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We begin our journey through the Disney animated canon with the age that began it all: The Golden Age. The Golden Age is comprised of five films – Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo and Bambi; all five of which are often considered to be among the best films in the canon. Films that represent the start of a legacy of magic and innovation. Films that really go to show how effective animated motion pictures can be in storytelling and emotion.
Let us start with, quite fittingly, the one that started it all.
Here’s some music to enjoy while you read this section.
Imagine: It’s 1934. Walt Disney Productions, founded twelve years prior, has become one of the biggest go-to names in cartoons. Having made his debut six years prior in Steamboat Willie, Mickey Mouse has become one of the most-recognized names in Hollywood; and he has since been joined by a whole slew of friends – for example, his sweetheart Minnie, his best pals Donald and Goofy, and his dog Pluto. The Silly Symphonies are still going strong and only growing their influence; an influence that would later spawn other beloved cartoon series like Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes.
One fateful night in October of that fateful year, Walt Disney gathered all his animators and story writers together, and proceeded to act out the classic fairy tale of Snow White; and then punctuating that little show by declaring that they were going to turn that story into a full-length animated feature film. Now, this wasn’t the first time such a feat had been tried; but whereas films like El Apóstol and The Adventures of Prince Achmed primarily used cut-out animation, this film would make history as the first cel-animated film. For the next three years, the world would mock the little fledgling studio for pursuing such a wild idea; and even in the studio itself, there was doubt that this film would even do good, let alone make a mark in the history of Hollywood.
Spoiler alert: It did. It absolutely did. That film was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and it is a joy. I’m not gonna mince words here. I absolutely adore this movie. Mickey Mouse and the Three Little Pigs may have turned Walt Disney into a celebrity, but this is the film that helped cement Walt’s solid place in Hollywood history. It was because of this film that Walt showed the world that animation can carry a full-fledged feature, and could work beyond the usual pre-film cartoons.
And, if I may be honest…without this movie, I don’t think I ever would have become the massive Disney fan I am today. In a way, it’s almost quite fitting that the film that got me hooked on Disney was the very first film in the animated canon; the film that officially put Disney on the map. In fact, when I was a little kid, there were two Disney films that practically defined my personality: Snow White and The Lion King, but if you were to ask any member of my family, they’d tell you that Snow White was my absolute favorite of the two, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I loved the songs, I loved the characters, I loved the story, I just loved the entire thing, beginning to end. And let me tell you, it was practically a defining moment of my childhood to finally meet Snow White at the Magic Kingdom. In fact, of all the memories I’ve ever had of going to Walt Disney World as a kid, the memory of me first meeting my favorite Disney character is the one that stands out to me the most.
Even removing the nostalgia goggles for a moment, I still believe that almost every element of this film is incredible. Let’s start with the animation. From the moment Walt announced this project, the animators started using the Silly Symphonies as a testing ground for improving their craft in order to make Snow White the best it could possibly be. For example, The Goddess of Spring served as a means to work on drawing realistic female characters and The Old Mill tested out the famous Multiplane camera. Needless to say, those tests paid off tremendously. The backgrounds are lush and detailed, almost like illustrations in an old children’s book come to life. The characters are very well-designed; and their movement is incredibly fluid and realistic. And there are countless sequences in this movie that really prove how animation works so well as its own form of filmmaking.
One scene that stands out from a purely technical standpoint is the “Dark Forest” sequence, where Snow White, having just learnt that her stepmother wants her dead, runs deep into the forest and soon imagines the trees and branches as horrible monsters. Apparently, the animators took inspiration from the German Expressionist horror films of the time, and it shows. It’s a dark, epic sequence that doesn’t shy away from the more chilling aspects of the human imagination. As TV Tropes once said, “[…] for over centuries dark forests have scared travellers by night in similar ways. Every tree can get a scary, threatening shape in the dark. And every child fears the dark just as much.” And yes, it is incredibly nightmare-inducing. How nightmare-inducing, you ask? Well, by the time the film ended its initial theatrical run, every last seat at Radio City Music Hall had to be reupholstered due to the sheer, pants-soiling fear this scene inspired in the kids!
Likewise, the Queen’s transformation into the Witch is perfectly eerie. Rewatching the film for the purposes of this review series, I got chills when her hands transformed and the lightning illuminated the bones within.
The characters are likewise incredible. Snow White, being the first Disney princess, is a classic character. Although public opinion on her has soured a bit in recent years, I maintain that she is still an incredibly strong character. She always keeps her head held high, even when faced with the threat of death, and has a strong sense of love and compassion about her. In fact, if I may, I would like to quote from Up on the Shelf’s excellent review of the movie – specifically, how Shelf rebuts the common criticisms against the character:
“Consider this: like Cinderella after her, Snow White’s happy nature and songs are her ways of coping with her unpleasant situation. It keeps her spirits up and in turn she tries to spread that positivity to others who need it as well. She refuses to let the Queen’s negativity turn her as sour as she is. All the little things Snow White reveals in what she does – her patience, pride in her work, healthy emotional balance, drive to help others, and warmth towards those smaller than her (in both a figurative and literal sense) – are all signs that she is capable of being a far better and beloved ruler and all around person than the Queen is.”
By the way, I highly encourage you all to read the full post, wherein you’ll find a more in-depth defense of the character, and even how the character ties into one of many dick moves on the part of one Walter Elias Disney.
Furthermore, at least the filmmakers were able to give her much more agency, which is more than the original tale can say. In the original Brothers Grimm tale, Snow White isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box. The Queen tries three times to kill her, and Snow White falls for each of them hook, line and sinker. First comes a poisoned comb, which she is saved from when the Dwarfs remove it, then a corset tied on too tight, remedied by merely untying it, and finally, the poisoned apple. Plus, it should be noted that her keeping house for the Dwarfs in exchange for shelter away from the Evil Queen is not something the Dwarfs force upon her. She lays out those terms herself. Likewise, she’s also quick to lay down a few housekeeping rules to the Dwarfs — for example, telling them the only way they’ll get some dinner is if they wash. As Shelf said of her: “[…] despite her sweet nature, Snow won’t let them walk all over her.”
