Summary: Two childhood animal friends find themselves forced to become enemies. - Imdb.com
Length: 83 minutes
Rating: G
Date of Original Release: 1981
Directors: Ted Berman, Richard Rich, Art Stevens
Writers: Larry Clemmons, Ted Berman, David Michener, Peter Young, Burny Mattinson, Steve Hulett, Earl Kress, Vance Gerry
Art Director: Don Griffith
Music: Buddy Baker
Cast
KEITH MITCHELL – Young Tod
COREY FELDMAN – Young Copper
MICKEY ROONEY – Adult Tod
KURT RUSSELL – Adult Copper
JEANETTE NOLAN – Widow Tweed
JACK ALBERTSON – Amos Slade
PAT BUTTRAM – Chief
PEARL BAILEY – Big Mama
DICK BAKALYAN – Dinky
PAUL WINCHELL – Boomer
SANDY DUNCAN – Vixey
JOHN FIEDLER – Porcupine
JOHN MCINTIRE – Badger
Plot & Commentary
We open our story in a forest. The usual frogs and birds are busy living their lives. But lo! What bark from yonder clearing sounds? (I know, I know.) Anxious music plays as a mother fox dashes through wood and pasture with her cub in her mouth. The invisible barking WILL NOT STOP. It brings out my knee-jerk “Will you SHUT UP!” reaction. We once had a beagle and I loved her, but there were few things as enraging as when she really got going. It goes without saying that you understand where I'm coming from, Megan; this is just for the benefit of the other readers. At the edge of the woods sits a farmhouse. An owl pops out of a tree. The fox hides her cub at the base of a fence pole and darts across the adjoining meadow. She vanishes over a hill and two gunshots ring out. The owl looks horrified, then looks down at the fox cub. OHHHHHHH. There is a little red face to tear the strings right out of your heart. The owl floats down to the cub, who hides on the other side of the fence post. Her name is Big Momma. She ponders who will take care of the baby, who rapidly warms up to her. A rapping noise starts. Eureka! She hides the fox and flies away.
A sparrow and an enormous woodpecker are hard at work on the trunk of an oak tree. The sparrow, recently from Boston, I believe, assures the woodpecker—“Boomer,” who has a stammer—that they’ve got him this time, when Big Momma lands on the branch beside them and recruits them to her cause. They depart and a fat green caterpillar leans out of the hole in the tree and heaves a sigh of relief. I hope this isn’t going to be a movie full of birds-chasing-caterpillar pratfalls.
The sparrow, who is too perky for words and I love him, hmms around on the fence pole for a bit, then gathers the others to him—they huddle, for reasons I cannot fathom, seeing as no one is around and probably wouldn’t care what they’re saying anyway—and they come to an agreement. Boomer flies over to the farmhouse and raps on the door. “Who is it?” says a female voice, and then the door swings open and smashes Boomer, standing on the doorknob, into the wall. Heh. The woman is a kindly old farmer’s wife: gray bun, galoshes, and spectacles to boot, who looks blankly around and then takes off after the other two birds, who are busy stealing a pair of huge pink bloomers off the clothesline. “Oh, you pesky birds! Will you come back here?” Lady, trust me, they’re better gone. The birds drop the bloomers on the cub and the lady discovers him with the delight I imagine we would all feel at finding a baby fox underneath our laundry. I like the way she says fox. He squirms around but she wraps him up in her apron and carries him into the house.
And then bottle feeds him. “You’re such a little toddler,” she chuckles. “Say—that’s what I’m going to call you. Tod.” What a terrible inspiration for a name. I hate when people waste naming opportunities. “I’m not going to be so lonesome anymore,” she smiles, as the birds watch soppily from the other side of the window.
A truck backfires as it winds its way down a dirt drive. A big gray hound rouses himself from a nap to greet it. The man who climbs out dangles a brown cloth bag—“I’ve got a surprise for you, Chief old boy!”
