Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Four long years separates Sleeping Beauty from Lady and the Tramp, due once again to the use of CinemaScope's 2.55:1 ratio, allowing the artists to paint on a larger canvas. This film has a very distinctive look from most other Disney films, and each background took seven to ten days to complete, versus the typical one day for other Disney films. As a result, the backgrounds are rather lifeless, as only prominent characters are given the ability to move. Its still one of the most striking looks a Disney film has ever attained.
This is another Disney film carried by the supporting characters, rather then the leads. The story opens on the birth of Princess Aurora, and the curse the evil Maleficent places on her. Jealous that she was not invited to the Princess' birthday, she declares that before the sun sets on her 16th birthday, the Princess will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die. The King sends his daughter into hiding with three fairies, who place a counter charm that will simply but Aurora into a deep sleep, only to be awakened by true love's kiss.
It's amazing how Disney romance made sense when I was younger. Perhaps it bored me, so the faster the characters fell in love the happier I was. Now, of course, its almost laughable how quickly people fall for each other. Aurora meets her betrothed, Prince Phillip, though neither knows the other; and though she is apprehensive, it takes one song (Once Upon a Dream) to convince them they were in love. If only it were that easy.
But if Aurora and Phillip don't provide much in the way of character, its made up by the three fairies (Merryweather being the best), and imposing force that is Maleficent. True her gripe with Aurora is a weak reason, but then again there are plenty of people out there who would do the same. It comes down to a fantastic final fight, as Maleficent transforms into a huge dragon. And, of course, true love's kiss.
101 Dalmatians (1961)
101 Dalmatians is a watershed film in the Disney animation style; before you couldn't fault a single Disney film for its look, they were all wonderful to behold. But production costs were too high, and so a new process was developed known as Xerography, a photocopying technique that gave the films a rough look. To swap Sleeping Beauty for 101 Dalmatians feels like taking a few steps back from where animation had come.
101 is one of those films I watched a million times as a kid because those puppies were so darn cute. The story opens with Pongo the dalmatian narrating the everyday droll life he leads, and how he hooks up his human pet Roger (see, they think of us as pets!) with a beautiful young lady named Anita. Bonus for Pongo: she has a dalmatian named Perdita. Both couples get married, and Perdita gives birth to fifteen puppies. In one of Disney's darker moments, one of the puppies doesn't make it, though of course Roger uses massaging techniques to revive the little guy.
This is all threatened by Anita's extravagant employer, Cruella De Vil (possibly the best name for any Disney villain ever), who steals the puppies intent on skinning them all and making a Dalmatian fur coat. Ethics aside, I imagine a Dalmatian fur coat would look horrible, but then again I've been told I have no sense of fashion so what do I know.
As far as Disney films go this one's fairly decent, once again featuring a myriad of supporting characters that help Pongo and Perdita on their quest to rescue their puppies (and the 84 others Cruella has somehow rounded up). There's also the bumbling henchmen Jasper and Horace who provide a few chuckles. The best scene is the climax, in which Cruella's vehicle turns into a hellmobile and her eyes blaze with the rage of 1,000 suns.
The Sword in the Stone (1963)
There are two ways people know the Arthur mythology, neither from reading any of the books. One is Monty Python's classic telling of Arthur's quest for the Holy Grail. The second is this film, which tells Arthur's origins, his schooling with Merlin, and his eventual pulling of the sword from the stone. A third would probably be the musical Camelot.
Arthur is a squire, referred to as Wart, until one day Merlin comes along and begins schooling him in the ways of the world. This film is one of the first, in animation anyways, to make winking references to the future. Merlin has time traveled and seen all the latest inventions, and mentions several different technologies that leaves Wart confused but will have the audience laughing, if they haven't seen Shrek (2001) a million times yet.
There's not much forward momentum to the plot, but what is here is fairly enjoyable. Merlin transforms Wart into a fish, a squirrel, and a bird, and each leads to dire misadventures. The highlight is a duel between Merlin and Madam Mim, as they transform into several different creatures to try and one up each other. The Merlin wins is quite ingenious actually.
Merlin's sidekick is the owl Archimedes, voiced by Junius Matthews who also does Rabbit in Winnie the Pooh. He's a nice little character, dropping several dour remarks about the situation, and always keeping a pessimistic outlook, though he helps when he can. In the end, Sword in the Stone might not be much, but whats there is pretty damn entertaining and provides youngsters with a neat entry point into the Arthur mythology.
The Jungle Book (1967)
You know what's been missing from the past several Disney films? Great music. Sure most of the past couple films had songs, but none of them are ones I pull up regularly and sing along too. Jungle Book, on the other hand, has several great songs, the highlights of which include Bare Necessities and I Wanna Be Like You. Strong songwriting wouldn't pervade Disney until the Renaissance era, but of all the past Disney films, this one has the most memorable songs.
It's also a significant film because its the last Walt oversaw before his death in December 1966. While the quality of Disney films had begun to wane at the start of WWII, here the films really start to dip in quality, with a few real duds on the horizon. Jungle Book is still overall a good film and one I will continue to revisit through my life, featuring several wonderful characters including George Sanders' wonderfully deep voice as Shere Khan. Also notable are the Vultures, modeled to look like the Beatles because they were originally going to do the voices, until John Lennon vetoed the idea.
Making his first of three appearances in Disney is Phil Harris, providing the voice of Baloo. He brings a swinging, easy going edge to the scene, and Disney would use him in their next to films to bring a little life to the scene. The journey of little Mowgli from the Jungle to the village is always fun, with one of Disney's better endings as he is charmed by a girl away from his friends. Oh Disney, sometimes you know life too well.
More importantly, this film saved Disney animation. Because Walt had died, the future of the animation studio was called into question, and had this film been a financial failure, it is likely Disney Studio Animation would have closed indefinitely. Luckily, the film has a huge box office hit, and resuscitated the studio, but it would be 22 years before Disney animation truly returned to form.
The AristoCats (1970)
Jungle Book saved Disney Animation so we could get...this. It's a highly unremarkable film about a cat and her kittens who are going to inherit their wealthy owner's entire estate. This makes her Butler extremely jealous, and so he sets out to drown the cats, since the lady will bequeath her estate to him instead, if the cats aren't there. My what a dastardly plan.
If the plot is slightly ridiculous, it is saved by several good characters and some good scenes. The highlight of the film involves two dogs, Napoleon and Lafayette. (Pat Buttram voices Napoleon, and if the name sounds familiar, it's because he resurfaces in several coming Disney films.) Napoleon and Lafayette chase the Butler for no other reason then thats what they do, and inadvertently foil his dastardly plans.