The Queen sets a high expectation mark for all future Disney villains. She’s vain, calculating and beyond terrifying. The mere fact that she is willing to kill an innocent young woman all because of her looks says everything we need to know about this character. But to quote once more from Up on the Shelf, there is another layer to her desire to get Snow White out of the picture that further ties into the Queen’s gargantuan ego: “The Mirror’s news is a wake-up call that Snow White is coming into her own as a woman and princess. That means marriage to a prince and the end of the Wicked Queen’s rule. Snow White will have all the power and adulation while the Queen is forced to step down and become another footnote in ancient royal history. Up until now the Queen has gone out of her way put down her pretty young opponent with petty cruelty because there’s nothing stopping her; but when faced with the inevitable, she unflinchingly opts to take more drastic measures so she can keep the throne.”
Plus, many people, including myself, have noticed something rather interesting about the Queen: the Hag disguise allows her full darker side to be shown. As the Queen, her face is always stern and she never raises her voice. But when she becomes the Hag, her face is almost always sporting a demented smile, and she nearly shouts most of her dialogue, punctuated with gleefully maniacal cackling. And Lucille La Verne’s performance in both guises is phenomenal. She wore false teeth, so she simply removed them to give the Hag her distinct voice.
The Dwarfs are also incredible. Their individual personalities and comedic antics are spot-on, and a strong reason as to why they remain among the more beloved side characters in Disney history. It’s a testament to the animators and writers that we believe the relationship between Snow White and the Dwarfs is a strong one, even after only one night. “The Silly Song”, in which they all kick up their heels in a joyous polka, is an infectiously energetic piece. You just want to get up and dance yourself!
The music is likewise well-known. So many beloved Disney songs have come from this movie: “Whistle While You Work”, “The Silly Song”, “Someday My Prince Will Come”, and of course, “Heigh-Ho”, all of which are classics that have stood the test of time. “Someday My Prince Will Come” even made it into the Top 20 of the American Film Institute’s list of the 100 greatest songs from the movies. And the sweeping score, composed by Paul J. Smith and Leigh Harline, is absolutely gorgeous.
But perhaps the movie’s biggest strength is how it tugs at your heartstrings, as well. According to the American Experience documentary about the life of Walt Disney, Walt spent most of the premiere screening incredibly nervous. Although the audience reaction was strong – they were even applauding the backgrounds, according to TV Tropes – he was still nervous because he knew that eventually, they would soon come to…this scene…
This scene, for Walt, was the ultimate test for Snow White. Could animation really pull such a strong, visceral reaction from an audience uncertain of animation’s limits? Could people actually find themselves crying over a cartoon? Needless to say, people could. Indeed, on that fateful night, the audience joined the Seven Dwarfs in weeping for Snow White. And even looking at it nearly a century later, the scene still inspires eyes to become misty and tears to fall. It’s a silent, somber moment, scored only by a lamentful organ. We feel the loss of Snow White just as hard as the Dwarfs and the animals do. As TV Tropes said of this scene, “One has to also keep in mind that the story had already elaborated that Snow White wasn’t dead and pretty much spelled out how she would be revived. Despite the film essentially spoiling its own Happy Ending, the dwarfs’ mourning is played with such earnest pathos that you can only feel sorrow for them.”
I only have a few complaints regarding this movie. First, there are quite a few segments of padding that the film could’ve done without. I think that there are quite a few scenes with the forest animals that could have easily been cut; for example, the scene of them rushing out of the cottage when they hear the Dwarfs coming, which I have to assume was added just for the purpose of the gag involving the turtle having to turn right back around again. And furthermore, why does Snow White end up talking in rhyme during her first scene with the forest animals? It just comes way out of left field, especially given that – with the exception of the Queen’s various incantations and the Mirror’s way of speech – no rhymes come forth elsewhere.
Likewise, “With a Smile and a Song” and “Bluddle-Uddle-Um-Dum” really grind the pace of the film down. At the very least, though, “With a Smile and a Song” is a decent song in its own right, and it does tie into the plot, as it’s shown how Snow White uses music to cheer herself up; and it is a nice, relaxing way to calm things down after the intensity of the Dark Forest sequence. “Bluddle-Uddle-Um-Dum”, on the other hand, is just padding, plain and simple; but it’s made up for by the fact that it’s really catchy and it’s got some good slapstick in it. And originally, it was going to lead into a second filler song, “Music in Your Soup.” Admittedly, when I was little, I was curious to see how they would’ve handled a scene of Snow White and the Dwarfs eating dinner; so imagine my surprise when I learned that they actually did have that planned. But upon looking at it now…yeah, no wonder they cut it. The only thing it has connected to the plot is that it does tie up the loose ends regarding Dopey and the bar of soap he swallowed.
Second, I really do wish they could have given the Prince more to do. He only appears twice; once in the beginning, and then at the end to provide the kiss that breaks the spell. They were planning to expand his role — a comic released prior to the film’s release involves an early story structure: the Queen traps him in her dungeon when she hears he’s fallen for Snow White and not her, only for him to eventually break out — but the animators had trouble with drawing realistic men, thus his two appearances.
Thankfully, we now live in an age where Cecil Castellucci’s comic adaptation of the film is a thing. Among the many things she changed for this adaptation is fleshing out the relationship between Snow White and the Prince, showing how these two end up falling for each other, forming bonds over their shared interests. It’s a really sweet way to develop these characters and provide some new insight.
But apart from those minor flaws, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is an absolute gem of a film. It was unanimously hailed as a resounding success by the critics and it made bank at the box office. Unfortunately, the Academy Awards decided not to nominate it for Best Picture, instead giving Walt a special award instead. Thus began the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ long-held stigma towards animation; their high-falutin fear that naming an animated film Best Picture might serve as a blow to their reputation…
…not that they haven’t had multiple blows to their reputation already…
…a good chunk of them in the last few years alone…
…one of which happened just recently, when they let the man who is currently destroying Warner Bros., and who is, perhaps, the biggest face of modern Hollywood corporate greed and everything the writers and actors currently on strike are fighting against, join the Academy…
Anyways, there’s no doubt about it. For being a landmark in the history of cinema, for being an iconic fairytale epic, and for being the film that introduced me to the wonderful world of Disney, it’s safe to say that Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is getting a solid S from me.
Here’s some music to enjoy while you read this section.
With Snow White proving that animation could play a massive role in the way we view films, Walt set about with making a follow-up film. Originally, the plan was to have Bambi serve as film number two, but the animators found it difficult to craft a story out of Felix Salten’s novel and were having trouble designing the animal characters. Therefore, Walt decided to bump up a film initially scheduled for later down the line; and thus, work began on telling the story of a little wooden boy known only as Pinocchio.
