Once Upon A Disney #13: Alice in Wonderland

Hi diddly ho Disney aficionados!

Well, quarantine has hit and we're all looking for silver-linings – mine is the arrival of Disney+ in the UK, and the likely possibility of consuming many more magical movies in the coming weeks. We're already starting to go a little stir-crazy around the world, so what better film to fall down the Disney rabbit hole with than...

Alice in Wonderland (1951) 

Bye bye sanity 

For some reason which I'll never quite grasp, this was one of my all-time favorites as a child. As in, I was 'wear-out-theVHS-with-multiple-viewings' obsessed. I suppose the bright colours and meandering plot work together to entertain a five-year-old who doesn't quite understand the frightening existential questions Lewis Carroll's disturbing tale provokes. 

Disney's spin on Carroll's classic is surprisingly weird through today's lens – but I suppose when we compare it to previous flicks like Fun and Fancy Free (ft. those ventriloquist dummies) and the abstract sequences in Fantasia,  Alice's adventures are just as sane as can be expected in the 1950s. 

'Umm, ya boring.' 

I won't delve into plot details as we're all familiar with the basics, but I will say one thing – Disney leaves no stone(r) unturned. In fact, the film feels so full of Carrollian content (it's a word now) that it barely holds itself together. The 75 minute runtime is broken up into at least 13 topsy turvy parts, full of riddles, songs, fantastical creatures, and general anxiety-inducing action. 

Curioser still, there is not one likeable character in the film. Alice herself, while the victim for the most part, is a self-proclaimed brat, doling out pompous advice that she seldom takes (she even sings a whole self-pitying song about that). The white rabbit is infuriatingly skittish, the Mad Hatter and March Hare are downright rude, the Cheshire Cat just loves the drama, the Caterpillar has not got time for anyone – and let's not even delve into what the walrus did to those poor oysters. 

When someone tries to drag me up to the dance floor for 'Cotton Eyed Joe.'

However, the constant twists and turns, double-crossings, and the sinister atmosphere is a large part of how Alice in Wonderland keeps timeless appeal. Watching this for the first time as an adult, I found that I had a morbid fascination with what terrible thing might happen next, right down to the Queen of Hearts threatening to chop off our protagonist's head. 

Amid frustration at the illogical, nonsense narrative, we also have time to admire the stunning modernist art style that makes Disney's Wonderland so magnetic. Mary Blair's designs and direction lean into the psychedelic appeal of Lewis Carroll's novel, and the sense of scale is conveyed flawlessly to envelop us in this over-exposed and confusing world. Unlike Tim Burton's later version which leans too heavily on complicated CGI to distract from the story, this earlier, stylised approach is the perfect fit. It's both unmistakably Disney, and unquestionably Alice. 

Trolololol

I don't know if I'll watch Alice in Wonderland again in a hurry but can say that I admire the boldness of this adaptation – and it will haunt my dreams for a while.  

Villain rating(s): Basically every character is a villain in this movie, but let's do this by the book and call on the Queen of Hearts, who's a solid 8/10. Yes, she's pretty two dimensional, but her hobbies of animal abuse and chopping heads are pretty intense.

When I spot someone hoarding toilet roll

Best Song: 'All in the Golden Afternoon,' sung by the snooty flowers, for being a rare peaceful moment in an otherwise tumultuous adventure

Disney Detail: Mary Blair's iconic designs and art direction for the film has served as a clear inspiration for the Disney parks, especially Disneyland Paris, where the bold, colourful props are perfect for creating a fantasy world.

Why it's a Classic: Already based on a classic novel, this adaptation manages to feel intrinsically 'Disney,' whilst leaning into Lewis Carrolls' strange, uncomfortable fever-dream of a story.

Once Upon A Disney #12: Cinderella

Your eyes aren't deceiving you – here's a Disney film you've actually heard of! Rejoice!

We've hit 1950, which you'll be pleased to hear is much less painful than the previous decade. We've got some legit classics ahead of us, kicking off with a quintessential Disney princess' perfect fairytale...

Casting off the stench of 'Fun and Fancy Free'

Cinderella (1950) 

A choir croons the title song 'Cinderella' whilst an old-fashioned fairytale book opens to reveal a glittering castle. We all collectively breathe a sigh of relief. This is more like it. Indeed, the opening to Disney's second princess film might be the most stereotypically 'Disney' there is.