Chief sniffs it in excitement, which changes to alarm as the bag starts to wriggle. The man pulls THE HAPPIEST beagle puppy that ever lived out of the bag. “Now, how’s this for a huntin’ dog?” CHIEF’S FACE—I AM CRYING WITH LAUGHTER AT THIS FRAME. Peeved doesn’t begin to describe it. The man drops the puppy to the ground and its eyebrows fall over it eyes. The little tail keeps wagging. This is so wonderful. Chief sniffs him, and he licks Chief’s nose. The disgruntled hound glares at his master. “You may as well get used to it, Chief! He’s for you to look after, from now on.” The puppy is attempting to climb Chief’s leg. Chief has no interest in his new job, and stalks back into his kennel, then backs out fast upon finding the puppy already in it. He shoves the newbie away, who rolls across the ground and when he lands in a flop, his eyebrows cascade over his eyes again. I bet the animators had a ball sketching puppies for this movie. The baby beagle gallops back over to Chief and nestles into the crook of his shoulder with a few tiny licks. He yawns and falls asleep in a split second. Small puppy snores begin. Chief looks like he doesn’t know what to do, then smiles slightly and lays his head down. Aww. If only it really worked that way. I’ve had a cantankerous old dog and a puppy thrilled to be alive thrilled that you’re alive thrilled that old dog is alive what’s this do you want to play play play residing in the same house and I promise you, world, that it is NOT that easy.
The woman is milking a cow when Tod, who has doubled in size, runs into the barn. He swipes at the cow’s tail, who makes the same “UnnnNNNNNNHHhhh” sound of irritation that I make when woken too early (with face to match). The farmer—farmess? TELL ME HER NAME, DISNEY—chuckles at them to leave each other alone/be patient. Abigail the cow is taking these orders with a grain of salt. Tod barks at the farmess to squirt milk into his mouth. He bounds over to a nesting chicken and her three small chicks. The inevitable chaos happens: chicken squawks, startles cow, cow knocks over farmess, fox is chased by hen through cow’s legs, cow tail smacks farmess in face, milk is spilt, etc.
Fox hides. “I said come HERE!” That fox is more obedient than most children I know. She starts scolding and he starts cuddling and we all know who is going to lose this battle. “Run along and play—and TRY to stay out of mischief!” I would tell her that the fox can’t understand her, but this is a Disney film.
The bird duo flies overhead and Tod runs after them. They’re still after the caterpillar. “He won’t get away this time. Heh heh heh.” What did this caterpillar do to deserve their undivided hunting attention? Boomer has the most annoying laugh I think I’ve ever had to suffer through in a movie. It’s level Sleepless in Seattle, only that was purposeful, and Boomer’s is more of a Hoo Hoo Hoo! They locate the caterpillar, who is reclined and picking his teeth, and go after him with a vengeance. Once again, I have to ask what he did to make them want to murder him so very badly. Tod chooses this moment to arrive.
TOD: Hiya, guys! Wanna play?
DINKY: Stay outta this, kid. This don’t concern you. LET HIM HAVE IT! Don’t let the creep
get away!
They lose the trail and start blaming each other. Tod chases a butterfly over a stone wall and thankfully removes us from what’s gearing up to be a long and boring argument. He wil’o’wisps near to where the hunting dogs live. They’re tidily drinking from a big water dish when the puppy, who has also slightly grown in stature, catches Tod’s scent.
CHIEF: Hey, Copper, whatcha sniffin’ at?
COPPER: Sumpin… I never… smelled… befow… Chief.
He prances away to the melodious warnings of Chief the Securely Roped to His Kennel that the old man isn’t going to like it. Chief has the hunting dog’s version of memory loss—he thinks the fox scent is the smell of the master’s cooking (grits and back fat, which I admittedly have no reason to know aren’t comparable odors). “Cain’t tell these young whippersnappers anything.”
The easily entertained fox is still chasing the yaller butterfly. He heads though a hollow log then jumps on top of it. Copper, nose to the ground, follows his scent through the log as the fox watches curiously. Tod pokes his head into the opening of the log: “Whatcha smellin’?” “I’m on the trail of somethin,’” rasps Copper. OHHHHHHHHHHH MY WORD. Their little voices are the kinds of things you want to wrap up and give out as presents. Copper makes a discovery. “Why, it’s—it’s you!” He sits down and lets out an enthusiastic but hardly audible, “Hoo roo rooroo roo!”
Introductions are made. I’m writhing with glee at every word they say. Dear God, let my children have voices this cute. Megan, this will make even you want to have children. Tod logics that Copper would be good at hide and seek, and they begin the game. Copper starts counting, gets caught peeking, and restarts; Tod skitters a few times around a tree stump and hides on top of it. Big Momma lands in a tree nearby and “My, my”s. Excuse me while I listen to that entire scene again.
