"What Mickey Means to Me" by Walt Disney

Hello,

A while back, I stumbled upon an essay by Walt Disney titled "What Mickey Means to Me." In this piece, Disney shares what Mickey Mouse symbolizes to him: independence. Just watch 'Steamboat Willie (1928)' and you can see independence in Mickey Mouse. - I've included the essay at the end of this post, sourced from this website: www.mouseplanet.com

Rod Serling This essay inspires me, particularly because it reminded me of a piece of advice from Rod Serling, one of the three writers behind the original "Planet of the Apes" (1968). Serling advised that a story's overall theme should lead to its characters, which then guide the plot.

Mickey Mouse: Independency

In Disney's essay, Mickey Mouse serves as a symbol of independence, aligning with Serling's advice. This got me thinking: in "Steamboat Willie," which came first, the character or the plot? - I bet you figure out the answer by yourself.

Character. Character. Character.

Moreover, let's consider successful cartoon characters like Roadrunner, Beauty and the Beast, the Simpsons, SpongeBob, Superman, Spiderman, Batman, Hero Turtles, South Park, Doraemon, The Sams, Toy Story, WALL-E, and Clownfish "Nemo", Buzz Lightyear, Shrek, Frankenstein. It's just a thought, but I can't help noticing a common thread among all these success stories: character.

If somebody disagree, please feel welcome to comment. Best, Andre

***

Essey: "What Mickey Means to Me."

by Walt Disney

Source: www.mouseplanet.com

Reading time: 5 - 10 min.

"Mickey Mouse to me is a symbol of independence. He was a means to an end. He popped out of my mind onto a drawing pad 20 years ago on a train ride from Manhattan to Hollywood at a time when the business fortunes of my brother, Roy, and myself were at lowest ebb. Born of necessity, the little fellow literally freed us of immediate worry, provided the means for expanding our organization to the present dimensions and for extending the medium of cartoon animation toward new entertainment levels. His first actual screen appearance was in 1928 at the old Colony Theater in New York in Steamboat Willie, with its sound effects and cautious "speech". Since then, he has appeared in more pictures than any flesh-and-blood star. He was the first cartoon character to stress personality and to be consistently kept in character. I thought of him from the first as a distinct individual, not just a cartoon type or symbol going through comedy routines. I kept him away from stock symbols and situations. We exposed him to close-ups. Instead of speeding the cartoons as was then the fashion, we were not afraid to slow down the tempo and let Mickey emote. Mickey soon searched the stage where we had to be very careful about what we permitted him to do. Mickey could never be a rat. He had become a hero in the eyes of his audiences, especially the youngsters. Mickey could do no wrong. I could never attribute any meanness or callow traits to him. We kept him lovable although ludicrous in the blundering heroics. And that's the way he remained, despite any outside influences. Naturally, I am pleased with his continued popularity, here and abroad, with the esteem he has won as an entertainment name, among youngsters and grownups. With the honors he has brought our studio. With the high compliment bestowed when his name was the password for the invasion of France, and with his selection for insignia by scores of fighting units during the war years. These are tributes beyond all words of appreciation. In his immediate and continuously successful appeal to all kinds of audiences, Mickey first subsidized our Silly Symphony series. From there he sustained other ventures, plugging along as our bread-and-butter hero. He was the studio prodigy and pet. And we treated him accordingly. Mickey still speaks in my own falsetto-pitched voice, as he has from the first. In the early days, I did the voice of most of the other characters too. It was not financially feasible to hire people for such assignments. In Steamboat Willie, in addition to speaking for Mickey, I also supplied a few sound effects for Minnie, his girl friend, and for the parrot. For Mickey's first picture, I planned to go all out on sound. And those plans came very near spelling a major disaster for us. To launch our picture impressively, I had hired a full New York orchestra with a famous director to do the recording. The musicians were to cost $10 an hour. I thought 15 men would be enough. But the director insisted on having 30 pieces. Because I was awed by him, I was finally persuaded to take the 30. The upshot was that I had to borrow on my auto and Roy and I had to mortgage our homes as well to cover the cost of that first synchronization for Steamboat Willie. And when it was finished, the thing wasn't in sync. We had to do it all over again! What I wanted most of all, I didn't get: a bull-fiddle for the bass. The recording room was so small that the orchestra could hardly be jammed into it. The bull-fiddle blasted so loudly it ruined the other sound and kept blowing out the lamps. A sad thing, I thought at the time, to launch our Mickey without benefit of a bull-fiddle in so precarious a world of new possibilities and increased competitions. But he survived and thrived and set the pace in his entertainment field. The cost of his vehicles increased from the bare $1,200 for Steamboat Willie to seven figures for Fun and Fancy Free. I often find myself surprised at what has been said about our redoubtable little Mickey, who was never really a mouse, not yet wholly a man—although always recognizably human. Psycho-analysts have probed him. Wise men have pondered him. Columnists have kidded him. Admirers have saluted him. The League of Nations gave him a special medal as a symbol of international good will. Hitler was infuriated by him and thunderingly forbade his people to wear the then popular Mickey Mouse lapel button in place of the Swastika. But all we ever intended for him was that he should make people everywhere chuckle with him and at him. And it is certainly gratifying that the public which first welcomed him two decades ago, as well as their children, have not permitted us, even if we had wished so to do, to change him in any manner or degree other than a few minor revisions of his physical appearance. In a sense, he was never young. In the same sense, he never grows old in our eyes. All we can do is to give him things to overcome in his own rather stubborn way in his cartoon universe. There is much nostalgia for me in these reflections. The life and ventures of Mickey Mouse have been closely bound up with my own personal and professional life. It is understandable that I should have sentimental attachment for the little personage who played so big a part in the course of Disney Productions and who has been so happily accepted as an amusing friend wherever films are shown around the world.

***

Thanks for reading. You are know one wisdom richer.

Best,

André