Rascal (1969)

On this episode of flinging stuff at a wall to see what sticks, we dive back into the halcyon days of the Main Street movies. And you know what? I’ll take it! Hit or miss is better than consistently bad, right? Right?

Disclaimer: This blog is purely recreational and not for profit. Any material, including images and/or video footage, are property of their respective companies, unless stated otherwise. The authors claim no ownership of this material. The opinions expressed therein reflect those of the authors and are not to be viewed as factual documentation. All photos are capped from my copy of the movie with InstantShot! unless otherwise specified.

Early the other morning, when I was delivering checkout notices, I found a trash can knockedover near the elevators. I went to turn it upright but jumped back when I heard the screams of the damned echo out from inside, and a raccoon the size of a bear cub shot out and ran into the bushes. That’s not really relevant to Rascal, I just wanted to tell that story. The joys of working at a hotel. But seriously, this thing’s back came up to my knees. Don’t feed the wildlife, kids.

But Sterling North did feed the wildlife, and he wrote about that idyllic childhood experience in his autobiographical book, Rascal: A Memoir of a Better Life. The same syrupy look at days gone by with an animal pal went over even better than his previous work on the book that inspired So Dear to My Heart way back when, even winning a Newberry Award. It seemed a natural fit for Disney, who has a pretty decent, if not always great track record with these kinds of films. James Algar came in to produce, and he has an eye for nature after working on so many True Life Adventures, which can probably help temper Norman Tokar’s inability to direct anything with people as the focus. We have a new face coming in to write in Harold Swanton, for whom this is the sole film credit in a sea of television. Why does this studio keep doing that? I don’t know. Oh, by the way, the novel was also later adapted into an anime that was so popular, kids wanted their own raccoons and that’s how they became an invasive species in Japan.

This was the very first film reviewed in an official capacity by legendary critic Gene Siskel after becoming a critic for the Chicago Tribune. He didn’t like it much. Other critics were inclined to agree that it was sappy and saccharine, and kind of a generic story. They did appreciate the good acting and the feeling of nostalgia, but the fact remains is they’d seen Disney do this a million times before. To which I have to argue: it’s a Disney movie. If you’re not going in expecting overly wholesome, sugary sweet nostalgia, what are you even doing? There didn’t seem to be any concrete cricitism about the script or anything, so I’m going to stay optimistic. At least it’s not a Western.

STORY

Older Sterling narrates a montage of his younger self and Rascal doing stuff, going on and on about how wonderful it was and how it was a simpler time and paradise to a young boy and right out of the gate he is overselling it like nobody’s business. His reminiscing takes us back to the last day of school to hear Miss Whalen’s class sharing their plans for summer vacation. Sterling plans on building a canoe, but Miss Whalen knows there’s more to it than that. She calls him back after the bell rings to check up on him, because his mother recently died and his father frequently leaves for business trips. At least he has his older sister, but not really, because she has to return to work soon. They manage the exposition dump pretty well, to be fair. It establishes everything we need to know about Sterling’s situation quickly and naturally- the teacher should be checking up on this kind of situation, because this kid’s like eleven and being left alone, so it’s only right that she should worry a little.

Before she gets much out of him, Willard North drives up with Sterling’s dog Wowzer, and the conversation abruptly ends. He takes Sterling out to the woods to investigate some strange tracks, which turn out to belong to a Canada lynx that strayed way out of its range. Sure enough, there it is. Wowzer scares it off, and father and son sit down to a slice of apple pie and some memories of Sterling’s mother. He offers Sterling some advice about stopping to enjoy life while you’re living it, which out of context is pretty good advice. The problem is, he does so at the expense of responsibilities. However, introducing him with those words establishes him as a likeable character, while jumping out and showing his flaws and the damage he causes right away would rob us of that chance to connect to him like Sterling does. This film makes some excellent choices with its dialogue and I’m going to keep gushing about it.

Frantic barking breaks the quiet contemplation. Wowzer has the lynx cornered in a hollow tree! Oh, wait, it’s not a lynx at all. It’s a mother raccoon, who dukes it out with the dog until Sterling pulls him off. Still fuming, she grabs her adorable little kits and scurries off into the woods away from the overprotective hound. Sterling tries to pull Wowzer back to the car but he suddenly starts barking at the tree again. When the humans investigate, they find that the mother raccoon left a kit behind! He’s so small and helpless that he’ll surely die on his own. He scoops him up, somehow doesn’t get rabies, and looks to his father. Without words, his father gives him permission to bring him home. Sterling names the kit Rascal, and his older self monologues unnecessarily about how special he is and how much he’d mean to him and how this was the best summer he’d ever have in his life. This movie does visual storytelling so well that it makes the narration incredibly annoying. We know you can show don’t tell so… do it.

