The Mickey Mouse Theater of the Air

Special to 2719 Hyperion by Jim Korkis

Old time radio shows are a delight, but just like shows on television today, some were great and not to be missed, some were mediocre, and others just did not capture the potential of their concept. Unfortunately, the Disney Studios attempt at a radio show fell into the last category.

In the 1930s, radio was king and people would often change their entire lives around so that they could hear the latest episode of their favorite show. Many popular comic strip and animated characters had already made the transition to the airwaves and there were shows like “Betty Boop Fables” and “Popeye the Sailor” that entertained young audiences. Advertisers desperately wanted to sponsor a show with the Walt Disney characters and both Lever Brothers (makers of Lifebuoy among other products) and Lucky Strike cigarettes had almost convinced Walt Disney to take a chance. However, it was Pepsodent toothpaste and their commitment to a weekly budget of $10,000 to $12,000 that finally brought the Disney characters to the air in more than just occasional guest appearances on other programs.

“The Mickey Mouse Theater of the Air” premiered on radio on January 2, 1938 in the NBC Sunday afternoon slot previously reserved for the antics of “Amos and Andy”. That show changed sponsors from Peposdent to Campbell Soup as well as time slots, and Pepsodent desperately wanted something as popular as those famous comedians to take up the slack.

During the half hour show, Mickey and the gang would travel through time and space thanks to the Magic Mirror from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to have adventures with everyone from Robin Hood to Cinderella to Old MacDonald. The half hour was also filled by music not just from the Felix Mills Orchestra but from Donald Duck’s Webfoot Sextet, that like the later Spike Jones Band, played a variety of odd instruments from cowbells to bottles to an auto horn for comic effect.

Here is the list of all twenty episodes of “The Mickey Mouse Theater of the Air”:

January 2, 1938: Robin Hood
January 9, 1938: Snow White Day
January 16, 1938: Donald Duck’s Band
January 23, 1938: The River Boat
January 30, 1938: Ali Baba
February 6, 1938: South of the Border
February 13, 1938: Mother Goose and Old King Cole
February 20, 1938: The Gypsy Band
February 27, 1938: Cinderella
March 6, 1938: King Neptune
March 13, 1938: The Pied Piper
March 20, 1938: Sleeping Beauty
March 27, 1938: Ancient China (with a guest appearance by Snow White!)
April 3, 1938: Mother Goose and the Old Woman in a Shoe
April 10, 1938: Long John Silver
April 17, 1938: King Arthur
April 24, 1938: Who Killed Cock Robin?
May 1, 1938: Cowboy Show
May 8, 1938: William Tell
May 15, 1938: Old MacDonald

You can listen to seven of these shows at this link.

Walt himself was busy with the promotion of the just released Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and in fact, supposedly only agreed to letting his characters on the air so that it could help promote that animated feature. The reason Walt hadn’t explored radio earlier was that he felt that his characters would not translate well to the medium, that audiences needed to see as well as hear the animated stars.. Unfortunately, Walt was only able to supply the voice of Mickey Mouse for the first three episodes. From the fourth show on, the voice of Mickey was comedian Joe Twerp (yes, that was his real name) whose comedy relied on being an excitable, stuttering person who confused words. He had been considered for the role of Doc, a similar personality, from Snow White, but Roy Atwell was chosen to supply that voice instead.

In fact, Walt got so busy that he couldn’t attend some of the recordings and that when the script called for Walt himself to make an appearance, he was sometimes impersonated by the announcer for the show, John Hiestand!

Minnie Mouse was performed by Thelma Boardman who would later supply Minnie’s voice in the some of the Disney cartoons of the 1940s. Pinto Colvig had left the Disney Studio by the time the show started so the role of Goofy was performed by Stuart Buchanan, who was the official “casting director” at the Disney Studios and had supplied the voice of the huntsman in Snow White. Donald Duck, of course, was voiced by the one and only Clarence Nash and Clara Cluck was Florence Gill. Both of them had performed the same roles in the Disney cartoons.

There were other voices on the show as well supplied by popular performers including Billy Bletcher (the voice of Pete in the cartoons who popped up as Old King Cole in the show), Hans Conreid (still many years from voicing Captain Hook who did a comical turn as the Pied Piper), Bea Benaderet (portraying Miriam the Mermaid in the kingdom of King Neptune), Cliff Arquette (“Charley Weaver” who voiced Old MacDonald), Walter Tetley, and many others including Mel Blanc. In fact, Blanc was a regular on the show but never voiced any of the Disney characters. He did do a character in several shows that got so excited that he couldn’t stop hiccuping whenever he talked. Perhaps this performance inspired Walt to use Blanc as Gideon the cat in the upcoming production of Pinocchio. The famous story that Blanc told over the years was that he recorded a voice for the cat but Walt cut everything but a hiccup from the final performance.

The show was not memorable and suffered from the fact that Walt could not give it his full attention so it quietly disappeared after only twenty episodes but it is still an interesting footnote in Disney history. Thankfully, the estate of the musical director of the “Mickey Mouse Theater of the Air,” Felix Mills, donated all his original transcription discs of the show to the Pacific Pioneer Broadcasters in California.

Consider the Source: She Had Eaten the Heart and Tongue

Editor Note:  In all the films Walt Disney produced during his lifetime, it was generally rare for one to be based on an original story.  Walt drew extensively from outside sources, primarily existing fiction and traditional tales and stories.  In many cases, the resulting "Disney version" has become the popular culture definitive, for better or for worse.  We are launching a new series here at 2719 Hyperion entitled Consider the Source, where we explore these original stories, novels and traditional tales that ultimately evolved into tangible representations of Disney entertainment.  First up, we deal with the Grimm realities of a certain classic fairy tale . . .

There exist numerous variations of the story that forms the basis of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.  Bella Venezia is an Italian version; Myrsina has roots in Greek folklore, while Nourie Hadig is Armenian in origin and Gold Tree and Silver Tree is a part of Celtic tradition.  Walt Disney drew his inspiration from the most well known version of the tale, Snow-White and the Seven Dwarfs, as famously chronicled by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm in the early 19th century.

