Once Upon A Disney #33: Pocahontas

Listen with your heart, you will understand... that this month's Disney classic is a bonafide gem. Let's paddle downstream and dive into the delight that is: 

Pocahontas (1995)

 

Maybe she's born with it... maybe it's flying leaves

Pocahontas — or 'Pokey' as I affectionately call it — was not a staple of my childhood, for some reason or other. Perhaps, like The Hunchback of Notre Dame which follows it, this film was a little too serious for a mini Sophie of short attention span (and even shorter temper). Or perhaps it's due to the lukewarm critical reviews it received. However, since discovering it in my teens, I reappraised this underrated classic and it has since become one of my favourites. 

From its opening moments, Pocahontas lays claim to its purpose — retelling (with a generous dramatic license) the clash of two very different historical cultures. Cleverly, this is done through subverting established Disney tropes to lift the lid on diverse new stories. Opening with an old-fashioned illustration of London, 'Virginia Company' is a traditional, British militarian call-to-arms. With an angular, flat coloured animation style reminiscent of previous story-book classic, Sleeping Beauty, the wooden ship sets sail and we're in familiar territory. 

Captain Hook really let himself go

The noble voyage from London to Virginia soon takes a tumultuous turn, though. Our strapping (and inexplicably American) hero John Smith proves his mettle by saving a flailing crewmate who falls overboard. We also establish that this crew of adventurers — headed up by the gold-digger Governor Ratcliffe — is a little ignorant, to say the least. They are intent on plundering and pillaging their 'New World' and killing any 'savages' that get in their way. Subtle screenplay all around.

This undermining of the white western hero lays the groundwork for the big subversion that underpins the story. As Ratcliffe's ship reaches its destination and the clouds part, the real magic happens — we see things from the other side of the sails. From stormy greys to soul-soothing pinks and blues, 'Steady As the Beating Drum' introduces us to the Powhatan tribe, whose way of life could not be more different than the British. The most iconic elements of Pocahontas are the natural, painterly aesthetic of the landscape, and the serene yet soaring score, and here they are perfectly showcased. As the tribe glides through streams and harvests corn, summoning the spirits of their ancestors, a breath of fresh air is injected into the Disney canon. 

Pink sky at night, Powhatan's delight

Indeed, Pocahontas is best appreciated for its atmosphere and moments of pure natural beauty, rather than the necessarily the plausibility of its story. For a tale loosely based on reality, it takes a lot of liberties. Pocahontas herself has been given a major upgrade from historical records, presented here like a supermodel crossed with an athlete, who can magically speak English because — y'know — true love. Similarly, John Smith's chiseled good looks, paired with Mel Gibson's Hollywood voice, is supposed to set him apart from British rabble but doesn't make for very believable viewing.

'I'd like to see it in gold' 

Whilst I agree with critics who find the historical retelling a tad problematic — i.e. it makes it look like both sides were at fault which is a little generous to old Blighty — I do think it balances silliness and serious themes well. 'Just Around the Riverbend' and 'Colours of the Wind' create lyrical, abstract moments of beauty, furthering the story while delivering poignant messages on the importance of nature, fresh perspectives, and spirituality. Pocahontas and John Smith's first meeting at the waterfall has an almost balletic quality, using silence to breathtaking effect. 

On the other side of the coin, there is plenty of slapstick and a healthy smattering of gags. 'Mine, Mine, Mine' is an unapologetic tongue-in-cheek commentary of British Imperialist greed, set to a rousing waltz. Grandmother Willow is of great value as the wise yet slightly inappropriate elderly relative. Governor Ratcliffe's assistant Wiggins has some classic one-liners ('I like gruel') while the rivalry between spoilt pug Percy and ravenous Raccoon Meeko makes for some funny moments for the kids. 

My method of sharing

As the story builds to a climax, however, the humour is cast aside. Ironically, this kicks off with the death of Pocahontas' rejected suitor Kocoum at the hands of one of Ratcliffe's soldiers — a match that she dubbed 'too serious' to entertain. Well, Pokey, things are about to get a lot more serious now (#JusticeForKocoum). Pocahontas and John Smiths' star-crossed love is put to the test with the two sides prepare for battle in sinister musical style with 'Savages.'  While some of the lyrics hit you like a sledgehammer ('They're different from us, therefore they must be evil') this song represents a peak in the unbridled theatricality of the film. As each character interjects melodiously over another, you can imagine the events playing out on a Broadway stage. 

