Monday, April 30, 2012

Forgotten Television: The Last Unicorn


Producer: Rankin & Bass

Based on the story by: Peter S. Beagle

Aired: 1982


Running Time: 93 Minutes

Peter S. Beagle’s tale about a unicorn desperate to find others of her kind was among the last projects Arthur Rankin & Jules Bass took on together, when their production team was at its height. Like several other films they made, such as Flight of Dragons or The Hobbit, The Last Unicorn took place in a mystical landscape where creatures—including harpies or manticores—were true threats to its inhabitants. They brought that fantasy world to life, while themes like conflicts between Faith/Magic & Reason/Science or the loss of innocence flowed beneath the surface.

Story


The Last Unicorn opens in an unnamed forest somewhere far away from human civilization, and with two hunters who comment on their inability to find game. The eldest declares this to be the doing of a unicorn that must live in the woods, while the younger discounts the belief as a superstition or absurd fancy. In either case, they leave for other places after the former warns aloud for the unseen unicorn to remain hidden, since she is probably the last of her species left. Needless to say, the unicorn does hear the hunter’s words, and from then on questions if what the man said was truth—finally resolving to journey and find other unicorns to prove him wrong. She is further spurred on this quest by a wayward butterfly who tells her a horrible fiery beast called “The Red Bull” has driven them into the sea, where he holds them captive.

So the unicorn begins her travels, soon learning from her first encounters with human beings that most cannot see her for what/who she really is—because they expect to see things as ordinary or non-mystical, and so can no longer see magical creatures. An old witch named “Mommy Fortuna,” who takes advantage of this fact to weave illusions around normal animals to make them appear as marvelous beasts to the people visiting her traveling carnival. Mommy Fortuna knows the unicorn for who she is, but she wants to keep anything extraordinary she finds for her own purposes. And the unicorn discovers she has a harpy, thirsty for revenge, caged as well.

It is here she meets the magician Schmendrick, who tells her: “It is a rare man that is taken for who he truly is” (once more emphasizing the identity theme) and uses his magic to release her. Together they escape into the wilderness, traveling towards a distant castle where Schmendrick has heard the Red Bull resides. Along the way, they run into several misadventures and meet Molly, an older woman who longed for a unicorn to come to her since she was a young girl. As they near the castle, though, their path becomes more dangerous, and they encounter the Red Bull. 

The Red Bull attempts to drive the unicorn into the sea as he did the other unicorns, but Schmendrick decides to use his magic and winds up changing her into a human girl. This causes much conflict, since while she is safe from the Red Bull, the former unicorn must cope with emotions she never knew before and the concept of human mortality. But there is no choice except to continue, with the unicorn now taking on the name of the “Lady Amalthea.”

They eventually reach the castle, which belongs to the tyrant King Haggard. And Schmendrick works to become the new court magician, so they can stay long enough to find out how they might free the other unicorns. Yet Lady Amalthea has become lost as a newly born woman, and as time passes her life as a unicorn gradually begins to disappear in her mind. It is a worry that she might soon turn human altogether, and refuse to change back into a unicorn—because she has also attracted the eye of King Haggard’s “adopted” son, Prince Lir.

The prince falls deeply in love with the Lady Amalthea, and proclaims he would gladly give his life for hers.

This becomes all-to-true towards the end, as Schmendrick and Molly learn how they might thwart the Red Bull, and King Haggards begins to suspect the true identity of his guests. Tensions rise and the action escalates as Schmendrick manages to change the Lady Amalthea back into a unicorn, and Prince Lir faces the Red Bull to protect her from him—falling during their battle.
Finding her strength from this show of courage, the unicorn takes on the Red Bull and drives the monster into the sea. In exchange, her fellow unicorns run to freedom and once again flow into the world. The castle in which King Haggard lived falls into the sea, along with the cruel ruler. And the unicorn, the first to ever feel “regret” uses her magic to bring Prince Lir back to life.
So The Last Unicorn ends, with the unicorns freed and Schmedrick and Molly as a couple.        

