WRITER'S CUT: The Many Hybrids of "Roger Rabbit"

"WRITER'S CUT": A collection of previously-published posts that have been thoroughly reexamined and re-edited by yours truly. (The following was originally published on February 28, 2018.) 

In a world where human beings and cartoon characters co-exist, a hard-boiled private detective is assigned to help a superstar rabbit who is framed for murder. That's the basic premise of the 1988 Disney-produced full-length feature, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, a film that not only broke new ground in seamlessly combining live-action and animation, but with other unlikely elements, for better and/or worse. To understand this film's impact, one must understand two things: where the Walt Disney Studio was at around this time, and where the state of Hollywood was. 

First, Disney. The company had been in a slump since the death of Walt in 1967. That's not to say the theme parks and live-action movies didn't do fairly good business (which they did). Plus, a new generation of animators were being trained by the old guard at the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts). The thing is, the company's animation division was in decline for over a decade. Enter 1984. Management had shifted that year with the announcement of Michael Eisner and Frank Wells as the company's new CEO and President, respectfully, while Jeffrey Katzenberg and vice-chairman Roy E. Disney (nephew of Walt) oversaw the animation department. 

1985's financial disappointment that was The Black Cauldron (which had been in development at the studio for years) was Disney's attempt to keep in step with other adventure blockbusters of the time (namely, Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars). Meanwhile, another project that had long been in development was a script by writers Jeffrey Price and Peter Sherman, based on Gary K. Wolf's noir novel, "Who Censored Roger Rabbit" (which centered on comic-strip characters instead of "Toons"). Add in director Robert Zemeckis (fresh off of 1985's Back to the Future), executive producer Steven Spielberg (a lifelong animation fan), veteran animator Richard Williams and cutting-edge visual effects, and the rest is history. 

Hollywood, on the other hand, had been making radical shifts in onscreen content since the 1960s. Particularly in the 1980s, various studios released several "PG-rated" films (some produced by Spielberg) that, while box-office hits, contained dark, sinister, violent and/or nightmarish elements that have traumatized children for years. (Remember Large Marge in Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, or the green creatures in Gremlins? Of course you do.) 

In the fascinating 2009 documentary Waking Sleeping Beauty, veteran Disney producer Don Hahn recounted a survey that the studio did years prior, which stated that "a majority of teenage moviegoers wouldn't be caught dead near a Disney movie [let alone an animated one]." (Go figure.) This dark period in the history of the Mouse House arguably began to turn in 1986 with the release of the well-received The Great Mouse Detective. But it was Who Framed Roger Rabbit that was reportedly responsible for reviving critics' and audiences' interest in the medium.

One could argue that the story in Roger Rabbit is that of a man (Eddie Valient, played by Bob Hoskins) rediscovering who he used to be--before a tragic incident sent him into a downward spiral--as well as his faith in cartoons and what they represent, by way of solving a murder case (and stopping a deadly plan to put an end to the existence of "Toontown"). How's that for an interesting real-life parallel? 

Bob Hoskins side-by-side with his animated co-star,
after "bumping the lamp"

"Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" 

Disney had combined animation and live-action before with films like the "Alice Adventures" from the 1920s, followed by Song of the South (1946), Mary Poppins (1964), and Pete's Dragon (1977). And who could forget Gene Kelly's ever-popular dance with Jerry the Mouse in the classic MGM short from 1944? 

Of course, this hybrid between both mediums has been done so often--especially in this day and age of CGI action extravaganzas involving giant robots, superheroes, and goofy minions--that many forget (or may not even know) that there once was a time where cell drawings were the norm, not to mention a rare achievement. Especially if they were done right, cinematically-speaking. In other words, by really convincing audiences that both the characters and/or worlds were occupying the same space, was there the suspension of disbelief. 

Richard Williams had been making a career out of bending the conventional rules of what animation was capable of, whether in the hundreds of commercials he and his team created since the 1960s and 1970s, his Oscar-winning short version of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, his feature-film adaptation of Raggedy Ann & Andy, or his years-in-the-making passion project The Thief and the Cobbler (but that's another story). 

When meeting with Robert Zemeckis to discuss Roger Rabbit, Williams sought to break several preconceived "rules" when integrating animated characters in the real world: moving the camera around as much as possible, having cartoons interact with real objects and people as much as possible, and incorporating special lighting and shadow effects that had never been achieved to such an extreme. The resulting film is a culmination of these unconventional and modern approaches, along with other unlikely elements and factors that had never been achieved before either: special effects in a period film-noir setting; and animation that echoed the first Golden Age of Disney, characterizations that echoed Warner Brothers, and off-the-wall humor that echoed Tex Avery shorts. Even Roger's character design, according to Williams, is a combination of various classic characters (i.e., Goofy's pants, Porky Pig's bow tie). Yet the zany rabbit stands as his own, especially with his trademark speech impediment.

