
Not an athlete or a physically imposing figure, but an artist with a vision that resonated with him. “I’ve had such a wonderful life and one day I just said to myself, ‘I should write down a few things,’ not with the idea of making a book, but just for my own enjoyment, just to write down everything that’s happened in my life,” he explained.įor a young and reserved Bluth, Walt Disney was an archetype of masculinity he could aspire to.
Crossword wizard behind oz professional#
I wanted them to have something to take home that could make their lives a little better.”Ĭompiled of professional anecdotes and innermost thoughts, Bluth’s recently released, tell-all autobiography, “Somewhere Out There: My Animated Life,” opens the vault of his memories in his own uniquely philosophical words. “If I was going to make an animated film, I didn’t want to just make people laugh. When you’re in the service of people and you help them out, there’s a source of joy that comes from that,” he said. “I discovered over the years that the more you give, the more you get. Of the 11 feature projects he realized over 20 years of intense dedication - often working with limited budgets and against the grain of the industry - some of the most illustrious include “The Secret of NIMH” (1982), “An American Tail” (1986), “The Land Before Time” (1988), “All Dogs Go to Heaven” (1989) and “Anastasia” (1997).įor the animator raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, these wondrous fables were the manifestation of his divine purpose meant to be shared with the world. Led by charming mice, adorable dinosaurs, determined princesses and myriad other fantastical beings, Bluth’s collection of animated features rivaled the output of Walt Disney Studios during the 1980s and ‘90s in their artistic quality, all of them magnificently hand-drawn, and, even more significantly for Bluth, in their thematic substance.

Everything about it said, ‘That’s where you should go,’” Bluth told The Times over the phone from his home in Scottsdale, Ariz., where he has lived and worked for several decades. Born within just a few months of the premiere of Disney’s first animated feature, “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” in 1937, his life has run parallel to the history of the medium in the U.S. Today an animation legend in his own hard-fought right, Bluth, 84, recalls riding his horse into town to watch movies at the local cinema as a farm boy in Payson, Utah.

Don Bluth first found his “laughing place” - a term he uses to refer to an intangible mental refuge from the drudgery of existence - in the films of his lifelong hero, Walt Disney.
