Progress City, U.S.A.

I first heard about The Muppet Man last December when it received a great deal of publicity due to its appearance at the top of the fabled “Black List.” The list, which has become something of a big deal, is an annual ranking of that year’s best unproduced scripts circulating around Hollywood. Making the list is now a badge of honor for screenwriters, and sometimes leads to high-profile pickups for scripts that are spotlighted.

The Muppet Man made news not only for its growing buzz as a screenplay, but for its content; it’s an unconventional biopic of Muppet creator Jim Henson, interspersing scenes from Henson’s life with vignettes from the Muppet world. Even stranger, it was written on spec by unknown young screenwriter Christopher Weekes without permission from the Henson family – pretty much guaranteeing that it would never be filmed unless it miraculously received the Hensons’ approval.

Oddly enough, the Henson company purchased rights to the script, but development remains at a standstill due to those ol’ “creative differences.” The problem is that Weekes wrote this biographical film without any knowledge whatsoever about Henson or his life save for what he could glean from Wikipedia and similar sources. It’s a biography rooted in speculation, so perhaps unsurprisingly the Henson family is reluctant to film a script that depicts their patriarch’s marriage and last days from such an uninformed perspective. According to the L.A. Times, the Hensons want to lighten the tone of the film and make it a more conventional Muppet tale. For now, the script remains unproduced.

It’s always risky to judge a film solely by the script; there can be a big difference between what’s on the page and what’s on the screen, and reading a script is simply a much different experience. I feel safe talking about The Muppet Man, though, because not only will it probably never actually be filmed, but it’s also so laden with cliche that no amount of visual whiz-bangery could enliven the more leaden elements of the screenplay.

I find myself despairing for Hollywood if The Muppet Man truly represents the best unproduced screenplay in town. At its core, it’s a very rote by-the-numbers biopic that’s straight out of “Misunderstood Creative Type” 101; you’ve already seen most of it a thousand times before. While there are elements of the story that provide a momentary spark or indicate interesting directions in which the film could go, these threads are quickly ignored or abandoned. In effect, the script reads like a checklist of Henson’s accomplishments and any interesting examination or introspection about the man is eschewed in favor of moving along to check another item off the list.

I’m an enormous fan of Henson and the Muppets, but I never knew anything about his private life or the creative process behind the development of the Muppet films and shows. This script certainly doesn’t shed much light on the man or his creations, a situation made worse when you realize that what vignettes that are shown are probably completely fabricated.

The script – the draft I read was dated August of 2008 – interweaves three basic storylines. The first follows Henson through the days before his death in 1990. These scenes serve to link a series of flashbacks that begin with Henson’s high school days in the 1950s and carry through to his successes as he builds his company in the 60s and 70s. A third storyline bookends the film, and takes place within the surreal Muppet world of “Moo York City.”

These Muppet sequences are, perhaps unsurprisingly, receiving the most attention for their “edgy” overtones. They follow a grizzled, middle-aged Kermit the Frog as he attempts to cope with Miss Piggy’s marriage to another. The sight-gag heavy world of Moo York is strongly reminiscent of Toontown from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and we come to learn that Kermit and Piggy’s alienation is intended to mirror the real-world separation of Henson and his wife Jane.

But while these scenes might get the most press, the majority of the film is spent in the “real” world. The scenes from 1990 follow Henson as he becomes progressively more ill, rebuffing the constant efforts of his colleagues and family to have him see a doctor. We follow Henson from New York to Los Angeles, where he does an appearance on The Arsenio Hall Show; his return to New York and subsequent trip to North Carolina, where Henson and his daughter Lisa visit his parents, follow an increasingly predictable pattern. Henson staggers around coughing, looking progressively more pale and drawn, and sleeps a lot. It’s about as entertaining as it sounds, too. Everyone he comes in contact with urges him to do two things – see a doctor, and call his wife. Despite the constant repetition of these exhortations, Henson does neither until it’s too late.

In fact, the gist of the film seems to be that everything would have just been OK had Henson called his wife. The flashbacks are filled with instances of people telling him to call Jane, which he never seems to do. Their marriage never seems to have any clear-cut conflict; he doesn’t fool around, he’s a good father, and his work demands aren’t portrayed as any more unreasonable than any other filmmaker. Yet throughout their marriage, Jane is by turns supportive and a flight risk; she cries – a lot – and tends to walk out on Henson with little provocation.

The bulk of the film takes place in flashbacks, which is unfortunate as those are the script’s weakest points. Young Henson is an affable oddball with a straightlaced father who just doesn’t understand Henson’s puppetry shenanigans. The whole setup is well-worn, to say the least – Henson gets pressured into dating a girl, takes out the pretty blonde who is initially put off by his social awkwardness, and he forces her to go see a monster movie while remaining completely unaware of her indifference. Later, when Henson meets his future wife at college, she’s dating – wait for it – a handsome jock! Even the means by which the flashbacks are introduced is creakily familiar; a character in the present day says something unexpected, Henson is shocked, and – surprise – we find out that the person who was speaking is now someone completely different, and we’re now in a flashback.

The cliches don’t end there. There are several scenes of Henson performing his early routines for skeptical executives or television crews, only to win them over immediately with his antics. There are cigar-chomping agents and businessmen, all of whom call Henson “kid” and “Jimbo” and speak in absurd showbiz patois. There’s the initial thrill of a first major success, followed immediately by a return home and – wait – are those police lights flashing in front of Henson’s house?

