Laughin' Place: Redefining Disney
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That's gonna be a no, sorry. The Great Mouse Detective is butterflied.
That's just how Mickey/Topolino was seen in Italy at the time.
Hopefully what I have planned will make up for its loss, then. (I'm excited for Disney's 1984 and 1985 animated features, specifically.)
Inspiration
Walt Disney's Office, Burbank, CA
September 11, 1977
Walt and Roy sat next to each other. It was all thanks to the machine in front of them that they had gotten no work done all day. Games like Air-Sea Battle, Combat, and Indy 500 had been fun, but some, like Surround, were downright addictive. The Disney brothers both loved the Atari 2600.
Walt deftly wielded the joystick, as he covered Roy's escape from all sides and his brother's "snake" slammed into his own. "Bingo!" he yelled.
"Shoot, Walt. One more game?" Roy asked.
"It's your pride I'm destroying here."
"Shut up."
Just about every building at the studio had been outfitted with an Atari. Despite the fact that they were Disney's chief competitors, Walt knew quality when he saw it and wasn't against checking out what his foes in the entertainment world had up their sleeves. "So, Walt, think we'll be getting into the home console market anytime soon?" asked Roy.
"Hell no," answered his brother.
"What? I thought you'd be all over the idea!"
"The technology just isn't there yet to do what I want to do. I want to tell stories, to immerse the player in a world unlike anything they've ever seen and let them take the lead. If all the action takes place on a single screen, then that can't be done. Breakdown and Surround aren't games--they're minigames. And as much as I'd like to make a console... I don't want to put out something I'll regret in ten years."
"That's... a good reason, I suppose. But are we really going to just let Atari and Universal rule over home consoles?"
Walt didn't say anything for a moment, concentrating on the game on the screen. "Yeah. I mean, if we can keep beating them as badly as we've been doing in the arcades, then we'll be just fine."
"Makes sense. Have you heard anything from George about what movie he's doing next?"
"He said he couldn't decide between Indiana Jones and the next part of the Star Wars trilogy. He's really leaning towards Indiana, but he wants his buddy Steven Spielberg to direct it, and Spielberg's already working on Jaws 2..."
It was Roy's turn to ruminate, as he lost yet again to Walt in the game. "Why don't they just like... co-direct it, or something? That way George can get the jump on things, and Steven can finish up Jaws and hop on a little later into filming."
Walt nodded, impressed... and slammed his line of cubes into Roy's, ending the round of Surround in an instant. "I just might suggest he do that, Roy. Anyways, you should get back to working on acquiring a license from the Italian government to build there. That seems like it might take a while."
"I probably should. This was fun, I can really see where you're coming from with wanting to make gaming big."
Walt flashed him a smile. "Brother, you ain't seen nothing yet."
October 29, 1977
"There are people who would kill to see this scene right now, you know?"
Crammed into one room together were four of the greatest and most famous musicians of all time. Separately, they were phenomenal, but together, they'd made more people twist and shout and rock out than any other band ever. John, Paul, George, and Ringo were all back in the same room for the first time since Abbey Road.
"We all know why we're here, don't we?" asked Paul. "I mean, we can't just pretend to ignore an elephant in a room as small as this one."
The Beatles were currently camped out in a hotel room in Liverpool smaller than any of their own garages. They were all there in secret, as the group didn't want all of England to sweep in on them and start asking questions about what all four of them could possibly be doing together again.
"No, we really can't," answered Ringo.
John sighed. "It's... been a while. A long while. Too long of a while, even. We've all taken different paths--"
Paul jumped in. "Started different bands--"
"And gone solo," finished George.
"But you know what?" asked John. "None of us have even had a fraction of the success that we had together. What was is Abe Lincoln said? 'United we stand, divided we fall'? Well, we've all been falling for almost a decade, now."
"Hang on--I don't think the Wings are that bad," protested Paul.
"Well, you're all certainly not us," replied Ringo. "No offense to you, though."
