You would think that in this, the month of his 75th birthday, Mickey Mouse would be booked up the wazoo with special celebrations. But no, the Nov. 18 milestone has been surprisingly underplayed, drawing far less attention than his much-trumpeted 60th birthday, which drew a TV special. The Mick actually got more exposure early this year, when the U.S. Supreme Court gave Disney the ungainly right to extend its copyright on early properties, including Mickey's very first movie, "Steamboat Willie."
Mickey did fly down to Disney World for his big day, when he was honored, so to speak, by the unveiling of 75 statues of him designed by celebrities including Elton John, Tom Hanks and John Travolta. But with so little going on otherwise, he has had a lot of free time on his gloved hands. When I flew out to visit him at his beachside home in Malibu, the one designed after his image, big ears and all, he was spending a quiet weekend watching tapes of the old "Mickey Mouse Club" and trying on old costumes. That majorette outfit, I can assure you, still fits him perfectly.
Recent news from Chicago had laid him low. "It's so sad about Kup," he said, emotion tugging at his high-pitched voice as he recalled the good times he and Minnie spent with Irv and Essee. "Did you know that he was one of the first people in the media to advance the rights of animated actors? Remember that show he did with Harry Truman and Shecky Greene and Betty Boop?"
Most fans don't know that Minnie has been in the AARF (Animated Actors Retirement Facility) for several years now. A lifetime of going "eek!" at mice -- think of the confusion -- hadn't helped. Not using my noodle, I thought that seeing the new "Looney Tunes" movie might cheer Mickey up. But the prospect of seeing a bunch of Warner Bros. cartoon stars -- the competition -- interacting with the young hunk from "The Mummy" left him cold.
"I really don't like the idea of cartoon artists and flesh actors intermingling," he said. "It's one thing for you and me to have a nice tray of cheese together. But in pictures, we should stay in our own dimensions.
"You know, Donald did some scenes with Walt on 'The Wonderful World of Disney,' and he was never the same actor after that. It really messed up his timing. He was always gazing past the camera, losing focus."
Mickey is still doing well as a corporate symbol, greeting people at theme parks (or letting his many stand-ins do that in his stead) and appearing on stamps and such. But for all the smiles he has brought to children's faces since "Steamboat Willie" in 1928, changing times have pushed him to the pop cultural margins. In the age of "The Simpsons" and "South Park" -- and how about that nasty new animated series starring a real-life mickey mouse, Robert Evans? - - he is perceived as a relic from the past, one square cat (excuse the expression). Though he's three years younger than Paul Newman, his acting career is all but dormant.
"Dumbo was smart enough to get into talent management," he said. "He's doing great. But I've been at the mercy of some awful scripts." In one short, he unhappily traded brains with a monster. In a forthcoming straight-to-video feature, he gets "mouse-napped" and Minnie (seen only via previously shot footage, like Livia on "The Sopranos" after Nancy Marchand died) hires a Sherlock Holmes type to find him.
Emphasizing that it was Minnie's big day, too, Mickey scoffed -- if, with his squeaky pipes, that's possible -- at the decision by Disney bigwigs to stop celebrating what they call "character birthdays." An executive from Synergy and Special Projects has declared that marking the years can screw up the way these superstars are perceived by kids who count on them never growing old.
At the same time, the Disney brass doesn't mind messing with Mickey's wholesome image. A marketeer hired away from Nike and "Space Jam" star Michael Jordan scored what he undoubtedly thought was a coup by getting Sarah Jessica Parker to wear a clinging T-shirt with Mickey's likeness on it in a steamy scene on "Sex and the City." Not exactly the same as wearing Mickey on your wrist.
The mouse, who doesn't have cable, not even the Disney Channel (he's never heard of Kim Possible), frowned over the "Sex and the City" stunt. "That sort of thing is more up Bugs' alley, don't you think?"
Having raised the subject of his great rival, he became, well, animated, discussing their differences. "Look, Bugs is a brilliant comic, a master verbalist," he said, stirring the chocolate milk in his Goofy glass. "His timing is better than anyone's this side of Bob Hope, may he rest in peace. But people forget that I could be pretty naughty, too. I did a lot of sneaky things over the years. I got into my share of trouble. I played tricks on people.
"OK, OK, Bugs was the upstart, the wiseguy, the prankster who was always winking at the grownups. I was the softie, the true blue friend, the epitome of decency. I was the dreamer. But is there anything wrong with that?"
Humming his old departed friend Jiminy Cricket's theme, "When You Wish Upon a Star," he got an intense look on his face. "Look, everyone knows what a genius Uncle Walt was. Everyone knows he changed the culture. And everyone knows he couldn't have done that without me. Right?"
Sing it everyone: M-I-C-K-E-Y. Why? Because after all these years, the mouse now needs us to like him more than we need him to like us.
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