Following the narrator's preamble, which explains the dead dad, the stepmother gone bad, the kingdom's single prince, and Cinderella's servant-state, we get down to business. Cinders awakens from her dream-filled slumber, summoning all her animal friends, including cute bluebirds and talking mice, who are perfectly trained in housework. Cue the first proper song.

'I just had that dream that all my teeth fell out. Thank f**k I'm awake.'

'A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes' has arguably become more popular after Lily James' rendition in the live-action remake, but it's stood the test of time as one of the better Disney princess songs. Unlike Snow White or Aurora, Ilene Woods' vocals aren't childish or operatic, but smooth and sweet, mirroring jazz singers of the time. They also fit the character herself – while she's forced to submit to her stepmother and stepsisters, Cinderella is quietly rebellious, slyly ridiculing them to her animal friends and never forgetting that she should have it so much better.

The first half of the film relies heavily on Cinderella's relationship with the creatures of the house. Most scenes centre around the mice (Jaq, and new recruit Gus), as they bond with Cinders – they can talk in a squeaky kind of way – and try to avoid the menacing claws of Lady Tremaine's cat, Lucifer.

'FEED ME YOUR SOUL, PETTY HUMAN.'

Lucifer is basically the devil. The literal cat-and-mouse scenes, where the furry fiend is trying to catch his prey, Tom and Jerry style, are ridiculously tense. I was actually holding my breath and yelping at the screen for the mice to get away from his lethal grip. His part in the film's climax is extraordinarily vile, and I'm glad to see the back of him.

Less openly violent but even more sinister than Lucifer is his owner, the formidable Lady Tremaine. Just like her feline counterpart, the vindictive stepmother is introduced to us by a pair of eyes glowing in the dark. Indeed, she is synonymous with darkness, literally throwing shade on to Cinderella wherever she goes. The true power of her menace lies in restraint – while she goads the stepsisters into getting their claws into Cinderella and leaving her in tatters, she simply smirks from the sidelines. Unlike other Disney villains, she has no magical powers, but plays in mind-games. The idea that she could be real makes her even more scary.

Opening your email inbox after a holiday 

In a film that plays very cleverly with darkness and light, the bouncing Fairy Godmother arrives in all her bright, sparkly glory, as a desperately needed beacon of hope. 'Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo' has become a stone-cold classic, and not just for its earworm quality. It's a tonic to the desperate sadness in that moment, and sets the story on a trail to happiness.

As well as being a well-crafted story with real pathos in its characters, Disney's 12th animated classic oozes style from beginning to end. From the smooth, '50s lilt of its songs and Cinderella's voice, to the colour palette. The palace itself is a designer's dream, the reflective blue and purple glittering surfaces calling back to Cinder's famous scrubbing scene where she harmonises in her own soap bubbles, and reaching forward to the elegant glass slipper which unlocks her freedom and happily ever after.

Me vs. any decent property in St. Albans

Cinderella marks a true return to form, with a perfectly paced story, memorable songs, proper villains, cute sidekicks, and a character you can truly get behind. Bring on the rest of the 1950s.

Villain rating(s): 10/10 for Lucifer, who does nothing to make me into a cat person (pure evil). 9/10 for Lady Tremaine, who really needs a good slap around the face to get rid of that smirk.

Best Song: 'A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes' (and the mouse reprise) 💖

Disney Detail: Many of Cinderella's tropes are synonymous with Disney Princess movies, but a couple of details are knowingly nodded to in 2007's Enchanted. One is Giselle's opening song where birds and mice are helping her make a dress, another is her reflection in the bubbles during 'Happy Working Song,' and the third is love interest Nancy Tremaine – played by the incomparable Disney legend Idina Menzel – being named after Cinderella's stepfamily. Luckily, she turned out not to be evil at all.

Why it's a Classic: Cinderella brings together the traditional fairy tale format that Walt Disney Studios are famous for, whilst incorporating contemporary style and flair in the animation. Cinderella herself, as well as the Fairy Godmother, are synonymous with Disney magic.  

