 by Stephen Schochet
| | Chasen's
restaurant in old Hollywood was a legendary hangout where movie stars
expected to dine in peaceful private booths on barbecued chili without
putting up with celebrity gawkers. There were occasional breaks in the
quiet. Jimmy Stewart's bachelor party was thrown there complete with
midgets clad only in diapers jumping out of cakes. Humphrey Bogart and
Peter Lorre got drunk one night and stole the restaurant's safe,
carrying it out onto the street until they were caught. WC Fields once
caused his girlfriend Carlotta Monti great anguish by dining at Chasens
with another woman. She called up nearby Cedar Sinai Hospital and told
them that the comedian was having a heart attack, resulting in an
ambulance coming to fetch him in the middle of dinner. And in 1938 the
conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, the long haired, flamboyant
Leopold Stokowski, in town to carry on a discreet love affair with Greta
Garbo, had his dinner interrupted by a note from a waiter saying that
Walt Disney wanted to meet him.
The cartoon maker and the Maestro
were surprised that both were fans of each other. As always Walt saw
meetings with talent as an opportunity to push the creative envelope. In
fifteen years of running his animation studio, Disney had used music to
supplement gags and stories, now he wanted to reverse the formula. While
recently attending a symphony at the Hollywood Bowl he had been
enthralled listening to The Sorcerer's Apprentice by Paul Dukas. What if
it were combined with a state of the art, twenty minute animated
cartoon? It could raise animation to a higher art form and introduce new
audiences to classical music who had never appreciated it before.
Stokowski loved the idea so much he volunteered to conduct it for free.
He also suggested several other pieces that could be presented with
animation as well. And so Fantasia (1940) was born.
Disney's
other reason to make Sorcerer was to save the career of Mickey Mouse. A
superstitious man, who like many in Hollywood consulted fortune tellers,
Walt felt that if Mickey died, his whole organization would go down with
him. The problem was that Mickey like many stars was now type cast. He
had gone from being mischievous to bland. It had gotten to the point
where Walt would get letters of complaint every time the little guy
would misbehave on the screen. He had been surpassed in popularity by
the mean-spirited but more versatile Donald Duck. Walt also felt that
the high pitched voice that he himself provided for the mouse was not
exciting for audiences to hear, his role in Fantasia would be silent.
Disney remained Mickey's strongest advocate, despite his artist's
suggestions the four foot rodent was a dumb character who should be
replaced in the film by Dopey. Their disdain lead to the phrase,"A
Mickey Mouse Operation" used to describe things that are second
rate.
At that time, flush with the huge success of Snow White And
The Seven Dwarfs (1937) the 37-year-old Walt Disney was at the height of
his creative powers. Visitors to the studio were amazed by his boundless
energy, they would have more surprised to find out he had suffered a
nervous breakdown eight years earlier. His anything is possible attitude
carried over to many of his artists who were zany characters to begin
with. Working on Fantasia with highbrow types like Stokowski and music
critic Deems Taylor, Walt would sometimes feel embarrassed by their
immature behavior. Don't be, he was told, Your cartoonists are like the
elves in Santa's workshop.
If Walt was ignorant about some
classical music pieces, he made up for it by plunging into Fantasia with
boyish enthusiasm. His imagination was translated into unique visions by
the Disney animators. A Bach passage reminded him of a bowl of
spaghetti, he was later amused when critics saw something profound in
the simple drawings that appeared on screen. Stokowski suggested they
use a piece called Sacre du Printemps or Rite Of Spring, by Igor
Stravinsky. "Socker, what's that?" Walt asked. After he heard
the music he wired ten thousand dollars to Stravinsky for permission to
use it. The desperate Russian composer needed the cash to get safe
passage out of occupied Paris. Sacre was transformed from ancient pagan
rituals to accompany a powerful depiction of Earth's evolution.
Beethoven's sixth symphony, The Pastoral, was changed from a peaceful
countryside setting to a Mount Olympus spectacle where unicorns,
centaurs and nymphs roamed freely. After seeing the completed work for
the first time Walt said with wide-eyed innocence,"Wow! This will
make Beethoven!"
Like what George Lucas would later do with
THX, Walt developed a new recording system called Fantasound, so that
audiences would be able to enjoy the rich quality of the music. All of
this spending was viewed with alarm by his tightfisted business partner
and classical music hating brother Roy, who annoyed Walt by suggesting
they use some Tommy Dorsey tunes instead.
With past films Disney
had often bowed to pressure from his financial backers to finish them
early while he was still tinkering, trying to make them perfect. Giving
in to the money men always gave him a sense of loss. He dreamed Fantasia
would play forever in some theaters with new segments constantly being
added, an endlessly ongoing project. But Fantasia was a crushing
disappointment for Walt in 1940. Many movie theater owners refused to
pay for the installation of Fantasound, giving the film very limited
distribution. The exhibitors who did show it charged much higher
admission prices than normal keeping audiences away. The people that did
come were often put off by the lack of a story or the frightening devil
in the Night On Bald Mountain sequence, for whom Bela Lugosi was the
real life model. Roy, who had indulged his brother because he was
certain they would break even overseas, saw World War II cut off much of
the foreign market. Classical music aficionados like the ungrateful
Stravinsky looked down their noses at Disney's masterpiece. Fantasia was
cut in length and went into mass release as the second half of a double
feature. The Disney brothers took a financial bath they nearly never
recovered from.
Fifteen years later Mickey Mouse was back on top
with The Mickey Mouse Club television show and Walt finally got his
ongoing dream project with Disneyland. But unlike other initial money
losers he made, such as Bambi (1942) and Pinocchio (1940), he never
lived to see Fantasia become profitable. Shortly before he died in 1966
he said,"Fantasia? Well I don't regret it but if I had to do it
over again, I wouldn't."
In 1968 the Beatle's cartoon Yellow
Submarine did very well with the psychedelic crowd. Sensing a new market
for Fantasia, the Disney studio re-released it and the film was finally
made profitable by drug tripping hippies who speculated that Walt must
have been on something when he produced it.
| | Stephen Schochet is the
author of the upcoming book
Hollywood Stories: Short, Entertaining Anecdotes About the Stars and
Legends of Hollywood.
He is also
the author of two acclaimed audiobooks
Tales of Hollywood and Fascinating Walt Disney.
|
|
| |
| | Notice to webmasters and publishers:
You have permission to publish these articles free of
charge, as long as the last line and link (if published online) are
included.
A courtesy copy of your publication
would be appreciated.
All articles and stories
copyright ©2010 by Stephen Schochet.
All
rights reserved.
| |
|