Like with Snow White, the animation in this movie is exemplary. Each setting looks like something from a picture book. I know I said this of Snow White, but I feel it applies to Pinocchio even more. Geppetto’s workshop has hundreds of unique designs for each toy and clock. With the lights out, Stromboli’s wagon immediately takes on the vibes of a prison cell. Likewise, there are many wonderful moments that stand out for me. Right from the very start, where we see Jiminy singing “When You Wish Upon a Star” atop a book containing Pinocchio’s story, we know we are in for a treat. And there are even more iconic animation bits that follow. The camera literally “hops” over to Geppetto’s workshop, with the detail in the window gradually getting ever clearer.
During “Little Wooden Head”, there’s a scene where Geppetto moves Pinocchio towards Cleo’s bowl, and we see him approach from the inside of the fishbowl; thus, we are able to see Pinocchio’s body distort against the glass.
That’s to say nothing about the famous Multiplane shot of the village Pinocchio and Geppetto call home, which still elicits awe to this day. There’s a reason Disney used it as the first clip in the film’s 1992 re-release trailer!
The nose-growing scene is one of the more famous scenes from the novel, and Disney did an excellent job adapting it here. However, if I may bring up Up on the Shelf once again – or rather, her YouTube channel “TheITinFIT” – I will never be able to watch that scene again without mentally hearing Joel and the Bots chanting “Li-ar! Li-ar! Li-ar!”
Oh, and by the way, if you’d like to see her review of this movie, there’s a really interesting discussion of the religious undertones of the story. It’s very interesting!
And then, there’s the infamous donkey transformation. As I said earlier, German Expressionism comes into play heavily here, as Lampwick’s final transformation occurs in shadow. Long has this scene been counted as one of the scariest moments in any Disney film, and for good reason. The animation is nothing short of eerie; Frankie Darro’s horrified vocal performance still sends a shiver down my spine; it’s just pure, unadulterated horror. Even though Disney sanded off a few of the rougher edges of Collodi’s novel, the film still retains the novel’s inherently macabre tone.
Pleasure Island itself is a masterclass in “crapsaccharine”; allowing children the chance to indulge in their own greed and destruction, whilst hiding the fact that something even worse lies in store. What’s more, the scene, as many have pointed out, is basically Walt raising a giant middle finger in the general direction of Coney Island and other such amusement parks of the time. He hated how those places were just these havens of debauchery, and when the development of Disneyland began, he made absolutely certain that his park would not be like what came before it.
And good Lord, is it a sobering and enraging sight to see these innocent boys be turned into donkeys and sold off for dismal fates, while the Coachman – who himself is heavily implied to be Satan in human guise; especially if his infamous “…as boys!” face is any indication – rakes in the cash from the sales.
Even more frightening is the fact that the villains really suffer nothing for their misdeeds. In a way, it’s even worse than in the book, because the book at least had the Fox and the Cat shown to be served their just desserts. There was going to be a scene where they try to scam Pinocchio a third time, but the police show up and cart their asses off to jail, but sadly it was cut for time. And at the very least, the video game adaptation cathartically lets us give the worst villain of the bunch what-for; by letting us give the Coachman the standard Disney villain “death by gravity.”
Speaking of villains, let’s talk about Monstro. Goodness gracious, his animation is incredible. I love the way they make him move. He’s an apex predator of the highest sort, determined not to let his food get away. The chase scene is a pure rush of adrenaline; and one of the film’s highest points. I love the way it builds, as it feels like Pinocchio and Geppetto may not be able to make it. And the animation of the churning waves…oh, so good.
Having read through Carlo Collodi’s book via Project Gutenberg and KC Green’s webcomic adaptation, I can understand one of the biggest problems the filmmakers had: Pinocchio’s character. In the book, Pinocchio is mighty unsympathetic; a little hellion who refused to just freakin’ learn. Every time the lesson seemed to stick, it would immediately go straight out the window, thus leading to him getting into further grim situations. It took until his infamous transformation into a donkey for the lessons to finally, finally stick. Walt was well aware of that, and he strove to make a Pinocchio that people could root for. Needless to say, he pulled it off. Pinocchio’s innocence and naivete make him far more sympathetic than his book counterpart. He wants to do right, but his forays into mischief are caused by naivete and blind trust, not by deliberation. We want to see him to do right, and we sympathize with him when he gets in a jam.
Likewise, Jiminy Cricket is a personal favorite character of mine. For someone chosen to be a conscience, he does a little bit of learning himself. He starts off as rather egotistical and irascible, prone to give up far too easily. He’s also quite a bit of a skirt-chaser; only taking the job because of how caught off-guard he is by the Blue Fairy’s beauty; and only taking interest in “I’ve Got No Strings” when the can-can dancers show up. But, as time goes on, he starts to realize the full scope of his responsibility towards Pinocchio; especially when he realizes what he nearly left Pinocchio to on Pleasure Island. By the time Pinocchio prepares to find Monstro, Jiminy promises to stay by his side no matter what. Helping matters is the fact that Cliff Edwards’ performance is absolutely wonderful. He gets quite a few good one-liners, and Edwards manages to give the character a lot of depth.
Despite his limited screen presence, Geppetto is still a fully fleshed-out character. Even though he only crafted him one night ago, you can still feel the sheer love he has for his wooden son. The scenes of him fretting that Pinocchio has not made it home, and of him searching for Pinocchio in the midst of a great storm are weapons-grade tear-jerkers, and only serve as to how worried he is for his son…which makes their reunion in Monstro’s stomach all the more heartwarming. And with all that in mind…it sure does make the fact that his voice actor was a rabid Nazi a much bitter pill to swallow.
No, your eyes are not deceiving you. You read that right. Geppetto was voiced by a Nazi sympathizer. Christian Rub, by name, completely and utterly worshipped one of history’s greatest monsters, and boy howdy, did it piss off the Disney staff. What finally got him to shut up about his beloved fascist was when the animators got their sweet, sweet revenge on the man. You see, in addition to voicing Geppetto, Rub also did the live-action reference, so when they did the scene where Geppetto’s barge is rocking about in Monstro’s stomach, they really rocked that boat good.
As for the music…well, it’s absolutely iconic. Of course, Pinocchio gave the world perhaps the most famous song to come from the Disney film library: “When You Wish Upon a Star”, which is indeed, an absolutely beautiful song, and one of my personal favorites. Cliff Edwards’ performance is one for the ages, and with a melody as beautiful as this one, no wonder it became the official theme song for Disney as a whole. But apart from that, there’s classics like “Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee”, “I’ve Got No Strings” and “Give a Little Whistle”, all of which are classics that have stood the test of time. Only “Little Wooden Head” would count as the “padding song”, as it were, but yet, the song is short, sweet and simple; and plays during a really charming scene of Geppetto giving Pinocchio a little test-run.
