Ferdinand the Bull

In a world that often demands brute force and pushes aggressive stereotypes, it’s surprising to find the answer to true courage in an animated short from almost a century ago. "Ferdinand the Bull" isn't just a forgotten gem from Disney's golden age; it’s a timeless manifesto on the right to be vulnerable and the liberating power of embracing who we truly are. Get ready to discover why this classic, clocking in at under ten minutes, still has so much to teach us today, proving that the deepest messages can come from the simplest stories. When looking at the core of this short, I immediately notice how touching its pacifist heart is. I can't help but feel deeply connected to the main message: we don't have to bow down to the aggressive and violent expectations the world often forces on us. Thinking about the film, it became clear to me that its critique of masculine stereotypes and social pressure is incredibly well-woven into the story, without ever feeling preachy or too educational. The director's choice to explore the right to be gentle and vulnerable—even when you look like a massive, intimidating arena bull—brings an emotional depth I rarely see handled with such sensitivity in movies. It’s a huge relief to watch something that tells us, in such a comforting way, that embracing who we are on the inside is actually our greatest strength. What gets to me the most, aside from the main character's instant charm, is the genuinely peaceful vibe in every single frame. It’s wild to think that a character with such a pure, gentle nature was created in 1938—a turbulent time when the shadow of World War II was already hanging over Europe and global tension was terrifyingly real. Ferdinand was definitely a huge source of inspiration and a quiet act of protest back then. The overall vibe I get while watching is incredibly nostalgic, yet it carries a historical weight of resistance that still holds up today. Pacing and Slapstick Charm From a technical and storytelling standpoint, my overall take is definitely on the positive side. Still, I can't deny that there were moments where the pacing seemed to drag a bit. In a few specific scenes, it felt like the movie was trying to stretch out some physical gags longer than necessary, maybe just to pad the runtime or stick to the standard slapstick comedy of the era. Despite these slight lulls in the story, the script totally redeems itself by perfectly balancing the comedy—so typical of cartoons meant to entertain kids—with brilliant visual gags. The sharp dialogue and the funny visual caricatures of the animators in the bullfight scene caught me off guard and kept me hooked pretty much until the very end. To wrap up my thoughts on this little under-ten-minute gem, my final feeling is just pure fondness and appreciation. I really loved how this short pulled me in with such simplicity. I can safely say it's become one of my favorites out of all those early Disney classics that don't rely on established stars like Mickey, Minnie, Donald, or Goofy. For me, the fact that the story stands so strong on its own, without needing the studio's usual heavy hitters, is the biggest proof of how good it is. All in all, Ferdinand the Bull is a timeless masterpiece that uses the lightheartedness of animation to deliver a deep reflection on self-acceptance and peace. If I had to give a piece of advice to anyone looking to kick back and dive into a bit of cinema history, I'd say just sit down, hit play, and let yourself enjoy this historic piece. It's a short and sweet experience that totally deserves a round of applause and easily earns my positive review. I highly recommend taking ten minutes out of your day to watch this short and take away your own lessons from this fragrant flower grown in the middle of chaos.