Week 7: The Three Caballeros (1944)

The Three Caballeros is the second Disney theatrical "package" film after Saludos Amigos. It's a collection of animated shorts loosely tied together. This time, Donald Duck is celebrating his birthday and receives a box filled with a variety of gifts that lead him on various journeys.

The first couple of segments teach Donald about his close relatives, birds, and one almost begins to think that this film will be an animated documentary about the various birds of our world. But then Jose Carioca returns to teach Donald a bit more about his Brazilian culture, parts of which include them dancing with live action dancers. It's rather odd to see the characters blending in with real people, but hey Who Framed Roger Rabbit made it work a few decades later, so there's that. Then, the gun-wielding (yep) Panchito Pistoles of Mexico joins in on the fun taking the trio on a Mexican excursion, though bender almost seems a more appropriate term. It's here that the wheels come off the track as the latter part of the movie becomes a flashy, nonsensical montage of Donald chasing after (human) women. Finally, the film ends with Donald still wanting of a woman, but angry with his friends who seemingly prevented him from reaching this goal.

In the end, the attempt on the part of the director to make sense of the various segments just feels too forced. The movie isn't really sure if it wants to be a bird documentary, a travelogue, or a strange film about the way Donald Duck exoticizes (I probably made that word up) women. Maybe if he had committed to just one of those ideas the whole thing would have played out better.

It's more than just the story that feels out of sync, though. The animation, likewise, is all over the place. Parts are imagined quite simplistically, while others are vibrant and flashy. The above image is from a segment of the film that is told through still photos that would appear to have been done in pastels. Again, random.

I'd also point to the strange characterization of Jose and Panchito. Jose smokes a cigar (at least he does in earlier releases of the film) for a great portion of the film, which was less controversial, if not all together acceptable back then, but still, he's the only one to do so and one of few non-villainous Disney characters in the canon to do as such. Panchito, on the other hand, carries a gun quite casually. If this film was trying to offer up any sort of good will to Latin America, I'm not sure it made the mark. As usual, portraying other cultures is full of problems and pitfalls.

It's not an especially interesting 72-minute film though the early segments are entertaining enough. The Three Caballeros is just another reminder that when Walt Disney Studios started out, it took it more than a few films to figure out what it did best. The movie hasn't left behind much of a mainstream legacy, but may have more popularity in Latin America. It did, however, produce a dark water ride at Epcot's World Showcase where park goers can take a "tour" of Mexico alongside Donald, Jose, and Panchito and, in my opinion, it's far more enjoyable as a 5-minute trip than it is as a feature length film.

Next week is Make Mine Music. Honestly, who has heard of this one?

Week 6: Saludos Amigos (1942)

Now that I have finally seen this movie I can understand why I have never seen it before. Saludos Amigos is not a traditional Disney animated film.

What Saludos Amigos essentially amounts to is a quick documentary about the Disney animators traveling to South America to capture the essence of life in another part of the world. Drawing on this venture (surprise pun), they create four short stories that aim to capture the essence of four South American regions: Lake Titicaca, Chile, Argentina, and Brazil. The runtime of each segment lasts no more than about ten minutes, with two to three minutes spent chronicling what unique qualities the animators found in each area. In all, Saludos Amigos runs 42 minutes and it's not really enough time to dig deep or to grow very attached to any of the ideas. It's purely surface level.

I remember discussing this film with my friend, who just so happens to come from Brazil, a couple of years ago. She spoke fondly of the film, having appreciated its commitment to her country, her continent, and its culture. By the way, in the film Brazil is represented with its own character, Jose Carioca, who I believe is based on a character from Brazilian folklore.

For me, the film wasn't nearly as appealing. I have always considered myself to be a story-first type of person. I like a narrative or character that I can get behind. Sometimes a familiar setting will draw me in, but that can only get me so far.

I wouldn't necessarily say that the film has a narrow appeal, but as one of few Disney films to be made more or less specifically about the culture of a few regions and not a long one at that, it hasn't maintained the popularity or name recognition of many of Disney's early works. Obviously, many Disney movies have found a way to introduce their audiences to different cultures and environments, but most do so in a secondary manner, with story serving as the conduit through which the audience is educated. Maybe someday soon we will have a new Disney animated film that has a South American backdrop, because it has certainly been a while.

In a way this movie serves as a reminder (much in the way that Fantasia did) that when Disney animation started out, it wasn't nearly as clear-cut or decisive as it is today. It makes sense, though, because when it began, there wasn't really a market for animated films. Everything they were doing was ground-breaking and new. Maybe if films of this nature had caught on, Disney would still be profiling various countries in a similar manner, but they didn't find quite as much success and over time they more or less ceased to exist. Today, new takes on classic fairy tales or other such stories seem to be the bread and butter of Disney.

But before I get back into that style of Disney film, I move onto The Three Caballeros, which this film set the stage for by introducing Jose Carioca to Donald Duck.

Week 5: Bambi (1942)

I was talking to the kid I babysit yesterday about my Disney movie viewing challenge and as we were discussing this week's film, Bambi, he asked me how Bambi's mother died. He has a tendency of asking difficult questions! Though he hasn't seen the movie before, he has one of the children's story books based on the movie and couldn't remember whether Bambi's mother died in a fire or by being shot. As I tried to recall how Bambi's mother ultimately died, I realized that I only had a vague recollection of the film, because the last time I can remember watching it was when I was six years old, the same age as the kid I babysit. Not quite certain of the event that led to the death of Bambi's mother, I promised to tell him more about Bambi when I saw him next week.

