Film Review: Make Mine Music (1946)

*All reviews contain spoilers*

Disclaimer: This blog is purely recreational and not for profit. Any material, including images and/or video footage, is property of their respective companies, unless stated otherwise. The author claims no ownership of this material. The opinions expressed therein reflect those of the author and are not to be viewed as factual documentation. All screencaps are from


The Andrews Sisters – themselves

Candy Candido – the wolf (apparently)

Ken Darby Chorus – themselves

Jerry Colonna – Casey narrator

Nelson Eddy – Narrator, Willie, Whitey, Tetti-Tatti, Sailors, Newsman, Men, Workman, Cabbie, Cop, Scientists, Woman, Cat, Opera Singers and the Chorus (This must be some kind of record)

Benny Goodman – himself

Sterling Holloway – Peter and the Wolf narrator

David Lichine – himself

The King’s Men – themselves

The Pied Pipers – themselves

Tatiana Riabouchinska – herself

Andy Russell – himself

Dinah Shore – herself

Sources of InspirationCasey at the Bat, an American poem by Ernest Thayer, 1888 and Peter and the Wolf, a Russian fairy tale/composition by Sergei Prokofiev, 1936

Release Dates

April 20th, 1946 in New York City, New York (premiere)

August 15th, 1946 (general release)

Run-time – 75 minutes

Directors – Robert Cormack, Clyde Geronimi, Jack Kinney, Hamilton Luske and Joshua Meador

Composers – Eliot Daniel, Oliver Wallace and Charles Wolcott

Worldwide Gross – $2.25 million (in US rentals)

Accolades – 1 win and 1 nomination

1946 in History

Vietnam holds its first general election

First meeting of the UN, in London – its predecessor, the League of Nations, later disbands

The Iran Crisis of 1946 occurs

Project Diana bounces radar waves off the Moon, opening the Space Age

French Guiana, Guadeloupe, Martinique and Réunion become overseas départements of France

British PM Clement Attlee promises India its independence once they have a constitution

The Interim Government of India begin to prepare for that day

Jordan (then known as Transjordan) gains independence from the UK

Japanese and Italian women vote for the first time

About 800 Aboriginal Australians start the 1946 Pilbara Strike, one of the longest in the nation’s history

An escape attempt by six inmates causes the Battle of Alcatraz

Sony is founded, as Tokyo Telecommunications Engineering

Nuclear weapons tests by the US in the Marshall Islands; they’re named Operation Crossroads

The focus on bikini atoll inspires the bikini swimsuit, which is first modelled in Paris

Hermann Göring, founder of the gestapo, poisons himself before his trial at Nuremberg

Births of Dolly Parton, Alan Rickman, Cher, Freddie Mercury and Steven Spielberg, as well as US presidents Donald Trump, Bill Clinton and George W. Bush


Here we are at classic number eight, Make Mine Music, the third of the package films and the first classic released after World War II ended. Unlike the previous two, this one does not have any single framing device; it’s simply a collection of distinct animated shorts, set to music. It mixes vaudeville, circus and opera styles, but is dominated mainly by popular music of the time, making it an interesting sort of time capsule of a film, offering a rare animated glimpse of pop culture in the 1940s. (Imagine who might feature on the program if it were made today – probably Justin Bieber, Ariana Grande and Ed Sheeran, for starters).

The film serves as a kind of animation buffet, offering a wide range of musical and drawing styles, so you’re bound to find something you like amongst the selections presented. Many of the pieces selected were leftovers from Fantasia, which was originally planned to be rereleased every few years with new pieces on its program. Unfortunately, this plan would never come to fruition during Walt’s lifetime, and he was reportedly very dissatisfied with Make Mine Music, which has been dismissed by many critics as a “poor man’s Fantasia.” He had to be persuaded to make this one by his brother, Roy, who was always the more level-headed of the pair when it came to finances.

I think critic John Grant pretty much sums up the film’s issues here; “{The film} seems to be constantly trying to break out of the straitjacket of its own cheapness – and often succeeds in doing so.” This is the key to understanding Make Mine Music – in spite of the financial and artistic limitations imposed on the studio by the war, they still managed to put together this enjoyable selection of quality animation with what they had, using bits and pieces left behind from earlier productions and incorporating a lively (and more accessible) soundtrack. It continues to go underappreciated to this day – many Disney fans have never even heard of it – so let’s give it the attention it deserves.


