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Disney Literature Challenge:
WINNIE-THE-POOH
THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER
by A. A. Milne
If you want to learn something about the impact of voice on a story, read the old school Winnie the Pooh stories by A.A. Milne. Even though Disney lifted the plots and characters and a heap of dialog without much meddling, in spite of creating an animated storybook complete with text and narrator, there's still something missing.
That something is the gentle earnestness of Milne's voice. For whatever reason, it just doesn't translate. Disney's Pooh is sort of dopily lovable, which endears him to millions of people -- even me, once upon a time. But no more. I accept no substitutes. (Besides, once you've worked at a place called
Halfway Down the Stairs, Milne spinoffs are strictly
verboten.)
Verdict:
Milne
Score:
Disney - 6
Authors - 8
********************
Currently re-reading:
Living Dead Girlby Elizabeth Scott
Disney Literature Challenge:
ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND
ALICE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
by Lewis Carroll
Even though I'd read the first book years ago, somehow I expected Lewis Carroll's prose to be much more stuffy and old-fashioned. Blame J.M. Barrie. To my chagrin,
Alice turns out to be a heap more accessible than my beloved
Peter Pan; Carroll is more playful and far less prone to asides and lectures than Sir Barrie. When the plot is so loaded with nonsense, it's a wise author who doesn't go for a lot of stylistic flourishes.
A note on the artwork:
Normally I'm a traditionalist, but I make special exception when it comes to Helen Oxenbury's illustrations. They're so cozy and ageless, as opposed to Tenniel's stiffly Victorian originals. I don't see how anyone could resist the whimsy and design of these particular editions:
As for the film, Disney pretty much cherry-picked scenes from both books and jumbled them up as he saw fit. Nevertheless, with the exception of the contrived unbirthday party, those individual scenes stick closer to the source than much of the Disney canon. The styling of characters like Alice, the cheshire cat, and the Tweedle twins is remarkably similar to John Tenniel's illustrations as well.
However, much as I usually appreciate the way Disney smartens up the pacing of classic stories, in Alice's case, it backfired. Without the added support of plot or character development the storyline's rendered into a frenetic string of encounters. Whimsy gets pushed to the wayside, and turns the mood much more brash and garish than Carroll's comfortable tales.
Matter of fact, Disney himself never cared much for how the animated Alice turned out, so I don't think even he would dispute my ruling in this match.
Verdict:
CARROLL
Score:
Disney - 5
Authors - 7
Incidentally,
this happens to be my favorite film version of Alice (orange dress notwithstanding). Perhaps a bit hokey, but there's a holy royal truckload of old school star power strutting around in those crazy costumes.
*****************
Currently reading:
Elskeby Cynthia Voigt
Disney Literature Challenge:
THE BLACK CAULDRON
by Lloyd Alexander
Some years ago, I embarked on a Newbery marathon that involved a detour through
The Book of Three on my way to
The High King. I don't remember much about Lloyd Alexander's original story, other than I didn't hang around in the land of Prydian long enough to make it to the silver medal-winning second installment for which the Disney movie is named. But my indifference, as you'll soon see, is beside the point.
The other night, I grabbed the DVD from the library on a whim and sat through the whole thing. More accurately, I ranted my way through it, because the film version has all the artistry and subtlety of a Saturday morning cartoon series. Despite the fact that it contains the only dribble of animated blood I can recall ever slipping out of the Walt Disney studios,
The Black Cauldron is so spectacularly crummy on screen that I don't care how Disney's version of the story matches up with the Prydian books -- it's a disgrace to Disney's reputation as much as Lloyd Alexander's. For Pete's sake, the best thing I can say for it is that I liked the way Gurgi, the requisite fuzzy lovable sidekick, says "munchems and crunchems" in his gurgly voice. That's absolutely
it.
