Call what photographer Harry McNally does Disney Verite. He takes the grim streets of New York City and paints in some Disney magic.
In some cases, as with photos of stood up Princesses waiting for Princes that will never come, they achieve a sadness that is the more painful because they become the universal mirror for all girlhood/womanhood broken dreams. Those that transcend their black and white reality are the ones where characters determinedly do their jobs: Mickey moping, Donald Duck being his quarrelsome self, Cogsworth the clock being a martinet with a randy couple, Robin Hood frowning over a sleeping human co-worker and even Snow White whistling while she works standing in line at the pharmacy to pick up her latest Prozac refill.
So which is the better delusion? Those who live in street reality who never see the magic of everyday imagination? Or the colorful dreamers who maybe can't talk the talk because they never really been knocked down? McNally never comes down hard on one side or the other. He is content to keep the perfect moment bittersweet. It is more than enough for him to keep it what he calls it--"Moments Like These" .