THE BEST DISNEY SCORES

With its Academy Award nomination for Best Song, Moana is now the 20th Disney animated movie to receive such recognition.  For the occasion, I am offering my own choices for the best animated Disney scores.

For the sake of relative brevity, I have limited this list to films that have at least four original songs.  (While this excludes Oscar nominees Saludos Amigos and The Emperor’s New Groove, the most regrettable losses are The Three Caballeros, Lilo & Stitch, and The Great Mouse Detective.)  Furthermore, I am taking the Siskel & Ebert approach and providing observations about certain entries rather than covering all of them.


1. Beauty and the Beast
What more can be said about the score that helped Beauty and the Beast become the first animated Best Picture nominee and launched Disney’s Broadway enterprise?  Howard Ashman and Alan Menken’s songs are simply magnificent.  The one quibble I’ve ever had is perhaps the lyrics are too sophisticated for provincial villagers (like when one woman thinks the Beast is “set to sacrifice our children to his monstrous appetite” in “The Mob Song”).  Still, if not for Mary Poppins, I would not hesitate to call this the best score in any animated or live-action Disney movie.
My favorite song: “Belle”

2. The Little Mermaid
The Little Mermaid is a remarkably fleet-footed movie, and the score is an extension of that.  Only one scene and song in the whole film (the “Les Poissons” number) can be argued as being arbitrary.  Everything else is shaved down to the essentials without ever feeling rushed or underdone.  One interesting side effect is how the score has two false starts.  We get a short sea shanty (“Fathoms Below”) and an interrupted concert performance (“Daughters of Triton”) before we arrive at the big production numbers.  It suggests the creators were aware this was Disney Animation’s first large-scale musical since The Jungle Book and they wanted to build up how much of an event this movie was.
My favorite song: “Under the Sea”

3. The Hunchback of Notre Dame
This movie is one rare occasion in the Disney canon where the creators aimed for creating a great musical instead of just a great Disney musical.  In no other film could Disney reach the spiritual power of songs like “God Help the Outcasts”, “Heaven’s Light”, and “Hellfire” in addition to the musical theatre splendor of numbers like “The Bells of Notre Dame” and “Out There”.
My favorite song: It changes every time.  Today, it's "Out There".

4. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
For my money, this is one of the most romantic scores ever written for a Hollywood musical.  It’s near impossible not to get swept up in the playful grandeur of songs like “I’m Wishing”, “One Song”, and “Someday My Prince Will Come”.

5. Dumbo
Dumbo has more emotional potency in 64 minutes than most live-action movies have in two hours.  A significant part of this comes from the music.  The songs hit precisely the right emotional beats, accentuating each moment of humor (“When I See an Elephant Fly”), intensity (“Pink Elephants on Parade”), and love (“Baby Mine”).
My favorite song: “Baby Mine”

6. Aladdin
When you split the Aladdin score between the Howard Ashman songs and the Tim Rice songs, they feel both opposing and compatible.  While Rice tries to match Ashman’s wordplay, he does not aim for the same sense of time and location.  “Friend Like Me” and “Prince Ali” could only happen in an Arabian Nights sort of setting like this, but the lyrics in “A Whole New World” are nondescriptly romantic enough that it would not take much effort to make the song work for another fantasy story.  And yet, because the most verbal songs come from the Genie and the more emotional songs come from Aladdin, the divergence works in the story’s favor.
My favorite song: “Friend Like Me”

7. The Princess and the Frog
The proverbial gumbo the creators set out to make this movie is best expressed through the score.  So many different styles of music mesh together into a lively whole, from jazz (street jazz in “When We’re Human” and upscale jazz in “Almost There”) to African rhythms (“Friends on the Other Side”) to zydeco (“Gonna Take You There”) and gospel (“Dig a Little Deeper”).