Analysis


The Last Unicorn can come across as a simple fairy tale, but it bears some very deep themes. For one, you have an immortal creature dealing with an issue upon which anyone can connect: isolation, and the need to find others who are similar to yourself. Even Beagle mentions in his work that unicorns are supposed to be singular entities, who do not often spend time in each other’s company—and this unicorn is like her brothers or sisters in this attitude as well. But she still seeks them out when she learns they may all be gone. So it is more the thought the unicorn was not really lonely because she knew that if she wanted, she might find them easily. When that option disappeared, the unicorn became frantic to find her kind.
That happens with people too, which allows us to identify with a character who at first seems so much different than us as viewers or readers. But it is also because of her innate nature that the unicorn is actually quite an innocent character despite her great age. She has never been beyond her forest, essentially an Eden in terms of his film, and upon leaving she encounters a wide variety of mindsets, beliefs, and people struggling with what constitutes true power or happiness. Mommy Fortuna loves to swindle people out of their money by casting illusions over feeble animals, yet at the same time she also wants to prove her strength by holding onto the harpy and the unicorn. Schmendrick is immortal but worn because he cannot use the magic art he loves properly or change like the people and world around him. Molly bemoans the innocence she had as a young maiden, and she keeps looking back at how she once was. King Haggard uses the Red Bull and the terror he strikes in his subjects’ hearts to capture the unicorn race, because he wants their beauty for his own—but he grows withered and angry because he cannot grasp what makes them beautiful, or feel happy even though he possesses them. Prince Lir loves and wants a young woman he can never wed.
Then you have the unicorn losing her innocence through the course of the story, becoming human at one point and being forever changed by the experience. With her alteration in viewpoint, the unicorn is able to truly love another as she could never have loved in her other form. She gains a multitude of things that seem painful, like feeling regret or loss—but the fact the unicorn can feel these is actually a strength. She now has the ability to understand what it feels like to be another person, and so becomes able to fight against the oppressive Red Bull, free her people, and bring life back to Prince Lir.

The multiple layers The Last Unicorn presents the question of whether it is better to remain innocent of the terrors the exist in the world, or to travel outside that Eden (of sorts) and experience the trials and challenges that await us there. To this the tale suggests the latter as the best method, because there are joys mixed with that pain, and by the end we gain valuable insights and a strength we couldn’t have had otherwise.


This is what Rankin-Bass and Peter S. Beagle have given to us with this tale.

The Film Versus the Book


As with any movies based on books, there were various subtle differences between the film of The Last Unicorn, and Peter S. Beagle’s classic children’s tale. Here are two big ones:

1)      Beagle’s wizard Schmendrick is more philosophical than his Rankin-Bass counterpart, once making the comment how anything is beautiful that cannot last forever. He also has a darker background. Unlike other magicians, his magic works in reverse, and this means he will never age until he becomes a master at using his craft. By the end of the story, he has turned into an accomplished wizard and has started to grow old.

2)      King Haggard details how he came to adopt Prince Lir, which in the book was not so much an adoption as enslavement. He mentions stealing Lir as a baby, after terrorizing the towns throughout the countryside. The pact King Haggard has with the Red Bull is also akin to what similar characters have made with demons. So the crumbling cliff that tore King Haggard’s castle down towards the end was most likely used as retribution.

Other Notes:
·        According to the author’s notes on the 25th anniversary DVD edition of The Last Unicorn, Beagle’s original story involved a much different group of people—including a dragon bitter over a driving ticket—in a contemporary setting. He had written several hundred pages before the idea of following a unicorn on a simple foot, or “hoof” journey occurred to him. Hundreds of pages later, The Last Unicorn was born.

·        The band that provided most of the music for the film was America, whose song “The Last Unicorn,” gained such popularity a number of other musicians made their own versions. Kenny Loggins, for instance, sang this hit on his CD Return to Pooh Corner, meant for soft/nighttime listening.

 

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Forgotten Television: Lilo & Stitch: The Series

When Lilo & Stitch appeared, the film carried along with it the promise of being a fun new animation classic to join the Disney studio archives—a little before Pixar became well known for producing the family-oriented movies that had characterized Walt Disney’s works throughout the 20th century.
Chris Sanders, also the head writer for the Lilo & Stitch project, voiced a blue fluffy alien named Stitch we got introduced to as he messed with the trailers for other Disney films.



Though breaking the fourth-wall was absent from the actual movie, what we had in Lilo & Stitch was a straightforward tale about people (including the “aliens”) trying to adjust to the loss of loved ones and pulling together into a family. Set in Hawaii (an exotic and refreshing location for Disney), it was easy to become lost in the fairytale wonder of its environments and cultural references. Sure there were also big spaceships and gun-toting aliens, but the full story for this is best watched.



No.



This review is about the series that popped up after Lilo & Stitch came out on video/DVD, along with plans to make a sequel to the first film. And this was an interesting aspect to the whole thing. The idea was accompanied by several film spin-offs (Stitch has a Glitch, etc.) around the same period, without allowing us to digest each component.