The Martins and the Coys

Following the theatrical opening credits (where the featured artists are now being prominently billed – a far cry from the days of uncredited actors), we get this lively short to open the film. Performed by The King’s Men, this seems to be a sort of hillbilly take on Romeo and Juliet, but is likely also based on a real-life event: The Hatfield-McCoy Feud of 1863-1891. Sparked by land disputes and Civil War tensions, it occurred on the border of West Virginia and Kentucky and involved two rival families, who fell out with each other after a returning Union soldier of the McCoys was murdered by a local Confederate militia unit. The Hatfields were implicated in the murder, and this began a long and bitter feud between the two families, which eventually lead to the deaths of four Hatfields and the imprisonment of nine more (along with seven McCoys). The feud was only ended by the execution of Ellison “Cottontop” Mounts (one of the Hatfields) and a series of subsequent trials which ran until 1901. Funnily enough, there actually was a romance (well, sort of) between these two rival sides, between Johnson “Johnse” Hatfield and Roseanna McCoy, and like the one portrayed here, their relationship did not have a very happy ending.

Martins and Coys

As far as animated shorts go, this one is alright, but it’s nothing special. There’s far too much slapstick for my tastes, but it does have some decent background imagery and limited use of special effects. The music is probably the highlight, incorporating some lively hoedown music at the wedding near the end (the animation in that part is really goofy though).


After the Martins and McCoys more or less wipe themselves out, the only two remaining combatants – Grace Martin and Henry McCoy – begin to track each other down for the final battle. When Henry first spots Grace from a distance, we get a rather more sexist version of the scene from Pocahontas, decades later; Henry, distracted by the sexy lady’s silhouette, immediately decides to court her rather than kill her. (By the way, what in the world is Grace wearing? She seems rather scandalously dressed by 1940s standards!) The “twist” at the end is that, after their shotgun wedding, the quarrelsome couple reignite the old family feud, to the delight of their heavenly brethren in the clouds above. Yes, dysfunctional marriages are a real scream!

The most notable thing about this one is that it has been frequently removed in home media releases due to the excessive gun violence (more of the censorship we’ve seen in several of these 1940s releases). More recently, though, it has been restored, so it was present on the DVD for my viewing of the film. It’s not one of my favourites, but I’m still glad to have seen the film the way it was intended.


Blue Bayou (Click here for the version with Debussy)

The next segment makes for a jarring change of pace. Blue Bayou was one of the pieces originally intended for Fantasia, where it was to be accompanied by Clair de Lune from Claude Debussy’s Suite bergamasque (1905) – an alternate version of the piece with that music still exists, which I’ve linked to above. It was changed for Make Mine Music as the program consisted mainly of popular music and a classical piano suite wouldn’t have fit in, but in all honesty, it really is better with Debussy, lovely as the Ken Darby Chorus performance in the film is.

Blue Bayou scenery #1Blue Bayou scenery #2

The piece is set in the misty beauty of the Everglades, following the “romance” of a pair of egrets. It features some of the most exquisite animation of the whole package era, certainly the best since the Golden Age; I really wish it could be treated to a full restoration like those films have had, as it would benefit greatly from it (you can see the “spotty” quality of the old film). The placement of this piece feels a bit odd; its short length and lack of a plot makes it feel like an interlude, yet they’ve put it here as the second piece on the program. I’m assuming the animators couldn’t resist showing it off nice and early, as it really is a stunning piece of work.


All the Cats Join In

The first Benny Goodman number in the film is billed as a “jazz interlude” – but of all the shorts presented, this one does not feel like an interlude at all. It’s so much fun; Goodman’s orchestra sets your foot bouncing in no time with their lively swing rhythms, and it goes great with Fred Moore’s simple but inventive animation. The piece is done in a similar style to Aquarela do Brasil from Saludos Amigos, where the scenery (and sometimes the characters) are drawn in real time by a an animated pencil (it was a paintbrush in Caballeros). This short offers a rare animated glimpse into the pop culture of the time, making it probably the most dated part of the film – but not in a bad way! I especially like the little explanation to the audience of what “cats” refers to – it’s old slang for “hepcat,” which was someone associated with the jazz subculture of the 1940s and 1950s. The characters are basically proto-hipsters!

