One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961)

I'm not sure if I'd seen One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961) all the way through before, but I had seen the live action version several times as a child, so the story was familiar. 

The Disney look changes with this movie through the use of a xeroxing technique.  Instead of crisp lines, everything looks sketchy, but rather than looking cheap or unfinished, it kind of fits with the the jazzy music and film noir-style voiceover at the beginning. 

The story of Pongo, Perdita, and their respective humans (Roger and Anita) becoming a family is quickly achieved before moving on to the real story of the anorexic-looking, chain-smoking Cruella de Vil--whose name I used to think was de Ville, as in "of the city" because she's so urbane--and her plight to skin 101 puppies to make a coat.  I have a hard time believing sweet, savvy Anita and brash, heartless Cruella were ever school friends, but that's the story we're given.

What ensues is a delightful adventure as our family's pups, a brave cat who deserves way more credit than his canine companions give him, and a gang of helpful dogs urged on by Pongo and Perdita outsmart and outmaneuver Cruella and her bumbling sidekicks.

In fact, if not for constantly being slowed down by the food-obsessed puppy "Rolly," the whole rescue mission would be about ten times easier.  Instead, they have to escape dangers such as Cruella's 30-foot car and THE WORST DRIVING IN THE HISTORY OF DRIVING.  We're talking way worse than Mr. Bean.  If skinning puppies didn't clue you in that Cruella is insane, her driving certainly will.

Despite the horrific thought of skinned puppies (which, SPOILER, does not come to be) this movie is very cute.  The idea of a secret dog (and cat and horse) organization is silly, but adorable.  Within the world of the movie, despite being largely based in realism, it somehow works--perhaps because this unbelievable force of good balances out Cruella as an unbelievable force of evil.

Unusual among Disney animated features, One Hundred and One Dalmatians features only one real song, "Cruella de Ville," which is also unusual in that it is acknowledged within the story as a song being performed (without being a lullaby), making the feature not a musical in my books.

I enjoyed this movie even with it's different musical and artistic styles.  Child-friendly but enjoyable for all ages, One Hundred and One Dalmatians is yet another Disney classic.

Sleeping Beauty (1959)

I think this was only my second time watching Sleeping Beauty (1959) all the way through since my mom bought it on VHS back in the day.  That being said, I was pleasantly surprised with the charm of this movie. All in all,  this story is a very compact romance--one of those "love at first sight" stories people either love or love to mock (except if you count when young Prince Phillip sees the infant Princess Aurora, which technically makes it second sight)--but it does the trick.

In a vaguely Shakespearean fashion, the prince and princess fall for one another, neither knowing the other is their royally arranged fiancée, through a case of mistaken identity. This is all cute but predictable.  In fact, Sleeping Beauty as a whole is cute.  It's very similar to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937), but that's okay.  You've got the cute forest creatures that understand English (but don't speak it) and seem glad to interact with our heroine and the magical medieval unspecified yet clearly European setting.

Unlike Snow White, however, we have the addition of fairies.  Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather, while visually confusing (shouldn't Flora wear green?), each have distinct and charming personalities.  Their bumbling, chaotic parenting leads to some laughs, especially as they fight over the color of our heroine's dress. 

Maleficent is one of the most iconic Disney villains, and certainly the most recognizable villainess, even if people can't always pronounce her name.  She's even getting her own movie soon.  

Prince Phillip has a few humorous lines, but is largely there to literally slay the dragon and rescue the damsel.  His horse, Samson, is the first in a string of Disney horses with real personality--many of which also act very dog-like at times.  This is something I love about the Disney Renaissance, especially, but I would say Samson is the first example of this.  Major from Cinderella (1950) just doesn't have that same je ne sais quoi, and I think it's because he doesn't look much like a real horse.  Of course there are many other animated Disney horses, but the others that qualify for my "awesome Disney horse" list are as follows: Achilles from Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996); Pegasus from Hercules (1997); Khan from Mulan (1998); Maximus from Tangled (2010); and Sven from Frozen (2013).  Yes, I'm counting Sven as a horse.  He's close enough.  Phillipe from Beauty and the Beast (1991) probably deserves a spot, too.  I can't explain why, but I just really like what Disney did with these horses... and the pegasus and the reindeer.