Copper finds Tod fairly quickly since his hiding place sucks, and they frolic through the forest while the owl sings a song about their odd friendship. She calls them best of friends, obviously, since they just met. Copper is called back home by his master, who glowers and points him back into his kennel. Chief gives him an “I told you so” look and Copper tucks his tail between his legs and huddles down. This is a lesson forgotten the next morning, when a small fox comes a’callin’ at the old homestead for a tiny dog. Copper creeps over Chief’s rope, leaps into the sky with delight when he finds he’s cleared it, and the adventures begin.
TOD: Copper, you’re my very best friend.
COPPER: You’re my best friend too, Tod.
I can buy it coming from them and their cute little voices. They agree that they will be so forever and head off to go swimming. Foxes and hounds—they’re just like you, kids!
“Dagnabit, that copper pup’s gone and strayed off agin’!” I would have more respect for this man if he didn’t wear flannel underwear as his regular shirt. He and Chief march off to find the beagle, who needs to learn to mind his master if he’s going to be any good as a huntin’ dog. As a child I HATED this man. He was the ruiner of summer days, of friendship, and he killed helpless animals (I always thought he was the one responsible for the death of Tod's mom, but come to think of it, he was off collecting eyebrows made of beagle, so I guess I should let him off the hook for that one). Now, having owned dogs who wouldn’t return if you offered them Bacon Bits on a gold plate and having become good friends with a hunter who I witnessed training his Labrador puppy, I have a little more sympathy for him. It’s all very confusing. Master whistles for Copper. Tod stays in the swimming hole—jerk—and shouts reminders about meeting tomorrow. I’ll bring the chips if you bring the dip!
Copper doesn’t make the play date. He’s been tied to his kennel. Tod discovers this and suggests they just play there. Bad idea—Chief is asleep right across the way. Tod trots fearlessly into the kennel to satisfy his daily dog education requirement. Copper watches with trepidation. I’m distracted (again/still) by their cute little voices. Just talk and talk and talk and talk, guys.
The intrepid explorer wanders all the way from tail up to teeth. Chief starts dreaming of chasing a badger. Tod thinks this is hilarious; Copper covers his face with his paws. “No… it’s a fox.” Chief wakes up and finds Tod at the end of his nose. Fox-created chaos ensues yet again—
Fox leaps out of kennel; hound follows; kennel is an inconvenient anchor; kennel is dragged behind hound; fox squeezes under gate; hound obliterates gate; fox runs into chicken coop; coop door proves an obstacle to hound; fox runs back out, chased by chickens; man opens window to witness crowd of chickens, fox, hound, and kennel rush by. Man runs outside with gun, pulling on pants. Kennel catches a gaggle of chickens. Hound and chicken-filled barrel crash into master; audience laughs loudly. Hound runs around tree and kennel rope winds around it. Fox hides in mailbox with sparrow and woodpecker. Man shoots mailbox to smithereens. Fox hops from rock to rock across creek. Hound, mysteriously untrapped by tree, launches himself across creek as well and is halted by water filling the kennel; kennel barrel bobs heavily in the stream. Fox looks on smugly. Farmess gets into a little milk cart and drives away. Fox chases it. Man gets into car with gun and shoots while driving, which has got to be against so many laws. Farmess is startled to see fox running along rock wall beside her. Fox hitches a ride in the back. Man shoots once and makes sixty-eight holes in all the metal milk canisters. For some reason Farmess is still driving. She finally halts. Angry Farmess stalks around to the back of her cart and WAITS. Ohh, this man has got it coming. He screeches to a stop. Hound arrives beside car, panting, dragging barrel half-full of water.
“AMOS SLADE, YOU TRIGGER-HAPPY LUNATIC! GIVE ME THAT GUN!”
She shoots the radiator of his car. I love this woman! They wage a great war of words about his temper and her thieving fox. He stomps on his hat, being the adult he is. “The next time I catch that fox on my property I’ll blast him! And next time I won’t miss!” Fade to sinister black.
Tod is under house arrest. Farmess is making some sort of stew. Why do all illustrated pots of chili/whatever have to be cascading over the sides in a goopy mess for us to know that someone is cooking? She feels bad for the small fox staring out windows and scratching at doors, but reminds him it’s his own fault. He understands completely.