Paul shrugged. "I mean, the world's been asking for a reunion since we broke up. Reunions for charities, good causes, just straight-up paying us--hell, SNL offered us three thousand dollars just to come on the show."
"So you think we should get back together?" questioned George, sitting back and crossing his arms. "My own solo career's been picking up recently... dunno if I want to give it up."
"It doesn't have to be immediate... but maybe the next charity or whatever else they throw at us, we could actually perform at it. Just some classics, like 'Here Comes the Sun' or 'Hey, Jude' or something," offered John.
"But just in case we all decide to reunite for good... I have some ideas for how we can redefine ourselves," said Paul.
The legendary singer unzipped the bag at his feet and pulled out a record, displaying it to his former bandmates. A gigantic silver robot sat front and center, cradling three bloody corpses in its metallic claws. Emblazoned in scarlet on a green background were the words "News of the World."
"Isn't that the latest Queen album? I heard they're going downhill, all the kids are into punk rock these days--or Elvis, weirdly enough. They say he's on a comeback," mused George.
Paul smiled. "Just listen. This blows anything punk rock can do out of the water."
Sliding it into place on the record player, the black disc began to spin. Footsteps and handclaps echoed around the room, shaking the Beatles to their very core. There were no instruments, no synthesizers, no mixing--just raw Freddie Mercury, belting out a gut-wrenching piece.
"Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise
Playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday--"
The other Beatles looked around, all equally aware at the brilliance and excellence of the song. Paul began to tap his foot to the beat.
"You got mud on your face, you big disgrace
Kicking your can all over the place, singin'
We will, we will rock you!
We will, we will rock you!"
Ringo started getting into it, and soon, he was bouncing his feet and clapping along with the flow of the song.
"Buddy, you're a young man, hard man
Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday--"
The rest of the band followed suit, and soon the whole room rumbled with Queen's boom-boom-clap.
"You got blood on your face, you big disgrace
Waving your banner all over the place
We will, we will rock you, sing it!
We will, we will rock you, yeah!"
The four greatest and most famous musicians of all time spent the rest of their night rocking out to the rest of the album, singing along and headbanging like a pack of teenagers high on cocaine. But come the morning, they all had one thing on their minds and in their hearts: inspiration.
September 11, 1977
Walt and Roy sat next to each other. It was all thanks to the machine in front of them that they had gotten no work done all day. Games like Air-Sea Battle, Combat, and Indy 500 had been fun, but some, like Surround, were downright addictive. The Disney brothers both loved the Atari 2600.
Walt deftly wielded the joystick, as he covered Roy's escape from all sides and his brother's "snake" slammed into his own. "Bingo!" he yelled.
"Shoot, Walt. One more game?" Roy asked.
"It's your pride I'm destroying here."
"Shut up."
Just about every building at the studio had been outfitted with an Atari. Despite the fact that they were Disney's chief competitors, Walt knew quality when he saw it and wasn't against checking out what his foes in the entertainment world had up their sleeves. "So, Walt, think we'll be getting into the home console market anytime soon?" asked Roy.
"Hell no," answered his brother.
"What? I thought you'd be all over the idea!"
"The technology just isn't there yet to do what I want to do. I want to tell stories, to immerse the player in a world unlike anything they've ever seen and let them take the lead. If all the action takes place on a single screen, then that can't be done. Breakdown and Surround aren't games--they're minigames. And as much as I'd like to make a console... I don't want to put out something I'll regret in ten years."
"That's... a good reason, I suppose. But are we really going to just let Atari and Universal rule over home consoles?"
Walt didn't say anything for a moment, concentrating on the game on the screen. "Yeah. I mean, if we can keep beating them as badly as we've been doing in the arcades, then we'll be just fine."
"Makes sense. Have you heard anything from George about what movie he's doing next?"
"He said he couldn't decide between Indiana Jones and the next part of the Star Wars trilogy. He's really leaning towards Indiana, but he wants his buddy Steven Spielberg to direct it, and Spielberg's already working on Jaws 2..."
