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.

My Top Ten Movies of the Early '90s ('90-'94)

I'm a child of both the '80s and the '90s, and many of my favorite movies come from those decades. In the first half of the '90s, I was between 9 and 13, and my pre-teen years were filled with some terrific cinema. These are my ten favorites. Give or take a few...

The Rescuers Down Under (1990) / Beauty and the Beast (1991) / Aladdin (1992) / The Lion King (1994) - Okay, so I'm totally cheating on this one because Disney could do no wrong in the early '90s. The sequel to The Rescuers rates just below the others only because it isn't a musical. I like it much better than the first; the animation of all that glorious Australian wilderness is fantastic, especially during the flying-on-the-eagle's-back sequences, and George C. Scott marvelously voices one of my favorite Disney villains. The last three all have amazing songs to go along with the brilliant animation and terrific stories. Beauty and the Beast boasts my favorite Disney heroine, Aladdin the most manic Disney sidekick ever and The Lion King my all-time favorite Disney opening sequence. I saw them all in the theater, and I have them all on tape. Disney doesn't get much better than this.

Ghost (1990) - Seems to me we bought this one on a whim at McDonald's for five bucks one time, and it quickly became a favorite, mostly due to the hilarious antics of Whoopi Goldberg as a crackpot psychic who can suddenly talk to dead people and the touching finale, which features a gorgeous orchestral version of Unchained Melody. Oh, and it's pretty darn romantic too.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1992) / Star Trek: Generations (1994) - Neither is my favorite Trek movie, but I think Undiscovered is the first one I saw in a regular theater. I seem to remember it being sold out the first time we tried to see it and being so frustrated about it that I bought the novelization. It's a landmark movie since it's the last to include the full original cast, and it's one of the most philosophical of the Trek films. Spock has some great moments with his protege, and the scene in which Uhura must pass herself off as a Klingon is hilarious. And all that Shakespeare isn't bad either. Generations is the first to feature the cast of The Next Generation, and it probably is my favorite of their films, partly because of the prominence of Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg again), an uncharacteristically serene character who tended to be underused, partly because of the chance to bring the two greatest captains of the Enterprise face to face with each other, partly because of the idyllic quality of the Nexus scenes, but mostly because I absolutely love Brent Spiner's performance as Data, my favorite character, learns to deal with his acquisition of human emotions.

Far and Away (1992) - I'd never heard of this before we watched it in my eleventh grade history class, but I quickly fell in love with it, and shortly after we finished it at school, I insisted we rent it at home. My family loved it as much as I did, so it wasn't long before we bought it, and watching it has become a St. Patrick's Day tradition. I love the humor, the sweetness of the opposites-attract romance, the cinematography, the historical interest, the score, the cast and of course all those Irish accents, even if some of them are phony. It's a movie that my brother and I still quote to each other frequently, and no matter how many times I hear it was a flop, it will be one of my favorites.

Sister Act (1992) - This was a second choice when Mom and I saw it on our annual back-to-school shopping outing. We'd planned to see 3 Ninjas, but it was sold out, so we gave this a try even though Mom had an idea that I'd find it boring. Well, it was anything but. Whoopi Goldberg had me in stitches again, and I found the real nuns at the convent where she goes into hiding to be wonderfully touching as well as funny. This is the movie that introduced me to Harvey Keitel and the formidable Maggie Smith, as well as a lot of great Motown music. I was singing the sisters' hit renditions of those songs for days, and I couldn't wait to get this one on video. Awesome music, side-splitting humor and a moving story of redemption. And nuns! What more could I ask for?

Free Willy (1993) - I saw this one on the next year's back-to-school outing and loved it just as much. I've always been a "save the whales" kind of gal, so I liked the premise, and I found the characters endearing and the film surprisingly free of objectionable material. A tough-on-his-luck kid name Jesse abandoned by his mother gets a new shot at life thanks to a similarly alone orca, his understanding trainers and a couple who want to welcome Jesse into their home despite his issues. It's a heartwarming movie, and that shot of Willy leaping over the barrier is as iconic as E. T. and Elliot flying across the moon. And its theme song, Will You Be There, still stands as my all-time favorite Michael Jackson song.

