Melody Time

1948

Directed by Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske, and Jack Kinney

Welcome back to Movie Monday! Since this is the first Monday of the month, we’re taking our traditional break from exploring cinematic disasters to cleanse our palates with some classic Disney animation. Today, we’re diving into one of Disney’s lesser-known treasures: 1948’s Melody Time.

If you’ve never heard of Melody Time, you’re not alone. This musical anthology film sits in that curious period of Disney animation history when the studio was producing what they called “package films” – collections of shorter segments tied together by a theme rather than feature-length narrative stories. While this format might seem strange to modern audiences used to cohesive storytelling, there’s a fascinating historical reason behind it.

During World War II, with many of Disney’s animators serving in the military and overseas markets disrupted, the studio needed to find creative ways to keep producing content while working with limited resources. The result was a series of anthology films, with Melody Time emerging as one of the last entries in this unique chapter of Disney’s history.

Think of Melody Time as Fantasia’s more accessible cousin. While Fantasia paired animation with classical music, Melody Time opts for popular and folk music of the 1940s. The film consists of seven distinct segments, each bringing its own flavor to the mix, ranging from romantic winter tales to surrealist jazz numbers to American folklore.

Let’s break down these segments, shall we?

“Once Upon a Wintertime” kicks things off with a romantic winter escapade featuring ice skating, young love, and, because this is Disney, some parallel animal romance. Frances Langford’s vocals carry us through this dialogue-free piece that manages to pack quite a bit of drama into its brief runtime.

“Bumble Boogie” might be the film’s most experimental segment, featuring a poor bumblebee trying to survive a jazz-infused reimagining of Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumblebee.” It’s a surrealist delight that wouldn’t have felt out of place in Fantasia.

The film’s longest segments focus on American folk heroes. “The Legend of Johnny Appleseed” gives us Dennis Day narrating and singing the tale of John Chapman, the frontier nurseryman who became an American legend. It’s a charming piece that balances whimsy with genuine heart, though modern viewers might raise an eyebrow at its heavy-handed religious themes.

“Little Toot,” sung by the Andrews Sisters, anthropomorphizes a young tugboat trying to live up to his father’s legacy. If you’re thinking this sounds like a prototype for “The Little Engine That Could,” you’re not far off, though this tale takes some surprisingly dark turns for a children’s story.

“Trees” offers a visual interpretation of Joyce Kilmer’s famous poem, showcasing some innovative animation techniques. The studio used frosted cels and direct pastel application to create a unique visual style that hadn’t been seen in animation before.

“Blame It on the Samba” reunites Donald Duck with José Carioca from The Three Caballeros, adding the chaotic Aracuan Bird to the mix. After this segment, Donald Duck would not return to feature films until 1988’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

The film closes with “Pecos Bill,” featuring Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers telling the tale of the legendary cowboy to two young listeners (played by Disney regulars Bobby Driscoll and Luana Patten). This segment has become somewhat notorious in Disney history due to its censorship controversy – more on that in a moment.

The film’s reception upon release was mixed, with some critics praising its technical achievements while others found it less compelling than Disney’s narrative features. Time Magazine celebrated its global scope, while others appreciated its charm and skill in entertainment. Modern critics tend to view it as a mixed bag, with some segments standing out while others feel dated or forgettable.

One of the most interesting aspects of Melody Time’s legacy is its journey through various home video releases. The film wasn’t released on home video until 1998 – a full 50 years after its theatrical debut. When it did finally reach home audiences, controversy erupted over the decision to digitally remove all instances of Pecos Bill smoking from the U.S. release (though international versions remained uncut).

The good news for animation purists and historical completists is that Disney+ now streams the uncut version of the film, cigarettes and all. Additionally, a Disney Movie Club exclusive Blu-ray released in 2021 presents the film in its original, uncensored form. This decision to preserve the original content, while adding appropriate content warnings, represents a more mature approach to handling dated elements in classic animation.

Melody Time might not rank among Disney’s most memorable features, but it represents an important chapter in the studio’s history. It showcases some of the most innovative animation techniques of its era, provides a fascinating glimpse into immediate post-war American popular culture, and demonstrates how Disney managed to keep creating during one of its most challenging periods.

The film also serves as a reminder that Disney animation wasn’t always about princesses and fairy tales. Sometimes it was about experimental jazz bees, tugboat coming-of-age stories, and cowboys whose cigarettes may or may not exist depending on which version you’re watching.

For modern viewers, Melody Time offers an interesting window into both animation history and American popular culture of the late 1940s. While not every segment lands with equal impact, there’s something undeniably charming about watching Disney’s animators experiment with different styles and approaches to musical storytelling.

Whether you’re an animation history buff, a Disney completionist, or simply curious about this often-overlooked piece of the Disney canon, Melody Time is worth seeking out. Just remember to appreciate it for what it is: a product of its time that, while imperfect, showcases both the challenges and creative solutions of a studio in transition.

See you next week when we return to our regularly scheduled programming of cinematic disasters!