Snap, Crackle, Pudas!
If you've perused my column in the past few months, you probably have this picture of me as a steak-eating, beer-drinking guy who only watches Chuck Norris and Sylvester Stallone movies all day. This is not so. Yes, I like steak, and I love beer, but occasionally in between chortling at the Hallmark Channel's reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger,\ I do enjoy a wide variety of films. If I made a list of my favorite 25 movies, there would be a lot of the usual suspects—""The Godfather,"" ""Pulp Fiction,"" ""Raiders of the Lost Ark""—but a couple would stick out. One such conspicuous film is Disney's ""Lady and the Tramp.""
""Lady and the Tramp"" is, to me, one of the few perfect movies in existence. It is, like ""Treasure of the Sierra Madre,"" ""Sunset Boulevard"" and ""Pinocchio,"" a lean, streamlined product of classic Hollywood cinema without a single ounce of fat. There's an elegant simplicity to the well-worn story of a pampered cocker spaniel falling in love with a flirty mutt from the wrong side of the tracks, and it unfolds in delightfully dorky '50s style.
Lady is the sophisticated dog, raised with affection by her masters, whom she refers to as Darling and Jim Dear. Spending her days frolicking around with her masters and cavorting with her best friends, Scottish terrier Jock and aging bloodhound Trusty, Lady's life is free from any sort of encumbrance. But after Darling gets knocked up, the humans start brushing Lady off for the first time, which confuses and distresses her. ""What's so great about a baby anyway?"" Lady asks her friends. They remain optimistic, but then pound-dodging Tramp ambles in and charmingly presents the pessimistic side of things. A relationship is born when Tramp offers to show Lady how to live ""footloose and fancy-free"" outside the idyllic confines of her gated community. After sharing a romantic evening of Italian food, Lady is captured and brought to the pound, where she learns of Tramp's status as a canine Don Juan. But eventually Tramp saves the baby from a rather vicious-looking rat, gets adopted by Jim Dear and Darling and everyone lives happily ever after.
The other day, I watched ""Lady and the Tramp"" again to see if I still liked it as much as I did. As a kid, I loved movies like ""Beethoven"" and ""Pete's Dragon,"" and was a little dismayed when I rewatched them years later and discovered just how badly they suck. But I am happy to report that ""Lady and the Tramp"" still holds up after all these years. It is a nostalgic reminder of a time when Disney was at the top of its game, continually putting out beautiful classics instead of gawky, lazily written dreck like ""Chicken Little."" The best Disney films, from ""Snow White and the Seven Dwarves"" to ""The Lion King,"" are about timeless tales, pleasant songs and organic humor, not fart jokes and groaningly obvious pop culture references.
Although ""Lady and the Tramp"" is essentially a colorful assortment of clichés, it nails every requirement of a classic animated movie. Lady and Tramp are immensely likable, as are the supporting characters, especially Jock, who is particularly funny when he's pissed off and shouting about something with that Scottish accent. It is a true ensemble piece, and the Italian caricatures make just as much of an impression as villainess Aunt Sarah's conniving Siamese cats. The pastels and watercolors create a gorgeous environment for the canines to roam around in, and all the various period details are spot-on. Finally, the tunes, chiefly the two sung by Peggy Lee (""He's a Tramp"" and ""We Are Siamese, If You Please""), are fun and catchy.
It also displays Disney's uncanny ability to get a viewer emotionally invested in the goings-on of non-human characters. I can't help but want to strangle that stupid Aunt Sarah bitch when she keeps blaming Lady for mischief her cats were responsible for. Also, the subtlety in how Jim Dear and Darling gradually neglect Lady is extremely skillful, portraying the universal pain of getting abandoned even more effectively than the similar themes in more contemporary Disney fare like the ""Toy Story"" movies.
I also love how closely the dogs' courtship mirrors how men and women interact (at one point, Lady even gives Tramp the silent treatment). ""Lady and the Tramp"" is fluff entertainment, but that's the point, and it is as sweet and enchanting as it was 50 years ago. If you haven't seen it, check it out at least for its most famous scene, the perfect ""Bella Notte"" in which Lady and Tramp share a plate of spaghetti. That is the most lovely, romantic scene in the history of cinema. And now that I've written that, I think it's time to cook up a steak, crack open a brewski and pop in ""Rambo.""
E-mail Joe at japudas@wisc.edu.\
