To my utter surprise, not only did I remember every episode I sampled, I even vividly recalled bits of dialogue, character reactions, and sight gags. To quote Col. Kurtz: "The horror. The horror."

Holly Ordway and Ian Jane reviewed The Flintstones -- The Complete First Season and Second Season, respectively. The show began as what basically was The Honeymooners with a caveman setting, the latter inspired by myriad one-shot theatrical cartoons. Like The Honeymooners, The Flintstones revolved around a blustery working man, Fred Flintstone (voiced by Alan Reed); his long-suffering wife, Wilma (Jean Vander Pyl); his goofy, Ed Norton-ish friend, Barney Rubble (Mel Blanc); and his wife, Betty (Bea Benaderet). Like Ralph Kramden, Fred belonged to an eccentric fraternal order (the Royal Order of Water Buffaloes, as opposed to Ralph and Ed's Raccoon Lodge), were big-time bowlers and always cooking up get-rich-quick schemes.

By its third year, aired during the 1962-63 season, The Flintstones had become decidedly suburbanized and domesticated. The Honeymooners template really didn't jibe in their world - Stone Age or not - one where Fred and Wilma enjoyed the comforts of their own home, car, and dishwasher. Where Ralph was basically a loser, Fred was a dedicated family man and middle class all the way. The prehistoric setting was all but meaningless by Year Three - stories never revolved around it, and instead jokes about caveman life were used as gags to begin and end scenes. Strangely, the show does have its share of fantasy episodes, such as this season's "Invisible Barney," but these almost never have anything to do with the Stone Age setting. (This would reach its absurd extreme in the show's last year, with the introduction of The Great Gazoo, a magical if acerbic E.T.)

The Flintstones third season settled firmly into domesticity, and in one sense "jumped the shark" with the conception (thankfully not shown) and birth of little Pebbles Flintstone, Fred and Wilma's baby girl. (In this regard, one anecdote on the extra features expresses just how quick Hanna-Barbera were to adapt to the needs of ancillary markets.) This story arc was unique to television animation, and though drippily sentimental at times also played to the show's strengths. Other highlights include "Dino Goes Hollyrock," which spoofs Lassie and show business excess: "The Twitch," an episode parodying the then-current wave of dance crazes; and "Dial S for Suspicion," a Hitchcock send-up.

The show's great strength was the unanimously fine performances of its voice cast, especially Alan Reed's Fred Flintstone. When Reed died in 1977 his part was taken over by another longtime character actor, Henry Corden. But where Corden's interpretation was cartoony and more directly imitative of Jackie Gleason's Ralph Cramden, Reed (who had once played Pancho Villa, in Viva Zapata!) used his many years in radio to lend the part an easy naturalness that made Fred seem very human. As much as anything else, it was his ability to connect with audiences that made the show click as well as it does.

The other big asset was the animation which, by TV standards, was surprisingly expressive with its lead characters and far superior to the assembly-line, Saturday morning junk one usually associates with Hanna-Barbera's TV output. Longtime partners William Hanna and Joe Barbera, working with animation director Charles A. Nichols, knew where to focus their short schedules and limited budgets. For what it is, The Flintstones looks very good and is basically timeless.

Video & Audio

As with Warner's recent release of Gilligan's Island, the color on The Flintstones is exceptionally good, despite some obvious fading and lack of stable hues on some of the episodes. The first three discs are single-sided affairs with six episodes apiece plus special features. The fourth and last disc is double-sided with five episodes on each side and no extras. Episodes are full-frame with very good mono sound. French and Spanish language tracks are available (and fun for those familiar with the show), along with subtitles in English, French, and Spanish.

As with Gilligan's Island, another Warner title, the incessant repetition of the show's theme song on the menu screens and the lack of chapter options on individual shows is somewhat irritating.

Extra Features

Thoroughly mined for Seasons One and Two, The Flintstones - The Complete Third Season is light on supplements, but what's there is okay. Bedrock Collectibles features a look at the collection of Flintstones animator, writer and fan Scott Shaw, including toys and other paraphernalia dating back to the early-1960s. First Family of the Stone Age features interviews with former Hanna-Barbera executive Mark Young, WB Animation producer Scott Jeralds, and WB Animation VP of Creative Design Iwao Takamoto discussing third year developments. Each of these features is full frame and runs 6-7 minutes. Trailers, disappointingly, are nothing more than new plugs for The Flintstones and other Hanna-Barbera shows.

Parting Thoughts

After 30 years, The Flintstones is better than I had remembered it. The generally unimaginative vehicles (and endless cereal commercials) featuring the characters since do doubt colored my own memories of the program. Rocky & Bullwinkle had better scripts and The Simpsons is a superior follow-up, but The Flintstones still holds its own as a page right out of animation history. Recommended for animation and nostalgia buffs.

** I contend that shows like The Brady Bunch aren't remembered for their quality but as universally shared experiences. Marcia getting bonked in the nose by a football isn't memorable because it was funny, but because all of us little choice but to sit through that damn episode a million times over - we didn't have DVD Players or digital cable to turn to back in them olden days.

Stuart Galbraith IV is a Los Angeles and Kyoto-based film historian whose work includes The Emperor and the Wolf -- The Lives and Films of Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune. His new book, Cinema Nippon will be published by Taschen in 2005.