Cinderella (1950) dir. Clyde Geronimo, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske
Voices by: Ilene Woods, Eleanor Audley, Verna Felton, Rhoda Williams, James MacDonald

By Alan Bacchus

History could define four specific phases of Disney classical animation: the pre-war Golden Age of Animation (1937 to 1942), which included Snow White, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo and Bambi; the post-WWII films, from Cinderella (1950) to The Aristocats (1970); the post-Walt period of films conceived after his death, from Robin Hood (1973) to Oliver and Company (1988); and finally, the studio resurgence under the Jeffrey Katzenberg regime ― the pre-Pixar period, from The Little Mermaid (1989) to The Lion King (1994).

The Golden Age of Animation is still the height of Disney's artistic endeavours, a monumental creative output that put the "magic" in "the Magic Kingdom." Arguably there were lesser returns post-WWII; it took eight years after Bambi for Walt Disney to produce his next full-fledged animated feature, Cinderella, a return to the bread-and-butter subject matter. It's the well-known fairy tale about a downtrodden step-child of an abusive mother, who, with the help of the magical creatures of the land and a fairy godmother, usurp the destinies of her evil step-sisters to capture the heart of the handsome prince.

Uncle Walt always preferred the collaborative method of animation, assigning sequences to different animators, the effect of which made each film feel like a series of sequenced set pieces. In Cinderella this feeling remains. Of the memorable standalone scenes there's the action-oriented interactions of Lucifer the evil cat and the helpful mice; the dressmaking sequence, where the magical animals of the kingdom work together to craft the dress for Cinderella to wear to the ball; and, of course, the fairy godmother's transformation of Cinderella in preparation for the ball, including the memorable "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" song.

Cinderella features some of the most striking visual compositions of any of the Disney features; it was the most baroque of the Disney films up until then. The step-mother's castle is wonderfully Roman-esque. Inspired by the Neuschwanstein Castle of Bavaria, it became the most iconic of the Disney brand imagery. Disney uses this elegant but imposing extravagance throughout the film ― look for the expressive use of long shadows and other haunting noir and Gothic imagery to create the film's unique, brooding, Germanic feeling.

The special features of the Disney Diamond Collection include an alternative opening scene, a look back at the real-life inspiration for the memorable fairy godmother character, a more comprehensive making-of featurette and a short film based on a new CGI animated feature Tangled. It's a curious addition that shows the dramatic difference of animation styles between 1950 and today.

This review first appeared on Exclaim.ca

Dumbo (1942) dir. Various
Voices by: Sterling Holloway, Edward Brophy and James Baskett

****

By Alan Bacchus

The second last of the great 'Golden Age of Animation' Disney films, including Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Fantasia, Pinocchio, Bambi and Dumbo sparkle with a kind of cinema magic unlike any other films in history. The incredibly touching story of a ridiculed baby elephant with big ears born into a circus troupe who realizes his ears can make him fly and achieve unrivalled greatness and success resonates so strongly because of its universal message of marginalization and triumph over adversity.

The scant narrative with barely any dialogue and the artistry with movement, colour and music give this (and all Golden Age Disney films) the same kind of lyrical grace as a silent film. There isn't one credited director on Dumbo. Instead, Walt Disney created his films by assigning sequences to several animation directors who worked independently but with creative guidance from Disney himself. In today's environment, Walt Disney would have been credited as director, which makes it all so ironic that, other than the opening presentation, he doesn't even have a credit on the film.

This is one of the reasons why these Disney films feel so different and special compared to feature animation films today. Looking closely at the narrative, Dumbo is essentially a series of linked set pieces, like Fantasia but with a through line and narrative arc. Take the opening sequence, for example, during which the storks drop off the bundles of joy to the circus animals. The animation of the baby animals is impossibly cute, ending with the endearing sadness of poor Jumbo the elephant left without a newborn. The arrival of Dumbo from the late stork is its own sequence, as is the bounding preparation montage scene of the faceless humans building up the circus tents.

