Category Archives: disney renaissance

“I was saved by a flying wild man in a loincloth!”

Posted on by under brandie's faves, disney renaissance, lit adaptations, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

1999 marked a turning point for the Walt Disney Animation Studios in more ways than one. It was the ten-year anniversary of the release of The Little Mermaid, which had heralded the company’s veritable rebirth in the subsequent decade. It saw the release of Toy Story 2, the third critically-acclaimed film produced in a lucrative partnership with the computer-animation pioneers over at Pixar. And the company was not concentrating all of its efforts on computer animation; by that time, the Disney animators had further revolutionized the art of traditional animation through the development of a technology called “Deep Canvas,” which crafted highly-detailed CGI backgrounds that looked remarkably hand-drawn. Ultimately, this innovation would completely transform the final traditionally-animated film of the so-called “Disney Renaissance” period, Tarzan.

Tarzan, (very) loosely adapted from the novel Tarzan of the Apes (and its numerous sequels) by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is the story of a human boy who, upon being stranded on a tropical island off the coast of Africa in the 1800s, adapts to his environment after being adopted by a troop of gorillas. His parents, survivors of a devastating shipwreck, are killed by a leopard while the boy is still an infant, and he is subsequently adopted by Kala (voiced by Glenn Close), who names the boy Tarzan (Alex D. Linz). Kala’s mate, Kerchak (Lance Henrickson), does not care for the human interloper, but Kala persists and raises Tarzan as her own. Years later, a now grown-up Tarzan (Tony Goldwyn) encounters Jane (Minnie Driver) and her father, the bumbling Professor Porter (Nigel Hawthorne), who have come to the island to study the gorillas. They are accompanied by Clayton (Brian Blessed), a big-game hunter who secretly wishes to capture the gorillas and take them back to England to sell. As Tarzan and Jane fall in love–much to Kerchak’s displeasure–they also fall prey to Clayton’s machinations and must find a way to stop him before Tarzan’s gorilla family is torn apart.

As I mentioned before, Disney’s version is an extremely altered adaptation of Burroughs’ original tales. In much the same way Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame was severely altered in its journey to the animated big screen, so too was Tarzan virtually sanitized by Disney’s family-friendly police. In Burroughs’ stories, Kerchak (who is an ape, not a gorilla) kills Tarzan’s father (the boy’s mother dies in childbirth) and is Tarzan’s greatest rival among his adopted “family.” Tarzan is eventually challenged by Kerchak and kills him in order to take the ape’s place as the group’s leader. Also, in the first novel, Tarzan’s adoptive mother, Kala, is killed by a member of an African tribe, and he seeks revenge by killing the man responsible for her death. The Clayton in the first Tarzan novel is actually the title character’s cousin, William (Tarzan’s real name being John Clayton, Lord Greystoke), and has inherited Tarzan’s rightful title in his absence. The plot device regarding Clayton’s evil intentions for the gorillas was invented for the film; his main function in the first two books in Burroughs’ series is as a romantic rival for Tarzan. Additionally, the author depicts Jane Porter as initially betrothed to William (before eventually becoming Tarzan’s wife in a subsequent novel), and she is not British but American.

Still, despite these alterations to the original text, the film retains an element of darkness in the manner by which the villain, Clayton, is dispatched–he dies, somewhat gruesomely, by hanging, as his neck is caught in a vine and subsequently snaps. Though this moment is obviously not shown altogether graphically in the movie, one must imagine that it could be disturbing for some young’uns among the film’s viewership.

Tarzan is a gorgeous piece of animation, due in large part to the development of the Deep Canvas technology. This allows for the backgrounds of the film to be created in 3D–in other words, rather than serving as static backdrops for the action of the movie, the two-dimensional characters are able to move realistically through the backgrounds, which themselves do not appear to be computer-generated, but are instead meticulously designed to appear hand-painted. Take, for instance, the segment embedded below, in which a young Tarzan resolves to do whatever possible in order to become a better “gorilla”:

Starting at 1:27 in the video, Tarzan begins swinging across the screen on a series of vines. Several seconds later, the camera shifts, and instead of merely going across the vines, Tarzan now appears to be swinging through them, directly toward the screen. In this way, the character is able to move through the entire environment of the movie, rather than being stuck against a painted backdrop as in previous films. The movements of the camera are unusual in Tarzan because they add to the three-dimensional feel of the movie–the filmmakers are able to use realistic tilting, twisting motions that were virtually unheard of in animation prior to the technological advancements showcased in this film. Watch the clip through the ending, as a now-adult Tarzan begins to “surf” through the trees, moving lithely from branch to branch, vine to vine, as the camera follows closely behind. Before Deep Canvas, the animators would have had to track the motion from side-to-side, missing the moments in which Tarzan slides neatly through a hole in a tree or cavorts among the heavily-shaded branches. But here, we are not merely witnessing the movements from a distance but tracking every single maneuver as it happens. We see everything. And everything we see is utterly breathtaking.

The voice cast is largely impeccable, though once again, Disney could not help themselves and had to throw in a couple of well-known comedians voicing funny animal sidekicks–Tarzan’s best gorilla friend, Terk, over-performed by a hammy (and loud) Rosie O’Donnell, and Tantor (Wayne Knight), an elephant whose personal insecurities are rivaled only by Toy Story‘s neurotic Rex. As for the other animal characters, Henrickson brings the right touch of menace and distrust to his vocalization of Kerchak, and Glenn Close is a soothing maternal presence as Kala (FYI–this was not Close’s first voice role in a Tarzan film–she also dubbed the vocals for Jane over thickly-accented Southern actress Andie McDowell in the 1984 movie Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes). As for the humans, Goldwyn and Driver are both simply marvelous–the former nails Tarzan’s hesitant acceptance of his human heritage and his determination to prove himself to adopted father Kerchak, while the latter is joyously daffy as fish-out-of-water Jane. Hawthorne is delightful as Jane’s intellectual goofball of a father, while Blessed’s performance as Clayton is somewhat reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast’s Gaston–the two could be blood brothers (Blessed also has a small second voice part in the film–he provides the vocals for Tarzan’s famous chest-beating yell). And though he doesn’t have a vocal role, another star played an important part in the development of the film–if Tarzan’s moves as he “skates” and “surfs” through the trees look somewhat familiar to you, it may be because those character movements were inspired by skateboarding legend Tony Hawk.

