I hadn't heard of this film until I read an article about it on the Unknown Movies website, which made me curious. As a cartoonist and illustrator myself, I'm an admirer of Richard Williams's work - I rate Ziggy's Gift as one of the finest Christmas specials of all time, and even though Who Framed Roger Rabbit stopped being one of my favourite films when I got past the age of sixteen, I still have the highest of regard for the amount of work, care and attention to detail that went into creating the visuals - but it seems the man has his faults, most notably a propensity for going over budget and over schedule, and this film is a testament of just how far wrong even a super-talented individual like Williams can go, given the right circumstances.<br /><br />Raggedy Ann and Andy is a strange confection that tries to be weird and experimental and off the wall within the confines of a children's cartoon. It tries also to be a musical. It tries to be a thousand and one other things as well - is it a freakout? Is it a mind-blower? Is it a paean to the innocence of childhood imagination? - until it finally collapses under the weight of its own limitless ambitions and aspirations. It's beautifully animated, for the most part, though the bland backgrounds could have used a little more attention, but even that doesn't count for much when you're confronted with the hallucinogenic absurdity that constitutes much of the 'action' here.<br /><br />There are a number of problems with the film, but let's start with Raggedy Ann and Andy themselves. They're the stars of the show, yet they have no personalities. Actually, we get the message that Andy is a wannabe tough guy ("I'm no girl's toy", he sings) and that Ann has a unique perspective on things because her owner, a little girl called Marcella, carries her upside down, but that's all we get to find out about these dull-as-mud characters because the overwhelming weirdness of this film kicks in not long after. I use the word "weirdness" advisedly, because some weird films can be hugely entertaining, but this is just flat-out strange. The toys and dolls in the playroom are supposed to be cute and lovable, but they're actually bizarre and disturbing. The two marionettes who do and say everything in sync are a prime example of this. But even they're relatively normal compared to the constantly sneezing pirate captain, whose moustache becomes erect and whose groin visibly swells when he first catches sight of a glamorous French doll. Yes, this is supposed to be a children's film! Then there's the music, none of which is memorable, and all of which is sung by actors who can't sing. And to add insult to injury, there's a lot of singing in this film. When Ann and Andy finally make it out of the playroom, the first thing they do is sing a LONG number in the woods about how scared they are, about how they'll always have each other and...yes, we get the message. This seems to go on forever, but at least it brings some semblance of normality back to the film. Not for long, though, because the Camel with the wrinkled knees leads us into a bizarre world where everything looks like it's made from worn and faded denim, and - bad enough that he's clearly a paranoid schizophrenic - he also starts hallucinating. But this is nothing compared to the scenes that follow. The Greedy, a living, breathing. belching, farting, constantly eating pool of taffy, is so trippy, creepy and ultimately disturbing, you'll hardly believe what you're seeing - this is as close to a drug-free psychedelic experience as I've ever seen on film. Then, after a l-o-n-g time spent with the Greedy, along comes the psychotic Sir Leonard Looney and his master King KooKoo, whose throne resembles a urinal. I can't believe I'm actually writing a capsule description of a real film here - I just had to rub my eyes and remind myself that I'm not blogging about an overwhelmingly whacked-out nightmare I had. Part of the sequence in Looney Land resembles one of the old Winsor McCay / Little Nemo cartoons, for no good reason other than somebody felt like doing it, probably. All this would be fine if there was some kind of rhyme or reason behind it, but there isn't. These scenes are just strange, and very, very long. Surrealism only works when there's a strong idea behind it, or takes place against some semblance of reality. But NOTHING in these scenes points towards any kind of reality. Take away this element, and you're left with pure self indulgence.<br /><br />As the final scenes unravel, even the animation begins to look less impressive (the pirate ship, ludicrously detailed, jerks about on the water in a manner that suggests some of the cels went missing during the production) and there's a non-event of an ending that simply suggests money ran out. Even at a meagre 86 minutes in length, the film feels like a never-ending ordeal, and it's understandable why it flopped on its original release. Animation buffs will probably scratch their heads and wonder just how Williams managed to flub this one so spectacularly, but he did, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.