It was Roy's turn to ruminate, as he lost yet again to Walt in the game. "Why don't they just like... co-direct it, or something? That way George can get the jump on things, and Steven can finish up Jaws and hop on a little later into filming."
Walt nodded, impressed... and slammed his line of cubes into Roy's, ending the round of Surround in an instant. "I just might suggest he do that, Roy. Anyways, you should get back to working on acquiring a license from the Italian government to build there. That seems like it might take a while."
"I probably should. This was fun, I can really see where you're coming from with wanting to make gaming big."
Walt flashed him a smile. "Brother, you ain't seen nothing yet."
--------------------------------
Liverpool, England, the United Kingdom
October 29, 1977
"There are people who would kill to see this scene right now, you know?"
Crammed into one room together were four of the greatest and most famous musicians of all time. Separately, they were phenomenal, but together, they'd made more people twist and shout and rock out than any other band ever. John, Paul, George, and Ringo were all back in the same room for the first time since Abbey Road.
"We all know why we're here, don't we?" asked Paul. "I mean, we can't just pretend to ignore an elephant in a room as small as this one."
The Beatles were currently camped out in a hotel room in Liverpool smaller than any of their own garages. They were all there in secret, as the group didn't want all of England to sweep in on them and start asking questions about what all four of them could possibly be doing together again.
"No, we really can't," answered Ringo.
John sighed. "It's... been a while. A long while. Too long of a while, even. We've all taken different paths--"
Paul jumped in. "Started different bands--"
"And gone solo," finished George.
"But you know what?" asked John. "None of us have even had a fraction of the success that we had together. What was is Abe Lincoln said? 'United we stand, divided we fall'? Well, we've all been falling for almost a decade, now."
"Hang on--I don't think the Wings are that bad," protested Paul.
"Well, you're all certainly not us," replied Ringo. "No offense to you, though."
Paul shrugged. "I mean, the world's been asking for a reunion since we broke up. Reunions for charities, good causes, just straight-up paying us--hell, SNL offered us three thousand dollars just to come on the show."
"So you think we should get back together?" questioned George, sitting back and crossing his arms. "My own solo career's been picking up recently... dunno if I want to give it up."
"It doesn't have to be immediate... but maybe the next charity or whatever else they throw at us, we could actually perform at it. Just some classics, like 'Here Comes the Sun' or 'Hey, Jude' or something," offered John.
"But just in case we all decide to reunite for good... I have some ideas for how we can redefine ourselves," said Paul.
The legendary singer unzipped the bag at his feet and pulled out a record, displaying it to his former bandmates. A gigantic silver robot sat front and center, cradling three bloody corpses in its metallic claws. Emblazoned in scarlet on a green background were the words "News of the World."
"Isn't that the latest Queen album? I heard they're going downhill, all the kids are into punk rock these days--or Elvis, weirdly enough. They say he's on a comeback," mused George.
Paul smiled. "Just listen. This blows anything punk rock can do out of the water."
Sliding it into place on the record player, the black disc began to spin. Footsteps and handclaps echoed around the room, shaking the Beatles to their very core. There were no instruments, no synthesizers, no mixing--just raw Freddie Mercury, belting out a gut-wrenching piece.
"Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise
Playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday--"
The other Beatles looked around, all equally aware at the brilliance and excellence of the song. Paul began to tap his foot to the beat.
"You got mud on your face, you big disgrace
Kicking your can all over the place, singin'
We will, we will rock you!
We will, we will rock you!"
Ringo started getting into it, and soon, he was bouncing his feet and clapping along with the flow of the song.
"Buddy, you're a young man, hard man
Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday--"
The rest of the band followed suit, and soon the whole room rumbled with Queen's boom-boom-clap.
"You got blood on your face, you big disgrace
Waving your banner all over the place
We will, we will rock you, sing it!
We will, we will rock you, yeah!"
