Saturday, January 25, 2020

Disney Princess 301: The Magical Millennial Tour

If you're just joining me, like the four random hits my blog has gotten from Singapore, one of my unofficial goals is to thumb through the entire Disney animated canon and giving snide reflections. As the princess lineup is the backbone of the studio's library I tend to devote more words to those films, and I've found it convenient to group them into threes. If you're not sick of my writing by the end of page, feel free to check out Disney Princess 101 where I cover Snowy, Cindy, and Thorny, and then head on over to Disney Princess 201 for Fishy, Booky, and...um...Jasminey. And on with the show!

For a corporate juggernaut like Disney it's impossible to reduce its turning points to a simple cause and effect.

Now just from that statement alone, I feel confident that I understand the company better than former CEO Michael Eisner ever did. He was a savvy businessman (which is not necessarily a compliment) but he was no artist.

The Animated Renaissance was to Disney what Iron-Man was to Robert Downey Jr.; a phoenix-from-the-ashes resurrection that carried box-office profits for an entire decade. The big three (Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine) were the foundation on which everyone from Simba to Tarzan reaped the benefits in terms of technical achievement and quality; and arguably Pixar. History remembers this as the Jeffrey Katzenberg era prior to the mediocrity with which he infused DreamWorks's library. But inside sources point to the late Frank Wells as the unsung genius behind Disney's survival and triumph. Whatever the spark was, Disney's soul exploded into the theater with a renewed passion...and then slithered onto the home video market with its half-assed sequel excuses.

By the time board members Roy Disney Jr. and Stanley Gold had had it up to Mount Olympus with Eisner oversaturating their supply of pixie dust, the Disney name was no longer synonymous with quality. Pixar was the new Disney, while Disney was slipping to trend chaser status (AKA New DreamWorks. Am I snide? I think I'm snide.). All of which brings us into the Bob Iger era and a return to formula; Princess Fairy Tales.


The Priceless and the Frock

Let's get this out of the way up front. Disney dodges the whole race issue, and I honestly can't blame them. The fallout from Song of the We Have No Idea What You're Talking About has no end in sight, why the hell would they want to launch that bandwagon against themselves (the Halle Bailey backlash is on you assholes, not the mouse). Particularly in a family film, racial inequality either has to be hit head on, like Zootopia, or relegated to subtext like it is here. Since this movie is ultimately about something other than race, I believe this was the correct choice.

My six word review: "Awesome! And a little less so".

As a love letter to the entire history of Disney animation, the film is amazing; talking animals, transformations, an ultra charismatic villain, a New Orleans setting (Walt Disney's personal obsession), swamp scenes (a nod to the Don Bluth period), a deconstruction of star-wishing, a Disney death that actually sticks, and a deliberate karate chop to the ugly step sister trope. It properly utilized all of the elements that Enchanted only checked off as it went.

Story-wise, Tiana's arc was wonderful, and deliberately adult. She was not the spoiled princess looking for love, she was a workaholic looking for autonomy. Her best friend Lottie got the traditional Disney motivator, and proved she was a better person not getting what she wanted. But the main problem with the film is that Tiana's story has to carry so much extra weight she's never able to really dance on clouds.

Sandbag #1: Louis, the alligator trumpeter. Everything about his character reads "Well, we designed him, and damn it we're gonna throw him in there!" He honestly doesn't help the plot and he's one of the reasons the second act in the swamp drags. Sandbag #2: Mama Odie, the voodoo priestess. She comes out of nowhere just to pad out the soundtrack. Either that or to balance out the way practitioners of voodoo are being portrayed in Disney films? Sandbag #3: and this one might have worked itself out by cutting the first two loose, Prince Naveen. If there was ever a princess who didn't need a man, it was Tiana; but the story requires it, so fair play. But directors Ron Clements and John Musker seem to forget what his role in the movie is. Naveen is all personality and narrow goals,  which is great if you're the villain or one of the scene-stealing side characters. But he's just too in love with himself to be a credible love interest for Tiana.

As for the villain, Dr. Facilier is impeccably animated and voiced (Keith David rules!), but he's strangely underused. His motivations feel a little first draft-y; he wants to rule New Orleans? Why exactly? And wouldn't he have had a stronger presence if he had a prior connection to Tiana? Imagine if instead of him tempting her at the end of the film it had been a first act encounter, where she turned him down and it ruffled his feathers. Like I say, Dr. Facilier's a great villain, but it's a missed opportunity to stand him next to the all time greatest.

