Fantasia

Fearless mix of classical music and animation, the one movie to satisfy that oft-misused adjective ''unique.'' [01 Nov 1991, p.3D]

This is a bold work that seeks to educate its young audience about classical music. But it is also playful and delightfully imaginative.

It is icon, uplift, art of the future, nostalgia, psychedelic journey, Americana, technological triumph, classic.

A masterpiece of the art of animation. The concept and some of the episodes are tainted with kitsch, but there's no other animated film with its scope and ambition—it is, in Otis Ferguson's words, “one of the strange and beautiful things that have happened in the world.”

Fantasia best can be described as a successful experiment to life the relationship from the plane of popular, mass entertainment to the higher strata of appeal to lovers of classical music.

It’s unquestionably among Disney’s masterpieces.

This is a very patchy affair - while some of the animated pieces work, others come across as downright insane.

Truly a work of art. With its fantastic animation, unforgettable music, memorable characters and greatly told story all making this film an absolute must watch.

A Clever Fusion of Diverse Beauty, Narratives, and Music Woven Together Like a Stylish Live Concert Experience.231016 (3.0)Disney in the 1940s chose to open with an upfront disclaimer stating that the film may contain outdated depictions and discrimination, which actually made the viewing experience feel much more comfortable. It cleverly weaves together various forms of beauty, storytelling, and music, carrying the stylish charm of watching a live concert recording on DVD. It is fascinating how Disney proactively guarded the historical sensibilities of this 1940 work with that opening warning. The overall performance is built upon three distinct musical approaches: music that tells a definite story, music that carries a clear message without a narrative, and absolute music existing purely for itself. Experiencing visuals entirely grounded in music makes me realize just how much I love this format, where every ounce of artistic inspiration originates directly from the score. The iconic, dramatic descending motif that has become such a universal shorthand for despair makes one wonder if this was where that trope truly originated. Watching the fleeting clouds trace a breathtaking trajectory before gently dissipating brought sudden, flowing tears as my own reflection seemed to surface within them. It makes one question what there is to fear, as radiant sounds blend together softly and disperse with effortless grace. Seeing Sorcerer Mickey originate here is thrilling—the rash apprentice bringing brooms to life in a segment where animation and music synchronize flawlessly. The depiction of the Earth's genesis and the evolution of life feels very familiar today, yet realizing how groundbreaking it must have looked back in 1940 sends a genuine chill down the spine. The intermission and soundtrack introduction showcase how classical instruments are visualized as abstract sound waves and how that sound design elevates Disney's imagery. Reinterpreting Beethoven's "Pastoral Symphony" through the mythical realm of Mount Olympus is remarkable: the first movement captures innocence, growth, and family; the second explores romance; the third depicts moral decay and divine punishment—where Zeus hurls lightning bolts at revelers drinking and dancing, scattering innocent creatures in a scene oddly reminiscent of ancient Babylon—culminating in the renewal of the rainbow. Disney at this time clearly held strong gender separation rather than embracing diversity, and the paired centaurs are matched strictly according to corresponding color palettes, subtly suggesting that birds of a feather flock together even if matching color tones was hardly necessary. The rhythmic timing of Hephaestus forging thunderbolts for Zeus to throw fits Beethoven's original composition with astonishing precision. Intriguingly, the rainbow in this sequence displays six colors rather than seven, resembling the modern pride flag. The ballet sequence set to "Dance of the Hours" is instantly recognizable, starting with slender ostriches before moving to plus-sized hippos and elephants attempting ballet routines that are undeniably comical, even if genuine elegance remains entirely out of reach. The climactic juxtaposition of Mussorgsky's "Night on Bald Mountain" and Schubert's "Ave Maria" contrasts God and Satan with breathtaking power. The demon worshippers plunging into hellfire with ecstatic glee humorously undermine traditional divine logic; after all, if they genuinely enjoy the flames of hell, damnation holds no terror for them, proving that punishment is relative and what burns one soul might be sheer revelry to another. Furthermore, night is naturally more enjoyable, making one wonder why darkness is always branded as the domain of evil while the laborious daylight belongs to the divine. This darkness eventually yields to the tranquil procession of pilgrims greeting the dawn with "Ave Maria". As an atheist, it remains difficult to understand why the ultimate goal for many religious believers is to endure spiritual discipline in devotion to an absolute being just to enter heaven after death. Given how exhausting and frustrating it can be simply to navigate the daily struggles of current existence, it is puzzling why anyone would wish to keep living on endlessly into eternity. It leaves me genuinely curious about the underlying mindset behind enduring the hardships of mortal life purely in pursuit of an afterlife in paradise.

Its pretty good for what its going for I just didn't really enjoy half of it

Fantasia is a very good musical film but is less than the sum of it's parts.

Унылый визуальный ряд под классическую музыку и попытка оживить умирающую популярность Микки Мауса, а так же использовать стереозвук – всё неудачно. Уснул во время просмотра. Кому такое интересно смотреть 2(!!!) часа ХЗ.