Once Upon A Disney #28: The Little Mermaid

I wanna be where the good films are... 

Oh hey, we got there! It's time for a few weeks of consistently high-quality Disney flicks, with the award-winning '90s Renaissance period. Get ready for Beasts and Hunchbacks a-plenty, Greek Gods and Genies galore. But first, we're diving into a family favourite... 

The Little Mermaid (1989) 

There are a number of reasons that Disney's animated films of this period feel like a return to form. One is the source material. Far from the city-slick modern retelling of Oliver Twist with sunglasses-wearing dogs, Disney returns to nostalgic, period-set, proper fairytales. The Little Mermaid is the first in a string of films that seem to have spiritually picked up straight where Sleeping Beauty left off, with princesses, romance, magic, perilous battles, and show-stopping musical numbers. 

The scenes when we finally come out of lockdown

This film might just be one of the best examples of this musical fairytale formula working at its best. From the opening scene, where the dashing Prince Eric's ship is setting sail for adventure, we're plunged into an age past, where men sing sea shanties and mermaids live in glistening palaces under the sea. (I'm assuming this is historically accurate). As well as setting a dreamlike, story-book feel, the opening song 'Fathoms Below,' which blends seamlessly into the film's overture, gives you the impression that you are about to settle in for a proper, Broadway-style musical. And, of course, it doesn't disappoint. 

Perfect shot of Flounder there

Legendary composer Alan Menken (along with genius lyricist Howard Ashman) has written some of the greatest Disney songs of all-time, spanning The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin — and Menken continues to give magical life to Disney films to this day. As compelling as The Little Mermaid is in its story and characters, it's Menken and Ashman who put the wind in its sails — which in turn breathed new life into Disney's releases going forward. 'Part of Your World' is deceptively simple, but heartbreakingly tender. 'Under the Sea' is infectiously joyous. 'Kiss the Girl' is smooth and velvety. And 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' — well, it's a cabaret headliner. 

Speaking of which (or 'witch') The Little Mermaid delivers one of Disney's best ever villains. Ursula takes everything important to an old school Disney villain — the menace of Maleficent, the manipulation of Lady Tremaine, the madness of Cruella — and adds her own swaggering, campy charm. She's essentially a Drag Queen, chewing the scenery at every turn, and unapologetically getting her nasty sh-t done. Poor unfortunate Ariel is really no match for this evil auntie. 

When deciding what to get from the Chinese takeaway

Another striking element of Ursula's rhetoric, and a theme that comes to the surface surprisingly often in the film, is a transparent discussion of sexual politics. While parents in recent times complain — perhaps rightly — that the moral of this tale (that a woman literally gives up her voice to get a man) is grossly unfeminist, we have to remember that there is an element of subversion at play. During Ursula's bargaining with Ariel to take her voice in exchange for turning her human, she famously tells her to use 'body language' to attract the object of her desires, Prince Eric. 

'The men up there don't like a lot of blabber / They think a girl who gossips is a bore!'

This, coming from the villain, is of course a jab at the outdated notion that men want women to be seen and not heard — and Ariel only cautiously believes it as she has zero experience of human interaction. Unsurprisingly, we soon learn that Ariel's lack of verbal communication with Eric is the main reason she doesn't secure his 'true love's kiss' sooner. He wants a woman with her own unique voice. 

'Look out, the flume is just ahead!'

Having said this, though, the character design does have a noticeable sexual overtone compared to previous Disney films. While Ursula shimmies and struts around, flaunting, let's say, her ample bosom, Ariel herself cuts rather a provocative figure for a 16-year-old. Of course, as a mermaid, there's nothing inherently inappropriate with her wearing a couple of seashells and not much else — but her body-language as she emerges from the sea, and the cheeky camera angles around her naked form before she gets clothed to see Eric, all seem to point to something just a little suggestive below the surface. 

Who filmed this, Michael Bay? 

We see this again in Jasmine and Aladdin's flirting, and perhaps even more obviously with Meg's teasing of Hercules. The main explanation I can think of is that it mirrored depictions of teenage sexuality in the rest of Hollywood at the time. Think coming-of-age movies like Dirty Dancing and Sixteen Candles. Much like the recent wave of feminism has played down heterosexual stereotypes in recent years, the '80s and '90s were all about strong, yet sexually alluring female characters. 