But… I hate to admit it, but there was one element that nearly ruined “I’ve Got No Strings.” There was, at one point, going to be an incredibly racist African caricature featured in that song – in fact, I dare say it was so racist, it’d make the crows from Dumbo look subtle by comparison – but thankfully, that sequence was cut out…for the most part. According to TV Tropes, the puppet can still be seen in the background; right when Stromboli is about to throw Pinocchio into the cage. Nonetheless, it is still incredibly racist and I am so glad it didn’t get a feature in that song.
Interestingly enough, as the podcast Escape from Vault Disney! pointed out in their episode about the film, all the songs take place early on in the film, and apart from a few brief reprises, there are no songs after “I’ve Got No Strings.” There were plans for songs past that point, however. For example, during the coach ride to Pleasure Island, the boys would lift their voices in “Three Cheers for Anything”, performed in the link by the Ken Darby Singers. There was even a song all about Monstro, detailing just how vicious and terrible the whale is. Why didn’t these songs make it into the movie? Well, as the “Three Cheers” video tells us, it was decided to forgo songs in order to make the Pleasure Island and Monstro scenes come off more seriously, which…yeah, I feel they made a good call on that.
Likewise, the incidental music is scored excellently, particularly in how they handle the clocks.
There’s a scene early on where all the clocks go off at the same time, and since they are all cuckoo clocks, each one provides its own unique counterpoint. It was quite impressive, to say the least. Plus, the punchline that Geppetto still needs to check his pocket watch to know the time is just a perfect topper. And the ticking sequence, padding as it may be, is still wonderful for two reasons: One, it’s on the short side, and two, it’s just worth it for the pure cartooniness of the punchline – Jiminy simply shouts “Quiet!” and all the clocks immediately stop.
Despite failing at the box office due to the war, critics were largely impressed with Pinocchio, and as the years went on, it gradually gained its status as one of Disney’s shining jewels. And yes, its reputation is absolutely well-deserved. This is just a classic, through and through. The story is engaging, the characters are some of Disney’s best heroes and worst villains, the music is legendary. What more is there to say? It’s a solidly perfect film; an absolute beauty among the Disney canon, and a guaranteed S in my book.
Here’s some music to enjoy while you read this section.
Walt always wanted to stretch the limits of what animation could do. He wanted to prove that animation was not just mere kid’s stuff, and he got his chance to prove animation’s limits the same year Pinocchio came out. After four years of development, November 13, 1940 saw the premiere of, perhaps, his most audacious film experiment: Fantasia.
According to Wikipedia, the history of Fantasia owes everything to The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. It was initially going to be its own separate short; meant to boost the waning popularity of the mouse that put Disney on the map, animation-wise; and Leopold Stokowski was hired to conduct the orchestra “for added prestige”, as the article puts it. However, as time went on, it was clear that this one short wasn’t going to be a big money-maker, so they decided to take this basic formula of “animation set to classical music” and make a whole damn feature out of it. Thus, Fantasia was born.
Often considered to be the most groundbreaking film among the 19 animated films produced while Walt was alive, Fantasia is a powerful piece of art if there ever was one. Under Stokowski’s leadership, an orchestra brings new life to some of the most famous pieces of classical music. Since the film is a series of animated shorts set to music, I shall discuss my thoughts on them individually.
Opening with a clever editing trick – the blackness separating and giving way to the orchestra area, almost like a curtain opening to reveal the world on stage – we are introduced to the orchestra; our host, Deems Taylor; and our maestro, Mr. Stokowski. As the musicians warm up and get settled, Deems welcomes us by letting us know what we’ll be in for. If I may paraphrase…
“Now there are three kinds of music on this Fantasia program. First, there’s the kind that tells a definite story. Then there’s the kind that, while it has no specific plot, does paint a series of more or less definite pictures. And then there’s a third kind, music that exists simply for its own sake. Now, the number that opens our Fantasia program, the ‘Toccata and Fugue’, is music of this third kind, what we call ‘absolute music.’”
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor: Best known for serving as the go-to Halloween riff, Bach’s Toccata and Fugue is represented here first as a series of silhouettes of Stokowski and the orchestra, then as a series of abstract shapes and colors. The animation is even stylized to mimic the pattern of the music. It’s a very unique way of opening the film, and the animators and musicians pull it off splendidly.
The shadows make for some impressive displays of cinematography and light. I love the way each timpani lights up as the musician plays them; and how each French horn player lights up in turn. The animation is very well-done, as well; providing a mysterious, yet inviting, way to demonstrate what this film will entail. There’s even a bit I really love where the music builds to a great crescendo, while the animation depicts this…
It’s almost like we are ascending into Heaven, in a way. If that was the intention, it would make for some clever bookends for the entire project; as the “Ave Maria” ends with that glorious sunrise, also symbolizing Heaven.
Plus, this shot of Stokowski projected against the sun…
The Nutcracker Suite: Selections from Tchaikovsky’s famous ballet are scored to natural images—“Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” to images of fairies spreading morning dew across the flowers and plants, the “Chinese Dance” scored to dancing mushrooms, the “Dance of the Reed Flutes” turning into a dance of the lilies along the water, the “Arabian Dance” underscoring the movements of a school of fish, the “Russian Dance” being performed by thistles and orchids and for a grand finale, “Waltz of the Flowers” set to a different group of fairies bringing the leaves of autumn and the first winter’s snow to the land.
This is one of my favorite parts of the film, for two reasons. One, this speaks to me as a dancer. I did ballet while I was in school, and recently got into the swing of it again through adult classes, so to see a piece inspired by one of the world’s best-loved ballets is always nice. Plus, let it be known that it was because of Fantasia that modern interest in The Nutcracker was aroused. It may be shocking for the modern dance enthusiast to find this out, but, as Deems points out in his introduction, The Nutcracker was not received well when it first debuted; and it was largely because of its prominent use here that people started taking a second look at it.
And two, the sheer beauty of the animation is excellent, strong yet delicate. I will admit, although I have seen the actual ballet before, for me, these are the images that appear in my head whenever I hear these pieces.
There are plenty of animation bits that I really love in this sequence.
There’s a bit in “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” where specks of light appear in the water in time with the music.
