ROCK-A-DOODLE (1990-color)
The Short Story: A child enters a magical world of cartoon animals to rescue his family from a flood, believing that the only thing that can save them is a story-book singing rooster who can make the sun to rise.
The Details:
I've noticed a tendency among internet critics to be rather harsh on animator/producer/director Don Bluth. While I admit styles and aesthetics of animated films prompt different levels of affection from viewers, I remain puzzled over the almost universal disdain this crowd has toward the lush technical beauty and magic so often found in Bluth's work.
And that there may partly be the problem. Disney was noted for strong characterizations as well as technical accomplishment, with stories that captivate and prompt deep emotional connection from the viewer. Bluth's films, like those of earlier Disney employee-turned-independent producer Ub Iwerks, often place technical proficiency above character and story. The frequent result is beautiful, technologically complex animation with heart but little emotional meat.
Bluth was an animator at Disney in the 70's. Tiring of working for producers lacking Walt's imagination and abilities, Bluth and a number of animators left the Mouse to form their own animation studio. Their first major big screen work was a short segment of the bizarre musical XANADU. In the early 80's, though, their long-in-production science fiction fantasy THE SECRET OF NIMH finally hit theater screens and enchanted audiences with it's bold and imaginative visual style. This story of super-intelligent rodents secretly living on a rural farm wasn't a boxoffice titan, but it was well-received and developed a following of loyal supporters.
The film convinced some video game producers to hire Bluth and his team to create line-art visuals for the arcade game Dragon's Lair (followed by a sequel game and the space opera Space Ace), which is cited as saving the arcade game industry from collapse. The rest of the 80's saw Bluth creating some of the most popular animated films of the era, including the immigration drama/comedy musical AN AMERICAN TAIL and the dinosaur adventure THE LAND BEFORE TIME. Of course, Disney wasn't creating a lot of competition during this period. All that changed in 1989 when THE LITTLE MERMAID became a massive hit that re-established Disney as the giant of animated movies. (Earlier in the decade, the Mouse tried to copy the then-popular Bluth aesthetic with THE BLACK CAULDRON, a boxoffice dud which promptly faded from view.)
The 90's saw a slide for Bluth. Popular films like ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN quickly gave way to misfires like our current subject. The decade ended with the lavish, Disney-esque CinemaScope musical ANASTASIA. Though a great film (and a financially successful one), it didn't prevent the studio's eventual fade from view (although it did sire a charming direct-to-video prequel/spinoff, BARTOK THE MAGNIFICENT), and the 21st Century found Bluth reduced to a bit of a footnote as trends moved away from traditional animation into all-digital. Back in the early 90's, though, Bluth was still a force to be reckoned with...
ROCK-A-DOODLE seems partly Bluth's answer to WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT, with it's mixture of live-action and cartoon animation within the context of a story focused on showbiz and the inclusion of a cheesecake character. The film is largely a play on the life of Elvis Presley, though this is one of those strange musicals where the songs are almost exclusively background noises and the characters are allowed to chatter during their play. This remains true both when a musical number is in the context of a stage performance and when a song is done in the surreal out-of-nowhere frame of traditional musicals. Even so, there's enough charm here that the picture sort of works even though it seems unfinished most of the time. This is largely due to the incredible voice cast assembled to play our protagonists.
Most prominent is Phil Harris, who established himself a fixture with child audiences voicing jolly, rough-and-tumble bears for Disney in both THE JUNGLE BOOK and ROBIN HOOD. Of course, adults knew him for so much more, from playing conceited sidekick to Jack Benny to recording novelty tunes like "The Thing" and "That's What I Like About The South." This was his final film role. Shortly after, he was hired to voice Baloo the bear in the Saturday morning cartoon series Tail Spin. He did one recording session but his voice was shot and he had to be replaced. ROCK-A-DOODLE, therefore, is kind of a send-off for one of the great performers of the 20th Century. Happily, Phil even provides a tune for the end credits: "Just Like Tying Your Shoes." This may not be his best work, but it is charming and it's timeless qualities are enhanced by back-up vocals from the Jordanaires -Presley's back-up vocal group from the glory days.