Anyway, got myself a bit carried away with a deep analysis of an animated singing mermaid there. One of the joys of The Little Mermaid, which carries through all the best Disney films, is that there's plenty for adults, teens, and kids to enjoy. Alongside teenage romance, you've also got the hilarious slapstick sequence 'Les Poissons,' where a crazed French chef tries to stuff poor old Sebastian the crab, and the charming misunderstanding when Ariel thinks a fork is a comb (because a seagull told her so). Sebastian, Scuttle, and Flounder make a funny and heartwarming trio of Ariel's cheerleaders. And even the hapless King Triton makes our hearts melt by the closing credits. All-in-all, this one swims its way straight into the Classic Disney vault. 

Me in hayfever season

Villain Rating: 10/10. Ursula is absolutely one of the best Disney Villains of all time. If she wasn't so obviously evil, shriveling people into little shrimps and such, I'd honour her as my queen.  

Best Song: It's a strong soundtrack, but I think 'Under The Sea' just clinches it. It's easy to forget how great it is when it's one of the most overplayed, but the toe-tapping calypso beat and uplifting tune make it an absolute bop. Not to mention those lyrics — 'What do they got, a lot of sand? We got a hot crustacean band!' 

Disney Detail: I didn't spot any obvious easter eggs in this one, but that could be because it's intentionally setting a new age, while being unmistakably 'Disney'. 

Why it's a Classic: This is a return to Disney purity. A fairytale through and through, The Little Mermaid has the nostalgic, sparkling feel of early Disney classics like Cinderella, Pinocchio, and Sleeping Beauty, brought up-to-date with wry humour, and a modern soundtrack deserving of the best Broadway musical. And it's the start of a pretty special streak in the Disney animated canon. 

Once Upon A Disney #27: Oliver & Company

We made it to the last film before the big Disney Renaissance! There's a string of bonafide classics coming up, but for now, we're swapping one big city for another with the radical retelling of a Dickens classic... 

Oliver & Company (1988)

'So when do we get to watch The Little Mermaid?'

As far as I can remember, this is the second time I've ever seen this film, and on this viewing, I may understand why it didn't make it into my childhood rotation. A loose rehash of Oliver Twist, this movie feels — more strikingly than most — a real product of its time. This is a celebration of the '80s, in the music, fashion, humour, choice of voice artists, and just about every element. As a '90s kid, it seems I was born too late to truly appreciate its atmosphere at the time, or look on it nostalgically as an adult. But it's not without its joyful charms. 

The contemporary New York setting is the beating heart of the film and is in large part what roots it to the decade. Unlike The Great Mouse Detective or The Black Cauldron, which reach back into tried-and-tested Disney tropes of fairytales and turn of the century cosiness, Oliver & Company is a big brash, city caper. With a backdrop of traffic and a cast of street-wise canines, this one moves to the rhythm of a new age.

Wow, the Beatles really ripped off this scene...  

Unlike the more famous musical version of this story, Disney's rendition swaps out a traditional, Broadway-style score for a style that was everything at the time — the pop music video. From the opening scene-setting number, 'Once Upon A Time In New York City' — performed by '80s icon Huey Lewis — the pop sensibility announces itself. The sound-mixing means that you can still hear the cityscape underneath the musical numbers, but the vocals and the band are clearly laid over the top 'from the studio' afterwards — a classic '80s move. 

While Oliver, the wide-eyed kitty, is the official protagonist, the city-slicking pooch Dodger is the poster boy for this strutting, modern-day musical. Voiced by Billy Joel, Dodger is the ring-leader of Fagin's ragtag group of mongrels, treating the city like his playground. From a modern point-of-view, he's a bit of a walking cliché of 'hip dude,' with his 'savoir faire' demeanor, neckerchief, and even wearing shades at one point. You can see where The Simpsons' Poochie got his inspo from, is all I'm saying.

How are you doing, fellow groovy dudes? 

