Animated Films: 1956 to 1959

by Rachelle Klemme

With television and limited animation becoming more prolific through the 1950s, the Golden Age of animation was giving way to the Dark Age of animation. Hand-drawn cartoons were made as cheaply and quickly as possible with the art style ranging from unwatchably bad, to so-bad-it’s good (Clutch Cargo anyone?) to the stylistically good ones showing that sometimes less is more. During this transitional time period, feature TV specials for kids used the limited, abstract animation style while theatrical features stayed with the more detailed, representational style. In the United States, U.S.S.R., and Japan, high fantasy made these theatrical features since, at that time, animation could go where live-action technology couldn’t go.

Something else of note in this period of storytelling is that even though the 1950s are regarded as being a very sexist period in history, there are some very proactive and strong-willed female characters compared to the earlier animated films. Heroines and sidekicks in this batch of movies don’t just pine after their men – they go through the ends of the earth to be reunited with them. They’re not off to the side or along for the ride – they’re in the driver’s seat, moving the plot.

Our Mr. Sun (1956) – USA: Bell Laboratory Science Series

Limited animation, solid colors, and striking design make the cartoon segments of this first of four hour-long science-themed television specials produced when Frank Capra who retired from Hollywood filmmaking and collaborated on educational films with his alma mater Cal Tech and the Bell Telephone Company. The 1950s were a very different – and in some ways less polarized – time period: Capra could have references to God and the Bible in the educational program without his science background being discredited. At the same time, he could bring up the earth being billions of years old and show concern about overpopulation and weaning off fossil fuels, but easily maintain his credibility as a culturally conservative Christian and member of the Republican Party. Notable voice actors in “Our Mr. Sun” include Lionel Barrymore in his last role ever as Father Time, and the prolific Sterling Holloway.

Hemo the Magnificent (1957) – USA: Bell Laboratory Science Series

The modernistic outlook of the 1950s is all over the Bell Laboratory series: the titular “Hemo” character is not the first, and not the last cartoon personification who laments the old days when nature was mysterious, feared, and worshipped, and has to be persuaded by Dr. Research and The Writer that science and progress are good and constructive. The simple animation sequences illustrate the blood circulation system, and the live action scenes are an interesting look at the medical technology of the time period.

The Strange Case of the Cosmic Rays (1957) – USA: Bell Laboratory Science Series

The third Bell Laboratory special is the weakest in terms of its animation sequences, and the emphasis is on graphics more than characters. In the live-action sequences, there are puppets of Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens, and Fyodor Dostoevsky who keep up kids’ attention spans by speaking in stereotypical American, English, and Russian accents, respectively. It is a time period when people were excited about atomic power, and the special is peppered with generic 50s space-age sci-fi sound effects.

The Snow Queen (1957) – USSR: Soyuzmultfilm

“The Snow Queen” (Shezhnaya koroleva) is one of the better-known Soviet animated films to the United States, having been dubbed no less than three times here. The adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen tale has the intrepid girl Gerda trying to rescue her sweetheart Kai from the Snow Queen – who has easily the most striking character design because apparently villains are cool like that. Angel, the robber girl with a heart of gold, has some interesting interaction with Gerda as well. The 1950s dub featured the voices of Sandra Dee, Tommy Kirk and Patty McCormack and it wasn’t the last one. One of the English dubs out there by Cascadia Entertainment is awesomely bad. The characters’ names are changed for some reason, there is 80s pop music thrown in, and then there are the crows… I thought that thing stopped with “Dumbo” in the 1940s, but the 1980s dub actually gives them lines like “Make these feathapluckas stop!”

Unchained Goddess (1958) – USA: Bell Laboratory Science Series

Meteora, the red-haired personification of weather in a little black dress, is probably the closest thing 1950s animation had to Jessica Rabbit. Although here the cartoons don’t interact directly with the live action characters – they cut back and forth between the animation screen and the live-action Dr. Research and The Writer. Like the three science specials before, it is interesting to look at what they knew or didn’t know before. Doctor Research brings up the issue of global warming and the idea that humans may be unwittingly causing it.

Panda and the Magic Serpent (1958) – Japan: Toei

“Hakujaden,” known in the U.S. as “Panda and the Magic Serpent,” is the first color animated feature from Japan. A Chinese fairy tale was chosen for the story, reportedly to help mend relations following World War II. A beautiful, detailed art style defines this film although though the print available in dollar bins shows its age. The story concerns two lovers: the normal guy Xu-Xian and Bai-Niang, a princess who is really a supernatural white snake taking human form. With the help of some cute sidekicks, they struggle to stay together despite the efforts of the antagonist Fa-Hai who is convinced that the princess is evil. Bai-Niang’s character design emphasizes her striking eyes, and she makes a powerful and determined heroine.

Sleeping Beauty (1959) – USA: Walt Disney

Visually, this is one of the best Disney films out there, and my personal favorite in terms of its art style. The first few minutes of establishing shots on the way to the palace are jaw-droppingly gorgeous. “Sleeping Beauty” is the quintessential fantasy animated film and set the bar for future sword-and-sorcery cartoons. Yes, Disney had other fairy tales before then, but this one has the whole medieval aesthetic, the dragon fight, and a prince who does more than sit around being blandly charming. Prince Philip teams up with the faeries to have some impressive fight scenes against “all the powers of hell.” Poor Princess Aurora spends a good chunk of the movie being knocked out, obviously, but she has some emotionally intense moments when she is around. Their dads, the two kings, have some funny scenes including their own drinking song. I’ve said it before, but kids’ movies aren’t what they used to be.

Up next: Xerox changed the look and feel of animation in the 1960s, a decade which also saw more feature-length television specials and even theatrical releases based on TV cartoons. More features were produced in Japan, and Disney saw some cinematic competition in the West.