The four greatest and most famous musicians of all time spent the rest of their night rocking out to the rest of the album, singing along and headbanging like a pack of teenagers high on cocaine. But come the morning, they all had one thing on their minds and in their hearts: inspiration.
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Yeah, but then he'd just be making choose-your-own-adventure stories. The most powerful way to play at the time was the arcade cabinet, since it's a machine that is designed specifically to play that one game the best it can. So I think Disney will be sticking to the arcades, for the time being...
The question is, will it be the Atari/Sharp/Commodore/Nintendo way, with custom sound and graphics chips, or will it be the Apple/IBM/MSX/Tandy/Coleco/SEGA/Sinclair/Acorn way, with all the hardware off the shelf, and everything handled by software drivers?
And if the former, do you have any ideas on the perspective dream team?
And if the former, do you have any ideas on the perspective dream team?
I do, in fact, have some ideas for multiple "dream teams." But just who teams up is with who is a secret, at the moment. So feel free to debate...
Adventure is on the Horizon
Universal Studios Lot, Universal City, CA
December 2, 1977
George Lucas stepped onto the set of Jaws 2 with purpose. He was ready to see what his pal had cooked up to combat his own megahit Star Wars, which was still playing in theaters worldwide, despite it being over six months since the film's debut. Universal was really pushing the movie, and hoped it could replicate the first one's success at the box office and in the critical eye of reviews.
Lucas certainly was impressed by what he saw. Shooting had wrapped up long ago, but numerous props sat around the place, including the head of an animatronic shark that stared out him with cold, dead eyes. Freaky.
Finding his way through the building, Lucas eventually located Steven Spielberg, who was with a bunch of other people working to edit the movie.
"Show me the shot from the shark's POV again?" he directed.
On the screen in front of them, the scene rewound and started from the top. The camera glided through the water, occasionally glancing up at the surface.
"Alright, now the music."
John Williams' iconic score kicked in. The famed conductor had returned for Jaws 2 to pen all-new music, but the theme of the first movie, and many other tunes, had stayed the same. The camera kept on going through the water, before bursting through the surface in a cloud of sea spray as the music crescendoed... and the clip ended.
"Bravo!" Lucas lauded. "Truly a magnificent sight."
Spielberg turned, and seeing it was Lucas, waved off the other guys working with him. "Take five, you all."
"Some pretty neat stuff you've got here, Steven," said Lucas, inspecting the area. "Saw the speedboat for the final chase scene outside, looked cool."
"Dreyfuss almost crashed it," replied Spielberg, exasperated.
"Oh."
"Twice."
"...How's post-production going?"
Steven Spielberg shot his friend a nasty look. "Not good. Universal's paranoid this thing's gonna do terribly compared to Star Wars. We've cut and finished a grand total of three scenes in the amount of time it usually takes for thirty."
"Damn. You've just gotta wing it. I can't tell you how much stuff I came up with on the fly for Star Wars."
Spielberg turned to Lucas. "Why are you here, George? It's not like you to just show up at someone else's set without warning."
George Lucas looked nervous, and glanced around in the hallway before pulling his fellow director into the editing room and shutting the door. "Steven, I want to propose a movie for you."
Surprised, Spielberg furrowed his brow. "What is it?"
"It's this adventure flick I've been bouncing around in my head for a while now. You know how you've always wanted to direct a James Bond movie?"
"No way--did you get the rights or something?!"
"Er, well, no, but I think I've got something better."
Steven Spielberg frowned. "Better than Bond? I find that hard to believe."
"Hey, I just wrote and directed the most critically acclaimed movie of the decade."
"How much of that did your wife actually write, again?"
"That's... not important. Look, the point is, I think I've got something really good here. It's got this archaeologist--"
"Wait, you picked an archaeologist as the hero?"
"He's a cool archaeologist. Anyways, it's the 1930s, the Nazis are on the rise, and they're out searching for ancient treasures, like the Ark of the Covenant or the Library of Alexandria or the City of Atlantis. And this guy, Indiana Jones is his name, he goes out there and he stops 'em every time with nothing but cunning, wit, and his trusty bullwhip."