 Completing Fagin's gang of streetwise doggos is Tito, the Latino, womanizing Chihuahua, Einstein, the ironically dim Great Dane, Francis, a randomly posh British Bull Dog, and Rita, the token bitch kindly yet sassy Saluki. Supporting Fagin (their human owner) in picking the pockets of unwitting New Yorkers, they form Oliver's unlikely family, with some tender moments between the gang. 

As with Dickens' tale, though, Oliver finds himself in more prosperous company as the story progresses — in this case, into the home of Jenny, a sweet little girl whose parents are very conveniently out of town for the duration of the film. Jenny, who is, let's say, not dissimilar to The Rescuers' Penny (in colouring, demeanor, age, and of course, that nearly-name) immediately takes a shine to the lost kitty and the pair form a very sweet bond, enjoying playing in the park and practising piano together.  

The only way to greet people nowadays *sanitizes hands*

This is much to the dismay of the scene-stealing Georgette, the spoilt, showgirl-inspired poodle voiced by Bette Midler, who craves undivided attention. Her song, 'Perfect Isn't Easy,' harks back to Hollywood musicals of the 1950s, where 'dames' were covered in perfume and rolling their eyes over their mobster husbands. With a twinkle of Vegas drag queen thrown in. It's all a little out-of-place, but she's so fabulous, she gets away with it. 

That post-weekly hairbrush feeling

These competing new families set up the emotional crux of the film, where Oliver has to choose whose path to follow. Luckily, a string of kidnappings helps clear up the situation. After Fagin attempts to get some cash out of stealing Oliver from Jenny, the ever-menacing Bill Sykes is much more successful in double-crossing Fagin to hold Jenny for a ransom (did I hear plot twist?) while her butler Winston is distracted by watching a wrestling match. It's down to the animals to band together and save the little girl from near-death. Nothing like a terrifying hostage situation to test where a cat's true loyalties lie, eh? 

All in all, Oliver & Company is a little too rooted to the period which has aged it more than other 'pets save the day' films like The Aristocats and Lady and the Tramp, but it does have some genuinely funny moments, a tender heart, a rollicking pace, and really expressive character design that gives it a lot of flair. Someone does need to fire that butler though. 

'I know it's Monday, please bring wine'

Villain Rating: 8/10 — Disney's version of Bill Sykes doesn't pull back the punches. He's a physically imposing, fear-inducing mobster, casting a very real shadow over Fagin, Oliver, and Jenny. Kidnapping a small child for a ransom and threatening to feed your enemies to vicious dogs is pretty dark stuff. However, I do have to dock a couple of points for lack of campiness, which for me is the mark of a well-rounded Disney villain. 

Entering the Zoom chat at the end of a long week

Best Song: 'Why Should I Worry' by Dodger and the gang, mainly because it's the only song I can still recall after watching the film. It also seems to epitomise the tone of the whole story, blaring saxophones and all. 

Disney Detail: Other than Oliver presenting more than a passing resemblance to Simba, and his Aristocats-style piano playing, we can definitely glimpse Roger and Pongo navigating the busy streets of Manhattan, while Fagin's Mickey Mouse watch gives a playful nod to the '80s era of commercialism. Add Tito's rendition of 'Heigh Ho' when he gets frisky, and it's a who's who of Disney references. 

Why it's a Classic: This one does seem a little incongruous in the catalogue, with a less nostalgic storytelling style to previous and future films. To its credit though, it's a well-paced adventure with some Disney touchstones that keep it in line with our expectations. An adorable lead, believable friendships, humour, and real peril. Oh, and of course, talking cats and dogs. 

Once Upon A Disney #26: The Great Mouse Detective

As we roll on through the '80s, on the way to the Disney Renaissance, it's time to return to some good old talking rodents — A trope we know Disney does well. Get your best sleuthing hat on, because we're hitting the streets of London with... 

The Great Mouse Detective (1986)

When someone suggests another round but you want to get home for 'Strictly'

Released just a year after the slightly off-brand Black Cauldron, The Great Mouse Detective feels like a firm move back to familiar territory for the studio. The film is adapted from the children's novel series Basil of Baker Street, which follows a mouse version of Sherlock Holmes as he solves mysteries of the rodent world — the perfect fodder for a cosy Disney animation. It's essentially The Rescuers set in Victorian London. 

