Animation at Its Best
If you thought that Walt was pushing the envelope with the previous 2 films, you ain't seen nothing yet. Starting as a spectacular short to boost the flagging appeal of Mickey Mouse, the project soon became too expensive to justify as anything but a feature, so the theme was expanded upon with additional forays into the world of sight and sounds it its purest forms. Fantasia was perhaps Walt's most perfect realization of animation as an art form, not only in expressing as-yet unmatched beauty on film, but marrying it with another, more accepted and established form of art- classical music. In a way, this was simply an extension of the previously popular musical shorts and a precursor to the package films of the later 40s, but altogether, Fantasia is way beyond that level. The staggering quality and effort put into making this an altogether unique experience- culminating in the doomed Fantasound experiment is so impressive it makes me weep to find it so underappreciated. For yes, in 1940, Fantasia was released to lukewarm audiences and financial disaster- sending the studio reeling to the edge of bankruptcy and officially obliterating any gains from the only big success to date. At the time, Disney was just another one-hit wonder.
Of course the only thing I have to wonder about is why people could be so indifferent to this film. Classical music has an air of snobbery and pretension to it- more due to the people who listen to it than the music itself. There are few styles that can translate more universally than classical- whether it be relaxing, invigorating or frightening. Even in contemporary music, you can find references and inspirations drawn from classical compositions. But, on to the movie! Fantasia is one of my earliest memories- and I believe it is because Walt hit upon a basic truth- you don't even need to have a grasp of the English language- or any language whatsoever to be moved by this film.
We open as though this is a real concert feature- just a title card and curtain before revealing the orchestra warming up. No credits at all in the film- an only in the Disney canon. After an intro by Deems Taylor (more on him later), we delve into the first song, The Toccata and Fuge by Bach, a piece we are told that is music for its own sake. It's a bold and overpowering piece, one that is well suited to start the program, not only for its familiarity, but to get the blood pumping. The transition from performers to more and more abstract imagery helps settle us into the mindset of the film. I do want to give kudos to Disney for making references to what was going on in the fine arts world- perhaps it is not all that cutting edge- there was a much more strikingly abstract version plotted out by Oscar Fischinger, but you know Disney- he has a certain way of seeing things- and this version is not without his charms.
The Nutcracker Suite is probably the most visually impressive of the pieces, and is coupled with the most famous ballet by Tchaikovsky. Anyone who has seen the ballet may be expecting lots of snow and candies, but this is in fact a tribute to nature and the changing of the seasons. There is such a variety of techniques, from drybrush wings to airbrushed goldfish fins tracked over multiple times to give iridescence to handpainted snowflakes spinning in front of the camera (incidentally, if you ever have been curious about how they did all the phenomenally amazing tricks in this movie, many of which were lost for decades, you must see the Fantasia Legacy DVD). The mushrooms are adorable, the Russian Flowers make you want to dance, the fish are so seductive, and the snow scene is so full of joy and exuberance it brings tears to my eyes.
With an adaption of Paul Dukas' symphonic poem The Sorcerer's apprentice, itself based on the poem by Goethe, we come to the heart of the film. And I gotta say, I don't really care for it all that much. Although the whole project was birthed from this core, it feels out of place- maybe it's the recognisability of Mickey in his cartooney glory when the rest of the film has a decidedly more artsy animation feel. Plus it was way harsh having someone as sweet as Mickey clashingly kill the broom as the world turned a deathly gray. But for all my childhood trauma, I can still appreciate it for the resurgence of popularity of the updated Mickey and admit I probably would have liked it a lot better had it been a spectacular standalone, but then we wouldn't be having this discussion....
Igor Stravinsky's Rite of Spring famously caused rioting and general dissatisfation upon its premier ballet. And to be fair, if I was a part of crusty upperclass society, I'd be pretty ticked if I got tricked into thinking the ballet I was getting ready to sleep through turned out to be so noisy and chaotic, both in musical and visual forms. Stravinsky is not for every pallette, I do not particularly care for this piece myself and much prefer the vastly more melodic Fantasia 2000 choice of The Firebird. That being said, the best tactical decision made in this film was to pair the primitive sounds with exciting primitive life- dinosaurs. It's not terribly concerned with keeping true to facts, but the dinos are exciting.
The sweeping scope of the intro, whirling through empty space before centering on the desolate beginnings of our planet. It's very grand in theory, and again you should really watch the legacy dvd to see the care that was put into the animation of things that had never been conceived before. However, it reaaaaally tends to drag and I often skip to the action. There, it picks up and I love the blaring "DUN DUN DUN"s! as the Rex triumphs over his prey. Though the highs are signifigant, there are a lot of things about this feature I am not a fan of.
