THE BLACK CAULDRON: Blu-ray (The Walt Disney Company, 1985) Disney Club Exclusive
Few animated films have so completely missed their
mark as The Black Cauldron (1985); a thoroughly fractured, if valiant
effort to grow the Disney brand from its ensconced ‘family’ entertainment
banner, but with abysmally second-rate results. From a purely technological
standpoint, the picture broke new ground, in part due to David W. Spencer’s
impressive photo transfer process, to enhance the way in which rough hand-drawn
animation was transposed onto celluloid – first, photographed onto
high-contrast litho film, then, with the negative copied onto plastic cel
sheets to eliminate the time-honored, but time-consuming process of hand-inking
each cel. This was yet another step in the xerographic process developed by Disney
in the late fifties, and first to emerge on the studio’s beloved classic, One-Hundred
and One Dalmatians (1961). Spencer, in fact, won a technical Academy Award
for his process, to be rendered moot almost immediately with the debut of
computer animation. And The Black Cauldron’s delayed release after much
of it was already in the can, nevertheless allowed it to become the first
animated feature to dabble in these new computer-generated SFX. Alas, good special
effects do not a box office dynamo make.
There are several ‘better’ reasons why the Walt Disney
Company’s 25th animated feature sunk like a stone at the box office.
Narratively, it is among the weakest of the studio’s offerings, owing to too
many creative and non-creative types mucking around with the particulars of its
source material: Lloyd Alexander’s The Chronicles of Pyrdain. Despite
some gorgeous background artwork leaning toward the Ralph Bakshi strain into
more adult-themed artistic fare, the bigger problem here is Disney Inc.’s
unwillingness to go whole hog into precisely this kind of PG-13 fare,
desperately needed to shore up the company’s hemorrhaging blood lines, then,
considered passe or worse, hopeless out of touch with what audiences wanted to
see. So, we get Disney characters, cleaved from their stock and trademarked ‘cutesy’
cupboard, cut and pasted into this infinitely darker tale. Based very loosely
on Alexander’s first two books of his five-part Welsh mythology, The Black
Cauldron is a disastrously conceived, and even more mundanely executed –
and expensive – misfire for Disney at a time when the company could scarcely
afford one, with its most anemic folly being the obscurely defined, pubescent would-be
hero, Taran (magnificently voiced by Grant Bardsley, though with precious
little to actually say) and Thumbelina-eque, Eilonwy (voiced by the annoying
and chirpy, Susan Sheridan). Alas, it is next to impossible to craft a ‘romance’
between this boy, not yet old enough to shave, and a forthright girl who,
nevertheless, completely lacks every virtue instilled in all those time-honored
Disney heroines of yore. Truth to tell – Walt always had more success framing
stories around a strong female with the guy on the side, and princes be damned.
The other difficulty here is Alexander’s stories and their re-conception for
the movie, shamelessly riffing off of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings
and Hobbit anthologies. Viewing The
Black Cauldron today, one is immediately put off by its plagiaristic likenesses
of the shire, fairies and widgets, and, the Mordor-esque quality of The Horned
King’s dimly lit, towering lair. Why not simply attempt a Tolkien tale instead
of this thinly disguised knock-off?
Marked as the first Disney feature to be recorded in
true Dolby Stereo, The Black Cauldron is an inelegantly assembled and
often excessively noisy claptrap, superficially set in Alexander’s fictional
province, to follow the misguided efforts of our nominal hero, swine herder, Taran,
as he aspires to a man’s bravery in reclaiming a magical cauldron whose powers
may be used by darker forces to conquer the earth. Along the way, we also meet
Taran’s kindly mentor, Dallben (Freddie Jones), and a curious ball of hair
called, Gurgi (John Byner) who, in his greedy, covetous and cowardly temperament
at the outset of our story can be viewed as a barefaced, if more cuddly
reincarnation of the Gollum character from Tolkein’s tales. Assigned by Dallben to guard a seemingly
insignificant piglet possessing clairvoyant powers when its snout is plied to a
bucket of water, Taran comes to recognize too late the mission he has been granted
by Dallben is as great and as grave as all creation. The Black Cauldron
was directed by Ted Berman and Richard Rich, enjoying their success with Disney’s
The Fox and the Hound (1981). But its incubation was not to be smooth or
satisfying. Indeed, production notes on The Black Cauldron date all the
way back to 1973, when the studio first acquired the rights to Alexander’s
novels. Repeatedly stalled, The Black Cauldron entered its official
preliminary phase in 1980, with a scheduled Christmas 1984 release. Jeffrey
Katzenberg, then the ill-fated head of Disney animation – a process and a
production facility he neither understood nor, frankly, respected, was unimpressed
by Berman/Rich’s original cut, including the picture’s ominous climax which he
believed would completely alienate and/or terrorize the company’s core audience
– children and families. To this end, Katzenberg ordered severe cuts to the
picture, effectively to emasculate its potential as a ‘grown-up’s cartoon rather
than one squarely aimed at the kiddies.
