Week 5

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) & Fantasia (1940)

We’re back from Disney World! We had a great trip, but it was too short. And the return to single-digit and below-zero temps has been tough. I imagine I’ll be revisiting a few more Disney animated films in the coming weeks as I transition back into the real (and chilly) world. For now, though, let’s talk about these two.

Snow White and Fantasia were released just three years apart. They were Disney’s first and third full-length animated features (although Fantasia isn’t entirely animated, as there are live-action sequences, too). They rank as numbers 49 and 58 on the AFI list, which feels about right—but more on that in a minute. Both are stunning achievements from a technical standpoint. The art and animation is top notch and rich in detail. The sequence in which Snow White flees the huntsmen is thrilling and complex. And Fantasia is filled with striking elements, not just in the animation. Even the conductor/orchestra footage is creatively lighted and filmed. These films are over 70 years old, but they hold up visually. 

I’d forgotten that most of Snow White takes place in about a day. I’d also forgotten how silly some of it was (in a good way) once the Dwarfs show up. It’s darker than I remember, too—with the huntsman who is sent not only to kill Snow White, but to cut out her heart, and the vain queen who not only tries to kill her stepdaughter (repeatedly) but dies her own violent death while trying to crush the Dwarfs under a bolder. Disney films certainly aren’t as grim as their Grimm source material, but the earliest entirely aren’t sunny, either.

Fantasia, too, can be quite dark. I’d forgotten about the final sequence, which includes Night on Bald Mountain. If you didn’t watch the whole film this week, at least check out this scene. Quite frightening. Fortunately it’s followed immediately by the finale, which (I think) is the most beautiful sequence in the film: a candlelight processional drifting through a tall-treed forest, transforming it into a sort of grand cathedral, while Stokowski leads the orchestra in Ave Maria. Look that one up, too!
 

As much as I enjoy them, I think both films suffer a bit when it comes to pacing—at least by contemporary standards. With Snow White, I feel the first half of the film (except for the huntsmen-fleeing sequence) drags on, but it picks up when the Drawfs enter (and the queen re-enters) the story. Fantasia starts and ends strong, but loses me some in the middle.

I understand why Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Fantasia are on this list, and I’m glad they are. They’re excellent, ground-breaking films. But perhaps my true qualm with both of them has less to do with the films themselves and more to do with the AFI list—namely, which Disney film didn’t make the cut.

Pinocchio, which is Disney’s second animated film (released between these two films, also in 1940) is quite possibly Disney’s greatest animated film—certainly during Walt Disney’s lifetime, but perhaps even beyond. And I think what Pinocchio has that Snow White and Fantasia lack is a strong emotional center. It’s a fantastic story told on a grand scale, but the characters are intimately drawn and the stakes are palpable. It’s a moving film that happens to also be imaginative, visually striking, and consistently entertaining. 

And this is the problem with lists like these (and any other number of subjective rankings or awards)--consensus often means removing the lowest lows as well as the highest highs from consideration and awarding films that are perceived as being deserving (for some technical achievement, etc.). Again, I want to stress that Snow White and Fantasia deserve to be on this list, but I suspect other (perhaps even more) deserving films (like Pinocchio) are left off, since the obligatory Disney films were already represented.

What do you think of Snow White and Fantasia? Do you have another favorite Disney film you’d like to make a case for? Chime in!