Showing posts with label Walt Disney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walt Disney. Show all posts

Friday, November 13, 2015

'Fantasia': A Live Action/Animation Triumph



Mickey Mouse: [Pulling on Stokowski's coat] Mr. Stokowski! Mr. Stokowski!

[Mickey whistles to get Stokowski's attention]

Mickey Mouse: My congratulations, sir!

Leopold Stokowski: [shaking hands with Mickey] Congratulations to you, Mickey!

Mickey Mouse: Gee, thanks! Heh heh! Well, so long! I'll be seeing ya!

Leopold Stokowski: Goodbye!

Classical music and cough drops. That's what I think of when I think of Walt Disney's "Fantasia," which premiered on this day in 1940.

I was a senior in high school when I saw "Fantasia" for the first time. I had seen other Walt Disney movies, of course, just not that one. And I probably wouldn't have seen it then, had it not been for the fact that I was in love and my girlfriend talked me into seeing it when it was being shown one night on one of the college campuses in my hometown.

I don't know why I hadn't seen it before. It doesn't seem to have been a conscious choice that I made, but maybe it was. Maybe I saw or heard about something that was in it that I didn't like and decided I didn't want to see the movie, but I honestly have no memory of anything like that.

And, while I probably wouldn't have said this at the time, it would have been a mistake never to have seen it.

If I did make a conscious decision not to see it, it was probably because of the classical music. I didn't care for much classical music when I was 17. My tastes have changed since I was a teenager — it happens to all of us — and today I am inclined to view "Fantasia" as a multimedia triumph.

The movie opened with a fellow named Deems Taylor, a composer/music critic, who explained to the audience that "Fantasia" had "three kinds of music ... 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. Then there's a third kind, music that exists simply for its own sake."

The composition that would open the movie, Taylor said, was of the third kind. It is called absolute music, and Taylor said it would be accompanied by images on the screen that might be like the mental images one would have while listening to the music being performed in a concert hall.

The result was a two–hour experience that was, simultaneously, like ones I had had at home and unlike any I had ever had.

My parents made sure I was exposed to all kinds of music when I was growing up. My mother loved bluegrass, my father liked Middle Eastern music, and they both liked classical music. I added some personal favorites to the list — rock music, of course, and jazz and blues. As a result, my music collection looks like a rummage sale — albeit a classy rummage sale.

The music wasn't entirely unfamiliar to me. But the Walt Disney animation was a new twist on things.

And there was no telling what kind of images would be conjured by the music.

Probably the most famous segment of the movie was the "Sorcerer's Apprentice" starring Mickey Mouse.

That, as I understand it, was the inspiration for the movie — a short cartoon of the "Sorcerer's Apprentice." Disney and conductor Leopold Stokowski concluded that the concept of merging animation and classical music with live action imagery was too good to limit to a single cartoon so they went about putting together a two–hour movie.

I had no complaints about the music that was included in the movie, but at the time I would have liked to have seen "Peter and the Wolf" included. As a child, I remember listening to a recording of "Peter and the Wolf" and enjoyed it immensely. It was probably my first real introduction to classical music.

I learned later that Disney made a feature based on the "Sorcerer's Apprentice" in 1946 that was originally meant to be a sequel to "Fantasia." Great minds, huh?

Oh, and about those cough drops ...

We went to see this movie at about this time of the year, and I had a cold. Karen had a very strong nurturing instinct, and she insisted that I pop a cough drop in my mouth before we went to the movie. The flavor of wild cherries always seems to be in my mouth whenever I see "Fantasia," and I haven't used cough drops since that afternoon.

The American Film Institute rated "Fantasia" No. 58 on its 1998 list of the top 100 movies of the previous 100 years. Oddly, it received no Oscar nominations, not even for music or animation.

But 75 years later it is still one of the best animated motion pictures you will ever see.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

'Mary Poppins' Was a Musical Moneymaker



"Kindly do not attempt to cloud the issue with facts."

George Banks (David Tomlinson)

Fifty years ago, it was still possible to win an Oscar for acting in a musical that was, essentially, written for children.

Julie Andrews proved that, winning Best Actress for her performance in "Mary Poppins" over some formidable competition: Anne Bancroft, Sophia Loren, Debbie Reynolds and Kim Stanley.

