I grew up during a very exciting time for Disney fans. In second grade, The Little Mermaid
 hit theaters, and for the next few years, it was just a steady stream 
of masterpieces. I’ve heard a bit of Disney history here and there but 
never delved in too deeply behind the scenes, so it was fascinating for 
me to watch Waking Sleeping Beauty, the documentary that deals 
with Disney’s Renaissance in the 1980s and 1990s. Directed and narrated 
by Disney insider Don Hahn, it details some of the circumstances and 
personalities that came together to create the atmosphere in which 
Disney’s flagging animation department would suddenly find itself on top
 of the world again. 
The movie focuses a lot of its attention 
upon Disney power players Roy Disney, Mike Eisner and Jeffrey 
Katzenberg, each of whom had an important impact upon the Disney legacy,
 though their contributions were not always appreciated at the time. For
 me growing up, Eisner was always the face that I associated most with 
Disney, aside from Walt himself, who was long gone. The movie even 
includes a clip of him introducing a featurette about the making of Beauty and the Beast
 which I remember vividly enough from nearly 20 years ago that I knew 
exactly what he was going to say next. Of course, Katzenberg and Roy 
Disney were familiar names too, and it was interesting to see how they 
interacted with each other and with the crew of animators working with 
them. Sometimes, it was a bit disheartening as well. 
The 
documentary is filled with archive footage of interviews with people 
involved in the making of various Disney movies, sketches and 
storyboards, voice recording sessions, news clips, behind-the-scenes 
glimpses of the studio, rejected film footage and all kinds of other 
goodies. One thing we see a lot of is caricatures of the various bosses,
 usually quite unflattering. There’s a lot of eyes bugging out and 
mouths spewing fire and that type of thing. Disney may be the most 
magical place on Earth, but its animation department comes across as a 
very stressful work environment, with constant pressure from the 
higher-ups as well as the animators pushing themselves to give 110 
percent every day. They often seem frustrated, but at the same time, we 
get a definite sense of their passion for the work. 
Throughout 
the film, dozens of personalities come into play. We get to know Frank 
Wells, who came in with Eisner and was credited with being the 
peacemaker among the bigwigs, keeping all those egos from erupting and 
poisoning the task at hand. There’s Katzenberg, who was put in charge of
 Disney’s motion picture division around the time Eisner became CEO, and
 Don Bluth, who devastated the animation department by walking off with 
half the artists in 1979. I feel a twinge of guilt for loving Bluth’s 
movies, especially An American Tail, The Land Before Time and Anastasia,
 so much, but maybe if he hadn’t taken off when he did, it wouldn’t have
 paved the way for one of the most exciting eras in Disney’s history. 
It’s
 funny to catch glimpses of not-yet-famous people like Tim Burton, who 
on a trip through the studio sits morosely at his animation desk, too 
absorbed in his work to muster a smile for the camera. It’s also neat to
 see how the media reacted to various developments, and interviews with 
journalists like Diane Sawyer and a coy Jeopardy reference to a 
contentious Disney decision are fascinating. For me, though, the most 
riveting portion of the movie involved lyricist Howard Ashman. I hadn’t 
realized just how integral he was to the development of the movies he 
worked on. His enthusiasm was infectious, particularly in the scene in 
which he describes his vision for the song Under the Sea, and 
it’s apparent just how deep his love for these stories and characters 
really was. Watching him pour out his soul into these songs, it occurred
 to me that when it comes to dream jobs, Disney lyricist would have to 
be right near the top of my list. Getting into these fantastic 
characters’ heads with warmth and witty wordplay and crafting moments 
that would become among the most memorable in the Disney canon? Yeah, 
that sounds pretty good to me. 
Of course, Ashman’s story is also
 deeply tragic, as he was ravaged by AIDS just a few short years after 
joining the Disney family, and he never got to see the complete version 
of his greatest triumph, the Best Picture-nominated Beauty and the Beast.
 The documentary poignantly discusses the disconnect between the 
adrenaline rush of receiving a standing ovation in response to the film,
 which at that point included several stretches with only rough 
animation, and the cold horror of visiting Ashman in his hospital room 
afterward and finding him shriveled away to a mere 80 pounds. Beauty and the Beast
 was a project that Walt Disney himself had wanted to tackle, and it had
 just never worked out. Even this time around, the first attempt to pin 
the movie down was a flop, as we see in the strange footage of a 
scrapped draft that bears no resemblance whatsoever to the finished 
film. Somehow, though, everyone rallied to create a perfect piece of 
cinema with gorgeous animation, a heroine Disney is unlikely ever to top
 and songs that reveal character in an especially brilliant way. The 
eloquent dedication to Ashman at the conclusion of Beauty and the Beast
 is a testament to his total immersion in the movie and the respect and 
affection he garnered from all those who worked on it with him, and the 
documentary uses the classic’s most heartbreaking scenes to express the 
communal sorrow at losing this incredible talent. 
I knew the 
basics of how Ashman’s life ended coming into the movie, so while I 
found the time spent on him especially moving, I knew what was coming. 
But I never really knew anything about Wells, and I honestly don’t 
remember a thing about the helicopter crash that cut his life sadly 
short, effectively ending that golden era of Disney. That’s not to say 
that Disney – particularly in collaborations with Pixar – hasn’t 
produced anything worthwhile since then, but after The Lion King,
 a certain something just wasn’t quite there anymore. It’s sad to learn 
of all the disharmony at play in this company designed to turn dreams 
into reality. I am glad that Hahn decided to reveal this chapter of 
Disney history and introduce us to people like Wells and animator Joe 
Ranft, who, like Ashman, died very young. The documentary is dedicated 
to those three, along with Roy Disney, who died after the film was 
completed but was added to the dedication. So much of what happens at 
Disney is totally out of the public eye, and it’s nice to get to know 
some of these people who were so integral to the company’s success. 
The
 movie runs about an hour and a half in length, and if you watch all the
 special features, that’s gotta be close to another hour and a half. I 
was especially interested in the featurette about the making of the 
documentary and the tours of the animation department in three different
 years, with lots of peeks at a zany, highly creative crew that seemed 
to have a lot of bitterness bubbling under the surface. 
The best
 bit, though, was the series of deleted scenes, most of which primarily 
involved Ashman. It was moving to hear the others talk about the pain of
 losing him and of cutting his intensely personal Proud of Your Boy from Aladdin and neat to watch him coach Jodi Benson on how to properly convey the emotion of Part of Your World (which, astonishingly, was nearly cut from The Little Mermaid
 after the sequence failed to connect with children for whom it was 
screened). But this aspiring lyricist (who signed up every year in high 
school for a History of Musical Theater class that was always cancelled 
due to lack of interest) was most fascinated by the 12-minute-long clip 
of his lecture on the role of music in movies and the correlation 
between Broadway and animated musicals. Totally absorbing. 
Different
 people will no doubt be drawn to different aspects of this documentary.
 For me, it was Ashman who most captured my imagination, but I loved 
getting to see all of those little tidbits from within the Disney vaults
 and hearing these insiders reminisce about such an exhilarating time. 
If you find Disney as irresistible as I do, you might want to have a 
look at Waking Sleeping Beauty yourself. 
 
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