The Great Mouse Detective (1986)

After the undelightful wash that was The Black Cauldron, Disney needed a win. They got one and then some with this charming play on Sherlock Holmes. Everything in the Disney mold comes out fresh and clean here- music, animation, and characters. In the annals of Disney animated films, The Great Mouse Detective could easily be labeled as one of the studio’s most under-appreciated works.

When her father is abducted, young Olivia Flaversham turns to Basil of Baker Street for help. The cocksure yet oftentimes oblivious sleuth accepts the task of finding the young girl’s father when he realizes the abduction is connected to the evildoings of his arch nemesis, Professor Ratigan. With the help of Dr. David Q. Dawson, Basil scours the streets and sewers of London in a desperate attempt to stop Ratigan once and for all.

If it hadn’t been for Cinderella and The Rescuers, you’d swear the Disney crew was crazy for using rats and mice as their main characters. They’re not normally likeable creatures but The Great Mouse Detective lives up to its titular superlative. Not once did I find myself rejecting the film because of the use of mice. Kudos to the source author, the writers, and the animators for creating a world where Basil and friends are not just believable, but acceptable too. I’m not very familiar with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s tales of Sherlock Holmes, but I found the character of Basil to be a breath of fresh air. It’s been far too long since a Disney character possessed the confidence and swagger Basil exudes. Granted, these qualities tend to get him in over his head but that’s part of the fun of it all.

Another thing this film has going for it is some terrific animation. The colors and crispness call to mind the Disney Renaissance of what most people recall as the 1990s. That renaissance actually started in 1989 with The Little Mermaid. Guess what film that production and animation team worked on prior to rejuvenating Disney animation? If you guessed The Great Mouse Detective, you must be paying attention. While there had been some animated-over CGI in The Black Cauldron, the CGI foundations are more noticeable here. The crème de la crème is the chase through the gears of Big Ben. CGI modeling gives that sequence a unique sense of depth beyond the screen unseen in prior Disney films.

There is something delightful about the music in this film. The title music comes at you fast and fierce. Well, fierce for an era- and location-appropriate film about crime-solving mice. The playful tones not only match the action, it accentuates the tension, action, and/or silliness occurring on screen. Disney has had great music in many of their films but that music usually comes in the form of songs. The Great Mouse Detective is fairly light on the songs but you wouldn’t know it by the strength of the incidental music. Avoiding too many songs is a blessing in disguise for this film because the story doesn’t really require song-and-dance numbers.

It may not have all the bells and whistles of Disney’s greatest animated tales, but The Great Mouse Detective is a marvel compared to the films filling the gap between it and The Jungle Book. I don’t mean to put them all down, because some of them had a few unique qualities to boast of. None of those films exude the same amount of magic as this charmer though. Incremental steps evidence progress in the other 80s Disney flicks but it feels like the all the creative departments hit their strides here. It’s a shame this film got stuck between two duds. Otherwise, it might be remembered by more people.

RATING: 3.75 out of 5

Rebecca** (1940)

As a fan of Alfred Hitchcock’s films, I am amazed that he never won an Oscar for directing. This Best Picture winner, his first Hollywood film, makes up for the Academy’s mistake and offers a superb look back at the growing talent of one of cinema’s all-time greats. While it may not be remembered as fondly as his later work in Hollywood, Rebecca is a taut thriller that fires on all narrative and technical cylinders.

An unnamed woman (Joan Fontaine) narrates a tale of memories, love, and danger. Her early life as a paid companion for the rich and self-important Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates) is dull despite their many travels. Her life changes forever when she meets the dashing Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier). Despite recently becoming a widower, Maxim falls in love with the girl and they marry hastily. When Maxim brings his bride back to his family estate, called Manderley, the new Mrs. de Winter receives a cool reception from Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper. Obsessed with her former mistress, Rebecca de Winter, Mrs. Danvers engages in unrelenting psychological torment to show her displeasure. This, compounded with the mysterious circumstances of Rebecca’s death, pushes the timid new Mrs. de Winter to the brink

By the end of this film, you may feel as if your brain is a yo-yo. Hitchcock and his filmmaking crew are constantly playing with the pace of the story. After getting taken off guard by the speed at which the unnamed main character and Maxim de Winter fall in love, the flow tapers off to accommodate the exposition necessary to introduce Manderley and its housekeeping staff. Mrs. Danvers’ game of cat-and-mouse with the new Mrs. de Winter provides plenty of false starts and genuine thrills. By the time the third reel rolls around, I was all but ready to be let off the ride. Sure enough, Hitchcock saves the best and biggest adrenaline plunge for last.

I am unsure where I stand on the story itself. While it happens, the pre-wedding romance feels too sudden, rushed and unlikely. It’s not until the payoff in the third reel where the events of the first reel become acceptable. You just don’t see this type of narrative styling anymore, which may make the film hard for some younger audiences to digest. I like that, at the end of the film, you are invited to think your way through the entire tale once more. It doesn’t command a second viewing per se, but Rebecca is the kind of film that changes after the first time you watch it. The first time through, your time is spent absorbing the details and information. A second viewing affords you the opportunity to marvel at the little details scattered about that only made sense at the end of your first viewing.

The danger of this film is that it does not fit the 50s and 60s Hitchcock formula. If you come into this film expecting that kind of payoff, you may find yourself confused. I know I was. Having seen several Hitchcock classics and the works of those who emulate him, I felt like I knew what to expect and, for a while, this attitude had me enjoying this film less than it deserved. All that was reversed when the film took another direction entirely. My mind was sufficiently blown and all respect was restored. Not all credit can be given to the director though. This is an adaptation of a novel, so kudos to the original writer are in order. But, a little research shows that the Production Code of the time required the story to be altered slightly, which actually improves the ending if you ask me.

This is a film that does just about everything right. Overexposure to the suspense and thriller sub-genres water down some of Rebecca’s impact, but there is no denying the powerhouse performances of the main characters. Laurence Olivier effortlessly runs the gamut of emotions, Joan Fontaine is perfectly naïve and high-strung, and Judith Anderson crafts one of the most psychologically twisted villains in big screen history. Add on top of this the cinematography (including some deep focus shots) and editing, and you’ve got a real winner. To think that Hitchcock got even better than this is awe-inspiring.

RATING: 4 out of 5