Aladdin (the TV series) 20th anniversary -- Episode 19: "Sneeze the Day" (9/24/94)

It's easy to imagine that Motz and Roth came up with this episode during a "Hmm, what can we do with Genie?" writers' meeting during which their train of thought led them start to musing about how a genie "works" (physiologically, biologically, the quirks of their powers, etc.), somewhere along the line positing, "Do genies get sick? If so, what's it like?" In fact, it's logical to suspect my favorite line of the episode -- "Wait, is a hundred years a long time to you guys or not? Oh, I keep forgetting!" -- just may have been a byproduct of such a brainstorming session. Also, said line is a prime example of what distinguishes this episode: Genie's fantastical nature is given precedence over his default role as comic relief.

A good few minutes' worth of screen time is given to depictions of Genie's symptoms. In the sequence preceding Aladdin's search for the Orb of Machina, when we're first shown the guava juice-afflicted Genie, the assorted items -- a kitten, a set of false teeth, several swords flung through the air with their tips aimed at Aladdin -- that Genie's sneezes produce against his will and without premeditation individually aren't particularly imaginative or funny, but looking at the big picture, the random, non sequitur nature of this barrage of sight gags assures a silly, whimsical, energized episode. Moreover, the items and costumes generated are easy to imagine being used appropriately by Genie in good health, so his power going awry in this way is a very clever, fitting answer to the "If genies get sick, what happens?" question.

Aladdin's near-miss with the sword signifies that Genie's symptoms have turned perilous and prompts the story thread of Genie bemoaning the danger that he now poses to his friends. To reinforce that the swords weren't an isolated incident, the moment Al's survived the sword attack, Genie's next sneeze incites the launch of a rocket missile that carries Abu off into the stratosphere, a bit that is amusing in its elaborate, step-by-step execution. Later, just before Aladdin finally acquires the orb, we cut back to the palace, where we're shown that Genie's illness hasn't let up if not worsened, given the vile two-headed, fire-breathing serpentine atrocity preying on Abu -- which, though basic in design,is at least more original than a more standard dragon would have been. And insofar as reminding us of the problem Aladdin's trying to solve, it does the trick.

More impressive is the panning wide shot that opens the final act, efficiently establishing the substantial, imposing mountain of assorted objects and major structures in the middle of the desert, relating the severe degree to which Genie's condition has escalated in a way that's visually staggering. Additionally, these scene-setting sights are the last step in the gradual buildup to the most extensive, most calamitous manifestation of Genie's symptoms (and presumably, things would have only gotten worse yet had Aladdin not showed up with the orb): the apocalyptic abrupt generating of two old "friends", the Sultan of the Al-Muddi and Fashoom, along with a mobile contraption of Mechanicles from "Getting the Bugs Out" here increased (ballparking it) twenty times or more in size, so as to stand on par with the two monsters (indicating that these are replications, not the real deal).

As predictable as are both the "[*sniff*] My very existence threatens my friends' very lives -- as much as it pains me, I must isolate myself somewhere far, far away from them and anyone else!!!" characterization and [*coughahemcough*] the deus ex machina of the arrival of the orb, it's nice to see an episode in which Genie has his own character arc, not to mention in which he's characterized in any way at all. It's especially satisfying that Genie gets to be the hero at the end (I guess he was able to single-handedly defeat all three beasts in one fell swoop when previously, he proved helpless against each individually presumably because here, he conceived them involuntarily, as I speculated above), when I honestly wouldn't have been too surprised if Aladdin had gotten to be the one who thwarted them even after Genie were cured by the orb. 

Ah, and that brings me to the matter of said object of magic: Aladdin, Iago, and Carpet's adventure in Machina's cave is practically an episode-within-the-episode. They could have gone to, say, the moon to fight and defeat, say, an evil wizard in order to obtain the orb, and the rest of the episode would be no different. The cave sequence takes up approximately an entire third of the episode and pretty much completely sidetracks it, existing only to facilitate Aladdin bringing Genie the orb at what's the exact right moment, as necessitated by the story. As I've already alluded to, Motz and Roth acknowledged the function of the cave scene and its outcome with the name of the orb's guardian... and I'll leave their little in-joke for you to either pick up on or not yourself!