These Disney World night-time shows have got intense

The speedy resolution to the fighting, followed by John Smith's wounded departure to London, feel a little anti-climactic after the heady conflict that builds throughout the film. If they had kept 'If I Never Knew You', the love song between Pocahontas and John Smith, in the movie, perhaps their parting would be more emotional. Instead of shedding a tear, I did find myself quietly pleased that Pocahontas decided to stay with her people rather than follow her man. However, Pocahontas stays in my memory as an ethereal, glittering, at times meditative retelling of a historical tale — rose-tinted, but in the best possible way.  

Villain Rating: 8/10. While Governor Ratcliffe hasn't quite made it into the Disney villain hall of fame, he does have a lot of the essential ingredients. Disdain for the common man? Check. Blatantly greedy, valuing gold over human life? Check. Sidekick? Check (both human, and dog). Very camp villain song? Check. Even more outrageously camp outfit and hairstyle? Double-check. Ratcliffe definitely hams up the villain role with the best of them. 

Best Song: Although 'Colours of the Wind' is a stone-cold classic, my personal favourite is the free-flowing and effortlessly energising 'Just Around the Riverbend.' It encapsulates everything about Pocahontas' personality and quest, the verses rippling with potential and the chorus soaring above the surface of the water, as she contemplates her future choices in the only way she knows how — rowing down an unpredictable stream. Yet, despite the excitement, the song still maintains a level of grace and calmness that underpins the whole of Menken's blissful score. 

This is why Meeko is my spirit animal

Disney Detail: I didn't spot any Disney Easter Eggs in this one, but the opening does pay homage to the storybook introductions of previous Disney Princess films. 

Why It's A Classic: It may have divided opinion, but Pocahontas delivers on the essential Disney formula. The rich, sparkling, Broadway-worthy score and musical numbers from Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz; the vibrant and painterly animation that transports you to a new world; an iconic and strong heroine with sweet sidekicks; and a surprising but satisfying ever after. 

Once Upon A Disney #32: The Lion King

The sun is shining (well, some of the time), and the days are getting warmer. The '90s is back in fashion with today's youths. Elton John is touring again soon. Where am I going with this, you may ask? Well, be prepared, as we're heading to the savannah for... 

The Lion King (1994) 

'Naaaaants ingonyamaaaa bagithi Baba!'

I told you we were on to a string of Disney belters, and we've got to one of the most iconic in the entire canon. Love it or hate it (and be publicly shamed forever), The Lion King is arguably the quintessential '90s Disney film. With the studio on a high after the roaring success of Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin, this next installment takes things up a notch in the food chain. Or at least to a fresh new continent. 

Bringing together musical powerhouses Elton John, Tim Rice, and Hans Zimmer, as well as an all-star Hollywood voice cast, The Lion King was a cultural moment of the decade. Animators at the studio were allegedly skeptical of the film's appeal at first, but after the response to the first teaser trailer — which was literally the opening sequence — they were convinced. Thankfully, it lived up to the hype. 

I'm not going to detail the plot, as you've probably seen this film at least 10 times if you're a fully grown adult. However, I will try to pick out some of the elements that I think make it so special, and why it holds a firm place in millennials' hearts. 

The first thing that sets The Lion King apart from many of the films that came before it is the astonishing world-building. Having the whole story take place at an unknown time, in a completely unspoiled natural world without a hint of humanity, gives it a vast, majestic scope and a timeless quality. The 'Circle of Life' sequence on its own is breathtaking, the panoramic shots over the savannah setting off the rousing African chorus. From then on, every scene captures the atmosphere of the very best David Attenborough documentary, the details of the ever-changing landscape completely transporting you to another continent. 

Hoping for a St. Albans property with a garden like this

Disney animators are no strangers to talking and singing animals, but here they manage to create a world in which the background wildlife is truly convincing, while the main characters emote and communicate as humans would. Simba and Nala performing a musical number atop two flamingos is just as natural as a stampede of wildebeests causing serious damage in the gorge (but let's not dwell on that painful memory). It's this effortless balance that gives The Lion King the best of both worlds — a beautiful wildlife epic, and a rip-roaring Broadway musical. 

Talking of musicals, it's no secret that the film's memorable soundtrack & score is a large part of its stratospheric success. Winning Oscars for both its score and soundtrack ('Can You Feel the Love Tonight' beat out 'Hakuna Matata' and 'Circle of Life,' which were both nominated), The Lion King has some of the most iconic music in Disney history. 