"Uh huh."
Lucas nodded frantically. "I think Harrison Ford--you know him, right?"
"Yes, I know him. Han Solo, right?"
"Yeah, I think he's perfect for the role."
Spielberg was skeptical. "I like the idea, don't know if it's better than James Bond but it's certainly good... tell you what, once I finish Jaws 2, I'll give you my verdict. Keep in mind I'm still going to be working on Close Encounters with Columbia after this."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you can fit it in--I'm thinking a 1979 release, so work that around Close Encounters."
"Sure. Just let me me finish this all for Universal, first, alright?"
"Right, right."
December 15, 1977
Twenty year-old John Lasseter whistled the tune of "its a small world" as he strode through Disneyland, ready for another day on the job. While he was attending CalArts, this was how he spent his free time and made a little extra money on the side. He was a starving college student, a fact made worse by him also going into art, of all things. Usually, he only worked here during the summer, but this year, he was strapped for cash and needed to buy some of his family and friends presents.
Nevertheless, Lasseter kept on walking along, waving to a few guests as he entered Adventureland and stepped through the door marked "Cast Members Only" by the Jungle Cruise. He quickly changed into his uniform, that of a skipper leading guests on a long, tropical tour of the wilds along the edges of the Amazon and the Congo, and headed out to the docks.
"Heya, Fritz!" he yelled, flagging down one of his fellow skippers. "Your shift's over."
"Finally!" exclaimed his pal, Fritz. "There's only so much of the back side of water that a man can take."
"I thought you liked this job?"
"Oh, yeah man, I love it. But some of the jokes do get a little stale after a while," answered Fritz, grabbing his hat from the boat and stepping off, allowing Lasseter to board. "She's all yours!"
John Lasseter stepped up to the wheel, and grinned. He sure loved his job.
"By the way, John, how'd that special lecture with Walt Disney go?"
The wannabe animator smiled at the memory. "Really well. Him coming up to CalArts was a nice surprise, and he showed us the ropes in animating something so that it tells a story. Fascinating stuff, he should really write a book."
"Sounds fun. Sorry, but I gotta run. Have a good shift, man!"
John Lasseter tipped his hat, and fired up the boat's engine, sailing off into the waters of adventure.
December 2, 1977
George Lucas stepped onto the set of Jaws 2 with purpose. He was ready to see what his pal had cooked up to combat his own megahit Star Wars, which was still playing in theaters worldwide, despite it being over six months since the film's debut. Universal was really pushing the movie, and hoped it could replicate the first one's success at the box office and in the critical eye of reviews.
Lucas certainly was impressed by what he saw. Shooting had wrapped up long ago, but numerous props sat around the place, including the head of an animatronic shark that stared out him with cold, dead eyes. Freaky.
Finding his way through the building, Lucas eventually located Steven Spielberg, who was with a bunch of other people working to edit the movie.
"Show me the shot from the shark's POV again?" he directed.
On the screen in front of them, the scene rewound and started from the top. The camera glided through the water, occasionally glancing up at the surface.
"Alright, now the music."
John Williams' iconic score kicked in. The famed conductor had returned for Jaws 2 to pen all-new music, but the theme of the first movie, and many other tunes, had stayed the same. The camera kept on going through the water, before bursting through the surface in a cloud of sea spray as the music crescendoed... and the clip ended.
"Bravo!" Lucas lauded. "Truly a magnificent sight."
Spielberg turned, and seeing it was Lucas, waved off the other guys working with him. "Take five, you all."
"Some pretty neat stuff you've got here, Steven," said Lucas, inspecting the area. "Saw the speedboat for the final chase scene outside, looked cool."
"Dreyfuss almost crashed it," replied Spielberg, exasperated.
"Oh."
"Twice."
"...How's post-production going?"
