THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN: Blu-ray (Walt Disney Pictures, 1985) Disney Club Exclusive

When it was released in 1985, promotional art for Jeremy Paul Kagan’s The Journey of Natty Gann declared it, “Unforgettable…undeniable…Disney.” That the movie managed to thoroughly live up to its claim, and, the valued hallmarks in family entertainment inculcated by the studio, to hark all the way back to Walt’s own craftsmanship in his heyday, was perhaps as thoroughly gratifying as it substantiated a most welcomed surprise and return to form. After all, Walt Disney Pictures had not produced a totally memorable live-action movie in quite some time. Despite some valiant efforts between the old mogul’s death in 1966 and 1985, the consistency of quality was lacking, belabored by some high-profile flops that put a distinct strain on the company’s coffers (as well as applying considerable tarnish to its reputation as purveyors of ‘family’ fare). This was due, at least in part, to an ironic change in the times and tastes of the movie-going public. Suddenly, Walt’s particular brand of wholesomeness had fallen hopelessly out of favor. A change in the company’s top management, another applied to its foundering business acumen and Disney Inc., for all intent and purposes, steadily began to claw its way back from the brink of bankruptcy throughout the 1980's. Diversification helped; new boss, Michael Eisner instituting a fragmentation of the film output, exclusively released either via the Walt Disney Pictures or Touchstone brands.

All the more impressive then, The Journey of Natty Gann came across as thoroughly ole-fashioned (in the best sense of that word). Buoyed by a winsome performance from newcomer Meredith Salinger, as the wide-eyed, if determined innocent, given a crash course in the hardships of the Great Depression, an inspirational underscore by James Horner (whose compositions replaced those originally written by Elmer Bernstein), and, Dick Bush’s utterly gorgeous cinematography, capturing some of the most startlingly dramatic master shots along the BC Rail, The Journey of Natty Gann emerged as, perhaps, the most perfectly realized ‘family film’ of the 1980's; genuine in its sentiment, compelling in its narrative, and quite simply, beautiful to look at in all its artful, Thomas Cole-inspired compositions. Paul Sylbert’s production design is ‘spot on’ perfection, as are Michael S. Bolton’s art direction, Jim Erickson’s set decoration and Albert Wolsky’s costume design, cumulatively to capture the essential, grit and clutter of a shanty town-plagued generation, populated by stern, yet stout-hearted men and women, stalwartly refusing to throw in the towel and crumble under the pressures of seemingly insurmountable hard times.

The Journey of Natty Gann is a tale of self-reliance and self-discovery, capped off by a heartwarming and teary-eyed bond of reunion. Along this harrowing path, passing through some of the most exotic and uniquely ‘American’ landscapes, a young tomboy is taught the value of friendship by the unlikeliest companions – a grey-haired, golden-eyed wolf (played by Jed), whom she saves from the brutalities of a staged dogfight – and, hinted at bittersweet romance between the 15-year-old Natty and 20-something Harry (John Cusack), a youthful tramp who repeatedly defends the girl’s honor. Employing superb storytelling economy, as Natty’s journey evolves over many days and nights, but only takes an hour and forty minutes to actually tell on the screen – this gallant trek seems far more emotionally grand, as director, Kagan delivers an infinitely arresting saga that never fails to enthrall. Ultimately, the success of this minor masterpiece rests squarely on the slender shoulders of 15-year-old Meredith Salinger; an intuitive star at the outset who conveys wounded pride, forthright determination, heart-sore yearning and bull-headed resolve in tandem; a real ‘kid’ of these Depression-era streets with a heart as pure as gold. Salinger’s steadfastness in the role serves Natty’s unbreakable bond with her father, Sol (Ray Wise) who is forced to temporarily abandon the girl to Connie (Lainie Kazan giving us shades of Little Orphan Annie’s ‘Miss Hannigan’) a heartless proprietress of the hotel where the Ganns reside.

