Raya and the Last Dragon hits Disney Plus this week. To commemorate the occasion, I ranked every animated movie in Disney’s illustrious, bumpy history. The films below represent the “Disney canon” –– the 58 theatrical films produced by Walt Disney Animation Studios, the company’s primary animation house. Pixar movies, live-action/animation hybrids (like Mary Poppins), direct-to-video sequels, and DisneyToon productions (like A Goofy Movie) are not included in this canon.
Disney movies are primarily known for light-hearted, family-friendly escapism, and while they certainly appeal to kids, many still contain gorgeous artistry and stunning creativity. That creativity sometimes finds itself at odds with racist stereotypes and sexist depictions of women –– not to mention the fact that the Disney creative team almost always sees white men in the vast majority of leadership positions, which raises serious questions about the filmmakers’ tendency to pull from cultures and traditions that are not their own. At their best, these films provide emotional resonance, visual beauty, and musical wonder in spite of their offenses, flaws, and shortsightedness. In short, there’s no such thing as a flawless Disney film, but there are a multitude of powerful, effective ones, and I’ve ranked them according to artistic merit, thematic coherence, and overall success as accessible entertainment.
58. Home on the Range
The most aggressively annoying movie Disney has ever put its name on. Every single character in this is an irritating comic relief sidekick, and 90% of the movement on-screen is abhorrent slapstick (not that slapstick is bad, but this movie does not handle it with any cleverness or precision). The movie so fundamentally mishandles its plot and themes that it’s tempting to say that it doesn’t even have any. The only saving grace here is the colorful animation, which the studio supposedly designed for a different project that was scrapped. The problem with this is not the animation, it’s the horrendous humor, bland plotting, and near-total lack of intrigue, so the fact that this basically killed Hollywood hand-drawn animation makes me want to launch myself into the sun. Read more here.
57. Dinosaur
Computer animation technology has progressed so much in the twenty-odd years since this film’s release that it now looks like test footage for a more dynamic movie. Critics in 2000 praised the film for its innovative animation but disliked the story and dialogue, so the general reputation of the movie came from its visual splendor and not much else. Now, that visual splendor is practically nonexistent: the use of real-life backgrounds was an intriguing experiment, but the characters look so rudimentary that the juxtaposition between the two styles is abhorrent. The lighting and texture on the dinosaurs do not hold up to scrutiny at all. And the story and characters are both so generic that there’s nothing to distract from the datedness of the animation. Read more here.
56. Oliver and Company
The messy adventures of poorly-designed, stereotypical characters punctuated by some of the worst songs in the Disney canon. The animation looks like a Disney Channel cartoon from the ‘90s — fine, but absolutely not up to the standards of a theatrical release from the quintessential American animation studio. Could be enjoyable for kids, but this is essentially a prototype for the immature, lazily-animated films that Illumination churns out. Read more here.
55. Chicken Little
It feels as though Disney’s trying to cash in on Jimmy Neutron, a movie/show about suburban underdogs fighting egg-shaped aliens that actually justifies its existence with hilarious characters and dialogue. This movie, on the other hand, crams in hundreds of cheap, poorly-integrated pop culture references and some of the worst needle drops in movie history. With terrible-looking computer animation, ugly character designs, awful pacing, and horribly lazy humor, it’s a wonder that Chicken Little isn’t the Worst Disney Movie Ever. The only thing preventing it from claiming that title is the core father-son dynamic, which, at its most basic level, genuinely works. The titular character is likable enough that you actually feel invested in his triumphs and defeats, which is a feat that worse movies never pull off.
54. The Fox and the Hound
This movie essentially tells kids that some beings, by nature, cannot be friends with certain types of other beings, even if they really want to. I get what Disney is going for here — there’s power in stories of friends embracing their respective destinies and drifting apart. But the way the filmmakers communicate that message in this movie is horrendously toxic, essentially telling the audience to stick with their own kind. Yes, there’s a muted reconciliation near the conclusion, but that isn’t the focus of the overarching narrative of the film. Maybe, by highlighting the connection between the two humans at the end, the filmmakers are trying to show that people are distinct from animals because we can overcome our differences. If this was their intent, they totally failed, because almost everyone views The Fox and the Hound as a tragedy of lost friendship. It doesn’t help that the animation looks cheap, the songs leave no impression, and the plot simultaneously moves too slowly and too quickly (how can we possibly invest in the loss of the core friendship when it lasts for less than ten minutes?). Oh, and there’s an awful B-plot involving two birds and a caterpillar that brings any sense of urgency to a screeching halt. Read more here.
53. Fun and Fancy Free
World War II drew away a large portion of Disney’s workforce, so the studio lacked the capacity and resources to produce entire feature-length films for most of the 1940s. To keep the company afloat, various teams of animators continued to create short segments that could be thrown together and released as “package films”: collections of unrelated sequences that were theatrically screened as one project. Fun and Fancy Free is the worst of the package films: while most of its counterparts have a multitude of segments, this film only has two shorts, and they both feel…not short. There’s a reason neither of them were developed into individual features. And they’re inexplicably framed by a grotesque live-action ventriloquist act. The soundtrack carries the entire movie — it’s pleasant and fun, unlike the majority of the plot and animation. The “Mickey and the Beanstalk” segment might work for kids, but it hasn’t aged well. “Bongo” is even worse — it’s overlong and, though potentially inadvertently, it may encourage domestic violence. Read more here.
