At one point, Disney could do no wrong. From 1989's The Little Mermaid, the Mouse House reeled off a series of classics in a period known as the Disney Renaissance, a hot streak of legendary animated films that became deeply ingrained in the shared childhood memories of millions.
It's worth listing them here just to bask in an achievement that might never be matched again: The Little Mermaid. The Rescuers Down Under. Beauty and the Beast. Aladdin. The Lion King. Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Hercules. Mulan. Tarzan. In one 10-year span, Disney once again became a storytelling powerhouse.
But maybe it's time to add one more to the list? One year prior to Ariel making a splash in our hearts, the plucky underdog Oliver and Company strutted along – and I can't believe it took me until this year to watch it for the first time. Seriously, it's that good.
Street savoir-faire
Coming off the back of Disney stumbling through the 1980s amid leadership changes, box office challenges, and expensive flops such as the ill-advised The Black Cauldron, it was clear the animators needed a big win. 1986's The Great Mouse Detective proved there was still life in a flagging brand. Yet, it was Oliver and Company that really captured the magic that would go on to define the next decade at Disney.
Instead of adapting a fairytale, as Disney would heavily lean on in its past with Snow White and Cinderella, Oliver and Company transplanted Charles Dickens' 19th Century novel to the rock and rolling streets of 1980s New York. There, an unwanted kitten (Oliver, voiced by Joey Lawrence) falls in with a pack of scrappy dogs, led by Billy Joel's Dodger.
Yes, that Billy Joel. Not content with a starring role that's worlds away from the stunt casting that populated the batch of middling 21st Century animated fare, Joel sings – pun absolutely intended – in a howling, rip-roaring adventure as Oliver and company find themselves facing down a ticking clock as their owner Fagin (Dom DeLuise) races to scrape together enough cash to pay off fearsome mob boss Sykes (Robert Loggia).
The Piano Man singer immediately gets Oliver and Company off on the right paw with a rendition of 'Why Should I Worry?', an uber-suave, instantly hummable track. In much the same way Phil Collins elevated Tarzan with his soundtrack, Billy Joel does the same here. But Joel goes one further with his fantastic work as Dodger, one that is emblematic of the movie's biggest strength: just how cool it is.
This isn't cool in the way studios might fumble towards being hip and trendy now. There are no focus groups and pandering to an imagined audience. This is Billy Joel zipping through one of Disney's most underappreciated openers in a hustling, bustling Big Apple filled with larger-than-life characters such as the Shakespeare-loving British Bulldog, Francis (Roscoe Lee Browne), pampered poodle Georgette (Bette Midler), and hyperactive Chihuahua Tito.
As I continued watching Oliver and Company, I could scarcely believe it. Questions filled my head. Why haven't I seen this before? Why isn't this held up as a Disney classic in the same way Hercules and The Lion King would go on to be?
Dogged attitude
In truth, maybe it was a little too ahead of its time. It's not as conservative and restrained in the way Disney usually is; Oliver and Company revels in being a cartoon first and foremost, ably capturing a contemporary sense of time, space, and style in a way that the animation studio pretty much outright rejects immediately after. As much as I love Beauty and the Beast, Mulan, and Aladdin, there's something so invigorating about a modern, urban setting and a story that never lets up, be that in jokes or toe-tapping numbers.
Yet, it's still not lacking in that old-fashioned Disney heart. For the schmaltzy among us, the luckless Oliver gets adopted by sweet young girl Jenny (Natalie Gregory), with Georgette's attempts to kick the kitten out of the house acting like a darkly funny, twisted mirror of the Siamese cats' shenanigans years prior in Lady and the Tramp.
It all culminates in a seriously impressive final chase as Sykes, his patience running thin, kidnaps Jenny, as the gang are in hot pursuit of the mafioso and his pair of Doberman dogs, Roscoe and DeSoto. And it's here where my love for Oliver and Company was crystalized.
Instead of a clean, happy ending, the finale brings a brutal, shocking comeuppance down on Sykes and his dogs, proving that there was still plenty of bite at Disney.
So, yes, Oliver and Company stands out as an odd duck, slightly detached from the conveyor belt of bangers that would soon follow.
But with hand-drawn animation going the way of the 2D dodo, perhaps it's time it was reappraised as the modern classic it deserves to be, instead of a lost relic of an era Disney fans tend to ignore (myself included, admittedly). In the words of Oliver Twist: Can I have some more?
Alongside Oliver & Company, discover more of the best movies on Disney Plus and best shows on Disney Plus.