Steven Spielberg shot his friend a nasty look. "Not good. Universal's paranoid this thing's gonna do terribly compared to Star Wars. We've cut and finished a grand total of three scenes in the amount of time it usually takes for thirty."
"Damn. You've just gotta wing it. I can't tell you how much stuff I came up with on the fly for Star Wars."
Spielberg turned to Lucas. "Why are you here, George? It's not like you to just show up at someone else's set without warning."
George Lucas looked nervous, and glanced around in the hallway before pulling his fellow director into the editing room and shutting the door. "Steven, I want to propose a movie for you."
Surprised, Spielberg furrowed his brow. "What is it?"
"It's this adventure flick I've been bouncing around in my head for a while now. You know how you've always wanted to direct a James Bond movie?"
"No way--did you get the rights or something?!"
"Er, well, no, but I think I've got something better."
Steven Spielberg frowned. "Better than Bond? I find that hard to believe."
"Hey, I just wrote and directed the most critically acclaimed movie of the decade."
"How much of that did your wife actually write, again?"
"That's... not important. Look, the point is, I think I've got something really good here. It's got this archaeologist--"
"Wait, you picked an archaeologist as the hero?"
"He's a cool archaeologist. Anyways, it's the 1930s, the Nazis are on the rise, and they're out searching for ancient treasures, like the Ark of the Covenant or the Library of Alexandria or the City of Atlantis. And this guy, Indiana Jones is his name, he goes out there and he stops 'em every time with nothing but cunning, wit, and his trusty bullwhip."
"Uh huh."
Lucas nodded frantically. "I think Harrison Ford--you know him, right?"
"Yes, I know him. Han Solo, right?"
"Yeah, I think he's perfect for the role."
Spielberg was skeptical. "I like the idea, don't know if it's better than James Bond but it's certainly good... tell you what, once I finish Jaws 2, I'll give you my verdict. Keep in mind I'm still going to be working on Close Encounters with Columbia after this."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you can fit it in--I'm thinking a 1979 release, so work that around Close Encounters."
"Sure. Just let me me finish this all for Universal, first, alright?"
"Right, right."
--------------------------------
Disneyland Park, Anaheim, CA
December 15, 1977
Twenty year-old John Lasseter whistled the tune of "its a small world" as he strode through Disneyland, ready for another day on the job. While he was attending CalArts, this was how he spent his free time and made a little extra money on the side. He was a starving college student, a fact made worse by him also going into art, of all things. Usually, he only worked here during the summer, but this year, he was strapped for cash and needed to buy some of his family and friends presents.
Nevertheless, Lasseter kept on walking along, waving to a few guests as he entered Adventureland and stepped through the door marked "Cast Members Only" by the Jungle Cruise. He quickly changed into his uniform, that of a skipper leading guests on a long, tropical tour of the wilds along the edges of the Amazon and the Congo, and headed out to the docks.
"Heya, Fritz!" he yelled, flagging down one of his fellow skippers. "Your shift's over."
"Finally!" exclaimed his pal, Fritz. "There's only so much of the back side of water that a man can take."
"I thought you liked this job?"
"Oh, yeah man, I love it. But some of the jokes do get a little stale after a while," answered Fritz, grabbing his hat from the boat and stepping off, allowing Lasseter to board. "She's all yours!"
John Lasseter stepped up to the wheel, and grinned. He sure loved his job.
"By the way, John, how'd that special lecture with Walt Disney go?"
The wannabe animator smiled at the memory. "Really well. Him coming up to CalArts was a nice surprise, and he showed us the ropes in animating something so that it tells a story. Fascinating stuff, he should really write a book."
"Sounds fun. Sorry, but I gotta run. Have a good shift, man!"
John Lasseter tipped his hat, and fired up the boat's engine, sailing off into the waters of adventure.
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Well... Indy's coming around two years earlier than IOTL, and the story's going to be a bit different, and the sequels are definitely going to be very different. But no major butterflies to the franchise as a whole, so far.
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