Carlos
Alazraqui has at least twice — in separate years and on separate coasts —
affirmed his fondness for his breakout character’s statement, “I love you, Mr.
Onion Head.”
He
said as much in 2015 during a Rocko’s
Modern Life panel at Florida Supercon. Two summers later, he restated it as
“my favorite line” in an interview with AfterBuzz TV’s Keetin Marchi at the San
Diego Supercon, where the trailer for the long-time-coming Static Cling premiered.
While
Alazraqui did not elaborate on why that quote stands out, Mr. Onion Head is
inarguably one of the more memorable bada-bing-bada-boom Rocko characters. From his startling emergence out of nowhere to
his unfortunate demise via Heffer’s jaw, his lone appearance lasts 67 seconds.
Yet he is integral to the prolonged drama in “Junk Junkies” and speaks
sagaciously and substantively on sentimental value.
Himself
an Alazraqui character — the actor said at Florida Supercon he perfomed him as
a Nick Nolte impression — Mr. Onion Head packs ample resonance in a constrained
container. Some of the flashbacks he evokes have regained their relevance in
the countdown to Static Cling’s
release this August.
As
the Netflix teaser lets on, Rocko “just wanted my show back!” upon belatedly
entering 21st-century O-Town. The unspecified ’90s series reportedly takes a
broader effect when Rocko merely sought a piece of a purer, simpler era.
In
that sense, it plays the role his pogo stick had 25 years earlier. Despite what
the dealer he sells it to in “Junk Junkies” says, the object and the memories matter. This becomes clear
when Mr. Onion Head steps in to tell a slew of those memories in more detail.
As
the speech and the clips demonstrate, Rocko and the pogo stick “were pretty
much inseparable” during his Australian upbringing. When he was still in his
not-a-care-in-the-world years, it helps him maximize his energy expenditure and
miles in the spacious Outback. It later helps him elude danger, then smoothly
introduces him to puberty and his “first girl.”
Given
that Rocko’s first crush is a fellow wallaby with a pogo stick of her own, that
last point suggests the value of such sticks to the species. Being smaller than
lookalike kangaroos, they cover less ground when they leap.
Being
even smaller than their parents, wallaby children feel more empowered with a
toy conducive to higher, longer jumping. You might say it is to them what
Reebok would say its Trackstar was for human kids.
All
of this comes back to Rocko with Mr. Onion Head’s help after his pogo stick
gets him to his garage-sale goal. In this sense, it gets him out of trouble one
more time.
Previously,
while still hesitant, he admits “I guess I could” sell it while glancing at
threatening reminders of his pizza debt. Once that is ostensibly out of the
way, however, his conscience is clearer. Considering Onion Head’s lack of
sentience in Heffer’s presence, his crucial cameo brings a Calvin and Hobbes dynamic to Rocko.
Only
the toy’s owner can see him move or hear him talk, and can only do so when they
are alone. Moreover, the toy is there to make its owner reconsider an ill-advised
decision. Countless readers of Bill Watterson’s magnum opus hold that the
stuffed tiger stands for the boy’s conscience. Being Rocko’s favorite indoor
toy from childhood, Mr. Onion Head is perfect for the same role.
How
perfect? He inspires Rocko to re-purchase his pogo stick before Heffer’s disfigured G.I. Jimbo sells for the squandered $500. He is a key cog on a team
of toys practically looking out for each other, their owners and their owners’
friends.
But
while his speech brings a slice of childhood innocence back home, he himself is
prone to real-world influence.
Remarkably,
at least in terms of release dates, the Rocko
masterminds beat Pixar to the screen with selectively anthropomorphic toys. Mr.
Onion Head’s real-life inspiration, Mr. Potato Head, debuted in the movies
almost two years later via Toy Story.
And that was the mere beginning of his fame beyond public shelves and private
playrooms.
Odds
are Rocko’s Mr. Onion Head is one of millions of copies worldwide. If the
Nolte-esque speaker epitomizes the character, then he has “Chokey/Chewy Chicken
onion ring spokesman” written all over him. It would be no different than the
way Mr. Potato Head started hawking Burger King French fries circa 1997-98. (That gig virtually led to a Lay’s potato chip endorsements.)
Too
bad Heffer could not distinguish edible onions from toys. Now all Rocko has of
his Mr. Onion Head are the memories. Even if, say, one of Filburt’s children or
the boy who got Rocko’s foul ball volunteered to replace him with a Chokey/Chewy
Chicken kids meal prize, it would not be the same, especially due to postmodern
corporate tie-ins.
But
as long as Rocko hangs on to his pogo stick, Mr. Onion Head’s sacrifice will
not be for naught any more than G.I. Jimbo’s.
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