The opening shot, panning from a London street to a tiny doorway underneath a toy shop, introduces us to the miniature, and fittingly festive world we'll be exploring in the next 90 minutes. In this world, the mice have the same professions as the humans they live below, which means that Flaversham, an extremely Scottish old fella, is a mouse toymaker. 

Remember hugs? *offers elbow tap*

His workshop oozes nostalgic Disney magic (think Pinocchio at a smaller scale). His adorable daughter Olivia is his biggest fan. However, as soon as we settle down with a cup of hot cocoa, things take a traumatic turn. Poor old Flaversham is whisked away in the night by a mysterious dark figure, leaving poor little Olivia trembling in the storage cupboard. Enter Basil the Great Mouse Detective. 

The Great Mouse Detective is a significant step up in quality from The Black Cauldron, both in the richness of the animation, and — more noticeably — the voice performances. Like in The Rescuers, the characters are fully formed and the relationships sparkle with tenderness and humour. Basil himself — who literally lives below Sherlock Holmes — emanates his eccentric brilliance, his revelations and mood swings constantly astounding his right-hand man, Wats-ahem-I mean Dawson. Basil, Dawson, and Olivia make a charming team. Olivia's fearlessness and determination to find her father makes her an asset to the team, and Dawson's genuine care and concern for her is heartwarming. 

'And THAT'S why Pierce Brosnan is an underrated Bond'

However, while the film has a tender heart, it doesn't shy away from the sinister.  While our Big Bad, Professor Ratigan, has a penchant for the fabulous — crooning away with his own villainous song — he does pose a very real threat. His absurdly large, overshadowing stature clearly marks him out as a menacing force, and — somewhat unusually for a kids film — we see him put his deadly words into action early on, feeding one of his henchmen to a particularly sinister cat (made all the more terrifying by its relative size compared to the miniature world we've got used to). 

Savage

Ratigan's booby traps are genuinely well-matched to Basil's skills, making our villain smarter than most. Lured into trying to rescue Olivia, the criminal mastermind sets up an elaborate 'mouse trap' that very nearly defeats Basil and Dawson, making for tense viewing. The setpiece where Basil and Ratigan are playing cat-and-mouse — or should I say rat-and-mouse — within the inner workings of Big Ben's clock is one of the most perilous Disney finales I can think of. I'd equate the genuine threat level and darkness of this film to One Hundred and One Dalmatians, where the power-hungry villain really is intent on death at any cost. A film perhaps a little too scary for younger viewers, but surprisingly satisfying for most. 

Candid shot

Villain Rating: 9/10 — Professor Ratigan has that campy, menacing style that marks all the best Disney villains. As well as posing a real threat to our heroes, even seen sentencing his own to an untimely death, he also knows how to dress — And enjoys a good musical number. An all-rounder, really. 

Best Song: While this is marketed as a 'musical adventure,' there are only three songs, and none of them particularly memorable (even if the 'sexy cabaret' number is for all the wrong reasons). However, 'The World's Greatest Criminal Mind,' sung by Professor Ratigan and his henchman, does have a villainous, decadent joy akin to 'Gaston' or 'Mine, Mine, Mine' from later Disney classics — complete with harp breakdown. 

Um... no

Disney Detail: During the toy shop heist (a setting reminiscent of Gepetto's workshop) Basil, Dawson and Olivia come across an adorable wooden Dumbo toy. 

Why it's a Classic: Like many of the mid-80s Disney films, this one isn't top of most lists. However, its nostalgic setting, confident voice acting, strong hero and villain, and a plot that runs like clockwork makes it a satisfying watch, and one that Walt would probably have approved of. 

Once Upon A Disney #25: The Black Cauldron

Last month was one of those rare occurrences where the Disney film matched the tone of the season. Just as the Hallows were weening, and we'd decked our humble abode with pumpkins, goblets, and spooky lanterns, it was time to settle down to a dark fantasy of... very '80s proportions. Hubble bubble, toil and trouble, it's time to take a look into... 