Weekes even uses, repeatedly, the oldest trick in the book for these biopics – the idea of “spontaneously” creating some famous idea/skit/character/song from random stimuli in the environment. The grouchy waiter at a dirty diner Henson visits is named Oscar? I bet we’ll be seeing that name again! Henson’s son is scared of monsters? What if this new character Grover is scared of monsters too? These vignettes might be true for all I know, but they’re all presented in such a gimmicky way that it stretches credibility.

Perhaps these cliches are so much more apparent because the Muppet films, especially The Muppets Take Manhattan, are themselves intentional spoofs of the “let’s put on a show!” tradition of corny old showbiz films. To take those same cigar-chomping cliches and repeat them creates some sort of feedback loop, as the script about Henson seems to rip off Henson’s own spoofs of hoary Hollywood tropes. There’s no deconstruction or synthesis in Weekes’s script, merely emulation.

But aside from the by-the-book personal tragedies and relationship difficulties, Henson’s professional rise is depicted as nothing less than meteoric. Everyone is immediately won over by his work; there are many scenes of studio crews reduced to hysterics and “rolling” with laughter as he performs. Even the Muppeteers themselves aren’t immune; any time we see the Muppets filming, Henson and his staff can barely keep themselves from cracking up at their own material. There are really no hindrances to his success; everything Henson wants to do, he pretty much gets to do. At times this makes him seem flighty, as we really get no reason for why he’ll suddenly want to do serious art or installation pieces, and then decide to go film children’s programming. There’s no insight; again, you just feel as if the screenwriter is ticking off accomplishments from a list without knowing why the decisions were ever made.

When Henson succeeds, though, he really succeeds – I don’t think there’s a single television set in the entire movie that isn’t tuned to one of his shows. At one point Henson looks out the window of his flat to see a number of other apartments, all full of children watching Sesame Street. In 1990, Henson awakes to find a television airing a 24-hour marathon of The Muppet Show. Trust me, if a television station in North Carolina had been airing 24-hour marathons of The Muppet Show in 1990 I would have known about it.

The most successful elements of the film are those where the human and Muppet worlds collide. In the start of the film, one worries that these moments will become irritating. They’re introduced as a series of Henson’s delusions, where a Muppet will come up to him and say something unexpected and – surprise! – he realizes it’s actually a member of his staff or one of his friends. Henson’s continued bewilderment in these moments makes them merely repetitious instead of interesting. Then, instead of using the Muppet interactions as a useful narrative conceit, the script proceeds to mostly forget about them for huge chunks of time.

The Muppets – mostly Kermit – do show up randomly throughout Henson’s life, mainly serving to mirror significant moments in his relationship with Jane. There’s very little interaction between the human and Muppet characters, though; an entire musical number is staged around Henson after he successfully proposes to Jane, yet neither of them notice. The entire concept of Kermit as an avatar for Henson is limited to the Frog sitting at Jim’s side during these moments, while Jane is mirrored by Miss Piggy. This would be ok, and could be quite amusing, if it weren’t always just a bit too on-the-nose. It doesn’t help that most of these montages – and there are a lot of montages in this film – are set to various songs from the Muppet films. What’s more, they’re deliberately staged to mimic those specific scenes from the original films. The end effect of this, at least from reading the screenplay, is to make me want to put down the script and turn on one of the Muppet films. Callbacks and references are one thing, but this is often straight-up mimicry. The more successful Muppet moments are when the worlds blend together in a less referential and more surreal manner, such as when Henson and his wife are shown their new apartment in New York by a couple of Muppet realtors.

The best bits come towards the end of the script, which is probably no surprise since these scenes best match actual events. It’s obvious that Henson’s death would be poignant and affecting, and it seems so much more tragic due to its sheer unnecessary and preventable nature. In fact, I wasn’t at all sure that I wanted to read a script or watch a film that focused on these events. After all, one could make a pretty fascinating biography of Walt Disney, but I wouldn’t want it to be based solely on those last few weeks of him skulking around the studio coughing loudly.

Strange, then, that while the film lingers too much on Henson’s declining days, it finally clicks as he’s nearing the end. The line between worlds finally breaks down, and the idea of Kermit acting as a sort of Jiminy Cricket figure for Henson finally pays off when the Frog appears at Henson’s bedside for an honest conversation between two old campaigners about mortality and their respective loves. After so much time spent on the cliched rehash of Henson’s life, this one scene shows the unexplored potential of the film. It’s good – and it make me re-think entirely the potential of making a film about Henson.

Henson’s death and the subsequent memorial are, as expected, incredibly affecting. This is most likely due to the fact that it was lifted wholecloth from the actual events – you can even find footage of the real service on YouTube, and the script copies it nearly verbatim. The whole thing wraps up with a postscript in the Muppet world – after all, as Kermit says, you can’t end the film on such a down note – but like so much else in the script a good idea is spoilt by a lack of focus. Kermit, inspired by Jim’s actions, wrenches Piggy from the arms of her self-absorbed new love; there’s a wedding, and the events culminate with a Muppet version of Jim Henson arriving to join them for a final number. This is almost the perfect way to end such a film – Muppet Henson and all his creations in a sort of puppety Valhalla – but there’s too much going on. There’s the wedding, and then Animal goes nuts and tears down the church, then they’re on a soundstage, and there’s rainbows and singing… it’s just too much, and it muddles the message.

