Number 3100: Explore Inside the Dream: The Personal Story of Walt Disney

Back in May, I timed my 3000th post here on Epinions to coincide with the eight Epi-versary of my fellow bookworm Beth. When I realized that my reviewing pace was putting my 3100th review in close proximity to the Epi-versary of another extraordinary Epinionator, I pondered what might make an appropriate subject of a review to celebrate the marvelous Mark’s six years on the site. Then I happened upon Inside the Dream: The Personal Story of Walt Disney, and I stopped looking and started reading.

I had already seen the documentary from which this coffee table book by Katherine and Richard Greene arose, and I found it thoroughly enjoyable, so I went into this handsome biography with high expectations, and I’m happy to say they were met. Though it’s not quite 200 pages long, the hefty size allows for a fair amount of writing on each page, along with illustrations in the form of photos, sketches, movie stills, posters, memos, newspaper clippings and all sorts of other visual materials. Even those who aren’t too interested in Walt himself might want to browse through this book simply for the wealth of visual materials showing classic characters and attractions in their early stages.

The book includes a foreword by Diane Disney Miller, the older of Walt’s two daughters, and the book frequently quotes her as well. Sadly, Walt’s younger daughter, Sharon, died in 1993, several years before these interviews were conducted, but earlier recollections from her and other deceased relatives and associates pop up here and there. Most of the quotes, however, come from the Greenes’ interviews with 77 people who had some kind of personal connection to Walt, whether through family, friendship or business.

As the Introduction explains, the raw material for the documentary included about 38 hours of interviews that had to be whittled down to fit into an hour-and-a-half-long movie. Creating a book allowed more room for these voices to be heard. That’s not to say that the book is nothing but a collection of quotes. Instead, it is a cohesive narrative told in five parts, each broken down further into multiple sections.

First Dreams focuses on Walt’s young adulthood and his early forays into animation and movies. Here the Greenes recount his earliest projects, including the Alice in Wonderland shorts, which involved a real child immersed in a fantastical animated land; Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Walt’s first major animated character; the creation and renaming of Mickey Mouse; and the beginning of the Silly Symphonies. Half of the six sections involve Walt’s career, while the other half deal with his personal life, focusing on his parents, Flora and Elias; his wife, Lilly; and his fondness for the sport of polo.

Worlds to Conquer begins with the ambitious experiment of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs before delving into the darker days of the animators’ strike and World War II, both of which had a major impact upon the studio’s productivity. Broken into seven sections, this part also discusses Walt’s passion for constantly improving his craft, from bringing live animals into the studio for Bambi to pushing the boundaries of animation with Fantasia. It also touches on his goodwill trip to South America, out of which came the movies Saludos Amigos and The Three Caballeros, and his massive output of films for the government. It was a time of intense highs like the Snow White premiere and crushing lows like his mother’s death by asphyxiation, and it ultimately led to a shift in focus.

New Horizons deals with Walt’s foray into live action, discussing his action films and documentaries and his decision to embrace television rather than fearing it as a threat to his success as a filmmaker. This part of the book, which includes 11 sections, is the longest, encompassing Walt’s passion for nature, his ability to see the possibilities inherent in television, his fondness for trains and the delight he took in carefully crafting his two major theme parks, only one of which he would live to see opened. It also discusses the animated films of the time, and some of the tidbits here are fascinating. For instance, the scene at the beginning of Lady and the Tramp in which Jim presents the Cocker Spaniel puppy to his wife in a hatbox was inspired by Walt having done the same thing. I also found it interesting that Walt disliked Alice in Wonderland, one of the few animated Disney features I don’t particularly enjoy, complaining that it had no heart. Not so with Cinderella, which was being crafted at the same time, and the recollection of Walt’s idea to have Ilene Woods, who voiced her, harmonize with herself is wonderful. Throw in the broad comedies like The Shaggy Dog and The Parent Trap that are the focus of the last section, and this is a very packed chapter.

Tomorrow Land features eight sections and concludes with Walt’s death in 1966. It spends a good chunk of time on Mary Poppins, considered by many to be Walt’s crowning achievement in the realm of movies. Here we read about the tug-of-war with P. L. Travers, who wrote the books upon which the movie is based, and the warm sense of synchronicity among Walt and the Sherman Brothers when it came to their vision for this film. When I watched The Boys, a documentary about the Sherman Brothers, last year, I first heard the story recounted here about how deeply Walt connected to the song Feed the Birds. “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” he said of the song, which he often asked “the boys” to play for him. This anecdote particularly moves me because that’s always been my favorite song in the movie and one of my favorite Disney songs period. New to me, and quite amusing, was Dick Van Dyke’s confession that he so wanted to play the senior banker that he offered to do it for free and actually ended up paying for the privilege, as Walt wheedled him into donating $4000 to CalArts, an institute for the arts that he founded and to which he left half his estate. The remainder of the chapter discusses Walt’s involvement in the World’s Fair, his obsession with city planning and vision for Epcot, his enthusiasm for travel, his last months and the reaction to his death. As my grandpa was the same age as Walt when he died, also of quickly-progressing lung cancer, this sad final portion particularly resonates with me.

Finally, Walt’s Legacy is far shorter and is basically just a collection of nine commentaries by various experts about Walt’s impact upon the world. These include late news anchor Walter Cronkite, film scholar Leonard Maltin and children’s book author Maurice Sendak. Science fiction author Ray Bradbury, a close friend of Walt’s for the last couple years of his life, gets the final word, eloquently discussing the positive difference he made.

The book is formatted so that you can easily read a section in one sitting and then decide whether you want to go on to the next one right away or just let those few pages simmer a while. The larger part of the book deals with his career, but the personal sections take up almost as much space. The design makes leafing through the sections simple. I especially like that each career-focused section is printed on a white background and has a headline of white letters against a red strip, while the personal sections have beige backgrounds and the headline strip is gold. Meanwhile, the quotes scattered throughout both sections stand out, with some in blue pull-out boxes and others in yellow or beige. Meanwhile, all of Walt’s quotes are in red letters and simply printed against the white background instead of boxed in. The book is loaded with great quotes that lend insight to Walt directly or indirectly, but of the ones I hadn’t heard or read before, the one that stood out most to me is this from Walt: “All right, I’m corny. But I think there’s just about a hundred and forty million people in this country who are just as corny as I am.” I’m happy to be one of them.

This book presents a vivid picture of an extraordinary man from humble beginnings who was forever driven by his creativity and his desire to keep making new innovations. He comes across as a perfectionist but not a workaholic; while he was always very hands-on with his films, television projects and theme park plans, he was also a devoted father who always took time to play with his daughters. A strong work ethic and a sense of childlike wonder helped propel his company, as did his willingness to take huge financial risks. As this book was conceived partly as a response to unflattering portraits of Walt that emerged after his death, one might say that its unfailingly sunny portrayal is a bit suspect; every time a situation comes up in which Walt’s actions are called into question, he comes out in the right. Does the book lionize him a bit too much? Maybe. But even if there might be some less palatable aspects of his personality left unexplored, the dozens of positive anecdotes strengthen the credibility of the authors, and his body of work and subsequent legacy speak for themselves.

This December marks the 110th anniversary of Walt’s birth. It’s a great time to get to know the man behind the Mouse a little better. Unless you’re already an expert – and maybe even if you are – you should find some new insights within Inside the Dream: The Personal Story of Walt Disney. I certainly did. Thank you, Walt – and Mark, too – for making the world a more magical place.