It is baffling that I am now responsible for a six-year-old, because I can still remember being six. It's one of those realizations that makes me feel old. Especially given that I had many of the same interests as the kid I babysit. For example, his two biggest interests of the moment are Pokemon and Star Wars, both staples of my childhood. Well, such is life.

The reason I have chosen to share this revelation about growing up is that it couldn't be a more suitable opening to a movie like Bambi. So much of what happens in childhood goes completely over our heads. Take the use of "pig latin" in Lion King. Definitely didn't catch that until my early adulthood. What I'm trying to say is that we can watch and seemingly understand a movie, only to go back years later and discover a completely new meaning. Some of the discovery may be due in part to memory loss (we can't remember everything), but I think that a great deal of it comes with life experience. Watching Bambi this morning I learned that it's a vignette about the cycle of life, when at age six it was just a movie about a fawn becoming a deer. Maybe those two understandings don't sound so different. My current appraisal might just be a more collegiate-sounding version of what my six-year-old-self thought Bambi was about, after all.

Nevertheless, at six, movies always seemed to have a clear and concise plot. Yet having the opportunity to look back on a movie like Bambi, I am surprised at how the story feels more like a collection of excerpts from Bambi's life than it does a narrative. At every step Bambi is, yes, growing up and learning, but what happens in one scene doesn't always drive the action toward the next. Because of this, we are able to see more intimate scenes that express the nature of life rather than those that drive the plot. So, we end up with scenes like the one where Bambi experiences his first thunderstorm accompanied by the song "Little April Shower." I might add that as an April baby, I was endeared to this song. The scene doesn't set up any future action, it just shows that Bambi is learning about his environment. There are many other such scenes and for the most part they are the film.

The beauty (literally) of having scenes that represent little slices of life is that the animators are able to create audience understanding primarily through spectacular visuals. From the close up shots that allow the audience to experience intimate moments between young Bambi and his mother to distant shots of the forest as it is swallowed by wildfire, the animators really find a way to make each moment beautiful. Some scenes are created using pale colors and soft focus, recalling the naivete of youth and the mere simplicity of it all. Others are vivid and striking, showing the more harsh reality of life in the wild like forest fires. I have to point out the scene wherein Bambi is fighting another deer for the affection of Faline, because it's incredibly intense, yet done in a way that is still feels graceful and authentic to nature. 

Going back to the forest fire, it's worth mentioning that somewhat similar to Dumbo, this film doesn't really have a villain. Well, kind of. Whereas Dumbo is overcoming societal perceptions rather than a villain, Bambi and his friends are overcoming an unseen enemy, man. The audience is never directly shown the poachers who lurk about the forest, but their presence is felt. It's present in the sound of the gunshots, the fear, and the damage that they bring to the forest. But what these two films do differently than most contemporary Disney films, is that they create broad antagonists. Any man could be a threat to the forest, much in the way that anyone who laughs at Dumbo causes him to feel rejected.

Of course, Bambi does offer a broad array of characters in addition to its landscapes. There's his comedic sidekick Thumper, who is equally rambunctious and outspoken (these days we'd say he has no filter). Frankly, he's about as charming and perfect as sidekicks come, joining the ranks of characters like Finding Nemo's Dori and Cinderlla's Gus and Jack. I feel almost bad that I had forgotten his charm after all these years. A nice touch I thought was that Flowers the skunk and his future mate, too, were obsessed with flowers. Bambi's mother is tragically perfect: patient, kind, and self-sacrificing. This makes her (off screen) death by poachers all the more heart-wrenching. Finally, perhaps the most intriguing character is the Great Prince of the Forest, Bambi's father.

In most Disney movies, the hero/heroine/ingenue is missing one parent, yet for nearly half of Bambi this isn't really the case. He has two living parents, though his father is a stranger to him, because as the Great Prince he must guard over all of the forest, which apparently means he has no role in Bambi's life. I'm not positive, but the absence of a father figure does seem realistic and true to life, making the whole situation feel more real. Upon the death of Bambi's mother, the Great Prince does come to Bambi to inform him that his mother can no longer be with him, presumably taking him home. What happens next, no one can be quite sure, because there's a flash forward to Bambi's first spring as a full-grown deer. Sidebar: the flash forward was a tad jarring as I might have preferred just one scene about young Bambi after his mother died. In a couple of later scenes, we see Bambi with the Great Prince and can assume that there has been some training taking place between the two over the years, but again there's no concrete sense of this. So, all in all, I am surprised in a sense that Disney did not try to develop more of a connection between Bambi and his father. Then again, it may just be my more modern understanding of Disney movies that leads me to believe as much. In any case, I just wanted to highlight what I found to be an intriguing character/situation.

As you have probably guessed, all in all, I loved this movie. There's a lot to like and a lot that charmed me. There's something very nostalgic about watching Bambi grow up and eventually take his father's place as the Great Prince.

It may be that as a film Bambi succeeds because it can be enjoyed by children and adults for completely different reasons. Children are reeled in by the inherent comedy of watching Bambi and his friends go through life and eventually growing up. Adults on the other hand can look back on their youth and relate, relate to how life is an unpredictable, ongoing cycle.

Next week is a big unknown for me with Saludos Amigos, as it is the first movie that I haven't seen on my list. As far as I can remember that is.