That’s pretty much the problem with the entire film. What are we supposed to take away from this? See a doctor? Call your wife? Don’t be such a creative genius or your wife will leave you? Subjects float in the background but are never meaningfully addressed – Henson’s desire to simultaneously be a serious artist and a entertainer of the masses, the commercialization and corporatization of his productions, and the urge to innovate vs. the push to repeat past successes would all be fodder for an interesting screenplay. Other key events in Henson’s life, such as his plans to sell his company to Disney and increase his creative activities, are ignored completely. And, in the end, who was Henson? Aside from finding out that he was a quiet, nice guy who was really creative (which we already knew), there’s not a lot to walk away with.

The idea behind The Muppet Man is sound. Perhaps that’s why the Henson company wound up buying the script; a complete rewrite that retains the successful concepts of the current script could be quite enjoyable. What’s inexplicable, though, is how this script is receiving so much attention in Hollywood for being a dark and edgy look at Henson, when in fact its observations seem facile and one feels that it barely scratches the surface of what might have made the man so truly fascinating. That’s a script that I’d like to see.

Special thanks to you-know-who-you-are…

With the release of Disney’s first animated fairytale in many years, fans get to experience what was once an annual ritual – the release of a new musical soundtrack. Originally intended for long-time Disney composer Alan Menken, The Princess and the Frog was eventually re-assigned to John Lasseter’s self-professed favorite composer, Randy Newman. In this instance, Newman’s presence makes sense; his roots in the New Orleans musical culture fit well with the film’s setting, and his wry and witty lyrics mix with stand-out vocal performances by the film’s cast to create a thoroughly enjoyable soundtrack.

My listening experience with this album was slightly odd due to the fact that I’ve seen only part of the movie, amounting to about four of the songs. With the visuals for these tracks already in my head, I had a much quicker connection to those numbers. In the roughly two weeks since I received the album, though, I’ve grown familiar with the rest of the album and it all meshes nicely. Newman’s songs cover a range of styles from the Louisiana region, providing a nice variety and keeping things from getting stale.

Skipping the album’s first track – more on that later – takes us to the first of the film’s songs, a melodic prelude that you might have heard in the film’s trailer. Performed by Anika Noni Rose, the voice of the film’s heroine, this little prologue sets the tone of the film nicely.

The next track kicks up the tempo with an upbeat tour of the Crescent City, Down in New Orleans. One of the great things about this soundtrack is getting Randy Newman’s songwriting without the downside of Randy Newman’s singing. Instead, our introduction to the film’s world is performed by New Orleans musical legend Dr. John – a perfect fit for the material. His bluesy, boogie-woogie tempo makes this Dixieland-inflected piece an appropriately energetic way to start the film.

It became codified in the 1990s that every Disney fairy tale had to have an “I want” song, in which the “princess” in question would sing about her hopes and wishes. Almost There fills that role in Princess and the Frog, but with a noticeable shift in tone. Instead of pining for lost love or adventure, Tiana (Anika Noni Rose) asserts her vision for the future. A waitress with a life-long goal to become a restaurateur, Tiana doesn’t sing about what she wants to happen – she sings about what will happen. It’s very affirmative and upbeat, and Rose’s voice is a superb fit for the character. It’s technically proficient, but also full of good humor and charm.

Her voice is so good, in fact, that you find yourself hating that this is her only solo number in the film. That’s obviously necessary for story reasons (this isn’t some 3-hour musical from the 1960s, after all), but her voice fits the character so well that it leaves you wanting more. A few previous Disney features, notably The Lion King and Lilo & Stitch, have released a second soundtrack with music “inspired” by the film. Far be it from me to suggest anything to Disney marketing, but I’d kind of like to see a Newman-produced album of jazz, blues, and songbook classics featuring the voice cast of the film.

Disney musicals also need a villain number, and so we get Keith David’s Dr. Facilier and Friends On The Other Side. This piece could only have been in an animated film, because if there had actually been real scenery, David would have devoured it whole. They might have had to actually build a few sets for him to chew on anyway. Dr Facilier is larger than life, and indeed this song is strongly evocative of Poor Unfortunate Souls from The Little Mermaid. It’s the most operatic piece in the soundtrack, incorporating quite a bit of dialogue and plot into its lyrics. This makes it a little more true to the Disney model, but David’s booming voice is perfect for the character and the song’s bluesy undertones and he really makes the most of it.

When We’re Human is a jazzy Dixieland piece featuring the now-transformed Tiana and Naveen (Bruno Campos) as well as the jazz-loving alligator Louis (Michael-Leon Wooley). Veteran trumpeter Terence Blanchard contributes his considerable skills to this song, which underscores the markedly different goals of the characters (Tiana want to become human again to get back to work on her restaurant; gadabout Naveen wants to get back to the ladies). The song’s pretty fun, has some nice musical moments, and moves at a brisk pace.

We’re introduced to Jim Cummings’s Cajun firefly Ray with the zydeco-infused Gonna Take You There. This is probably the most comedic piece on the album, and while it is indeed catchy it’s my least favorite of the tracks due to my general indifference to zydeco.

Cummings fares much better with the next number, the Cajun waltz My Belle Evangeline. The relaxed tempo conveys the appropriate feeling of moonlight on the bayou, and there’s more great trumpet work by Terence Blanchard. Thankfully, despite the fact that Ray seems to be the film’s comic relief, they play this song pretty straight. In many ways, it’s a descendant of Kiss the Girl from The Little Mermaid, and it’s a lovely song that might be well-served by a cover version in the future (if only Robbie Robertson and Levon Helm would make amends!).

