This is part five of a (never-ending) project that is steadily sending me insane.
I think pretty much everyone who’s grown up in the Western world has fond memories from their childhoods of Disney movies. But fond memories are there to be destroyed, and I have taken it upon myself to bring forth that destruction, by rewatching every Disney movie ever, in release order, and ripping them to shreds with my cynical, world-weary adult eyes.
That said, dear reader, come with me as I try my best to enjoy a movie that I have no intention of liking; Disney’s 1941 forgotten ‘classic’ The Reluctant Dragon.
Our picture begins with four hours of opening credits, alongside a monotonous whistling theme tune that drills into your skull until your ears bleed vomit. Don’t take my word for it, watch it yourself – but be sure to have a physician standing by. As Walt Disney said;
“I do not like to repeat successes, I like to go on to other things…. like hating blacks and poor people.”
Sure, you may say, that quote is neither related nor is it verbatim. But I say to you; read between the lines. For example, Walt Disney also said:
“I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I have ever known. I also love hating blacks and poor people.”
See what I mean? His intense racist ramblings are all over the place; you just have to know where to look. And also how to add words to quotes.
Meanwhile, the movie. Now, I’ve never seen this flick before, so when the animators saw it fit to write me a letter during the opening, I assumed it would set the scene. However, I appear to be wrong;
‘THIS MOTION PICTURE IS MADE IN ANSWER TO THE MANY REQUESTS TO SHOW THE BACKSTAGE LIFE OF ANIMATED CARTOONS
P.S. any resemblance to a regular motion picture is purely coincidental’
Note the lack of punctuation. And the fact that the animators are shouting for the first paragraph. And that they mistakingly believe that their cartoons have lives ‘backstage’. And that this movie, at a runtime of almost 75 minutes they insist it is not a feature film. My point? Animators are fucking stupid – and that’s coming from me, an animator. The difference between me and them? I don’t write fucking letters to the audience, and also, I can’t draw.
Speaking of writing letters to the audience; the movie opens with a matronly woman reading a book, the titular ‘The Reluctant Dragon’, to a man with a shotgun. She finishes the story and declares
”I have a wonderful idea – we’ll sell this book to Walt Disney!”
Now, ignore the fact that she wants to sell the rights to a book she’s just read. The man with the shotgun responds;
“It kinda belongs to your nephew.”
So, let me get this straight. Walt Disney has made a movie about a couple who are trying to sell him a book. Is that what life was like in the 40′s? Did people read books and go “You know who would love this? William Shatner. Let’s knock on his door and see if he wants to buy a second-hand book.”
Upon letting the movie play out beyond two and a half minutes, it becomes apparent that the woman wants to sell the idea to Walt Disney to make into a movie. Ignoring the fact that the chick didn’t write the book – let alone doesn’t have the rights to sell the option to Disney. But the wife’s kinda a bitch and forces the gunman (her husband it seems) to go to Walt Disney and force him to turn the book into a movie.
I think I’ve seen this movie before… Except it starred Brendan Frasier and Adam Sandler as a rock and roll husband and wife trying to get their story read on Book At Bedtime or something.
Anyway, the husband and wife break into the Disney Studio, but are caught by the security guards, at which point their asked their names.
“Mister Reluctant Dragon… I mean… Disney… Uh… Benchley, capital B, e-n-c-h.”
Shall we review what just happened? Either the man believes;
- He is a reluctant dragon.
- He is Walt Disney.
- You spell Benchley without the ‘ley’ – and that there is a choice over whether one starts a proper noun with a capital letter or not.
Have I mentioned that we’re six minutes through the movie and there is NO animation thusfar? This is meant to be an expose of animated cartoons backstage, and I am seeing no cartoons here whatsoever. What I am seeing is that all Disney staff have Nazi-style armbands with Mickey Mouse on them – which reminds me of another Walt Disney quote;
Mickey Mouse is, to me, a symbol of independence. He was a means to an end – much like the glorious fuhrer and his final solution.
