Dig A Little Deeper Episode 1 - Transcript
- Mar 29, 2024
- 26 min read
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Here is the full script for the podcast episode. I hope you enjoy!
Setting The Scene
Get ready to delve into the world of media production and music analysis. Welcome to Dig a Little Deeper. I’m your host Hannah Matthews, a musician with an educational background in audio production, and I’m so excited to take you on this journey. Let’s begin.
It’s 1987, and staff members of the writing and animation departments are gathered in one of the many buildings within the new “temporary” Disney animation facility in Glendale, California. They’re here to listen to Howard Ashman, a new recruit to the project that they have been conceptualizing for a while. He’s seen some success within similar industries, but has only partially contributed lyrics to one other Disney film, Oliver & Company. Still, the animators gather over lunch to hear Ashman’s ideas about the film. What ensues is possibly one of the most important lectures in modern Disney history and would set the company on the path to financial success for years to come.
But to understand how this was such an impactful discussion, we have to take a few steps back. Why was Ashman, a lowly lyricist, in charge of this meeting? What led the Disney company to be in such a dire situation? And what does any of this have to do with an alien plant species?
History of Disney Animation
The Walt Disney Production Company is well known for its ability to shape the way the general population views family-friendly movies and has been a pioneer in the field of animation since the 1930’s. From its beginnings with synchronized sound shorts like Steamboat Willie, the studio’s work has always been associated with popular music that helps define the historic moments of its classic films. When looking back at the history of the company, you can clearly see how its success over the years was impacted by the influence of the company’s namesake, Walt Disney, which explains why the company started to go downhill after his passing in 1966.
The films produced by the studio can be loosely grouped into eras, based on their quality and success. There’s the “Golden Age" in the late 1930’s with films like Snow White and Pinocchio. Following that, movies released in the “Wartime Era” of the 1940’s consisted of smaller vignettes loosely packaged together, such as Make Mine Music and The Three Caballeros. The 1950’s brought the “Silver Age,” the return of full-scale movies such as Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, all the way up to The Jungle Book, the final film to have any influence from Walt himself.
The “Bronze Age,” the period following the passing of Walt Disney, saw a decline in quality previously mentioned, utilizing weaker plots and recycled animation that would never have been allowed under Walt’s supervision. The Bronze Age is also when the tone of the studio’s movies started to turn darker as the films tackled more hard-hitting issues, and as a result, the beloved orchestral soundtracks with a sweeping choir along with the catchy tunes sung by the characters that defined the earlier years were shelved. Movies like The Aristocats and the Fox and the Hound are the more successful of the bunch, but the box office flop of The Black Cauldron nearly sent the studio under.
One of the main reasons behind the decline in quality was a constant rotation of leadership of the studio’s executive board. Without Walt’s clearly established leadership and control, many projects lacked a clear coherent vision. In the book Mouse in Transition, Disney writer Steve Hulett reflects on his ten years working at the Walt Disney Animation Department during this period. The book portrays the rapid succession of leads on projects, leaders within the animation department, and amongst the executives of the company.
The movies released in this period were not designed to push boundaries or be engaging like the movies produced under Walt Disney. They were primarily designed to get people in seats at the theater with an engaging trailer, but not an engaging story. You can see this in the slow pace of these movies, and how they stuck to the same animation techniques that they had always done. They wouldn’t risk breaking the mold of animation, better to stay in their lane and recoup their investment.
After the animators’ strike in 1982 over the outsourcing of production work, the animation department continued its downhill fall. The main production studio turned to live-action films like Herbie Goes Bananas and Tron, and the animators shifted their focus to serialized shows for the new Disney Channel, like Adventures of the Gummi Bears. The biggest shakeup came in 1984, with the entrance of executives Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg. With them at the helm, the animation department was relocated from Burbank to a collection of temporary trailers in Glendale. This was seen as the last straw for many in the animation department, especially those who had worked alongside Walt Disney, and watched as the studio gave them less and less support for their upcoming projects. The future of animation at Disney was looking dim.