"Mary Poppins" was nominated for 13 Oscars in all and won five. Few musicals have had the kind of influence on the culture that "Mary Poppins" had. For years after they saw "Mary Poppins" at the theaters, kids everywhere were singing "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," "A Spoonful of Sugar" and "Chim Chim Cher–ee" as effortlessly as any of the older, more traditional (and, perhaps, in some quarters, better known) songs of childhood.

My family had the soundtrack, and my brother and I listened to it over and over. Even though the movie had been away from the big screens for years. Surely, we weren't the only ones!

Just about every child must have recognized Mary Poppins with her trademark umbrella, especially when she was descending over the London skyline. It's kind of hard to forget a thing like that.

In the movie, the enchanting Mary Poppins was retained to be the nanny for two children who had a reputation for running off nannies. But things just had a way of working out for Mary Poppins.

So she came to work in the Banks household — the family patriarch, the aptly named Mr. Banks, was a banker. Turned out Mary was a close friend of a jack–of–all–trades by the name of Bert (Dick Van Dyke). Bert happened to be in her neighborhood, and their interplay suggested that they had been friends for a long time. Long enough, anyway, for Mary Poppins' abrupt arrivals and departures to come as no surprise to Bert. Apparently, he'd seen it all before.

I never had the opportunity to see "Mary Poppins" on the big screen. I saw it on my family's TV, and I loved the whole movie, but my favorite scene involved Ed Wynn as Uncle Albert who floated in the air when he laughed.

Uncle Albert loved to laugh; appropriately, his song was "I Love to Laugh."

The songs in "Mary Poppins" were all first rate. "Chim Chim Cher–ee," sung by Bert as a chimney sweep (one of several jobs he had during the movie), won the Oscar for Best Song.

It's been a long time since I have seen "Mary Poppins." In fact, I probably haven't seen it all the way through since I was a child. But even now, when I see a clip of a song, the lyrics come easily to my mind, summoned forth from wherever they were buried in my brain. I couldn't have recited the lyrics a few minutes before, but hearing the music and seeing the images brings it all back.

That was the magic of "Mary Poppins," which was the jewel of Walt Disney Studios when Disney was alive. It was the top moneymaker of 1965, bigger than "The Sound of Music," which also starred Andrews, bigger than "Goldfinger," bigger than "My Fair Lady."

Of course, those were the days when movies could — and did — stay at theaters for months, even years.

No one could blend live action with animation the way Disney could, and that was the kind of thing that made money for Disney over and over again — but never quite as well as in "Mary Poppins."

However, I would never underestimate Andrews' contributions to the movie's success.

Tuesday, July 09, 2013

The First Voyage of the Pirates of the Caribbean



"If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it."

Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp)

It seems to me that one of the best backdrops for a summer blockbuster has to be a movie that is set on or near water — or anything that one might perceive to be cooling and refreshing.

One of the big attractions of movies is the promise of escapism, right? Usually, you escape through a well–acted, intriguing story — but, no matter how intriguing the story or how top notch the acting may be, who wants to watch a movie that is set in the kind of environment you left behind when you entered the theater?

That isn't a moviegoer's only consideration, of course, but I'm sure that plays a role. "The Shining," after all, took place in a remote resort in Colorado in winter — but the movie was released in late spring. "Jaws" — if not the first summer blockbuster, certainly the first mega blockbuster — came out in late June. And "Lawrence of Arabia" — which was, of course, set in the desert — was released a couple of weeks before Christmas.

I remember, in my childhood, that the movies I usually enjoyed the most were the ones in climates that were opposite whatever prevailed outside. There were a few exceptions to that, but the best summer movies were, as I say, set on or near water or in winter — or anything else that made me feel cooler — which included, I suppose, any movie that could send a good chill down your spine.

Anyway, 10 years ago, "Pirates of the Caribbean" made its debut as a movie. One had to wonder why it took so long.

Pirates of the Caribbean was the last Disneyland attraction that Walt Disney himself helped design. It was unveiled at Disneyland in California in the late 1960s — nearly four decades before the movie version hit the theaters. In the interim, three other versions of the ride were designed and introduced at Disney theme parks around the world.

For modern moviegoers, that's the reverse of the accepted procedure. Usually, there is a hit movie first, and it is followed by an amusement park attraction.