Barking is heard and Tod rushes back to the window. Farmess joins him. We see Amos packing his truck for a hunting trip while Chief watches with wagging tail from the front seat. “A long one, from the looks of it,” says Mother Farmess. She goes back to stirring the goop. Tod squeezes through the convenient opening in the window.
Amos looses an extremely excited Copper. The man may be a trigger-happy lunatic but he’s good to his dogs. Copper bounds into the front seat beside Chief. “Uh-uh. Get in the back, half-pint. You gotta earn your right to sit up front.” Spoken like a true older sibling. This sounds reasonable to Copper, who jumps into the back and immediately makes it seem more fun than riding in the front. Amos announces that they’ll be gone until spring (it’s autumn now). Tod slinks up beside the vacant kennels. He sadly watches the truck leave. Copper manages to fall off a box and emerges facing Tod. A little of the happiness on his face dies when he sees the fox. “Roo oo oo,” he howls weakly as they drive away.
Big Momma flaps down next to Tod to figure out why he’s there. He tells her he just wanted to say goodbye to Copper. She asks what he would have done if he’d run into Chief, and gets this arrogant response: “I can outfox that dumb ol’ dog any time.” Didn’t he learn anything from yesterday’s events? she wants to know. “It’s either education or elimination!” I sense a song coming on. …Prediction was accurate. She sings about hunters, guns, and dogs. Tod assures her that Copper will never hunt him. Big Momma disagrees. The sparrow and the woodpecker provide the interpretive dance number to her song.
TOD: You mean Copper is gonna be my enemy?
DINKY: Kid, you better step over here and take a good look.
The birds scar Tod and young viewers for life when they open the door of Amos’s shed full of animal furs and traps. Tod persists in his trusting faith in his friendship with Copper. These birds are the biggest pessimists. “Time has a way of changing things,” says Big Momma, once a jovial and overweight owl, now the quintessential downer.
We watch the seasons change from fall to snowy winter. The caterpillar has somehow managed to survive the elements this long. The bird duo is also hanging around, shivering their feathers off. Disney, did you check your facts for these scenes? There are these things, they’re called death and migration. The caterpillar makes a beeline for the warm farmhouse.
DINKY: Hey! It’s that fuzzy worm! Let’s get ’im!
Yes, the sparrow's priorities are in order. The birds lose the caterpillar once again and he makes it into the house. They make an oath, an unbreakable vow, a pledge for all time, that they’ll get that little creep when they get back. “We’re going south for the winter!” they tell Big Momma. Better late than never? A lonely Tod watches Copper’s empty yard from the kitchen window. Megan, I assume this was what you looked like after I moved to a different neighborhood.
Copper, himself quite happy, catapults himself from footstep to snowy footstep after his master and coworker. He drowns himself in a snowbank. Chief rolls his eyes and rescues the greenhorn.
It’s a new day and the trio tromps through the snow. Chief sniffs a stick. Copper, who is now significantly larger and it’s not just a trick of the eyes anymore, sniffs the same stick. Chief spies a rabbit and growls. Copper growls, and then takes off after it. Too bad they couldn’t have recorded a beagle baying for this scene instead of this shrill yapping Copper’s doing. He wipes out on a frozen creek.
IMPRESSIVE! Copper is now adult sized. I am so sure. It’s been like four months. He leads the troop and takes a—OH, THERE’S THE BAYING—different path than Chief, which leads to him startling a tree full of birds. Amos rubs Copper’s head and Chief glares at him. Copper has that blissful-dog look on his face. I love the blissful-dog look. When they get back in the car to depart, Copper takes the front seat, to Chief’s great displeasure.
This movie must be set in Narnia because the road the car is driving down transforms from snowy February to bright green April before our very eyes. Big Momma empties her nest of leaves all over Tod, who is also significantly larger and now wears a collar. The bird boys are back too. Tod has some weird whiskers that make him look like the pubescent boy version of a fox. He is not nearly as cute with this new voice, either. Farmess puts a plant outside—the same one the caterpillar made a winter home of—and the birds chase the worm again. I am weary of this subplot. They trap him in the drainpipe. He hides at the top of an electrical pole and they electrocute themselves trying to get him. “H-h-holy s-s-smokes!” chokes Boomer. BAD JOKE. Serves you right, the caterpillar would say if he could talk, and blips his way down the phone line.