Walt remained quite faithful to much of the Grimm rendition. The fundamentals such as the Wicked Queen, the Magic Mirror and the poisoned apple remained in place while he expanded on other elements.  He was much lauded for creating distinct names and personalities for each of the dwarfs, who were generic and unnamed in the original Grimm text.   In their account, the Brothers Grimm chronicled two other failed attempts by the Queen to kill Snow White, first with a tightened corset and then subsequently with a poisoned hair comb.  Walt had considered the comb sequence for the film but ultimately decided that the pace of the story was better served by just the single encounter involving the poisoned apple.

The Disney version also proved much more romantic.  Added was the early scene where Snow White and the Prince first meet, a sequence entirely without basis in the Grimm story.  Walt also added the penultimate awakening kiss which had actually originated in a 1914 silent film version of the story; the Grimms had revived her by simply having the piece of poisoned apple accidentally dislodged from her mouth.

The Grimm brothers being grim indeed, Walt excised two of their harsher and distinctly more graphic story elements.  Wisely removed was the evil queen's intended act of cannibalism.  Upon the huntsman's return from the forest, the Queen consumes what she thinks is the heart and tongue of her step-daughter.  Due to the machinations of the huntsman, she had actually eaten the parts of a wild boar.  Also, the ultimate fate of the Queen varied greatly from page to screen.  In the film, she dramatically falls to her death after a lightning strike.  In the Grimm version, upon attending the wedding of Snow White and her Prince at the very end of the story, she was fitted with a pair of red-hot iron shoes and forced to, ". . . dance in them till she fell down dead."

"And Standard Makes My Flivver Fly!"

1
From East! From West! For many a mile

They've come to visit Treasure Isle!

"Such crowds!" quacks Donald. "I must say

The gang's all here for "Snow White Day!'"

And such excitement! See folks run!

They leave the Tower of the Sun--

They flock from Courts of Moon and Flowers—

The Gayway--and the Elephant Towers.

2

Cries Donald, "Step up! Right this way!

She's fair as San Francisco Bay!"

The throng the big arena packs--

"She'll be here soon now," Donald quacks.

But no! A shout rings through the air!

"Snow's kidnapped! Help! Surround the Fair!"

3

Max Hare alone, in all the throng,

Had seen the villain do his wrong!

"The Wolf!" cries Max. "He snatched Snow White

And ran that way—with all his might!"

Yells Mickey, "Let me lead the chase!

With Standard Gas I'll win this race!

Quick! Get my car! She'll start in high

And Standards makes my flivver fly!"

4

Upon the bridge that spans the Bay

Brave Mickey overhauls his prey!

"Unhand her, villain! Free Snow White!

You've met your Waterloo, all right!"

"You saved me!" cries Snow White. But he
Says, blushing, "Standard Gas-and me!"

In 1939, Walt Disney partnered with the Standard Oil Company to produce an advertising campaign featuring many of the studio's well known cartoon characters. The commercial short The Standard Parade was perhaps the most famous and lasting component of that campaign, though the campaign extended to other media as well. Little seen since their original publications were newspaper ads that featured rhyming storytelling not altogether far removed from the Good Housekeeping magazine pages that had been popular throughout the 1930s.

I have found three "Tiny Tykes" ads that appeared weekly in the Los Angeles Times during May and June of 1939. This one is particularly significant in that it very prominently showcases San Francisco's Golden Gate Exposition, the west coast counterpart to the New York World's Fair at Flushing Meadows.

A "flivver" originally referred to a Ford Model T, but by 1939 had become a slang term for any old, run down automobile.

The Snow White Cafe

More a victim of geography than any lack of passion on its author's part, 2719 Hyperion has distinctly displayed an east coast bias over its short history. Longtime supporter, great friend, fellow animation enthusiast and organist supreme Rob Richards helps us rectify that to some extent as he guides us to a not-quite-so-famous Disney landmark right in the heart of Tinseltown:

The Walt Disney Company has a major presence on Hollywood Boulevard, in Hollywood, California.

Its historic El Capitan theatre attracts approximately a half million guests each year with movies, stage shows and live music with its world famous Mighty Wurlitzer.

Less than a block away, a small neighborhood bistro creates a very modest presence by comparison. Yet the Snow White Café has a historic Disney legacy all its own.

The menu has very little to say – just one sentence! (This is likely by design, avoiding any conflict with the legal department of a certain Burbank studio.) The menu states that in 1946, Disney studio artists painted the huge original mural (inside, above the front door). Rendered in a recognizably Disney style, it proclaims "We hope we have pleased you!"

Rumor has it that the animators (and Walt, too) used to frequent the café, meeting there to brainstorm while having a light meal or a “cup of joe.” Supposedly, the mural was a gift given as a token of appreciation for the café’s hospitality to studio personnel.

There are many pieces of artwork throughout the café, yet the menu acknowledges only the front door artwork as original. Were there other original paintings “once upon a time?” Were they repaired? Replaced? Or are the additional paintings just Disney look-alikes? Who painted these? There are more questions than answers.

Even though its provenance is vague, Hollywood’s SNOW WHITE CAFÉ is certainly of interest to Disney aficionados. And for locals and visitors, it still serves a great breakfast for six bucks!

Here is your personal photographic tour of the SNOW WHITE CAFÉ. If you plan a visit to Hollywood, be sure and stop in to see it for yourself.

Thanks so much to Rob for revealing to us this wonderful out of the way corner of Walt Disney's Hollywood. To learn more about Rob and his many interests and endeavors, visit his website, and also be sure to check out his terrific blog Animation Backgrounds.

Found Imagineering: A Mine Train and Storybook Circus

The most interesting new component of the redrawn Walt Disney World Fantasyland plans is certainly the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train.  This indoor coaster will supplant the Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty venues that were part of the original expansion plans.  According to Disney sources, this new Snow White-themed attraction will, " . . . take you on a rollicking, musical ride into the mine,” and, " . . . feature a first-of-its kind ride system with a train of ride vehicles that swing back and forth as they whisk along the track."

The existing Snow White's Scary Adventures will be no more, replaced with the Princess Fairytale Hall, an elaborate meet-and-greet featuring all the Disney Princesses.  I found this bit of news particularly disappointing.  While I am not in any way opposed to the elimination of the Snow White's Scary Adventures due to its evolution into a wholly new attraction, it is disheartening to learn that it will be replaced with yet another meet-and-greet location instead of a brand new dark ride.  When you consider that Disneyland is overflowing with unique Fantasyland dark rides (Pinocchio, Toad, Alice), what would be so difficult about creating another D-Ticket level attraction in Florida?