The soundtrack peaks with the gospel blowout Dig a Little Deeper, featuring Jenifer Lewis (as Mama Odie) and the Pinnacle Gospel Choir. This is a huge number, with quick, brassy lyrics, and it leaves one feeling like you’ve been to a revival yourself. It’ll be wild on the big screen.

The last song on the soundtrack is a reprise of Down in New Orleans by Anika Noni Rose, and it’s the perfect way to end the film. Rose totally blows it out, and the performance is so lively that it feels like the curtain call at a packed Broadway show. Did I mention that I’m totally crushing on her voice? This number will no doubt leave fans hyped and ready for whatever Disney has coming next (just try and forget for the moment that it’s Winnie-The-Pooh).

The songs on this album are pretty consistently great – consistent in a way that Disney soundtracks haven’t been in a while. The sad exceptions to this are the seven excerpts of the film’s score that flesh out the remainder of the tracks. New Orleans has such a long musical tradition in so many genres, it seems shocking that these seven tracks from the score are so blandly orchestral. True, people rarely listen to these soundtracks for the purely musical sections; after all, the big set pieces of these films are the songs themselves. Still, with all the superlative work that artists like Michael Giacchino have been doing on animation soundtracks recently, one comes to expect more that a run-of-the-mill underscore with some light music cues underlining the action.

Newman has done good scoring work before, and there are bits and pieces on this album that hint at greater Dixieland or jazz possibilies. The bulk of the score, though, seems sadly underwhelming, conventionally orchestral, and highly forgettable.

What I wish I could forget, though, is the aforementioned track that leads off the album – a mind-numbingly bland piece of R&B called Never Knew I Needed. This song, which I assume plays over the film’s end credits, is the conceptual descendant of the “hit single” covers from the Disney animated soundtracks in the 1990s; these dull, adult-contemporary radio ready singles by artists like Celine Dion provided the flavorless, synthesized soundtrack for a million elevators and dentists’ waiting rooms in the previous decade.

This isn’t to say that the song, by someone called Ne-Yo, is really awful or tasteless – it’s just breathtakingly, astoundingly boring. Of course, that statement applies to my general opinion of all modern R&B anyway. Again, going back to the New Orleans music tradition, they couldn’t find a more appropriate way to make a single for the film? Heck, get Harry Connick, Jr. if you want the radio-friendly vibe. The problem, of course, is that Disney is no longer peddling to the middle-of-the-road adult crowd. This single is aimed, like everything else, at the Disney Channel market, and it’s the first truly pandering move I’ve seen from this film’s marketing so far. What’s funny is that they’ve taken a genre and a label – Ne-Yo comes under license from Def Jam Records – that tends towards the scandalous, and filed off any rough edges to make it unthreatening enough for the Disney Channel pre-tweens and their moms. What’s left is neither tonally appropriate for the film, or even an interesting song in its own right. At least in the 90s they stuck these at the end of the album; this time, we get it stuck at the first so you have to fast forward every time you pop in the CD.

But that’s one track out of seventeen, and that’s certainly not a bad slugging percentage. The songs from the actual movie itself are catchy and fun, and musically interesting. I’m looking forward to seeing them all in context on the big screen, and I would recommend this disc to anyone who is a fan of animated musicals, New Orleans, or singing amphibians. It’s fun to see Disney getting back to its roots, and doing it in style.

The Princess and the Frog: Original Songs and Score can be purchased online at Barnes & Noble.

For some time, we here at Progress City have wanted to review new releases of note from Walt Disney Pictures and Pixar. What better way to start, then, than the home video release of this year’s Pixar success, UP? The simple tale of a boy and his dog… and an old man… and a flying house… and a giant rare bird named Kevin… was released to stores last Tuesday. True to Disney’s recent pattern, it has been released in multiple formats: a bare-bones, single-disc DVD; a deluxe DVD with bonus features and a digital copy of the film on a second disc; and a four-disc package that includes the film and its extras on two Blu-Ray discs, a bonus DVD of the film for those yet to upgrade, and a disc containing a downloadable digital version of the film.

It’s nearly unthinkable that any reader of this blog will have yet to see this film, making any further review practically superfluous. Needless to say, it’s another in a long line of Pixar triumphs, and perhaps their most challenging yet. UP manages to thread a number of needles very successfully, making fools of the pundits who doubted Pixar’s ability to translate its esoteric premise into a successful family film.

There were many – mainly in the field of marketing – who questioned the premise of Pixar’s tenth feature, saying that there was no way people would turn out to watch a film about a senior citizen on what amounted to a suicide mission to reclaim lost love and dreams deferred. It wouldn’t sell toys, they said, and thus it would doubtless be a failure. But once again creativity trumped the deep insight of the business sector, and UP became Pixar’s second-highest grossing film to date. The film is emotionally wrenching yet still hilarious, containing that perfect level of pathos that made the animated films of Disney’s golden age so resonant. Pixar’s continuing unwillingness to pander to its audience made this family-friendly Fitzcarraldo a hit with audiences and critics.

The film, much like last year’s WALL-E, is most effective in its nearly-flawless first act. After an introduction to the young Carl Fredricksen and his future wife Ellie, we watch their life unfold through a masterfully-crafted yet wordless montage that conveys the successes and sorrows of their long life together. At its end, we’re left with the widower Fredricksen (Ed Asner) as a gruff and lonely 78-year-old who resembles the rumpled and crotchety Spencer Tracy of Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? Left alone in the home he and Ellie made together, and faced with the threat of eviction so that a mall can be built on his property (a conceit reminiscent of Capra’s You Can’t Take It With You, with visuals that strongly evoke the classic Disney short The Little House), the former balloon salesman concocts an improbable scheme to finally realize his and Ellie’s dream of seeking adventure in distant South America.

