Tag Archives: sterling holloway

Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood.

Posted on by under animation, classic disney, nikki's faves, saturday morning cartoons, they made movies after 1970?

Winnie the Pooh has been a family favorite as far back as I can remember–from my Winnie the Pooh books and my brother’s toys to calling my sister Eeyore when she was in a particularly pessimistic mood. We also grew up watching the various spinoff shows that aired in the late 80s and 90s (to this day, I still know all the words to the theme for The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh) and the original film as it was shown on the Disney Channel.

1977 Film Poster

So you can imagine my surprise to find out on a recent viewing of the DVD of The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh that the version I grew up with was not the ACTUAL feature version released in 1977. The version I remember contained three featurettes: “Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree,” “Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day,” and “Winnie the Pooh and a Day for Eeyore.” But while the original does include the first two plus “Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too,” “A Day for Eeyore” was not released until 1983 and has a slightly different animation style and voice cast.

Disney acquired the film rights in the early 60s, but at the time, most American children had not read the books. Walt decided to release parts of the story early so that when the feature-length film came out, kids would already be familiar with the characters. All four of the featurettes were released in theaters in conjunction with other Disney animated releases (and actually, I’m not sure why “A Day for Eeyore” was released this way after the fact). Another thing Disney did to help American children relate to the films was to add an “American” character, Gopher, who frequently points out that he’s “not in the book,” which subtly reminds the audience that Gopher was not part of A.A. Milne’s original Hundred Acre Wood. This film would ultimately mark the final project with which Walt Disney had any involvement.

"I'm not in the book!"

While using a book as a way to open a Disney classic had been done since Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, this one was unique in that the book was a part of the story itself. There are several places in the film where the Narrator comments on something, starting on one page and ending on another page, or where you see the characters coming out of the book, like when Pooh is flying toward the honey tree and Gopher shouts to turn the page so Pooh doesn’t completely leave the book. There is also quite a bit of interaction between the Narrator and the other characters–particularly Winnie the Pooh–between chapters in the original story. My favorite such moment is in “A Day for Eeyore” when the Narrator clears up the dispute over whether Tigger “coughed” or bounced Eeyore into the river:

Narrator: “Excuse me. Perhaps I can help.”

Rabbit: “Who said that?”

Tigger: “It’s the Narr-A-Tor.”

True to Disney form, the original film featured a fabulous voice cast made up of both Disney regulars and a few new faces:

  • Of all the roles that Sterling Holloway played during his 30-plus years at the Disney studios, he is perhaps best known (to me, anyway) as the voice of Winnie the Pooh. His filmography is long and varied (and we’ve covered it quite a bit here on True Classics), but for me this is probably my favorite of his many roles (followed very closely by Roquefort from The Aristocats). And while two other actors have since provided the voice for Winnie the Pooh, Holloway is still my favorite. 

"I'm just a little black raincloud."

  • This film would be the last performance for Barbara Luddy, who rounded out her career in the role of Kanga.
  • Sebastian Cabot, who narrated the film, was best known at the time of the release as Mr. French on the television series Family Affair.
  • Paul Winchell, who provided the voice of Tigger until Jim Cummings took over in the late 80s, was popular as a ventriloquist before taking on the role and actually ad-libbed Tigger’s famed “TTFN” line.

"My balloon. My birthday balloon. Red. My favorite color."

  • John Fielder provided the voice of Piglet from the original featurettes all the way through the TV show and the direct-to-video movies until Pooh’s Heffalump Movie in 2005, when he passed away. He was also a character actor in Hollywood for many years and appeared in such classic films as 12 Angry Men (1957), That Touch of Mink (1962), and True Grit (1969) as well as an untold number of television series (including perhaps his most notable role as the neurotic Mr. Peterson on The Bob Newhart Show in the 1970s).
  • The voice of Roo was done by several different child actors including Clint Howard, Ron Howard’s little brother.

"Tut tut. It looks like rain."

I think what I love most about these stories is the wonderful songs and quotes sprinkled throughout. I love a good Sherman Brothers soundtrack, and this one is no exception, with great classics like “I’m Just a Little Black Rain Cloud,” “Heffalumps and Woozles,” and, of course, the title song, “Winnie the Pooh.”

I recently found out that Disney is releasing a brand new, feature-length, traditionally animated film this summer called Winnie the Pooh.

This feature is expected to include stories from the books that were not included in the original film and will ultimately be more in line with the original film than the many spinoff shows and movies. It will feature the voice of Jim Cummings, who has been speaking for Pooh and Tigger since the 80s, and will have John Cleese taking over as the Narrator.

That’s it for this week’s edition of Saturday Morning Cartoons. Until next time, as Tigger says, “T-T-F-N!”

"T-T-F-N ... Ta-Ta for now!"

Because I’m a Lady-That’s Why

Posted on by under carrie's faves, classic disney, nikki's faves, saturday morning cartoons

The Aristocats marks the beginning of the transitional period between the Walt era and the Renaissance that took the studio by storm in the late 80s and 90s, and as such is full of lasts and firsts.  Most notably, this was the last story that Walt approved and the first film to be completed after his death.

The voice talent in this film is absolutely fabulous:

  • Maurice Chevalier had actually already retired when the film was in production, but when the Sherman brothers wrote the title song for the film, they knew there was only one person who could do it justice; so, using family connections, they sent Chevalier the demo and asked if he would record the song–and Chevalier agreed.  

  • Bill Thompson, the original voice of Droopy Dog and who had brought to life such Disney characters as the White Rabbit, Mr. Smee, and Jock the Scottie dog passed away a year after the film was released, making Uncle Waldo his final role.
  • This film marked the first Disney roles for Eva Gabor and Pat Buttram.  Incidentally, at the time they recorded the audio for The Aristocats, they were both appearing on Green Acres but they actually don’t share any scenes in the The Aristocats.  Both would come back to the Disney studio at least twice more: Gabor as Miss Bianca in the Rescuers movies and Buttram as the Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood and Chief in The Fox and the Hound.  