Surviving the revisions are the Beauty and the Beast restaurant and attraction venues that were previously announced.  These include the Be Our Guest Restaurant, Gaston's Tavern, Belle's Village and the Enchanted Tales with Belle interactive show.  The Dumbo-centric circus grounds also remain and have been formally named the Storybook Circus.  Details about this area are still somewhat ambiguous, although it has been confirmed that the Barnstormer coaster will be re-themed and feature Goofy as the "Great Goofini."  The existing Toontown Fair tents will be recycled and re-purposed as circus tents and contain, " . . . fun-filled interactive experiences for kids of all ages."  And of course, The Journey of the Little Mermaid, perhaps the project's most high profile attraction, remains in place.

The Fantasyland expansion at Walt Disney World is due for overall completion sometime in 2013.

One Enchanted Evening

When it comes to Enchanted, I'm just a little bit late to the ball. Holiday travels and a busy work schedule kept me away from the multiplex until this past weekend, but Disney's very loving and incredibly entertaining tribute to its own fairy tale heritage was well worth the wait.

I have to admit that, despite the generally favorable buzz that surrounded Enchanted this past year, it remained relatively low on my radar screen. Though certainly lucrative, Disney's Princess brand of late has not reflected creatively sensibilities so much as marketing opportunities. Despite the film's many glowing reviews, as I entered the theater a small chip of cynicism remained ever present on my shoulder.

It was quickly knocked off.

Enchanted is a whimsical, happy, yet still smart and often rather sophisticated musical comedy. It is a homage to the Walt Disney Studio's long standing dynamic of fairy tale animation, and it makes no apologies for embracing that premise. The very clever transition at the beginning from the Studio's relatively new digitally-enhanced Castle-centric opening fanfare into the movie itself via a very nostalgic storybook introduction (complete with Julie Andrews narration), leaves no doubt that you have entered a Disney-inspired, and equally notable, Disney-celebrated, cinematic environment.

The film's animated segments were produced by James Baxter Animation, whose namesake's resume includes tours-of-duty at both Disney and Dreamworks. The animation remains very true to its forebears such as Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, but injects a healthy dose or two of cartoon-based exaggeration to reflect the story's broader and more comedic approach to the archetypes, settings and themes presented.

Giselle, the movie's fish-out-water heroine and her ever faithful and determined Prince Edward most definitely epitomize Disney-based fairy tale models. Thrust into the reality of present day Manhattan by the evil machinations of Edward's stepmother Narissa, Giselle upends the life of divorce lawyer Robert Phillip and his young daughter Morgan, while awaiting rescue by her fair prince and unknowingly dodging attempts on her life by Narissa's misguided henchman Nathanial.

What emerges is a battle of romantic notions as Giselle's purities of heart and intent collide directly with Robert's cynicism and also his uninspired relationship with his girlfriend Nancy.

Amy Adams is simply a revelation as Giselle, portraying the character's naivety and goofy innocence as much through nuance and body language as through dialog and song. While fellow cast members, especially Patrick Dempsey as Robert and James Marsden as Edward, are equally deserving of accolades, Enchanted is clearly Adams' showcase, and no doubt her name will likely be appearing on numerous ballots this upcoming awards season.

While some have expressed disappointment in the Alan Mencken/Stephen Schwartz musical numbers, I myself found them a refreshing departure from the more Broadway-based stylings of the 1990s Disney storybook productions. The gentler approach taken with the Enchanted numbers reflects the more understated musical qualities of Disney's earlier era fairy tales, most especially Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

In fact, Enchanted's princess pedigree is more firmly rooted in those golden era classics than their later 20th century counterparts such as Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. Giselle's undying optimism and romantic idealism feel more akin to Snow White and Cinderella than to Ariel, Belle or Jasmine. Similar to this year's earlier Meet the Robinsons, the film also has a very heartfelt and emotional resolution set to song. The sequence notably revisits the pop-up storybook design that opened the film, and then allows Disney Legend Julie Andrews to intone the concluding ". . . and they all lived happily ever after."

And much in the way that Meet the Robinsons created a distinct and very emotional connection to the creative philosophies of Walt Disney, Enchanted conveys similarly the very noble themes of love, hope and optimism that Walt attempted to infuse into all his efforts. By respecting those qualities rather than mocking them (as many recent animated films have done), director Kevin Lima has fashioned an experience that will likely become as evergreen as the original entertainment that inspired it.

Stamp Magic

Today was the issue date for the newest set of commemorative Disney themed stamps from United States Postal Service. Magic is the theme in this, the fourth release in The Art of Disney series. It follows prior themes of friendship, celebrations and romance. Here's a great recap from the USPS website of Disney's history with the postal service:

"The Disney relationship with the U.S. Postal Service began in the summer of 1918 when Walt Disney sorted and delivered mail in the Chicago Post Office. Next, Mickey Mouse worked for the Post Office when he starred in the 1933 animated short "Mail Pilot." The achievements of Walt Disney were first recognized on a stamp in 1968. On that stamp, a parade of children, hand-in-hand, appear from a tiny castle to surround a portrait of Walt Disney. The children, representing many nations of the World, are garbed in native costume.

"In 1998, a "Snow White" stamp was issued as part of the Postal Service's "Celebrate the Century" stamp series that highlighted the most memorable and significant people, places, events and trends of each decade of the 20th century. In 1937, "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" premiered as the nation's first feature-length animated film. The movie classic was created from 240,000 separate drawings and won a special Academy Award™ for Walt Disney.

"The Art of Disney: Friendship stamps issued in 2004, the first in the current series, honored friendship as it appears in the art of Walt Disney and featured Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Donald Duck and a host of Disney friends. The Art of Disney: Celebration stamps issued in 2005 were the second in the series and featured Mickey Mouse and Pluto, Alice and the Mad Hatter, Ariel and Flounder, and Snow White and Dopey. The third in the series, The Art of Disney: Romance stamps issued in 2006 highlighted the love between Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse, Lady and the Tramp, Belle and the Beast, and Cinderella and Prince Charming. Each time, U.S. Postal Service art director Terrence McCaffrey joined the Disney team, including artist Peter Emmerich and creative director Dave Pacheco, in designing the stamps.