Our VHS had a special feature on it at the end, discussing the artwork.  I thought the scenery in this movie was very weird and simple in its geometric shapes until learning that the artwork was made to imitate Medieval tapestry art, which emphasizes vertical and horizontal planes, etc., etc.  Once I heard that, it made so much more sense to me and I retrospectively appreciated the style.

Another thing that makes Sleeping Beauty's style unique among Disney movies is the recycling--or, I should say, adaptation--of pre-existing music.  The tunes for all of those iconic songs are actually from the Tchaikovsky Sleeping Beauty ballet, which is kind of awesome, although somehow, I don't think the drinking song the kings sing was from the ballet.

All in all, this is a fun movie with more magic and action than most princess movies.  I don't know why it took me so long to write this review, but I think it may be because there are so many facets to this movie that are worth discussing.

If you like Stephanie's Movie Musings...

Please check out my more in-depth reviews at cinemasteph.blogspot.com and my review of Gravity (2013) on YouTube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZp-Nstjsh8 (more to come!!!).

Lady and the Tramp (1955)

Boy meets girl, boy offends girl, boy rescues girl, boy gets girl into a sticky situation, girl snubs boy, boy risks everything to save the day. This is Lady and the Tramp (1955) in a nutshell: a classic romance with one of those loves that crosses class boundaries. Forget about dogs, and what you have is just what the title tells you: a finely-bred Lady, influenced by her social upbringing and her well-meaning but haughty neighbors, and a street-wise, flirtatious Tramp from literally the wrong side of the tracks.  These two, against all odds, seem made for one another.  Their spaghetti date is one of cinema's iconic romantic scenes, and even pops up today in shows such as Glee.

Now forget forgetting about dogs. Even as a cat person, I find this movie cute.  While I would never choose a cocker spaniel for myself, Lady as a clumsy puppy is undeniably precious.  Then she grows up and I have to wonder why she ever stopped tripping over her ears.  Ooh, ooh, idea: maybe she should take flying lessons from Dumbo!  Now the Tramp is a mutt, but nearly every other dog in the movie has a very specific breed.  In fact, a large chunk of the humor (or offense, depending on the viewer) comes from associating breeds with ethnic stereotypes.  Of course, a lot of the humor would be lost on someone who doesn't know their breeds; you have the Scottish terrier, the German dachshund, the Mexican chihuahua, the English bulldog, the Russian borzoi--and of course the Siamese cats, with their buck teeth and their poor command of the English language.

I was going to say that the idea of the pound dogs singing to cover the sound of the dachshund digging was borrowed from The Great Escape (1963), but seeing as that movie didn't come out for another eight years, this is obviously not the case.  For the most part, though, the dogs act like dogs... dogs that can talk to each other.  The "dog" humor is subtle, more along the lines of Bambi learning about his surroundings than actual jokes.  Their understanding of humans is the topic of nearly every conversation, and the way Lady knows her owners only as "Jim Dear" and "Darling" shows that the writers put some thought into this dog's perspective.  They chase chickens for fun and have to face muzzles and dog catchers.  You know--dog stuff.

As for the music, "Bella Notte," "The Siamese Cat Song," and "He's a Tramp," are memorable, but that's about it.  There is a weird kind of spoken internal monologue Lady does to music, called "What is a Baby?, but it reminds me too much of "Can You Read My Mind?" from Superman (1978).  At the beginning and end there is also Christmas music, but you can hardly call it a Christmas movie since the whole thing takes place over several months (or is it just one year?)--enough time to have a creepy-looking baby, anyway.  Seriously.  They could have animated the baby.  They should have animated the baby, just as they did Jim Dear, Darling, and every other character.  But did they?  No.  What you get instead is an absolutely still image of a baby's head that looks like it was cut out of greeting card.  Why doesn't it move?!

Speaking of babies, I feel I should point out that this is one of the most sexually suggestive Disney animated movies.  Think about it--Lady and the Tramp stay out all night, which could be harmless or not.  I personally don't think they did the deed, but how can one be sure?  Lady has to endure a walk of shame--she is literally in the doghouse--after spending the day behind bars and learning of all the Tramp's previous girlfriends from a dog who looks as much like a hooker as a dog can, only to be proposed to by her friends out of pity and in an effort to save her reputation.  Hmm... how scandalous...