Once Upon A Disney #11: The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad

It may have taken about four months longer than I imagined, but we've hit the last Disney animated film of the 1940s – thank sweet baby Jesus. While this week's film isn't a stone-cold classic, at least we have no pervy Donald Duck or creepy dummies. Instead, we get two somewhat familiar tales, with...

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)

A candidate for the longest title in the challenge, this film retells one British and one American tale – a toad-centric version of Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows, followed by Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Why it's not called 'The Adventures of Mr. Toad and Ichabod' we'll never know. 

Baby Toady, Baby Toady, Riding on a horse, Baby Toady (OOH OOH)

Firstly, to Mr. Toad. Narrated by Sherlock Holmes actor Basil Rathbone, this is a largely accurate retelling of Grahame's classic, leaning heavily on toad's antics and replacing some humans with animals, and vice versa. In true Disney style, an elaborately decorated book opens, taking us into the world of Wind in the Willows.

The tale is traditionally told, with all the familiar characters – Mole, Ratty (who looks like a typical Disney rodent ala The Rescuers), Badger (who has a very dodgy Scottish accent), and – of course – Mr. J. Thaddeus Toad himself. Joining the story is his horsey friend and general mischief-maker Cyril Proudbottom.

'I've had this Argos tree for 10 years!' 

As in the original tale, Mr. Toad ricochets from one sticky situation to another, driven by his fickle nature and greed – and a song or two. However, instead of being the primary cause of his own downfall (stealing a car and getting thrown into jail), he is much more victim in this version. He's hoodwinked by the ridiculously named Mr. Winkie, a sly barman who persuades Toad to trade his estate for a motorcar, not disclosing that it is stolen.

Never trust a dude with no bottom teeth

After rollicking along for about half an hour, the climax of this first section is an impressive setpiece. Having escaped from prison to find Toad Hall overrun by weasels, Toad and his friends hatch a plan to claim back his home, which results in a chaotic but well-engineered fight scene, full of slapstick and tension. Think of the scene in Beauty and the Beast when the household items drive out Gaston and his gang, and you're along the right lines.

All in all, Mr. Toad's adventure was a pretty entertaining way to pass the time, and I wouldn't mind watching it again.

Sometimes you can judge a man by his horse

The second tale takes a sinister turn – but not as much as you'd think. Far from the version of Sleepy Hollow I'm familiar with (the Tim Burton masterpiece) Disney's adaptation is much closer to the original folk tale, centering on schoolmaster Ichabod Crane's attempted romantic conquest, with only a little bit of headlessness right at the end.

Narrated by the ever-smooth Bing Crosby, Ichabod's story is a swing-infused romp around the famous gothic village, as our protagonist woos Tinkerbell Katrina Van Tassel. Despite his unfortunate looks – his nose is quite literally 'stuck in a book' – he is full to the brim with charm and a crooning singing voice, thanks to Crosby's voice acting.

A far cry from Johnny Depp

It's only in the story's third act that the spookiness seeps in. At the Van Tassel party, Katrina's other potential suitor, the Gaston-like Brom Bones, gets fed up of dancing with the crazy fat chick (bless her) and decides to tell the story of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Intended to drive his competitor away, he gets all the party guests to join in his joyously macabre rendition of 'Headless Horseman,' a Blues-inflected number, again performed by our man Bing.

The song does its job and lo-and-behold, Ichabod is chased out of town by the Headless Horseman, never to be seen again. Or so it's been told. Whilst I probably enjoyed the Mr. Toad section better, this is a decent, zippy retelling of a classic folktale, which watches a bit like a jazzy Beauty and the Beast with a Halloween vibe.

He is CARRYING A HUMAN WOMAN

And that's the 1940s DONE. Time for a good old string of classics until we hit the patchy 2000s (unless, of course, you're a closet Home on the Range fan).

Villain rating(s): 7/10 for Mr. Winkie, who, despite his name sounding like a Teletubby, is much more devious (but probably less creepy).

Best Song: 'Headless Horseman' is a BOP

Disney Detail: The Mr. Toad portion of the story inspired 'Mr. Toad's Wild Ride' at Disneyland California, where you ride in a motorcar, and the Toad Hall Restaurant at Disneyland Paris (where you can get fish and chips because Britain).

Why it's a Classic: It tells two well-loved stories with passable accuracy, and a dash of Disney magic thrown in. The storytelling techniques start to revert back to the OG classics, showing that the studio can still tell well-paced, long-form stories with catchy songs.