Verdict:
Forfeit to ALEXANDER
Score:
Disney - 5
Authors - 6
Disney Literature Challenge:
BASIL OF BAKER STREET
by Eve Titus
Just when I'd become accustomed to berating Walt Disney for draining the delicacy out of the finer characters of children's literature, along comes
Basil of Baker Street.
In Eve Titus, Disney's animators found an author who was no slouch at mapping out a tight, straightforward story. And then they proceeded to invent a plot of their own. Okey-dokey, then. Moving on.
But Titus's characters, however endearing in their mousiness, aren't much more than servants to the plot - perhaps an unfair criticism in a mystery series geared toward lower el reader, but for once, Disney took the opportunity to expand on those personalities instead of stripping them down. So while both versions of the rodent detective have equal sleuthing abilities, Disney's Basil doesn't just sweetly emulate Sherlock Holmes, he's cast in the same mold as his human counterpart, right down to his ego, moodiness, and disdain for social niceties. Yet the folks at Disney managed to squeeze some emotional growth into the little hard-nose, accentuated by the charm of the supporting cast.
And if that's not enough to sway you, consider that the movie boasts the voice talent of Mr. Vincent Price as the villain Rattigan. Case closed.
Verdict:DISNEY
Score:Disney - 5
Authors - 5
******************
Currently reading:
Dandelion Wineby Ray Bradbury
Disney Literature Challenge:
THE SWORD IN THE STONE
by T.H. White
I fully expected to find that Disney had massacred the Arthurian legend, what with dancing sugar bowls, wizards' duels, and snarky talking owls. In fact, White's version is a bit ambly, but not so different from the movie as I'd expected. Turns out Merlin's bungling habits and outlandish references to modern culture and conveniences are the author's invention, not Uncle Walt's - right down to
"Blow me to Bermuda!" Although as usual, Disney's guilty of assembling his characters out of those quirks and eccentricities and little else; these aren't characters so much as caricatures of the personalities White created.
What you gain from White's subtler character nuances, however, you lose in pacing, and now and then the dialect gets thick enough to stumble over. So truth be told, even though the book is superior, I personally enjoyed the movie more.
Verdict:WHITE
Score:Disney - 4
Authors - 5
Disney Literature Challenge:
THE HUNDRED AND ONE DALMATIANS
by Dodie Smith
What Disney pulled straight out of the book:
- the puppy who almost didn't make it
- Cruella de Vil's wacky hairdo and "absolutely simple white mink cloak"
- various puppy names: Lucky, Roly-Poly, Patch
- various memorable lines of dialog (mostly Cruella's)
- the Twilight Bark
- the Badduns
- "What's My Crime" on TV
- the most strident motor horn in England
- a barn full of friendly cows
- the miraculous moving van
- lots of soot
What Uncle Walt left behind, for better or worse:
- Cruella's extreme fondness for pepper
- Christmas
- Pongo's wife's ditziness
- extra characters: a second nanny, a canine wet-nurse, Cruella's husband
- a few pesky logistical issues
- Cruella's Persian cat
- revenge
For the most part, Disney's guilty of little worse than streamlining the character list and smartening up the pacing. Changed a few names here and there, altered Mr. Dearly's (aka: Roger Radcliffe's) occupation to allow for that catchy theme song. On the plus side, he turned Pongo's wife into a creature with more than half a brain, instead of a canine cousin to Gracie Allen. (Seriously, we're supposed to find it endearing that 'Missus' can't find a haystack in a field, doesn't know left from right, and "had never understood machinery"?) Matter of fact, I can't find a single unforgivable offense in this book-to-film conversion.
Besides, the movie's just great fun. The tunes are jaunty, the animation's loose and casual without straying toward sloppy, and it's got the most delightful opening credits known to man. Plus, that priceless opening scene with all the matching dogs and masters strolling by Pongo's window. Truth be told, I would have forgiven Disney a lot of liberties just for concocting that one scene, but fortunately, I don't have to.
Verdict:
TIE!