You can’t mention Tarzan without talking about its amazing soundtrack, scored by Mark Mancina with songs written by pop/rock superstar Phil Collins. The musician penned four popular singles for the film: “Two Worlds,” “Strangers Like Me,” “Son of Man,” and the obligatory love ballad, “You’ll Be in My Heart.” The latter song actually differs from many previous Disney love songs in that it is essentially a lullaby, sung by Kala to her newly-adopted son as a heartfelt reminder to the boy that he’ll always have a place with his “mother.” The tune has taken on new life in the years since its release, however, and has become a popular wedding theme. “You’ll Be in My Heart” won Phil Collins the Academy Award for Best Original Song–an achievement that was mercilessly parodied on the television series South Park (that show’s creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, had also been nominated in the same category for their song “Blame Canada” from South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. Their animated revenge included Collins’ Oscar getting stuck in … well, a place that isn’t all that sunny). Collins and Mancina, incidentally, went on to collaborate on another Disney score, for 2003′s Brother Bear.

Tarzan allowed Disney to end the century with a bang. Though it was ultimately the most expensive animated film ever produced by the studio–its budget ballooned to over $150 million (a total that was demolished with last year’s release of the $260 million Tangled)–Tarzan was a critical and commercial success. Its box-office take greatly surpassed that of the two films released before it, Hercules and Mulan. By most critics’ estimation, Tarzan marked the end of the Disney Renaissance period. Throughout much of the subsequent decade, the studio’s traditionally-animated films were, by and large, financial disappointments (with the exception of 2002′s Lilo & Stitch). Movies like The Emperor’s New Groove (2000), Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Treasure Planet (2002), and Home on the Range (2004) barely broke even, if at all. It wasn’t until the 2009 release of The Princess and the Frog and 2010′s Tangled that Disney’s traditional animated films began making a mark once more at the box office. Tangled especially was a gigantic hit for the studio–in fact, it is second only to The Lion King as the highest-grossing film ever released by the Disney animation folks. The to-date modestly profitable release of this year’s Winnie the Pooh film notwithstanding, it remains to be seen if the company’s recent successes will usher in yet another “Renaissance” period of technical innovation, inspired storytelling, and sheer entertainment.

***

Well, folks, after almost an entire year (comprising 36 posts plus an introduction), we have finally reached the end of our examination of the classic Disney canon and the Disney Renaissance (albeit about two months behind our original schedule, which is entirely my fault–so Carrie and Nikki, aim all boos, hisses, water balloons, and coconut custard pies with whipped cream in my general direction). But never fear–our Saturday Morning Cartoons series will continue! Obviously, there is so much more to the world of animation than Disney, and from here on out, we will largely be focusing on work from other studios and production companies–shorts, snippets, feature-length presentations, etc.

And, of course, we’ll undoubtedly be revisiting The House of Mouse again in the future, because our collective love for all things Disney will likely never die.

“You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty.”

Posted on by under brandie's faves, disney renaissance, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

Well, folks, we’re back with another, long-delayed installment of Saturday Morning Cartoons! What can I say–it’s been a busy summer. We still have two films left to cover in our examination of the “classic” Disney canon–the final two movies released during the period popularly known as the “Disney Renaissance.” This week, we’ll be tackling 1998′s Mulan, and next Saturday, we’ll wrap up our Disney series with a post on 1999′s Tarzan. After that, we’ll be moving on to look at other, non-Disney animated films from the classic Hollywood period … shorts, features, and everything in between.

For more than sixty years, since before the 1937 release of Walt Disney’s first full-length animated feature, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the center of the studio’s animation department had been in California. Quartered in Burbank and originally dubbed the “Disney Brothers Cartoon Studio,” Walt Disney Animation Studios (as it is now called) was responsible for the bulk of the production on all major Disney animated releases. In the meantime, the Florida branch of the department, working out of the latest addition to the Disney World theme park, the Disney-MGM Studios (opened in 1989; redubbed Disney’s Hollywood Studios in 2008), had little to do. The animators had contributed nominal portions to some of the Disney Renaissance films and had been responsible for the 1990 animated Roger Rabbit short “Roller Coaster Rabbit,” but their main job seemed to be to serve as live “props” on the Disney-MGM studio tour.

That changed in 1993, when production began on Mulan. When the film was released in 1998, it became the first full-length animated feature produced almost entirely in Florida. Before the Florida studios were shuttered (as a cost-saving measure) in 2003, they would produce two more features: 2002′s Lilo & Stitch, and Brother Bear the following year. But Mulan was undoubtedly the highlight of the Florida studio’s admittedly limited output.

