Disney Movie Reviews #7: The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (Part One)

(not in order of appearance)

Oh, geez.

Okay, I'm going to level with you. I've taken a pretty high-level approach to these reviews so far, only letting my raw emotions come through in little bursts, doing my best to keep a generally neutral, objective tone. The point, after all, is to provide an unbiased look at where each movie fits into Disney's canon, in terms of creative energy and artistic success. And that should be pretty fun! Except...

For the most part, the movies we've done so far, I knew what I was getting into. With the exception of Make Mine Music, I'd seen them all before. Yes, there were some surprises in how I felt about some stories on re-watch, and I was completely unprepared for how good much of the animation would turn out to be. But generally, I knew I would be experiencing a quality product. And even though there were some hiccups, I felt Disney's financial woes in the 40's adequately explained those.

And I mean, of course a movie would have to be good to be generally beloved by people who'd seen it, and to earn its own ride at Disneyland/world! Right?

But no. That was a mistake. And the proof is in the tragically froggy pudding.

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad is two short films packaged together. They don't have anything to do with one another. I wasn't even sure I should review them. But then, I wanted to give them a shot, and understand what was behind the now-defunct Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. To keep things manageable, I'm going to aim this review at Mr. Toad (which comes first when viewing, despite the title), and a forthcoming one will cover Ichabod.

Mistakes were made.

I have a lot of trouble understanding this one in the context of previous Disney movies. This is our first protagonist who's in no way a child, who lives in his own right as an adult of means, and he's completely selfish. You might expect this to be a morality tale, a fable where he learns the error of his ways and comes to appreciate others.

Duck!!!!

But you'd be wrong. This is a story about a rich frog repeatedly jeopardizing his safety and fortune, as well as the lives and property of his neighbors, for a few yuks. His friends try to talk him down from it, but they can't get through to him. Here, he's careening around the countryside, terrorizing poor English countryfolk with a giant wagon hooked to his new friend Cyril Proudbottom. The best thing about Cyril is his entry on the Disney Wiki:

I do not agree with their assessment of his alignment.

In the aftermath of his reign of destruction, Toad abandons his friends, letting them deal with hundreds of fresh lawsuits caused by his running rampant over mailboxes, chicken coops, children &tc. Toad espies a fresh obsession in the form of a sweet new automobile, and decides he simply must have one.

Disneyland did a great job! The only thing they forgot was the air of STAGGERING SELF-CENTEREDNESS.

Toad tracks down the car's drivers, a bunch of weasels hanging out in a bar owned by the model citizen Mr. Winkie. The affable amphibian purchases the car on the spot, in exchange for nothing less than the deed to his ancestral manor house, Toad Hall. Later, it turns out the car had been stolen, so Toad is arrested.

Race is a completely invalid basis for predicting criminal behavior. Species is fine; weasels are awful.

There's an extended trial, jailbreak, and chase sequence, but I can't in good faith say that it amounts to very much, aside from a few goofy visual gags (and a horse in drag). Mr. Winkie testifies that Toad made no deal with him, and instead offered to sell him the stolen car. Off to jail Toad goes!

Finally, right where he belongs.

I have a certain standard which applies to all movies, and it is this: a bad movie is one where, if the hero is in danger, you find yourself rooting for him or her to die. Mr. Toad fails to rise above this standard.

In making his escape from prison, Toad steals a train. The police respond, to my view, appropriately.

Alas, Toad survives his jailbreak, finally making contact with his friends again. I hate to admit it, but in the matter of the car theft, Toad is indeed innocent. He and his friends therefore invade Toad Hall, now occupied by Mr. Winkie and his weasely company, so they can steal the deed back and prove that Toad purchased the stolen automobile from Mr. Winkie without knowing its criminal past. Does this make sense? Why are the criminals able to live in Toad Hall without anybody wondering what they're doing there? Well, most likely they're just relieved to have anybody but Toad as a neighbor. At least the weasels will just steal your stuff instead of running it over with a wagon.

Plus, these guys really know how to party!

There's a wacky shootout and the deed is reclaimed. Toad is restored to his rightful place in society, and immediately takes up aeroplane piloting, as is totally reasonable and not likely to result in any death or devastation.

Last premortem photo of J. Thaddeus Toad, Esq. & equine companion.

So that's Mr. Toad. If it seems I was too harsh on the little guy, bear in mind that his friends have more dialogue complaining about how awful he is than he himself speaks. Believe it or not, Disney toned down the selfishness. In the source material, it seems Toad went well beyond simple maniacal joyriding. The book relates how he'd crashed multiple cars, been hospitalized several times for it, and in fact he does steal the car that became the subject of the movie, no quibbles about his true innocence necessary. And while I'm truly glad that's not the movie we got, the animated Mr. Toad fares little better.

Story aside, the animation is fine, though it comes across a little cheaply in parts (though not as bad as the worst of Dumbo or Make Mine Music). Mr. Toad and his animal companions all have a great deal of charm to their movements. And in fact, I adore the way the weasels are animated, as though their entire bodies are looking at you sideways. For that matter, the humans look pretty good too.

The crown prosecutor is as delightfully malevolent as any you could hope to meet.

But nothing ever really rises above the level of charming, unless you have a particular penchant for sleepy English countrysides. And the slapstick is through the roof, which makes it hard to take any of the supposedly dramatic stuff too seriously, or feel as if the frequent fights and shootouts have much in the way of stakes. Everything's in such good fun, it's just a shame that's in service to such an unlikable and inconsiderate little toad of a toad.

There's not really any music worth mentioning, and in the end, the whole affair feels much like another easy cash-in on Disney's part (though, in their defense, the project was brought to them). But looking forward (and back), it's easy to understand why this is among the least-mentioned of Disney productions, and it firmly deserves a spot near the bottom of the canon in terms of quality. And I'm not alone in thinking this -- Disney put production on hold multiple times in order to try to bring the quality up and salvage the work.

Mole removal was more of an art than a science back then.

In the end, only packaging it with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow was enough to get Mr. Toad out the door. The reception was much more positive than any impression I may have given so far would lead you to expect, and I think most of that has to do with the second part, because this first part does nothing but spin its wheels.