The Black Cauldron (1985)

When you take 'one-pot cooking' a little too far

Having never watched this film before — it seems Disney doesn't often acknowledge its existence — The Black Cauldron has been on my watch list for some time. Many endorse it as an underrated classic, which usually means it's actually pretty rubbish but it's edgy to like it. I'll withhold judgement to keep the suspense. 

Some scene-setting: The Black Cauldron is based on the first two books in Lloyd Alexander's The Chronicles of Prydain series, which is, in turn, based on Welsh mythology. Set in the mythical land of Prydain during the Early Middle Ages, the film centres on the evil Horned King who hopes to secure an ancient magical object known as The Black Cauldron that will aid him in his desire to conquer the world. He is opposed by a young pig keeper named Taran, the young princess Eilonwy, the bard Fflewddur Fflam, and a wild creature named Gurgi who seek to destroy the Cauldron, to prevent the Horned King from ruling the world.

'HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I ASKED YOU TO TAKE THE BIN OUT!'

Ok, so I may have copied and pasted that primer from The Black Cauldron's Fandom page. But there is a lot of exposition. And Welsh names. Plus, I'll write it off as a cheeky plug for my place of work. Anyway, you get the idea that this is a pretty typical fantasy story, complete with a Halloween-worthy villain, hero, princess, some cute creatures, etc. They also throw in some witches and pixies for good measure. 

The Black Cauldron basically delivers on its dark fantasy promise. The first Disney film to get a PG rather than U rating, it allows for a pretty nightmarish villain who embraces his dark side. The Horned King spends much of the film skulking in the shadows, his demonic face occasionally looming into view for terrorizing effect. However, his similarity to Skeletor of He-Man fame did dilute his mysticism just a little bit. 

When Boris gives us another month of lockdown

Taking on this horned horror is our hapless hero, Taran — and he really is pretty clueless. Reminiscent of Arthur in Disney's The Sword in the Stone — complete with truly terrible voice acting — Taran wants nothing more than to star in his own adventure and be a true warrior. The only problem is that he's pretty useless at everything. Firstly, he's given one job. Deliver the adorable, magical pig Hen Wen — who conveniently is able to locate the cauldron though a piggy trance —  to safety. Which means keeping her hidden and not letting the Horned King gets his mitts on her. So of course, he IMMEDIATELY loses her, within about 200m of the cottage, letting her get scooped up by a couple of crows and taken directly to the Horned King's castle. 

Me when presented with a sports bat of any kind

The film follows a strong pattern of Taran getting carried away by his own bravado and desperation to be a warrior, getting into trouble, and then having others save his arrogant behind — including the pretty cheaply drawn princess Eilonwy. The two have a kind Peter Pan and Wendy relationship, where he's openly sexist and she writes it off as 'boys will be boys.' And then you have the third wheel in the adventure party — Fflewddur Fflam, a 60-something-year-old bard who seems to be directly from a Monty Python film. The fact that the most complex, developed character is a dog/monkey hybrid who speaks like Donald Duck is saying something. 

They thought those were just regular mushrooms... 

All-in-all, The Black Cauldron was not as bad as I feared. It has a well-paced plot, a good villain, and a satisfying redemption arc or two. However, you can't shake the feeling that it's lacking the quality that the studio has been able to deliver in the past, and will do again. The animation style and script feel very generically '80s, like something you'd watch on a Saturday morning with your Cocoa pops. I'm looking forward to enjoying some more rich, sumptuous Disney magic soon. 

Major Abu vibes

Villain Rating: 7/10 — While he is ultimately pretty useless, the Horned King does cut a pretty menacing figure which was sure to terrify kids at the time

Best Song: No songs in this one! Probably for the best, as judging by some of the weak moments in the storyline, they would have probably shoe-horned something sub-par in, a la Sword in the Stone 

Disney Detail: Apparently Tinkerbell has a cameo in the fairfolk scene, but I'll have to rewatch it to spot her

Why it's a Classic: It's definitely an underdog and seems to have gone down in history as more of a cult classic than a traditional classic. I think it's been defended so staunchly over the years because it is actually half-decent. Some of the other 'classics' are actually harder to watch than this rough diamond, which is a fairly well-paced fantasy adventure with a genuinely scary villain and a satisfying resolution. 