Convincingly to encounter virtually every major obstacle on her cross-country quest, including a narrow escape from death after a train derailment, and, incarceration in a brutal workhouse for her part in a botched cattle rustling, there is not one step in Natty’s odyssey uncomplicated, nor able to detour our diminutive heroine. It may seem a little queer to refer to any father/daughter relationship as ‘passionate’. But Natty and Sol are inseparable. Despite the vast expanses that momentarily part them, Natty is staunchly invested. Nothing will prevent her. And thus, our journey with her begins. Jeanne Rosenberg’s screenplay is a masterclass in how to parcel off run time, stretching barely two hours into a never tedious and seemingly days’ long expedition. The Journey of Natty Gann really does take its audience on a trip, at once, satisfying the mind, while burrowing deep into our collective hearts with an emotional intensity, far to outlast its brief stay on the screen. There is not a frame wasted, nor an instance when we do not feel anything less than an immersive compassion for this clear-eyed girl. Natty’s struggles are relatable and timeless: particularly when the world beyond seems determined to see us fail, and yet, still appeals as exhilarating, if terrifyingly infinite.  

Set at the height of the Great Depression – 1935 – our story begins in Chicago with a meeting of unionized workers at a local steel mill. The employee’s representative, Sol Gann has given the bosses an ultimatum the company will not abide. As the heated debate among workers continues, in a bathroom stall young Natty is sharing a stolen cigarette with two cohorts, Louie (Zachary Ansley) and Frankie (Jordan Pratt). But when Frankie accuses Natty’s dad of being a ‘commi’, Natty attempts to pummel him silly. Mending her bruised cheek from this fight, Sol is proud of his daughter. It has not been easy raising a girl alone. Still, Natty and Sol get by. While Sol hangs out at the local employment agency, hoping for work, Natty spends her days wandering the crowded streets, befriending Sherman (Scatman Crothers), a local vendor who advises her on the virtues of prudence. But when Sol gets a last-minute call for steady employment as a lumberjack in Washington, he leaves Natty behind without a goodbye, and, worst of all, in the care of the shallow-hearted Wagnerian-built, vulgarian, Connie, who does Sol this one favor because she once hoped to lure him romantically – also, because he is paying her, with the promise to mail Natty a train ticket to rejoin him just as soon as he can earn enough money to pay for it.

Life with Connie is not easy. Indeed, she is cruel, impatient and generally resentful of Natty. After observing Frankie and his family being evicted from their tenement, and partaking of the mob assault on the police, Natty is brought back to the hotel by a couple of officers, much to Connie’s chagrin. Deciding for herself that Sol is not coming back, and, quite unwilling to play ‘mother’ to the girl any longer, Connie telephones a local orphanage to report an abandoned child. Overhearing this call, Natty breaks out of her locked room, tying bedsheets together to lower herself from a second-story window to ground level. She hurries to the depot and attempts to board a moving train bound for Washington. Saved from certain harm by Harry, another hobo already inside the boxcar, the two become briefly acquainted. The next morning, Natty narrowly escapes being caught by the rail yard police. She stumbles into town and a nearby paddock where a rabble of jeering men are engaging a wolf and a Doberman in a ruthless dog fight. The wolf kills its competitor and escapes recapture, aided by Natty. Sneaking back to the depot and another boxcar, Natty is confronted by the growling wolf, already aboard.  As a peace offering, she places a half-rotten/half-eaten apple, early stolen from the garbage for her own dinner, for the wolf’s consideration. Meanwhile, Sol learns from Connie that his daughter has run away.

Spending the night asleep inside a cement sewer pipe traveling on the moving train’s flatbed, Natty is awakened when the cars suddenly derail in the middle of the wilderness, sending her tumbling to the ground. Barely surviving a series of hellish explosions, Natty’s wallet is later discovered among the wreckage; Connie passing along the grim information to Sol – that his daughter likely died in the blast. Unwilling to accept this, Sol journeys to the site. And although no remains are discovered, Sol is forced to admit the likelihood of Natty’s survival is slim. Ah, but even he has underestimated his daughter. Natty has endured, spared starvation by the wolf who, having eaten her apple the night before now deposits a freshly killed rabbit at her feet, presumably to return the favor, before vanishing into the woods. An impromptu storm forces Natty into a hollow cave where she again encounters the wolf. Exhausted, scared but recalcitrant, Natty refuses to go out in the rain. She awakens some hours later, newly refreshed to find the wolf has lain down to provide her a cushion while she rested. The wolf and Natty cross many hills and valleys together, their bond of loyalty growing stronger with each passing hour.