The protagonist of the film is a young Chinese woman named Fa Mulan (voiced by Ming-Na). Her mother and grandmother try to prepare her for womanhood by taking her to a matchmaker so an unwilling Mulan can find a husband. The meeting is a disaster, however, and the matchmaker denounces Mulan, telling her that she will be a “disgrace” to her family. Soon after, the emperor (Pat Morita) must pull together an army to fight the invading forces of the Huns, led by the dreaded warrior Shan Yu (Miguel Ferrer), and orders that one male from every family in China must enlist. Mulan’s father, Fa Zhou, a crippled veteran of past wars, proudly steps forth to represent his family, much to his daughter’s horror. In the middle of the night, she cuts off her hair, steals her father’s sword and armor, and runs away to join the army in his place, disguised as his “son,” Ping. Knowing that Mulan will be killed if her ruse is discovered, Fa Zhou prays to the family’s ancestors to protect her, and by mistake, a tiny, temperamental dragon named Mushu (Eddie Murphy) is sent to serve as Mulan’s guide. Though life in the army is a difficult adjustment for Mulan, she eventually earns the respect of her fellow soldiers and their captain, Li Shang (B.D. Wong). The troops are tasked with preventing Shan Yu’s march into the Imperial City, and a quick-thinking Mulan saves the day and becomes a hero–until her ruse is discovered. When she discovers that Shan-Yu is still on the path to the City, Mulan must convince her former “brothers in arms” to help her stop the villain from killing the emperor and conquering China.

The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.

Mulan is based on a Chinese legend related in the poem “The Ballad of Mulan,” which dates back as early as the sixth century AD. The Disney adaptation took some liberties with the tale, changing some of the facts to suit their version of the tale. For example, originally, Mulan had a younger brother who would have had to take their father’s place if Mulan had not stepped in. The characters of Mushu and Cri-Kee, Mulan’s animal helpmates, were added to appeal to younger viewers (as we all know, it’s next to impossible for Disney to produce a film without an adorable animal sidekick or three). Disney also changed one crucial point: in the folk tale, Mulan is never discovered to actually be a woman, while the film’s climax centers around this revelation and its aftermath. The final act of the film, in which Mulan faces Shan-Yu one-on-one in an attempt to save the emperor, was staged specifically for the movie. The romance with Shang was also added to give the film a romantic subplot (because, again, it’s not Disney unless there’s some lovin’ going on somewhere).

My little baby, off to destroy people.

In order to capture the authenticity of the film’s setting, the animators spent several weeks in China, taking numerous photographs and sketching potential backdrops and character ideas. The stylization of the animation pays homage to Chinese artistic tradition, giving the film the look of a moving watercolor painting. The movie also incorporates elements of computer animation: hordes of Huns were computer-generated into the snowy battle scene, and the final scenes in the Imperial City were created by ingeniously superimposing live crowd footage onto the animated set-up.

You missed! How could you miss? He was three feet from you!

Mulan is one of my favorite films from the Disney Renaissance period. In large part, this has to do with the characterization of the title figure, who is one of the more proactive Disney heroines. She demonstrates bravery, loyalty, and determination, and a willingness to sacrifice herself to protect not only her family and friends, but her entire country. Her struggles to “fit in” and meet the standards set for her by her family and by society as a whole are greatly relatable–after all, who hasn’t ever felt out of place? Plus, Mulan is a bit of a smart-ass, which makes her appeal to me even more (it is weird to me, though, that Disney now considers Mulan one of their signature “Disney Princesses,” even though she isn’t royalty and, in truth, isn’t all that “princess-y”).

Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

However, I wouldn’t go so far as some critics in calling her a “feminist” role model for young girls. True, through her actions, Mulan shows that girls can do anything boys can do (and, as Annie Get Your Gun told us so many years ago, they can do it better, too), but in order for Mulan to even get the chance to break out of her prescribed gender role, she has to … well, change genders. It’s only through disguising herself as a man that Mulan is able to prove her worthiness, for, as we see in the opening scenes of the film, Mulan is considered a failure as a woman. The song “Honor to Us All” sets up the premise that “a girl can bring her family/great honor in one way/by striking a good match,” but the subsequent episode with the matchmaker shows how ill-suited Mulan is to the overtly feminine “virtues” necessary to land a husband. As she reflects on the disastrous meeting later, through the song appropriately titled “Reflection,” Mulan muses that she “will never pass for a perfect bride/or a perfect daughter,” and wonders, “When will my reflection show/who I am inside?” When she joins the army, Shang promises to “make a man out of you,” and those adopted masculine traits are what eventually define her character and her actions throughout the remainder of the film. Still, it is amusing to note that the tables are turned somewhat in the end, as three of Mulan’s soldier buddies, Yao, Ling, and Chien Po, must dress in drag as concubines in order to infiltrate Shan-Yu’s defenses and save the emperor.

Does this dress make me look fat?

Mulan not only out-grossed its predecessor, 1997′s Hercules, but also met with more positive critical reception. However, like Hercules and The Hunchback of Notre Dame before it, the soundtrack to Mulan did not reach the levels of musical success as earlier Renaissance films The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King, and Pocahontas. The soundtrack features one mainstream radio release, Christina Aguilera’s pop version of “Reflection,” which is credited with launching the erstwhile pop princess’ career, but it was not a major hit. The film’s version of the song is performed by Lea Salonga, who also provides the singing chops for Princess Jasmine in Aladdin. And Donny Osmond provides the singing voice of Shang–he is instantly recognizable belting out “I’ll Make a Man Out of You.”

You ... you fight good.

Overall, Mulan is an infinitely-watchable film with a great story and engrossing, fun characters. The voice cast is impeccable–even Eddie Murphy, whose shtick normally makes me want to poke things in my ears, is endearing as the lovably annoying Mushu (though, in retrospect, I can’t help but hear Shrek’s Donkey when listening to the character). Mulan’s not a perfect heroine (is there even such a thing?), but she’s inspiring and entertaining, and in the end, what more could you ask for from your lead character?

Critiquing TIME’s “best” animation list.

Posted on by under they made movies after 1970?, classic cartoons, classic disney, animation, saturday morning cartoons, disney renaissance, best of ... lists, critiquing the critics, pixar, oui oui ... it's foreign film

This week, TIME announced its list of what it considers to be the “All-TIME 25 Best Animated Films,” as determined by film critic Richard Corliss. Let’s just say there are some puzzling inclusions, and some even more startling omissions.