Studio Geo: The House That Snow White Built

Walt Disney began his career as a filmmaker in January of 1920 when he took a job making animated advertisements for the Kansas City Film Ad Company. It was the beginning of a journey that would take a struggling young artist and entrepreneur and eventually mold him into one of the most celebrated icons of 20th century popular culture. The historical map of that journey is an extraordinary one.

Welcome to Studio Geo. These are the places where Walt Disney created his moving pictures:

The Walt Disney Studios - Burbank, California

The success of Mickey Mouse was certainly the primary financial force behind the growth and expansion of the Hyperion Avenue studios. In much the same way, Disney's sprawling and meticulously designed Burbank complex was a house initially built by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Greatly expanded and dramatically modified over the past seven decades, it remains the home of the Walt Disney Company.

Walt wasted no time putting his Snow White profits to work. In August, 1938 he purchased 51 acres of land adjacent to Buena Vista Street in Burbank. Construction on the new studio began almost immediately thereafter and the new facilities were for the most part complete and being occupied by early 1940.

The Walt Disney Company's official history notes that, "Walt was personally involved with all aspects of designing the studio. From the layout of the buildings to design of the animators' chairs, nothing was left to chance. His main concern was to produce a self-sufficient, state-of-the-art production factory that provided all the essential facilities for the entire production process." The new studio, designed primarily by architect Kem Weber, was a graceful swan to the Hyperion studio's ugly duckling. But despite its attractive, campus-like setting and its sleek, streamline modern designs, many members of Disney staff, from artists to service workers, found the aesthetics of their new workplace cold, somewhat sterile and often overwhelming. Over time though, most adapted, probably due in part to numerous employee-friendly amenities that included recreational facilities, a popular commissary and even a full service gas station.

Although the Burbank facilities were designed specifically for producing animation, large soundstages were systematically added to the lot to accommodate gradual increases in live action productions. Stage One was built in 1940 as part of the original design and was used initially to film the live-action orchestra sequences for Fantasia. Stage Two was added in 1949 in an arrangement with actor/producer Jack Webb who filmed his Dragnet television series there for a number of years. That stage later became home to the original Mickey Mouse Club in 1955. Stage Three, complete with a water tank, was built in 1954 specifically for the filming of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Stage Four was added in 1958 and first used for the film Darby O'Gill and the Little People.

Back-lot streets and sets began to emerge in the mid-1950s, at first to accommodate television productions such as Zorro, Elfego Baca and Texas John Slaughter, and then live action feature films that had become the lion's share of the company's output. The back-lot was comprised of four primary groups of exterior sets and facades: a western town, a traditional town square, a residential street, and the Zorro pueblo that was later converted into a French village. The back-lot was eventually phased out over time and replaced with an office building, a parking structure and two additional soundstages.

Far more so than the Hyperion studios, the Burbank studios became much more recognizable to the general public. Walt first showcased the studio in the 1941 feature The Reluctant Dragon, where comedian Robert Benchley bumbled through much of the lot in what amounted to a lighthearted documentary on the making of Disney cartoons. Later, the studio and its environs were frequent backdrops for the Disneyland, Wonderful World of Color and Wonderful World of Disney television programs.

The Walt Disney Company has dramatically expanded in recent decades into an international entertainment conglomerate, and so has the Burbank complex correspondingly enlarged and grown. Following extensive company restructuring in the mid-1980s, then CEO Michael Eisner commissioned architect Michael Graves to create the Team Disney building, an imposing structure that now dominates the studio lot, with its outsized Seven Dwarfs sculptures paying subtle homage to the film that financed Disney's move to Burbank. At roughly the same time, Walt Disney Feature Animation was ironically exiled to a warehouse in Glendale. The department returned to Burbank in 1995 in a new and larger building, replete with a giant Mickey Sorcerer's Hat, directly across the street from the main studio complex.

A street sign that still marks the corner of Mickey Avenue and Dopey Drive has become a company icon of sorts, although its attached pointers to studio departments such as LAYOUT, MULTIPLANE, INK & PAINT and IN BTWEEN have long lost their relevance as directional cues and now serve more as historical markers.

Explore the 2719 Hyperion Archives:

Studio Geo Part 1: Kansas City and the Laugh-O-Grams

Studio Geo Part 2: Kingswell and the Disney Brothers Studio

Studio Geo Part 3: Lightning in a Bottle - 2719 Hyperion

Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and . . . Hank Porter?

A very good friend presented me with a Christmas gift this holiday season, in what to me was an incredibly heartfelt and exceedingly generous gesture. For a period in the late 1930s, relatives of my friend collected celebrity autographs. They did this by mailing blank business cards, commonly called fan cards, to the various Hollywood studios, whose publicity departments would acquire the requested signatures, then return them, usually in a SASE.

As close as my friend can estimate, sometime in 1938 her aunt and uncle mailed a request for Walt Disney’s autograph to 2719 Hyperion Avenue. Not long after, the previously blank card came back to them. Here’s what they received:
And it is this wonderful piece of Disneyana that she passed on to me.

What made this gift especially great was that I immediately knew there had to be a story behind it. Why? Because even though it was quite possible that Mickey and Donald both signed the card, it was fairly clear that Walt didn’t pen his name. Walt’s signature, while evolving somewhat over the years, was always very distinct and elaborate. This particular printed version had some of that flair, but most definitely came from another’s hand. My curiosity was immediately aroused; how did the studio handle these requests back then, and would it be possible to determine just who put ink (and marker) to the card?

To help answer these questions, I enlisted the aid of Jeff Kurtti who was quickly able to provide some answers. Jeff gave me the following information from Phil Sears Collectibles web site:

At least a dozen Disney Studio staff members signed Walt Disney's name to comics, fan items, promotional material, etc., over the years. The most common proxy signatures are by Hank Porter in the 1930's & 1940's, and Bob Moore beginning in the 1950's. Keep in mind that Walt NEVER drew a single Walt Disney newspaper comic or comic book, but every one of those was "signed" with a Walt Disney signature- by the artist, of course. Fortunately, Walt's own writing has distinct characteristics that distinguish it from these copies. Even so, autograph "experts" have written books in which they mis-identify Walt's autograph and those of his artists.

Jeff then gave me his assessment:

My guess is that your fan card is a Hank Porter, from the late 1930s.