8. The Jungle Book
My favorite song: “I Wanna Be Like You”

9. Bambi
My favorite song: “Little April Shower”

10. Pinocchio

11. Lady and the Tramp
My favorite song: “Bella Notte”

12. Pocahontas

13. Cinderella
There is hardly a more delightful phrase in any Disney song than when the Fairy Godmother claims Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo is “the thingamabob that does the job.”
My favorite song: “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”

14. The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad
I’ve talked about “The Headless Horseman” before, but I still believe such tremendous villain songs as “Poor Unfortunate Souls” and “Friends on the Other Side” are indebted to this song’s alternating moods of jubilation & dread and the imposing theatricality of its staging.
My favorite song: “The Headless Horseman”

15. Moana
My favorite song: “You’re Welcome”

16. The Lion King
My favorite song: “Be Prepared”

17. Tarzan
My favorite song: “Strangers Like Me”

18. Sleeping Beauty
My favorite song: “Once Upon a Dream”

19. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh
My favorite song: “Winnie the Pooh”

20. The Sword in the Stone
With its reliance on gags over story, The Sword in the Stone is clearly the animated film that had the least amount of Walt Disney’s attention.  The songs by Richard and Robert Sherman are where the film tries its hardest to focus on the core aspect of Merlin educating Wart.  Songs like “That’s What Makes the World Go Round” and “A Most Befuddling Thing” are where you feel Merlin is imparting knowledge that will help Wart when he becomes King Arthur.
My favorite song: “Higitus Figitus”

21. Hercules

22. The Aristocats
While these songs are enjoyable, they are indicative of how Disney moved away from relying on music as a storytelling device after Walt Disney’s death.  Only “Thomas O’Malley Cat”, the introduction for the male lead, really does anything to establish character or keep the story moving.  For an enlightening comparison, pick up the Aristocats album in Walt Disney Records’ Legacy Collection.  The deleted songs by Richard and Robert Sherman suggest a version of this movie where music plays a more constructive role.
My favorite song: “Thomas O’Malley Cat”

23. Peter Pan

24. The Rescuers

25. Alice in Wonderland
Without counting reprises, Alice in Wonderland has 14 songs, the most of any Disney animated film.  Most of them are only seconds long.

26. Winnie the Pooh
My favorite song: “The Backson Song”

27. Tangled
My favorite song: “I’ve Got a Dream”

28. Mulan

29. Frozen

30. Home on the Range

31. Robin Hood

32. Melody Time

33. Oliver & Company
My favorite song: “Why Should I Worry?”

34. Make Mine Music

35. The Fox and the Hound
My favorite song: “Best of Friends”

36. Brother Bear
My favorite song: “Great Spirits”

37. Fun and Fancy Free
Of all the films on this list, Fun and Fancy Free is the one where the songs feel the most like padding and/or window dressing.

I apologize for the barrenness of this second half, but sorting the mediocre scores was hard enough.



The Fantasia image is from DisneyScreencaps.com

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER


I have no idea how or what to write about Avatar:The Last Airbender.  That shows how much I adore this series.

I feel compelled to write something about it since today is the tenth anniversary of the show’s premiere on Nickelodeon, a fact that has startled me more than last fall’s tenth anniversary of my own high school freshman year.  (I wager the upcoming decennial of my beginning college will also be a lesser shock.)  Avatar reshaped my idea of what television could be over the course of its 2005-2008 run, and it has become my personal favorite TV series.

And it absolutely floors and delights me that my engagement in it was entirely accidental.


I barely knew about it for the first few months of its run, and from the occasional commercial or brief glimpse while channel-hopping, I assumed it was some straight-laced anime rip-off without the parody and/or satire of something like Teen Titans.  I finally gave it a chance during a bout of laziness, and if memory serves correctly, that episode was “Imprisoned,” which snared me with its intriguing characters and some sublimely silly humor.

(This became the first of several lessons I learned from the show: never underestimate the value of boredom.)