I love how the flowers in “Reed Flutes” look like ballerinas; their petals mimicking the tulle of a ballerina’s tutu.
The kaleidoscopic imagery of the “Arabian Dance” is hypnotic.
“Russian Dance” is just sheer exuberance.
And “Waltz of the Flowers” may be the best part of all. The animation is amazing; particularly near the end. The images of the fairies leaving tracks along the ice; and fairies taking the form of snowflakes are ones that are seared into my brain; mainly because this sequence was used to underscore Larry Groce’s beautiful rendition of “Joy to the World” for the Very Merry Christmas Songs sing-along tape.
Also, these dancing mushrooms…on one hand, they are adorable and provide Fantasia with one of its more iconic moments. On the other, they’re clearly meant to resemble Asian stereotypes, what with the slanted eyes and caps meant to resemble dǒulì, as they are called in Chinese. This definitely makes the sequence much more uncomfortable to watch nowadays. However, there was, at one point, a racist stereotype far worse than these mushrooms…and we’ll get to that later on…
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice: When most people think of Fantasia, this is what instantly comes to mind: Mickey Mouse in that red robe and that blue sorcerer’s hat.
We’ve already talked about the impetus for this short; and how it inspired Fantasia as a whole, but there’s something else about the choice of apprentice to note. It’s not for nothing that the sorcerer Mickey is apprenticed to is known as Yen Sid—not only is that “Disney” spelled backwards, but some of his features were taken directly from Walt himself. And the sequence itself is absolutely brilliant. The animation = spot-on. The music = iconic. The magic = unbeatable.
Everything about this is iconic. The first shot of Yen Sid working his magic, Mickey putting on the hat and bringing the broom to life, Mickey chopping up the broom in silhouette, Mickey nearly drowning in the massive pool caused by multiple brooms formed from the splinters…it’s just a sheer masterpiece. Plus, in a way, it’s kind of fitting that Mickey was chosen for the role. The Apprentice’s impulsiveness and laziness really harkens to the original, scrappier personality of Mickey’s early days, before he became all sanitized. It wouldn’t be until Paul Rudish came along in 2013 that Mickey got back to this earlier personality.
Also…could there be any more iconic Disney image than Sorcerer Mickey controlling the stars, waves and the clouds from the mountaintop?
Well, maybe the shot of Mickey greeting Stokowski could count.
Also…was the guy knocking over his bells a legitimate mistake; or pre-planned? I guess we’ll never know.
The Rite of Spring: The longest segment in Fantasia, the music of Stravinsky underscores a dramatic retelling of the scientific formation of the Earth and the age of the dinosaurs. This is another perfect example of animation and music blending together to create something incredible.
The opening shot of the Milky Way galaxy spinning out in space still sends shivers down my spine; and the volcano sequence is a masterclass in animation. The way the gas bubbles form and pop; the way the lava washes over the land…it’s breathtaking.
The designs of the jellyfish are breathtaking, as well. I love how they pulled off that transparency in animation. And of course, from these jellyfish and first creatures eventually form the dinosaurs. And these dinosaurs are incredibly well-animated. These majestic beasts go about their life; foraging for any kind of food they can find…
“Mmm…prehistoric spaghetti.”
…but their tranquility is interrupted by an intruder.
A Tyrannosaurus rex has come to town, and it quickly sends the others packing! Now, this is a creature that makes an impression! I love the build-up to its arrival. The way all the dinosaurs’ heads turn as the music builds, all leading to the first sighting of the beast as the lightning flashes…
The fight between the T-rex and the Stegosaurus is an incredible piece of drama. The way the fight is staged, the way the music compliments it, it’s all just so amazing! Plus, it was so iconic that it went on to be immortalized in two different Disney theme park attractions!
Alas, the twilight of the dinosaurs soon passes. Represented not through the impact of the meteor, instead, we see the blistering heat finish the dinosaurs off. From there, the segment ends much the way it began. Just as the waters rose to put out the lava, so too do they rise to wash away any and all traces of the mighty dinosaurs. And just as we began with a view of our planet from space, so too do we end it.
However…that was not the intended ending. The original plan was to have it end with the rise of man and the discovery of fire, but Walt didn’t want to piss off the uber-religious among the audience, so the scene was cut; and that ultimately led to Stravinsky himself disowning this portrayal of his music. I really do wish that Walt had the balls to go through with that ending. It would’ve been truly amazing to see that.
Intermission/Meet the Soundtrack: Nothing much to say about this scene. It’s nothing more than something to ease the audience back in for the final three segments. Although, I did get a kick out of the impromptu jazz. Plus, after seeing them in silhouette for “Toccata and Fugue”, it’s nice to get to see the musicians’ faces as they play. It’s like the movie is giving us a chance to acknowledge the musicians who are helping to make all this possible; like how the conductor has the orchestra rise to be acknowledged after a performance.
The Pastoral Symphony: This Greek-set vision begins with sequence detailing unicorns, satyrs, pegasi, cherubs and centaurs frolicking and dating through the lush countryside, under the shadow of Mt. Olympus. And…that’s it. Not much happens in this half.
There’s a sequence where two pegasi take their babies out to fly and to swim; and even a sweet sequence where the cherubs help two lonely centaurs (who are apparently named Brutus and Melinda – thanks, Up on the Shelf!) find each other. That was really sweet. However, with this glorious romp, there is something very terrible and incredibly uncomfortable that overshadows it; and nowadays, things have shifted to ensure we don’t see it.
Notice how you can’t really see who’s shining this centaurette’s hoof? Well…there’s a good reason for that.
Yep, those two centaurettes were part of this sequence at one point. Meet Otika and Sunflower, two centaurettes who basically had no purpose beyond serving as racist Black caricatures. These two also have the dishonor of being the first of quite a few major racist stereotypes in the Disney animated canon. They haven’t been in the movie since 1969, when they were edited out; and frankly, good riddance.
From this languid, laid-back opening, the mood picks up tenfold when all have a merry celebration led by a giddily-drunk Bacchus, a celebration waylaid when Zeus sends his rain and his lightning bolts down upon the frolickers. As someone who came into the world shortly after Hercules came out, and growing up with said movie, I was quite shocked to see Zeus portrayed here in a negative light; as a spoilsport ruining the fun for everyone.
Also, this shot of the baby unicorn crying out for help…God, that gave me chills.