Phil Harris is back as Thomas O'Malley Cat, providing the same swagger he did for Baloo. Eva Gabor voices Duchess, the lead Cat, and she'll be back in a future prominent Disney role. They go on several misadventures and have a run-in with some other alley cats, who sing the films only semi-memorable song, Everybody Wants to Be a Cat. This is all finished off with another great climax in which the Butler is shipped far, far from Paris. Disney is pretty good at climaxes.
Disney does produce some good films through the 70s and 80s, but none have that timeless classic feel to them (save one thats coming up). Disney's animation department was heading towards their lowest point, as they operated on tight budgets and the pressure to deliver successes that would keep the company afloat. Its definitely not smooth sailing, as we'll see next time.
Part 5 will cover:
Robin Hood (1973)
The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)
The Rescuers (1977)
The Fox and the Hound (1981)
The Black Cauldron (1985)
Monday, December 17, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012)
Full spoilers for everything Hobbit-related below.
We seem to have entered a new age of cinema, and its not necessarily for the better. Instead of figuring out how to adapt books for feature length movies by reducing content, we are now at a time when books are being chopped up into multiple parts to "give the story the most attention" when really its at the service of maximizing profits. I was a big supporter of Harry Potter doing this with its seventh book; one movie would have felt slight and rushed, but two gave ample time for the whole story to be told. Granted, Deathly Hallows Part 1 is a much slower pic then Part 2, where the final battle comes to a head, but there was enough content to justify the split.
Twilight followed suit with its final two parts, and Hunger Games will do the same with its final book, though if you've read Mockingjay you'll understand what a punishing time we're all in for, as that book is slow, boring, and pretty awful compared to the other, more exciting Hunger Games novels. But I digress.
Peter Jackson now has enough clout that he can demand what he wants from the studios because his Middle-Earth films deliver the returns. Hell, when he made the highly debated decision to make Hobbit three movies instead of two, I bet the studios wet themselves with joy since he upped their potential profits that much more, and only had to stretch the budget a bit to accomodate extra shooting, post-production, and marketing for a third film.
So how does Part 1, An Unexpected Journey, hold up? Well, for Middle Earth enthusiasts, this is everything they could have hoped for and more. Jackson dives right back into Middle Earth and adds lengthy scenes explaining the backstory of Smaug's takeover of the Lonely Mountain, and fleshing out Thorin's (Richard Armitage) character more thoroughly then the book does.
The film is framed by an old Bilbo (Ian Holm) committing to paper his various travels, addressing them directly to Frodo (Elijah Wood), who is shoehorned in to establish why he's sitting under that tree at the opening of Fellowship of the Ring. We finally launch into The Hobbit proper with Martin Freeman in the role of Bilbo being greeted by Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen, returning from his LOTR days). Gandalf chooses Bilbo to join his company of dwarves, led by Thorin, on a quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain from Smaug, and Bilbo initially refuses. But soon he's off with the 13 dwarves on an epic adventure filled with many perilous dangers.
The Hobbit is a short book, running barely over 300 pages, whereas The Fellowship of the Ring is nearly 400. So why does The Hobbit get the trilogy treatment when the 1,000 page LOTR saga was condensed into three movies instead of six or nine? Well, Jackson adds a lot of new material found in The Silmarillion and the Appendices to Return of the King, which explain where Gandalf runs off to all those times he goes missing. With all this material, Jackson is aiming to complement his LOTR films with the most comprehensive set of films he could make. So does it work?
Yes and no. While the embellishments help to paint the world of Middle Earth, all the added stuff grinds the forward momentum of the narrative to a halt. There's so much set-up and exposition going on in the first half of the film that you're head is literally spinning from the vast amount of plot being thrown your way. There's the addition of Radagast the Brown (Sylvester McCoy), a wizard more in tune to nature's creatures, to the point where he comes across as a Disney Princess. Some have been going so far as to call the character the Jar-Jar Binks of the series, and while I found the character vexing, I wouldn't go that far. He does serve a purpose (to introduce the Necromancer that we'll get more of in the coming films), though its a slight one.
What's really missing from this film, though, is an epic sense of purpose to the quest. The Hobbit is about Bilbo coming to terms with his adventuresome spirit, and proving that Hobbits and indeed all creatures can be more cunning then originally conceived. The quest to reclaim the treasure doesn't carry the same weight as the quest to destroy Sauron and his minions. Try as Jackson might, the whole thing doesn't ring with the same epic sweep the original trilogy seemed to manage so effortlessly. Even now I can go back to those films and become engulfed in the story.
The film's best scenes come when the gang is swept into the Goblin's lair and Bilbo is separated from the group and his infamous run-in with Gollum (Andy Serkis). This character is classic now, and to see him again filled me with excitement. The game of riddles is wonderfully rendered, and is the only section of this film I can find no fault in. Its perfect, and worth sitting through the rest of the film. The mo-cap has never been better. The dwarves also do battle with the Goblins with Gandalf, which serves as the film's one truly exciting action scene.
On top of all this is another story involving an orc who has a thorn up his ass about Thorin and is determined to kill him at all costs. This character is fairly boring, and while it offers an explanation for all the roaming orcs, and sets up an emotional payoff between Bilbo and Thorin, the character itself is little more then a lazy plot device to give this film some semblance of a three-act structure. I guess its good to have an enemy to fight against, but this one inspires no sense of fear or dread like the Urukhai managed to do.
Much has also been made by Jackson's controversial decision to shoot in 48 fps, doubling the frame rate that has been standard for nearly 120 years. Many have complained that the higher frame rate gives the film a daytime soap opera aesthetic, and makes the sets look fake and CGI worse. I cannot weigh in on this debate, having seen the film displayed in good ol' 2D 24 fps. In certain sweeping wide shots the characters seemed to be moving at a remarkable speed that didn't match their Close-ups, like those badly calibrated TVs at Best Buy. But overall the film looked fine, though the term film can't really apply because this was shot on the Red EPIC. If I do see the HFR 3D for some reason, I'll add a footnote.
Much has also been made by Jackson's controversial decision to shoot in 48 fps, doubling the frame rate that has been standard for nearly 120 years. Many have complained that the higher frame rate gives the film a daytime soap opera aesthetic, and makes the sets look fake and CGI worse. I cannot weigh in on this debate, having seen the film displayed in good ol' 2D 24 fps. In certain sweeping wide shots the characters seemed to be moving at a remarkable speed that didn't match their Close-ups, like those badly calibrated TVs at Best Buy. But overall the film looked fine, though the term film can't really apply because this was shot on the Red EPIC. If I do see the HFR 3D for some reason, I'll add a footnote.
