Throughout my childhood, films were "magic carpets" which transported me to distant lands, past centuries, and human experiences almost (not quite) too good or too bad to be true. However, I knew that the murders, plane crashes, train wrecks, buildings ablaze, earthquakes, and attacks by Apaches - albeit exciting -- were not "real." One exception: Disney's animated feature films: they touched my young heart in ways and to an extent no other films did.
Decades later, I still vividly recall how upset I was by separations of "children" from their parents (e.g. Dumbo from his mother, Pinocchio from Gepetto) and especially upset when Bambi eagerly awaited the return of his mother from the meadow, and when the seven dwarfs incorrectly assumed (as did I) that Snow White was dead. With all due respect to brilliant musical scores (I saved up from what my paper routes earned to purchase most of the sound track albums) and to the delightful and wholesome humor of characters such as Thumper and the chorus of crows reacting to a flying elephant, there were always darker themes and ominous elements at work in a series of animated feature films.
Now having read Neil Gabler's book which will probably be the definitive biography of Walt Disney, at least for a while, I have a much better understanding of the creative genius who deserves and has received primary credit for the "magic" to be found in so many of the films and to be experienced while visiting the theme parks. I also have a much better understanding of the tormented man whose emotional complexity and ambiguity are reflected in so many of his animated feature films.
There is a scene in another of my favorite films, "The Wizard of Oz," when Toto pulls a curtain back, exposing an obviously embarrassed fraud rather than an authentic wizard. As I worked my way through Gabler's book, I frequently recalled that scene. But there is a significant difference: L. Frank Baum's wizard created no magic whatsoever whereas Walter Elias Disney did in collaboration with hundreds of associates, creating incomparable magic in dozens of feature and documentary films as well as in long-running television programs.
Now a grandfather of ten, I am pleased and reassured that at least the younger ones among them enjoy the Disney "magic" as much as I once did...and still do. Our troubled world seems to need it at least as much today as it did more than 50 years ago when the Great Depression gave way to World War II. Perhaps it needs the Disney magic even more now. In my opinion, that will continue to be Walt Disney's heritage but only so long as the human heart is open to it and is nourished by it.