Now Lady and the Tramp, like Alice in Wonderland (1951), has no real villain.  Sure, there's the rat that for some reason likes attacking babies, but it's appearance is really random, more like a force of nature than a character.  Sure, there's Aunt Sarah, who clearly hates dogs, but her dislike of our heroes is due to a lack of understanding, not evil intentions.  Sure, there are the Siamese cats and the angry street dogs, but after their respective scenes, they never reappear.  Even the dog catchers can't be blamed.  More along the lines of Bambi (1942), this is a story of understanding life, love, and the world (a world without magic, I might add).

Going back to the Siamese cats, they can be summed up by looking at this line from their song: "Do you seeing that thing swimming round and round?  Maybe we could reaching in and make it drown."
1. Their English is atrocious.  Seeing?  Reaching?  Really?
2. They are not only curious, but murderous... at least when it comes to potential food.
3. They are dumb.  You can't drown a fish!
The good thing is, parts 2 and 3 could be attributed to their being cats rather than to their being Siamese, leaving only their buck-toothed appearance, poor grammar, and the style of the song as stereotypes.  Either way, they're among the most memorable parts of the movie.

With a classic love story, adorable animals, and an ending that will make you first incredibly sad, then incredibly happy, I approve of Lady and the Tramp.  It's not the type of Disney movie you want to watch on repeat like the Disney Renaissance movies, and it has its un-PC moments, but it also has a depth of emotion that, as with Bambi, is cathartic.  I enjoyed this movie as a child and I enjoyed it even more now that I can read deeper into it.

Peter Pan (1953)

Having not seen Peter Pan (1953) in several years, it was pretty cool seeing it again. It was among my childhood favorites, and the years have not changed that. That's not to say that I didn't notice new things this time around. For instance, I had forgotten the extent of Peter's conceit. It's not until the tender moment with Tink in the tree (a moment that makes me cry every time) that Peter's shell of bravado is cracked. For the most part, I found him a much less desirable person to spend a day with than I had previously thought. Still, his aerial acrobatics and cockiness provide entertainment where Wendy tries to hold back the fun with her practical wisdom.

Another thing that stood out to me as an adult was the portrayal of the "red men."  Never as a child did I think for an instant that the Native Americans in Peter Pan were a reflection of real native peoples.  I honestly don't think any man, woman, or child could make that mistake; for one thing, they are distorted almost beyond recognition.  The cartoons are misshapen, and two of them in particular--one being the chief, himself--are ugly, with horrid, gravelly bass voices. Their movements are also very cartoony, their combined word choice and sign language stereotypical to the max, and of course the song, "What Makes the Red Man Red?" is decades out of fashion if you're a follower of PC trends.  Tiger Lily is the only "humanized" one, and she makes for an awesome character despite her small role.

BUT in the movie's defense I will say this: as I see it, the inhabitants of Neverland are not meant to be real people. They are intended to be the creations of young turn-of-the-century children's imaginations come to life, and for THAT reason and that reason alone I am able to accept this portrayal. I know that no tribe of Native Americans was ever like that. You know that no tribe of Native Americans was ever like that. But did little English boys and girls in the early 1900s? Probably not. I know there will be people who disagree on this matter, but I've tried to explain my opinion as best I can.

Moving on...

This is a movie of slapstick humor. Mr. Smee and Captain Hook are a great comic duo.  The Captain himself is quite (unintentionally) comical for a villain.  He pops in and out of the crocodile's mouth like a jack-in-the-box and he even engages in a bit of Looney Tunes-style physics.  Overall, he is among the most hapless Disney villains, being foiled by Peter nine times out of ten and having a phobia of ticking clocks so strong that his mustache actually twitches in time.

Once again we get our bitchy characters, this time in the form of the jealous mermaids. Not super important. Nor are the Lost Boys, really. They're just a mob of boys in weird animal suits. Which reminds me... what's the deal with Nana?  A dog (with eyebrows) that acts as a nanny? I'd ask Mr. Barrie, but unfortunately he's dead. A few other things that I never really got: the "I'm a codfish" joke, how the seagull gets its butt shaved without noticing, and (until this time) Mr. Darling's need for cuff links and his weird shirt front thing.

What else...... oh yeah, the music!  The orchestral theme to Peter Pan is one that I have always been able to recall at will just as most people know the Star Wars or James Bond themes by heart. Of course there's the iconic "You Can Fly!" and "Following the Leader," and the orchestral "Never Smile at a Crocodile" and the pirates seem to like singing... the other songs are more forgettable.

