White Wilderness - August 12, 1958

Today marks the 50th Anniversary of one of Walt Disney's most celebrated films in the True-Life Adventure series, White Wilderness. Released on August 12, 1958, it was a distinct commercial success and would go on to win that year's Academy Award for feature length documentary.

It would gain a degree of notoriety a quarter century later, when in 1982, a Canadian Broadcasting Company documentary on animal cruelty would accuse the filmmakers of staging scenes and perpetuating the myths of lemming suicides. Though commendable for its overall expose of animal cruelty in motion picture making, the report tended to exaggerate Disney's propagation of the lemming suicide myth.

The makers of the True-Life series did in fact play hard and loose with filming and footage. But those individuals have long made no secret of such efforts and documentaries and interviews on the recent True-Life Adventure DVDs attest to their forthrightness. While the lemming scene in White Wilderness was admittedly staged, it has since been misrepresented rather frequently, accusing the Disney filmmakers of forcing the creatures over the cliff to their deaths. As noted by both the film's narrator Winston Hibler and other academic sources, the lemmings (based primarily on those indigenous to Norway) in fact die from exhaustion from extended swimming rather than from the plunge into the water. In his narration, Hibler notes the suicide myth in its proper context. In an interview on the CBC program, Roy E. Disney mistakenly cited a "seven-year suicide cycle." The program then proceeded to debunk this statement of lemming misinformation. A simple viewing of the film demonstrates that Disney's statement did not reflect the actual content presented in White Wilderness.

On the program, CBC reporter Bob McKeown cited no specific evidence that the lemmings in White Wilderness were killed as a result of the filmmakers' staging of the sequence, but did make that suggestion via the film's own footage. That coupled with a statement by Roy E. Disney, who by his own admission had no direct knowledge of the lemming sequence, that "we may have lost a few lemmings," more or less became the indictment that McKeown was looking for. While the Disney Studios' technical and philosophical approaches to making True-Life Adventure films were certainly questionable, especially when you consider the "True-Life"moniker, the lemming controversy associated with White Wilderness seems potentially overblown. It is interesting to note that fifty years later, staging techniques continue to be used in the filming of nature documentaries.

Despite said controversies, White Wilderness contains much spectacular and remarkable footage. It remains a distinct spiritual and technical forerunner to current nature documentaries, most especially the much lauded Planet Earth series. In fact, the first episode of Planet Earth features scenes of a mother polar bear and her cubs that is remarkably similar to footage in White Wilderness.

Images © Walt Disney Company

Revisiting the Robinsons

Six months later, and without the benefit of its truly spectacular 3D presentation, I still unequivocally love Meet the Robinsons.

I was curious if I had actually been overly influenced by those impressive three-dimensional bells and whistles. After two viewings of the film in its just-released DVD format, I can honestly say that I wasn't. As I noted in my earlier review here at 2719, Meet the Robinsons is a wholly unconventional film, especially by Disney standards. It is easily off-putting to those quickly offended by its disjointed and sometimes non-linear storytelling and its on-the-surface exaggerated archetype characters. And while it is doubtful it will ever achieve a cult-like status akin to something like The Nightmare Before Christmas, I don't believe it will be as readily dismissed as its other recent Disney animated contemporaries Treasure Planet, Home on the Range or Chicken Little.

Meet the Robinsons was painted in broad, albeit digital strokes. Characters are extreme in their qualities and eccentricities, but not necessarily defined by their archetypes. If you are quick to dismiss what seems to be Lewis' simple search for family and acceptance, or Bowler Hat Guy's overplayed villainous buffoonery, then you do a disservice to the efforts of director Stephen Anderson and his fellow talents at Walt Disney Animation Studios. For it is the very different, yet intertwined journeys of Lewis and the diminutive Mike Yagoobian that ultimately transcend and compliment what would otherwise seem a wacky time travel adventure into family dysfunction.

Dwelling on past regrets or happily embracing the future. Celebrating failure as a catalyst to success or disavowing personal responsibility to validate a miserable and failed life. These are the challenges faced by Lewis and Goob. When we are first introduced to the two friends and roommates, the contrast in their personalities is distinct. Goob speaks a disjointed stream of consciousness that reflects his dreams of a future of baseball stardom, and demonstrates a lack of focus that will prove crippling and exploitable. At the same time, Lewis displays a quiet determination in constructing his latest invention, yet is crippled himself in his perceptions of failure and lack of forward thinking.

