Watership Down (1978) The Crown Prince of Kindertrauma

Since its original release in 1978, several generations, especially in the United Kingdom, Watership Down has been synonymous with trauma. Following subsequent television broadcasts, Martin Rosen’s adaptation of Richard Adams’ novel has secured its place in animated film history, not least because of the controversy provoked by its brutal violence and open confrontation with mortality that continues to be seen as out of place in a “cartoon about rabbits”. The BFI’s 4K restoration of Watership Down therefore allows for multiple reappraisals, some of which are included in this edition.

The story is a simple quest narrative, utilised in many children’s books, of animals seeking to escape the damage wrought open their homes by humans. Led by Hazel (John Hurt) and guided by the visions of his brother Fiver (Richard Briers), a group of rabbits leave their warren and seek a new site for their colony. Along the way they encounter roads and cars, hawks and cats, and in the film’s final act, a totalitarian rabbit society (seriously) presided over by the fascistic General Woundwort (Harry Andrews). 

Looking at the film in this vibrant restoration, it is visually striking thanks to its different animation styles. The backdrops look like water colours, the movement of water expressed by reflections that create a patterned dance. Mist takes on especially evocative properties and the animators use lingering static shots with changes in light to illustrate sunrise. When rain falls, it does so both in the foreground and runs down faces. The opening sequence of a rabbit creation myth draws upon the aesthetics of aboriginal art, and our introduction to Hazel is portrait-esque, before the main style takes over. Nightmarish visions as well as surreal sequences populate the film, most famously in a musical sequence where the song ‘Bright Eyes’ fits perfectly with the visual poetry. 

The detailed design extends also to the different and distinct characters. Hazel and Fiver make an engaging pair of protagonists, and as the film progresses, Bigwig (Michael Graham-Cox) steadily rises in prominence. There is minimal physical anthropomorphism: typically in animated films, animals gesticulate like humans, but here body language is used to express mood and emotion, from rabbits sprawling in a way that is not overdone, to Fiver’s wide eyes, to the physical violence inflicted upon the rabbits. Further world-building is conveyed through rabbit-lore and language, such as their deity Frith and terminology such as ‘roo-do-do’ for ‘car’. Perhaps most significant is the rabbit hierarchy, with ‘howsa’ and other terms indicating where each member of the community belongs. Breaks from this hierarchy are a major cause of conflict, and the film’s infamous violence. 

It should be noted that while Watership Down does feature graphically bloody moments, they are far from gratuitous. One rabbit’s death by a hawk is not even seen – the character is suddenly gone. A fight between Bigwig and Woundwort is narratively motivated and thematically rich, the viewer understanding even as they wince, and a dog attack viscerally expresses the danger posed to the rabbits. The most brutal moments, appropriately, are the results of human actions: a recollection of a warren being gassed is the stuff of nightmares, while a sequence involving a snare lingers on the pain of panting and a bloody mouth. All of these make the film a tough watch and probably not suitable for young children, but parents of older children as well as adults themselves can likely find much to discuss in the film’s honest engagement with mortality that is brutal, sometimes lyrical and often moving.

Despite its strengths, the film has some problems. The pacing is often too quick, with insufficient time to linger and feel the emotion. The continuous fades and lack of clear motivational links between scenes does fragment the narrative, such as the jarring introduction of inter-warren warfare. It is notable that the third act, set at the titular location, is not as compelling as what came before, indicating that the film’s strongest aspect is its journey. The character focus is also unbalanced, as Bigwig take centre stage in a way that sidelines Hazel and Fiver, then is rather abruptly abruptly sidelined himself. These aspects do detract from a film that still maintains power after several decades.

The extras on this release are extensive and relate to the film, its history and wider discourse. ‘A Conversation with the Filmmakers’, a 2005 discussion between director Martin Rosen and editor Terry Rawlings, features cheerful banter between the two (shot from an oddly high angle), and their discussion of the back and forth between the voice recordings and the work of the animators. The insights offered here continue with ‘Defining A Style’, a series of interviews from 2005 that indicate the different roles and indeed areas that actors and animators prefer to work on. Recollections of favourite moments as well as camraderie between the speakers make this a particularly warm extra feature, the warmth enhanced by some witty editing. A Storyboard comparison shows the close relationship between initial visualisation and final product and provides further insight into the practices of animation, especially the means of visual emphasis. 

One of the most interesting curios is a Super 8 version of the film, which was home release before VHS. This trimmed version of the film lacks the very end which is unfortunate, and has a very grainy quality with quite muted colours and a whine on the soundtrack. This version is less engaging to watch, but it is interesting to imagine projecting it on one’s living room, back in the day. 

Another historical piece is Super 8 footage of animators at work at Nepenthe Productions. There are some cheesy smiles and the piece feels slightly forced, with little sense of the hubbub of an animation studio. ‘Designing Watership Down’ is a gallery of materials from Humberstone Animation Archive, which shows development such as the stages of movement for the characters. Trailers and TV spots are also included, both from the original and for this release. Notably, these do emphasise the grimness of the film, indicating that those who were shocked by the violence had received fair warning. 

‘Treasures from the BFI National Archive’ offers a selection of so-called ‘gems’ that are only loosely connected to ‘Watership Down’. Once We Were Four is a short film about rabbits with a dryly humorous narration, more story than documentary. Children’s cartoon Bolly in a Space Adventure is charming and more than a little weird, and Cartoonland: Make Believe is an engaging short informational film about how animation is made, especially interesting as one can understand how it would work for children. A less successful inclusion is Rabbits or Profits?, an information film from the Department of Agriculture which gives the clear message that the only good rabbit is a dead rabbit. The subject matter and continually jaunty music will likely make the film distressing and indeed crass for modern audiences. 

The most illuminating extras are two commentaries, one with director Martin Rosen and writer and filmmaker Chris Gore, taken from the 25th Anniversary edition DVD. The pair discuss different animation styles and what makes Watership Down distinct from other animation, including the more lifelike design of rabbits than might be expected. The interplay between Rosen and Gore works like a prolonged and detailed interview, which when considered in the light of many such interviews being too short, is a delight. One particularly entertaining anecdote is Rosen recounting that the film was to have a restricted release in Sweden, and he had to meet with the censors and convince them of the importance of the violence in the film as well as its perspective on death. 

The second commentary was recorded for this release, and features film and animation scholars Dr Catherine Lester from Birmingham University, editor of ‘Watership Down: Perspectives on and Beyond Animated Violence’, and Dr Sam Summers from Middlesex University. These academics perform close analysis of the film’s aesthetic distinctions, reference wider practices within animation and identify the film an allegory of different political lifestyles, not unlike other animated films including Ratatouille and Bee Movie, that present animals exploring human pursuits but having to embrace their animal nature. This discussion is genuine and engaged, academic but never less than accessible. 

The range of extras included on this release demonstrate the continued discourse around Watership Down, a striking piece of work both of its time yet persistently resonant. Despite all the trauma this film has visited on generations to date and more that it may inflict, Watership Down remains a must watch for all fans of animation as well as those interested in the depiction of wildlife and humanity’s impact upon it, not to mention anyone who fancies a harrowing experience. 

Vincent’s Archive – Watership Down (1978)