The list:

25. Lady and the Tramp (1955)
24. Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)
23. Yellow Submarine (1968)
22. Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who! (2008)
21. Kung Fu Panda (2008)
20. Paprika (2007)
19. Tangled (2010)
18. The Lion King (1994)
17. Akira (1988)
16. Happy Feet (2006)
15. Wallace & Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005)
14. The Adventures of Prince Achmed (1926)
13. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
12. Toy Story (1995)
11. Toy Story 3 (2010)
10. The Little Mermaid (1989)
9. Finding Nemo (2003)
8. The Triplets of Belleville (2003)
7. Up (2009)
6. South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (1999)
5. Spirited Away (2001)
4. Dumbo (1941)
3. The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Movie (1979)
2. WALL-E (2008)
1. Pinocchio (1940)

An interesting group of films, right? At the very least, some of Corliss’ choices seem to practically be begging for debate. And since I’m never one to decline such an invitation, here’s my take on what we see here.

First, the positives:

I wholeheartedly agree with the positioning of Disney’s Pinocchio at the top of the list. As I’ve stated before, I think Pinocchio, more so than its predecessor Snow White, marks the ultimate statement of Disney artistic vision, and is a pinnacle of animated achievement.

The animation of other countries is represented quite healthily—at least, the French, British, Japanese, and German. And speaking of the latter, it was a pleasant surprise to see Prince Achmed, written and directed by pioneering female filmmaker Lotte Reiniger, make this list, as it is relatively unknown even among those viewers who are self-professed animation fanatics.

I’m thrilled to see the South Park movie make an appearance, and placed so near the top, too. There have been few films (and even fewer animated ones) that so deftly juggle satire, social commentary, blue humor, and rampant cursing. Trey Parker and Matt Stone are f*cking national treasures, people.

And now, a lengthy rant.

My first reaction when reading through the entire list was surprise at the utter exclusion of any of Brad Bird’s films.

The Iron Giant (1999) is an exquisite parable about how the choices we make influence who we become. The Incredibles (2004) is one of the best superhero films ever, with a beautifully-crafted story to match the engrossing action. And Ratatouille (2007) is a simply lovely tale of a gourmet rat that celebrates life, art, and the joy of cooking. So why are none of these extremely deserving films on this list? Does Corliss have some kind of issue with Bird as a filmmaker? The exclusion just seems a little personal, all things considered.

Some of the placements on this list are a bit strange to me. I don’t think WALL-E should be nearly as high on the list. Don’t get me wrong—it’s one of my favorite Pixar productions. But it is not as consistent as the Toy Story films, which I feel should rank higher (and perhaps room should be made for Toy Story 2, a movie that remains one of the best film sequels of all time, animated or not). And in regards to placement, I’d put Wallace and Gromit much, much higher on my own list.

Also, I don’t really care how Corliss justifies it, but The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Movie is NOT a movie. It is a loosely-connected series of vignettes combined to form a feature-length presentation. And while I genuinely love the Warner Bros. shorts, they belong in a separate category of consideration.

Other films that I don’t feel belong on the list:

Lady and the Tramp (while I enjoy this movie, and it was probably my favorite film as a child, there are other films that are more deserving of a spot on this list … don’t kill me, Nikki);

Yellow Submarine (though I recognize its importance in the broader realm of British cinema, it seems like little more than a really long advertisement for the music of The Beatles);

Horton Hears a Who (Jim Carrey’s severe overacting impedes what could have been a solid, but still not “best,” movie experience);

Tangled (the animation is breathtakingly beautiful, but the movie is a standard storybook Disney affair that adds little “newness” to the formula); and …

Happy Feet (cute, but ultimately unsubstantial addition to the computer-animated influx of the 2000s).

So what would I add in these films’ stead? In addition to the aforementioned Incredibles and Iron Giant, I would also add:

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), beautifully animated and completely engrossing neo-fairy tale of pure, unadulterated wonder;

Bambi (1942), even though it makes me weep like a child every time I watch it;

Alice in Wonderland (1951), which I’ve defended on this blog before as a trippy masterpiece; and …

Persepolis (2007), brilliantly depicting a young girl’s upbringing in the midst of the Iranian Revolution—the animation style, which mimics the graphic novels upon which the film was based (tip: read them; they are magnificent).

Now that I’ve had my rant, it’s your turn. What films would you excise from the list, and what films do you feel should have been included?

“I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this.”

Posted on by under carrie's faves, disney renaissance, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

This was probably a good selection for Father’s Day weekend, because our hero has two, plus another male mentor. But we’ll let you draw your own conclusions there.

Hercules (1997) is kind of loved and hated. However, I find if you aren’t aiming for too much accuracy and just see the humor, it’s pretty fun. It may not be Disney’s greatest masterpiece but it’s one my sister and I tend to watch repeatedly, and we have a good time doing so.  Personally, I find the portrayal of Hercules (ably voiced as an adult by the criminally underrated Tate Donovan) as a completely awkward teenager endearing—and it makes sense if you put some thought into the idea. I also thought it worked for him to be as sheltered as he was.

Hercules, his adopted father, Amphitryon, and Penelope the donkey.

Disney also cast some interesting voices that made the movie fun: Danny DeVito plays Philoctetes, the satyr training Hercules. Somehow, it was just pitch-perfect. Rip Torn (Zed in Men in Black, and oh so many other roles) playing Zeus is just funny, especially with what a marshmallow Zeus actually turns out to be. So he’s not the Zeus mythology might have us believe…

Hello Easter Egg---yes, this is sick but hilarious.

One of the most random casting decisions for me was James Woods playing Hades—and Hades being a fast-talking negotiator. I loved it. It’s fun to have a comedic villain sometimes, and it really did shed light on the point that Hades got the underworld as a gift—not a fall from grace. He was a god, not a demon, and the Greek gods tended to have all of their own motives, pursuits, and agendas. I have to give them points for this one.