As we witness the reverse-evolution of Bowler Hat Guy back into his original incarnation as the young Mike Yagoobian, we become aware of a complexity of character rather than an over-the-top cliched archetype. Bowler Hat Guy's villainous swaggering exterior is methodically peeled away to reveal a still ingrained childhood mindset that is easily manipulated by an outside influence. When a defeated Goob teeters unknowingly on the precipice of his emotional destiny, it is his own future self that ultimately influences the path he takes:

"No! Everyone will tell you to let it go and move on, but don’t! Instead, let it fester and boil inside of you. Take these feelings and lock them away. Let them fuel your actions. Let hate be your ally and you will be capable of wonderfully horrid things. Heed my words, Goob. Don’t let it go."

Little Mikey grows into a bitter and disappointed individual, easily manipulated by the inhuman and evil machinations of Doris, the true villain of the piece. But in that symbolic exchange, it was he himself who determined the path taken. It is a bold statement about the human condition and its propensity for self-corruption, surprisingly found in a film genre recently better known for flatulence-based humor and teen-pleasing innuendos.

Lewis' obsession with the past is however not so much rooted in regrets as it is in the desire for family and acceptance. But he finds those dynamics, not in a past memory of a long lost mother, but unexpectedly in the wacky spontaneous collective of the extended Robinson clan. In another similarly symbolic encounter, Cornelius Robinson reinforces his forward-moving mantra upon young Lewis, thereby ensuring the very future that he, Cornelius, has in fact created.

This subtle laying of emotional groundwork allows for a culmination of story and events into an ending both overwhelming in its heartfelt nature and unexpected in its sincerity. The film is in many ways presented as a scrambled puzzle where surprisingly, nearly every piece deftly falls into place before the end credits roll. The smallest of details are accounted for despite the usual paradoxical problems inherent to time travel storytelling. The film's final moments, devoid of dialog but set to Rob Thomas' performance of the song "Little Wonders," deliver a succession of character performances rich in emotional nuance and possessing a genuineness unexpected in their very scope and delivery.

Upon subsequent viewings, I noticed a number of subtle elements that were simply brilliant in their execution. The film's opening moments where an infant Lewis is placed on the steps of the Sixth Street Orphanage, is colored in deep sepia tones, much liked an aged photograph and in direct contrast to film's later presentation of a bright and multicolored future.

The roots of the hilarious dinner table martial arts movie confrontation between Frannie and brother Gaston can be found in the film's early science fair scene where Frannie tells future son Wilbur "Don't sass me boy, I know karate."

The differences between Lewis and Goob are demonstrated in a subtle but telling manner via Lewis' equation-filled composition book that plays in stark contrast to Goob's happy unicorn-themed binder and its simple one-page checklist. Despite the nefarious tasks scribbled on that first page of loose leaf paper, the simple joyful nature of the possession betrays an underlying goodness potentially buried beneath the Bowler Hat Guy's villainy. The hollow nature of the adult Goob's plans and motivations is succinctly summarized early in the film when the head of Inventco pointedly questions "You mean you haven't thought this through?" The film revisits this thesis both hilariously and directly via the manipulations of Frankie the frog and T-Rex who both submissively proclaim "I'm just not so sure how well this plan was thought through . . . . . . Master."

I especially loved the parallel visits to the Anderson Observatory by Lewis in both the future and the present. Much in the way Cornelius reveals to Lewis his future potential, Bud and Lucille similarly uncover his eyes to the empty area upon which that unbridled potential will be realized.

And I will without reservation make note of the film's overall testament to the creative philosophies of Walt Disney. Much like the film's conclusion, the end quote is an unexpected emotional surprise that reaches beyond just the specific life journey of Lewis/Cornelius Robinson. While Walt Disney may have not specifically proclaimed the Keep Moving Forward mantra, his suppositions on "pushing the envelope" and "everyone needs a good failure" are clearly the basis of the Robinson family creeds. The quote, for many of us, is a direct correlation as to why we are, and have been, passionate Disney fans and enthusiasts. And it in many ways speaks to the recent transformation of the Walt Disney Company under the collective leadership of Bob Iger, Ed Catmull and John Lasseter. Iger's own recent recent references to "generating creative success" certainly reflect the Keep Moving Forward philosophy, and certainly run counter to the Bowler Hat Guy planning that often defined the company prior to Iger's appointment as CEO.

