Where Has All the Cool Gone?

Like most people my age, I first knew Louis Prima not as a Las Vegas lounge act, or as a big band leader, but as a monkey.

King of the Swingers

Image (c) Disney

When Prima was cast as the voice of King Louis in The Jungle Book, he probably didn't count on generations of kids associating his smooth, hep cat voice and improvisional stylings with an overweight orangutan. Today, that's probably how most people know him, singing that Ooobee Doo, I Wanna Be Like You-oo-ooo.

Of course, if you go looking for Louis Prima the man, you'll find one of the most refreshingly cool performers of all time, ever.

Prima was billed as "The Wildest." Along with his buddy Sam Butera, their band, The Witnesses, and his fourth wife, Keely Smith, Louis defined Las Vegas entertainment in the fifties. While Sinatra and the Rat Pack were performing their antics at the Sands, Prima was knocking them dead in the lounge at the Sahara.

It's a shame that there isn't the kind of cool today that Louis Prima created for his audiences forty years ago. Sadder still is that there are so few of his performances available for those who go looking.

Louis Prima was famous for singing "I'm Just a Gigilo." And for as fun as that little number can be, I've never regarded it as the throwaway that David Lee Roth tried to spin it into years later. There's a little bit of sadness and a little bit of truth in those lines:

When the end comes I know, they'll say 'Just a Gigilo.'

Life goes on without me.

We're all just hustlers, looking to get paid for our own little dance. Best we can do is do it like Louis. Classy and cool.

A Really, Really GOOD Film

So, I finally got around to seeing Disney’s latest animated feature The Princess and the Frog.

image (c) Disney

Let me start off by pointing out that it is January 10th. I am an acknowledged Disney fan (or in Katzenberg-speak, a “Disnoid”). I have two kids, 5 and 4. And I had more than a week off between Christmas and New Year. And here I am, seeing this major release, almost a month after it opened wide.

Why is that? Well, all sorts of reasons. Perhaps the biggest: my kids didn’t want to see it. Let me restate that: my 5 year old son and my 4 year old son didn’t want to see the latest Disney feature because “a princess movie is a girl movie.”

I never thought I would be the dad whose sons would be so impressionable by gender role hogwash that they would actively reject something on the grounds it was girly. And for years I thought I’d succeeded. My boys have no problems doing the whole pretend play in a kitchen, or hanging out with girls their age and playing dolls, etc. They even dress up as women and make naïve, sometimes uncomfortable, commentary on breast feeding and the like.

But for these little dudes, a princess cartoon crosses the line. Further thoughts on that later. Here’s my take on The Princess and the Frog:

I thought this was a really, really good movie. Great? Not so much…but really, really good.

The story is a fun concoction, with what feels like a fresh setting—New Orleans set in some non-specific, old timey, jazz age that seems like it should have happened. The principal characters are on the money, including a plucky, working-class heroine, a vain prince with a heart of gold, and a conniving bad guy with supernatural talents. And the plotline is a classic fairy tale thread with just enough of a twist to add a sense of clever freshness.

The songs are vibrant and move the plot. And the animation is, truly, top notch. So why is this just a really, really good movie?

Well, in the end, and in spite of all its originality, this flick feels like it is just going over familiar ground. The design of the movie feels too much like so many other animated films, that sort of early 1950’s Disney animation with the 1990’s Ashman-Menkin Broadway style layered on top. Everything feels a little too cute and too rendered and too similar to stuff I have seen before.

Added to that is the structure of the thing, which is the same three act plotting, the same pacing with the requisite “yearning moment” and the “quiet moment of realization” and the “fast paced chase” that culminates in the villain’s demise. Oh yeah, and the same awkward exposition used to transition between musical set pieces and add narrative points overlooked by the songwriters.

But, in spite all of that, this movie had its high points. Almost any screen time featuring the villain, Dr. Facilier, was delicious. As mentioned previously, the music breathed real life into the film. Likewise, the film’s New Orleans setting is often rendered as a glowing fantasyscape that this viewer wanted to get lost in, similar in some ways to the Italian village in Pinocchio.