Photo credits

http://cartoonmodern.blogsome.com/

http://1957timecapsule.wordpress.com

http://the-haunted-closet.blogspot.com/2009/04/most-adorable-edgar-allan-poe-ever.html

http://periodicalcuriosity.blogspot.com/2009/08/russian-cartoons-1935-1966.html

http://projects.mindtel.com/Alan1/HistViz/_index.html

http://www.animeviews.com/selectentry3.php?ID=8

http://www.highdefdiscnews.com/?p=6284

Animated Films: 1950 to 1955

by Rachelle Klemme

The golden age of animation for hand-drawn feature-length films was at its zenith at this time period: World War II was over for several years, along with the budget cuts and propaganda films that went with it, so studios could focus on storytelling once again. At the same time, even though dark age limited animation cartoons were starting to make their way into television, they hadn’t impacted feature films yet. These were the 1950s all the way, and gender roles and character qualities then that were considered admirable or at least likeable in a protagonist fall short of modern standards. It’s quite telling that pop psych labels like “Cinderella complex” and “Peter Pan syndrome” are named after characters popularized during this time period.

Cinderella (1950) – USA: Walt Disney

This film is a prime example of how the Disney studio itself went from rags to riches in terms of the art quality: After several package films of recycled animation budgeted during the war years, the studio was solidly in an era of prosperity again. The ornate art style is noticeably better than the late 1940s films: ornate, vaguely set in Spain with high castles and steep staircases. Living vicariously through the talking mice and birds, Cinderella doesn’t stand up for herself the way a more modern Disney princess would, but at least she has little moments of snarky resistance: “Maybe I should interrupt the… music lesson.” Bland Prince Charming has colorful relatives – his father trashes the room like a rock star – and he may have had a different life off-screen once upon a time: “It’s high time he married and settled down,” another character says. Aside from unironically naming her cat Lucifer, Lady Tremaine is one of the less flashy Disney villains. But she is the chillingly realistic, psychologically abusive sort the likes of which we aren’t going to see again until about 1996.

Alice in Wonderland (1951) – USA: Walt Disney

Alice had shown up in earlier Disney shorts, but it took until 1951 until the feature-length film based on Lewis Carroll’s stories was ready to show to the world. Supposedly “Alice in Wonderland” went underappreciated until the late 1960s when the whole psychedelic aesthetic, especially the hookah caterpillar scene, was cool. The story is more episodic than other features – Alice goes from sequence to sequence with characters and subplots having little to do with each other, with the common thread that she is following the white rabbit and the characters she meets are often randomly hostile toward her for no particular reason. If the Cheshire Cat sounds familiar, he is – Sterling Holloway is also the voice of many other Disney characters including Winnie the Pooh. The Queen of Hearts is another interesting villain: pretty much what Lady Tremaine would be if she was the ruler of an anything goes dream world where she could actually get away with all those flamboyant temper tantrums.

The Curious Adventures of Mr. Wonderbird (1952) – France: Les Gémeaux

Before steam punk was cool, “The Curious Adventures of Mr. Wonderbird” or “Le Roi et l’oiseau” combined medieval monarchy and stately architecture with sophisticated machinery. This film directed by Paul Grimault took decades to finish, but the short 1952 version has been dubbed in English and consigned to dollar store bins – despite its status as a must see for animation students and an influence on Japan’s Studio Ghibli. Quite loosely based on a story by Hans Christian Andersen, the plot has two paintings come to life – a shepherdess and a chimney sweep – in love but on the lam from a creepy image-obsessed king who wants to force the girl to marry him. Romanesque pillars and high-rise elevators are the landscape they have to escape, and there’s even a giant robot, a literal underground hipster and a news broadcast to this more or less medieval fairy tale. The giant bird provides enough slapstick for this highly symbolic head scratcher to pass as a kids’ cartoon, but the creepy king, the painting of the creepy king and all the statues of the creepy king are what visually steal the show.

The Scarlet Flower (1952) – USSR: Soyulzmultfilm

“The Scarlet Flower” is immediately based on a story by Sergey Aksakov, but American audiences would quickly recognize “Beauty and the Beast.” Compared to the 1991 Disney movie, this 1952 feature is a much closer adaptation of the original story – both the general folk tale and the specific Russian version. There are three sisters and an old screenwriting cliché lets you know who the kind protagonist Nastenka (Beauty) is: one sister kicks the cat, one sister laughs while the cat is being kicked, and Nastenka pets the cat. The characters are rotoscoped as part of the socialist realism of USSR cartoons, a movement away from perceived decadence in art, but that didn’t stop the studio producing a movie with an overall gorgeous art style, detailed architecture with Eastern Orthodox churches and other buildings, and interesting lighting techniques with the enchanted beast’s home. The beast is barely shown and portrayed through voiceover.

Peter Pan (1953) – USA: Walt Disney

When you’re a kid watching old Disney movies, a lot of stuff flies over your head… like the blatant Oedipal overtones of Peter and the other lost boys’ relationship with Wendy – which, to be fair, is in the original J.M. Barrie story. And then there were the offensive lyrics from the racist portrayal of Native Americans. But from what I remember growing up, the pirates led by campy Captain Hook were the main draw for kids. I think by the aughts point Disney had caught on to this and got around to making the blockbuster trilogy around a pirate theme, successfully parting those same 90s kids – who had become high school and college kids by then – from their money. Tinkerbell also steals the show as a comic relief and 1950s ideal of beauty that is starting to return (if only nostalgically) with curvy characters like Joan on “Mad Men.”