Luckily, all is not lost. As with every storm, a rainbow comes by shortly after Zeus’ escapades, and all rejoice once more. However, as the events came to a close, I noticed something. Bacchus, Zeus and Vulcan are all depicted in a rather cartoonish nature; but as the piece draws to a close, the remaining gods featured – Iris, Apollo, Morpheus and Diana – are all depicted in a much more realistic sense. I guess that a more realistic style was more appropriate for the more calm, serious portions, while the wild, vibrant sequences called for a more cartoony approach.
Dance of the Hours: Best known for serving as the basis for Allan Sherman’s famous novelty song “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah”, Ponchielli’s piece is given a comical spin. Since the piece originated as a ballet, it seems only natural to feature ballet dancers. The only thing is…these prima ballerinas are all animals! Ostriches, elephants, hippos and crocodiles all dance their way through a wonderfully hilarious ballet.
If I may quote once more from Up on the Shelf, she went into detail about how well this works as a comically serious piece: “We’re never informed who the dancers will be, leading anyone who hasn’t seen this before to assume they’re people. The ballet itself is a parody of the traditional pageant, but the performers carry on with the utmost sincerity.” And ultimately, it works really well. This is a wonderful segment; full of delightfully cartoony glee. The music is catchy; and the finale is incredibly well-animated.
Also, I just noticed this on my viewing for this blog. Hyacinth wears different-colored ballet shoes! Hers are yellow, while the other hippos’ are pink. I never noticed that before. I guess it helps emphasize her status as the prima ballerina among the troupe.
Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria: The finale to end all finales. Besides “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”, this is the other thing most people know about Fantasia: a climactic battle detailing the sheer, unrelenting power of evil and its swift defeat at the hands of good.
Chernabog has gone down in history as one of the greatest villains in the Disney pantheon; after all, he is the Slavic equivalent of the Devil himself! Mussorgsky’s famous score lends the perfect, chilling tone for this celebration of all things wicked and nasty; and the first images of the short of Chernabog summoning the spirits of the damned up to Bald Mountain are frighteningly effective. Just the unique way these souls of the damned are animated as they rise…oh, it’s hair-raising!
Alas, Chernabog’s glee can only last so long. The sound of church bells and a new day beginning send him packing, and as a long line of monks traverse through the forests by torchlight to the sounds of Schubert’s famed aria, we are reminded that goodness will overcome all.
It’s a powerful piece to end this odyssey into the world of music and art; and I think ending on a choral piece adds another layer of emotion and beauty to the moment. It’s as if the Heavenly Chorus itself is singing to us. It’s not for nothing that this sequence would go on to underscore another ethereal choir piece: Living Voices’ hauntingly beautiful “Silent Night”, also from Very Merry Christmas Songs.
However, what interests me about the Ave Maria used here is the lyrics. Normally, the piece either uses a German translation of Walter Scott’s “Hymn to the Virgin” from his epic poem The Lady of the Lake, as was the original intention; or, as it is commonly performed today, it uses the Latin translation of the Hail Mary, but the version used here uses a specially-written text provided by the poet Rachel Field. She wrote three texts, one for each verse, but only the third is heard in the film. The lyrics are a little hard to hear over the orchestra and the chorus; but here they are…
“Ave Maria!
Heaven’s Bride.
The bells ring out in solemn praise,
for you, the anguish and the pride.
The living glory of our nights,
of our nights and days.
The Prince of Peace your arms embrace,
while hosts of darkness fade and cower.
Oh save us, mother full of grace,
In life and in our dying hour.
Ave Maria!”
And it all ends as the sun rises, perfectly symbolizing the triumph of good over evil.
What more can be said about Fantasia? It’s a glorious piece of art, and rightfully hailed as one of the greatest works not just in Disney animation, but in the Disney filmography entirely. Despite a rocky start – poor box office receipts and poor audience reception – Fantasia eventually received a reevaluation, and to this day, it’s hailed as a true masterpiece. But do I agree with such notions? Of course, I do! Fantasia is a masterpiece, and one that helped shape my love of animation and of music. This is absolutely an S.
Here’s some music to enjoy while you read this section.
As 1941 arrived, things were not peachy at the Walt Disney Studios. Their last two films had failed to make a strong impression at the box office, not helped by the fact that World War II was growing ever larger. Making things worse, union disputes were starting to flare up. The Screen Cartoonists’ Guild was knocking on Disney’s door; and Walt and his fellow execs were extremely anti-union.
Some things never change.
Anyways, Walt was confident that a strike would not happen and the studio would not reach an agreement with the SCG; and in February of 1941, gave the animators this nugget of advice:
“My first recommendation to the lot of you is this: put your own house in order. You can’t accomplish a damn thing by sitting around and waiting to be told everything. If you’re not progressing, instead of grumbling and growling, do something about it.”
They did.
The subsequent firing of Art Babbitt – the animator behind the Evil Queen, Geppetto, the dancing mushrooms, Mr. Stork, and most notably Goofy; and who was the most vehemently pro-union animator employed by the studio – was the straw that broke their back. On May 29, the Animators’ Strike of 1941 was on! This heavily affected production on the studio’s next venture, Dumbo, as much of it had to be completed by the lesser-experienced / scabs; while also being made on a very small budget. The strike was resolved in September, three months before Dumbo hit theaters, yet things would never be the same again at the studio. Walt was incredibly pissed that he had to give in to the unions. Making matters worse, this was also when Walt, inspired by what studio vice president Gunther Lessing was ranting about, became the anti-communist McCarthy-loving jackoff he became. But yet, through it all, they were able to make Dumbo soar. It was a hit at a time when Disney was in desperate need of one; their biggest hit since Snow White! I will always be amazed at how brilliant works can come during the most stressful, tension-filled times; and this is one of those works.
Dumbo is an effectively powerful protagonist. The fact that he can’t talk doesn’t stop us from endearing to him. We see the full blunt of ridicule the circus and society give him, and we see full-force his mother get jailed all for trying to protect him. Seeing Dumbo go through this pain only makes his success all the more cathartic and satisfying. Likewise, seeing Timothy be willing to stand up for the little guy endears us to him, as well. Who didn’t get a rush of cathartic glee when Timothy first stood up to the other elephants?
Likewise, the “Baby Mine” sequence is emotionally-draining, a real weapons-grade tear-jerker, and it really puts into perspective how unfair life has been for Dumbo. He can only be rocked by his mother’s trunk from the other side of her jail cell, whilst all the other babies can happily nestle up to their mothers without any barriers between them.