“I got no job, I’m a huntin’ man, I’d rather have a dog than a dollar,” sings Amos as the trio rattles its way home. Aw, a Disney baddie who’s not out for personal gain. One of the few and far between. Chief still resents Copper sitting in the front seat. We get a reminder of what Copper once was, when he licks Chief and when Amos claps his hat on Copper’s head and it falls over his eyes. I prefer the puppy, thank you. Chief can’t stand Amos’s singing, and then Copper joins in. Haha. They make a ruckus as they arrive and Tod hears it—who can’t?—and he’s still excited about the great cross-species reunion. Big Momma points out the skins in the back of the truck but Tod is ever the optimist. “That won’t make a difference. Copper’s going to be glad to see me.” Big Momma tells him not to get his hopes up. I hope this ends well.
Copper and Chief are settling in for the night. Copper wants to scuffle. Chief is getting old and cranky: “Lay off, Copper, you overgrown pup, you. Let go—dagnabit, let go!” Copper congratulates himself on his performance during the hunt. I'm not sure this movie is worth watching anymore now that the cute kid voices are gone.
Hours later, it’s dark and they’re both sleeping. A branch cracks and Copper is on his feet. It’s Tod, of course. I’m relieved to tell you that Copper is happy to see him. They make awkward conversation about how much they’ve both grown. Tod says, “I saw you coming back with Chief and the hunter,” and Copper has the decency to look a little chagrined. He tells Tod that he’s happy to see him but he needs to leave before they both get in trouble.
TOD: I just wanted to see you. We’re still friends, aren’t we?
COPPER: Tod… those days are over. I’m a huntin’ dog now.
Can we talk about enforced identity? Can we discuss class pressure? I'm not saying it's a bad thing that Copper is a dog or a hunter or anything like that. What gets me about this line is that Copper has lost the innocence of childhood that makes societal boundaries not just crossable but invisible. I think the movie handles this well, forcing the question of why these friends can't be friends and showing that the reasons have no valid foundation. I hope the film as a whole showed kids that it is okay to be friends with people who are different from you, no matter which side of the tracks you're on, and that it made people think about how ridiculous it is to let social norms and expectations dictate the kinds of people we are "allowed" to value.
At Copper's declaration Tod looks horrorstuck, then heartbroken. Copper tells him to leave before Chief wakes up. Tod swaggers a little bit, he doesn’t bother me yo ho ho. Then Chief wakes up. He’s still tied up (thankfully, or Tod would be comprised of little fluffs of red fur right now) but the noise wakes up Amos. He’s outside with a gun and loosing his dogs in two seconds flat. Tod takes off through the woods with Chief hard on his heels. The gunshots wake Farmess, who runs outside with a lantern and shawl.
Tod manages to shake Chief by hiding under a pile of lumber. After a while Copper comes by, steadily sniffing the ground. He passes Tod—then rounds back. BUSTED. Amos comes up the path at a run. Copper goes through some inner struggle and tells Tod, “I don’t want to watch you get killed. I’ll let you go this one time.” He starts baying and leads Amos in the other direction.
Tod runs onto the railroad tracks and smacks into Chief. He turns tail and runs, which moves the chase onto the train bridge over a river. “There they are! Old Chief’s got him on a run!” shouts Amos. OF COURSE, this is the moment a train shows up. In the middle of the night. In the middle of nowhere Arkansas. I have actually noticed these little things during this film—the car drives over a railroad crossing, there’s a bridge in the background when Chief chases Tod up a hill—and thought, oh, train stuff, those are nice details, wonder why they put those in, la la la. Amos yells, “Down, Chief! Down!” But while our agile fox hero is able to compact himself to fit beneath the oncoming engine, the dog is not so lucky. There’s a sudden bright light and the Midnight Train to Georgia takes out Chief. He plunges over the side, crashing against rock walls, and lands in the water far below. Copper finds him but can’t do anything. Chief’s eyes close. I have no great love for this dog but if I were to even imagine this happening to MY dog, I would be a complete mess. Copper looks up and sees Tod watching from where he stands on the train bridge. His face turns hateful. “Tod—if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get you for this!”
No. It didn’t end well.
Farmess is wandering through the woods looking for Tod. He runs up to her. At least a stray bullet didn’t hit her, which is what I thought was going to happen.
