The Official... Well, I Review Disney Live-Action Classics Thread

[No-Personality]

The Official No-Personality
Disney Live-Action Classics Digest

Before I get to it, I want to talk very briefly about my experience watching these films in a month-long marathon... some of them I had never seen previously (Swiss Family, 20,000 Leagues, Apple Dumpling, Darby O'), some I had (Old Yeller, Love Bug, Pollyanna, Shaggy Dog). And before the glorious nostalgic killjoy of DVD - which implies exactly what you think it does - I had never seen a bad DLAC. The drippy, melty glow of magical movie viewing was strong with the era in home video that VHS represented. What DVD has provided me with is a somewhat unfortunate cold-shower that has altogether torched my nostalgia goggles. It's safe to say the magic... is gone. So brace yourselves, because I will be doing this series with brutal honesty and a great fewer positive conclusions than one might have expected from a Disney fan. Some sacred cows are about to get roasted.

[Avaitor]

Ho boy.

[Daikun]

Will this also include the Touchstone/Miramax stuff, or just Disney?

[No-Personality]

Will this also include the Touchstone/Miramax stuff, or just Disney?

Oh, absolutely not... that would open up a box far too wide to cover. I have a total of maybe 5 Touchstone/Hollywood/Miramax (not including Dimension) titles, and they're all much too random. Except for a purely box office standpoint, there is zero connection between Disney and the stuff they distributed through Touchstone. With one exception- Who Framed Roger Rabbit. And that falls right into the Poppins category. The idea that Disney would have made the same movies Touchstone / Hollywood did were it not for their devotion to PG ratings is something I certainly never bought into. And Miramax? Wow... foreign films? Martial arts flicks? Splatter horror sequels? No... that's nowhere close to what Disney would have ever dreamed of. Even if large families had had any interest in them in the 80's.

[No-Personality]

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
(1954, directed by Richard Fleischer) -

One of the things that has bothered me over the last couple years is how all of Disney's calculated attempts at bringing warmth and energy to their movies is exactly what makes them fall dead on me. The best excuse the studio ever had to do away with all that was 20,000 Leagues, probably by far their darkest and most intellectual movie. Yet even this film falls victim to Disney's creed: don't put real money into a movie if it doesn't try to give the audience something for everyone. This is of course what makes it calculated (read: forced) rather than genuine. Worse still, in the case of this movie- more screentime is given to our hero, sailor Kirk Douglas, instead of the vastly more important Professor Aronnax, who is experiencing all this from the broadest perspective and therefore usually has the most enlightened view. I decided to give the film the benefit of the doubt (which was difficult after Douglas's rump-shaking musical number) when it began to dip into some pretty serious subject matter. Actually, scratch that- this is the most serious story Disney's ever tried to tell. They show us slave camps, crews of dozens of sailors murdered in cold blood, and Captain Nemo actually torturing his prisoners. For 1950's Disney, this is practically Schindler's List. This kind of story doesn't come with an On/Off switch, despite what Walt and co. clearly believed. Did I smile at the seal? Sure. She was cute. But the choice to turn the 2nd half of the movie (save for most of the 20-minute ending) into a series of quirky Douglas escape attempts did nothing for me or the story. There isn't even a moment-of-clarity on his part where he realized he couldn't trust the very people he roped in to get to save him. Instead, this is treated as some incidental irony. The kind we're not really meant to think about. Even though Nemo has a very clear theory that these people are the barbarians who give mankind a bad name. This incident gives us a direct example of what he's talking about, a "they destroy their own" in-action. And after nearly getting shot, Douglas brands this "a blow for freedom" and isn't corrected or put in his place. I don't see all those slaves back at the camp being freed.

