Disney and Don Bluth: An Alternate History

Don Bluth’s departure from Disney in September of 1979 was certainly a devastating blow to the troubled animation studio. Upon arrival, he was instrumental in shaping The Rescuers, which went from potential disaster to Disney’s biggest hit and the highest grossing animated film on initial release at the time. Don Bluth wanted to bring back the classic storytelling to Disney animation, something that was not on display in The Aristocats and Robin Hood, which were cheap, often lazy films that kept the animation studio alive.

Bluth stormed out of the studio during production of The Fox and the Hound, which wouldn’t garner the praise that The Rescuers got but was a box office success. More animators were brought on board after Bluth left with fourteen other animators, and they were put to work on safer projects such as Mickey's Christmas Carol before moving onto the ambitious debacle that would be The Black Cauldron.

Now what if Don Bluth never left? What if he was able to fight the management and bring Disney animation back to the glory days? Perhaps the Second Golden Age would’ve started with The Rescuers and flourished from there...

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The autumn of 1977...

The Rescuers was a massive hit at the box office over the summer and got the best reviews for a Disney animated film since One Hundred and One Dalmatians. It is a triumphant success, one that even outgrosses Star Wars in some European markets. It has a better storyline, better writing, and better animation that what was seen in the previous two films. (Not counting The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, released earlier that year.)

The conservative management at Disney sees the potential the new animators can bring to the table, as production wraps on more training vehicles like Pete's Dragon and The Small One. Production on The Fox and the Hound, an adaptation of a novel by Daniel P. Mannix, begins immediately. Next in line is an adaptation of Lloyd Alexander’s The Chronicles of Prydain series, which Disney had the rights to since 1971. Other projects such as an adaptation of Robert O’Brien’s Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH are also considered, along with an adaptation of Chanticleer, which was canned by Disney back in 1960.

Wolfgang Reitherman prepares treatment for The Fox and the Hound and presents it to the story crew and animators in early 1978. While it does have some good ideas, it is overall reminiscent of Robin Hood, with goofy Southern characters, cutesy moments and a corny disco number to be sung by Phil Harris and Charo. All of the animators, and even the management object to this. Wolfgang Reitherman retires shortly after, Don Bluth reshapes the story and keeps a few elements from Woolie’s treatment.

Coverage surrounds the production of the film, unheard of in the animation world. $12 million goes into the production, making it the highest for an animated feature film. Meanwhile, Disney searches for other talent for their live-action output. Don Bluth changes the Robin Hood-esque story into one that’s more in line with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, with occasionally dark and frightening moments for the younger set. It also has a strong message about prejudice, made more front-and-center than it was in Woolie’s version. Oddly enough, it’s no happily ever after ending, as it has a more bittersweet ending while it’s nowhere as harsh as it was in the book.

The Fox and the Hound is completed in time for its planned holiday 1980 release. The marketing plays up the darker angle of the story. Disney had ventured into the PG territory for their live action fare, though The Fox and the Hound would still get a G rating. The child-friendly marketing focused on the scenes with young Tod and Copper, while the general marketing played down the cutesy elements.

Reaching a Bigger Audience

The Fox and the Hound opens on December 12, 1980 to critical praise all across the board. It’s called “Bambi for the current generation”. Critics praise the dark and often moody story, while also admiring the animation. It also isn’t a musical, though there are some songs sung off-screen that get some acclaim. With that, Roy Disney comes to the studio and makes sure the management can hold everything together. The Fox and the Hound takes in $91 million and dents the Top 5.

Production begins on The Black Cauldron, the planned adaptation of The Chronicles of Prydain. Don Bluth, along with the new team of animators, work two books into one story while also ironing out the bugs and glitches. The film is scheduled for release in 1983. What better way to do an epic fantasy but through the power of Disney animation? The team are determined to really live up to the ambitions of Walt Disney with this film, and rival the likes of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio and Fantasia. A budget of $25 million is secured, trumping The Fox and the Hound.

Other animation studios resort to producing cheap toy commercials, though some artistic films caught on such as Twice Upon a Time and The Plague Dogs. While The Black Cauldron is well into production, Tron is released. An advancement for computer generated imagery, the animators use these new tricks for The Black Cauldron, as Don Bluth favors effects. A young John Lasseter is also highly interested, doing a test scene with Glen Keane for the potential next film at Disney: Where the Wild Things Are. With these kinds of effects, The Black Cauldron could compete with the big budget heavies for the year, mainly Return of the Jedi. The film is also done in APT, which replaces the scratchy look of Xerography, and makes for a much cleaner-looking picture with better clean-up animation work. It's a step up from The Rescuers and The Fox and the Hound, which use a softened version of Xerography that uses colored lines.

The Black Cauldron opens on July 22, 1983. It is the first Disney animated film to receive a PG rating from the MPAA for scary imagery, dark moments, some brief language and some unexpected bloody violence. This was the new Disney, more adult-oriented while still suitable enough for family audiences. The marketing is aggressive, selling it as a big fantasy epic and one to really take off at the box office, and it did. On top of unanimous praise, the film grossed $145 million domestically and over $300 million worldwide. It was the second biggest film of the year behind Return of the Jedi and the highest grossing animated film on initial release. Its final total even surpasses Snow White’s unadjusted totals plus all of its re-releases. Disney animation was heading into a new frontier, a Renaissance...

The next release is extremely successful: The Secret of NIMH opens in 1986 to great reviews and grosses over $100 million stateside and $250 million worldwide. Like The Black Cauldron, it’s a dark, effects-heavy and compelling fantasy film. It is clear by this point that Disney animation has entered a Renaissance, while other studios see that animation is a hot property. Warner Bros., Fox, MGM and Paramount all take notice. The Secret of NIMH also uses a prototype version of CAPS (Computer Animation Production System), which allows the artists to digitally ink and paint their drawings. It singlehandedly replaces APT, and now the Disney animated features can look as polished as the Golden Age features. This makes big news in the film world.

Ambition

Plans for a Black Cauldron sequel are also a go, since there are a few books left to adapt. Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, fresh off of Little Shop of Horrors, are called in to help do a musical adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, a return to the fairy tale genre and a project Walt Disney once looked into. Ron Clements and John Musker are named directors of the project. Other animators and writers are given shots to direct a feature film. CAPS makes it easier for the experienced animators to get an animated film out every 1-2 years.

It goes the way Walt Disney had always intended, before World War II put a stop to his plans. The idea of doing one animated feature a year was his dream before the financial failures of Pinocchio, Fantasia and Bambi. Since the Disney studios are alive through the live-action fare, the theme parks and the revenue of the re-releases, they are able to go through with this plan.

After The Secret of NIMH hits theaters, the animators begin full production on an original story by Don Bluth, The Land Before Time. He envisions the story as a silent, Fantasia-esque tale about prehistoric life. A year earlier, Disney joins forces with animator Richard Williams, director Robert Zemeckis and producer Steven Spielberg to bring forth Who Framed Roger Rabbit, which is to be shot in live action while the Toon Town characters are done in animation. A $50 million budget is secured and production  begins, as it is scheduled for release in 1988. The Land Before Time is also scheduled for release that year.