Angels in the Outfield (1994) - Probably my favorite sports-related movie, this film about a boy whose prayer for divine assistance for his favorite team is motivated by a desire for a family is a great tale of friendship and faith. Christopher Lloyd is his usual zany self as the main angel with whom young Roger communicates, and I love Danny Glover's performance as the cranky coach who begins to reassess his worldview when his team suddenly starts winning. The angels provide some terrific visuals as they help the players pull off some amazing stunts, but what I really love are the ways in which a little bit of faith transforms the characters for the better. And the image of the crowd standing en masse and giving the angel signal is one of my favorite movie moments.

Forrest Gump (1994) - I remember hearing about this movie on Good Morning America and thinking it looked interesting but probably wasn't a movie for kids. It stayed in the theater for ages; it seems inconceivable to me now that a movie could have lasted in the cinema for nearly a year, but I saw it in April of '95 with my mom and grandparents, the only movie the five of us have all seen together in the theater. And I really got what all the fuss was about. Tom Hanks is absolutely pitch-perfect as Forrest, a Bear of Little Brain But Much Heart. He might be a little slow, but it doesn't stop him from making his mark in a multitude of ways. Hanks' performance, an outstanding (and very quotable) screenplay that is as touching as it is hilarious, impressive special effects planting Forrest into historical footage and a soundtrack featuring a couple dozen of the best songs of the sixties and seventies are just some of the reasons I love this movie. I can't go more than a couple of years without watching it; from the moment Alan Silvestri's delicate feather theme begins to play, I am transported. I simply cannot watch this movie without emerging feeling a little better about life.

11 Pairs of Outstanding Animal Movies

I am an animal lover, so movies about animals have always been among my favorites. Here are ten pairs of outstanding animal flicks - eh, make it 11 for good measure. There are just way too many good ones out there...

Two Brothers / The Bear - If you're looking for outstanding nature footage, either of these will do. Both are efforts by director Jean-Jacques Annaud attempting to instill in audiences a respect for nature. The Bear barely has any dialogue at all, leaving the bulk of the action to the bears, while the few humans in the film don't have much to say. Two Brothers involves a lot more people, but once again the main focus is on two creatures of the same species making their way in the world when their well-being is threatened by humans.

Old Yeller / The Yearling - Tearjerkers. Just about everybody must know by now how Old Yeller ends, and The Yearling isn't any better. But in the meantime, they are great stories about powerful friendships between boys and the animals they love, and about how life forces those boys to grow up too quickly.

Bambi / The Lion King - In the first, we get haunting hints of humans, while in the second, there are no traces of people to be found. The animation on both films is gorgeous, displaying all the glory of two very different natural landscapes and its inhabitants. Both feature fairly carefree young princes that lose a parent, drastically change their living arrangements, fall in love with childhood playmates and take on the leadership roles they were born to play in closing scenes that echo the films' dramatic openings.

The Shaggy Dog / The Incredible Mr. Limpet - Pure silliness about people turning into animals. The former has more ridiculous sight gags than you can toss a stick at, and its sequels are similarly ludicrous. I haven't seen the recent Tim Allen adaptation, but despite advances in special effects, I can't imagine it provided more laughs than the original. The latter, meanwhile, boasts Don Knotts, who's always good for a laugh, and Don Knotts as a fish is even better. I'm always a fan of half-animated, half-life action films, and this one is lots of fun.

Beethoven / 101 Dalmatians - I like the original 101 Dalmtians just fine, but the new version tickles my fancy even more. It's just the right amount of slapstick for a modern-day Disney movie - not quite as relentless as in years past, but still plenty of well-executed gags, not to mention some very sweet moments, all those adorable puppies, and Hugh Laurie. And Beethoven may have gone a little overboard with the sequels, but the first one is a blast, another throwback to classic Disney family films; Dean Jones even shows up as a not-so-competent villain. Grand fun.