Both David Lesjak and Didier Ghez have profiled Porter on their blogs, providing the following information:

Porter was a really interesting guy, and a wonderful artist. Porter was a staff artist of the Publicity Art Department from 1936 to 1950. He is the artist of the Sunday pages with the movie characters 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' and 'Pinocchio'. 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' appeared in the Sunday pages of the American newspapers from 12 December 1937 to 24 April 1938. Note that the actual movie wasn't released until 27 December, so the comic began its run prior to the film's release. His 'Pinocchio' Sunday ran from December 1939 to April 1940. The adaptations were written by Merrill De Maris and inked by Bob Grant. Porter also did several covers and illustrations for Mickey Mouse Magazine and Dell's Walt Disney's Comics and Stories. Walt also had Porter head up the World War II insignia unit, where in addition to supervising (and in many cases drawing) the more that a thousand insignia created by Disney, he also did a ton of other specialty drawing focused on the war effort.

Porter loved to play the piano and being left-handed, was quite an accomplished player. His favorite piano arrangement was Rhapsody in Blue. At one point in time Porter was invited to become a member of The Firehouse Five Plus Two, a Dixieland jazz band, which consisted of fellow Disney artists Danny Alguire, Harper Goff, Ward Kimball, Clarke Mallery, Monte Mountjoy, Ed Penner and Frank Thomas. Other Disney artists who also played with the band included George Probert, George Bruns, Ralph Ball and Dick Roberts. The band recorded some 13 albums beginning in 1955 and ending in 1970. For some unknown reason, Porter declined the offer to join the band.

I had previously read about Porter in the book Disney Dons Dogtags, that spoke to his work on the studio’s insignia unit, but was not familiar with the other information about him that Jeff provided. It was a real delight to learn about one of the studio’s very talented, but largely uncelebrated artists. I did some additional digging and found that Porter was, along with Tom Wood, responsible for the artwork from the Walt Disney pages featured in Good Housekeeping from 1934-1944. Their work there has recently been collected in a wonderful book, Walt Disney’s Mickey and the Gang, published by Gemstone Publishing.

Thanks to Jeff Kurtti for taking time to help with this.

And very special thanks to my friend Betsy for her generous gift. She gave me something that came directly from 2719 Hyperion Avenue, and that means a lot to me for very obvious reasons.

Dumbo: The Little Movie That Could

In Dumbo, Casey Jr. is the little engine that could, full of resolve and determination despite its small stature humble nature.  Similarly, The film Dumbo itself is the little movie that could, a pure and undisputed classic of Disney animation that is in many ways still overshadowed by its immediate predecessors--Snow White, Pinocchio and Fantasia.

Though less epic in both scope and length, Dumbo remains an often visually stunning film with an emotional depth both remarkable and sincere.  Clocking in at a mere 63 minutes, it makes everyone of those minutes count.  Disney historian John Grant very succinctly pinpointed the film's appeal and historical significance when he noted, "Dumbo was cheap and brilliant.  This was essentially because of its artistry.  Dumbo may not have had the richness of a Snow White, a Pinocchio or a Bambi, but what it did have was a simple and emotive story well told."

Despite its richly deserved reputation among critics and historians, Dumbo remains a second tier Disney title, at least as far as the company's marketing gurus have been concerned.  It has never earned a prestigious Platinum or Diamond designation in regard to its DVD releases, an honor that still eludes it in its just released high definition Blu-ray set.  Dumbo is instead a veteran of "Anniversary" marketing; 60th and 65th standard DVD editions were released in 2001 and 2006 respectively, while the new Blu-ray carries a 70th Anniversary branding.  Yet, despite not getting the high end Diamond treatment, this new home entertainment incarnation is commendable for not just its new high definition resolution but some rather new and notable bonus features.

The set recycles some content from the previous DVD editions, most notably the Celebrating Dumbo featurette and two Silly Symphonies cartoon shorts, Elmer Elephant and The Flying Mouse.  New content is minimal but quite significant.  Taking Flight: The Making of Dumbo is an exceptionally well realized short documentary that serves to entertain and inform even the most knowledgeable and seasoned Disney enthusiasts.  I was very happy to see two of my favorite fellow Disney historians, F. Paul Anderson and Didier Ghez among the assembled talking heads.  The feature is especially notable for sensitively addressing and ultimately dispelling the racially-based controversy that has long been associated with the depiction of the crow characters.  Also new are two recently discovered deleted scenes, "The Mouse's Tale" and "Are You a Man or a Mouse?"  The former is an especially charming sequence where Timothy explains the origins of the elephant-mouse dynamic.  Less impressive is The Magic of Dumbo: A Ride of Passage, a very quick and overly sentimental look at Disneyland's Dumbo the Flying Elephant attraction.

Though it certainly deserves better, Dumbo is generally well served in this newest "Anniversary" Blu-ray/DVD edition.  A must for the high definition collector and an upgrade of sorts from the prior DVD releases. 

Vintage Headlines: Santa Claus and Walt Disney on the Same Day

Walt Disney's second venture into television was the holiday special The Walt Disney Christmas Show which was broadcast at 3PM on Christmas Day 1951.  It followed by one year Disney's first television program, One Hour in Wonderland that had debuted on Christmas 1950.

Newspaper columnist Bob Foster provided this preview of the show on December 18, 1951:

Television is only a few years old, but already a number of traditions have been founded which make it a bit more enjoyable around Christmas time. One of the most delightful traditions to be set up is the annual appearance of Walt Disney before the television cameras. Because Christmas is basically children's holiday, this year, as last, Walt leaves his studio and produces for television on the "Walt Disney Christmas Show."  And what a show he has lined up for this year. Disney will devote more time to his cartoon characters. There will be the Uncle Remus Tar Baby sequence from "Song of the South." a scene from "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" and "Bambi," plus previews from Disney's next big feature, "Peter Pan," now in production, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Pluto, Goofy and others will, of course, contribute their comedy cavorting. Live talent will include Bobby Driscoll, Kathryn Beaumont, Hans Conried, Bill Thompson, Don Barclay, all of whom have taken part in Disney films. The show, according to advance notices, will open in the convalescent ward of a children's hospital on Christmas morning, with Dr. Miller, played by Don Barclay, entering as Santa Claus. This should be a wonderful afternoon for the kiddies as well as adults, especially for Christmas. Ann and Lyn, our two little "Indians." are already talking about the Disney show and look to Christmas with great expectations. Why not? What more could you want, Santa Claus and Walt Disney on the same day.