Had Motz and Roth gone through the motions with the cave scene with a couple action-based set pieces (a collapsing bridge over a bottomless pit, a cave-in, a runaway boulder, etc.), as such a substantive and distinct segment, it would be very, very damaging to the episode as a whole. However, the predominance of witty verbal sparring and the "punny" riddles and trick questions that serve as the three obstacles between Al and the orb spice up the proceedings considerably. ("I was expecting something a bit more dangerous, like, like fighting a dragon or something!" Aladdin exclaims -- yet another wink-and-nod to those of us paying acute attention.) The ironic revelation of Machina's true identity (recalling Motz and Roth's nebbish worm from the previous episode who turned out to be behind the thundering voice in the Witches of the Sand's lair) puts the comedy-preferring orientation of this adventure in italics, and an exclamation point is added by the sequence's gag-based coda -- a grumbling, griping Machina getting a replacement orb from his warehouse with a seemingly endless supply of them) -- which feels an awful lot like an episode-capping bit. As isolated as the cave sequence is from the rest of the episode, the episode steadily retains its flavor of smartly, sharply written comedy. (Also, I'm no expert, but with Machina's irate nature and his "chirpy", dandy-ish voice and speech patterns, would I be correct in suspecting a homage to something in Monty Python?)

There are consistent factors visually, too: 1. The squash-and-stretch animation, which like in most episodes where it's used, offers the eye numerous delights and the occasional awkward, rushed-seeming pose -- and is generally befitting of a Genie episode, given the character's nature as sort of a cosmic-powered Roger Rabbit. 2. Just like Genie's "mountains" of unwanted objects and that of the vengeful trio of Gargantuas, Machina, in his three false guises, is very impressive and imposing in scope. Although the sleek, stark, more modern and hip design style used for these visages and the atmospheric backgrounds aren't comparable to anything in the Agrabah and desert sequences (except maybe perhaps Mechanicles' contraption, which in its enhanced size, appears more slender and angular), it still counts as one of those aspects of the tangential cave sequence that make it so strong in its own right, the episode's disjointed structure just doesn't matter. Motz and Roth are right to have been so confident in their plot shortcuts, loose stitching, and cliché of a character arc as to include the grinning aforementioned in-jokes, for the episode holds together in exceptionally well and is thoroughly entertaining. In other words, they're doing things that a bad writer would do, but by embracing and owning these things, playing them off so nonchalantly, they "flip" these pitfalls and turn out something that's actually good. Perhaps because they're good writers, they are only capable of doing bad by doing it good? 

Iago being used as a the source of exposition re: the Orb of Machina, recollected from his days of "Jafar always dragging [Iago] around looking for some magical thing or other", is a great touch, logically taking into account his past and easily evoking the Jafar we remember. Characterization-wise, his reluctance to share this information, as he fears getting roped into the quest for the orb, and his inevitable one-liners of grief and misery once he has indeed been roped into said journey, are dead-on.

Lastly, circling back to the episode's beginning, it was nice to briefly see Amin Damoola again, in all his rubber-limbed, ill-fortuned, unmerited confidence-displaying glory. His butt-of-all-jokes, slapstick-facilitating qualities promise a comedic episode -- which proves true, even though he's only seen in the first couple minutes. The purpose of his altercation with the palace guards is to have Genie incidentally get infected during the fracas. This elaborate, ultimately irrelevant way of getting the plot moving is worthy of some of The Simpsons' infamous epic, excessive, extraneous setups. And in existing just for fun,

Genie Watch: ...HEY!!! I've covered that with more than two-thirds of what I've already written, haven't I? That better be good enough for you! Sheesh! ;)

-- Ryan

Aladdin (the TV series) 20th anniversary -- Episode 17: "Plunder the Sea" (9/22/94)

Out of the entire series, this might just be the episode that, until watching it so as to write this review, I’d retained the weakest memory of. However, I did remember being nonplussed by it. As such, being merely underwhelmed by it – as opposed to actively disliking it – would account for the poor impression that it originally made on me. This time around, I hoped to discover something that I didn’t pick up on twenty years ago that would give me a wholly new appreciation for it (as happened with “Never Say Nefir”).  That hasn’t panned out; not only am I disappointed by the episode again, I'm disappointed to find that I was disappointed by it again. (I just made my own mind spin a little.)

Clinched by using Mechanicles as the antagonist, the episode recycles key components of “My Fair Aladdin”, in terms of structure, premise, and characterization: we open on a pair of characters (two nomads in “Fair”, a merchant ship captain and a lone crewman here) in the midst of their travels, alone in a remote location, suddenly and surprisingly attacked by an unidentified, fantastical, monstrous entity. Here, we cut right to the captain having obtained the Sultan’s audience, recounting his wild story and demanding that something to be done, as his ship was destroyed in the attack and his cargo lost. On the other hand, in “Fair”, the nomads weren’t seen after the opening; instead, a couple of scenes later, we returned to the scene of their encounter, which Razoul and his men are examining. (Presumably, the nomads had reported their incident to the palace, just as “Plunder”’s the captain is seen doing.) When Aladdin’s gang investigate and search for the reported monster, it ends up being a Mechanicles invention, its purpose to subject a large chunk of the world to his “clean freak” impulses. (In “Fair”, he’s trying to turn the desert into glass. Here, his intention is to filter all of the salt out of the ocean’s salt water.)