52. Make Mine Music
This package film has a staggering ten segments, and only three or four of them are worthwhile. Two Benny Goodman-soundtracked shorts zip along with a solid amount of fun, and the finale –– which features an operatic whale –– is bonkers enough to justify a watch or two. There’s also a “Peter and the Wolf” short that’s carried by the pre-existing music. The rest of the shorts may have one or two compelling elements each, but remain painfully generic on the whole. It’s strange, because on the surface, this isn’t too different from the excellent Fantasia, but that film bursts with creativity and heart, while this one trudges along without much soul. Read more here.
51. The Aristocats
Thematically, narratively, and aesthetically, this movie covers a lot of the same ground as Lady and the Tramp, right down to a completely unnecessary racist caricature in the form of a Siamese cat. Both movies revolve around a romance between a pampered pet and a scruffy stray, and involve a ton of wandering around. This film addresses class more overtly than its canine predecessor, but features a nearly identical central theme: social standing shouldn’t inhibit community or romance. But, unlike Lady and the Tramp, this movie completely contradicts itself — the working-class butler, who understandably wants to obtain some of his boss’s material wealth instead of her cats (why would you leave your estate to CATS?), is framed as a despicable villain. And the ridiculous racism during the film’s standout musical sequence doesn’t help, either.
50. Bolt
I think this wins the award for Most Forgettable Disney Movie. It hits all the most generic Unlikely Duo beats that Pixar had already done about ten times before its release, but without a smidge of the originality or fun that made those movies work. It’s wrapped in an unnecessarily in-depth premise — not only is the titular canine an actor, but he’s also trapped in a closed set so he doesn’t know he’s on TV (a la Truman Show) and his owner is his costar. I’m pretty sure the movie would still make sense if the dog was just dumb and that was the main source of conflict and confusion, rather than a massive corporate conspiracy to keep him in the dark for method acting purposes, but whatever. I appreciate that there are fewer awful jokes and less physical humor than Chicken Little and Home on the Range, and the fact that the main character is remotely visually appealing immediately sets Bolt above those movies. Aggressively subpar but never inept, it rarely fails because it rarely tries. At least there’s a solid action setpiece at the beginning. Read more here.
49. Frozen II
This is a very, very ambitious movie that casts a ridiculously wide thematic net. The songs are great, and there are some genuinely thrilling sequences, but the overall project is a swing and a miss. I applaud the idea of tackling the legacy of colonialism and ecological irresponsibility in an accessible way. Retroactively making some of the phenotypically-whitest animated characters ever into the rulers of a darker-skinned indigenous group and using Rise of Skywalker-level consequencelessness is not a good way of approaching those ideas. The Anderson-Lopez songwriting duo deserves better than this. Read more here and here.
48. The Sword in the Stone
After the incredibly-expensive Sleeping Beauty underperformed at the box office, Disney opted to make its next string of films on a much smaller budget. One Hundred and One Dalmatians cleverly disguised the cheapening of its animation behind a fantastic aesthetic, but this film tries to recreate the style of older, higher-budgeted films, and falls flat on its face. The animation looks like an unfinished version of the studio’s more elegant fantasy films, and the character designs are among the studio’s worst. And there’s not enough plot to fill 80 minutes — it feels like this concept would have made a better short than feature. Aside from some inventive magical slapstick, there’s very little of note here. Read more here.
47. Zootopia
“Anyone can be anything” is a solid message. “Certain beings are naturally predisposed toward savage violence, but you should overcome your justified prejudice and allow them into society” is not. The movie is way better when it leans toward the former instead of the latter. Zootopia’s worldbuilding is superb, and exploring the city through a detective story is a great idea. I wish that the mystery was a little smaller in scale, without the blatant, hamfisted moralizing about being tolerant of scary minorities. A standard missing person’s case would be fine! We don’t need a citywide conspiracy! Read more here.
46. Treasure Planet
It’s insane that Disney sank its biggest-ever budget for a traditionally-animated movie into these disgusting character designs and a couple of unfitting Goo Goo Dolls songs. The rough computer animation clashes with the hand-drawn art and ends up feeling both overcrowded and empty. “Treasure Island in space” is a pretty solid premise, and the broad narrative and character strokes here are pretty good, but the story is stretched too thin. This movie sorely lacks the spark that sets better Disney films apart from the middling ones like this. Read more here.