  • Among some of the other better known actors on the film were Sterling Holloway, Carole Shelley (for our Wicked fans, this is the same person who would go on to play Madame Morrible), Paul Winchell, and George Lindsey (best known to fans as Goober of The Andy Griffith Show).
  • This film also features one of my absolute favorite voice actors to ever work for the studio: Phil Harris.  I adore Phil Harris.  I love the characters he voiced (Baloo, O’Malley, Little John, and Patou from Rock-a-Doodle).  Harris was one of the first character actors that I remember knowing by name (thank you, Robin Hood credits!) While each of his characters was different, they were all very distinctly Phil Harris characters.

Carrie and Brandie have both talked in recent weeks about the use and reuse of pieces in animation, but I recently realized that Disney didn’t just recycle animation–they also recycled bits of score, too. During a recent viewing, while I was watching the chase sequences between Edgar, Napoleon, and Lafayette, I noticed that if I closed my eyes I didn’t see this chase but rather the end of Robin Hood where Robin is breaking everyone out of the castle. There were some appropriate sound effect differences, but the underlying score is the same. I guess when you have the same people doing the music each time, it’s expected, but somehow, I don’t think Walt would have approved.

"Because I'm a lady-that's why."

Finally, no post about The Aristocats would be complete without talking about one of True Classics’ favorite Disney characters of all time: Marie. She is feisty, adorable, sweet, not afraid to fight with her brothers, and not above calling on her mom when she things don’t go her way. She delivers some of my favorite lines, including the title of this post and, “Ladies don’t start fights. But they can finish them.” She is just too cute for words.

"Everybody wants to be a cat."

Look for the bare necessities.

Posted on by under classic disney, lit adaptations, saturday morning cartoons

The Disney track record for adapting classic works of literature continued with the release of The Jungle Book in 1967. Based on the tales of British writer Rudyard Kipling, the movie is perhaps most notable as the last film to be produced by Walt Disney, as he passed away before it was completed.

The film tells the story of Mowgli, a boy who is raised by wolves in the middle of the jungle. Bagheera, a black panther who has taken on the role of protector for the “man-cub,” discovers that Shere Khan, a man-eating tiger, has reappeared in the jungle and vows to take Mowgli to the “man-village” for his own protection. After nearly escaping the clutches of a hypnotic python, Kaa, the pair meets Baloo, a carefree, music-loving bear. Despite Bagheera’s disapproval, Baloo convinces Mowgli to remain in the jungle and live without responsibility or worry. When Mowgli is kidnapped by monkeys and only narrowly escapes danger, Baloo realizes that Mowgli needs to leave the jungle for his own safety.

Mowgli, feeling betrayed by Baloo’s about-face, runs away and again only narrowly escapes Kaa. Bagheera tries to organize the elephants to help them search for Mowgli, with the help of head elephant Colonel Hathi, while Mowgli makes friends with a quartet of mop-topped vultures. But before Baloo and Bagheera can come to his rescue, Shere Khan corners the boy, setting up a final showdown between man and beast.

Quite a few changes were made when bringing Kipling’s original tales to the big screen. Part of the reason for this, no doubt, was to lessen the perceived darkness of the originals. Still, in Kipling’s version, there are some obvious differences from the way Disney adapted the stories. For example, in the original Jungle Book tales:

  • Kaa is not a villain but one of Mowgli’s best friends.
  • Bagheera is less serious, and Baloo is actually more serious.
  • The monkeys are more evil as opposed to fun-loving and goofy.
  • Mowgli does not rebel against the idea of going to the “man-village;” in fact, he makes the decision to go himself.
  • Mowgli kills Shere Khan and skins him.

Additionally, while the film ends with Mowgli’s arrival in the “man-village,” Kipling’s stories continue past that time, showing Mowgli’s interactions with the human tribe, his eventual casting-out (after being accused of black magic by a jealous rival), and his revenge upon the village for wronging him.

As Carrie pointed out in last week’s review of The Sword in the Stone (1963), the Disney animators had a habit of recycling old animation sequences to save time and money (see the comparison between Wart and his dogs and Mowgli and his wolf brothers). In the case of The Jungle Book, the dance sequence between Baloo and King Louie (which you can see in the clip posted below) would later be reused in 1973′s Robin Hood as a dance between Little John (who is, essentially, Baloo wearing clothes) and Lady Cluck, Maid Marian’s attendant.

The Jungle Book features a great soundtrack, most notably Baloo’s paean to idleness, “The Bare Necessities,” the elephant’s marching song (“Colonel Hathi’s March”), and “I Wan’na Be Like You,” in which King Louie (fittingly played by the indelible King of Swing, Louis Prima) and his monkey brethren try to discover the secret of “Man’s red flower” (fire) from Mowgli.

Tell me you’re not tapping your feet and singing along to this one.

Prima is not the only star of this movie–in fact, I’d argue that out of all of the films in the Disney Classics series released prior to the 1990s (when the notoriety of Hollywood “name” actors began to trump the use of unknown vocal talent), The Jungle Book features the best voice cast. Longtime Disney favorites Sebastian Cabot (Bagheera), J. Pat O’Malley (Colonel Hathi), and Sterling Holloway (Kaa) all make appearances, as does character actor Clint Howard (actor/director Ron Howard’s younger brother) as Hathi’s son, Junior. The movie also features Verna Felton (Hathi’s wife, Winifred), in her final voiceover role for the studio. Sadly, Felton died the day before Walt himself passed away in 1966.

And arguably trumping them all is the unmistakable purr of George Sanders as the sleek Bengal tiger, Shere Khan. The oily, charming, and always droll timbre of Sanders’ voice is absolutely perfect for the role. Listening to Shere Khan speak never fails to send a shiver up my spine.

The movie almost featured another famous set of voices. The four vultures were designed to resemble The Beatles, and in fact the original plan was to have the Fab Four provide the voices of the birds.