For purists, this film is heaven. For the rest of us, this is an exercise in self-indulgent gratification, as we realize its going to be at least another year and two or so hours before we get to meet Smaug (here only seen flashing by). The Prologue to LOTR effectively establishes the menace that is Sauron, but Smaug's prologue does little service to him. I understand what Jackson is trying to achieve: the sense of an evil force returning is given a little notice here. But this isn't Sauron's story, this is Bilbo's. I've barely talked about the title character this whole time, and when you think about it, Bilbo is relegated to the background through most of the middle until the Gollum scene and his pivotal character shift at the end. Delicious teasers, hints, and name dropping would have been more satisfying then all the padding given to this movie. Jackson tries to give this small little story about a company of dwarves and a Hobbit deeper significance to Middle Earth at large, but sadly he falls well short of the mark.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Silver Linings Playbook (2012)
David O. Russell's latest feature, Silver Linings Playbook, takes all the rules of Hollywood's conventional romance and then shows us all how its done. It tackles a sticky subject, mental illness, so directly and boldly that the product is a sometimes all-to-real, hard to watch film where we watch Bradley Cooper have multiple meltdowns and nearly destroy all his relationships.
Really the revelation of this picture is Cooper himself, who proves that he can be more then the pretty bad boy we've become accustomed to from the two Hangover films (with a third coming soon). On the surface he appears to be stable, but you watch with wide eyes as the layers are peeled back quickly to reveal a bipolar man obsessed with getting his wife back after she cheated on him with a colleague.
Jennifer Lawrence is Cooper's co-star as a mysterious woman with problems of her own. Her husband, a cop, has recently died, and the movie shows just how off-the-wall these characters are when Lawrence and Cooper first meet. Pressured by his friend to not ask how her husband died, Cooper introduces himself and then immediately springs the question. This draws Lawrence to Cooper, and she soon sets out to cure him in her own twisted way.
Rounding out the cast is Robert DeNiro as Cooper's father, an avid Eagles fan who is banned from the stadium for starting too many fights. He is one of those guys who believes that certain events in his life effect that outcome of a sports game, down to the way his controllers are facing. Jacki Weaver is unrecognizable as Cooper's mother, coming off her last role as the crazy mafia mother in Animal Kingdom (2010). And Chris Tucker, after years out of work, fits perfectly into a role as one of Cooper's mental patient friends. Boardwalk Empire fans will also recognize Steve Buscemi's brother Eli here as Cooper's.
O. Russell specializes in family dramas and exhibiting just how crazy we all are around each other. The Fighter (2010), his previous work, also showcased an East Coast family that was destroyed by drugs, and a man being controlled by his mother and brother. Drugs aren't a factor here, but Cooper's character's instability brings several tense moments to a lot of scenes as you don't know how far he might go. One of his trigger's is a Stevie Wonder song that played at his wedding, and whenever an iPod and music were present, I kept anticipating that song coming on.
Also consistent between O. Russell's two films is the strong but offbeat female lead. Both are played by actresses not normally known for being so blatantly sexualized (Amy Adams in the former and Lawrence here) but they both deliver fantastic performances and, with the screenplay, make us believe they really are these people. It's also probably no coincidence that both movies feature the female lead standing up to the male lead's parents.
Inexplicably this all culminates in a competition where everything is at stake, though I won't reveal what, how or why. O. Russell's command of our emotions is so sure that we are on the edge of our seats anyway, and its craft like that I have to admire. Silver Linings Playbook isn't a great movie, but its a damn good one, and it shows us that you can play by the rules and still deliver a damn fine product.
Really the revelation of this picture is Cooper himself, who proves that he can be more then the pretty bad boy we've become accustomed to from the two Hangover films (with a third coming soon). On the surface he appears to be stable, but you watch with wide eyes as the layers are peeled back quickly to reveal a bipolar man obsessed with getting his wife back after she cheated on him with a colleague.
Jennifer Lawrence is Cooper's co-star as a mysterious woman with problems of her own. Her husband, a cop, has recently died, and the movie shows just how off-the-wall these characters are when Lawrence and Cooper first meet. Pressured by his friend to not ask how her husband died, Cooper introduces himself and then immediately springs the question. This draws Lawrence to Cooper, and she soon sets out to cure him in her own twisted way.
Rounding out the cast is Robert DeNiro as Cooper's father, an avid Eagles fan who is banned from the stadium for starting too many fights. He is one of those guys who believes that certain events in his life effect that outcome of a sports game, down to the way his controllers are facing. Jacki Weaver is unrecognizable as Cooper's mother, coming off her last role as the crazy mafia mother in Animal Kingdom (2010). And Chris Tucker, after years out of work, fits perfectly into a role as one of Cooper's mental patient friends. Boardwalk Empire fans will also recognize Steve Buscemi's brother Eli here as Cooper's.
O. Russell specializes in family dramas and exhibiting just how crazy we all are around each other. The Fighter (2010), his previous work, also showcased an East Coast family that was destroyed by drugs, and a man being controlled by his mother and brother. Drugs aren't a factor here, but Cooper's character's instability brings several tense moments to a lot of scenes as you don't know how far he might go. One of his trigger's is a Stevie Wonder song that played at his wedding, and whenever an iPod and music were present, I kept anticipating that song coming on.
Also consistent between O. Russell's two films is the strong but offbeat female lead. Both are played by actresses not normally known for being so blatantly sexualized (Amy Adams in the former and Lawrence here) but they both deliver fantastic performances and, with the screenplay, make us believe they really are these people. It's also probably no coincidence that both movies feature the female lead standing up to the male lead's parents.
Inexplicably this all culminates in a competition where everything is at stake, though I won't reveal what, how or why. O. Russell's command of our emotions is so sure that we are on the edge of our seats anyway, and its craft like that I have to admire. Silver Linings Playbook isn't a great movie, but its a damn good one, and it shows us that you can play by the rules and still deliver a damn fine product.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
The Wonderful World of Disney: Part 3
The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)
The last of Disney's package films is also probably the best, showcasing two stories that oddly work well together, translating classic American tales into Disney fiction. The first, detailing the exploits of Mr. Toad, is a fun adventure in which Mr. Toad is a menace behind whatever vehicle he is operating. This lands him in huge legal trouble with the townspeople, but soon Toad's friends Mole, Rat and Badger are out to prove that Toad was set-up.
Disney's take on Sleepy Hollow is also surprisingly dark, adhering to the major beats of the original tale. In fact, its most notable because Ichabod himself comes across as somewhat of a jerk, seeking the hand of Katrina von Tassel and upsetting Brom Bones. While Bones reminds one of Gaston, you actually kind of feel sorry for the guy as Ichabod upsets him at every turn.