Carl’s plans are complicated, naturally, by a stowaway – young Russell, who proves relentless in his quest to earn his Wilderness Explorer merit badge for assisting the elderly. The filmmakers and actor Jordan Nagai earn a great deal of praise for making Russell a thoroughly believable character and in no way treacly or annoying. If Russell doesn’t remind you of a kid you’ve known (or were), then you haven’t met many.

Things grow increasingly perilous for our heroes upon their arrival in the isolated and tropical Paradise Falls; there are rare and endangered birds, talking dogs, and UP’s own version of Colonel Kurtz – Carl’s childhood idol, Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer). Some of this material works better than the rest, especially the friendly speaking canine Dug (co-director Bob Peterson). Dug is perhaps my favorite character in any of the Pixar films, and he deserves special mention here. The ever-cheerful and good-natured dog is both hilarious and incredibly evocative for any viewer who has known a loyal, smart, yet scatterbrained pup. His animation is nuanced and amazingly insightful; any dog-lover will recognize his behaviors and moods at once. The character’s design, too, is pleasingly caricatured and just cartoony enough; this sets Dug above the other dog characters whose designs hew closer to realism and, I feel, are rather unsightly.

The film is not perfect, though; again, like WALL-E, most of its problems come in the third act when the story seems to get away from itself, ramp up the action, and get a little sloppy. When I saw UP in theaters, I came away convinced that the film didn’t need a villain. I still find this to be the case. Carl’s real enemy is his inability to reconcile with the past, and his imprisonment by the ephemera that has come to define him. These are problems with which I deeply sympathize and identify, but they’re things that Carl must himself overcome. It seems too easy to have him learn his lesson by comparing himself to Muntz, especially when Muntz descends so quickly into a rather clichéd and over-blown villain. Obviously Muntz’s path isn’t one to follow, but do we believe that Carl would have ever gone that far?

Despite the muddled third act – although who can quibble with an aged Spencer Tracy and Kirk Douglas wailing on each other while hanging from a zeppelin? – UP sticks the landing by satisfactorily wrapping up each character’s quest. It’s emotional, hopeful, and ever so completely Pixar.

The DVD

As mentioned, UP has been released in three different editions for DVD and Blu-Ray. We shall examine these in turn, but first I have a general note about the releases. Pixar was long noted for the extremely high quality of their DVD releases, both in sound and image quality and amount of supplemental material. Their first DVD release, 1998’s a bug’s life, was seminal, as was its follow-up, the Ultimate Toy Box. At the time, DVDs were mostly the realm of film buffs and early-adopters. As prices dropped, a family market was created and the contents of new releases began to shift from targeting animation fans to targeting toddlers. Disney releases were hit the hardest; for a while, even box-office disappointments like Atlantis and The Emperor’s New Groove had received the deluxe treatment on their two-disc special editions (and thank heavens for it!). By 2002, though, the comparatively successful Lilo & Stitch was released with a rather barren single-disc offering and the age of collector-grade Disney releases was over.

Pixar releases, mercifully, stuck to a higher standard. In recent years, though, even they have dropped off with single-disc releases for Cars and Ratatouille. Extensive bonus features have been reserved for Blu-Ray only, but even those “deluxe” editions have slipped somewhat since the days of Pixar’s self-styled “sooper genius” editions. UP continues this trend with Pixar’s sparsest slate of extras yet, although what is on the Blu-Ray release is definitely worth a look.

Video & Audio

One area in which Pixar has never fallen short is that of picture quality. Their early releases were the first home video titles to benefit from direct digital transfers of the original elements. UP is no different, with spectacular transfers on both the DVD and Blu-Ray. Both are presented in the 1.78:1 aspect ratio; the DVD transfer is in anamorphic widescreen. Without the need for the tinted 3-D glasses used in theaters, the vibrant color palette of the film can be truly appreciated. It really pops on the screen, and even the lower-resolution DVD release features an exceptional level of color and detail.

The film sounds great, too; the Blu-Ray features a DTS-HD 5.1 track, as well as a Dolby 5.1 soundtrack in English, French and Spanish. The DVD offers Dolby 5.1 English and Dolby Surround 2.0 options, as well as something fairly unique and special – a descriptive audio track for the visually impaired.

Bonus Features & Various Editions

The three-tiered release strategy is thankfully easy to decipher, as each more expensive edition builds upon the contents of the lesser versions. So, let’s start at the bottom.

Standard, Single-Disc DVD

The bare-bones DVD release only contains two bonus features – the theatrical short Partly Cloudy and the DVD-exclusive short Dug’s Special Mission.