In addition, the film sports such made-for-animation voices as Sandy Duncan, Eddie Deezen, and Charles Nelson Reilly. Ellen Greene, using a breathy voice similar to the one she used in LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS, is the sexy chorus girl who comes to love our animated hero voiced by actor and country crooner Glen Campbell. Christopher Plummer is the villain.
Things open in outer space, setting a tone of celestial beauty and lurking menace as narrator Harris notes how the world once came near ruin because the sun didn't rise. This leads to our introduction to singing rooster Chanticleer. This introduction shot is really impressive for animation buffs, featuring as it does swirling camera movements and pans which take us from high over the farm to mere inches from Chanticleer's face. He's belting out the first song of the picture, "Sun Do Shine."
Chanticleer is a barnyard rooster tasked only with bringing up the sun by crowing each morning. The rest of his time is spent singing to the delight of the other animals. Harris is Patou, an aging hound dog still learning to tie his shoes (which he wears due to a nasty case of bunions). Patou will be our host for these events, and in this block of narration notes that the genial Chanticleer wasn't the brightest fella, but was blessed with a powerful singing voice.
Since Chanticleer is so closely tied to the rising sun, this puts him at odds with the creatures of the night -specifically the Grand Duke of Owls. One early morning, the Duke sends a henchman to tussle with Chanticleer. Chanticleer wins the fight, but the scuffle has lasted long enough for the others to see the sun come up before being called forth by Chanticleer's crowing. Chanticleer is labelled a fake and becomes disillusioned as the other animals laugh at his expense. He hangs his head and leaves the farm as the sun pulls back and sets again. The sun out of the picture, torrential rains begin to flood the farm, much to the delight of the Grand Duke.
Pulling back, we find this yarn has been the subject of a storybook a young mother is reading to her child, Edmond. The first mingling of fantasy and reality is intoned when Edmond points to the Duke's picture and we see the glass of the owl's monocle crack. Weirdly, though Edmond seems to be well familiar with this story, he keeps asking his Mom about the characters and events. When Dad rushes in, he notes that trouble is close and he needs Mom's help. She quickly puts Edmond to bed, but as is so often the case, Edmond remains wide awake. He's also upset over the fact that he isn't able to physically help his family in the manner that his older brothers can.
The master plan of the Duke seems to've spilled back into reality, as flood waters are rising around the farm where Edmond's family struggles to stack sandbags. His parents in danger of being swept away by the rising river, Edmond begins loudly calling for Chanticleer to intervene. A claw-shaped tree-branch is broken loose by a lightning strike and crashes into the house and destroys the room. Edmond survives, but is taken aback to find his cries for help have been answered by the wrong party.
The Duke steps into the room, stating his anger with Edmond for breaking his monocle. "You stuck your finger in the Duke's face." More to the point, the Duke is angered that, after all the trouble it took to get Chanticleer off the farm, someone has had the nerve to try to call him back. Magical forces spewed forth by the Duke transition us back into the world of animation as the real world laps back into the fantasy world of Edmond's book. The Duke prefers his meals even smaller and more helpless than Edmond, so the owl uses his magic to transform Edmond into a cartoon kitten. Edmond's life is saved when Patou rushes in and clamps onto the Duke's leg.
The Duke retreats when Edmond grabs a flashlight, much to the relief of Patou. Owls in this universe are so light sensitive that they blast away from a flashlight as if sucked out of an airlock. Edmond discovers his condition ("I'm all furry!"), notices that he's now naked, and quickly clothes himself in the buckskins worn by one of his dolls. He then finds himself falling victim to instinctive feline behavior like licking himself and wanting to hunt mice, however this tendency quickly passes and not much else comes of it. What remains a fact is that Edmond is still diminutive. So much so now that he doesn't think he can help anyone in the shape he's in.
The rising waters bring other storybook animals up to Edmond's room, chiefly spunky mouse Peepers and her antagonistic friend/foe Snipes the magpie. Edmond is convinced the only thing that will save the farm is Chanticleer crowing to raise the sun. Chanticleer has left for The City, though, and his whereabouts are unknown to his now remorseful friends. The flood waters now reach the upper floor and all must take refuge on anything that floats. Using a toy chest as a boat, Edmond sets out to reach the city and find Chanticleer. Patou, Peepers, and Snipes join the expedition, as the other animals collect in the remains of Edmond's room and huddle for protection on a floating bed. The flashlight will protect them from the hungry owls.