Overall, I'm being needlessly hard on an otherwise wonderful film because I felt it held itself back with a few rookie mistakes. I care, and I know what Disney is capable of. If you really want to see them bring their A-game, look at the character of Ray, the lovesick firefly. He is not appealing, and the previews make him out to be a lowbrow comedic sidekick who's there just to keep the kiddies interested. But Jim Cummings does the unthinkable with his performance, he breaks your heart open. This ugly insect manages to spark a little more hope in you than you had before you popped in the DVD. And he does it with a legitimate Cajun accent (ball's in your court Streep). Disney magic? I'd like to say there's no such thing, but I really can't back it up.

Dangled

Rapunzel was inevitable but alas Disney felt they had to trick boys into going to see what's perceived as a girl movie, hence the prominent gap in the princess lineup doesn't get her own film named after her. Instead they placed the spotlight on hair. Yes, that's much more rugged, isn't it?

Age is kind of fluid in fairy tales, which extends to Disney adaptations. You may not have realized that Tiana was 19. Rapunzel is on the eve of her 18th birthday, but the two of them may as well be from different generations. While Tiana was a working woman focused on adult goals, Rapunzel is very much a girl. That's not a criticism, just a distinction. Her kidnapper, Mother Gothel, has actively prevented her from growing up, giving Rapunzel an anime-like imbalance of overdue emotional puberty. It makes her an interesting character study, but unfortunately that takes a backseat to...stuff happening.

I have mixed feelings about this film. On the one hand, the aforementioned stuff is quite entertaining on its own. Flynn Rider is a funny character. His lines are well written, and it's refreshing to see a male Disney lead also be the goofy sidekick character. And determinator Maximus is a cool horse, possibly the coolest horse Disney has given us (and they've given us a lot of horses). The problem is, it feels like they've come from a different story where they were the central focus. And I know it was the studio's intention to have the film be about Flynn as much as Rapunzel (again, because boys), but in this regard I think the film fails.

You can have a movie about two characters; think Toy Story. While Buzz Lightyear became more of a supporting character as the series progressed, the first film was about him as much as it was about Woody. But the difference is, Toy Story was a single story that Buzz and Woody were on polar opposites of. Flynn and Rapunzel are having two different stories competing for screen time, and it's a disservice to the character whose fairy tale it's supposed to be about.

It's been said many times that a story is only as good as its villain, which is obviously an oversimplification. But in the case of Tangled, it plays out both ways. Most of the script that focuses on Rapunzel and Flynn is spright; certainly enough to highlight just how drab the rest of the Kingdom Hearts III dialogue is. The bits with Mother Gothel feel more like dead weight, kind of a reversed Sleeping Beauty. Gothel's a well designed, and voiced, character, but once outside of her oppressive tower she's not that much of a threat. Disney's done so much better in the past, see Frollo's maniacal outbursts or Lady Tremaine's venomous seething. Better yet go all the way back to Queen Grimhilde from Snow White who had a similar motive, to restore status quo. It's not an inherently dramatic incentive but when it's given to someone as ruthless as the queen it becomes the stuff of nightmares. Gothel's more of a leash than a whip.

As for the music, I don't have a polite way of saying this: it wasn't Alan Menken's A-game. This is the guy who gave us the soundtracks to Little Shop of Horrors and almost the entire Disney Renaissance. And it's not like he's past his peak, check out both seasons of Galavant if you don't believe me. But the songs here are sub par. Not bad, but not Disney. Maybe good enough for Dreamworks.

So in the end I think it's overall a fun movie just not a disappointingly unrefined one. While The Princess and the Frog had unneeded padding in places, it's story flowed organically. Tangled feels assembled; no real padding, but trying too hard to cover bases that it doesn't need to. Rapunzel waited decades for the Disney treatment, and what she got was good...enough. But she deserved better.

Frosting

It was a moment. Three words: Here. I. Stand. Elsa slammed her foot to the ground. And the ice. Not just a collection of water molecules, and not just a sequence of computerized pixels, but a metaphor. Fear. That cannot be evaded. That cannot be defeated. The ice. Bent to her will. It was a moment that rippled through the film, through the Disney studios, through the audience, and through history.

Entertainment doesn't make things happen. It reflects on things that are already happening. Things we can barely understand because they're happening on an emotional level. Entertainment processes those emotions and gives us something tangible to hold onto while we try to figure it all out.

