Pancake Mountain In The News

Nothing Syrupy About 'Pancake'

By Michael O'Sullivan
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, June 23, 2006; WE39

The disc arrived in the mail with an ominous message attached: This might be the last.

That was the scribbled postscript dangling from the cover letter announcing the release of the latest DVD from "Pancake Mountain" (Monkeyboy Studios, $12), a Washington-based children's show that has featured such alt-rock bands as Shonen Knife and the Arcade Fire performing live in front of small audiences. Small, as in made up of elementary-school children and their dance-happy parents. Available from Pankcakemountain.com, DVD No. 4 includes two episodes of the half-hour show, and features music by the Subways, Deerhoof, Craig Wedren and others, along with a moderately educational song about gravity and skits offering subtle lessons about rudeness.

"Huh?," you're probably saying right about now. Why have I not heard of this local children's version of "Hullabaloo"? For one thing, you may not be, um, hip enough. Despite favorable write-ups in Entertainment Weekly and Spin magazines, and, according to creator Scott Stuckey, despite nibbles from HBO Family, Warner Bros. and other entertainment companies, the program remains a defiantly underground phenomenon, available only sporadically on public-access cable (check local listings) and DVD.

Which is a shame, given that the refreshingly low-tech affair is a lot of fun for grown-ups and kids alike, mostly as a result of the jaw-dropping roster of performers it has managed to attract since debuting in late 2003 with "Vowel Movements," an Internet-only version of an original song by Fugazi frontman Ian MacKaye and his band the Evens. That, and the willingness of the performers to look ridiculous by interacting with one of the show's regulars, a woolly hand puppet named Rufus Leaking.

"I'm not opposed to doing it on TV, like on network TV," says Stuckey, 42, who works in advertising post-production by day and who describes the show's humble origins as somewhere between a "hobby" and an "experiment." By the same token, he isn't trying all that hard.

When Discovery Kids called to talk about buying the show not that long ago, Stuckey says he was anything but the hard-nosed negotiator. "I was like, 'I've been in TV long enough, why don't you just steal the idea?' That's how TV's done. Make like 'Eggo Valley' or something. And they were like, 'Well, I don't think we could get Henry Rollins or Ted Leo to act in these skits, or to come on, unless it was a plug for Jay Leno's show or something like that.' "

Admitting only that the show "almost breaks even," Stuckey says making a buck has never been the goal. He still doesn't charge admission for the live dance concerts, often held at Washington's Warehouse Theater. It's that feeling of trust, as he calls it, that the show isn't marketing anything or selling anyone out, that keeps the entertainment hipoisie interested, even if his dream audience has yet to find him. Long disgusted with the idea of "culture industry," or the commodification of art, Stuckey says he doesn't want to make something "safe," something where "no one wants to rebel, because the formula's comfortable for everybody." The Wiggles this ain't.

As for the future, Stuckey can't say whether there will be a "Pancake Mountain" No. 5, but insists that the show's cult success has already surpassed his wildest dreams. "I met with Eddie Vedder the other night," he says. The Pearl Jam singer is apparently a big fan. Who knew? "I didn't know. He told me how he'd like to do a song."