The only problem with this plan? The band wasn’t in on it–it had been proposed by their manager, and when informed of the proposal, the four members immediately turned it down. Still, it’s no coincidence that the vultures not only look but sound like The Beatles–vocalists Digby Wolfe, Tim Hudson, Chad Stuart, and the aforementioned O’Malley deliberately crafted their performances in deliberate homage to the band.

The Disney-fied Jungle Book characters, sans Mowgli, would later show up in the early-90s cartoon series Tale Spin, in which Baloo becomes a pilot, Louie a bar owner, and Shere Khan a ruthless businessman (this show was, admittedly, one of my favorites as a kid–I’ve seen every episode multiple times!). And the characters were again revisited in the late-90s cartoon Jungle Cubs, which portrayed the jungle critters as children.

The Jungle Book is one of the better films to come from the 60s/70s era of Disney animation, in my opinion. Combining an excellent cast with colorful animation and a great soundtrack, it has all the elements that make Disney films such an integral part of animated history.

Most everyone’s mad here. I’m not all there myself.

Posted on by under 5-star films, brandie's faves, classic cartoons, classic disney, lit adaptations, saturday morning cartoons

One of my favorite stories of all time is the tale of Alice and her journey down the rabbit hole. I’ve read the Lewis Carroll Alice books (1865′s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and the 1871 sequel, Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There) more times than I can remember over the years, and every time I pick them up, it’s like greeting old friends. And I never fail to find something new every single time, whether noticing something I never seemed to catch before, or simply recalling a moment that I had forgotten I’d enjoyed as a child.

There have been more adaptations of the Alice stories–on film, television, the stage–than I could even hope to list here. Having seen quite a few of them myself, however, I can honestly say that my favorite version of the story is Walt Disney’s 1951 version–and, in fact, this film is probably my favorite entry in the classic Disney canon.

My opinion is not a popular one, I know. There are many who say that the story, after being Disney-fied, loses some of its satirical sharpness; others accuse Disney of failing to pay homage to the source material by overly Americanizing it. But for all its faults–and yes, I acknowledge that they exist–Disney’s Alice remains faithful to the anarchic spirit of the original, reveling in the nonsensical and heightening the delirium to almost euphoric levels. The animation and musicality of the film only serve to elevate this sense–along with Fantasia, this is one of Walt’s most musically diverse films, and in fact features the most songs of any Disney picture (though that number is generally ignored, as most of the songs within the film are mere snippets of a whole).

Disney himself had a long history with Alice, which is thoroughly detailed in an excellent featurette from this year’s Special Un-Anniversary Edition of the film (which, yes, I own and love). As a struggling filmmaker in 1923, he produced a live-action Alice short featuring the titular character interacting with crude animation; this led to a series of Alice comedic shorts in the 1920s. Disney’s signature character, Mickey Mouse, even took a trip “Thru the Mirror” in 1936!

Disney cherished the idea of making a full-length animated Alice for years–even before the decision was made to adapt Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, plans had been discussed to bring Alice to the big screen first. But when the Disney studios disbanded the full-length feature department in the midst of World War II, channeling their efforts into package films and patriotic propaganda, plans for an Alice film were put aside.

In the late 1940s, as the studio geared up to move back into feature-length pictures with Cinderella (1950), Disney moved his pet project back to the front-burner, and the film was completed and released in 1951. Initially, as with several of its predecessors (Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo), the movie was a box-office disappointment. Not to mention, critics roundly disliked the film, as did many fans of Carroll’s work, who felt that Disney had been too liberal with the original material. As New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther wrote at the time:

“Mr. Disney has plunged into those works, which have rapturously charmed the imaginations of generations of kids, has snatched favorite characters from them, whipped them up as colorful cartoons, thrown them together willy-nilly with small regard for sequence of episodes, expanded and worked up new business, scattered a batch of songs throughout and brought it all forth in Technicolor as a whopping-big Disney cartoon.”

The movie would not find an audience until the early 1970s, when its modernist animation, loony characters, and nonsensical plot found new life from enthusiasts of the psychedelic; it was subsequently re-released in theaters in 1974 to capitalize on this.

Crowther and other critics who chastise Disney for the episodic nature of the film do not understand that this was precisely Disney’s point. Removing the sense of narrative and focusing instead on the singular episodes throughout the story–a tea party here, a croquet game there–only exacerbates the gleeful anarchy that permeates the entire movie. In a world where nothing makes sense, are we even meant to expect a coherent story?

Furthermore, the film has faced derision over the years from literary purists who claim that it takes too much from both Alice stories without retaining the satirical notes of the original. And it is true–Disney’s version is unapologetically intended as entertainment, not as a social statement of any kind. In truth, though, would general audiences even be able to recognize Carroll’s pointed criticisms of nineteenth-century social stratification? Or the biting references to so-called “modern” mathematics? Why is it important to purists that a “good” adaptation include these things? The beauty of Carroll’s work is that it lends itself to multiple interpretations–and this is why it has survived as a classic of children’s literature for so long (let me tell you, I wasn’t thinking about class differences or … ugh … math when I was reading these books as a kid!).

More importantly, Disney embraces the surrealistic nature of the stories, reflecting Carroll’s innate playfulness in both the artwork and the musical numbers. The brightly-colored animation pops off the screen, engrossing viewers immediately–it’s one of the most brilliant bits of eye candy in the history of pop culture. This is due in large part to the influence of Mary Blair, a noted member of the Disney animation stable, whose gift with color is reflected in the explosion of shades on the screen. And the many tuneful snippets throughout the film retain the sing-song sensibility of Carroll’s verse-riddled dialogue, adding a sense of true delight to the happenings on screen.

