The Film
Ask a dozen Disney devotees when the so-called company Renaissance ended and you’re likely to get close to a dozen different answers. Was “The Lion King” (1994) the last of the masterpieces in that short-lived but creatively fertile period, or was it perhaps the aesthetically pleasing “Pocahontas” (1995)? Some, and I think their numbers are growing, have come to appreciate the much unfairly maligned “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” (1996) for its dark, depressive, and very un-Disney dénouement. Others, although I can’t imagine whom, might pick “Hercules” (1997), which I admit is good fun, but pretty far from the truly fantastic films of the early 90's. Personally, I think the Renaissance’s last truly exceptional film is the masterful, water-color inspired, gender-role-bending “Mulan” (1998). But that’s mostly because I’ll take an epically orchestrated Jerry Goldsmith score over Phil Collins’ one song soundtrack from “Tarzan” (1999) any day of the week, month, year, or rest of my life. Most will agree—although I’m sure even here there are a few frantic fans who think otherwise—Disney’s Renaissance came to a swift end with the arrival of the millennium, and the disappointing “Dinosaur” (2000), a CG dud that promisingly began life as a stark and violent silent (or at least dialogue-less) feature in the hands of one Paul Verhoeven (yes, that Paul Verhoeven), but was eventually focus-grouped into the epitome of Michael Eisner-era dullness. The films immediately following “Dinosaur” faced similar setbacks, and as each project finally surfaced it too was something far different than originally intended. Arguably these post-renaissance, debatably mistreated misfires are even more interesting than the successful string of features to precede them, if only because each is a curious case of “what if”, and “could’ve been”. I’m not saying “The Emperor’s New Groove” (2000), “Atlantis: The Lost Empire” (2001) or “Lilo & Stitch” (2002) are better movies than “The Little Mermaid” (1989) or “Beauty and the Beast” (1991) or anything—even “Hercules”—done during the Renaissance. I wouldn’t dream of even thinking, let alone writing that. But each one has an intriguing back-story, full of errors and ego-ism, and at least one sordid sequel, which taken together perfectly spells out everything wrong with the House of Mouse during the latter Eisner-era, and why the traditional animation division essentially imploded. It’s precisely because of the failings, and few successes, that I find the period fascinating. That three of the films from the period (with sequels in tow) arrive on Blu-ray at the same time in similarly problematic packages is appropriate. Long ago, somewhere deep in the jungle… So begins director Mark Dindal’s “The Emperor’s New Groove”—a sort of riff on the classic Hans Christian Andersen short story “The Emperor’s New Clothes”. Well, no, it’s not really related to the folkloric fable for children. Aside from the playful pun in title and sharing a similarly vain kingly titular character, Dindal’s story of an Incan lord turned into a llama has little to do with the Dutchman’s tale of a nude nobleman. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s take a cue form “Groove’s” protagonist, Emperor Kuzco (voiced by David Spade), and rewind the story a bit. The year is 1994 and writer/director Roger Allers is coming off the smash success of Disney’s most profitable film in more than 30 years, “The Lion King” (1994). Allers immediately capitalizes on his current “golden boy” image within the company, and pitches an idea: Mark Twain’s “The Prince and the Pauper” done in the style of a grand, romantic, musical epic—to be scored by Sting—called “Kingdom of the Sun”. The film would tell the tale of a selfish young emperor who finds a look-alike peasant and plans to have the commoner do his day-to-day decision making, because the emperor is a lazy good-for-nothing and would rather… do nothing. Meanwhile, a sorceress prays to Supay, the Incan god of death, wanting the demon to steal the sun and cast the empire in eternal darkness. Soon realizing that the emperor has planted a look-alike, the witchy woman turns the real emperor into a llama, banishes him, and blackmails his replacement into acting as her puppet. Amongst the people of his kingdom for the first time—albeit in llama form—the emperor learns humility, and even falls for a female farmer. Together, the emperor and his llama-loving gal attempt to expose the villainous sorceress and her look-alike lackey, and, as they say, the rest is... not history, because that film never got made. Over the course of its six-year production cycle, “Kingdom in the Sun” slowly—then very very quickly—spiraled out of control, a fact that is well