But that’s not all: in both episodes, Aladdin has as a foil a suave, pompous, self-infatuated, impeccably groomed jackass who makes Aladdin feel inadequate, which motivates him to prove himself equal or superior to this new-on-the-scene alpha male. While Daru Tavelevil had turned out to be a phony who was hiding a dirty deal that he’d made with Mechanicles, Captain Al Bahtross is the “dashing”, athletic, but aloof type in the tradition of Duke Igthorn’s brother or (the super-powered version) Comet Guy, who, despite his bravado, self-absorption, and obnoxious-to-the-average-bloke penchant for seeming to have never had anything not go his way, is basically good-hearted. The twist at “Fair”’s climax was Daru being exposed for the rat that he was, while on the other hand, Bahtross, who hitherto had appeared preoccupied with being the “reigning champ” of sensational, super-human heroic feats, redeems himself through an act of selfless heroism, urging Aladdin not to rescue him from one of Mechanicles’ vessel’s mock-giant octopus tentacles, but instead to find a way to disable the machine, which in the skirmish, Mechanicles has kicked into some type of overdrive.

One peculiar difference between the two episodes is that here, wanting to show up Bahtross is what motivates Aladdin to take on the mission; in “Fair”, he had actually brushed off the matter of the rumored giant centipede and sent Genie to look into it, because as long as Daru remained a guest at the palace, that’s where Al had to be if he wanted to best Daru in front of Jasmine. This scenario engendered my major criticism of that episode: Aladdin’s rivalry with Daru, and Daru himself, was awkwardly dropped for the duration of the Mechanicles-giant centipede set piece and abruptly forced back in at the last minute with the revelation of his “arms transfer” to the shrill-voiced inventor. On the other hand, Aladdin’s rivalry with Bahtross plays out over the course of the whole adventure; its zenith and resolution are fully integrated into the zenith and resolution of the Mechanicles scenario. Given that, it’s not just the better crafted of the two episodes, but it in fact plays as what the earlier-aired one should have been.

Also, “Plunder”’s third-act set piece is much better. In "Fair", we just had the gang dropping rocks on the goofy-looking separated, individual, autonomous but clunky giant mechanical centipede pods in a nondescript chasm in the desert at night. But the situation at "Plunder"'s climax involves Mechanicles’ submersible vessel -- with its exterior shaped as a male human head with an austere, bearded face, it has a unique design that makes it a more imposing setting-cum-obstacle. The  “majesty and might” and linear perfection of the face, and the appearance of Mechanicles' control room, which looks like it was crafted by a master metalsmith, is more befitting of the classical Greek ideals of beauty that I’m sure Mechanicles values highly. And not only are the visual ideas here better, but the action is more complex; again, instead of just dropping rocks on the bad guy’s machines, there’s interdependent stuff happening on multiple fronts: Bahtross scrapping with the tentacle, Genie at one point scrambling to and succeeding in (more on that below!) plugging the suction intake portal thing (with the treasure chest recovered from the ship that sank at the beginning of the episode, which was actually the whole point of their mission, so they won’t want to lose it or see it destroyed, but its predicament is just one of several things going on at the moment), which has and Mechanicles in turn scrambling to get things operating again, and finally, Aladdin racing to confront Mechanicles and their duel of wits which results in the machine’s destruction.

And, yes, that’s even with the incongruous and frankly ugly tentacles (whereas the face has a “unique” design, the tentacles are “generic”), but at least they serve in the opening scene to create mystery and hide the true nature of whatever it is they’re attached to, and as objects of conflict at a few points in the plot, especially when one of them is what indisposes Bahtross, allowing him to say, in essence, “No, Aladdin, it’s more important that we stop this guy – forget me, even if it means you being the hero and not me!”

But let’s take a few steps back.  Yes, “Fair” is better in execution than “Plunder”. But it’s just a better execution of a construct that’s inherently limiting and unappealing, the character arc that both episodes subjected Aladdin through: he is driven to prove himself better than some smooth, narcissistic showoff, and in the end he learns … er, something … in “Fair”, he learns that his rival isn’t so great after all, and in “Plunder”, he learns…er, I guess he learns that true heroism isn’t about hogging the glory by doing all the big flashy stuff that stops the bad guy and saves the day, but that true heroism is in acts of selflessness made for the greater good … and he learns this the optimal way, by being the one – because Al Bahtross is busy being about to get killed – who gets to do all the big flashy stuff that stops the bad guy and saves the day? In the original movie, Aladdin was shown as cocky, competitive, and, yes, prideful (see the “One Leap Forward” number and his clashing with Razoul), so the show was justified in using said traits as a starting point. And I liked the quasi-realism of the sequence in which he stubbornly keeps himself tied to the mast for the duration of the storm. But as the series had no long-term, ongoing character arc for or any of the other regulars, this “Aladdin is threatened by some big shot but learns a lesson about what really matters” episode structure template is self-defeating. They may as well have foregone the pretense and just had him defeat the bad guy and save the day … after all, it’s good enough for pretty much every other episode, isn’t it?