Once Upon A Disney #24: The Fox and the Hound

It's not the '70s anymore. Wave the cute mice and moderate peril behind. Things are taking a dark turn this week with the gut-wrenching... 

The Fox and the Hound (1981) 

I approached this film with a fair degree of trepidation — having only watched it once as a child, it was promptly banished from my family's rotational Disney viewing for being deemed too upsetting. Sitting down to watch it again, some 20 years later, I was sure it couldn't have been quite as distressing as I remembered. I was wrong. 

Back when swimming pools were a thing... sigh

From the opening titles, you can tell that this isn't going to be the fuzzy family favourite that most Disney animations promise. In place of a romantic orchestra or a cheesy choir, is a score more akin to a thriller.  Spooky strings are the only form of music, underlying the sound of a stark breeze, and the occasional forest creature. In fact, it's like we've been plunged straight into the most harrowing part of Bambi — complete with the protagonist's parent, this time a fox, being shot in the first 5 minutes. Welcome to the danger zone, kids. 

While large portions of the proceeding story try to lighten the mood — with the introduction of a kindly old lady who takes care of our orphaned fox Tod, and an unlikely friendship forming between Tod and the neighbouring hunting dog, Copper — the film never quite shakes off the sense of doom set up at the beginning. 

We could all do with a Big Mama hug right now — especially after watching this traumatic film

A motherly (if racially stereotyped) owl, called Big Mama — yes, really — narrates the story in a reassuring fashion, bolstering the more light-hearted moments. Baby Tod and Copper are genuinely adorable, playing together in the innocence of youth. Big Mama doesn't seem to think it wise to bring up the fact that one of them will be conditioned to kill the other at some point. Boys will be boys, after all. There's also a forced comical sub-plot with a couple of other birds trying to hunt down and eat a worm, that evades them all year round. But they're not distracting us from the inevitable heartbreak and trauma. 

It's difficult to tell exactly what message this film is trying to portray. If it's anti-hunting, then picking on this one highly unusual tale doesn't quite do the job. If it's anti-men, then it's a bit more effective. Copper's owner, Amos, is a hunting man through-and-through, and absolutely brutal when it comes to adding foxes to his collection. For some reason, even though his truck is chock-full of pelts, he's determined to shoot his neighbour's pet fox — his neighbour being a ridiculously sweet old widow. 

Guaranteed he'd refuse to wear a mask

For Widow Tweed, Tod is the only thing that brings her joy. She gives all her love to this abandoned fox, who becomes like a child to her. And now this DICK, Amos, makes her drive all the way to a game reserve to say goodbye to her beloved pet, for fear of him being unnecessarily killed out of pettiness. It's horribly upsetting. But at least Tod is safe now right? WRONG. Amos only goes and trespasses on to the reserve with newly-killer-trained Copper in tow, still intent on finishing off the poor guy. This is getting psychotic. 

No-one has business creating these kinds of scenes 😭

Here's where I was really left fuming though. After a traumatic chase, involving Tod and his lady fox being trapped in a fiery tree, a fight with a colossal and terrifying bear, and falling down a huge waterfall, Copper and Tod finally put their rivalries aside and save each other.  Very sweet. And Amos finally yields and lets Tod live. The bloody least he can do. 

But — get this — while Widow Tweed has every right to never speak to the bastard again, and move far, far away, she actually warms to Amos. She nurses his injuries with simply an eye roll. Guys, I'm done. 

My anger levels when Amos called Widow Tweed a soft 'female' 

Anyway, that was The Fox and the Hound, a waste of tears. It's going back in the vault for me. 

Villain Rating: I realised I lost this section part-way through this challenge, but I think Amos the demon allows me to bring it back. You guessed it — 10/10 for sheer malice and persistence to kill, just for the glory

Best Song: All the songs are pretty weak, but I'll pick 'Goodbye May Seem Forever,' because the whole sequence is genuinely heart-breaking 

Disney Detail: Copper's mentor dog, Chief, has that distinctive Disney drawl given to many of its hounds, especially the duo in The Aristocats. Also, the Bambi parallels are suitably unsettling. 

