n the vein of “Fantasia,” “Make Mine Music” is a collection of short episodes strung together to make a feature-length film. Some chapters, such as one that features the Ken Darby Chorus singing about a blue bayou as a stork glides across rippling, crystal waters, has no real story to speak of; instead, it’s an opportunity for peaceful, calming visuals and the special effects of animated water as singers croon. The same goes for a jazz interlude with Benny Goodman and his orchestra, which boasts a pencil that draws out characters and locations so that they can participate in a juke joint party full of swingin’ revelers.

The animation, though simpler and less detailed than in Disney’s previous, traditional narratives, fits perfectly with the music, which serves as narration; there’s very little dialogue – and virtually none in the first few sequences. Movement, aligning with the soundtrack, tends to be more important than anything else. Andy Russell sings a ballad, which also has no plot, but a musical recitation by Jerry Colonna for “Casey at the Bat” is far more straightforward with a customary premise – mimicking the Goofy cartoons in that it’s almost instructional in its design of a baseball scenario, full of slapstick and extremely exaggerated squash-and-stretch exercises. It’s also delightfully comical.

Unlike in “Fantasia,” this one uses plenty of singers rather than famous orchestral works. Dinah Shore performs as a ballet unfolds, starring two silhouettes (Tatiana Riabouchinska and David Lichine), embellished by pixie-dust components and flying cupids; a fairy tale narrated by the always-recognizable Sterling Holloway (“Peter and the Wolf”) arises, in which characters are represented by various instruments, brought to additional life with animated characters (it’s one of the longest sequences); the Goodman Quartet plays “After You’ve Gone,” showing lines, shapes, lights, colors, and more that shimmy and dance to the fast-paced, jazzy number; and a love story between two hats – Johnnie Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet – raising baby headwear in a glamorous hatbox, is imagined with playful imagery as the Andrews Sisters serenade. Although it’s not the most complicated or memorable on its own, this little tale is quite charming, with its trials and tribulations of a downtrodden male hat struggling to reunite with his lost female hat sweetheart. The final chapter is “The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met,” a tragic opera, with numerous background characters and the titular warbler all done by Nelson Eddy. It’s debatably the best of the lot, not just because of Eddy’s tremendous talent but also the imaginativeness and humorousness of the premise and the character designs.

Creatively akin to previous works, this project came about in a very different way. As World War II began to interfere with moviemaking, what with the bulk of Disney’s staff getting drafted or used by the government for propaganda, package films became a means to keep the features department alive. Six of these assemblages of unrelated short pieces were released, each owing their various successes or failures to the impact and entertainment value of the individual constituents. “Make Mine Music” contains some of the most significant ones, but, as with many of these ensembles, it’s difficult to appreciate the whole when not all of the pieces are of the same artistry and potency. On an interesting side note, the first sequence, “The Martins and the Coys,” sung by radio group The King’s Men, was cut from home video releases due to its displays of gun violence – yet another self-censorship example from the studio that prevents wider audiences from experiencing the full theatrical experience.

– Mike Massie