Flying Whales and Lovelorn Ducks Make Fantasia 2000 Even Better Than the Original

Back in May, my brother graduated from college. When I peeked out the door that morning to see how the weather was shaping up, storm clouds loomed ominously, making Pomp and Circumstance from Fantasia 2000 feel doubly appropriate for the day. Not only is the song instantly associated with graduations, but in Disney’s 38th animated feature, it serves as the backdrop to a quirky riff on the story of Noah’s Ark, and we seemed to be in for a similar soaker. I’m not sure what happened to those rainclouds; by the time we got to the ceremony, the weather was gorgeous. Still, I’ve had that Disney segment rolling around in my head ever since, so I was happy to rewatch Fantasia 2000 recently.

When Walt Disney first conceived of Fantasia, which became the company’s third animated feature film, he intended to revive it periodically, retaining some segments and inserting new ones. That concept died after the rather unconventional movie using animation as a means of exploring classical music failed to prove as popular as he’d hoped, but six decades later, a sequel finally hit theaters. All new material except for the iconic Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the movie also features introductions by several celebrities and glimpses of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, which performed the music. Some of the presenters, particularly Steve Martin and magical act Penn and Teller, are comical, while others, like Quincy Jones and Angela Lansbury, give more serious introductions. Bette Midler’s is perhaps the most educational of the intros, while James Earl Jones’ thwarted dignity in his amuses me, as does Mickey Mouse’s panicked conversation with conductor James Levine.

As with the original, some segments stand out more than others, but each has a distinct style and tells a compelling story without the need for dialogue. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice remains just as engaging all these years later as Mickey, apprenticed to glowering wizard Yen Sid, seizes his chance to try on his boss’s magical hat and calamity, mostly involving multiplying, marching brooms carrying buckets of water, ensues. Exciting and entertaining with a built-in lesson on the dangers of meddling in complex matters without permission or assistance. Meanwhile, Pomp and Circumstance becomes a showcase for Donald and Daisy Duck as these two lovebirds sail on Noah’s Ark, each unaware that the other has survived the flood until they reunite at last once the boat strikes land. The familiarity of the song, the sweetness of their relationship and the humor involved with having so many different types of animals contained in one place makes this a standout segment, starting with the glorious animation of the Lion King-like summons that draws the creatures to the ark.

Carnival of the Animals does not have the diversity of animals one might expect from the name, but it is a delightful romp involving a serious, well-coordinated flock of flamingoes troubled by a prankster with a yoyo. One of the shortest and funniest segments, it shows the havoc a yoyo would wreak amidst a flock of these otherwise elegant birds. Instead of birds, butterflies and bats are the subject of the abstract short set to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. Colorful and stylized, it does not feature any distinct characters but weaves a joyful tale nonetheless. This first segment makes a nice match for the final segment, Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite, as they both involve the tug of war between light and dark, creation and destruction. In Firebird, a vile volcano sends magma rampaging through a tranquil wilderness as an elk and a gentle wood sprite watch in horror. This segment reminded me quite a bit of the forest fire portion of Bambi, and it is probably the darkest part of the movie, though the scenes of restoration are quite lovely.

Another harrowing tale is Hans Christian Andersen’s The Steadfast Tin Soldier, set to Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No . 2 in F Major-I. I was familiar with this story as a child but always found it terribly depressing; Disney gives it a much more conventional happy ending. One of the most strictly narrative of the segments, it features a plucky toy soldier, a beautiful toy doll and a hideous jack-in-the-box that would give just about any kid nightmares. Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue has a bit of a down tone to it, filled as it is with hard-luck cases wandering the streets in economic despair; after all, this is the Depression. The characters have a very interesting look to them, all one flat color or another, a reflection of the cartoons of Al Hirschfeld, a contemporary of Gershwin. Despite the air of disappointment and agitation hanging over New York City throughout much of the segment, there is also life and excitement, which we largely see from the perspective of one zesty character who is entirely too confident in his ability not to fall off of scaffolding. Ultimately a very fun piece.