As our heroes take off in "the USS Toybox" we find the Owls back at the Duke's secret lair. The increasingly bad weather is due mostly to their machinations. In what seems to be a combination of science and magic, gloomy clouds are released into the atmosphere by a gigantic pipe organ. Some sort of vague electrical apparatus is also employed. The scene offers a little number which establishes the motives of the owls before we're introduced to Hunch, the Duke's tiny nephew. Though gung-ho about his work, Hunch* is about as effective as a villain as a cotton ball is dangerous.
(* Actually, he seems to be called by several names throughout. I can't be sure if it's Hunch, Dunch, or Punch.)
Still, Hunch and his fellow hench-owls attempt to stop Edmond and the gang from reaching The City. They succeed in detouring the makeshift boat into an aqueduct pipe, but this of course only sends them straight to the outskirts of The City. The journey through the pipe, however, is fraught with peril as Snipes reveals himself to be claustrophobic and in his panic pecks the toybox full of holes which let water spill in. Still, it ends with our heroes alive and well and gazing upon the metropolis. We notice that it isn't raining over the city, and it's later established via a newspaper headline that the rains are mysteriously limited to the farmlands.
Hunch reports his victory to "Uncle Dukie" and sharp-eyed viewers may spot a continuity jump in this scene. Apparently shot was a short sequence in which the Duke places a living baby skunk into the contents of a pie before baking it! As the film now exists, we can get a glimpse of what could be the cage containing the animal as the scene opens in long shot. As we cut closer, the cage is gone and the Duke is working on the crust of the pie. The story goes this scene was removed not for it's nightmarish depiction of predation, but because a recent report had established that most cases of child abuse occur in the kitchen. What one thing really has to do with the other is something of a mystery.
At any rate, Hunch learns of his mistake and is ordered to follow our heroes into the city and kill them before they can reach Chanticleer. A pair of sunglasses will protect the diminutive bird of prey from the big city lights.
In the city, the good guys are unable to locate Chanticleer, although he isn't as far from them as they imagine. His hair dyed black, Chanticleer has become The City's biggest singing star as The King. The gang finds themselves sitting right in front of the theater he's currently playing! (And here we get the actual "Rock-A-Doodle" song, as the King dances around a massive stage made to look like a record player. Too bad we hear so little of it, as it recalls the Elvis numbers of the 50's rather effectively.)
The King is escorted from the building by a group of bodyguards who prevent anyone from getting close to the obviously depressed star. This prevents Edmond from getting Chanticleer's attention, but it also thwarts Hunch's assassination attempt. The gang will have to catch the King at another performance. Edmond also calls the farm to find the animals there are in danger of being eaten by the Duke and his goons the moment the batteries in the protective flashlight finally die out. Fortunately, some replacement batteries are dug up this time around.
Though highly successful as an entertainer, The King feels lonely. His manager, Pinky (in cahoots with the Grand Duke) seeks a method of keeping the King in line -as the Duke makes it clear that it's best for all parties if Chanticleer remains in the city. The adoring public and their excited chants are small consolation for the lack of actual friendship, and the King continues to sulk.
Pinky's answer is sexy singer Goldie Pheasant, who has taken the King's arrival in bad spirits and believes the spotlight is rightfully hers after having worked her way up from the chorus (though somewhat peripheral, I think the idea is that Goldie was about to headline, but the King's arrival has pushed her back into the chorus line). Pinky knows that Goldie can keep Chanticleer's mind occupied, and talks her into wooing The King in exchange for sharing his spotlight. Though self-concerned when we first met her, Goldie does have a caring nature and desire to do what's right. Pinky uses this and convinces her that Edmond and his friends are seeking to do the King ill. Reluctantly, Goldie agrees to decoy the King's attention away from what she believes to be a villainous kitten.
Pinky also releases a notice that no dogs, cats, birds, or mice be allowed into a theater where the King is playing. A quick-thinker, though, has been renting out penguin costumes to dogs, cats, birds, and mice who want to see the show. (Wouldn't penguins fall under the "bird" classification anyway?)
We catch up to our heroes just before the King is due to hit the stage. They're wearing penguin suits, and Snipes has discovered the joys of lasagna. Edmond and the gang write a letter to Chanticleer and try to find a way to get it to him during the act. Edmond shapes the letter into a paper airplane, but it gets stuck on one of the props moving about the stage. Also, the gang's cover has been blown and Pinky's thugs chase them onto the stage.