Couldn't miss the chance to embarrass the pubescent Simba

While Elton John and Tim Rice's songs are undeniably catchy and fit well with the narrative, I think the real magic lies in Hans Zimmer's score, and more specifically in his collaboration with Lebo M., who provides the African vocals and instrumentation. Their compositions and arrangements underscore the most emotional moments in the film — Simba surveying the Pride Lands for the first time, the devastation of Mufasa's death, the desolation of Scar's rule, and Simba's final triumphant return, just to name a few. While Elton & Tim provide the Broadway bangers, Hans and Lebo elevate The Lion King to a spiritual, transcendent level. 

He's bossed the Couch to 5k course

Finally, I will break a promise, and talk about the plot just a little bit. You have to give credit to the story (even if it may be derivative of... various sources). The Lion King is the perfect heroes tale, following the pure-of-heart protagonist as he goes from optimism to dealing with loss, through grief, self-discovery, and ultimate glory. What makes it work so well is the ensemble cast of characters that all teach Simba something new and different along the way. 

You have Mufasa showing his son how to rule with dignity (and that being brave doesn't mean looking for danger, of course), while Scar teaches his nephew the brutal lesson that you can't trust everyone. Then you have Timon and Pumbaa helping Simba shift some of the guilt that's plagued him since *shudders* the stampede, while Rafiki makes him understand that he can carry the legacy of his father without letting his loss consume him. I do wish he'd listen to Nala more, though. Classic privileged male lion. Anyway, the whole journey comes to an epic yet satisfying full circle (of life) when Simba finally takes his place on Pride Rock, as his father did before him, with all his companions by his side. One of the most triumphant entries in the canon. 

Left: Monday morning, Right: Me

Villain Rating: 10/10. Scar has it all — A diabolical plan, some spectacular one-liners dripping with sarcasm, a gloriously camp song, and absolutely no mercy whatsoever. We salute you, evil king. 

Best Song: For a film that's full of very famous, karaoke-favourite songs, The Lion King soundtrack really shines through Han Zimmer and Lebo M.'s instrumental score, which gives a magical atmosphere and African inflection throughout. To that end, 'Circle of Life' stands out for setting the tone and bookending the spiritual tale with its triumphant chorus and drums. However, as a standalone song, I have to choose 'Be Prepared' as my favourite, with the cleverest lyrics, catchiest tune, and sassiest beat. 

Disney Detail: I love this cheeky little reference. When Scar is depressed that his reign of terror isn't going to plan, he asks the imprisoned Zazu to cheer him up with a song. When he launches into 'It's A Small World,' Scar's response is perfect. It's a delightful way for Disney to poke fun at its own twee ride. (Although, for the record, I'm a Small World defender. Who's laughing when it's 30° outside and you get to 'travel the world' on water, undercover, for 15 minutes.) 

Why it's a Classic: This is THE Disney film of my generation. The story is absolutely air-tight, full of humour, romance, threat, and adventure,  with a character you root for from the word go. The animation and score are breathtaking, creating a real sense of epicness. The timelessness of the natural setting means that it appeals to all audiences. The Lion King really does capture something unique and magical, securing a place in Disney — and movie — history, that no amount of remakes can dethrone. 

Once Upon A Disney #31: Aladdin

Another month, another Disney favourite. Let's continue our journey through the golden '90s years on camelback, as we marvel at the cave of wonders that is... 

Aladdin (1992)

Preparing myself to wash the teapot for the hundredth time this weekend

It may be hard to believe it, but Aladdin is the same age as me. Alas, not the character, who is apparently just 18 years old, but the classic film itself. Unlike Beauty and Beast before it, Aladdin seamlessly — if loosely – combines the essence of the Arabian Nights with the irreverent flair of early '90s cartoons, to create something fresh, funny, and still distinctly Disney. 

The opening moments of Aladdin set the scene for an experience that will be magically larger than life, with cinematic sweeping desert dunes and dramatic skies. We also know from the outset that Disney is continuing their tradition of the Broadway-quality musical. Alan Menken & Howard Ashman's 'Arabian Nights,' while some of the lyrics may not fly so well today, creates a haunting and theatrical atmosphere that paints a picture of a soaring tale to come. 

Artistic angle or has the photographer started on the Arak? 