The actors behind these characters comprise one of the better vocal casts in the early Disney repertoire. Kathryn Beaumont, who was only twelve at the time, is a marvelous Alice–hesitant yet strong-willed, curious and indignant in turns (Beaumont would go on to play another Disney heroine, Wendy Darling, in the 1953 production of Peter Pan). Disney stalwarts Sterling Holloway and Verna Felton bring their respective talents to the film: the former voices the Cheshire Cat in a suitably whimsical performance, and the latter voices the decapitation-loving Queen of Hearts with gusto. Ed Wynn is immediately recognizable as the Mad Hatter (which can be a bit distracting–Disney films have always loved their notable vocalists, haven’t they?), and the deliberate-voiced Richard Haydn (so wonderful in 1941′s Ball of Fire and 1965′s The Sound of Music, among other roles) is the perfect embodiment of the snooty Caterpillar.

Yes, there are weaknesses in Disney’s version of events. If you are a strict lover of plot and narrative, you will not enjoy the meandering movement of the film’s progression. And those of you who long for an Alice that follows the books to the letter will be sadly disappointed. In a way, though, I don’t blame you–as a lover of Carroll’s stories, I find myself saddened at the omission of certain scenarios from each of the books. Not that this is entirely unexpected; the novels are so intricately drawn, and so filled with memorable moments and characters, that it would be nigh on impossible to film all of them. Still, in cobbling together vignettes from each Carroll narrative, Disney’s version leaves out some particularly notable scenes from the books:

  • The “Pig and Pepper” scene from Chapter Six of Alice was planned as part of the film, but was ultimately not included in the final product. However, the DVD extras of the Un-Anniversary Edition feature the storyboards of the scene as originally conceived.
  • Both chapters from Alice featuring the Mock Turtle and his compatriot, the Gryphon, are missing (fun fact: in the live-action 1933 version of Alice in Wonderland, the Mock Turtle was played by none other than True Classics’ fave Cary Grant).
  • The tale of the Jabberwocky, which Alice finds in Looking-Glass, is left out, though the poem’s first stanza, “‘Twas brilling, and the slithy toves/did gyre and gimble in the wabe:/All mimsy were the borogoves,/and the mome raths outgrabe,” is sung in the film by the Cheshire Cat.

Regardless of these exclusions, the overall product is a masterpiece. You may agree or disagree, but in my mind, it’s difficult to beat the sheer artistry of the animation and the joyous spirit of Disney’s adaptation of the story. It’s evident that Walt was a big fan of Carroll, and his homage to the man and his Wonderland is a fitting and endearing one. It may not be perfect, but–as this movie virtually screams at us–who, or what, ever is?

We’re ALL mad here, after all.

Don’t cross the bridge or peek around the corner until you’re there.

Posted on by under classic cartoons, classic disney, nikki's faves, saturday morning cartoons

During WWII, many of Disney’s animators were drafted, and eventually the studio itself was commandeered for the war effort, making it difficult to work on big features. Walt had snippets of various things that had been in different stages of production when the war broke out, so he decided to put them to together a la Fantasia to keep things afloat. He did a total of six “package” films. The first two, Saludo Amigos and The Three Cabelleros, Brandie talked about last week; so this week we’re going to talk about the next three: Make Mine Music, Fun and Fancy Free, and Melody Time.

Make Mine Music (1946)

While Fantasia was a collection of classical music selections, Make Mine Music is a mixture of jazz and popular music sung and performed by living legends such as Benny Goodman, Dinah Shore, and the Andrews Sisters. Originally there were 10 segments but one, “The Martins and the Coys” (based on the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys), has since been cut in later releases because Disney felt the violence inappropriate for children. If you had the Disney Channel back in the 80s and early 90s, you probably saw some of these clips (including the Martins and the Coys) shown between movies and other programming. Here are my favorites:

All the Cats Join In

This one is performed by legendary jazz musician Benny Goodman and his band. Basically it’s the story of a bunch of kids getting together at the malt shop, but the awesome thing about it is how they employ a technique where the pencil drawing the cartoon as it happens is a character too.

Casey at the Bat

This is one that I’ve always liked. Don’t really have a reason. It’s a musical recitation of the poem “Casey at the Bat” by Ernest Thayer.

Peter and the Wolf

Of all the segments I’m covering today, this is probably my all-time favorite. Based on the 1936 piece by Sergei Prokofiev, this animated version of the story of the little boy, Peter, who went out hunting a wolf is narrated by Sterling Holloway (a favorite voice actor for Disney). At the beginning, Holloway explains that the different instruments signify a different character, making this a wonderful segment for introducing children to the pieces of the orchestra. As you watch the piece, you can hear the different instruments working together as the characters interact, and you can start to pick out which part goes with which instrument.

The Whale Who Wanted to Sing At the Met

This piece is narrated and sung completely by Nelson Eddy, who tells the story of Willie the Whale, who wants to sing at the Met. I know, for me, some of the music in this was my first exposure to opera and is still how I initially think of those pieces when I hear the name. Besides I really love Willie’s version of Shortnin’ Bread. :)

Fun and Fancy Free (1947)

Fun and Fancy Free is different from the other compilations I’m covering in that the segments featured are actually tied together by a frame featuring Jiminy Cricket. Jiminy opens the film singing the title song, “Fun and Fancy Free.” He then finds and plays a record of Dinah Shore telling/singing the musical story of Bongo the Circus Bear. After the Bongo segment, Jiminy finds an invitation to a party at Edgar Bergen’s house, so Jiminy decides to go see what’s going on. Edgar Bergen is best known to most people today as Candice Bergen’s dad, but in the 40s, he was a well-known ventriloquist and radio host. His two “friends,” Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd, were stars as well–particularly Charlie, who made it into several animated shorts. Jiminy arrives just as Bergen is getting ready to tell the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, or more appropriately, Mickey and the Beanstalk. The great thing about this section of the film is the switching back and forth between animation and live-action, and even the occasional overlapping like when Willie the Giant opens the roof to ask if anyone has seen a mouse, frightening Bergen. While this was only a year after Song of the South was released and the concept of the two mediums overlapping was still very new, it’s remarkable that the shots are as clean as they are given the technology of the day.