For fun, they managed to get Bobcat Goldthwait (Scrooged) to play Pain. Primarily known for the way he can throw his voice octaves, he plays great crazy or highly distressed characters. For Pain it was just perfect.

It's a small underworld, after all, huh?

Woods and company are not the only notable voices in the film—they are joined by such diverse actors as Hal Holbrook, Wayne Knight, and perennial Disney favorites Carole Shelley and Jim Cummings, among others. Add in Charlton Heston as the film’s narrator, and you have one of the more star-studded casts for a Disney Renaissance film.

As much as I enjoyed Hades, Megara (voiced by Susan Egan) is my favorite Hercules character. She’s among the ranks of Disney women like Esmeralda and Mulan, who are very active in their story, fighters who are perhaps just a little snippy.

You know how men are--they think "no" means "yes," and "Get lost," means "Take me--I'm yours."

Megara is unique, however, because she’s technically in league with the villain and is his chief minion. This is a highly unusual plot twist, but it makes things interesting. Though she does have a kind nature that makes her want to help people (which is how she got into this jam in the first place, and also leads to her saving Hercules), she has serious attitude and independence. Her way of speaking and body language are completely different from most female heroines, which makes her an odd character to meet for the first time, but again, it comes as a nice change. Her penchant for one-liners doesn’t hurt, either.

... around the dumbbells, you lift up the back wall, and we're gone.

Much like its predecessor, the previous year’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the soundtrack to Hercules did not produce any runaway chart hits, though a pop version of its prevalent theme, “Go the Distance” (sung in the film by Broadway standout Roger Bart), was recorded by Michael Bolton and eventually reached #1 on the adult contemporary charts. The song was also nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song, though it had the misfortune of being nominated alongside Celine Dion’s Titanic juggernaut “My Heart Will Go On” (you can probably guess which song ultimately won the Oscar).

Hercules was far from the most successful film of the Disney Renaissance period (both critically and commercially), but it nonetheless remains an enjoyable romp through the (admittedly) somewhat bastardized world of ancient Greece. Put aside what you remember about the Greek hero from high school, and just enjoy the film for what it is.

“You ring the bell…you’re the bell-ringer.”

Posted on by under disney renaissance, lit adaptations, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) is based on Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel of the same name. Quasimodo (voiced by Tom Hulce) is a deformed man of Gypsy descent who lives in the cathedral’s bell tower and serves as the bell-ringer. He has been reluctantly raised (and hidden from public view) by the evil Judge Frollo (Tony Jay) in repentance for killing Quasimodo’s mother when he was an infant. In the midst of the annual Festival of Fools celebration, Quasimodo falls in love with a headstrong young Gypsy woman named Esmeralda (Demi Moore). But he soon finds he must compete for her affections with the captain of the guard, Phoebus (Kevin Kline) while also contending with Frollo’s insane lust for the girl. Quasimodo, with the help of his hilarious gargoyle friends, must help save Esmeralda and the gypsies from Frollo’s reign of terror.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a veritable feast for the eyes and ears. The Disney animation team reportedly spent months in Paris at the actual cathedral, sketching and photographing minute details so as to best capture them on film. In the end, this respect for authenticity definitely shows. The animation, particularly of the architecture of Notre Dame itself, is simply stunning, with a deft use of shadow and light to depict the stunning stained-glass work and the cavernous interior of the cathedral. And though this film’s soundtrack did not produce any chart-topping pop hits or Oscars (unlike its Renaissance predecessors), the music (composed by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz) is nonetheless haunting and beautiful, incorporating the sounds of bells and Gregorian chanting within several of the tunes.

A trio of Quasimodos: Chaney, Laughton, and Disney

The characters are, for the most part, just as well-sculpted as the setting. Quasimodo, as the central character of the film, is appropriately deformed in his character design, but not to the extremes of Hugo’s original descriptions (for example, unlike Hugo’s creation, Disney’s Quasi is not deaf). The depiction of Quasimodo in this film is in sharp contrast to the portrayals of the characters by Lon Chaney (1923 silent version) and Charles Laughton (1939) in past film adaptations (though his appearance does seem to be modeled after, or least inspired by, the latter in some respects). There is a lovable quality to the rounded edges and welcoming smile with which Disney’s animators gifted their Quasimodo. He’s not frightening so much as “different,” not grotesque but misshapen, and the innate kindness of the character shines through the rough-hewn exterior. And the filmmakers could not have chosen a better voice for the part: Hulce, perhaps best known for his Oscar-nominated role as the title character in 1984′s Amadeus. The actor’s voice work as Quasi is, by turns, joyful and heartbreaking, hopeful and despairing … a perfect fit.

Doesn't every girl have a pet goat?

Esmeralda is one of Disney’s stronger women. She takes care of herself and stands up to Frollo’s injustice, even defying his soldiers. Other than the gargoyles, she is the first to see Quasi for who he actually is. The film continues Disney’s 90s love affair with casting high-profile actors as leading characters: Moore, an undeniable superstar by 1996, is instantly recognizable in the role, but she carries it off rather well, imbibing Esmeralda with just the right amount of independent spirit.

"Achilles ... heel."

Captain Phoebus, on the other hand, is a bit self-absorbed and clueless, but he has a sense of right and wrong that helps him awaken to the real problems in Paris; in this way, he has some very significant similarities to John Smith in Pocahontas. I always forget that the character is voiced by Kline, though it oddly suits him. It amuses me that Kline, whose Phoebus has many comic interactions with his horse, Achilles, plays such a similar character (Tulio) dealing with horsey hi-jinks in 2000′s animated feature The Road to El Dorado.

Just part of the architecture.