Despite these excisions, The Black Cauldron
would receive a PG-rating – a first for a Disney cartoon, though alas, proving
Katzenberg at least knew his audience when the picture was openly savaged for
its uncharacteristically bleak and disjointed storytelling. Budgeted at $44
million, making it the most expensive animated feature to date, The Black Cauldron
only grossed $21 million, placing the once venerable animation department on
the company’s short list of assets now turned into liabilities, possibly to be
shuttered for good. Indeed, owing to its embarrassing performance, The Black
Cauldron was immediately shelved and, unlike other Disney ‘classics’ endlessly
peddled on home video, did not even get a release until 1998. Ironically, this improved
its cult following, if hardly its reputation, as one of the company’s MIA holy
grails. Yet, in hindsight, The Black
Cauldron’s one unforgiveable sin seems to be ‘bad timing. Had it been
allowed to go into development under the create aegis of veteran animators, Ollie
Johnston and Frank Thomas, in 1973, the movie might very well have kick-started
a renaissance for the company. The biggest concern, however, was Alexander’s
meandering and intricately woven storylines, to follow the progress of thirty
characters – an impossible ensemble for any Disney animated feature. Worse,
artist, Mel Shaw’s impressive conceptual pastel sketches illustrated a level of
craftsmanship impossible for the downscaled animation department to reproduce. So,
in 1978, The Black Cauldron officially went into a sort of self-imposed ‘turnaround’,
still with a planned 1984 Christmas release. Original concept art by Vance
Gerry, depicting the Horned King (eventually voiced by John Hurt) as a portly Viking
was scrapped while the studio hired Brit-screenwriter, Rosemary Anne Sisson to
telescope Alexander’s sprawling narrative.
From here, The Black Cauldron’s gestation would
only become more chaotic. John Musker was pitched by production head, Tom Wilhite,
to helm the project, but was then taken off it almost immediately when his
proposed early sequences proved too broadly comedic for the overall dramatic
arc of the story. Animation directors, Art Stevens, Richard Rich, Ted Berman,
and Dave Michener were then brought in, arousing the ire of company CEO, Ron
Miller, who believed the top-heavy spate of top-tier talent only served to
dilute a more singular vision necessary to successfully carry it off. Stevens
was replaced by Miller with Joe Hale, a longtime layout artist, now serving as
producer. Tossing out character artwork developed by Tim Burton, Hale re-hired Rich
and Berman, the trio settling on the studio’s Sleeping Beauty (1959) as
their visual inspiration, and, coaxing Disney alumni, Milt Kahl out of
retirement to work on character designs for the principal characters. Now, Hale
and story artists, David Jonas and Al Wilson began tinkering with the narrative,
causing Sisson to depart the project, citing creative differences. Similarly, Musker
and co-director, Ron Clements retired from the fray to begin development on The
Great Mouse Detective (1986).
The Black Cauldron opens with a prologue
narrated by John Huston. In the land of
Prydain, Taran, a fatherless boy living on a small farm owned by Dallben, dreams
of becoming a famous warrior. Learning of the Horned King’s demonic quest to
possess the ancient black cauldron in order to raise an army of the undead against
mankind, Dallben realizes his clairvoyant pig, Hen Wen, might be used to reveal
the whereabouts of this mythical pot. So, Dallben directs Taran to take Hen Wen
to safety. Unfortunately, Taran's ego and daydreaming supersede the importance
of his mission and Hen Wen is easily captured by the Gwythaints, the Horned
King's dragon-esque creatures. Now, discovering Gurgi, who desires nothing but
the ripe apple concealed in Taran’s vest, Taran makes his way to the Horned
King’s fog-shrouded lair. He is easily captured and imprisoned in the catacombs,
discovering a kindred spirit in Princess Eilonwy, who, despite her own
detainment, has found secret passages that allow her to roam freely within the
castle’s dungeons, but never actually to escape from them.