However, following the sinister opening number, we're immediately launched into a mockumentary-style sketch, Robin Williams' street peddler narrator riffing on the joys of Tupperware as he launches us into Aladdin's story. In the first 5 minutes, we get the formula of the film — magic, drama, and mystery, with a pinch of humour at every turn. 

Musically, Aladdin is up there with Disney's finest, without a weak tune. 'One Jump Ahead' perfectly showcases Aladdin and Abu's high-octane lifestyle, the frenetic pace and clever lyrics complementing the snappy dialogue maintained through the film. 'Friend Like Me' is a bonafide showstopper, overflowing with creativity as the animators almost have to keep up with the everchanging imagery of the words and music — not to mention Robin Williams' 110% performance. 

'Prince Ali' is a triumph, and one of the most sing-along-able songs in the Disney repertoire, reminding us of the colourful pantomime nature of Aladdin in the most exuberant way. And 'A Whole New World,' while overplayed by today's standards, is a soaring, joyous love ballad that really does feel like a whoosh of fresh air. Not to mention the reprises. Oh, how I love the reprises. 

June 21st (if you know, you know)

What really makes Aladdin shine as much as a diamond in the rough, though, is the combination of the joyous score, and meticulous attention to detail of the characterisation, from the script to the voice acting, and most importantly, the animation. 

Most people will credit Aladdin's success largely to Robin Williams' iconic performance as the Genie, and of course, he had a major role to play. However, you've got to hand it to lead animator Eric Goldberg and team to bring this veritable whirlwind to life. Every quick-fire one-liner that William spouts is accompanied by a smart visual gag, be it changing in size, switching outfits, or conjuring up just about anything from thin air in an instant. Yet somehow, he remains a cohesive, empathetic character and not just a jumble of memes. 

An easy win, but a definite one

Aladdin and Jasmine are perfectly pitched heartthrobs for the '90s. Aladdin's boyish charm and generosity — apparently based partly on Tom Cruise — is always being undercut by his naivety and misplaced over-confidence. This is what makes the Genie the perfect foil, bringing Aladdin down to earth with a cutting remark, even as he grants his wishes. Jasmine is just the right level of self-assured and cynical, while still having a romantic heart. The Sultan is your classic hapless Disney dad, sweet yet oblivious, giving way to one of the most obviously evil villains in Disney history. 

Me when I finally get on a plane some time in 2025

Jafar is simultaneously ridiculous and terrifying. While he struts around in his fabulous cape with his wise-cracking, cracker munching parrot Iago, he oozes camp pantomime villain vibes. His evil cackle and delivery of the 'Prince Ali (Reprise)' are feather-bower worthy. However, let's not forget that he really does attempt to capture and/or murder Aladdin a number of times. Imprisoning him, throwing him down a thousand-foot drop, drowning him, and casting him to the ends of the earth to get hypothermia, it really is a miracle that our boy stays alive longer than 20 minutes. And that's even without Jafar turning into a huge man-eating snake. He's not a villain to be underestimated. 

Saving this for most of my WhatsApp groups

However, to understand just how incredible the character animation is, look no further than the Magic Carpet. Unlike the enchanted objects in Beauty and the Beast, the carpet not only has zero dialogue but doesn't even have any hint of facial features. The filmmakers only have body language and musical score to create an emotional relationship with this piece of woven fabric, and yet they manage to make a character who's sweet, optimistic, and brave. I'd even go as far as to call the carpet one of my favourite characters. Although I do have a soft spot for Abu — I, too, would have had trouble parting with that bread roll. 

His little pom-pom hands <3

As we continue on to the next '90s Disney classic, I want to recognise Aladdin as a truly top-tier entry. Unrelentingly funny and joyful, with iconic characters, breathtaking animation, and a magical musical score that continues to go down in history. 

Villain Rating: 8/10. Jafar nearly has it all — the drawling English accent, the dramatic wardrobe, the talent for disguises, and the absolutely deadly lust for power. However, I do have to dock a couple of points for lack of a full villain song. He does get his evil chops around the 'Prince Ali (Reprise)' with relish, but we could do with more. 

Best Song: Oh, this is one of the toughest choices yet. This will probably change again, but right now I'm going to go with 'Prince Ali,' as it's one of the most crowd-pleasing, high-kicking, rousing chorus numbers you could come across. And I love the feathers.

