John Canemaker immortalized all of “The Nine Old Men” in his book.

John Canemaker
Animation Historian

REMEMBERING FRANK THOMAS
Weeping dwarfs, a string-less marionette, an ice-skating fawn and rabbit, a neurotic pirate, love-sick squirrels, a haughty doorknob, romantic canines, a fatherly bear and Mickey Mouse. Those are among the varied characters brought to glorious life on the screen by one of the greatest animators of all time: Frank Thomas.

Thanks to Frank’s golden skills as an actor — his subtle timing, innate good taste and relentless striving for quality and entertainment — many of his sequences are now considered classics. For example, Lady and the Tramp‘s spaghetti dinner and first date is a Disney icon of young love and romance.

Frank was also a pioneer. His “personality animation” of the seven dwarfs grieving and mourning over Snow White stretched the medium’s emotional potential further than many thought possible.

And his work always had enormous audience appeal. Frank was able to imbue his considerable personal charm, keen intelligence and self-effacing good humor into any cartoon lucky enough to receive his attention, be it villain or hero. His Captain Hook’s personality is emotionally three-dimensional; and Mickey Mouse’s star turns in Brave Little Tailor and The Pointer are among his most subtle and sincere performances, thanks to Frank’s magic.

I was privileged to experience Frank Thomas’s charm and intelligence up close, for he was a close friend and mentor for over 30 years. His genius as a filmmaker was equaled by his genius for making friends and keeping them.

I recall with admiration his patience; his curiosity and respect for all aspects and areas of life; his constant striving for quality and perfection whether on the screen or in the influential books on animation he wrote with Ollie Johnston; his kindness and generosity; his never-failing sense of humor and appreciation of the absurd; his blazing honesty. He cared enough to always tell me the truth as he saw it about my films and writings and I am grateful for that.

Frank Thomas’ legacy is captured forever in the great Disney films he contributed so profoundly to, but also in the hearts of those who of us who miss him dearly.

Bill Kroyer
Animation Director, Rhythm & Hues Studios

When I was accepted into the animator’s training program at Disney in 1977, Frank & Ollie were still in their office in the studio working on The Illusion of Life. Although they weren’t animating, they were always available to talk about animation. Two aspects of Frank were apparent: he was always open to new ideas, and he was dedicated to finding the best way to pass his animation experience on to us, the “younger generation.” He would give us chapters of the book to read, saying, “This book is meant for you.” One day I asked him to look at a scene I had animated, and to my surprise, he mentioned our meeting in a talk he gave that night at the Cartoonists Union. He said I had shown him a scene that was full of good animation — too full! He said that I, as a young animator, had made a mistake an “old animator” like him was less likely to make. That is, trying to jam too much into a scene. Frank said that because old animators were too lazy to do more work than necessary, they always analyzed a scene to be sure that the performance they animated was the right one, without unnecessary, superfluous or distracting detail.

Only Frank Thomas, one of the most conscientious and prolific animators in history, could characterize laziness as a positive trait. In fact, the irony of the comment had its effect, and I’ve never forgotten that lesson. As my animation experience evolved from hand-drawn animation to computer graphics, I saw the spirit and wisdom of Frank’s lesson evolve as well. Heaping the complexity of science and technology on a scene does not add to the entertainment, or the illusion of life.

Frank’s art was about illusion, but his legacy will always remain as real and enduring as the young artists who remember him.