As for the gargoyles, you have to love them. Laverne, a truly great character, is voiced by the wonderful Mary Wickes, who is no stranger to the True Classics crew, having played a part in some of our favorite films (White Christmas, The Man Who Came to Dinner, 101 Dalmatians…). This was actually Wickes’ last film role before she passed away in 1995. As Laverne, she plays a dry-humored character who is definitely the brains of the operation (so, a perfect role, essentially). Interestingly, there actually is a Notre Dame gargoyle that looks like Laverne; we may assume the others depicted in the film are up there, too, but I cannot know for sure. If I had the picture accessible on a computer, I would post it, but I do not. Perhaps someday I will get it scanned and filed.  The other two gargoyles, aptly named “Victor” (Charles Kimbrough) and “Hugo” (Jason Alexander), play foil to one another and provide much-needed comedy relief from the rather dark story line.

Disney chose Tony Jay to play Frollo, which was a rather wise move. His voice suits his character, and his experience in voicing characters is extensive, having played a villain in radio drama and portrayed numerous animated characters (including the crooked asylum director in Beauty and the Beast). He already knew how to play evil, morally and ethically questionable, and—let’s just say it—a bit creepy.

Seriously ... he's creepy.

The major theme in the film is how “morality” is used for immoral purposes (personified by Frollo). It questions the nature of good and evil, which was one of Hugo’s favorite questions. Frollo has risen to power and managed to break the justice system into shambles. He shows this himself when explaining to Phoebus about his moral war against the gypsies. He uses a metaphor with bugs under a tile in the walls in the Palace of Justice to show how the gypsies are an infestation, but his removal of the tile (and putting it back incorrectly) shows how he has broken justice. It also reveals that there really are bugs infesting the justice system—just not the bugs he names. Later, he begins to destroy Notre Dame, this time with a battering ram. In a scene oddly reminiscent of, and yet opposing Beauty and the Beast (apparently all “monsters” require battering rams), the citizens finally take back their city from Frollo’s corrupt leadership.

"Sanctuary!"

Making Hugo’s novel into a Disney-fied film appropriate for family audiences necessitated some serious changes to the original book. The intensity of Frollo’s lust for Esmeralda is severely dampened, though it’s still pretty evident he has an unhealthily amorous yen for this woman (“she will be mine or she will burn,” huh? Yeah). And Hugo’s ending—in which Esmeralda, Frollo, and Quasimodo all wind up dead—was pretty much scrapped. Frollo still meets his comeuppance, falling from the heights of Notre Dame to his death below, but the Gypsy girl and the bell-ringer survive, and Esmeralda and Phoebus renew their love connection with Quasi’s blessing. The film ends on a bright, hopeful note, as Quasimodo ventures out, undisguised, and is greeted warmly and welcomed by the people of Paris for the first time. With their acceptance, Quasi realizes his longed-for happy ending. Unrealistic? Perhaps. But it’s only a fitting ending for any product of the venerable House of Mouse.

Overall, choosing to adapt The Hunchback of Notre Dame was a bold move on the parts of directors Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale. Despite making quite a few changes and lightening Hugo’s story by several dozen shades, it is still a pretty dark story for Disney. The adaptation manages to retain some of the complicated social themes from Hugo’s novel while still incorporating more child-friendly elements, and one must admit that such a balancing act is pretty impressive.

Painting with All the Colors of the Wind

Posted on by under disney renaissance, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

This week’s film, 1995′s Pocahontas, is probably one of the most controversial additions to the Disney animated canon. The first to be based on actual people, the film has received a lot of scorn over the years for its wild historical inaccuracies, particularly in its depiction of the supposed romance between English colonist John Smith and the young Native American girl, Pocahontas. The real Pocahontas was probably only about 12 or 13 when she saved John Smith (apparently there is speculation among some historians as to whether that even happened) and while friendly with the Englishmen, she was not likely to have had any sort of romantic relationship with one at the time. And while filmmakers did consult with some scholars while preparing the film, the movie received harsh criticism from the Native American community for the film’s portrayal of Native Americans and how the settlers treated them. Not exactly an auspicious beginning.

The film depicts the concurrent stories of two very different groups of people: while a ship filled with English settlers makes its way to the American colonies in 1607, a young, free-spirited Native American woman, Pocahontas, rejects the attempts of her father, Chief Powhatan, to wed her to one of the “serious” young warriors of the tribe, Kocoum. When the English arrive, their leader, Governor Ratcliffe, forces his men to begin a futile search for gold and riches while plotting a way to get rid of the native population, whom he believes are hiding a hoard of gold. Captain John Smith, one of the more adventurous settlers, encounters Pocahontas one day in the woods, and eventually the two learn to communicate and fall in love. But tensions between the settlers and Pocahontas’ tribe threaten to derail their budding romance as a series of misunderstandings lead to tragedy and strife.

In an attempt to be somewhat authentic, Disney hired mostly Native American actors to do the voices for Pocahontas and her people while also hiring some well-known (or at least soon to be REALLY well-known) actors for the English settlers. Probably the most famous voice in the cast is Mel Gibson, providing the voice of John Smith. At the time of the movie’s release in 1995, Gibson had already turned in some of the highlights of his career— including the Lethal Weapon and Mad Max series, Maverick (1994), and his notorious turn as Hamlet in the eponymous 1990 film—but what would eventually become his “signature” film was released one month prior to Pocahontas: the self-directed Braveheart (for which Gibson personally won two Academy Awards, for Best Picture and Best Director). Also, in the cast is a fairly young Christian Bale, fresh off the roles of Laurie in Little Women (1994) and Jack Kelly in Newsies (1992), as Thomas. And Disney favorite David Ogden Stiers returns here to play Governor Ratcliffe and his valet Wiggins (who sounds an awful lot like Beauty and the Beast’s Cogsworth, come to think of it).

