(DISCLAIMER: This blog is the property of the Walt Disney Corporation. The Walt Disney Corporation reserves the right to protect its copyrighted material from any and all infringement. Violators will be shot and fed to the shareholders. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
“Mouse! Mouse! Where are you!”
“Walt!? What are you doing?! Get out of here while you still can!”
“My God, it’s even worse than I imagined. The animation…so awful…the characters…so…ugly…”
“Disney. You came.”
“Huh. I had a feeling the Horned King wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off. You must be the man behind the man.”
“Indeed.”
“Well played.”
“Thank you.”
“It was you…”
“Obviously.”
“But then how?”
“Don’t you see?”
“Ah. Brilliant.”
“So you understand?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then there’s no reason for me to explain.”
“Of course not. It’s simplicity itself. You’d have to be an idiot not to understand.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your witness.”
“It was I who resurrected the Horned King, you furry fool. I who suggested to him that he trap you in this movie.”
“Why? What did I ever do to you?”
“You? My poor deluded Mouse. This was never about YOU. I did all this to get HIM here.”
“Why? Who are you?”
“Someone who owes you a lifetime of torment. Someone who has suffered at your hands like no other. Someone whose desire for revenge burns like the fire of a thousand white hot suns.”
“That could literally be anyone. Care to narrow it down for me?”
“P.L. Travers maybe?”
“Ooh! Good guess! Pamela, is that you?”
“NO I AM NOT PAMELA TRAVERS! NOW REVIEW THE MOVIE! REVIEW…AND DIE!”
The origins of Foodfight are shrouded in mystery and occultation. It is said to have been the creation of “Larry Kasanoff”, a figure who appears in Arab folklore as a wandering trickster and teller of evil tales. Legend has it that Kasanoff was entranced by Pixar’s Toy Story, and tried to make his own version set in a supermarket, with corporate mascots instead of beloved toys. He approached the masters and lords of coproate America and with honeyed words filled their hearts with greed. “My Lords” he said “Think of it, a film that was an advertisement. Two hours of product placement made for little, impressionable children. Is it not glorious?” And, so, the story goes, they agreed to let Kasanoff use their mascots for his diabolical scheme. For many long years he toiled at his black work, suffering many setbacks. Indeed, his early work was stolen in what Kasanoff called “industrial espionage” but what we can only call “true heroism”. This forced Kasanoff to start again from scratch. Whoever that nameless thief was, we must thank him for seeking to spare us this monstrosity, even if ultimately his work was for nothing.
Many Bothans died trying to stop this movie.
Then again, this is all supposition. Perhaps there never was a “Larry Kasanoff”. We may never know who created Foodfight! Maybe it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it exists. I am Walter Elias Disney, The Doom of Bahia, Master of the Black Mouse and defender of this world. And today, at last, I know fear. Today, I review Foodfight!
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
“I now call this meeting of the United Foes of the Unshaved Mouse to order. Roll call! Comrade Crow!”
Gentlemen. Ladies. Assorted vermin. You know why I have summoned you all here.
“I gotta question, Horny. Why are we holding meetings when the Mouse is still breathing? Why don’t we just take him out now?”
“Silence you over-varnished fool! Don’t you understand that an enemy like Batman can’t be defeated by mere brute strength? We have to…I think I might be in the wrong meeting.”
“Yeah. I think you’re across the hall.”
“Forgive me gentlemen.”
McCarthy. I would advise you to hold your tongue. Or I shall hold it for you.
“C’mon! Lets kill the Mouse!”
Fool. We’re not going to kill the Unshaved Mouse.
“We’re not?”
“Sorry, I think I might be in the wrong meeting too…”
No. We are not going to kill him. After all, there are things so much worse than death. I have devised a fate so heinous for the Unshaved Mouse that it can scarcely be believed. But it requires finesse, and patience.
“What is the plan, tovarich?”
First I will implant a hypnotic suggestion in the Mouse’s subconscious. Disney’s manipulations of him have left him uniquely susceptible to this. I intend to strike when he is at his weakest. His most vulnerable. His most…despairing.