As I've often stated, opinions are subjective. Meet the Robinsons has its detractors, many of them among the self-proclaimed Disney faithful. They clearly did not have the patience nor tolerance for the unconventional approach to the material taken by director Anderson and his crew. But it was that very approach that set it apart so dramatically and refreshingly from the overabundance of animated product that currently fills the multiplexes and DVD store shelves. At least for me, it was a fun, emotionally-charged and highly satisfying ride into the future with a fitting and relevant tribute to the Walt Disney Company's creative past.

One Enchanted Evening

When it comes to Enchanted, I'm just a little bit late to the ball. Holiday travels and a busy work schedule kept me away from the multiplex until this past weekend, but Disney's very loving and incredibly entertaining tribute to its own fairy tale heritage was well worth the wait.

I have to admit that, despite the generally favorable buzz that surrounded Enchanted this past year, it remained relatively low on my radar screen. Though certainly lucrative, Disney's Princess brand of late has not reflected creatively sensibilities so much as marketing opportunities. Despite the film's many glowing reviews, as I entered the theater a small chip of cynicism remained ever present on my shoulder.

It was quickly knocked off.

Enchanted is a whimsical, happy, yet still smart and often rather sophisticated musical comedy. It is a homage to the Walt Disney Studio's long standing dynamic of fairy tale animation, and it makes no apologies for embracing that premise. The very clever transition at the beginning from the Studio's relatively new digitally-enhanced Castle-centric opening fanfare into the movie itself via a very nostalgic storybook introduction (complete with Julie Andrews narration), leaves no doubt that you have entered a Disney-inspired, and equally notable, Disney-celebrated, cinematic environment.

The film's animated segments were produced by James Baxter Animation, whose namesake's resume includes tours-of-duty at both Disney and Dreamworks. The animation remains very true to its forebears such as Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, but injects a healthy dose or two of cartoon-based exaggeration to reflect the story's broader and more comedic approach to the archetypes, settings and themes presented.

Giselle, the movie's fish-out-water heroine and her ever faithful and determined Prince Edward most definitely epitomize Disney-based fairy tale models. Thrust into the reality of present day Manhattan by the evil machinations of Edward's stepmother Narissa, Giselle upends the life of divorce lawyer Robert Phillip and his young daughter Morgan, while awaiting rescue by her fair prince and unknowingly dodging attempts on her life by Narissa's misguided henchman Nathanial.

What emerges is a battle of romantic notions as Giselle's purities of heart and intent collide directly with Robert's cynicism and also his uninspired relationship with his girlfriend Nancy.

Amy Adams is simply a revelation as Giselle, portraying the character's naivety and goofy innocence as much through nuance and body language as through dialog and song. While fellow cast members, especially Patrick Dempsey as Robert and James Marsden as Edward, are equally deserving of accolades, Enchanted is clearly Adams' showcase, and no doubt her name will likely be appearing on numerous ballots this upcoming awards season.

While some have expressed disappointment in the Alan Mencken/Stephen Schwartz musical numbers, I myself found them a refreshing departure from the more Broadway-based stylings of the 1990s Disney storybook productions. The gentler approach taken with the Enchanted numbers reflects the more understated musical qualities of Disney's earlier era fairy tales, most especially Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

In fact, Enchanted's princess pedigree is more firmly rooted in those golden era classics than their later 20th century counterparts such as Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. Giselle's undying optimism and romantic idealism feel more akin to Snow White and Cinderella than to Ariel, Belle or Jasmine. Similar to this year's earlier Meet the Robinsons, the film also has a very heartfelt and emotional resolution set to song. The sequence notably revisits the pop-up storybook design that opened the film, and then allows Disney Legend Julie Andrews to intone the concluding ". . . and they all lived happily ever after."

And much in the way that Meet the Robinsons created a distinct and very emotional connection to the creative philosophies of Walt Disney, Enchanted conveys similarly the very noble themes of love, hope and optimism that Walt attempted to infuse into all his efforts. By respecting those qualities rather than mocking them (as many recent animated films have done), director Kevin Lima has fashioned an experience that will likely become as evergreen as the original entertainment that inspired it.