documented in the little seen, basically banned documentary “The Sweatbox” (2002), which was directed by Trudie Styler, Sting’s wife, who joined the process when Sting did, and was given unrestricted access to the entire production, from story meetings to scoring sessions and beyond. (With the rights retained by Disney, the documentary has never officially been released on video, and was only shown in one theatre in Los Angeles and another in Florida for one week in an unadvertised engagement in 2002 because of a contractual obligation. It was briefly leaked online last year, which is how I saw it. It is a fascinating film). “Kingdom” fell apart because 90's-era-Disney boss Michael Eisner and the other studio executives’ initial hands off approach—Allers promised them another “Lion King”, and he knew what he was doing, so why would they interfere—gave way to a much more hands on one after a series of disastrous test screenings. Eisner, et al came down hard on Allers, with a mountain of story suggestions, most of which he simply ignored—in part because the notes and hints he did heed would lead to additional notes on those notes. Ultimately, Disney brought in Mark Dindal to co-write/direct the film, hoping that he would help them shape it into a more family friendly comedy. As Dindal went about making the film funnier, Allers continued down a more dramatic-based, serious path with the belief he was making a masterpiece. Eventually, as the release date neared and most of the film was still in shambles, things completely collapsed, with Allers walking away and “Kingdom in the Sun” getting shut down for months. When a small portion of the original team regrouped, under the sole directorship of Dindal, bringing with him his own crew, scraps of the original “Kingdom” concept were worked into the more comedic screenplay Dindal had partway completed—a screenplay which the studio found to be much more audience (and profit) friendly. The title was changed to “The Emperor’s New Groove” and the musical epic became a simple buddy comedy that had barely any music at all. Would “Kingdom in the Sun” have been the masterpiece its original writer/director intended? Ask the original animators and most of the other crew not steadfastly loyal to Dindal, and the Disney brass of the Eisner-era, and they insist, yes. But it never came to be, so those of us not in the know can’t say either way. One thing’s for sure though, I think the story behind how “Kingdom” became “Groove” is far more interesting than the resulting film. “Groove” was a moderate financial success—one of the only Disney films of the era to turn a profit in its theatrical window, accounting for overseas box office. It has also become somewhat of a cult classic, with fans that insist the film is perhaps the funniest the Walt Disney Company ever produced. Me? I’ve never warmed to it. Disney’s made worse movies, without question. But “Groove” is far from even the greatest light comedy they’ve ever animated. A testament to Eisner’s mismanagement, even the regrouped “Emperor’s New Groove” had problems, and, watching the finished product, you can sort of tell it was a troubled production. The resulting plot is surprisingly coherent, considering it’s a piecemeal offering of a half dozen aborted rewrites. Kept from the “Kingdom” pitch was the selfish emperor who learns a little humility, now turned into the immature 18-year-old Kuzco; the witch became Yzma (voiced by Eartha Kitt), the emperor’s evil advisor who wants the throne for herself; the llama element remained, although now the llama talked. A lot. The look-alike, the female farmer, and any mention of Supay or sun stealing—all gone. Both Kuzco and Yzma gained silly sidekicks, the former a portly Peruvian named Pacha (John Goodman) and the latter a dim-witted defender named Kronk (Patrick Warburton). Credit where credit is due, the film did take Disney briefly into the era of non-musical features. But the studios less music-minded diversion be damned, it’s a crime to have the sultry voiced Kitt in your cast and not have her sing at least once. All but one of the Sting songs were jettisoned, and a Tom Jones song added (funny story; they cut Sting's songs because they wanted someone newer, but ended up getting someone even older an out of touch), and the film is reliant instead on score and story, which I sort of admire in that the crew was trying something new. But its as though, after working on musicals for so long, the animators and writers had no idea what to put in the place of the music. They filled the gaps with silly sight gags and gimmicks rather than a complex story. To paste over what would’ve been interludes of song and dance in another Disney feature, the film makes use of self-referential, sarcastic