Top Ten 2-D Animation Films

Published on December 17, 2009 by Edward Whitfield · View Comments

top ten 2-d Disney’s The Princess and the Frog (see Alex’s review here ) heralds a return to the 2D hand drawn animation of yesteryear.

To celebrate the revival of an old art form we’re offering ten of the finest traditional animations for your delectation. This list represents our personal favourites so don’t be upset if your own doesn’t appear or go ahead and be upset, just keep it to yourself.

What are you favourite 2-D animations? Leave us a comment, suggestion, etc.

The Emperor’s New Groove (Mark Dindal, 2000)

groove

A spoilt Emperor plans to bulldoze a village and replace it with a water park. He’s then transformed into a llama and gets to spend some time with the subjects he plans to displace in this neglected gem from 2000. Pixar’s success had put a ball and chain around Disney’s early nineties revival and dropped it down a well. With paint and photochemical cell stocks at an all time low, many missed the film that opened Disney’s decade. Eschewing the characteristic sentimentality that seemed twee in comparison to the more knowing and, sigh, postmodern humour of the CG new wave (as no one called it at all), New Groove is a more wry effort for Disney, fielding smart one liners and a healthy dollop of slapstick which recalls Tex Avery and the heyday of Warner Brothers. And blessed be, no songs! It’s smart and funny – what more do you want for God’s sake?

The best bit: Villianess Yzma (Eartha Kitt) is transformed into a kitten in mid-cackle in the movie’s climatic showdown. Cackling kittens are hilarious whichever way you look at it.

Robin Hood (Wolfgang Reitherman, 1973)

robin hood

Forget Flynn, forget Costner, no really, forget Costner; for many of us there is only one true Hood and he’s just as likely to kill your cats and keep you awake all night by humping with a blood curdling shriek as robbing the rich. “Meet Robin Hood and his MERRY MENagerie!” trumpeted those warped geniuses in Disney’s marketing department as Robin and Marion were recast as Fox and Vixen with many more Noah’s Ark refugees in support. The cynical amongst you will point to the cut price look of the animation which unintentionally became of the signature style of much 70’s Disney thanks to budget cutting. You may also say “why does a cartoon set in 12th century England feature songs by Honky Tonk Man Roger Miller? Did Medieval Britons invent country music?” To which I say, perhaps it’s better if I ask the questions from now on. Still, there’s much to love about Disney’s Hood – Peter Ustinov’s Prince John is a comic delight, there’s great set-pieces, not least the Archery Tournament and the escape from Nottingham’s gaol and yes, those songs. Historically dubious perhaps (though evidence also suggests Robin was human), but they give the movie a wholesome, feel good charm. Oo-de-lally indeed!

The best bit: Lady Kluck invents American football as she buttresses her way through a field of Nottingham’s henchman. That sound you can hear is a thousand historians snapping their pencils in unison.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (David Hand, et all, 1937)

snow white

Remember when a girl could live with seven men and no one batted an eyelid? No, me neither. The world’s first animated feature is also one of the best. Helmed, somewhat appropriately by David Hand, supervising no less than 5 other directors, White set the template that endures to this day; the disneyfication of a fairytale, a catchy tune, full colour – you know the sort of thing. In the era of Mo-Cap, it’d be easy to underestimate the craft that went into capturing realistic movement and making each hand drawn protagonist appear lifelike enough to suspend disbelief. When you watch Snow White you’re watching the ultimate student film – a group of young bucks bringing their artistry to bear on what was essentially an experimental canvas. When I was a student I made a film about an orange that grew a pair of lips. Makes you think.

The best bit: Well for me it’s the poison apple. Sorry, that’s the kind of guy I am.

One Hundred and One Dalmatians (Wolfgang Reitherman, Clyde Geronimi, Hamilton Luske, 1961)

dalmations

“Cruella De Vil, Cruella De Vil, if she doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will!” That’s an introduction to die for and Disney’s spotty dog story doesn’t disappoint, providing one of Uncle Walt’s most memorable villainesses. I’m not a dog lover, in fact I can’t think of a single reason to own a loud, unhygienic, violent and human dependant animal when you can have a cat instead. Be that as it may, and considering I’d rather eat them than walk them, it’s hard not to feel for the puppies that De Vil eyes for leisure wear. There’s something fundamentally honest about the way Roger and Anita, bless ‘em, are brought together by their love of the hound. Okay, they’re probably a substitute for kids which suggests they’d prefer to pour their attentions into something docile and unconditionally affectionate than a burdensome human but it all makes for a life affirming spectacle. The look of the film, that slightly sketchy, less detailed look, is attributable to budget cuts at the studio and a money saving change to the print production process. Not the best looking Disney then but certainly one of the sweetest.

The best bit: “She’s like a spider waiting for the kill!”