Animal Farm (1954) – United Kingdom: Halas and Batchelor

The above films could be about the prosperity side of the 1950s: rags to riches princess stories, chase scenes through fascinating modern architecture and upper middle class kids getting adventures out of their system before they can be content with the sensible world of adults. But “Animal Farm,” the first hand drawn animation from the United Kingdom, brings up the Cold War elephant in the room. John Halas and Joy Batchelor were also behind a stop-motion feature film, “Handling Ships,” for World War II. Rather than being based on older source material like the other 1950s cartoons, “Animal Farm” was based on the relatively recent (1946) book like George Orwell. References to communist regimes were obvious enough with the pigs having large poster portraits of themselves and the red décor. The art style is dark, gritty and piercing – an aesthetic that would dominate around the 1970s.

Lady and the Tramp (1955) – USA: Walt Disney

The first of the post-1940s Disney movies to be set in the United States, “Lady and the Tramp” opens in what looks like a Norman Rockwell painting of New England in 1909. The art style is very detailed, down to the carpet and tiles of Darling and Jim Dear’s home – which feels like déjà vu because a lot of houses in the Midwest were built during this time period give or take a hundred years ago. Consistent with the Disney style, the dogs and puppies have a cuter and softer look than the “Animal Farm” characters. The Siamese cats make for another one of the depressingly racist sequences that plagued some of the earlier animated films. Peggy Lee’s song sequences are particularly memorable, and some of the themes and implications are more mature than one would expect in a childrens’ movie. Of course, this was still the Golden Age when movies intended for “general audiences” meant exactly that – more analogous to today’s “safe for work” label than something exclusively for young kids.

Up next: More of the 1950s – early anime, early TV specials, and not all dubs are created equal…

Image Sources:

http://www.collegefashion.net/inspiration/fashion-inspiration-walt-disneys-cinderella/

http://www.matttrailer.com/alice_in_wonderland_1951

http://moncabinetdecuriosites.tumblr.com/post/3813184617/la-bergere-et-le-ramoneur-the-shepherdess-and-the

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/the-scarlet-flower

http://www.listal.com/list/50-great-animated-movies

http://ludumu.blogspot.com/2011/01/animal-farm-1954.html

http://wearecinemaniax.wordpress.com/2010/09/22/100-years-of-movies-in-100-days-day-46-lady-and-the-tramp-1955/

Animated Films: 1942 to 1949

by Rachelle Klemme

Starting in 1942 – with the earlier exception of Princess Iron Fan in the first article in this series – World War II and the beginning of the Cold War started having a direct impact on animation storytelling and budgets. Keep in mind that traditional animated feature films can take years to complete, so references to the contemporary culture and history are often long in the making – this will be especially true later on in the 60s and 70s. This second post in a series of traditional, feature-length animated films – easily available in the United States – continues through the mid- to late 1940s.

Saludos Amigos (1942) – USA: Walt Disney

World War II was on, and as countries around the globe were taking sides, the United States wanted the goodwill of Latin America. This Disney film – a mix of live action documentary and animated sequences – was actually commissioned by the government as part of the Good Neighbor Policy. Premiering in Rio de Janeiro in 1942, it did not receive a U.S. theatrical release until 1943. Lake Titicaca has Donald Duck as a bumbling American tourist at Lake Titicaca. Pedro tells the story of a Chilean airplane – a mascot that apparently did not fly well. El Gaucho Goofy is another fish-out-of-the-water story, this time set in Argentina. The Brazil segment is easily the best – introducing Jose Carioca who remains a popular character, and featuring Ary Barroso’s 1939 song “Aquarela do Brasil” over animated watercolors.

Victory Through Air Power (1943) – USA: Walt Disney

Disney’s next animated feature was an overt war propaganda film, again with a combination of documentary sequences and animated sequences. Based on the 1942 book by Alexander de Seversky, it is exactly what the title sounds like: arguing that aviation was the key to the Allies winning World War II. This is Disney, so there are some slapstick sequences, but the animated illustrations are much darker and more foreboding than the usual fare. Re-releases have been branded as part of Disney history – not marketed to children like the rest of the old cartoons. The last few minutes of bombing scenes are particularly jarring, and there’s even a Disney villain fight – the eagle vs. the octopus. Of note, Japan had its own war propaganda film that same year – Geijutsu Eigasha’s 37-minute film Momotaro no Umiwashi (Momotaro’s Sea Eagles), followed by a sequel and the country’s first feature-length animation in 1945, Momotaro: Umi no Shinpei (Momotaro’s Divine Sea Warriors.).

The Three Caballeros (1944) – USA: Walt Disney

Long before the infamous direct-to-video cartoons of the last 15 or so years, this was the first Disney sequel. More or less. Not that either of the two really have a plot. The Three Caballeros again combines live action and animation, this time bringing on celebrities like Aurora Miranda, Dora Luz and Carmen Molina. The emphasis on glamour and city lights doubtless appealed to audiences wanting an escape from the wearying reality of wartime. Donald is reunited with Jose Carioca, and the new character Panchito Pistoles – providing a bit of continuity to the individual segments. The Cold-Blooded Penguin and The Flying Gauchito have the look and feel of typical Disney shorts, and Bahia features another beautiful Ary Barroso composition. Donald learns about Mexican traditions in the next few sequences, but his obsession with the local women takes a surreal turn and the last couple of songs make a very trippy combination of live action and animation.

The Lost Letter (1945) – USSR: Soyuzmultfilm

Written and airected by the Brumberg sisters Valentina and Zinaida, with Zinoviy Kalik and Lamis Bredis, and based on a short story by Nikolai Gogol, The Lost Letter was one of the early films to come out of the Soviet Union’s government-supported traditional animation studio – and the first hand-drawn animation from the U.S.S.R. The protagonist is on his way to deliver a letter to the Tsarina, and the movie at first starts with realistic scenes of farm and village life and references to ethnic squabbles. But after a conversation about selling one’s soul to the devil and a little too much alcohol, the witches and demons and trees with scary faces start to appear. Even so, this film has a generally grittier, more realistic, more mature tone than the animated features on the other side of the Atlantic.