voiceover by Spade; the fourth wall is broken constantly, with one of the most overused elements being Kuzco’s constant pausing, rewinding and fast-forwarding the film. It’s amusing at first, but quickly becomes an annoying crutch the creative team turns to whenever they need to write themselves out of a corner filled the corpses of the many jokes that fall flat and die. I suppose the relentlessly repeated gags in “The Emperor’s New Groove” are less a case of beating a dead horse, and more like clubbing the lifeless llama. (That's a bad joke, but no worse than what's in the film). So much of “Groove” seems like a hollow shell; the leftovers of something that could’ve been great. It’s a film that is at once a mash of a million different ideas, and none of them particularly well executed. Funny? Passably, I suppose; but pretty problematic too. For all its power playing, character-changing, politics driven plot, its essentially a dopey buddy comedy in the vain of the middling “Hercules”, liberally lifting from Ron Clements and John Musker’s light musical adaptation of the ancient Greek legend, only somehow not as enjoyable—which is saying something. "Emperor" relies too much on trying to be "edgy", modern, and original. The ultimate irony is that, in its quest for originality, the film ends up coming off a poor copycat. And it scarifies the basic tenants of storytelling (both content and character) for silly joke after silly joke. Jokes, mind you, that I don't think are as funny as the film thinks they are. Long ago, somewhere deep in the jungle… (Again) Again, indeed. And so begins the direct-to-video sequel produced five years after its original feature, without the input of Mark Dindal. Directing/writing duties shifted to Saul Blinkoff and Elliot M. Bour. For all the first film’s failings, its passably clever and fun from time to time, qualities which can apparently be directly credited to Dindal, because the sequel is definitely not those things. “Kronk’s New Groove” is—like so many other direct-to-video Disney sequels—a needless rehash of half-reheated plot points and callbacks to the original film for little reason other than to fill time, and sell DVDs. Things happen with little logic, and the entire enterprise seem to exist only to remind any viewer who isn’t a tiny child that what you’re watching is an inferior imitation of something you’ve already seen. The focus in the first sequel—which would be followed by a television show, “The Emperor’s New School” (2006-2008)—is Warburton’s character Kronk, the dumb bodyguard from the first film who, it turns out, had a heart of gold, and redeemed himself when (spoiler alert) he helped Kuzco and Pacha defeat Yzma by turning her into a harmless pussycat. Kronk barely worked as the silly comic relief in a movie already overburdened by comedy of conflicting kinds, and what’s increasingly clear throughout “Kronk’s New Groove” is that the character really can’t support his own feature. The film opens many, many months after the first, and once again delves into a flashback-heavy plot. Kronk has set up shop as the regions most successful restaurateur, and is part time counselor at Camp Chippamunka, where he looks after a troop of Junior Chipmunk’s, which include Pacha’s young son Tipo as a member. But when Kronk receives a letter informing him of his father’s (John Mahoney) impending arrival, the lumbering and loose-brained character panics. He’s always craved his father’s approval but that isn’t something he isn’t likely to get even with his restaurant. His father’s view of success includes not just the business, but a big house and a wife and children to fill it; Kronk is wholly lacking in the latter departments. So the once-supporting sidekick sets off on a quest all his own, to get that house and the family with whom he’ll make it a home. For reasons that make little sense, he reunites with Yzma—no longer a cat, and now selling some sort of snake oil that makes the elderly feel young again. And when that doesn’t work out, he shifts his attention to the Junior Chipmunks and a fellow camp counselor named Miss Birdwell (Tracey Ullman). Does it all work out in the end? Of course it does, with the film repeating many an element from its predecessor, only with less llamas and way, way more music. “Kronk’s New Groove” is the Disney musical “Kingdom” or “Emperor” never was, only it’s not fuelled by songs of Sting, or any good songs at all; just bland ballads that push along the predicable, piecemeal, plot. “Kronk’s New Groove” is a substantially worse story than the already iffy original. It’s almost entirely episodic, and merely a means to get from musical number to musical number, with the occasional cameo by the original film’s characters in-between. The one thing the sequel has going for it is that the entire cast from the first film returna, even for their brief blink and miss ‘em cameos. Spade, Goodman, Kitt and the rest provide fantastic voice work, but that’s not enough to save this weak sequel. “The Emperor’s New Groove”: C+ “Kronk’s New Groove”: D+
