Charlotte's Web Reviews

Hanna-Barbera aren’t a studio that’s necessarily known for its high production values. Many of its beloved franchises, and I do love several of them, aren’t exactly memorable (in a positive way) for their beautiful animation. Plenty of chatter has occurred referencing the repeating backgrounds of Scooby-Doo or the limited movements of The Jetsons. What they excelled at was selling personality and sturdy formulaic situations in bite-sized chunks.

Much of that is evident in this adaptation of E.B. White’s perennial childhood classic, Charlotte’s Web. Yeah, the animation is pretty good for the studio’s typical quality but imagine this in the hands of Disney in its prime. The farms and fairs would’ve looked like watercolor pastoral wonderlands filled with whimsy and Americana beauty. Granted, the studio in the 70s wasn’t exactly in better shape so this is really imagining if they’d made it in the 50s.

And there is something of a displaced quality to this film. The animation reveals all the markings of the not just the studio, but the time period, while the songs by the Sherman Brothers feel retro, simplistic, and more attuned to the era of the film’s setting. Think of the happy-go-lucky corn pone songs of Summer Stock shoved into a hazy 70s hangout vibe. It’s fascinating in its mild weirdness.

Of course, nothing could diminish the power and heart of White’s original story, which this film is nearly slavishly faithful towards. I do not mean that as a criticism as White’s story is an acknowledged and beloved classic and straying too far from it would potentially collapse its fragile magic. Yes, I felt a similar emotional devastation as this cartoon spider’s death as I did in the fourth grade read-aloud during class. Ok, maybe not quite as powerful as that initial blow, but the warmth and weight of the story remain intact.

I often used to watch this as a child. Not because I thought it was some kind of masterpiece, even as a kid I recognized the shortcomings, but because it has a winsome charm that felt like comfort food. After all, where else could you find Debbie Reynolds as a sweet, motherly spider, Agnes Moorehead as a stern goose, Henry Gibson as an anxious pig, and Paul Lynde as gluttonous, sour rat? It may not be perfect, but it is a humble little thing that sparkles.