LADY AND THE TRAMP

New Zealand Listener, Volume 37, Issue 943, 6 September 1957, Page 20

LADY AND THE TRAMP

(Disney-Buena Vista) G Cert. OME unfortunates can’t bear to be in the same room with a cat (Mr Disney, incidentally, may be one of them); for others it’s simply the hair of a dog that bites them. Wherever they come from, our allergies are fearfully and wonderfully contrived, and I suppose mine are no odder than my neighbours’, though in one or two instances they seem to intensify rather than weaken with the years. ; As I edge closer to the sere and yellow, for example, I react with increasing discomfort to Hollywood’s overdoses of sentimentality, and there were too many ‘moments in Lady and the Tramp where I came close to uttering the kind of despairing raspberry a fly emits when finally entangled in the flypaper. Not even the well-sustained satire of the middle reaches of the film (and though it may have been* devised simply as whimsical parody it rings sharply enough in the adult ear) can altogether purge away the cloying stickiness of ‘some of the lyrics or the marshmallow mushiness of those two shadowy figures Jim Dear and Darling. If he goes anywhere at all, Disney goes from bad to worse in his treatment of the human figure, but happily humans (J.D. & D., etc.), occupy only the peripheral area of this production. It’s a dogs’ world we are introduced to, and I would do Walt and his band of animators (eight directing animators, four character animators, two effects dittos) considerably less than justice were I to suggest that the animal creations of Lady and the Tramp are other than brilliant. Indeed, except for the creaking and illarticulated human figures (how much the Buena Vista boys could learn from U.P.A. if only they would!), the general draughtsmanship and the flow of movement are superlatively good. And the dogs themselves are invested with quite memorable personalities. Lady, it’s true, is at times a bit over-sweet (you may not like spaniels, either), but the Tramp -an engaging mongrel with whom she contracts an irregular but subsequently legitimised liaison-is a delightful and enduring creation. So is the Scots tertier, the aged bloodhound (with his old Southern courtesy), the emigré Borzoi, and the faded Pekingese who sings -torchily in a gin-soaked soprano at a seance in the dog-pound. They’re all in their: way entrancing and to some extent the mark of Aesop is on most of them. Listen carefully, too, to the lines they’re given and see if you can find -any that haven’t been used in other and more pretentious Hollywood scripts. There’s bite as well as bark in this dog-opera. I should also mention that there are two quite ferocious cats, and two brief ‘but rather horrible fights. These may, temporarily, have the smaller fry clutching at mother’s hand-but only temporarily. This, in fact, is a family picture which most families will enjoy.