Enter directors John Musker and Ron Clements. After losing out on work with the Black Cauldron team, they were brought on to adapt The Basil of Baker Street, itself an adaptation of Eve Titus’s take on Sherlock Holmes. Along with story supervisor Pete Young, this film’s production mainly centered on Young’s imaginative and expansive storyboarding ideas for each scene, and even implemented the first instance of computer-generated imagery (CGI) in the climax of the film, depicting a fight scene within the moving gears of Big Ben.
The resulting film, The Great Mouse Detective, was released in 1986 and brought back the spirit of pushing boundaries within animation. Musker and Clements became favorites for following Disney projects. The next one that these directors would take on was another well-known tale, but they would need another pair of great minds to bring it together.
Little Shop of Horrors
Across the country from Walt Disney Studios in California is the Great White Way in New York, home of Broadway and the country’s most popular productions of Musical Theatre. Another lesser-known duo had just wrapped up one of the longest runs in off-Broadway history, with a show named Little Shop of Horrors: music by Alan Menken, book and lyrics by Howard Ashman.
This was the first project of Ashman’s to see greater success. He had worked with Menken on a couple other projects, but these hadn’t gained much traction. With Little Shop, Ashman and Menken had finally hit gold. Structured around the 1960 black comedy film of the same name, this production was the first showcase of Ashman’s talent with structuring a musical, particularly when it comes to the placement of songs within scenes.
For more amateur, campy productions, a character suddenly bursting into song isn’t so out of the ordinary, even if it isn’t very authentic to the character’s current emotions. In Ashman’s works, a character may be talking with someone, when they begin monologuing passionately, and their dialogue morphs fluidly into a song, aligning with the emotions of the scene.
This can be best seen in the “I Want” song of Little Shop, Somewhere That’s Green. This song is sung by Audrey, the female lead and love interest of the protagonist, as she describes her dream of living the ideal American life.
A matchbox of our own /
A fence of real chain link /
A grill out on the patio /
Disposal in the sink /
A washer and a dryer /
And an ironing machine /
In a tract house that we share /
Somewhere that’s green.
The setting of the musical, Skid Row, is not an ideal neighborhood that is advertised to the average American. And Audrey doesn’t have the ideal life either, trapped within an abusive relationship with one of the antagonists. She doesn’t want an extravagant life, just a peaceful one, with simple pleasures that she sees in magazines and on television. Ashman’s lyrics that merely list the desires of the character still feel like real wishes, despite their mundane nature.
A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens Magazine /
Far from Skid Row /
I dream we’ll go /
Somewhere that’s green.
Of course, as the saying goes, the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. Even if Audrey got what she wanted most, she would still find new things to yearn for, but that’s the nature of literary characters. In her chaotic life, mundanity sounds quite nice.
As the production Little Shop continued to see success in New York and beyond, Ashman began to get new opportunities coming his way, including the 1986 film adaptation of Little Shop of Horrors. This movie was produced by David Geffen, who was also one of the producers of the off-Broadway show, and it garnered a lot of positive critical reception. Among a variety of awards, this project earned the duo of Ashman and Menken their first Oscar nomination for Best Original Song.
Through these new connections in the film world, Ashman’s name was thrown around among directors and executives. One of these was a colleague of David Geffen and newly hired Disney executive, Jeffrey Katzenberg.
♫ Sidenote - Sheridan Square
When talking about events that happened in the 1980’s in New York City, there’s one looming threat that always comes to mind. The AIDS crisis is an ever-present aspect of this time in history, and Ashman was no stranger to it. Seated in the center of New York’s theater scene, Ashman and his colleagues were among the first victims of this terrible disease, as members of the gay community.
It’s hard to imagine nowadays how affected this community was by the ostracization caused by the neglect of governmental action, even as they already faced a largely homophobic general public who viewed AIDS as a “gay plague” and a moral attack upon those within the gay community.
While it was common for people living near New York to know of someone with this disease, especially as it first began spreading, Ashman had a much more personal history. Acquaintances, neighbors, and even two of his former partners, Stuart White and David Evans, were among the many young men that Ashman watched deteriorate due to complications with AIDS.
