Disney’s “Fantasia” Encourages Your Imagination to Soar

Disney's Third Animated Feature - 1940
Back in June, when we ran Regina Robbins’s essay on Disney’s Dumbo, I included a short sidebar on 1940’s Fantasia. In retrospect, I believe I gave this film short shrift. It’s easy to dismiss this film, since Walt Disney himself all but offered a public apology for this box-office bomb. At the time, he commented, “We all make mistakes. Fantasia was one but it was an honest mistake.” I would never describe this as a mistake. It was created as a showcase for the talented, innovative Disney animators, allowing them to push their artistic and technical skills to the limit, mostly unfettered by the demands of story. And that’s a big risk, because without story, it’s a lot more difficult to engage an audience. After all, stories are the way we make sense of the world, and without characters to care about and stories to follow, Fantasia does drift, even flounder at times. On the plus side, this film is at times entrancing, at all times risky, and pushed film animation to new heights of excellence. I think Fantasia can—in the era of the dvd player—fulfill its original promise: to encourage an appreciation of classical music in children. The sequences that went “right” in Fantasia are superb; and the parts that went “wrong” are what your “fast forward” and “skip” buttons are for.

“Meem’s Little World” Just Got Bigger

Book Review and Author/Illustrator Interview
Texas-born Lori Rolie has created a children’s book of verses, Meem’s Little World, that’s unlike anything else on your child’s (or for that matter, your bookseller’s) shelves. Rolie has an uncanny ear for the voice of a child and a sensitivity to children’s joys, fears, and concerns. There’s a disarming sweetness to her poems, a gentleness and a lack of “wink, wink” edge that’s refreshing. This book serves its audience—young children—and doesn’t have a snarky, pop-culture-referencing second layer for the grown-ups. It’s for kids, through and through.

Rolie crafts poems around well-observed kid “issues” like why it’s not in a bumblebee’s best interest to sting you, all the while holding her rhyme scheme:
I shoo’d him away and off he goes
He’s a smart little bee “bee” cause he knows
He’ll lose his stinger if he stings me
And no longer be a honey bee!

And then there are the illustrations. These are not slick and air-brushed. They look as if they were drawn by a talented middle-schooler and that’s the charm. This book speaks directly to children in their own language. It’s folk art that depicts a kid’s idea of the world, accessible and recognizable. Rolie created and published Meem’s Little World on her own dime and on her own terms. One of the great things about the Internet is that a small, self-published book like Meem’s Little World can find its audience; or not. Like anything else hand-made, some appreciate the effort; some don’t. I highly recommend this book. My three-year-old won’t let it out of her sight and has declared it, “really cute.”

Lori lives in Texas with her husband, Gregg Rolie, co-founder and original lead singer and keyboardist of the rock bands, Santana and Journey and member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Their two children were Lori’s inspiration for Meem’s Little World. Lori recently answered a few questions for us:

Media Darlings: Your book is self-published. Did you go to publishers with this project?
Lori Rolie: I knew I had something different, something special. I took my time creating it and focused on my reader. I never let the “business” come between me and my creative work. With my husband being in the music business, I knew what I would be up against if I tried to submit it to publishers because it’s a highly competitive world out there. I may go to publishers in the future, but I wanted to test it myself on the local level. This was created for the child and the parent who need to escape from the fast pace of life at the end of the day.

MD: You’ve written that it was your “lifelong dream … to create stories for the very young reader.” What inspired this dream?

LR: When I was very young I had an imaginary friend because I was frequently alone. The smallest worlds that are easily overlooked became my playground. I found beauty and appreciation in the smallest things. I remember watching a line of ants and the way they communicated with each other in their world. I enjoyed my grandmother taking me out to her garden to show me what she had planted and grown. My dad taught me about bugs and how not to be afraid of them but understand them. I was nurtured by the smell of dirt and getting it all over my hands. The love and respect I had for animals was immense. Everything had personality. Modern times are busy and filled with agendas. Simplicity is sometimes lost. In a young child’s mind the world is going pretty fast. I wanted to write a book that would be on their level of understanding simple things. One that was soothing and allowed a good half-hour to calm down and let the world out there go by. The most special times with my children were quiet, one-on-one moments, usually at naptime or the end of the day. My children liked the way I told stories and inspired me to pursue that dream.