And, surprisingly, I fell for many of the supporting characters. I would say the most surprising was Charlotte, the spoiled little princess wannabe (is this some commentary by Disney on what may be its biggest consumer base?), if not for the lightning bug Cajun stereotype, Ray. I love the little guy, in spite of the fact that I regarded him as an all-too-easy bit of a throwaway character; in the end, Ray buzzes right into the heart of this film.

Ray...seriously, this guy bugged me when he was first introduced. Image (c) Disney

So, what would have made this a better movie for me, a real Disney classic, perhaps? I can think of three things, at least:

1) Find a new design aesthetic. For far too long, hand-drawn Disney films have looked the same, and that’s really not a good thing. Visually, The Princess and the Frog is tired. It's design speaks to the 1990’s, not the second decade of the 21st Century. Today’s world is a virtual buffet of distinct graphic styles. Some are like nothing ever seen before. Others are contemporary homages to past (often lost) movements. The best offer some commentary on the time we live in.

And, for what it’s worth, this isn't an argument to change just for change's sake. Walt’s artists were constantly mixing up their design, in part to add new visual pep to their pics. Compare Bambi to Cinderella to One Hundred and One Dalmatians. Those films were made between 1942 to 1961. In that span of 19 years, you have everything from Bambi’s impressionism to Cinderella’s spare Mary Blair-influenced alternative to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to the very-Modernist approach to Dalmatians.

Now compare the Disney product from 1989 to 2009. What, really is different between the styling of The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, and The Princess and the Frog? Colors are more saturated (thanks, computer!) and, well, what else? Very, very little, at least from a general audience’s perspective.

2) Invest FULLY in music. For all of the early Disney innovations and trademarks in creating animated product, it’s too easily forgotten how much music influenced these films. Hell, every time I watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs I’m surprised how much of that film is set to verse. Characters used to move to a musical beat, action was staged against it.

So why does The Princess and the Frog toss all that aside and, transition out of these sparkling musical passages and into these exposition-filled, lead balloon scenes where so-and-so is explaining to whatsherface that Old Man blah-blah-blah will be king of the hoo-haw. Such forced, uninspired story-telling is beneath the better qualities of this films.

3) This is for the Marketing folks…PLAY UP THE DATE NIGHT ANGLE. Look, there’s a place for princess films. I’ll be the last person to say that just because little boys don’t like girls in gowns this company should abandon the princess flick. Hell, princesses are part of the DNA of the company (as well as one of its current revenue crack pipes).

But these things need to be events, like Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin were a decade and a half ago. Disney’s Marketing team needs to make a film like The Princess and the Frog the film to see with a squeeze on opening weekend.

And to support this, the Mouse should have added a little more sex to this flick. Not out and out doing it, but heat. The kind of heat that permeated films like Tarzan and Spider-man. Visceral freedom mixed with should-I-kiss-her anxiety. Face it, if you’ve found yourself splashing around in the water with someone attractive that you only kinda know, well, there’s a certain arousal there. Nothing wrong with playing that up a bit.

So...all that said, I can't wait to see The Princess and the Frog again. I hope it has a long life after it's theatrical run, and I really hope to run into Tiana and Dr. Facilier at Disneyland for years to come. Let's all hope this is a toe in the water for Disney Feature Animation and that the big splash is just lining up at the diving board!

WALL*E or The Movie Disney's Lawyers Forgot

I loved WALL*E. Saw it for the second time this past weekend.

(c) Disney

It is a gorgeous film. At times it is sublime. The first act is brilliant, ranks among the best animation I have ever seen.

After that, well, it's not that the film flags...it's more like it starts to get "important" or "relevant" but doesn't (or can't) actually get around to saying what's on it's mind. Loads of folks, from Frank Rich to The Lord Obama, are imposing their own super-smart reading onto this film...but I am not so sure the guys who made the movie really knew what to make of it.