The theater has long been a place for the gay community to express themselves and their feelings of being outsiders to the rest of the world. Like the characters in Ashman’s works, songwriters have often used their lyrics to spell out their deepest emotions, in ways that other acts of grief can’t express.
In the summer of 1983, Ashman and Menken worked together on a song about how the heart of the New York gay community just outside of Greenwich Village, home of the Stonewall riots just 10 years prior, had transformed in a matter of years.
I’m sure that it must mean something /
But it’s really too soon to tell /
When somebody’s getting famous /
And nobody’s getting well /
And you can send my regrets to the party /
I’d like to make it, but just don’t dare /
And why is it still so quiet /
Tonight on Sheridan Square.
Despite only beginning to see success in his career, Ashman still felt an immense guilt about how his luck had turned out compared to those around him. Not only had the population of people changed within the neighborhood, but also the relationships between the people, as they never knew if an interaction would be their last.
Each verse ends with the question of why Sheridan Square gets quieter and quieter every year, and the answer is that the population of that area was dying off more and more. The sheer sense of loss felt by the community is reflected perfectly in Ashman’s lyrics.
I’d recommend that you listen to the full demo of the song Sheridan Square, recorded by the duo in a New York apartment. Listen to Ashman’s words as he sings, because a re-recording never captures that same emotion. It’s available on YouTube and most streaming platforms.
Oliver & Company
The next project on the docket for Walt Disney Studios was an adaptation of Oliver Twist, and was to be directed by George Scribner, with Pete Young as the story supervisor. The team took the animation techniques that they had tried out when creating The Great Mouse Detective and expanded them, utilizing Young’s sweeping shots of the city in his storyboards. But instead of being set in 19th century London, this tale took place in 20th century New York City. Who better to bring on for the film’s opening number than New York native Howard Ashman.
Jeffrey Katzenberg had already been in contact with Ashman following the premiere of the Little Shop of Horrors movie. Seeing the potential in the lyricist, Katzenberg continued to ask him to come to California to work on projects in the Disney pipeline. But Ashman wouldn’t budge, instead partnering with Tony-award-winning composer Marvin Hamlisch on a musical adaptation of Smile, a film following the process of a beauty pageant, with breakout star Jodi Benson as the leading lady.
However, this production ended up a financial and critical failure, closing before it could be taken to Broadway proper in 1985. Losing faith in his career in New York, Ashman finally took the leap and traveled to California to be put on the new project.
He immediately began working alongside musician Barry Mann to pen the lyrics for the establishing number of Oliver & Company, “Once Upon a Time in New York City.” This film’s opening number exhibits another example of Ashman’s vivid imagery that he creates within the lyrics. While it sets the tone of the movie, it also sets up a bit of tension for the main character, as the visuals depict the first events of protagonist Oliver’s life, being abandoned in the harsh weather of the Big Apple.
If it’s always once upon a time in New York City /
Why does nightfall find you feeling so alone? /
How could anyone stay starry-eyed /
When it’s raining cats and dogs outside? /
And the rain is saying, “Now you’re on your own.”
Along with the visuals, Ashman’s lyrics set up the outcast status of Oliver, and the unlucky hand that this character was dealt in life. Contrasted with deuteragonist Dodger, who spends his number expressing his carefree nature and worldview, this establishing number perfectly encapsulates the worries of the main character, and the way that he perseveres despite all the troubles that he faces.
This film's production was just as troubled as the one before it, however. It too suffered from the location change of the animation department and frequent layoffs of the animation staff as they worked to set up new roots following the departure of so many legends of the field.
On the casting side of things, this film shows the first example of casting big stars as the voices of the main characters in an animated film and using these names in promotional materials to garner public attention. Billy Joel, Bette Midler, Barry Manilow, Huey Lewis, and more account for the star-studded cast and songwriting team behind the film, a practice that many film studios had begun to develop to get more people to see their films.
This advertising practice ended up working in Disney’s favor. The film became a hit financially, and showed Disney executives that the animation department was not as hopeless as it seemed to be. Following the 1988 release of Oliver and Company, Disney announced that they would release a new animated feature annually. All seemed to be looking up for the animators of the company.
