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Announced with the loud and proclaiming carnival fanfare of “Casey Jones”, the opening of Walt Disney’s Dumbo, now celebrating its 70th anniversary, defines the sweetness that is its very soul. It’s only a moment, but those horns and that theme live long after the movie has closed with their thrilling theme. It’s a special moment that leads straight into the “Look Out for Mr. Stork” sequence that is only the hint of the tasty syrup that makes Dumbo so brilliantly charming and uncomplicated. Dumbo, as perfect as it is, is also the last film to be issued from the studio's Golden Age. With World War II on the horizon, the world was changing. The studio was also changing and, in response, so were the demands of its artists and its vocal talent; a list of demands (and eventual strike) that would turn Walt Disney away from running his business like a family atmosphere for a great number of years.
Dumbo, then, is the final breath of pure air.
Written by Dick Huemer and Joe Grant in a bid to generate money for the studio after the financial failures of Fantasia and Pinocchio, Dumbo was Walt Disney’s ultimate gamble circa 1941. Keep it “simple” and “inexpensive” was the motto of the Disney animators and, in doing so, the heartwarming story flourished in spite of its low-key animation and watercolor backgrounds. The gamble worked. Call it Disney’s animated miracle if you wish because that’s exactly how it performed; they actually turned a profit and, in response, the film was released theatrically four more times before settling into its home theatre market.
When Mrs. Jumbo (Verna Felton) receives her baby from Mr. Stork (Sterling Holloway) the first thing anyone can’t help but notice is the size of his enormous ears. Nicknamed “Dumbo” by everyone in the circus, Dumbo finds himself the outcast and object of ridicule. The gossip about Mrs. Jumbo’s protective actions that lead to her solitary confinement becomes the “meat and potatoes” of all the other elephants. That is until Timothy Q. Mouse (Edward Brophy), who sees nothing wrong with the size of Dumbo’s ears, decides to do something about it and becomes his friend. Together, the two devise a plan to make Dumbo the star of the show.
Unfortunately, due to the size of Dumbo’s ears, the act backfires and Dumbo is made the carnival’s clown. Depressed and lower than low, Dumbo visits his mother and, certainly not cheered up by her continuous confinement, accidentally drinks too much champagne. After a famous hallucinatory animated sequence, Dumbo and Timothy Q. Mouse end up in a tree. It seems our sad hero can use his jumbo-sized ears to fly. Assisted by Jim Crow (Cliff Edwards) and a gangly group of crows (the Hall Johnson Choir), Dumbo is tricked into thinking that a feather can make him fly (because, certainly, elephants can not). Making him realize that he can fly is the trick of the movie, but it’s certainly something that Dumbo has to learn to become the real star of the traveling circus show.
The blue-eyed sweetness of Dumbo (both in character and in movie) is certainly one of the most charming things Disney has ever produced. The artful satire and familiar caricatures are simple and undemanding; never crushing the screen with unnecessary detail (just like the animation) and still maintaining enough depth to push the story forward into the category of an unarguable classic. The film is a perfect pasture of flowers and kept grass; it's also great art. It's the perfect balance of what animation can do so well.
When I was younger, I felt Dumbo was uncomplicated sentimentality and dismissed it as such. Obviously, that has changed. Take the “Pink Elephants on Parade" segment - directed by Norm Ferguson and animated by Hicks Lokey, Howard Swift and Frank Thomas – for example. Obviously, this rich piece of neon nightmares and color is unlike anything from the era and does more as an adult piece of animation than that of goofy silliness. Obviously, the use of shadows (see the scene where Timothy Q. Mouse's shadow appears over the ringmaster while he sleeps) was far from my attention. Looking at the scene today, I see just how the German impressionistic horror films were used to develop the animator's use of shadows and stripes. The use of natural movement and surrealism is also a rich endeavor throughout the film.
The introduction of the blues and jazz soul that the singing black crows bring (singing the best song of the movie “When I See an Elephant Fly”) still leaves me with good vibes (even if some argue of racial stereotypes); these guys are good by nature. A pro-civil rights statement? It certainly could be argued as such. But let’s not complicate things too much with over analysis, folks. The back-chatter is focused and certainly not anything unlike that of a really close band and such. Don’t forget, too, that the crows are probably the most important characters in the story as they are the most free and the most comfortable; they are who they are and the world has to accept them as such.
Dumbo is like a child’s favorite picture book. It’s uncomplicated in form and function and, in being the shortest of all Disney productions, its emotional payoff is great. I remember when I first saw the film. It was 1976; the last time Dumbo was released in theatres and my early childhood memories were being formed. Images from this movie (pink elephants, singing black crows, and Casey Jones) were cataloged by my brain; emotions were created and responses were formed.
One would really have to be a soulless individual to not be moved by a story about someone who gets kicked around only to realize that his differences make him a success. Some argue that Disney would never get any better with their movies. While a controversial stance (and one I am not sure I agree with), Dumbo was the first (and only) time I ever saw an elephant fly and now, on blu-ray, you and your family can witness the miracle, too.
MPAA Rating: G for general audiences.