Partly Cloudy – This short, which played in theaters in front of UP, is the charming tale of a besieged stork who is assigned to deliver some of nature’s less cuddly creatures. Delivered without dialogue, the short is a tribute to Pixar’s ability to create intense emotions and sympathetic characters through pantomime and the pure art of animation. (5:46)

Dug’s Special Mission – The new short serves as something of a prequel to Dug’s initial appearance in UP. As such, it’s less of a contained narrative and more of a series of scenes from the dog’s perspective. There are some quality gags, of course, and a surprisingly bittersweet tone and ending, but since I find anything featuring this character to be absolutely golden this was a can’t-miss for me. More Dug, please. (4:42)

Deluxe DVD + Digital Copy

Taking the two shorts from the previous version and combining them with a few extras, this edition features a separate disc with a digital copy of the film for your home PC or mobile device. The added bonuses include:

Adventure Is Out There – If you’ve never appreciated the efforts that Pixar visual and story artists go to in the creation of their films, you will after this documentary featurette. To understand the world of their story, the Pixar artists trekked to the tepui plateaus of Venezuela. There, they scaled 2000-foot sandstone cliffs to explore these mile-high islands in the sky. Their adventures revealed an amazing world; the tepui contain bizarre and otherworldly terrain as well as an isolated and self-contained ecosystem. The climate is unpredictable, as well; having reached the top of Kukenán tepui via helicopter – their guides estimated that less than 100 people had ever visited the site – a storm descended that stranded several artists in a downpour. I’ll leave the terrible secret of their shelter for you to discover – an animator’s life ain’t easy. A great featurette. (22:16)

Alternate Scene: The Many Endings of Muntz – The closest this set gets to deleted scenes, this featurette discusses the various ways that the directors considered to get rid of their antagonist at the end of the film. It’s interesting to hear the filmmakers discuss the purpose of the villain in their films, but I think that some of the other concepts they explored for Muntz’s demise were more interesting thematically than the version they eventually chose. (4:55)

Audio Commentary – Director Pete Docter and Co-Director Bob Peterson provide the feature-length commentary track. I’ve only listened to excerpts so far, but the filmmakers pepper the track with lots of details about the film’s creative process and the various concepts that were created and discarded along the way. It illustrates how difficult the creative process can be, and how many iterations these films go through on their way to the screen.

Blu-Ray Edition + DVD + Digital Copy

The most complete version of Up is this release, which combines two Blu-Ray discs (the film, and a disc of extras) with the deluxe edition DVD and a fourth disc with a digital copy of the film. The MSRP on this set is a very unfriendly $45.99 – especially shocking since all of its features should have been included on the lesser editions – but since the set can be found at an enormous discount at most online retailers it’s still the one to get. The features added in this edition include:

Blu-Ray Disc One

Cine-Explore – The audio commentary is the same as that on the DVD release, but on the Blu-Ray it’s accompanied by picture-in-picture visual elements that help illustrate the points that the filmmakers are discussing. It’s a good way to combine development art, story sketches, and behind-the-scenes footage with the film itself.

Blu-Ray Disc Two

Geriatric Hero – This featurette discusses the development of Carl Fredrickson, and the considerations involved in animating a senior citizen. (6:23)

Canine Companions – More Dug! This time, we see the work that animators did in studying both the appearance and behavior of dogs in order to create the canine inhabitants of Paradise Falls. (8:27)

Russell: Wilderness Explorer – In which is depicted the creation of Russell and how the animators worked with voice actor Jordan Nagai to develop the character. (9:02)

Our Giant, Flightless Friend Kevin – Since everyone else gets a featurette, why not Kevin? This discusses the inspiration behind and creation of the giant feathered fellow. (5:06)

Homemakers of Pixar – Much thought was given to the creation of Carl and Ellie’s home, and that’s discussed in this featurette. Designers and filmmakers incorporated many elements of their own grandparents’ houses, some of which are pointed out here. (4:35)

Balloons and Flight – From Carl’s balloons to Muntz’s dirigible The Spirit of Adventure, the element of flight is critical to the film. Filmmakers talk about the inspiration behind and execution of these elements. (6:26)

Composing for Characters – The various leitmotifs of the film’s score are discussed, as is their use throughout the film. (7:40)

Alternate Scene: Married Life – Discussion of and deleted elements from the montage of Carl and Ellie’s life. All great stuff to see. (9:12)

Up Promo Montage – Various interstitials created for different outlets to help promote the film. (5:51)

Worldwide Trailers – Includes two trailers for the film: Theatrical Trailer #2 (1:51) and Theatrical Trailer #3 (2:32). What about #1? The world may never know.

There’s also, as always, an interactive game for the kiddies – Russell’s Global Guardian Badge Game. But Progress City has a strict embargo against the interactive games. We shall say no more.

In Summary…

It’s a great movie. Although the extras are sub-par for a Pixar release, it’s still a great movie. Get the Blu-Ray combo pack, even if you don’t have a Blu-Ray player, and even though the typical Blu-Ray packaging irritates me as always. Just make sure you look around and find it somewhere that you can buy it at a price close to the plain vanilla DVD edition.

Ten films in, and Pixar is still knocking them out of the park. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Click To Buy: Single DVD, Deluxe DVD, Blu-Ray

It’s hard to argue that any individual or individuals, aside from Walt himself, has had a greater effect on the musical history of the Walt Disney Company than Richard and Robert Sherman. Of course there have been many prominent and highly talented songwriters at the studio both before and after the brothers’ tenure there, and several iconic composers and orchestrators such as George Bruns and Buddy Baker, but few if any can claim to match the sheer size of the Shermans’ catalogue. In fact, the scope of their creations is so vast and their presence so ubiquitous that one can tend to overlook it – their songs are so ingrained in the Disney experience that it’s hard to conceive that they weren’t always there.

For those of us who might need a reminder of just what the Shermans managed to achieve, or those who know these songs well but had never bothered to think about their origin, Walt Disney Records has recently released a 2-disc set of the songwriting duo’s work that brings together 59 tracks from their four decades writing for the company. Newbies will be shocked that all these songs were written by the same individuals, and even long-time fans will be taken aback by the sheer amount of iconic music. One hopes they’ll also actually stop and think about the songs themselves; removed from the context of their individual films or attractions, the songs are allowed to stand on their own merits and the result is fascinating.

