Wednesday, 29 January 2014

5. Bambi (1942)




After the disappointing Dumbo, a film that was made to be as simple and basic as possible, resulting in a movie lacking in any substance, Disney moved on to Bambi, a film that can quite easily act as a mirror to its predecessor. Bambi is also a simple film, but it is not lacking in substance, it has a depth and heart that was completely missing in Dumbo. While both films feature animal casts and explore the issues of childhood, confidence and motherhood, Bambi does something Dumbo never quite achieves – it grows up. Dumbo never escapes childhood, both the character and the film itself remain childish throughout; everything is loud and colourful, the humour is all extreme slapstick, the characters are one-dimensional cartoons that serve a singular purpose. Bambi could have easily been a cute, silly movie about a clumsy deer and a cast of funny woodland critters, but it is so much more than that; Bambi is a film about life and so, it, along with its protagonist, must live and grow and age. The result is one of Disney’s most mature and interesting films, which takes an honest and not always optimistic view towards life and nature.

The difference between the art style of Dumbo and Bambi is as clear as night and day – Dumbo is vibrant and broad, using a lot of bright colours and lacking any detail in the backgrounds; Bambi is soft and careful, its light, muted colours and picturesque woodland backgrounds are very reminiscent of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. This fits the calm and serene feel of the film perfectly and, appropriately, during the few moments of action, the art style changes – the colours become bright and shocking, the backgrounds lacking detail to the point where they are almost scribbled, in order to represent the chaos and confusion of the situation and the inability of the animals to distinguish their surroundings. The animation is fantastic, but once again, controlled; besides the character of the owl, the other characters are mostly restrained in their movements and not as wild or over-the-top as Disney characters tend to be. Again, this is because the film is calmer and slower than most Disney movies – as the central focus of Bambi is the passing of time and aging, it must be allowed to move slowly and carefully, to stop and smell the roses, rather than just rush by. The control in the animation is very impressive, the realism of the animals’ movements, particularly Bambi, who finds difficulty in balancing on his spindly legs and often must awkwardly shift his movement in order to avoid falling over, is quite remarkable indeed; again, the animation is not as lively as usual, but that is a deliberate and appropriate choice. The Disney animators truly show they are masters of their craft, they know exactly what they are doing and when to use each tool at their disposal at the ideal time.




‘Ask me how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll centre of a Tootsie Pop I fucking DARE you’


The narrative in Bambi is a little difficult to ascertain, on the one hand it is somewhat lacking in any story and is simply just a series of disconnected events, as has been the case in several of the earlier Disney movies, particularly Dumbo; in some ways, Bambi seems to have the weakest narrative of them all. But, of all the Disney films so far, Bambi uses this method best and upon closer inspection, its story is actually a strong and familiar, if subtle one – Bambi is a film about life and all that means. It is about childhood, family, growth, adolescence, friendship, love, fear, death, birth, nature and the circle of life; it captures not just the experiences of wildlife in the forest, but what it truly means to live in this world. The pacing is almost flawless, the film expertly charts an entire generation of life and all that entails in barely over sixty minutes and still manages to seem like it is taking its time. Almost every scene of the film seems impossibly both superfluous and vital, moments such as Bambi learning to talk or ice skate seem irrelevant on their own, but when the film is viewed as a whole, all these moments are revealed to be essential to the overall narrative. The film never forgets what it is about, though it does have a large and exciting climax, it constantly stops to slow down and show us each individual moment of Bambi’s growth along the way. As a result, when the film ends with Bambi a fully grown adult with children of his own, you do not feel cheated; even though the audience has seen Bambi for the first time as a newborn baby only sixty minutes ago, every scene demonstrates him gaining a new experience as he slowly grows and comes to understand life, when the film ends with his growth into an adult, it feels earned. 

The final scene is a perfect end to the story - just as the film started with Bambi’s father, the Great Prince of the Forest, standing atop a hill and watching the birth of his son, the film ends with him stood next to a fully grown Bambi on that same hill as they watch the birth of Bambi’s children. Bambi’s father turns to him and gives him a knowing look, after a few seconds, he turns and walks away; Bambi watches his father leave, then turns and steps forward to take his place atop the hill. In that brief moment, everything is said – the Great Prince’s time has come to an end, new life has been brought into the forest and it is time for Bambi to take his father’s place, the Great Prince looks at Bambi and knows that he is ready. As his father walks away from his throne, Bambi looks back at him, unsure if he really is ready; can he truly replace his father, the great deer who so many respected? Is he really prepared for the responsibility of leadership and fatherhood? After this moment of hesitation, Bambi accepts it is time to move on, he steps forward to claim his place as the new Great Prince of the Forest and the cycle of life continues. All of this is so well communicated in a few moments, with limited animation; no words are needed, we understand everything just from that single glance from father to son. What a beautiful ending to a wonderful film.



‘You think there’s any chance this will happen pretty much all over again in 50 years except with lions instead?’
‘No, that’d be dumb’


The characters occupy a similarly contradictory space of being both simple and complex; on the one hand, the characters are hardly multi-faceted or rounded, but they do experience a great deal of growth and development, they don’t exactly do very much and even the most prominent of the side characters such as Thumper and Flower don’t appear that often throughout the movie, making it seem as if the characters take a backseat to the atmosphere and narrative, yet this is a very character-based movie. It is a difficult situation to put into words, but either way, I feel like the characterisation in Bambi is a lot stronger than in its predecessors. Bambi continues to follow the style of the protagonists before him, for the most part; he is kind-hearted, innocent and naive, mostly led by others and by his environment, on the surface he does not seem to have much depth. But there is something about him that works much better than Dumbo or Pinocchio, again, this success is likely attributed to the fact that Bambi actually ages and grows; the core of what we know to be Bambi is always there, but he does learn and change, not only in appearance but also character – he grows right up until the final scene, where he develops into a confident and responsible leader and father. Again, this final development is revealed to the audience without even using dialogue, demonstrating just how skilled the writers are when it comes to subtle character development. The film charts Bambi’s life and his growth from child to adult, so his character is very important; thankfully, Disney finally succeeded in making an interesting protagonist – Bambi is hardly a complex or challenging hero, but he is at least likeable and reasonably well developed and that in itself is quite a bit better than Disney’s previous attempts at protagonists. 