45. Frozen
I adored this movie the first few times I saw it, but soured to it on this year’s rewatch. I don’t think that movies like this will ever be held in the same regard as their Renaissance counterparts because of their incessant jokey dialogue. They’re pretty good when they take themselves seriously, but their earnest moments are few and far between. Anna is a thinly-sketched character who encapsulates the insufferable early-2010s “relatable” humor: she says things like “so…that happened” when falling off a cliff and constantly puts her foot in her mouth without an ounce of cleverness to the dialogue. Elsa, on the other hand, is a stellar co-protagonist, with goals and struggles that set her apart from the rest of the Disney’s princesses. She’s the standout character because she’s the only person in the movie that fully takes her responsibilities — and herself — completely seriously. And, despite its oversaturation, “Let It Go” remains the best song in a movie full of great ones, not only because of its insanely catchy melody, but because it’s essential to the film’s most resonant character arc. I do appreciate the film’s subversions of the typical princess tropes — the evil love interest and the strength of sisterly love are both very welcome spins on the formula. I just wish the story containing those elements was a little more streamlined and earnest. Read more here.
44. Pocahontas
This movie hits pretty much all the standard Disney tropes to mediocre effect: there’s a blandly likable princess, a conflict-riddled romance, tons of below-average songs, and three animal sidekicks, plus all the friendly woodland creatures imaginable. It’s also completely historically irresponsible, taking grim real events with even grimmer implications (seriously, read the historical accuracy tab on the movie’s Wikipedia page) and converts them into kid-friendly entertainment. And as egregious as the historical inaccuracies are, the tone somehow manages to be worse. Pocahontas effectively gives European imperialism the “both sides” treatment, as it frames indigenous Americans’ fear of invaders as a moral equivalent to the murderous racism of the colonizers. The film does attempt to critique the methods of colonization (embodied by the ridiculous villain), but it never treats colonization itself as wrong. The one saving grace is the vibrant animation, which is absolutely stunning, and ranks among the studio’s best-ever visual work. Read more here.
43. Mulan
This is a strange, scattered collection of disparate elements that never tie together. Somehow, its incredibly loose story took thirty-two (!!!!!) writers to throw it together, which is indicative of its lack of unifying vision.The core of Mulan is a subpar (and incredibly stereotypical) tale about honor and family told through the lens of a pretty standard war movie — most of the middle act takes place during training camp and in transit to a battle. The characters don’t really connect or develop during this period, despite the unquestionably excellent “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” number, which effectively distracts from lazy montaging with one of the greatest Disney songs ever written. The rest of the music doesn’t quite fit with the relatively-serious tone of the movie –– nor does the broad comedy that comes in the form of Mushu and the military sidekicks. Meanwhile, the villain is aggressively bland and disconnected from the rest of the movie. And to fit all these distinct tones and elements together, the animators settle for a relatively neutral aesthetic that rarely amazes — it merely gets the job done. The overall movie feels like a messy collection of half-baked ideas that lack the time and attention to develop into much of anything at all. Read more here.
42. Atlantis: The Lost Empire
This oft-forgotten adventure outing boasts stunning designs and intriguing concepts that are let down by a narrative stuffed with too much lore and far too many characters. The expedition crew is twice the size it should be, and half of the characters are failed comic relief. The sheer size of the cast means that the filmmakers can’t flesh out any of the players to the extent that they should, especially in a 95-minute movie. It’s also a pretty egregious example of a white savior narrative –– sure, Milo is a likable guy, and it’s nice to see a gentle academic at the center of an adventure, but it’s odd to create such a rich fantasy landscape and focus on an American expedition instead of…the people living in that landscape. Read more here.
41. The Rescuers
This movie absolutely rules when it explores its tiny mouse world and throws its heroes into big, real-world environments. The mouse UN is fun, and the albatross airport is similarly charming. It falters when the mice aren’t on screen — the villains are laughably one-note, the other anthropomorphic animals are grating, and Penny, the human girl at the center of the conflict, doesn’t have much to do. Plus, the animation seems way cheaper and less kinetic than most preceding films, and music choices have never felt less connected to the actual story of a Disney movie. Why would a rescue mission/treasure hunt call for somber singer-songwriter tunes? Read more here.
40. Meet the Robinsons
There’s so much going on in this sci-fi oddity — it overflows with whimsical characters, creative inventions, and cartoony designs — that it might have been better suited to a TV series instead of a one-off movie. The optimism of its retrofuturist world and perseverant messaging are both easy to love, and more jokes land than in the preceding several Disney movies. But the movie is so overwhelmed by gadgets and gizmos that it can’t successfully tell its story. The time travel rules are so nonsensical and contradictory that they make Back to the Future look like a quantum physics textbook — which wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, but the entire story hinges on those paradoxical mechanics. It’s incredibly fun for kids (I loved it in third grade!), but too rushed and inconsistent to hold up for adults. Read more here.
39. Saludos Amigos
This early package film is only forty minutes, but was still a theatrical release, and is considered a feature film. It’s four animated segments broken up by some fascinating (if problematically US-focused) live-action documentary footage. Three of the four segments have fine animation but are quite forgettable and pretty racist. But the final segment (“Aquarela do Brasil”) is fantastic and totally worth tracking down on YouTube (see above). Read more here.
38. Lady and the Tramp
This movie maintains a pleasant, relaxing atmosphere for most of its duration, and “Bella Notte” is a pretty great song. But almost nothing actually happens in this movie. The characters aren’t memorable, the story is scattered, and the main conflict doesn’t really resolve. The animation here looks a lot shoddier than in previous films, too — the characters feel much more disconnected from the backgrounds and objects than in prior movies. And somehow, Disney still manages to insert overt racism into a movie that has almost no human characters. Read more here.