Once Upon A Disney #10: Melody Time

It might have taken 7 months, but – we finally made it to double figures, lads! 

If your patience for musical compilation films is wearing thin, you only have one more to endure, and that is... 

Melody Time (1948)

We're almost at the end of the 1940s, but there is always time for a little melody (or 6). Indeed, Melody Time picks up where Make Mine Music left off, showcasing popular artists of the age alongside some charming – and some slightly weird – animated sequences. 

Beginning with the pleasantly jazzy titular refrain 'Make Mine Music,' we're taken on a magical journey which pitstops at ice-skating bunnies, angelic farmers, an anthropomorphic boat, cowboys, and – gulp – the Three Caballeros. Oh yes, Donald the creep is back. 

Name a stranger collection of characters. I'll wait.

The animated variety show kicks off with 'Once Upon A Wintertime,' a sequence in which a rabbit couple mirrors a human couple as they frolic on the ice, the woman gets moody and falls in, and the man inevitably rescues her. Oh, Hollywood. However, casual sexism aside, it's a sweet musical number, and conveys a romantic little tale in colourful Disney style. 

Following a short interlude section 'Bumble Boogie,' where a bee has to escape from some musical notes against a swing-style version of 'Flight of the Bumblebee,' we zip into the next main story – 'The Legend of Johnny Appleseed.'

Before Gaston started his egg-eating regimen

Following the fabled life of turn-of-the-century American pioneer and tree-planter John Chapman, this section is the definition of Christian wholesomeness. The basic plot: a humble apple-tree farmer wants to go on an adventure with the pioneers, but doesn't know what he'd be useful for. An angel visits him and encourages him to roam the country planting apple trees, and voila – his life's purpose is complete. When he eventually dies after years of appley service, the angel returns to tell him he's needed in Heaven, as they're short on apples. 

Yes, that's it. However, this section is a lot more than the sum of its parts – the simplicity of the story allows for messages of kindness and tolerance (a rarity thus far in some of the previous, violent shorts), a surprising meditation on mortality, and an illustrative animation style that feels like a pretty children's book is being read to you by a loved one. It's just a bit heartwarming, really. 

Enter the Andrews Sisters, last heard in Make Mine Music, narrating the love story of a bonnet and a top hat. This time, a cheeky boat child called 'Little Toot' – who is unreasonably adorable – is up to no good and has to grow up and prove himself if he's going to win the respect of his family (his dad is also a boat). 

Can you adopt a boat? 

Of course, he's given the chance to weather stormy seas and become the hero, which is lovely. Musically, this is by far the catchiest tune so far, with the Andrews' faultlessly blending vocals narrating the entire story in rhyme. We'll ignore the fact that this is essentially an American rehash of 'Pedro' the plane tale from Saludos Amigos. 

After another nature-themed interlude – this time a sparkling, gorgeously animated tribute to Trees (creatively called 'Trees') – we're on the home straight. I'm sorry, I can't avoid it any longer. It's Samba time *shivers*.

Honestly. LEAVE HER ALONE.

Luckily, our final visit from Donald and José the parrot – at least I hope they won't make an appearance in a future film – is fairly inoffensive. Treading the same Latin boards as previous outings, the feathered friends reunite with the Aracuan Bird of The Three Caballeros fame, in a section fittingly entitled 'Blame it on the Samba.' Oh samba, you are to blame for so much. With the obligatory real-life woman dancing and playing an instrument, the birds sort of dance around her legs a little and then we're let off the hook. Phew. 

The finale takes a leaf out of Fun and Fancy Free's book – minus the inherent creepiness – and is framed by IRL actors spinning a yarn for a captive audience of kids. This time there's a boy AND a girl, they seem like they might actually be related to the adults, and there is no ventriloquist dummy. But there is a Western, Calamity Jane aesthetic. So far, so good.  

That's a bounce she'll regret

'Pecos Bill' is supposed to answer a little boy's question – 'Why do Coyotes howl at night?' It gives the most convoluted answer you could imagine, involving a feral child raised by Coyotes who becomes a gun-toting cowboy, lusts after a woman, gets married, and then loses her when she is propelled into outer space by bouncing on her bustle (i.e. butt). No word of a lie. Old Bill is so sad at this turn of events that he turns back to his Coyote ways and howls in grief for his lost love every night. 

