‘The Magilla Gorilla Show: The Complete Series’ Blu-ray (review)

Warner Archive

Magilla Gorilla: The Complete Series is a delightful blast from the past—a classic slice of Hanna-Barbera whimsy that ran from 1964 to 1967.

With 31 episodes of slapstick mischief, colorful characters, and charmingly simple storylines, it’s a shining example of the golden age of television cartoons.

Thanks to this Blu-ray release from Warner Archive, this lovable primate is still swinging into hearts decades after his debut.

At its core, Magilla Gorilla keeps things wonderfully straightforward.

Magilla is a good-natured but clumsy gorilla living in the front window of Mr. Peebles’ pet shop. He spends his days munching on bananas and inadvertently running up the bills.

Each episode kicks off with Mr. Peebles trying—desperately—to sell Magilla to some unsuspecting customer. Whether he’s recruited for a bank heist, cast in a movie, or shipped off to the military (as in “Private Magilla”), chaos follows.

No matter how far he roams, Magilla’s escapades inevitably land him right back at the pet shop, cheerfully declaring, “We’ll try again next week.”

The show also features two supporting segments that round out the half-hour with even more cartoon mayhem.

Punkin’ Puss & Mushmouse offers a hillbilly twist on the old cat-and-mouse formula, while Ricochet Rabbit & Droop-a-Long heads out west for high-speed law enforcement with a zany sheriff and his lethargic sidekick. Each short brings its own energy but meshes well with Magilla’s banana-fueled antics, keeping things lively and unpredictable.

Magilla’s world is brought to life by an impressive lineup of legendary voice talent. Allan Melvin voices Magilla with a warm, gravelly tone that perfectly captures the gorilla’s goofy optimism. Howard Morris and later Don Messick share duties as the perpetually frazzled Mr. Peebles, each putting their own spin on the character’s grumpy exasperation. Jean Vander Pyl, the voice behind Wilma Flintstone, sweetens the mix as little Ogee, Magilla’s biggest fan, who famously asks, “How much is that gorilla in the window?” And in the side segments, Melvin, Morris, Messick, and the incomparable Mel Blanc give voice to an array of misfits—from a bumbling hillbilly cat to a ricocheting rabbit sheriff—all with their signature flair.

What makes Magilla Gorilla still click in 2025 is how refreshingly uncomplicated it is. In a world of frenetic media and constant noise, its gentle rhythm and silly charm offer a welcome throwback. Magilla’s endless quest to belong, despite never quite fitting in, taps into something timeless and relatable. There’s a sweetness in the show’s repetition—in the way everyone returns to their starting point each week with no hard feelings, just another chance to get it right.

For fans who grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons, the nostalgia is potent. The music (courtesy of Hanna-Barbera staple Hoyt Curtin), the limited but lovable animation, and the parade of quirky guest characters form a warm, familiar backdrop. And surprisingly, the series still manages to hook younger audiences discovering it for the first time through streaming or Blu-ray. There’s a kind of pure, absurd joy in these episodes that never really gets old.

There’s also a deeper layer if you care to look. Some fans interpret Magilla’s repeated sales and returns as a metaphor for societal rejection—his pet shop purgatory standing in for the struggle to be accepted. Others just love the gorilla in suspenders who gets into trouble and still smiles at the end. Either way, the series has quietly left its mark, popping up in shows like Harvey Birdman and Jellystone! and influencing generations of animated storytelling.

The restoration is stunning and the series has never looked better.  Extras include 1963 promotional film, a live performance of the theme song, a retrospective featurette and 8 bonus clips (originally produced to be mixed in with syndicated reruns).

At the end of the day, Magilla Gorilla remains a mighty nice trip down memory lane. It’s funny, sweet, and unashamedly goofy—a cartoon that never tried to be anything more than what it was: simple fun. Whether you’re revisiting it with fondness or discovering it for the first time, Magilla and his pals remind us that even in the face of banana-fueled disaster, there’s always next week—and always a little more room in the window.