And speaking of being good enough for other episodes, why can’t they just do a straightforward “Al and the gang vs. Mechanicles” episode? He’s a fine villain, and the build-up around a “mystery of the sea” only disappoints when we reach the “reveal” that it’s “just” another Mechanicles scheme. He can hold his own, and it just feels like there was a “one-shot”, non-Mechanicles story that was set up but left untold.

And isn’t there something familiar about Al and signing on as crew for a ship with an overbearing captain to search for an elusive monster? In part, it’s “Raiders of the Lost Shark” redux, with a one-note (un-)comedic character confoundingly and awkwardly voiced by Jason Alexander.

Genie Watch: He actually has an extended proactive, effective involvement here – see the undersea “search” scene in which he’s accompanied by Iago and Abu, and his above-mentioned plugging of the suction portal. While he lets himself be overpowered by the vacuuming force longer than he should before doing something about it, his “moment of glory” – in which he turns himself into a “majestic” whale and “heroic” music plays – is a welcome turn of events. 

___________________

As always, written with you in mind, Chris, old friend and mentor.

Aladdin (the series) 20th anniversary -- Episode 8: "Never Say Nefir" (4/2/94)

When I posted yesterday's notice that I planned to do this review last night, I had yet to hear the news of Robin Williams' passing. Of course, he is relevant to Aladdin, because the character of Genie was birthed for the original film in a unique collaboration between Williams and the Disney studio animators. It so happens that "Never Say Nefir" prominently features Genie and gives him a legitimate character arc. Moreover, it's a rare episode in that the blue guy actually comes off respectably, resembling his original incarnation. And so, though I was going to review this episode anyway, drawing attention to it honors Williams in that it does his character justice.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not much of a fan of the original movie to begin with, but even then, unlike seemingly the rest of the world, I was never that enthralled by Williams' performance in it. I found his shenanigans self-indulgent and extraneous. It was fine to use the genie as comic relief, but the producers allowed Williams to go way out of bounds, resulting in Genie creating a big hullabaloo that was a textbook showstopper. Thus, I've never felt the series is lacking because of William's absence. Rather, it was that the character was all too often written as incompetent and buffoonish, when in the original, he had been quick-witted, perceptive, proactive, and generally had his crap together. Genie's bumbling and fumbling in the series wasn't Dan Castelleneta's fault.

Given Genie's prominence in this episode, this review in itself will largely account for today's installment of Genie Watch. I'm pleased to report that none of the Genie-based gags -- whether impersonating a heavily armed, jingoistic military commander, or "hooking up" Iago with the tools he needs for cheating at the tables -- are actually smart, well-executed, and even somewhat funny. Better yet, none of them culminate in him looking like an idiot. And besides these numerous asides, he has real story functions: his longstanding issue with imps causing him to want to one-up them, as well as stop Hamir once and for all and thus stop the Imps' profiteering; and his desire to not fail Aladdin, who unwittingly walked into being expected to save Getzistan, by solving the Hamir problem himself.

The only really questionable Genie moment that I have is how trusting he was when Nefir tipped him off about Hamir's sleeping place. But I suppose his being overeager to come through for Al made him put his guard down without realizing it. I had been planning on writing something like, "Why do the Imps' taunts and insults make Genie so insecure, when he had such a low opinion of them from the get-go?" But then I realized that, although he's incredibly wary of them (and rightfully so, as we'll see), their exchanges resemble the resent and antagonism between fans of rival sports team. I'm intrigued by the concept of their being a sordid history between these two "magical entity" species. The impression is given that even natural enemies like genies and imps have a shared culture and history that mortals aren't privy to. Sometimes, I wish that the series had expanded on and more fully defined its world and certain facets of it like this, but really, the ideas in this episode come across just fine with little back story.

This may seem like a personal quirk, but part of why I think Genie comes off well here is that his ability to shift his size from the original movie, largely forgotten throughout the series, is exhibited. Seeing him towering above the city reminds us that he's not pathetic or useless -- not because "bigger is better", but because we're reminded of how much energy, life, and exceeding brightness he projected in the movie. Interestingly, this is one of the few episodes that mentions more than once Genie's downgrade to "semi-phenomenal, nearly cosmic" powers. (Again, what is their parameters in comparison to what they were before? DECIDE ON IT, writers!) He seems a bit embarrassed about it when it's brought up, and it even seems to be (though I'm a little iffy on this) part of why he wants to prove his worth to the Imps (even though he hates them) and not mess up saving the city. Hmm, why did he seem to forget his many positive attributes in so many subsequent episodes?