Disney Detail: The inventive Genie sequences present the perfect opportunity for Disney Easter Eggs. There are nods to Dumbo and Sebastian, but I think my favorite is Genie comparing Aladdin lying to Pinocchio, his face suddenly transforming into the wooden boy with the protruding nose. 

Why it's a Classic: Aladdin perfectly blends zany '90s humour with a timeless, magical setting and story, and a fantastic soundtrack, making it both fresh and nostalgic. Robin Williams' performance as the Genie gives an added shine to a film that's already a diamond in the Disney crown.  

When someone talks about working on their summer bod

Once Upon A Disney #30: Beauty and the Beast

Ma chère Mademoiselle,

It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that I welcome you to Disney's winning streak. 

I invite you to relax, let me pull up a chair, as Sophie proudly presents... 

Beauty and the Beast (1991) 

A word of warning: this is one of my all-time favourites, so the next few paragraphs may dissolve into a general love fest for this bonafide classic. I've seen this film so many times that it almost negates writing about, but I'm a completionist, so I'll do my best to analyse something, at least. 

- Belle, when did you fall in love with Beast? 
- I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at the enchanted forest

From the very opening of this classic fairytale retelling, with Alan Menken's hauntingly romantic score, underpinning the multiplane camera zoom through an idyllic glade opening on to a gothic castle, we're brought back to Disney's golden age of animation. Like Snow White, Pinocchio, or Sleeping Beauty before it, Beauty and the Beast is swathed in nostalgia and magic and has a rich, cosy quality that only Disney's most iconic films can capture. 

There are many ingredients in perfect balance that make this film so satisfying, but the main factor has got to be the music. Taking the reigns from The Little Mermaid, Menken and Ashman reach a high point with Beauty and the Beast, penning a spectacular soundtrack fit for a Broadway show. 'Belle' is the quintessential opening chorus number, deftly introducing us to the rural storybook setting of Belle's village, as well as the beautiful heroine herself — and, of course, the aggressively handsome 'brute' Gaston. Every line is creatively crafted to tell us all we need to know about our protagonist ('with a dreamy far off look/ And her nose stuck in a book') while the interplay of villagers mimicks the everyday hustle and bustle that Belle wants to escape. 

'Just hanging out with my Saturday squad'
The Saturday squad: 

Even when each musical number ends, Menken's instrumental score does so much to tell the story, highlighting every moment with just the right flourish, and echoing themes we hear throughout the main musical numbers. The spritely pizzicato strings underscoring 'Belle' keep returning to signify moments of change and momentum for the character, like when her father Maurice leaves for the inventor's fair, or later when she starts to see a change in her feelings for the Beast. The warmth of her character is reflected by her musical theme, much in the way that Gaston is paired with a bravado-filled waltz, or the Beast with the haunting and mystical score of the prelude. 

When he suggests The Da Vinci Code for your book club

What makes the film especially clever, though, is how the nostalgic setting, familiar fairytale, and simple beauty of Belle lull you into a much more subversive story than Disney has told before. On the surface, Belle seems like a basic enough Disney princess, who ends up marrying a prince and living out her days in an enchanted castle. However, her journey shows much more autonomy and shrewdness than her predecessors. Unlike Ariel, who falls for the dream of the gallant, handsome human man she knows nothing about, Belle has Gaston at her doorstep, and flat-out rejects him. The self-proclaimed 'most handsome man in town' leaves her disgusted, because she can see the ugliness within, and is repelled by his strapping, man-about-town persona. 

Even when she eventually does fall in love with the Beast, it's not due to his strength or valour, but the opposite — he has to display vulnerability and kindness to win her heart. Having the handsome man as the villain, and the Beast as the hero (or more accurately, victim) is a refreshing change and makes this Disney classic stand out as more than a vacuous fairytale. 

Resting face vs when someone points a camera at you 

Having said all this, of course, there are some problematic elements. We can all cheer Belle on for rejecting Gaston (even while his eponymous musical number is one of the funniest, most rousing songs in Disney history), but is Beast a much better choice? Firstly, let's not forget that he cast out the old beggar woman for being ugly, which landed him with the curse in the first place. Secondly, he's learned nothing for years about the importance of inner beauty, as he's made no effort to lift the curse. He then goes on to imprison poor old Maurice for absolutely no reason at all and then agrees to let Belle take his place in his castle jail, without even letting her say goodbye to her father. All of this, and he's confused as to why Belle doesn't want to join him for dinner, still thinking it's his monstrous appearance? C'mon mate, read the room. 