Inside the catacombs beneath the castle, Taran and
Eilonwy discover the ancient burial chamber of a king whose magical sword Taran
claims for his own to do battle against the Horned King’s minions. Along with another prisoner, the doddering Fflewddur
Fflam (Nigel Hawthorne) Taran and Eiloway launch a daring escape, pursued by
the Horned King’s Peter-Lorre-esque goblin, Creeper (Phil Fondacaro) and the Gwythaints.
Following Hen Wen's trail, our band of would-be warriors encounter the Fairy
Folk, benevolent sprites whose King Eidilleg (Arthur Mallet) reveals the whereabouts
of the black cauldron. Diverging in their interests, Taran elects to go on,
discover the cauldron and destroy it, while the Fairy Folk escort Hen Wen back
to Dallben’s farm. However, at Morva, Taran discovers the cauldron is presently
held by three crafty witches - Orddu (Eda Reiss Merin),
Orgoch (Billie Hayes) and Orwen (Adele Malis-Morey), the latter, falling in
love with Fflam. Taran trades his magic sword for the cauldron before being
told that the only way it can be destroyed is to climb inside it, which will
likely prove fatal. The Horned King appears and uses the cauldron to raise his
army from the dead. Mercifully, Gurgi, who presumably ran away in fear, now
returns to rescue his cohorts. Sacrificing himself into the cauldron, Gurgi’s martyrdom
prevents the Horned King’s army from rising. Blaming Taran, The Horned King
attempts to toss him into the cauldron too. Alas, the cauldron’s magnetic pull drags
the Horned King into its vortex-like brew, killing him instantly and destroying
the castle. The three witches claim the black cauldron. Taran urges a trade –
his magic sword for Gurgi’s life. After some consternation, the witches comply –
restoring Gurgi to health, who now accompanies Taran, Eilonwy and Fflewddur on
the long journey home.
The Black Cauldron is not
altogether an artistic failure. But its oft intricate and hand-painted
backdrops are severely hampered by the studio’s insistence on time-honored
archetypes of the soft and round Disney cut n’ paste/ink n’ paint class of cuddly
character, thereupon diffusing the potency of its more adult-themed arteries to
superficial chalk and nonsense. The characters who populate are feature-less
fops. The most fearful creation, the Horned King, with its corpse-like visage
and beady glowing red dots in the middle of soulless, dark sockets, is
nevertheless withheld from any sincerely threatening acts, leaving his glower
about the spookiest, and, most foreboding asset, rarely exploited to its
fullest. Gurgi is a real ‘nothing’ of a companion to our hero, eclipsed by the vacuously
good nature/non-descript Princess Elionway (drawn to resemble a diminutive and prepubescent
Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty). Taran, expertly voiced, is
nevertheless, underwhelmed by a screenplay repeatedly to diffuse and minimize
his importance. Here is the boy who should become a man by the final fade to
black, and, by virtue of his lion-hearted deeds. And yet, more often than not, cobbled
together events and detours set in his path allow for only the most threadbare hint
Taran will ever grow up to be the great warrior he aspires to. Worst of all, The
Black Cauldron is a movie in which not a single character endears
themselves to our hearts.
Immediately following its sneak peek test screening,
Katzenberg ordered Hale to drastically recut and reshape the narrative, fearing
the experience was ‘too intense’ for young children. Hale refused, so
Katzenberg relieved him of his duties and proceeded to enter the editing suite
himself. Newly appointed CEO, Michael Eisner implored Katzenberg to reconsider.