Much like the scene in "My Fair Aladdin" where he went seeking the reported "monster" (actually Mechanicles' giant mechanical centipede), it's nice to see Genie proactive and taking initiative on his own by venturing into Hamir's cave. (One might ask, why does Genie walk in on foot, as if he can fly and pop up out of thin air in different places? I have a theory that the conditions of  a Genie being free is that they can use such powers for comical purposes, but not for long-distance instantaneous transportation -- at least when they NEED to get somewhere. The show is somewhat -- but not by perfectly -- consistent with this idea, leading me to consider that Stones and Co. actually had something along those lines in mind. If there were any rules, I wish they'd TOLD us what they were.) And the cut from Genie reacting by sweating in fear to Hamir waking up to Genie and Hamir having tea together and having an in-depth conversation about their personal lives is GOLD. It's a moment that's exemplary of this episode's wit and whimsy ... and I know that I've already used "wit" earlier, and that I'm going to run into a snag where I want to reuse "whimsy" or its variations further on, so let me take this opportunity to say that I feel that those adjectives sum up this episode's general qualities, but since I'm going to be citing multiple examples, I'll find different terms to use. So, hmm, how do I describe this "confidences over tea" scene? Hmm ... it's very British in its sense of humor. Does that work? That seems like a cheap shorcut; as if I could actually explain how it's so "British". ...oh, I know. It's Python-esque. Yeah, that works!

 When beginning this revisiting of the series that I'm doing here, I thought that I would always prefer "hardcore", Big Event, high-stakes, huge-threat, sword-and-sorcery, fantasy-adventure episodes like "The Prophet Motive". However, of the several episodes I've covered so far, this one has the most going for it. In "Much Abu About Something", when a foreign community expected one of our heroes to save them from destruction, they gave us a plain ol' big monster ... and it was a Tyrannosaurus rex, to boot, which I think was to somehow make the episode "different", but without any context and using it in the most generic big, mean monster role possible, it was a dud. Here, they came up with something actually different: a giant pink hippo ballerina dancer. Now, on paper, that sounds like the kind of thing that, when I watch Darkwing Duck as an adult, makes me want to say, "They think they're being SO funny, but they're really not." Or, for instance, there was an episode of Dangermouse about a giant chicken stomping London Godzilla-style, and I was like, "Uh, guys, making the giant monster a chicken really isn't that funny. What's so funny about chickens?" Or the Howard the Duck comic that's a Frankenstein parody where the mad scientist's creation is an animated giant gingerbread man. What's so funny about a gingerbread man?

...you get the idea. So what makes the giant pink ballerina hippo work? Really, I think it's in the execution. This is the most well-animated episode yet, across the board. The characters are stylized and have a slightly more "edgy" look than usual, but their poses and expressions are carefully rendered, and never look sloppy or rushed. The movement is fluid, smooth, and fuller than in the average episode. The timing is never awkward or rushed. Hmm, did I say almost the exact same thing about portions of another episode? I'm having deja vu here. Well, I might as well use the same analogy I'm pretty sure I used then: it's kind of like Daan Jippes or Daniel Branca as compared to the Whitman-era artists. (I haven't actually figured out if these factors are more dependent on the episode's director or which animation unit worked on it. And though Aladdin Central provided me with the name of the writer and director, the fact that whoever uploaded the widely-circulated online versions of the episode omitted not just the title sequence but the end credits, I can't track which studios worked on what. But judging by my observations of other series, I might hazard a guess that this is the work of ... Walt Disney Animation Japan? I really am not confident in being right about that, though.)

The episode's climax: as Aladdin's band competes with 

Nefir's band, playing faster and faster, Genie and 

Hamir get hot feet and grow exhausted.

Hamir's dancing, including his duet with Genie, is a bizarre, almost ingenious orchestration of physical comedy. When Genie and Hamir are performing their dance duet, there's a bit that lasts a mere few seconds: Genie swings Hamir to one side, and Hamir's nose, pointed upward, nearly touches Carpet the hovering Carpet, carrying Aladdin, Abu, and Iago. In his deep, booming, but smoky voice, he lets out a friendly, childlike "Hi!" This happens while we see his head from the side, taking up about half of the screen, while Aladdin and the crew are taking up a small portion of the upper left-hand corner. The framing, timing, poses, expressions, and voicing work in confluence to have caused me to laugh out loud giddily. It wouldn't have worked with more banal animation. And the "dance-off" is certainly a more original, creative way of bringing the story to a climax than the usual action fare.

