My Favorite Films: Fantasia

Fantasia (1940)

Producer: Walt Disney

Context:
In 1936, Walt Disney wanted to revive interest in Mickey Mouse (what a weird concept) with an epic short cartoon based on The Sorcerer's Apprentice story and composition set to live orchestral music.  As the budget for this short became unmanageable for such a small cartoon, production expanded into a feature length piece combining classical music with short animations.  This experiment allowed Disney's team to try new types of animated storytelling without relying on the typical cartoons and fairy tales that the company had become famous for.

While the 2 hour plus film would struggle to find a mainstream audience, it was met with critical acclaim and would be released under various edits over the next 50 years, making it an iconic Disney staple.  By 1990, it was released on home video where it became one of the first Disney films I owned and experienced.  And I remember, even as a child, finding it a slog to sit through the whole thing.  However, I liked so much of the second act's cartoony pieces that I was willing to sit through the more high-brow dramatic fare of the first act.  As a result, I became very familiar with the entire film at the age of 2.

It wasn't until I was much older that I truly appreciated the influence this film had on my creative process.  I loved the ideas of finding stories within music and presenting them side by side.  (For many of my high school talent shows, I would perform silent Fantasia-esque skits set to music.)  It was fun revisiting it after all these years and remembering every single frame.

Plot:
Eight animated sequences are set to traditional pieces of classical music, with the conceit that the audience is attending an orchestra in concert.

Analysis:
Disney was one of those creators that always aimed to try something new, and the fact that this was his third film shows that even early on, he wanted to see what animation was capable of.  Overall, the film has a laid back atmosphere, to ease the audience into what was then a new experience.  Deems Taylor is the Master of Ceremonies and he bluntly explains the purpose of each piece before we watch it which kind of takes some of the mystique away.

As a child, I remember not listening to what the boring host was saying, and as a result, I let each sequence stand on its own merits.  And it still worked and made sense.  Sure, some of the trivia behind what the creators were intending is interesting to hear, but nothing here really needs that explanation.  It would have been better, as a theater goer, to receive a program that described the moments and to just let each piece stand on its own.  Of course, some breaks are needed as we mentally prepare for each cartoon.

Toccata and Fugue in D Minor - Johann Sebastian Bach

The first piece may just be the most experimental of the bunch, and as such, does require a bit of explanation.  As Taylor explains, we don't experience a story in this section, but rather the images, colors, and emotions that may pass through our mind as we let our thoughts drift as we listen to this piece.  The shapes start off looking like the instruments being played, but then gradually transition into abstract figures that move to the music.  As a toddler, I remember finding this sequence to be most confusing, yet, I knew it was necessary to get to the next part.  And I'm sure audiences seeing Fantasia for the first time were wondering where Mickey Mouse was.  That being said, I find that it sets the tone of the film quite well and it is a perfect place to start.  This essentially is Fantasia.

The Nutcracker Suite - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

This was my first taste of the music of The Nutcracker and each tune that has been selected for this moment remains among my favorites.  Rather than depicting the Christmas tale, the sequence depicts various plants, fish, and fairies performing their own dance to each tune.  Overall, we watch as the seasons change from spring to winter, with each creature adding their own unique moment to the overall piece.  I personally like the Chinese mushrooms and the Russian flowers, since they are the most lively of the bunch, but that ending with the seasonal fairies is beautiful and marvelous to watch and listen to and it was a moment that made me think, "Wow, this was animated in 1940 and it looks incredible!"

The Sorcerer's Apprentice - Paul Dukas

Of course, this is the centerpiece of the film and while many moments of this film are iconic, none are as famous as apprentice Mickey wearing that blue wizard hat controlling the stars.  I'm not the hugest Mickey Mouse fan, but I love this short, mostly because the music and the story are so in sync with each other.  Sometimes I listen to the music just for fun and imagine the cartoon in my head.  They seem made for each other.  Not only is the cartoon funny, it's magnificent and terrifying.  Those autonomous brooms are so creepy.  While I'm glad the whole film was built around this short, it could easily have stood on its own and been just as classic.  This was the only cartoon that they brought back in the sequel Fantasia 2000 (which I may discuss another day), and it's obvious why.

The Rite of Spring - Igor Stravinsky

Technically, this sequence is grand and awesome.  Watching the evolution of single-celled organisms into mighty dinosaurs was cool to see on screen, especially in 1940.  However, I still recall this as being one of the duller sections from my childhood.  Mickey Mouse was a hard act to follow, even with literal dinosaurs.  Don't get me wrong, I find the animation in this segment to be brilliant and (forgiving any scientific inaccuracies) very realistic.  But the slower pace does help the film feel its length.  And watching the dinosaurs slowly die out wasn't very...fun as a child.  Apparently, this sequence was supposed to end with the dawn of man, but it was cut to avoid controversy.  Man, that would have been so cool!

Meet the Soundtrack

After a 15 min intermission (cut out in the home release), we transition back into the program as the band members improvise some music and we "meet" a soundwave that shows off how each instrument's sound appears visually.  It's...cute, and I enjoyed the playful silliness as a kid, but nowadays, I can see why when they edited this film for length in rereleases, this section was always the first on the chopping block.

The Pastoral Symphony - Ludwig van Beethoven

Going back to a more Disney-like Silly Symphonies cartoon experience, we observe serveral creatures from Greco-Roman mythology experiencing a day on Mt. Olympus.  Unlike The Sorcerer's Apprentice, there isn't really an intended story.  The music's springtime suggestions lends itself to this idyllic colorful world of fauns, unicorns, pegasuses, cherubs, centaurs, and playful gods and goddesses.  Even as a child, I really enjoyed a lot of the visuals presented, especially with the wine at the Bacchanalia (which I assumed was grape juice), the thunderstorm and lightning, and the aftermath with the rainbow, sunset, and night, each brought about by their associated deities who blend into the celestial objects.  Although its another "cartoony" part, it looks wonderful.

The Dance of the Hours - Amilcare Ponchielli

This was the segment that I'd always try to make it to when I watched this movie as a child.  You know how kids enjoy watching the same film over and over again?  Well, try doing that with Fantasia?  When I was feeling weak, I'd usually stop the tape after The Sorcerer's Apprentice.  But if I powered through, I knew I'd get to see the hilarious ballet with the ostriches, hippos, elephants, and alligators.  This one is just pure silliness, taking the idea of the most awkwardly structured animals and having them move like graceful ballerinas takes a certain level of genius.  I'd say that next to Sorcerer Mickey and his brooms, the lead ballerina Hyacinth Hippo is probably the most remembered images from this movie.  Well, next to...

Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria - Modest Mussorgsky/Franz Shubert

For the grand finale, Disney pushed this film to the limits by presenting a demonic, horrific celebration of the Devil himself (technically Chernabog).  This massive dark god of evil creates a playground for evil spirits and watches as their grotesque figures wreak havoc on the town at midnight.  No humor, no fun, just straight up horror set to an appropriate soundtrack.  As a child, this sequence scared me, of course, but I'd always wanted to see it if I could handle it.  This moment is then followed by a procession of distant monks walking into the woods to Ave Maria.  In sharp contrast, we have a quiet scene that holds steady on the torch light of these travelers.  Very little happens visually (which is probably why I found this to be a hugely disappointing ending as a child), but thematically, it creates a beautiful moment with which to end the film.

Final Thoughts:
Honestly, this is more of an experience than a movie.  While there have been a few successors in the Disney library, nothing beats the original in scope and magnitude.  There's something in there for everyone to enjoy and it adds a little prestige to your average cartoon-viewing pleasure.