With Oliver & Company as another financially successful film on his resume, Katzenberg encouraged Ashman to start work on another Disney project that was just getting off the ground. Ashman agreed, so long as he could work alongside Alan Menken. He was able to pick between a couple of projects in the pipeline, and Ashman chose what would soon become The Little Mermaid.
Lunchtime Lecture
Which brings us back to April 28th, 1987. The animation team, still feeling the loss of Disney veterans amongst their team and reeling from the downgraded lot in Glendale that they had relocated to in the middle of producing Oliver & Company, were all sitting in a meeting room with a young scriptwriter and lyricist Howard Ashman. They were dreading another rehash of the same information they already knew about the movie they were working on. What could this guy know about the animation process that would help tell this story? Why is HE in charge of this lecture, and on their lunch break no less?
Watching the footage of this meeting, you can tell that despite any nerves Ashman might have been facing, his calm stature and wealth of knowledge about this topic make him the perfect person to talk about the story of this movie. No, he may not have known much about creating an animated feature, but he knew the history of the company’s feature films, and how it interlinked with a realm he knew well – the New York Broadway scene.
Ashman explained the intrinsic connection between the history of these two mediums – as one found success or innovated, the other would do the same, dating back to the late 1920s with Steamboat Willie and Showboat, the latter including lyrics composed by one Oscar Hammerstein II. You may know this name from the incredibly successful musicals he composed with Richard Rodgers.
Looking at a timeline of events, the golden ages of Disney and the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical sync up and mirror each other over and over. There are the first few films for Disney, starting with Snow White in 1937, then Pinocchio in 1940, Dumbo in 1941, and Bambi in 1942, which is followed by R&H’s first venture Oklahoma in 1943. R&H’s South Pacific in 1949 was followed by Disney’s Cinderella in 1950, and 1951 saw both R&H’s The King and I and Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. After 1955’s Lady and the Tramp from Disney, R&H released their own Cinderella, starring Julie Andrews, who would later star in 1959’s The Sound of Music, the same year that Sleeping Beauty came out. Disney would later feature Andrews as Mary Poppins, one of Disney’s most successful live-action musicals.
But since that period, Disney had never truly embraced the idea of an animated musical quite like those found in the Golden and Silver Ages. Music is always present, but it is more in the background, and never the priority.
It wasn’t until Oliver & Company that the essence of a musical soundtrack started to make a comeback, with Billy Joel literally singing in your face. What Ashman proposed to this group of animators was to completely merge the two mediums, an animated movie with the structure of a Broadway musical.
The staple songs of classic musical theater – an establishing number, the “I Want” song, the up number, the villain song, the lover’s ballad – were all important aspects of a film, and Ashman had crafted songs for The Little Mermaid that perfectly fit each narrative beat. He took the storyboard that the staff had been crafting, and performed songs that perfectly matched the energy of each scene, using the songs to help tell the story.
The animators and writers were all on board after hearing the convincing argument that Ashman gave in that lecture. He was promoted to co-producer of the film, working alongside directors John Musker and Ron Clements to develop the specific character traits and designs for the characters of the film, like the Shakespearian dramatics of villain Ursula and the charismatic reactions of sidekick crab Sebastian. His impact on the rest of the cast and crew was comparable to none other than Walt Disney himself.
The Little Mermaid
Ashman emphasized the importance of the ballad that protagonist Ariel sings to inform the audience of her desires, even putting in a good word for the previous star of his failed Broadway production Jodi Benson, who ended up being hired as the voice of the titular mermaid. Ashman knew that the “I Want” song was a non-negotiable staple of many successful Broadway shows and Disney musicals, like Cinderella and Snow White.
So, when Katzenberg tried to cut the number due to poor reception at a test screening, Ashman did all that he could to keep it in the film. He stood firm on his gut feeling, that this number was an essential part of understanding Ariel’s character.
Up where they walk /
Up where they run /
Up where they stay all day in the sun /
Wanderin’ free /
Wish I could be /
Part of that world.