As the Norths pull into their driveway, the narrator introduces us to some of their neighbors. Cy Jenkins owns a corn patch, some coonhounds, and the voice of John Fiedler who also voices Piglet, which is really incredibly distracting and you cannot unhear it. Walt Abbot likes to drive around in his loud, obnoxious, Mr. Toad-esque motorcar, terrifying Garth Shadwick’s skittish horse. None of these three men loves the idea of having a raccoon in the neighborhood, but Sterling just knows with all the conviction of a young Disney protagonist that he can train Rascal to be a model citizen. To everyone’s astonishment, Rascal gets off to a great start! The coonhounds slobber big kisses all over him, and quite apart from being scared, the horse takes comfort in him. It seems Rascal will fit right in. For now.

They head inside and Willard greets his grown daughter Theo with more tales of his marvelous trip. It takes him a while to even realize she’s giving him the cold shoulder, and he can’t begin to imagine why. It’s because she’s put her life on hold long enough. She has to return to her job and her fiancee in Chicago, and Willard will have to step up and be an adult. She’s already done most of the legwork, organizing everything from the groceries to the laundry. The one thing Willard has to take responsibility for is interviewing applicants for a housekeeper position, so someone can make sure Sterling doesn’t starve to death and the house doesn’t fall apart. And this guy, you guys. This gem of a guy has the gall to wonder why he needs a housekeeper when he has a perfectly good daughter who can just quit her job and stay in the kitchen. Okay, not in as many words, but that’s what’s implied. She refuses, of course, because she’s an adult and she’s getting married to a very nice man named Norman who Willard hasn’t even met yet. In the end, they make a deal: Willard will interview the prospective housekeepers, if Theo brings Norman for Thanksgiving.

For once, Willard keeps his word, but the interview with Theo’s favorite candidate turns disastrous in a hurry. Mrs. Satterfield is stern, strict, and no nonsense, in stark contrast to Willard’s devil-may-care style of parenting. Even worse, she hates animals, and will only take the job if the Norths get rid of both Wowzer and Rascal. Who does that? Can you imagine hiring a babysitter or a nanny or whatever the modern equivalent is and they tell you, the prospective employer who signs their theoretical paycheck, that they have to get rid of their pets? I mean, they’d probably get internet famous, but not in the good way. Naturally, Willard shuts that down real fast. When she leaves, he sits down to his piano to muse aloud to a portrait of his deceased wife that no housekeeper could ever compare to her. The different piano melodies he plays to illustrate each candidate adds a touch of whimsy to the scene without making it any less poignant. It’s beautifully done.

I know what I just said, and Mrs. Satterfield was definitely not the right pick for the job, but Willard should definitely have picked somebody to look after the twelve year old boy with no one else to turn to. But he didn’t, and with a manchild and an actual child running the place, the North house quickly becomes a disaster. Sterling enjoys the freedom, says his older self in his incessant narration, but it does get a little lonely. And really, Wowzer’s crying about says it all. At least he has letters from Theo to look forward to. He tells her all about his summer and about the wacky things Rascal’s been getting up to, but she only wants to hear about Mrs. Satterfield. Naturally, she has no idea that Willard didn’t hire her, and Sterling’s not about to tell her. It takes weeks of frustration before Sterling even mentions the name, and when he finally does it’s only because he nearly ran her down on his bike. “She’s fine” is as good an answer as any, right?

The rest of the summer passes in a lovely little montage. I’ll come back to this, because for story purposes it’s just a bunch of raccoon antics, but the sequence is very nice. There’s a beautiful, melancholy feel to the whole thing that makes you really pine for a sort of idyllic, peaceful, rustic childhood that was almost extinct by 1969, let alone 2021. Also, it ends on an adorable scene where Rascal snatches food out of a bewildered Wowzer’s bowl under his nose. Finally, we pull back into the present, and Garth the horse guy offers Sterling and Rascal a ride on his horsedrawn carriage. It’s all fun and games until Walter Abbot zooms by in his noisy menace of a motorcar, terrifying the horse and sparking a rivalry between the two men. Not to be left out, Cy Jenkins catches Rascal in his cornpatch and goes ballistic even as Sterling profusely apologizes. If Rascal keeps acting like that, somebody’s going to shoot him.