Score:
Disney - 3
Authors - 4
*****************
Currently reading:
Bed-Knob and Broomstick
by Mary Norton
Disney Literature Challenge:
PINOCCHIO
by Carlo Collodi
Things you will recognize from the movie:
- a moralistic cricket
- a swindling cat and fox
- a long-suffering Geppetto
- a conveniently-appearing blue-haired fairy
- a fat puppeteer with a nasty temper
- a really big fish
But Pinocchio himself? This ain't no sweetie pie puppet; you'd never get a kid with a cutesy name like Dickie Jones to voice the REAL Pinocchio. Collodi's puppet is a lazy, naive, insolent hooligan, and his story is one of the preachiest excuses for entertainment I've ever run across. The original Pinocchio is a virtually plotless wonder, loaded down with unapologetic speeches about going to school, telling the truth, associating with the right crowd, and working for a living. You almost need Pinocchio's bad-ass attitude to make up for it. And you know what? I would have squashed that self-righteous cricket, too.
Although Disney's version of the puppet himself is sweet enough to give you cavities, I've got to say that Uncle Walt actually improved the story line. By introducing the I-want-to-be-a-real-boy premise right off the bat, he injected the plot with some much-needed direction and motivation, and even watered down the moralism a notch or two, believe it or not. Since Pinocchio's blatantly enlisted to "prove [him]self brave, truthful, and unselfish" as means to an end, the lessons along the way are much more tolerable.
The film isn't without its darkness, though. It's heavy and brooding, despite the best efforts of the Blue Fairy and Jiminy Cricket to lighten things up. Stromboli's explosive rages used to scare the bejeezus out of me. That whole Pleasure Island bit with the boys running wild and turning into jackasses has an aura of hysteria about it that's downright macabre. And I still remember the zing of horror I felt when Pinocchio is discovered face down in a tide pool, apparently drowned. I doubt Disney would have the moxy to animate a scene like that nowadays. (Wimps.) "When You Wish Upon a Star" may have become the Walt Disney Company's buoyant anthem, but it's very nearly contradictory to the mood of its origins, both in the film and Collodi's original.
Animation buffs, however, will tell you that Disney's
Pinocchio is a triumph of the craft. Sweeping
multi-plane camera scenes, hand-painted backgrounds done in oils on glass, and copious special effects like airbrushing Figaro's fur and overlaying footage of real rain into the storm scenes mark this as the pinnacle of old school Disney animation. It is a wonder to behold.
The children's literature purists may smack me for this, but I say forget the book --banish the toddlers and watch the movie instead. I...um...didn't even finish the book myself.
Disney Literature Challenge:
THE RESCUERS
by Margery Sharp
Margery Sharp's novel is a story firmly centered on its mouse characters. Matter of fact, the prisoner they're endeavoring to rescue is never actually identified by name, only as a Norwegian poet whose crime is unspecified, and you don't find out for sure if he's even alive until longabout the last third of the book. Which is fine and dandy, because this is really a tale about three unlikely characters banding together to accomplish the impossible, and I must say I far prefer the original characterizations.
Margery Sharp's Bernard is earnest, resourceful, and protective - albeit unrefined - while Disney turns him into a superstitious bungler. The orignal Miss Bianca pulls off a charming combination of naivete and determination, but in spite of choosing a potentially perfect voice with Eva Gabor, Disney's version comes off as overly vain and breezy. Kinda like, well...cartoons. Sharp's mice are also much more rodent than human - barring the occasional piece of jewelry or pair of sea boots, of course. None of Disney's cutesy little sweaters, capes and suitcases, though. Still, the novel conveys a cozy feel along the lines of
The Borrowers.