There's so much going on here that much of this particular music number -"Treasure Hunting Fever"- is lost in the commotion. That's a shame, since this number is one of the best recorded for this movie, very evocative of the Presley numbers we used to hear in his 60's movies. Given a nautical theme, the stage is set like a sunken ship. The prop which snags the paper airplane is a glittery shark which circles the stage on a mobile with three other prop sharks. The back-up singers are dressed as starfish. They really go all out here, but as noted the song is largely lost in the goings on.
Edmond manages to get the letter literally into Chanticleer's hand as the number finishes. Before the King can read it, though, Goldie marches out and vamps him. Her short little song* keeps with the nautical theme: "Deep, deep, the trouble you're in./I've thrown you to the sharks, and you can't swim." Goldie grabs the letter away from Chanticleer as our heroes look on in despair. They'll have to try again.
(*Actually, these are only the first lines of a full song that was recorded for the film, entitled "Sink Or Swim." For some reason, though, the tune wasn't used. Too bad, as it was a catchy little number which was basically a solo for Ellen Greene.)
Chanticleer has a pad atop a skyscraper, a little farm house structure complete with a rather dangerous-looking swing. Perched there, Goldie and the King get better acquainted. The closest our heroes can get is the roof of the next building over, and they yell to get Chanticleer's attention, but Chanticleer only has eyes and ears for Goldie. Fortunately for all involved, Goldie falls in love with Chanticleer for real.
Edmond decides "If I can't talk to him, I'll talk to her" and sneaks onto the film studio where Goldie is about to co-star opposite the King in the first feature of a six picture deal with Pinky. Edmond finds Goldie in her trailer, but she still believes what Pinky told her and chases Edmond out. The farm animals are netted by Pinky before Goldie realizes she's made a mistake. Between takes on the set, Goldie tells the King what's up, even producing the letter she took from him "the night we first met." Chanticleer is at first upset by Goldie's betrayal, but he quickly sees that Pinky is holding the cards. Pinky threatens to give a bad time to Chanticleer's friends if he doesn't cooperate and finish the movie. "That's blackmail!" Chanticleer shouts. "That's showbiz!" Pinky counters.
Prior to the camera rolling, with the two of them seated on a motorcycle, Goldie tries to apologize, but the King isn't wanting to hear it right now. "Be quiet," he rather harshly tells her, "I'm thinking." Chanticleer asks Goldie where the hostages are, which turns out to be Pinky's opulent trailer. Seeing the open stage door, Chanticleer tells Goldie to hang on and they both escape by driving the motorcycle off set.
In Pinky's trailer, the gang has been tied up. Hunch attempts to take advantage of this and kill them while they're at his mercy, but a series of Roger Rabbit-like accidents find Hunch in considerable pain and the potential victims free. Unfortunately, Patou brains Chanticleer with a frying pan when the characters catch up to each other. "Oh no, I've killed him!" Chanticleer's alive, but must be dragged into the back seat of Pinky's monstrous modified Cadillac. As Goldie tends to the King, the others start the car and attempt to flee. Pinky and his gang are in hot pursuit, chasing them all across the movie studio.
Peepers tries to get Edmond to use his cat abilities to crawl down to the trailer hitch and release the gigantic trailer. Edmond doesn't think he can do it, however, and Peepers does it herself. She succeeds, but is carried away by the trailer as it crashes into the studio's water tower. Edmond turns the car back to find her. This results in Pinky's goons chasing our heroes up the water tower.
When the tower starts to collapse, Pinky's helicopter flies in and catches the falling characters. It's Peepers at the controls, and the gang heads back to the farm. Once there, the copter's spotlights save the rest of the animals from being devoured by the owls. Hunch makes a final attempt to make good the assassination of the animals and sets off another accident which ends in the copter crashing to earth.
Our heroes manage to reach safety, having escaped the crash and finding footing on an island. Chanticleer finally comes out of it (the rain washes the black out of his hair during this), and is given a quick rundown of why he needs to crow. Chanticleer, though, has forgotten how to crow. "I don't know if I ever did." he admits. The Duke delights in hearing this, and uses some magic to torment Chanticleer further. Using a ghostly manifestation of a clown hammer, the Duke drives Chanticleer into the ground like a tent spike.