MD: For what age group is the book created? Have you received feedback from this group?
LR: It is written for ages 2-7. The feedback has been a unanimous “thumbs up.” Parents have told me how it has become their child’s favorite book and how they love finding the mouse in every story. I’ll never forget my first library reading: five-year olds gathered all around me, fascinated. The moms all bought books from me and the kids gave me big hugs, thanking me for coming. That feeling is the essence of why I created it.

MD: The subjects and ideas explored in your poems seem anchored in a child’s world. How did you discover these subjects, and how do you home in on a child’s perspective?
LR: I never lose sight of how important a child’s view of the world is. I respect it. It’s pure and natural. It can be easily thwarted if it isn’t nurtured. A child has an opinion of the world around him. His perspective shapes his personality. The subjects in my book are ones that I find children to be generally curious about.

MD: Which children’s authors and illustrators do you admire?
LR: I admire Shel Silverstein for being so brilliantly clever. I admire Eric Carle for his incredible imagination and color with illustration. Charles M. Shultz for his precious illustrations and stories.

MD: Have you noted any disturbing trends in children’s media?
LR: We are quickly becoming a computer-oriented society for the sake of convenience and the human element is somehow getting lost in the translation. There seems to be a trend that more is better. It’s bewildering. I would prefer to see less confusing graphics and more meaningful content in books for small children. There is a quality that’s disappearing. Who made the decision that a child has to grow up so fast?

MD: Have you received any formal training as an illustrator?
LR: When I began writing my book, I couldn't draw a stick figure. I tried to con everyone in my family to do it for me. I quickly became frustrated and even tearful. One day my husband said to me calmly, “Close your eyes and really see it. When you open them, draw it.” Out of necessity, I did. That inspired me to develop my own style. Now, I look forward to illustrating my next books.

MD: Who’s your favorite animated character?
LR: Disney’s Dumbo.

MD: What’s your next project? Will we see more of Meem?
LR: I've written two more books and have started on the illustrations for Meem’s Little World II and III, with more stories just like this one. I’ve also written three additional stories that will someday be individual books.

MD: How can people buy your book?
LR: Go to my website, lorirolie.com for links to purchase the hardcover book through Amazon or BitVibe as well as the e-book through PayPal. While you’re there, download the free Meem’s Little World coloring book!

The Flap Over Disney’s “Dumbo”

Disney's Fourth Animated Feature - 1941
When I was a little girl, my parents put up wallpaper in my room. It was decorated with characters from Disney films. As I think back on that wallpaper, the image of one character in particular jumps out at me: Dumbo. Actually, I should say it’s the image of two characters—the lovable baby elephant and his best buddy, Timothy the mouse. I have no memory of my first viewing of Dumbo, but I know that as an adult, I can only watch it every few years; it takes me a while to recover from the emotional strain.

I guess I’m not supposed to take the film so seriously, but let’s face it: Dumbo is insanely adorable. The central character of Disney’s fourth full-length cartoon is way cuter and more helpless than his predecessors in Snow White, Pinocchio, and Fantasia. Granted, those dwarves are charming, and like Dumbo, Pinocchio is an unhappy child (albeit a wooden one). But the talking puppet can, at least, talk. Poor Dumbo is not only mocked for his overlarge ears, he’s also mute, so he can’t even speak up for himself. His emotions are expressed entirely through his body language, his facial expressions, and the large tears that flow down his face in several scenes.