That's really not a big beef...it is still a really enjoyable escape.

But I do have to ask WHAT WERE THEY THINKING when it comes to this scene:

WALL*E, the precocious garbage compactor with a mind of his own, has been busy for hundreds of years mashing trash in an effort to tidy up an Earth overrun with crud. Along the way, the android with a heart of gold has developed an affinity for old stuff that he finds and begins collecting this stuff in his shipping container-esque hovel. Its full of Rubik's Cubes, old silverware, and bobblehead toys. Think of the Little Mermaid and all her thingamabobs. Then think of some Ebay sicko. That's WALL*E.

THE DISTURBING PART comes when WALL*E meets EVE and attempts to court this strangely hot floating ipod. WALL*E shows EVE his junk (meaning the stuff he's collected in his little robo shack). Among the light bulbs and sporks, WALL*E finds one extra-special little toy to share...a lighter.

??? (c) Disney

That's right, a lighter. Those things that kids from 2-8 are already fascinated with. Those things that toddlers are notorious for getting their paws on and setting fire to their mama's mattress.

So, that's an appropriate thing for a Disney character to be playing with, showing off to his lady. Right?

The really confusing thing for me is that, I understand that there was some kind of metaphor or symbolism at work between "fire" and the weed that WALL*E discovers on the otherwise desolate Earth, but it was really tenuous. I didn't really get it.

Hopefully, no kids will see this tomfoolery and take it upon themselves to do some Polynesian fire dance with Daddy's Zippo. Even so, how in the heck did Disney's lawyers give this a pass?

Brighter indeed. The world will burn!

(c) Disney

What Are the Chances?

What are the chances that Surf's Up will walk away with the little gold man tonight? It was far from a perfect movie, but for that matter Ratatouille was far from perfect. I think it would be nice to see this--the best of the penguin movies--receive some cred.

My Backstory is Bigger than your Backstory

For any Disnoid who hasn't picked up The Disney Mountains by Jason Surrell, you owe it to yourself to do so. The binding is flimsy, but the content is decent.

Buy me new on Amazon for $14!

Once you read this thing, I'd like to hear your take on Joe Rohde and his ongoing prattle about every last bit of who-gives-a-crap that went into Expedition EVEREST. Don't get me wrong, I have a tremendous amount of respect for anyone who gets way beyond the nitty-gritty to create an attraction with heart. But if you are doing this in the name of STORY, well, how about first you make sure you have a story that makes sense.

What do I mean? Well, I am not talking about the obvious misdirection involved with the Everest angle...it makes no sense but, well--yeah it really doesn't make sense, does it?

No, I am talking about this bit of nonsensicalness:

1. You climb up this mountain on a train. The train is on tracks.


2. Suddenly, you discover the road ahead is blocked: the tracks are ripped up (presumably by a monkey-man)


3. Somehow you, in the train, go flying backward. As you are on a route you didn't come up on and there is no indication in the story that there is a switch, it appears that our storytellers are suggesting that the train is now off the tracks.


4. You, in the train, then see the shadow of the monkey-man. He is RIPPING UP TRACKS and now, somehow, you are back on the rails.

I know this sounds like quibbling, and it is. But it makes no sense.

It is also basic. This kind of flimsiness is apparent to more guests than the authenticity of some natural mineral-stain that could only be found in Tibet. If Disney can afford to spend millions on research trips/corporate vacations, why can't they spend a couple extra grand concocting a story that holds water?

How Does This Make Any Sense???

If you think this makes no sense, try piecing together Jim Hill's most recent story.

Ask me six or seven years ago and I would've told you that Jim Hill was my favorite Disnoid-writer in the whole wide Interweb. For reasons we won't bother with here, that changed, but I've always believed Jim was one of the gang--a Disney geek with enough of a head on his shoulders to be skeptical when required. If anything, I thought the guy was getting to be a little too rough on the Mouse following the Pixar purchase a couple of years back.

