Animation Defenestration: The one with a genocidal machine that's a Disney movie

 

Title: The Brave Little Toaster

What Year?: 1982 (preproduction)/ 1987 (release)

Classification: Improbable Experiment

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

As I write this, I’m at the countdown to Halloween, and I’ve been trying to work ahead. In the middle of it all, I got ready for what amounted to a break for a theatrical re-release of a movie I reviewed around this time last year. That fell through in a chain of events that probably would sound funny if you haven’t actually spent an hour with a theater full of people waiting for the Transformers movie to start. After making my way home, I tried to decompress with something different, and once I watched it, I knew I had to make room for it in my lineup. So that gives an extra colorful introduction to a film I have previously referenced (see Rock And Rule) as an icon of weird 1980s animation, The Brave Little Toaster, a Disney movie that features endearing anthropomorphic appliances getting fed to a garbage masher.

Our story begins with a quick introduction to a group of machines left behind at a vacation cabin. The lot include a radio, a lamp, an electric blanket, a vacuum named Kirby, and the titular toaster all of recognizable 1950s or ‘60s vintage, who spend their time bickering or reminiscing about their master, a kid who once visited the cabin. When they realize that the latest passing car is not the returning Master but a realtor assigned to sell the cabin, they decide to make a break and search him out in the distant city. Their quest quickly becomes a misadventure as they struggle through storms, pesky animals, rivers and the storeroom of a junk collector, unaware that the Master is now a young man looking for them. But the true ordeal will come when they face the Master’s new possessions, a set of top-of-the-line media machines ready to feed the old guard straight into a garbage masher!

The Brave Little Toaster is a 1987 animated film based on a 1980 novel of the same name by science fiction writer Thomas Disch. While the film was funded and distributed by Disney, it was in fact made by Hyperion Animation, after John Lasseter unsuccessfully lobbied for it to be made as a CGI film. The movie’s voice cast included veterans Deanna Oliver as the Toaster, Jon Lovitz as the Radio, and Thul Ravenscroft as Kirby, with the late Phil Hartman in at least two supporting roles. Four original songs were composed by David Newman (see… Critters?), a cousin of Randy Newman. The film received limited theatrical release from 1987 to 1988, including an appearance at the Sundance Festival. The film was shown on the Disney Channel beginning in 1988, and released on VHS in 1991. After initial obscurity, it rose to become probably the best-known and most influential 1980s Disney movie after 1989’s The Little Mermaid. Two direct-to-video sequels were released in 1997 and 1998, the first based on Disch’s own sequel The Brave Little Toaster Goes To Mars. The movie remains on sale as new from a variety of retailers, but representative examples appear to be DVDs from a 2003 release in a “full screen” format carried over from VHS and Laserdisc.

For my experiences, this is yet another movie I didn’t see until college, then on TV while visiting family. As usual, I came out with a quite clear recollection of the majority of the film, especially the mindboggling final act. Maybe 10 years later, I found the DVD just after starting my current career and bought copies for myself and a friend I’ve since lost touch with. What’s stood out throughout that time is that this is a movie that is clearly well-known but still not talked about that much. (The most significant I have found is still Mr. Enter’s 1980s “worst”list, which uses “Worthless” as the introductory music.) It’s a fitting enough reflection of its status and influence in its own time and since. Like many supposedly “odd” films, the most striking thing about it is how little it departs from the “mainstream”, down to the more-Disney-than-Disney characters and animation. While “adult-oriented” animated films like Wizards and Heavy Metal were trying to crash the gates, this was the sneaky little movie that went around the back and walked right in. Needless to say, it’s not “bad”, but dear Logos, it gets dark, maybe more so than any other Disney movie apart from Pinocchio (which I did a long-lost review of a long time ago), with even more whiplash in themes and tone.

That brings us to the movie itself. I have to say I’m still not greatly enamored with it. From the start, its characters are engaging and poignant, yet there isn’t that much that would be memorable if not from what’s to come. What’s most intriguing is that none of them apart from the vacuum has a name independent of his function. It also must be noted that the most energetic and immediately engaging character is the Radio, also easily the least anthropomorphic of the lot. It takes a little time for the Toaster and the other characters come into their own, with Blankie/ Blanket being the most sympathetic. What keeps things odd and awkward is that the machines still don’t envision lives and identities separate from the Master (yes, he’s called that, a whole pile of awkward in itself), instead embarking on the truly horrific ordeal of the quest effectively to forestall a new reality. This jarring selflessness remains a driving force for the crew, and it’s debatable whether any of them outgrow it. The further question of whether the human audience can identify with them only makes the parable more unsettling, which all in all is entirely on-point for Disch, whom I mainly know from “Descending” (see Trapped) and The Genocides.

Then, of course, there’s the finale, which if anything still gets underestimated. Things start going downhill as the crew get bullied by the newer machines, led by a computer. That leads to the “More” musical number, a terrifyingly representative parody that feels like it could be an ad for the mall in Dawn of the Dead. Then we go straight to the junkyard. I've already voiced my suspicions how much this looks like Toy Story 3, though having now looked into the backstory, I can accept that as reparation rather than theft. What seems to get overlooked at this point is that the garbage masher, the symbol of entropy and obsolescence, is really almost devoid of even malevolent personality. It’s the predatory electromagnet shows enough drive and intellect to be a villain, homing in on our protagonist like one of Harryhausen’s flying saucers (clearly the best ever). What’s most subtly horrific is that the equally anthropomorphic cars going into the masher appear resigned to their fate, if not quite willing. And yes, if you’re a bystander who wandered in here instead of what passes for my regular readers whom I would expect to know exactly what I’m talking about, this all happens in an uninterrupted musical number.

That still leaves the “one scene”, and there actually is a scene that stood out to me more than the ending. Just a little way into the movie, we get an especially heartbreaking moment when the machines are briefly ecstatic at the sound of an approaching car that might be the Master. In the aftermath, Blankie begins to cry while the rest begin to bigger. That’s when we hear from the Air Conditioner, voiced by Hartman, otherwise known to me almost exclusively for his guest spot as Paddywhack on Darkwing Duck. The other machines are literally staggered by the blasts of cold air as he lambasts them for their fixation on the Master, which is mostly what a thoughtful critic will be thinking even more loudly. The animation of the character himself is among the very best in a movie full of good animation and characters, fully capturing his not-quite-comical rage as literal sparks begin to fly. Finally, in an extra vulnerable touch, he bellows, “It’s not my fault he couldn’t reach my controls!” It’s a brilliant sequence, and I can happily say it’s representative of what’s to come.

In closing, the main thing I have left to say is that I usually don’t have that much to say about movies that are actually good. This is a movie that unquestionably has significant issues, enough that I could have taken it down a rating. On the balance, however, there are very few things I can truly hold against it. It has plenty of wonky moments, because it’s creative and bold enough to take real chances. It’s all the more startling for a time when even Disney was well-entrenched in the swamps of the Dark Ages. (On the other hand, that reminds me I’m going to have to do a representative in-house 1980s Disney movie sooner or later.) This was a movie that did things that hadn’t been done in a very long time if at all, the same year DuckTales revolutionized TV animation and two years before The Little Mermaid kicked off the purported Disney Renaissance. This was the right movie at exactly the right time, and it actually still holds up long after. If fortune favors the bold, this one is as brassy as the Bronze Age, and for that, it has my respect.

Image credit vhscollector.com.