Dancing hepcats

The story simply involves a group of teen “hepcats” getting together at their local Malt Shop to dance to the jukebox. The early scenes feature a young bobby-soxer getting a call from some blonde youth at the Malt Shop, who invites her to join him by simply holding the phone up to the jukebox. She responds with some hilarious scatting and then dashes to get changed into a surprisingly short skirt and some ugly mannish loafers.

Apparently, various scenes from the segment “All the Cats Join In” have been censored in recent releases, mostly for brief moments of nudity and focus on the feminine parts of the female teens. Attention has been drawn to a scene featuring a naked girl jumping out of a shower into her clothes. That scene was considered especially controversial in the 1940s, as you can imagine (the outfits do seem pretty skimpy for the time). The mean old Hays Office even tried to have the scene cut! Thankfully the current DVD releases seem to keep the scene in its original form – you do get a bit sick of all this censorship. It was just a different time!

Bobby-soxer on phone

Actually, part of what I enjoy most about this is the iffy morals it presents. At one point, the bobby-soxer girl’s littler sister ends up left home all by herself when the older girl heads out with her friends. Gee, she sure is a swell babysitter! The car they use to get to the Malt Shop is then seriously overloaded (with one plucky young bloke even perched on the tip of the bonnet), and once they get there, we have one memorable moment when a girl who has been “drawn” with an overly large backside actually has to have it reduced by the animator before a picky boy will dance with her! Good grief. Still, despite these rather jarring moments, it’s an entertaining piece and a welcome inclusion on the program that’s sure to get you flinging the nearest person around the living room in a wild swing dance – just don’t hurt yourself!


Without You

This short, poetic piece features a song based on Cuban composer Osvaldo Farrés’ song Tres Palabras (1942) sung by Andy Russell, and focuses on the theme of lost love. As with most of these little interlude sections, it features some of the better animation of the film, moody and melancholic, creating a powerful sense of atmosphere. It’s important to keep in mind the historical context here; lost love was, unfortunately, a well-known situation for many across the world in the aftermath of World War II, so this piece could be intended to reflect and sympathise with those feelings of loss.


Casey at the Bat

This is one of the film’s better-known sections, featuring a version of the 1888 poem Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer, narrated by Jerry Colonna. It’s one of the least “musical” of the pieces, so it feels a little out of place, especially sandwiched as it is between two of the more delicate interlude sections. Still, it’s not a bad short, and did well enough to inspire a sequel short in 1954 called Casey Bats Again, which depicts his nine daughters forming a baseball team and finding the success that their father lost.

Thayer, the creator of the original poem, was not actually a professional writer – he worked for the San Francisco Examiner as the humour columnist, occasionally contributing sports articles. Casey was the only one of his few written works to become popular. The question of exactly which player Casey is supposed to be based on has been debated since the 19th century, but Thayer never confirmed anything. The most likely candidate is Michael Joseph “King” Kelly, who was a star player at the time of the poem’s creation.

Victorian Casey illustrationCasey and his Gibson girls

The piece, set in 1902, features more of that turn-of-the-century nostalgia that was so common in the 1940s (kind of like today’s fascination with the 1990s, I suppose). I love the Disneyfied take on old-timey illustrations at the start of the short; it’s an interesting artistic choice for them. Mind you, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow at some of the narration – near the beginning, the singers cheerily tell us that “the ladies don’t understand baseball a bit – they don’t know a strike from a foul or a hit!” (Imagine what Casey’s daughters would have to say about that!) There’s definitely some glaring sexism in this one, but it’s easier to overlook than usual as Casey, head honcho that he is, still doesn’t manage to succeed with any of the Gibson girls who mob him during the game, thanks to his embarrassing strikeout. Much like The Martins and the Coys, this short is a bit heavy on the slapstick for me, but it does pick up when Casey himself swaggers in – he’s like a duller, goofier Gaston, draped in women and filled to the brim with arrogance, but this ends up being his downfall as he deliberately ignores the first two pitches, only to fluff the third and lose the game, not to mention the respect of his fans. It serves as a clear moral lesson: pride always comes before a fall.


Two Silhouettes

Ah, Dinah Shore. Smashing voice she had, and we’ll be seeing some more of her in the next package film! Here, she sings a charming ballad over some fluid, rotoscoped animation of a pair of ballet dancers performing together, as some angels/cupids look on. The dancers are David Lichine and Tatiana (or Tania) Riabouchinska, both of whom previously worked on the Dance of the Hours sequence in Fantasia. I like the decision to use rotoscoping for this short segment, as it helps to capture the precision of the movements of the couple, showing off the art of ballet accompanied by some beautiful animation. Short and sweet, your opinion of this section will likely depend on your opinion of ballet in general.

