Katja Jylkka’s previous work for The Toast can be found here.
Disney has always toyed with the boundary between man and animal. As The Toast has covered previously, these boundaries have not necessarily been consistent across its films. The ecology of Disney is a strange and unknowable realm, and nowhere is that more clear than in examining its animal sidekicks.
Their sentience varies, as does their capacity for human speech. Take, as examples, Archimedes and the owl from Sleeping Beauty. Archimedes, Merlin’s owl familiar and sidekick in The Sword in the Stone, is essentially a gruff little human, articulate and apparently just as well read as Merlin. The owl from Sleeping Beauty, on the other hand, is nameless and just anthropomorphic enough to know what dancing is. Potentially the same species (or at least the same order), these two birds play different roles in the films and could not be more behaviorally distinct.
Archimedes
Unnamed Sleeping Beauty Owl
Characters such as Archimedes and, say, Ariel’s friend Flounder, are so anthropomorphic that they not only have to worry about animal dangers (getting eaten by predatory fish, for example), but also about the quagmire of human problems (getting into disagreements with their human friend/master).
But what about the animals that are “just” animals, the ones that are the least anthropomorphized and (largely) incapable of speech, but are still important characters in their own right? In the Disney films of yore, does their non-speaking status give them license to act truer to their real-life animal counterparts?
In some ways, no. The shared role of many Disney sidekicks – to take charge of all of the worrying that the protagonist doesn’t have the time or inclination for or, conversely, to get into all the mischief that the main character shies away from – means that the same personality gets doled out to many critters regardless of their species. Take Meeko, Pocahontas’s raccoon buddy, and Abu, Aladdin’s little simian friend – their gluttonous, mischievous, yet loyal qualities have strong similarities, happy to help their human friend, but probably stuffing stolen food into their cheeks or little vest first. That being said, there have tended to be moments when it is clear that the animators used live animals to model their characters’ movements on (something that often happens, in both Disney and non-Disney films using animated animals.) An example that jumps to mind is Meeko using his front paws to clean crumbs off his snout, or when the animators behind How to Train Your Dragon’s Toothless talk about their desire to incorporate a rabbit’s specific hopping maneuver into the dragon’s movements. Animators will watch hours of YouTube videos featuring the target animal, and studios consider it well worth their money to bring in experts on animal behavior and sometimes live animals themselves so as to best realize their characters.
So, what’s with all the dogs then?
Let me explain.
And first off, don’t get me wrong, I love dogs. At a party, I can probably be found in the kitchen, making friends with the host’s dog and ignoring crowds of my fellow humans. I even have one of my own – which is why I took particular notice when canine behaviors started popping up in weird places.
Don’t believe me?
Lilo & Stitch (2002)
“But that’s part of the story!” you say. “Of course Stitch isn’t really a dog, that’s why it’s funny.” True. The movie’s premise – that an alien mutant finds refuge on Earth and masquerades as a young girl’s rescue dog to evade capture – depends on the idea that it’s ridiculous that anyone truly buy that this blue, bipedal creature is a dog. “You sure it’s a dog?” their friend David asks, nervously. “Uh huh,” Lilo responds, “He used to be a collie before he got ran over.” But there are moments, Stitch’s propensity for growling and for sniffing out the location of people and things in particular, when his canine-ness isn’t all feigned. Apparently, in the prequel comics for Lilo & Stitch, it is explained “One of the genes was from a puppy, explaining Stitch’s resemblance to a dog (though Jumba did not know how it got in there).”
Dinosaur (2000)
If that didn’t convince you, maybe this will. When the protagonist, Aladar, crosses paths with a herd of dinosaurs all heading to the nesting grounds, he meets Eema, another dinosaur, and Url, her pet dinosaur. Let me say that again: Eema is a styracosaurus, a triceratops-looking animal, and Url is an ankylosaurus, squat and small and canine in a way that no other dinosaurs in the movie are. Watch as Url meets Aladar for the first time (from about :30- :48), panting in excitement, apparently incapable of speech like the other dinosaurs, capering, spinning and wagging its spiked tail.
Hercules (1997)
Hercules is the first of a number of Disney movies to give the steed some less steed-ly, more canine characteristics. Described by Zeus as “a magnificent horse…with the brain of a bird,” Pegasus has a little more than that going on, considering his propensity for licking those he loves. Now, there’s some debate about this. Some horse experts claim that licking from a horse is the animal being “fresh” and is only the prelude to a bite, while others say that “lipping” and licking are normal signs of a horse’s affection for humans. Considering how my dog wakes me up most mornings, Pegasus’s preferred method of greeting his favorite human looks pretty canine to me.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Phoebus’s horse Achilles responds to two typically canine commands in his brief time in the movie’s spotlight: sitting on command (to stop a guard from chasing Esmeralda) and heeling next to Phoebus as they walk down the street. Fun fact: the horse’s name is Achilles for the sole reason that the movie’s writers could then include the line “Achilles, heel!”
Tangled (2010)
The equine meets its height of canine in Maximus, the horse who takes upon himself the task of hunting down Flynn Rider. Maximus literally sniffs out Flynn like a hound on the scent. Finding Flynn, he is ready to turn the criminal in until Rapunzel orders him to sit on his haunches and drop the boot he was holding. Scratching him under the chin, he defies both his anatomy and the laws of physics to wag his tail and kicks his hind leg.
Frozen (2013)
The last and most recent spread of the canine has been all the way to the ungulate realm in Disney’s Scandinavia. Sven the reindeer, like his equine predecessors, is more dog than anything else. Reindeer, like dogs, do naturally pant when overheated… but they don’t wag their little nub of a tail or move with the loping, loose-limbed bounciness that Sven does. His official Disney bio even calls him a “reindeer with the heart of a Labrador,” and the animators credit inspiration for Sven’s movements not only to the live reindeer brought into the studio for that purpose, but also to Frankie, John Lasseter’s dog.