Bongo the Circus Bear

Bongo is based on a short story written by Sinclair Lewis (yup, the same guy who wrote The Jungle), about a circus bear who gets tired of living in captivity and runs away to live in the woods. Once he escapes the circus, he initially loves everything about being free, but after a really awful night and a bad morning, he’s about ready to pack it in when he sees Lulu-Belle. Lulu-Belle is definitely a flirt, making Bongo chase her until finally letting him catch up. Enter the big, mean Lumpjaw. He also has his eye on the lovely Lulu-Belle, and after a small misunderstanding about wild bear mating rituals, she accidentally slaps Lumpjaw, leading him to believe that she loves him. Apparently bears say “I love you” with a slap (because that’s the message we need to give small children). Once Bongo figures out his mistake, he rides in to the rescue, ultimately saves the day, and gets the girl.

Mickey and the Beanstalk

We’re all pretty familiar with one version or another of this story so I’ll spare you the summary. This particular version features Mickey, Donald, and Goofy as our heroes, off on an adventure to meet the giant and save the Golden Harp. Willie the Giant is introduced for the first time and would make appearances later in other projects such as “Mickey’s Christmas Carol,” where he plays the Ghost of Christmas Present (and mirrors the end of this film with lifting of roofs and peeking in to find the Cratchits). This film also marked the last time that Walt Disney would lend his voice to Mickey Mouse, which he had been doing since first giving Mickey his voice in “Steamboat Willie.” While in the film version of this segment the narration was provided by Edgar Bergen, if you’ve ever seen the stand-alone version of this short, the narrator is Sterling Holloway.

Melody Time (1948)

Much like Make Mine Music and Fantasia, Melody Time is a collection of musical shorts strung together. But unlike either of those predecessors, Melody Time features a master of ceremonies, Buddy Clark, to do a little narration between shorts. This film features seven shorts including such timeless classics as Bumble Boogie, Johnny Appleseed, Little Toot, and Pecos Bill, all of which were seen years later on the Disney Channel. Like Fun and Fancy Free, this film uses some live-action/animation blending, particularly in “Blame it On the Samba,” which features Donald Duck, José Carioca, and the Aracuan Bird while organist Ethel Smith plays. Here are a couple of my favorites from this collection:

The Legend of Johnny Appleseed

This is the story of how John Chapman became known as Johnny Appleseed. It starts with Johnny minding his orchard and dreaming of going west like the pioneers, when an angel appears to him telling him that his mission is to go west and plant apple trees. And so he sets off with a bag of seeds, his Bible, and an old metal pot that also serves as his hat. He soon makes friends with the animals and for the next 40 years, he travels, planting apple trees until he passes away and his angel comes to take him to plant trees in heaven. This is based on the true story of John Chapman, who went all over Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois planting trees and spreading the gospel. This is a fun way to introduce the legend of Johnny Appleseed and one of several American Legends that Disney has animated over the years.

Pecos Bill

The last segment of the film is Disney’s version of the legend of Pecos Bil–as told by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers to child actors Bobby Driscoll and Luana Patten (both were in Song of the South and So Dear to My Heart). The story details how Pecos came to be and is used to explain several things, including why coyotes howl at the moon, how the Painted Desert and the Rio Grande came to be, and why Texas is the Lone Star State. At the time the film was released, Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger were HUGE stars and were featured in countless films in the 30s and 40s. The segment features several songs including “Blue Shadows” and “Pecos Bill,” both of which are guaranteed to get stuck in your head. This clip has been heavily edited in recent years to remove all references to smoking (but somehow the parts about shooting out the stars were allowed to remain. Go figure). A popular favorite and one definitely to check out.

Brandie will be back next week to finish up our discussion of package films with a look at The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad as well as a post about Song of the South. After that we will move back into traditional animation with Cinderella.

Bienvenidos!

Posted on by under classic cartoons, classic disney, saturday morning cartoons

Continuing our weekly trip down Disney memory lane, today’s Saturday Morning Cartoons entry will focus on the studio’s two trips south of the border: 1942′s Saludos Amigos and 1944′s The Three Caballeros.

These two films were elicited by the United States government during World War II to support President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s ongoing Good Neighbor Policy, which was enacted to show support for and build strong alliances with Latin American nations. During the war, South America was considered particularly vulnerable to Nazi propaganda (considering that many Nazi officials fled to countries such as Argentina in the wake of Germany’s defeat, that concern was not too far off). Hollywood studios had been in the business of promoting patriotic American doctrine since the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, and Disney’s studio was similarly brought in to try to counteract the potentially dangerous influence of Nazism. Both films (Amigos more so than its successor) were thereby crafted as deliberate propagandistic statements intended to connect with Latin American culture via some of the United States’ most well-known cultural exports: Walt Disney’s stable of beloved animated characters.

Disney’s most famous character, Mickey Mouse, was not a part of these two films; instead, the lead role of Official United States-Latin American Cartoon Liaison was handed off to Donald Duck, who was actually more popular than Mickey at the time. Combining elements of live action and animation, these films are the first in a series of six “package films” released by the studio during the ’40s. These package films filled the void until Disney’s next complete full-length animated feature, Cinderella, debuted in 1950. Relatively cheap to produce (and subsidized in part by the government to boot), these two films helped the animation studio continue to produce programming for its audiences while saving time and money in the process. And though the six package films are not as well-remembered today as other entries in the Disney catalog, they are nonetheless vital to Disney history because they helped save the studio from foundering in the wake of financial losses from World War II.

Saludos Amigos contains four animated features strung together loosely by montages of Disney animators as they travel the continent, researching and sketching ideas for the film. The live-action segments are forgettable, for the most part–the attraction here is the animation.