In early 1987, Disney releases The Secret of NIMH on home video, the first contemporary film to be released on the format as Disney had been slowly rolling out the classics: Pinocchio, Dumbo, Alice in Wonderland, Sleeping Beauty, The Sword in the Stone and Robin Hood, from 1984 to 1986. While those titles sold very well, NIMH sells an unprecedented 5 million copies on VHS, Betamax and LaserDisc. From there, Disney decides to release them on home video after the theatrical release, rather than wait and re-release it in theaters. The home video is a new world by this point.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit opens on June 24, 1988 to widespread critical acclaim. The film is even more adult-oriented than Disney's recent fare, as it really catches on with the teenage audience. It grosses $296 million stateside and $604 million worldwide. It is a watershed moment for American feature animation. In return, Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg agree to help Richard Williams finish his long-in-production animated feature, The Thief and the Cobbler. Full production begins in late 1988 for a projected 1990/1991 release, for Warner Bros. first new animated feature release. The studio also acquires a pet project by comedian Rodney Dangerfield, an R-rated animated comedy titled Rover Dangerfield.

The Land Before Time opens months later on November 18th, to yet again critical acclaim and grosses $178 million stateside and $356 million worldwide. It is also a groundbreaker, being the first animated feature done in CAPS, which Disney tested for NIMH. It gets a few Academy Award nominations here and there, drawing enthusiasm for the next batch of animated films. The home video release comes in May 1989, 8 million units are sold.

The upcoming schedule is ramped up yet again. Following the release of The Little Mermaid in fall 1989 will be The Rescuers Down Under in fall 1990, followed by Beauty and the Beast for 1991, Aladdin for 1992 and a project tentatively titled King of the Jungle for release in 1993. Other ideas are currently kicked around: A Black Cauldron sequel, Thumbelina, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a new Fantasia and a slew of smaller-budget films based on their current animated television shows such as DuckTales and Chip 'n' Dale Rescue Rangers.

Topping The Charts

Ron Clements and John Musker work with a strong story for The Little Mermaid, which is backed by Broadway-style songs by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken. A surefire cast and the current techniques also sharpen The Little Mermaid's story, though the writers did change the original fairy tale's downer ending. The Little Mermaid opens on November 17, 1989. It is surrounded with widespread critical acclaim, and it even gets nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. The film makes a grand total of $270 million domestically and $535 million worldwide. It is the next big step for Disney's feature animation division, which announces its new name, Walt Disney Animation Studios. The Little Mermaid hits home video in May 1990, 10 million units are sold, making it the second best-selling home video release of all time behind Steven Spielberg's E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.

John Lasseter sets up a computer animation division with Ed Catmull, Steve Jobs and alumni from CalArts, after experimenting with it for independent short films like Luxo Jr. and Tin Toy, and calls it Pixar. It's set up to deliver computer animated releases alongside Disney's traditional animation films. Production begins on a Tin Toy Christmas special, which is later blown up into a feature-length film.

Prior to the release of The Rescuers Down Under, which has consultants from Pixar on board, Disney theatrically re-released The Rescuers in theaters in the spring of 1988. On this re-release, it took in $40 million while also including a trailer that had early test footage of the sequel. The Rescuers is then released on home video in June 1989, and sells a whopping 7 million units. Anticipation fires up for the sequel, as the video release reminds audiences how good the film was.

The Rescuers Down Under didn't exactly repeat the success of The Little Mermaid when released on November 16, 1990, but it took in $133 million stateside and $267 million worldwide. Reviews were also good, while some critics had problems with the more action-oriented approach to the story rather than the slow, heartfelt one taken with the first film. The use of computer generated imagery and effects told the story the way the animators had seen it, and it was a blast to experience. It is also the first Disney animated feature to be exhibited in IMAX theaters.

Warner Bros. becomes to the first big competitor to the reborn Disney, just as they were the big competition to Disney during the Golden Age, with the release of Richard Williams' The Thief and the Cobbler, featuring dazzling animation all painstakingly done by hand. Critics gush over the visuals, but also criticize the often stuffed story and lack of heart. Regardless, it is a milestone for feature animation. It opens the same day as The Rescuers Down Under and puts up a good fight, grossing $102 million domestically and $244 million worldwide. Disney takes note of this and retools Aladdin to be more of an irreverent comedy. It was the first head-to-head match in the world of animation, and it receives widespread coverage all across the board.

The New Golden Age Continues...

Disney continues to deliver box office smash after box office smash. Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and The Lion King are all massive hits and are nominated for Best Picture each time out. Warner Bros. successfully competes with Disney. Paramount invests in an animation studio called DreamWorks, spearheaded by an enthusiastic Paramount executive Jeffrey Katzenberg alongside Steven Spielberg. Michael Eisner is also involved, also from Paramount. Other studios like Fox get off to a rough start, with films that are either rushed in response to Disney's or are too kid-friendly to appeal to the mass market. The animation world continues to change and change by the mid-1990s... For the better...

~

If Don Bluth were to stay with Disney during the late 1970s and early 1980s and help usher a new Golden Age, how would you think it would happen? Would your portrait of Disney with Bluth on board be optimistic? Or would it lead to more troubles with the executives. My take on this is unabashedly positive, as I do believe Bluth along with the enthusiastic young animators at Disney, were going to be able to get Disney animation back on the map and start the Renaissance long before the late 1980s.

What would your alternate history be like?

The Dark Age? (Part 3)

Part 1
Part 2

With Disney losing Don Bluth and several young animators during production of The Fox and the Hound in 1979, the studio was beginning to undergo some revisions. The live action output significantly changed. While Disney had delivered great live action films over the years like Treasure Island, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Pollyanna and several others, there were also a lot of goofball comedies that were polluting the 1970s: The Boatniks, The Million Dollar Duck, No Deposit, No Return, Gus, The Cat from Outer Space, Love Bug sequels and a whole lot more.

Fun, slapstick-riddled comedies weren’t a bad thing. They pleased family audiences, and that was it. Disney was beginning to become labeled as “kids only” fluff by teenagers and young adults. After years of harmless G-rated live action fare, Disney began venturing in to the PG territory (this was before PG-13 existed, so PG was the equivalent to what that rating is today). First they bought the rights to a small film called Take Down, which they distributed in early 1979 without the Disney name on it, but it came and went. Later that year, they released the science fiction film, The Black Hole. Since the release of that film, more and more PG-rated Disney films began appearing: Midnight Madness, The Watcher in the Woods, The Devil and Max Devlin, Condorman and Night Crossing. So what impact did a couple film that got a certain rating have on the animation studio? Well, the next animated feature, which would be The Black Cauldron, would be the first Disney animated feature to garner a PG rating. Disney owned the rights to Lloyd Alexander’s The Chronicles of Prydain as far back as 1971, as development on a feature film based on the five-book series began shortly afterwards. Over the course of the mid 1970s, it didn’t take off. It just sat around the studio, while the then-new animators worked on The Rescuers, and the less risky projects like Pete's Dragon and The Small One. With the animators now gone, and Disney’s slow transition to win the teenager and adult audience in the late 1970s and early 1980s, it was time to get started on the project.

While this was going on, Don Bluth was ready to make a splash in the world of feature animation. The late 1970s and early 1980s brought more PG-rated animated endeavors, some of which actually did well at the box office such as Martin Rosen’s Watership Down, Ralph Bakshi’s Wizards and The Lord of the Rings and the Bakshi-esque Heavy Metal. Other films were still unique and game-changing none-the-less: Sanrio’s Metamorphoses, Martin Rosen’s The Plague Dogs, the cut-out animated Twice Upon a Time, and Bruno Bozzetto’s Allegro non Troppo. Other studios played it safe, Hanna Barbera continued to trip up with films like Heidi's Song. Warner Bros. cheated audiences with Looney Tunes “compilation” features like The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Movie and A Looney Looney Looney Bugs Bunny Movie.