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In movies like these, Disney’s behavioral biodiversity divides more simply into dog-like and non-dog-like. Apart from movies explicitly focused on dogs (Bolt, for example), actual dogs are fairly rare. Yet the behaviors and character traits we most often associate with dogs – their goofy good nature, loyalty, and familiar ways of showing affection – are just too useful to give up, and already handily “coded” for us.
Tags: animals, disney, humor, katja jylkka, movies
I always got an antagonistic-but-loving life-partners vibe from Merlin and Archimedes. Keepin’ it spicy after all these years.
Merlin:Archimedes::Jafar:Iago ?
definitely yes, though obv, Merlichimedes>>>>>Jafago.
Merlichimedes. Say it loud and there’s music playing…
Just remembered something from my childhood – I was always upset that Timon said he doesn’t eat meat but exclaimed a worm tasted like chicken. HOW DOES HE KNOW THEN?
Really makes you think….
2 things:
1)I think his claim of not eating meat is specifically present tense. You don’t develop a “don’t care about anything ever” life policy without going through some shit. Timon could be an ex-cannibal for all we know. Hak-Mat, bro.
2) HOW ARE BUGS NOT MEAT
Same–“if you wanna live like us, you gotta learn to eat like us” implies entomophagy is part of that lifestyle, which he picked up when he began living in that place with that lifestyle, which was obviously not his whole life because he has no relatives there.
Maybe he was using a warthog phrase that didn’t translate neatly (“tastes like the savory rhizomes of digit grass!”), so they went for the nearest English idiom.
YOU TASTE LIKE SAVORY RHIZOMES.
…studios consider it well worth their money to bring in experts on animal behavior and sometimes live animals themselves so as to best realize their characters.
So, where do I apply to be “bringer-in of live animals to animation studios”???
I know Pixar isn’t really Disney, but I swear to God, Dug is the perfect encapsulation of what a dog is.
DON’T TELL ME THAT THERE IS ANY BETTER PORTRAYAL OF A DOG ON FILM. THERE IS NOT.
Not all dogs are this open with their hearts. I have met several that were positively aloof. My own pup, Mr. Wiggles, gave precisely zero craps about me for like eight months after I brought him home. Despite extensive walks, treats, non-intrusive offers of scritches, and free access to all my furniture.
“My name is Wiggles. I have just met you, and I–oh heyyy, is that a couch? Nice. I’ll let you know when I want to go outside, you may go.”
Oh certainly there are awesomely aloof dogs, but Dug is a golden retriever. And basically every golden retriever I’ve ever known acts exactly like him. Pixar really nailed the personality of that dopey breed. Including the instant love they show towards strangers… which not gonna lie, can be kind of insulting to an owner at times, haha.
Have you checked Mr. Wiggles, I mean really checked him?
I suspect that he is, in fact, a cat.
I never really considered it til now, but Archimedes in the original T.H. White book was a lot less anthropomorphic than his movie counterpart. White must have spent some time around pet birds, because he really captures the domestic avian temperament: proud, preoccupied with dignity, affectionate (though quick to withdraw affection if offended), and wary of strangers who neglect to bring treats.
“Oh, what a lovely owl!” cried the Wart.
But when he went up to it and held out his hand, the owl grew half as tall again, stood up as stiff as a poker, closed its eyes so that there was only the smallest slit to peep through – as you are in the habit of doing when told to shut your eyes for hide-and-seek – and said in a doubtful voice:
“There is no owl.”
Then it shut its eyes entirely and looked the other way.
“It is only a boy,” said Merlyn.
“There is no boy,” said the owl hopefully, without turning round.
yes i love this
“There is no boy,” said the owl hopefully, without turning round. <– how i approach any problem in my life
White spent some time trying to train a hawk the way they did in the middle ages, and he wrote a splendid and melancholy book about the experience called The Goshawk. I’m not clear enough on the timelines to know if the goshawk inspired the owl, but White definitely knew some things about birds.
I wonder if part of an explanation is that most people are familiar with dogs, and so “i’m friendly” behavior from a dog is recognizable to everyone, whereas behavior that means the same thing from a horse or reindeer is less obvious.
Some horses really do like to lick. My grey Arabian gelding, Sterling (a.k.a. “Fluffy”), is a licker. He never nips or bites. Sometimes he’ll just relaxedly stand behind me (or my husband) with his tongue just resting on my shoulder. He has a mineral block and a sulphur block, so it’s not like he needs to lick salt off of my skin. I think he just likes it.
Both of my horses know their names and come when called. Vee, my chestnut Arabian gelding, responds quite well to voice commands and to hand commands. If I say “ball,” he’ll go find his ball and bring it to me. If I groom Sterling first, Vee will take the brushes and other grooming tools out of the grooming bucket then toss each item in my direction.
Arabians sometimes act more canine than equine. 😉
One of my horses is really licky too, it drives me mad. He was really bitey though, not in a mean way, but in an ‘I must explore this with my teeth’ baby way, so I think the constant licking is his alternative now he’s learned that teeth are not acceptable. I am hoping he’s going to grow out of it at some point.
THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER. I always wanted an Arabian- they were always my favorite breed. FLUFFY!
What I like about Maximus is the part where he gets one of the soldier’s swords in his teeth and fights Flynn with it. There are a lot of animals mixed up in that horse.
Ponies like swordfighting too!
What I like about Maximus is the part where he gets one of the soldier's swords in his teeth and fights Flynn with it. There are a lot of animals mixed up in that horse.
THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER. I always wanted an Arabian- they were always my favorite breed. FLUFFY!