Television reporter James Abbe provided this brief review of the show on December 26, 1951:

The Walt Disney Christmas Show on TV yesterday was still entrancing even when the color of the movie production had been lost.  Anything so well done originally as Disney's Bambi, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Uncle Remus, can still get under the skin of young and old alike.  One solid hour of Disney classics went out over 57 stations of the CBS-TV network with Walt Disney himself acting as emcee before a gathering of enthusiastic children.

The program's sponsor, Johnson and Johnson provided $250,000 to produce the special, a figure unprecedented in the medium's then short history.  CBS, embarrassed by not running the 1950 show, quickly lined up the 57 stations that sealed the broadcast agreement with Johnson and Johnson.

The special is notable in that it included an appearance by Bobby Driscoll dressed as Peter Pan, the character he would voice in the 1953 animated feature.

The show itself is generally inaccessible, but curiously it was included on the UK version of the Peter Pan Platinum edition DVD, but not on the comparable US edition.

The Reality of Wall-E

Wall-E doesn't play by the rules. I refer to Wall-E the film as opposed to Wall-E the character.

While it seems that praise has been nearly universal for this latest Pixar film, a considerable amount of dialog has emerged about what many consider the movie's somewhat odd mixture of formats. Specifically, the initial presentation of photo-realistic characters and environments, the use of live-action footage (primarily in the scenes featuring actor Fred Willard) and the somewhat dramatic aesthetic shift to the more cartoony realizations of the human beings aboard the Axiom spaceship in the film's latter half.

Noted animator and animation historian Michael Sporn noted on his blog, "I was, again, impressed with the incredible artistic abilities of the Pixar people, but I didn’t feel as though I were watching an animated film. It felt like a live action film (until the balloony fat people entered) with high effects. Perhaps that’s a positive; I’m not sure anymore. Pinocchio, Bambi, Dumbo, Snow White. These films were magic to me as a child. I imagine Wall-E is like every other effects film to today’s children. I can’t imagine it will inspire future generations to get into the field. Maybe, you never know."

I agree with Michael; very often over the course of Wall-E's 97 minutes, I completely lost the sense of this being an animated film. In fact, so immersed was I in this environment that, when EVE ignited a cigarette lighter in one of the movie's earlier scenes and my friend next to me marveled at how the flame was a simple yet amazing piece of animation, it took me a moment to understand what he was talking about. And I understand Michael's reservations as well. With much of Wall-E, Pixar has stepped beyond the very genre it has espoused and remained generally faithful to over the course of its prior eight films. They clearly decided to, in many aspects, move beyond what would be considered a traditional animated presentation. To many, especially industry professionals like Michael, it begs the question--are we watching something akin to Pinocchio or Snow White, or product more related to George Lucas' FX-driven opuses, or blue screen-filmed dynamics like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and 300?

I believe the answer to that question is truly rooted in the out-of-box creative approach that Pixar has long been noted for. Wall-E is unconventional. It moves beyond the unwritten but still somewhat ingrained rules of animation presentation, and does so in the service of the story it wishes to tell. I submit that the combination of the film's disjointed aesthetic dynamics was very much a deliberate choice on the part of Andrew Stanton and his team. The movie's three very distinct design approaches--photo-realistic animation, live-action actors and sets, and cartoon-based characters--are in fact integral components of the film's overall theme and story.

While Wall-E is at its heart a character-driven love story, it is played out on a thematic canvas that contrasts reality with the artificial. Robots are artificial; that is and has been a consistent truism of all entertainment media. And typically accompanying that truism is the story device of imbuing robots with sentience and emotions. But that plot dynamic is in fact not really central to Wall-E. Wall-E is introduced as a fully developed personality, not requiring a journey of self-discovery. He is a survivor very aware of his harsh reality, a being who understands concepts of loyalty and friendship, and more than anything he is a lonely dreamer yearning for companionship. Though artificial in construct, Wall-E is very real; he is not very far removed from current executions of robot-based technology, thus he is all the more believable. In turn, his native environment is equally believable; from the haunting landscapes of an abandoned and garbage-filled megalopolis, right down to his battered Rubik's Cube and comical collection of garden gnomes. The intention becomes clear, Wall-E's world is not very far removed from our own.

The establishment of Wall-E and his environment by use of photo-realistic animation then serves to contrast the film's other not so subtle overriding theme--the reverse-evolution of humanity. Closeted aboard a giant cruise ship-inspired spacecraft, the human race has wholly embraced the artificial. Theirs is an existence of commercial over-consumption, supported by an infrastructure that simultaneously exposes and insulates them from their environment and fellow beings. The physical-emotional connectivity that Wall-E so desperately desires is seemingly always within reach for the denizens of the Axiom, but ironically only occurs by accident.

In filmed entertainment, there is in fact nothing more artificial than traditional cartoon-style animation. And so we thus see that transformation of human beings in the film. Humanity, as initially represented by the very real character of Buy-N-Large CEO Shelby Forthright, portrayed by Willard, is ultimately supplanted by the very artificial and cartoon style-designed incarnations aboard the Axiom. It is an evolution that is cleverly documented via the portraits of the Axiom Captains that hang on the wall in the current ship captain's quarters. It is there in that one subtle but very important set piece that the filmmakers' aesthetic and design intentions become especially clear.

Characteristic of Pixar, it is indeed a bold move. For they in fact use the various different formats of filmed presentation in the service of storytelling and transcend the very medium they have long been associated with. In many circles, especially those within the animation industry, it will likely remain a debated and somewhat controversial topic. As strictly a moviegoer, for me, Wall-E presented a wholly new and original approach to the animation genre. We can certainly split hairs as to how we want to categorize and classify the film, but in the end, at least in my opinion, it will remain a wonderful combination of stunning visuals and heartfelt storytelling.