Where the movie really shines, though, is in the chilling ending where the headless horsemen comes a-calling. True, Disney doesn't establish the threat into the moments right before Ichabod rides home with a song, but the fact that Ichabod doesn't survive the Disney version turns this rendition into a memorable ending that stayed with me all throughout my childhood. This is certainly the best version of the tale, definitely better then Tim Buton's take 50 years later.
Cinderella (1950)
After eight years Disney finally returned full feature animated stories with Cinderella, a tale everyone is familiar with, and maybe remembers too fondly. It's not a bad picture, and contains some wonderful characters including the Wicked Stepmother, her cat Lucifer, and the mice who are the supporting players. But it continues to suffer from the Disney syndrome of bland leads, including a Prince Charming that somehow makes less of an impact then the Snow White's Prince.
There are also some decent songs, including the Work Song, Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo and A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes. And the mice Gus and Jacques provide loving support, including the tense finale where they attempt to carry a huge key up an enormous flight of steps so that Cinderella can try on the slipper.
You all know the story, but even at 74 minutes the film feels placid. Nothing much happens for the duration, and there is a lot of filler in there to pad it out to length. Still, you can't deny the impact its had as a classic and one of the more well-remembered Disney films.
Alice in Wonderland (1951)
A box office failure for Disney, Alice in Wonderland holds up as a strange, abstract animated retelling of Lewis Carroll's seminal work. Combining both books, we follow young Alice (Kathryn Beaumont) as she follows the White Rabbit (Bill Thompson) down the Rabbit Hole and into Wonderland, where she meets a garden variety of crazy characters. Of course it all ends with the convenient "it's all a dream" technique, but much of what precedes is dazzling.
One thing you notice when watching multiple Disney films in a row are the recurring voice actors. I never noticed that Smee and the White Rabbit sounded the same, or that Sterling Holloway's myriad of characters all came from the same voice (they include Mr. Stork from Dumbo (1941), Cheshire Cat, Winnie the Pooh, Kaa the Snake, and Roquefort from The Aristocats (1970)). As a child, these voices completely disappear into the characters they are playing, but as an adult, you suddenly realize you're hearing the same voice actor in a different role.
Alice in Wonderland found second life and a cult following, become the number one requested 16 mm rental for university and private screenings. It's a shame this film didn't connect with audiences in 1951, but maybe this film was too ahead of its time then. Now, it is a model for abstract, visual storytelling. And we can all forget Tim Burton's drab sequel.
Peter Pan (1953)
I am so familiar with the story of Peter Pan that it feels almost pointless to write anything about it. Yes, we all know its the tale of a boy who refuses to grow up, and the wonderful adventures he takes Wendy Darling and her brothers on. Captain Hook and Smee are great villains, the Crocodile and his ticking clock make for one hilarious character.
One major difference between the Peter Pan musicals (and book, I assume) and this film is that Wendy, Michael and John all know who Peter Pan is. Wendy's stories are of Peter's exploits agains Captain Hook, and Peter himself listens with quiet zeal. In the original story, Wendy merely tells great stories, and Peter is a just a boy who loves listening to them. Makes Disney's Peter a bit pompous, actually.
One thorn in the Peter Pan story, and one that is front and center here, is the portrayal of the Native Americans, or Indians, in their most gloriously stereotypical fashion. Its where all youngsters learn "How" as a Native American greeting, and where many of those stereotypes will become embedded. Possibly the best and worst thing about Peter Pan is "What Makes the Red Man Red?" which is sung in honor of the Lost Boys and Indians joining up. It does contain some fantastic lyrics though:
When did he first say, "Ugh!"
When did he first say, "Ugh!"
In the Injun book it say
When the first brave married squaw
He gave out with a big ugh
When he saw his Mother-in-Law
Captain Hook and Smee are realized as fully threatening and hilarious villains. Most children are terrified of Captain Hook, but as one ages, his hijinks inspire more laughter. He still carries an edge of menace that is essential to the character, especially when he tries to bomb Peter instead of poisoning him.
With its own slew of memorable songs, Disney's version of Peter Pan works well, though its racist tendencies can make one a little uncomfortable. It comes with the territory, though, as thats embedded in the original book and subsequent plays and musicals. It's a fantasy world where these archetypes do exist.
Lady and the Tramp (1955)
This is without a doubt one of the most beautiful Disney films ever made, Disney's first use of CinemaScope Widescreen. I don't know why, but the 2.55:1 aspect ratio, or similar ones, look the most cinematic and the most epic. And while this is definitely is not the most epic Disney film, it allows the animators to fill the screen with lush backgrounds and tiny details.
The story itself is pretty simple. A husband and wife get a cocker spaniel, and treat the dog like their own child, until they have their own child and the dog is ignored for the new family member. When the man and woman go on a trip, they leave the dog, Lady, in the charge of their Aunt Sarah, who could care less for Lady and locks her up outside. Lady meets a streetwise scoundrel named Tramp, and a love flourishes between them which eventually leads to one of the great Disney scenes, where a plate of spaghetti and Bella Notte fill the night.
Once again an ethnic stereotype emerges in the form of the Siamese Cats, who have a strange song about being Siamese, or literally from Siam (now Thailand). I don't know exactly who it offends, but its weird enough to ponder its inclusion in the film. It doesn't help that the cats act as villains.
Revisiting all these old Disney films has demonstrated that some hold up better then others, but they are all entertaining because with adult eyes you see things you never saw before, understand others in a new light, and receive a huge nostalgia kick from the rest.
Part 4 will cover:
Sleeping Beauty (1959)
101 Dalmatians (1961)
The Sword in the Stone (1963)
The Jungle Book (1967)
The Aristocats (1970)
The last of Disney's package films is also probably the best, showcasing two stories that oddly work well together, translating classic American tales into Disney fiction. The first, detailing the exploits of Mr. Toad, is a fun adventure in which Mr. Toad is a menace behind whatever vehicle he is operating. This lands him in huge legal trouble with the townspeople, but soon Toad's friends Mole, Rat and Badger are out to prove that Toad was set-up.
Disney's take on Sleepy Hollow is also surprisingly dark, adhering to the major beats of the original tale. In fact, its most notable because Ichabod himself comes across as somewhat of a jerk, seeking the hand of Katrina von Tassel and upsetting Brom Bones. While Bones reminds one of Gaston, you actually kind of feel sorry for the guy as Ichabod upsets him at every turn.
Where the movie really shines, though, is in the chilling ending where the headless horsemen comes a-calling. True, Disney doesn't establish the threat into the moments right before Ichabod rides home with a song, but the fact that Ichabod doesn't survive the Disney version turns this rendition into a memorable ending that stayed with me all throughout my childhood. This is certainly the best version of the tale, definitely better then Tim Buton's take 50 years later.
