It took them five years to come out of the woods with "Bambi," and the wonder is that they came out at all. For Bambi's forest ranks with Shangri-la and the other hidden paradises of this sad world; having found the place, the wonder is that the Disney Studios didn't move to it lock, stock and barrel and disappear forever and live happily ever after.
"Bambi" is pure Disney. There's not a Prince or a Witch, not even a Dwarf on the scene; the male animal is put in his proper place — in the audience. And from your seat in the theater you can look enviously on a world delightful, natural and real as only Disney can create. If, before the final fadeout, you find yourself wishing you were born a deer, a rabbit or even a skunk, that's only fair tribute to the Disney magic.
There used to be a rhyme about what little girls are made of; they were made, it said, of sugar and spice and everything nice. But the little girls will have to take a back seat now that Disney's here. "Bambi" is made of trees and flowers, birds and meadows, the sun in the morning and the moon at night. It's made of snow and rain, clover and grass. That's what "Bambi's" made of.
Does it sound dull? Ah, you don't know Disney. For there isn't a moment of it that doesn't charm the eye and soothe the ear. It's full of Disney's daily miracles of small details; a daisy from Disney's hand will make you forget Lana Turner; a twist of the brush is good for a belly laugh worthy of Chaplin himself. Dull? They evolved eyes back in the days when the world was still evoluting, because someone had a suspicion Disney was coming.
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