It is a testament to how well the relationship between Dumbo and his mother is fleshed-out, despite such a short runtime, that our hearts ache for these two across the span of an hour and two minutes. The images of Mrs. Jumbo rocking her new baby to sleep; and the scene where Mrs. Jumbo bathes Dumbo and plays a little game with him really emphasize how much this elephant loves her son. And the fact that this scene is immediately followed by the scene where Mrs. Jumbo is separated from her baby…
This movie is also notable for being the first vocal performance of two of Disney’s most well-known voice actors: Sterling Holloway and Verna Felton. Holloway plays Mr. Stork, and Felton plays the Matriarch Elephant, and also voices Mrs. Jumbo’s only spoken line in the film. And right off the bat, their legacy is secured. They play these roles so well, and their voices are immediately recognizable.
And of course, this movie is also where we get the mother of all trippy Disney sequences: “Pink Elephants on Parade.” A masterpiece of surrealist animation, this is a mesmerizing sequence, dangerous yet inviting, a nightmare and a dream mixed into one. These creatures appear in threatening guises…
…and in friendly guises.
It’s just a chance for the animators to flex a little, and it’s frankly glorious.
And now, since we’re discussing the characters…we may as well address the elephant in the room (no pun intended) …
I know I’m not the best person to talk about this concept, but these crows are, indeed, racist. Walking, talking Black stereotypes. Their characterization wouldn’t be out of place in a minstrel show. And as for the lead crow…well, there’s two things wrong with him. One, he’s voiced by noted white guy Cliff Edwards – the same man who voiced Jiminy – and two, although he and the others go unnamed in the movie, the production crew liked to call him Jim (although he was later renamed ‘Dandy’).
But yet, at the same time, the crows are still engaging characters in their own right. As the Unshaved Mouse described them in his review:“ […] by today’s standards, yeah. This shit’s as racist as a drunken grandparent.
By the standards of the time though? No. I’m actually serious. Compared to the shit that was going on in cinema at the time as regards race? This is a three, tops, on the Stepin-Fetchit-O-Meter. The crows are funny, smart, independent minded guys who display more emotion and depth than almost any other character in the movie. So I guess it depends on whether you believe movies should be judged by the standards of their own time or of ours. Your call.”
Likewise, as another major inspiration of mine, The Disney Odyssey, claimed in their review: “Yes, they are playing stereotypes, but after having spent most of the film with primarily mean characters, the crows are a breath of fresh air. They are smart, cool, friendly and they both support and help Dumbo to discover the courage to fly. They essentially become the heroes of the film.”
We can practically hear the joy in their voices once Dumbo finally spreads his wings. They’re so glad to have helped the little guy; and the last time we see them, they are cheering him on as he is finally reunited with his mother.
Another sequence, the “Song of the Roustabouts”, has also come under fire for racism. Seeing a bunch of Black men toiling in the harsh conditions is very, very uncomfortable to watch from a modern standpoint; but at the same time, the film kind of highlights their hardship. TV Tropes pointed this out about the song on their YMMV page for Dumbo, and I will reiterate it here: ““Song of the Roustabouts” portrays black laborers exploited by the circus putting up the circus tent. But the lyrics “We’re happy-hearted roustabouts”, given the downbeat tone of the song, is appropriately passive-aggressive and invites sympathy from the viewer.”
And that is a way of viewing things that I honestly agree with. With their harsh vocal tone and the way they put punctuated inflection on each syllable, you can feel the sarcasm oozing out of every note. The whole segment itself is a rather dark one, not only showcasing the horrid way these Black roustabouts are treated, but also showcasing how these animals are exploited for labor, as well. The shot of the elephants silhouetted against the stormy skies, pulling on rope to secure the tent, is a stunning piece of animation, and one that never fails to give me chills.
Yeah, this film pulls no qualms to showcase how horrid circuses can be. Almost everyone there—the Ringmaster, the clowns, the other elephants—are terrible people, and the clown act itself is utterly horrendous. The fact that they look down upon Dumbo just because of his large ears…it’s so goddamn infuriating. This film really pulls no punches to showcase how society is more than willing to mistreat anyone who they deem “different.”
What’s really amazing is, even though these elephants are treated as snobby and discriminatory, the film still makes you feel for them at one point. The fall of the circus as the Pyramid of Pachyderms is destroyed is a harrowing piece of animation. You feel as though those elephants may come crashing right through the screen as the chaos destroys the circus. Bear in mind, the stunt itself is something that modern society would never allow to happen. You just know PETA would be sticking their noses in immediately if a circus tried it today.
Also, there is the whole thing about how the clowns wanting a raise is basically Walt flipping the bird to the strikers, which…dick move, Walt.
I will admit, one thing the Burton remake got right is that they actually let Dumbo and his mother leave the circus and return to the wild. Given the world we live in now, where we know full well of how circuses treated animals, it may seem shocking that Dumbo would still work for the circus that tormented him literally since the day he was born. But dang it, I will admit it’s all worth it to see Dumbo get back at every single one of his tormentors, and to see the film end with Dumbo flying down into his mother’s trunk.
This may be Disney’s most satisfying happy ending ever.
All problems with racism aside, Dumbo is a powerful film. This is a film that showcases how horrid society can be, and yet, offers that glimmer of hope that we can change it for the better. It is, perhaps, one of the definitive examples of the underdog story. And for all those reasons, Dumbo is flying by with a solid A.
Here’s some music to enjoy while you read this section.
And now, at last, we come to the final film of the Golden Age. What was meant to be #2 instead became #5, premiering on August 13, 1942. And the crazy thing is…it was never really meant to be a Disney movie. You see, the film rights for Felix Salten’s 1923 novel were originally given to MGM, but producer Sidney Franklin gave it to Disney in the wake of Snow White’s triumphant premiere, believing the story would better fit animation than live-action. And in a way, he was right. Bambi, like all the other films in the Golden Age, is often considered to be one of Disney’s most seminal classics.
The animation may be the best of any film in the Golden Age. The film opens with perhaps, the most impressive Multiplane shot in any Disney film, taking us through the deep, verdant forest where our story takes place. And may I say, the design of the forest is expansive, beautiful…and in a way, familiar. The animators went up to Baxter State Park in Maine to get a sense of natural inspiration. In fact, according to TV Tropes, the burrow where Bambi – and later, his twins – is born still exists to this day!
And the animation of the animals themselves is incredible. They actually brought animals in to study their movements, and it paid off tremendously. For example, the fight between the adult Bambi and his adversary is incredibly animated. Performed mostly in silhouette, it’s a pretty tension-filled scene; and by the time it ends, you feel like cheering when Bambi emerges victorious.
