There was an era (and by “an era” I think I mean “a period of three years”) when Disney set aside the cavalcade of animated princesses and made a couple of unusual movies. They were unusual because of their settings, unusual because of their gentle skew to the adult, and unusual because they were good. Perhaps the best, certainly the most adult of these movies, is The Rocketeer.

And by “adult” I mean, “Turn the Lech-o-meter down a notch, Tim Dalton, damn.”

“The Rocka-who?”

When I was ten, I thought this movie was the best movie ever, mostly because it was partially about moviemaking. (Also, I guess there was a plane and a rocket and Nazis and whatever.) Watching it again, it’s even more about moviemaking than I remember, from the hat-tip to the Errol Flynn Robin Hood to the mirror-couples of the bad actress in said Robin Hoodish scene and the couple in the South Seas nightclub, both couples gasping dramatically and dropping over-the-top reactions as the hero flailed around. I saw what you did there, movie! AND I LIKED IT.

Bonus: Someone makes an attempt to explain why the Rocketeer doesn’t boil the skin off his own back every time he fires up! It sounds super-dubious, but at least someone took the time to point at the mechanism and say, “This is how you don’t blow up when wearing this item,” which I appreciate, because I had forgotten that part as a kid, and on a recent rewatch I spent the first forty minutes wondering what kind of weapons-grade insulation was in that leather jacket.

Which reminds me: while some aspects of the plot don’t hold up to what I remember (man, Jenny was everyone’s dreaded “talk about your feelings” girlfriend for a while there, wasn’t she? Eesh), I wholeheartedly love this movie’s aesthetic, from his helmet to the notes scribbled next to the phone in the little café. And aside from Lothar The Dick Tracy Intern, who seems slightly out of place, the rest of the supporting cast is a DREAM. Name someone, ever, and they’re in this movie. I mean, Jan from The Office is in this movie. If you’re ever playing a game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, knowledge of The Rocketeer is crucial.

Spot the Blade Runner cast member in that picture. Aaaaaand, GO!

But let’s face it, despite Bill Campbell being totally competent cast-wise, Timothy Dalton walks away with this movie. Or, more accurately, he drugs the movie and brings it to his enormous Egyptian-tomb-house so he can leer all over it when it wakes up. (I know it’s supposed to be dangerous and skeevy, but I could not stop cracking up when Jennifer Connelly is running her line with him and he’s, like, Soapdish levels of over the top. He has an entire closet full of peignoirs. When she’s like, “Do you want me to try this on?” and he smarms, “Desperately,” then checks his teeth in the mirror, I cracked UP.)

For those who missed this plot point, there is apparently a trading card about it. Share with your friends, so they’re In The Know!

Other than the boudoir hilarity, my favorite scene is the good old-fashioned one-up standoff near the end.

Cliff demands Jenny’s release! Neville holds Jenny hostage! Cliff tells the mobsters Neville’s a Nazi, and they point their guns at him! Neville summons the entire German army out of the woods! The FBI shows up! There’s a blimp! The FBI and the mobsters work in tandem! Jenny calls her fleet of dragons dawn from the sky! Meteors everywhere!

Then it’s all a big blur of Tim Dalton chewing scenery and delivering a shaky German accent with total commitment. (“It wasn’t lies. It was acting.” Classic.) Also I guess there’s a daring rescue in a blimp or whatever. Fun fact: that blimp has windows and walls made out of spun glass. If you sneeze, you’re going down.

Then Dalton takes off in a malfunctioning rocket, and then he blows up, and then the blimp blows up, and then Lothar chases them across the top of the balloon, and also Howard Hughes rescues them in his heliplane. (This movie’s kind of hilarious, coincidence-wise.)

Sure, he’s in a flaming dirigible with Howard Hughes on his tail, but dammit, with Tim Dalton it’s always Leer O’Clock.

All in all, The Rocketeer ages much better than almost any other Disney movie (with the possible exception of The Journey of Natty Gann, which is also awesome and which I will talk about some other time, unless I already have, in which case I should just go find it, but I’m lazy). Decopunk is a genre that I will always be in favor of, if only because the clothes are awesome. Except that for some reason they had her facing so that you could see her side zipper, which just seems careless. There’s a whole other side with NO ZIPPER. Just use that!

And now, what is possibly my favorite trailer of the year: a fan-trailer for an 1930s release of the movie. Best. Trailer. Ever.

Pictures courtesy of the amazing fansite at The Rocketeer Resource Page.