37. Melody Time
This one finds a nice balance and rhythm in its seven segments that most of the other Disney package films never attain. Seven is the perfect number of sequences for this format — Make Mine Music’s ten felt crowded, and Fun and Fancy Free’s two struggled to justify their length. The first three segments here possess their own distinct charms — “Once Upon a Wintertime” features elegant art from Mary Blair (who also contributed to the “It’s a Small World” Disneyland ride), “Bumble Boogie” boasts colorful surrealism that rivals Fantasia, and “The Legend of Johnny Appleseed” tells a good-natured American folktale with warm visuals. Unfortunately, the latter half of the film isn’t as strong. Save for “Blame It on the Samba,” the remaining shorts lack the strong visual identity and creative storytelling of the first half. Read more here.
36. The Three Caballeros
This is easily one of the most troublesome pieces in the Disney canon. Although it’s a package film, its artistry is undeniable –– it’s unbelievably colorful and energetic, employing a number of new animation styles and, for the first time on this scale, marrying live action with cartoons. But all that dynamic creativity is wrapped in incredibly shaky cultural depictions. It’s essentially an animated tour through Latin America, and the film takes care to not treat the entire region as a monolith –– almost every segment takes place in a different country, and the movie makes the distinctions pretty clear –– but it’s also prone to reduce each culture to basic stereotypes. Read more here.
35. Brother Bear
Vibrant animation and solid music prevent this film from joining the disappointingly large group of 2000s Disney movies that don’t really work on the whole. The landscapes look like moving paintings, the colors pop more than anything since Pocahontas, and the stylized integration of computer animation has never looked more seamless. Phil Collins’ soundtrack contributions are just as mighty as his work in Tarzan. The movie teases glimpses of thematic brilliance when it emphasizes the tenuous dynamic between Kenai, Koda, and Denahi, which is fraught with betrayal and tragic misunderstanding. Sadly, the character arcs fall into a classic Disney trap: rather than actually diving into the protagonists’ respective progressions, the filmmakers use vague montages as a crutch, subsequently making developments feel rushed, unearned, and illogical. Read more here.
34. The Rescuers Down Under
Disney’s first theatrical animated sequel marks a massive step up in animation technique, as the artists complicate their work by emulating live-action camera movement — in the opening sequence, objects shift in and out of focus, and the animators approach the scene from unusually dynamic angles. The lines between foreground and background are ingeniously blurred, allowing for increasingly dynamic movement. The story and characters don’t stack up to the animation, though — odd pacing and scattered plotting both ensure that this film simultaneously feels too long and not long enough. It’s odd that a story this simple still seems pretty unfocused and incomplete. The overall movie is definitely a step up from the original due to its animation alone, but the generic, messy story prevents it from really shining. Read more here.
33. Tarzan
Some of Disney’s most striking hand-drawn animation coupled with the stellar Phil Collins soundtrack — yeah, it’s corny, but so is almost everything Disney’s ever made — makes for a selectively entertaining experience. But the music isn’t well-integrated into the story at all, and anytime it stops and the characters open their mouths, the movie comes to a screeching halt. The plot is so loose that it’s almost non-existent, the characters are underdeveloped, and the romance is completely unconvincing. This leads me to believe that Tarzan would genuinely be better with no dialogue whatsoever. Most of the actual storytelling happens through insanely-paced montaging anyway. Just give me sixty minutes of a gorgeously-animated Phil Collins visual album. Read more here.
32. The Black Cauldron
This lesser-known fantasy film feels like the first “modern” Disney movie. It has higher quality animation than the studio’s previous twenty years of films, with new techniques that allow for more complicated movement between foreground and background. It’s also one of the company’s first features without any shoehorned original songs. And, at least on Disney Plus, it’s the first animated movie with the classic castle logo. The difference between this and the preceding movie, The Fox and the Hound, is one of the sharpest contrasts between two consecutive Disney movies. It’s odd that this new era kicked off with such an underwhelming movie with almost zero lasting cultural impact. Enjoyable animation enhances a thin, generic fantasy story with forgettable main characters. Read more here.
31. Wreck-It Ralph
I acknowledge that this is not how film production works, but it really feels as though Pixar Disney Animation Studios should have swapped 2012 projects. Neither movie lived up to its potential — Brave would have benefited greatly from some of Disney’s signature magic, and Wreck-It Ralph would have fared much better with Pixar’s touch. The movie seems like a perfect movie for that studio: it features an unlikely duo with an emotional bond in a fascinating hidden world. Disney’s version of the movie works well enough, but feels like an early draft of a better film. It doesn’t explore the interconnected video game world as thoroughly as it ought to, and the emotional through-line feels heavy-handed due to unnecessary narration. I adore the voice acting here — John C. Reilly has made a career playing big softies with an edge, so he’s perfect for the titular character, while Sarah Silverman nails the sweetly annoying kid part, and Alan Tudyk is unrecognizable behind his villainous spin on the laughing uncle from Mary Poppins. Read more here.
