Rankin/Bass: The First Easter Rabbit, the Forgotten 1976 Classic

When I think about holiday specials, it always feels like Easter gets quietly pushed to the sidelines while Christmas takes center stage. Nothing ever quite captures that same cultural weight or sense of tradition. And honestly, a lot of studios have tried to recreate the magic that Rankin/Bass Productions perfected decades ago, but very few have come close. There was something uniquely sincere and slightly offbeat about their storytelling that felt timeless, even when it leaned into the strange.

Rankin/Bass Productions took a genuine swing outside their comfort zone with The First Easter Rabbit. Released in 1976, it came at a time when their Christmas specials had already become cultural fixtures, making this feel less like a follow-up and more like an experiment. And that is exactly what makes it so interesting to revisit. It sits slightly apart from the rest of their catalog, almost like a creative detour that allowed them to explore something more delicate and introspective.

What stands out immediately is the shift in animation style. Moving away from their signature stop-motion “Animagic,” they opted for traditional hand-drawn animation, and that choice changes everything about how the story feels. There is a softness to it, a gentler visual rhythm that leans into a more storybook aesthetic. It does not have the tactile charm of their stop-motion worlds, but instead offers something quieter and more intimate, like flipping through the pages of a well-worn children’s book.

That tone connects directly to its inspiration, The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. The influence is not just structural or thematic on the surface; it runs through the emotional core of the special. At its heart is that enduring idea of transformation, of becoming “real” through love, belief, and time. It is a surprisingly reflective concept for a holiday special, and one that gives The First Easter Rabbit a deeper resonance than you might expect. Instead of relying purely on seasonal charm, it leans into something more universal, that quiet longing to matter, to be seen, and ultimately, to be real.

What really pulls me in, though, is the voice work. Having Burl Ives return as narrator gives the special an immediate sense of continuity, especially if you grew up with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. There is a comforting familiarity in hearing him again, this time as the gentle, reflective G.B. Alongside him, Robert Morse brings a kind of nervous charm to Stuffy. At the same time, legends like Paul Frees and Stan Freberg add that unmistakable layer of classic voice acting polish that defined so many specials of that era.

Another detail I find endlessly interesting is the animation history behind it. The work was handled by Topcraft, a studio that would eventually evolve into Studio Ghibli. Knowing that connection adds a whole new layer of appreciation when you watch it now. It is like seeing an early thread in a much larger tapestry of animation history.

And then there is the setting, which still makes me smile because of how oddly creative it is. For reasons that only make sense in that very Rankin/Bass way, Easter Valley is located at the North Pole. It is such a peculiar choice, but it allowed them to play with contrast, this idea of an eternal spring oasis tucked inside a frozen, wintry world they already knew so well from their Christmas specials. That contrast gives the special its own identity, even if it visually echoes other productions.

Speaking of visuals, the character designs by Paul Coker Jr. will feel instantly familiar if you have seen ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas or Frosty the Snowman. There is a consistency there that almost makes all these specials feel like they exist in the same slightly surreal universe.

The First Easter Rabbit is one of those forgotten holiday curiosities that deserves a little more attention. It may not have the same cultural footprint as the Christmas classics, but it carries that same heart, that same willingness to be a little weird, and that same quiet charm that made Rankin/Bass specials so memorable in the first place.