Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Theatrical poster for Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937).
Whose cockamamie scheme was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?
Why, Walt’s of course! Walt Disney had been considering a full-length animated feature since 1933, when he perceived that his studio’s animated shorts did not give full reign to the creative potential of his storytelling team. While his concern was partly profit driven (he believed that the shorts, while well received, would not allow his studio to grow), Disney was also interested in the possibilities for deeper story and character presented by full-length films.
Disney’s Silly Symphony series of cartoon shorts were very popular, but Walt was interested in the storytelling potential of a longer feature.
Disney slowly (like, over the course of a year) made his desire known in dribs and drabs, talking to people individually before making a larger announcement. He was approached by multiple people with ideas for his project, including Mary Pickford, who pitched Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. Other suggestions included Bambi, a Life in the Woods (which would later become a Disney classic), the Iliad, the Odyssey, Gulliver’s Travels, Babes in Toyland, and Rip Van Winkle. For one reason or another, Walt rejected (or was unable to secure the rights to) each of these ideas.
Eventually, he decided to pick his own story, and he landed on the Grimm fairy tale “Snow White.” He credited his inspiration as the 1916 silent adaptation starring Marguerite Clark, which he had been hugely impressed by in his youth. His mind was set, and he announced his intention to make a full-length color animated musical feature film in 1934.
Disney was greatly inspired by the 1916 silent film Snow White starring Marguerite Clark.
Everyone tried to talk him out of it. His wife, his brother, his colleagues, his animation and story teams—everyone. It was too long, it wouldn’t hold the audience’s attention, the colors would hurt people’s eyes, he’d run out of funny things for the characters to do and say, he was crazy—crazy, I tell you! He didn’t care. He even mortgaged his house for the production (the budget of which was initially projected to be around a quarter of a million dollars and eventually ballooned to 1.5 million—an astronomical film budget at the time). He was convinced that his endeavor would pay off, however, and not even the film industry referring to his project as “Disney’s Folly” made him reconsider.
Isn’t it nice when you get to say, “I told you so”?
Snow White at the well at the beginning of the film.
Still, it’s not as though the production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was all smooth sailing. Walt and the story team went back and forth on the characterization of the queen (stately and regal or cartoonishly ridiculous?), Snow White (originally a tomboy), the prince (should he be comically egotistical or strong and handsome?), and of course the dwarfs. Over fifty dwarf names and personalities were ultimately proposed and eventually whittled down (including my personal favorites, Biggo-Ego, Tubby, and Burpy—that’s just good writing) to the final seven: Doc, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful, Grumpy, and Dopey.
Snow White with (L to R) Sneezy, Happy, Doc, and Bashful.
There was also back-and-forth about the tone of the film in general. What kind of songs should be written—serious and slow or over-the-top kooky? How much emphasis should be placed on humor—would too much detract from the audience’s engagement? Walt didn’t want a spoof or just an extra-long Silly Symphony (a series of humorous cartoon shorts produced by Disney). He wasn’t averse to humor, but he wanted his film to be taken seriously, too. Ultimately, they settled on a balance of emotional storytelling, musical theater, and humor (mostly centered around the dwarfs) that has made Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs endure for almost 100 years.
My favorite moments
The washing scene was always a favorite of mine as a kid. Comedy gold.
I’ve been watching this movie since I was itty bitty. I still remember sitting on the scruffy brown carpet in my grandma’s living room, laughing my head off while I watched the dwarfs’ bath scene on a VHS tape. Bunch of naaaaaanny-goats! My favorite was always Dopey, and I still love the scene in which he sticks diamonds in his eyes and looks through them. The soft colors and realistic movements of the film (a testament to the efforts of the animators, many of whom had no real experience animating human characters) are still as captivating now as they were then. And the queen as a witch? She remains bowel-emptyingly scary, for me at least (but I have always had a fear of witches as opposed to monsters). Still, her evil cackle and sharp eyes never kept me from watching the movie as a kid. It just meant my mom had to sit up with me until I fell asleep—so it became her problem, not mine. Maybe that’s why she used to dramatically serenade me with the prince’s song. Revenge takes many forms.
What makes Snow White so significant?
Well, a lot of things! For one, it was the first full-length animated feature, defying all industry expectations and setting Disney up as a successful innovator, a dreamer who took risks that paid off. Every Disney musical you love owes its existence to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Also, like I said, the film has realistic movements for both the human and animal characters, something Disney wasn’t always sure would materialize. Most of his animation team at the time were former newspaper cartoonists, and by and large they were learning as they went. In 1934, the Disney Silly Symphony “The Goddess of Spring” (telling the story of Persephone and Hades) proved a major learning experience that would benefit Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. The animation of the goddess in the short was criticized , and Disney took the feedback to heart, determined to do better in Snow White. The dividends of his investment in educating his animators, including hiring an instructor and models for the team, were immeasurable.
A scene from “The Goddess of Spring.” Check out that realistic arm action! I think she dislocated her shoulder.
Apart from the animation, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was the first American movie to release a soundtrack album, which eventually became a feature of not just musicals but movies in general. Like most Disney animated musicals, the songs eventually took on a life of their own, becoming classics in the American canon.
Finally, and most importantly, there’s Snow White’s legacy. An enormous commercial and critical success upon its release, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is still widely assessed as true art, a must-see for people of all ages, and an immense achievement of cinema. Film giants of the time, including Charlie Chaplin, considered Snow White to be a spectacular feat, with many immediately (and accurately) predicting that it would become an enduring and important classic of the same magnitude as D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (just minus the despicable racism of Griffith’s film). And you know what? They were right. There’s a reason why, almost 100 years later, we’re still humming “Heigh-Ho” and laughing at Dopey swallowing that bar of soap; why Snow White is the only Disney princess in the Hollywood Walk of Fame; why Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was in the first class of inductees into the National Film Registry; why Snow White is still a sought-after character at Disneyland and Disney World. Snow White altered and shaped the course of American film animation in deep, meaningful ways that are still evident today.
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: Still Disney’s fairest production of all?
Me trying to get my cat to eat the healthy treats. Try them, you’ll like them!
I won’t lie: as I grew older, there were other Disney musicals that stole my heart even more (looking at you, Beauty and the Beast—you, too The Little Mermaid), but there is still something about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, something so indefinably lovely and dear, that I don’t wonder why I still enjoy watching this movie (early in the day, with all the lights on, so the witch can’t get me, you know). If you’ve never taken the time to watch this film, or if you haven’t seen it since childhood, I strongly encourage you to take eighty-three minutes out of your day to revisit this classic. It’s so, so worth it.
Camille