Video
Both “The Emperor’s New Groove” and “Kronk’s New Groove” share a single, dual-layered, BD-50. Instances of banding, faint traces of aliasing, and noise all appear at intervals throughout the films. But, as neither feature makes it passed the 80-minute mark, I doubt the decision to place two films on one disc—without special features—is the sole reason both presentations suffer from subtle artifacts. What’s much more likely is that some of these errors trace back to the original animation. Disney hasn’t worked any of their careful remastering magic on these two pictures (in fact, both retain their original era-appropriate opening logos, a telling sign of their older masters). Not that either film needed significant work, as they’re both sourced from digital files, but technology is always improving and I’m sure both films could look at least a little better. “The Emperor’s New Groove”, making its Blu-ray debut fully clad in an 1.66:1 widescreen 1080p 24/fps AVC MPEG-4 encode, was animated using Disney’s Computer Animated Production System, and was the most sophisticated integration of 3D CGI and traditional 2D animation ever attempted by the studio at the time it was made. Rendered at 2K, the final output of the complex animation has resulted in an HD presentation that’s not without issue, but for the most part should please fans. Colors—particularly the predominant reds, purples and greens—are nicely saturated, and line art is distinct, offering nice detail. Unfortunately, several sequences—usually those cast under the film’s deep blue starry nights—show significant banding. Aliasing occasionally crops up too, with scattershot shimmering. And high contrast edges also have slight haloing. It’s hard to say which of these flaws date back to the original animation, and which are the result of the disc’s authoring or the digital master. Would a new remaster, or better encode, have eradicated these issues? That’s even harder, perhaps impossible to know, although the few films lucky enough to have their own disc, or to pass through the CAPS system again before their respective Blu-rays—“Beauty and the Beast” and “The Lion King” especially—seem to be free of such anomalies. Then again, perhaps both of those were just better made, or have their respective 3D re-renders to thank. “Kronk’s New Groove” is presented high definition in 1.78:1 widescreen 1080p 24/fps via an AVC MPEG-4 encode, and looks slightly worse than its predecessor, in part because the quality of “Kronk’s” animation is far less polished than the first film. Which is understandable considering its direct-to-video origins (it didn’t have a $100 million budget). Colors remain bright, and line art, though less distinct, has decent definition. The film has a notably flatter texture, although that too seems to reflect the source. The various compression errors that haunt the first film appear here as well. Perhaps some of this is the compressionist’s fault after all? “The Emperor’s New Groove”: B+ “Kronk’s New Groove”: B
Audio
“The Emperor’s New Groove” offers multitude of audio options, including English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 (48kHz/24-bit), English Dolby Digital 2.0, French Dolby Digital 5.1, Spanish Dolby Digital 5.1, Russian Dolby Digital 5.1, with optional subtitles in English, French, Spanish and Russian. The film may not be the epic Allers envisioned, but Disney’s default lossless mix is close, in large part because of composer John Debney sweeping score. Dialogue is clear; the action sequences are enhanced by an effective use of the surrounds and a handful of throaty growls from LFE. “Emperor’s New Groove” doesn’t offer quite the finest aural experience in Disney’s animated catalog, but its still a great track. “Kronk’s New Groove” offers the same selection of audio options as its predecessor: English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 (48kHz/24-bit), English Dolby Digital 2.0 surround, French Dolby Digital 5.1, Spanish Dolby Digital 5.1, Russian Dolby Digital 5.1, with optional subtitles in English, French, Spanish and Russian. Reflecting its less ambitious origins, the sound design is less… epic. The sequels reliance on music over action gives it a less immersive sense of atmosphere, and the music itself is not as ornately orchestrated. It’s a fine track, but one that was obviously intended for television rather than a movie theater. “The Emperor’s New Groove”: A- “Kronk’s New Groove”: B