30. Ralph Breaks the Internet
Despite the fact that this film stuffs its web-based world full of lazy humor and corporate-synergetic shenanigans — and looks especially weak when considering the underexplored gaming landscape of the original movie — the 2018 sequel still delivers a surprisingly nuanced thesis. Ralph serves as a refreshing reminder that people don’t have to share the same dream — or hang out in the same space every day — to remain meaningful friends. The strength of that central idea, which also warns against projecting personal insecurities onto your loved ones, makes up for the messiness of the plotting and the over-reliance on low-hanging comedic fruit. And it’s nice to have Alan Menken back in the fold, even if it’s just for one song. Read more here.
29. Tangled
The Shrekification of Disney did not yield many great animated movies — the ogre’s success presumably led the studio to mandate more forced humor into its films and adopt the far-uglier computer animation technique — but this one is pretty solid, thanks to some heavy lifting from Alan Menken. “I See the Light” is an all-time great Disney sequence, with an unabashedly romantic melody and beautiful animation, proving that this studio (and this movie) is best when it allows itself to be earnest. The central romance works well when it takes itself seriously, and feels believable by the conclusion because of the aforementioned song, but it suffers when it leans into cheap humor — which happens way too frequently. A more serious, hand-drawn version of this movie might rival the company’s best Renaissance work. Read more here.
28. Dumbo
The “Pink Elephants on Parade” sequence, the opening, and “Baby Mine” are top tier Disney, and this movie is mercifully brief. But the animation is a step down from the studio’s previous endeavors, and the overt racism prevalent in multiple scenes (not just the crows, somehow!) make it impossible to praise this movie without massive hesitation.
27. Hercules
This movie exists better in the minds of people who watched it as kids than it does in reality. The music and the muses are exceptionally good, and the dynamic animation sets it apart from even the stronger Disney entries of the Renaissance era. But the characters are way more annoying and cookie-cutter than I remembered, and most of the actual story is depicted in montages or completely off-screen. As a result, Hercules moves too quickly for its own good, and feels more like a rough draft of a great story than a finished product.
26. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
This movie must have been absolutely mind-blowing when it came out in 1937. It isn’t today. It’s a celebration of color, movement, and music on a scale that had never been achieved in animation before. But almost nothing happens in this movie — it’s barely a narrative, especially compared to the later animated movies it inspired. Snow White is an impressive artistic and technological achievement with enough charm to warrant one viewing, but doesn’t hold a candle to later Disney films. Read more here.
25. The Princess and the Frog
Disney’s return to traditional animation looks magnificent, especially in the scenes when the artists get to experiment — the art deco stylings of “Almost There” and the vibrant spiritual explosions of Dr. Facilier’s scenes stand among the studio’s most inventive visual sequences. Randy Newman’s jazzy compositions also serve the movie well, although they don’t quite reach the heights of other princesses’ soundtracks. And the characters have enough charm to keep the movie afloat even in its weakest moments. But the overall project feels too short, despite the fact that it’s longer than most of the studio’s previous animated endeavors. We don’t get a clear sense of the villain’s motivations beyond “money,” and, even more egregiously, the central couple never quite clicks romantically. Both Tiana and Naveen are relatively well-realized characters, but their shift from reluctant co-adventurers to soulmates feels abrupt and unearned. Read more here.
24. The Emperor’s New Groove
A well-executed but unexceptional road trip movie, The Emperor’s New Groove prioritizes humor over Disney’s typical romanticism. Strangely, the movie doesn’t really exploit Kuzco and Pacha’s reluctant odd-couple dynamic for many laughs — instead, most of the comedy comes from high-energy slapstick and an infinitely superior mismatch, Yzma and Kronk, who seem even better because of the main pair’s simplicity. The Inca-inspired designs are striking and refreshingly unique-looking for a Disney movie, and the working class sympathies of the narrative make it easy to like. If the central duo was more pointedly funny, I think that people would widely recognize this movie as one of Disney’s very best. But the storytellers opt to focus more on their incredibly basic character arcs, which are kinda difficult to invest in, given David Spade’s irritatingly smug performance as Kuzco. As a result, the overall project feels stuck in the realm of pretty good — which is a shame, because it could have been great. Read more here.
23. Pinocchio
Disney’s second-ever animated feature has a lot going on. The animation studio’s technological ability and ambition had both clearly increased between Snow White and this — I think there’s more individual characters in Pinocchio’s first fifteen minutes than in all of predecessor, and the same goes for location changes, too. This movie never fails to be visually engaging.The story, on the other hand, tries too hard to do too many things at once, and consequently doesn’t do any of them particularly well. It simultaneously attempts to be a coming-of-age tale, a reflection on what it means to be human, an Odyssean adventure, a Dickensian critique of child abuse and labor exploitation, and a fairy tale. Obviously, this is a kids’ movie, so it was never going to be particularly nuanced or complex in any of these attempts, but there’s just too much going on for any of it to stick the landing. Read more here.