Don Bluth first entered the ring when he and his crew finally completed Banjo the Woodpile Cat in 1979, which would get good reception. A two-minute sequence was also created for the 1980 musical Xanadu, being one of the better things about that film. With that behind them, they were ready to tackle a full-length feature film. Bluth joined forces with Aurora Productions to bring forth an animated adaptation of Robert O’Brien’s Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. Bluth’s plan was to make a film that was worthy of the Golden Age Disney animated classics, mainly Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pinocchio.

The Secret of NIMH was a breath of fresh air for its time, much superior to the highly flawed The Fox and the Hound, which Disney released the year before, along with a good number of the other animated films that were out at the time. The Secret of NIMH displays Bluth’s greatest strengths, but also some of his weaknesses that would come to plague his later films. It seems like most of the enthusiasm and ambition went into the visuals, more so than the writing. The film has beautiful art direction, and a lot of vibrant colors. Special effects are everywhere, with lots of flashes and shines, but it’s to the point where it feels gimmicky. Did Nicodemus’ eyes really have to be so shiny and laser-like? The rose bush scene is loaded with tons of sparkles and flashes. Rotoscoping is used for other special effects, which sometimes don’t look good. The work done on the tractor and plow makes what should be an intense scene less exciting. The character animation is great, very reminiscent of the older Disney animated films.

Its story, however, isn’t all that strong. It presents us with a believable conflict, and the first act is undeniably great, but it begins to plod and plod as it progresses. The story takes a backseat to the visuals, and the third act has the character Jenner revealed to be conspiring against the NIMH rats, despite the fact that we don’t really get to know him that well. Mrs. Brisby receives a magical amulet from Nicodemus that only serves as a cheap deus ex machina during the climax. Jeremy is turned into a clumsy crow who has too many pointless “comic relief” scenes centered around him and Mrs. Brisby’s children. Mrs. Brisby is a likable protagonist, as she is a brave and determined mouse who goes to great lengths to solve her dilemma.

The Secret of NIMH was still a good film, but it wasn’t the masterpiece the critics made it out to be. Most critics gushed over the film, as it did out-Disney many of Disney’s then-recent efforts, and was more like the Golden Age classics rather than something like Robin Hood. Some elements are right up there with classic Disney moments, particularly the sequence where Mrs. Brisby meets the Great Owl. The combination of dark imagery, eerie sound editing and an overall gloomy atmosphere make it a winner. The voice cast certainly does a fine job too, Elizabeth Hartman gives Mrs. Brisby her brave and dedicated qualities while also balancing that out with her innocent and motherly side. Dom DeLuise gives a rightfully obnoxious performance as an obnoxious character. John Carradine steals the show as the Great Owl, with an ominous and booming voice.

Released in the summer of 1982, NIMH’s unanimous critical reception didn’t translate to box office success. Spearheaded by low-key marketing by United Artists and caught in a sea storm with E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial along with other big blockbuster films, NIMH could only cough up not even half of what Disney’s last few animated films took in at the domestic box office. When released on home video in 1983, it began to get the audience it deserved and lived on as an animated classic.

The Secret of NIMH certainly had an impact on the animation industry and the critics, and it would be a signal to the directionless Disney studios. That same summer, Disney released Steven Lisberger’s science fiction adventure Tron. Like the previous PG-rated Disney output, this film was another attempt to reach out the teenage movie-goers. Tron contained groundbreaking use of computer generated imagery to depict the dark and strange world inside the computer. Wendy Carlos’ ominous score certainly fit the setting very well, almost playing out like a gloomy Atari 2600 game. The plot was good, and the action scenes were standout moments. Critics panned the often corny screenplay, and audiences most likely didn’t understand the computer jargon and the film’s themes. Tron wasn’t an outright flop, just a financial disappointment in the eyes of the Disney executives. Nevertheless, it was proof that Disney was willing to step up their game, even if they were going about it the wrong way. Tron certainly would've fared better years later, and the fact that it did so well on home video, spawned successful video games (a first for a Disney film) and even got a sequel many years later (and a subsequent franchise!) goes to show that Tron was ahead of its time.

In 1983, animator Glen Keane and then-newcomer John Lasseter worked on test footage for a planned adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are, one that seamlessly combined computer generated imagery and hand-drawn animation. It was a glimpse into what the future of the medium could be, and ultimately would be...



While this was going on, The Black Cauldron was just getting out of dormancy despite being green lit in 1980. After Tron’s release, production finally moved forward. The suits were hoping for an effects-laden spectacle that could possibly get Disney back on the map and actually compete with the likes of the fantasy films of the era. What they ignored was the story, which would turn out to be a real mess.

The Black Cauldron’s main protagonist, Taran, is a rather bland character that’s almost like the story crew’s attempt at giving audiences a Luke Skywalker-esque lead except he's not as interesting. Taran basically wants to be seen as a hero, being a rather bored young man who doesn’t want to spend his life taking care of the magical pig, Hen Wen. It’s hard to root for him because there’s not much to him to begin with. The Horned King is after the Black Cauldron, a deadly weapon that can resurrect the dead. He wants to turn the dead into an army, the Cauldron-Born, and rule all of Prydain. That’s about it, though. All he wants to do is rule the world, and nothing more. Despite how frightening he looks and sounds (John Hurt provides a great raspy, shadowy voice), he’s cardboard as far as villains go with not much motivation. He learns that the pig knows where the cauldron is, so the enchanter Dallben tells Taran to take Hen Wen to a cottage in the forest. Taran daydreams, and the pig runs off, getting swept away by the Horned King’s gwythaints. The story collapses in the second act when Taran is imprisoned. Taran meets a stolen princess named Eilonwy and a captured bard named Fflewdurr Flem. A cutesy sidekick who shows up early on returns, a dog-like monster named Gurgi, who is doesn’t add much to the story. Most of the film is marred by mediocre dialogue, and it can be a chore to sit through. Our leads aren't very interesting, and the things they encounter only make the story plod until its climax fires up.

Had The Black Cauldron not been in development hell for so long, the film could’ve had a much better story. Too many writers worked on it, trying to make a film based on the first two books, thus creating a convoluted near-catastrophe. Early concept art suggests that The Black Cauldron could’ve been a very engaging epic. It does try some new things. For starters, there are no musical numbers or songs. Lots of creepy visuals and material that could be too frightening for children defined the tone of the film, along with some violence. Elmer Bernstein provides an eerie, spectacular score. But The Black Cauldron wasn’t a dark film, but rather a film that “looked” dark. There was no genuine horror like there was in the Golden Age Disney films, and visuals alone can't generate great creepy moments.

Some sequences are knock-outs, such as the Horned King’s introduction and the chase where the gwythaints capture Hen Wen. Taran fighting his way out of the castle with the magic sword makes for a pretty solid action sequence. Most of the film’s first act is very well handled too, moving at a considerable pace. The use of special effects pays off here and there, but still, with better writing, the film as a whole would’ve been a real thrill. This was also the first Disney animated film to make use of computer generated imagery, for small things from time to time like the boat the trio use to escape the crumbling castle. The animation itself is somewhat bland, feeling as if the artists tried to replicate the look of the previous Disney animated films, but the dark fantasy film look is welcomed. Some character designs are solid, such as Gurgi, Hen Wen, the Horned King and Creeper. Others are just expected and quite frankly, uninteresting, almost coming off like "Disney stock" characters.

The Black Cauldron’s road to release was quite bumpy, as Disney was having several issues. The company was fighting off any possible takeovers while also facing hard times financially. Roy E. Disney ultimately put a stop to this, and a new regime took over after Ron Miller’s resignation in 1984. Coming from Paramount, Michael Eisner became the CEO of the company and Jeffrey Katzenberg became the Chairman of the studio. Roy took a look at The Black Cauldron, which was on its way to completion. He didn’t like what he saw, a cluster of story problems and ill-defined characters.