... Anyway, 'Pecos Bill' aside, Melody Time is probably the most successful Disney compilation movie of the '40s. Each section looks nice visually, tells a succinct story, and the movie as, a whole, clips along at a manageable pace. But I cannot wait for a return to form soon. 

Villain Rating: 4/10 - That bustle has a lot to answer for 

Best Song: 'Little Toot,' cos he's so cute (see, I even rhymed!) 

Disney Detail: Aside from the references I already mentioned, Melody Time has just as much right as every other 1940s Disney animation to act as a musical time capsule of where the studio was at the time, warts and all. 

Why it's a Classic: It shows that Disney has learned something in the last decade. While it doesn't reach the dizzying heights of Fantasia, it's a definite improvement on Make Mine Music, and Fun and Fancy Free, in both animation quality and tone.

Once Upon A Disney #9: Fun and Fancy Free

Happy New Year Disney aficionados. I hope you had a magical, Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah time (yeah, that's right, I made a Song of the South reference, and I'm not even sorry. This is 2020 Soph).  

Well, what started as a weekly challenge hasn't quite gone according to plan, but as my new year's resolution is fast becoming... better late than never! There are only 2 more weeks of weird films to go, and seeing as January is pretty much a write-off month anyway, let's get these duffers done as soon as possible. 

Seeing as I watched this film literally MONTHS ago and I'm keen to crack on, this may be a particularly short post. Let's see what I can remember of... 

Fun and Fancy Free (1947)

I'll let the cat out of the bag – this is a film of two halves. There's the cute, fairly fun and fancy-free part, involving bears, chipmunks and jolly music. And then there's the genuinely terrifying half including real-life ventriloquist dummies and a possible paedo. 

The film opens with Jiminy Cricket singing a jazzy little opening number, and even includes a cameo from Cleo the fish from Pinocchio. Could we finally be in safe hands after weeks of creepy Donald Duck and singing hats? You might think so. After Jiminy draws attention to the startingly familiar problems making headlines in the1940s (Extinction and Global Warming), he decides it's time for some escapism. 

In this frame of mind, Jiminy introduces the first story of the film – 'Bongo'. Following the escapades of a circus bear who makes a break for it to reconnect with his natural roots, the section uses story-telling techniques from a variety of previous Disney movies. 

So far, so BEARable

First, we get the pastoral 'scene-setting' akin to Bambi, with cute forest animals weathering a storm to the backdrop of crooning vocals. Secondly, we follow Bongo the bear's exploited life in the circus (Dumbo immediately springs to mind). When Bongo breaks free and falls in love with a lady bear in the forest, we start to get 'Bambi and Thumper's inappropriately sexual longing for women' vibes. This soon descends into the gratuitous violence carried forward from more recent compilation movies like Make Mine Music, when Bongo has to fight off a competitor and then the bear's mating ritual turns out to be... slapping each other?! It's all a bit of a mess, but it's nothing compared to what's to come. 

Me after watching this film

The second half of the movie takes a decidedly tone-deaf turn, via the creepiest kid's birthday party in the history of Hollywood (and that's saying something). Jiminy gets invited to a large, conspicuously parent-less house, where a little girl in inexplicably celebrating her name-day with 'ventriloquist' and 'comedian' Edgar Bergen. I use inverted commas because he is terrible at both of these skills. Poorly handled by him are Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd, his terrifying puppets. The former looks exactly like the creepy dummies in Goosebumps, the latter looks as if his face has half melted off. 

I would not be able to sleep after this 'story time' 

Assuming we consider this whole set up as somehow normal, Edgar launches into telling the story of 'Mickey and the Beanstalk,' with frequent and painfully unfunny interjections from Charlie the Creep (as we will now call him) throughout. The story goes pretty much according to tradition – i.e. Mickey sows the magic beans, climbs the beanstalk, defeats the giant etc – but, like every other film he rears his quacky head in, Donald is an absolute menace. This time, rather than just being lechy, he's an axe wielding maniac. Of course, once Edgar has concluded his poorly narrated story, it's alls well that ends well, and – providing the little girl's parents come home at some point – there's no harm done. 

