Many focus in like a laser on PINOCCHIO's considerable technical pedigree, and in the process, forget that the real reason we go to the movies isn't to look at the pretty pictures, we go for the experiences. Few of us will ever actually be in outer space, or visit the wreck of the TITANIC, but thanks to the movies, we've been to both of these extreme environs.

Animation has the power to take you anywhere, to show you anything, and with PINOCCHIO, we are taken on a journey across the rooftops of a sleepy Italian village, over the seas to a nightmarish theme park, and finally down into the depths of a dazzling undersea world. We find ourselves in warm homes, in raucous outdoor theaters, in seedy roadside taverns, and we even go into the belly of a whale. Disney combines the on-screen spectacle and technical virtuosity that is the hallmark of the best of his animation with a third quality that has perhaps gone uinmentioned in the discussion of this film. For decades, if you were to talk PINOCCHIO with film enthusuasts and animation gurus, you'd unavoidably find yourself talking about the camerawork, the staging, the wonderful character animation. But there's something else, underneath the spit and polish, that is truly compelling. If you dig a bit deeper, you may be surprised to find that PINOCCHIO is a film that gently explores a fairly profound question -- what does it mean to be human?

PINOCCHIO has always gained high marks because it scores across the board. The quality of the art is of course peerless. The design, the layouts, and the animation are all benchmarks for the medium -- but all of these efforts would be meaningless without the quality of the film's ideas and how these ideas are married to the animated fantasy. Here was a film that attempted through gentle parable to explore some very deep waters -- what does it mean to be human? How do we define the act of becoming a part of the human family? You could ask little more of a soul than to be brave, truthful, and considerate of others, and yet that is precisely what is asked of the little puppet Pinocchio in order to become a "real" human being. To be human, the film suggests, is to conquer fear, to be honest, and to think of others before yourself. When Pinocchio achieves these qualities of character, that's when he earns his human heartbeat.

By extension, because we conscioulsy (or unconsciously) come to see the character of Pinocchio as a metaphor for our own young struggles with morality and ethics, this is the challenge that the film asks of us, as well. I don't care if you are six or sixty, these are concepts that we all struggle with, sometimes on a daily basis, and make no mistake, this is what PINOCCHIO is about.

To its great credit, it is never pedantic. Walt Disney and his artists do a beautiful job of illustrating a child's struggles with these concepts without finger wagging or sage pronouncements. The film is at its best when it is simply presenting us the consequences of Pinocchio's actions as visual metaphors. In the film, from Pinocchio's nose growing to Lampwick's devolution into an animal, the farther away you are as a child from the ideal of humanity, the less physically human you become. The less moral a person you are, the more of an animal you are. Its a terrifying, thrilling and powerful thing to watch.

Animation's greatest strength lies in the way it asks you to participate in what is happening on the screen. Because the characters in an animated film are not real, because they are representational and abstract forms to begin with, animation is inherently more personal than live-action. You are asked to put aside your own knowledge that what you are seeing is not real, and you are asked - like a child - to believe. PINOCCHIO, like the great Japanese animated masterwork GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES, is a psychological attack playing off your own hidden guilts and fears.

For this reason, PINOCCHIO has always been one of the more powerful titles in the Disney library, though not necessarily one of the most popular. It is certainly Disney's "darkest" film, and the lead character is more of a symbol of childhood innocence than a fully realized personality, and while there are certainly a few songs along the way, it is really not a musical. For these reasons, it is not a "warm" film, though it certainly is a emotional one.

It is also Disney's best -- a landmark of the animated fantasy, a film of real substance, and a prime example of the best of the Disney animated art.

um, there were no songs in Treasure Planet.

I don't remember anything about Home of the Brave - Rosanne Barr was terrible, the worst of the bunch IMO Everything that I recall was brash and ugly.