When Jeffrey Katzenberg saw it, he wanted it to be edited for time constraints. Originally thought to be a roughly 90-minute film (Disney’s longest since Fantasia), Katzenberg wanted ten minutes cut and gave producer Joe Hale hell if ten minutes weren’t cut (“Is that ten minutes?”). The film was delayed from its planned Christmas 1984 release to the summer of 1985. A musical number with the Fair Folk thankfully got the ax, and Taran’s trip through the woods after he loses Hen Wen was significantly shortened. You can see that the animators simply recycled the scene from Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too where Rabbit is lost in the woods, for when Taran searches for the oracular pig. With all of that gone, The Black Cauldron was almost ready. Elmer Bernstein’s score had been completed, and the animation was completed by early 1985.

A screening was held in the studio shortly afterwards with disastrous results, angry parents objected to the film’s third act, where the Horned King uses the cauldron to resurrect the dead soldiers. Scenes where the skeletons slaughter some of the Horned King’s goons caught the attention of Katzenberg, who demanded the fully animated scenes be cut and even asked for “outtakes” to use in their place. Katzenberg didn’t realize at the time that no coverage was done in animation like it was in live action. He took the finished film into an editing room, and cut out two minutes of graphic violence that could’ve gotten the film a PG-13 or R rating. With these scenes missing, Elmer Bernstein’s score skips, and it’s very noticeable.

Jeffrey Katzenberg believed that Disney animation was for young children first and foremost, and this was the first of many atrocities he and Michael Eisner did to Disney animation that would lead to the animation studio’s misfortunes following the Renaissance. The film was finally released to theaters in July of 1985 with barely any marketing behind it. The film garnered mixed reviews and disappeared quickly. The film was a box office dud, being labelled as a massive flop. For years, Disney acted as if the film didn’t exist. It was even recut to be more kid-friendly. This version was released internationally as Taran and the Magic Cauldron in the early 1990s, but Disney finally released the original film on home video years later.

Perhaps the early to mid 1980s could be called the “Dark Age” of Disney, but to call it that is somewhat unfair. It only lasted for a brief period of time, and films like Tron have gone on to become very successful years later. The Black Cauldron sold incredibly well when released on home video stateside in 1998, and let’s not forget that Disney successfully launched The Disney Channel during this “Dark Age” while also releasing their films, little by little, on home video formats. Animation itself on the other hand had its troubles. The early 1980s wasn’t a good time to release a full-length animated feature given how toxic the medium’s reputation was. More and more Saturday morning cartoons dominated the airwaves, most of which being extremely successful toy commercials, only convincing audiences and executives that animation was only for children. Consider this, The Care Bears Movie outgrossed The Black Cauldron and every other animated film released from 1982 to 1985. No new animated film was even released theatrically in the United States in 1984!

The next Disney animated feature would be completed quickly with a much smaller budget, The Great Mouse Detective. Based on Eve Titus’ Basil of Baker Street books, a young mouse named Olivia is alone after her father, a toymaker, is kidnapped. Her and the kind-hearted Dr. David Q. Dawson go to find Basil of Baker Street, a Sherlock Holmes-esque detective. The crafty sleuth finds out that Olivia’s father’s kidnapper is a wily bat named Fidget, who is the lackey of the nefarious Professor Ratigan. Ratigan plans on using Olivia’s father to build a robotic version of Queen Mousetoria and take over England. It’s a simple and coherent plot that is packed with enough sparkle to delight the young and old. It doesn’t aim for the heights that the last three films aimed for, but it knows that.

All told briskly in just 74 minutes, The Great Mouse Detective has the good humor that defined a lot of the earlier Disney films, but at the same time, it never goes beyond what it is. It stays within the confines of a simple narrative, so trying to stack it up next to the Golden Age films or even something like The Rescuers would only make it seem inferior by comparison. As a delightful romp, it succeeds. The characters are likable, and the animators seemed to have a field day with some. Ratigan steals the show, a comic menace voiced by a gleefully evil Vincent Price. The rat may seem sophisticated, but he’s really trying to keep his animal in check much like Shere Khan.

Fun action scenes are sprinkled with good humor and slapstick that works, given the cartoon-like nature of the story. Its animation is a mixed bag, with some neat backgrounds that evoke a foggy, dark atmosphere with nods to Sherlock Holmes films. Most of the film, however, looks more in line with a Saturday morning cartoon. This isn’t the animators’ fault, since they had to work with a smaller budget and meet a deadline, they try to make the most of it. The character animation is loose and impressive, unlike the frustrated and often rote work seen in The Fox and the Hound and The Black Cauldron.

The film’s climax takes place inside of Big Ben, an elaborate chase scene where computer generated imagery was used to create all the gears and mechanisms. The scene is so beautiful and detailed, it clashes with the rest of the visual style of the whole picture. The camera swoops through gears as Ratigan gives chase to Basil, showcasing how the use of computer generated imagery could take the medium to new heights, much like the Wild Things test scene. Basil and Ratigan fight on the clock hands, showcasing some powerful animation that’s nothing short of thrilling.

While not an ambitious film that would be worthy of Disney’s best, The Great Mouse Detective is a satisfying endeavor on its own. Its a lighthearted treat that was a breather from the last two films, films that could’ve been great but spoiled by bad blunders. This certainly paid off, as The Great Mouse Detective hit theaters in the summer of 1986, getting good reviews and making a tidy profit for Disney. This gave the animation world some hope, as it had outgrossed The Black Cauldron by a considerable amount.

Then... In November... The light came at the end of the tunnel...

The record-breaking success of Don Bluth’s An American Tail, produced by Steven Spielberg, was an unexpected smash for the medium. The film might not have gotten great reviews, but its success was what convinced Disney executives that animation wasn’t dead and could in fact be extremely profitable. Eisner and Katzenberg were close to phasing out the feature animation studio, favoring future endeavors like Touchstone Pictures, a brand name for Disney to release adult-oriented films without scaring teenagers and adults away. An American Tail’s success and the record-breaking home video sales of the Disney animated classics were what got Disney to go back to animated films and immediately usher the Second Golden Age of Animation...

The rest, they say, is history...

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So were the 1970s and 1980s the "Dark Age" of Disney animation? No.

Sure, it wasn't a Renaissance, but Disney had a lot of financially successful films released at the time. Films like The Rescuers showed that Disney was indeed aiming high at times, and not everything released was truly abysmal. The Aristocats and Robin Hood have their faults, but they are by no means terrible. Tron and a few other live-action films demonstrated the changes Disney was willing to go through in an attempt to catch up with audiences. It was more like a transitional time. Without Walt Disney, the company had to move on but yet they were close to just plugging along...

The changes that took place at Disney and in the world of feature animation shaped the medium. The rise of adults-only animation from filmmakers like Ralph Bakshi were certainly groundbreaking, and stateside releases of foreign animated films certainly grew during this time. Young artists showed that animation was still alive, and these very artists would help take animation to successful heights in the late 1980s and early 1990s. From the Second Golden Age onwards, the idea of the animated feature film has never gone away, and you can say it all started with the talent Disney hired in the 1970s and 1980s...

A "Dark Age"? No. Were there tough times? Certainly. There were tough times during the Renaissance and even the First Golden Age. Instead, the 1970s and 1980s was a phase where animation had to stand on its own despite what was working against it, and it certainly did...