The other characters are also quite well created, Thumper and Flower realistically capture the attitude and mannerisms of young children and later, they too grow and change like Bambi. Bambi’s mother serves as a guide who teaches Bambi (and the audience) about the forest and helps him develop; she is brimming with kind, soft, maternal love, but is prepared to be firm and serious when she needs to be. The Great Prince of the Forest completely encapsulates the concept of fatherhood and exudes influence, commanding respect but, also, a little fear from his son. The Great Prince barely has three lines of dialogue and so this is mostly achieved by his animation alone, his proud, tall posture and slow, controlled movements; another point to the animators that they can create such a strong character with so little.




Baby wants to thump, baby wants to thump


Perhaps most interesting is the fact that the antagonist, if there truly is any at all, is simply man himself – ‘man’ is a terrifying word in the world of Bambi, whenever it is uttered, animals shake and cower. Like the Great Prince, an atmosphere around this “character” is created with so little, even less here, as we never even see or hear man, he is simply a concept; as a faceless villain, man is even more frightening, we never see the face of evil, just its devastating effects. This leads to many tense and honestly, genuinely quite scary moments throughout the film as the animals struggle to survive in spite of their faceless enemy; one in particular that left an impression on me is when a group of birds are hiding in the tall grass to avoid the hunters. One bird grows progressively more and more frightened that the hunters will find them and decides to make a break for it and fly away, the other birds try to warn it not to, as the hunter will surely spot and shoot it if it goes out into the open; the other bird seems to know this is true, but is too frightened to listen to reason. The situation is tense to the point of being suffocating and the sense of fear and claustrophobia continues to grow thanks to the building rhythm of the music, three strong chords that come faster and faster as man inches closer and closer. You really feel the desperation of that bird, which is slowly driven mad by its fear, finally crying ‘I can’t stand it any longer!’ before it flies away and is of course, shot. The scene is honestly quite horrific and almost feels like it’s out of a horror movie; if the central theme of Bambi is life and growth, then man represents the opposite: death and destruction. 

This leads to the darkest and most pessimistic moments of Bambi, and there are a few besides this one; Bambi is mostly lacking in the whimsy and magic of the earlier Disney films, while still hopeful and sweet by all means, it is far more serious and grounded and so, does not shy away from tragedy. The most famous of these moments is the death of Bambi’s mother; Bambi has little time to mourn for her, there are no last words and no final goodbye, she dies unceremoniously off-screen and Bambi is simply told by his father (quite coldly, I might add) ‘Your mother can’t be with you any more.’ The harsh reality of this scene is shocking to see in a Disney movie and at the time a great deal of audiences and critics rejected it, but I believe this  is a naive attitude; to fully serve Bambi’s theme as a story about life, the film must acknowledge the seemingly senseless tragedies that populate it. In life, not everything that happens is fair or righteous, we do not always get to say goodbye, no-one gets to live forever and some die long before their time; Bambi is mature enough to accept these truths, grim as they may be, and refuses to shy away from them, it has a sense of integrity about its portrayal of woodland life and so rejects the idea of sugar coating it. For this, I have a great deal of respect; clearly, despite the success of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Disney had not quite shaken off the misconception that animation was “kid’s stuff” and continued to rail against audiences who refused to accept maturity and realism in an animated film. Perhaps it is not the death of Bambi’s mother that repulsed audiences, but rather, the fact that we are responsible for it; Bambi holds a mirror up to its audience, it shows how destructive man can be towards nature and for reasons as petty as sport. I don’t know if Disney intended to explicitly criticise hunting here, or was simply trying to fairly acknowledge all aspects of a deer’s life, including the fact that hunters are a constant danger they must face. Either way, the film’s depiction of man is a strong and fearless one and I certainly don’t think it would be unreasonable to take the film’s message as, at the very least, a request for us to take a look at ourselves and consider being a little more respectful towards life and nature.



Who would have thought Birdemic 3 would actually be scary?


The film is, unfortunately, a little let down by its music; though the orchestral score is good and used well, with the rhythm of the music often matching Bambi’s movements and creating a fitting atmosphere for each scene, the songs fall pretty flat. I’m not so sure Bambi needed songs, but I suppose Disney felt obliged to make it a musical, as this is what they were known for; this leaves the few songs it does have feeling a little out of place. “Little April Showers” is a pretty nice song, nothing special but it’s at least quite fun to listen to; I think there are only about two other songs in the film and I honestly can’t remember how they go at all, they are very uninspired, don’t have much to do with the plot and hardly feel necessary. If I had to guess, I’d say the songs are possibly supposed to encapsulate the feeling of each season and represent the progression from one to the next and set an atmosphere for the next section of the film, but if this is their intent, I don’t think they are particularly successful. It hardly ruins the movie or anything, but this is pretty disappointing and does affect my view of the film as a whole, if only by a little; like I said, I would have preferred if there simply had been no songs at all, rather than this, but what can you do.




I’m out of dumb jokes so here’s a picture of a baby skunk awwwwww you guys it’s so cute you guys awwww



Bambi is a film without agenda or bias, only truth – it strives to portray life as accurately as possible, from its happiest moments to its harshest and in my mind, it more than achieves its goal. There is a quiet dignity to Bambi, it is not loud, flashy or showy, it does not need larger-than-life characters, goofy slapstick, silly songs or extreme animation to hold your attention; that is not to say that Disney films that use these things are bad, or even that Bambi is the best of them all, there is just something I respect about its ability to stand on its simple story alone, without any crutches. It may not be the most exciting or complex of the Disney films, but it doesn’t need to be, it is elegant in its simplicity and never cheapens itself or betrays its intent. Bambi is ultimately a story of maturity and so, aptly, it stands proudly as one of the most mature films that Disney has ever produced.

Other Thoughts

  • One rare misstep that really pulls you out of the movie is that after the incredibly dark and sad scene where Bambi’s mother dies and he walks off with his father, it just transitions to this incredibly bright and happy song about birds in love! The transition is actually so ridiculously jarring its hilarious.


‘Well I guess I have to accept that my mother’s dead, years of grief and mourning await me as I try to make sense of this meaningless trage- OH LOOK BIRDIES YAAAAY’

  • I don’t know why but this is the funniest thing in the world to me.