'It's looking good, now who wants to match-make the wardrobe and the oven?'

Luckily for the Beast, he's surrounded by the real MVPs of the film: Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and the rest of the anthropomorphic furniture that makes up his household staff. The chemistry between the candlestick, clock, and teapot is far superior to that between the actual humans, each performance carrying so much charm and humour that you can't help but smile as they steadfastly try to accelerate the blossoming romance between Belle and the Beast, while they bicker among themselves. 'Be Our Guest' is the glittering Vegas show we all deserve, while the legendary Angela Lansbury's 'Beauty and the Beast' is just heart-meltingly pure. It's down to these heroes that there's ever 'Something There' between Belle and the Beast at all. 

All the timeless elements of this film collide in the finale: the slapstick-filled chaos of the battle of furniture and humans, the final tense showdown between the tortured Beast and the unrelenting Gaston, that goosebump-inducing transformation scene, and finally a good old dance of jubilation, set to a choir belting out the titular song. With every sparkling beat, we're reminded why we love Disney films — there's just a magic that doesn't need explaining. 

My feelings whenever I'm presented with food

Villain Rating: 9/10 — If there wasn't such stiff competition, I'd give Gaston a perfect score. The tall, dark, strong, and handsome brute is gloriously hammy, has a killer song, and is the freshest twist on a villain so far. A gleeful satire of the handsome prince, who's more in love with himself than anyone else, sets the scene for a more discerning leading lady in Belle, whose rejection of his 'beauty' is oh-so-satisfying. He isn't quite Ursula level, but he's pretty close. 

Best Song: Well this is a toughie. My favourite Beauty and the Beast song changes weekly, with every genius musical number from Menken and Ashman combining instantly catchy tunes with deliciously clever lyrics, but for now... I'm feeling 'Belle.' Maybe it's because every day really is like the one before right now. 

I can hear this image

Disney Detail: Surprisingly, there aren't any Easter Eggs in this one. However, if the final scene looks familiar to you, it's where the animators recycled the dance floor scene at the end of Sleeping Beauty and repainted the characters — Apparently, they were going over budget (those pesky computerised columns!) 

Why it's a Classic: This film strikes the perfect Disney formula, putting it consistently in my top 5 films from the studio. A thoughtful, kind, beautiful heroine, a truly repulsive villain, dry humour and slapstick, a romantic setting and story, and — best of all — a score and soundtrack worthy of the finest Broadway musical. It just captures pure, timeless magic. 

Once Upon A Disney #29: The Rescuers Down Under

Crikey mate, we've only gone and made it to the '90s! After The Little Mermaid set the tone for a streak of many Menken musicals to come, we've got some familiar faces to revisit first. Yes, it's time to catch up with our favourite rodent secret agents, in one of the very few sequels in the Disney animated canon. Tie your kangaroo down sport, we're hopping over to Australia with... 

The Rescuers Down Under (1990)  

There are only a few things I remembered about this film from watching it as a kid, even though it did get some repeat viewing. One was the ENORMOUS eagle that's big enough for an 8-year-old boy to ride on. Another is smooth as Skippy kangaroo rat Jake (the only character to actually have an Australian accent). But probably the most striking is the very opening shot. 

I can hear this image

Planted straight into the Aussie outback, we're presented with the eerily still scene of insects scuttling over leaves, with just the sound of nature clicking away. Then, suddenly, a frenzied drumbeat kicks in and we start hurtling forward across a field, skimming the undergrowth. As the camera cinematically zooms in, Disney sets the pace for a different kind of Rescuers adventure — complete with early-stage CGI animation. This isn't your sweet '70s ballad — it's the '90s and we're ready for a white-knuckle ride. 

From the opening scenes to the finale, The Rescuers Down Under doesn't really let up. There's danger around every corner, and many more hair-raising moments than the first film. For example, the very next scene after the opening credits sees young Cody, an adventurer/nutjob with an inexplicable American accent, climb up a vertical cliff edge — we're talking Ethan Hunt style — in order to rescue a gigantic golden eagle from a poacher's trap. Then, if you didn't already have vertigo, he falls hundreds of feet into a ravine, before being swooped up by said eagle at the last minute. And he's smiling! This is one unrelatable protagonist, I've got to say. 