Oscar winner Linda Hunt, who is currently starring in the television series NCIS: Los Angeles, provides the voice of Grandmother Willow, a spiritual confidant for Pocahontas. Interestingly, the filmmakers first envisioned Pocahontas’ spiritual guide to be a male character named Old Man River. Originally, the part was offered to Gregory Peck, who turned it down saying that Pocahontas needed someone maternal to turn to for advice. Eventually, the writers agreed, and Grandmother Willow was born.

The title character is voiced by Irene Bedard (with the singing voice provided by Broadway performer Judy Kuhn). Bedard has played multiple Native American roles throughout her career, and even returned to the “world” of Pocahontas (as the character’s mother this time) in Terrence Malick’s 2005 version of the story, The New World (incidentally, Bale also appears in this version of the story as the real Pocahontas’ future husband, John Rolfe). American Indian activist Russell Means voices Chief Powhatan, Pocahontas’ father. Means had only begun acting a few years prior to the production of Pocahontas—his most prominent role was as Chingachgook in the 1992 adaptation of James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans.

Pocahontas was actually put into production about the same time as The Lion King (1994) and many of the animators considered it to be the more prestigious of the two films. Pocahontas was even thought to potentially be good enough to score another Best Picture nod for Disney. But audiences were not as receptive to it as they had been to The Lion King and Aladdin (1992), and though the film was an unmitigated success at the box office, it never ascended the heights of some of its early-90s predecessors.

While the movie itself was not a runaway hit, the soundtrack was a smash success. Like other films in the Disney Renaissance era, the “big ballad” of the film was performed twice: in the film version, “Colors of the Wind” is performed by Kuhn in character as Pocahontas, while a radio-friendly pop version by Vanessa Williams plays over the credits. As with previous successes “Can You Feel the Love Tonight,” “A Whole New World,” and “Beauty and the Beast,” this pop version eventually became a top-five hit on the charts. The music for the film was once again composed by Alan Menken, this time partnering with Stephen Schwartz (best known for the Broadway musicals Godspell, Pippin, and Wicked). Schwartz has since gone on to work on several other film projects including the 1998 Dreamworks animated musical The Prince of Egypt and 2007′s delightful live-action/animated combo Enchanted (which paired him again with Menken). Both men would earn Oscars for the score and for best original song for “Colors of the Wind.”

See what happens when we work together?

 

Overall, while this is not one of my favorite films from the Disney repertoire, it does have a nice message about tolerance, solid vocal performances, and some great music. Plus, there’s no beating the animal sidekicks in this film, whose mischief provides some much-needed comic relief throughout the movie. So check out Pocahontas for yourself if you haven’t seen it lately.

Mufasa! … Ooh, do it again.

Posted on by under carrie's faves, disney renaissance, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

The Lion King (1994) remains one of the most critically-acclaimed and beloved films ever produced by Walt Disney’s animation studios. To this day, it is also the highest-grossing non-computer animated feature in history, and the most successful film to emerge from the Disney Renaissance period of the 1990s. And does it deserve its numerous accolades and legions of fans? Why, yes, it does.

The movie depicts the life of Simba, a lion cub born to the king of the African Pride Lands, Mufasa. The king’s brother, Scar, resents the birth of the new, young interloper, as Simba’s existence now removes Scar even further from the throne he covets. As young Simba grows and learns about his place in the “circle of life,” Scar teams up with the lions’ enemy, a pack of wild, unpredictable hyenas, to murder his brother and his nephew and claim the kingdom for himself. But while Scar succeeds in killing Mufasa, Simba manages to escape the Pride Lands and eventually forges an easy, carefree life for himself out in the wild with his new friends, a meerkat (Timon) and a warthog (Pumbaa). When Simba reaches adulthood, a chance encounter with the wise mandrill Rafiki forces Simba to remember his obligations to his family and his pride. But first, he has to contend with his uncle, who is none too willing to give up the throne …

"Everything the light touches is our kingdom."

Upon the film’s release, there were accusations that the movie is a rip-off of a Japanese animated show from the 1960s called Kimba the White Lion, though Disney maintains that any similarities between the two properties are purely due to coincidence and not a concentrated effort to plagiarize the earlier cartoon. To this day, Disney maintains that The Lion King is the first wholly original story ever to be animated by the Disney studio.

This is not to say that the movie wasn’t inspired by other sources, however. The Lion King continues along the similar vein of Shakespearean references that populated the script of its predecessor, Aladdin. Where Aladdin started with Iago, The Lion King runs rampant. Most people consider it to be inspired by Hamlet (however loosely), but there are shades of Macbeth and several other pieces, too. It’s not surprising. Scar’s coup evokes memories of the Bolshevik revolution, the infamous Nazis (with the Hyena march), and almost any other coup in history. It’s the classic fear of old ruling families: being killed so as to be replaced. As the story really emphasizes a monarchy, it makes sense for the Disney crew to use these types of ideas to create their story.

"All the more reason for me to be protective ..."

Scar is a perfect villain (and even has the full Shakespearean look), and he was gifted with the perfect performer to provide his silky vocals. Jeremy Irons, with amazing tone and inflection, accomplishes uncommonly good expression with only his voice. This, combined with his excellent lines and brilliant manipulations, makes him one of my favorite evil film characters.

Removed from his family and desired destiny, Scar simply creates one to suit his mind and his ambition (with the help of the hyenas) and then seeks to make that everyone’s reality. It’s what creates great, insane villainy and gives him observable motivation. However, one must wonder what his name was before he received his unexplained injury and scar.

And the appropriate mood lightning ...

Disney also brought in some stalwarts of Broadway for the film (which, fittingly enough, was itself adapted to Broadway in 1997 and is still going strong). Matthew Broderick (adult Simba) and Nathan Lane (Timon) both have done extensive work on Broadway (The Producers, The Odd Couple) as well as in films. They were great friends before the movie, which makes it perfect that their characters were friends, too. Rumor has it that Timon was created for Nathan Lane at Matthew Broderick’s insistence that he be in the film.

