I still haven’t come to terms with the audacity it must have taken to make this movie. It was the forties, the country was at war, and Walt Disney produced a two hour cartoon that wasn’t aimed at children. Further, it was split into a number of sequences which, more often then not, told no discernable story. Lastly, it showcased classical music as much as it did animation.
It tanked when it was released. Of course it did. No one in their right mind would make this movie intending to turn a profit. It’s the kind of thing you do for love. You figure that twenty years from now, maybe, hopefully, people will understand what you were trying to do and why.
Not counting the opening piece which showcases the orchestra itself, there are six sequences: The Nutcracker Suite—featuring flowers, mushrooms, and other bits of nature coming to life and dancing; The Sorcerer’s Apprentice—the Mickey Mouse magic-gone-awry bit that’s most famous; The Rite of Spring—a hugely ambitious sequence that spans the birth of the universe to the end of the dinosaurs; Pastoral Symphony—a racy number with bare-breasted centaur maids, voyeuristic cherubs, and an implied sex scene (I am not making that up); Dance of the Hours--an ostrich, hippo, alligator, and elephant ballet; and lastly Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria—where that huge, dark, freaky-ass demon summons evil spirits from out from the village below (followed by a forgettable denouement where the demons shies away from a great light and villagers carry candles into a clearing. Snore.)
Overall, of course, the animation is ridiculously good. There are parts though—a jellyfish that looks crayoned in, a T-Rex that walks like a fat man—which aren’t terrible, but stand out as pretty bad in comparison to the rest of it. Otherwise, the animators are brilliant—and they know it, so they showboat: water pours off of bodies, lava flows over a landscape, a thousand dancing flower pirouette in the wind.
As the movie begins, Leopold Stokowski—conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra—describes the intent behind marrying classic music and animation. Its purpose is to recreate the impression of seeing music live. At first you focus on the musicians, but then as your mind begins to wander the music impresses things upon you, perhaps lights and shapes to start, but soon you’ll begin to create a story. It’s a great idea, and it works in this movie. I'll confess, though, that I’ve never fantasized about waltzing lotus flowers or the reign of the dinosaurs during a live concert. Centaur maids, sure! And how! But dancing foliage? Not that I can recall.
It tanked when it was released. Of course it did. No one in their right mind would make this movie intending to turn a profit. It’s the kind of thing you do for love. You figure that twenty years from now, maybe, hopefully, people will understand what you were trying to do and why.
Not counting the opening piece which showcases the orchestra itself, there are six sequences: The Nutcracker Suite—featuring flowers, mushrooms, and other bits of nature coming to life and dancing; The Sorcerer’s Apprentice—the Mickey Mouse magic-gone-awry bit that’s most famous; The Rite of Spring—a hugely ambitious sequence that spans the birth of the universe to the end of the dinosaurs; Pastoral Symphony—a racy number with bare-breasted centaur maids, voyeuristic cherubs, and an implied sex scene (I am not making that up); Dance of the Hours--an ostrich, hippo, alligator, and elephant ballet; and lastly Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria—where that huge, dark, freaky-ass demon summons evil spirits from out from the village below (followed by a forgettable denouement where the demons shies away from a great light and villagers carry candles into a clearing. Snore.)
Overall, of course, the animation is ridiculously good. There are parts though—a jellyfish that looks crayoned in, a T-Rex that walks like a fat man—which aren’t terrible, but stand out as pretty bad in comparison to the rest of it. Otherwise, the animators are brilliant—and they know it, so they showboat: water pours off of bodies, lava flows over a landscape, a thousand dancing flower pirouette in the wind.
As the movie begins, Leopold Stokowski—conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra—describes the intent behind marrying classic music and animation. Its purpose is to recreate the impression of seeing music live. At first you focus on the musicians, but then as your mind begins to wander the music impresses things upon you, perhaps lights and shapes to start, but soon you’ll begin to create a story. It’s a great idea, and it works in this movie. I'll confess, though, that I’ve never fantasized about waltzing lotus flowers or the reign of the dinosaurs during a live concert. Centaur maids, sure! And how! But dancing foliage? Not that I can recall.
Comments
I just liked the purty colours.
I always thought, though, that someone had to be trippin' on something to make that film.
Walt was a cocaine user, I think.
I saw it at an age when my babysitter had to take me.
I maintain it was one of the warping influences of my childhood.