The Dark Age? (Part 2)

In part one of "The Dark Age?", I took a look at the two films that Disney’s feature animation wing produced following the death of Walt Disney: The Aristocats (1970) and Robin Hood (1973). Both films showed just how misguided the studio was after Uncle Walt’s passing. Executives wanted to play it safe, and the animators didn’t seem to have much freedom, sticking to a formula that was only successful in The Jungle Book. Meanwhile, several animated films from other studios tried new things: George Dunning’s Yellow Submarine, Ralph Bakshi’s Fritz the Cat and Heavy Traffic, and several foreign animated films.

One man was certainly not happy with the situation, it was none other than Don Bluth, who felt that Robin Hood had none of the charm that distinguished Walt Disney’s greatest films, mainly the first five Golden Age gems: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo and Bambi. Bluth balked at the messy storytelling and penny pinching that plagued Robin Hood, and the newly-recruited young animators most likely objected to these problems as well. They were hoping to tackle a project of Snow White’s caliber, not something safe, formulaic and dated. With the next film in production, these animators were ready. In fact, early on, they worked with Don Bluth in his garage on side project called Banjo the Woodpile Cat. This short would be closer to the classic Disney style than what was put out at the time. It was a project that executive Ron Miller, future President of Walt Disney Productions, rejected. A film based on Margery Sharp’s The Rescuers books was a go in the mid-1970s, and it’s one that Don Bluth would be heavily involved it, moving up to the Directing Animator position.

As Disney was working on The Rescuers, more experimental and decidedly adult-oriented animated films came and went. Limited releases of foreign films like Rene Laloux’s Fantastic Planet and several Japanese animated films were common, as they were in the 1960s. Risky endeavors like Richard Williams’ lavish Raggedy Ann and Andy: A Musical Adventure didn’t make a mark at the box office. Television animation studios like Filmation and Hanna Barbera entered the ring with passable efforts like Journey Back to Oz and Charlotte's Web, respectively. The “adult-oriented” animation boom continued as Ralph Bakshi made more films, like the very controversial Coonskin. Other studios tried to ride the wave, with efforts like Once Upon a Girl and Down and Dirty Duck. After Coonskin, Bakshi took a trip into the fantasy genre for his future animated films and dropped the gritty, personal stories. This all began with 1977’s Wizards, which was a rotoscoped film that still got good reviews and did well at the box office as it was certainly more accessible.

The animation scene hadn’t changed much since The Aristocats had come out, Disney’s output was going up against all these kinds of films. In order to really compete, even though Disney’s films won at the box office each time out, they needed to make a film that was worthy of what Walt produced. The Rescuers was most likely conceived as another Jungle Book/Aristocats/Robin Hood-style comedy with the same old routine. Early drafts even had Cruella de Vil as the villain! Don Bluth and the animators wanted something better. The improved Xerography process removed the rough look of the earlier films. Immensely disdainful of the look that Xerography had delivered in One Hundred and One Dalmatians, Walt would’ve been pleased with this since the animators were able to go back to the classic designs while the studio could still cut costs. Colored outlines could now be utilized, making things look noticeably softer than what was seen in everything from Dalmatians to Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too! (1974).

The Rescuers’ story involved a young orphan girl named Penny (voiced by Michelle Stacy), who is held captive on a riverboat in the Southern bayous by an unscrupulous woman named Madam Medusa (voiced by Geraldine Page) and her bumbling, inept partner, Mr. Snoops (voiced by Joe Flynn). They use the poor girl to search a pirate’s cave for an elusive diamond called the Devil’s Eye. The Rescue Aid Society, a brigade of noble mice from all around the world get her message in a bottle and send the timid janitor Bernard (voiced by Bob Newhart) and the adventurous Miss Bianca (voiced by Eva Gabor) on a mission to save her and bring her back to Morningside Orphanage in New York. Without anyone like Don Bluth around, this could’ve easily been another unmitigated disaster on the order of Robin Hood. Bluth made sure that the story would be told the way Walt would’ve told it, with drama, depth and darkness while also having enough comic relief to take the edge off when appropriate. The Devil’s Bayou, the swamp where most of the film takes place, is very gloomy and dark. The scene where Penny, with the help of Bernard and Bianca, tries to get the diamond out of a skull inside the pirate’s cave before it floods is wonderfully tense. Madam Medusa is also one of Disney’s most unfairly overlooked villains, a mean-spirited character who actually goes out of her way to really hurt Penny’s feelings (“What makes you think anyone would want a homely little girl like you?” she says to her after Penny tells her why she wants to go back to the orphanage after she finds the diamond). Animated with such flamboyance by Milt Kahl, she is actually a much better antagonist than a good number of Disney’s most well-known and loved villains. She manipulates the girl while treating her terribly, all to get ahead and get something she wants. This is a much better conflict than what we saw in the previous couple of films, as we really root for Penny’s escape and for the two mice to succeed in their mission.

Going against the darkness and the unusually strong conflict is yet again more silliness in the form of a gang of swamp critters who are of help to the two mice. They have a point in the story, but their antics mimic the comedy we saw in Robin Hood (not to mention some of the cast is straight out of that film). This isn’t a bad thing, but at times it tends to clash with the overall mood of the narrative. Slapstick is there, too, sometimes going against the dark tone of the story, such as Medusa’s gun being clogged with a stick of dynamite that backs up like it was its own character. In a more successful slapstick moment, a scene where Bernard and Bianca try to get away from Brutus and Nero (Medusa’s alligators) in a pipe organ is absolutely hilarious. Orville, the albatross who flies Bernard and Bianca from New York to down South, is a hoot. Voiced by Fibber McGee himself, Jim Jordan, the funniest bits are the scenes where he avoids Medusa’s fireworks on the way to the bayou.

The only other problems with The Rescuers are in the animation itself. While the character animation is fantastic, the film still has a lot of roughness. Animation from past films is recycled once again, especially on an important sequence like “Someone’s Waiting for You”. Rotoscoping is also used, from special effects (which are either subtle or jarring) to human characters we only see for mere seconds. Some backgrounds are also borrowed, such as a shot of the Devil’s Bayou which takes the same set of trees from The Jungle Book. That is actually followed by a scene where Penny runs away, it’s the same animation of Mowgli running away from Baloo when he tells the boy that he has to go back to the man village. Again, laziness. The entire opening credits is told through paintings by Mel Shaw, which are beautiful, and make up for the opening credits of The Aristocats and Robin Hood, which basically recycled scenes from the film itself.

The songs are good for the most part. All but one of them are sung offscreen, much like Dumbo and Bambi, and written by Carol Connors, Sammy Fain (who wrote songs for Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan) and Ayn Robbins. “Someone’s Waiting for You” is a tearjerker, but it is only undermined by the use of recycled animation (Bambi’s mother, for instance), but that wouldn’t be much of a nuisance to a non-animation fan. “Tomorrow is Another Day” is pretty, but it has a dated 1970s pop twang to it. “The Journey” is absolutely beautiful, and the artwork its set to makes it all the more better. The only song that I could do without is “Rescue Aid Society”, a silly, forgettable tune that’s the only number that the characters sing.

The Rescuers, despite some setbacks, was a return to form. Gone was the slapdash storytelling seen in The Aristocats and Robin Hood. The film did its best to cater to adults and everyone else, rather than the younger set, much like the classics did. Its mix of action, inspired art direction, very good writing and a strong story made for an entertaining event that no one should’ve missed. This film would solidify why Disney animated films were worth seeing on the big screen, and with the quality of the story behind it, it could compete with the heavies at the box office.