Image © Walt Disney Company

Windows to the Past: Snow White in a Rose Parade

Walt Disney and Disney characters have had a long association with the Tournament of Roses Parade that takes place every New Years Day in Pasadena, California. Walt was the Grand Marshall of the parade in 1966, and Mickey Mouse held that same honor some four decades later in 2005. But one of the earliest Disney-Rose Parade connections is displayed in this photo from the 1938 parade. Coming almost immediately on the heels of the film's December 1937 premiere at the Carthay Circle Theatre was this parade float that featured Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Snapshot! - Snow White and the Floral Dwarfs

Another great vignette from Epcot's 2008 International Flower and Garden Festival. Bordering the World Showcase Lagoon near the Germany pavilion is this flower garden that features beautiful horticultural incarnations of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Mickey's Fire Brigade - August 3, 1935

There is so much pre-Snow White Disney animation that goes largely unrecognized and unnoticed, even though all of those early Hyperion Avenue efforts essentially laid the groundwork for the studio’s big leap into feature films. A shining example of this highly concentrated period of brilliance and creativity could easily be the Mickey Mouse cartoon, Mickey’s Fire Brigade, released on this day in 1935.

Mickey’s Fire Brigade was the second of what would become the well known “trio” shorts of the late 1930s that showcased Mickey, Donald Duck and Goofy . It followed Mickey’s Service Station by a little more than three months, and clearly benefited from the advancement into Technicolor that had just become the standard of all the studio’s productions. It would be hard to imagine this very color-intensive film executed in the stark grayscale designs that Mickey’s Service Station had then still been burdened with.

The film’s mid-1930s pedigree is readily apparent as represented by Donald and Goofy, who retain much of their early years characteristics. The Goof is still very much channeling his Dippy Dawg persona, and Donald’s long bill and lanky body remain very much in place.

Throughout the history of animation, fire has often been morphed into a personality-based entity, but never more successfully than in this particular cartoon. From the moment the title card erupts into flames, fire becomes a character every bit as distinct and adversarial as a villain such as Pete, or as pronounced as even the malicious and mischievous specters from The Lonesome Ghosts. When Donald and Goofy first approach the burning house, they are immediately met by very clever and highly motivated fire-based manifestations. Donald is literally lifted up by a flame from the basement and batted through an upstairs window, while Goofy’s approach through the front door is met by a smoke cloud that transforms into a boxer and punches him back out into the front yard. Similarly, when Mickey mans a fire hose at the top of a ladder, flames quickly reach out and close the window he has positioned himself in front of.

The cartoon is an incredibly kinetic tour de force of pratfalls and gags with nary a slow or subdued moment. Among its many, many high points:

Donald wages war with a small army of flame gremlins. His tactics include scooping them up and depositing them in a goldfish bowl, and doing the probable impossible of neutralizing them with fly paper.

They in turn taunt Donald by dancing on piano keys to the tune of Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, and in a clever bit, literally take the floor out from underneath him.

Mickey dramatically wrestles with an out of control fire hose, that hilariously breaks the fourth wall when the film’s non-existent movie camera is doused in the process.

And Goofy’s misguided attempts to rescue furniture and valuables are lampooned when the items are ultimately and ironically incinerated in the fire engine’s boiler.

The action climaxes in the uproarious bathtub rescue that culminates in a crazy wack-a-mole exchange between Clarabelle Cow and our trio of heroes.

Every frame of Mickey’s Fire Brigade brims over with activity and attention to details. Director Ben Sharpsteen and his crew took no shortcuts; there are no static representations of fire anywhere in the film. Most notable in this regard--while Clarabelle performs her bathtub serenade, a small window nearby reveals the smoke and flames she is so blissfully ignorant of. It demonstrates the extra mile Disney animators were willing to go to have their product stand apart from all others.

It would be remiss to not mention the short’s wonderful watercolor backgrounds that were done such great justice by the aforementioned advance into Technicolor. Beautifully realized, these efforts would be a hallmark of much of the studio’s production during the late 1930s and foreshadow the later similar achievements in background painting that distinguished the likes of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pinocchio.

Even in the fast paced arena of golden age cartoons, Mickey’s Fire Brigade is layered with a creative brilliance and possesses a frantic energy that is nearly unsurpassed. It is a rollercoaster ride of classic animation that clearly represents the collective genius that was residing at the time at 2719 Hyperion Avenue.

Images © Walt Disney Company

Studio Geo: Lightning in a Bottle - 2719 Hyperion

Walt Disney began his career as a filmmaker in January of 1920 when he took a job making animated advertisements for the Kansas City Film Ad Company. It was the beginning of a journey that would take a struggling young artist and entrepreneur and eventually mold him into one of the most celebrated icons of 20th century popular culture. The historical map of that journey is an extraordinary one.

Welcome to Studio Geo.  These are the places where Walt Disney created his moving pictures:

The Walt Disney Studios - 2719 Hyperion Avenue

Flushed with the success of the Alice Comedies, Walt and Roy decided it was time to move beyond their very confined quarters on Kingswell Avenue. In July of 1925, they placed a deposit on a vacant tract of land in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles, a mile or so away from 4649 Kingswell Avenue. Construction on a studio building was completed in early 1926, and the Disney Brothers Studio relocated to its new address at 2719 Hyperion Avenue. The operation also had a new name: the Walt Disney Studios. Ironically, it was Roy who suggested the change, noting that since Walt was the creative force in the partnership, it was his name that deserved the studio moniker.

During the studios' earliest of years, the area surrounding 2719 Hyperion Avenue was a generally quiet, empty place. Disney veteran Ben Sharpsteen remembered visiting for the first time in 1929: "I walked through what was mainly a residential development, a section of town which had been laid out with streets and curbs, but which had very few homes at the time. It was late March and the grass and weeds were very tall and they were growing up through the sidewalk in places. It was not a street that was very much used at the time."

In the decade that followed, the studio grew, in what many observers described as an almost organic expansion. Existing buildings were expanded and extended; nearby buildings were absorbed and additional facilities emerged on the opposite side of Hyperion Avenue. The Disney Annex was added to the studio sometime around 1936. Disney desperately needed more artists at this time due to the production demands of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and it was in the Annex that aspiring artists were typically given tryout periods to prove their talent and skills, working mainly as in-betweeners under the watchful and often harsh supervision of studio manager George Drake. Part of the training process also involved art classes taught by Don Graham.

By the late 1930s, the studio was literally bursting at the seams. A nearby apartment building was appropriated and became the home of the Story Department. Artists preparing Bambi were located several miles away in rented offices in Hollywood. Plans to further expand the Hyperion Avenue location ultimately proved unrealistic and Walt and Roy began considering ideas for a brand new studio complex.