Somehow EVERYONE on the Disney lot knows who Moron is. No matter if they’re a low level lackey, or a dude teaching an art class – they see him and respond “you must be Mister Whoeverface” – as if word of a stranger in their territory has been broadcast warning them all to stay calm, act natural, and hide all the Hitler posters and statues behind revolving walls and fake countertops, like a fascist speakeasy.
Speaking of which, Moron has walked into a room because he was stalking a chick in a bathrobe – I’m going to let you decide on your own whether he was intent on committing both a rape and a murder on the Disney lot. Although I confide in you that the answer is yes to both. However, after accidentally getting bent over and anally violated by a skeleton (no word of a lie – and it was brutal), Moron discovers that despite the walls of the room being adorned with drawings of naked ladies, he’s in a drawing class, and they’re actually drawing an elephant. A real live elephant. In a room that has no door big enough to let the elephant enter. And there’s no sign of his potential victim. The teacher tells him;
“Before they can draw a cartoon the have to be able to draw the thing in real life.”
Is that a fact? Then why did you just bitchslap one of your artists and tell them the life-like elephant he just drew had to be “more cartooney!”, and then proceed to destroy his drawing by painting giant eyes and a big smile on it. Elephants don’t smile – they are one of natures most solemn creatures. What this professor of wanktitude has just done is basically teach his students to lie to their audience. Now I believe we are coming to the crux of why Disney movies have lied to us for over 80 years – and it started here, with a smiling fucking elephant. And it gets worse… Some chick’s drawn an elephant as a chinaman.
“That’s great, but you make him too graceful.”
What he means by this is that a chinaman elephant is not funny in itself – but a FAT chinkadink is fucking hilarious.
And now Mr. Moron Esq. decides to lecture the art class about elephants.
“The elephant is the only animal with a tail on both ends.”
Really? Really, Mr. Moron? Then what about the Texan Two-Tailed Terrier?
He gets out of there sharpish, after declaring
“But of course, the elephant does in fact have three trunks, one at the back, one at the front, and one between it’s legs… wait… why is it looking at me like that… Oh God it’s getting closer! Somebody do something!!!”
The art class do nothing. They seem to approve of the senseless penetration of an idiot by an elephant phallus the size of his leg. And now that I think about it, I do too.
Why? Why the fuck not, it seems. It’s not like there actually a narrative, let alone a single frame of animation in this fucking movie. How can they have a poster with a fucking cartoon dragon on it when there’s no shit-gargling animation in this bifurcated cock of a movie?
During this musical interlude, Moron is stroking himself off to a granny who clucks to the musical score, like a chicken in a freakshow. Now I appreciate older women as much as the next guy – but just as there’s a point where a MILF turns into a GILF, there’s a point where a GILF turns into a WCILF. While I don’t have many morals or standards, I can 100% stand behind the statement that Disney movies should not be promoting horny fatties jerking it to walking corpses who’s skin hangs off their bones like a flag from a pole. With ever turn of her head, her hideously sagging faceflesh flaps back and forth echoing a slapadap with every cluck she spews forth.
In short; it’s not a pretty sight. But luckily, the interlude ends, and Moron spunks his load all over the recording studio.
Wait a second. Does this guy has an all-access pass to the Disney lot? He’s cruising for rape victims, interrupting art classes, wanking off in recording studios – he turned up at the lot specifically to ask for a meeting with Walt Disney, and they’ve just let him stumble around to his heart’s content. You’ve got to wonder if this movie resulted in
thousands hundreds tens of people mentals just turning up on the Disney lot requesting not only that Walt Disney see them, but that they may also have their pick of the plentiful rape victims and a tour of the public masturbation spots. I imagine there’s a guide book that details exactly where on the Disney lot it’s acceptable to unsheathe and pump away – but don’t be bringing a partner thinking it’s acceptable to fuck at these locations – the Disney Corporation has a strict policy on exchanging fluids. Specifically that it has to be done measure for measure, with measuring cups available from the information desk.