The Rescuers opened in the summer of 1977 to rave reviews all across the board, with many critics praising it as a sort of “second coming”. This is all thanks to the ambitions of Don Bluth and the enthusiastic young crew working on the film, as many animators such as Milt Kahl made this film their swan song. The Rescuers was also a huge hit at the box office, becoming the highest grossing animated on initial release. The record wouldn’t broken for another nine years. All seemed well in the world of animation, Disney had finally gotten back to their roots and soared critically and commercially at the same time. Disney immediately fired up production on the next film, The Fox and the Hound and also sought to jumpstart a film based on Lloyd Alexander’s The Chronicles of Prydain, as the project based on the five-book series had been in pre-production earlier that decade. Meanwhile, Don Bluth and the animators were finishing up on Pete's Dragon and working on a short subject called The Small One. Another upcoming project was Mickey's Christmas Carol, based on Charles Dickens’ classic featuring Scrooge McDuck as Ebenezer Scrooge.

Problems began to rise during production of The Fox and the Hound. Bluth and several of the other animators objected to Disney’s cost-cutting methods and their adherence to a formula. Story changes were made that compromised this adaptation of Daniel P. Mannix’s downer novel, which was being tooled into a story that was about prejudice. That was one of many problems that ultimately lead to Don Bluth resigning on September 14, 1979 with fourteen of the young animators. This was a harsh blow to Disney, and it even made the news, which was rare in the world of animation at the time. With that, Disney immediately delayed the release of the film from a Christmas 1980 date to the summer of 1981. The company did what they could to blacklist Bluth and the former animators, who had completed Banjo the Woodpile Cat and were joining forces with Aurora Productions (formed by former Disney executives) to produce a full-length feature film to compete with Disney’s films.

With the rest of the veteran animators retiring, Disney started recruiting more animators and improved the training program. Production moved forward once again, but the story had already been compromised from the get-go. Due to these problems, The Fox and the Hound was a step backwards from The Rescuers. The story centered around a fox kit named Tod (young Tod is voiced by Keith Coogan, and adult Tod is voiced by Mickey Rooney) and a hound puppy named Copper (Corey Feldman provides the voice of young Copper, while Kurt Russell provides his adult voice), who become inseparable friends. Unfortunately, Copper is supposed to grow up to become a hunting dog and Tod’s adoptive owner, Widow Tweed (voiced by Jeanette Nolan), will have to release him in the wild one day. Copper’s trigger-happy owner, Amos Slade (voiced by Jack Albertson), already doesn’t take a liking to the mischievous fox cub. Meanwhile, an owl named Big Mama (voiced by Pearl Bailey) attempts to help Tod understand that Copper may have to hunt him down one day.

Fortunately, the story isn’t episodic like Robin Hood’s lazy excuse for a narrative and the writing for the most part is passable. The characters are appealing, and there’s an unusually melancholic tone that permeates the entire film. Punches are pulled, hurting the story in many ways. When director Art Stevens demanded that Chief should’ve survived after getting hit by the train, he not only watered down the story but he also went against logic. Chief not dying after that accident was terribly unrealistic, and Copper’s revenge is pointless now that Chief just wobbles around with a broken leg. Despite the holes, the film’s second half is surprisingly intense compared to the rather innocent first act.

Another problem is the excessive cutesiness in the first act, which is blown over the top thanks to the inclusion of two comic relief birds that add nothing to the story. They only exist to provide laughs for the children, once again reminding one of the goofiness of The Aristocats and Robin Hood. Like Robin Hood and The Rescuers, Disney was also perfectly content with casting celebrities who were known for their comedy TV shows. The cast certainly gives it their all, especially Pearl Bailey, who provides the voice of Big Mama, an owl who helps Todd understand things. This sort of thing had become by the early 1980s, however.

The Fox and the Hound's central theme is one of its greatest strengths, as the story of Tod and Copper’s friendship was meant to mirror the lives of children who are raised with racial prejudice in the 1970s. This theme was so prominent that it actually caught the attention of the public upon release. Politics in a Disney film? There were other deep themes in the Disney films of the past, but The Fox and the Hound’s message caught on in the media, and a few critics praised that element of the story. Combine that with its somber mood (a byproduct of Don Bluth’s career at the studio) and some incredible animation, The Fox and the Hound isn’t an outright failure. It’s a film that wants to be right in line with The Rescuers, but it’s held back by executives and misguided minds trying to play it safe. What made The Rescuers work was that it didn’t play it safe, it tried to be like a Walt film with its moody visuals, great heart and solid story. With everything that works against this film, you can see why Don Bluth and the animators left during production. Take this story for example: Wolfgang Reitherman, who already liked the idea of recycling animation from past Disney films, wanted a sequence where Tod and Vixey (voiced by Sandy Duncan) meet two cranes voiced by Phil Harris and Charo. The two were to provide a disco number. Everyone hated the idea, and rightfully so. It would’ve been a painfully pathetic way to make the film relevant, but also, disco wasn’t topping the charts by 1981. As if Art Stevens’ forcing the story team to scrap Chief’s death wasn’t enough... The Fox and the Hound’s second act is riddled with the contrived revenge (again, due to Chief’s death being nixed), a love story that seems like an eleventh hour inclusion and scenes where Tod meets various critters in the forest such as a grumpy old Badger (voiced by John McIntire) and a kindly porcupine (voiced by John Fiedler). The story ultimately plods until its intense third act climax, where Tod and Copper fight to the death. The fight leads up to an encounter with a massive grizzly bear. Glen Keane turned this sequence into a powerhouse of vicious, wild animation and jaw-dropping staging.

Originally, he had planned to animate it in charcoal, but it would prove to be too costly. At the time, this was the most expensive animated film ever made with a budget of $12 million. Yet it doesn’t suggest the quality. While most of the character animation soars, the art direction feels like a milder version of what we saw in older Disney films set in beautiful forests. It’s still nice to look at, but nothing special. It’s got a very soft look that’s closer to the 1950s Disney films than anything, but nothing elaborate or even innovative. The music is forgettable, with awkward songs like “Lack of Education”, where Big Mama and the two comic relief birds attempt to tell Tod about what might happen to him. “Goodbye May Seem Forever” almost reaches tearjerker level, but it’s minimal and ultimately without much of an effect since it goes by too quickly with a weird arrangement and half-baked harmonies. “A Huntin’ Man” only lasts mere seconds. “Best of Friends” is passable at best, if not for Pearl Bailey’s vocals. “Appreciate the Lady”, also sung by Bailey, is also awkward and too short to be a suitable love song. The score’s odd mix of a cheesy 1980s tone and the overuse of the wailing country harmonica is a bit droning, and it affects a lot of these songs.

The Fox and the Hound should not have had musical numbers, because for the first time, it feels as if the crew added songs for the sake of having them in the film. The story didn’t need to be a musical, instead they could’ve opted for just a few songs that were sung offscreen much like the ones in Dumbo, Bambi and The Rescuers. Given the tone of the original novel, this probably wasn’t a suitable story to tackle at Disney at the time. Walt certainly wouldn’t approach the story this way, he would’ve done it in a similar manner to Bambi with less comic relief, enough innocence so it wouldn’t be cloying, and more drama. The film’s climactic bear fight scene is excellent, and it makes the rest of the film seem so pedestrian in comparison. Had the rest of the film been more like that, and no silly humor, contrived songs or annoying comic relief characters, The Fox and the Hound would essentially be the continuation of the ambition seen in The Rescuers.

