by Jake Bourgeois, Contributing Writer  

I’ve always had a soft spot for animation. More years than not, at least a couple of animated features find their way onto my top 10 list. So, I’m setting out to shine a light on some films that may have passed you by. The idea with Animation Celebration is to take a look at some underseen gems — so no Toy Story or Frozen here. 

Let’s get started.   


When looking for a “scary” animated entry to properly celebrate the season, there were plenty of depressing options that are on my list to get to eventually. However, it’s election season, and that’s depressing enough for now. So it’s all aboard the nostalgia train instead!

Okay, in truth, “nostalgia” may be a bit strong when it comes to The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad. I remember the two-parter being put on during an elementary music class. Something I was intrigued to dig into, both to see if, A) there was anything musically that stood out to me as particularly spectacular; and, B) whether that belongs in the camp of, “I can’t believe they let us watch that,” as the image of the Headless Horseman in this film is burned into my brain right alongside the ending of The Brave Little Toaster as nightmare fuel in animated form.

It’s a two-parter of childhood classics, told in the inverse of the title. We first get the story of The Wind in the Willows, where J. Thaddeus Toad (Eric Blore) is attempted to be saved from himself (and his tendency of hopping from one mania to another) by his friends Mole (Colin Campbell), Rat (Claud Allister), Angus MacBadger (Campbell Grant), and Cyril (J. Pat O’Malley). Then, Ichabod Crane lives out the fear of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Disney’s 11th animated feature released in 1949, coming at the end of a string of four anthologies, with the studio alternating between musical vignettes, like Melody Time (1948) and Make Mine Music (1946), and another two-tale feature, Fun and Fancy Free (1947), with their post-war releases. It’s also the last of the Wartime Era films, before Cinderella heralded in the Silver Age of the studio.

So how does this one hold up?

Let’s start chronologically with Mr. Toad. We’re hilariously introduced to him wreaking havoc to the upbeat “Merrily on Our Way to Nowhere in Particular.” He’s by no means a particularly likable character — as an aristocrat who can’t be told no by anyone — but somehow the story gets by on pure British charm. It’s ridiculous in the best way possible. 

It also doesn’t hurt that Basil Rathbone narrates the telling just off his iconic run of Sherlock Holmes (of course the titular mouse in Disney’s later feature The Great Mouse Detectiveis named Basil) — and having him name check his famous role as he was introducing the story with a list of famous characters from English literature gave me a chuckle. Having him to lead us along our narrative path just feels so calming, in contrast to the madcap hijinks, and helps give it a true classic feel. 

For our American tale, it’s Bing Crosby spinning the yarn of Ichabod Crane. Hilariously, Ichabod only has a voice actor listed for his scream (Pinto Colvig) and his horse (Clarence Nash), though both are uncredited. However, upon the start of the opening number “Ichabod,” I unlocked a memory I forgot I had and was quickly swinging to the jaunty tune. (Side note: if you’re trying to portray your gangly and awkward protagonist as a ladies’ man, giving him the singing voice of Bing Crosby is never a bad choice.)

Once it gets to the end, it’s a true highlight. Up to this point, it’s been a solid piece of classic animation, looking like paintings throughout, but the final chase scene is still spectacular. The atmosphere of the woods is appropriately creepy, and the paranoia they get across comes through as they draw attention to every little noise that gives an already on edge Ichabod the chills. When the final chaise does come, the moment the whole feature has been leading up to, I found the climax to be a satisfying one and the Headless Horseman to be sufficiently terrifying for a kids’ movie. 

As I reflect off the musicality offered up top, we do get a jazzy number to start off our opening credits, Toad’s song is quite catchy, and it certainly gives Crosby plenty of ways to utilize his singing talents. It all helps with a feel that fits for the time. Everything about this is “classic” (in a more generalized sense, not in a Golden Age of Disney sense). From our narrators, to the painterly look of the animation, and, of course, the tales themselves. 

While it’s not something that’s going to blow your mind, I enjoyed the comfort that a classic Disney offering provided. 


I’m excited to continue to geek out on some great animated work you may not have had a chance to catch. Next month, I think another trip into the Disney vault is likely on the horizon with the release of Moana 2.

You can read more from Jake Bourgeois, and follow him on Twitter and Letterboxd