By having the main character sing about their intentions, the audience can clearly understand the film’s central conflict and its stakes. Not only does the song express Ariel’s motivations for her actions, but it also details that she would give just about anything to make her desires a reality.
What would I give if I could live out of these waters? /
What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?
This “I Want” song takes what Ashman had done with Somewhere that’s Green and upgrades it. As the song progresses, the passion you can hear in Ariel’s voice grows and the melody soars, as the character swims closer and closer to the top of her grotto, until the song reaches a point, and Ariel glides back down to the sea floor, staring up at her dream destination. Even the final melody pays homage to the previous work.
Far from Skid Row /
I dream we’ll go /
Somewhere that’s green.
Out of the sea /
Wish I could be /
Part of that world.
Katzenberg quickly changed his tune when the final film was released in 1989 to incredible financial and critical success. The Little Mermaid received the company’s first Oscar nominations since Dumbo in 1941, and Ashman and Menken walked away from the 1990 Academy Awards with a win for Best Original Song, among many other awards.
However, Ashman would not have much more time to relish his newfound success, as he broke the worst news imaginable to Menken and Katzenberg – he had been diagnosed with HIV.
Ashman's Treatment of Aladdin
The news came from his doctor back in 1988, but Ashman kept up appearances during the later development stages of The Little Mermaid, both because he didn’t want to put a damper on the morale of the department, and because he didn’t know how Disney would react. This diagnosis was not one to take lightly, and with the stigmatization of the disease over the years Ashman knew he had to play it safe until he gained the trust of the Disney executives. His health steadily declined over the following years, and by the Oscars ceremony in 1990 Ashman was wearing glasses due to the effects that AIDS had on his eyesight.
With his Oscar win, Katzenberg and the Disney executives agreed that he was an incredibly valuable asset for their team, and essentially wrote Ashman a blank check for any projects he worked on for the remainder of his life. They relocated the development of the next film to New York, closer to Ashman’s home, and Katzenberg even ensured that Disney helped pay for any medical expenses that Ashman needed, getting him the most advanced medicines available and hiring medical staff to assist Ashman in his daily life.
While Katzenberg had put Ashman and Menken on a project handpicked by Walt Disney himself, Ashman had a second passion project that he had been working on. His next big idea was an adaptation of A Thousand and One Nights, specifically the tale of Aladdin, but with a different spin on the tale from what ended up in the final picture.
His treatment had a plot closer to what the original tale depicted, with two genies, and the daughter of the sultan depicted as a comic character and foil compared to his protagonist’s desires. His Aladdin has a close relationship with his mother, and centers the mother-son relationship, and by the end, Aladdin rejects the material wealth gained with the help of the genies and instead goes back to a life of simple pleasures.
As far as the music goes, this adaptation would have had a lot more jazz influence in its tone, calling specifically to the music of Cab Calloway and Fats Waller. This can be seen in the finalized number performed by Robin Williams’ Genie, Friend Like Me.
But, as always, Ashman’s “I Want” song for Aladdin is a true highlight of his adaptation. While the final version of the number was cut, the beginnings of it can still be heard in the One Jump Ahead Reprise, which would then transition into the gorgeous ballad Proud of Your Boy.
Proud of your boy /
I’ll make you proud of your boy /
Believe me, bad as I’ve been, Ma /
You’re in for a pleasant surprise.
Aladdin directly addresses his mother and tells her that he feels like a failure to her. This motivates his goal throughout the film to prove himself to her, and to find the success that he has been lacking.
Tell me that I’ve been a louse and a loafer /
You won’t get a fight here, no ma’am /
Say I’m a goldbrick, a goof-off, no good /
But that couldn’t be all that I am.
He’s the ideal protagonist, someone who’s rough around the edges, and is desperate enough to do anything to achieve his goals, much like the previous protagonist, Ariel.
I’ll do my best, what else can I do? /
Since I wasn’t born perfect like Dad or you /
Mom, I will try to /
Try hard to make you /
Proud of your boy.
