SALUDOS AMIGOS and THE THREE CABALLEROS: Blu-ray (Walt Disney, 1942-44) Disney Exclusive

Encouraged by President Franklin Roosevelt’s ‘Good Neighbor Policy’ (legislation drafted in 1933 that effectively launched a PR campaign to better the U.S.’s relations with Latin America), Walt Disney’s Saludos Amigos (1942), and its subsequent ‘sequel’ of sorts, The Three Caballeros (1944) can hardly be counted upon as ‘great art’ in the vein of Walt’s Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs (1937), Pinocchio, Fantasia (both released in 1940) or Bambi (1942). Commercially, however, they proved far more successful at the box office than virtually all of the aforementioned except Snow White.  Indeed, Walt’s flourish of success with Snow White had been lavishly exported on these subsequent projects. And yet, the public failed to take to them as they should. Though justly regarded as classics today, at the time, each did little except to strain the studio’s coffers. And Walt, true to his genius, had pushed his animators hard on the craftsmanship of these iconic milestones; perhaps too much, resulting in the legendary strike of 1941. 334 employees walked the picket line in a nasty display that dragged on from May until the Fall (another 303 remaining at their posts). The workers’ demands for higher wages and security against arbitrary layoffs (among other grievances) deeply wounded Walt’s belief he had built ‘a family’ business founded on mutual respect and trust.  

Barely escaping bankruptcy, Walt’s survival during this fallow period depended upon the reissue of his animated Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy shorts; also, the production of more of the same, and finally, his relinquishment of authority to the U.S. military, who not only commandeered several sound stages to use as a repair shop for their antiaircraft unit, but also effectively took over whole portions of its production facilities to make instructional films for the war effort. With America’s entry into WWII, the U.S. government’s grave concern, that the spread of fascism would infest its neighboring nations, and thus present a far more immediate threat to its own sovereignty, resulted in a direct response from Hollywood; the industry en masse throwing itself into exhalations of Latin American culture and, even importing a few of its most popular stars; Carmen Miranda, Xavier Cugat and Ricardo Montalban among them.  The government and the industry’s overnight amalgamation of talent and resources could hardly be counted upon for its altruism. Indeed, several South American nations had already allied themselves with the Nazis. Besides, the war in Europe had effectively cut off Hollywood’s highly lucrative marketplace for their product. 

Even Walt’s participation had an angle. His company was overextended in debt. Now, under safe conduct from the U.S. State Department’s Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, Nelson Rockefeller, Walt and a select troop of his most trusted journeymen made their pilgrimage to Brazil, Argentina, Chile and Peru. Disney’s cartoon shorts had always been popular in these countries. But it was Rockefeller’s sincere hope a ‘goodwill’ tour would inspire even more U.S. loyalty to follow it. To this end, Walt proposed producing not only a movie about their trip abroad, but perhaps several more, celebrating the culture as well as these burgeoning alliances.  After some finagling, Rockefeller secured federal loan guarantees to produce both Saludos Amigos and The Three Caballeros for $50,000 each. Today, we are so inundated with global connectivity, the resources of the world at our fingertips via even the most basic computer access, it behooves us to reconsider for a moment the morale boost each of these movies gave toward fostering friendly relations between the Americas. At a time when most Americans could scarcely afford to travel, impressions of foreign cultures remained in the dark ages. Hence, Walt’s live-action inserts, depicting the modernity and affluence of cities like Rio de Janero and Buenos Aires startled many when Saludos Amigos premiered.

Initially, four short subjects were planned for independent release. Instead, Walt elected to combine them into what would become a brief main staple at the studio – the package deal –  ‘feature-length’ releases with dubious artistic distinction, except to say Disney’s artisans continued to put their best feet forward, ensuring the quality of animation was not sacrificed. At 45 minutes, Saludos Amigos is Walt’s shortest ‘feature’; comprised of brief live-action inserts depicting his journey abroad and four short subjects, strung together with the flimsiest of connective tissue. The first of these is no better than a half-dozen Donald Duck cartoons from a similar vintage; Walt’s most lovably short-tempered fowl, decidedly out of his element and suffering for it against the serene splendor of Lake Titicaca in the High Andes. The second short, Pedro, is a cozy little story about a single propeller mail plane forced to pick up the slack when his more robust, four-propeller father develops a severe cold in his pistons.