Make Mine Music (1946) – USA: Walt Disney

Resources were low during World War II and its immediate aftermath, so Disney went for several years without producing a regular feature film. Make Mine Music, a somewhat less highbrow Fantasia, was a compilation of shorts – and definitely not the last during the 1940s. Cut from the DVD version was The Martins and the Coys. With gleeful guns, redneck stereotypes and domestic violence, it was apparently deemed to be family-unfriendly in at least three different ways. Not to mention Grandpa was “full of Mountain Dew,” which did not mean a soft drink at the time…! More refined is Blue Bayou, a love story of two snowy egrets cut from Fantasia. Without You: A Ballad in Blue is another melancholy love song with scenes of nature, and Two Silhouettes is exactly what it sounds like: ballet dancers in romantic imagery. Johnny Fedora and Alice Blue Bonnet is about two hats in love. The Whale Who Wanted To Sing At the Met has a rather un-Disney-like ending. Not all is wistful and melancholy, though. After You’ve Gone is a jazz piece with anthropomorphic instruments, Casey At the Bat is an all-American baseball story, and All the Cats Join In is full of post-war swing anticipating 1950s pop culture with teens going to the malt shop. Peter and the Wolf, based on the story by the Russian composer Sergei Prokofeiv, is probably the most familiar to kids who grew up in the 80s and 90s.

Fun and Fancy Tree (1947) – USA: Walt Disney

The title here was supposedly a jab at “Fantasia,” as this film again emphasized pop music instead of classical. “Fun and Fancy Free” also features the return of Jiminy Cricket as a narrator, as well as Cleo and a grumpy old cat (grown up Figaro???). The first of two stories, “Bongo,” seems to combine elements of “Dumbo” and “Bambi” in a story about the trapped circus bear who learns to tough it out in nature and fight for his girl. The second and more familiar story “Mickey and the Beanstalk” has Mickey, Donald and Goofy as the main characters – at this point, the studio is obviously very aware of its branding. Meanwhile, the puppets from the live action party listening in keep interrupting – well before there was “Mystery Science Theater 3000.” Both stories have some blatantly recycled animation sequences – again, this is a point where Disney was working on a lower budget.

The Humpbacked Horse (1947) – USSR: Soyuzmultfilm

Konyok-Gorbunok, translated into English as The Humpbacked Horse, The Hunch Back Horse, or The Magic Horse, is another one of the earliest features to come out of the USSR – and one of the most well known to this side of the Atlantic. The plot, based on the poem by Pyotr Pavlovich Yershov, concerns a young boy Ivan who becomes the master of a little magic horse and draws the jealousy of a villain green with envy, then has to compete against a white-haired king trying to make a 15-year-old marry him – which must have been creepy even for 1947. The art style is gorgeous, along with the Russian architecture and design – and one can see where this country’s animation continued to develop its own distinct look apart from Western animation and East Asian animation. The director Ivan Ivanov-Vano worked on many more films, even remaking The Humpbacked Horse in the mid-1970s with virtually the same story but even more tripped-out designs to fit with the hippie era. There are other subtle differences – for example, the 1947 princess has pie-shaped eyes like old school Mickey Mouse and Betty Boop, while the 1975 version resembles the Hanna-Barbera look.

Melody Time (1948) – USA: Walt Disney

Another anthology of shorts set to pop music, Melody Time was another one of the relatively low-budget Disney films of the 1940s. Once Upon a Wintertime is a sentimental parallel between a human couple and a rabbit couple with ice skating, with performance by Frances Langford. Bumble Boogie has a bee flying for his life in a surreal world of musical instruments with music by Freddy Martin. The Legend of Johnny Appleseed is one of the longer and more well-known of the shorts, as a Disneyfied bio of Johnny Appleseed with visuals inspired by folk art style. It of course has the popular table prayer. Little Toot, based on a 1939 children’s story by Hardie Gramatky and featuring vocals by the Andrews Sisters, is about a naughty baby tugboat who redeems himself at the end. Trees, with some recycled animation from Bambi, goes through the seasons with Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians performing the Alfred Joyce Kilmer poem. Donald Duck, Jose Carioca and the Aruacan Bird return in Blame It On the Samba, with performance by Ethel Smith and the Dinning Sisters and an English translation of Apanhei-te Cavaquinho Ernesto Nazareth. Pecos Bill was apparently the Chuck Norris of the 1940s, with Roy Rogers in a live action sequence. Much is made of the original smoking scenes in a children’s cartoon, but that has nothing on the racist story of the painted desert. Apparently Disney likes this character, as he was the protagonist in 1995’s Tall Tale.

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949) – USA: Walt Disney

This was the last in a long string of “package films” with a budget affected by World War II and its aftermath. This was a VERY different time period when getting involved in a war meant everybody, even the animation studios, pitching in and making sacrifices and paying off the war effort within a few years – instead of sticking it to the next generation and throwing a hissy fit at the suggestion of a mild tax increase for the people most able to handle it…

Speaking of living beyond one’s means, The Wind in the Willows with its indebted amphibian hero made me nostalgic for The Great Mouse Detective. Its influence can be seen in much of the anthropomorphic animals genre… and in a lot of the other film adaptations of the Kenneth Grahame book. According to a 2008 Rotten Tomatoes article, Guillermo del Toro WAS going to do an adaptation of the story several years back – until executives asked him to give Toad a skateboard and make him say “radical dude things.” Yeah…

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is probably the better known between the two segments. (It helped, I suppose, that Johnny Depp was in the 1999 Tim Burton film based on the same story by Washington Irving.) Maybe having a 1940s pop soundtrack in a colonial setting was pushing that time period’s equivalent of skateboards and “radical dude things,” but still, there’s a surprising subtlety about how this story is told – stuff that would probably fly over most kids’ heads. Ichabod is far, far from the good Disney prince for Katrina Van Tassel – he’s a total gold digger, actually. And Brom Bones, who is set up to be the alpha male jerk, is a relatively decent guy. The headless horseman chase scene is probably the most memorable part of the whole feature.