My hands-down favorite, however, is The Pines of Rome, composed by Ottorino Respighi. In this mystical short, a family of humpback whales traverses the arctic by air rather than sea – though they never venture far from the water until the gloriously animated finale. The little whale who hasn’t quite mastered the newly acquired gift of flight prompts some laughter with his clumsy movements, but generally this segment feels solemn, with a beauty that almost brings tears to the eyes, particularly when the family joins with the larger pod. The short begins in disaster, yet there is the sense that these majestic creatures are moving toward something greater. Truly epic.

I’m not exactly an aficionado when it comes to symphonic music. I think I’d only heard about half of these songs in other settings, and as much as I enjoy them in this context, I haven’t sought the others out elsewhere. Still, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if some of those for whom Fantasia 2000 serves as an introduction to this type of music ended up immersing themselves in classical music. A triumph of art and silent storytelling, this is also a movie that can serve as a powerful introduction to some of the most notable composers of the last few centuries. Here’s hoping it won’t take another 60 years to see the next one.

James Earl Jones Impressively Narrates the Unimpressive Nine Dog Christmas

Over the past week, I’ve been scouring Netflix for Christmas movies and have come up with a few, most of which I’ve never heard of. Last night’s oddball film was a little 2001 animated flick called Nine Dog Christmas. The one mark in the movie’s favor going into it was the presence of James Earl Jones. With him serving as the austere narrator, surely it couldn’t be too bad...

This hour-long Christmas tale has two main threads that converge before long. In one, there’s a group of eight hard-on-their-luck mutts who wind up in the clutches of a nefarious Frenchman named Pierre (Randy Rice), who travels around in a sleigh pulled by his long-suffering dog Frenchie. As he carts them off to try to make a quick buck off of them, the pooches get to know each other. Australian Snowplow (Rice) and Scottish MacGregor (Thomas Garner) have authoritative airs that make them the ragtag gang’s de facto leaders. Among the rest, one is loopy, and two are rapidly falling in love with each other. Each dog has his or her own personality quirks.

Meanwhile, at the North Pole, Santa (Pat Fraley) has run into a problem, though he doesn’t realize it. The reindeer are down with the flu, and the elves scramble to find replacements before the boss finds out. Neurotic head elf Buzz (Scott Hamilton) is particularly distraught, and he enlists the aid of cheerful novice Agnes Anne (Russi Taylor) to find a new team of sled pullers in time. Whose path should they cross but those dogs in Pierre’s clutches? But getting them to Santa and training them for their takeover isn’t as easy as they might think.

I found the animation and voice work in this special to be pretty enjoyable. We hear a variety of different accents: French, Spanish, Scottish Australian. Several actors voice multiple characters, but that is never obvious, as each voice is entirely distinct from the others. Jones makes a fantastic narrator, just as one would expect, and many of the actors lace their vocal performances with humor.

The story, however, is rather weak. Replacing reindeer with dogs doesn’t seem like such a good idea, and why go so far away to recruit? Couldn’t the elves simply round up some moose or polar bears? I would think that anyone living in proximity to the North Pole would be happy to lend Santa a hand. For that matter, if size is so unimportant, the elves could probably pull the sleigh themselves. Then again, they might be just a little bit small for the job. Additionally, the conclusion of the movie, while rather heartwarming, makes little sense, as it involves Santa getting dragged back to the North Pole by a tow truck.

Pierre makes a rather entertaining villain who seems modeled after McLeach, the poacher from The Rescuers Down Under, right down to the disgruntled animal sidekick and our last shot of him in the movie. I found it hard to keep most of the dogs straight, but it’s not really all that important; the majority of the pooches are just filler to get to that magic number that is the same as the reindeer. I like intrepid Agnes, voiced by one of the regulars on the wonderful kids‘ show Jakers!, and Buzz has a couple of good moments, but the rest of the elves are inconsequential.

There’s also the matter of the music. The over-the-top love ballad seemed like something out of the cringe-worthy From Justin to Kelly, and the repeated song about “sticktoitivity” is a strange combination of rap and power ballad that doesn’t seem to gel at all and annoyed my mom hugely. Gary Morris, who wrote the songs, has won a Grammy for his work before, but that background is not evident here.

It wasn’t a terrible way to spend an hour, but I’ve certainly seen better Christmas specials. Unless you’re really hard up for something Christmassy, I’d skip Nine Dog Christmas.