D52 Week 18: The Sword in the Stone!

Following the Sleeping Beauty Incident of '59, Disney's animation division wasn't doing so very well. And though Walt could never bring himself to close it outright, for sentimental reasons, it's clear that this was a point where live-action endeavours were what really kept the company alive. It's probably safe to say that one of the most fondly remembered of those films was 1965's Mary Poppins. (One will find that Mary is far bitchier than they might remember; don't worry, however, Dick Van Dyke's British accent is exactly as spotty as you remember.) It's a delightful little tale, even though it's not so much a proper narrative so much as it's a series of small, unconnected adventures with scenes of the kids' dreadfully-boring-but-gradually-improving home lives stuck between them. It's a movie that everybody remembers. Of course, it's not part of this project, so I can't really talk about it.

But, as it turns out, you can say many of the same things about The Sword in the Stone, which nobody really ever seems to remember, sadly.

My initial impression, however, was that this was Walt Disney's attempt to make another animated fairy tale without falling into the same ruinous trap that spawned Sleeping Beauty. From the familiar storybook intro, to the fact that Arthur clearly occupies the bottom rung on his family's ladder only to be helped out by a somewhat senile magical-type person, it almost sounds like Cinderella, if that were actually a pleasant viewing experience. Which, um, I guess would make Arthur almost like a Disney Princess, except that he's a dude and doesn't end up falling in love, though I suppose the Sword (in the Anvil) in the Stone serves a similar purpose to some random deus ex machina prince. (It certainly has every bit as much personality.) But the story itself is far more engaging than those previous "true" fairy tales, almost like a realization from Waltie and his army of flunkies that you, in fact, actually can tell a story in a magical Medieval setting that's more than just a slow-paced rambling prelude to a surprisingly passion-free kiss! (Trying to kiss a sword would probably be wildly unsafe anyway; though not as unsafe as, say, grabbing it by the blade to yank on it or something.)

Not to say that there's really even a single story they were telling here. Though the Sword in the Stone pops up in the storybook intro - that is to say, it appears within a normal storybook, I don't mean to imply that it was a pop-up storybook - it's really not of terribly much consequence to about 90% of the film. Like Pinocchio, it's more of a disconnected episodic story where a bunch of stuff happens to our hero on his loose quest to achieve some end result, an end result we barely spend any time savouring at all. (In Pinocchio's case, it was becoming a real boy; in Arthur's case, it was, um....preventing that storybook intro from being irrelevant to the rest of the film, I guess?) What's the difference between Jesse noting that movies like these are "episodic", and frothily accusing things like Alice in Wonderland of being "thinly veiled package films"? Well, um, I guess it kind of boils down to whether or not I feel the feeling of disconnectedness ruins my good time or not; here, it didn't. Plus, when you factor in the fun and whimsical Sherman Brothers songs as well, one suspects that the episodic structure has a purpose. This feels like a deliberate attempt to make a quality "My First Arthurian Fantasy" for the little ones, doesn't it?

I think it's those very same Sherman Brothers songs - their first for a Disney animated future - that make my mind link this overly strongly with Mary Poppins. Yes, the structure is clearly similar. Yes, both of them feature a magical housecleaning bit. Yes, both of them have their weird, random moments of gloominess. (I genuinely feel a little sad for the adorable redheaded squirrel, and the squirrel-beaver hybrid, too.) But it's those songs that really drive it home, as there's always something rather distinctive about their songwriting work. And, indeed, things would've been a lot less entertaining without their contributions. Can you imagine sitting through the swimming lesson with Fish Merlin* in a non-musical form and not falling asleep? I, for one, cannot! At least that sequence would've still had Archimedes and his daring rescue going for it, though. Did we really need to spend so much time doing little more than watching cartoon squirrels scurry around just to justify one poignant moment of soul-crushing squirrel sadness, with soul-crushing squirrel tears? I would, of course, NEVER abandon my beloved redheaded girl squirrel like that.

The one segment strong enough to have worked even without Sherman intervention, I figure, was Merlin's transformation battle with Madam Mim. Now THAT was good! It's fun and creative and fast-paced, almost to the point of seeming like it was dropped in here from some other movie. I mean, yeah, when Arthur first meets her and she transforms into Sexy Madam Mim, that's something I....I would've been content going the entire rest of my life without seeing. That was friggin' HORRIFYING. But everything else was great fun! Probably one of the most purely fun set pieces they've produced, actually, aided by the particularly sketchy animation they were really fond of in the 60s, lending it a sense of fluidity and elasticity that Disney animation just doesn't usually have. (Except for Sexy Madam Mim.) In fact, to end the comparison I've been forcing since the beginning of this hastily put together piece: This sequence is better than anything in Mary Poppins, anything at all. When Disney reused this structure a couple years later, it was an inferior effort, because it lacked anything as lovely as this. (Except for Sexy Madam Mim. NOBODY would think she's lovely.)

(Though, it IS strange that animal transformations are the one type of spell Merlin doesn't really seem to need to recite any silly magical words for....except for the hare which DOES require it I guess?)

It's always hard to settle on one definitive opinion for any film like this, though. There's one really quite good sequence I'd love to rewatch! But the rest of it is merely okay, in a mostly aggressively gentle way that, goes down easy enough the first time, but that would probably become completely tedious on a second viewing. Archimedes helps, of course! He's amusing enough that I forgive him even for his eye-rolling "who" joke that any and all talking owls are legally required to make! They should've made the whole damn movie about that awesome li'l owl! But I digress. Does one rewatchable bit outweigh the non-rewatchable bits? Well, I suppose that's why they invented fast-forward and chapter select and stuff. No matter what, it's clear to me that I'd probably recommend checking this out. It's not even close to being the best piece of King Arthur-related entertainment you could possibly encounter, no, but it's still at least pleasant enough in its slowest bits. The first time, anyway.

...except for Sexy Madam Mim.

TERRIBLE AND UNNECESSARY AND TERRIBLE DIRECT-TO-VIDEO-AND-DISNEY-DVD-AND-ALSO-BLU-RAY SEQUEL CONCEPT OF THE WEEK: The Sword in the Stone IN THE FUTURE follows up on the film's incredibly lame ending, as Merlin whisks Arthur forward through time, into the dazzling futuristic future of the present day, where they oversee a film adaptation of his life. Unfortunately, everyone working on it is putting together an extremely shoddy production, because they're all just terrible people! Arthur quickly takes the actor they hired to play him (played by, let's say, Roshon Fegan or something) under his wing, teaching him that just as Arthur deserved better than the way he was treated as Sir Kay's squire, he deserves better than stooping to starring in this second-rate production. Though initially reluctant, he soon realises that Arthur was right and quits the film, chastising everyone involved in the production, via an extended rap number, for producing such an embarrassing and downright insulting adaptation of Arthurian lore. Via an extended rap number.






*He would be named Marlin, of course!