The more I watched the series, the more apparent it became that I had not seen anything like it before on TV.  As a kid, I was aware of darker or serialized animated shows like Batman and Gargoyles, but they did not hold my interest the way zippy comedies like Rocko’s Modern Life did.  When Avatar began, I was finally starting to get into shows with real continuity, albeit ones that were only intermittently serialized like Kim Possible and Danny PhantomAvatar was the first time I watched a show that was explicitly based on developing one story over the course of multiple seasons.  It is a show where only one or two episodes out of 61 can be argued as doing nothing to broaden the story’s world and its conflicts or to further our understanding of the characters.


Michael Dante DiMartino & Bryan Konietzko’s Avatar is set in a world where people can control the elements of water, earth, fire and air, and four nations exist based around their own element.  One person, called the Avatar, is able to control all four elements, but after his mysterious disappearance, the Fire Nation begins a war with the other nations that lasts for 100 years.  The Avatar returns in the form of Aang, a Airbending pacifist who must master the elements and defeat the Fire Nation before they secure their final victory.

When you see the early episodes of a series after watching the show through to completion, there is an inevitable moment where you realize just how inexperienced the characters are compared to what they will soon go through.  Avatar provokes that feeling in me much more strongly than any other show.  The characters’ evolution is so rich and multidimensional that I never fail to feel astonished when I am reminded of where they begin.


After the prologue in the first episode, “The Boy in the Iceberg,” our first view of the heroes is of the Water Tribe siblings Sokka and Katara as they fish in the middle of the South Pole.  Sokka is nothing more here than a wannabe warrior and Katara is barely self-trained in Waterbending.  There is nothing here to suggest that Sokka will become a great strategist or that Katara will be one of the most awesome fighters in the whole series.


A few minutes later, after the siblings unwittingly find the iceberg containing Aang’s frozen body, we first see Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, the show’s beginning villain.  He sees the light emanating from the iceberg and believes it to be the Avatar.  He thinks finding the Avatar is the path to his destiny.  We repeat viewers know it is, but not in any of the ways he expects it to be.  None of these three characters has any idea of what’s coming, and it makes us excited to once again experience the surprising, heartbreaking and liberating events in store for them.

Alongside the marvelous art direction and the authentic use of martial arts & Eastern philosophies, the greatest of this series’ riches is the characters.  In addition to being funny and providing pleasant company, each has a set of flaws and contradictions that make them dramatically involving and lovably relatable.  Katara’s maternal strength is so comforting that it becomes gripping when certain crises drive her toward her least mature instincts.  Zuko’s uncle Iroh has all the wisdom of a stock mentor figure, but even he is prone to hilariously poor judgment.  These characters are equally capable of great drama and great humor.  In fact, while most other shows feature only a couple of characters I wish I could meet, Avatar supplies me with at least a dozen.


If there are characters I would not want to meet, it would likely be because they are among the most effective villains ever created for family television.  Chief among them is Princess Azula, Zuko’s sister and the main villain of Season Two.  Prior to this series, only Dolores Umbridge from the Harry Potter books inspired anything close to the hatred I felt over her.  Picture Joffrey from Game of Thrones with military intelligence and prodigious combat skills.  You would have Azula, who is about as smug, cruel, manipulative, xenophobic, ambitious, and dangerous a villain as you can imagine.  Watching Azula in her horrible prime is the only thing I don’t look forward to whenever I revisit this show.

But you know what?  No matter how much I want to see her get her comeuppance, the way it finally happens always makes me feel sorry for her.  That also happens to me with a few other villains throughout the story.  They are allowed to do utterly vile things, but they are also given plenty of groundwork to let viewers understand why they are what they are.  Sometimes they even behave more admirably than the heroes.  DiMartino & Konietzko did not ration out their empathy with the characters, and it shows in how these villains can provoke both scorn and compassion.

This attitude toward the characters is an extension of one of the series’ fundamental lessons.  The conflict I've described sounds like one of good vs. evil, but events and characters reveal it to be more complicated than that.  The Fire Nation aims to control the world, yet it is shown to be more open-minded than other parts of the globe.  The Earth Kingdom is the force that stands a chance at beating the Firebenders, but many of its citizens are opportunists who either use the war to strengthen their own power or seek the most desperate and treacherous ways to secure any victory.  The Avatar can be seen as a symbol of hope for the Fire Nation as well as for the peoples being oppressed.  Avatar commits to the message that neither side of any conflict is exclusively right or wrong.  As far as I know, this was the first piece of media I saw to firmly express it, and I think it does so better than many adult-oriented war stories.