Two Silhouettes


Peter and the Wolf

Next up is one of the film’s more famous sequences. Another Fantasia reject, Peter and the Wolf (1936) is a “symphonic fairy tale” composed by Sergei Prokofiev, and narrated here by Sterling Holloway (I’m sure you’ll know who he is by now). This is one of the rare appearances of classical music in the program of the film, and is actually a fairly bold choice for such a capitalistic company – the original version had Peter as a Young Pioneer, the Pioneers being a Soviet children’s organisation similar to the Scouts, founded in 1922. The Pioneer organisation was run by the government and funded by the communist party, and combined typical scouting activities with lessons on communist ideology. Although Disney dispensed with this detail of Peter’s character, the short still features explicitly Russian characters and settings being portrayed sympathetically, for the most part. This was just before the Cold War really started to get going, at a time when the USA and the Soviet Union were (incredibly) allies.

Peter Pyotr Disney Wolf

The narration for this version was largely rewritten, but the introduction of the characters accompanied by specific musical instruments is retained – Peter is represented by the String Quartet, Sascha by the Flute, Sonia by the Oboe, Ivan by the Clarinet, Grandpa by the Bassoon, the shooting of the Hunters’ guns by the Kettledrums, and the Wolf primarily by horns and cymbals. A few other changes were made, too; Peter originally captured the wolf alive and transports him to a zoo, and poor Sonia (who was unnamed) is actually killed. I wonder what Prokofiev thought of the changes made to the piece – he was alive at the time of release!

Peter is presented here as a sort of everyman character. With his sunny blonde hair and pink button nose, he’s the all-American version of a Russian child, the personification of good pitted against the snarling, drooling, manic-eyed wolf’s evil. As is typical for Disney, the side characters are the ones with the personality – as Peter sets out on his hunt (narrowly escaping his overprotective grandfather), he meets up with Sascha the bird, Sonia the duck and Ivan the cat, whose antics make for some of the short’s funniest scenes. Sascha reminds me a lot of the Aracuan from the Latin American films, though thankfully it’s only in his design, not his mannerisms! Ivan, on the other hand, seems like a prototype of Lucifer, another hint of the upcoming Cinderella. He and Sascha even have a bit of a Tom-and-Jerry-style chase before Peter reprimands them.

Peter, Sonia, Sascha and Ivan
From left to right: Peter, Sonia, Sascha and Ivan

The Wolf of Disney Peter and Wolf

The reactions of the characters when they find the wolf are perplexing – Sonia in particular seems very slow on the uptake, which almost leads to her demise! For heaven’s sake, the narrator actually has to tell them to escape! The fake-out “Disney death” of Sonia is one of the more convincingly done ones; they go so far as to show her entering the gates of heaven, heightening the stakes as we truly think she’s been swallowed. When the bumbling hunters (Mischa, Yascha and Vladimir, animated by Ward Kimball) turn up, we feel like they’re just in the nick of time to save our plucky young friends – but then, to their amazement and ours, we find that Peter and Sascha have somehow trussed the wolf up in a tree and are all set to take him back to the village! How on earth did they manage that so quickly? I really don’t understand why this part was rushed through like this – even Sterling Holloway sounds surprised! The short wraps up with Peter’s triumphant return, the wolf bound on a stick like he’s on his way to a cannibal’s cooking pot, followed by Sonia’s reappearance – she was simply hiding, not eaten at all! Hooray!

With a clear plot, engaging characters and classical music, this is definitely one of the film’s better segments.


After You’ve Gone

This second, short piece by Benny Goodman features more great jazz music, which accompanies an abstract sequence of animation featuring a motley crew of anthropomorphised instruments. There’s not much to it – the instruments simply dance and fly about in their colourful world, reminding me of the soundtrack sequence from Fantasia or Pink Elephants on Parade from Dumbo. It’s sort of surreal at times and is quite a fun little piece – if you don’t like it, at least take comfort in the fact that it’s short.