"It means 'no worries' for the rest of your days ..."

The casting for The Lion King is the very definition of “star-studded.” In addition to Irons, the velvety, deep voice of James Earl Jones is unmistakable as Simba’s regal father, Mufasa. He adds the perfect amount of gravitas to the role, with just a hint of amused, fatherly indulgence, particularly in his early scenes with young Simba. Others in the cast include: Rowan Atkinson (most people recognize him as Mr. Bean) as Zazu, Whoopi Goldberg as the hyena Shenzi, Moira Kelly as adult Nala (The Cutting Edge), character actor Ernie Sabella as Pumbaa, and the amazing Robert Guillaume as Rafiki. Disney also brings back Cheech Marin (having played Tito in Oliver & Company) to play another hyena, Banzai.  And rounding out the cast is Jonathan Taylor Thomas of Home Improvement fame (who was practically the Justin Bieber of the mid-nineties), who voiced Simba as a young cub.

"No wonder we're dangling at the bottom of the food chain."

In proper Disney style, the animation tends to mimic the art of its subject’s culture—not in a heavy-handed way, but in a few select scenes (such as “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King”) and through Rafiki’s paintings. I’ve always admired that feature of the Disney films, as it gives each movie a special mood makes it unique.  Additionally, the animators’ use of real-life animal subjects as inspiration—a practice first used in the creation of 1942′s Bambi—makes the movements and appearance of the characters appear very realistic. That realism is heightened amidst an authentic-looking African backdrop, which was reportedly inspired by a trip made by the animation team to Kenya. And though computer animation was used in some scenes, particularly the sequence with the wildebeest stampede, its integration into the film is seamless. Because of all of this painstaking attention to detail on the parts of the crew, The Lion King arguably boasts some of the most gorgeous animation to ever come out of the Disney studios.

"The King has returned."

The music by Tim Rice and Elton John is wonderful and a bit different from much of the previous Disney pieces by Alan Menken. Both “The Circle of Life” and “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” became pop hits for Elton John, and both were nominated (along with “Hakuna Matata”) for the Academy Award for Best Song (“Can You Feel” actually won). And the soundtrack as a whole won the Oscar for Best Score. What is especially different (and delightful) about the music in this film is the inclusion of non-original music such as “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts,” “It’s a Small World After All” (which naturally enrages Scar, as it does us all), and “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”—which, though apropos, is not a piece composed specifically for the film.

The world that the animators and the Disney crew created with this film is so effective that I even like the sequel, 1998′s direct-to-video The Lion King II: Simba’s Pride, which revolves around Simba’s headstrong daughter, Kiara. And again, the Shakespearean influences are obvious, as this movie depicts the Romeo-and-Juliet-esque love between Kiara and a male lion named Kovu. The film features many of the same voice actors (minus Irons, who does not return as Scar), and although some aspects are hard to line up in the story, it’s overall a good sequel. It’s a lot of fun, and the two films together make an overall great Disney piece.

You Ain’t Never Had a Friend Like Me

Posted on by under carrie's faves, disney renaissance, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

Aladdin (1992) was an important piece of the Disney Renaissance; for this period, Disney was stepping up the pace and made some really wonderful animated films. They were very well-marketed and truly well-made. I loved this one when it came out, and I’m still a big fan. Watching it again with my sister to do this post, we had a lot of technical cultural questions, but for the most part, artistic license, Disney-fying, and the magic of the Arabian Nights tales account for them pretty well.

As I child, I actually read the 1,001 Arabian Nights, and I have always loved the legendary frame.

Scheherazade (cited in “You Ain’t Never Had a Friend Like Me”) told the tales to the king to prolong her own life by keeping him too entertained to execute her; she refuses to finish any story before ending the night, thus keeping him in suspense until the following night. I have always delighted in her cleverness.  The stories are in the collection, and “Aladdin and the Magic Lamp” is one of them.

In proper Disney form, they cast notable actors of the time to voice their characters. Aladdin is played by Scott Weinger, who many would recognized as DJ’s boyfriend Steve on Full House.

Robin Williams (click for filmography) played the famous Genie and the merchant “telling” the story in the film. Oddly enough, they did not cast him to play the Genie in the sequel Return of Jafar, but thought better of it and recast him for the third Aladdin and the King of Thieves. Many people attribute the success of these films to his participation. Truly, Genie is just better with Robin Williams.  Iago the parrot was played by Gilbert Gottfried (Problem Child).

However, some of the other voice actors became more dedicated to Aladdin. Linda Larkin is most known as Princess Jasmine, and has portrayed her on video games, TV, etc. to create a list of projects that would keep her rather busy. She has played other roles, but Jasmine is her most notable.

Jonathan Freeman (Jafar) also has voiced Jafar in numerous adaptations and has performed in a few other smaller roles in films. However, he has also branched out into Broadway (which makes sense… look at his enunciation in song) and was even nominated for a Tony.

One of the fun elements of Aladdin are the small jokes. Iago the Parrot is not the first Iago. Iago was a villainous character in Shakespeare’s Othello, who is most associated with envy and conniving, and even bringing about trouble and death to a heroic character. His winged counterpart certainly fits this description.

Romeo and Juliet, anyone?

You also have to appreciate the script’s subtleties… and not so subtleties. Genie (to properly capitalize on Robin Williams’ talent) changes into countless characters and beloved actors. We recognize Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Jack Nicholson, just to name a few.  For more hidden humor, when banishing Aladdin to some snowy exile his line is “his assets are frozen,” and that’s just kind of funny.  Aladdin has a lot of subtle humor, which was particularly popular with this line of Disney films, although the idea was hardly new for them. This tradition continued and later became very important in the Disney-Pixar films.