WRITER'S NOTE: The attached link/video near the end contains scary and violent images and is not appropriate for young children.
This is usually the time of year when many people watch scary movies. I myself have written a couple of posts on the horror genre (in 2017 and 2019), for better or worse. This year, I decided to center a piece on an era of films that my generation and I grew up with in the 1980s and 1990s, including Disney classics of the early- to late-20th Century. And while there's plenty of nostalgia to go around, it's incredible to think how much these films got passed the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America, now simply the MPA) as far as questionable content, particularly dark and/or scary elements that traumatized our upbringing. I don't know what's more amazing: how many of these movies did just that, or the fact that we survived most of (if not all of) them.
I'm talking specifically about films that seemed kid-friendly enough when we were young, but were, truth be told, not really meant to be handled at such a young age. In other words, just because the MPAA stamped them with a "general audience" or "parental guidance" label didn't mean it was for entirely kid-friendly or, at worse, not really at all. (One of my posts on the history of Disney animation earlier this year emphasizes "age-appropriateness" at best.)
For me, the most traumatic movie moments growing up consisted of a henchman bat bursting out of nowhere--twice--in The Great Mouse Detective, Christopher Lloyd's shocking revelation as the psychopathic Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and even an otherwise lovable finger-glowing alien who made a wide-eyed expression before making bikes fly in E.T. (Honestly, these images still give me the heebie-jeebies sometimes.) For others, there are the Wicked Witch and her flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, the psychedelic boat ride in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and Large Marge in Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.
Yes, these movies really stayed with us, for better or worse. On the other hand, I think the question we should be asking is this: Did they leave us with anything worthwhile in spite of that? Furthermore, how did they (whether intentional or not) prepare us for the world we would be facing in subsequent years?
I'd like to spend some time mentioning one such film, one that I remember from my childhood but never actually saw until I was older (which was, perhaps, a good thing). It's a film that I've gained a great respect and affection for, one that effectively holds up, and is a good example of whether it's necessary or not to subject such "darkness" to children, whatever age they may be.
Based on Robert C. O'Brien's 1971 children's book, "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH," The Secret of NIMH follows a courageous mouse named Mrs. Brisby, who seeks help from a gang of intelligent lab rats to move her family home on a farm before the plowing season, especially for her bed-ridden son, Timothy, who is sick with pneumonia. Brisby encounters various dangers, including a farm cat and a Great Owl, as well as guidance from unexpected allies.
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| Mrs. Brisby encounters the mysterious but wise Nicodemus in The Secret of NIMH |
This film is considered one of the darkest animated features marketed to children, alongside 1978's more adult-oriented and violent Watership Down. Mrs. Brisby's visit to the eye-glowing Great Owl, for one, still ranks high as one of several movie scenes that have scared many kids for years. Don Bluth (a former Disney animator who made his directorial debut here) wasn't afraid to shy away from such content in his films. One reason he made NIMH was because Disney, at the time, wouldn't greenlight such a dark story. Ironic, considering the Mouse House produced the controversial The Black Cauldron in 1985, three years after NIMH's release. Bluth's other films from the same decade, including 1985's An American Tail, 1988's The Land Before Time, and 1989's All Dogs Go To Heaven, contain scenes of equally bleak imagery and intense situations, many involving children. (I, for one, found his 1991 feature Rock’a’Doodle, to be a personally unpleasant experience.)
Make no mistake, for younger children and for older audiences, NIMH is a dark fantasy film. But unlike many other films of the 80s and 90s, the experience does have thought-provoking subtext and thematic weight, more on par with The Lord of the Rings, among other examples. From a filmmaking standpoint, it harkens back to the age of golden animation in the 30s and 40s, while appealing to a modern audience but not condescending them. Rotten Tomatoes' consensus states, "The Secret of NIMH is a dark, well-told tale that respects its young audience enough to not tone down its subject matter." Indeed, the film's themes of facing the dangers of the world are life-affirming, and can even subtly invoke awareness of such families in similar situations (though not as fantastical). The same goes for a parent's love for their children.
"Without darkness, you can't appreciate the light," Bluth once stated, "If it weren't for December, you wouldn't appreciate May." Likewise, Dorothy Gale's journey through Oz wouldn't have been as maturing, nor would those of the Fellowship to destroy the One Ring. Plus, each child with a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's factory wouldn't have been their respective archetypes for nothing. (To be fair, Wonka does mention that--SPOILER ALERT--all of the kids survive the tour by the end.)
As far as age-appropriateness goes, it simply should come down to parents and what they decide. George Lucas was interviewed by WIRED magazine several years ago, and he had this to say about being a parent: "If you've raised children, you know you have to explain things to them, and if you don't, they end up learning the hard way."
On the contrary, I'm also reminded of a scene in 2006's Little Miss Sunshine, where Greg Kinner and Toni Collette argue over whether or not their seven-year-old daughter should listen to a certain adult conversation, to which Collette quips, "Well, she's going to find out anyway!" In spite of the fact that this family is dysfunctional, she does have something of a point.
Now, I'm not suggesting that every movie marketed to families should be seen by that demographic, nor should parents carelessly use such films as passive babysitters. (Let's be legit, some of our parents--and even we--have been or are guilty of that.) On the other hand, I guess the lesson and reminder here is that parents need to be aware that their kids are going to experience adversities and challenges in the world, sooner or later.
More importantly, parents should be ready and willing to talk to their kids and help them process. That's why I'm so grateful for resources like Focus on the Family's PluggedIn, and for my mission statement behind the creation of this film blog to begin with. And with Halloween this week (not to mention the pandemic everybody is going, fighting, and struggling through), this is as good a time as any.