For the most part, it has great intentions. If not for the misguided nature of the studio at the time, and if not for Don Bluth’s departure, it could’ve been a great and profound film that would get the widespread critical acclaim its predecessor got and perhaps convinced audiences that animation was an art form for adults. It would be Bambi, but for the 1980s. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be, though a good chunk of the brilliance is kept. This makes The Fox and the Hound an average effort at best, one that’s severely held back from being something truly special. When released in the summer of 1981, it received mixed reviews. Some critics praised the prejudice themes, the animation and a few other things. Others found fault with the cutesiness and how watered down it was. Nevertheless, it was very successful at the box office, outgrossing The Rescuers. With that, Disney fired up production on The Black Cauldron, the long in development project based on the Lloyd Alexander novels. Meanwhile, Don Bluth Productions was hard at work on an ambitious, dazzling animated feature: The Secret of NIMH...

The Rescuers, like the success of Yellow Submarine and Fantasia in the late 1960s, was almost the start of a new renaissance for the art form. Again, it did not happen. Disney went backwards, as competitors continued to move forward. The late 1970s was also a time when Disney started making very interesting creative decisions, but, we’ll save that part three...

The Dark Age? (Part 1)

The 1970s and 1980s are often regarded as the Disney “Dark Age” and a tough time for animated films in general, but were they really?

Both decades brought ups and downs for the medium, but people tend to focus on the negative aspects more than anything. Some of Disney's weaker films happened to be made during these times, but this isn't exclusive to the 1970s or the 1980s. Disney had their ups and downs during the much-heralded Renaissance, and had several hard times after that faithful period. I want to focus on a particular period, starting after the release of Walt Disney's posthumous The Jungle Book in 1967 and ending in 1986 with the release of Don Bluth's blockbuster animated smash, An American Tail.

While Disney was plugging along, other studios decided to take advantage of the medium like Walt himself did. Animated films were on the brink of losing the adult and teenage audience, and only had to rely on the family audiences to stay alive. While Walt made family films, he never made "children's films". His films appealed to adults as much as children, which is why they were so successful and still are to this day. With Saturday morning cartoons polluting the world of animation, more and more people turned their back on the art form and assumed that it was for children only. The films the studio released contrasted heavily with Disney's output at the time, which was shockingly bland and rote. Let's take a look into what the Mouse House was up to during the late 1960s and early 1970s, what else was around during that time...

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Disney proved that they were without a clear direction after the death of Walt Disney in 1966 with their next feature. The runaway critical and commercial success of The Jungle Book convinced the studio that animated films could still be profitable and popular in an era of cheap child-oriented Saturday morning cartoons, so the crew began work on a film Walt gave the go-head to, The Aristocats. When the film was released in 1970, it underwhelmed the critics while family audiences flocked to see it. It was another financial success for Disney, and that’s what the suits wanted. The Aristocats essentially takes after The Sword in the Stone and The Jungle Book. It’s a carefree comedy with fun songs, silly situations and wacky characters. The Jungle Book used this tone to its advantage, and the result was an enjoyable film that was full of character. It had no problem in taking liberties with Rudyard Kipling’s books, but it was never tasteless or condescending towards the audience. The Sword in the Stone failed to make this style work, and instead fell flat on its face with an episodic story that had barely any structure, no real conflict or any form of strong drama. It was enough to get Walt to be more involved with The Jungle Book and more critical of story man Bill Peet, who ended up leaving during pre-production of that film.

The Aristocats is an awkward, uneven mix of both films. The conflict is there, but the idea of Madame Adelaide having her cats inherit her fortunes after she passes away is contrived and quite frankly, idiotic. The antagonist, Adelaide's sly butler Edgar, is not much to write home about. After all, it would be silly to not inherit anything while a bunch of cats will, and most likely outlive you. The love story feels like a reheated version of Lady and the Tramp, as the relationship lacks any real chemistry. Duchess (voiced by Eva Gabor) and Thomas O'Malley (voiced by Phil Harris) aren't as appealing as they should be, seeming like stock characters more than anything. The idea of the cats having to get home rings too similar to One Hundred and One Dalmatians. The Aristocats feels like it's on autopilot, trying to use what made those past films work, plus excessive cutesy cliches, and hoping they make for an acceptable diversion. It’s definitely more kid-friendly than what Disney had put out before. It was always one of my favorites growing up, and to this day, I have a sentimental affection for it.

One of the more successful things in The Aristocats are the songs, particularly the big number “Ev’rybody Wants to Be a Cat”, written by Floyd Huddleston and Al Rinkler. This sequence is a real treat, done with such verve, giving the often dull-looking film a splash of much-needed energy. The Aristocats’ visuals leave a lot to be desired, with such a mundane palette and a style that seems to be a regurgitated One Hundred and One Dalmatians, but without the edge or flair that distinguished that film from the other Disney classics. Everything about the visuals are by-the-numbers, passable but nothing spectacular. The Sherman brothers contribute three songs, the opening credits number sung by Maurice Chevalier, the childish and unnecessary "Scales and Arpeggios" and an unused song, "She Never Felt Alone". Why they cut it, I don't know... In the film, it would've worked and established how the cats meant the world to the lonely old widow. Terry Gilkyson's "Thomas O'Malley" is nice and upbeat, and it fits the character as much as "The Bare Necessities" fit Baloo.

Everything else crumbles: The non-existent story, the romance between Duchess and Thomas O’Malley, and the conflict. Even more shocking are its glaring inconsistencies and anachronisms. First of all, Scat Cat’s gang. The film takes place in Paris in 1910, yet one of his friends is a hippie cat with beads and glasses. From there, you can simply tell that the film is not trying to take itself seriously at all. Another friend of his is a Siamese cat, and one that’s a rather unflattering stereotype (“Fortune cookie always wrong!”). A Russian cat and an Italian cat make up the rest of the gang, and they all have great personalities, more so than Duchess and everyone else. Their scene is a highlight, but it’s possibly the only great scene that can be salvaged from the mess. Also, how do they know what jazz is? Jazz wasn't around in France in 1910, instead starting up in New Orleans (unless Scat Cat happened to be in New Orleans first and then somehow got to Paris). It just feels like a cheap excuse to have jazz music in the film, because swing music worked so well in The Jungle Book and certainly payed off. The rest of the narrative is padded out with comic relief and slapstick. Scenes with two geese and their drunken uncle have no point, only taking the cats back to Paris while trying to provide the laughs. When Edgar attempts to dump the cats off in the countryside, he is pursued by two goofy dogs with Southern accents. He loses his hat and umbrella to them, thus we get a lengthy scene where he goes back to their farm and gets back his belongings. These scenes are funny and well-timed, but amidst the sloppy narrative, they are inconsequential.

The Aristocats is ultimately too self-conscious, making for a romp that essentially plunders the last few Disney films in an attempt to lure in the family audiences, and it worked. The Aristocats would not be approved by Walt Disney himself, considering how he felt about The Sword in the Stone. Nonetheless, it was a big success that taught Disney one thing: "Keep making more films, but keep the budget low and don't try anything crazy. Audiences will love it just the same."

When The Aristocats was in production, two animated features made for a potential renaissance. George Dunning’s Yellow Submarine and a re-release of Walt Disney’s Fantasia...

Yellow Submarine, in addition to having a Beatles soundtrack, was a wildly experimental endeavor that mixed different forms of animation to elevate a surrealistic dream-like story where The Beatles travel to the magical land of Pepperland to outwit the music and peace-hating Blue Meanies. The plot was more than just a linking device for the numerous sequences set to the Beatles’ songs. Unlike The Aristocats and Robin Hood, Yellow Submarine’s narrative never felt half-hearted. It’s a tad episodic, but never aimless. At 90 minutes, it was certainly a bit longer than most of the Disney animated films given the song sequences, over fifteen Beatles recordings made the cut and some of them tend to divert from the story itself. Directed and animated with panache and creativity, they combine unpredictable psychedelic flair with an ethereal aura.

