CINDERELLA (1950)

Watching Cinderella as an adult, it’s rather shocking how much of this short film—with a runtime of just 76 minutes—is comprised of the musings and misadventures of two mice, Jaq and Gus (both voiced by Jimmy Macdonald). Neither character requires much description: Jaq’s a seasoned veteran in navigating the château he calls his home, while Gus is a heavy-set newcomer who struggles to get used to this new environment and the vicious cat, Lucifer (June Foray), who makes these vermin’s lives a constant fight for survival. They aren’t fleshed-out, nor are their comic antics all that funny or invigorating, and yet, somehow, they seem to take priority in most scenes over the film’s eponymous protagonist.

While it’s true that Cinderella’s (Ilene Woods) concerns are the film’s priority, and that these mice characters—along with the other animals dotted around her deceased father’s property—are devoted to her achieving her dreams, she’s a surprisingly small presence in this narrative. It’s often Jaq and Gus that interlink the film’s scenes, with their constant battles with Lucifer proving as frequent as this protagonist’s bitter interactions with her stepmother and stepsisters. After Cinderella’s widowed father married Lady Tremaine (Eleanor Tremaine), he had hoped that Cinderella would thrive with a motherly presence, but after his death, his daughter became a mere servant to Tremaine and her spoilt and whiny daughters, Anastasia (Lucille Bliss) and Drizella (Rhoda Williams).

Waking up early each morning to complete a heavy workload is no enviable task, and yet Cinderella never loses her dignity, grace, or hope in the process. All are important aspects to maintaining a modicum of self-respect, but the latter sensibility is what guides her forward in life. In the rare moments of peace that are afforded to her—usually when she’s carrying out menial chores—she pines for a day when her dreams can be realised. In the early morning, just before her relatives have woken, she’s almost able to forget her miserable station in life, whiling away these brief moments by imagining herself in an alternate reality. For many of us, this would more suitably be referred to as maladaptive dreaming, but for Cinderella, this line of thinking is her lifeline.

It anchors her to a world that exists only in other people’s lives or her dreams, but which is so vividly imagined that it almost appears real. It’s a beautiful notion, eliciting a deep desire in us for her to achieve her storybook dreams and fairy tale ending, made tragic by her dire circumstances. It’s also just one of the areas where this film’s gorgeous visuals enliven its dramatic content, with elegant compositions depicting this decadent and luxurious castle, along with the pampered lifestyles of Lady Tremaine, Anastasia, and Drizella. But the main quality of this animation style is how its graceful tracking of these characters maps onto this protagonist’s own gracefulness, where even in her humble attire she appears tailor-made for the beautiful home which surrounds her, as well as the opulent lifestyle within it that eludes her.

These rich compositions are far more rewarding when they’re tracking Cinderella instead of Jaq or Gus, but that can also be said of this story. To its credit, the pair are useful drivers of this plot, with plausible incorporations of the two mice into Cinderella that offer room to touch upon their one-note personalities, while also ensuring that they make themselves useful to this protagonist by helping her overcome the obstacles placed in front of her so she can live out her dreams. But that doesn’t change the fact that watching two mice attempt to evade a cat over and over again is far from compelling, especially when there aren’t any memorable instances of comedy to liven up these routine sequences.

It also gives little chance for Cinderella to make decisions for herself. Any chance of happiness and freedom is stamped out by Lady Tremaine, a worthy villain who somehow becomes more despicable each time she shows up in this story. Here the film’s visuals go a long way towards establishing what kind of presence she holds in this house, enshrouding her in shadow as she appears to drain all signs of life and vibrancy from her surroundings in an instant. Her role is also satisfyingly understated; just as the character’s tyranny—and the anger it produces in audiences—isn’t squandered by having her erupt into furious outbursts whenever possible, she doesn’t actually appear very often. The fact that this evil stepmother sometimes employs a soft tone, or is willing to make agreements with Cinderella that offer a shred of hope to this protagonist, are perhaps her cruelest qualities of all. Genuine tragedy abounds in watching these compromises come undone and in seeing this protagonist’s dreams crushed anew.

The most consistent aspect of Cinderella’s life isn’t her tyrannical stepmother, or her aggravating stepsisters who are just as spoiled and bossy as one another, but her daily routine and the chores entailed within it. This might not sound all that interesting, but whether it’s an opening scene that shows her pining for a better life as she causes all the adoring animals in her vicinity to swoon, her matronly care towards the mice whenever the bloodthirsty Lucifer is nearby, or her idle daydreaming while scrubbing floors, this protagonist is enchanting. There’s one noticeably missed opportunity in this latter example, where Cinderella’s beautiful singing (a far cry from her stepsister’s horrific attempts), gives way to a shot comprised of the bubbles from the bucket of soapy water she uses to scrub the floorboards, each of them reflecting her actions in this moment. Since it’s clear that this represents one of her many daydreams as she goes about her rudimentary schedule, each bubble instead should have been comprised of a different slice of her wondrous imaginings of a life well beyond her grasp.

Prince Charming (William Edward Phipps), her eventual love interest, is also lacking, uttering just a few words to Cinderella when they first meet and become enchanted by the other’s presence. It’s a beautiful sequence all the same, featuring the film’s most moving song (“So This is Love”) as both characters twirl in an endless circle in one another’s arms, and yet the fact that we don’t get any insight into his personality leaves something to be desired. Perhaps that’s why this film’s ending, though satisfying, is never triumphant. But there’s also the matter of Jaq and Gus to contend with, whose presence becomes genuinely grating by Cinderella’s conclusion.

The pair have long outstayed their welcome by this point, having taken up an enormous amount of Cinderella’s runtime without anything from their characteristics to warrant such a takeover. It’s very telling that viewers have experienced an instance of the Mandela effect when rewatching Cinderella after years without viewing it, where they also become surprised at how often these two mice appear in this fairy tale romance. But though the pair take up a wholly undeserved amount of screen time, their presence isn’t nearly detrimental enough to ruin this enchanting romance, whose rich compositions and endearingly archetypal characters haven’t lost their sway and lustre over the years.

This film can also be credited with boosting Disney’s brand and providing the company with a much-needed cash flow at a time when their most recent films had failed theatrically. The fifth-highest-grossing film in North America in 1950 (and France’s 16th highest-grossing film of all time), Cinderella is one of the core reasons why Disney became such a giant brand. It gave the corporation the necessary financial boost to establish its own distribution company, which it used for in-house animated and live-action productions that they might not have even been able to produce if this classic film hadn’t become a box office success. Although Cinderella isn’t within the ranks of Disney’s all-time greatest films, it’s a worthy contribution from one of the most esteemed production companies in the history of animation.

USA | 1950 | 76 MINUTES | 1.37:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast and Crew

directors: Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske & Clyde Geronimi.
writers: William Peet, Ted Sears, Homer Brightman, Kenneth Anderson, Erdman Penner, Winston Hibler, Harry Reeves & Joe Rinaldi (based on the fairytale by Charles Perrault).
voices: Ilene Woods, Eleanor Audley, Rhoda Williams, Lucille Bliss, James MacDonald, William Edward Phipps, Verna Felton & Luis Van Rooten.