And that’s not the only problem threatening Sterling’s magical carefree summer. In fairness, concerned adults checking on the neglected child is probably the opposite of a problem, but that’s not how Sterling sees it. Still, Miss Whalen and the new town minister Reverend Thurman do the responsible adult thing and pay the kid a visit because CPS doesn’t exist yet. The house is such a mess that the reverend can’t even find a place to hang his hat, but Sterling is in perfectly good spirits. He eagerly takes the two adults into the kitchen to show them how well Rascal’s training is going. He’s not a model citizen quite yet but he’s getting there! He ignores the temptation of some ears of corn and comes when called, so Sterling rewards him with a marshmallow. Remember that. Miss Whalen warns Sterling that Rascal is a wild animal that will have to go back to the woods eventually, but Sterling just knows with the conviction of a child protagonist that they’ll be best friends forever.

Willard pulls up and immediately starts babbling over Reverend Thurman’s every attempt to express his concerns. He insists that the guests stay for dinner, wasting no time in putting them both to work. He’s still rambling over them as they sit down to dinner, going on and on and on about the magnificent apple cider he picked up on his trip. Pretty soon, there’s a glass in every adult hand, all responsibilities go forgotten, and everyone gets completely trashed. While the wasted adults party and babble about Sterling’s success at “unvarmitizing” Rascal, the raccoon proves that he’s not as civilized as previously thought. Frantic barking interrupts the conversation as Rascal’s antics alert Cy Jenkins’ coonhounds. By the time they get outside, it’s too late. Walter Abbot stands outside his henhouse with a terrified chicken in one hand and a smug raccoon munching an egg in the other.

Things continue to escalate. Rascal spends every night stealing any food that isn’t nailed down, no matter who it belongs to. Sterling can’t nail up the house’s exits fast enough to stop the furry little thief, and the neighbors are not happy. Finally, the local Sheriff gets involved. Rascal’s exploits violate his beloved municipal code and wild animals should either stay wild or be kept in a cage. Walter Abbot interrupts the sherrif’s speech with something even more annyoying than a thieving raccoon: his big, honking, noisy car. Showing off is bad enough, but he loses control of the car, almost runs over Cy, and crashes into Garth’s general store. So, you know, he’s not the most popular guy in town right now. He defends himselfwith a rant about how horsedrawn carriages are obsolute. Garth the horse guy won’t just take that lying down , so he challenges Walter to a race- his horseddrawn carriage versus Walter’s motorcar. Gotta get ’60s movie car chase in here somewhere.

You know what else this ’60s live action movie has been surprisingly short on? Animal shenanigans. So Rascal takes advantage of everyone’s distraction and sneaks into the general store, which is full of yummy yummy food. The camera dramatically zooms in on the yummiest of all: a jar full of plump marshmallows! And you can imagine the rest. Lots of stuff knocked over, lots of people screaming, same as usual. But at least the animal shenanigans aren’t the entire movie. Sterling chases after his pet and gets him outside, but he just keeps running wild until finally he holes up inside a statue of a cannon. Now the whole town knows Rascal is a menace. Sterling has no choice. He has to cage Rascal. Willard’s attempts to make him feel better about it are heartbreaking, as is Rascal’s desperate scrabbling at the bars of the makeshift crate. Sterling knows Rascal can’t live like this. It’s time for him to go.

No matter how much Willard tries to delay the inevitable, Sterling knows Rascal has to go back to the wild. But the irresponsible manchild is the one with the driver’s license, so he takes a little detour to watch their neighbors race instead. The whole town is gathered at the park, after all, making bets and socializing, and it would be a shame for Rascal not to say goodbye to his friends. I gotta say, even when cars were less reliable, has it ever been possible for a horse to outrun one? Even from a practical standpoint, this is kinda dumb: a horse has a mind of its own, where a car should do whatever its driver wants. Case in point, Garth’s horse still hasn’t recovered from the Walter’s car scaring it outside the general store. It takes a whole lot of coaxing to get him to even start running.

I must say, if we absolutely have to have a car chase, at least this one has a twist to it. Having a car and a horse go head to head is a nice visual oddity, and the gags here are funny enough that it doesn’t get boring. I won’t go play by play here because it’s just a car chase, but the most important part is that Walter’s car horn keeps scaring Garth’s horse. It’s not looking good for the guy everyone wants to win, and the whole town would just love to see Walter the obnoxious braggart put in his place. Just in time, the Norths pull up. Cy Jenkins yanks Rascal out of Sterling’s hands , thinking that if Rascal rides with Garth, his horse will be comforted by having his friend along. And it works! Garth’s horse gets it together and catches up to Walter Abbot’s car with no trouble at all. He swerves off the edge of a covered bridge like the beginning of Beetlejuice and lands in a pond like every other goofy car chase we’ve seen. And Garth wins! Rascal becomes the town hero and Sterling decides he can stay, just a little bit longer.

