17-YEAR-OLD BROWARD NATIVE IS VOICE OF ANIMATED ALADDIN

So many wishes, so little time. Ask Scott Weinger what he'd choose if he were granted three wishes, and the 17-year-old Hollywood native who supplies the voice of Aladdin in Disney's newest animated feature is momentarily stumped.

Actually, the first two are a cinch: that Aladdin make $185 million, and that his take be 10 percent. But the third is troublesome.

Finally, after dallying with world peace, a cure for AIDS and other diseases, Weinger's got it.

"Huge, pectoral muscles," he says triumphantly. "Yeah, that's what the third one would be."

A modest request, perhaps, but then Weinger is already living a sort of fantasy life. Shortly after winning the role in Aladdin in 1991, Weinger joined the cast of ABC's Full House (8 p.m. Tuesdays on Channel 10), playing D.J.'s boyfriend in a spinoff role from a guest spot last season.

Back home in South Florida, Broward County commissioners and the city of Hollywood have declared Friday "Scott Weinger Day" and will honor him at a 12:30 p.m. ceremony at the AMC Sheridan Plaza theater. Weinger will sign autographs after the presentation and will also appear at the Sheridan Street Burger King from 4 to 5 p.m.

Not bad for a kid who impulsively decided he wanted to act after meeting an actor at his third-grade career day. Soon after, he landed his first job in a toy commercial. "Both the toy and the commercial failed," he says wryly.

By the sixth grade Weinger had appeared as an extra in TV's Miami Vice, and in 1988, he played Ernest Hemingway's son in the TV miniseries Hemingway. That was followed by dozens of commercials before he hit prime time with a guest-starring role on ABC's Life Goes On and as Gregory Harrison's son on CBS' The Family Man in 1990.

But it wasn't until Aladdin that his career really took off -- and with it, a hectic East Coast-West Coast commute. "I had a commuting lifestyle," says Weinger, who attended the University School of Nova in Davie until last summer, when he moved to Los Angeles with his mother, Barbara, his 14-year-old brother, Todd, and his sister Lauren, 9. "I'd go back to University School one week a month, but I'm a senior this year, and we decided that was kind of a hassle. So we made a permanent move."

Weinger has a tutor in Los Angeles, and the University School "has been very supportive. They've been very nice about faxing me my work."

Despite the move to L.A. and his newfound success, Weinger tries not to let the trappings of showbiz obscure his priorities. "In Los Angeles, things can get a little blurred. Things aren't really what they seem," he says. "The major catastrophe out here is that kids come out, and they get successful for a few weeks, and they think, 'Hey, it's going to be like this for the rest of my life.' And they slack off in school and forget about real-life priorities.

"A lot of these kids just end up kind of losing it and show up on Geraldo talking about their alcohol-abuse problems." Weinger, like most modern teens, grew up on cartoons. "Every kid grows up loving cartoons, but believe it or not, the first thing I ever did in talent shows when I was a kid was the old Yosemite Sam routine," Weinger says from Los Angeles. "I used to put cap guns in my belt and dress up like a cowboy and do the whole number."

So it seemed natural that he would audition for the part of Aladdin, the Arabian street urchin who frees a genie from an enchanted lamp, thus earning three wishes.

"I've always been a fan of animation, especially Disney animation," Weinger says. "The characters seem very real and lifelike, so it's easy for you to empathize with them. I think Aladdin is the Disney character that is most like me. This is the first Disney movie where the male lead has some kind of backbone or spunk."

And in fact, the animated Aladdin bears a striking resemblance to Weinger -- the dark, shaggy hair, the large expressive eyes. Even the mannerisms, he says.

"It's inevitable that the character ends up looking like the voice," Weinger says. "Not just the way he looks physically, but the way he moves and his hand gestures. The scene where (Aladdin) says, 'Well, there's this girl, and she's bee-yoo-ti-ful!' and he puts his hand up on his neck -- well, that was all me."

(Actually, Scott says, Tom Cruise was the inspiration for Aladdin, and posters of the wholesome superstar hunk decorated the recording booths where Weinger and the cast spent a year and a half laying audio tracks.)

To breathe life into the animated Aladdin and his Arabian kingdom, the writing/directing team of John Musker and Ron Clements (The Little Mermaid ) began with a script and a series of story-board sketches. The cast then met in soundproof rooms for meticulous four- to six-hour recording sessions aimed at capturing every line, every nuance. Some dialogue scenes were taped with several cast members, but many were recorded in isolation. Animators then drew the characters' actions by listening over and over to the voice tracks.

For actors used to working with living, breathing peers, the animation process can be an alien, sometimes lonely one. Musker and Clements insisted that each line be read repeatedly, Weinger says, sometimes up to 20 times, with different inflections, so they could choose the best cuts later.

"You're just sitting in front of the mike by yourself in this very large, very quiet, soundproof room while everyone else is in the booth behind you," Weinger says. "Since it's not for film, you're trying to express everything without the benefit of facial expressions and hand gestures. I'd really get into it and catch myself throwing my hands around and making real grand facial expressions."

And, in fact, life was rarely dull on the Aladdin set. Especially when comedian Robin Williams, who supplies the voice of Aladdin's outrageous, shape-shifting genie, came in and did his shtick.

"I did fall on the floor sometimes," Weinger says, "you know, from laughing so hard. At first Robin was very quiet, but then once the tape starts rolling, he flips a switch and goes into high gear. There were certain scenes where he'd just start improvising and go off. . . . And, of course, a lot of times he uses some pretty colorful humor that they couldn't use in a Disney feature.

"All the characters were like that," Weinger adds. "When I had recording sessions with Jonathan Freeman, who does the voice of Jafar (the sultan's evil vizier), he would cackle and look up and laugh and do all these maniacal things." Was it intimidating working with such an unstoppable, creative force as Williams -- who imitates everyone from Arnold Schwarzenegger to William F. Buckley in the film? Nah.

"I've always been a big fan of his, so it was a great thrill," Weinger says. Besides, he adds, "I think it's very possible that Robin could be nominated for best supporting actor and the movie could be nominated for best picture, best music."

As for Weinger, he's already received his reward -- directly from Martin Scorsese, one of his favorite directors. "I got to meet him in New York at one of the Aladdin screenings, and he came over and said, 'You did a very good job,' " Weinger says. "I almost died. I mean, Scorsese -- he's about as good as you get."

So what's next for Scott Weinger? During the holidays, you might see him rollerblading along Ocean Drive in South Beach or hanging out at the News Cafe. Back in L.A., he hopes to do a live-action film next. And he'd love to play his favorite character -- the one that started it all.

"Now that I've played Aladdin," Weinger says, "I guess I'll have to do Yosemite Sam next."

ALADDIN SPEAKS

Scott Weinger, the voice of Aladdin in Disney's newest animated film, will be at the AMC Sheridan Plaza 12, 4999 Sheridan St., Hollywood, from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m. Friday for a special presentation by the city of Hollywood and Broward County commissioners. After the presentation, Weinger will sign autographs and meet with the public. Admission is free. Call 987-4806.

The actor also will sign autographs from 4 to 5 p.m. Friday at the Burger King restaurant at 5051 Sheridan St., Hollywood. Call 989-9786.

Written by Jackie Potts
for The Miami Herald, November 25, 1992