The Imps remind me of Gummi Bears' trolls -- short, gnarled thieves with an angry, abusive, conniving leader and a few imbecilic sidekicks. The premise of the Imps' profiteering off of the destruction that they're actual machinating is ... I don't, Swiftian? Like something in The Little Prince? Worthy of Pogo or Krazy Kat? More Python-esque stuff? I don't know, but for this series, that's satire that has some FIRE to it! I think "the man" got off to easy by having the sultan just be an oblivious buffoon, but, hey, I'm not expecting Ayn Rand from a Disney Afternoon show.

Having just arrived in Getzistan, Carpet and Abu 

are distraught to find it in ruins.

Nefir orders his crew to work, and the 

gang is wowed by the speed with 

which they rebuild the city.

An Imp rebuilds steps as 

Getzistan's sultan ascends them.

Oh, and the idea of the city being destroyed and rebuilt DAILY: that's some Alice in Wonderland shit right there. Or is it The Little Prince, again? Or maybe even Little Nemo? I don't know, it's just...just...just WHIMSICAL, okay?! Isn't that description good enough for you?!

Using Iago having talked the guys into a trip to the gambling city of Getzistan as the story's setup works without a hitch. The closing gag, seeing him completely plucked from the neck down and covering himself with a barrel is yet another unexpected bit of delightful bizarre-ness; the final feather in the episode's cap, if you will. (Not pun intended. Yuck.) Er, it's the episode cap, but metaphorically, it's the episode's cap (that it's wearing on its head). Wow, talk about mixed metaphors.

Aladdin is in his usual "straight man" role here. His reluctantly-expressed objections to Getzistan's sultan appointing him the city's savior is actually a pretty nice way of having him pretty much go through the dashing hero motions that he does in many an episode, but acknowledge that he never really asked to be a hero to all, 24/7. And his uncertainty awaiting Hamir's arrival on the gang's first night in the city isn't uncharacteristic cowardice or meekness, but a normal reaction, given the situation. So, I have no complaints about his character being spoiled, like in "My Fair Aladdin" or "To Cure a Thief". Abu (I overlook him in a lot of these reviews, don't I? Hmm, maybe the writer of "Much Abu About Something" had a point...) is pretty much just along for the ride, supplying little moments of comic relief in reaction shots featuring him or in shaking his fist at Iago. But these moments are certainly well-rendered and animated.

Okay, that's enough! ;)

-- Ryan

Aladdin (the series) 20th anniversary -- prelude: The Return of Jafar (released 5/20/94)

If the original plan had been adhered to, “The Return of Jafar” would have been part of the Aladdin TV series, serialized into either two or three installments. (I have reason to believe that the intention could’ve been one or the other, as I’ll explain below.) It would’ve aired in whole, though in an abridged form (is that a contradiction, or what?) during the weekend immediately preceding the beginning of its run on The Disney Afternoon by all of the stations across the U.S. that carried the lineup. This would’ve continued the tradition that had started with DuckTales and been upheld by every Disney Afternoon series since, excepting that what were once five-part serials eventually got whittle down to two parts.

In keeping with the rest of the series of which it was a part, it probably would’ve been devoid of any musical numbers. As the version that was ultimately produced includes several musical numbers which take up nearly a third of it (and are contrived both in and of themselves and in their interjection into the movie), it’s possible that it was intended to only be a two-parter. Starting with Darkwing Duck, that became the standard for each successive fall’s premiere, but I can’t be sure.

What changed? According to producer Tad Stones, at some point during production, he “realized [they] were making Aladdin II”, and for some reason inquired with Walt Disney Home Video as to if they would be willing to release it as such to Wal-Mart (as it was officially designated as at that point) and such. I’m not sure why the home video department was the first place he thought to go to, rather than Buena Vista’s movie theater distribution department or, say, Michael Eisner himself, but that’s the way Stones tells it. Anyway, as his story goes, at first they snubbed it, but when the first sales reports for the VHS release of the original came in, they changed their tune.

So, the result is a direct-to-video release that apes the format of the first movie in the style of its title and end credits sequences and the intermittent Broadway-esque over-baked melodic divergences, but has all of the production methods and characteristics that were the norm up to that point for Walt Disney Television Animation. Officially, it’s not part of the TV series, but its origins are interlocked with and bound to it, despite the way Disney originally promoted it and has continued to promote it on the occasion of any upgraded release. In sharing the series’ production team and the production means, and by establishing a relationship integral to the series as well as introducing one of the series’ major villains, it is far, far more closely related to the series than it is to the original movie.