At one point, the wolf attempts to deliver Natty to a local farmer (Frank C. Turner) and his pregnant wife (Verna Bloom). Alas, this respite is short-lived when the farmer, mistaking the wolf after his hens, tries to shoot him. Natty bravely defends her friend from the buckshot and scurries with the wolf into the woods. A short while later, Natty falls into a bad lot of dime store ruffians, fronted by Parker (Barry Miller); a sort of Depression-era Fagan, who enlists wayward and discarded youth for the purposes of common thievery. After providing Natty with food and temporary shelter, Parker orders her to climb into a pen and usher a prize bull toward their nearby waiting truck. Unhappy circumstance that, while Natty and wolf are successful in their partaking of this theft, Parker and his brood (Grant Heslov, Gary Riley, Scott Andersen, Ian Tracey and Jennifer Michas) do not wait for either of them to catch up. Natty is captured, convicted of the crime of cattle rustling and remanded to a juvenile detention center. Wolf is taken in chains and awarded to local blacksmith, Charlie Linfield (Bruce M. Fischer), who bears a horrible facial scar.

Life in the detention center is strictly regimented by a trio of stone-faced matrons (Gabrielle Rose, Marie Klingenberg and Kaye Grieve) who brook no nonsense from their pintsized inmates. Natty’s defiance lands her in solitary confinement. Nevertheless, she befriends Twinky (Hannah Cutrona), a waif several years her junior, who helps in her escape to freedom through a drain pipe. Arriving at the blacksmith by night, Natty confronts Charlie as to the wolf’s whereabouts. In reply, the imposing, but kind-hearted Charlie releases the animal from his paddock. Wolf and Natty are reunited and Charlie affords Natty enough money to buy a ticket on a real train to complete her trip in style. Again, fate intervenes as the Station Master (Alex Diakun) recognizes Natty from her description in a police circular. Overhearing him telephone for the authorities, Natty vanishes without a trace, resurfacing sometime later with wolf in tow, and again, making her pilgrimage on foot. She is picked up by a man in a truck who tries to molest her. Wolf springs into action and saves Natty from ruin; the pair, staging a terrifying escape from the careening truck.

A short while later, Natty and the wolf arrive at a desolate shanty town beneath a grubby train trestle. Momentarily reunited with Harry, who offers Natty his pot of cooked beans with no strings attached, their reunion is cut short when the bullwhips arrive by the truckload to destroy what they consider a blight on their community, beating up the destitute men who live in the shanties and burning down their squalid shacks. Meanwhile, Sol, still grieving over the ‘loss’ of his daughter, makes a bitter request of his logging boss (John Finnegan) to assign him the most perilous job in the camp; top-cutter of the towering pine trees, effectively nicknamed ‘widow’s work’ as it often leads to accidental death. Now, Harry and Natty make their way to the coast. Harry is exuberant after finding work through the federal Works Progress Administration in San Francisco. He sees this as his new beginning. But his pride is wounded when an offer to have Natty accompany him is rejected. She needs to find her father first. Natty makes the last length of her cross-country tramp with the wolf, undeterred when the logging camp’s workmen’s manifesto does not list a Sol Gann among its employees. The company’s human resource manager (Sheelah Megill) admonishes Natty for her inquiry at first. But after the girl makes it halfway up the mountainside, the manager’s heart softens considerably and she agrees to do her level best to locate Sol Gann.