Up next…
The 1950s post-war boom continued the Golden Age of animation and produced some of the most well-known Disney movies – along with titles from Western Europe. It was also the age of television and school documentary filmstrips…

Image Sources:

http://photoimagegallery.blogspot.com/2011/04/saludos-amigos.html

http://antagonie.blogspot.com/2010/11/disney-sundries-film-that-won-war.html

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Animated Films: Disney, Fleischer, Wan Brothers and the Golden Age

by Rachelle Klemme

This will be an ongoing series of posts on the history of animation. I am focusing on feature-length (i.e. at least 40 minutes long) traditional hand-drawn films by release date. For the sake of brevity and comparing apples to apples, I won’t be going into stop motion animation, computer animation, shorts, or television. Compilations of original shorts (e.g. Fantasia) count as features here; compilations of already released shorts will not. Even then, there are a surprising number of hand-drawn features from all over the world. While my goal is to discuss international and lesser-known works alongside Disney and other familiar childhood nostalgia, my criteria for choosing films to review are 1) the film has to be at least subtitled in English and 2) is easily available in the United States (i.e. no eBay spending sprees and nothing that could get me into legal trouble). So sorry, Song of the South is not going to happen. With that said, here are eight animated films from the late 1930′s to the early 1940′s.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) — USA: Walt Disney

Snow White was the Avatar of its time and more: one can forgive the less than mind-blowing story for the artistry alone. It is the world’s oldest surviving hand-drawn animated film (Lotte Reninger’s 1926 stop-motion The Adventures of Prince Achmed is amazing as well), and the first animated film from the United States.
Snow White herself is such a passive protagonist and the Prince is a nicely drawn cardboard cutout, so the seven dwarves steal the show with their mannerisms and their personalities which are nothing less than… ha… animated.
What I didn’t appreciate when I saw this the first time as a little kid is that the animation set the bar high for other animated films in terms of a variety of visual styles. There are light and happy scenes; there are also brooding villains, colorful sunsets over wonderfully realistic waterfalls and dark scary showdowns.
Snow White was much more kid-friendly than its predecessors, the satirical Quirino Cristiani films of Argentina and the slightly naughty Prince Achmed. That arguably set a precedent for other animated films in the United States.

Gulliver’s Travels (1939) — USA: Fleischer Studios

Compared to Snow White, America’s first non-Disney feature animation is like a made-for-TV movie, but I mean that in the best possible way. I didn’t see this one until sometime in middle school, but by then I was already familiar with the Golden Age cartoons they used to play on Cartoon Network in the early 1990′s. (The media stereotype is true: we Millennials were darn spoiled as kids… at least in terms of access to great cartoons.)
The three “straight” characters, Gulliver and the prince and the princess, are conservatively rotoscoped while the more cartoony characters are given all the slapstick of typical 1930′s comedy cartoons. The petty feud between the two kings drives much of the plot and humor, and a pop musical sequence over the dinner table is one of the highlights.
Fleischer Studios also produced Popeye, Superman and other Golden Age cartoons, and the visual style of Gulliver’s Travels is similar to these other works.

Pinocchio (1940) — USA: Walt Disney

This seems to be one Disney movie that is liked more by critics than by kids or at least retail merchandising. There’s a quirkiness to the visual and sound design that apparently didn’t appeal to audiences on its first theatrical release. Pretty much all the puppets except Pinocchio himself live in the Uncanny Valley, even though the film is set in some whimsical version of Italy. Apparently in 1940, bad boys got in fights, smoked and drank underage, committed vandalism, and worst of all… played pool. Funny dated elements aside, The Coachman and what he does to Pinocchio’s human peers are legitimately terrifying. Complex storytelling and artwork consistently earn this one a place near the top of best animated film lists.

Fantasia (1940) — USA: Walt Disney

It is easy to criticize Disney formulas, but Fantasia is a stunning showcase of the sheer variety of visual styles the studio was capable of. The film starts out modestly with the abstract shapes in Toccata and Fugue in D Minor and then whets your appetite with dancing anthropomorphized flowers and mushrooms in an unconventional interpretation of Nutcracker Suite. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice with Mickey is the most well-known sequence, but The Rite of Spring is an especially haunting visual speculation into earth’s mysterious past with a relatively contemporary (1913) musical work. The Pastoral Symphony showcases cute characters and bright pastel designs and mythical horses long before the days of “My Little Pony,” and Dance of the Hours is a fun flighty comedy. The Night On Bald Mountain / Ave Maria scenes of infernal ghoulishness and serene religiosity are probably the most atypical Disney sequence ever created. All these are set to classical music, and it really works.

Princess Iron Fan (1941) — China: Wan Brothers

The first full-length traditional animated feature in the Eastern Hemisphere did not have the Technicolor production value of the Disney films – in fact, it is black and white – but Princess Iron Fan is a must-see for animation fans and film history buffs. Directed by Wan Guchan and Wan Laiming, the story based on the folk tale Journey To the West follows Sun Wukong the monkey, Zhu Bajie the pig, and Sha “Sandy” Wujing the man on a quest to procure an iron fan to save an endangered village. The aforementioned princess and her husband the Bull Demon King stand in their way. There is lots of magic and shapeshifting, and the Wan brothers make it happen in probably the trippiest hand-drawn animation until The Yellow Submarine. (Okay, or maybe the drunk Dumbo sequence later that year, but yeah.) The sound design is simple, but effective and often scary.
The film does retain some influences from Western animation of the Golden Age, most noticeably the bouncing ball musical sequence. On the other hand, it is distinctly Chinese and went on to influence Asian animation in years afterward.