The most amazing shot in film history



8/10

Next Week: Saludos Amigos!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds







Wednesday, 22 January 2014

4. Dumbo (1941)



Though both Pinocchio and Fantasia were critical successes and, particularly in the example of the latter, huge creative steps forward for both Disney and animation in general, they were financial disasters. After suffering these heavy losses, Disney needed a hit; they decided to scale back their scope and budget and make a more simplistic and basic story that would hopefully be a guaranteed money maker. The result was Dumbo and while it was not exactly a smash hit, it did successfully turn a much needed profit for Disney; unfortunately, that’s really all that Dumbo succeeded in doing. While Fantasia is difficult to critique or discuss because it is so different, experimental and abstract, Dumbo is difficult to talk about for the exact opposite reasons – it is so basic, unoriginal and lacking much of a story or identity, that there is really not much for me to say, because it says so little itself. That is not to say it is terrible, but after the groundbreaking Fantasia, it certainly comes off as a disappointing follow-up; regardless, let’s just jump right in.

For the first time, Disney does not take a step forward with their animation and perhaps might even stumble back a little here. The animation is definitely not as good as Fantasia, but considering that film relied entirely on its visual style and Dumbo returns to more conventional narrative techniques, that can be forgiven; however, the animation is also arguably not as good as Pinocchio, or even really Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It’s not worse, exactly, it’s just a lot more basic; the movement is still fluid and expressive, but there is much less life to the animation and quite a lot less going on in general. Disney usually takes the opportunity to have its characters move as much as possible and often in strange and over-the-top ways, so that they can show off their animation skills and creativity; in stark contrast to this, most of the characters in Dumbo seem to move as little as possible and are much less bouncy and energetic in their movements, there is certainly a lot less to look at, making it hard for the film to hold the audience’s attention. The art design is also a lot more bare-bones than previous Disney titles, the backgrounds are bland and lacking detail, mostly just empty fields and skies or maybe a few tents and carts – the beautiful, hand crafted backgrounds and careful attention to detail are sorely missed, here. The character design is mostly pretty basic as well, the humans are stock characters that require little imagination to design or imagine: clowns, ring masters, they all look exactly how you’d expect; some, such as the workers, aren’t even fully drawn, details like fingers, eyes, noses and mouths are left out in an attempt to keep the budget small. This leaves the characters mostly looking dull and lifeless. Dumbo and Timothy Mouse don’t look too bad, they’re certainly not too detailed but they look like suitable Disney protagonists; unfortunately, they might look a little too much like previous ones. Dumbo is basically Pinocchio as an elephant, the wide blue eyes and open grin, the prominent nose, right down to the little yellow hat; maybe I’m stretching a little here, but to me this just represents a lack of care or originality that is prevalent throughout the film.


Seriously, they all look like Morph

There’s even less to say about the story, which basically isn’t there; like Snow White, there is not much of a cohesive narrative, so much as just a bunch of different scenes happening that are weakly tied together. Most of the first half bombs along with one seemingly random scene after another that have little explanation or dialogue; there’s nothing wrong with telling a story visually and letting the audience figure things out for themselves, but personally, I don’t think the film really succeeds in doing so, nor do I think it especially intended to do so to begin with. Rather, it is simply an indication of how irrelevant the central “plot” really is to the film that the first half can really not say anything or tell you what’s going on and it ultimately doesn’t matter. Unlike the painfully slow pace of Snow White, the pace here is far too frantic, it keeps things from lulling too much I suppose, but it also means it doesn’t give you much time to get invested in the characters or their goals, which similarly do not get enough time to be properly established. The basic story is that Dumbo wants to be reunited with his mother... or is that Timothy wants to make Dumbo famous? Either way, neither of these developments happen until nearly half way through the movie, leaving most of the first half aimless and without direction and the second half clumsy and confused as it desperately struggles to decide what it’s going to be about before realising it has run out of time and needs to speed into a sudden and unearned climax. Each plot development (Of which there are basically none for the longest time and then suddenly 3 or 4 at once) is pretty sudden and rushed into and then stuff just happens. That’s pretty much it, a lot of stuff just happens; stuff which can be sweet and entertaining, but is too lost amongst the confused pace of the film, which cannot seem to decide what it wants to be about.  To call the climax rushed is an understatement, the whole film is rushed but it ends with breakneck speed, resulting in a very sloppy resolution - the other elephants hate Dumbo for the whole film and during the penultimnate scene he finally attacks them in retaliation, but one scene later they’re suddenly his friends and singing along happily, as if everything’s alright? How did Dumbo’s mother get out of solitary, did Timothy just have a friendly chat with the ring master? Why are they even still with the circus, which treated them horribly, I might add, if Dumbo is now a world famous superstar? None of these conclusions are reached properly, leaving a messy and confusing ending. I know it’s a kid’s movie, but still; Disney has always been primarily for kids, but Dumbo is certainly a lot “kiddier” than what we’ve seen so far. It’s sweet and harmless, but kind of hard for an adult to enjoy, as there’s very little to sink your teeth into, here.


Pretty much how I was feeling for most of this movie

There are very few characters to talk about, the side characters at the circus mostly being as bland as possible so let’s not even go into them much and just say they’re boring. As a silent protagonist, Dumbo has the difficult task of conveying personality and influence through no dialogue; unsurprisingly, Disney doesn’t even really try to tackle this, he’s just there to look cute. As always, his expressions are well animated and they at least convey emotion pretty well, but since Snow White and Pinocchio were already dull, uninteresting protagonists, Dumbo is expectedly even less interesting, as he doesn’t even have the benefit of a voice. He is as devoid of a personality and easily led by other characters as ever, showing pretty strongly than Disney still has no clue at this point how to make an interesting protagonist, as opposed to a bland, innocent, squeaky-clean Mickey Mouse clone. As I said before, Dumbo is basically Pinocchio as an elephant and I meant that in terms of his personality as well as his design, for the most part; appropriately, then, Timothy Mouse plays a very similar role to Jiminy Cricket, as the little helper who follows his charge around and tries to lead their life in a good direction. Timothy, however, is a lot more forceful and controlling than Jiminy and makes sure that Dumbo listens to him. While Jiminy could be a little mischievous, he was mostly quite flat; Timothy has a lot more personality and energy, he is optimistic and joyful, always thinking of a new plan and never giving up and also has a playful and confident attitude.  Even though his character is a little derivative, his strong personality is a welcome addition to an otherwise dull cast and makes for some pretty enjoyable moments. The only other fun characters in the movie are the crows; while these days the crows are often considered to be racially insensitive, I don’t think I really see it. While I can definitely see someone being a little uncomfortable with the way they talk, I don’t think their characters or role in the story are offensive or stereotypical at all – they are charming, witty, confident and the first characters to actually be nice to Dumbo and Timothy and offer them help, showing them in a positive and admirable light. They teach Dumbo the importance of confidence and self-belief and are undeniably a positive force in the film; they are also the only characters not to be shown-up or made fools of, even Dumbo and Timothy themselves don’t have this distinction. Though perhaps a little inappropriate for current times, I think the crows are fun, likeable and definitely the best part of the movie.