The Rescuers Down Under / Cheetah - Down with poachers! One of these is animated and the other live action, but both feature valiant struggles to save endangered creatures. One is a bald eagle, the other a cheetah. The latter is an inspiring story of friendship and determination complete with wonderful footage of Africa, while the former features dazzling animation of the Australian outback and its dazzling array of creatures, not to mention one of my all-time favorite Disney villains, voiced by George C. Scott.

Andre / Free Willy - Both of these inspirational movies are about children who are outcasts in one way or another bonding with aquatic mammals. In each case, the animal is the child's closest friend, yet the time comes when they realize that it is in the best interests of the creature to depart. Both films thus come to a conclusion that is both exhilarating and sad.

Fly Away Home / March of the Penguins - Two very different types of migration, both very inspiring. The first is more of a traditional movie than the second, telling the true story of a girl and her father who use ultra-lights to help guide a flock of geese to their proper home at the changing of the seasons. The second is more a general story of survival that repeats itself again and again. It's a documentary, but that doesn't signal boring, since the cinematography is exceptional and Morgan Freeman's narration has all the right shading to help us see the beauty in these creatures forced to cope with such a forbidding environment.

The Incredible Journey / Homeward Bound - Same story, two different versions. The first is a lot closer to the real story, and the movements of the animals on their epic trek are compelling enough on their own that there's no need to imagine dialogue for the intrepid pets. But when they do talk, in the second film, it adds another, albeit not quite as realistic, dimension to the tale. The dynamics of the three very different personalities add to the fun and allow for some truly heartwarming moments.

Watership Down / The Rats of NIMH - Two fairly dark animated films about small animals - rabbits and rats - trying to start over after their lives are fundamentally altered by humans. The somber tone of each is alleviated by a raucous bird providing comic relief and a gorgeously soothing theme song.

Babe / Charlotte's Web - And we mustn't forget about the pigs. These two films feature beautiful cinematography and state-of-the-art computer animation techniques allowing real animals' mouths to speak in synch with human actors. Both movies are adaptations of classic children's books about porkers who evade the slaughterhouse thanks to a combination of sweet-naturedness and very good friends. The latter ends on a bittersweet note, but the former's conclusion is just plain satisfying, in no small part thanks to James Cromwell's outstanding portrayal of the taciturn farmer who sees the possibilities in an unassuming little pig.

Well, I think that's more than enough. I was supposed to list ten and instead I mentioned 22. And I've no doubt seen another 22 that are worth a look. What can I say? Movies and animals. They just go together so well...

Sheldon and Blythe Help Us See How Precious The Whales' Song Is

One of my favorite movies is Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. While the clash of two cultures several hundred years apart makes it easily the funniest of the Star Trek films, its underlying message about the importance of preserving our endangered species is very serious indeed. "To hunt a species to extinction is not logical," Spock observes. Yet this is what has happened, and it's why a mysterious probe is ripping apart the Earth of the future with its unanswered whalesong, one of the most haunting series of vocalizations I have ever heard. We don't know just why the humpbacks sing, but we want them to be able to continue performing their underwater concerts for centuries to come.

In Dyan Sheldon's The Whales' Song, a folksy story driven by a series of richly detailed oil paintings by Gary Blythe, a mystical old woman imparts the magic of such musical offerings to her wide-eyed grand-daughter, Lilly. The setting seems to be an old fishing village, evidently not doing so well now that the whales are gone, evidently driven away by the likes of Frederick, a harsh-mannered whale hunter who appears to be the brother of the old woman. "Whales were important for their meat, and for their bone, and for their blubber. If you have to tell Lilly about the whales, then tell her something useful," he chides. "Don't fill her head with nonsense. Singing whales, indeed!"

