The popularity of direct-to-video releases tempted Disney Studios, and Disney succumbed. The plethora of direct-to-video sequels to the classic Disney animated features is a deplorable cheapening of these (mostly) great films.

In 1990, the theatrical release of "The Rescuers Down Under" made history: it was then the only sequel Disney had made to any of its animated films. Because it was the sequel to a comparatively obscure and not so spectacular movie, and because the sequel was done with the artistry and budget befitting a theatrical release, this was not a bad move. In fact, I like "The Rescuers Down Under" better than the original, which was made at a low point in the history of Disney animation: a miserly budget and retreaded slapstick date it badly. The sequel, on the other hand, was riding the wave of "The Little Mermaid," which in 1989 singlehandedly revived the popularity of Disney animation.

But once the sequel rule was broken once, it was bound to be broken again. "The Return of Jafar" was the next concession. It was a sequel to a new movie, which is much more acceptable than fabricating a sequel to a decades-old classic, and it reassembled the original vocal talents, most notably Robin Williams whose Genie character made instant history.

Then we get another Aladdin sequel, this time without Robin Williams. Then we get another video sequel to another new Disney movie, and eventually they pick on the should-have-been-untouchable "Beauty and the Beast," and suddenly there are video sequels to all the recent crop of Disney movies. And then they start working on older ones, too.

Around the mid-nineties, when copies of "The Little Mermaid" and "The Beauty and the Beast" and "The Lion King" were found in every home, and the obvious effort and care that went into making these features, I bemoaned the fact that Walt Disney was not around to see what would become of his studio some thirty years after his death. Technological advances had made it possible to put stunningly effective dramatic images into animated films. Walt Disney was my kind of guy. He had a great appreciation for artistry and fairy tale and the little touches of fantasy and magic that define the ideals of childhood -- and he was a geek, too, with his giddy delight at playing around with new technology. He'd have loved to see something like "Beauty and the Beast," which retains every bit of the charm and magic of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" and "Cinderella" and makes a judicious use of technology to bring the story to the screen all the more vividly.

Now I'm rather glad he's not around to see things now. Cheap, sullying video knockoffs litter the shelves at an alarming rate, exploiting parents and children everywhere by applying its name to commercial trash and trusting in the public to suck up whatever they produce. I don't view history with rose colored glasses. I know Walt Disney was a shrewd businessman who understood how to sell what his studio produced and make money. But there's a difference between Disney, the man, and Disney, the modern empire. Disney, the man, was genuine, however much of a negative light revisionist history would like to paint him in. He and his team of animators DID make "Snow White" in spite of everyone projecting critical and financial doom. It IS a genuinely magical film, not an exploitative product of commercialism, and Disney and his miraculously talented animators went on to EARN every bit of the money they raked in for their efforts. Disney, the modern empire? Coasting on a dead man's well-deserved legacy.

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame" was the last Disney animated film that I thought was truly inspired. I liked "Hercules" and "Mulan," but they aren't inspired. They're craft, not art, and as such it's only a matter of time before the formula becomes too stale to stomach. Unless *somebody* in that great big studio finds a way to be creative again. In any case, I suppose the deluge of direct-to-video refuse is unstoppable now.