Sometimes, you buy a magazine because of the content. Sometimes, you buy a magazine because of the cover. And a few times, you buy it for both. (But mostly, just for the cover…)
Case in point, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction for March of 1980, which featured cover art by Gahan Wilson.
I’d already been somewhat familiar with his cartoons from The New Yorker, but seeing his unique and immediately identifiable work – in color, as a magazine cover – added an entirely new dimension (well, for me) to his oeuvre.
What stands out within this composition? The deliberately dingy atmosphere depicted by dint of darkly shaded green and gray; the goggle-eyed guy gazing in ghastly terror at his own reflection – from the chromed side of the Brave Little Toaster itself; the retinue of raggedy rats reflecting (ruefully?) on the scene revealed before them.
As indicated at the Visual Index of Science Fiction Cover Art, Wilson completed four covers for The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Aside from the issue below, the other three were featured in March and August of 1968, and, January of 1969. Among all four, I think that the composition shown in “this” post is easily the best.
Well, though I previously knew of the name “Thomas M. Disch”, by 1980, I’d not read any of his stories prior to that time. But (I thought his tale would be on the humorous side from the humor of Wilson’s cover…) I really enjoyed his story. A pure fantasy – not at all science fiction – it’s an upbeat adventure, and surprisingly substantive as well.
Happily, others realized the depth, fun, and merit of Disch’s story, and in 1987, his work was released as an animated film, directed by Jerry Rees. It’s a great adaptation; a little lighter in tone, perhaps, than the written version, but still true to Disch’s original idea. Simply put, the film is delightful, and in visual terms – viewed from the perspective of 2021 – refreshing and relaxing by virtue of having been completed well before (whew!) the advent of sophisticated CGI.
In his film review, Stephen Holden was entirely correct in writing, “Visually the movie has a smooth-flowing momentum and a lush storybook opulence that is miles away from the flat, jerky look of Saturday-morning cartoons. The fable of bored, squabbling playmates who become closer as they voyage into the unknown is unmarred by sentimentality and preachiness. At the same time, it exudes a sweetness and wit that should tickle anyone, regardless of age.”
Here’s Holden’s review, as it appeared in print, in The New York Times on May 31, 1989…
…and, a transcript of the review:
The Odyssey of a Band of Lonely Gadgets
By STEPHEN HOLDEN
It’s wake-up time in an empty mountain cabin, and the first appliance in the house to rouse itself is a jazzy-looking bedside radio that blares out an Al Jolson-style song. The noise quickly wakens the other appliances. The doggy-faced desk lamp flashes on, Kirby, the cranky, growling vacuum cleaner is ready for action, and Blankey, the meek, frightened electric blanket peeps awake. The most optimistic gadget is a toaster with a perky voice, big round eyes and a cute bowed smile. On this particular morning, the toaster tries to organize everyone into doing their usual chores. But without their master to use them, their existence seems lonely and purposeless.
Jerry Rees’s charming animated feature, “The Brave Little Toaster,” tells what happens when the appliances finally band together with a battered old desk chair using an old car battery for power, and embark on a journey to the city to find their master. If the film’s world of talking appliances with distinctive personalities has much in common with Pee-wee Herman’s Playhouse, its tone is more lyrical and dreamy than Mr. Herman’s squeaky, crowded Saturday-morning habitat. Their odyssey from the mountains to the city takes them through a redwood forest, into quicksand and over a waterfall. During the course of their journey, each traveler does something generous and brave, and the bonds between them strengthen.
Once they reach the city and are directed by a friendly traffic light to their master’s apartment, the appliances are dismayed to find themselves superseded by newer, more sophisticated technology. Ruling the apartment is a slick and snooty digital television set. Before their master comes home to find them, they are unceremoniously thrown out the window into a passing garbage truck. Only an act of heroism by the toaster prevents them all from being crushed for scrap in a junkyard.
“The Brave Little Toaster,” which opened a two-week engagement today at the Film Forum, brings one back nostalgically to the age when everyday household objects seemed to have faces and personalities. The screenplay by Mr. Dees and Joe Ranft, based on a novella by Thomas M. Disch, maintains a delightfully informal tone. The appliances are like any pack of kids. In moments of pique along their journey, they snap epithets like “chrome-dome,” “dialface,” and “slot-head” at one another.
Visually the movie has a smooth-flowing momentum and a lush storybook opulence that is miles away from the flat, jerky look of Saturday-morning cartoons. The fable of bored, squabbling playmates who become closer as they voyage into the unknown is unmarred by sentimentality and preachiness. At the same time, it exudes a sweetness and wit that should tickle anyone, regardless of age.
Several Appliances In Search of an Owner
THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER, directed by Jerry Rees; written by Mr. Rees and Joe Ranft, based on a novella by Thomas M. Disch; music by David Newman; produced by Donald Kushner and Thomas L. Wilhite; distributed by Hyperion Entertainment Inc. At Film Forum 1, 57 Watts Street. Running time: 90 minutes. This film has no rating.
Voices by: Jon Lovitz, Tim Stack, Timothy Day and Thurl Ravenscroft
Fortunately, the entire film can be viewed at YouTube. (Thus far.) Here it is:
References
Thomas Michael Disch
…at Wikipedia
…at Internet Speculative Fiction Database
Gahan A. Wilson
…at Wikipedia
…at GahanWilson.net
Stephen Holden
…at New York Times
Jerry Rees
Deanna Oliver (“Toaster”)
John Lovitz (“Radio”)
Timothy Stack (“Lampy” / “Zeke”)
Timothy E. Day (“Blanky” / “Young Rob”)
Thurl Ravenscroft (“Kirby”)
Phil Hartman (“Air Conditioner” / “Hanging Lamp”)