Of the minimal dialogue scenes, the female elephant colleagues of Dumbo's that act like a peanut gallery of sorts who bully and ridicule poor Dumbo are characterized as a group of snobby neighbourhood gossipers who resent Jumbo’s and Dumbo's assimilation with their group. Their comeuppance at the end when Dumbo shows off his ability to fly results in a truly awesome sequence. Dumbo and Timothy the mouse falling from the burning building without Dumbo's trusty magic feather is a tense sequence, climaxing when Dumbo's ears successfully pop out and help them glide overtop of the circus crowd and the awestruck elephant group.

And in between the traditional story, there's the remarkable 'parade of elephants' sequence, which sticks out like a psychedelic fantasy 25 years before people were dropping acid. Under anyone else's watch, the shear length of the sequence, which cuts into the third act of the film, might have threatened the forward flow of the film. But it's consistent with the episodic nature of all these Golden Age pictures and Uncle Walt's innate knowledge of what stimulates children's imaginations.

Remarkably, Dumbo is only a 63-minute movie and features a simplicity in both story and structure that is missing from today's 'family' pictures. Sadly, with America entering into WWII at the time, Dumbo was the penultimate picture of the pre-war period films. Bambi would be released a year later – arguably the best of the period. And, with the exception of the 'packaged features' (feature length compilations of Disney shorts), it wouldn't be until 1950's Cinderella that Disney would make another animated feature.

Pinocchio (1940) dir. Various
Voices by: Cliff Edwards, Dickie Jones, Christian Rub, Mel Blanc, Walter Catlett, Charles Judels

***1/2

By Alan Bacchus

We all remember Pinocchio for the dreamy opening music, ‘When You Wish Upon a Star,’ which became the theme song for the entire Disney Empire. But the rest of the film is a surprisingly terrifying experience, at least for parents. Looking back on the Disney animated version, the story goes like this: a humble and lonely Italian puppeteer, Geppetto, makes a wish upon the first star he sees in the sky, to have his newly created wooden stringed puppet turned into a real boy. Overnight, the blue fairy comes down and grants Geppetto his wish. Pinocchio comes to life, though he is still made of wood and without the ability to grow like a real human.

Though startled, Geppetto accepts the boy puppet as his son and sends him off to school – alone! Pinocchio never even makes it to the school, as he’s intercepted by a nefarious moustache-twirling con artist Fox who tricks him into joining the circus. In reality, the Fox takes a large sum of money from the even more maniacal circus wrangler, Stromboli, in exchange for Pinocchio’s indentured servitude. Hell, Pinocchio even gets locked up in a birdcage as a form of punishment for trying to go home. Pinocchio’s best friend and the embodiment of his ‘conscience’, Jiminy Cricket, saves the day and rescues the boy. But they both soon find out that Geppetto has been swallowed by a whale during his search for Pinocchio. The journey climaxes in the mouth of the whale and a dramatic escape literally from the jaws of death.

As a parent who is about to send his year-and-a-half old son to daycare for the first time, Pinocchio may not have been the best movie to watch. Under Walt Disney’s careful eye, he’s sure to inject all of the thought-provoking moralistic themes of life and death, good and evil. Few ‘cartoons’ had a more palpable and visceral sense of danger or threat on their characters.

Pinocchio is the embodiment of innocence. He’s as naive and inexperienced in life as a newborn child, and so Geppetto’s, and to some degree Jiminy Cricket’s, irresponsibility with Pinocchio’s care is the most grievous act in the film. Both characters let the innocent boy out into the world without any care whatsoever.

