Does the above title, for a Disney animated short, seem familiar to you?
Don’t feel bad if it isn’t… Until today I certainly hadn’t heard of it.
Runaway Brain was a short created way back in 1995 which featured, for the first time in decades a “new” story involving Disney’s principle character creation: Mickey Mouse. I could get into the details of the making and subsequent release of the short and its legacy (which seems to be none), but rather than do so, let me point out this article by Drew Taylor and presented on polygon.com which goes in depth into…
Again, the article does a very good job explaining why this short, which began as an attempt to triumphantly bring back Mickey Mouse, is now essentially buried, and the bottom line is one which has occurred in plenty of different occasions:
One “boss” green lights a project, they go over it and agree with what will be done, and when said project nears its end/conclusion, a new “boss” comes in an decides what was ok for the previous regimen isn’t good for them.
Changes were made, professionals involved were angered and frustrated, and ultimately a watered down version of the product is released and subsequently -because Disney is big enough to do so- the final product is purposely buried.
The fact that the product involves what is arguably Disney’s “biggest” character, Mickey Mouse, makes the story all the more intriguing. That and the fact that, unlike Song of the South, the short doesn’t involve racial stereotypes or outmoded/offensive ways of thinking about races, the main reason Disney refuses to release any formal version of Song of the South to the public.
It’s a fascinating story but, truthfully, if you follow the history of any major studio, you’ll find similar stories just like this, of projects that have gone off the rails and movies/TV shows/what-have-you that eventually limped out into general or limited release, then essentially being forgotten or allowed to be forgotten.
Still, a fascinating story, if you’re interested in reading about it!
Never knew about this place, which apparently was a source of much of Walt Disney’s nostalgia as the family lived there in the early 20th Century, and wanted to show his appreciation for it by creating a mini-park there. Ultimately, Mr. Disney’s death signified the death of that particular dream, but it is fascinating to see some of the photographs of that town and realize it was the blueprint to the Disney World Main Street.
Over at slate.com I found this absolutely fascinating article by Rachel Withers regarding Disneyland’s Tomorrowland and how this once proud icon of future thinking has become antiquated and even sold for its nostalgia rather than forward thinking, as originally envisioned by Walt Disney.
The article’s title is brief and apropo given the subject matter:
I know I’ve presented plenty of articles and their links before, but this is one truly worth checking out.
Even if you’re like me and not a huge fan of the Disney Parks (sorry, can’t handle the crowds, heat, and the considerable expense), this article offers an intriguing look at the thinking Walt Disney had behind Tomorrowland and, eventually, EPCOT, and how those visions have changed over time and following his passing in 1966.
At the risk of giving away too much, Ms. Withers’ thesis is a fascinating one, that it is impossible to have a park focused on forward technology. She rightly notes that the “future” is not really all that far away, and what can be viewed as futuristic when set up in year X becomes antiquated or even hopelessly wrong by year Y.
What’s even more fascinating is Ms. Withers’ analysis of the public’s changing views of the future. There was once an undeniable optimism regarding the future and the technologies to come. Though she doesn’t make the connection, the New York World’s Fair of 1939 and 1940 were a big influence on Walt Disney and his generation. Within that fair, which unfortunately had to be shut down because of the coming World War, the pavilions were odes to the fantastic… to the things that were to come and would make our lives so much better.
(An aside: I was never all that close to my wife’s Grandparents. Don’t get me wrong, they were very nice people but by the time I got to know them they were quite old and there didn’t seem to be much a youngster like me and them could relate to other than polite and often superficial conversation. The years passed, I married their granddaughter, and they got older and older. Soon enough they both passed away. Years afterwards, when her family had a get together, one of her cousins played a slideshow of photographs she created involving them. As I watched the images pass, first of them as children and then growing up and then their wedding, I was floored when the following few images showed the then youthful grandparents standing near the famous 1939/40 New York World’s Fair Trylon and Perisphere!
Trylon and Perisphere picture presented in post cards sold or given away at the time.
There were perhaps three or four photographs of them at different parts of the park, including -if memory serves- one of them next to a futuristic looking train. Until that moment I didn’t know they had spent their honeymoon at that World’s Fair and I was crushed by the fact that I could have gotten first hand accounts of something I consider one of the more fascinating things of the early 20th Century… that’s how much I love reading about the 1939/40 Worlds’ Fair! A lesson to the wise: Talk to people. Have conversations. You may be surprised by what you learn. And certainly do so before its too late)
Getting back to the Tomorrowland article and our current view of the future, Ms. Withers -correctly, I feel- argues that today we’re far more pessimistic regarding the future and view it in terms of dystopia rather than utopia and that, to some extent, may be why there is little interest in doing a more forward thinking Tomorrowland in line with what Mr. Disney had in mind.
From her article and excuse me for giving away it’s punchline:
Tech doesn’t exactly wow us like it used to—after all, it’s now in our homes, in our cars, even in our pockets. Touristing in a technological wonderland would probably feel underwhelming, considering we’re basically already in one. And why would anyone want to immerse themselves in the future? Popular imagination holds that today’s future will be a dystopia, not a utopia. In this age of climate-change doom and job-killing automation, of “unplugging” and “logging off,” perhaps the future is no longer a place we want to go, no longer the land of exciting promise, of “hopes and dreams.” In the 1950s, the future was an inviting fantasy, something to gaze towards, to marvel at, to reach for. Now Walt’s tomorrow is here … and well, we’re drowning in it.
Let me repeat that last, very sad line:
Now Walt’s tomorrow is here … and well, we’re drowning in it.