Why it's a Classic: The character animation is up-to-scratch, and I suppose we can call it 'the traumatic '80s one.' Unless one of the next movies blows it out of the water. 

Once Upon A Disney #23: The Rescuers

Good news: We're only five films away from the Disney Renaissance.

Bad news: There might be a few duffers in between. 

Great news: This week is an absolute gem (or diamond, to be precise) of a film. Get ready to take flight, because it's time to bask in the glory of... 

The Rescuers (1977)

This film has always been a favourite of my household, so it holds a fond place in my heart. From the opening credits, where little orphan Penny sends out her message in a bottle to the tune of 'The Journey' (more recognised as 'Who Will Rescue Me?') the painterly landscapes promise a sumptuous adventure with sweetness at its core. It makes you want to grab a blanket and cup of tea, and snuggle down for the evening. Which is basically what I did. 

Dropping your 50th bottle of beer into the recycling

The film really takes off when we're introduced to the mouse version of the United Nations in New York, the 'Rescue Aid Society.' We're invited into a whole miniature world existing within our own, full of charming details — like mice gathering in a large suitcase to hold a summit meeting, the janitor reaching into a glass bottle by using a comb as a ladder. 

During said meeting, we meet the glamorous Miss Bianca, Hungary's representative. Voiced by Eva Gabor, whose voice you may recognise as Duchess in The Aristocats,  she's not short on male attention. But when it comes to taking on the assignment to rescue Penny, she chooses the hapless but loveable Bernard — the janitor. It turns out they're a match made in rodent heaven. Yes, we stan Bernard and Bianca. 

Discovering the nearest pub is 20 miles away 

As if two mice falling in love wasn't sweet enough, there's our orphan-in-distress, Penny. Lamenting the fact that no-one wants to adopt her (even though she's impossibly cute) her only friend is the orphanage cat, Rufus. Basically a grandpa in cat form, he proceeds to tell her how special she is with a super schmaltzy poem, emitting old-school 'When You Wish Upon A Star' vibes. It's a cheap trick, but I was welling up. 

'I've binged every Netflix show and it's only September'

Finally, you have Madame Medusa, who is terrifying and fabulous in equal measure. Based more than loosely on Cruella De Vil — right down to her maniacal driving style — Medusa is all skin, bones, jewels, and mascara. With her huge crocodile henchmen, she has eyes all over the Devil's Bayou and will take no prisoners to get her prize — the Devil's Eye diamond. 

I can feel this 😷

While the relationship between the Medusa and the defiant yet scared Penny just about holds the tension of the plot together, what really shines is the blossoming romance that underlies Bernard and Bianca's rescue mission. One of the highlights of the film is when they use the Albatross Air Service to fly from New York. Bernard's intense fear of flying at take-off gives way to a romantic sky-bound journey, much like the 'A Whole New World' sequence in Aladdin — But set to a much more Burt Bacharach-style song. Bianca's open affection for Bernard from the beginning, calling him darling and leaning on his shoulder, is refreshingly heart-warming. 

When you look back on your Tidal Wave photo from Thorpe Park 

Like in One Hundred and One Dalmatians, the local animals — in this case, some hillbilly swamp critters and an adorable dragonfly named Evinrude — pitch in to help Bernard and Bianca reach Penny. The difference between this and previous Disney films is that the animals and children can talk to each other, which means that Penny can hatch a plan to escape with the help of her new mousey friends. 

Following some musical-fuelled peril involving crocodile claws, HORRIBLE bats, menacing whirlpools, and fireworks, The Rescuers delivers that happily ever after we all crave from a Disney film, and sets up a new story which will follow 13 years later. The Rescuers has it all: Romance, adventure, a terrifying villain, and some super '70s pop songs. 