I think that about covers it.  I enjoyed Peter Pan as a child and I still enjoy it today.

Alice in Wonderland (1951)

I think this was only my second time ever seeing Alice in Wonderland (1951), so it was like-new to me. What I found was a fun, nonsensical frolic through a dream-like world. The whole plot is driven by Alice's curiosity. There's no reason for her to follow the White Rabbit, and nobody really listens long enough to help her achieve this goal, but this objective drives Alice further and further into the "curiouser and curiouser" world of Wonderland until she realizes she would rather be home where things make sense.

Everything she encounters is a little bit frightening at first, except maybe the door knob.  There are so many odd characters and creatures, and running into them is really what makes up the story: the White Rabbit; the door knob; the dodo; Tweedledee and Tweedledum; the Cheshire Cat; the Mad Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse; the Caterpillar; a chorus of flowers; a newt who's a chimney sweep; various creatures which combine household items and birds or dogs (the only creatures that didn't seem to fit in, I thought); and of course the card soldiers, hedgehogs, flamingos, and the King and Queen of Hearts. There are probably others I'm forgetting; as I said, meeting strange people and creatures is what drives the plot.

Instead of having a traditional antagonist, Alice is thwarted and emotionally hurt by the obstacles of the world she's in and by the lunatics she meets more than anything. The flowers are mean--along the lines of the elephants in Dumbo (1941)--but only the Queen of Hearts is really vicious. However, despite all her screeches of "Off with her head!" it would hardly be fair to call the queen a real villain, as she only turns up at the end of the story and seems to treat Alice the same as she treats everyone else. As with Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland (2010), the Cheshire Cat is my favorite character from the movie, although the Caterpillar is a close second ("A-whoooooo aaaaare a-youuuuuu?").

I really enjoyed this story the second time around. It may be super weird--and they do use the "standing on your head" gag twice--but overall the music, art, and story are cute and fun.

Cinderella (1950)

As I was watching Cinderella (1950) for the first time in at least a decade, it occurred to me that Cinderella has to be the most mild-mannered heroine imaginable, a fact that bugged me throughout the movie. Without a rebellious bone in her body, her only "strength" seems to be her incredible patience. Those who mock Disney movies for singing animals and superficial role models must be thinking mainly of this film, but I suppose my main beef is with the fairy tale source which teaches that external beauty wins handsome princes.

Another thing that bugged me considerably was the devolution of the artwork. All of the animals up to this point have been pretty realistic, but in Cinderella we get the evil Lucifer who is shaped more like a pig than a cat and Bruno the dog and Major the horse who are misshapen, old bags of bones. The mice are cute, but why are they wearing clothes? Oh, that's right, because our heroine is so bored (and boring) that she spends her spare time sewing tiny outfits for mice and birds, her only friends.  As if that's not bad enough, for the first time we have animals who can speak to humans, and vice-versa. Are they really speaking, or is Cinderella just cray-cray? It almost drove me insane trying to understand their speech, but I suppose the only words you really need to hear are "Cinderelly," "Gus-Gus," and "Lucify." Which makes me think, if the mice can talk, why not Lucifer or Bruno? The only explanation is that the girl is loony. What about the talking crows in Dumbo (1941) or Jiminy Cricket and Honest John, the talking fox, in Pinocchio (1940), you ask? While the crows do wear clothing, so do the rest of the circus animals, so that seems to fit. Besides, there is still no communication between animal and human. The same goes for the Pinocchio group, who only ever talk to the wooden boy and the Blue Fairy (already fantasy elements), whereas I get the feeling that the only magic in the Cinderella world occurs at the hands of the Fairy Godmother.

Another thing that bugs me is that we get misshapen human characters in Cinderella: the king, the step-sisters, the grand duke, the little town crier dude... they're much more cartoon-y than the humans in the previous works. Just to be inconsistent, though, Prince Charming, Cinderella, the Fairy Godmother, and the Lady Tremaine look perfectly real.

Basically, I feel that while it is regarded as one of the most iconic Disney films, Cinderella is far from my favorite in terms of story and character design. Cinderella is completely reliant on mice and her fairy godmother, who help her because she cries. Not the most inspirational tale, and she's not even witty. Ok, I'm done with my Cinderella bashing.