Gumby and Pokey: Why Art Clokey’s Green Hero and His Talking Horse Still Matter

Gumby and Pokey: Why Art Clokey’s Green Hero and His Talking Horse Still Matter

If you close your eyes and think of the 1950s, you probably see black-and-white sitcoms or chrome-heavy cars. But for a certain generation, the era is defined by a slab of green clay. Gumby and Pokey aren't just relics of a simpler time in television; they represent a fundamental shift in how we perceive animation and the surrealist potential of children's media.

Art Clokey didn't just stumble into this. He was a visionary.

The story goes that Gumby was born from a film school project at USC titled Gumbasia. It was rhythmic. It was weird. It was jazz-inspired stop-motion that caught the eye of producers who wanted something fresh. When the clay man finally met his red horse sidekick, Pokey, the chemistry was instant. Pokey wasn't just a mount; he was the voice of reason. He was the skeptic. While Gumby wanted to jump into a book and live out a fantasy, Pokey was the one worrying about the logistical nightmare of being trapped in a 19th-century novel.

The Weird Physics of a Clay Boy and His Horse

Ever wonder why Gumby’s head is slanted? It’s not just an artistic whim. Clokey modeled the shape after a specific photo of his father, who had a prominent "cowlick." This tiny, personal detail turned a geometric shape into a character.

Gumby's world operated on what Clokey called "the law of clay." They could transform. They could slide under doors. But the heart of the show—and the reason people still search for Gumby and Pokey clips on YouTube—is the relationship between the two. Gumby is the eternal optimist. He’s the guy who thinks everything will work out if you just have enough heart. Pokey? Pokey is the realist. He’s got that dry, slightly nasal voice (originally provided by Art Clokey himself, and later Dallas McKennon) that reminds us that sometimes, jumping into a magical book is actually a terrible idea.

It’s a classic comedic duo. Think Kirk and Spock, but made of modeling clay and fueled by 1950s sincerity.

Why the 80s Revival Changed Everything

A lot of people forget that Gumby had a massive second life. In the early 1980s, Eddie Murphy’s "I’m Gumby, dammit!" sketch on Saturday Night Live brought the character back into the cultural zeitgeist. It was irreverent. It was the polar opposite of Clokey’s wholesome vision. But instead of killing the brand, it revitalized it.

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Art Clokey actually liked the sketch. He saw the humor in it.

This led to the 1988 series, which many Millennials remember more vividly than the original 1950s shorts. This version was trippier. The colors were more saturated. The Blockheads—those square-headed antagonists who represent the rigid, non-creative forces of the world—became more prominent. If you watch those episodes now, they feel like a fever dream. One minute they’re in space, the next they’re fighting a giant robot, and somehow, it all feels grounded because of that red horse.

The Technical Nightmare of Stop-Motion

We take CGI for granted now. Back then? Every second of film required 24 individual movements. If a light bumped or a set piece shifted a millimeter, the shot was ruined.

  • Each figure had a wire armature inside to keep it from sagging.
  • The "clay" was actually a mixture including wax to prevent it from melting under hot studio lights.
  • Animators had to deal with dust, fingerprints, and the literal decay of their stars.

It was grueling. It was slow. Honestly, it’s a miracle they produced as many episodes as they did. When you see Pokey gallop, you're seeing hours of a human being meticulously moving four clay legs in tiny increments. It’s an act of love.

The Blockheads: The Ultimate Villains

You can't talk about Gumby and Pokey without mentioning "J" and "G." These guys are the antithesis of everything Gumby stands for. They are literal squares. In the world of Clokey, they represented the "square" society—people who can't think outside the box, who want to exploit others, and who lack the fluidity of the clay characters.

They don't speak. They just cause trouble. There’s something deeply philosophical about a show where the hero is literally flexible and the villains are rigid blocks. It’s a metaphor for life that kids get intuitively, even if they can't put it into words.

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Spiritualism and the Claymators

Art Clokey wasn’t just a filmmaker; he was a student of Eastern philosophy. He was heavily influenced by the teachings of Sai Baba. If you look closely at later episodes, you’ll see themes of oneness, kindness, and the interconnectedness of all things.

The concept of Gumby being able to enter any world through a book? That’s about empathy. It’s about the power of literature and imagination to transport us into someone else’s experience. Clokey wanted his characters to reflect a higher state of consciousness. While other cartoons were focused on "slapstick" and "violence," Gumby was busy trying to help people and explore the universe.

The Legacy of Gumby and Pokey in the 21st Century

So, where are they now?

In 2022, Fox Entertainment (via Bento Box Entertainment) acquired the rights to the Gumby franchise. There’s a new series in development. There are NFTs (because of course there are). But the real legacy isn't in the merchandise. It’s in the DNA of modern animation. You can see the influence of Gumby’s surrealism in shows like Adventure Time or SpongeBob SquarePants.

The idea that a character doesn't have to have a fixed shape—that the world itself is malleable—is a core tenet of modern storytelling.

Common Misconceptions About the Duo

  1. "Gumby is a cactus." No. He’s a boy. He was inspired by the Gingerbread Man, but Clokey wanted him to be green because that’s the color of life and hope.
  2. "Pokey is a donkey." He’s a horse. A very small, very sarcastic horse.
  3. "It’s just for kids." If you watch the 1995 feature film Gumby: The Movie, you'll see it’s packed with meta-humor and social commentary that flies right over children's heads.

Basically, if you haven't revisited these two lately, you're missing out on some of the most experimental television ever aired. It’s weird, it’s slow, and it’s beautiful.

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How to Experience Gumby and Pokey Today

If you want to dive back into the clay world, don't just go for the high-definition remasters. Try to find the original 1950s shorts. They have a graininess and a haunting quality that the modern versions lack.

  • Watch the originals: Look for the "Gumbasia" short to see where it all started. It’s pure avant-garde cinema.
  • Check the voices: Note the shift in Pokey’s voice over the decades. It’s a masterclass in how a character can remain consistent even as the actors change.
  • Analyze the Blockheads: Watch how they interact with the world. It’s a great lesson in character design—form following function.

Gumby and Pokey remain icons because they represent the best of us: the part of us that stays flexible in a rigid world and the part of us that, like Pokey, isn't afraid to say, "Hey, maybe we should think this through first."

Stop-motion might be a dying art in the age of AI, but the thumbprints left in the clay on those old sets remind us that human hands made this. That's something no algorithm can replicate.

Next time you feel a bit stuck or "square," think about that green slab of clay. He’s been through the Blockheads' traps, he’s been lost in the moon, and he always comes back with a smile. It’s a good way to live.

Keep an eye out for the upcoming Fox revival. It will be the first major test of whether Gumby's "law of clay" still holds up in a digital world. If they keep the heart and the weirdness, it just might.

Stay flexible.