Extras
Disney released a 2-disc Collector’s Edition DVD of “The Emperor’s New Groove” in its format debut in 2001. That version included an audio commentary, several deleted scenes, numerous image galleries, a multi-part making-of documentary (not “The Sweatbox” (2002) but something different) and more. The Collector’s Edition was later replaced with the single-disc "New Groove Edition", which carried over the audio commentary, some of the featurettes, a smaller selection of deleted scenes, and the music videos from the earlier release. Unbelievably, the Blu-ray disc is completely lacking in bonus material. No audio commentary; no featurettes; no, not even a single music video; certainly no “Sweatbox”. If you want to explore any of the extras in this set you have to pop into the two standard def DVDs, even if you wish to watch the film with the audio commentary, which is the only decent supplement in the package anyway. Why wasn’t it ported over to the HD disc? It’s a 192 kbps audio file; couldn’t have taken up that much space, or been that much of a burden to add in the authoring stage. DISC ONE: BLU-RAY Aside from a few space-hogging bonus trailers, there are no extras on this disc. Which is ridiculous, not just because the 2-disc DVD of “The Emperor’s New Groove” included hours of material, but because… well, that (which is a big part), and the annoying fact that there are extras in this set, they’re just not on the disc you actually bought the package for in the first place. The bonus trailers (1080p) are for: - “The Little Mermaid: Diamond Edition” coming soon to Blu-ray (1.78:1 widescreen, 1 minute 32 seconds). - “Monster’s University” (1.78:1 widescreen, 1 minute 28 seconds). - “Super Buddies” on blu-ray and DVD (1.78:1 widescreen, 40 seconds). - “Marvel’s Iron Man & Hulk: Heroes United” (1.78:1 widescreen, 30 seconds). - "Disney Movie Rewards" promo (24 seconds). - "Disney Infinity" videogame trailer (30 seconds). - "Disney Radio" promo (30 seconds). - “The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh” (1.66:1 widescreen, 58 seconds) coming soon to Blu-ray. DISC TWO: DVD - “The Emperor’s New Groove: The New Groove Edition”: “The Emperor’s New Groove” is presented in 1.66:1 anamorphic widescreen with English Dolby Digital 5.1 and DTS 5.1 mixes, and a French Dolby Digital 5.1 dub. Optional English subtitles are also included. Special features include deleted scenes, an interactive game, an audio commentary and more. Three deleted scenes offer a look at material from earlier version of the film, although nothing from the aborted “The Kingdom of the Sun” has been included: - “The Destruction of Pacha’s Village” (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 2 minutes 16 seconds): producer Randy Fullmer and director Mark Dindal introduce this sequence, which actually made it all the way to animated color—a rarity in a medium where scenes and sequences that don’t work are usually abandoned in the storyboarding or animatic phase. - “Pacha’s Family (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 7 minutes 4 seconds): Fullmer also introduce an early version of viewer’s introduction to Pacha’s—much crazier—family. This sequence is unfinished and presented as a rough animatic. - “Original Kuzcotopia Ending” (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 3 minutes 26 seconds): Dindal introduces the film’s original ending that had Kuzco destroying Pacha’s village for an amusement park. They changed it because Sting told pointed out it was “Social, economically and ecologically irresponsible”, according to Dindal. This sequence is unfinished and presented as a rough animatic. A submenu marked “Music and More” contains: - “My Funny Friend and Me” music video by Sting (non-anamorphic 1.78:1 widescreen, 2 minutes 55 seconds), which is more like a featurette where Sting talks about his work on the film, and a segments of the recording sessions are shown. - Learn to “Walk the Llama Llama” music video by Rascal Flatts (1.33:1, 1 minute 32 seconds) is a kiddy-oriented bonus feature, replete with sing-along lyrics. “The Emperor’s Got Game” is an interactive action-adventure game. Like most set-top games from the DVD era, it’s simple, repetitive, and best-enjoyed—if at all—by kids. A sub-menu marked “Backstage Disney” includes featurettes and an audio commentary. “Behind-the Scenes” contains three featurettes, playable all at once or separately: - “The Research Trip” (1.33:1, 1 minute 25 seconds): producer Randy Fullmer and director Mark Dindal discuss their trip to Peru, with several animators and artists in tow, to study the landscape, people, and Llama farms of South America for the film. - “The Character Voices” (1.33:1, 5 minutes 12 seconds): the second featurette is all