High Art

Incredible. Extraordinary. Majestic. Phenomenal. Unbelievable. One blubbers through accolades in the attempt to define it because one thing is certain: Fantasia 2000 is a marvelous, beguiling, awe-inspiring, pick-your-own-superlative entertainment of the highest order.

It’s more than entertainment, really; in its own right, Fantasia 2000 is – unquestionably and free of hyperbole – a true work of art. Like its revolutionary predecessor sixty years ago, this latest Fantasia incarnation is an animation renaissance for its time.

And I didn’t even get to see it in an IMAX theater.

Released exclusively on January 1, 2000 in the aforementioned venue, Fantasia 2000 went on to break IMAX box office records, earning an unheard-of $50 million-plus during its release. No doubt the Disney name and Fantasia label had a lot to do with that, but that kind of money in a limited theatrical run can only be made through return visits, and it’s abundantly clear as to what kept bringing people back: you’re not going to get an experience like this anywhere else.

Before getting into the heart of my opinion, it is very important to note the following: when going to Fantasia 2000, one must not attend under the auspices of going to a “movie”. Rather, as with the first, you must enter the theater in the mindset of this production being a concert. That’s exactly what it is, after all, as is apparent by the original’s working title – The Concert Feature – and even more so the format itself.

To go in under normal precepts would be setting yourself up, potentially, for an improper reaction. There is no singular linear story, this is not a normal Saturday night at the movies, and it’s more than just a series of short films, too. It is film, concert music, painting, animation, literature, mythos, and technological sculpture all fused together into a singular, exquisite presentation. Fantasia 2000 is a balletically violent collision of artistic mediums, exploding into a wholly unique and visionary aesthetic entity unto itself.

Walt Disney’s original vision was to have Fantasia be an ongoing franchise, a fresh one popping up every so often, mixing new segments with old ones. While the continuation was stifled far beyond his hopes (the first was considered a disaster in its time, so much so that Disney himself apologized to investors and stockholders), the structure for subsequent sequels has remained. Fantasia 2000 delivers seven brand new pieces and one from the original – the classic “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”.

The segments also follow one of the three same guidelines as was set out in 1940, and again at this film’s beginning, and those three kinds of music are: the kind that tells a definitive story, the kind that has no specific plot but does (more or less) paint a series of definite pictures, and music that exists simply for its own sake (defined by such basic titles as “Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5”, which opens this version). As far as story line is concerned, each animated tale generally follows the specificity or vagueness that the music piece suggests.

The first Fantasia followed Point 3 (the kind that exists simply for its own sake) more than any other, really, so in spite of some rather brilliant animation, watching it could be become a sort of daze at times. This new Fantasia wisely has most of its segments follow closer to Point 1 (the kind that tells a definite story) and is the better for it. Yes, as heretical as it may sound, Fantasia 2000 is even better than its predecessor. That improvement can be largely attributed to more distinct narratives in the given pieces, thus engaging specific emotions rather than general ones that respond to broad ethereal beauty only.

While it’s still a concert first and foremost, Fantasia 2000 is more of a film than the original was. The stories told range from the simple to the complex (both in plot and character depth), but in some form or fashion they all have at least a semblance, if not a distinct, arch to them. This makes for an absorbing and superior experience all around, as well as making it an even more rewarding concert event which is, at its core, what this film is. The brevity of the segments, in comparison to those from the 1940 original, also helps make for a brisker, tighter pace.

Upon its release at year’s beginning, some critics chided the occasional appearances of entertainment folk such as Steve Martin, James Earl Jones, and others. The objection, essentially, was that Disney insulted its audience by thinking we must be pacified by talking heads. I found this criticism to be unfounded; like any concert, a conductor introduces each selection, often adding wry humor into the mix. That’s exactly what the cast of stars does here, they just happen to be various famous people rather than a single conductor. Their appearance fits in the flow and construct of a concert feature and, if anything, they only add to our enjoyment of the event.

Every individual segment is a triumph on its own particular merits and goals, yet there’s no doubt that each person will walk away with his or her favorites, too. As for me, those two segments would definitely have to be the second selection and the finale. Ottornio Resphigi’s “Pines of Rome” is played against the visual aura of whales that begin in the depths of the sea and, eventually, taking flight in a hulking but graceful flock. The backdrop of Resphigi’s rousing music mixed with these breathstealing visuals of grandeur literally causes the spirit to soar.

The finale essentially equals that effort in every regard. Set to Igor Stravinsky’s “Firebird Suite – 1919”, this stirring conclusion tells a mythical tale of life, death and rebirth. It covers the gamut of those cycles with a stunning pictorial composition that is both haunting and divine. It does get momentarily dark and even scary, much in the same way that the original’s “Night on Bald Mountain” did, so if that sequence was too much for your younger children then this might be as well. Nevertheless, everything here is validated by the depth of its artistry and everything it represents. The piece’s continuation also substantiates this darkness as the segment (and film) crescendos to a rapturous finale that inspires so profoundly.

The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, under the direction of maestro James Levine, performs each piece as magnificently as one could hope for. Like the original, the music is the film’s only sound, and what a resplendent soundtrack the Chicago Symphony makes it. The animators certainly do their parts, too, creating images and actions that flow precisely and even specifically to individual notes and orchestrations. It is a lustrous marriage of sight and sound.

Fantasia 2000 is a glorious work truly fit for the discerning arts connoisseur that also, in the process, raises the artistic standard of the masses. No matter your background, you’ll find yourself wanting to applaud every segment just as you would a concert performance. The film’s only negative is an all-too-short 75-minute running time; the experience is so absorbing that you yearn its continuance for at least two more numbers.

But if anything, this criticism is ultimately praise, and it’s virtually impossible to find fault with any of the present content. Fantasia 2000 is a modern standard bearer not only for animation, film, music, or other specific artistic mediums, but for Art itself. Make the effort to go during its limited four-week run – which ends on Thursday, July 13th – because, without question, this is a theatrical experience not to be missed.