The individual vignettes are:

  • “Lake Titicaca,” featuring Donald Duck, a know-it-all narrator, and an amusing llama at South America’s largest (and highest) lake
  • “Pedro,” featuring the flying exploits of the title character, a Chilean mail plane undergoing his first mission

  • “El Gaucho Goofy,” as Goofy learns the ways of the Argentinian cowboys in his own unique style (similar to the character’s “How To” cartoons from the ’40s, wherein Goofy taught us everything from how to play baseball and football to swimming and even sleeping)
  • “Watercolor of Brazil,” a musical celebration of the country that introduces Jose Carioca, a dapper parrot (and again featuring Donald Duck)

Music plays an important part in the film, particularly in the final segment, in which Donald (and, by extension, many of his fellow Americans) is introduced to the samba, a uniquely Brazilian art form. In fact, the title track of that segment, “Watercolor of Brazil” (“Aquarela do Brasil” in Portuguese) became a smash hit in the United States after its use in this film.

As with many Disney features of the time period, Saludos Amigos was nominated for Academy Awards in Sound, Musical Score, and Original Song (for the title track), though it ultimately failed to win any of these.

The tamer aura of the travelogue-esque Amigos gives way to a more–shall we say, enthusiastic celebration of the joys offered by South America in the loose sequel The Three Cabelleros. As Donald says, this time around, it’s all about “romance … moonlight … beautiful girls … ahh.”

Again, the animation is combined with live-action, though this film is strung together by the semblance of a plot–Donald has received a big box gifts from his South American buddies, and several animated vignettes accompany his opening of the presents. His titular counterparts include Jose Carioca (here christened “Joe”) and Panchito Pistoles, a Mexican rooster.

The vignettes in this film loosely center around the individual gifts Donald receives. The first present, a film projector, shows us a mock-documentary on “Aves Raras,” or “Strange Birds,” beginning with a look at the story of Pablo, a penguin who longs to live in a warmer climate (incidentally, this section is narrated by Disney favorite Sterling Holloway). This segues into an introduction of several other new species, including the annoying Aracuan, whose song will get stuck in your head for days on end (the Aracuan reappears throughout the film at various times, intent on causing mischief). The stories of birds then give way to the tale of the “Flying Gauchito,” a little Uruguayan boy who finds an adorable flying donkey/bird he names Burrito.

The second present is a magical book on Baia, a large Brazilian city, given to Donald by Joe Carioca. Joe shrinks Donald and takes him inside the book, where live-action mingles with animation as they meet Aurora Miranda (sister of famed Brazilian singer and dancer Carmen Miranda). The two cartoon characters erupt in mutual attacks of comedic lust at the sight of her (Donald more so than Joe, admittedly), and as Miranda and her friends break into a samba, Donald and Joe fight for her attention.

The final present moves the action north from South America to the sunny skies of Mexico, introducing us to Panchito, a pistol-packing, singing rooster who gives Donald a pinata and tells him the story of “Las Posadas” (a Mexican recreation of Mary and Joseph’s journey to find shelter before Jesus’ birth). Panchito then takes Joe and Donald to Mexico on a “magic serape” (yes, a magic serape) through yet another magical book. In the wake of their journey through the country, Donald, practically drunk on a multitude of kisses, enters a surreal scene in which he flies around pollinating flowers (take from that what you will) and chasing women, always interrupted by his fellow caballeros before he can “seal the deal” (so to speak). One almost wonders what the Disney animators were drinking–or smoking–when creating this sequence.

The underlying sexual themes of The Three Caballeros are hard to ignore–it’s like Disney Spring Break, “Ducks Gone Wild” edition. Donald is, as Joe calls him, a “wolf,” and his pursuit of the beautiful women he encounters (“Hiya, toots!”) produces an odd combination of laughter at his antics and slight discomfort with the blatant sexuality attached to them. This discomfort continues to grow; later, the Three Caballeros’ spying on the sunbathing beauties on Acapulco Beach from their flying serape smacks of leering voyeurism, and Donald’s love-drunk meanderings are filled with the phallic imagery of rigid cacti and the not-so-subtle sight of opening flowers. And it’s a little difficult to listen to Panchito sing about being “three gay caballeros” without modern associations with the word “gay” coming to mind (I’ll admit that when re-watching this film for this entry, I giggled at that line in the song. I never claimed to be mature).

As with its predecessor, this film was nominated for Oscars for Best Musical Score and Best Sound, but failed to win either award.

Of the two films, I would vote Saludos Amigos as perhaps the more interesting of the two, at least in regards to the animation segments with Donald and Goofy. Both films nonetheless have their respective charms, and though they are far from the level of brilliance of other films from the early Disney period like Pinocchio and Fantasia, they are still enjoyable, fun-spirited with some marvelous songs.

Next week, Nikki will take a look at the next three Disney package films: Make Mine Music, Fun and Fancy Free, and Melody Time. And I will talk about the sixth, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, the following week in conjunction with a discussion about 1946′s controversial Song of the South.

Watch what I can do!

Posted on by under brandie's faves, best.films.ever., 5-star films, classic cartoons, classic disney, saturday morning cartoons

I cannot tell you how much I adore this week’s Saturday Morning Cartoon. This is one video that I practically wore out as a kid from repeated viewings. I can quote this movie verbatim while watching. It has one of my favorite animal characters of all time: Thumper, the adorable, smart-assed rabbit. As a child, this movie both haunted me and delighted me. And from a very young age, it instilled in me a hatred for casual game hunting.

As you’ve no doubt figured out, I’m talking about 1942′s wonderful animated classic Bambi, Walt Disney’s fifth full-length feature.

Ahh, Bambi. So cute. So furry. So innocent and gangly.

He has no idea what’s to come, does he?

When Bambi was initially released, Disney advertised the movie as a full-out romance, focusing on the happier aspects of the film with little warning to parents about the deeper themes involved.

