Euripides may have written the most enduring examples of classical Greek tragedy, but it appears that Disney producer Alice Dewey will earn the distinction of ending up with the most expensive one. At the time of this writing, Walt Disney's Hercules was no longer among the top ten grossing films and after a mere seven weeks in release was falling faster than Icarus on a sunny Ionian day. The take so far? A spartan $84 million dollars, a figure to cause Croesus to wrinkle his nose in disgust where Disney films are concerned. It may be that the gods (or perhaps the Baptists) have invoked the punishment for hubris upon Disney, but if one examines the film one can only conclude that if so, the gods must be crazy.
Hercules is, in most respects, a fine animated film. Since this is a commentary rather than a review, suffice it to say that while our mesomorphic hero is a bit bland, the animation is stunning, the supporting and secondary characters are winning and well-developed, and the tight story and hip script were built for an Olympian success. Throw in a bevy of soul-sister, be-boppin' Muses to juice up the score, and the result should have been a veritable Greek chorus of accolades (not to mention drachmas). With all due respect to James Woods, what in Hades happened?
It is generally agreed that the modern Disney revival began in 1989 with The Little Mermaid which was a critical and financial success. ($84 million). This film was followed by Beauty and the Beast which nabbed an Oscar nomination for Best Picture and rang the Belle for $145 million. Next came Aladdin, which used a snappy script, masterful animation, a starry musical score and the mercurial talents of Robin Williams to update an old tale. Moviegoers were enchanted to the tune of $217 million. Not even Disney was prepared for what happened next: Their first "original" animated film (although adherents of Osamu Tezuka may well dispute the point), The Lion King, stalked the $300 million plateau making it one of the highest-grossing films of all time. Hakuna matata became the byword at Disney, and when it was announced that Pocahontas was up next, moguls, merchandisers, and media mavens alike rubbed their hands together in collective glee.
The wampum, however, soon began to dry up. Pocahontas, by far the blandest and least interesting of the "modern" Disney features, turned in $141 million. Undismayed, the Mouse House developed their adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame which barely cleared the $100 million hump. A downward trend is becoming evident which brings us back to Hercules, trudging through 1,957 screens of Stygian mire (as of August 8th) in an effort to at least draw even with Quasimodo and pals. Should Disney be concerned?
There is historical evidence of a cyclical trend in the production and public perception of Disney's animated feature-length films. 1937-1942 (Snow White to Bambi) constituted a "golden age " for Disney; even if some of the films initially lost money, it cannot be disputed that Disney assumed the position it still holds against all comers to this day in the field of feature animation. This era was followed by a fallow period, 1943-1949, marked largely by compilation features that were disdained by critics and the public alike.
The period from 1950-1961 ( Cinderella to One Hundred and One Dalmatians) saw Disney back in full flower, capturing the hearts of a new generation of filmgoers. There followed a long period of decline (1963-1988) which reached it's nadir around the time of The Black Cauldron (1985). It seemed that Disney animation might actually be phased out. After a couple of capable counterpunches at the end of this era, we come to the aforementioned "revival" of 1989. Could it simply be that the wheel is about to turn again? If this is a matter of historical forces at work, then a slump is inevitable; however, I believe that in many ways Disney has worked against its own interests. If asked (and I certainly won't be), I would pinpoint the following problems and offer these solutions:
Scheduling
Although it was always Walt's dream to release one animated feature per year, this sort of predictability detracts from the Disney mystique, reducing the feature to an annual commodity. This practice also forces the studio to stagger the schedules of their animators. Disney may be far better off to call a halt, rethink this philosophy, and release a major animated film every other year. This approach would raise anticipation on the part of the public and Disney could use their premier lineup every time out. Glen Keane, Mark Henn, Eric Goldberg, and Andreas Deja together on the same project? Heaven! With income rolling in from ABC, Touchstone, Miramax, TV productions, video sales, the Mighty Ducks, the Anaheim Angels, etc., Disney would not miss the steadily shrinking take from one animated film in a given year. Their animators could also be put to work reviving the Disney short subject for release with live-action features. While we are on the subject of scheduling......