This ‘little plane that could’ endures a hellish thunderstorm and downdrafts that threaten to dash him to pieces on the mountainside. Pedro soars, chiefly because of the animators’ uncanny sense of space and depth achieved during its flying sequences. And while the third segment in Saludos Amigos, ‘El Gaucho Goofy’ is decidedly amusing – if hardly innovative – it is for the film’s finale, Aquarela do Brasil, that the picture is best remembered today; chiefly for the creation of the cigar-smoking parrot, Jose Carioca. Of all the sequences in Saludos Amigos, ‘Aquarela’ is most authentic to the flavor of Latin America; Carioca, a breezy and fun-loving ‘bon vivant about town’, introduces his American cousin, Donald Duck to the pleasures of Copacabana Beach and, better still, the samba Donald performs with a silhouetted dancer, suspiciously resembling the Brazilian bombshell, Carmen Miranda.

Two years after Saludos Amigos, Walt returned to the pampas for his second outing – The Three Caballeros (1944). And while more ambitiously mounted in its live-action/animated sequences, it more or less follows the same episodic format as its predecessor. The picture’s premise is threadbare at best. Donald Duck receives a very large crate wrapped in paper; a present from his Latin American friends to mark the anniversary of his birthday. Unpacking the box, Donald discovers a movie projector, screen and film reels. We delve into the first of seven segments, ‘The Cold-Blooded Penguin’ – narrated by Disney fav, Sterling Holloway. Disgusted by his natural inability to adapt to the frigidity of the South Pole, a penguin named Pablo elects to sail away to a warmer climate. His first several attempts end in near fatal freezing to death, saved only by the goodness of two non-descript penguin buddies. Pablo lashes a potbellied stove to his back, erects a wind sail and cuts free a block of ice using a handsaw. His makeshift boat sails down the South American coastline, eventually landing on a small parcel of palm-treed dirt in the Galápagos Islands.

The second cartoon, The Flying Gauchito, depicts small boy (in the English-speaking version, from Uruguay/from Argentina in the Spanish dub) who, in his search for a condor’s nest, unearths a miracle instead; a winged Burrito (Spanish for ‘little donkey’).  After a playful pursuit, the boy harnesses the mule’s energy and they become inseparable, eventually entering and winning the grand derby, despite their remote chances against some beefy competition. In Baía, the third sequence, singer Aurora Miranda (yes, Carmen’s sister) takes Donald and Jose Carioca through a pop-up TripTik through the Brazilian state. This sequence was meant to recapture the joie de vivre of Saludos Amigo’s finale. Yet, despite Miranda’s infectious voice and some stunning visuals, it somehow never rises to the occasion; noisy and colorful, but otherwise never rekindling the magic as before.

The movie’s fourth vignette is Las Posadas (literally translated as ‘inn’ or ‘shelter’), depicting a small group of Mexican children celebrating Christmas with a re-enactment of the journey of Mary and Joseph.  Repeatedly denied refuge, the children are eventually welcomed into a stranger’s home, culminating with the breaking of a piñata. We regress to Donald’s discovery of his own piñata in the gift box. Now, we are reintroduced to Jose Carioca and a new edition; Panchito Pistoles – a gun-toting Mexican rooster who elects to take his cohorts on a flying sarape to Pátzcuaro, Veracruz and Acapulco. The trio sails overhead, hunting down bathing beauties on a beach and indulging in some Latin rhythms along the way.  Over the skies of Mexico City, Donald falls in love with the disembodied head of singer, Dora Luz, warbling the melodic ballad, ‘You Belong to My Heart’: a phantasmagoric display of colors and shapes. This bizarre ‘dream sequence’ segues into the picture’s finale, as Panchito leads his cohorts in the title tune. “We’re three caballeros, three gay caballeros, they say we are birds of a feather…we're happy amigos, no matter where he goes, the one, two, and three goes, we're always together.” The lyrics to this infectious ditty are a joyous celebration of cross-cultural camaraderie, written by Ray Gilbert and performed by Clarence Nash (the voice of Donald Duck), José Oliveira (Jose Carioca) and Joaquin Garay (Panchito). But the song is actually based on Ay, Jalisco, no te rajes: a Mexican tune composed in 1941 by Manuel Esperón with lyrics by Ernesto Cortázar. We follow ‘these three happy chappies, with snappy serapes, who party beneath their gaudy sombreros. They sing and they samba, and shout, ‘Ay caramba!’ until ‘some Latin baby, says yes, no or maybe.’

