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Retro review: Disney’s “The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh” (1977)

I rewatched the classic Disney cartoons one by one. After Disney himself died, the Golden Age was over, and a long Dry spell The result was that the work product was inferior and the characters were significantly less memorable.

Still, even the inferior Disney films from this era are better than almost any children’s films and will be a childhood favorite for many nostalgic souls, so you can be sure that even the worst film from this era is worth showing your children.

THE MANY ADVENTURES OF WINNIE THE POOH (1977) is an oddity on this list, an oasis in the drought, firstly because it wasn’t a feature film but an anthology of three short films strung together seamlessly; secondly because it captures all the charm and joy of the Golden Age of Disney, as two of the three films were produced by Disney himself when he was still alive. The sheer childlike wonder and whimsy is overwhelming.

The film is a “fix-up” consisting of Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree (1966), Winnie the Pooh and the stormy day (1968) and Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too (1974) with a short final sequence when Christopher Robin has to finish his school days and say a final goodbye. Sabestian Cabot has taken over the voice of the narrator, which is a perfect choice as his urbane charm provides a nice contrast to the sober silliness of the talking animal toys.

The story is simply charming. I can’t imagine anyone who loves children or childhood themes not loving this movie.

The story is set in a storybook in a kindergarten, where the toys are seen before we enter the animated world of fantasy. The talking toy animals that live in the forest are well aware that they are stuffed animals on the turned pages of a storybook, whose letters can be blown away by the stormy wind or washed away by floodwaters, and the toys occasionally make remarks to the narrator.

Winnie the Pooh is a bear with little brains but a voracious appetite. Aided by his human friend Christopher Robin, the bear searches for honey in tall trees, using a clever disguise to fool disgruntled bees. More honey is to be found at the house of his friend Rabbit, whose front door the overfed bear blocks as he tries to leave. The energetic Tigger warns him of Heffalumps and Woozles after his honey, leading to a hallucinogenic dream sequence. Windy days or rain or walking in circles occasionally cause problems for the toys, but no one is hurt or even humiliated and they support each other kindheartedly. Bugs Bunny’s malice is nowhere to be seen and would be unimaginable in the Hundred Ace Wood.

The animation lacks the artistic elegance of BAMBI or SLEEPING BEAUTY, and is closer in quality to THE SWORD IN THE STONE. But in this case, elegance would be out of place, and the straightforward style adds charm and fits the theme. Each character is simple, distinctive and charming: Eeyore is morose, Owl is verbose, Rabbit is fussy, Piglet is small. Tigger is bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, and funny, funny, funny.

The Hundred Acre Wood is perhaps the most timeless and elfin fantasy landscape ever conceived, and Disney brings to life the promise of AA Milne’s map on the book’s flyleaf, complete with treehouses with misspelled names, places to ponder or picnic, or not.

What overwhelms a soul like mine in this work is the simplicity, goodness, and happiness of it all, the childlike innocence so rarely found in the real world and so rarely captured in storybooks. When Piglet allows his house to be given to Owl rather than speak and disappoint the gloomy Eeyore (who had volunteered to find Owl a new home), and Pooh immediately takes Piglet in, it brings tears to one’s eyes. Likewise, when Christopher Robin is taken away for mysterious reasons to go to something called school, leaving his toys from the nursery behind, he makes Pooh promise not to forget his friend, nor be forgotten by him.

Here is captured not only the wonder but also the poignant melancholy of childhood, for every child grows up, leaves childish things behind, learns that he is mortal, and the magic lives on only in memory. Childhood memories turn golden with age, or at least they should. AA Milne, with the magic of his pen, captures this strange fairy gold with remarkable straightforwardness, and Pooh’s simplicity is not stupidity, even if the bear himself is stupid, but wise with divine wisdom and unassuming humility. He is only a little toy, after all.

Disney captures Milne’s magic and allows it to flourish. Compared to such humble and forgettable works as ROBIN HOOD and SWIMMING AND RESCUE, the contrast of this timeless masterpiece is even more shocking.

Walt Disney is famous for his retellings of children’s books and fairy tales, embellishing them with additional material, often with happier endings than the original, leaving his unique stamp of optimism, charm, moral sobriety and drive that became the leitmotif of his generation – partly because of his influence on his generation. His company continued to follow in his footsteps for many years after his death.

So it is only to be expected that Disney’s Winnie the Pooh would be different from AAMilne, just as Disney’s Alice from ALICE IN WONDERLAND was different from Lewis Carroll. But Disney’s attitude to life did not mesh well with the overly grim British nonsense and playfulness of Lewis Carroll. The two great storytellers were too far apart in their approach to storytelling. Disney’s ALICE is one of his least appreciated works, and rightly so.

AA Milne’s work is the opposite: Disney made the character Winnie even more bizarre, gave him depth and charm, and made the silly old bear even more like Pooh. Not least by the decision to let Sterling Holloway do the dubbing, which made both bear and voice actor immortal. Tigger is voiced by the ventriloquist Paul Winchell, who is equally immortal.

Every element of art, music, animation and voice acting comes together to capture the light in a bottle. WINNIE THE POOH is rightly one of Disney’s most beloved works.

Even among Disney classics, this is a classic.

Originally published here.

By Bronte

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