The Shermans occupied a niche in musical history that has in many ways disappeared; they were the only staff songwriters Disney ever had, in one of the last studio music departments in Hollywood. From their father, Al Sherman, they inherited a firm rooting in the Tin Pan Alley tradition; this seems to have melded in their style with more modern pop influences, Broadway, and music hall traditions. Listening to so many of their songs together, their style reminds me more than anything else of Cole Porter; their lyrics are witty and verbose, and almost always narrative or conversational in tone. There’s wordplay, alliteration and lots of rhyming, as well as a predilection for invented words. While the production on some of these tracks might be dated at times, the songs themselves remain sharp as a tack.

The Sherman Brothers Songbook is yet another superlative release by Walt Disney Records to be produced Randy Thornton, who is almost singlehandedly responsible for reviving the company’s moribund park album and classic film soundtrack efforts. Here Thornton follows up his 1992 audio retrospective, The Sherman Brothers: Disney’s Supercalifragilistic Songwriting Team, by expanding the number of tracks and presenting the pieces in chronological order – from the 1958 Annette single Tall Paul to their work on The Tigger Movie in 2000. Thornton also wrote the liner notes for the discs, which do not discuss each individual track but rather provide an anecdote from the Shermans’ experiences on each film, television or theme park project.

What’s startling about The Sherman Brothers Songbook is not only the amount of songs present, but the number of things that were left off. This is not to fault the release; think of it merely as a very thorough “greatest hits” compilation and not a replacement for the many soundtracks and collections this release was pulled from. Fans who have bought every Disney music collection over the last twenty years won’t find too many unexpected shockers here, but that’s not the point. This, in many ways, is the Disney version of the Beatles’ One – the essential tracks, masterfully presented.

I cannot tell you how much this picture amuses me. Clockwise from top left: Brian Wilson, Tutti Camarata, Annette Funicello, Robert Sherman, Richard Sherman, Al Jardine, Mike Love, Carl Wilson, and Dennis Wilson. (Disney)

That’s not to say there’s no room for obscurities on this album. The two discs, combined with the Shermans’ snappy and concise Tin Pan Alley songwriting, allow for a whopping 59 tracks. Wisely, from a collector’s standpoint, Thornton substitutes in less-known versions of certain songs for their more often heard soundtrack counterparts. Thus, instead of the cuts from the film we get Louis Armstrong performing Ten Feet Off the Ground from The One and Only Genuine Original Family Band, and Anne Shelton singing It Won’t Be Long ’til Christmas from The Happiest Millionaire. This wealth of material is made possible by Disney’s publishing strategy at the time, which involved two record labels – Buena Vista Records and Disneyland Records. Buena Vista was the “flagship” label, offering premium titles, cast soundtrack albums, and albums by prominent artists. Disneyland Records was in charge of budget titles, releasing albums targeted mostly at children. They also released a second tier of soundtrack albums, featuring covers of a film’s songs by a variety of studio musicians and vocal groups. This arrangement allowed for the labels to release a wide variety of music in its heyday, not all of it derived directly from Disney films. Three songs from one of these albums, all covers from the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, appear on The Sherman Brothers Songbook as bonus tracks. An astounding number of “civilians” believe this MGM film to be a Disney production, and it’s not surprising when you hear the songs. Thankfully, Disneyland Records recorded a cover album at the time, and so these three non-Disney songs by the Shermans can take their rightful place in this collection.

Another rarity from the collection indicates an enticing potential direction for future releases; instead of including Annette’s version of Strummin’ Song from The Horsemasters, Thornton includes a fun demo version of the tune with Annette in the studio with Richard Sherman. While a lot of outtakes would have seemed out of place in a mass-market title like this, one can only imagine the hours upon hours of demos, alternate versions, and scads of unreleased songs by the Shermans that sit in Disney’s vaults. This is a great two-disc collection that serves, in the end, to whets fans’ appetites for a huge box set or series of releases.

Of the music itself, there’s not much one could say that hasn’t been said. The songs sounds great, though; producer Thornton is a stickler for quality and the pieces sound as unblemished and clear as the day they were recorded. Everyone will have their own favorites, and a track or two that they skip over more often than not. Listening with fresh ears will lead you to rediscover the songs or find new favorites; I still can’t get over how truly excellent On the Front Porch from Summer Magic is, despite having heard it many times previously. The disc also features the stateside debut of a track intended for EPCOT Center and eventually used in Tokyo Disneyland; Meet the World is, I believe, the Shermans’ “stickiest” song ever – more addictive, even, than it’s a small world. It’s true.

Rather than try and rate things here with a star or numerical system, I’m going to simply recommend if you should buy, borrow, or bury them. The Sherman Brothers Songbook is a definite buy for any fan of Disney films, animation, or theme park music. Even if you have most of these tracks in your library, having them remastered and collected in one place, along with the rarer tracks, is worth the price of admission. One can only hope that Walt Disney Records continues the trend we’ve seen this year, with the World’s Fair set and now this collection. There is a lot of music waiting to be heard, and this disc represents some of the best.

The Sherman Brothers Songbook is available here.