22. The Jungle Book
This movie sounds amazing, with some wonderful songs and one of the best voice casts in animation history. Baloo, Bagheera, Shere Khan, Kaa, and King Louie are all so perfectly voiced that it’s impossible to imagine the characters sounding any other way. The actors’ voices match perfectly with the characters’ designs. Aside from the stellar sonic palette, Jungle Book is pretty mediocre. The middling animation pales in comparison to previous Disney efforts, and the plot meanders for most of the run time, perhaps due to Kipling’s source book. Very charming and watchable, but average by Disney standards. Read more here.
21. Cinderella
When this movie focuses on its titular heroine, it’s one of Disney’s most elegant films. The rich animation peaks with her meet-cute with the Prince — their movements, presumably modeled after real-life performers, feel more human and natural than anything the studio had animated up until that point. And every song associated with the character is memorably lovely. But, by my estimations, Cinderella only appears in about one third of her 75 minute movie, leaving the other 50 minutes to annoying side characters. It may be heretical to say this, but the mice are practically proto-Minions, and their hijinks feel excruciatingly drawn-out. Read more here.
20. The Great Mouse Detective
Super fun take on Sherlock Holmes with a great villain. The musical numbers are completely unnecessary and out of place, and the mystery comes off as a little forced, but almost every scene has enough charming miniature details and Sherlocky jokes to remain consistently engaging. Pretty weird that the mouse version of the U.K. is still an absolute monarchy, though. Read more here.
19. The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad
The last of Disney’s ‘40s package films might be the best one. Ichabod and Mr. Toad has two segments — both around 30 minutes, and both pretty fun. The “Wind in the Willows” short has charming character designs and stellar cartoon action sequences, the best of which expertly utilizes a secret revolving door. It works as a moral fable about greed and obsession, and propagates a surprisingly grim outlook on human nature. Meanwhile, the “Sleepy Hollow” segment uses gorgeous landscapes and an excellently spooky chase sequence to bring Washington Irving’s story to life. In many ways, it serves as a proto-Beauty and the Beast — Ichabod is a bookish outsider who confuses the townspeople, and there’s a jocky character that looks a lot like Gaston. The pacing on this one is a little weird, and Bing Crosby’s narration isn’t particularly fitting for the material, but it remains a zippy short that’s perfect for Halloween viewing. Read more here.
18. Big Hero 6
A simple, effective superhero story with a ton of heart, this movie easily ranks among Disney animation’s finest work of the last twenty years. It hits familiar comic book movie beats with creative execution, using the animated medium to craft dazzling action setpieces, unique superpowers, and a fascinating setting. Of course, all this would amount to nothing without the film’s strong emotional core, which emphasizes the importance of biological and adopted family. Almost every character is likable, memorable, and funny without feeling overbearing or forced. The pacing is a little iffy at times, especially as it barrels toward its final battle, but its charming details far outweigh its hasty, broad narrative tropes. Read more here.
17. Peter Pan
This has enough wonderful elements to outweigh its sins — the score is one of Disney’s best, the animation is dynamic, the worldbuilding rules, and it’s thematically tight — but it has so many bad moments that I can’t call it great without heavy qualification. I loved the world of this movie because it has everything that I loved — pirates, mermaids, fairies, flying, and exploration –– and I like it now because of its thematic fixation on the passage of time (which I wrote about more extensively here). Sadly, it’s one of Disney’s most egregiously racist and sexist films. Some may argue that the racism and sexism presented in the film are intended to reflect the oversimplified views of society that most children possess. While there may be a partial motivation for the offensive content in Disney’s version of Barrie’s story, I don’t think it’s a satisfactory excuse. Barrie might as well have made the indigenous characters fantastical creatures, because their presence in the story is only to serve as an “exotic” threat that eventually allies with the main characters.
16. The Lion King
Disney’s animators exhibit some of their finest craftsmanship here, with unprecedented detail in lighting, depth of field, and motion. They utilize each musical number as an opportunity for experimentation, with surreal designs and heightened colors that give every song a distinct visual flavor. And the music itself is phenomenal — the songs from Elton John and Tim Rice strike an appropriate balance of fun and grandeur, and Hans Zimmer’s score is one of the most epic in film history. The only problem with this movie is its thematic arc: Mufasa and Simba uphold a repressive social order that marginalizes entire breeds of animals, and the movie further twists the knife by villainizing these animals (not to mention mocking their disabilities). The circle of life is a beautiful theme when applied to families and the passage of time, but it’s reprehensible when used to justify oppression. Read more here.
15. Fantasia 2000
The “Rhapsody in Blue” segment is one of the best Disney sequences ever, and several other pieces serve as worthy additions to the overall Fantasia project. This follow-up focuses far more on narrative and character than on the abstract artistry of its predecessor, which isn’t inherently a bad thing, but makes it look a lot safer by comparison. I wish each segment was twice as long, because the sheer length of the original Fantasia allowed for more creative embellishments that helped produce a hypnotic energy that this movie sadly lacks. Still, I’m fully on board with the concept of animating classical music to create a new type of moviegoing experience — it’s undoubtedly the most artistically ambitious idea that Disney has ever pursued, and I’ll be first in line for any potential follow-up. Read more here.
