out-of-character jolts of pain and discomfort to the audience's amusement. Spanky manages to accidentally shake his dress to the floor, and the other boys follow suit, ruining the act as the audience roars with laughter.
Cookie tries to bring down the curtain, but only succeeds in trapping the boys in front of the curtain, causing them to scramble underneath as Spanky closes out the show (with the curtain hiding his corset, garters and lace leggings) and sends the audience of kids home.
Read more about this topic: Our Gang Follies Of 1936
Famous quotes containing the word plot:
“If you need a certain vitality you can only supply it yourself, or there comes a point, anyway, when no one’s actions but your own seem dramatically convincing and justifiable in the plot that the number of your days concocts.”
—John Ashbery (b. 1927)
“James’s great gift, of course, was his ability to tell a plot in shimmering detail with such delicacy of treatment and such fine aloofness—that is, reluctance to engage in any direct grappling with what, in the play or story, had actually “taken place”Mthat his listeners often did not, in the end, know what had, to put it in another way, “gone on.””
—James Thurber (1894–1961)
“Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme—
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?”
—Robert Lowell (1917–1977)