Original animation from Steamboat Willie
Posted: Wed Jul 09, 2025 4:54 am
The Blood and Honey film is an adaptation that does not utilize the Pooh stories for much more than audience familiarity. It utilizes the public domain works primarily as a shock factor to attract audience attention. Generally it grafts the iconography of these stories onto an indie horror film that would remain fundamentally unchanged if all of the Pooh elements were stripped away. Beneath the surface of this iconography is a standard slasher film playing in the mold of what has come before.
A book cover stating "The House at Pooh Corner" by A. A. Milne with an illustration of Pooh.
The original Pooh stories, like The House at Pooh Corner (1928), can be fully read online.
This adaptation does not diminish the original stories that still exist and are available to everyone. Nor does it create a new monopoly on the stories, as these Pooh stories remain in the public domain. Instead, it highlights the underlying conditions of filmmaking that surround the film during the time in which it was made. By entering the public domain in the 2020s, newly public domain works give rise to modern adaptations that reflect the popular trends of the moment. They fit within the confines of the corporate, risk-averse IP conditions that drive filmmaking. And yes, many are becoming franchises, itself a reflection of the current moment. Frake-Waterfield has expanded upon his original Blood and Honey film with a direct sequel as well as the greater Twisted Childhood Universe, pulling from other public domain works such as the original Bambi and Peter Pan.
Similarly to Blood and Honey, the recent Screamboat adaptation of Steamboat Willie by Steven LaMorte is also a grafting of a public domain work onto a more standard narrative. In a 2025 interview with Paul Marsh, LaMorte reveals that he had been working on a Staten Island Ferry horror film since the early 2010s. However, following Steamboat Willie’s passage into the public domain in 2024, LaMorte reworked the film into an adaptation. In contrast to Blood and Honey, Screamboat functions as a metatextual accurate cleaned numbers list from frist database film commenting not only on the original work, but also the nature of the public domain. It is not solely a horror film based on a public domain work, but a horror film about corporate copyright terms and how these long terms may alienate creators from their original works. This perspective becomes especially vivid in the film’s midsection, which recounts the story of Willie’s separation from Walt Disney in a visually striking animated flashback.
Mickey Mouse standing behind a steamboat's wheel and spinning it while whistling.
(1928) that inspired Screamboat (2025).
Utilizing animation reminiscent of the original Steamboat Willie cartoon, the film recounts an old man’s tale of how Willie was separated from his creator, an animated depiction of Walt Disney. Much like in real life, the film too omits inclusion of Ub Iwerks as a creator of Mickey Mouse, reinforcing how authorship itself can be obscured by copyright mythologies. In the course of the tale, Walt falls overboard leaving Willie behind locked away in the ferry’s underbelly. Upon Willie’s release, after ninety-five years, he goes off on a rampage killing and terrorizing anyone that he comes across. Willie’s violence is framed not just as horror, but as retribution—an eruption of neglected cultural memory finally freed from captivity.
The middle animation segment of Screamboat utilizes the public domain nature of Steamboat Willie by formally adapting something that was previously restricted by copyright. This unique passage during the film’s middle point sticks in the viewer’s mind, elevating the work a step beyond pure shock value. It instead evokes an iconic character to examine the legacy of copyright control. Through Willie’s violent acts, the film suggests that long copyright terms can turn cultural icons into imprisoned relics. Screamboat critiques the copyright maximalism that the Disney company helped enshrine, using one of Disney’s earliest icons. Together, Blood and Honey and Screamboat reflect two poles of public domain horror—one exploitative, the other expressive. But both are artifacts of a specific cultural and creative moment.
A poster for the 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story. It is red and features silhouettes of characters extending their arms and legs in dance.
Pulling from a long public domain tale, West Side Story adapts Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to 1950s New York City.
Placed in the context of this broader moment in filmmaking, public domain horror is not an aberration but a logical outcome. Despite this, the context that surrounds the films now will not always be in living memory. In many years, when reflecting on this particular filmmaking environment, these horror adaptations might be seen as an odd and quirky moment of filmmaking. In actuality, these films are emblematic of the cultural moment in which they were produced, highlighting an evolving landscape of intellectual property and creative voice. Ultimately, these films probably won’t reach the same cultural impact as adaptations of other public domain works like 1961’s West Side Story (Romeo and Juliet) or 1959’s Ben-Hur (Ben-Hur). Still, they will remain important and interesting cultural artifacts that inform future generations as snapshots and reflections of the conditions in which they were made. Looking back at the past through creative works informs us of the societal and creative mores of that moment, and helps to anchor us in a contextual reference point to our own moment. Maybe these films will be celebrated themselves when they inevitably enter the public domain… in nearly 100 years.