So, clearly the film's biggest flaw is that it can't handle ambiguity in a fair and balanced way. There's little to no question at any time who we're meant to side with and after awhile, how far we're meant to even consider Nemo's propositions. This is fine for making Nemo a villain worth the price of admission. But, yeah, he actually has that thing where his motivations make sense, he has an inside view on an issue no one else is willing to look at, and makes a lot of good points about what is and isn't a genuine act of goodwill. Basically, again- the Professor gets screwed. But he was the key to evening this movie out. After the movie drops the very big MURDER BOMB!, it's... not really the right time to steer us into predictable "the more you listen to him, the more you're becoming him." Does this observation even give us any deep insight into humanity? No. The Professor just gets angrily defensive (was it... his turn or something?) and makes things more divisive. Making the end-point of "it was hopeless all along" extremely repetitive. I think the movie might just have a problem with allowing us to understand the issues it lays on the table. Nothing argues this as well as Nemo's first big kill. We're taken to the island to see the evils of the crew aboard the ship he's about to sink. So, they're bad guys. Even the Professor admits it. But... by sinking this ship, he's killing good guys? This is Douglas's take on it. That's not ambiguity- that's "okay, now my head is starting to hurt." If I read the book, I have a sneaking suspicion suddenly I wouldn't need this movie anymore. Since it's anything but a tidy little underwater nature adventure. And, if I may, the performances as one big block are not really doing anything that nobly validates the adaptation process. Except for James Mason, this is another day at Disney's tour of the world Parklife of Humanity (and, so, I'll spare you any attempt at analyzing the cannibal tribe sequence). Which I wouldn't argue against were it not for how darn serious this story is and how important it be told well. Better still, that it be told so we don't need the book. I'm not going to rush off to read the parts of the book the movie intentionally left underexplained. This all reeks of the movie desperate to find some way to keep Douglas looking heroic. When, just saving Nemo's life would have done more than adequately. Even then, we have to go to that Jaws school and go get drunk and be merry afterward. Did I mention that I hate Jaws?

And yet, I certainly can't fault the film on making itself an easy experience to sit through. Which isn't always cut-and-dry with 2+ hour Disney epics (as I hope will be crystal after another week or so). I would gush about how beautiful the cinematography is but its job seems to have been keeping us awake instead of dazzling us, which the acting performances aren't likely to do. (Though, I love James Mason.) And I might have been tempted to compliment the music score but... The Goonies ripped it off and, they did it better (much prettier). The underwater scenes are definitely a high point. The "making all your food and resources out of what the ocean provides" is fascinating (I hope this is credit I can give the movie and not something I'm cheating the book out of). The sets and the design of the Nautilus ship are stunning. The seal was adorable (though I'd much rather have seen Peter Lorre befriending her, give him something to do inbetween getting punched in the face and having his ass nibbled). And (now I know I'm trying to pump a dry well here)... Kirk Douglas takes his shirt off a lot. Though, to my personal chagrin, Mason stays buttoned up the entire time. (Did I mention that I love James Mason?)

[Avaitor]

I have to say that this is one of the few cases where the film adaptation is better than the original novel. The book is totally worth reading, but the film adds an actual resemblance of narrative to it which makes it more captivating.

And I dunno, I still love this one, but mostly the more science-fiction oriented material than the whimsy.

[Lord Dalek]

 

[No-Personality]

Old Yeller
(1957, directed by Robert Stevenson) -

Ahh, old-fashioned things... they're just so... old-fashiony, aren't they? Who doesn't love old-fashioned things? I mean, they're so... not modern. In Disney's saccharine stable of sentimentality, there's probably nothing more ancient -... I mean, quaint - and dusty - I mean, classic - than Old Yeller. The tale of a bygone yesteryear where things were really archaic. I mean: the tale of a family who are really boring and the vignettey things that happen to them revolving around a "yellow" dog. A good indicator of just what kind of a movie we're in for comes in the lyrics of the title song played during the opening credits = "though his coat was yeller, his bold Texas heart was true blue." Which is the same as saying: judge strength of character on the color of one's "coat." That isn't narrow minded or suggestive of racist mentality at all, it's... uh...: colorful wordplay (literally). Although, who does little Elizabeth remind you of? The film is easily best remembered and beloved because of the segments involving the bonding scenes between eldest sonchild Travis and the dog. Just why that is remains most mysterious to me at this time. Oh, there's nothing wrong with the dog. And... well, I suppose there's not much wrong with Travis either. Except that he isn't a very good character. In a film where characters are typically defined by how likable they are (read: in a Disney film), Travis may be the only one with any obstacles, but... what is it worth if he overcomes them? What does he win when he wins, what does he need? His family's affection? He already has that. Is this a matter of survival? As illustrated by... no one dying so we appreciate the value the film places on life itself (this will come back again, I promise)? Does he win a great big cosmic "Not Mr. Searcy" award? Thematically, this movie couldn't be more shallow. The vignette structure, along with occasionally batty closeups, makes it more like a sitcom. But, dramatically it likes to wrap almost all of its conflicts up within each scene they sprout up in. How... clean. And, frankly: lightweight. Which leaves you with a lot of room to go pillowy over how old-fashioned everything is.