In this case more than a couple of generations came to Disneyland and rode the ride before a movie with the same name appeared in movie theaters.

Well, that is a little misleading, I suppose. It was called "Pirates of the Caribbean" in print and general conversation, but that is really the name of the four–film franchise. The title of each was followed by a colon and the name of that particular episode in the story. "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" is the actual name of the movie that premiered 10 years ago today.

I visited Disneyland once when I was about 15. I don't specifically remember the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, but there were times when the movie seemed like an animated version of a Disneyland ride — if only because there was a certain similarity between all of the rides.

No matter.

"Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" was swashbuckling good summer fun. Some effects almost certainly could not have been achieved when Disney helped design the original ride in the mid–'60s; others probably were possible, but they would have seemed more primitive if they had been attempted earlier than they were.

The central character of this and all subsequent "Pirates of the Caribbean" flicks was Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp), a rather flamboyant character who, although a pirate, avoided all fights unless his participation was absolutely necessary. Depp truly made the role his own. (Imagine a combination of Keith Richards — according to Depp, the inspiration for his performance — and Depp's earlier portrayal of Hunter S. Thompson.)

(The only other actor I felt could have been as over the top as the role required was Crispin Glover, the dorky father from "Back to the Future" and the title character in the remake of "Willard." Glover brought enough eccentricity to any such part that he played, but I thought Depp did quite well.)

But Depp wasn't the star of "Pirates of the Caribbean." He was entertaining enough, but I've seen several of his movie performances that were better. The real star of the movie, I felt, was its special effects — the animated skeletons and all that stuff.

Probably the greatest drawback to this movie, I thought, was its length, nearly 2¼ hours. As it lurched to its conclusion, I felt that the moviemakers had tried to do too much. I noticed at the time that some of the children in the audience got antsy even though the movie had 20, even 30 minutes remaining.

I happened to catch this movie again on cable a month or two ago, and I found myself wondering, as I watched, about the fates of child stars, one of whom was featured briefly.

Most moviegoers probably already were familiar with Keira Knightley, who was the lead actress. Knightley, who was appearing in TV commercials and making guest appearances on TV shows when she was a child, made her movie debut in "Star Wars Episode I" and her first extended film appearance a couple of years later.

She was already familiar, to a certain extent, to viewers, but the young version of her character was played by Lucinda Dryzek, who was not yet 12 when this movie premiered.

It was a rare movie appearance for Dryzek, who has made a career of TV roles. In her native Britain, she is mostly known in recent years for her ongoing part in a BBC series, Life of Riley.

It's good to see a child star make a successful transition to more adult roles, especially given the kinds of problems many former child stars have had.

Friday, December 21, 2012

The Birth of the Feature-Length Animated Film



"It's kind of fun to do the impossible."

Walt Disney

By the time I was born, Walt Disney had an established reputation as the first — and last — word in animation.

My memory is that Disney and family entertainment were synonymous terms — and it was implied that animation was a big part of that although I have vivid memories of seeing Disney productions that had no animation whatsoever.

Hand–drawn film animation is a pretty crowded field (although perhaps the field is dominated by computer graphics artists today) — but, like anything else, it had to start somewhere.

And, 75 years ago today, it did.

Animated films had been around for awhile, but they had been in the short–feature form. My parents saw them in theaters when they were children; my generation knew them as Saturday morning cartoons. But, until this day in 1937, no one had made a feature–length movie in that format. And no one had produced an animated feature film in full color.

It's likely that animation would have progressed eventually, anyway, although I think it is equally likely that it would not have come as far as quickly as it did if not for Walt Disney.

And the root of that, it seems to me, has to be "Snow White," which premiered on this day in 1937.

It's hard to imagine the mindset, but the primary objection to the project was the belief that no one would be willing to sit through a 90–minute cartoon. Critics called the project "Disney's Folly" — yet, five years ago, the American Film Institute recognized it as one of the Top 100 movies of all time.

But Disney was a master showman who understood his audience better than almost any of his contemporaries. He knew that, for feature–length animation to be commercially successful, he needed to appeal to adults as well as children.

"Snow White" combined more realistic human features in the prince and Snow White, who faced the most dramatic circumstances, with the cartoonish dwarfs, who provided most of the comic relief.