14. Winnie the Pooh
Disney’s final piece of traditional animation is one of the studio’s best of the last twenty years. The animators return to the soft storybook style that made The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, playing even more with the pages on screen. Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez channel the warm bounce of the Sherman Brothers to create timeless musical numbers — which also provide creative avenues for experimental animation styles. Like its 1970s predecessor, this Pooh also thrives off of its nearly-nonexistent conflict, instead offering a pleasantly gentle hour of charming humor and carefree joy. It’s surprisingly short and unbelievably sweet. Read more here.
13. Robin Hood
A warm, breezy movie with super likable characters and a great introduction to wealth redistribution. Aside from some very spotty pacing (it’s basically broken into three or four episodes), Robin Hood is a near-perfect animated adventure. It’s not overly thoughtful or heartfelt, but it maintains high levels of energy and fun that most Disney films never achieve. Its strange mix of folk songs and showtunes works in its favor, and almost every musical moment is memorable. It also has some of the best action in any Disney movie, and most of the humor holds up. Read more here.
12. The Hunchback of Notre Dame
So moving and thematically mature that I’m not entirely confident that kids would enjoy this one. Hunchback tells a genuinely great story about self-acceptance and caring for the marginalized, with stellar characters across the board. Quasimodo’s underdog status makes him immediately lovable, and Frollo is a terrifyingly realistic villain — he’s a racist, sexist leader whose repression exacerbates his prejudice. My only complaint is that Menken and Schwartz’s music, while effective, doesn’t hold a candle to earlier Renaissance songs. If this had stronger music, I think it’d be universally regarded as one of the greatest Disney films. Read more here.
11. Bambi
The concept of the circle of life was popularized by The Lion King, but I think this movie actually captures it more completely and compellingly. Here, Disney’s creative team harnesses anthropomorphic animal cartoon tropes to subvert expectations and create a great film about life itself, touching on birth, coming of age, loss, love, and responsibility. Bambi also has environmentalism and love of nature at its core. I’m not sure that this was an intentional choice, but the film so lovingly depicts flora and fauna that it can’t help but serve as a compelling argument in favor of conservation. Read more here.
10. Alice in Wonderland
Dreams are weird. Disparate segments play out with no transitions. Surreal new laws of physics and social norms are surprising but easily accepted. People shift between warm hospitality and fierce aggression without rhyme or reason. Bizarre landscapes and fantastical creatures abound. This movie nails these aspects of the dreamworld with more precision and creativity than almost any movie I can recall. The ridiculous storytelling and character designs reflect the beautiful madness of our most memorable dreams. That’s not to say the film is unconcerned with reality, though. Just as we can interpret dreams to hold deep symbolic meaning, Alice contains a multitude of fables and details that could speak to real-world problems. For example, the dodo displays the futility of following orders from uninformed elitists, the walrus reflects the greed of the upper class, and the singing flowers embody textbook tribalism. It’s insanely creative. Read more here.
9. The Little Mermaid
Alan Menken and Howard Ashman are arguably the most important contributors to Disney’s films since Walt himself — in fact, they might even surpass him in their impact on the company. The songwriting duo single-handedly elevated the studio’s films from serviceable fantasy-adventures to bona-fide magical classics by bringing Broadway sensibilities via timeless melodies and lyrics. The Little Mermaid is their first full-on collaboration with Disney, and without the songs, I’m not sure this film would be fondly remembered, or even remembered at all — the animation, story, and characters are all good, but only a little better than preceding Disney movies. But the songs and score (especially “Part of Your World”) bring this movie to an entirely new level. Read more here.
8. Beauty and the Beast
This definitely deserves recognition as the magnum opus of one of cinema’s greatest composers, as Alan Menken’s work in this movie ranks among the very best music in film history. Phenomenal lyrics from the tragically short-lived Howard Ashman ensure poetry and character development in every song, and the music itself is operatic, epic, funny, beautiful, and occasionally haunting. Though other films may have singular songs that are better than Beauty and the Beast’s best, I’m fully convinced that this movie has the greatest all-around soundtrack in Disney’s history (and there’s a lot of competition!). The story, on the other hand, can’t match the sheer artistry. The overall conceit relies on strange scenarios that don’t make much sense if you think about them for too long (why does the Beast imprison Maurice? Why doesn’t anyone know about the castle?). And the film’s moral framework is a truly bizarre mishmash of conflicting ideals. Belle is an empowered protagonist who actively saves her father, thus putting her ahead of basically every preceding princess, but then she’s reduced to a directionless puppet at the mercy of the men in the story. Read more here.
7. One Hundred and One Dalmatians
After a string of expensive projects, Disney opted to try a cheaper, rough-around-the-edges aesthetic that lies somewhere between fashion sketches and a picture book. Dalmatians is always visually engaging, aside from a few generic character designs for supporting players. The story also takes a more low-key approach, presenting a very straightforward rom-com followed by an exciting rescue mission that speaks to the power of community. It’s brisk, sweet, and good-natured. Plus, Cruella de Vil is an all-time great Disney villain and an all-time great Disney song. The only issue is the “Dalmatian Plantation” song, which is both conceptually and musically awful. Read more here.