Amos, furious, marches out of his house with his gun. Copper watches him and berates himself for letting Tod go. He blames himself for what happened to Chief. While the train was the real culprit, I do feel that if we’re going to point fingers the blame at least can be laid at Tod’s feet. Go easy on yourself, Copper.
Farmess is knitting in a rocking chair and Tod is asleep in a basket next to the dutch oven. Sheesh. A cartoon animal in a wicker basket and suddenly I want a pet fox. Tod hears who’s coming and hides. Amos wants to kill Tod and swears he’ll never rest until he does. Farmess should beat him away with a broom.
Morning, and a ridiculous photo of Tod with a birthday cake. Farmess puts on a hat and wakes her fox. Can I live in that cute yellow house, please? They get in the milk cart and drive away. Tod is all eyes and ears to the world around him as Voiceover Farmess sings a little song recalling the happy days of yore. It doesn’t take long for him to pick up on her gloom. She drives far far away and carries him into the forest, then hugs him and takes off his collar. I can remember SOBBING at this part as a child. He tries to follow her but she motions for him to stay, and we all know how obedient Tod is. He watches her go pathetically.
And it starts to rain. OF COURSE IT STARTS TO RAIN. The housepet hides under a pine tree and watches the animals around him scurry to their designated places of shelter. All the little hidey holes he finds are already taken; he manages to stir up a badger before finally being taken in by a porcupine with a funny voice. I AM SO SURE.
Farmess arrives back at home accompanied by green thunderclouds and gusts of wind. In Missouri we call this tornado weather. “She dropped that fox off at the game preserve. We’ll get him,” Amos assures Copper, who looks fierce.
WHAT. CHIEF ISN’T DEAD!!! He just appeared at the window—he’s an attic invalid! Suddenly The Fox & the Hound transforms into Jane Eyre. He’s got a busted leg and a soft pillow! Amos and Copper come inside. Chief wants attention but is ordered to his room. He hobbles back to it and I laugh. Yes, I just laughed at the expense of an injured Disney dog. Using a stick, Amos shows Copper how a metal trap works. Copper understands completely.
Big Momma is looking for Tod. She finds a fox, but it’s a girl—her name is Vixey. I can smell what’s coming. Oh yes, Big Momma talks up how handsome Tod’s awkward whiskers are and Vixey eats it up with a spoon. “I’m not doing anything, I’ll help you find him!” This girl is desperate, but cute.
Tod managed to get a good night’s sleep while wrapped around a porcupine. He wakes up and starts screaming, “WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE AM I?” I can’t wait for him to make a fool of himself in front of the whole forest. Haha: he fall out of the tree and lands on the badger, who calls him a clumsy bonehead and tells him to go back where he came from. Big Momma and Vixey happen upon the dejected yet handsome fox. If Vixey were a color, she’d be bubblegum pink. Big Momma hatches a plan (another huddle) to which Vixey replies that she’ll look stupid but goes along with it. The owl goes to Tod, consoles him rapidly, and tells him to look around at how beautiful the forest is. He sees Vixey and nearly starts drooling. She’s positioned herself in a beam of sunlight in a patch of grass along the riverbank, and gives him the side eye. I am cracking up. Tod practices saying Hi and manages to walk to her without falling over.
TOD: May I call you by your first name?
VIXEY: Oh! Oh, sure, why not!
So begins the courtship of the foxes.
All three birds watch as the “expert fisherfox” tries to impress the already much-caught girl. “OHHHHH,” groan Big Momma and I in unison. The fishing trip ends with everyone rolling on the ground in spasms of laughter. Tod has a hissy fit and calls Vixey a silly, empty-headed female. Lay off her, Tod! She: “Hey, just a minute! I mean, you’ve got a nerve! Why don’t you grow up!” You tell him, Vixey. Big Momma intervenes to do some damage control.
BIG MOMMA: That’s no way to talk to Vixey!
TOD: Aw, raspberries! I’ve had it!
AW, RASPBERRIES! I’m saying this as much as I can from now on. Big Momma sings an off-tune song about natural attraction and the foxes make up and start cuddling. The bird duo laughs maturely and gets shooed off by the owl. Boomer just did the Hoo hoo hoo hoo Tigger laugh and suddenly things about this character make a lot more sense. Also, I don’t really understand this movie: is it supposed to be a musical or not? Every time they start singing they get maybe a verse in and then peter off.