Edmond chants our hero's name in an effort to raise Chanticleer's spirits, which causes the Duke to attack him. When it appears Edmond has died, Patou begins to lead the other animals in the chant of Chanticleer's name. The Duke responds by using his powers to grow into a colossus, in the process pinning Chanticleer underwater. Although it isn't clear what makes this possible (possibly only the knowledge that he's loved), Chanticleer finally recalls his abilities and bursts off like a skyrocket (he too seems to've gotten some magical aid, if the sparks of glowing red light around the hole he's trapped in are anything to go by). Crowing as he circles the Earth, Chanticleer indeed calls forth the sun and the Duke is badly injured when he's struck by a bolt of sunlight. His magical powers backfire and he's reduced to a pathetic little bird the previously much put-upon Hunch now towers over.
As Hunch chases the former kingpin of evil into the distance, the sun comes out and immediately causes the waters to recede and the buds to bloom. The animals gather around Edmond's lifeless body as he regains his human form, and all are sad that they can do nothing for him.
As you might expect, though, Edmond awakes to find himself back in his (live-action) room. The sun is out and the family is repairing their farm. Edmond asks his mother where Chanticleer and the gang made off to, and Mom tries to explain to him that it's just a storybook. Knowing better, when left in his room, Edmond again speaks to Chanticleer by holding up the book. If the following is a dream sequence or Edmond being physically brought into the storybook animated world again, it isn't clear.
What we see though is live-action Edmond having the time of his life on the animated farm as Chanticleer belts out his signature song "Sun Do Shine." In this instance, we actually get to hear the full song without interruption. Some little scenes here and there include Snipes and Peepers getting along, Patou finally learning to tie his shoes, and Goldie having joined the animals on the farm (and given some particularly adorable farm duds). Also in evidence, though I didn't notice until about my 20th viewing, are a pair of chicks clearly meant to be the offspring of our romantic leads, so this is about a year or two later in the cartoon timeline... We fade out and discover that the credits last something like nine and a half minutes! For the original VHS release, these credits were sped up to make them shorter -though at the loss of some nice exit music (and the end music doesn't fade out, either, it just stops when the movie does). More recent releases have restored this sequence to it's original length.
Though undeniably charming, amusing, and fun, the fact remains that ROCK-A-DOODLE is one weird movie. Admittedly, it negates some issues with it's it-must-have-been-a-dream ending. This certainly helps some elements if they're just dreams, such as the overlap of animated animals into the real world, the highly-stylized city, Edmond's recurring feeling of helplessness due to his small size and overcoming of it, etc. Of course, we're talking about a children's movie about a rooster that sings like Elvis Presley, so I don't know how much thought we're really supposed to put into it!
Live action and animation had been combined effectively into a feature film* at least as far back as Walt Disney's utterly delightful (though mysteriously maligned) musical SONG OF THE SOUTH in 1946. Other prominent examples include MARY POPPINS, BEDKNOBS AND BROOMSTICKS, and WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT. Most all of those remained focused in the live-action world with detours into majority-animation segments. ROCK-A-DOODLE reverses this by sticking mostly to the animated world with two live-action segments more or less bookending the story. This makes some sense, as Bluth was primarily an animator, and this was his only live-action directorial work (which he only took over because the slated director for the scenes never arrived on set!). Indeed, the live-action scenes show a cleanness and directness which go straight to the point. Though brief, the sequences hit their marks.
(* Of course, animation had been mixed with live action in short subjects. An early success for Walt Disney was a series of cartoons based on Through The Looking Glass in which a live-action little girl was shot against a white background and combined with animated Wonderland characters. And of course, Betty Boop and Koko the Clown had interacted with their live-action creators. Most every cartoon star mixed with live-action footage at one point or another, from Daffy Duck to Popeye the Sailor.)
The opening storm scene, with the over-flowing river washing away sandbag levees and endangering Edmond's family, is expertly precise -as is the evocative brief glimpse we get of the storm's aftermath through Edmond's window. When we transition from Edmond's dream back into reality, we're treated to a flawless in-camera effect using a bright red light and quickly-fading smoke. It looks simple enough, but similar effects in much more expensive movies have required rather more effort and teams of effects artists armed with the best optical (or in more recent cases, digital) equipment. Adding to how impressive this shot is, the camera is also moving: pulling back from a close up of Edmond's face as it pans around to take in the rest of the room and show Mom enter.