I myself am reduced to tears at least twice during Dumbo: once when the unlucky protagonist is cast in a humiliating role in a clown act, then again when he goes to visit his mother, who has been locked up for “attacking” (spanking) a naughty boy who is tormenting her baby. The “Baby Mine” sequence (so called because of the lullaby that plays as Mrs. Jumbo caresses and rocks Dumbo with her trunk through the bars of her cell) is probably the scene folks remember most fondly from the film. Another highlight is, of course, “Pink Elephants on Parade,” a four-minute explosion of weirdness depicting the hallucinations Timothy and Dumbo experience after accidentally drinking water spiked with champagne. This scene may be evidence of widespread pot smoking among Disney’s animators, as are several parts of The Three Caballeros.

Then there’s “When I See An Elephant Fly,” the song performed by a chorus of crows as Timothy attempts to teach Dumbo to use his large, wing-like ears to soar above the petty world that pulls him down. I remember being taken aback when a high school teacher I admired told me she would never allow her daughter to watch Dumbo because of the way in which this scene perpetuates racist stereotypes. This woman was, like my mother, a black woman born in the 1940s; indeed, she and my mom are the same age. Yet it had never occurred to my parents to shield me from Dumbo; I don’t think they ever even noticed the elements that caused my teacher (and others) such offense—or, if they did, they didn’t think that I would notice them … and they were right.

When my mother was growing up, she watched The Amos n’ Andy Show on TV and found it hilarious. Unlike the original radio program, the television version actually used African-American actors, but this didn’t keep the NAACP from protesting it constantly until its cancellation. My mom—just a little girl at the time—saw the characters as hapless everymen getting into funny situations (like, say, Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton), not as representations of an entire racial group. White people may have seen them that way, but that wasn’t her problem. One can say, well, she didn’t know any better … but who, exactly, was more ignorant in this scenario?

Dumbo’s crows are clearly modeled on a certain type of African-American character familiar to movie audiences: all but one are voiced by black actors, and that one, the leader, is called “Jim Crow” in the script (though, thankfully, not in the dialogue. By the way, he’s played by the same guy who voices Jiminy Cricket. Wrap your mind around that one). I can’t say what kids of the 1940s would have thought about them, but I’ll wager that kids of the 2010’s have no idea that these birds are supposed to be analogous to any particular ethnic group. It is obvious that they are unsophisticated, speaking in country accents with lowbrow grammar—but then, so is Timothy, except that his accent is Brooklyn, not Alabama. Where’s the chorus of complaints about the stereotyping of fast-talking city slickers? I’m not arguing that the Disney Company wasn’t racist in 1941 (let’s be honest: everyone was racist in 1941), but that it’s okay to enjoy things that are otherwise pleasurable even if they have some potentially offensive content. For heaven’s sake, people still produce The Merchant of Venice, don’t they? And hey, the crows may be raucous and unrefined, but compared to Dumbo’s snooty fellow elephants, who shun him, the birds are all right.

There are a lot of reasons Dumbo could have failed to achieve the classic status it currently enjoys. The studio was reeling from the financial disappointment of Fantasia, so Dumbo was made on the “short and simple” plan, clocking in just over one hour. Disney’s animators went out on strike in the middle of production, and World War II was looming over the as-yet uninvolved United States. But the silent baby pachyderm with the sail-like ears ultimately achieved what Pinocchio and Fantasia could not—turning a box-office profit. The passage of time has redeemed those other movies, while Dumbo’s mid-20th-century ethos now has to contend with early 21st-century values. It may not pass with (ahem) flying colors, but, all things considered, the young and young-at-heart should be tickled as pink as those parading elephants.

Regina Robbins is a theater and film artist. She has worked with several New York City stage companies, including Manhattan Theatre Source, the Looking Glass Theatre, UTC #61, and the Directors Company, and her films have been screened at venues in Los Angeles, Berkeley, Chicago, Asheville, and NYC. She also teaches kids how to write and perform, and is a four-time champion on the game show Jeopardy!