In cutting this number, and the whole character of Aladdin’s mother, you lose a source of empathy with this character, which is made up for in the final version of the character’s selflessness and willingness to help others who are worse off than even him. But this part of him is depicted in an unspoken exchange, the opposite of this musical ballad. While it’s a more subtle approach, it misses out on something that a musical with an “I Want” song needs. This number was later added to the soundtrack when the work was adapted for Broadway and has since seen a resurgence in popularity.
Beauty and the Beast
However, the main project facing Ashman and Menken was the adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, a project that had been in the works at Disney since the 1950’s. A treatment in the late 1970’s was penned by Steve Hulett and other Disney writers at the time, based on the original story and the Jean Cocteau picture, but the film sat dead in the water for the next eight years before being picked up again.
Katzenberg figured that giving this film the musical treatment might be just what it needed to get off the ground, and asked Ashman and Menken to work their magic on this film, to hopefully repeat the success of the Little Mermaid.
Ashman took this opportunity to flex his songwriting abilities by making the opening number of the movie a large-scale operetta-style sequence, functioning as both the establishing number and the “I Want” song for protagonist Belle, the epitome of what he had discussed during that lunchtime lecture so long ago. Following the prologue sequence, the opening number begins with pastoral themes, depicting the tone of the setting of the provincial town where the story is set.
Little town, it’s a quiet village, /
Every day like the one before. /
Little town, full of little people, /
Waking up to say... /
Bonjour!
The whole number is used as proof of Belle’s outcast status. Compared to the descriptions of the townspeople, and even the copy-paste melodies that the townspeople sing, Belle breaks away from them to deviate from the established music pattern.
Oh, isn’t this amazing? /
It’s my favorite part because, you see, /
Here’s where she meets Prince Charming, /
But she won’t discover that it’s him ‘til chapter three!
She’s not just depicted as an outsider by the lyrics, but also by the melodic structure of the song.
On the other hand, the antagonist Gaston uses the same melody as the rest of the townspeople to establish his goal, or at least the goal that he has at the beginning of the film. While the dialogue also helps to set his character, what he chooses to sing is just as important.
Right from the moment when I met her, saw her, /
I said, “She’s gorgeous” and I fell, /
Here in town, there’s only she /
Who is beautiful as me, /
So I’m making plans to woo and marry Belle.
This is probably one of the most literal interpretations of an “I Want” song, but what sets this section of it apart is that it establishes the motivations for the villain, rather than the main character. In other pieces of media, the villain tends to have their own number, but tends to be more of an “I Am” song, establishing their personality and villainous traits that foil those of the protagonist (This can be seen with Rattigan’s number back in The Great Mouse Detective, and later in this film with the song “Gaston”). Once this song concludes and a couple additional scenes take place, the reprise of Belle starts up, the true “I Want” song of the film.
I want much more than this provincial life!
Our protagonist, faced with the path that the village people want her to follow, decides to literally run away from societal expectations to the grassy hilltop on the outskirts of the village. She exclaims her true desires and becomes determined to get what she wants.
I want adventure in the great wide somewhere, /
I want it more than I can tell, /
Not only does this reprise demonstrate Belle’s intentions of how she will shape her own life story, but it also expresses a closer desire of this character.
And for once it might be grand /
To have someone understand /
When Belle expresses herself, especially in these first two numbers, she is completely and utterly alone (except for maybe a few sheep). She doesn’t want the companionship of Gaston, the person who picked her out as his bride, but instead wants to find a partnership with a person of intellect that at least matches her own – someone that she can relate to on a deeper level.
By the 21-minute mark of the movie, almost 15 of which were sung through, the main conflicts and characteristics of the narrative are exhibited and the adventure is ready to take place.
♫ Sidenote - Recording The Soundtrack
Since the recording sessions were all done at a studio in New York, the soundtrack for Beauty and the Beast had the opportunity to do something truly unique amongst the other more recent Disney films. Usually, a soundtrack for a movie is recorded by isolating each instrument and vocal track, then mixing them together and overdubbing as needed in post.
With this soundtrack, the cast was able to record alongside the orchestra on the scoring stage, most of the time even standing in the same room as the musicians and crew members. In many ways, this film’s soundtrack was recorded like a Broadway cast album, and this wasn’t limited to the recording techniques either.