Indeed, a small company of men are still high atop the mountain, assigned a perilous mission to detonate explosives to remove the last remnants of buried stumps, otherwise irremovable from the land. Natty travels aboard a truck towards the site as Sol and his team prepare to detonate these charges. Alas, the dynamite is prematurely ignited, causing an epic explosion that severely wounds the men. Having stalled in her ride, Natty hears the echoes from this upsurge, assumes the worst, and witnesses as a truck carrying the men – among them, her father – hurries down the mountain, determined to get these wounded to hospital. Unable to intercept the truck, Natty cries out for her father, not knowing whether her tearful shouts are being heard. Valiantly, she trudges downward, only to witness the truck already several miles below and still racing towards base camp. Mercifully, Sol has not accompanied it. He appears, almost miraculously from behind; as yet, in total disbelief his daughter has found him. Sol and Natty are reunited. From a respectful distance, the wolf quietly observes, before disappearing, presumably for the last time, into the woods. Each of these travelling companions has found their true home.

The Journey of Natty Gann is an extraordinarily heart-felt celebration of life. If the picture has a flaw, it intermittently suffers from precisely the sort of joyfully forgivable and wholesome, fresh-faced hokum that used to permeate Disney films en masse. Case in point, a pensive moment where the cynical Harry observes as a belated wolf races alongside their speeding rail car, repeatedly informs Natty, “He’ll never make it.” When the animal majestically leaps from a craggy embankment, sailing through the air, outwardly with little effort through the open door, Harry’s pessimism instantly melts away as he declares with a smile, “He made it!” For those old enough to remember, there remains a genuine and palpable ‘Grizzly Adams’ quality to this slice of starkly bucolic Americana – untapped in the movies during this interim; Dan Haggerty’s bearded woodsman and Ben the bear traded for this wisp of a girl and her devoted four-legged compatriot.  Ironically, although set in Depression-era America, virtually all of The Journey of Natty Gann was shot in Alberta and British Columbia, Canada, its resplendent rural grandeur captured by cinematographer, Dick Bush with a painterly eye for achieving masterful compositions, virtually absent since the likes of imminent film-maker, David Lean departed the industry.

Undervalued in its own time, as it grossed only a modest profit of $9,708,373, and virtually unseen anywhere after its brief reprieve on network television, truncated and severely cropped as part of ABC’s Disney Sunday Movie lineup, The Journey of Natty Gann was granted an abysmal reprieve by Disney Home Video in 1997: a thoroughly awful DVD, cropped in pan and scan, with wan colors that could not even hint at the once exhilarating pictorial value in Bush’s cinematography. But now, after far too long an absence, comes the hi-def Blu-ray debut via Disney’s ‘exclusive archive’. The results, while light years beyond anything since its theatrical engagement, are still less than perfect. The chief transgressor here is film grain. It never appears indigenous to its source; clumpy and thick during sequences shot at night/all but non-existent during brightly lit scenes. Mercifully, none of the image is marred by excessive DNR, and fine details abound in virtually every frame.

There are minute traces of edge enhancement, very slight and not distracting, but present nonetheless. Color fidelity is exceptional, the predominantly dingy palette of Depression-riddled grey/brown cities and shanty towns contrasted by some of the lushest greenery, splashes of blood red, and stark, snow-capped mountain-scapes that simply take one’s breath away. Flesh tones appear slightly pinker than anticipated and are rather artificial in tone. Contrast is superb with deep, velvety blacks, and crisp whites. Oddly, the soundtrack is 5.1 Dolby Digital, not DTS; a genuine shame, since James Horner’s score would undoubtedly benefit from this upgrade to lossless audio. What is here sounds really good, if not altogether outstanding. As with all other ‘archive’ releases, there are NO extras. Pity that! The Journey of Natty Gann deserves a comprehensive 'making of' featurette. It is family entertainment of the highest order. This Blu-ray, while not ideal, is superior to every home video presentation gone before it. It should be considered a Christmas stocking stuffer for both the young and young in heart. To see The Journey of Natty Gann again, and in all its Panavision glory, sincerely warmed my heart. Truly, it never entirely left it since 1985 – always the hallmark of a great movie. Now I remember why. Bottom line: Very highly recommended.  

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

0