A book cover stating "The House at Pooh Corner" by A. A. Milne with an illustration of Pooh.
The original Pooh stories, like The House at Pooh Corner (1928), can be fully read online.
This adaptation does not diminish the original stories that still exist and are available to everyone. Nor does it create a new monopoly on the stories, as these Pooh stories remain in the public domain. Instead, it highlights the underlying conditions of filmmaking that surround the film during the time in which it was made. By entering the public domain in the 2020s, newly public domain works give rise to modern adaptations that reflect the popular trends of the moment. They fit within the confines of the corporate, risk-averse IP conditions that drive filmmaking. And yes, many are becoming franchises, itself a reflection of the current moment. Frake-Waterfield has expanded upon his original Blood and Honey film with a direct sequel as well as the greater Twisted Childhood Universe, pulling from other public domain works such as the original Bambi and Peter Pan.
Similarly to Blood and Honey, the recent Screamboat adaptation of Steamboat Willie by Steven LaMorte is also a grafting of a public domain work onto a more standard narrative. In a 2025 interview with Paul Marsh, LaMorte reveals that he had been working on a Staten Island Ferry horror film since the early 2010s. However, following Steamboat Willie’s passage into the public domain in 2024, LaMorte reworked the film into an adaptation. In contrast to Blood and Honey, Screamboat functions as a metatextual accurate cleaned numbers list from frist database film commenting not only on the original work, but also the nature of the public domain. It is not solely a horror film based on a public domain work, but a horror film about corporate copyright terms and how these long terms may alienate creators from their original works. This perspective becomes especially vivid in the film’s midsection, which recounts the story of Willie’s separation from Walt Disney in a visually striking animated flashback.
Mickey Mouse standing behind a steamboat's wheel and spinning it while whistling.
(1928) that inspired Screamboat (2025).
Utilizing animation reminiscent of the original Steamboat Willie cartoon, the film recounts an old man’s tale of how Willie was separated from his creator, an animated depiction of Walt Disney. Much like in real life, the film too omits inclusion of Ub Iwerks as a creator of Mickey Mouse, reinforcing how authorship itself can be obscured by copyright mythologies. In the course of the tale, Walt falls overboard leaving Willie behind locked away in the ferry’s underbelly. Upon Willie’s release, after ninety-five years, he goes off on a rampage killing and terrorizing anyone that he comes across. Willie’s violence is framed not just as horror, but as retribution—an eruption of neglected cultural memory finally freed from captivity.
The middle animation segment of Screamboat utilizes the public domain nature of Steamboat Willie by formally adapting something that was previously restricted by copyright. This unique passage during the film’s middle point sticks in the viewer’s mind, elevating the work a step beyond pure shock value. It instead evokes an iconic character to examine the legacy of copyright control. Through Willie’s violent acts, the film suggests that long copyright terms can turn cultural icons into imprisoned relics. Screamboat critiques the copyright maximalism that the Disney company helped enshrine, using one of Disney’s earliest icons. Together, Blood and Honey and Screamboat reflect two poles of public domain horror—one exploitative, the other expressive. But both are artifacts of a specific cultural and creative moment.
A poster for the 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story. It is red and features silhouettes of characters extending their arms and legs in dance.
Pulling from a long public domain tale, West Side Story adapts Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to 1950s New York City.
Placed in the context of this broader moment in filmmaking, public domain horror is not an aberration but a logical outcome. Despite this, the context that surrounds the films now will not always be in living memory. In many years, when reflecting on this particular filmmaking environment, these horror adaptations might be seen as an odd and quirky moment of filmmaking. In actuality, these films are emblematic of the cultural moment in which they were produced, highlighting an evolving landscape of intellectual property and creative voice. Ultimately, these films probably won’t reach the same cultural impact as adaptations of other public domain works like 1961’s West Side Story (Romeo and Juliet) or 1959’s Ben-Hur (Ben-Hur). Still, they will remain important and interesting cultural artifacts that inform future generations as snapshots and reflections of the conditions in which they were made. Looking back at the past through creative works informs us of the societal and creative mores of that moment, and helps to anchor us in a contextual reference point to our own moment. Maybe these films will be celebrated themselves when they inevitably enter the public domain… in nearly 100 years.