But then, what the heck is this story Jim "broke" on Friday?

Jim's purportedly got the inside scoop on WDW's 5th gate, whimsically referred to as Disney's Night Kingdom or DNK . And maybe he does--I'm not suggesting he's making things up. But look at what he's describing. First off, the title suggests that the Mouse is set "to reimagine the Disney-theme-park-going experience." And maybe the key word to appreciate in that phrase is the "Disney" modifier, because Jim then goes on to explain that this park is really just aping Sea World's Discovery Cove.

Read the specific experiences Hill is listing: rock climbing, spelunking, frolicing with penguins, zip lining over crocodiles, and--OH YEAH--eating gourmet meals and watching state-of-the-art stage shows. Huh? Jim's article just gives that randomness a pass.

But I think this is my favorite part of the whole story:

"I know, I know. A lot of you may have trouble wrapping your heads around a Disney theme park that's as distinctly different as DNK is going to be."

Yes, I am sure it is all the reader's fault, not being able to make sense out of this Frankensteined mess that's been described. Just as it was guests' fault for not appreciating the masterpiece that was Disney's California Adventure on opening day. At least the marketing department will be there to show us the way!

(deleted)

Who knows, if Disney decides to cook up this stew, they may just pull it off. But this is the same company that:

1. took nearly a decade to convince guests that a $750 million zoo was worth a visit.
2. is throwing in the towel and an extra billion dollars to pull DCA out of the ashes.
3. routinely scares guests with its Year of a Million Dreams-scheme.
4. marketed the Disney Institute big-time and then quietly euthanized it due to lack of interest.

Jim thinks the big question is whether his readers will shell out $250-$300 to visit this thing he's outlined. Yeah...THAT'S the big question alright.

For my part, I wonder what the heart of the place is, what's the big idea? Swimming with dolphins I get--it's what every kid who goes to Sea World dreams of...doing that in an island setting has a romance to it. But what is this "Night Kingdom?" It sounds like a downtown version of Medieval Times.

If Jim wants to ask his audience questions, how about asking what everyone thinks about Disney swiping a successful operating model from another park down the street?

Or, if Jim is really interested in how this park and your billfold might interact, how about finding out whether guests would prefer to spend their $300 bucks on "Night Kingdom" or Discovery Cove?

I firmly believe that mixing up the theme park model is necessary and that Discovery Cove is an indicator of what bold moves and great ideas--when paired together--can yield. There are so many more opportunities out there...especially when capacity can get dialed down. I sincerely hope Disney has that great new attraction in their grasp. If they do, Jim Hill's story did nothing to promote it.

Words of wisdom from Jay Rasulo

This just in from Jay Rasulo, Chairman of Walt Disney Parks & Resorts (courtesy The New York Times)

Photo (c) Disney

“Guests are pretty much no longer interested in being passive viewers,” Mr. Rasulo said.

First, a word of caution: Whoa, Jay-bird...that there's a pretty strongly worded phase! It has all the spine of overcooked linguini.

Second of all: WRONG! Many of your guests want nothing more than to be "passive viewers." Note to Jay: try visiting Pirates of the Caribbean at about 1pm on New Year's Eve. On my visit this year, the line was more than an hour long. BTW - when you're on that ride, all you do is sit on your butt.

Finally: If you really believe them words, how can you justify sinking millions and millions of dollars into a Nemo submarine ride (where you do nothing but sit on your butt and look out the window)? Or a Nemo show at DAK (where you do nothing but sit on your butt and watch some dancers get their exercise with a bunch of fish puppets)? Or ANOTHER Nemo ride at Epcot (where you sit on your butt in a fiberglass clam and watch a bunch of fish out a window)?

Someone please explain what J-Ro means by all this?

Wall-E

I really cannot wait for this. There's something so warm and simple in what's popped up so far on WALL-E.

