Where True-Life Was Made To Pay

Going To Disney's Nature School and Liking It

Nature was mostly served raw before Walt Disney made it a profit center with his True-Life documentaries. In fact, WD took the onus of education off nature shorts (later features) by making each irresistibly entertaining. Most called them breathtaking for keyhole view of private animal life. It was for Disney to make informative content pay, luring admission for what schools had been force-feeding. Yes, there were "nature" subjects before, most aimed at exploiting wildlife for shock or sensation. What were folks going to movies for, after all? It didn't occur to most that straight recount of creature habits might engage. Exploration themes had clicked, like Chang, Byrd at the Pole, and others such, but four-footed friends cycling at life was beyond what even Hollywood-trained magicians of the camera could capture, that is, until Disney got his revolutionary idea and commissioned outsiders to execute it.

First off, he'd shun the human element. Nix on native women hauled off by gorillas, or Killers Of The Sea making meals of frogmen. Walt wanted animals to speak for themselves, so put stringers in far-flung fields to document habits ... survival, mating, feeding, and otherwise ... from which best of the best, as in millions of feet perused, would be shaved to half-hour or so length. Camera/nature bugs Alfred and Elma Milotte shot miles of footage on Alaska (frozen) soil using 16mm Kodachrome, Seal Island the boiled-down result of effort that took a year. Disney sunk "some $75,000" (Variety) into the finished 27 minutes, from which he refused to cut an inch despite RKO entreaty that his long short was, for booking purposes, neither fish nor fowl, completion-date of 1948 being also one that favored double-features, as in features, not hybrids.

Disney had qualified Seal Island for Academy consideration by getting a late '48 LA date and thus sealing bid for a Best Short Subject Oscar. That came off with the expected win, and though RKO still sought cuts, they'd give in to Walt's determination that there would be none. Disney seals migrated to venues summer-booking a Disney reissued pair, Dumbo and Saludos, Amigos, the program "designed to lure vacationing moppets into theatres," said Variety. Seal Island was a hit to modest extent that any three-reeler could be, but confidence was such that Disney announced it as first of a series of True-Lifes, their next, The Amazing Beaver, already in progress on northern Idaho location. Speculation was that Walt was really doing these things for television, being that Seal's 27 minutes was ideal for a half-hour programming slot. Disney had, after all, intimated willingness to embrace the tube. Meanwhile, Seal Island was racking up further awards and making Walt a friend to school teachers nationwide.

As to brilliance at marketing, 1950 was where Disney's outfit really came into its own after a years-long slump. Cinderella was out of the gate for an animated feature comeback, and an all-live actioner, Treasure Island, cooked with frozen funds thawed in England, was ready for summer release. Walt sent invites to camera hobbyists for sneak glimpse of his next True-Life, now named Beaver Valley. This was by small way of how Disney made outreach to patron corners his competition ignored. Amateur photographers were no inconsequential niche, but a force thousands-strong and connected by lines of communication strong enough to swell lines for whatever Disney produced that interested membership (The Amateur Cinema League, Inc. had a monthly magazine that Walt Disney followed). These camera buffs raved over True-Life, calling WD a visionary for putting nature photography front/center for mass appeal, and giving reps of the amateur army, Alfred and Elma Milottes, opportunity to see their work displayed before millions.

A biggest so-far pay-off came with Beaver Valley. WD sales force had formulated an "All Disney" program policy that would serve variety to all ages, a three-pronged approach with Beaver Valley and a fresh cartoon served as appetizers to the main course that was Treasure Island. Ads cried, Don't Send The Kids --- Bring Them! Thus was born truest concept of Disney as "Real Family Entertainment." Beaver Valley got the expected raves, Variety calling it a "wonderment," and "one of the novel film highlights of the year." Heads-in-sand RKO still had doubt of Beaver Valley pulling weight as a so-called second feature, and tried pairing it with mis-mates Joan Of Arc, Our Very Own, and others off the company's release chart. Best results, however, were obtained with the pure Disney mix, although Beaver Valley also sat well in offbeat berths like Cleveland's Tele-News, a 500 seat newsreel house that used Disney beavers to buttress bulletins off baseball fields and out of Korea.

An incidental boost for Beaver Valley, but a meaningful one, was the hit Christmas song, since a standard, that emerged from Paul J. Smith's lively score for the nature short. Variety had lauded Smith for the "brilliant undertaking" that "materially" enhanced Beaver Valley, and indeed, it's hard imagining the True-Lifes without his accompany. One segment, "The Frog Symphony," was noted in particular, and from that came lyrics and further arrangement by Don Raye, whose idea it was to lay Christmas wreath upon nature's canvas. Result was Jing-a-Ling, Jing-a-Ling, which was promptly issued as sheet music, and recorded by the Andrews Sisters, Tommy Tucker and his Orchestra, many others (this You Tube link should ring a bell).

The ongoing success that was True-Life Adventures would enhance Disney programs ahead, and in fact, came to at least partial rescue of occasional clucks like 1951's Alice In Wonderland, the next feature to get a True-Life infusion in theatres (Nature's Half-Acre). When the whole show was good, as with Peter Pan in 1953, the animal acts were like icing on a rich cake, Bear Country a bonus that made grown-ups glad they'd taken Junior to the cartoon. True-Lifes would graduate to feature-length in 10/53 with The Living Desert, and incidentally become mainstays of the Disney non-theatrical market, 16mm prints renting from a 1954 launch to eager schools and elsewhere that paid $10 for a day's use of Seal Island, Beaver Valley, and others from the shorts list. Price would triple by late-70's juncture, the True-Lifes becoming evergreen as backgrounds they celebrated. All are gathered since as four DVD sets from Disney, and highly recommended.