In this case, the girl happens to be Carmen Molina from Oaxaca, miraculously transformed via Donald’s hallucinations from a cactus into A Charro-wearing dancer with a riding crop. Donald and Carmen perform the spirited ‘La Zandunga’, accompanied by other dancing cacti, and then ‘Jesusita en Chihuahua’, a trademark of the Mexican Revolution. This sequence is notable for its masterful combination of live-action and animation. Carmen and Donald effortlessly engage one another as the other colorful cacti swirl around and swarm them. Now, Panchito and José intrude. Donald battles a toy bull on wheels, loaded with firecrackers. The toy explodes, its display of pyrotechnics spelling out ‘the end’ – first, in Spanish (Fin), accompanied by the colors of the Mexican flag; then, similarly, in Portuguese (Fim) and the colors of Brazil, and finally, in English, and American ‘red’, ‘white’ and ‘blue’.

In hindsight, Saludos Amigos plays like a ‘coming attraction’ trailer for The Three Caballeros; a far more flamboyant excursion. While the live-action sequences in Saludos Amigos were all photographed in Technicolor, under less than perfect natural lighting conditions, they pale to the lush and fully-saturated hues of Walt’s studio-bound reincarnations of Latin Americana on display in The Three Caballeros. The integration of live-action and animation in this latter movie is also far more accomplished. And yet, many of The Three Caballeros’ animated sequences lack heart; particularly ‘The Cold-Blooded Penguin’ that gets the movie off to a very rocky start. It seems almost sacrilege to criticize Walt’s legendary nine old men for a lack of originality here. But this sequence alone simply fails to engage the viewer as it should. The animators have better success with ‘The Flying Gauchito’, and, of course, the finale: a tour de force where all stops are pulled out for a chaotic display of color and noise; easily, the most excised and revived sequence, endlessly featured on the Disney Channel, at the Mexican pavilion of Florida’s Epcot Center, and, rumored to have been the inspiration for John Landis’ 1986 comedy, Three Amigos, costarring Steve Martin, Chevy Chase and Martin Short.

Disney Inc. bows Saludos Amigos and The Three Caballeros on Blu-ray, together for the first time. Alas, this disc is a Disney Exclusive, costing big bucks on Amazon for those of us whittled out by the studio’s present shortsightedness not to include anyone residing outside of the U.S. into their ‘exclusive’ club membership. Walt’s only goal was always to unite the peoples of the world in harmony. Not so much, the custodians presiding over his legacy today! The good news: great pains have been taken in the remastering of each of these features in 1080p. Neither presentation will disappoint. In previous releases, Disney Inc. had elected to digitally remove the cigar Jose Carioca perpetually chomps on, as well as the cigarette loosely dangling from Goofy’s lips during the ‘El Gaucho’ sequence. Mercifully, both have been reinstated herein. This Blu-ray features the unaltered and original theatrical releases of each movie, albeit with a disclaimer about the perils of smoking.

Colors are eye-popping. As with other animated features released to Blu-ray, Disney has homogenized film grain to the point of obliteration. By my eyes, it doesn’t impact one’s enjoyment of either film, though, undoubtedly there will be those who poo-poo its removal. Even so, there are no ‘waxy’ misfires a la The Sword and the Stone here. Contrast is beautifully balanced and fine detail is revealed throughout. As already stated, the live-action sequences in Saludos Amigos appear less luminous, owing to their natural lighting conditions. But the vibrancy of 3-strip Technicolor ensures virtually everything presented is sparkling, crisp and absolutely gorgeous – even at a glance. The one unforgivable sin all Disney Inc.’s ‘exclusive’ Blu-rays share in is the absence of ‘extra features’.

Personally, I do not see the point in such omissions. The archival work has already been done for prior DVD releases, ergo, it costs the studio nothing to include them on their Blu-rays. We will forgo attempting to deconstruct the current executive mindset of Disney Inc.’s home video apparatus. In my not so humble opinion, they possess none!  If Walt were alive today, I have no doubt the progressive mogul would have seen to it by now that virtually all of his hard-achieved monuments to animation and live-action – including Song of the South – had found their way on Blu-ray for everyone to enjoy. We will wait in the hope of better things and see if the current brain trust (and I use this term quite loosely) at the Mouse House gets their act together. Where for art thou, Melody Time, Make Mine Music, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, the original The Parent Trap, That Darn Cat, The Moon Spinners, The Happiest Millionaire, The Journey of Natty Gann…oh heck, my head hurts. Bottom line: Saludos Amigos and The Three Caballeros come highly recommended. Good stuff here, but if you don’t live in the continental U.S. expect to pay through the nose for it! More back catalog – pretty please!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

Saludos Amigos – 3.5

The Three Caballeros – 3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

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