It is near impossible to overstate the importance and significance of the Hyperion Avenue Studios. In just a little over a dozen years, Disney-produced films moved from the gag-driven antics and primitive rubber-hose drawings of the silent Alice Comedies and Oswald the Rabbit cartoons to the story-centric and visually stunning animation demonstrated in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pinocchio. It was a spectacular, and in many ways, miraculous evolution. In later years, numerous studio veterans would fondly reminisce of 2719 Hyperion and the creative energy and dynamic atmosphere that was contained within its myriad of jumbled buildings and constrained work spaces.

No remnant or relic of the Walt Disney Studios remains at the Hyperion Avenue location. A number of its buildings and components were actually moved to the studio's new Burbank location, most notably the Publicity and Comic Strip bungalow. The fate of its iconic rooftop sign that identified 2719 Hyperion as the home of Mickey Mouse and the Silly Symphonies is sadly unknown. Affixed to a nearby light pole is The City of Los Angeles Cultural Heritage Board Monument No. 163 which reads:

Point of Historical Interest

Site of Walt Disney's original

Animation studio in Los Angeles

2719 Hyperion Avenue

1926 -1940

A supermarket now occupies the area. History and memories supplanted by produce, canned goods, cigarettes and shopping carts.

Explore the 2719 Hyperion Archives:

Studio Geo Part 1: Kansas City and the Laugh-O-Grams

Studio Geo Part 2: Kingswell and the Disney Brothers Studio

Runaway Brain - August 11, 1995

It’s been a dozen years since the happy anomaly that is Runaway Brain debuted in theaters alongside the now forgotten feature film A Kid in King Arthur’s Court. This cartoon emerged over forty years after the studio produced its last traditional format Mickey Mouse cartoon short, The Simple Things, in 1953. It is a dynamic, hip and fun seven minutes of animation, very much awash in 1990s popular culture, yet still thankfully grounded in the creative sensibilities of the Hyperion Avenue era of Disney production.

While Disney did not completely abandon Mickey Mouse cartoons during the decades following The Simple Things, the two efforts that preceded Runaway Brain, Mickey’s Christmas Carol and The Prince and the Pauper, were longer form literary adaptations and somewhat removed from the more traditional cartoon short format. Runaway Brain returned Mickey to the classic time and pace of a one reel short subject, the very type of animated entertainment he pioneered some sixty years earlier.

From its opening frames however, there is no mistaking Runaway Brain’s modern age pedigree. After its King Kong-esque opening title is quickly clawed into tatters, the audience is met with a joystick-wielding Mickey totally immersed in a Mortal Kombat style video game based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Minnie arrives for an anniversary date and is quickly put off by Mickey’s inattention. Mickey tries to make a amends but digs himself even deeper when Minnie mixes up newspaper ads and misinterprets 18 holes of mini golf for an 18-day Hawaiian cruise.
Desperately in need of a $1000 windfall, Mickey follows a want ad to the laboratory of simian mad scientist Dr. Frankenollie, whose devious plan is to do a brain swap between the mouse and his monstrous lab assistant Julius. Frankenollie features, albeit briefly, the voice talents of Kelsey Grammer, while Julius is in fact portrayed by Disney career villian Pete, whose peg leg was returned after a fairly extended PC-related sabbatical. Brains are switched, the good doctor is incinerated, and the short plunges into a frantic paced tour de force of action and heroics with a rough and tumble cityscape atmosphere more akin to recent Spiderman flicks than to traditional Mickey Mouse adventures.

But Runaway Brain is not as disconnected from Mickey’s cartoon heritage as one might think. Scratch below it’s video game, surf shop and other contemporary trappings and you have a short produced from very much the same disciplines behind Disney’s earlier short subject cartoons. The brain exchange that takes place between Mickey and Julius is an especially notable achievement in character animation and a credit to Andreas Dejas and his team; it effectively transplants Mickey’s personality into the monstrous Julius, and likewise turns a long standing corporate icon into a raving psychopath. In addition, director Chris Bailey was not afraid to move his non-existent camera around and approach shots from wholly unorthodox angles, as demonstrated by the sequence where a Julius-possessed Mickey scampers up through the laboratory’s pipes and conduits to dramatically emerge before the city skyline. Early Disney animators used similar “camera moving” techniques as far back as the early 1930s.

More than anything, Runaway Brain is a successful creative marriage of the Mouse’s very early and certainly less inhibited black and white efforts with the later Technicolor productions that featured a much more benign Mickey but were rich in style and layered upon lush, detailed backgrounds.

While the occasional pundit has made note of this uncharacteristic approach to Mickey and has even speculated that that is why it has been largely unseen in the years since its release, its darker and wilder dynamic is not unprecedented. Mickey explored similar avenues in early cartoons such as The Haunted House, The Gorilla Mystery and The Mad Doctor, just to name a few. Dr. Frankenollie’s lab is an obvious throwback to Universal’s classic monster films, but no doubt also received some inspiration from Mickey’s similarly styled 1937 cartoon The Worm Turns.

Runaway Brain’s unconventional nature was also likely influenced by the trio of Roger Rabbit cartoons that preceded it during the early 1990s. That is especially evidenced by the number of inside jokes its creators slipped into the film. While references to The Exorcist, veteran Disney animators Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, and even a regurgitated Zazu are relatively obvious, it takes a keener eye to spot the newspaper homage to Clarisse, the torch-singing counterpart to Chip and Dale in the 1951 short Two Chips and a Miss. The monster’s name Julius is a possible reference to one of Pete’s earliest of co-stars, a cat character from the pre-Mickey series of Alice comedies. And it appears that Mickey must be a Trekkie of sorts, as a model of the Starship Enterprise can be seen in a corner of his living room.

Preschooler moms beware--this is not your standard toddler-friendly Mickey Mouse cartoon. Hence its inclusion on a Disney Treasures DVD rather than in the more inclusive Cartoon Classics line. Modern audiences may be jarred somewhat by its darker, irreverent tone, but most animation buffs would likely view Runaway Brain as a return to Mickey’s earlier, often times impudent, sometimes scary, and definitely more uninhibited, black and white years.

Images © Walt Disney Company