about the voice cast and characters. - “The Computer-Generated Images” (1.33:1, 2 minutes 21 seconds): lastly, the third featurette looks at how animators integrated 3D CG into a 2D animated world, which at the time was kind of groundbreaking. Oh how I wish the audio commentary were on the actual Blu-ray disc. This track, with producer Randy Fullmer, director Mark Dindal, art director Colin Stimpson, character designer Joseph C. Moshier, head of story Stephen Anderson, and supervising animators Nik Ranieri and Bruce W. Smith is an enlightening discussion on the production, with particular focus on the problems the crew had in basically finding the film as they made it. (Although the discussion never turns to the pre-“Emperor’s” back-story of “Kingdom in the Sun”, which is a shame.) Unfortunately, you have to watch the film is standard definition to hear any of this, which basically makes it a wash. Finally, a pre-menu portal to the past (of the long forgotten year of 2005) and additional Sneak Peek contains several out of date bonus trailers and promos: - “Lady and the Tramp” on 2 Disc Special Edition DVD (1.33:1, 1 minute 5 seconds). - Disney Channel’s Disney Movie Surfers First Look at “The Wild” and “The Shaggy Dog” (1.33:1, 2 minutes 45 seconds). - “Kronk’s New Groove” on DVD (1.33:1, 50 seconds). - “Tarzan: Special Edition” on DVD (1.33:1, 1 minute 28 seconds). - “Valiant” (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 2 minutes 20 seconds). - “Toy Story 2” Special Edition DVD (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 1 minute 35 seconds). DISC THREE: DVD - “Kronk’s New Groove”: “Kronk’s New Groove” is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen with English Dolby Digital 5.1 and DTS 5.1 mixes, with French Dolby Digital 5.1 and Spanish Dolby Digital 5.1 dubs. Optional English subtitles are also included. Special features include two interactive games and a featurette. Two interactive games, “Kronk’s Brain Game” and “Pyramid Scheme”, have been included. “How to Cook a Movie” (1.33:1, 7 minutes 55 seconds) is a featurette with Patrick Warburton, and “Kronk’s New Groove" directors Saul Blinkoff and Elliot M. Bour, who talk about the making of the film as if they’d prepared it from a well known recipe (perhaps not far off) for a fake cooking show hosted by Warburton. A weird presentation for sure, and the comments from the two directors are more inane than anything. The disc also includes bonus trailers for: - “Lady and the Tramp” on 2 Disc Special Edition DVD (1.33:1, 1 minute 5 seconds). - Disney Channel’s Disney Movie Surfers First Look at “The Wild” and “The Shaggy Dog” (1.33:1, 2 minutes 45 seconds). - “Bambi II” (1.33:1, 1 minute 52 seconds). - “Leroy and Stitch” (1.33:1, 1 minute 1 second). - “The Fox and the Hound II” (1.33:1, 1 minute 21 seconds). - “Valiant” (non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, 2 minutes 20 seconds). - “The Emperor’s New School” (1.33:1, 47 seconds). - “Pooh’s Grand Adventure: The Search For Christopher Robin” (1.33:1, 1 minute 10 seconds).
Packaging
Disney debuts “The Emperor’s New Groove” in a 3-disc Special Edition. Calling this a 3-disc Special Edition seems a bit silly. Yes, technically there are three discs. But only one of the discs is a Blu-ray—a region free, dual layered BD-50—and it contains both “Emperor’s New Groove” and its sequel, “Kronk’s New Groove” in high definition. The other two discs are old DVDs, each with an additional copy of the films in standard definition. The discs are housed in a two-disc case, with the two DVDs stacked on top of each other, and the BD-50 by itself. First pressings include a cardboard slip-cover.
Overall
I don’t think “The Emperor’s New Groove” is a bad film. I’ve just never quite warmed to it, and find the story behind the making of “Kingdom in the Sun” and the supposedly groovier picture it eventually became far more interesting. The film is light fun, but nothing else, and personally I don’t even find it fun for it’s entire runtime. Large potions of it don’t work—for me, anyway. That the film is even remotely coherent after all its various iterations is sort of amazing. And I admire the attempt to make a less musical film. I just think Disney’s next stab at making a movie without song—“Atlantis: The Lost Empire” (2001)—did it better. The less said about the derivative sequel “Kronk’s New Groove” the better. Disney’s decision to cram both films on a single disc, without extras, is disappointing. But both films have never looked or sounded better. Fans should be somewhat pleased. NOTE: Film, Video, and Audio scores below are averages. Look at the body of this review for individual scores. Extras were considered as a whole.
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