After You've Gone


Johnnie Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet

As we near the film’s end, we find this wonderful little story about a pair of star-crossed hats, torn apart by circumstances and eventually reunited in their love, musically narrated by the Andrews Sisters. I really like this one; it’s charming and sweet, and reminds me strongly of Pixar’s The Blue Umbrella (2013), which also features anthropomorphised objects trying to find each other in a bustling city. The short was clearly quite popular with audiences of the time, too, enough so that it was rereleased as an individual piece on May 21st, 1954.

Johnnie Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet

Johnnie and Alice start out in a fancy hat shop, singing to each other as they dream of a future together (complete with a “beautiful hatbox for two” and two little bonnet-babies). Unfortunately, their fantasy is shattered when a young woman comes in and buys Alice (by the way, I know this was when corsets were in fashion, but seriously, the waist on that woman is painfully tiny – she looks like an insect). Johnnie mourns his loss for a while, until he himself is bought by a young man who looks suspiciously like Cinderella’s Prince Charming, judging from the brief glimpse we get of his eyes. As he is carried about New York, he searches desperately for Alice from atop his owner’s head, finally spotting her from a distance and struggling in vain to reach her. His efforts only serve to get him swept away and lost, whereupon he enters a cycle of humiliation as he is found by a bum and involved in a barroom brawl (featuring a rather startling gunfight, complete with women screaming and glass everywhere). Eventually, just as he is about to be swept down a storm drain, an iceman (more of that turn-of-the-century nostalgia) rescues him and cuts holes in him so that he can put Johnnie on his horse. This might seem bad at first, until he discovers his beloved Alice on the horse beside him, gazing lovingly from beneath her long-lashed doe eyes.

Given how the final short ends, it’s nice to get a last dose of “happy ending” from this one first. I love the style it’s done in, and the narration is excellent, if a little melodramatic at times with lines like, “His voice became hushed, he was LITERALLY CRUSHED!” I recommend checking this one out, it’s another of the film’s star pieces.

(One small note: Alice’s last name doesn’t make much sense, considering she’s neither a bonnet nor a Scottish blue bonnet…)


The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met

For the grand finale, Make Mine Music presents us with this excellent story about an operatic whale and his tragic fate. Billed as an “Opera Pathetique,” this short is truly the best of all. The really impressive thing about it is that it is narrated and sung entirely by one person – the immensely talented Nelson Eddy. Known for his collaborations with soprano Jeanette MacDonald, Eddy achieved no less than three stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and was the highest-paid singer in the world during his heyday. It’s not hard to see why; as Willie the Whale, he performs all three of his singing voices – tenor, baritone and bass – as well as voicing every other character in the piece. His father was a machinist and toolmaker, a skill which Eddy picked up; to create the unique blend of voices in this short, he tinkered with his home recording equipment and multitracked quartets and sextets of his own voice, then multiplied these by multitracking the multitrack several times over, creating a whole chorus of himself!

The singing is truly magnificent. Just compare him with the likes of Nick Pitera or Vitas Bumac of today (both talented singers with wide vocal ranges, known for being able to sing both male and female parts in their songs). Willie’s repertoire includes the sextet Chi mi frena in tal momento? from Donizetti’s opera, Lucia di Lammermoor, Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, Boito’s Mephistopheles, Largo al factotum from Rossini’s The Barber of Seville, Magic Fire Music from Wagner’s Die Walküre, Mag der Himmel Euch Verbegen from von Flotow’s Martha, and Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries – every single one of them performed with power and aplomb by Eddy.

Willie in the sea

The story concerns Willie’s attempts to be “discovered,” as he is dreaming of a glittering career onstage. He is shown to be a friendly and popular guy, surrounded by animal fans out at sea who listen to him performing a rendition of the 1915 version of Shortnin’ Bread (and I know, the lyrics might be a tad racist by today’s standards, but let’s just leave it, okay). The song might seem like an unusual choice for Willie, otherwise a classical purist, but it was likely an in-joke by the film’s creators, since Nelson Eddy had found wide success with his cover of the song in 1937. After passing ships catch snatches of his singing and strange reports begin to surface in the newspapers, Willie’s pal Whitey the seagull (creative name, there) excitedly brings one of them to Willie’s attention. The whale is overjoyed, thinking he’s finally getting his shot at the big time, and hurries to perform for the humans he meets at sea. One of these people is the impresario Tetti-Tatti, who is incredulous about Willie’s abilities, eventually concluding that he must have swallowed an opera singer! (Perhaps Geppetto’s gotten a new hobby, eh?)