We don't actually know the extent to which the whales have disappeared; I presume that they haven't been hunted to extinction in the context of this book but have sought refuge far from the reach of humanity, drawing near only on the rarest of occasions to connect with those individuals who understand how bereft the world would be without these majestic creatures. But there is a definite elegiac tone here that is unusual for a picture book.

The story is not particularly wordy, but I would probably recommend this for slightly older children. It would be a good book to read to a class of first- or second-graders as part of a unit on conservation. The lyrical style of the grandmother's storytelling effectively imparts the wisdom of protecting these ancient and magnificent giants of the ocean for the good of all.

While all of the illustrations are exquisite, the most entrancing ones are those depicting the whales gliding gracefully along underwater or bursting up through the waves, disrupting the serene horizon with their spray. In these paintings, we can almost hear the whales ourselves, and we are filled with the desire to experience such a phenomenon. The Whales' Song, then, is an important book, imparting a crucial lesson in the most artistic of ways. May the song of the whales continue warming the waters far into the future.

"Let's Free Willy!"

As soon as my dad and brother saw a preview for this movie at the movie theater, they knew I would love it. My brother eagerly told me about it when he returned home. So I was eager to see it, and I got my chance when Mom took me school shopping that August. After a morning of shopping and lunch at Chuck E. Cheese's, we settled in for one of my all-time favorite sappy movies.

Yes, I'll call it sappy. Free Willy has almost an E.T. feel to it, with a boy and a very non-human creature bonding and eventually the strength of that bond being tested when the creature's life is endangered. Free Willy begins with Jesse, a troublemaker who's spent his childhood in and out of foster homes, tearing up the town with a gang of friends. They eventually wind up at a run-down aquarium and proceed to decorate it with spray paint, until they are interrupted by authorities. Jesse is left holding the bag, and as punishment he must scrub off all the paint.

Meanwhile, he has been placed in a foster home with a couple who very much want to be a part of his life. They are eager to learn his interests and accommodate him, but Jesse takes a long time to warm up to them. And despite the statements of his kind-hearted but tough social worker, Jesse still believes that his mother is returning for him.

Jesse's life takes a turn for the better, however, when he encounters Willy, an orca who is the star attraction at the aquarium. The whale and the boy seem to understand one another, and Jesse is thrilled when Willy responds to the music of his harmonica and imitates his motions. All too soon his work at the aquarium is finished, and Jesse sneaks back at night to bid farewell to his friend. A slippery floor and panic at hearing footsteps lead Jesse to plunge into the tank, and miraculously, Willy comes to the rescue. Their bond is sealed, and Jesse's boss offers him a job working with Willy.

The plot thickens as Jesse learns that the park isn't making any money, and it will close down if they don't bring in some revenue soon. With the help of another whale trainer, Jesse is in a race against time to get Willy to deliver. And if Willy decides not to cooperate, the consequences will be far more dire than any of them could have imagined.

Free Willy is a fantastic movie about love. Love between two beings whom society has declared outcast, and how that love brings each of them home at last. The eventual conclusion is harrowing, bittersweet, and ultimately joyful, culminating in Michael Jackson's exuberant single, Will You Be There? All in all, a beautiful and heartwarming family film to be enjoyed by people of all ages.

A Triumphant Tragedy

I've reviewed this already, in the context of Make Mine Music. But when I saw that Willie had a video all to himself, I simply had to take the opportunity to let him have the spotlight all by himself. I first encountered Willie at the library when I was a toddler, at one of those afternoon movie viewings that they used to have. When Mom came to get me, I was bawling my eyes out; I insisted that there was something in my eye. When I saw it on Disney years later, I had to beg dust particle impairment once more. And if I watched it today, I'm sure I still would. Nothing can make me cry like this movie, even if it's only less than half an hour long.

I'm glad to have the chance to review this again because while supervising my brother's book swap, I came across a Disney book, the kind that used to come with a record, of this epic. I was thrilled...until I flipped to the end, at which point I threw down the book in disgust. "They changed the ending!" I shouted in dismay. This had to be some form of sacrilege.

