Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (USA, 1937)
Directed by David Hand
Starring Adriana Caselotti, Lucille La Verne, Roy Atwell, Pinto Colvig
The recent release of Mirror, Mirror and Snow White and the Huntsman
makes this the perfect time to re-examine the Disney version of Snow
White, whose success and reputation these films are trying so hard to
emulate. The temptation would be to go in intending to rip the film to
shreds, holding it up as a glorified relic to give the modern versions
of the fairy tale a fighting chance. But for all the cynicism
surrounding Disney (most of which is justified), there is no getting
away from the fact that their first feature-length animation is a
masterpiece.
In an age where fairy tales have been thoroughly
deconstructed, and their positions on gender and sexuality have been
analysed down to the letter, it would be very easy to dismiss Snow White
as outdated, chauvinist claptrap - or to blame it for the arguably
worse, more offensive claptrap that followed. While the film isn't as
overtly limiting in its depictions of women as some of the more recent
Disney offerings, you can make the point that its success set the
template for everything that followed, and therefore it deserves its
fair share of the blame.
If you were incredibly cynical, you
could sum up the story of
Snow White as follows: an icy bitch tries to
kill a prissy brat because she's prettier than her, and apparently looks
count for everything as far as women are concerned. The brat breaks
into the house of seven men who are old enough to be her (grand)father,
becomes domesticated while they do the work, falls for the oldest trick
in the book (being tempted by an apple) and is then given the Vladimir
Lenin treatment. Then, just when all hope is lost, a man whom she barely
knows comes along and saves the day.
All this criticism and
more, from people far better versed than me, holds up to some level of
scrutiny. And Disney's subsequent record leaves them open to accusations
of exploiting and slowly deflowering their first child. And yet, for
all the self-righteous resistance you attempt to put up, it remains
completely irresistible. Whether you view
Snow White as a gigantic
technical leap forward or as a strong and distinctive retelling of the
Grimms' fairy tale, the film still fundamentally works, as a piece of
animation, as a piece of storytelling, and as an outstanding visual
experience.
It's important to understand just how ground-breaking
Snow White was on animation. As I mentioned in my
Peter Pan review, the
film was dubbed "Disney's folly" when first announced. The conventional
wisdom of the time was that the only way to make money with animation
was through shorts: you could produce a large number of them relatively
quickly, allowing you to build up a regular audience, and always had
something in reserve if one of your cartoons fared poorly.
Feature-length animation was a huge financial risk which threatened the
future of Walt Disney as a creative artist. Hence he and director David
Hand were as thorough as possible with the finished product - and it
shows.
By creating a 90-minute cartoon with very high production
values and such relatively large narrative scope, Disney shifted the
goalposts for what animation was capable of doing. While the studio
continued to produce shorts, particularly in the form of US propaganda
during WWII, the emphasis was now on full-length animation which could
compete with the live-action talkies. You may go so far as crediting
Snow White as the first of many breakthroughs in the quest to put
animation on equal footing with so-called 'proper' filmmaking.
If
you choose to ignore the influence of
Snow White on the film industry,
it still holds up as a product of its time. The animation is
outstanding, utilising the technique of rotoscoping to create realistic
physical movements for all the characters. Like
Peter Pan, the majority
of
Snow White was created by filming the actors on partial sets, with
the animators using stills of the actors as a basis for character
construction. Disney's philosophy was always to treat the magical or
fantastical as if it really could happen, and be making the characters
both look and feel human, we settle into the story much quicker than we
might in a more modern, CG effort.
The visuals of the film also
demonstrate the amount of choreography that goes into animation. In an
animated film nothing is improvised or made up on the fly, and
Snow
White feels like it has been worked out to the tiniest detail. That's
not to say that it feels cold or clinical - quite the opposite. The
musical sequences in particular are inventively choreographed to work in
outlandish and hilarious jokes as the physical comedy builds. One of
the best moments in the film finds Dopey playing the drums, and having
multiple sticks run through his sleeves to create a drum roll.
Disney
has often been accused of softening the edges of its subject matter,
with "the Disney version" serving as a pejorative means of defending the
source material. But whatever truth this may hold today, there is still
plenty of genuine darkness in
Snow White, which is both indicative of
the original fairy tale and an intelligent elaboration of it. The scenes
of Snow White running through the creepy trees are every bit as scary
as the Pleasure Island scenes in
Pinocchio or the Pink Elephants in
Dumbo. It's not hard to see what Dario Argento was talking about when he
claimed to have based
Suspiria on this film.
Although it takes
certain liberties with the original fairy tale,
Snow White does retain
some of its substance. The story is at its heart about characters
dealing with jealousy and resentment, contrasting the wicked Queen's
fortunes with those of the dwarfs. The Queen feels threatened by Snow
White's beauty and youth, but also by her popularity, whether with the
birds or with a handsome prince. While most of the dwarfs welcome Snow
White in, Grumpy resents her for poisoning his friends' minds with her
"wicked wiles". While the Queen's spite result in her destruction,
Grumpy manages to overcome his suspicion of women and plays a sizable
role in the rescue.
There are also vague Biblical elements to the
film, which are reflective of both Disney and the German traditions
from which the source emerged. The most obvious element is the poisoned
apple: the Queen is Lucifier, who takes on a more trusting form (the old
woman) and tempts Eve (Snow White) to eat the forbidden fruit in return
for what she truly desires. The Queen's demand to have Snow White's
heart reflects the Devil's desire to remove humanity's capacity for love
and compassion. And of course, the ending in which Snow White comes
back to life is a clear paraphrasing of the resurrection, with the
handsome prince standing in for God.
While none of this imagery
is conveyed in an overly heavy-handed way, it is the music of
Snow White
which guarantees its approachability. 'Whistle While You Work' and
'Heigh Ho' are still infuriatingly catchy, while 'Some Day My Prince
Will Come' is orchestrated with suitable grandeur. Frank Churchill would
later go on to write 'Baby Mine' for
Dumbo¸ while the incidental
composer Paul J. Smith would later work on
Pinocchio and
Bambi. Their
inventive melodies are brilliantly arranged and the lyrics remain
wittily acrobatic.
For all the baggage it carries as part of the
Disney brand,
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs remains the jewel in
Disney's crown after the best part of 75 years. Its ground-breaking
technical work is matched by its breezy storytelling, rich imagery and
the extent of our emotional involvement. Its influence on American film
is vast and various, and on its own terms it still holds up as a
fantastic piece of fantasy filmmaking. In spite of everything you care
to throw at it, however true or justified your complaints, it is still
the fairest in the land.
Rating: 5/5
Verdict: The jewel in Disney's crown (in spite of everything)
Click here to read my earlier Letters of Note post about the naming of the seven dwarfs.
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