Pinocchio’s journey into the seedy underworld of life is wholly traumatic. Stromboli’s gruesome circus prison is dark and disturbing, but the mysterious Pleasure Island, which is cause for nightmares for both adults and children, is downright delirious. After a brief escape, Pinocchio is coaxed back by the Fox to a grotesque amusement park of carnality and debaucherous behaviour. We can’t help but think of what kind of abusive metaphors are at play in this sequence. Sure, we see Pinocchio pressured into gambling, smoking, drinking and engaging in destructive behaviour, but it’s when Pinocchio and the children start sprouting big ears and tails and turning into donkeys that the film starts to warp into a surreptitious drug trip metaphor.

And if there was a lesson for parents to use to educate their children about the dangers of the outside world and the need to guide them toward honesty and decency, read what you like into the creepy conversation between the Fox (aka Foulfellow) and the Coachman, who takes Pinocchio to Pleasure Island:

The Coachman: How would you blokes like to make some real money?
Foulfellow: Well! And who do we have to, eh... [Makes throat-slashing motion]
The Coachman: No, no. Nothing like that. You see...
The Coachman: I'm collecting stupid little boys.
Foulfellow: Stupid little boys?
The Coachman: You know, the disobedient ones who play hooky from school.
Foulfellow: Ohh!
The Coachman: And you see...I takes 'em to Pleasure Island.
Foulfellow: Ah, Pleasure Island. [suddenly shocked] Pleasure Island? But the law! Suppose they...
The Coachman: No, no. There is no risk. They never come back... as BOYS.

Bambi (1942) dir. David S. Hand
Animated voices by: Hardie Albright, Stan Alexander, Peter Behn, Tim Davis, Donnie Dunagan

****

By Alan Bacchus

In terms of Disney chronology, by release date, Bambi was Disney’s fifth feature film, after Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Fantasia, Pinocchio and Dumbo, but more importantly, it was the last in the remarkable ‘Golden Age of Animation’. If John Ford made an animated film it might be this one, a tender and dreamy romanticization of the majestic North American forest and wilderness.

Bambi's closest relative in the Disney canon might just be Fantasia, more an visual/tonal essay than a traditional fairytale or other narrative story. There’s very little story to be told at all here, instead, using a dance of image, sounds and music Disney shows us the cycle of life of the creatures of the forest, specifically the majestic deer.

Over the course of four seasons we see the titular Bambi, birthed by her mother into the ecosystem of rabbits, skunks, birds under cover of the enormous trees which look upon these animals. As each season passes, Bambi moves through each stage in his lifecycle, learning to walk, playing with friends, learning the pack hierarchy of his fellow deer, and even procreating for the next generation.

Disney compartmentalizes his scenes in distinct set pieces not unlike Fantasia. The magical work of the handdrawn animators is exquisite, the ice-skating sequence for instance, each movement of Thumper's to teach Bambi how to stand and move on the ice in time with the music creates a touching and delightful dance. Tonally Disney masterfully moves the audience between moments of pure cuddly cuteness to dark and heavy emotional turmoil. The death of Bambi’s mother is a legendary moment in animation – a scene which has stayed with all of us who watched it as children. Looking back with adult eyes, it feels a lot different, quicker than I had remembered. In fact we don’t even see the mother die, the moment is played entirely off screen, leaving us only with Bambi's heartbreaking tear rolling down his face to tell us what happened. A moment so powerful it ranks up with Chaplin’s smile at the end of City Lights in terms of tearjerking moments in cinema.

In between Disney takes time to craft a number of scenes of just pure visual delight. The storm sequence for instance feels right out of Fantasia, and the stag sequence, that is, the running of the male deer through across the plains is like Howard Hawks' cattle stampede sequence in Red River, or the Buffalo Hunt in Dances With Wolves.

It’s interesting to note on the Disney Diamond Edition Blu-Ray, the year of the film’s original release is never stated. Obviously it's a conscious choice by the studio to not place Bambi in a specific era, literally creating a timelessness to its products. Indeed although children may notice differences in animation styles between now and then, Bambi is a film for the ages, adaptable for each new generation. Disney has always done this well, timing their re-releases of their films so that each time it comes back on the market it’s as if we’re all seeing it again for the first time.

