You’ve probably seen the blue skin, the six fingers, and the way he shuffles a deck of cards with a fluid grace that feels borderline impossible for 1970s hand-drawn animation. We’re talking about Zigzag the Thief and the Cobbler—specifically the Grand Vizier Zigzag, the rhyming, scheming, bird-like antagonist who is essentially the soul of Richard Williams’ unfinished masterpiece.
Most people know Jafar from Aladdin. They see the tall hat and the staff and think, "Oh, Zigzag is just an older version of that." Honestly? It’s kind of the other way around. Zigzag was in development for decades before Disney even touched the desert aesthetic. He is a technical marvel that nearly bankrupted a studio and drove some of the world's best animators to the brink of insanity.
Why Zigzag from The Thief and the Cobbler is an Animation Freak of Nature
The first thing you notice about Zigzag isn't his voice—though we’ll get to the legendary Vincent Price in a second—it’s his hands. Richard Williams, the man who gave us Who Framed Roger Rabbit, decided that his villain shouldn't just have five fingers. He gave him six. On each hand. And then he gave each finger an extra joint.
Think about that for a second.
In traditional animation, every extra detail is a nightmare. It means thousands of extra lines to draw, track, and color for every single second of screen time. Animators usually give characters four fingers to save time. Williams went the opposite direction. He wanted Zigzag to look like something not quite human, a creature of "two-and-a-half-D" that existed somewhere between a Persian miniature painting and a fever dream.
The Card Shuffle Heard 'Round the World
There is a specific scene where Zigzag shuffles a deck of cards. It’s barely twenty seconds long. Most movies would have cheated this. They would have used a "cycle" or some clever editing. Not here. Every single one of those 52 cards was animated individually. No CGI. No shortcuts. Just months of a single animator’s life spent making sure the physics of a card trick looked perfect.
When you watch Zigzag the Thief and the Cobbler clips today, that scene still holds up better than most modern 3D renders. It has a weight and a "snap" to it that feels physical.
The Voice of a Legend: Vincent Price as Zigzag
You can't talk about this character without mentioning Vincent Price. He recorded his lines in the early 70s, long before the film was "finished" (if you can even call the Miramax cut finished). Zigzag speaks entirely in rhyme. It’s not just a gimmick; it’s part of his megalomania. He thinks he’s so much better than everyone else that he refuses to speak like a commoner.
Price’s performance is oily, theatrical, and genuinely funny. He brings a sort of "high camp" energy that balances the silent comedy of Tack the Cobbler and the Thief. Because the two main characters don't talk, Zigzag has to carry the entire verbal weight of the movie. He’s the one explaining the plot, the one threatening the king, and the one providing the rhythmic heartbeat of the film.
It’s actually one of Price’s final great roles, and you can tell he’s having the time of his life. He rolls his Rs and stretches his vowels until they’re as thin as Zigzag’s own spindly legs.
The Tragedy of the "Finished" Film
If you’ve seen the version called Arabian Knight or the Miramax release, you haven’t really seen Zigzag. Or rather, you’ve seen a butchered version of him. When the production was seized from Richard Williams in 1992, the new producers (led by Fred Calvert) thought the movie was too weird. They added songs. They added internal monologues for the silent characters.
They basically tried to turn a work of avant-garde art into a Disney knockoff.
What the Recobbled Cut Fixed
For years, the only way to see the "real" Zigzag the Thief and the Cobbler was through the "Recobbled Cut." This is a fan-led restoration by Garrett Gilchrist that uses workprints, storyboards, and original audio to show what Williams actually intended. In this version, Zigzag isn't just a cartoon bad guy. He’s a sorcerer who might be a fraud, a man who feeds his vulture Phido just enough to keep him hungry but loyal, and a political schemer who loses everything because he can't stop showing off.
- The Phido Dynamic: In the original vision, Zigzag is much meaner to his bird. It makes his eventual demise—being eaten by said bird and a pit of alligators—actually feel like justice.
- The Visual Puns: Zigzag’s movement is based on the idea of a bird of prey. He hunches, he swoops, and his feet cross over each other when he walks. It’s subtle, but it makes him feel dangerous.
Why Zigzag Matters in 2026
Even now, Zigzag stands as a reminder of what animation looks like when nobody is worried about the "bottom line." Richard Williams spent 30 years trying to get this right. He hired the old masters from the Golden Age of Disney—guys like Art Babbitt and Ken Harris—to teach a new generation how to move a character like Zigzag.
It was a bridge between the 1940s style and the modern era. Without Zigzag, we probably don't get the fluid, expressive villains of the 90s. He was the blueprint.
Seeing it for Yourself
If you want to appreciate the craft, don't just watch the movie on a random streaming site. Look for the "A Moment in Time" edit or the latest Recobbled Cut (Mark 4 or higher). Pay attention to the way Zigzag’s rings move on his fingers. There are twelve rings, and they all stay "on model" through every complex hand gesture. It’s insane. It shouldn't exist.
To truly understand the legacy of Zigzag the Thief and the Cobbler, stop looking at him as a character and start looking at him as a drawing that came to life. Every line of his blue skin was a choice made by a human hand, not a computer algorithm. In an age of AI-generated content, there’s something deeply satisfying about watching a villain that was quite literally "too much work" for Hollywood to handle.
Actionable Insight: Seek out the "Persistence of Vision" documentary if you want to see the behind-the-scenes footage of Williams and Price working together. It’s the best way to see the raw passion that went into every single rhyme and every sixth finger.