



In light of us recently losing Ted Turner, it felt right to go back to the film that I always point to as not only the true masterpiece of director Mark Dindal, as well as my favorite thing Scott Bakula has done that isn't Quantum Leap, but also why along with the existence of Turner Classic Movies and Cartoon Network, I could never really muster a negative word to say about Ted Turner.
A blast of fun that not only represents what's so special about the '90s animation scene, but perhaps one of the greatest love letters to Golden Age Hollywood to be made in the past 30 years. Sure they'll always be that part of me that wonders what the film could have been had the original plan of involving Michael Jackson had come through, but having scenes of Danny and Sawyer recreating Gene Kelly dance moves is a joy in of itself.
While it's reception has grown more positive over the years, it's frustrating how it gets compared to Zootopia. Not a slight on the latter, but Cats Don't Dance's message of not letting society's predetermined bias box you in, continues to be a relevant message executed well and deserves to be appreciated on its own merits.
Sawyer's "Tell me lies" number brings me closer to tears every time I revisit it, man could Natalie Cole sing. And well Darla Dimple's showstopping presence as the villain needs no comment. And man the "Nothing's gonna stop us now" number just a blast of cathartic joy, made even better by the song "Our time has come", which would probably be my favorite song the late James Ingram did for an animated movie, if "Somewhere out there" for An American Tail didn't already exist.
They're certain animated movies from my childhood that while I still enjoy, I'll be the first to admit that my nostalgia does a lot of the heavy lifting in my positive views, but Cats Don't Dance is rare example where I'm glad my love for it grew with my love for further films. There's a bigger rant I could go to about how much Warner Brothers absolutely screwed over this film and how that's all part of their long history of shooting themselves in the foot (which we're seeing continuing to see said practice with the bullshit Paramount merger), but for right now I'll just stick to singing the praises of a movie that I remain thankful for all the times I caught it on Cartoon Network growing up, and how thankful I am that I can watch it on Blu Ray on today of all days.
Happy Trails Ted Turner.
On one hand a part of me still kind of prefers its TV United Steel Hour adaptation "The two Worlds of Charlie Gordon" (which also starred Cliff Robertson) but on the other hand Cliff Robertson and director Ralph Nelson brought the Flowers of Algernon story to the big screen in just about the best way for the world of the late '60s.
While they're certain aspects I feel the TV adaptation handled a bit more sensitively (mainly the romance, but I guess that's more of an early '60s TV censorship thing), I am amazed at the care put to a story of desiring more than what life has given you. Perhaps it won't work for everyone (and I won't disagree with anyone who says Cliff Robertson's portrayal might come off a bit "Simple Jack" like), but where it does succeed is in showing the joy Charly feels in his new found knowledge, and determination to make the best of it, and how crushing it is when we witness his intelligence slip away.
Much like with Me, Natalie another underrated work of DP Arthur J. Ornitz who brings so many striking shots that are unforgettable. Funny enough there's a montage scene following Charly and Alice entering a relationship that's is pure late '60s bliss and weirdly reminds me of a similar montage scene that I adore from Me, Natalie after Natalie and James enter their relationship. What can I say, I guess Ornitz understood his strengths and their was just something in the air back in the late '60s.
And shout out to Ravi Shankar for a lovely score that once again would likely only have happened in that exact time.
In the end, while I can't say the film completely works (I have issues with the romance and I do maintain the TV adaptation handled it better), they're are multiple things in the film that are simply fascinating and worth exploring from Cliff Robertson's performance, Arthur J. Ornitz cinematography that really puts the story into the weirdness of the late '60s, and in the end solid direction from Ralph Nelson. Cliff never really got to enjoy the Hollywood prestige that came with his Best Actor Oscar win, but at least he can say his recognition came from a film that is quite unforgettable.