The DU Lounge

In the late forties Americans were anxious to embrace peacetime but Khrushchev’s bomb tests weren’t helping. Lighter than light entertainment was required and the story of Francis—World War II seen through the comforting lens of a fairy tale—fit the bill. The mule evolved into a legitimate franchise; Stern published Francis Goes to Washington in 1948 and his creation went on to dominate newsstands in both comic books and a newspaper strip. It was high time for Francis to go to the movies and that film, titled just Francis, went into production in the summer of 1949 and was released in February of 1950.

Francis was directed by steadfast company man Arthur Lubin who had an affinity for animals, both four-legged and human (he helmed 1951’s Rhubarb about a baseball-loving feline and directed a feral Gale Sondergaard in 1946’s The Spider Woman Strikes Back). Heading the cast was Donald O’Connor as Peter Stirling, a Second Lieutenant on patrol in Burma who finds himself lost behind enemy lines. A stray army mule rescues the chuckle-headed soldier who discovers the animal is blessed with more than just a heroic nature—he can talk (the mule’s dialog was spoken by the outsized Chill Wills—a good old boy known for braying his lines when he wasn’t barking them).

This army mule is named Francis and he’s no jackass—thanks to his free-roaming status as a barnyard animal, he has easy access to unsuspecting enemy forces and their battle plans—by using Francis’ skills as an undercover donkey, Peter gains a reputation as a genius-level military strategist. Stirling’s problem is that, unlike the stubborn donkey, he can’t keep his mouth shut. His straightforward explanations as to the source of his information—”A mule told me”—lead to more than one appointment with the staff psychiatrist. When the going gets rough for his human friend, Francis reveals his true nature and Peter is exonerated. The end.