The cast of the film consists of many Broadway legends, such as Jerry Orbach known from The Fantasticks, Chicago, and 42nd Street, Angela Lansbury known from Mame, Gypsy, and Sweeney Todd, and Paige O’Hara fresh off her run in the Showboat revival. O’Hara even believes that her recording on the cast album of Showboat is what led to her securing the role of the main protagonist of the film, Belle. A fitting connection, since that musical is linked to Steamboat Willie as mentioned previously.
These actors know their way around the stage, and how to sound just as expressive in their recordings as they are in person. In a time before pitch correction was as seamless as it is today, the production staff relied on the talent of these actors to accurately sing the material given to them, and as a result, you can hear all the intricate articulations they used to give their performances personality.
All these factors put together are part of the reason why this soundtrack still holds up to this day, even after years of reinterpretations and re-recordings. Ashman’s dream of producing a legitimate animated musical film was becoming a reality.
Saying Goodbye
Ashman and the team would continue to work on draft after draft of the film, composing music and lyrics on his literal death bed in the hospital. After fighting the disease for three long years, Ashman passed away on March 14th, 1991, nine months before the release of the final film.
An unfinished version of Beauty and the Beast premiered at the New York Film Festival the following September and was met with a ten-minute standing ovation. When the final film was released, it included a dedication to Ashman’s work with Disney. It has since become one of the most beloved Disney films, receiving incredible critical acclaim and financial success.
Most notably, this film received a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Picture, the first animated film ever to receive such a nomination, and in a time before the category of Best Animated Feature even existed (that started in 2001). At the 1992 Oscars ceremony, Ashman’s life partner Bill Lauch accepted the posthumous award for Best Original Song, stating “This is the first Academy Award given to someone we’ve lost to AIDS,” a momentous occasion for the visibility of the gay community in the height of the AIDS epidemic in the United States.
Beginning with Ashman’s work on The Little Mermaid, Walt Disney Animation Studios experienced a boom in popularity and financial success, beginning the era known as the Disney Renaissance in the 1990’s. While Howard Ashman only contributed to the first three films of this line up, his songwriting partner Alan Menken worked on six of the nine total films, contributing music to Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Hercules, the latter of which was directed by iconic duo John Musker and Ron Clements, who also ended up directing the final version of Aladdin. Even after Ashman’s passing, the essential structure of the musical was present in all the following animated films of the Disney Renaissance, which helped contribute to their success.
The Implications
What lessons can we learn from these films that can be applied to modern musical film adaptations? Firstly, the realm of Hollywood’s musical films has been no stranger to adaptation of media in the public domain. Walt Disney and R&H were well known for adapting common folk tales, like those of the Brothers Grimm, and this practice did not devalue their work.
Looking at the films studied in today’s episode, all of them were adaptations as well. Charles Dickens, Scheherazade, Villeneuve, and Hans Christian Andersen are among the authors of the original tales. What sets these adaptations apart is their unique spin on the well-known classics. What could have been a copy-paste adaptation of Oliver Twist made all the characters dogs and set itself in New York. Take the original tale, bend it a bit, add in that Disney magic, and you now have a new experience, told with breathtaking visuals and stunning music.
However, musical movies that have come out in recent years seem to not quite grasp the art of adaptation that was perfected in the 1990’s. Looking at the Disney live-action remakes, most are scene-for-scene line-for-line recreations of the original movie, and any changes made are done to pander to the theory-buster audience of the internet, or to try to get an Oscar nomination for Best Original Soundtrack or Best Original Song (a tactic that has yet to be fruitful for the company).
When adding a musical number to a film, you have to go back to the core tenets of the musical and establish WHY the song is placed where it is. What is the song accomplishing? If it’s void of purpose, it will be void of meaning, and thus will not have the same audience engagement that the songs from the original films had.
In Disney’s attempts to create new musical movies, they are also missing the mark. Specifically for 2023’s Wish, the songwriters of the film do not have the musical background of composers like Ashman and Menken, but rather a background of pop music and soundtracks. As a result, the soundtrack for the film does not have a musical feel, but instead feels like a pop album set to a plot that has nothing to do with the music.