Cinderella (1950)
After eight years Disney finally returned full feature animated stories with Cinderella, a tale everyone is familiar with, and maybe remembers too fondly. It's not a bad picture, and contains some wonderful characters including the Wicked Stepmother, her cat Lucifer, and the mice who are the supporting players. But it continues to suffer from the Disney syndrome of bland leads, including a Prince Charming that somehow makes less of an impact then the Snow White's Prince.
There are also some decent songs, including the Work Song, Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo and A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes. And the mice Gus and Jacques provide loving support, including the tense finale where they attempt to carry a huge key up an enormous flight of steps so that Cinderella can try on the slipper.
You all know the story, but even at 74 minutes the film feels placid. Nothing much happens for the duration, and there is a lot of filler in there to pad it out to length. Still, you can't deny the impact its had as a classic and one of the more well-remembered Disney films.
Alice in Wonderland (1951)
A box office failure for Disney, Alice in Wonderland holds up as a strange, abstract animated retelling of Lewis Carroll's seminal work. Combining both books, we follow young Alice (Kathryn Beaumont) as she follows the White Rabbit (Bill Thompson) down the Rabbit Hole and into Wonderland, where she meets a garden variety of crazy characters. Of course it all ends with the convenient "it's all a dream" technique, but much of what precedes is dazzling.
One thing you notice when watching multiple Disney films in a row are the recurring voice actors. I never noticed that Smee and the White Rabbit sounded the same, or that Sterling Holloway's myriad of characters all came from the same voice (they include Mr. Stork from Dumbo (1941), Cheshire Cat, Winnie the Pooh, Kaa the Snake, and Roquefort from The Aristocats (1970)). As a child, these voices completely disappear into the characters they are playing, but as an adult, you suddenly realize you're hearing the same voice actor in a different role.
Alice in Wonderland found second life and a cult following, become the number one requested 16 mm rental for university and private screenings. It's a shame this film didn't connect with audiences in 1951, but maybe this film was too ahead of its time then. Now, it is a model for abstract, visual storytelling. And we can all forget Tim Burton's drab sequel.
Peter Pan (1953)
I am so familiar with the story of Peter Pan that it feels almost pointless to write anything about it. Yes, we all know its the tale of a boy who refuses to grow up, and the wonderful adventures he takes Wendy Darling and her brothers on. Captain Hook and Smee are great villains, the Crocodile and his ticking clock make for one hilarious character.
One major difference between the Peter Pan musicals (and book, I assume) and this film is that Wendy, Michael and John all know who Peter Pan is. Wendy's stories are of Peter's exploits agains Captain Hook, and Peter himself listens with quiet zeal. In the original story, Wendy merely tells great stories, and Peter is a just a boy who loves listening to them. Makes Disney's Peter a bit pompous, actually.
One thorn in the Peter Pan story, and one that is front and center here, is the portrayal of the Native Americans, or Indians, in their most gloriously stereotypical fashion. Its where all youngsters learn "How" as a Native American greeting, and where many of those stereotypes will become embedded. Possibly the best and worst thing about Peter Pan is "What Makes the Red Man Red?" which is sung in honor of the Lost Boys and Indians joining up. It does contain some fantastic lyrics though:
When did he first say, "Ugh!"
When did he first say, "Ugh!"
In the Injun book it say
When the first brave married squaw
He gave out with a big ugh
When he saw his Mother-in-Law
Captain Hook and Smee are realized as fully threatening and hilarious villains. Most children are terrified of Captain Hook, but as one ages, his hijinks inspire more laughter. He still carries an edge of menace that is essential to the character, especially when he tries to bomb Peter instead of poisoning him.
With its own slew of memorable songs, Disney's version of Peter Pan works well, though its racist tendencies can make one a little uncomfortable. It comes with the territory, though, as thats embedded in the original book and subsequent plays and musicals. It's a fantasy world where these archetypes do exist.
Lady and the Tramp (1955)
This is without a doubt one of the most beautiful Disney films ever made, Disney's first use of CinemaScope Widescreen. I don't know why, but the 2.55:1 aspect ratio, or similar ones, look the most cinematic and the most epic. And while this is definitely is not the most epic Disney film, it allows the animators to fill the screen with lush backgrounds and tiny details.
The story itself is pretty simple. A husband and wife get a cocker spaniel, and treat the dog like their own child, until they have their own child and the dog is ignored for the new family member. When the man and woman go on a trip, they leave the dog, Lady, in the charge of their Aunt Sarah, who could care less for Lady and locks her up outside. Lady meets a streetwise scoundrel named Tramp, and a love flourishes between them which eventually leads to one of the great Disney scenes, where a plate of spaghetti and Bella Notte fill the night.
Once again an ethnic stereotype emerges in the form of the Siamese Cats, who have a strange song about being Siamese, or literally from Siam (now Thailand). I don't know exactly who it offends, but its weird enough to ponder its inclusion in the film. It doesn't help that the cats act as villains.
Revisiting all these old Disney films has demonstrated that some hold up better then others, but they are all entertaining because with adult eyes you see things you never saw before, understand others in a new light, and receive a huge nostalgia kick from the rest.
Part 4 will cover:
Sleeping Beauty (1959)
101 Dalmatians (1961)
The Sword in the Stone (1963)
The Jungle Book (1967)
The Aristocats (1970)
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Skyfall (2012)
50 years. It's almost astounding that Bond has made it this long, when Sean Connery first uttered those immortal words, "Bond. James Bond." That the series has now survived the bankruptcy of MGM is a testament to its lasting power. It's a part of our world culture now, as Bond stands as a representation of our ideal selves. Suave, sophisticated, Bond is the man we'd all like to be.
Until 1995's GoldenEye, Bond had never really been held to the fire regarding his ruthless killing streak. Bond has always killed in cold blood, but now we've arrived at a Bond who feels the consequences of his actions. He doesn't always come out of a firefight unscathed, and the deaths of those around him effect him even more.
Casino Royale (2006) laid the groundwork in what was a refreshing reboot of the Bond franchise, bringing a meaner, leaner Bond into the mix. But that was squandered in the problematic Quantum of Solace (2008) which forgot Bond's true roots, and instead imitated the Bourne films. After MGM declared bankruptcy, there was the threat that Bond might not return.
But now he's back, and Skyfall, the 23rd entry in the long running franchise, finally delivers on the promise established six years ago. Helmed by Sam Mendes, who proved he had a knack for action with 2002's Road to Perdition, this Bond delivers with several action sequences and one of the series best villains, who is less interested in global domination (which we've seen so many times) but instead carrying out a personal vendetta against MI6. It brings the fight to Bond in a way we've never seen in the series before, and M, played by the always astounding Judi Dench, is given the largest role we've seen for the character. She's essentially a co-star, not a supporting one.