Tetti Tatti and Whitey
Tetti-Tatti and Whitey

Tetti-Tatti’s not really villainous per say, he’s just stubborn and deluded (at least in the words of the narrator). He’s actually quite hammy and funny – “PUBLICITY! PUBLIIIIIIIICITYYYYYY!” He also sees himself as the hero, setting out with a boat to try and rescue the “hopera singer” he thinks is in Willie’s gut. Once he and his crew find Willie, the whale begins performing for them with great gusto, assuming they must be talent scouts – the sailors are a riot, as they actually get really into the show and physically restrain Tetti-Tatti to prevent him from murdering Willie. We find out that Willie’s marvellous ability is the result of him having three uvulae (especially remarkable considering that real animals, including whales, have none), each of which can sing independently in a separate voice. As the sailors applaud, Willie is transported into fantasies of his future career on land as a celebrated opera singer, making for some of the most memorable scenes in the whole film as he runs through a string of excellent pieces, to the delight of his audience. There’s a newspaper montage reminiscent of the one at the end of Dumbo, including a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to Frank Sinatra and a sprinkling of Japanese (with matching “ethnic” musical motif), just to get across how popular he’ll become.

Willie performing onstageWillie as PagliacciWillie as TristanWillie as Mephistopheles

Sadly, this is not to be. In an effectively done scene transition, Willie’s fantasy of himself playing Mephistopheles is cut brutally short by reality – Tetti-Tatti has finally reached the harpoon gun and shoots one into poor Willie, who suddenly loses his spongy cushion shape and appears more like a real whale, writhing and breaching through the waves. It’s a shocking mood switch and works perfectly, but what’s really so powerful about this piece is that there’s no fake-out – unlike Sonia from Peter and the Wolf, Willie is actually killed off for real. For Disney to genuinely kill off the main character in one of their stories is practically unheard of; it was a bold risk for them to take and I for one applaud them for going through with it. The ending of the short (and the film) is thus rather bittersweet, possibly a reflection of popular sentiments regarding the end of WWII at the time.

Anti-whaling make mine music

Attitudes towards whaling were just barely beginning to change at the time. In 1946, the same year this came out, the International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling was created in Washington, as people were beginning to notice the lack of whales since their decimation in the early decades of the century. Of course, the convention’s aim was mainly to manage stocks better so that people could go on hunting them – it wouldn’t be for another twenty years or so that the public would begin to actually care about the whale’s well-being. Still, this sensitive portrayal of a whale with a personality being brutally killed must have inspired at least a few budding conservationists at the time. The short was rereleased on its own in August, 1954 and remains one of the film’s most popular sections to this day.


Final Verdict

Make Mine Music was fairly successful, with its program filled with popular artists of the day, but there was still a palpable sense of disappointment. Like the Disney staff, audiences were yearning to return to the full-length features of yesteryear, and the continuation of the package films after the war must have left many people feeling frustrated – much as Walt himself did. The film has never been rereleased in its entirety, and the unedited version of it (including the Martins and Coys section), was only released on DVD here in the UK as recently as 2013. Still, it did manage to win the award for Best Animation Design at the inaugural Cannes Film Festival in 1946, and although it’s obscure today, it’s a lot better than many critics give it credit for. The trouble is that it is very inconsistent in quality and style – you might like some of the shorts, even most of them, but there will probably be a few you can’t stand as well. If you don’t fancy watching the whole film, I’d recommend finding some of the individual segments online; the majority are well worth seeing.

We’ll be seeing another of these music anthologies soon, but first, we have Fun and Fancy Free to get through, so stay tuned!

My Rating – 3/5


I consulted my own books to research for this review, as well as some standard web sources:

Encyclopedia of Walt Disney’s Animated Characters (1998 ed.) by John Grant – credit for poster – credit for first Martins and Coys image – credit for second Martins and Coys image – Wiki article – IMDB profile – info on the real Hatfields and McCoys


3 Replies to “Film Review: Make Mine Music (1946)”

  1. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to see the whole film, as it isn’t available at my local library. I did, however, watch “Peter and the Wolf” (along with the 1935 Silly Symphony “Music Land” and the 1942 Mickey Mouse short “Symphony Hour”) on video many years ago.

    And, as much as I hate to constantly call out any errors that I find, “Aquarela do Brasil” is from SALUDOS AMIGOS, not THREE CABALLEROS…

    Liked by 1 person

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