Vixey gives Tod a tour of the forest. They watch a family of quail cross their path; there are seven chicks.
VIXEY: (thoughtfully) Six. I think six would be just right.
TOD: Six? … Six what?
VIXEY: (giggles)
Oh, men. We end the evening beside a flower-bedecked lake with a gargantuan moon shining over it.
No Hunting, reads Amos. He cuts the wire to the reserve and enters with Copper. The dog moves through the forest using that handy schnozz of his, accompanied by the menacing beat of drums. He growls and Amos sets a trap along the path Tod will probably take to get to water.
The foxes wake up. Tod has never been happier. Neither has Vixey. I feel slightly awkward watching the morning-after nuzzling of two cartoon foxes. They frolic through a sunny field.
Not A trap. FIVE traps. “Amos, you crafty old coot! Ha ha, the devil himself couldn’t have done no better!” So now hunters are in a class with the devil. I bet this movie made a lot of people mad.
Good thing Tod has Vixey with him. He has no street smarts; she, on the other hand –“I don’t want to go in there. It’s too quiet.”
Copper senses something and starts growling.
“Tod, be careful!” Tod, you’re an idiot! Somehow he manages to set off yet avoid getting caught by every single trap Amos set. Copper takes off after him. The foxes run away. Tod sends Vixey on to the burrow and stays behind to delay Copper.
The ex-friends start circling each other and growling unpleasantly. Tod has something to protect now; he has as much at stake as Copper did when Chief went down. Copper lunges at Tod but the fox bites him first. I am not liking this! Tod runs to the burrow and the foxes are trapped: Copper digging at one end, Amos with a gun and smoking them out at the other. Amos joins Copper and the foxes take a chance on the fire. They run out and get to a waterfall with a fallen tree spanning it. Hooray, another bridge. They cross it safely, seconds before Copper arrives.
“We’ve got them now!” cries Amos—which isn’t exactly correct—when a huge bear looms up out of freaking nowhere. The grizzly has red eyes and knocks the rifle out of Amos’s hand. The hunter falls down the ravine and gets his foot caught in one of his own traps. Taste of your very awesome medicine there, Amos. The bear advances but Copper jumps in its way, protecting his master. If I liked Amos more I would be applauding right now; regardless, Copper’s show of force vs. a bear is pretty impressive, even for a fictional dog—he goes for the throat, the head, all of it. Amos uses the distraction to try to reach his gun, which is (of course) stuck in a bush just out of reach.
The bear gets a good hit in, though. Up on a ridge somewhere, Tod hears Copper’s cry of pain and stops.
Copper gets bowled all the way across the ravine and can’t even stand. The bear lifts a claw to deliver another blow, when Tod shows up like a sleek red bullet and lands on its head. He manages to lead the bear back up the ravine to the waterfall before finally getting swatted onto the tree bridge. The bear, which I swear is rabid, follows him onto the tree. Its weight breaks the trunk, and bear and fox go plunging to the depths. This better end well.
Tod stumbles out of the water, almost making it to shore. Copper finds him. “Tod?” They stare at each other for a minute. Then there’s a click—and Tod is staring up the muzzle of Amos’s gun. Copper runs forward and stands over Tod. He won’t move, even when ordered to. He just looks at Amos, who lowers his gun in confusion. Copper whines. Amos lets his hands fall to his sides and says, “Well, come on boy. Let’s go home.” Tod watches them walk away. Copper looks back, and they smile at each other. Both limp away in opposite directions. I think this scene used to have me bawling too. It’s disturbing me, honestly, that I haven’t shed a single tear during this viewing.
Back at the ol’ farm, the bird mafia is at it again and I cannot tell you how much I don’t care. Ah ha—they get shown up: the caterpillar has become a fluorescent butterfly. It flutters away and Big Momma settles in for a nap, which is interrupted by Amos’s howls. Farmess (whose name I still do not know) is wrapping his foot. Heh. “Your foot is fine! You’ll soon be yourself! Oh… land sakes. I don’t know if I like that.” She busts into peals of laughter and he crosses his arms and glares. The dogs watch him from their kennels. Copper falls asleep dreaming of his childhood with Tod. I would consider this cheesy but it’s those voices, those adorable voices! They RETURNED!
From a ridge far above, Tod and Vixey look down contentedly on the neighboring homes.
It’s over!
-follow this link for the complete list of The Fox & the Hound posts-
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