Dumbo (1941) — USA: Walt Disney

After Snow White, Pinocchio and Fantasia, Disney’s low-budget fourth feature is a noticeable departure from the fairy tale aesthetic. The family-friendly story of the misfit baby elephant is hardly gritty and realistic either, but the story delivers a pop soundtrack and is set presumably in the present day with vague contemporary references – including the “Jim Crow” stereotypes that mostly flew over the heads of newer generations of kids. So maybe it wasn’t so family friendly after all… at least by 21st Century standards, which would have never given a G rating to a movie that not only uses racial stereotypes, but has almost as much smoking as Mad Men and a plot twist brought on by the title character having a little too much to drink. Insane psychedelic colors and singing ensue in Pink Elephants On Parade, pretty much the most memorable part of the film.

Hoppity Goes To Town (1941) — USA: Fleischer Studios

The second Fleischer Studios feature, which also goes by Bugville and Mr. Bug Goes To Town, has a markedly contemporary sensibility – even more so than Dumbo. Created as the United States was recovering from the Great Depression and released before it entered World War II (around the time of the Pearl Harbor attack actually), it even has a subplot involving a house in foreclosure – an irony not lost on the few people who have seen it nowadays.
The plot is Capracorn with insects. The titular fresh-faced protagonist is the happy grasshopper trying to cheer up the town, but his naivety gets him in trouble too. Oh, and the greedy villain wants to marry Hoppity’s girlfriend.
There is a certain charm to the story and the art style has its merits, particularly with the rotoscoping and realistic city scenes which distinguish it from other films of its era. Unfortunately, the lesser known of this studio’s only two feature animations did not do well enough for them to produce a third.

Bambi (1942) — USA: Walt Disney

Growing up in outstate Minnesota, I remember when even human children were not allowed to play in the meadow during “deer opener”. The plot, characters and tone of Bambi are as volatile as Minnesota seasons in general: there are the pastel childhood scenes with Thumper and Flower that show how much the movie is watered down from the original Felix Salten book, but then there’s the Man theme which gives the later Jaws score a run for its money and other genuine horror elements in the hunting scenes. While the setting is realistic for a Disney story, the art style itself brings a kind of whimsy to the transforming of the seasons. Definitely another one of this studio’s best.

Stay tuned…
for the mid- to late-40′s: low budgets and direct references to World War II, and new animation from across the Iron Curtain…

Image sources:

http://www.listal.com/viewimage/950772

http://www.oregonlive.com/movies/index.ssf/2010/07/beyond_the_multiplex_july_16-2.html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/4839418/Dickie-Jones-the-boy-who-gave-Pinocchio-his-voice-and-his-nose.html

http://www.awn.com/articles/reviews/brief-history-animated-horse/page/2,1

http://www.animationarchive.org/2006_09_01_archive.html

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm423598080/tt0033563

http://metropolis.co.jp/movies/movie-reviews/mr-bug-goes-to-town/

http://www.animatedheroes.com/bambi.html

Mad Monster Party

by Rachelle Klemme

“There was nothing but a huge pile of leftovers in the dining room.”
“Oh, I wonder who it was.”

Before Tim Burton’s charmingly misunderstood misfits, there was this little 1967 cult classic. “Mad Monster Party” was produced by Rankin-Bass, which is better known for the Rudolph and Santa Christmas specials that still air on TV. While it doesn’t get as much love as some of the studio’s other animations, the DVD can sometimes show up in department store bins for Halloween specials.

The earthy stop-motion animation technique is just quirky enough to be believably about a world of monsters, and in contrast to the bright Rudolph specials, its dark palate and setting in the “Isle of Evil” pays homage to horror movie tropes. All in all, though, it is a movie for kids – not in the sense that the scares are tame, but in the sense that it is not intended to be scary at all. Dr. Jekyl/Mr. Hyde, Dracula, Werewolf, The Invisible Man, and other horror film stars are presented as just a bunch of misfits on their way to a convention. They may scare normal bystanders, but not the nerdy naïve protagonist and audience stand-in, Felix.

Boris Karloff voices Baron Von Frankenstein, the weary boss of Monsters, Inc. (which is hilarious in hindsight) who is tired of doing bad for others and getting very little bad in return. He plans to invite the other monsters to a party to announce his nephew Felix Flanken (Allen Swift) as his heir, while his fembot secretary Francesca (Gale Garnett) has plans of her own. Oh, and there is a love subplot between the latter two, which is technically a spoiler ¬– but in a cartoon where there is only one normal-looking guy and only one female character who is under 40, is this really a surprise? And for what it’s worth, at least one blogger has noticed Francesca’s possible influence on another, much more retrospective 60s secretary:

I make it sound like this movie actually has a plot, but most of it the script – penned by Harvey Kurtzman of “Mad Magazine” along with other writers – is a series of sketches and monster jokes, some more clever than others, others overly long and obvious and reminding us that this was, in the end, a film made for a much younger target audience than film critics. The lighthearted Halloween humor is what the movie is really about. In fact, Felix is apparently asleep during the actual “party” sequence in the middle of the movie.

With thinly veiled references to fears of nuclear war, plots with the cocktail party set, the flirty retro-glamorous opening song, and the cynical femme fatale whom the hero charms to the good side, “Mad Monster Party” draws some inspiration from the James Bond movies and sixties spy films in general.

In fact, part of the film’s charm is that it is very much a part of its time. Campy elements include an almost literal catfight, the onomatopoeia captions, the belief that women actually suffered from “hysteria” (not necessarily in that order!), and the hilarious last two seconds of the film.