The Rescuers (Wolfgang Reitherman, John Lounsbery, Art Stevens, 1977)

res

Child abduction may not seem like the most Disney-friendly of topics but never let it be said that the old man’s name is just a synonym for mawkish confections. Sometimes the house of mouse tackles the issues. A little girl, Penny be thy name, is trapped and sends out an S.O.S which is intercepted by a band of mice who specialise in, well – guess. Eva Gabor’s Miss Bianca brings a degree of sexiness to the world of mice and then there’s poor fellow mouse Bernard who doesn’t stand a chance because, lets face it, she’s out his league. Considered by many a return to form after an early seventies lull (Robin Hood not withstanding), the Rescuers is a more substantial film than Disney had made for quite a while. It’s hard to hate, not to mention a movie that saved a life. When my flat was overrun with mice a few years ago, the only thing that prevented me buttressing them to death with the end of a tennis racket and sending to them to my landlord in the post was the thought of Miss Bianca getting into a hot bath.

The best bit: The scene in which Miss Bianca and Bernard are flying on Orville’s back through New York. Pause your old VHS copy at the right moment and you might catch the image of a topless woman standing by a window. The image appears in just two frames but what a couple of frames!

The Secret of NIMH (Don Bluth, 1982)

nimh

On oft-forgotten but highly enjoyable story of mouse and rat cooperation that is rather dark and suffused with all sort of mercurial magical gubbins. Bluth’s debut feature – he’d go on to direct An American Tale amongst others, is bleaker than most but great fun for the child looking for a touch of the nasty in their entertainment. In the story of mice who seek help from the feared rats when their home is threatened with destruction, there’s a neat sub-plot about intelligent vermin trying to break away from human dependency and it’s all tied together with a lot of nervous energy. A lost gem worth rediscovering.

The best bit: Behold the magical amulet!

The Wind in the Willows (Chris Taylor, Mark Hall, 1983)

wind

Not strictly 2D this, but a stop-motion delight from Cosgrove Hall productions and one of the highlights of my childhood Christmas viewing. Kenneth’s Grahame’s story of the hubristic Toad of Toad Hall (given wonderful voice by David Jason), Badger, Ratty, Mole and all the other Beatles is a long summer evening and country pub world of boat trips, country mansions and having more money than sense with a nice dollop of Edwardian satire spread on top. For residents of Richmond it’s virtually a documentary, for the rest of us, a middle class joy. There are many versions but the 1983 film, which spawned a subsequent series, has a grace and charm of its own. If you have children and you don’t show this to them when they’re young, you’re technically guilty of abuse.

The best bit: Toad’s caravan is overturned by a one of those new motor car whatsits and he’s smitten. Poop and indeed, poop.

Starchaser: The Legend of Orin (Stephen Hahn, 1985)

starchaser

Technically a cheat because it was originally released in 3D, Starchaser deserves its place for being such an easy going slab of childhood entertainment. It is, to put it kindly, influenced by Star Wars, but is none the worse for that. Big themes are the order of the day here; enslavement, false idols, destiny and all the trimmings. Despite the, er, superficial similarities to Lucas’ space opus, it is a darker adventure than the beard envisioned. Princess Leia was never strangled to death in A New Hope but the lovely Elan isn’t so lucky. There are zombie robots, mild swearing heroes and whisper it quietly, some sexy curves on display. If this were live action it’d be on the top shelf. Incidentally, I tried to build a lego Starchaser once. I failed.

The best bit: Mine world’s brutality is laid bear as an old man gets a laser whip across the eyeballs. Arthur Scargill never had to deal with anything like that.

When the Wind Blows (Jimmy Murakami, 1986)

blows

It was 1986 and in the final furlong of the cold war British Children were being treated to an education of what was at stake courtesy of Raymond Brigg’s heart breaking story of an elderly couple who survive a soviet attack on Britain. It’s a very British story – low-key, sombre and rather dignified. You’d have to have a heart made of graphite not to feel the pinch as Jim and Hilda Bloggs struggle to survive in the aftermath and slowly, and in character with Brigg’s The Snowman, quietly, succumb to radiation poisoning from the fallout. Their understandable ignorance of nuclear physics plus the loneliness of their plight makes for a very touching spectacle indeed. Hard to watch but absolutely essential.

The best bit: The end – you’ll be relieved and crying your eyes out.

The Snowman (Dianne Jackson, 1982)

snowman

The IRN BRU parody might be funnier but there’s little to touch Brigg’s perennial favourite charting one boy’s trip to the North Pole in the hands of a dry iced leviathan with the power of flight. The pedants amongst you will already be murmuring that it’s a short and not a feature to which my riposte would be ‘when you’re writing the articles you can decide what goes on the list’. It’s a peerless piece of animation and living version of the pastel illustrations of Brigg’s source book, given real emotional oomph by Howard Blake’s score. Once the boy takes to the skies with ‘Walking in the Air’ wrapping itself around your ears like sonic silk – yes sonic silk, its enough to make Ebenezer Scrooge feel Christmassy on the day Elizabeth walked out the door. Well, maybe not him. The ending will destroy you but when it comes to a universal, heart warming story there’s little to touch this.

The best bit: “We’re walking in the aiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”