In my dreams it's like Dumbo and Bambi had a baby, only instead of the result being some freakish big-eared deer with skin problems, limited speaking ability, and the powers of flight, its all those quiet moments from both films that maximize action in lieu of spoken words, strung together on a simple Dumbo-esque story thread.

Being that Pixar is involved, this thing has a 87.5% chance of being better than I expect (hey, I guess they had to make a film like Cars at some point).

Much better video can be found at the Disney.com site. Try this: http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/wall-e/

What Mickey Can't Do

The Huff-N-Puff from Sellner Manufacturing.

Learn more about them here: http://www.whirlin.com/kiddie_rides.html

Growing up as a kid, I believed there was nothing that Disney couldn't do. While there's still a soft spot in me that wants to believe that, time and experience have taught that the size and slickness you find at Disney, Universal, Busch, and the other big guns comes at a price. Take capacity for instance.

If you are a big park and you are expecting 15, 20, or 45 thousand people in your gate at any given moment, capacity is right up there with Jesus, Mary, and ammunition. Everyone who has been to a park and given the operation of the joint five minutes thought knows that. It's why the parks spring for big-budget rides like Pirates of the Caribbean. They can eat up the people. Get 'em in, get 'em through, get 'em out. The air conditioning doesn't hurt.

Most people avoid Dumbo, even Peter Pan's Flight, when the parks are crushed because the time invested isn't worth what you get from it.

In the name of efficiency, Disney has set a minimum threshold of acceptability. But consider what they deny themselves, and their guests. Quiet experiences. Self-guided experiences. Experiences with more than one front door. Experiences that offer more than a single, inherently obvious flow. Experiences that encourage high dwell time, repeatability, or non-traditional usage. Experiences that don't squash spontanaeity.

(Busch has knocked on this door a little with Discovery Cove, but for those who have visited the headline attraction--swimming with the dolphins--is a very regimented affair. Plus the dolphins will only let you get to second base.)

This is a theme we plan to explore here. If you have any thoughts, we'd love to hear them.

And, hey, don't those Huff-N-Puffs look fun?

You're Going to (Disney's) Hollywood (Studios)

Artwork (c) Disney

Disney announced a new American Idol attraction that will set up shop in the old Superstar Television building at Disney's Hollywood Studios.

While WDW management should be commended for a) doing something with this abandoned structure and b) using a television property rather than creating another shopfront stuffed with princesses and c) avoiding the temptation to go cheap and incestuous with their own tween-centric High School Musical/Cheetah Girls/Hannah Montana programming, I still have to wonder how well this all-but washed up Fox show will play in just a few years. American Idol is showing its age. The viewing audience for its opening episode this season was its lowest in four years. As malaise sets in and the wind goes out of American Idol's sails, the park will be left with another empty Who Wants to be a Millionaire building.

Still, I'm curious to visit this attraction and to find out how Disney deals with one of the show's most iconic elements: Simon Cowell's signature insults. Many viewers tune in to American Idol just to watch as unfortunates are singled out by Cowell and subsequently ridiculed during each season's initial episodes. Will Disney subject their guests to random acts of mean-spiritedness? If they avoid this aspect of the show, will they be neutering it for guests who are coming just to hear wry British putdowns?

And one last thing...what is with this concept art? The people are rendered about 3x as large as they would appear against the existing structure. As part of this renovation, are they shrinking the building? Are they only inviting the sad victims of bovine growth hormone overdoses? Either way, the whole thing just comes across as something more rinky-dink than I imagine Disney had hoped.

And one last-last thing, again on the concept art. For those who pine for the original Disney-MGM Studios with its Hollywood-That-Never-Was aesthetic, well, let's just kiss that old idea goodbye. If this attraction is realized as rendered, we'll have a sleek contemporary structure and an overscaled, visually hyperactive LED board screaming at the end of Hollywood Boulevard. If the hat wasn't enough, this attraction may well be the cut that kills the old Bob Weis-era Studios.

Oh well, here's hoping they have a Clay Aiken rubberhead wandering the park.