***
AAAAAAARRRRHHHH…
YAAAAAAAAAARGGH…
BLEEEEEEECHHHHHHHH…
Alright, you know what? Before I can even approach this one I have got to rant about the poster. The goddamn poster! That’s how much suck we have to get through here.
“Bust a Moo?”
BUST A MOO?!!!!
WHAT THE FLAGELLATING FINICKY FLIPPING FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!!???
FIND ME WHO CAME UP WITH THAT! I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING! FIND ME WHO WROTE THAT TAGLINE SO THAT I CAN PSYCHICALLY KILL THEM WITH PURE HATRED! DO IT NOW!
“Mouse. Calm down. Your friends are worried about you.”
“We’re worried. Yes.”
Sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry but…oh God that poster. That poster pretty much encapsulates the whole problem with this movie. Just this weird, desperate attempt to be hip and funny that fails so badly you’re not even sure if that’s what they were going for. It’s one thing to come last in a race. It’s another to come last because you were pushing a bobsled on the track. One just means you were bad. The other is being so inept it’s hard for an outside observer to be sure that you were even trying to win. Like all the real turkeys in the Disney canon, details on Home on the Range’s origins are hard to come by. Wikipedia, TV Tropes and IMDb are pretty light on facts and presumably only God and Michael Eisner know where the bodies are buried. I do know that Home on the Range started pre-production all the way back in 1995, that it was once going to be called Sweating Bullets and that the premise was at one point that a young calf named Bullets taking on a gang of ghost cattle rustlers called The Willies. Yeah, so this thing was always going to suck, basically. There is no universe where this movie turned out well.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
Disney is proud of Atlantis. It didn’t make a lot of money, it wasn’t a huge critical success, but nonetheless they are damned proud of that movie. How do I know? Look at the DVD release. There are literally hours of behind the scenes material, concept art, excised scenes and a full visual commentary by the directors. All this is essentially the studio saying “Looking how much hard work and effort and craft went into making this film.”
The Brother Bear DVD has a commentary by two Canadian moose. Make of that what you will.
Why did no one warn me? Seriously? Why did none of you have the goddamned decency to let me know what was in store? Oh sure, you said it was bad. But there is a difference between saying “You know, trains can be dangerous if they hit you” and screaming “GET OFF THE TRACKS YOU IDIOT!!”. Hell, why didn’t Disney warn me? How could they just release this on an unsuspecting public? Okay fine, I don’t expect them to flat out say “Our movie is cinema’s answer to the Khmer Rouge” but they could at least have hinted in their marketing that some serious shit was coming our way.
I…I…ohhhhh that is hard to answer. Do you take the flaming mace to the nutsack or the being forcibly fed live moray eels? Dinosaur is horribly deriviative, ugly and deathly dull. Brother Bear, at least, is only one of those (the last one). It’s not a particularly bad looking film, certainly not jaw-dropping but not an assualt on the eyes either. And I certainly would never call this movie deriviative. Dinosaur’s plot is so rote you pretty much know how it’s going to play out within five minutes. Brother Bear though? Credit where it’s due, I guess, I would not have predicated the story choices this movie makes. It certainly tries to break the mold and try something different. But…”different” is not always “good”.
Well, that’s “different”.
I honestly have never watched any Disney movie so slack jawed with utter disbelief at what I was watching. Never have I stared at the screen, silently mouthing the words “No. NO! No. No…No.”
I wanted to give you some background on this movie, what they were thinking, who thought it, what punishment was eventually meted out to them but there is nothing really. Nothing on the internet, nothing on the DVD barring the moose commentary. And no, I didn’t listen to it. I don’t owe you that. I don’t owe anyone that.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
***
Occasionally, before beginning a review, I will don a simple disguise and mingle with the common folk of the Disney fandom. “Tell me good sirrah,” I might enquire of some good-hearted peasant in a small, provincial internet forum “What do the people think of Lilo and Stitch?”.
“Why sir, it is rightly lauded as a most wondrous film and much beloved.”
“And the Unshaved Mouse? I have heard that he is a reviewer of passable skill?”
“Passable skill? By thunder sir, he is a very God amongst the reviewing class, and most sorely do I wish he were here, that I might shake his hand.”