The film, to my chagrin, does not open with the classic gun barrel, something Quantum of Solace surely should have done. Not to spoil to much but my worries that we might never see famous white dots again was put to rest at the end. What we do get are spectacular locations, including an opening chase scene that takes bond from a Jeep to motorcycle to the roof a train. It ranks up there with the best of them, and I was exhilarated during the entire event. It ends with a poor judgment call on M's part that leads to Bonds apparent death, but since we haven't seen the opening titles we know Bond will somehow survive.
The result is a Bond who, after 3 months away, returns when MI6 is bombed, and must return to the field of duty despite his less then prepared state. Many franchises have tried this before, most notably Pierce Brosnan's last foray as Bond Die Another Day (2002), which saw Bond held and tortured for a year. The hit TV show 24 also saw its hero Jack Bauer tortured for 18 months before returning the the fold. In both instances, though, they wave off the torture and perform some physically amazing stunts. And while Bond does do some spectacular things, there is a sense that he is wounded, that he's not always up the task. His poor aim spells death for one unfortunate character, where he might have saved her.
Even the final fight, which takes place in most unexpected location, is completely different from every Bond finale we've seen before. The stakes are higher, and the world is less threatened by the ensuing battle and its outcome. Bond fights for himself and other key players, and not for the safety of the world at large. It still manages to deliver on several fronts, as a satisfying action sequence and pulse-pounding thrill ride.
All of this is photographed by Roger Deakins, the Coen Bros.' go-to cinematographer, who brings a new look to Bond that fits the series well, Several fights are staged in darkened areas, as silhouettes against bright backdrops. The fact that this man has never won an Oscar is astonishing.
Bond is back. And hopefully the good will established in this film won't be squandered in the 24th entry. I should also mention the spectacular cast surrounding it all, including Ralph Fiennes, Javier Bardem as the villain, Ben Wishaw as the new Q, and Albert Finney.
Until 1995's GoldenEye, Bond had never really been held to the fire regarding his ruthless killing streak. Bond has always killed in cold blood, but now we've arrived at a Bond who feels the consequences of his actions. He doesn't always come out of a firefight unscathed, and the deaths of those around him effect him even more.
Casino Royale (2006) laid the groundwork in what was a refreshing reboot of the Bond franchise, bringing a meaner, leaner Bond into the mix. But that was squandered in the problematic Quantum of Solace (2008) which forgot Bond's true roots, and instead imitated the Bourne films. After MGM declared bankruptcy, there was the threat that Bond might not return.
But now he's back, and Skyfall, the 23rd entry in the long running franchise, finally delivers on the promise established six years ago. Helmed by Sam Mendes, who proved he had a knack for action with 2002's Road to Perdition, this Bond delivers with several action sequences and one of the series best villains, who is less interested in global domination (which we've seen so many times) but instead carrying out a personal vendetta against MI6. It brings the fight to Bond in a way we've never seen in the series before, and M, played by the always astounding Judi Dench, is given the largest role we've seen for the character. She's essentially a co-star, not a supporting one.
The film, to my chagrin, does not open with the classic gun barrel, something Quantum of Solace surely should have done. Not to spoil to much but my worries that we might never see famous white dots again was put to rest at the end. What we do get are spectacular locations, including an opening chase scene that takes bond from a Jeep to motorcycle to the roof a train. It ranks up there with the best of them, and I was exhilarated during the entire event. It ends with a poor judgment call on M's part that leads to Bonds apparent death, but since we haven't seen the opening titles we know Bond will somehow survive.
The result is a Bond who, after 3 months away, returns when MI6 is bombed, and must return to the field of duty despite his less then prepared state. Many franchises have tried this before, most notably Pierce Brosnan's last foray as Bond Die Another Day (2002), which saw Bond held and tortured for a year. The hit TV show 24 also saw its hero Jack Bauer tortured for 18 months before returning the the fold. In both instances, though, they wave off the torture and perform some physically amazing stunts. And while Bond does do some spectacular things, there is a sense that he is wounded, that he's not always up the task. His poor aim spells death for one unfortunate character, where he might have saved her.
Even the final fight, which takes place in most unexpected location, is completely different from every Bond finale we've seen before. The stakes are higher, and the world is less threatened by the ensuing battle and its outcome. Bond fights for himself and other key players, and not for the safety of the world at large. It still manages to deliver on several fronts, as a satisfying action sequence and pulse-pounding thrill ride.
All of this is photographed by Roger Deakins, the Coen Bros.' go-to cinematographer, who brings a new look to Bond that fits the series well, Several fights are staged in darkened areas, as silhouettes against bright backdrops. The fact that this man has never won an Oscar is astonishing.
Bond is back. And hopefully the good will established in this film won't be squandered in the 24th entry. I should also mention the spectacular cast surrounding it all, including Ralph Fiennes, Javier Bardem as the villain, Ben Wishaw as the new Q, and Albert Finney.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
The Book of Mormon
How to review the Book of Mormon? No doubt it has become a huge Broadway success and will likely run for many, many years, as it consistently sells out show after show after show. And now the show is touring the country, and is setting up shop in Chicago and London, which is the true measure of how long it will last.
I could sit here and talk about the show's plot at length, dissect its religious bashing and caricature of the Mormon beliefs. But what I really want to discuss is the humor. For Broadway, this has got to be the most crass, the most lowbrow, the most hilarious ever seen. I've never been to a show where the audience has been laughing for almost the entire duration of the show (except in those few, rare, tender moments) and the humor has been so vile.
Its actually a miracle this show has done so well. If you've seen South Park or the movie version, or Team America or any other work produced by Trey Parker and Matt Stone (save BASEketball, which they had no hand in making) you know they pull no punches and will go wherever they please. Book of Mormon's main jokes revolve around female circumcision, baby rape, and maggots in scrotums. It's base. And it's brilliant.
The show gets away with so much because it surrounds all this humor in upbeat and memorable musical numbers, mostly staged by the Mormons. Their sunny optimism and outlook keep the show up, and keep the spirit from becoming so mean, which can be a fault with Parker and Stone's other ventures. True there is the wonderful song Hasa Diga Eebowai, which I won't translate for fear of spoiling the punchline, but most of the numbers are more clever in their crudeness.
