THE ARISTOCATS. The Well-shaped Formula Works Again

Although The Aristocats (1970) is not the first animated film that comes to mind when one thinks of Walt Disney, it seems to be one of the most — if not the most — representative works of the studio’s entire filmography. It concentrates, like a lens, nearly all the themes, motifs, problems, ideas, and character types that appeared in earlier productions. On one hand, this gives the impression of a mechanically assembled film — a construction made from well-known and time-tested elements. On the other hand, despite its undeniable repetitiveness, the well-shaped formula works once again, successfully maintaining the film’s magical Disney aura. I am convinced that without that magic, The Aristocats, 55 years after its premiere, would not still enjoy its status as a classic.

On a broad narrative level, The Aristocats repeats One Hundred and One Dalmatians with a fair dose of Lady and the Tramp. Adelaide, an elderly, wealthy lady living in a luxurious Parisian villa, invites her lawyer to draw up her will. Since Adelaide has no close family, she decides to leave her entire fortune to her beloved cats: Duchess and her three kittens — Berlioz, Marie, and Toulouse.

The animals will live under the care of her long-time butler, Edgar. Upon the death of the last cat, the inheritance will pass to him. Nearing sixty, Edgar seems to have reason to rejoice — but only at first glance. He quickly calculates his odds of living long enough to benefit from Adelaide’s wealth and realizes they are slim. So that very evening, he takes the cats far beyond the borders of Paris. The animals are as helpless as they are desperate to return home. One Hundred and One Dalmatians transforms before our eyes into four cats.

Duchess, utterly unprepared for such extreme conditions — far from her mistress, her warm bed, and her bowl full of food — and burdened with three mischievous kittens, seems doomed to an early death. Only a stroke of luck or a coincidence could save her. Of course, Disney never accustomed us to tragic endings. The studio’s animated characters are always under the watchful care of Providence, and a happy ending is never far from sight. This time is no different: the helpless house pets encounter a free-spirited alley cat, Thomas O’Malley.

He becomes involved and helps Duchess return home safely. In the process, he gradually wins the affection of the refined feline. As their affection grows, the two cats learn from each other, confronting their differing values and teaching one another life lessons. Thomas O’Malley and Duchess represent two completely different worlds — and two completely different outlooks on life: The Aristocats, or The Lady and the Alley Cat.

In The Aristocats, the creators explore the social ladder, class tensions, and even internal class differences. These appear both in the human world and the animal world. The most striking example, of course, is Edgar, who has no scruples about turning his position as a servant into that of a magnate. It takes just one decision for the faithful butler to transform into a criminal — he has repressed his jealousy and greed for too long. Thomas O’Malley faces a similar situation, yet the luxurious lifestyle of Duchess leaves him unimpressed. As their journey nears its end, the reward awaiting him becomes increasingly clear — but it is certainly not a material one.

One might also compare Adelaide and Duchess. The former has lived her entire life in solitude, never having the chance to start a family or find emotional fulfillment, isolated from the world by the walls of her mansion. The filmmakers subtly suggest that she may once have shared a deeper bond with her visiting lawyer, but neither of them ever acted on it. All that remains is a memory of a perhaps slightly more-than-friendly dance from years ago. Duchess would likely have ended up much the same as her owner were it not for her chance meeting with Thomas. He opens her eyes to entirely new experiences and awakens previously unknown desires.

Yes, all of this consists of truisms, clichés, and formulaic situations. Yet in The Aristocats, their didactic, moral character is strongly felt. The creators employ harmless, humorous stereotypes (such as the scene with the country geese), use specific character archetypes and fairy-tale patterns of behavior, and set them in contrast with one another. In The Aristocats, there is neither time nor space for nuance or moral ambiguity — one must clearly define what is good and what is bad.

The finest sequence in the entire film comes when Thomas takes Duchess to meet his feline friends living in a rundown house on the outskirts of Paris. It is then that this otherwise well-behaved and predictable production bursts with energy and visual identity. The previously muted color palette brightens dramatically (even recalling Dumbo’s dream sequence), the editing quickens, and the musical arrangement — combining jazz improvisation (performed by O’Malley’s friends) with classical, operatic tones (Duchess on the harp) — makes a truly powerful impression.

In no other scene does the unity of classes, manners, and lifestyles resonate with such force. Deep down, we are all the same cats, after all. It may be an idyllic vision far removed from reality — but one must appreciate the creative zeal with which Walt Disney sought to make us believe in it.