‘I been done seen about everything when I see a black president.’ – Jim Crow

Musically, the film isn’t bad, but for the most part the songs feel a little out of place. The songs aren’t bad, per se, but they feel more like contemporary pop songs you might hear a barbershop quartet belting out, as opposed to appropriate musical numbers. The lyrics and theme of the songs are also mostly superfluous and have little to do with the actual plot of the movie, contributing nothing to the progression of the story. There are two exceptions to these issues, the first being “Pink Elephants on Parade”, probably one of the more memorable of all of the Disney songs and with good reason. Not only is the song catchy, with lyrics that are interesting and fun, but the animation that accompanies the sequence is fantastic – the whole scene is very surreal, creative and visually interesting. Despite it being a great song however, it, again, has little to do with the movie itself; Dumbo and Timothy getting drunk is simply used as an excuse to let the animators do this scene. Based on this, combined with the fact that it kind of comes out of nowhere, has nothing to do with the plot and lasts quite a long time compared to the other musical numbers, you can kinda tell that Disney put all of their time and budget into this scene and realised this was the best thing they had in a film that was mostly a little dull; it’s a great segment, but looks like it belongs in Fantasia more than it does Dumbo.  The other exception is “When I see An Elephant Fly”, again, one of Disney’s classics. Not only is the song catchy and actually relevant to the plot, but the lyrics here are finally starting to show a seed of inspiration for Disney’s future style – using wordplay and unusual, or uncommon words to create interesting and unexpected rhymes; the puns are delightfully goofy and playful, while still being actually quite clever and humorous. Of their earlier work, these are two of Disney’s best songs.


Elephantasia

Honestly, I think that’s really all there is to say. Is Dumbo offensively bad? Not really, it’s just very safe; it takes no risks, does nothing new or original and is not up to the standard set by the previous Disney movies. I understand that Disney needed a hit and so played it safe, here, but it’s still disappointing; it’s not like there’s nothing to enjoy in Dumbo and its good-hearted nature makes it a lot easier to like than some of Disney’s other weaker films, but the good moments are few and far between. Dumbo is, quite simply, average.

Other Thoughts

  • This film has a song about a goddamn anthropomorphic train. It has nothing to do with anything but it’s just pretty funny it even exists, shouts out to Casey Jr.


Jesus Christ, why did they make a Disneyland ride for this of all things just why why does the train have eyes why is it called Casey Jr. what happened to Casey Sr. what kind of name for a fucking train is Casey I don’t understand




5/10

Next Week: Bambi!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds



Wednesday, 15 January 2014

3. Fantasia (1940)




The same year as Pinocchio, Disney released Fantasia, their most ambitious film; the idea of pairing music to animation was something Disney had tried before, but never on this scale – the result is one of the most creative and breathtaking pieces of animation ever made. There really isn’t that much to say about Fantasia, there isn’t one singular narrative to speak of, all the segments are different and self-contained and, as people much more knowledgeable and insightful than me have said in far more eloquent ways, trying to discuss the merit and meaning of music, particularly such classical pieces, is ultimately pretty pointless. Still, I’ll try my best to just share how I feel about each of the individual segments of the film. One thing I will say before I start, is that the one thing I don’t really like about the film is the introductions by Deems Taylor – he’s charismatic enough and it’s nice to be told the name of the piece and get a little history about it, I suppose the intent was to try and educate kids on classical music, but it just seems unnecessary. If it was just the name of the piece that would be fine, but he tells you the entire narrative of the short you’re about to see, what is the point of that? Why not just let me watch it and see for myself? They could’ve at least flashed SPOILERS before he told me all the dinosaurs were gonna die, jeez, I hadn’t finished The Flintstones yet. On top of that they have an intermission half-way through and then a little jam session; I get that this is supposed to break up what is, for Disney at least, quite a long movie, but did we really need this? If anything it just makes the movie even longer and this, along with the introductions, really slows the movie down; I understand that just transitioning from segment to segment could be a little jarring, considering how different some of them are in style and tone, but every time this dude’s face came on screen it kinda killed my enthusiasm a bit. Not too big a deal and it doesn’t really hurt the movie, but I dunno, not really needed.


‘So yeah, basically, what happens is that Luke goes and trains with this guy called Yoda and then he goes to Cloud City to rescue Han and Leia – cos Han and Leia got kidnapped earlier by Darth Vader – and then he fights Vader and Vader tells him he’s his Dad and Luke’s all like ‘Nooo’ and then he gets his hand cut off and stuff and then it ends. Anyway, please enjoy The Empire Strikes Back


Anyway, the film starts off with “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” by Bach, transitioning from the live action orchestra into an attempt at animating what might be going through your head when you listen to the piece. This serves as a good link from the live action introduction of the film into the world of colour and animation before us, as we slowly transition from the real into the imaginary; this is one of the most interesting and imaginative parts of the movie, the abstract shapes and images on the screen are quite a joy to behold and the way they play with the perspective and the background is, for want of a better phrase, pretty damn trippy. The way the shapes and patterns build and move alongside the building rhythm of the song is very impressive; this perhaps best captures the abstract images, colours and ideas one might subconsciously associate with classical music. The colours are phenomenal throughout the film and they are never more prominent or important than here, they are vibrant, striking and powerful – the use of colour holds this whole segment together and does so wonderfully, my personal favourite moment being when sparkles of colourful light fall down the screen like snow fakes, it’s just a wonder to behold.


Sure it looks beautiful and imaginative but the guy who drew it was probably just staring at the sun with his eyes closed.