Bambi is available on Blu-Ray from Walt Disney Home Entertainment

Fantasia (1940) dir. Ten people get credits, but really, it’s Walt Disney
Animation

****

By Alan Bacchus

It’s kinda hard to believe that Fantasia was made in 1940, and was only Disney’s third feature film (after Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pinocchio). And since Pinocchio was released the same year as Fantasia, 1940, we can realistically say the film was conceived and produced after only having one animated film released. Snow White, of course, was a huge hit, but it was a narrative feature based on a fairy tale, with singing and dancing, a love story, a prince and a princess!

Fantasia is a non-narrative film, without dialogue, without singing, without any traditional characters all timed with classical music. In short, an experimental film in a time when there was no such word. It was cookie-cutter studio system at it’s peak. What a gamble, and what a success. Well not initially, the film was a financial failure, and took years before audience caught up to Disney's forward thinking.

It’s actually a slow start to the picture. A live action introduction, Deems Tayler, music critic, talking to the camera tells us exactly what we’re about to see, and listening to the warming up of the orchestra. The first musical segment, Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, features an abstract piece of animation, which to audiences used to the rambunctious qualities of Disney’s work must have been shocked, or bored or both.

In fact, the majority of the eight sequences are abstract in nature. The Rite of Spring for instance tells an ambitious and the possibly controversial 'non-creationist' history of the earth, from the planetary formation to the evolution of dinosaurs into man. It, like every thing else in the film, is a delight to watch, imaginative and intellectually stimulating. One of the most most traditional or mainstream accessible segments is the Nutcracker Suite featuring Tchaikovsky’s marvellous, foot tapping compositions, along with a series of brilliant shorts showing the ballet dancers as mushrooms, thistles, blossoms and goldfish.

The Scorceror’s Apprentice is the celebrated piece, with Mickey Mouse battling the army of wooden brooms endlessly filling his water basin with water, thus causing a biblical-worthy flood.

The Pastoral Symphony by Beethoven offers a fun and delictable showcase of Greek and Roman mythology including blatantly nude female centaurs, and..ahem... Bacchus, Roman God of Wine, partaking in his debaucherous behaviour.

The varied animation styles and changing tones from comedic to dark, brooding and heavy to light and ethereal is what makes the film so special. But there’s no doubt we can see the German expressionism influence and prevailing gothic style of the 1930’s. Especially the big finale, the first part, set to Modest Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain , featuring a dark demon giant, a Chernabog, summoning up the evil creatures of the dead to roam the earth, before being turned away by the sound of a Angelus bell and a procession of torch-bearing monks. The perfect composition work combined with the Ava Maria music makes for a heavenly finale and in fine Disney fashion, the triumph of good over evil.

It’s the first time on Blu-Ray for Fantasia, packaged with the 2000 revival version Fantasia 2000, a very minor film in comparison, a noble effort to use Disney’s inspiration and create a modern version his celebration of music. Unfortunately without the real Walt Disney at the helm, the ‘magic touch’ just isn’t there. The 1940 version is the real treasure here.

“Fantasia and Fantasia 2000” is available on Blu-Ray from Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment


Fantasia | Movie Trailer

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) dir. David Hand
Voices by: Adriana Caselotti, Roy Atwell, Lucille La Verne, Moroni Olsen

****

By Alan Bacchus

For consistency I have to identify ‘David Hand’ as director of this picture, because, this is how I title all my film reviews. We all know, of course, this misrepresents the authorship of this picture, the visionary entertainer Walt Disney. In fact, other than the opening credit ‘Walt Disney Presents’ Walt’s not even listed as a producer.