As an animated film, the visuals are quite beautiful, beginning with the Disney-esque sun-drenched farmland and transitioning to the bright lights of the big city as rendered in a retro-modern design sense which recalls the experimental animation Disney was doing in the 50's, as well as some work Chuck Jones was doing in the 60's. The color schemes are bold and vibrant, and the animation smooth and accomplished. As is typical of Bluth's work, lighting effects are expertly pulled off.
The animators also do an impressive job of depicting characters of varying size working together. Patou dwarfs Peepers, but the group interacts comfortably without the smaller figures ever getting lost in the action -which must've been a challenge for the overall designers of the picture. The character design is rooted in traditional cartoon animal aesthetics, with some animals more resembling their real-life counter-parts than others. Most are more exaggerated forms which wear clothing (sometimes only a collar or vest, sometimes an elaborate dress or suit). All assemble comfortably (although the more animal-like animals seen in the first reel are missing from the main action) and perfectly fit the voices given them.
Goldie Pheasant in particular is an impressive invention, as Bluth's team has managed to create an attractive female character who happens to have a beak. Even if she tends to look better when in motion than when seen in still form, Goldie is a noteworthy accomplishment. Pretty female cartoon characters are often challenging, particularly if the features of the animal being anthropomorphized are too far removed from those of a human being. Mammals with short snouts tend to work best when creating a female character the audience should accept as classically beautiful. That these guys could do it with a bird is doubly impressive, and done mostly by limiting her avian features to her face and a feathery tail. Her body is a streamlined depiction of a human form, and two reference models are credited. A rather huge ponytail and bangs add to the cutesy aspect. Greene's vocalizations (small, child-like, yet breathless and cooing) certainly aid the design. Word has it she was considered a little too sexy during the test screenings and Bluth was required to tone down Goldie's cleavage.
If Goldie was made to work by making her body as human as possible, the other characters remained more firmly rooted in the animal kingdom. The roosters occasionally take flight, their arms morphing into wings which reshape themselves when the characters are back at rest. Snipes wears gloves, but his wings are fully wings. All other birds have wings with dominant feathers approximating fingers. Most of the animals are designed cartoon-style, though Patou seems to've been modeled on a real dog much of the time.
As a villain, the Grand Duke of Owls is a suitably menacing figure, if somewhat under-developed. We never learn very much about him, beyond his gleeful villainy and dry sense of humor. He does show some smarts in employing multiple schemes simultaneously, and he's constantly active. In between threat sessions, we see him baking a pie, doing needlepoint, and noodling on the pipe organ. His magical manifestations appear to be occult in nature, though not overtly so, and this holds to themes long a tradition in animated films.
Animated films as we know them were born in the 30's, and as such reflected the times. A wave of revival was spreading across the States in defiance of the harsh conditions of the Depression (and as is usually the case during a period of revival, the era saw a great pop interest in spiritualism and general mysticism, Egyptology in particular was still hot). It was a time when average Americans were admittedly spiritual and Church was one of the main family activities. Americans also engaged in gallows humor which included depictions of good and evil. Movie producers at the time were more interested in playing to average American audiences, since they were the ones buying tickets. The result was that evil characters in cartoons were a bit more blatant about the source of their evil, and evil powers. Though much watered down, this tradition remains a subtextural element in children's films.
One sign here is that magic vapors contain depictions of tiny stars and planets, though this was reportedly done because Bluth felt children would find solid colors in these manifestations a touch too disturbing and the astronomical shapes helped defuse that. More on point is when the Duke puffs some magical vapors at Patou and they take the shape of winged demons.
Within the animated segments, characters are never depicted as human, though they act like it. The city is populated by humanimals of every species imaginable, most keeping their relative sizes (the one exception here are the henchman frogs, who tower over most everybody else). As is often the case, this works better the less one thinks about it. Though based in the animal kingdom, most of these characters are but depictions of human beings. Countering this, the farm animals are by and large completely animals -the line between more humanoid and more traditional creatures being less defined the closer we get to civilization.