Next is the “Nutcracker Suite” by Tchaikovsky, this is one I don’t really have much to say about, perhaps because it moves through different pieces of music and animation so quickly it’s kind of hard to get a grasp on it; that’s not to say it’s bad, I’m just not sure what I can add. The underwater segments are pretty interesting, as we follow a group of uh, strangely seductive fish (Beginning to think Walt Disney might be a little too into fish) and it’s quite captivating. The “Russian Dance” portion, where what appear to be thistles dance to the music, is very impressive; there is a lot of movement here, at some points it is synchronised, but at others, multiple different images are moving in different ways and a lot is going on at once on the screen; you have to respect the animators for this level of detail and control and the amount of time it must have taken to get this right. This part is lively and exciting and fits the rhythm of the music well, though the rest of the segment is a little slower and more atmospheric, though again, this suits the music, so it is appropriate, just a little less exciting, I suppose.


‘Walt Disney? You said he was dead.’
‘No, what I said is that he sleeps with the fishes.’


Next up is the most famous part of the movie, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by Dukas and starring Mickey Mouse himself; this was pretty much the only reason I - and I imagine many others - watched the movie when I was a kid, which is obviously a disservice to the rest of the film, but to my surprise, I was just as enthralled with this now as I was then. Cliché as it is to say, this is probably my favourite part of the film; though most of the other sections are animated and designed in a more abstract way and deal a lot with nature, life and movement, this is pretty much just like watching a standard Disney cartoon set to classical music and thus, it is designed in the traditional Disney way. They continue to the top themselves however, as the animation here is nothing short of incredible, it’s just so lively and fun, the colours are great, the backgrounds are great, everything is great, it’s great. This segment expertly tells a narrative simply through music and animation, the lack of dialogue doesn’t make it hard to follow at all and even without Deems Taylor’s rather extensive description of the story prior to the short, you still understand everything that is going on and get a full and complete story in less than 10 minutes. It’s also fun to see Mickey be a little mischievous and have to deal with a mess he made, as opposed to the happy go lucky, squeaky clean figure he’s usually depicted as. The attention to detail is fantastic, the way Mickey moves his hands to command the broomstick and later, the stars and sea, is like that of a conductor, as if he is conducting the world itself in time with the music. This obviously ties in to the nature of the film and supports its theme of putting movement to music and suggesting that it has the power to create thoughts and images in our head – by showing Mickey as a conductor able to control the world around him, it suggests that music itself has the power to create and control worlds, conducting movement, shape and life through rhythm, pitch and volume. I think I could watch this 1000 times and never get bored, it’s just that good – the image of Sorcerer Mickey is one of the most prominently associated with the Disney franchise and after watching this, you can definitely see why.


‘Oh boy, I am the Alpha and the Omega, ha-ha!’


Next is “Rite of Spring” by Stravinsky, the longest and most ambitious segment of the film, which chronicles the beginning of life on Earth to the end of the reign of the dinosaurs. The narrative of this piece follows the music to a tee, it transitions from slow and quiet to fast and loud repeatedly, going up and down like a roller coaster, as we follow each of the different ages of prehistoric Earth from their slow rise to their inevitable crashing fall. The depiction of the birth of life is mesmerising and quite haunting, as life grows, it depicts the endless cycle of death and birth and the often cruel side of nature as animals fight and die to survive. Animals die suddenly and without warning, one minute gliding along peacefully with the music, before a sudden noise signals their demise at the hands of a predator. Their deaths are rarely spectacular or theatrical (The main exception being the death of the stegosaurus at the hands of the T-Rex) but are instead uneventful, highlighting the fact that this happens every day and is simply a part of life. The dinosaurs display this callous disinterest to life and death as they waddle along slowly, nudging one another aside to get to food and water, or sadly giving up when others do so and looking elsewhere, as if they’re not even bothered enough to put up a fight; it really makes life and the struggle for survival look quite pathetic and sad. The animals here are mostly designed and animated in a more reserved and less cartoon-y manner than Disney is accustomed to; they are not cute cartoon critters, but real, thoughtless creatures, surviving on instinct alone. They are mostly dead eyed, slow moving and somewhat lifeless. This adds to the creepy and unsettling atmosphere of the segment and, along with the music, builds a foreboding sense of dread, especially since the audience knows what awaits the dinosaurs. The one change to this is the arrival of the T-Rex, who brings a singular moment of fear and frantic movement – the rhythm hastens and the music becomes loud and bombastic as the T-Rex chases the other dinosaurs and kills a stegosaurus in a large and theatrical battle. The scene is morbid and genuinely quite horrifying, as is the following scene of the dinosaurs wandering through the desert, trying to find food and water as the planet dries up; again, they are not desperate or animated in their struggle, they are slow, lifeless and almost seem to accept their death as one-by-one, they fall to the ground, even the once mighty T-Rex. The segment goes out on one last bang as the planet shifts and changes due to earthquakes and the remains of the dinosaurs fall out of sight, forgotten; this whole segment is chilling, contemplative and incredibly immersive. Artistically, it is one of the best segments of the film and is truly a remarkable piece of animation.


Circle of life, bitch.


“The Pastoral Symphony” by Beethoven follows and is perhaps a little too light and fluffy for the most part, but it is a welcome breather after the rather dark and crushing atmosphere of the previous segment. The beginning is colourful and well-animated, but a little dull, it’s basically just a bunch of girls getting ready for a date with their boyfriends, which is nice I suppose? It’s kind of hard to follow “The Rite of Spring”, so I guess it’s understandable that this isn’t too interesting in comparison. The arrival of Bacchus, who is delightfully hammered, is welcome – his exaggerated, drunken movements are enjoyable to watch and the way the animators use his full cup of wine as a comedic prop is inventive and fun. Suddenly, Zeus starts throwing thunderbolts at people... I’m not really sure why, Deems Taylor says he’s ‘playing darts’ but I don’t really get what he means by that. It kind of seems like he’s just trying to murder everyone. I dunno it’s pretty fun and it looks cool. Not much to say about this one.


‘Hey,  Hercules isn’t til 1997 so I thought I’d just throw thunderbolts at you guys a bit til then, is that cool?’


Next is the similarly comical “Dance of the Hours” by Ponchielli, wherein an alligator dances with a hippo. Huh. The animation continues to be expressive and lively and some of the stuff is so ridiculous you kind of have to laugh; it’s definitely silly, but in a good-natured way you can appreciate. Again, I don’t have much to say here and this is probably the least interesting or creative segment of the film, in my opinion; not bad, just kind of safe. Very, very strange, but safe. The movements of the animals, the choreography and the fantastic backgrounds are nice to watch, but it’s nothing to write home about.


A hippo dancing with a crocodile is a peculiar spectacle.