“Mayhap he is closer than you think, good pleb” I would say with a benevolent smile. I would then toss him a Bitcoin to see the light of thanks in his eyes, and be on my way.
My point is, I try to take the pulse of where we as a fandom are on a particular film and what I found with Treasure Planet made me a little worried. A cursory glance at the internet shows that this thing has a healthier fanbase than many other movies in the canon. Lots of fanart and fanfiction, plenty of people willing to fly the “Lost Classic” banner, some of the most soul scarring motherfucking Jim/Silver porn you have ever seen in your life that I can now never unsee for as long as I live…
But on the flip side…
Yeah, so there is a lot of hate for this thing out there. Robert Louis Stevenson purists, animation nerds who blame it for the death of traditional Disney animation, people who just flat out hate it as a movie, Somalis who were suckered into a life of piracy by the unrealistic portrayal in the movie…
These young men were promised robots.
This movie has made more enemies than Boba Fett. And this puts me in a tough position because when it comes to Treasure Planet I fall into the controversial camp of: ”Meh. ‘Sfine.”
Treasure Planet was actually originally pitched by Ron Clements and Jon Musker all the way back in 1985 but it was passed over in favour of Little Mermaid which…yeah, probably the right call. I was surprised to learn that this was a Clements and Musker film because it feels a lot more like something by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise, particularly Atlantis. Clements and Musker were actually happy for the delay because by the time they got a chance to make it the technology had caught up with their vision for the film. And I’ve got to say this up front; this film is gorgeous. In fact, almost all the Lost Era movies are. The quality of the movies may have gone down after the renaissance, sure, but if anything the animation just kept getting better and better. Let’s take a look.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
Sometime before production had started on Mulan, Michael Eisner took a load of the Disney animators out to his mother’s apple orchard so that they could get inspiration from the gorgeous autumnal colours and also because there were a load of apples that needed picking , chop, chop. As the pasty, pencil armed creatures hoisted bushels and sweated against the magnificent backdrop of a September sunset, Michael Eisner’s thoughts turned to Dumbo, another endeavour that would not have been possible without cheap, non-union labour. Why was it that Disney couldn’t make movies like Dumbo anymore?, Eisner mused later that night, enjoying a frothy mug of Mama Eisner’s finest apple cider as the sweet melody of the animators singing their spirituals in the nearby camp wafted through the night air. Dumbo, you’ll recall, was pretty much the only Disney animation of the forties to turn a profit, not because it did that much better at the box-office than the other films but because it had been so cheap to make. The next day, the surviving animators were rounded up and taken back to Burbank and the basic idea for Lilo and Stitch had been planted; to create a successful animated film that did not cost the GNP of a small European nation to make. Lilo and Stich had a budget of $80 Million, which only sounds like a lot because we are poor and clad in filthy rags. For a feature length animated film it’s peanuts. But fortunately, some cartoons work for peanuts.
Eddie Valiant, however, does not.
Actually, the relatively small budget was the gift that kept on giving for this movie. The fact that directors Chris Sanders and Dean deBlois weren’t gambling with a huge chunk of Disney’s money meant that they could work without the execs breathing down their necks like a pack of asthmatic vampire bats. In fact, management was remarkably hands off on this one, which is why it looks, sounds and feels like nothing else in the canon. This movie is shaped visually by Chris Sanders own unique artistic style, and if you came to this movie cold you probably wouldn’t even know it was a Disney movie. But is that a good thing?
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
***
So you may have noticed that I’ve been doing a little housekeeping around here.
Anything to avoid doing a little housekeeping around here.