This wasn’t just a problem in 2023 though, you can see this in past films like 2017’s The Greatest Showman, and arguably 2021’s Dear Evan Hansen. The songs in these films don’t serve a structural purpose, primarily repeating the same point over and over, making their inclusion almost pointless.
Another recent phenomenon that has gotten public attention is the way that movie musicals are marketed. Films like 2023’s Wonka and 2024’s Mean Girls showed very little indication of their musical roots in the early trailers released, reportedly because when audiences are told that a film is a musical, they are less likely to sit down and see it.
This practice has been going on for quite a while, think back to the original trailers for 2013’s Frozen that only showed Olaf’s quirky interactions, rather than the musical numbers that the film is known for now. However, it doesn’t take too much effort to identify a film that did the exact opposite, but still found remarkable success: 2016’s La La Land. Even 2012’s Les Misérables, for all of its faults, had some amazing performances and didn’t shy away from advertising as a musical film.
A good musical movie can come from anywhere, and the deceptive marketing techniques currently used only hinder the impact of the message that the filmmakers are trying to portray. If the public perceives a musical movie as bad, it is not usually the fault of the fact that the movie is a musical, but rather the failure of the filmmakers to make a good movie, rather than just a cash grab.
Finally, there’s the discussion of the legitimacy of animated films, which have long been perceived as a children’s medium. While children’s media does appear to be primarily animated, there is also a substantial amount of media made for children that are live action, Claymation, stop motion, and more.
Not to mention the expansive list of genres depicted within animated films, from documentary to adult comedy to drama to slasher. Animation is not a genre of film, it is a medium that can depict all sorts of different genres of film, and for that matter, musicals are not a genre either.
Musicals can be autobiographical, fantastical, realistic, completely fictitious, and everything in between. Putting a show like Stephen Sondheim’s Company in the same genre as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats is a fundamental misunderstanding of the difference between genre and medium.
It doesn’t matter whether a musical movie is live action, animated, or whatever medium is used. The content of the story, the integration of the music within the narrative, the visual adaptation of the material, the passion behind the actors (whether they are a big-time celebrity or merely a background voice) are the aspects that make a musical movie stand out.
Credits
I hope you enjoyed this first episode of Dig a Little Deeper. I had a lot of fun researching and putting this together for you, and I hope you were able to learn a bit about the making of musicals and animated features.
For further reading and analysis, visit my blog linked in the description of this episode (omg you already did that!). You’ll find all the citations to the articles I referenced during this episode, access full versions of the songs I recorded, along with full interviews with the guests I included in this episode, and links to further reading, listening, and watching about this topic.
Have a suggestion for a future episode? I have a Google Form linked in the description as well, and you can suggest new research topics, songs, artists, and more for me to cover in this podcast.
Thank you so much to all of the musicians who contributed to this episode:
Vocalists – Kaitlyn Buckmaster, Lars Krosby, Julie Picasso, Raul Romero, Benjamin Sykora, Ainsley Williams, Audra Wright
Piano – Elena Mitchell
Drums - Tomas Gerlach
Bass – Aidan Guzman
Woodwinds - Benjamin Sykora and Melanie Wedige
Thank you to those who helped assist in recording and producing this episode:
Sabrina Becker
Jasmin Campos
Aidan Guzman
Tomas Gerlach
Callijo Hushka
Elena Mitchell
Benjamin Sykora
Melanie Wedige
Thank you to everyone who helped review the script and edit the content of this episode:
Mark Erickson
Dr. Cynthia Gonzales
Annabelle Bamberger
Siobhan Higgins
Elena Mitchell
Ainsley Williams
This podcast was written by me, Hannah Matthews, who also composed, arranged, and recorded all the background music used. The arrangements and recordings of musical examples used in this episode are protected under Fair Use.
All content from this episode of Dig a Little Deeper was recorded at the Fire Station Studios in San Marcos, Texas.
This has been your host Hannah Matthews, and thank you, listener, for coming on this journey with me. I’ll see you the next time you decide to Dig a Little Deeper.
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