A skeleton band with matching wigs hints at Beatlemania, and the entire soundtrack is sure to please retro fans. Among the musical numbers, there are two really memorable songs: the opening “Mad Monster Party Theme” sung by Ethel Ennis, and the “Never Was a Love Like Mine” sung by Gale Garnett.

In sum, “Mad Monster Party” is the cinematic equivalent of candy corn, root beer barrels, and black licorice. You either hate it because it’s not Snickers or Skittles or Reeses, or you love it because it is so retro, so organic (okay I’m being metaphorical here), and so bad and good at the same time.

Sources:

http://horrorstew.com

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mad_Monster_Party

http://www.horrorstew.com/Mad-Monster-Party.html

http://theblackapple.typepad.com/inside_a_black_apple/2009/10/costumery-decisions.html

http://what-is-the-news-today.blogspot.com/2009/01/mad-monster-party.html

http://www.cinedelica.com/2010/01/coming-to-dvd-mad-monster-party-1967.html

Animation’s Dark Horse of Light

by Rachelle Klemme

Most Oscar races see only one or two really great contenders for Best Animated Feature in a typical year. 2009 was not a typical year: Pixar and Studio Ghibli continued their strong track records, Disney returned to its signature style, Sony Pictures Animation cranked out an above-average crowd-pleaser, and auteurs like Henry Selick, Tim Burton, and Wes Anderson added to the mix with sophisticated fare. Unlike other Oscar categories, Animation usually boasts titles that mainstream audiences have actually seen.

The Academy nominations arrived with a predictably well-rounded selection: the Obvious Pixar One (Up), the Traditional Pretty One (The Princess and the Frog), the Whimsically Creepy One (Coraline), and the Contemporary Comedy With Funny Animals (Fantastic Mr. Fox – in a far above average take on that genre). But then there was the fifth one that didn’t fit into any of the usual niches. In the tradition of The Triplets of Belleville, Persepolis, and Waltz with Bashir, it’s the That Really Arty Limited Release Dark Horse Indie From the Eastern Hemisphere.

The working title trailer – as well as the first few minutes of the film itself – is deceptively simple. The flat art style seemed interesting enough, but not quite the caliber to beat Ponyo: sort of Star Wars: Clone Wars meets Samurai Jack. The independent Irish studio, Cartoon Saloon, only has one prior credit in the children’s TV series Skunk Fu. Yet The Secret of Kells pulled off the nomination with very little publicity, Oscar campaigns, or long Hollywood connections.

The film does not open in the United States until March 13 – shortly before St. Patrick’s Day, of course. Until then, it is playing in limited release and select festivals. I got the opportunity to see it at the Fargo Film Festival where it premiered regionally on March 3 and screened again over the weekend. The secret to this film’s success is not such a secret after one gets a look.

Director Tomm Moore names influences like Richard Williams and Hayao Miyazaki in an interview on the Oscar website, and the film was supported by the producers behind The Triplets of Belleville. Like its inspirations, this work takes the audience to new places where only traditional animation can go.

The aforementioned modest first few minutes of the film introduce Brendan (voiced by Evan McGuire), a 12-year-old novice whose no-nonsense uncle, Cellach (Brendan Gleeson) protects him and frets about the adventurous kid’s apparent lack of responsibility. Despite his position as the Abbot, Cellach is unconcerned with monastic spirituality as he is preoccupied with building the wall he is sure will protect the village from the imminent arrival of the Viking raiders. The conflict intensifies as a refugee illuminator monk Aidan (Mick Lally) arrives with the not-quite-finished Book of Iona, sees talent in Brendan, and enlists his help to the consternation of the strictly practical Cellach.

From there, the story zigzags rather than strictly follows the Hero’s Journey. In order to find supplies to complete the book, Brendan ventures into the forest with the tag-along feline Pangur Ban. The latter, thankfully, doesn’t come packaged with wisecracks and butt jokes. He is allowed to just be a cat, which is entertaining enough by itself. The trio is complete when Brendan is attacked by wolves and saved by the elegant forest sprite Aisling (Christen Mooney), who does that thing like Avatar and all those other movies where she tells the guy to stay out of her perilous green territory but doesn’t keep that resolve for long.

It would be hard to go into the story further without spoiling it. I would say it is something like The Sword In the Stone meets a G-rated The Book of Eli, but there is much more originality to it: a little twist on the girl-locked-in-the-tower sequence, a head-tripping fight sequence that had me nostalgic for this early 90s computer game called Rattler Race, a winning musical score to please fans of all things Celtic, and plenty of jarring visuals.

The fact that the actual Book of Kells is an illuminated manuscript of the Bible is never brought up in the film. Familiarizing oneself with this work helps to understand the context – the taut 75 minute runtime allows for very little exposition – and appreciate the secret which is kept hidden from the viewer. While the religious aspect is never explicit, the power of the book is obvious as the monks struggle to protect it from marauders. And iconography gets a hat tip from the animation itself: the aforementioned flat style in general, characters with large eyes and disproportionate figures, trees shaped like cathedral arches, devil-horned Vikings surrounded in red like scenes from hell, and strobes of light around abstract shapes.

In the end (not a spoiler; you see it coming all along) the story is about the power of art. It may sound trite and derivative, but this theme never wears itself out – at least not to its core audience. Textually, the actual Book of Kells is a translation of already existing works – but again, never gets tiring for those who believe in the Gospel accounts. Visually, the movie — like the intricate illuminative art it draws from — is so stunning and unprecedented that it inevitably brings a new perspective to an old, old story.