Since we’re now pushing fifty reviews I’ve finally organised the reviews by era and decade so you can more easily browse them. Longtime readers of the blog will know that I’ve got my own idiosyncratic way of organising the canon Disney movies; The Tar and Sugar Movies of the late thirties and early forties, the Never Heard of ‘Ems of the war years, the fifties Restoration, the sixties and seventies Scratchy Era, the Mourning Era of the eighties and the Renaissance of the nineties. I then had to come up with a name for this weird post-millenial chunk of movies between Fantasia 2000 and The Princess and the Frog and this had me stumped for a good while. I hear “The Dark Age” trotted out a lot as a description for this era but that just doesn’t sit well with me for two reasons; firstly I try to use a name that suits the overall style and tone of the movies and the movies of this period are not particularly “dark”. Then of course, “The Dark Age” implies that all these films are somehow inferior and you can tell me that The Emperor’s New Grooveand Lilo and Stitch are bad movies or you can keep your limbs intact but you cannot do both. Finally, I settled on “The Lost Era” because this era, like the Mourning Era, was an experimental time where Disney was trying to answer the question “What kind of movies do we make?” The most sustained periods of success in Disney’s history have always been times when the company found a formula that worked. When they knew what they were about. In the fifties, it was fairytales and adaptations of classic children’s literature. In the sixties, it was jazzy Sherman Brothers musicals, in the nineties it was all about Broadway. The origins of Atlantis: The Lost Empire began in a Mexican restaurant when directors Gary Trousdale, Kirk Wise and producer Don Hahn sat down to a big bowl of nachos and tried to figure out the future of Disney. These three men were the creative heads behind my personal favorite Disney movie, The Hunchback of Notre Dameand this meeting was born largely out of a desire to keep the band together, so to speak. Trousdale, Wise and Hahn realised that they had put together an absolutely phenomenal team for Hunchback and were anxious not to see this incredibly talented group of people separated and put on other projects. The solution was obvious: Make another movie. But what kind of movie? It was clear by now that the Broadway Disney musical had been done. And done again. And then, why not, done a couple more times. And while those movies had been hugely (HUGELY) successful, it was clear that enough was enough. When you’ve got a formula that’s familiar enough for this kind of parody to work…
…it’s time to try something new. This was the paradox Disney faced in the early 21st century. They knew what worked, but they couldn’t do it anymore. For a while, Tarzanhad seemed to offer a way forward, a pseudo-musical with all the songs sung by a big name musical talent instead of the characters. But then that had come a rather massive cropper with the Kingdom of the Sun/Emperor’s New Groovedebacle.Yeah, yeah, I know. You love the movie, I love the movie. That’s because it didn’t cost us $100 Million. More importantly perhaps, Trousdale, Wise and Hahn did not want to make another animated musical. As the nacho cheese flowed like wine, the three men began talking about the movies they had loved growing up, and specifically, the Disney movies they had loved growing up. Now, hold onto your hats people because I am about to blow your freaking minds. Did you know that Disney also made live action, non-animated, human-acted with actual human beings movies?
I warned you.
My paw to God, it’s true. In fact, my good buddy Animation Commendation even has a blog devoted to Disney’s live action efforts which I’ve been meaning to link to for ever. You should check it out. The germ for the idea that would become Atlantis began with a desire to do an animated version of the old Disney live action adventure movies. You know, Davy Crockett, Treasure Island and by far it’s most obvious influence, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
Atlantis represented a huge, daring creative gamble for Disney, an attempt to break out of the admittedly lucrative formula that had begun to stifle the studio creatively. This was going to be something new. There would be no funny animal sidekicks. The movie’s unofficial motto during production was “less singing, more explosions”. Comic book creator Mike Mignola was brought in to give the movie a new distinctive visual look. This thing would have a PG rating by God!
I’m frightened.
One thing that really comes across watching this movie and the bonus material that comes with it is just how much everybody cared about this film. Seriously, you can tell, they worked their asses off on this. Did it pay off?
Well…read the review! You think I’m just going to tell you up front?