“Eleanor Rigby” serves as a tour of a dreary Liverpool full of rotoscoped humans and black-and-white photography that look sorrow and lifeless. George Harrison’s introduction combines filtered live-action footage and several colors while “Love You To”’s prominent sitar captures an Indian background, as Harrison was diving into the world of raga music during production. “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” is a purely wild psychedelic dance, while “Only a Northern Song” blends the pop art of Peter Max in a sea of confusion. Other sequences such as “All You Need is Love” advance the plot more so, as John Lennon sings it to the Dreadful Flying Glove and defeats it. Others, such as the wickedly wacky and madcap “Hey Bulldog” sequence tend to meander, but the film doesn't need to reach its climax in such a hurry.

Yellow Submarine is not thinking of plot. Delightful characters, abstract art, sharp satire and music are the name of the game. Yellow Submarine feels more in line with one of the Golden Age films, particularly Fantasia. The use of music and artwork to tell a story might not have been new in 1968, but Yellow Submarine reintroduced this concept to general audiences.

The success of the film carried over onto the 1969 re-release of Fantasia, where it was accepted as an art film. Disney marketed it as a head trip film for its 1969 re-release, knowing that it was surefire way to appeal to contemporary audiences. With that, the film finally turned a profit, something Walt unfortunately did not live to see. The success of Yellow Submarine and the re-release of Fantasia kicked off a new era for animation, as the 1970s were dominated with equally interesting and surreal efforts: Bruno Bozzetto’s Allegro non Troppo, Richard Williams’ Raggedy Ann and Andy: A Musical Adventure, Sanrio’s Metamorphoses and several others.

Yellow Submarine showed what heights animation could go to on a visual level, but two films showed what kind of content an animated film could try on: Ralph Bakshi's first two films, Fritz the Cat and Heavy Traffic. Both films used an animation style that was decidedly ugly and gritty, with dashes of unrestrained surrealism. Instead of telling universal stories fit for general audiences, they opted for more modern stories that reflected society. With its gore, sexual content and language, Fritz the Cat became the first animated film to garner an X rating from the MPAA. Its shock value imagery got people talking, but Fritz the Cat was praised for its social commentary and ambitions. Fitting in with the auteur movement of the 1970s, Bakshi's film was a very personal story in a modern setting. It was far removed from the fairy tales and classic stories that dominated the medium for the last few decades. Fritz the Cat wasn't the first "adult-oriented" animated film, but it was unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. In turn, it was an unexpected smash hit, especially for an independent release. His following film, Heavy Traffic, released in 1973, was another critical and commercial success. Both films would start a boom of sorts, of animation with shock value and content only suitable for mature audiences: Down and Dirty Duck, Heavy Metal, King Dick, Rock & Rule in addition to Bakshi's next few films. However, some of these films failed since they only relied on content rather than the story or the brains that made Fritz the Cat and Heavy Traffic successful.

Meanwhile, Disney was content with staying within the boundaries with their next feature, Robin Hood. Going a rather unoriginal route, the entire story was retold with animal characters. Like The Jungle Book, the characters would be heavily modeled after the celebrities who provided the voices, and the film had a rather eclectic cast for a story set in Merry Old England. A good portion of it is American, particularly of the country variety: Roger Miller, Pat Buttram, Andy Devine... Phil Harris portrays Little John, who is a dead ringer for Baloo, the corner-cutting only gets worse from there. The Disney studios were apparently so low on money, that Robin Hood was literally made on a shoestring budget of $1 million. Several scenes recycle animation from previous Disney features and short subjects, I even noticed this when I was young. Disney had been doing this for quite some time before Robin Hood, but the laziness is so rampant here that animator Milt Kahl called the animators “garbagemen”. A scene where King Richard returns to the kingdom was almost finished, but cut at last minute, leaving a huge void in the film’s final act. Sherwood Forest echoes the look of the Hundred Acre Wood more than anything, making for a rather bland-looking presentation of what should be a beautiful, dazzling forest. It’s devoid of any visual pizzazz or sparkle.

Instead of telling the story of Robin Hood in an epic manner, the film instead decides to yet again give us another Jungle Book-style comedy romp. Like The Aristocats, it’s definitely a winner with younger audiences, with its Saturday morning cartoon conventions. At times, it’s very witty and even entertaining as all hell. Like The Sword in the Stone, it’s just a bunch of episodes strung together by a non-existent story that goes nowhere. Then out of the blue, things start to get interesting. There’s an incredible amount of build-up during the film’s third act, as Robin Hood comes up with a clever way to steal all of the gold from Prince John’s bedroom without waking him while Little John frees the imprisoned citizens of Nottingham and saves Friar Truck from being hung. It gets very good, then a big chase occurs, things get exciting. All of it culminates with Robin Hood jumping off the castle and into the moat, surviving some arrows and then Prince John flipping out on his snake assistant, Sir Hiss. What happens next? Surely Prince John, Sir Hiss and the Sheriff all get what’s coming to them, right? No. Instead, Allan-a-Dale, the film’s narrator, tells us that King Richard returned and “straightened everything out”. This conclusion is a gigantic middle finger to the audience, and one can only imagine how it would’ve been had the animators actually completed the sequence where King Richard shows up right after the final battle.

Robin Hood contained the weakest story in a Disney animated film, one that had no direction and had an unsuitable finale. The conflict between Robin Hood and the authorities seemed to be muted in favor of pointless scenes, including those of a young bunny named Skippy and his friends. The archery tournament sequence is a highlight, but again, it feels like a mere episode. The banter between Prince John and Sir Hiss is quite hilarious, as Peter Ustinov turns the tyrant into an absolutely hilarious coward that would make Captain Hook blush. Sir Hiss, voiced by Terry-Thomas, only adds to the fun. The musical numbers are quite catchy, provided by Roger Miller, George Bruns, Floyd Huddleston and Johnny Mercer. The choice of artists certainly was more modern than any other Disney film, obviously to help the film appeal to contemporary family audiences instead of opting for something timeless. Their songs are certainly good, but most of them feel dated. Roger Miller’s “Whistle Stop” is all whistling like the title implies, and his sorrow “Not in Nottingham” feels like a 1960s country song. “The Phony King of England” resembles the bouncy zest and carefree flow of “I Wan’na Be Like You” and “Ev’rybody Wants to Be a Cat”, while also blatantly stealing animation from both scenes. “Love” has no punch, however, with its simple title and generic early 1970s MOR sound. When you think of Disney films, you may think of legendary love ballads like “Bella Note”, “Tale as Old as Time”, “A Whole New World”... “Love” is not one of those.

Don Bluth

New animators were brought into the studio during production of the film, enthusiastic young individuals who would become the next generation of classic Disney animators. One of them, however, wasn’t one of the young animators: Don Bluth. He had worked at Disney during the late 1950s and mid 1960s, only to return in 1971. Excited to be working alongside the Nine Old Men, the giants, Bluth was not impressed with what he was seeing in Robin Hood. He felt that the Disney animated features no longer had any of the charm that defined the classics. Despite what critics, animators or anyone at Disney thought of it, Robin Hood broke records once again and became the highest grossing animated film on initial release and one of Disney’s biggest hits at the time. This proved to Don Bluth that Disney no longer cared about what Walt would’ve wanted, it was all about profits. Plain and simple, Disney had went from the tree of fine family entertainment to an assembly line, just getting by.

Something had to be done at this point...

Part 2...