Mum: Delirious Donald Duck can't hurt you
Delirious Donald Duck: ... 

All in all, Fun and Fancy Free starts promisingly but will leave you stunned, a little afraid, and ultimately wishing you could get that 73 minutes of your life back. But you win some, you lose some I suppose.  

Villain Rating: 10/10 for Charlie the Creep, who is pure nightmare fuel

Best Song: "I'm a Happy-Go-Lucky Fellow" (sung by Jiminy Cricket at the beginning, when there's still hope) 

Disney Detail: From what I can remember, the chipmunks at the beginning of the 'Bongo' section seem to be an early version of the Chip N' Dale designs. Also, that whole segment calls back to the circus storyline in Dumbo. 

Why it's a Classic: The inclusion of Jiminy Cricket and Mickey Mouse don't do this film any favours, as they just remind you of better films that contained those characters (Pinocchio and Fantasia, respectively). However, the music is nice as always, and there are some cute, on-brand moments in the first half.  

Once Upon A Disney #8: Make Mine Music

The Autumn nights are drawing in, and the stormy weather is blustering me back into the warm arms of the Disney Classics challenge. The good news? This week, there's no sign of pervy Donald Duck. The bad news? We're still about a month away from any Disney movie you will have seen/heard of. For now, we're stuck firmly in Walt Disney's 1940s 'package film' phase, with... 

Make Mine Music (1946)

As the title suggests, Make Mine Music is all about pairing animation with famous pieces of music, in a concert-like format. It describes itself as 'A musical fantasy in 10 parts.' "So it's a rip off of Fantasia?" you may say. Well, yes, it does use a similar conceit. However, Make Mine Music has a few key differences that made me enjoy it more than the former (blasphemous, I know): 

1. It's 75 minutes long, compared to Fantasia's staggering 126-minute runtime 
2. It has 10 short, snappy segments, where Fantasia has 7 long, draggy segments 
3. Its creative choices speak far more to a young audience, with a good balance of contemporary and classical music and kid-friendly stories

As I said, there are some kid-friendly stories – but true to '40s Disney form, there's also some troubling darkness. The first segment in the film, 'The Martins and the Coys,' in which a bunch of hillbillies engages in a violent turf war, was banned for the US home entertainment release, due to excessive gun use (we were chill with it here in the UK, apparently). 

I'm getting serious Gaston vibes and NOT loving it.

For me, though, the violence in this section pales in comparison to the terrifying crowd mentality on display in the later story, 'Casey at the Bat.' An animated version of Ernest Thayer's Victorian poem about a baseball player whose arrogance is his downfall, Disney interprets this particular verse far too literally:

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, 

Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;

And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. 

You get the picture. I was scared. 

On the lighter front, both of the Benny Goodman sections did a great job of capturing the joyous side of the 1940s. 'All the Cats Join In' follows groups of carefree teens as they drive through the streets, sip on milkshakes, and lindy-hop into the night. 'After You've Gone' has anthropomorphic instruments dancing to an ultra-fast jazz orchestra, and it's as fun as it sounds.

When someone decides to grease the dancefloor

However, my favourite segment of the whole film was the, quite frankly ADORABLE, 'Johnny Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet.' Set to the delightful tones of The Andrews Sisters – and anyone that knows me can attest that I love a close harmony group – it follows the story of two hats that fall in love in a department store window in Edwardian New York. When the hats get sold to different customers, they are desperate to reunite, to the annoyance of their owners. With the atmosphere of a later movie like The Aristocats and the storytelling of a Pixar short, this section is full to the brim with charm. 

Hats falling love? Check. Hats being able to give birth to baby hats? Check.

The two other major parts of Make Mine Music are Disney's kid-friendly retelling of 'Peter and the Wolf,' and the sillier but also devastating 'The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met.' Both sections expertly balance comedy with a genuine threat. The wolf in 'Peter' is pure nightmare fodder, if only for his teeth, and the whale's tragic demise in 'the Met' is truly heartbreaking. However, the lasting image from 75 minutes of Make Mine Music does end up being a whale singing an aria in a wig and suit, so the comedy goal is achieved. 

While it hits a few bum notes, Make Mine Music was certainly less painful than it could have been. If it's Fantasia for dummies, then I'm definitely a well-entertained dummy.