As I discussed in my previous post, as an adventure-oriented series, Aladdin was a return to form (and in such terms, a last hurrah) for The Disney Afternoon. Over the preceding couple of years, not only had the premieres been shortened, but their boundless scope and vigor had been dialed down. The domestic sitcom that was Goof Troop and the lifeless urban detective trappings of Bonkers paled to the awe and might of DuckTales’ “Treasure of the Golden Suns” and TaleSpin’s “Plunder and Lightning”. Unfortunately, as much as Return of Jafar aspires to be an opus of high adventure, deadly peril, and explosive, towering, unearthly spectacle, it comes off as ho-hum and on autopilot. Visually, in strictly technical terms, it reaches the heights it aspires to when the Sultan’s abducted by Jafar’s winged horses of death and with the climactic battle with Jafar, in giant-sized genie form, and the opening of the earth into a boiling pit of lava. But to back up all of the bombast, little is offered to win the viewer’s investment and make a singular, lasting impression.

The real problem is glaring: Jafar. Once it’s a given that he’s come back and that he remains bound to a genie’s existence but still craves revenge, it’s like, “Okay, that’s logical. He was so uber-archetypal in the original, there’s no real opening to write him as having done some self-reflection and, if not be repentant, have arrived at a new set goals and motivation.” So, yeah, he wanted to take over Agrabah and had ill will toward all of the good guys, and he still wants to take over Agrabah and still has ill will toward all of the good guys. There’s no rule that if he were to show up again, he would’ve changed. Nonetheless … WHY DID he have to show up again?! The original left no loose strings or unfinished business concerning Jafar. So now, he just comes off like a quarterback whose team lost the championship during his senior year but keeps calling for a rematch. Stones himself has lamented that he's "embarrassed" by Return for these very reasons. I'm not sure what role his co-writers Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley played, but once this had been bumped up from TV special to major home video release, Stones probably felt that he needed stand backup to help ensure the ball wouldn't be dropped. Really, given that they were locked into the Jafar-oriented plot, the film flows smoothly and is just about the absolute best it could be. 

According to Bob Miller’s column in Comics Scene, Stones had asserted that Return “takes place a few hours after” the original!!! Don’t the characters just want to go to bed?! And to the viewer, Jafar’s return is a put-off. “Okay, yeah, here he is, he’s back, now they gotta stop him, you know, just like they stopped him last time…” It’s anti-climactic  and laborious, as if you’ve mastered a skill and are ready to move on, but are forced to continue doing the kind of tasks you can now do in your sleep. 

Now, if far later in the series, Jafar appeared in an unexpected and shocking type of way, that might’ve worked. Say, kind of like the Batman storyline “Hush”, there’d been an ongoing conspiracy against our heroes, and (figuratively) during sweeps weeks or as the cliffhanger of a season finale, the mastermind is revealed as Jafar. That would’ve been exciting. The reality of Jafar’s comeback is a stubborn, lackluster repeat performance.

Say that, at the point where Return of the Jedi ends, it kept going, doubling its length. Luke’s settling in for the night and trying to get some rest. Meanwhile, Darth Vader rebounds, and starts right up again at the exact same thing that he’d just failed miserably at. Luke would be like, “Aw, man, I gotta shut down this creep AGAIN?!” That’s pretty much what Return comes down to.

Still, when most of the gang is imprisoned while Aladdin is nearly beheaded (which Razoul has NO qualms about being tasked with executing, no pun intended … it’s a wonder that he was never characterized as an outright villain!), there is a greater – and I’d dare say a more realistic -- sense of grave danger and precarious mortality than when the original went through much the same motions, perhaps because the respective scenes had been preceded by so much frivolous, bright and shiny spectacle and musical numbers. The well-designed cloaked “Riders of Death” on winged black horses that Jafar takes the form give the movie an aesthetic distinction from the original, sharpen the relating of Jafar’s evil, and are one of the first signs of the creative team’s talent -- that they’ll exhibit time and time again on the series -- at creating their own adventure-fantasy concepts to populate the world surrounding Agrabah.

 (And Hans Solo would be like, “Aw, you gotta be kidding me! I was just about to bang Leia…”  It’s tempting to say that here, Aladdin’s saying the same thing about Jasmine, except that he seems completely preoccupied with earning her father’s favor, even though he’d already done that. Going by her hasty, unconcerned assurances to her beau that he has nothing to worry about, one could infer that her thinking is closer to Solo’s. When she blew up at Aladdin for bringing Iago back into their midst, rather than Iago’s affiliation with Jafar, what she’s REALLY upset about is that Al has been content to hang out with the guys and make new friends. Hence why she so stubbornly and heatedly insists to Iago that she and Aladdin are through, only the next minute to be throwing herself at Aladdin with little coaxing. But, I digress.)

