This Foghorn Leghorn short offers a twist on the usual Tom and Jerry/Sylvester and Tweety/Roadrunner and Wil E. Coyote model. Like those classics, we are offered a conflict between scavenger and prey. Unlike them, the scavenger is a sweet little cutie, while his victim is a bloated, blustery sneak. The film begins with lachrymose melodrama, as the hero's father tragically tells toddler Henery Hawk that he is a chicken hawk, that he must hunt chickens. With innocent bravado, he sets out to fulfil his duty, but his ominous first act is to fail to fly, falling and thudding from a great height.
Meanwhile Foghorn Leghorn is having his usual self-imposed troubles with Barnyard Dog, taunting the latter because safe in the knowledge of his being tied up. Foghorn is lovably unsympathetic, a windy, Burl Ives-type, full of cod-military guff; he'll turn any trick to save his own hide. This mixture of malice and cowardice makes him a true cousin of Bugs.
He sees in the chickenhawk an opportunity to further exasperate Barnyard, and, persuading the little fellow that he is a horse, and Barnyard a chicken, urges Henery to root out his meal. Much sadistic lunacy ensues, wonderfully brutal, with the scheming Foghorn not always coming out best.
This energetic short plays havoc with sentimental ideals of the pastoral, especially prominent just after the war - its celebration of metamorphosis, duplicity and cunning is heartening in that oppressive All American social atmosphere. There is also some bracing philosophy about the struggle between free-will and genetic destiny. A Tex Avery would have made this a classic, but a funny script and peerlessly protean Mel Blanc voicing make this a rare treat.