To paraphrase Uncle Iroh (my favorite character), it is the combination of the big and the subtle that makes Avatar so powerful to me.  Learning about the different nations through their fighting styles is absolutely thrilling, but it’s just as affecting to pause and hear Iroh sing one of this world’s folk songs.  Character touches that are almost unnoticeable (Aang and Azula speak to each other in only two of their six encounters, which clues us in to who her real nemesis is) are no less strong than the ones we recognize immediately (Zuko’s sense of humor improving over the final ten episodes).  Learning the tragedy of a character’s past can be more shattering than any defeat in combat.  Avatar finds the perfect balance between huge & exciting and delicate & introspective.

For better or worse, Avatar has changed my outlook on entertainment, particularly television.  The story’s optimism and relatively gentle humor helped make me less responsive to dark and cynical material, both new (Archer and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) and old (certain episodes of Seinfeld and The Simpsons are harder for me to watch now than they were years ago).  The satisfaction of seeing things from earlier episodes pay off reopened me to the exhilaration of serialized storytelling and led me back to those shows I brushed off in my youth.

Perhaps its largest imprint is the way I prioritize character when evaluating a TV show.  When you devote hours or days to a trip, a work project, or even just hanging out, you want to be sure the person going with you is somebody you get along with well.  I feel the same way about watching a TV show.  A series could consume my attention for weeks, and I would generally rather spend that much time watching characters I empathize with rather than ones I am supposed to observe and remain detached from (the House of Cards cast, for instance).  Watching the Avatar characters felt like gaining new friends and supporting them through their successes and failures, and the bulk of my post-Avatar TV experience has consisted of trying to relive that same wonderful feeling.


That feeling never dimmed once in the ten years I have loved Avatar: The Last Airbender.  It pervades me during the greatest war victories and the most intimate conversations.  The series has given me uproarious entertainment, awe-inspiring spectacle, stimulating philosophy and comforting humanity.  It remains in a class above all I watched before it and all I have watched since.


All screencaps are from AvatarSpirit.net.

THE SWAN PRINCESS (1994)


Several acclaimed and popular movies turned twenty this year, and each bears significance to at least one person in this world.  While I am thankful for 1994 movies like Pulp Fiction, The Lion King, and Ed Wood, one less-than-acclaimed film, whose anniversary is today, has been on my mind quite a lot recently.  It’s Richard Rich’s The Swan Princess, a film whose appeal somehow stayed with me despite two decades of maturation and a much more expansive view of animation’s capabilities.

NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL 2011



I wish I could say I saw all of the movies featured in that trailer. School, alas, prevented me from doing so, but at least I did squeeze some good ones into my schedule. Here, in order of when I saw them, are the movies I watched at the 49th New York Film Festival.

Melancholia – R
Lars von Trier writes and directs this eerie story about the end of two worlds. The first collapse is an intangible one, of a bride (a moving Kirsten Dunst) losing her mind over the course of a disastrous wedding reception. The second and better half shows the bride, her sister (a wonderful Charlotte Gainsbourg) and her brother-in-law (a potent Kiefer Sutherland) witnessing the imminent collision of Earth with the planet Melancholia, brought to life through simple yet entrancing special effects. The uniformly superb cast successfully maintains von Trier’s sad and gloomy tone even in the film’s more jovial moments. From its artful opening montage to its beautifully terrifying final shot, Melancholia works very well as both science fiction and as a personal drama.
This review was originally published by The Fordham Observer.