I once read a review which lauded Walt Disney's chutzpah for ending Willie's saga so tragically. Disney is the land of happy endings, but the story of Willie is one of the saddest I've ever seen. For the uninitiated, it is the tale of a whale who has the ability to sing opera in three different voices -- all at once. When people begin hearing him singing out in the ocean, it causes an uproar. The news soon spreads to Tetti-Tatti, the great Italian discoverer of operatic talent. He's found opera stars in all sorts of strange places, so it seems conceivable that he could find one in the belly of a whale.

He sails out to sea with a group of sailors, determined to rescue the musical Jonah. Willie, however, believes that this is his big break, his audition which may allow him to realize his lifelong dream of singing at the Metropolitan Opera. He launches into an impressive setlist of opera tunes, and the harpooners are far too enchanted to dream of taking aim. After a while, Willie decides to show off his second voice, and Tetti-Tatti concludes, "He's-a swallowed two h'opera singers!" And when he sings in all three voices at once, Tetti-Tatti is thrilled at the prospect of finding three opera stars in the belly of one whale.

At the height of his most dramatic performance, Willie has entranced the sailors to the point that they are no longer guarding the harpoon. Seizing his opportunity, Tetti-Tatti takes aim and...a great splash, and the singing is forever silenced on Earth. Willie's seagull pal disconsolately floats around the spot where his friend fell, and a glorious sunset sweeps upward to reveal Willie, bedecked in a tiny pair of wings, singing to a celestial sold-out crowd as the narrator (who plays all the voices in this film) consoles the observers:

"Now Willie will never sing at the Met. But don't be too harsh on Tetti-Tatti. He just didn't understand. You see, Willie's singing was a miracle. And people aren't used to miracles. And you, my faithful little friend, don't be too sad. Because miracles never really die. And somewhere, in whatever Heaven is reserved for creatures of the deep, Willie is still singing. In a hundred voices, each more golden than before, and he'll go on singing, amid the applause and the cheering, forever."

It's all I can do to keep from crying as I type that. That is probably the most beautiful ending of an animated film ever, followed closely by Watership Down (whose ending is twice as beautiful in the book). The book for Willie is not an improvement. It is a travesty. Something to the effect of "Unfortunately, the net scared Willie away and he swam off into the ocean, never to return. So he'll never sing at the Met, but he'll keep singing in the ocean forever...at least we'd like to think so!" I'm shuddering as I write it. Why did Disney suddenly decide they had to shield children from the most touching tragedy ever to grace the screen? Whoever is responsible for that book, a thousand curses on your head. The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met is a tragedy; to make it otherwise is to betray its integrity and belittle its beauty. Treasure the movie, and avoid the book at all costs/

Down to Earth Humor

"Star Trek IV" is the contender for best Star Trek movie. It is as hilarious as "The Wrath of Khan" is touching. And it provides us sophisticated 20th-century folks with a look at our society of fifteen years ago. Have we changed that much? Hmm...

And beyond being hilarious, it also has a wonderful message. The Earth is being destroyed by a probe which is searching for hump-backed whales. The whales became extinct in the 21st century, and Earth's only hope is to go to the 20th century and bring a couple of hump-backed whales to the future. It shows just how important the protection of endangered species is.

Each of the crew members has a special task when they reach Earth. Chekov and Uhura have to try to find the Alameda naval base. Sulu gets a crash course in flying a helicopter. Scotty and Bones have to find plexiglass for their makeshift aquarium. And Spock and Kirk take on the mean streets of San Francisco to convince a marine biologist to let them beam the whales in her care on board.

From the moment Kirk and company land their cloaked Klingon bird of prey in the park, this movie is nonstop laughs. Experience all the "colorful metaphors," "dark age" medical technology, and other 1980s phenomena as seen from the viewpoint of our favorite folks from the future as they race to save Earth. And watch as Spock becomes a bit more human in the process.