Against popular opinion, the Pastoral Symphony by Beethoven is one of my favorites. It would be best not to get me started on how amazing Beethoven is, so let's leave it at: he's freaking awesome. And I really love classical mythology, so I can't complain about the setting either. It's not really meant to be some kind of narrative as much as a vignette, a large moving painting that changes moods according to the music. Here's what I would say is the biggest and free-est exploration of color in the film- with rainbow landscapes and characters in every shade imaginible. Which unfortunately ties in with the big poo-poo that butchered the fun of this short. 1940s film still had a lot of racism in it, especially when things were being run by a lot of white men (which was basically everything mainstream). And it creeps up in no less than Fantasia, with a caricatured centaur known as Sunflower. After a few rereleases, tastes had definitely changed and since 1969 she has been erased, leaving gaps and jumps in the animation and music, some releases being more obvious than others. While I don't condone racism by any stretch of the imagination, I do think it does more harm than good to take the image out. Not only does it smack of an obvious cover-up and kill the quality in places, but it's untrue to the period this film was made. Yeah, the actions of the animators weren't right, but they represented what was going on in the day. Trying to erase that is like saying slavery never happened or that good people couldn't still have some misguided beliefs. It happened and that is an integral part of our history: one we should remember and learn from rather than completely ignore. I would much rather see something fully fleshed out and flawed than a piecemeal catering to the sensitivity of contemporary culture.
Ponchielli's Dance of the Hours may be forever connected with the Hello Mudda song in my mind (oh you know you were thinking it too). And just like the song, it's quite clever and funny. The juxtaposition of very awkward animals dancing ballet only gets more and more exaggerated as the sequence continues, and its pretty inspired. The hippos are the best work, with their fleshy bodies ambling and jiggling about, but I really love the crocodile. He is seductive, but at the same time you know just under the surface he is dying to devour his dance partner- what an odd charmer. In the midst of considerably more pretentious peices, it's nice to have a moment of Tex Avery-style anarchy to perk you up again.
Night on Bald Mountain and Ave Maria- Deliciously dark and radiantly pure, the juxtaposition of these two pieces could not have been more perfect. Bald Mountain is a massive, seething display of power. I'd say here the animation is the most complete realization of the music in the film- it's really overwhelming and terrifying, culmination in Chernabog as the embodiment of our worst nightmares. I feel a little battered by the climax, but it's the perfect setup. At the height of his theme, a single sound and glimmer of light shatters the chaos. The moment is quite beautiful as the lone voice in the terror, so low it is barely heard, breaks the spell and dispels the darkness of evil. Slowly, the voice grows and is accompanied by many lights and voices until it breaks out into the full theme of Ave Maria and we come from the cave into a brilliant, hopeful dawn. If there was no other reason for the multiplane camera, a device used to create depth but notorious for it's difficulty, it was justified by that massive tracking shot. Quite an inspiring ending to any film.
Quick word on the interstitials, which I greatly prefer as serious bits of information versus insipid comic interludes. I actually have never seen the restored version, which had to sacrifice Deems Taylor's voice to restore the originally scripted dialogue, but I am gonna go out on a limb and say its an improvement on the drastically edited version I grew up with. As for Deems Taylor- sadly, his casting is lost on us. The 40s would have been really familiar with him as a radio host among other things and he was the perfect sort of person to introduce to the public something as difficult to digest as "fine art" animation and classical music. He was both familiar and cultured, which I am sure means snobby, but I'd liken him to Ebert- a person of fine taste that most people can recognize and respect his opinion. And then there's the soundtrack- I'm not entirely sure I grasp the point of it, something to do with a stylization of sound waves, but neither do I find it annoying. It's amusing, if a little pandering, and does the job of cleansing the palette, as do all the intermediary stints.
After alllllll that, I am completely worn out! I've gotta get a handle on the length of these reviews before they become recaps. Soooooo, overall concensus: Fantasia was yet another massive push of innovation for Disney. Not only did it explore the relationship of commercial animation and fine art, but it resulted in so many advancements in special effects technology- I will never get over how many things were done with no computer aid whatsoever. And I would say a lot of people would agree with me when saying Fantasia was an amazing achievement, and totally watch-able film. So what was it that doomed Fantasia and killed it's extended roadshow in the cradle? Some say it was Disney's own drive to make whatever kind of film he wanted, despite the tastes of the public he was asking to fund his projects. While that kind of disregard can certainly make great art, it won't keep you in business long, as we will continually learn. The official company answer is the close of foreign distribution with the onset of WWII sealed Fantasia's fate. I think it was a little of both: with less resources, Disney was gonna have to swallow the hard pill that says you can't always draw what you want. But if you're lucky sometimes, a little elephant might just fly in and give you what everyone needs.
My Rating- 10/10 **********
