Once in a blue moon, a cartoon comes along that doesn’t just entertain—it transports. Netflix’s The Cuphead Show! is that rare animated blast from the past that feels like it tumbled straight out of an old Fleischer Studios vault, complete with scratchy sound effects, jittery lines, and a devil who’d fit right in next to Betty Boop’s cast of creeps. Based on Studio MDHR’s smash-hit video game Cuphead, which was itself a love letter to 1930s cartoons, the series doesn’t just revive the era’s aesthetics—it practically dances the Charleston in them.
So how did a chaotic, side-scrolling indie game turn into a fully-fledged cartoon phenomenon? Let’s take a deep dive into how The Cuphead Show! lovingly resurrected a bygone animation era—rubber limbs, brassy soundtracks, and all—and the talented ragtag crew that made it happen.
In This Article:
A bygone era, redrawn
To understand The Cuphead Show! is to understand the artistry of the 1930s animation giants. Think Max Fleischer’s Talkartoons or Walt Disney’s early Silly Symphonies—these cartoons were all about fluid motion, surreal worlds, and bold, black-lined characters that bounced to the beat of a big band. The design language was loose and limber—“rubber hose” animation, where arms stretch like licorice and logic is about as rigid as a flan in a frying pan.
The show doesn’t just reference this era. It recreates it. From the grainy texture of the backgrounds to the squashed-and-stretched physics of Cuphead and his ever-skeptical brother Mugman, every episode feels like it belongs in a nickelodeon theater, right between Minnie the Moocher and Bimbo’s Initiation. But this isn’t pastiche. It’s celebration.
Studio MDHR’s influence: more than a pixelated nod
Before The Cuphead Show! graced our screens, the groundwork was already laid by Studio MDHR’s critically acclaimed 2017 game Cuphead. Brothers Chad and Jared Moldenhauer, the game’s creators, were animation buffs with a penchant for dusty VHS tapes of vintage cartoons and jazz-age ephemera. They spent years painstakingly animating the game frame by frame using hand-drawn techniques, mirroring the 1930s process almost to a fault. Every character, every background, every boss was steeped in classic animation DNA.
That same spirit carried over into the Netflix adaptation. Chad Moldenhauer served as executive producer, ensuring that the show’s aesthetic never veered too modern, too clean, or too digital. His involvement guaranteed that what fans fell in love with in the game would translate, frame by frame, into the series.
The team behind the toons
A show like this doesn’t come to life without an army of passionate artists, writers, and animators. Dave Wasson, known for his work on Time Squad and Mickey Mouse Shorts, served as one of the showrunners. Wasson brought with him a deep understanding of the vintage animation sensibility, but also a keen sense of comic timing and modern storytelling—an essential blend when you’re making something both retro and fresh.
Art director Andrea Fernandez deserves a standing ovation too. Her team captured the texture of watercolor backgrounds, the slight imperfections of ink lines, and the hand-painted feel that defined cartoons from nearly a century ago. There’s a softness to the world of The Cuphead Show! that resists the sharp, vectorized look of many modern animated series.
Then there’s the voice cast—a dazzling ensemble that breathes life into this elastic, jazzy world. Tru Valentino (Cuphead) and Frank Todaro (Mugman) bounce off each other like Abbott and Costello dipped in ink. Wayne Brady’s turn as King Dice? Pure velvet menace. Grey Griffin, Luke Millington-Drake, and Dave Wasson himself (yep, he voices Henchman) round out a crew that feels like they could’ve been doing radio plays between big band intermissions. It’s worth noting that voice over work here isn’t just performance—it’s period acting, channeling a style of delivery that’s part snappy, part vaudeville, and all heart.
Musical mischief and visual jazz
Let’s talk sound. If the visuals are a love letter to 1930s animation, the music is a big, brassy kiss blown from a gramophone. Ego Plum’s score pulses with old-school jazz energy—plinky pianos, rubbery bass lines, and swing rhythms that guide the action like a conductor with a baton made of licorice. Each chase sequence, each devilish deal, each bakery misadventure is heightened by a soundtrack that feels pulled from a smoky speakeasy.
Musically and visually, the show plays like a looped record of joy and chaos. Whether it’s the Devil’s schemes or Cuphead’s impulsive, well-meaning antics, everything moves to a beat—a rhythm that pays homage to the early days when animation and music were inseparable dance partners.
Storylines with slapstick and soul
Sure, The Cuphead Show! is visually stunning—but it’s also funny. Not just chuckle-funny, but slapstick, pie-in-the-face, anvils-from-the-sky funny. It revels in physical comedy, surreal gags, and zany plots. But there’s heart, too—particularly in the brotherly dynamic between Cuphead and Mugman. They argue, they bicker, but at the end of the day, they’re ride-or-die siblings navigating a world full of trouble (and delicious pastries).
The show balances episodic hijinks with subtle threads of continuity, most notably the ongoing conflict with the Devil and the ever-looming presence of contracts, debts, and mischief. It’s just enough plot to keep things cooking without breaking the cartoon rhythm.
Nostalgia reimagined, not recycled
What makes The Cuphead Show! special is that it doesn’t feel like a nostalgia trap. It doesn’t rely on references or wink-wink moments. Instead, it feels like it belongs to the era it imitates, as though it were a long-lost cartoon recently discovered in a film canister in someone’s attic. It embraces the limitations and quirks of vintage animation—then turns them into strengths.
The show is a bridge between generations. Kids can enjoy it for its wild energy and over-the-top humor, while animation buffs can appreciate its historical fidelity and craftsmanship. It’s rare that a show satisfies both audiences without compromise.
A toast to toons that take risks
In an age of hyper-slick CGI and frenetic pacing, The Cuphead Show! is a throwback that doesn’t feel old. It’s a reminder that sometimes, going backward stylistically can be the boldest move forward. The series proves that 1930s aesthetics—complete with jazz, jitter, and jank—still have a place in the modern cartoon landscape.
It’s not just a good show. It’s an important one. A testament to the timelessness of hand-drawn magic, mischievous storytelling, and the power of art that’s a little weird, a little wobbly, and a whole lot of fun.