IMAGE SOURCES:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/ac/The_Secret_Of_Kells_Promo_Poster.jpg

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm663064320/tt0485601

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm629509888/tt0485601

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm562401024/tt0485601

“Princess” is Good News for Traditional Animation

by Rachelle Klemme

4/5 stars

All us nineties kids were spoiled, spoiled, spoiled, and we didn’t even know it; at least as far as cartoons were concerned. Starting with The Little Mermaid in 1989, Disney initiated a second golden age of hand-drawn animation, which ended as studios redirected their efforts into the bells and whistles of CGI in this past decade. But I was four years old and as far as I knew, this golden age was our birthright.

I blame Dreamworks’ Shrek. Don’t get me wrong; I loved it and laughed until I cried at the bird singing scene and still consider it one of the best animated films of the Aughts. But then the film’s deconstruction of classic fairy tales mixed with pop culture cues seemed to become the rule for non-Pixar animated films afterward – which kind of defeats the whole purpose of postmodernism. Fairy tales taking themselves seriously fell out of favor, taking hand-drawn animation with them.

The Princess and the Frog goes back to the fairy tale tradition, as a 1920s New Orleans waitress, Tiana, finds herself living a childhood story she never took seriously. Tiana could care less about finding a prince, as she is set on working hard to make a down payment to start the upscale restaurant of her and her late father’s dreams. Unlike other Disney princesses, she never had time to dance or talk with wisecracking animal sidekicks. But when a talking frog prince startles her, her life is turned upside down.

Visually, this film is one of the most exciting cinematic events of 2009. Whether it is dealing with realistically drawn, warm family scenes or abstract art-deco song sequences, Ron Clements and John Musker’s brainchild is a reminder that some kinds of stories can only be done through traditional animation.

Socially, The Princess and the Frog was hyped as being the introduction of the first African-American Disney princess. This flaw in marketing – playing up the ethnicity of the character above all the other story elements – was condescending and encouraged false expectations. The backlash started well before the film’s release: If Disney was going to make a film centered on a black princess, wouldn’t an actual African fairy tale be a better premise than a storyline which was originally going to be Cinderella recycled in the Jazz Age? Why is Tiana a waitress instead of a real princess? Why is the prince not black? Why do they spend most of the movie as frogs?

If one views the film from the lens of the story itself, however, it works. Like Belle, Cinderella, Mulan, and other predecessors, Tiana (Anika Noni Rose) has to start as a normal girl before she gets to achieve her glamorous dreams. Prince Naveen (Bruno Campos) is initially a player and would be an offensive stereotype as any real ethnicity, hence his made-up origin of Maldonia. And without the amphibian couple’s drive to become human again, there would be no plot. From this plot, Tiana shines as one of Disney’s strongest heroines. Early critics speculated the implications of a black princess being rescued by a non-black prince. It is a moot point, because for the most part, the princess rescues the prince.

Naveen spends the early part of the movie as a naïve gold digger who is tricked too easily by the villain Dr. Facilier (Keith David). But thanks to a lovely little thing called character development, Naveen earns the respect of the audience and becomes a believable partner and fun-loving complement to Tiana. Facilier himself has a weak entrance into the story, but establishes himself as a worthy antagonist who presents the illusion of having power while actually being under its control.

In the last three decades or so, as mainstream filmmakers have warmed up to the idea of having black characters in major roles as long as the actual protagonist was still white, the “black best friend” has become a cliché. You’d have the dashing, serious, somewhat uptight Caucasian hero and the exaggeratedly street-smart African-American sidekick to lighten things up. The Princess and the Frog inverts this stereotype. We see a black woman in the role of the straight hero and role model, and a white woman as the comic relief. Tiana’s friend, Charlotte LaBouff, absolutely breaks the mold. She desperately wants to be a traditional princess, but there is a freedom, energy, and lightheartedness to her movement that you never saw with her staid blonde predecessors.

Being a Disney film, of course, animal sidekicks round out the cast. Ray the firefly (Jim Cummings) provides one-liners to be appreciated by five-year-olds, and Louis the alligator (Michael Leon-Wooley) seems to be a throwback to a similar musical character in All Dogs Go to Heaven, another New Orleans-centered movie by former Disney animator Don Bluth.

The film has its share of flaws. Tiana and Naveen’s romance seems forced at times – they fall in love literally overnight because they are the main characters and, after the obligatory bantering, they have to get together. Moreover, taking what is essentially generic Disney magic and calling it “voodoo” detracted from an otherwise believable premise. Finally, its greatest strength – being a return to Disney tradition – is also its weakness in the sense that it is not going to be that revolutionary film like Toy Story that you will find in media textbooks.

In coming up with their first hand-drawn feature since 2004 – and their first official princess since 1998 – Disney had to combine the idealistic 80s and 90s elements with the skepticism and self-awareness of the past decade. The Princess and the Frog does this well. References to other Disney movies pop up throughout the film, but they are subtle and by no means overwhelm the story itself. The characters debate whether the wishing star has any relevance, and the story as a whole has a bittersweet edge to it. The kids who grew up with Ariel, Belle, Pocahontas, and other ‘90s princesses are entering adulthood and a dismal job market with Tiana. The short confrontation scene with the gray suits who threaten to crush Tiana’s dream, intentional or not, plays out as a well-timed smack at corporate greed. And one can’t think of New Orleans without being reminded of Hurricane Katrina.

Ultimately, of course, this is a Disney movie with a Capra-esque ending (no spoilers here – you saw it coming) and cynics need not apply. The film deconstructs its own mythos, only to reconstruct it. The iconic cross-shaped star is even given a name, Evangeline, which means “Good News” in Greek. On the whole, this movie is “good news” for those who have waited for the return of traditional animation.

Photo sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Frog_official_poster_500.jpg

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm2545913344/tt0780521

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1547800064/tt0780521

http://www.imdb.com/media/rm3751184384/tt0780521