Fantástica aventura

I once saw this film when I was a small child. I don't know how old, and I barely remembered anything of it, but for some reason, something was causing this full-length, animated movie to stick in the back of my mind for years as I was growing up. I realized that until I fulfilled this desire to see this film again, some part of me would be at unrest. Now, a good 15 years later and a young adult with more money and quite a different mind, I was finally able to purchase a used, rental copy.

I wasn't sure at first how I would react. Would I consider this film childish now? Made in 1977, would it show its age considerably?

I would hate to give away too much of the film, as I firmly believe it must be seen to be understood. The story is simple; a toy mouse and his 'child' embark on a quest to become 'self-winding'. In other words, a journey from childhood to adulthood, from being a robot doing what we are told without question, to becoming an individual with the capability to carry out our own passions and desires. Along their twisted and unsure way to self-fulfillment, they meet a fortune-telling frog, a windup elephant, a muskrat, and other friends, while avoiding the antagonist, the despicable Manny the Rat.

This probably sounds terrible about right here, but I can assure you that the film is likely nothing that you are thinking it is. This is not a Disney usical, nor does it try to be something that it isn't. It is a story about love, inspiration, and the following and actualization of one's dreams. It is a story about cruelty, defeat, and cowardice. Most of all, it is a story about human life, and the sacrifices we make in the journey to discover our purpose, our place in the world.

This film is never cheap, never purposely cute, and never insults the viewer. The animation is not overdone, and attention is paid to detail in all the right places. The settings are wonderful and really add to the story and the situation the main characters are in. The music sets just the right mood at the right times.

I may have enjoyed this film as a child, and I'm not sure what kept it on the back burner through the years at all, but I can definitely say as an adult now the film moved me more than it ever could have as a child. I was literally in tears after the final scene, staring at the credits in silent applause. I had finally found why I couldn't forget about this film, and that is simply because it was excellent and very touching.

Disney may have the special effects, the storybook plots, and the musical majesty. However, when examining a film at deeper than surface level, Disney in all its camaraderie can't touch this powerful and effective film that tells a story about the human condition and how simply unfair life can be.

4 Stars. Probably one of the least acclaimed (and most deserving) animated films I have ever had the pleasure of viewing.

After 30 years of knowing about this non-Disney animated feature, I finally decided to watch The Mouse and His Child on YouTube. The animation is both haunting and beautiful in many places. The characters are appealing when they concern the "wind-ups" and some forest animals and suitably creepy when displaying most of the rats. The story seems simple but some characters go on tangents about life that threatens to become pretentious after a while though that happens only for a few minutes. Not much of humor happens here though it was amusing hearing Frank Nelson as a crow, Andy Devine (in his last role) as a frog, and Cloris Leachman as, I think, a bird. I was pleasantly surprised to see in the end credits that of Charles Schulz Creative Associates as one of the companies involved. Oh, and one of the wonderfully weirdest scenes involved seeing the Bosco can show the dog posed with a picture of him looking the same in position ad infinitum (to illustrate infinity). On that note, I guess that's a recommendation for The Mouse and His Child.

1977's "The Extraordinary Adventures of the Mouse and His Child" was coproduced in Hollywood by the Japanese greeting card company Sanrio, lasting a full year on a budget of $1.5 million. Russell Hoban's 1967 novel proved a difficult subject for what was advertised as a children's animated feature, confirmed by its dismal box office take as a perceived BOMB (as Leonard Maltin casually dismissed it). While the animation itself leaves much to be desired, the story remained faithful to its source and many viewers from a very young age could not forget the lessons gleaned from their long ago acquaintance. We open on a tramp with a barking dog looking through the window of McMacken's Toys to see a clockwork father mouse marching while holding his son in the air, their predetermined fate to repeat this same action every time their owner winds them up through the key in the father's back. The other toys scoff at the child mouse's wish for them all to remain a family unit, only for father and son to fall off the shelf and wind up at the dumpster, where the aforementioned tramp (the distinctive tones of venerable John Carradine) repairs the damage, winds them up, and watches them walk away to an uncertain future with but two words: "be tramps!" Top billed Peter Ustinov has a field day with Manny the Rat, putting toys like them to work as slave labor for his rodent army, not expecting these two mice to escape with the help of Andy Devine's psychic Frog (the final role for the rotund actor with the gravelly voice). The only way that the mouse and his child can be free is to become 'self winding,' thus self reliant and able to cope in a world of infinite dangers, rather than discarded when no longer needed like so many more deserving toys. The climax finds Manny earning his comeuppance and Carradine's tramp surveying things with the last two words: "be happy." The central characters are actually its weakest link, they move from one incident to the next without complaint and let others handle the rough stuff. The drab, cheerless colors are poorly realized, perhaps deliberately, ably invoking a gloomy atmosphere that still managed to sear itself into many childhood memories. Despite special billing and with only four words to speak, John Carradine fans may be forgiven to find their hero ill used, but another animated part loomed on the horizon conceived in his own arthritic image, 1982's "The Secret of NIMH," while his first such feature, "Shinbone Alley," was an adult item from 1969 that also suffered a similar disappointing fate in cinemas and still remains unappreciated. Other vocal talent on hand include Cloris Leachman, Sally Kellerman, Neville Brand, and Jack Benny sidekick Frank Nelson, all very impressive for a title that has only been issued on VHS in the US.

I was seven years old when this film came out, and probably around 8 or 9 when I first saw it on HBO. Now, at 31, I still can remember with startling clarity almost every detail of this movie! Is it dark? Yes. Is it deep? Yes. But what a great way to introduce pre-pre teens to higher concepts of philosophy! If you are tired of your youngsters filling up on the piffle that passes for children's movies and are looking for something more, this is the film for you. The plot is definitely heavy- lots of emphasis on philosophical concepts and deeper modes of thought; but it will stick with you and your child, and give lots of topics to converse on that go beyond "princess meets prince" threads that permeate most movies available for this age group.

I would strongly suggest that the parent view the film with the child (and probably recommend that parents watch the movie first without the kiddies- so to be prepared for the inevitable questions when viewed with children). A fantastic way to make a child think, instead of burst into song!

I aquired my own copy of "the Mouse and His Child" from a video store that (go figure) was just going to throw it away. I hadn't seen it in many years but I did remember it as being good.

Well, memory served me well, but not in the way I'd expected!

I can see why the store was so desperate to get rid of this one. Aparently, these days, you aren't going to make it in the Family section (and this really belongs in with the anime and the Bakshi) if you're quiet and introspective. This is one of the heaviest animated films ever made, but I admire it for that. Check it out, if you're able to.

What, you've never seen a cartoon where the characters contemplate infinity?