Frozen was released in 2013. It was seven years after 'Me Too' was first used as a phrase for surviving sexual harassment, and four years before it would take root in the mainstream. Two years prior Demi Lovato publicly revealed her diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Three years later Trump's America would stick its fingers in its ears to the concept of empathy. All these events happened or would happen whether or not this film existed, but that ripple has stuck in our heads. We continue to feel it as we face the monsters both inside and out. It was a moment that we couldn't have realized then; all of us are Elsa.

As much of an icon as Elsa instantly became, her debut film has some issues; mainly the result of a ten year development process that still managed to feel rushed. Everything about Act One is great! The music comes out of the gate swinging, you have the emotional baggage, and the animation grips you in a way you don't consciously realize. But then "Let it Go" happens, and the problems kick in.

It's not a problem with the song; I know you got sick of hearing it after the first nine thousand times but it was played that much because it's that amazing. The problem is the effect it has on the story that Disney wasn't prepared for. The whole film is designed to be Anna's story, her complicated relationship with her sister as the primary arc. Originally Elsa was the movie's antagonist. She went through several iterations; villain, sympathetic villain, anti-heroine, probably one draft where you find out she'd been dead the whole time. But once the songwriters got inside her head Elsa could no longer be the object of the arc, she'd become the protagonist.

And therein lies the issue with everything after that one song, the movie is still determined to make it Anna's story. Oaken, ha ha, get back to Elsa. Kristoff and Sven, that's nice, get back to Elsa. Olaf's song, come on, just get back to Elsa. The trolls again? For the love of God, get back to Elsa! It's not that the film falls apart, it's just that we all can tell the movie we got is getting in the way of the much better movie we could have had.

In the end the movie is good enough. When it shines it really shines, making itself destined to become a classic. When it trips it only lands in the snow, nothing broken, just a quick brush off. You know you were affected by the movie as much as I was, even if you want to pretend you liked The Great Mouse Detective more. Nothing is perfect, and if it were I don't imagine it would be a lovable as a really good flawed journey.

More Frosting

I'd normally end the blog here, but as we're in between the theatrical and home releases of Frozen II, this is probably the best time to give the follow up a little attention.

To reiterate a couple of points I made in my most recent entry, this time around we really get to know Elsa as an individual (which was a wise move). We learn more about Arendelle's history, which isn't something I thought I wanted to know but it turns out to be intriguing. Everyone is a little older and a little more responsible, and the choices before them aren't so easy to discern the consequences thereof.

Anna manages to take a supportive role without getting pushed to the background, and with that shift comes some ideas that don't entirely get resolved. For example, she's angry with her sister for going off alone. Nothing comes of it, but the moment is still valuable. You get mad at people you care about. It's natural. And it's a concept that Disney films don't regularly incorporate. There's no life's lesson spelled out, just an implied "It's okay to feel."

As a sequel, Frozen II does what a sequel should do; raise the stakes, develop the sidekicks, and end in a place other than the beginning. Frozen II does all three (comparatively, The Jungle Book II does zero). The first film has a raw energy that the sequel can't replicate but the overall quality is more mature. It remains to be seen whether or not it carries a comparable impact to the original, but I give the makers credit for building a more sophisticated plot (sans any real villain no less. Brava!)

I'm confident that there will be a third film. If not, there will be something; a book, a streaming series, another Olaf-does-something-marketable short, in any case Disney isn't done with the ice rink and neither are we. I can only hope Elsa still winds up without a love interest, but the main takeaway is that the Disney Princess archetype has evolved from the passive damsel who only existed to bring out the characters around her.

Disney, like it or not, is the studio that has created the vocabulary we all use, and the Disney Princess holds a special place in that alphabet. More women are taking the reins in our stories and bringing with them an overdue layer of insight into how we, as the audience, process our own experience through them, and the men who are staying relevant amidst this transformation are the ones who've embraced this layer. I long for the day when we no longer have to consciously empower our princesses, letting it just naturally happen, but until then we can see that the process is advancing.

I'm proud to have the personal connection to Disney's legacy that I do, and equally proud to be neither a Disney-can-do-no-wrong nor Disney-can-do-no-right kind of guy. I criticize the company where I feel it's deserved, and I praise it where I feel it's earned. In the case of their Princess line, I feel they're doing some very good work. I look forward to seeing what the 401 course teaches us.