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
***
So let me tell you a little story about the worst movie Disney never made. It was called Kingdom of the Sun, an epic retelling of the story of the Prince and the Pauper set in the Incan Empire. Roger Allers, director of the Lion King was at the helm, Owen Wilson was cast as the Pauper, David Spade was the Prince, Eartha Kitt was playing the villainous sorceress Yzma who was to be animated by the legendary Andreas Deja. Oh, and the score was to be provided by legendary rocker Sting. Sounds pretty awesome, right? So what happened? Well, the movie making business is a huge, complex and labyrinthine affair and the reasons why certain movies fail and others succeed is never clear cut but if I had to guess I’d have to say it was because it sucked balls. Test audiences hated the movie, which was a problem because half the damn thing was already completed. So Mark Dindal, director of Cats Don’t Dance, was brought in to make the movie a bit more light hearted and audience friendly. Dindal and Allers pretty soon found themselves at odds to the point where each director was essentially making a different movie. The Disney execs had been willing to give Allers a lot of leeway because…y’know…fucking Lion King…but it was becoming increasingly apparent that Kingdom of the Sun wasn’t going to make it’s 2000 release date. And this was a problem because Disney had signed merchandising deals with McDonald’s and Coke who probably had Michael Eisner’s daughter as collateral or something. Allers asked for a six month extension to get his shit together. And so Allers left and it fell to Dindal to pull off one of the most amazing salvage jobs in modern movie history. Out of the ashes of Kingdom of the Sun, came Emperor’s New Groove, which I have now rewatched and feel confident in saying is the single greatest comedy in the entire Disney canon. Funnier than Robin Hood and Jungle Book. It’s hilarious. In fact, it’s so funny that I’m pretty much totally screwed. There is nothing harder to review than a good comedy, especially if you are a quote unquote “comedic” reviewer. I mean, look, I think I can be pretty funny on a good day, but there is no way in hell that I can write a review that will make you laugh more than just watching this thing. But, as long we’re all agreed that this is an exercise in futility, I’m game if you are. Okay, so Dindal basically decided that there was no chance in hell they could do the kind of epic, Lion King-esque movie that Allers had planned in the time left, so they might as well just have fun. Gone was the Prince and the Pauper storyline. Yzma was now a wacky mad scientist. The Emperor, Kuzco, was now an entitled jerk. The tapes for Owen Wilson’s performance were taken and cast out into the wilderness to be feasted on by jackals with a taste for deadpan Texan delivery and John Goodman was brought in to replace him. Everything was now stripped down, small cast, simple plot, no big animated set pieces. Oh, and all but two of the songs Sting wrote were tossed out. Sting would later say: “At first, I was angry and perturbed. Then I wanted some vengeance.” Well, having had to listen to My Funny Friend and Me, I too want some vengeance, Sting.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
Unshaved Mouse?
Yes? Who are you?
I’m Court Appointed Attorney Antarctica. I’m to represent you at your trial.
Give it to me straight. What are my chances?
Don’t worry about it. I actually think we’ve got a very strong case.
Really?
Sure. See, Comrade Crow may have taken over but it’s still your blog. And the only way he can change the name of the blog is if he can prove you’ve failed in your duty as a Disney reviewer.
Wow! That’s great! He’ll never be able to prove that!
Just relax. I’ll have you out of here before my icecaps melt.
This is a lawyer!
All rise for the Honourable Judge Claude Frollo!
Has the prosecution prepared a statement?
Indeed, your honour. Comrades! For too long we have languished under the yoke of this detestable rodent!
UP YOURS CROW!
He claims to be a reviewer of Disney movies, and yet not one week ago he devoted an entire post to non-Disney animated films!
Your honour, my client has repeatedly proven his loyalty to the Disney canon. If this is the best the prosecution can do I feel sorry for them.
His views on Disney movies have frequently been contrarian, laughable, or just plain idiotic!
… Swanpride?
Objection, your honour, who here DOESN’T hate Aristocats?
Sustained.
Very well, I shall prove the Unshaved Mouse is unfit to review Disney movies. Mouse, tell the court which do you prefer; Fantasia…or Fantasia 2000!?
Oh. Well, on balance I’d say I probably prefer Fantasia 2000.
…
Your Honour, I cannot in good conscience defend my client. I urge you to find him guilty.
Wait what?!
I recommend death by fire ants. Kill this sick freak!
Where did you get your law degree?!
WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR SOUL!?
Okay, yes. It’s not a popular opinion but let me explain why. And then I will accept the court’s judgment. Agreed?
The court accedes.
Very well.
NO! KILL HIM NOW!
I just came to this blog because I was told there were Disney reviews here and I have no fucking idea what all this bullshit is.