6. Aladdin
For sheer entertainment value, Aladdin belongs at the number one spot. This is a nearly perfect movie with fantastic music from Menken and Ashman (and Tim Rice), excellent pacing, likable characters, gorgeous animation, compelling romance, and hilarious humor. Robin Williams’ manic performance as the Genie is perhaps the greatest voice performance in American animation history, and his sheer creative energy drives the animation department into unprecedented territory. It’s the rare film that attempts to be everything –– action-adventure, fantasy, romance, musical –– and succeeds at all of it. Its issues, however, are broad and far-reaching –– it’s a prime example of an American corporate machine, consisting almost exclusively of white male creators and businessmen, appropriating another culture’s myth and aesthetics, then pumping it full of negative stereotypes, and converting it into a lucrative piece of escapism for the masses. Read more here.
5. Moana
This is undoubtedly the studio’s best computer-animated movie to date — it’s arguably the first of their features to justify the move away from hand-drawn animation, thanks to its stunning water effects and lush island scenery. I don’t think the lighting and texture of these visuals would be possible in traditional animation. Lin-Manuel Miranda, Opetaia Foa’i, and Mark Mancina provide a perfect mix of fun and emotional musical numbers, which the animators use as a springboard for rich visual experimentation. And there are a couple of great action sequences, one of which playfully echoes Mad Max: Fury Road. The movie ensures that the audience immediately and consistently sympathizes with its titular character: it introduces her as a ridiculously cute toddler, then gives her a refreshing heroic arc with no true antagonist, no love interest, and no reservations about sacrificing for her people. The movie only suffers when it occasionally indulges in the “quirky” modernized dialogue that plagues so many other kids’ movies, presumably for humor — lines like “I just did that” and “I…did not see that coming” feel drastically out of place coming from the central characters, as they detract from the general earnestness of the movie’s tone. But it’s a wonderful movie overall, and I hope Disney makes more movies with a similarly beautiful simplicity. Read more here.
4. Sleeping Beauty
From an animation standpoint, this movie looks more crisp, decadent, and modern than anything the studio produced before, and its sheer artistry hasn’t been matched since. Eyvind Earle’s gothic influence fills every frame of Sleeping Beauty with exquisite detail. Aside from the classically cartoony trio of fairies, the characters and backgrounds take a more elegant, stylized approach to design. The forest dance sequence and the final dragon battle are two of the most visually beautiful scenes in animation history, and the rest of the movie looks amazing, too.
The only problem: the story and character work isn’t nearly as strong as the animation, though. Aside from the prologue, the whole movie takes place over the course of one day, which makes almost every event seem somewhat unbelievable or unimportant. Read more here.
3. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh
Perhaps the purest movie ever made. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh charmingly embraces its storybook roots with illustration-like animation, fourth-wall breaks, and distinct chapters of narrative. That’s not to say that it’s inconsistent or incoherent, though. Although the chapters are only loosely connected, they all concern similar themes — facing your fears, helping your neighbor, and the importance of friendship. The characters are insanely sweet, and the uplifting music matches that sweetness; meanwhile the conflict is so low-key that it barely even registers as conflict at all, resulting in a warm, relaxing rainy-day movie that anyone with a heart should enjoy. Read more here.
2. Lilo and Stitch
Disney’s most emotionally affecting movie, probably because it’s one of the only ones about normal people. It’s brilliantly character-focused, as the main conflict is the struggle to keep a family together under dire, real-world circumstances. It’s pretty rare for a Disney movie to contain a cast of characters who all try to do the right thing, with no traditional villains. The family drama works because, at its core, its conflict is rooted in reality, and the characters are flawed, but easy to invest in. Lilo is a phenomenally well-rounded protagonist who actually feels like a real kid, and Nani serves as a perfect contrast — a well-meaning young woman who’s in over her head and struggling to hold it together. The sci-fi adventure elements involving Stitch also rule, with great action sequences and fascinating creature designs. The two distinct threads complement each other bizarrely well, perfectly balancing broad kid-friendly humor and emotional drama. And the visual aesthetic nicely combines nontraditional character designs with gorgeous watercolor backgrounds and well-integrated computer animation. It’s beautiful, perfectly paced, and deeply human. Read more here.
1. Fantasia
Undoubtedly Disney’s most artistically ambitious and experimental project. Its wordlessness and focus on abstraction places it beyond any of the company’s other features. Fantasia emphasizes and perfects the most basic elements of art — sound, shape, color, and motion — to push the entire animated medium forward. This movie drew me into a relaxing yet deeply engaging trance in the first ten minutes that didn’t let up until the conclusion. It’s a beautiful embodiment of raw creativity in action, and I wish Disney (or any major studio) had the guts to produce something as risky and artistically-minded as this today. Read more here.
Wow. Just WOW. Really, really well done.
And somehow, I knew what #1 would be. Now I’m going to watch a whole buncha these!!! Thanks, Wes.