I would be hysterically crying

Due to his instant and downright strange connection to the eagle Marahute, Cody puts himself in the firing line of sadistic but hapless poacher, Percival McLeach. Like Madame Medusa before him, he's motivated by wealth, hunting down animals to sell their hydes. And like Medusa, he has a reptilian pet/assistant, this time a Spencer's Goanna lizard called — you guessed it — Joanna. Even more threatening than Medusa's crocs, Joanna rasps and scuttles around in a way that makes your skin crawl, and is always on the hunt for eggs to eat — which is somehow just really creepy in and of itself.

McLeach himself is certainly one of the most brutal villains in Disney history, in terms of physical threat. He has no problem capturing a kid, throwing knives at him(!) and trying to feed him to some hungry crocodiles(!!!) all in pursuit of a bit of extra cash. Luckily McLeach's tendency to orate all of his plans out loud, as well as putting all of his plans in the hands of a lizard, means that he's fairly easily outsmarted by an 8-year-old boy and some well-dressed rodents. 

So that explains the big egg shortage of March 2020

Speaking of, there are some comfortingly familiar elements in this dark and treacherous tale. Thirteen years after their first outing, the adorable Bernard and Bianca are back — and they haven't aged a day. Bernard's mission this time requires a different kind of heroism — trying to get Bianca to stop being badass for 10 minutes so that he can propose. The moments between this power couple deliver on the charm of the original film, as Bernard fumbles with the engagement ring in a miniature New York restaurant (situated inside a chandelier), and is repeatedly robbed of the perfect moment to pop the question, as the two embark on a new adventure to save Cody. 

Never thought I'd be living vicariously through some talking mice

Bernard's biggest challenge this time (apart from the immeasurable task of overthrowing a villain over 100x his size), is to keep Bianca's affection in the presence of an impressive new eligible bachelor, Jake the kangaroo-rat. Jake's easy, extremely Australian charisma marks him as the antithesis to Bernard — in theory. He goes with the flow and isn't afraid of a risky choice. However, we know Bianca only has eyes for her janitor-turned-rescue partner, and the girl's got taste. Bernard's commitment to doing what's right makes him an invaluable member of the team, leading him to take the biggest risks of them all.  

Wide-brimmed hat? Check. Boomerang? Check. I'm an Australian man.

Bernard and Bianca provide the reliable heart of this film. As for the humour? That's on slightly shakier ground. In order to get down under, B&B (as I've decided to call them for short) take to the skies yet again on a whimsical albatross. This time, however, the OG albatross Orville isn't available, so we conveniently meet his brother — Wilbur. (We do love an aviation joke.) Wilbur's zany presence helps to lighten the film, which has more sharp edges than its predecessor. 

Me attempting crow pose in yoga

However, he does seem over-used. Probably because he's voiced by the legendary John Candy, the writers felt they had to pad out his role. Rather than just getting B&B from A to B, the film keeps returning to a bizarre segment where he tries to escape medical experiments by a German-sounding mouse with some unorthodox tools. It doesn't fit with the rest of the storyline at all, and seems kind of xenophobic, but I suppose it gives us a break from people falling in ravines. 

All in all, The Rescuers Down Under is an entertaining ride, but it strikes me as a little less cosy than the first film. Perhaps if this has been released a decade or two earlier, I would have more glowing words to say about it, but in the company of The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, et al, it's more of a diversion than a bonafide gem. However, some breathtaking scenes and a rich musical score make it a memorable addition to the canon. 

Seriously, this bird's head and neck are the same size as a human being

Villain Rating: 7/10 — McLeach is certainly deadly, and will resort to all sorts of ruthlessness to build up his collection of animal hydes. His lizardy sidekick Joanna is suitably sinister. However, he's not the brightest bulb in the box. And, no villain song, for which he has to be docked a point. 

Best Song: No songs in this one! The score is pretty uplifting though, especially when Cody takes flight on Marahute the eagle. 

Disney Detail: Like with the last film, there aren't any obvious Easter Eggs in this one (just eagle eggs. [smirk emoji]). I suppose being a sequel itself, thus including a lot familiar characters and settings from The Rescuers, is enough to satiate Disney nerds like myself. 

Why it's a Classic: I'm not gonna lie, it isn't as classic as I remember it being. The characters and story pale somewhat in comparison to the original film, especially as the charming underground critter world has already been introduced to us so isn't a novelty anymore. However, the cinematography of the animated Australian landscape does make for some breathtaking, memorable moments. 

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.