I'll reiterate, as many can attest here. The animation in Who Framed Roger Rabbit is phenomenal and unparalleled, and represented a landmark in motion pictures. (I'll never forget that opening scene in the film, where Roger and Baby Herman walk off an animated movie set and into the real world.) All animation (save for three shots of stop-motion effects) was done by hand and required not only flat drawings, but optical effects as well to give each character a three-dimensional look while retaining a classic mid-20th Century authenticity. Hoskins (who sadly passed away in 2014) does an incredible job making us thoroughly believe he's really interacting with "imaginary" characters, getting the eye-lines and emotions down to a tee. 

A great example of these elements combined is the scene where Eddie is trying to saw a pair of handcuffs off of him and Roger in the back of a local bar, after accidentally bumping into a lamp. The term "bumping the lamp" was created during the making of Roger Rabbit, referring to the animators and technicians going above and beyond to make certain moments feel extra special, even though most viewers probably wouldn't notice them.

We have to also mention the unique mechanical devices that were created to mimic various character actions on set (before being traced over in post-production), whether it was the henchmen weasels carrying guns, Baby Herman smoking and gesturing with a cigar, or Roger smashing plates onto his head one by one. It's one thing for real actors to pick up animated props (like a boxing-glove hammer), but it's entirely another for cartoons to do the same thing with real objects. It's hard to believe that no computers or tracking software were used for any of these effects, and the film is all the richer and idiosyncratic for it. Plus, it makes the setting (and its VistaVision cinematography) representative of the late-40s . 

Reportedly, the most amazing contribution that Spielberg made was convincing several studios to loan out their cartoon stars for cameo appearances--and for good trivial fun. In fact, this was the first and only time that characters from Disney and Warner Bros have been in the same movie. Remember Donald Duck and Daffy Duck's piano duet in the Ink & Paint Club, or Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny sky-diving? Or how about Eddie's first walk through the Maroon cartoon studio as he passes "half the cast of Fantasia"? 

Roger Rabbit and Eddie Valiant

"The Parts That I Don't Like, I'm Gonna Edit Out"

This is all great news, in terms of keeping the craft and creativity of the medium alive. And the film was very worthy of the Academy Awards it received for its film and sound editing, and for its visual effects, not to mention its overwhelming raves from numerous film critics like Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert. However, when it comes to "family" entertainment in retrospect, this is a film parents of young children ought to think twice about.

Sure, the movie's funny, clever, and imaginative, especially for cinephiles and animation geeks. (I'm one of them.) And even though critic Leonard Maltin once wrote that the film's true high mark was "making us believe that Roger and his cartoon colleagues actually exist," don't let Who Framed Roger Rabbit make you believe it's appropriate for kids. The film-noir atmosphere (with support from Alan Silvestri's bizarre score) makes it equally thrilling, sometimes unpleasant, even provocative. Roger's sexy wife Jessica (with her revealing and exaggerated wardrobe and bosom) is unfortunately made a figure of unnecessary objectification. Baby Herman can be misogynistic. And lest we forget, veteran character actor Christopher Lloyd (as the menacing Judge Doom, with his Toon-killing "dip") has a shocking revelation that still frightens me--and many others--to this day. (Zemeckis has had a reputation for dark comedy, having gone on to executive produce the anthology T.V. series Tales From the Crypt.)

One would wonder how the writers and filmmakers got away with, as Eddie describes, "a story of greed, sex, and murder" in a PG-rated film. "It was the Eighties," joked Zemeckis at a 2013 Q&A/cast and crew reunion, while adding that this movie couldn't be made today for those reasons (The film's effects, meanwhile, have never been attempted since.) Michael Eisner, to his credit, considered the film "too risque" to be distributed under the Disney label, and instead released it under their more adult-oriented Touchstone Pictures banner. At least the three spin-off Roger Rabbit shorts (1989's Tummy Trouble, 1990's Roller Coaster Rabbit, and 1993's Trail Mix-Up) were less problematic, and the quality of animation at Disney continued to rapidly grow for kids and adults. Like the wall that breaks between both the real world and Toontown at the end of the film, there was hope for the medium, and for other characters and stories to captivate and humor audiences beyond just pencil drawings. If only they could do that again today like they did then, sans the gratuitous elements. "Pppppppplease."