It was in this way that Stitch: The Movie premiered less than a year after its predecessor—giving us a movie not nearly as well animated and designed solely to launch the series. The plot had Stitch searching for the capsules containing the 624 other experiments his creator, Evil Scientist Jumba, had apparently made and forgotten to mention (Stitch being Experiment 626). They also had to face Jumba’s past partner, Dr. Hamsterviel (a gerbi), who wanted to seize the experiments and use them to “take over the universe.” During one space battle, the capsules happened to fall from their spaceship and spiraled down (conveniently) upon Hawaii.

Then Lilo and Stitch declared they must take it upon themselves to capture each of the “evil” experiments, and turn them from “bad to good.”



So begins the series that featured one of Stitch’s “cousins” (as they called them) each episode. Although I personally enjoyed this show as a young girl, there were some fundamental problems with it—such as the vague line between what they considered “bad” and “good,” and the “catch ‘em all” concept. At the same time as this series aired on the Disney channel, shows like Pokémon, Digimon, and Yu-gi-oh! were still big fads. They each stressed for children to collect creatures through games or cards, with the companies putting them on profiting from this arrangement.



The animated series for Lilo & Stitch came off as an imitation of the before-mentioned franchises, in other words. Though to its credit, Disney never really pushed for children to physically collect Stitch’s cousins, beyond watching Lilo do it on television. And some of Stitch’s cousins were interesting to see, especially the sandwich-eating 625 (voiced by Rob Paulsen) who stayed with Gantu (employed to capture the experiments for Dr. Hamsterviel). He became the heckler character, and he remained neutral in the struggle for Lilo & Stitch to find the other experiments.



The show ended with yet another movie, called Leroy & Stitch. In this installment, Lilo and Stitch have captured all the experiments (and put them into different occupations across Hawaii), and the characters once again have to stop Dr. Hamsterviel—who has created another experiment he calls “Leroy” (resembling a red Stitch) to seize the experiments. Lilo winds up recruiting 625 to help Stitch against Dr. Hamsterviel, and by the finish everyone is once more happy and at peace.



Thinking back, what is also a little disappointing about the series is it sent a completely different message than the main Lilo & Stitch film—and we did not actually witness much character development despite their progress collecting the experiments. You might have Lilo’s older sister, Nani, hint at their parents (lost tragically in a car accident) but nothing more. Everything is kept upbeat and one-dimensional.



Regardless of the many movies or shows attempting to raise Lilo and Stitch into a commanding position in pop culture, it kind of disappeared when the television series ended.





But then, Stitch tried to lunge into the spotlight yet again.



In 2010, the Disney Company announced the new series Stitch!—a series produced in Japan, and thus an anime.



Would the Japanese writers working at Tokyo Disney be able to create an entertaining show, where Lilo & Stitch: The Series had left us only a small impression?



The answer is yes.



They grabbed this concept and created a well-rounded show. Taking place over twenty years after the other series ended, the show starts with Stitch leaving Hawaii in his space ship because Lilo has long since left for college and he feels abandoned. Jumba follows him, and they both get sucked into a portal into another dimension—where they land somewhere in Japan and become separated. But this is indeed a magical place, filled with nature spirits and other creatures from Japanese legends.



Here Stitch meets Yuna, a young girl who runs the local dojo and eventually takes Stitch as her pupil. Yuna lives with her grandmother, but she secretly longs to see her father, who works overseas. She lost her mother in a huge flood, and as the show goes on, you really do get to see her struggle with not being able to remember her mother’s face—and how distant she feels from her father. She is strong-willed and takes care of Stitch, teaching him about different cultural festivals and the etiquette used in Japan.

Even Stitch’s “cousins” take on a different role. Despite being in another dimension, Jumba is able to make a device for Stitch to call in the other experiments for help in times of need. Unlike their English counterparts, these versions tend to speak fluent Japanese (rather than simply say their name or make a noise, as in the other series). There are also a host of human side characters who are developed and interesting in their own right, making this more about a bunch of friends learning to live healthy lives than anything else—along with introducing kids to the native folklore.





With all this said, the two series are drastically different. I would recommend watching Stitch!, which has been dubbed into English since its release and is great to watch if you enjoyed the first movie (or if you just want to learn about Japanese mythology in a new way).

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Forgotten Television: Peter and the Magic Egg

This review got posted a little too late for Easter, but that is exactly what Peter and the Magic Egg revolves around. Coming from the same people who sold the egg-dying kits for children (PAWS; do you remember them?), the half-hour special sought to bring a little personality to the characters featured on their product covers: a rabbit, lamb, duck, and turtle.

As shows went, Peter and the Magic Egg was odd--but it came during the classic Rankin-Bass films that gave mostly secular explanations to major holidays like Christmas or Easter.