I make it no secret I am a huge admirer of Parker and Stone; their South Park is one of the best television shows ever made, a biting and base satire of the world. One episode can be a simple, crude story of the boys getting into crazy shenanigans, and the next they can be tearing down celebrities and pointing out the farce that is the American Dream. Book of Mormon is more pointed in its satire, but one should realize that it doesn't completely denounce religion altogether. (spoilers) During the show, one Mormon fashions a new version of the holy text to apply to the Africans they are trying to convert, by addressing the issues of AIDs, rape, and circumcision, which the Book doesn't directly address. The Africans (Ugandans, more accurately) don't believe the stories but take them as metaphors, stating, "You really think Joseph Smith fucked a frog?" (end spoilers)
Its amazing where we've come in the spectrum of Broadway musicals. I'm sure there are other, cruder musicals out there, but this one succeeded. This one took home 9 Tony awards, is selling out everywhere, and is as crude as shows come. Parker and Stone, along with Avenue Q composer Robert Lopez, have made a miracle of a show. Its vile, its base, its crude...and its the funniest show you'll ever see.
I could sit here and talk about the show's plot at length, dissect its religious bashing and caricature of the Mormon beliefs. But what I really want to discuss is the humor. For Broadway, this has got to be the most crass, the most lowbrow, the most hilarious ever seen. I've never been to a show where the audience has been laughing for almost the entire duration of the show (except in those few, rare, tender moments) and the humor has been so vile.
Its actually a miracle this show has done so well. If you've seen South Park or the movie version, or Team America or any other work produced by Trey Parker and Matt Stone (save BASEketball, which they had no hand in making) you know they pull no punches and will go wherever they please. Book of Mormon's main jokes revolve around female circumcision, baby rape, and maggots in scrotums. It's base. And it's brilliant.
The show gets away with so much because it surrounds all this humor in upbeat and memorable musical numbers, mostly staged by the Mormons. Their sunny optimism and outlook keep the show up, and keep the spirit from becoming so mean, which can be a fault with Parker and Stone's other ventures. True there is the wonderful song Hasa Diga Eebowai, which I won't translate for fear of spoiling the punchline, but most of the numbers are more clever in their crudeness.
I make it no secret I am a huge admirer of Parker and Stone; their South Park is one of the best television shows ever made, a biting and base satire of the world. One episode can be a simple, crude story of the boys getting into crazy shenanigans, and the next they can be tearing down celebrities and pointing out the farce that is the American Dream. Book of Mormon is more pointed in its satire, but one should realize that it doesn't completely denounce religion altogether. (spoilers) During the show, one Mormon fashions a new version of the holy text to apply to the Africans they are trying to convert, by addressing the issues of AIDs, rape, and circumcision, which the Book doesn't directly address. The Africans (Ugandans, more accurately) don't believe the stories but take them as metaphors, stating, "You really think Joseph Smith fucked a frog?" (end spoilers)
Its amazing where we've come in the spectrum of Broadway musicals. I'm sure there are other, cruder musicals out there, but this one succeeded. This one took home 9 Tony awards, is selling out everywhere, and is as crude as shows come. Parker and Stone, along with Avenue Q composer Robert Lopez, have made a miracle of a show. Its vile, its base, its crude...and its the funniest show you'll ever see.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The Wonderful World of Disney: Part 2
I've fallen behind in reviews and jumped ahead in the film repertoire, so I'm reaching back to a few months ago to review these films.
Disney's run of spectacular films was sadly ended by the U.S.'s entry into WWII, causing most of the animation staff to be drafted up into the war effort. Those ineligible stayed, and so what follows in the Disney stable are several films cobbled together from ideas that were forming in the past. Essentially they are anthology films, not unlike Fantasia (1940) though none reach the genius level of that film.
The first two can be paired together, Saludos Amigos (1942) and The Three Caballeros (1944). Both films take a particular interest in South American culture, with Amigos jumping around to various locations and animating stories based on the environment. The shorts are framed around home movie footage of Disney animators flying and visiting their various destinations, which makes it almost a pseudo-documentary. It's also the shortest Disney feature to date, at 42 minutes, and some will probably complain about its official status, but there you go.
The shorts themselves range from decent to bleh, with the highlight being a cute little airplane named Pedro who makes a treacherous mail delivery past a demon mountain of some sort. Goofy shows up as a Gaucho, educating children on the Latino version of the cowboy; Donald Duck has adventures in Lake Titicaca; and the animators invent a new character, Jose Carioca, that green parrot who teaches Donald about the night life of Rio de Janeiro. He's not the most charismatic character, in spite of the animator's best efforts, and there is a reason he is unknown outside of die-hard Disney fan circles.
Caballeros is a longer iteration of Amigos, and is more of the same. It runs at 71 minutes, but even that runtime sags and begins to stretch the limitations of one's patience. Donald receives three gifts from friends down south which proceed to educate him on Central and South America. The best short involves a penguin fed up by the Arctic, and his attempts to make it north to more tropical and friendly environments. It's narrated by Sterling Holloway, and if you don't recognize that name, just wait. He's going to be popping up a lot more in the reviews to come. Jose Carioca returns for more Samba, and there is a long, strange live action-animation blend where Donald and Carioca interact with a samba dancer and her crew. The film is really a mess, meanders on too long, and leaves very little impact. It has its moments, and Donald is always fun to see, but there comes a point in the viewing where you get bored and want it to end already.
And now we enter the run of "package" films. These films are full of ideas that the studio was working on, and were either too long to be considered shorts but too short to be considered features. Make Mine Music (1946) is a collective of several Disney shorts, though the one most will remember is Peter & the Wolf. It uses the famous score written by Sergei Prokofiev, which features different instruments representing the different players in the scenario. Sterling Holloway once again narrates, but I find his voice over distracting and unnecessary. The Disney animators convey the story so perfectly through the emotions and expressions of the characters, and I feel like Disney didn't trust the children to understand what was going on without everything being spelled out.
The best short is the Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met, featuring the operatic Nelson Eddy who supplies every voice and vocal range of the short. The Whale at the Met is always a notoriously depressing short, as Willy the Whale attracts attention from all over, his only dream to sing at the Metropolitan in New York. Someone reasons that the whale must have swallowed an opera singer, and sets out to kill the whale. It's all hilariously tragic, and one of Disney's better shorts.
Make Mine Music is also notorious for the omitted short Martins vs. the Coys, which is too bad because its also pretty good. Removed because of "comic gunplay," this short (which you can find on YouTube) features two rival families who start shooting at each other, until only one guy and one girl from opposing sides is left. They naturally fall in love, while their ancestors watch from heaven. Its curious that Disney has decided this short to be inappropriate, yet are forced to stick with their more insensitive portrayals of ethnicities throughout their filmography. When you watch it, is it really that different from Elmer Fudd hunting Bugs Bunny?