A Separation – PG-13
When an Iranian couple (Peyman Moadi and Leila Hatami) divorces, the husband hires a woman (Sareh Bayat) to help care for his father (Ali-Asghar Shahbazi), who is stricken with Alzheimer’s. A terrible incident sparks an endless parade of accusations and revelations that turns employee against employer, spouses against spouses and children against parents. Asghar Farhadi’s deeply involving drama withholds many details in this affair to let each viewer debate the facts long after the movie ends. This film is subtly tense, deftly puzzling and tenderly human, creating an impartial mystery in which even characters who do not appear deserving of sympathy earn it.

Miss Bala – R
Gerado Naranjo has fashioned a genuinely exciting action film about a beauty pageant contestant who is forced into the world of Mexican drug trafficking. Every single scene is told from her perspective, which works thanks to Stephanie Sigman’s appealing performance. Naranjo uses long takes throughout the film to build an impressive amount of suspense. One major shortcoming is the escalating sexual advances the gang leader (Miguel Couturier) makes on the girl. These scenes are distracting and somewhat plodding, adding little to her already humiliating situation. The film is much more stirring when it focuses on the girl acting alone as hostage and forced accomplice.

My Week with Marilyn – R
Simon Curtis’s My Week with Marilyn is a biopic whose adoration for its subject, Marilyn Monroe, is so strong it renders the film a little insufferable. Set during the production of The Prince and the Showgirl (1957), it has so many moments that exclaim, “Wow, what a beautiful and tragic star she was” that there are too few introspective scenes. Michelle Williams gives a fine performance as Monroe, but the real treat is Kenneth Branagh’s highly entertaining take on Sir Lawrence Olivier. The actors are good enough to warrant a slight recommendation, but if you want a real tribute to Monroe’s talents, just watch Some Like It Hot (1959) if you haven’t seen it before (or lately).

Goodbye First Love – NR
Mia Hansen-Løve’s story of a young French girl’s loss of her first love and how she moves on with a new one is the only movie I saw this year that I would unreservedly say is bad. It is full of dull, mopey characters whose self-centered demeanors failed to earn any of my sympathy; I suppose it may have been Hansen-Løve’s point to paint a picture of how childish first love can be, but painting a picture so thoroughly sullen does not build solid interest. As I watched the movie, there were times when I would much rather have followed the horses in the background than spend any more energy focusing on the drab humans.

The Descendants – R
In Alexander Payne’s first film since Sideways (2004), George Clooney plays a father who must reconcile with his family after his wife goes comatose in a boating accident. This is Clooney’s best performance since Michael Clayton (2007), mixing frustration and heartbreak with a despairing hope that things will get better. The rest of the movie does not match up, for it fails to integrate drama and comedy into a cohesive whole. While the comedy in Sideways is an extension of the drama, the jokes in The Descendants feel more like bald, inorganic relief from the surrounding sadness. The overall film is competent yet uneven, but Clooney makes it absolutely worth seeing.

THE MILL AND THE CROSS - Not Rated



Lech Majewski’s The Mill and the Cross is a good movie that falls aggravatingly short of excellence. The film, which opens at Film Forum on Sept. 14, shows us riveting visuals as it ponders the source of artistic inspiration. Two recurring and vexing flaws spoil the atmosphere and ultimately hinder what should have been a lovely piece of work.

THE LION KING Rereleased in 3-D: One Dimension Too Many?



This weekend, Disney’s The Lion King returned to theaters for a two-week 3-D engagement. This release is the latest in a small trend of 3-D reissues that began five years ago with Disney’s reissue of The Nightmare Before Christmas. Beloved films that have not been seen in theaters for years are being converted into 3-D prints for theatrical exhibition. While this is still an evolving practice, one should consider whether it should be happening at all. Are 3-D reissues spoiling classic movies, or are they a modern outlet for seeing notable older films in theaters again?

SUMMER 2011 IN REVIEW

Now that the summer movie season is in its last week, I'm going to reflect a bit on the highs and lows of this year's crop. Since I was not writing for a newspaper this summer, I did not see as many summer movies as I have previously. This list marks selected movies I did see (in current order of preference) with annotations of their particular achievements. The only movie I excluded, Crazy, Stupid, Love., was not bad, but it did not have anything too distinctive.