Summer ends and we cut ahead to Thanksgiving. True to her word, Theo brings her fiance Norman home, though she has concerns about him meeting her mess of a father. Being a good dude, Norman does his best to reassure her but suddenly realizes he forgot something and has to stop at the telegram office. While waiting in the car, Theo spots Mrs. Satterfield passing by with her groceries and exchanges some small talk. She still has no idea that her father never hired a housekeeper, but that’s all about to change. She offers Mrs. Satterfield a ride home, but she declines. Only when she says she lives clear across town does Theo finally get it. Her father broke his promise. Furious, yanks the car into gear and drives off home, abandoning a bewildered Norman outside. Poor guy.

Just as she feared, the house looks like a tornado ran through it and left a finished canoe right in the middle of the living room. Far from greeting her little brother, Theo gives him the third degree and won’t let Sterling change the subject to happier things like their father does. She’s livid that he would lie to her face like that, and she won’t let him get away without answering why. The answer will break your heart. He doesn’t want a housekeeper. He wants his mom. The poor kid has had no support sy He’s been forced to bottle up his grief and take care of himself all this time, and what’s worse is Mrs. Satterfield demanded he get rid of his animals, the only support system he’s had. Once all that is out in the open, Theo finally understands. Sterling isn’t responsible for this.

The real culprit walks through the door, babbling about the massive turkey gifted by one of his clients. After several minutes of Theo giving him the cold shoulder, he realizes he messed up somehow but lacks the self-awareness to realize what he did. Theo explodes. It’s incredibly satisfying to watch him finally get a dressing-down about how much damage his happy-go-lucky attitude is doing to his kids. His daughter has to give up her dream job and marriage to look after his son, who’s an emotional wreck, and that’s not fair to either of them. But somebody has to step up and take responsibility and God knows he’s not going to do it. Also, just from Theo’s monologue about how “somebody has too make sure that the bills are paid” and “somebody has got to do the worrying”, you can totally tell Roy is in charge of everything now. Finally, Willard gets it. There’s no verbal realization, just a shot of him looking at his wife’s photo. But that’s all you need.

Willard can’t sleep that night. Neither can Norman, apparently, because the poor guy still thinks he did something wrong. He has no idea what family drama he got stuck in the middle of, and I kinda feel bad for the guy. But while they have their heart to heart, Rascal hears something outside Sterling’s bedroom window. It’s a female raccoon! The mating call sends him into a desperate frenzy but all the exits are nailed up. As he scurries for that coveted escape route, he clambers over Theo’s bed. Her screams wake Sterling and terrify the house, but Rascal still can only think of freedom, scratching and clawing at the nearest window. Sterling tries to pull him back, but Rascal has no thoughts of friendship or love at this point. He just wants to be out in the woods with that girl raccoon. And with a very effective scare chord, he bites Sterling’s finger.

Miss Whalen’s warning echoes in Sterling’s mind. This time, there’s no denying it. Wild animals have to return to the wild. Willard sits him down to bandage his finger, but Sterling’s line “it doesn’t hurt, it just stings a little” doesn’t refer to the iodine. It’s a metaphor for the knowledge that he has to let his best friend go and this movie has so much beautiful subtlety in it you guys. Willard’s response is less subtle, but no less beautiful for it. He cloaks it in a metaphor about raccoons needing to run wild and free but always coming home to those they love, but the real meaning is clear. He finally realizes he needs to be with his family, and he won’t run away from Sterling anymore. He’s finally read to step up and be a parent. Sterling flings his arms around his father, and our human story wraps up in a neat little bow.