Finally, we end on another of the film’s best and darkest segments, “Night on Bald Mountain” by Mussorgsky. This is just awesome, plain and simple, the music is awesome and the animation is awesome, it just kicks ass. The demon Chernabog (Or Satan, or the Devil, or whatever you want to call him) has such a cool and diabolical design, with a wonderfully wicked smile and callous and careless movements which match the music and demonstrate his thoughtless attitude towards his servants. Like Mickey, he moves like a conductor as he orders his demonic hordes, acting as a dark contrast to the bright and heroic Mickey and showing that music can crush and terrify us just as much as it can uplift and inspire us. The designs of all the demons are dark and surreal without being too grotesque, the flying ghosts in particular look like wall paintings that have come to life, it all suits the tone and style of the music perfectly. The final transition into “Ave Maria” by Schubert is perfect; as the dark colours of “Night on Bald Mountain” are replaced by light and Chernabog and his minions slink away, the bright and hopeful choir of this final song ring in the last piece of the film. Light, good and hope vanquish the dark night and all its callous evil, another representation of the values Disney constantly tries to push in its stories and a perfect way to end one of their greatest films. The scene is simply a group of people heading to church, identified in the hazy dawn by their bright torches; it is not showy or extravagant, but subtle, slow and calm, just like the music, appropriately peaceful after the loud and bombastic “Night on Bald Mountain” and a soothing and cathartic end to the film.


I don’t even have a bad joke or barely relevant reference this is just cool.


Fantasia is so creative, grandiose and original you cannot help but respect and admire it. Though it is not one of my personal favourites, I have to accept that, artistically, this is truly Disney’s masterpiece. It is ambitious, it experiments with style and narrative and tries something very different and very risky; thankfully, Disney managed to create a beautiful film that perfectly ties together sight and sound, music and animation. Fantasia is a landmark in animation and one of the most ambitious and impressive films ever made.

Other Thoughts

  • Is this still okay? 


I think it is...?

  • OH GOD THE VULTURES ARE BACK


GO BACK TO HELL WHERE YOU CAME FROM


8/10

Next Week: Dumbo!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds


Wednesday, 8 January 2014

2. Pinocchio (1940)




After the somewhat surprising success of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Disney moved on to its next animated feature, Pinocchio and it’s hard to disagree that they definitely stepped it up; they really grew from the experience of making their first film and brought everything they learned to Pinocchio, which is pretty definitively a better movie. The two movies share a relatively similar art style – you can certainly see the Dwarves in Geppetto, for example – and the animation continues to be lively and expressive. However, you can see how Disney have learned here, for the animation is even better and some of the issues they ran into with Snow White have been rectified. Unlike the uncomfortable attempts at realistic design with Snow White, the Prince and, to an extent, the Evil Queen, the human characters here are much more stylised – only the Blue Fairy follows this more realistic design and she does not look nearly as awkward or uncanny as Snow White. She shares similar issues, in particular the bad lip syncing, but it suits the Blue Fairy better, considering she is supposed to be a magical character and an unreal beauty - someone that is mostly human, but a little different - and she is not on screen enough for her design to become too distracting. The other characters are all quite wonderfully and uniquely designed - Pinocchio has just enough boy and just enough puppet, he is cute and lively without being too human and appropriately awkward and inhuman in his movements without coming across as too wooden or lifeless. A lot of this is greatly helped by the fantastic animation of his joints and movements, it really looks as if a puppet has come to life; before Pinocchio is animated, Geppetto puppets him around in a fantastically realistic way and even after being animated, Pinocchio still looks like a puppet being jigged around by invisible strings, particularly during his performance in Stromboli’s puppet show. In contrast to Snow White, whose attempts at realistic movements made her look like an awkward marionette, Pinocchio’s movements are deliberately jerky and unnatural and thus, are perfectly suited to more extreme and expressive animation. The supporting cast are all just as whimsically designed and animated, from Jiminy Cricket, who is appropriately bouncy and energised, to Figaro, who slinks around just like a real cat and best of all, Cleo – leave it to Disney to make a goldfish look so adorable.


omg u guys so kawaii <3


The villains are also fantastically animated, each in their own style, to match their personalities. Honest John and Gideon are lively and over-the-top, matching their tendency for physical comedy and their more fantastical appearance. Stromboli is animated in a similar way to Snow White, with very smooth and careful animation in an attempt to capture more human movement – unlike Snow White, however, Stromboli’s movements never get out of the animator’s control and they seem to have recognised that he must still be stylised to some degree; after all, he is a cartoon. The Coachman moves similarly, but a bit slower and more rigid, which again, fits as he is more cold and controlled than the short tempered Stromboli. Best of all is Monstro, he is drawn and animated in a very different way to the rest of the characters, a very clever choice, as it gives the whale a feeling of being otherworldly and mysterious, beyond that of the other characters. Monstro is painted with much darker colours, thicker brush strokes, he looks as if he is part of the background – this is used most effectively in his introductory scene, where he sleeps at the bottom of the ocean before suddenly awakening to devour some nearby, unsuspecting fish. It really looks as if part of the background has suddenly come to the life and entered the foreground, just as the fish are surprised and terrified, so are the audience, as our eyes have been trained to distinguish the difference between the parts of the picture that will move and the still images that are simply part of the background; Monstro’s design plays with audience expectations and expertly uses the very nature of animation in a fresh and different way. This all serves to make the whale look as dark, terrifying and otherworldly as possible and really establishes him as a serious threat. Additionally, the backgrounds are better than ever, in particular the underwater scenes, which look fantastic and are full of detail and life – little touches like the starfish and crabs that attach themselves to the rock weighing Pinocchio down help to create a genuine sense of teeming life in this ocean environment; combined with the slower and weighted movements of Jiminy and Pinocchio, you really believe that these characters are underwater. Well, besides the fact that they can talk and Jiminy apparently doesn’t need to breathe, but whatever, it’s a cartoon.


