Early Each Day to the Steps of St. Paul's . . .

 

Richard and Robert Sherman pretty much wrote the music of my childhood.

I grew up pretty indifferent to most music. I liked classical music because my Dad liked it. Pop music was pretty much unknown territory, except for a few things that penetrated my skull from the AM radio in the kitchen.

Then there was Disney. Lots of Disney music.

Most of that due to Richard and Robert Sherman.

Richard Sherman passed away today at the age of 95, following his brother Robert who died in 2012.

I guess maybe I thought both of them had already passed on. Anyway, thank you, Brothers Sherman, for making my childhood more musical than it might have been.

101 Demons, uh, Dalmatians

Apparently, there’s a stink going around social media that the new film “Cruella” glorifies the devil.

And while it’s true “Hollywood” might augment such traits for narrative reasons, you have to consider where the imagery comes from in the first place. And in this case, it’s not from devil-worshippers, but from Dodie Smith, who wrote “The Hundred and One Dalmatians,” the source material and inspiration for All Things Disney Dalmatian, way back in 1956.

I have a copy of the book on my shelf, published with Disney’s bright drawings on the cover. When I saw the social media stink about the film, I pulled the book off the shelf and thumbed through it, knowing I’d find what I was looking for pretty quickly.

First of all, the stink makes a stink about Cruella “de Ville” changing her name to “de Vil.” Because [thunderclaps] the DEVIL. Nevermind, of course, that the character’s first name is Cruella. Also nevermind, of course, that the first time we’re introduced to the character in the book, her name is de Vil. I've not seen the movie, so maybe they make a big deal of this. But the name change isn't in the source material; Cruella's name is clearly de Vil in the original story. (Don't let the "Dearly" name throw you -- Disney changed the last name to Darling for the movie.)

A bit later on, Smith, not subtly at all, makes the devil connection, right after having Cruella encourage her husband to make the fire “blaze for her,” and lamenting that “the flames never last long enough,” viz:

“What a strange name ‘deVil’ is’ said Mr. Dearly “If you put the two words together, they make ‘devil.’ Perhaps Cruella’s a lady-devil! Perhaps that’s why she likes things so hot!”

And then there’s the issue of “Hellman Hall” being changed to “Hell Hall” in the film. A little poetic license from the book there as the building was referred to as “Hill Hall” in the book, but Cruella’s house is referred to as “Hell Hall” by the local humans and the anthropomorphized animals, who tell the tale with more devilish imagery:

“The end came when the men from several villages arrived one night with lighted torches, prepared to break open the gates and burn the farmhouse down. But as they approached the gates a terrific thunderstorm began and put the torches out. Then the gates burst open – seeming of their own accord -- and out came de Vil [in this case, Cruella’s father], driving a coach and four. And the story is that lighting was coming not from the skies but from de Vil – blue forked lightning. All the men ran away screaming and never came back.”

That people are concerned about what they see as “devil worship” in the new film is their business, and if they want to be concerned about it and warn others, that’s also their business. All I’m doing is pointing out that the source novel in 1956, serialized as “The Great Dog Robbery” in Womans Day magazine, is where the devilish imagery comes from. Maybe it’s more innocent in the novel than in the film, but the film didn’t invent the imagery on its own.

Even the Disney film retains the reference to Hell Hall.

"Play It . . ."

With the passing of Robert Sherman, yet another door closes to Disney’s golden era. Not that the songwriters working for Disney today are slackers, but the Sherman Brothers – Robert with his brother Richard – were Disney music, as much as Carl Stalling was Warner Brothers/Bugs Bunny music.

These guys put a lot into their work – and “work” was whatever was at hand. Robert Sherman joined the US Army at age 17 and was among the first to enter the concentration camp at Dachau. He won a passel of decorations from the army and then went on with his brother to win two Academy awards for Best Original Song (Chim Chim Cher-ee)and Best Substantially Original Score.

And then there’s Feed the Birds, which was Walt Disney’s favorite. Often, years after Mary Poppins, all Disney had to do was ask the Sherman Brothers to “play it,” and they knew which song he spoke of.

These songs are as much a part of my childhood as going to school, playing around in the dirt, riding bicycles and whatever else I did as a kid.

Thanks, boys.

Art for Art's Sake

Do animators do this kind of thing any more?

And by “this kind of thing” I mean animation for the sake of animation, some little bit of the story to actually kind of leave the story behind and allow the artists to create art for art’s sake. Kind of like the nonsensical song-and-dance numbers that showed up in many an old movie before we all got tired of it and became sophisticated and wanted stories to tell stories, not simply be a story interrupted occasionally by song and dance.

I kind of like it. And I kind of miss it.

I keep thinking of what might be contemporary examples – the “Carl and Ellie” sequence from up, the “When Somebody Loves You” sequence from Toy Story 2. While they’re song and dance accompanied by beautiful animation, they’re not exactly the same as what I’ve got above. They’re expository. We get Carl and Ellie’s entire life story in one short sequence; we get Jessie’s backstory. The “Ride” sequence in Cars comes close, but it’s still more of a device to move the end story along rather than a bit put in because the animators and the song writers got together and decided to have a bit of fun.

Bach, Stokowski, Disney

I'm not really sure what "The Music Animation Machine" is, though for some reason it reminds me of the pitiful graphics capabilities of my old Tandy Color Computer 3, object of 1980s scorn and desire.

I do like it, however. I think, however, this version of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor is a titch on the slow side. Maybe Leopold Stokowski can assist me:

You know, as I watched this on the bus home from work today, I couldn't help but to think that, back then in the 1930s and 40s, Disney was as innovative with music and art and animation as we credit Pixar with being now. "Fantasia" was such an out-on-a-limb bit of music and animation I'm sure many people just didn't know what to think of it. It's certainly a weird bit of animation -- not what you'd really expect from Disney, but that's because Disney had to focus on the animation people expected to keep the studio afloat, which he struggled doing up until his death. "Fantasia" was a bit of art direction he wanted to do just to keep the sanity going. I'm glad he did it.