The entrance of the stags, and likewise, the entrance of the Great Prince, is another impactful moment. As the stags leap about in the meadow, we see Bambi trying to emulate their movements, not quite getting it. It shows how much Bambi must learn; and how far he is going to go.
Likewise, we have seen rain in the films before, but I think the “Little April Shower” sequence is their best depiction of the rain. It’s a beautiful sequence detailing the animals seeking refuge from the storm, and images of the storm spreading across the forest. And the song itself is a masterclass in using music to help symbolize nature. I’ll let TV Tropes sum up the musical content thusly: ““Little April Shower” very realistically portrays a rainstorm through music, starting with the clarinet playing small drops, then joined by the triangle, before the choir joins. When it gets to the instrumental bridge, the rainstorm becomes heavier with cymbal crashes acting as lightning flashes and the choir singing “ee-ee-ee” to represent the wind.”
In this film, we follow the cycle of the seasons twice, beginning and ending with spring; and all of it focusing on the life and growth of Bambi. Bambi is an incredibly well-rounded character, and his growth is a natural, almost human, thing. We can see traces of human life rooted in his own. For example, as someone who grew up amid the forest himself; the scene of Bambi and Thumper playing on the ice is one I can relate to. I have many fond memories of playing out on the ice and snow in my youth. And his childlike reaction to meeting Faline for the first time can be felt in the hearts of any young boy who has met a girl for the first time in school; and likewise, his later reunion and romance with her in his young adulthood can be relatable for those couples who met early in life.
Thumper and Flower are very enjoyable side characters, especially in their younger stages. Apparently, Peter Behn, the kid who gave Thumper his voice, had this natural quality and bravado about him, and the animators based the character entirely around that. Thumper is probably the most “kid” of all three protagonists, as his behaviors are very familiar. His reluctance to eat his greens; his demeanor as he recites whatever his father told him…we have all been there at one point in our childhoods.
Also…I feel like all of us have made this particular face midway through eating something.
Also, am I the only one who thought Adolescent Thumper was voiced by Frankie Darro? His voice sounded so similar to Lampwick, I had to pause the movie and double-check if that was so.
And of course, Bambi’s mother is a warm and comforting presence in the film…and yes, her death is guaranteed to rip your heart straight out of your chest. There’s a reason the soundtrack calls this moment “Tragedy in the Meadow.” The way the music builds as she calls for Bambi to keep running; essentially sacrificing herself so that her son isn’t the hunter’s next victim. The way the shot sounds in the silence. The image of Bambi moving deeper and deeper into the building snowstorm calling for her is one that will always stand out among the more emotional moments in the Disney canon; culminating in that moment of solemn acceptance and single tear shed when his father has to tell him “Your mother can’t be with you anymore.”
Speaking of which, let’s just say there’s a reason the American Film Institute included Man on their list of the greatest movie villains of all time. Man is unseen, but that just makes his presence all the more ominous. He is a terror to these animals and to the environment they live in; a creature known by the only sound it makes: the firing of the gun. His actions not only cause the death of Bambi’s mother; but also set in motion the grueling climax; wherein Bambi not only has to save Faline, but ultimately evade the forest from a Man-caused fire.
If Bambi’s mother’s death is the most harrowing scene in the film, a close second would have to be the scene where a pheasant ends up putting herself in the line of fire. Making things worse…according to TV Tropes, “this is how you hunt pheasants; slooooooowly walk around where you think they are until they panic and fly for it.”
In fact, Man is so iconic a killer in the movies that Frank Churchill’s leitmotif for the character would go on to inspire the leitmotif of another famous, murderous villain: the shark from Jaws.
The entire climax is a masterclass in tension. The scene where Bambi nearly sacrifices his life so that Faline could be spared; it’s almost a parallel to the scene where Bambi’s mother did the same for him. The design of the hunting dogs is eerie. They look less like dogs, and more like hellhounds; and I wouldn’t be surprised if such a design choice was intentional.
But of course, Bambi does not die. Although he is wounded by a gunshot, he is still able to recover and join his father in outrunning the fire. The forest fire is also quite harrowing. Seeing all the animals trying to evade the flames, ultimately leaving their home; and the possibility that Bambi and the Great Prince may not make it…it really makes you marvel at the consequences of how Man treats nature…especially in this day and age.
My only complaint with Bambi is the sense of pacing. There are quite a few scenes that we could do without. For example, “Let’s Sing a Gay Little Spring Song” is a scene that the film could do without, especially since this saccharine song immediately follows the harrowing tragedy that is the death of Bambi’s mother. Many people have rightfully put down this scene; and frankly, I can’t blame them. We should have had a little more time to process the death of Bambi’s mother before being thrust into this twee-fest. Also, like with certain bits of Fantasia before it, I will never be able to see this particular animation without being reminded of its use in a Disney Sing-Along Songs tape; specifically, how it underscores the Enchanted Tiki Room version of “Let’s All Sing Like the Birdies Sing” in Fun With Music.
Likewise, I do feel that the brief moment of Bambi and Faline frolicking through the clouds – before being interrupted by the tension-filled fight between Bambi and the other buck – was a wee bit too saccharine.
Despite initially getting mixed reviews and not that great of a box office intake, Bambi remains an evergreen favorite of mine, and for many. It’s a harrowing, yet satisfying tale of life, love, loss and redemption. It’s the kind of film that makes you want to strive to do better in this world and to speak up on behalf of the animals and of nature. And thus, it gets a very respectable A.
And with that, the Golden Age is complete. Rewatching these five films, I can understand why many people consider this group to be among the finest films Disney has ever created. These are all wonderfully-crafted, beautifully-animated and just plain amazing movies. And considering that the final total is three S’s and two A’s, that’s not too shabby. What a way to begin the canon, am I right, folks?
The Rankings Thus Far
Join me again next month as the effects of World War II start to come down upon the studio, forming what would become the main form of animated film to come from Disney throughout the rest of the decade. We’re about to enter…The Package Age.
The next post in this series will be out a month from today (August 28). That’s my intention with this series: to do one post per month, always on the 28th.
All screencaps from the films reviewed courtesy of animationscreencaps.com.
If you can, I highly encourage you all to send a donation to the Entertainment Community Fund, to help support all those on strike. The link is right here: https://entertainmentcommunity.org/
Lost in the Itchy Lot 
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