New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.It’s right up there at the top.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)
So as I sit here in my small, dank COMFORTABLY APPOINTED DISSIDENT CONTAINMENT RECEPTACLE, forced to eat NOURISHING RATIONS FOR WHICH I AM GRATEFUL and being brutally beaten about the head with THE BRILLIANT INTELLECTUAL REVELATIONS OF MARXIST THOUGHT I’ve had time to think. Mostly, or course, I’ve been darkly plotting what I’m going to do to that BENEVOLENT FATHER OF THE PEOPLE COMRADE CROW, ALL HAIL CROW! once I NEVER ESCAPE. But I’ve also been thinking about Tarzan. What happened to Tarzan? Why is it that no one seems to remember this movie? If I walk into a room and randomly sing the first few lines of “Hakuna Matata” or “Part of Your World” chances are that the whole room will join me for the chorus. “Two Worlds”? Crickets.
Why did this movie leave so little trace on pop culture? Well, it wasn’t really that popular when it came out, right? Wrong. This thing opened at Number 1 and outgrossed Mulan, which had already been seen as a major return to form for Disney. And it’s not like the critics were leery of it either, this thing got crazy good reviews: 88% on Rotten Tomatoes. So why has this movie, like me, been largely forgotten? Part of the problem, I think, is that by the turn of the millennium Disney had become a victim of its own success. In America, from the late nineteen thirties to the mid nineties Disney was pretty much the only studio making top-tier feature length animations. Sure, challengers would occasionally arise (the Fleischers in the thirties and forties, UPA and Hanna-Barbera in the sixties) but for most of that half century the only studio willing to risk the massive investment of time and money that is involved in making a feature length cartoon was the mo’fuckin House of Mouse. And don’t forget, most of the movies that we’ve covered on this blog were not all that successful financially. Even the really big hits like Sleeping Beauty cost so much that their massive box office takes were a Pyrrhic victory. Disney made most of their money in merchandising and the theme parks, which meant that smaller studios that didn’t have the luxury of owning theme park were content to leave the feature length animation pastures to Disney. But then, something happened. With the advent of new computer technologies, producing a full length animated feature went from being impossibly expensive and prohibitively time consuming to merely hugely expensive and massively time consuming. Disney capitalised on this, and in one the whitest hot streaks in movie studio history, ushered in the Renaissance. These movies were huge, some of the most successful of all time. Suddenly what had previously been seen as a white elephant was now one of the most profitable genres in the business. And why was that?
Disney created a market where animated features could be hugely successful and now they had to contend with a host of rivals, some of them mighty intimidating. There was Pixar of course, who released Toy Story 2 the same year as Tarzan, and were now well on their way to being one of the most critically lauded studios in cinema history. And then there was Dreamworks, run by former Disney boss Jeffrey Katzenberg, whose ruthlessly commercial movie making would produce three of the biggest grossing films of all time. And that’s not to mention the dozens of smaller rivals that sprang up in the wake of Disney’s early nineties successes. Heck, it’s gotten to the stage where it seems like anyone can release a full length animation. Even these idiots!
And I this is why I think Tarzan doesn’t stick in people’s memory. Not because it isn’t an awesome movie (it is) but because it was released in a time when Disney were no longer kings in their field. Pixar had taken the crown of critical darling, DreamWorks the crown of commercial money-making animation powerhouse (or they would with the release of Shrek a few years later). Tarzan came at the tail end of the Renaissance, overlapping with the beginning of Pixar’s reign and it just got lost in the folds. So let’s take a look at this thing, before the guards come and shackle me GENTLY to the wall and begin PLAYTIME WITH FRIENDLY DOGS who will brutally LICK my FACE while a DEDICATED SERVANT OF THE GLORIOUS REGIME OF COMRADE CROW, HAIL CROW! shoves THE GLORIOUS TRUTH OF THE ETERNAL REVOLUTION up my OUTDATED BOURGEOIS WORLDVIEW. This will probably be my last review. And God help me, I’m writing it on toilet paper.
And so Allers left and it fell to Dindal to pull off one of the most amazing salvage jobs in modern movie history. Out of the ashes of Kingdom of the Sun, came Emperor’s New Groove, which I have now rewatched and feel confident in saying is the single greatest comedy in the entire Disney canon. Funnier than 
unshavedmouse 