The Sherman Brothers Songbook
Disc One

1. Tall Paul from the album Annette
2. Pineapple Princess from the album Hawaiiannette
3. The Flubber Song – The Absent-Minded Professor
4. The Parent Trap – The Parent Trap
5. For Now For Always – The Parent Trap
6. Let’s Get Together – The Parent Trap
7. The Wonderful World of Color (Main Title) – The Wonderful World of Color
8. The Spectrum Song – An Adventure In Color
9. The Green with Envy Blues – An Adventure In Color
10. Strummin’ Song (Rehearsal Version) – The Horsemasters
11. Although I Dropped $100,000 in the Market – Symposium on Popular Songs
12. I’m Blue For You (Boo Boo Boo Boo Boo) – Symposium on Popular Songs
13. Castaway – In Search of the Castaways
14. Enjoy It! – In Search of the Castaways
15. On the Front Porch – Summer Magic
16. Femininity – Summer Magic
17. The Ugly Bug Ball – Summer Magic
18. The Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room – The Enchanted Tiki Room, Disneyland® Park
19. It’s a Small World – The New York World’s Fair
20. There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow – The New York World’s Fair
21. A Spoonful of Sugar – Mary Poppins
22. Chim Chim Cher-ee – Mary Poppins
23. Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag) – Mary Poppins
24. Supercalifragilisticexpialidiocious – Mary Poppins
25. The Monkey’s Uncle – The Monkey’s Uncle
26. That Darn Cat – That Darn Cat
27. Winnie the Pooh – Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree
28. Up, Down and Touch the Ground – Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree
29. Little Black Rain Cloud – Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree
30. I Wan’na Be Like You (The Monkey Song) – The Jungle Book
31. Trust In Me – The Jungle Book
32. My Own Home – The Jungle Book

Disc Two

1. Fortuosity – The Happiest Millionaire
2. Valentine Candy – The Happiest Millionaire
3. Are We Dancing – The Happiest Millionaire
4. It Won’t Be Long ‘til Christmas – The Happiest Millionaire
5. The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers – Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day
6. Heffalumps and Woozles – Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day
7. The Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down – Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day
8. Ten Feet Off the Ground – The One and Only Genuine Original Family Band
9. The Happiest Girl Alive – The One and Only Genuine Original Family Band
10. ’Bout Time – The One and Only Genuine Original Family Band
11. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang – Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (BONUS TRACK)
12. Hushabye Mountain – Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (BONUS TRACK)
13. Me Ol’ Bam-Boo – Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (BONUS TRACK)
14. The Aristocats – The Aristocats
15. Scales and Arpeggios – The Aristocats
16. She Never Felt Alone – The Aristocats
17. The Age of Not Believing – Bedknobs and Broomsticks
18. Portebello Road – Bedknobs and Broomsticks
19. The Beautiful Briny – Bedknobs and Broomsticks
20. One Little Spark – Journey Into Imagination, EPCOT ®
21. Makin’ Memories – Journey Into Imagination, EPCOT ®
22. Magic Journeys – Magic Journeys, EPCOT ®
23. Meet the World – Meet the World, Tokyo Disneyland®
24. Pooh’s Lullabee – The Tigger Movie
25. Whoop-De-Dooper-Bounce – The Tigger Movie
26. Your Heart Will Lead You Home – The Tigger Movie
27. Walt Disney and The Sherman Brothers Sing – Progressland Promotional Film

For about a week now I’ve been immersed in the world of 1941 thanks to J.B. Kaufman’s excellent new book South of the Border with Disney: Walt Disney and the Good Neighbor Program 1941-1948. I had hoped to have a full interview ready by today, when the book arrives in stores, but my little danse macabre with the flu kept me in bed for about three days and I’m a little behind schedule on everything. I thought about rushing through the rest of the book to meet deadline, but figured that you guys can wait because I’m savoring this one.

Long story short, and I can tell you this without having finished, is that my recommendation is going to be a strong “must-buy”. Kaufman is an expert on Disney’s early career, and pushes into the studio’s so-called Golden Age to bring us the tale of Walt’s 1941 trip to South America with a group of his artists and story men. He also gives thorough coverage of the films that resulted from these efforts, including those that never made it off the drawing boards.

I’m going to stop now lest I plow ahead and write my review right here, but I cannot recommend enough that you go ahead and pick up a copy, or help Progress City out and order online. Even if you’re more a fan of the parks than of animation, the book is a fantastic window into a time when the studio was at the peak of its artistic and cultural power. It also provides a wonderfully human look at these artists who time has turned into legendary figures. The only criticism I can extend so far is that I want more – of everything! – but Kaufman can hardly be blamed for that considering the book’s already sizable length.

For a little more on “El Grupo” and their adventures in South America, while you wait for my full review, Alain Littaye has helpfully pulled a series of photographs documenting the trip from LIFE Magazine’s online archive. There are some great snapshots of Walt, and artists such as Mary and Lee Blair, Herbie Ryman, Norm Ferguson and a very young Frank Thomas. For more on the films that the trip inspired, I recommend checking out Foxx’s archives at Passport to Dreams, and this great article by Jeff Pepper about an unfinished short starring Donald Duck and Jose Carioca.

I have one last note, for our readers in North Carolina and southern Virginia. Some of us in the area are looking for a local theater that is willing to screen Ted Thomas’s Walt and El Grupo. So far, the closest engagements have been in Washington, D.C., but the filmmakers would love to get it in a wider release. As the best independent theatre in the area is the Carolina Theatre in Durham, we thought we’d focus our efforts there. If anyone reading this is in the region and is interested, please drop the theater a call or an email and ask them to book the film!