So is the effect of Mr. Disney on animation, the movies, and pop culture in general - an unclassifiable artist, producer, director, writer, entrepreneur, animator and all of the above. “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” is indeed the brainchild of Disney’s desire to create the first-ever feature length animated film, a medium which up until then served only in short form to warm audiences up to the longer, more prestigious feature pictures. And so to produce a film with such a distinct assimilation of comedy and pathos the first time out of the gate, makes it one of the great milestones in cinema. The leap in technology and storytelling was so big, few milestones in cinema can compare.

Based on the Grimm’s fairytale, the story is told with same simplicity as in its literary form. The evil Queen who is so vain, looks into her magical mirror and asks ‘who is the fairest in the land’. Expecting to hear her own name repeated back, she's angered to hear it’s ‘Snow White’, a gorgeous raven-haired princess. Seething with jealousy, she sends one of her minions to kill her and to reclaim the title. But when the soldier arrives on the grounds of her estate about to stab her in the back, he catches sight of her innocent and ravishing beauty. He just can’t do the deed and tells her to flee into the woods for safety.

And so Snow White goes running away from danger into a dark, gothic and gloomy forest, alien and frightening. But the forest reveals itself to be a utopian land of cute furry animals who take to Snow White as one of their own. The princess and her mammalian followers eventually stroll into the home of the seven dwarfs, a group of happy-go-lucky, working class little people. Snow White is ingratiated into their home, a joyous occasion with much singing, dancing, and frolicking. But when the evil Queen discovers Snow White is still alive, she plots her demise via a poisoned apple which will render her asleep forever – unless her “prince” can smack with her a kiss and bring her back to life.

If this film were to be made today by Disney I doubt it would even make it past the first round of script coverage. The story is revealed to us with a seemingly unsophisticated simplicity of its fairy tale origins - very little dialogue, only a few talking characters, none of the bunnies, deer or other forest animals, and absolutely no pop culture references. This is what makes rewatching 'Snow White' the ultimate reboot. We can see how far, technically, Hollywood has come in terms of animation and the types of pop cultural referential storytelling which prevails in almost every animated film. 'Snow White' serves as the rock solid immovable foundation of everything after it.

Even before 1937, the animation rendering of 'Snow White's' characters is a result of a decade of fine-tuning the Disney style with hundreds of Mickey-related shorts. And for decades since, the fluid motion and watercolour pastel visuals are inimitable and timeless. Looking carefully, there is not much to Snow White's character visually. Her face is drawn without any detail, a flat uncountoured look which serves to play off the exuberant and highly developed and distinct personalities of the dwarfs - Dopey’s slapticky amblings, Doc’s deliberate and controlled presence, and Bashful’s adorable shy sweetness comes off only with physicality.

The most remarkable and resonating achievement of ‘Snow White’ is it’s enchanting tone and pathos. The remarkable imagery of Snow White’s funeral send what would have been considered delightful cartoon film up until this point in the film into the stratosphere of cinematic grandiosity. The expressive and art deco framing of the dwarfs surrounding Snow White’s lifeless body, with angled streams of light from the clouds is typical of that prevailed artistic movement of the 20’s and 30’s – a blend of modern futurist design with the Baroque 16th century renaissance styles.

The reverence of the mythological tone of Grimm's fairytale with the technical advancements of the new merged with unprecedented success artistically and monetarily. Upon release, 1937 ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ was then the highest grossing film ever made, and to this day, when adjusted for inflation, sits at #10 of all time.

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” is available on sparkling Blu-Ray from Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment. The film is presented in two formats, 4x3 original aspect ratio, framed with the vertical black bars on widescreen television as as well as in ‘Disney-vision’ where the vertical bars are replaced with traditional watercolour hand drawn borders complimenting each scene. The reverence to the original source material with this Disney vision is admirable and work a look, but the viewing experience is arguably best seen without this distraction. The special features includes a number of well-produced interactive featurettes constructed like a puzzle. The navigation through each segment is fun at first then quickly turns frustrating for those who would prefer just to see them all sequentially and uninterrupted.