Every outfit is *chef's kiss*

Best Song: 'Someone's Waiting For You' is a really sweet song, placed at the perfect moment in the film to tug at your heart-strings. Just as orphan Penny starts to lose hope when held captive at the Devil's Bayou, this lullaby-like pop song implores her to keep her hopes alive. Luckily, Bernard and Bianca are on the way. 

Disney Detail: During the musical number 'Someone's Waiting For You,' the animators use stock footage of Bambi and his mother grazing in the forest. As if it wasn't tear-jerking enough already! 

Why it's a Classic: It's just so charming. Like The Aristocats and One Hundred and One Dalmatians before it, the focus on animals secretly working together behind the scenes is a delightful concept. The Rescuers perfects the characterisation (Bernard and Bianca are couple goals), world details, and pacing, to provide a near-perfect mouse-fuelled adventure. 

Once Upon A Disney #22: The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

Two months later... 

Oops. Seems that life – or the little there is of it at the moment – managed to temporarily get in the way of this challenge. I suppose the novelty of being able to go to the pub and do masked shopping was too tough to resist. Never fear though, because I'll get through these films by hook or by crook, even if it takes another FIVE pandemics. (Disclaimer: I hope there aren't five more pandemics.) 

Not long until we get to a new decade, but for now, let's see how much I can remember of... 

The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)

Queuing up for that half-price restaurant food

That's right, folks – we're back to anthology territory. Only just fully recovered from the PTSD of The Three Caballeros, Fun and Fancy Free, et al, I did not have high hopes for this one. Although I, like most people, am familiar with Disney's versions of A.A. Milne's classic stuffed characters, I'd never seen this film before. Perhaps I'd written it off for being too childish or quaint. However, it was really quite pleasant. In a gentle, have-a-cup-of-tea-and-a-biscuit kind of way. 

Like many of its predecessors, Winnie The Pooh begins in live-action, with the book being selected from a shelf (in a very creepy looking nursery) and opened, for the story to begin. The narrator's voice pops in and out between each tale, making the whole film feel a bit like someone reading you a bedtime story. The book conceit works better in this film than in previous Disney classics, as cute illustrations of the characters wander around the pages between scenes and interact with the narrator, which was a nice touch. 

When you're walking down The Strand and you get grit in your face

The stories themselves are based on A.A. Milne's tales, and are actually re-used from previous Disney shorts already made in the '60s. They mainly revolve around Pooh eating way too much honey, some bad weather, and all of the animals being very annoying neighbours to each other. For example, when Pooh runs out of honey, he invites himself over to Rabbit's house, eats all of his, and proceeds to get so fat that he's stuck in his friend's house for days. Not a good guest. 

Me emerging from quarantine after a baking addiction

If you thought that was bad though, get this. In the 'Blustery Day' story, Owl's house is blown down in the wind. Eeyore decides to find him a new one and eventually does. But he doesn't realise it's Piglet's house. Awkward. Unbelievably, once the other animals tell him that it's Piglet's home, Owl still thinks he has a right to live there anyway, and Piglet has to give it up! I was FUMING. My anger almost made me forget that Christopher Robin's voice turns from American to English halfway through. Sigh. 

Woodland house-market aside, Winnie the Pooh has plenty of songs, cheeky humour, and charming animation to tick along for an hour and a half. There's even a trippy nightmare sequence a la Dumbo, complete with menacing multi-coloured Heffalumps. It might not be life-changing, but you can see how these characters have found a way into children's hearts (apart from Tigger, who's just plain annoying). 

I'm scared

Best Song: Most of the songs in this film are pretty short / unmemorable, but 'Little Black Rain Cloud' did stick with me for its lilting fairground feel. You can tell it was written by the Sherman Brothers, as it has a 'Let's Go Fly A Kite' vibe.

Disney Detail: Nothing deliberate, but the gopher character did put me in mind of the legendary beaver in Lady and the Tramp. Also, that LSD nightmare that Pooh has is signature Disney. 

Why it's a Classic: It already deals with classic children's characters, so it's hard for it to be otherwise. However, you have got to hand it to Disney for building on the books and creating versions of these characters that have stuck with generations. When people think of Winnie the Pooh, the chances are they will imagine a very yellow bear with a husky American accent.