Sea World used to be far more sophisticated back in the day.

Villain rating:  4/5 for the wolf's killer eyes 

Best Song: All the Cats Join In

Disney Detail: The 'Peter and the Wolf' section is narrated by Sterling Holloway, who voiced Winnie-the-Pooh, the Chesire Cat, Kaa the snake, and Roquefort from The Aristocats. Yup, the cute mouse! 

Why it's a Classic: Although disjointed by design, Make Mine Music shows how Disney understands its place in entertainment, blending the joyous side of contemporary culture with the cosiness of nostalgia. This is carried forward throughout their feature films, with the writers unafraid to put modern jokes and references into traditional fairytale stories. 

Once Upon A Disney #7: The Three Caballeros

Apologies for my brief hiatus, but I'll be honest – the next film in this challenge was not my favourite, and so I was putting it off. However, just like that piece of homework that you hoped would go away and never did, this movie ain't writing about itself. Not one to cheat on a self-imposed project, I've resolved that the sooner we crack on, the sooner we can get back to the true Disney magic. So, without further ado, let's dive into the exotic world of *gulp* ... 

The Three Caballeros (1944)

'Donald, get ready for more Samba music' 

In a nut (or taco) shell, The Three Caballeros takes Saludos Amigos to its logical extreme – when it really didn't have to. We're talking more Latin-inspired music; more Gauchos; more Donald Duck being borderline sociopathic, and just more minutes of profound strangeness. 

Like Saludos Amigos, the movie is made up of a series of short segments, but this time the narrative is loosely driven by Donald Duck receiving presents from his Latin American friends. The first is the most exciting gift you could hope for – a projector, on which you can watch a documentary about birds. So there's that. 

Next, we move on to 'The Cold-Blooded Penguin,' following a pretty cute little fella called Pablo, who just can't get warm in the South Pole, and decides to find balmier climes. By itself, it's a pretty entertaining short, but in the context of the movie, like Pablo himself, it doesn't really have a home. 

When you're at uni and too poor to turn the heating on.

Following the bird documentary and the penguin fable, we're treated to another short called 'The Flying Gauchito,' about a little South American boy who finds a flying donkey and decides to race him. So far, so bearable. But then things get really weird. Introducing... 

Donald the Creep. 

As it turns out, Donald Duck is one pervy waterfowl. The second half of the movie has Donald being guided around Brazil and Mexico, by his familiar cigar-smoking pal José Carioca, and a new beaked, gun-toting Mexican mate, Panchito Pistoles. Whilst José and Panchito are happy to dance with the locals and take magical carpet rides over Mexico, Donald has other ideas. 

'We've been dancing for 9 hours. When can we stop?'

From the minute he sets eyes on a singer in Baia (played by Carmen's sister Aurora Miranda), old Donny has chicks on the brain – and we're not talking the feathery kind. What starts as a comic-book 'lovestruck' reaction becomes an obsession with all females. This involves literally chasing after swimsuit-clad women on a beach and culminates in a strange fever dream around Miranda, which is very uncomfortable by today's standards. 

The creepiness is put into focus due to the fact that the women Donald is lusting after are real actors. Whilst the animated / live-action hybrid is impressively done, it does throw a light on the position women in Hollywood were put in at the time. It's shocking now to think that kids were being taught that women existing as the object of male sexual desire was just something to laugh at and shrug off. Although when you consider some '70s sitcoms, attitudes didn't change for quite some time. 

Going loco down in Acapulco  

#MeToo aside, The Three Caballeros has some interesting conceptual design, some sweet animation and romantic portrayals of South America, and seemed to do its job in capturing the hearts of a nation. But I will be relieved to get to a linear fairytale with some characters other than pervy man-birds. 

Villain rating: 4/5 (For Donald Duck being a complete creep). 

Best Song: Saludos Amigos

Disney Detail: Mary Blair, the lead designer on 'It's A Small World,' was a key animator on this movie, and the section on Mexican children's Christmas traditions oozes her colourful, cute style. 

'Maybe we'll get a properly good Disney movie inside!'

Why it's a Classic: To cut it some slack, it does showcase how Disney would use mixed media (live-action and animation) going forward, in movies like Mary Poppins and Bedknobs and Broomsticks. But it's pretty low on the rankings, tbh.