If they had had the balls to go through with that, it would probably be the most spectacular case of having your cake and eating it in the history of cake and eating and having. Because he had gone insane with loneliness. You see, directors Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise originally envisioned the gargoyles as being in the movie, but that only Quasimodo would ever see or talk to them or interact with them in any way.
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Having said that, I will admit the movie misses a HUGE opportunity with the gargoyles. These first few scenes are just breathtaking, with the music and the terrific animation infusing everything with a dark, eerie beauty.Ĭharacters like the gargoyles (oh, and the pedant in me could not rest if I didn’t point out that they’re technically grotesques, not gargoyles) are just part and parcel of the genre, either you’re on board with that or you’re not. He looks at the baby’s face, and is so horrified that he instantly decides to drown it and is only stopped at the last moment by the Archdeacon played by David Ogden Stiers (hey where were you when the mother was looking for sanctuary? Putting on your slippers?). Frollo examines the bundle, which has started crying. Frollo grabs the bundle off her and she slips, cracking her head against the stone steps and dying instantly. Frollo assumes that it’s stolen goods and, because he’s a hands-on kind of government official, runs her down on his black hell charger outside the gates of Notre Dame Cathedral as she desperately pleads for sanctuary. Anyway, one of the gypsies, a woman, makes a break for it holding a bundle. But I’ll get more into Jay’s performance as we go along.
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The perfect voice for the part, and an actor who knows how to use it like an exquisitely tuned Stradivarius. What can I say about Tony Jay’s performance in this movie that’s going to do justice to it? He is just flawless. Every so often doing this blog I come across something that I have to describe that’s already been said a million time before. Bells of Notre Dame is a beautifully written song, with some gorgeously intricate lyrics. “A story” he says “of a man, and a monster.” Those of you who attended the disembowling of Pocahontas a fortnight prior may remember that I was pretty hard on lyricist Stephen Schwartz but now is the time for kudos. Clopin is a gypsy street entertainer who acts as our narrator, telling the local children the story of the bell-ringer of Notre Dame. And then, as quickly as it began it’s over and we’re zooming down through the streets of Paris to the opening strains of The Bells of Notre Dame sung by Clopin (Paul Kandel-fucking phenomenal). It’s a moment of stunning, raw power, easily the equal of the opening moment of The Lion King.
We begin with the film-makers essentially giving us a defiant two-finger salute, the twin bell towers of Notre Dame towering over the clouds (so what if the cathedral isn’t nearly that tall shut up it’s pretty!) while Alan Menken’s Hellfire theme blasts like a glorious doomsday.
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