Monstro on that Unit 01 shit

Not only is the animation even better, but Disney have clearly learned from the narrative issues of Snow White as well; partially due to the fact that they were working with a full, established novel this time, rather than a short fairy tale, the narrative structure of Pinocchio is a lot less loose and aimless, scenes rarely drag on for much longer than they need to and the film keeps a steady pace. The narrative is still not incredibly strong and the story does kind of hop around from place to place, but the events aren’t meaningless and all follow the central idea of Pinocchio learning how to be a good boy and distinguish the difference between right and wrong. Disney still haven’t quite developed their most successful and engaging story telling techniques, but have definitely taken a step forward here and some of the narrative techniques employed in Pinocchio are still great. The movie has a number of different, mostly self-contained scenes, but is more easily divided into two parts – the first half is more bright, cutesy and fun, while the second half is more dark, dramatic and, quite frankly, frightening (we’ll get to that). The early sections of the movie resemble Snow White more, framing the narrative by reading a storybook, the cute, friendly animals, the happy dancing and singing; it’s all very sweet and joyful, but it’s always genuine and never becomes too saccharine, it’s hard to not get swept up in the fun that Geppetto and his family are having. Though the pacing of the rest of the movie is good, this opening section is... a little too long. It never gets too tedious, but it does take a while to get started, spending 30 minutes in the same room is just a little too much. Thankfully, the rest of the film moves around quite quickly and has much more locations and situations than Snow White, generally keeping it fresh and interesting; like I said, the story isn’t the strongest, it’s more just a bunch of things happening, but they are fun and engaging things and again, they all tie in to the central theme of Pinocchio learning how to be a good boy.


I kicked a cartoon cat in the butt, do I have to draw you a diagram?

Ultimately, the moral is a little ham-fisted – though it is a true and fair one, the movie pushes it so hard that it can at times come off as a strict parent, telling kids that they are not allowed to have fun or be mischievous in any way, or they will suffer a horrible punishment. Granted, you shouldn’t cut school or be a hooligan, but being kidnapped by an angry Italian man and transformed into a donkey cos you played a bit of pool seems like a bit of an extreme punishment (Seriously Jiminy explicitly takes issue with the fact that Pinocchio is playing pool, is pool evil or something?) It also becomes a little lost because you can’t really blame Pinocchio for a lot of what happens, he never makes a conscious decision to do wrong, he’s simply lead astray by other characters; plus, Pinocchio has effectively just been born, he has no experience or knowledge, he literally DOESN’T know the difference between right and wrong or the nature of responsibility and consequences. Why should he know to listen to his father or reasonable authority figures any more than Honest John or Lampwick? Still, I’m being too harsh – “be brave, truthful and unselfish and always let your conscience be your guide” is a perfectly fine moral, it’s just a little bit clumsy, here.

There are a lot more characters here than in Snow White and they are all more unique, individual and overall, a little more rounded and developed. Geppetto, Figaro and Cleo are all very likeable and their enthusiasm is infectious, they all have somewhat subtle, but noticeable characterisations – Geppetto is well intentioned, but a bit of an air-head, Figaro is a little irritable and impatient, Cleo is affectionate, but shy; they work very well as an ensemble, and that’s a statement I never thought I’d make about an old man and his cartoon cat and goldfish. I always remembered Jiminy Cricket as boring, a little too squeaky clean, but he’s actually a little mischievous and playful – he cracks jokes, makes light of the situation and even tries to pick a fight with Lampwick; of course, Jiminy is a cricket so obviously isn’t going to do any harm, but he seems to genuinely want to beat the shit out of this kid! Most humorous of all, Jiminy’s a bit of a womaniser, every time he sees a woman or even a toy of a woman he swoops in and tries to put the moves on her – these little characterisations keep the characters from becoming too dull. Pinocchio himself, unfortunately, isn’t the strongest protagonist; like Snow White, his decisions are always made by other characters and both he and the action of the film are led by others, not by him. This makes sense and is kind of the point of the film, Pinocchio is supposed to be an innocent, naive little boy who doesn’t know much about the world or what choices to make, so he follows and imitates other people – in this respect, his character is a success, so you can’t fault Disney too much, but as a main character, it’s a little weak and not too interesting. You definitely sympathise with Pinocchio and want him to succeed, but I personally never got too attached to him and was more interested in seeing how the other characters would interact with him.

The use of antagonists is interesting and something Disney doesn’t do too often, there is no central villain, so much as there are several villainous characters who lead Pinocchio off his path, for one reason or another. Though it is unfortunate that we don’t get to spend too much time with any one villain, as Disney villains have a legacy of being very well crafted and fun to watch, we do get a different effect of getting to see a multitude of different villains who all act in different ways and are motivated for different reasons. Rather than being a singular force of evil which aim to destroy Pinocchio, simply to serve the role as antagonist, the villains of Pinocchio instead reflect the different flaws that the Blue Fairy has instructed Pinocchio to eradicate from himself and serve as both literal and figurative obstacles on Pinocchio’s journey to become a real boy. The Blue Fairy tells Pinocchio that to become a real boy, he must prove himself to be ‘brave, truthful and unselfish’ and the villains of the movie act as mirrors to these attributes which Pinocchio must defeat if he wishes to prove himself; each villain exhibits all these flaws in some way, but are best defined by one in particular. Honest John and Gideon embody dishonesty and deception – they constantly lie to Pinocchio and lead him astray to suit their own needs, the ironic nickname of “Honest” John and the fact that he is a fox, an animal classically associated with trickery and cunning, establishes just how much he is defined by his identity as a con man. Pinocchio must learn not only to be wary of dishonesty in others and not let them lead him astray, but to always be truthful himself. Stromboli and the Coachman represent selfishness and greed, Stromboli lavishes the opportunity to count his money, kidnaps Pinocchio and locks him in a cage so that he can exploit him for profit and is furious when he discovers that a customer paid with a counterfeit coin. Stromboli’s greed encompasses him, he cares only about making money and has no interest in sharing with others – he “pays” Pinocchio with the counterfeit coin – or taking their feelings into consideration, so long as they can make him money. The Coachman takes the boys to Pleasure Island to indulge in their most selfish and destructive desires, transforming them into animals by having them behave as such – though he does behave selfishly by kidnapping children for money, his villainy comes more from bringing out the selfishness in others, including Pinocchio himself, who must learn to suppress his more selfish desires and be more thoughtful of others. Monstro represents fear – though it is not the whale himself who is cowardly, but the other underwater creatures, so terrified of Monstro that they flee at the very sound of his name and will not help Pinocchio find him. Monstro is the very representation of fear and Pinocchio must summon all his courage to literally walk into the belly of the beast and face his fears head on. 