In the past, each Disney Afternoon’s premiere was a slam-bang doozy of an establishing of the characters and the premise. One important function of “Plunder and Lightning” was to bring Kit and Rebecca into Baloo’s life and establish their relationships. But these things happened as an integral part of an original and exciting plot.  Return of Jafar is but a retread and a shadow of Jafar’s arc in the original. The series used the original movie’s conclusion to define the characters’ orientation for the duration of the series. With one major exception, that’s where we already find them at the outset of Return of Jafar, and that’s where it leaves them. It wasn’t needed for anything, and sadly, what it mostly does is serve as a placeholder.

The aforementioned major exception is Iago’s conversion. In fact, that’s the only thing that the plot really has going for it. Not only is it important in that it establishes Iago’s role in the series, but at least when I think of Return of Jafar, that lovably short-fused, selfish parrot’s “switching teams” is THE ENTIRETY of what distinguishes it for me. The retread of Jafar’s conquest and defeat is just a means of getting Iago where he’s going. Like when your  car’s in the shop and you get a rental, and you don’t really care if you wash it or put gas it in, because you’re just using it to drive to work along the same route that you do by reflex every day. The car doesn’t matter to you. What does matter is that you are at work when you’re supposed to be.

That is not say that the movie (I suppose that we have nothing better to call it...) has nothing to else to be said for it beyond Iago’s self-journey. I know it’s due to my Disney Afternoon/WDTVA bias, but I actually prefer it to the original. Still, some of the factors that I can point out as to why this is so only vindicate my bias!

The two most cited reasons for this movie’s inferiority to the original are the animation quality and the absence of Robin Williams. Regarding the first, I’ll contend that on average, the animation completely holds up to that of the original. The key distinction is that at this point, the theatrical animation department was using some sort of cinematographic technique that gives an illusion of 3D. I don’t have the requisite experience to be able to put my finger on it, but I’m discerning to see that a sequence showing Aladdin making a running leap in the original is any less skillfully animated in Return than is a sequence from the original of the same character engaged in comparable activity. And even if there’s fewer cels per second in the sequel, it’s obvious that the TV animators can draw Aladdin just as well as the movie ones can and that they’re masters of anatomy of the very same caliber.

At certain points in Return of Jafar, I believe the cel count-per-second was upped past the TV standard. During Jasmine’s duet with Iago in the second half of “Forget About That Guy” (or whatever it’s called), she’s does some prancing and twirling about that looks downright rotoscoped, if not a frame-by-frame imitation-by-eye of a live-action reel.

Furthermore, I’ll vouch that there’s no sign that the sequel’s background artists would be unable to do anything that the presumed varsity squad of the theatrical unit could.

It’s a process of deduction. The skill applied to both the animation and the background art in the sequel is absolutely on par with the original. But there’s still that distinction that makes the original look like a “real” Disney movie that everyone took their kids to, had a best-selling soundtrack, and got a bunch of Academy Awards, and the sequel look like all of its contemporary made-for-TV cartoons. I will be the first to attest that, as superbly animated as I think that some of Return of Jafar’s focal scenes and moments are, there are fleeting intermediary bits that are rushed and choppy. While it’s a matter of sheer reality that such instances are due not to a lack of skill, talent, or care but to budget and scheduling, someone can still argue that the fact of the matter is that such compromises make for an inferior production. I would counter that it’s not an inferior production but a result of inferior circumstances … but I wouldn’t want to get hung up on it. I know what’s what and why I like what I do.

Bottom line: the KEY distinction between the original’s overall look and the sequel’s does NOT lie in the skill and talent that went into the animation and the backgrounds. Other factors, largely technical, account for the discrepancy. As I argued in my review of Richard Williams’ Raggedy Ann, what made the “cel” animation in Disney’s `90’s theatrical films so dazzling was that it actually WASN’T pure cel animation, but involved lots of digital effects.

I actually find Return’s overall aesthetic more tasteful. Far less gaudy, the backgrounds have a more subtle, understated, almost earthier quality.  They’re also a notch above the backgrounds in an average episode of the series, more refined and precise.

Finally, besides Iago’s adjustments, there’s one other aspect of Return that makes it integral as a lead-in to the series: the introduction of Abis Mal. Though second banana and dupe to Jafar (though how different is that REALLY from his role in the series, where he was only in his own mind ever a master of anything), he still steals his scenes. Jason Alexander’s performance – which calls for a lot exertion, whether screaming or trembling with fear and/or panic – is already in full flight. More than anything, it’s Alexander’s voice work that defines Mal’s erratic and fraught traits. Here, already having the character down pat, he already has the myopic, nervous, high-strung, cowardly, greedy, scheming, inept, vain lout that we – or at least I – love in all of his appearances during the series. If anything, Mal seems more competent and formidable here than he ever would again, even though the movie closes on him in a position that gives him little dignity.

-- Ryan