All of us who grew up watching this movie realize that such billing is not exactly true. Yes, there is romance in the latter third of the movie. But to get to the romance, we have to make our way through those deeper themes of death and destruction … and even after we’re rewarded with the romantic coupling of the film’s characters, “happily ever after” does not immediately follow, as more trouble awaits.

The movie is based on Austrian Felix Salten’s novel Bambi. Eine Lebensgeschichte aus dem Walde (Bambi. A Life in the Woods), published in 1923 to great critical acclaim. The book is considered one of the first “environmental” novels ever to be written (a genre that would later come to be defined by more scientific-minded works such as Rachel Carson’s seminal 1962 treatise Silent Spring).

As such, Salten wrote the novel for an adult audience, and the original story is rather grim compared to Disney’s lighter take on the material.

  • In Salten’s original story, Bambi is a roe deer, not a white-tailed deer as depicted in the film. Disney animators made the change after studying two live white-tailed deer for inspiration during the making of the film (roe deer are native to Europe, while white-tails are native to the United States).
  • The “sidekick” animals are given personality overhauls–nowhere is this more evident than in Disney’s adaptation of the novel’s “Friend Hare” as Thumper, a fun-loving, rambunctious burst of childlike frivolity intended to further dilute the grim nature of the original story.

  • In the book, Faline, Bambi’s eventual mate, is actually his cousin, and after mating, Bambi leaves Faline, as his own father had done, and she rears their fawns alone. Also, in the film, Faline is the pursuer in their love match; in the book, however, Bambi pursues Faline doggedly, fighting off two rival suitors to claim her.
  • The character of Gobo, Faline’s twin brother, is left out of the movie. In the novel, Gobo is thought to be dead but is later revealed to have been taken in by a kindly human when he is injured. He is later killed when he naively approaches a hunter, thinking he will be safe because of his previous experiences.
  • The novel follows Bambi through his adulthood, as he learns from “the Prince” about the ways of the forest and takes over the role of protector of all the creatures that live there after the Prince has died. Whereas in the movie, Bambi learns the identity of his father when he is still young, in the book, Bambi does not know the Prince is his father until the very end.

As I’ve already mentioned, the animators studied live animals in order to achieve a heightened sense of realism in the film, and the detail shows in the end product. When comparing the animation of the woodland creatures in this film to their counterparts in Snow White, for example, the difference is quite clear.

The rounded edges and oversimplified features of the animals in the earlier movie have given way to sharper lines, more detailed expressions, and more realistic movements. Disney’s insistence upon realism pays off in a big way, and it is obvious that the methods used in creating Bambi greatly influenced future animated depictions of animal characters.

The well-chosen voice cast compliments the animation beautifully. Four separate young actors portray Bambi throughout the film, one for each “age.” The cast also features Sterling Holloway (one of Disney’s favorite go-to voice actors) as the adult Flower, prolific radio and television actress Paula Winslowe as Bambi’s mother (she is also the voice of the pheasant), and the recently-departed Cammie King, Gone With the Wind’s Bonnie Blue Butler, as young Faline.

Bambi was released in the midst of World War II and thus did poorly at the box office in its initial theatrical run, though its subsequent re-release in 1947 recouped Disney’s losses from the film. The movie was nominated for three Academy Awards: Best Score, Best Sound, and Best Song for “Love is a Song” (though, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think this film is one of Disney’s better musical productions). It has since become one of Disney’s most beloved films; in fact, the American Film Institute chose Bambi as the third-greatest animated feature in film history, behind its predecessors Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pinocchio.

Beloved though it may be, the film is not without controversy in some circles, for yet again, we have an entry in the early Disney canon that seems to almost revel in its ability to frighten the young ones in the audience. Snow White had her murderous stepmother, Pinocchio had Pleasure Island and one big-ass whale, Fantasia had the demonic Chernabog, and Dumbo had the traumatic separation of mother and child. And Bambi … well, Bambi has to deal with the most frightening creature of all … man.

As a child, the implications are terrible. Man killed Bambi’s mother? Man destroyed the forest? Man pursued the cute, fuzzy animals and tried to massacre them? But … I am human. I am man. Am I … bad? It’s enough to send an overly sensitive child (like … well, me) into the self-analytical morass of some very adult questions.

The existential crises of children aside, the film does manage to impart several lessons about the importance of friendship and being kind. One of these lessons has since become known to some as the “Thumperian principle”:

Thumper: “He doesn’t walk very good, does he?”
Mama Rabbit: “Thumper!”


Thumper: “Yes, mama?”
Mama Rabbit: “What did your father tell you this morning?”
Thumper: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”

Bambi’s themes centering on the “circle of life” and the rules of the natural world would be echoed more than fifty years later in 1994′s The Lion King. And though the idea of a mother’s all-encompassing love is a holdover from this film’s immediate predecessor, 1941′s Dumbo, subsequent Disney films–particularly more modern entries into the canon–tend to focus more on the influence of father figures than on the constancy of a mother’s adoration (see Disney Renaissance pictures The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, Pocahontas, and Mulan, among others).

It’s a rare film that can combine the innocence of childhood and the wisdom of adulthood in a vehicle easily accessible to audiences of all ages. Bambi accomplishes this, and more. A heartfelt and decidedly wonderful viewing experience (despite the potential trauma of dead mothers, forest fires, and hunting dogs), Bambi is one of those films that has truly earned its reputation as a prototypical “great movie.”

Tidings of comfort and joy.

Posted on by under brandie's faves, classic disney, holiday picks

As Thanksgiving has passed us by, it is officially the holiday season, and that means TCM will be bursting at the seams with Christmas flicks in the upcoming month. The usual suspects (A Christmas Carol … yawn) abound on the schedule, but I want to direct your attention to a couple of particular gems that, though you may not have seen them or even heard of them yet, are well worth your time.