And although this executive edict delayed Katzenberg in his efforts, it did not
prevent his wishes from eventually being carried out, cancelling The Black
Cauldron’s originally intended Christmas release and moving the marker to summer,
1985. Shorn of 12-minutes, to thoroughly emasculate its more ‘violent’ moments,
the attempts by Katzenberg and Eisner to play it safe with the toddler sect did
much to dampen the spirit, not only of the piece, but the animators who had
toiled to make The Black Cauldron an ‘un-Disney-like’ departure from
their usual fare. To this end, the studio had hired legendary
composer/conductor, Elmer Bernstein to write the original score. The Black
Cauldron is, in fact, notable for being the only Disney cartoon not to
include any pop tunes, but rather a dramatic orchestral underlay to augment its
action. Alas, due to all the last-minute pruning, much of Bernstein’s efforts
were scrapped or, in fact, never used. Although a soundtrack album was released
at the time of the picture’s theatrical debut, containing the complete
Bernstein score, it quickly disappeared from view, marked by musicologists as
an impressive effort, though one, nevertheless, to be completely overlooked by
the audience.
Viewed from a vantage almost 40-years removed from its
own, time, and the picture’s virtual absence on home video (Eisner and Disney
Inc. considered it a grotesque misfire and embarrassment to their brand and
quietly tried to bury it), have not improved The Black Cauldron’s
prospects as a bona fide Disney classic. If anything, the picture now plays
like a badly dated Disney knock-off, with too many similarities to the past to
make it genuinely unique, but without enough effort to offer a distinction that
classifies it as a true departure from their status quo. Point blank: The
Black Cauldron is, and likely will forever remain, a hot mess never to find
its comfort level with the audience. Made available as a Disney Club exclusive,
The Black Cauldron arrives on bare-bones Blu-ray in a fairly impressive
1080p transfer, culled from elements that appear to have been immaculately
preserved over the years. Color fidelity
and saturation are superb, extoling the virtues in the movie’s plush backgrounds.
Alas, the razor-sharp imagery also reveals shortcomings in the actual animation
which, at intervals, takes on the distinct cost-cutting flavor of a Saturday
morning Hanna-Barbera serial. One of the virtues invested in all the great
Disney classics under Walt’s tutelage is their precise adherence and recreation
of both humans and animals via a painstaking and awe-inspiring study of life in
all its grand and gesticulating fluidity. Much of this time-honored mastery is
owed the expert draftsmanship of animator, Marc Davis whose work on the studio’s
Sleeping Beauty (1959) in particular has never been rivaled. In Davis’ absence,
and to pare down the time taken to make an animated feature, Disney has gone
for a ‘broader’ reinterpretation of the art, basically, to cheapen it
considerably to expedite the timeline from concept to theatrical release.
On Blu-ray, The Black Cauldron’s animation
looks…well…cartoony, or rather, not as finely crafted or as polished as
the work gone before it, or, in fact, much of what was soon to follow in the
studio’s renaissance classics: The Little Mermaid (1989), Beauty
& The Beast (1991), Aladdin (1992), The Lion King (1994),
The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1995), and, Hercules (1997). Contrast
on the Blu is excellent. Owing to the studio’s misguided aspiration to make
even their classic features appear as smooth as a cartoon conceived yesterday,
some tinkering has been done to homogenize this image, expunging it of any hint
of naturally-occurring film grain, though mercilessly, not to achieve the ugly,
waxy mess that remains the Blu-ray release of The Sword and the Stone
(1963). The 5.1 DTS audio sounds impressive here, with bursts of orchestral
flourish and SFX that attack from the rear and side channels. Good stuff, actually.
Odd choice for the Disney Club, to include a Donald Duck short – Trick or
Treat (1952) which has no connection to The Black Cauldron
whatsoever. There's also a 'deleted' scene - actually, a pencil test assembly of something that was likely never shot, but ironically, none of the excised 'completed' footage that was shorn by Eisner after the sneak peak. Go figure. Were that Disney Inc. would get off its lump and start making all
of their classic Mickey/Donald/Pluto, etc. et al shorts available in hi-def,
and soon! But I digress. While the efforts exerted on this Blu-ray are solid,
the feature itself remains a dud. The Black Cauldron has not improved
with age and does not reflect upon the studio’s very best efforts to entertain
us with the timeless art of animation. Regrets.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
1
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
1
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