In 1929, as Mickey Mouse was rapidly becoming a global phenomenon, Walt Disney and his studio took a bold step beyond simple character-driven gags. They ventured into a new territory of animation that would intertwine music and visuals in unprecedented ways. This innovative series was christened Silly Symphonies, and its inaugural entry, The Skeleton Dance, directed by Walt Disney and animated entirely by Ub Iwerks, was nothing short of revolutionary. This short cartoon not only cemented Disney’s position as an animation innovator but also laid the foundation for many techniques still employed in animation and film scoring today.
From Kansas City to Skeletons: The Genesis of an Idea
To understand the significance of The Skeleton Dance, it’s important to look at the context from which it emerged. Walt Disney’s journey began in Kansas City, where he honed his skills creating advertising films. The breakthrough moment arrived with Mickey Mouse in 1928 and Steamboat Willie. While not the first cartoon with synchronized sound, Steamboat Willie demonstrated a new level of sophistication, captivating audiences and signaling a shift in animation.
However, even with Mickey’s success, Disney sought to push the boundaries further. It was Carl W. Stalling, a fellow Missourian and Disney’s composer, who sparked the idea for Silly Symphonies. Stalling, a former theater organist from Kansas City’s Isis Theater, envisioned animation where music wasn’t just an accompaniment, but the driving force. This concept of “animation as choreography” was a significant departure from the gag-centric cartoons of the era, many of which were still emulating the style of Felix the Cat, the reigning cartoon superstar. Disney was immediately enthralled by Stalling’s vision. As he wrote to his brother Roy, “Carl’s idea of the ‘Skeleton Dance’ for a Musical Novelty has been growing on me.”
Dancing with the Macabre: Influences and Inspirations
The eerie and captivating imagery of The Skeleton Dance is deeply rooted in the medieval European tradition of La danse macabre (the Dance of Death). This allegory, representing the universality of death, had permeated art and performance for centuries. From morality plays to puppet shows, skeletons dancing and cavorting served as a potent reminder of mortality and the ephemeral nature of life. Even before Disney, cinematic interpretations of this theme existed, including an 1897 film by American Mutoscope Company featuring a costumed dancer and a marionette version filmed by Thomas Edison’s company the following year. Stalling himself recalled being fascinated as a child by an advertisement for a dancing skeleton puppet, illustrating the cultural pervasiveness of this imagery.
Ub Iwerks, the animation genius who single-handedly brought The Skeleton Dance to life, masterfully transformed potentially gruesome imagery into something comical and entertaining. Instead of being frightening, Iwerks’ skeletons are whimsical, mischievous, and full of playful energy. This comedic approach was crucial in making the macabre theme palatable for a wider audience and aligning it with the lighthearted spirit of the Silly Symphonies.
A Symphony in Motion: The Innovation of Music-Driven Animation
The true genius of The Skeleton Dance lies in its pioneering approach to synchronized sound and animation. Unlike previous cartoons where music was often added as an afterthought, here, the music and animation were conceived and executed in perfect harmony. Carl Stalling composed the score before Iwerks began animating. This reversal of the traditional process allowed Iwerks to animate directly to the rhythm and melody, creating a seamless and dynamic interplay between the visual and auditory elements.
A scene from Disney’s “The Skeleton Dance” (1929), showcasing the whimsical and comical depiction of skeletons dancing in a graveyard setting.
Stalling, with his background as a film accompanist, was already adept at synchronizing music to film. Now, he was in a position to dictate the rhythm and tempo to which the animation would move. This marked a significant step forward in animation technique.
Wilfred Jackson, another animator at Disney, had already experimented with rhythm in Steamboat Willie, developing a system of animating to a timed rhythm using a bouncing ball on the film as a visual guide. Stalling took this concept even further. He introduced the “click track,” a metronomic rhythm delivered to musicians through headphones, perfectly synchronized with the visual rhythm used by animators. This invention, born out of the needs of The Skeleton Dance, became a standard tool in film scoring and remains in use today for achieving precise synchronization between music and visuals.
The musical score itself for The Skeleton Dance is a delightful pastiche, primarily built around refrains from Edvard Grieg’s “March of the Dwarfs.” This classical piece, with its playful and slightly eerie quality, perfectly complements the on-screen antics of the skeletons. This approach of incorporating classical music and popular tunes became a hallmark of Stalling’s scoring style, not only for Silly Symphonies like Hell’s Bells (which used Mendelssohn and more Grieg) but also later for the iconic Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons at Warner Bros. In this way, Stalling inadvertently introduced generations of Americans to classical music through the medium of animation.
A Skeleton’s Leap to Success and Lasting Legacy
The premiere of The Skeleton Dance alongside first-run feature films in major cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York was a resounding success. This positive reception led to a crucial nationwide distribution deal with Columbia Pictures for Disney. The first Silly Symphony went into general release in September 1929, marking a turning point for Disney’s studio.
Skeletons in “The Skeleton Dance” creatively use their own bones as musical instruments, highlighting the film’s innovative integration of music and animation.
Coming after early business setbacks, including the bankruptcy of his first company Laugh-O-gram Films and the loss of rights to his character Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, the success of The Skeleton Dance and the Silly Symphonies was particularly significant for Disney. He had learned valuable lessons about intellectual property and the importance of maintaining creative control. Even the departures of key collaborators like Iwerks and Stalling shortly after The Skeleton Dance release couldn’t derail Disney’s momentum. He had Mickey Mouse, a distribution deal, and Silly Symphonies, a series that was pushing animation to new artistic and technical heights.
The Silly Symphonies series continued to innovate, with Flowers and Trees (1932) becoming the first film to utilize the three-strip Technicolor process, and The Ugly Duckling (1931) exploring character development in animation for the first time. By the time the series concluded in 1939, with a color remake of The Ugly Duckling, Disney had proven that animation could be far more than just comedic shorts. It could be art, it could be feature-length storytelling, as demonstrated by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937).
Walt Disney famously said, “It all started with a mouse.” While Mickey Mouse certainly launched his empire, it was the Silly Symphonies, and particularly the groundbreaking Skeleton Dance, that truly paved the way for Disney’s transformation of animation into a genuine art form. These dancing skeletons, along with musical spiders, fighting flowers, and emotional ducklings, demonstrated the boundless possibilities of animation when combined with music, innovation, and a touch of macabre whimsy.
References
Barrier, M. (1999). Hollywood Cartoons: American Animation in Its Golden Age. Oxford University Press.
Canemaker, J. (2005). Walt Disney’s Silly Symphonies: A Companion to Cultural History. Gemstone Press.
Maltin, L. (1987). Of Mice and Magic: A History of American Animated Cartoons. Penguin Books.
