Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

The first feature-length animated film in history, "Snow White" is a testimony to Walt's deep commitment to taking whatever existed and making it better. When he first proposed creating a cartoon that would run for more than just a few minutes, critics and nay-sayers abounded. "It'll blind the audience," said some. "Nobody will watch a cartoon that's so long," said others. They dubbed it Disney's Folly. But Walt persisted, risking the financial future of his studio on the project. And of course the success was complete. "Snow White" premiered on December 21, 1937, and provided a financial bonanza for the Disney organization. It was originally budgeted for $250,000, wound up costing $1.75 million, and brought in about $4.2 million in its first release. Perhaps more important, it proved that animation could be used not just to amuse but to provoke a far wider range of emotions. Viewers witnessing the "death" scene of Snow White -- shown above -- were moved to tears.

A princess of noble birth, Snow White is forced into rags as a scullery maid by her jealous stepmother, the Queen. Blessed with an innocent's indomitable spirit, the fair maiden never loses faith that one day the wishing well will grant her wish for a true love to come and take her away. When her dream is answered by a serenading young prince, the evil Queen orders Snow White killed. Faced with the girl's innocence, the huntsman assassin can't kill her, and begs her to flee deep into the forest, never to return. Once again her innocence saves her as the forest animals lead her to the Seven Dwarfs' cottage, where she takes the role of their adopted mother (even the woman-wary Grumpy can't help but warm to her eventually). The Queen, however, will use the girl's naiveté against her as she dons the guise of a helpless peddler hag to lure Snow White into taking a bite from a poisoned apple. Falling into a sleeping death, Snow White can only be awakened by love's first kiss.

No, Sneezy doesn't sneeze all the time ... just at the worst of times, like when the dwarfs have returned from the diamond mine to search for the mysterious "cleaning monster" in their midst. After a particularly violent sneeze, which sends them tumbling in its wake, he protests,"I couldn't help it ... when you gotta go, you gotta ... I-I-I, i-i-i-it's comin'." So his pals quickly jump him and tie his nose in a knot. Instead of getting angry, poor Sneezy's grateful. He's just as annoyed by his condition as the other dwarfs. But when all is said and done, his fellows are quick and happy to lend him a sneeze-stifling hand. It's all part of being a dwarf. Just keep Sneezy away from the goldenrod ...

Sleepy sneaks in his Z's anytime and anywhere he can, but none of the other dwarfs ever complains. Maybe that's because he works just as hard in their diamond mine as the others, albeit in a more relaxed fashion. In fact, he's so relaxed, and yawns so widely, that the resident housefly keeps buzzing into his mouth in hopes of finding a nice warm home. But even on the perpetual verge of a nap, Sleepy turns out to be twice as observant as his fellows when it most matters. Strangely goaded and prodded by the forest animals outside their mine, none of the dwarfs can figure out what's going on until Sleepy yawns, "Maybe the old Queen's got Snow White." Thanks to Sleepy, the dwarfs are soon off to the rescue.

Without Happy around, Grumpy might not be quite as grumpy. For Happy's just too infernally cheerful about everything. When the dwarfs think there's a monster hidden under the blankets, Happy cheerily asks, "Which end do we kill?" And when the "monster" turns out to be a slumbering Snow White, Happy's even happier. But not even he can find any joy in his life after Snow White's bitten into the Witch's apple and fallen into a sleeping death. With any luck he'll get to live up to his name again someday ...

No matter what anyone says, Grumpy is against it. This know-it-all naysayer has the disposition of an old boot: tough, craggy, and resistant to anything. When the dwarfs first find Snow White lying asleep across their beds, Grumpy gripes, "Angel, huh? She's female, an' all females is poison! They're full o' wicked wiles." When Bashful asks, "What're wicked wiles?" Grumpy admits, "I don't know, but I'm agin 'em." Like many an old boot, however, this one's really a softy inside. When Snow White kisses him on the forehead despite his complaints, he even smiles for a moment before regaining his mal-composure. Could it be that Grumpy may be grumpy partially to see who cares enough to put up with him? Whatever its source, his stubborn determination eventually proves invaluable. When the forest animals warn of trouble so dire that even his bossy rival, Doc, stammers, "What do we do?" it's Grumpy who leads the charge to save Snow White from the Wicked Queen.

Dubbed "Dopey" by his brothers, this loose-limbed dwarf has never spoken a word; as Happy explains to Snow White, "He never tried." But Dopey isn't really dopey, he's just childlike. Is it dopey to try and steal a second and third kiss from Snow White on your way to work, or to make yourself tall enough to dance with her by climbing on Sneezy's shoulders? Not at all. Dopey's a genius at fun and games (and a whiz at the drums to boot). He just doesn't mind looking silly along the way. So what if he wiggles his ears and shuffles his feet to his own skippity-skip beat? He's simply being himself, and that's pretty smart.

If the Seven Dwarfs have a leader, it has to be Doc (though he's far too good-natured to ever make it official). When there's an important decision to be made, Doc is usually the one to make it. After returning to the cottage to find it mysteriously tidied up, he nervously demands: "Search every cook an' nanny, uh, hook an' granny, uh, crooked fan -- uh, search everywhere." Doc's mind often works faster than his mouth when he's excited, but his judgment's always sound. Doc takes it upon himself to convince his fellows that the hardships they must endure in allowing Snow White to stay are worth it -- even that strange custom of washing up. And only he knows how to get that "old warthog" Grumpy into the wash trough.

More than shy, Bashful's a hopeless (make that hopeful) sentimentalist. When the dwarfs return to find their cottage mysteriously tidied up, he's even sentimental about his newly cleaned cup, lamenting that "the sugar's gone" as if he'd lost a dear friend. While everyone's suspicious upon finding Snow White asleep across their beds, Bashful's the first one to see her for who she really is, observing, "She's beautiful, like an angel." Indeed, Bashful can't help but blush, twist his beard into knots, and bat his eyelashes whenever Snow White's around. And when the dwarfs ask her to tell them a story, Bashful, of course, requests "a looove story." To his delight, that's exactly what they get.