Overhype and Merchandising
I will not belabor the obvious: The consumer market is flooded with merchandise and tie-ins well past the point of saturation every time a Disney animated feature is released. Anyone who has had to mollify a pleading child, visited the local fast-food emporium, or handed out candy to no less than thirty Esmereldas on Halloween night already knows this well. The larger annoyance is that ninety-five percent of these products seem to be on the shelves and in one's face months before the film itself is released. The runaway success of The Little Mermaid nearly caught Disney's merchandising arm with their swimsuits down, and the company made moves to guarantee that no such situation would ever occur again.
Hercules made its presence known through video trailers, early sales of action figures, articles of clothing, promotional tie-ins, and an Aegean stable full of Hercules-related gewgaws and doodads well before the release date. Bob Thomas offered us a revised version of his book Disney's Art of Animation which extensively covered Hercules and gave away every nuance and detail of the film. Hercules even boasted its own promotional mall tour, a horrible redundancy since most major malls already carry a Disney Store. By the time Hercules actually premiered in the theaters, the film was an anti-climactic event, pre-sold to the point where most filmgoers were weary of the hype (and the expense). One had the eerie sense that one had already seen the picture two or three times before attending a first showing.
Disney would do well to have the film sell the merchandise, not vice versa. If the film is a smashing success, the profits will follow in all areas; witness Men In Black . Disney's marketing specialists may dispute this viewpoint by spinning statistics about "lead-in time", "recognition factor" and "shelf life", but one cold, unyielding figure undermines all their arcane analyses: $84 million and falling fast.
Thematic Repetition
Hercules may have been a great film in it's own right, but in the context of the recent Disney films, it could have easily been titled Sisyphus. Disney's films are becoming indistinguishable from one another in content and style. Aladdin is a "diamond in the rough"; the Beast must learn to find the humanity within, as Quasimodo must eventually realize his inner beauty. Simba is told to look inside himself, as is Hercules. Through the magical intervention of an all-powerful father (Zeus, Triton, a ghostly Mufasa) the hero/ine is granted true happiness by the film's climax. The sidekicks and comedy relief characters have become such a standard component that they are practically tattooed as such, and the best animation in the world can't cover up the similarities in the plots.
This look-inside-your- heart theme, coupled with Broadway stylization and matching musical score may have become passČ with viewers. Every film, for example, features an expository "I want" number in which the hero/ine reveals his/her dreams. The American movie musical has been finished for years; if "Paint Your Wagon" wasn't the last gasp, "Pennies From Heaven" and "One From The Heart" certainly were. Even Broadway doesn't really do Broadway anymore. Outside of Disney, the animated musical has gone to the box-office slaughterhouse every time out in the 1990's, the latest casualty being the classy but underpromoted Cats Don't Dance. It may be time to lose the show tunes, play down the romance, and come out with a ripping action feature or a surreal fantasy (with help from Pixar) that would break the stultifying mold that Disney features seem to be struck from of late. Perhaps Tarzan or Treasure Planet hold the greatest promise in this regard; I, for one, hope so.
It is difficult to accept that the fragmented Baptist boycott has seriously dented Disney, nor is there reason to believe that Disney is beginning to pale against the competition. Predictable films on a predictable schedule preceded by mountains of ballyhoo and merchandising are more likely the culprits in the case of the Disney decline. Even as I fervently hope for change, I can well imagine the obligatory scene where Mulan's lovely heroine (looking much like her vinyl doll) stands in the tawny sunlight on a mountain top, hair undulating in the wind, spreading her arms to sing as the music swells.......
Send your compliments, brickbats, and comments to Dr. Toon.
Correction: The following errata were unaccountably (heh heh) present in my last column: The third (fourth?) Roger Rabbit short, "Trail Mix-Up" was directed by Barry Cook. "Runaway Brain" was directed by Chris Bailey. My thanks to Scott Graham.
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