The timeline depicted here is, at best, problematic. The events occurring on the farm seem to happen over the course of hours, those in the city over several days. From the time we catch up to Chanticleer, having quickly achieved fame as a singer, he does several shows, meets Goldie, woos her and falls in love, is signed to a motion picture contract, and begins filming before he returns to the farm. Possibly this is intentional, reinforcing the dreamworld aspect of all this. When she confesses to the King, Goldie notes "the night" they first met and indicates the passage of several days at the least. The animals huddled in Edmond's room hang on long enough to drain the power from two flashlight loads of batteries in continuous use, but that would be a full 24 hour day at the most, would it not? It'd be rather depressing to think of the group spending that long cowering on a floating bed in a flooded room.
I'd never pieced it together, but there are those who think the film is meant to be a period piece. The only real indication* of this that caught my eye was an antiquated radio seen during the opening live action segment. I always figured the film was going for a timeless feel by adopting a lot of 50's designs and elements, like Pinky's heavily modified 1959 Cadillac. While there are a lot of retro aesthetics here, nothing really screams Period Piece. (The poster above, though, does have a 1959* license plate in clear view.) This is probably because there are plenty of generic items (like clothing) that fit fully within the late 80's production period. The live-action segments are set on a rural farm, and as such we don't expect to look overly modern. Certainly Edmond's storybook looks like it were printed a lot closer to 1990 than 1959. And there are bits of technology spread throughout the film that suggest a more modern era as well, no matter how many 50's-style television sets we see. Ultimately, it doesn't matter if it's a period piece or just carries a timeless aesthetic that plays to nostalgia. It has no bearing on the story itself (*I can now confirm, however, that the cartoon events do indeed take place in 1959, as the date on a newspaper establishes. It's an easy detail to miss).
(* During the chase across the studio lot, the vehicles pass through a Colosseum set meant to recall the main setpiece of BEN-HUR, which was released in '59. Again, though, this doesn't seem designed to establish an actual date.)
The King's night club performances were done on massive and complex stage sets. One was made to look like the interior of a giant jukebox, another like the bottom of the sea. During these numbers, the King is always in motion -spinning around poles and swinging from ropes and the like. What we see of the filming of the King's movie is by contrast very small scale, with a motorcycle stationary on a treadmill in front of a very shabby revolving background drape. If this is supposed to be significant, I'm not sure how. Pinky is paying for both, and expecting massive returns in each case. Why splurge for a stage show and skimp on a movie guaranteed to be a blockbuster?
In terms of Bluth's film, why hire Glen Campbell to record a number of songs which we don't really get to hear? This is particularly problematic for the scene where Goldie and the King court each other while seated on a swing high atop a skyscraper. The number "Kiss And Coo" appears to be a fairly complex and subtle piece, a duet between Campbell and Greene which explores both characters' changing attitudes. Thing is, only about three lines remain audible minus distraction. Harris narrates over the sequence, largely laying out the same information. And when Harris isn't narrating, his character is explaining to Edmond what's going on! This seems to be a rather beautiful number, but it's almost completely buried!
There was a soundtrack album released in 1992, the year of ROCK-A-DOODLE's US release. I guess these albums are pretty rare, but the full cuts of the various songs are included there (right down to a couple of short bits like the song the club bouncers recite). There, one can fully appreciate the care that went toward creating the classic Presley sound in Glen Campbell's numbers. A shame these disks are so hard to get.
The film passed through theaters quickly (though a younger version of myself did happen to catch the film on the big screen), the first Bluth film in a long time to tank. The film did slightly better on home video, but even then it remained largely overlooked. Unless it was frequently shown on UHF stations, I don't recall it getting just a ton of play on television. I didn't see it again until it popped up on one of the movie channels about ten years ago. Obviously taken from the DVD source, the airing was scope, and it's the one I taped and still have.
The film marked the beginning of a slide that Bluth's studio was never quite able to stop (though a brief upswing was granted by the success of ANASTASIA, Bluth's glory days had sadly passed with the coming of a new century -a condition I take no delight in noting). Part of the problem may be that ROCK-A-DOODLE feels so rushed. Running 77 minutes (and the last reel or so of that was credits), it feels more like 50. We basically hit the ground running, explain very little, and rush from one scene to the next. Reportedly, Phil Harris' narration was added last minute to help fill in some of the gaps. (Thus giving me mixed feelings, since it would've been nice to hear the songs minus the narration, but on the other hand it's wonderful to spend more time with Phil.) The film's failure is evident in the lack of any direct to video sequel or spin-off.