I probably can't criticize Disney's plot without reading a further installment in the Rescuers series,
Miss Bianca, which is apparently the source for the story of Penny's rescue. There's also not a lot of room for nit-picking when the credits clearly state the movie was "suggested" by the books. I suspect, though, that at the very least Disney ramped up Penny's role and milked the little orphan girl sympathy for all it was worth. I also wonder if Sharp's version of this rescue is set in the bayous of the American south, seeing as the author and her mice were British. Those liberties I can handle, but allow me a brief lament nontheless: Nils, for Pete's sake! There's not a trace of Nils the stalwart sailor-mouse in Disney's adaptation. Humpf.
Most of my affection for the movie, strangely enough, is due to Madame Medusa. See, I can't quite get over the fact that Geraldine Page, who played sweet old hymn-humming Mrs. Watts in
The Trip to Bountiful, also manages to voice Madame Medusa's manic antics. She's even more garish than Cruella DeVil, and that's quite a feat. Plus, she reminds me a bit of Norma Desmond in
Sunset Boulevard.
Random cultural whoopsie: At the Rescue Aid Society meeting, there are delegates from loads of countries in Europe and Asia, but just one from "Africa." Way to go, Uncle Walt.
Technically speaking, the animation's on the crummy side if you ask me, with a lot of Medusa's lines falling out of sync with her lips. On the plus side, though, it looks like they managed to overlay some live-action fireworks into Miss Bianca and Bernard's arrival at the swamp. And was that a teensy cameo of Bambi and his momma during the sappy song?
******************
Currently reading:
Disney Literature Challenge:
THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
by Kenneth Grahame
Uncle Walt sure did a number on this one. Seems to me the movie skims all the excitement off the top and leaves the majority of the charm behind. Whoever knew rodents and amphibians could be so dear? Poor old Mr. Grahame must be quietly sniffling in his grave. Consider this sweet little story, told by the book's best-known illustrator, Ernest Shepard:
"Kenneth Grahame was an old man when I went to see him. Not sure about this new illustrator of his book, he listened patiently while I told him what I hoped to do. Then he said, 'I love these little people, be kind to them.' Just that; but sitting forward in his chair, resting upon the arms [...] he told me of the river nearby, of the meadows where Mole broke ground that spring morning, of the banks where Rat had his house, of the pools where Otter hid, and of the Wild Wood way up on the hill above the river, a fearsome place but for the sanctuary of Badger's home, and of Toad Hall. He would like, he said, to go with me to show me the river bank that he knew so well, '...but now I cannot walk so far and you must find your way alone.'"
Ernest Shepard did indeed find his way alone, so much so that Grahame said upon seeing his drawings, "I'm glad you made them real."
Uncle Walt, on the other hand, wasn't nearly so gentle or respectful. The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad is all full of swagger and bluster, which is fine and dandy for Toad, but misses the boat entirely when it comes to Mole and Rat. Disney cast them as supporting characters when in fact it was their story to begin with, a lovely little hammock story full of kindness and good cheer, only occasionally interrupted by Toad's escapades.
On the other hand, isn't it interesting that in the Disney version, the plot of Toad's motorcar trials is altered so that Toad becomes more or less innocent? For all the story's sweetness, Grahame had no qualms about painting Toad as a silly, boastful lawbreaker, but Disney only had the stomach to frame him. Sissy.
Another minor fascination: published in 1906, The Wind in the Willows is roughly 20 years older than Bambi, yet the language comes across as infinitely more readable and less dated. Perhaps because Bambi was originally written in German and likely suffers from Dusty Translation Syndrome. Or perhaps Grahame was just the better writer. Until I become fluent in German, that's the way I'm voting.
********************
Currently reading:
Bewitching Season
by Marissa Doyle
How can you possibly RE-read Living Dead Girl?! You are a much braver and daring reader than me, for certain.
At some point, should we meet, I would love to talk to you off-line about this book!
We may have had words if you'd gone the other way on this one. :o) Agreed, there's nothing quite like the original Pooh. Plus, the Disney voices have never sounded right to me.
Laura - Do you iChat? AIM? YIM? There are ways...
K - Never fear. (But did you know that Piglet's voice is one of the poker players in the Odd Couple?)