These two films feature one of my favorite actresses of all time, the lovely and clever Barbara Stanwyck, playing opposite two of her more effective male co-stars, Dennis Morgan and Fred MacMurray. Stanwyck, who began her career in Hollywood playing the vampish man-stealer in naughty (by 1930s standards, anyway) pre-Code films such as Night Nurse (1931) and Baby Face (1933), had graduated to leading-lady status in the latter part of the decade following an Oscar-nominated performance as the self-sacrificing titular mother in the 1937 melodrama Stella Dallas (Stanwyck lost the Academy Award to Luise Rainer, nominated for The Good Earth). But as the 1940s loomed, Stanwyck began to make broader strides into comedy, a genre that clicked with her natural quick wit and comic timing.

Indeed, in 1940 Stanwyck deftly straddles the line between drollery and pathos in Remember the Night, a comedy-drama written by future director Preston Sturges (for whom Stanwyck would make a splash the following year in the sharp screwball comedy The Lady Eve). Playing straight man to Stanwyck’s wily shoplifter is MacMurray, in the first of his four pairings with the actress (the most notable of which is likely 1944′s Double Indemnity, in which both play against type as conniving adulterers determined to kill Stanwyck’s husband for the insurance money). Also notable in a supporting role in the cast is Sterling Holloway, a prolific character actor who would become known in later years for his voiceover work in Disney films such as Bambi (as the adult version of the skunk, Flower), Alice in Wonderland (as one of my particular favorites, the Cheshire Cat), The Jungle Book (as the snake, Kaa), and as the original voice of the silly old bear himself, Winnie the Pooh.

The film revolves around a young woman, Lee Leander (Stanwyck), who comes before the New York district court just before Christmas, accused of shoplifting. D.A. MacMurray delays her case until after the holidays, thinking it will give him a better shot at a conviction, but in a fit of remorse, he bails Lee out of jail and takes her home with him to Indiana for Christmas. Through a series of farcical mishaps involving cows, fire, and heavy snowfall, the two fall in love, and Lee finds a typically sentimental holiday redemption in her relationship with the young, upright attorney.

Though this sentimentalism becomes a bit heavy in the film’s final moments, it befits the Christmas setting, and Sturges’ witty script and the performances of the two stars keep the movie on track and prevent the characters from completely drowning in schmaltzy tepidity.

This little gem is finally getting a new DVD treatment, which is being released today exclusively as a part of Turner Classic Movies’ Vault Collection (check out the other titles available through the Vault–they’ve released some really amazing rare films over the past year!). Remember the Night will also be showing on TCM on December 6th at 2PM, and again on Christmas Eve at 8PM. Make sure you tune in; you definitely don’t want to miss this classic holiday treat.

Nor do you want to miss 1945′s wonderful Christmas in Connecticut, a more screwball take on the holiday season. This film features supporting turns by two of my favorite character actors of all time, Sydney Greenstreet and S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall. Some may disagree with terming Greenstreet as a “character” actor, considering his (literally) larger-than-life persona on the screen. Greenstreet, however, was far from a typical leading man; he did not make his screen debut until his appearance as the “Fat Man” Kaspar Guttman in 1941′s The Maltese Falcon, at which time he was a robust 61 years old! In his very short career (Greenstreet would die only 13 years after his film debut), the actor only appeared in 24 films. Yet, what films they were–among them, the aforementioned Falcon, Casablanca, and Passage to Marseille all paired Greenstreet with, arguably, the greatest film actor in history, Humphrey Bogart, and Greenstreet’s portrayals of wily criminals often outshone Bogart’s nuanced tough-guy persona on the screen. Greenstreet’s supporting roles in these films were the essence of what makes a good character actor: he embodied his characters, putting that melodious English accent and genuine bonhomie to solid use and drawing the audience to even the most reprehensible of figures.

Like Greenstreet, “Cuddles” Sakall also created a niche for himself in Hollywood, impressive considering his sometimes indiscernible accent. But that was most assuredly part of his charm. His “hunky dunky” attitude and warm, open smile populated many notable films of the 1940s, including Casablanca (though he shared no scenes with his future Connecticut co-star Greenstreet), The Devil and Miss Jones, Ball of Fire (another gem starring Stanwyck), and Yankee Doodle Dandy. In the fifteen years between his American debut in 1940′s It’s a Date until his death in 1955, Sakall appeared in over 40 Hollywood films, making his mark in every one.

In the film, Stanwyck plays Elizabeth Lane, a writer who poses as a Connecticut farmwife in her monthly magazine column, though in real life she has very little aptitude for the domestic duties she espouses (particularly cooking). Stanwyck’s publisher (Greenstreet) sends Jefferson Jones (Morgan), a young sailor who had recently been rescued from his sunken ship, to Elizabeth’s “farm” for a Christmas visit, and decides to join them at the last minute. In order to keep her job, Elizabeth agrees to marry an old friend and use his farm as the backdrop for the visit. But borrowed babies, a wayward cow, a runaway sleigh, and a budding romance with the sailor continually get in the way of her upcoming nuptials …

The screwball comedy in Christmas in Connecticut flies fast and furious, aided by a well-paced script by romantic comedy veterans Lionel Houser and Adele Commandini (from an original story by Aileen Hamilton). The ensemble cast works really well together, resulting in a truly warm and familial sense of camaraderie that shines through the screen.

Christmas in Connecticut has been available on DVD for several years now (and is currently selling for an extremely low price of $5.79 on Amazon.com–go buy it!). I own this edition and, while it lacks any insightful extras, it’s still a wonderful transfer of the film–no noticeable glitches or scratches in the film itself, and the sound is wonderful. Plus, this is the original black and white–no icky, unnecessary colorization of this amazing little film!

TCM will be showing Christmas in Connecticut three times this month: December 6th at 12PM; December 17th at 8PM; and Christmas Day at 12:15PM. This is one you’ll want to watch with the whole family, so gather ’round!

I hope you enjoy both of these wonderful holiday films. And now that I’ve had my say, tell me: what are YOUR favorite little-known holiday delights? Post your comments below, and let us know what makes those films so special!