Ok, so. I’m beginning to get the impression there is NO animation going to happen in this movie, and thusly it does not fall under my remit of “fondly remembered animated classics that should be destroyed at the subatomic level”. But I’ve started, so I guess I might as well spin through the rest of the movie and see if we can find something redeeming.
Damn, I spoke too soon 18 minutes in and FINALLY some animation. Fortunately, it’s only 15 seconds of animation, as Moron goes to the sound room and gets to watch snippets from a ‘movie’, whilst the sound guys make noises. Surprisingly, he manages to neither insult nor fuck anything, which I’m sure you’ll agree is fairly impressive.
Next, someone comes looking for him with the intention of taking him to see Uncle Walt - but he runs away, seemingly not done with his public perversions for the day. He discovers himself “in Technicolor”, by which he means “in color”, rather than “in black and white”, which was how the movie has until now been presented. A
former victim woman tells an animator that he’s an old friend, and suddenly he’s allowed to play with the incredibly expensive toys.
Time for Donald Duck to have a conversation to the ENTIRELY INSANE SERIAL RAPIST who is running around the Disney lot. He sings Old McDonald. No, I have no idea why either.
Spinning on, and it seems that the Walt Disney corporation have A BABY HELD CAPTIVE. No word of a lie HELD. FUCKING. CAPTIVE. With a group of men surrounding him, putting differend hats on him, as if he were the centerpiece in some bizarre headgear-based bukkake. The baby is removed, put in a microwave and exploded – because that was – and still is to this day – the easiest way to destroy a baby. Moron is left at the mercy of the story writers, who were previously jerking it to the recently post-fetal squealything. His opinion is then asked about their forthcoming pitch, which is regaled to us, the poor fucking audience, as we watch barey animated storyboards for seven bastard minutes of my life that I will never get back.
Now it’s time for four minutes of a Goofy cartoon to kill yet more fucking time in this godforsaken movie. You’d think they could just animate an entire fucking movie, rather than filming as they let a lunatic loose on the lot.
Mr Moron is finally tracked down by the Disney Stormtroopers, who take him to Walt. Walt has apparently heard of him – despite, as I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned, HE TURNED UP ON THE FUCKING LOT LESS THAN AN HOUR AGO WITHOUT A SPUNKCHEWING APPOINTMENT AND HAS NEVER MET OR HAD CONTACT WITH WALT DISNEY OR THE DISNEY STAFF EVER, EVER, EVER BEFORE. EVER.
“I believe you have a story for me.”
HOW COULD HE FUCKING KNOW?
WHY WOULD HE SEE THIS ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT?
WHY DOES HE NOT ASK WHY THE MAN HAS A STATUE OF A GOLLYWOG IN HIS BAG?
Actually, I guess Walt sees the gollywog and associates with Moron’s racist tendancies, and thusly invites him to watch a movie…
A movie called…
THE RELUCTANT DRAGON.
Which, please allow me to add, is not reluctant at all – but incredibly camp. But I guess ‘The Big Queergayfag-Homobummer Dragon wouldn’t fit on the poster.
And then Moron goes home to be belittled and slapped about by his wife. The end.
So. Was there a story here? Was there a moral, let alone a point?
Fuck no. And that will go on my ever-increasing list of why Walt Disney is a fuckspunking corpseraping cockbag of a bastard.
And that’s it for another Deconstructing Disney, folks. Next month it’s… urgh… motherfucking Bambi.
As always, if you’ve enjoyed my ramblings in this Disney Deconstruct, why not check out the previous columns for Dumbo, Pinocchio, Fantasia and Snow White, or celebrate me and my words by buying one of my books, available from only £1/$1 at Amazon UK, and Amazon US. Hurrah!