Just the same, the film is wildly entertaining and emotionally satisfying. (The moment where Patou begins to chant Chanticleer's name as the freshly struck-down Edmond had been doing, has full emotional charge.) One wishes the film had been a little less rapid, and taken a minute or two to really soak in what's presented to us. Mostly, one wishes the musical numbers would've been better exploited. If the idea is to do a play on Elvis movies of the 50's and 60's, ROCK-A-DOODLE overlooks completely that the whole point of those films was to showcase Elvis singing. Glen Campbell provides some very evocative tunes (aided no end by vocal accompaniment by the Jordanaires), but we hear little of it through all the voice overs. The one song we do hear uninterrupted, "Sun Do Shine" is relentlessly catchy.
In the end, a fun (if obscure and very strange) animated film that breezes by and leaves one feeling good. Not much logic, of course, and it's tragic legacy is as the beginning of the end of a movie studio that had barely found it's legs. ROCK-A-DOODLE seems to be the single point which begins the rapid downfall of Sullivan-Bluth. Not helping was a string of hugely successful Disney animated features which helped shove aside the plucky independent.
The next few Bluth films were barely released. As of this writing, even I haven't seen any of his films between our current subject and ANASTASIA. Bluth's first feature after this was THUMBELINA. I'm not sure why this one tanked, but I didn't even know of it's existence until I did some internet research on Mr. Bluth! Reportedly, Don thought the finished version of THE PEBBLE AND THE PENGUIN was so screwed up that he had his name removed from the film as director! Having finally seen the film, though, I'm not sure what Don's beef with the picture was. Personally, I found it quite charming, but rumors are that there was heavy studio meddling... Something called A TROLL IN CENTRAL PARK didn't even get much of a chance to find it's audience, opening on limited screens and being barely advertised. Finally, though, came ANASTASIA, a film 20th Century Fox blessed with a full ad campaign. Sadly, this was followed by another critical and financial flop (and another one I haven't seen yet) by name of TITAN A.E. That film's failure was so hard-hitting that it scuttled Fox's new animation studio.
At the same time, Pixar's brand of cartooning was becoming the hot thing and traditional animation was forced aside. For a time, Disney continued to periodically release traditionally animated features (particularly for it's direct-to-video sequels) as well as computer-based epics. When HOME ON THE RANGE became one of the worst financial failures in the studio's history, the Mouse mandated that from that time forward they would release only computer animation. Some years passed and studio heads were talked into testing the traditional animation waters again. This resulted in the delightful THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG. Unfortunately, the film tanked at the box office and the moratorium on hand-drawn animation was restored.
(Possibly, both failures could have been the result of something other than the type of animation they used. HOME ON THE RANGE was saddled with a PG rating, which surely did the film no favors with the studio's traditionally family-based audience. To be fair, the film itself was only so-so, however, so maybe people just didn't want to see it. That was what killed THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG when it came out, as audiences likely feared a preachy PC-fest since the film involved a mostly black cast. Those who avoided the picture had no way of knowing that the film actually opted not to employ any PC propaganda tactics. Ironically, this refreshing move served only to raise the ire of Hollywood activists, who spoke out against the movie. The flick seemed doomed from every side when all was said and done. I recommend you check the picture out, though. It was one of Disney's best since the much touted "Disney Renaissance" of the early 90's.)
Bluth and his partner Gary Goldman remain active, as their films continue to inspire new generations of fans. Though pre-production has lingered for years, they are currently developing a feature film based on the successful Dragon's Lair video game. Mr. Bluth is also raising a new generation of animators through a series of how-to videos and a self-named animation university. One certainly wishes him the best and hopes to see his new project a success. Traditional animation is just too beautiful a format for it to fade away completely. Bluth and Goldman have been quoted as firmly believing that the art form will, sooner or later, make a triumphant return. To God's ears.
Even with it's poor reputation, the offbeat singing rooster movie continues to win new fans. The final word on ROCK-A-DOODLE is that ultimately, it's very fun and charming. It's hard to ask much more of an animated film.
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