A nice film. 'The Littlest Outlaw' isn't extraordinary, though it has a lot of heart and a story that you can't help but get attached to. I enjoyed the mini adventure feel that this has to it, as we follow Pablito on the run. Pablito is portrayed by Andrés Velázquez. He isn't anything special, yet I still care for the character thanks to the likeable nature of Velázquez; similar case for Laila Maley's Celita. Pedro Armendáriz and Rodolfo Acosta are solid in their roles of Torres and Chato, but it's Joseph Calleia who stands out as Padre; becoming a father figure for Pablito, which comes across as charming. The only negative here is the questionable animal welfare. I know nowadays you can make an animal do things without putting them in danger, I just doubt that was as easy a thing to do back in 1955. I don't see any horror stories online though, so perhaps it's not as bad as it looks at times. It's a rather short film, one that probably could've been expanded and built upon. Nevertheless, it is still a production that I had an entertaining enough time watching.

"The Littlest outlaw" is a simple story told in a straightfoward way. There is very little down time. It's filled will great characters. It has nice location photography. It has some real laughs and a nice heart to it. I should watch this one more often.

Of all the movies Walt Disney personally oversaw before his death, "The Littlest Outlaw" is one of the most obscure. Part of the reason probably is that there are no stars in the cast that anyone outside of Mexico would recognize. But I think the main reason the movie has been forgotten is that while it's not awful or merely bad, it is for the most part slight and forgettable. There are a few pleasures here and there, the best being the padre character Joseph Calleia plays - the role is written to make the character human and sympathetic, and Calleia's performance is winning. And in an age of loud and strident family movies, the gentle feel of the movie is refreshing... at first. Eventually, viewers will realize that the movie is lacking considerable "oompth" when it comes to conflict and challenge for the title character. It doesn't help that the movie is pretty predictable throughout, and there are some plot points (like with the stepfather character) that aren't concluded in a satisfying manner. Despite these problems, I'll say again the movie isn't bad, but you'll likely forget it not long after watching it.

It came as a surprise to me that "The Littlest Outlaw" is still circulating in home video, while "Song of the South" has been denied a proper home video release in the United States, for matters related to "political correctness", for while one is accused of racism and left in the vaults, the other is free of critique in spite of its scenes showing cruelty to animals. Not that I am for the banning of these films, Nazi movies or comedies with white actors playing African- Americans with black pancake, because I understand that all these products have to be seen as signs of different times or modes of thought in mankind's existence on Earth, but this Disney double standard seemed to me a good example of entrepreneurial false morality. In this times when bullfighting is almost universally condemned, the last act of "The Littlest Outlaw" is built around one such scene in which animals (and humans, including a toreador who seems to be actually gored by a bull) are hurt for the pleasure of the masses. Unfortunately this sequence is perhaps the only segment in which "The Littlest Outlaw" is less insipid and becomes vivid, because otherwise it is a routine melodrama with equestrian choreography and a little comedy here and there. The Mexican locale is merely an excuse, for the story can happen anywhere, but in the end that intent for narrating something "latino" proved to be the worst aspect of the movie. By 1955 Mexican director Roberto Gavaldón had made fine melodramas, including "The Kneeling Goddess", "In the Palm of Your Hand", "Night Falls", "The Three Perfect Married Women" and powerful rural tales as "Rosauro Castro", "The Shawl of Soledad" and "Green Shadow"; while there were more appreciable works to come after this Disney production: ""Ash Wednesday", "Macario", "Rosa Blanca" and "The Golden Cockerel". But in this tale of boy and horse wandering through the country side, conceived by producer Larry Lansburgh (whose filmography shows a strong liking for animal movies), Gavaldón could not avoid the Disney formula, with a saccharine relationship between boy and horse, odd and funny secondary characters, a silly song called "Doroteo", and a kid that hardly looks as a rural Mexican boy of indigenous ancestry, who would look more comfortable in a suburb of Mexico City. Pedro Armendáriz and Rodolfo Acosta play the rude men they used to portray in their sleep, the rest of the Mexican actors are efficient and likable, and everybody seems to enjoy what they were doing. I am sorry to say that I could not share their enthusiasm.

Friendly family movie from Walt Disney, filmed entirely on-location in Mexico with a largely Mexican cast and crew, concerns runaway boy and his love for the mistreated horse he has taken with him. Directed by the estimable Roberto Gavaldón, later the filmmaker behind the 1960 cult film "Macario", who was potentially a terrific match for this material. Still, though the movie has its heart in the right place, the Hispanic text has been smoothed over for American audiences, resulting in a coy, somewhat stilted slice of white bread. Andrés Velázquez is pretty good as ten-year old Pablito, and the horse is handled well, yet the film never really generated much excitement (with Disney fans or otherwise). **1/2 from ****

source: The Littlest Outlaw

The Littlest Outlaw