I would say it baffles me that this film is held in such high regard but I loved it too when I first saw it. I wasn't paying attention. I didn't notice things like how flat-out abusive Travis was to Elizabeth. Or to what disturbing lengths the mother would go to defend Arliss. Or... well, Arliss. I have enough on him to write 2 whole paragraphs but the fact that I spent most of the movie riffing on ways I would enjoy seeing him viciously killed (my favorite was when he went fishing with Yeller and you knew he was about to fall in the water, I crossed my fingers and chanted: "lake of acid, lake of acid, lake of acid") is telling. Better yet is how the mother literally won't say or do anything to teach the bastard anything. You continue to watch him commit brazen acts of defiance and get away with it. (For some reason, this mentality struck me an awful lot of the kind of thing that's been going around in the Steubenville rape trial.) How is it possible for a parent with even dim wits about them to not at least slap him after rushing to open the pen of that dog, who is freaking snarling ravenously at him? There isn't a single logical defense for this behavior, or his extreme ignorance, in the world. The kid is 100% bad habits and the parents actually encourage it. His relationship with Travis negatively affects our only real character here as well, as we can only call it cheap manipulation that Arliss's getting away with murder is what ultimately fuels Travis to have his little angsty moment. It's things like this that make me argue that there's nothing really at stake in the movie. Except what the audience brings into it. Like: the ending cuts to our hearts so much because nobody wants their favorite pet to die, let alone to see it, let alone for it to be necessary (in a case that so often happens in real life- that they're suffering and we are legally allowed to put an end to it so long as it's an animal). As a person who had a lot of pets put down in his lifetime, what resonated most with me in the movie were the unbelievable load of bad messages. From how not to parent your child, to how to become a selfless fangirl (or... is this how they thought women wooed a man?), to how to teach a child to have a heart attack before he's old enough to drive.

I really hope we've moved on culturally from using movies to test the hearts of the people watching. Because, really, Bambi is just about mating. Nothing deeper than that. And how a movie frames its universal experiences can easily turn some still intelligent people off while others might argue that's not possible. There's no personal involvement in this story without strong characters. Nor is there any hope of relating to this experience when the people we're meant to identify with are padded for family film cliches or so blatantly labeled. Of course, this is a Disney specialty. They so rarely deviated from their own norm that what they wound up with as a body of work (other than bottomless global adulation- typically from people who like their family films as bare-boned as can be) were a collection of great moments in routinely hollow shells. The film is average on most levels, fairly flawed on others, and has one sole strength: Tommy Kirk's performance. I'd be tempted to call it heart-breaking if I thought the film had much heart. Like I said with Leagues, you can't turn this thing on and off at will. You have to skillfully craft characters and themes. Except for Kirk's own internal battle (there's no doubt in my mind he was going through something very difficult during filming), there's nothing strong here. Just familiar. That being said, I hope people keep enjoying this film. I liked... Fess Parker. (He's sure a lot better role model than Chuck Connors, who had Branded creator Larry Cohen fired when he learned Cohen's inspiration for the hit show was McCarthy-era blacklisted writers. Ahh, the good old days.)

[Dr. Ensatsu-ken]

I read the book and watched this movie A LONG time ago, so I'm not sure how either holds up. I remember that I loved both versions of the story as a kid, though.

[Daikun]

?

[Lord Dalek]

?

Nobody disses 20K Leagues.

...and not Old Yeller either.

[Dr. Ensatsu-ken]

Well, despite the disses, just hearing both of those movies mentioned again has enticed me to track them down and give each of them a much needed re-watch, whenever I get the time.

[Avaitor]

?

Nobody disses 20K Leagues.

...and not Old Yeller either.

As long as Pollyanna gets a pass, all is well.

Old Yeller is like Bambi to me- the production values and performances are well-done, and the well-remembered dramatic moment packs quite a wallop, but something holds me back from truly connecting to them emotionally.

[Foggle]

Even as a kid, Old Yeller never really connected with me for some reason.

[Dr. Ensatsu-ken]

Even as a kid, Old Yeller never really connected with me for some reason.

Most likely because you were born with a cold, black heart.