Real villains have curves

Speaking of the villains, they play a role in making Pinocchio probably the scariest of all the Disney animated movies – at least three scenes scared the hell out of me when I was a kid and I still think they’re pretty spooky. Stromboli is not as threatening as I remember and is a lot goofier, but the Pleasure Island segments are just as dark and frightening as ever; the second you meet the Coachman, the film takes a very sharp turn into Nightmareville as the Coachman’s face basically transforms into THE DEVIL’S. From them on, the film becomes very dark, not just thematically, but aesthetically – the lightning and colours are dark, particularly in Pleasure Island itself, a carnival that contrasts creepy, unnatural lights against a dark night sky, creating long shadows and a surreal atmosphere. Honestly, Pleasure Island is quite a frightening place – it all looks eerie, the audience knows something is about to go wrong, too, which creates a foreboding sense of doom that hangs over the boys just like the huge buildings, statues and balloons. Groups of boys scramble around, developing a sense of claustrophobia and images like the Ferris wheel that is so crowded a boy falls out and has to be dragged back in are pretty unsettling – the boys look as if they are being herded like animals, foreshadowing their transformation into donkeys, where they will be literally herded into crates and shipped off into slave labour. As a kid, I was physically unable to watch Lampwick’s transformation scene, I had to avert my eyes from the screen and only look back every few seconds – of course, I could have easily fast forwarded past it, but a little part of me always wanted to see it happen. That says wonders to this film’s power, it knows kids want to be scared, just a little, and pushes the boundaries as much as it can without going too far – Lampwick’s transformation is reminiscent of horror movies (Though made before many of the classics, I wonder if a lot of horror movies were inspired by this scene?) in the way it knows that less is more and often what you don’t see is scarier than what you do. The way we see the final stage of the transformation in Lampwick’s shadow is chilling and effective, but ultimately, he is becoming a cartoon donkey, rather than a werewolf or a monster, which shows how the film knows to stop things short of being too frightening. Still, Lampwick’s desperate cries for his ‘mama’ and unsettling laugh as a donkey are still quite scary and add to the film’s surreal and disconcerting atmosphere.


My Life as a Teenage Donkey, coming to Disney Channel this fall

In contrast to this, however, I was surprised by how much of the film was actually genuinely funny; the movie has a great sense of humour which it uses to deflate situations and keep things light and entertaining. Some of the humour, particularly with Honest John and Gideon, is a little too slapstick for my tastes, it comes off as a little Looney Tunes, but without much of a bite, so it falls flat; Jiminy can also be a little goofy at times, too. Generally, however, the movie has a playful, intelligent and at times, rather quirky sense of humour – at one point Jiminy rushes to Geppetto to tell him that Pinocchio is in trouble, but decides not to, because that would be snitching. I love that Jiminy has such a problem with snitching that he would put Pinocchio’s life in danger, being held a prisoner for the rest of your life is nothing compared to getting grounded! I’m not even sure if this was meant to be a joke but it was just so strange to me that it made me laugh. Jiminy’s aforementioned womanising is pretty funny too, there’s a great moment when Jiminy is watching Pinocchio perform in Stromboli’s show but isn’t enjoying the show at all, believing Pinocchio is making a fool out of himself and eventually just turns away from the show in a huff. Suddenly, some marionettes of scantily clad French women join Pinocchio on stage, and Jiminy puts on his glasses and stares at the stage with his mouth wide open –what a horn dog! They’re not even real Jiminy!!! Some of the lines are great too, after the show Jiminy decides to leave Pinocchio behind, noting ‘What does an actor need with a conscience anyway?’ And after discovering there is a room on Pleasure Island where boys can just get into a fight, Lampwick tells Pinocchio ‘C’mon, let’s go in and poke somebody in the nose.’ Pinocchio asks ‘Why?’ To which Lampwick unenthusiastically responds ‘Eh, just for the fun of it.’ Lampwick’s flippant attitude towards beating people up is just so funny to me. My favourite parts, however, are the little touches – like when Honest John tells Pinnochio that fame awaits him and raises his eyebrows, to which Pinocchio repeats ‘Fame?’ and raises his eyebrows in the exact same way, or when Pinocchio sees Lampwick grow donkey ears, he looks down at his glass of beer and puts it aside, as if he’s had too much. These little details show how much care and attention was put into this film and make sure that the audience always has something to look at; the jokes aren’t exactly laugh out loud funny, but they always put a smile on my face and I was surprised by just how much I warmed to the film’s goofy and good-natured sense of humour.


‘Man, Stacey was right, I DO have a problem.’

The music is less imperative than in Snow White, where most scenes were little more than an excuse to tie different musical numbers together; that is not to say the music is bad however, it’s just relied on less. There are songs, for sure, but they are not as big or showy as Disney songs often are – they are less musical numbers and more like brief little bursts of music, high-spirited and energetic tunes that mirror the fun-loving, adventurous nature of the film. I would be remiss to not mention “When You Wish Upon a Star”, which has effectively become Disney’s flagship song; there’s not much to say that hasn’t been said, it’s pretty damn good. It’s a very sweet and uplifting song that really does encapsulate everything Disney is about – faith, wishes, love, equality and never giving up hope, because sometimes dreams really do come true; it’s a little sappy, maybe, but you’d have to be pretty heartless not to at least enjoy it a little. The songs still don’t make particularly creative use of lyrics and like I said, aren’t exactly front-and-centre, but they’re still fun and very memorable.

Overall, Pinocchio is definitely a step forward – after somewhat of a practice run with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Disney has found its feet here and started to come into its signature style. It’s still cute and heart warming, but it has a little more grit than Snow White and more of a clear, narrative structure, though the plot is still a little thin and tends to meander. Is it perfect? No, the characters, while fun, still aren’t that fleshed out and the protagonist is still pretty dull; the songs are catchy, but Disney still hasn’t fully formed their lyrical style yet. Some consider this film to be Disney’s opus and the finest of all its narrative animations; I don’t quite agree with that, nor do I see it as the quintessential Disney movie, but it certainly is one of the most “Disney-esque” of them all and packs in almost everything you expect from a classic Disney movie – Pinocchio is a lot of fun and has a lot of heart. 

Other Thoughts

  • When he thinks there might be a stranger in the house Gepetto just pulls out A GUN. What a nutjob.

PACK THE GAT IN THE SMALL OF MY BACK

  • Seriously look at him HE IS THE DEVIL

Or maybe like, some kind of evil pig-man



  • Wait... what happened to all the other kids who turned into donkeys!? Are they trapped in the salt mines forever!??!? What about Alexander!?!??!?!?

R.I.P Alexander we will never forget you


7.5/10

Next week: Fantasia!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds