Everyone who has seen Western thrillers knows that the desert breeds dramatic life. But it took the imagination of Walt Disney to discover that snapes, horned toads, and centipedes are the principal actors.

The natural Southwest drama is too slow to interest moviegoers, for life on the desert proceeds lazily. To maintain interest Disney spot lights rare desert events--a Gila monster stalking a desert rat, a summer torrent building up into a wall of water, the blossoming of cactus flowers. The splicing and re-splicing gives the film such a rapid gait that within a few minutes a wild pig chases a bobcat up a hundred foot saguaro, a poisonous wasp vanquishes an equally deadly tarantula, and red hawk devours a rattlesnake. The most callous little boy will lie awake until three a.m. after viewing these battles.

The musical scoring, generally too loud and obvious, intensifies the horror of these struggles for food. Grim marches accompany the centipede as he hunts for his luncheon, and a horn tootles mysteriously while a red and black striped burrowing snake wriggles his body in the sand. But Disney's humor comes out in the music as well. Square dance music and hilarious narration spice a scorpion courtship.

Omitting the drearier aspects of the desert, the scorching days when even liazrds seek protection beneath the earth's parched skin, the photographers render the desert too colorful. The photographers had nerve-javelinas, even at the distance allowed by telephoto lenses, are desert dynamite. They also had patience, for tortoises carry on a languid courtship, even before a camera. Unfortunately the selection of scenes leaves a false impression, making the desert resemble "Arizona Highways Magazine" more than Arizona.

Despite its overplay of the sensational, the color and excitement common to all Disney travelogues make The Living Desert a highly enjoyable view of the Southwest.