But there’s still the raccoon story to finish. Sterling rows Rascal out to the lake on his new canoe’s inaugural voyage. They find the female raccoon pretty quickly, and Rascal dashes sout to meet her without even looking back. Before Sterling can turn the canoe around, he hears a noise that makes his blood run cold. The lynx is back! He starts to climb out to help his friend, but nah. Rascal and his new girlfriend have got this. The crafty raccoons trick the lynx into a humiliating fall into the lake, after a lot of running around being cute, of course. Sterling recognizes that his old pal can handle himself just fine in the wild, and he turns to go. As he rows back to the opposite shore, Rascal raises a little people hand in a raccoon-ish farewell. Those happy days with Rascal were beautiful, reminisces Walter Pigeon, but they’re over. And we’ll always have the memories.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m in such a long stretch of such bad movies that the okay-to-good ones feel better than they are, but I really enjoyed that!  It was kind of sappy, but not so much that it wasn’t enjoyable.  It was just a quiet story about normal, flawed people learning important life lessons.  It reminded me of Summer Magic, if Summer Magic had all the coziness and charm but no songs. As much as I like animals, it’s human stories that are really compelling, especially when they actually have some kind of relatable conflict. Give me a kid struggling with his distant father over some ad exec’s hair-brained horse scheme any day of the week!

CHARACTERS

Sterling North is the fictionalized version of the real-life author of the book. As a character, he’s one of the best we’ve seen in this type of saccharine animal movie. He’s trying so, so hard to be self-sufficient and positive, but every so often the mask breaks and you can see a sad little boy trying to deal with the death of his mom all on his own. Bill Mumy handles all those layers and all that emotion beautifully, especially considering he was only 15 at the time. He had plenty of experience, which definitely helped, most famously as (danger) Will Robinson on Lost in Space!

Willard North is just as complicated, equal parts endearing and frustrating. He loves his family and he loves life, and he’s got some pretty good quotes. On the other hand, he’s incredibly irresponsible with no concept of how badly he’s damaging his family. So, you know, like a real person. In fact, I couldn’t help but think more than once that this was how Roy saw his little brother sometimes: fanciful and dreamy to the exclusion of all reality, leaving him to clean up his messes and pay his bills. That’s just conjecture, of course, but something I thought about a few times. Also, Steve Forrest reminded me so much of the dad in Walt Disney World’s Carousel of Progress attraction that I had to look it up to see if it was him. It’s not. But his voice sounds just like him.

Theodora “Theo” North hangs onto the family brain cell for safekeeping. She’s the practical, level head that the Norths desperately need. Unfortunately for her, that constantly means she has to sacrifice her own happiness and independence to cover for her absolutely useless father. It’s a terrible position to be in, and to the filmmakers’ credit, she’s portrayed as the victim in the situation. She’s not abandoning her job and her fiancee because she would rather be home in the kitchen taking care of the menfolk. She’s doing it because she has no choice. We never see if Willard’s realization at the end means she can stay in Chicago and marry the man she loves, but I like to think it does. She’s earned it.

MUSIC

Buddy Baker’s beautiful score goes a long way to making this film as effective as it is. It’s very nostalgic and introspective, revealing what the characters are feeling without them having to open their mouths. We haven’t heard music like that in a very long time, and it’s a welcome relief before we dive into the mire of the ‘70s.

Summer Sweet, is, unfortunately, another Bobby Russell song. It’s better than his absolutely godawful song from Smith!, but it’s still kind of syrupy. I do like the emotion in this film but this song just lays it on a little bit thick. Plus, it has that same easy rhythm, folksy voice, and strummed guitar that instantly dates the movie. It’s all right if you like that style of music, but it’s definitely not timeless.

ARTISTRY

In the past, I’ve been kinda tough on Main Street movies in the Artistry section, because they all tend to look the same because they use the same sets. This one, though, does the Main Street look right in a way we haven’t really seen since Summer Magic. The outdoor shots are particularly beautiful, making good use of natural light to make the forest shine. Even the scenes set in the town have a nice, warm, cozy feel that really makes it stand apart from some of the less good films I’ve endured. I mean seen. William E Snyder’s cinematography and Norman Tokar’s directoral vision have sometimes been lacking, but they knocked it out of the park here. It’s gorgeous.

FINAL THOUGHTS

The reviews that called Rascal saccharine and formulaic weren’t exactly wrong, but I liked it anyway! It took the classic tropes of a boy coming of age and learning important life lessons alongside an animal friend and executed them very well. It helps that the focus wasn’t on the raccoon 100% of the time, and we spent plenty of time with the relatable and emotional absent father story. I’ve mentioned several times that one thing I’ve missed through this decade is emotional depth, so it was really nice to have that back in such a lovely setting. If we’re being honest with ourselves, Rascal is more “middling-to-fair” than “outsanding”, but that in and of itself is quite the improvement!

Favorite scene: Willard finally accepting that he is a father and needs to step up. It was such a satisfying resolution.

Final rating: 6/10. Any higher would feel like falsely inflating it, but it’s still very pleasant to watch.