Fun & Fancy Free (1947) features two shorts and a very odd live-action middle portion. The first is Bongo, about a circus bear who escapes to the wild and finds true love, though he fails to understand that bears smack each other to show they love each other (one of Disney's more hilarious songs). Many will remember the second short, Mickey and the Beanstalk, of course a retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk. But randomly, in the middle, Jiminy Cricket shows up and goes over to some ventriloquist's house, where a little girl is being entertained by the various cheeky puppets. Its such an off-beat and almost creepy section that ruins the charm of the two shorts. Basically, Bongo and Beanstalk are best viewed on their own.
And finally there is Melody Time (1948), again a big compilation of shorts, and the best one. Featured are Johnny Appleseed, which really needs no explanation. He's just such a determined little fella' with his pot hat and appleseeds. The other is Pecos Bill, sung by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneer, a story about a boy raised by wolves in the old west, and who grows up to become the manliest man there is. His horse gets jealous when he falls for a girl, however, and zany situations ensue. Other shorts fill in the gaps, including Little Toot, about a tugboat that fucks everyone's shit up, and the return of Jose Carioca for one more attempt at being popular. His Samba once again does not impress.
Of course, the majority of the films here were released Post-War, as Disney and his team were preparing to release their first full narrative story in 8 years, Cinderella (1950). For anyone interested in what the Silly Symphonies were like, the majority of these shorts give you a pretty solid foundation. Sure none of them leave a lasting impact, and upon reflection these are the films that will probably fall at the bottom of most lists just based on unrecognizability. But there is still a charm to these tales, and in one way or another, you probably know most of them already.
Disney's run of spectacular films was sadly ended by the U.S.'s entry into WWII, causing most of the animation staff to be drafted up into the war effort. Those ineligible stayed, and so what follows in the Disney stable are several films cobbled together from ideas that were forming in the past. Essentially they are anthology films, not unlike Fantasia (1940) though none reach the genius level of that film.
The first two can be paired together, Saludos Amigos (1942) and The Three Caballeros (1944). Both films take a particular interest in South American culture, with Amigos jumping around to various locations and animating stories based on the environment. The shorts are framed around home movie footage of Disney animators flying and visiting their various destinations, which makes it almost a pseudo-documentary. It's also the shortest Disney feature to date, at 42 minutes, and some will probably complain about its official status, but there you go.
The shorts themselves range from decent to bleh, with the highlight being a cute little airplane named Pedro who makes a treacherous mail delivery past a demon mountain of some sort. Goofy shows up as a Gaucho, educating children on the Latino version of the cowboy; Donald Duck has adventures in Lake Titicaca; and the animators invent a new character, Jose Carioca, that green parrot who teaches Donald about the night life of Rio de Janeiro. He's not the most charismatic character, in spite of the animator's best efforts, and there is a reason he is unknown outside of die-hard Disney fan circles.
Caballeros is a longer iteration of Amigos, and is more of the same. It runs at 71 minutes, but even that runtime sags and begins to stretch the limitations of one's patience. Donald receives three gifts from friends down south which proceed to educate him on Central and South America. The best short involves a penguin fed up by the Arctic, and his attempts to make it north to more tropical and friendly environments. It's narrated by Sterling Holloway, and if you don't recognize that name, just wait. He's going to be popping up a lot more in the reviews to come. Jose Carioca returns for more Samba, and there is a long, strange live action-animation blend where Donald and Carioca interact with a samba dancer and her crew. The film is really a mess, meanders on too long, and leaves very little impact. It has its moments, and Donald is always fun to see, but there comes a point in the viewing where you get bored and want it to end already.
And now we enter the run of "package" films. These films are full of ideas that the studio was working on, and were either too long to be considered shorts but too short to be considered features. Make Mine Music (1946) is a collective of several Disney shorts, though the one most will remember is Peter & the Wolf. It uses the famous score written by Sergei Prokofiev, which features different instruments representing the different players in the scenario. Sterling Holloway once again narrates, but I find his voice over distracting and unnecessary. The Disney animators convey the story so perfectly through the emotions and expressions of the characters, and I feel like Disney didn't trust the children to understand what was going on without everything being spelled out.
The best short is the Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met, featuring the operatic Nelson Eddy who supplies every voice and vocal range of the short. The Whale at the Met is always a notoriously depressing short, as Willy the Whale attracts attention from all over, his only dream to sing at the Metropolitan in New York. Someone reasons that the whale must have swallowed an opera singer, and sets out to kill the whale. It's all hilariously tragic, and one of Disney's better shorts.
Make Mine Music is also notorious for the omitted short Martins vs. the Coys, which is too bad because its also pretty good. Removed because of "comic gunplay," this short (which you can find on YouTube) features two rival families who start shooting at each other, until only one guy and one girl from opposing sides is left. They naturally fall in love, while their ancestors watch from heaven. Its curious that Disney has decided this short to be inappropriate, yet are forced to stick with their more insensitive portrayals of ethnicities throughout their filmography. When you watch it, is it really that different from Elmer Fudd hunting Bugs Bunny?
Fun & Fancy Free (1947) features two shorts and a very odd live-action middle portion. The first is Bongo, about a circus bear who escapes to the wild and finds true love, though he fails to understand that bears smack each other to show they love each other (one of Disney's more hilarious songs). Many will remember the second short, Mickey and the Beanstalk, of course a retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk. But randomly, in the middle, Jiminy Cricket shows up and goes over to some ventriloquist's house, where a little girl is being entertained by the various cheeky puppets. Its such an off-beat and almost creepy section that ruins the charm of the two shorts. Basically, Bongo and Beanstalk are best viewed on their own.
And finally there is Melody Time (1948), again a big compilation of shorts, and the best one. Featured are Johnny Appleseed, which really needs no explanation. He's just such a determined little fella' with his pot hat and appleseeds. The other is Pecos Bill, sung by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneer, a story about a boy raised by wolves in the old west, and who grows up to become the manliest man there is. His horse gets jealous when he falls for a girl, however, and zany situations ensue. Other shorts fill in the gaps, including Little Toot, about a tugboat that fucks everyone's shit up, and the return of Jose Carioca for one more attempt at being popular. His Samba once again does not impress.
Of course, the majority of the films here were released Post-War, as Disney and his team were preparing to release their first full narrative story in 8 years, Cinderella (1950). For anyone interested in what the Silly Symphonies were like, the majority of these shorts give you a pretty solid foundation. Sure none of them leave a lasting impact, and upon reflection these are the films that will probably fall at the bottom of most lists just based on unrecognizability. But there is still a charm to these tales, and in one way or another, you probably know most of them already.
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