One can argue that, with its tale of Prince Charming awakening a slumbering (and beautiful) Snow White with a kiss, the story and characters perpetuated stereotypes under which women have struggled for the last 7½ decades.

But, recently, Judith Welikala and Emily Dugan wrote in The Independent of how Disney's female characters have — to borrow an old advertising expression — come a long way, baby.

(I suppose it could be argued that they might not have come as far as they have in Disney movies if Disney had not died in 1966.)

The heroines of Disney's early movies, wrote Welikala and Dugan, had to have "a handsome prince, a tiny waist, a pearly white smile and an urgent need to be rescued."
Queen: Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?

In three–quarters of a century, they have evolved to be more independent, more self–reliant. More liberated.

Princess Merida of this year's "Brave," they observed, is "the first Disney princess who does not have a love interest."

That may be, as a columnist and Disney historian told Welikala and Dugan, more a reflection of the times. Women were more dependent on men in the 1930s. They entered the work force during World War II and many were reluctant to leave it after the war ended.

More and more women found themselves having to make the choice between their professional and personal lives. Although women were frequently told they could "have it all," most have found it a tricky — and elusive — accomplishment.

In many ways, "Snow White" is a glimpse into the values that prevailed in the 1930s — much as TV shows from the 1950s are said to epitomize that time in our social history — a time when children were told fairy tales they continued to believe into adulthood.

Kind of a time capsule — in full color.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Fess Parker Turned Out to be Mortal After All



I was having an interesting conversation with some folks on Facebook tonight after word had spread that actor Fess Parker died today at the age of 85.

One person staunchly resisted the suggestion. "Impossible," she said. "He's one of those guys like Sinatra or Jimmy Stewart. He couldn't possibly die, like an ordinary mortal."

Before today, I would have agreed with that, and, although I knew better, I would have added John Wayne to the list. Fess Parker was like John Wayne in my eyes. He certainly was not an ordinary mortal, and I would have sworn to that on a stack of Bibles when I was a child. He played Daniel Boone, an authentic American hero. He could throw a hatchet and split a tree. I'd seen him do it on TV. Before that, he played Davy Crockett, another authentic American hero.

As a matter of fact, I've heard that Walt Disney chose Parker over James Arness and Buddy Ebsen when casting his Davy Crockett miniseries in the 1950s. That was a huge break for Parker, and it sparked one of the early TV–inspired marketing frenzies when Disney cashed in on the popularity of the show by licensing the sale of things like coonskin caps and bubble gum cards.

Then, for six seasons, from 1964 to 1970, Parker played Daniel Boone in the NBC series of the same name. Interestingly, Parker again wore the coonskin cap when he played Boone — even though the real Daniel Boone never wore a coonskin cap.

But I can tell you that, when I was a child, you simply couldn't be an American kid and not have a coonskin cap (although I must confess that I did know some kids who didn't have coonskin caps — and I felt bad for them, to tell you the truth). It was part of the officially sanctioned uniform for American kids.

Now that Parker is gone, I have to wonder how the other members of the cast are doing.
  • Ed Ames, who played Boone's Indian sidekick, Mingo, is now 82 and apparently remained friends with Parker until his death. Ames reportedly visited Parker regularly. They only lived about a 15–minute drive from each other.

  • Patricia Blair, who played Boone's wife, Rebecca, is 79 now. She was born and raised in the Dallas–Fort Worth area (coincidentally, Parker also was born in Fort Worth, but he grew up in the west–central Texas town of San Angelo). I kind of had a crush on her when I was 6 or 7!

  • Darby Hinton, who portrayed Boone's son, Israel, is 52 now. My understanding is that he is a filmmaker, and his current project is a TV series with the working title Hinton's Living History. In the pilot, he, his wife and their four children travel around the country, experiencing history in many ways and in many places, including Fort Boonesborough, Ky., which was founded by the real Daniel Boone 235 years ago.

  • Veronica Cartwright, who played Boone's daughter, Jemima, is 60 and still does some acting. Most Daniel Boone fans probably don't remember much about her. She disappeared after the second season.
As far as I know, they're all in good health.

But you never know what might happen ...

Now that we've learned that Fess Parker was mortal after all.