Originally an hour show, The Mickey Mouse Club was recut for 30-minute time slots when it was syndicated in the 1960s. The five episodes on this disc may have been cut even further (or possibly time-compressed) as they run just 22 minutes apiece. Further confusing matters is that the menu screens claim airdates as late as November 1964 for these shows, long after the series was cancelled. Though it's possible some new linking footage may have been shot at that time, the lion's share of the footage used for these episodes clearly date back to the mid-1950s (featuring as they do a prepubescent Annette Funicello, for instance) and end titles copyright the material as early as 1955.

Video & Audio

None of this would matter much if The Best of the Mickey Mouse Club looked as good as the Walt Disney Treasures collection apparently does. (This reviewer hasn't seen that set, but reviews and online frame-grabs suggest decent transfers.) Instead, the soft, ugly image on this DVD has the look of ancient video masters from the mid-1980s, and strongly resembles TV shows sold by fly-by-night public domain labels. (It also has the same ugly look of the Buena Vista-owned Combat series, released to DVD with similarly eye-straining transfers.) Contrast is poor, the image is soft with much of it looking as if it were transferred through cheesecloth. The mediocrity - I've seen pre-recorded VHS tapes look better than this - was so surprising coming from such a major label I initially thought something was wrong with my DVD player, and I sampled shows on another player, just to be sure. This is, quite simply, the worst-looking DVD release from Disney this reviewer has ever seen. Adding insult to injury, there are no scene selection options, and the low-fidelity sound is no better than the image, though the optional English subtitles may help. There are no Extra Features, unless you count what seems like 30 minutes of ads and FBI warnings.

The Episodes

Little imagination is shown in the selection of material for this disc. They're simply five shows with no relation to one another: "Fun with Music Day" (listed as airing 9/30/57), "Guest Star Day" (8/28/62), "Anything Can Happen Day" (11/12/64), "Circus Day" (10/11/62), and "Talent Round-Up Day" (10/25/57).

Most of the episodes are, in their cut and visually unattractive form, pretty lifeless. "Fun with Music Day," for instance, opens with an okay musical number with Mouseketeer Darlene Gillespie at a pet shop, but then transitions to a nearly 11-minute promo for a Hardy Boys mystery/serial (starring Tommy Kirk and Tim Considine) that never commences! "Guest Star Day" offers the dubious thrills of "bewildered ballerina" Willie Call, an Ice Capades star who does a comic drag act, followed by skating sensation Ronnie Robertson, who won silver at the 1956 Olympics. Ferdinand the Bull (1938) is the "Mousekartoon," but while the short was made in Technicolor, the presentation here is in drab black and white. Mouseketeer leader Jimmie Dodd then rambles on about Bambi and his mother, which somehow leads to a discussion about "Safety First."

Though too little, too late, the DVD finally comes to life with the energetic third episode, "Anything Can Happen Day." It opens with a charming and imaginative number with the Mouseketeers, followed by some delightful Dixieland Jazz with the Firehouse Five (+ 2). The Mouseketeers join in for "Tiger Rag," which uses both the kids and the musicians to good effect.

The remaining episodes offer more of the same: a juggling act on "Circus Day," three very talented black kids turn-up on "Talent Round-Up Day," the only appearance by non-whites in all five shows. Another color cartoon, The Pied Piper (1933) is shown in black and white, while Part 5 of a Mickey Mouse Club Newsreel on Hawaii shows off that future state.

Parting Thoughts

Utterly unsatisfying, The Best of the Mickey Mouse Club is a real mystery. Was it conceived as something more substantial, then rushed through production? What might have whetted the appetites of nostalgic baby-boomers for more episodes is instead a real turn-off, an ugly DVD with little to recommend it. R-I-P, O-F-F, D-I-S-N'-Y!

Stuart Galbraith IV is a Kyoto-based film historian whose work includes The Emperor and the Wolf - The Lives and Films of Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune and Taschen's forthcoming Cinema Nippon. Visit Stuart's Cine Blogarama here.