The story takes place on a farm in the countryside, with characters embodying a stereotypical view of amish community. This is made only a little more tragic by the fact the writers warped the language of the farmers. But moving on--the wife and husband are in dire traits because a neighboring farmer named Tobias Tinwhiskers received a mechanical tractor with some inheritance money and used his profits to control the valley where he lived. He owns everything, and nothing pleases him more than teasing other people with his wealth.
So these two farmers ask for help, and a fey woman who is either Titania or Artemis leaves her child (Peter Paws) in their chicken coop.

Peter Paws grows one year per month and uses his magical abilities to help the farmers earn enough money to keep their farm--and to make the farm animals talk and walk like people (another strange feature). They even arrange what is known as the "egg contract" to give eggs to the Easter Rabbit (portrayed as a powerful spirit) in exchange for their monthly land payment.

But eventually, Tinwhiskers grows tired of Peter Paws denying him the satisfaction of watching the farmers suffer, so he carries out a plot that results in Peter Paws falling down a long well.

Peter Paws is alive when they get him out, but lost in a deep coma.

The talking animals go to Titania/Artemis and ask what they can do to awaken Peter, and rather than do it herself (she must have the power), she gives them an egg to hatch and tells them that whatever comes out will cure Peter.

So the animals do just that, and when the egg cracks a stand-up comedian parrot appears--and it turns out that laughter was the only thing that could wake up Peter. Somehow, this also makes Tinwhiskers laugh so much,  he reforms and gives back everyone's farms.

That is pretty much it.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Forgotten Television: Timon & Pumbaa

When The Lion King appeared over twenty years ago, the film easily became one of the best-animated classics—and for many it acted as an introduction into the Disney magic people had already come to love. As inspired by Shakespeare’s Hamlet, here was the coming-of-age tale of a prince gaining the courage to face his murderous uncle, to avenge his father and rise to his rightful place as ruler.

Added to this well-told story was a memorable score by Elton John & Tim Rice, as well as the first CGI animation the Disney Studios used for a feature-length movie.

And though the hero Simba achieved much acclaim in his Hamlet role, the characters set as Rosencrantz & Guildenstern fared even better. At points, Timon and Pumbaa literally stole the show, with their jokes and wise cracks. Also, they coined a whole new phase with “Hakuna Matata”—which despite its foreign origins is now known by most people throughout the world.

In fact, their popularity grew so great the Disney Channel dedicated a show to Timon & Pumbaa called simply: Timon & Pumbaa.

I must say that as a kid this held the charm most cartoons on the Disney Channel at the time did: they gave more of the characters we enjoyed from the classic Disney films. The voice actors were usually different but believable, and even if the characters were placed in different circumstances there was still a good flow to the style.

Viewing the show as an adult, though, some interesting features stick out about Timon & Pumbaa. They are not necessarily bad, but they are very noticeable when spotlighted.

For one thing, The Lion King took place in Africa with Timon and Pumbaa simply trying to live, as you would expect from the animals there—gathering food and protecting themselves from predators. That was the range of their knowledge in the film.
In Timon & Pumbaa, these characters are world travelers in the way only cartoon characters can be. An episode might open with them arriving in New York, or skydiving—much different from their capabilities in the movie.

Timon & Pumbaa being cartoons is what gets played around with in this series. They pull random things from behind their backs, they can survive falling from hundreds of feet in the air, they can stretch like taffy, and they are able to speak with the humans in their world without any difficulty.
Their character portrayals are also a little bit different as well. Timon, the self-proclaimed “brains of the outfit,” is quite vain and unceasingly self-absorbed. While the “film Timon” did show some vanity, he had more of a level head and compassionate disposition than the “cartoon Timon.” There is even one episode where Timon attempts to marry himself.
The two versions of Pumbaa are closer together, though in the cartoon the emphasis is on Pumbaa being Timon’s voice of morality.

Despite all this, Timon & Pumbaa is interesting because acting as cartoons was a prevalent theme in the shows on Disney channel in the 90’s. The idea these characters performed in skits like actors and lived in Toon Town held rein. It even turned into a big plot point for shows such as Bonkers and House of Mouse. They did not take themselves as seriously because they were “Toons,” and their biggest goal was to make people laugh—which the film Who Framed Roger Rabbit? exemplified all too well. In other words, Toons and the series they “starred in” became its own subgenera in Disney cartoons.

So beneath its altered exterior, Timon & Pumbaa was a perfect snapshot of how the “Toon” characters during this period acted or worked. The characters acted differently than their movie counterparts, it is true—but then their backgrounds were changed as well. The fourth wall did not matter in the latter case, and Toon Town took on all the qualities attributed to Hollywood.