Disney Music Comes to Life

Live music has a way of lifting one's mind and transporting it into a realm of emotion through sound. 

Last month's Disney in Concert: Around the World by the Phoenix Symphony was a welcome reminder of the richness of music. The eleven pieces in the selection may have been familiar sounds, yet there is a completely new layer in hearing even a familiar piece live. Add to this also the ability to watch the musicians and notice which specific instruments form those familiar sounds and it becomes quite special.

Though Disney music is part of the Pops series from the Symphony and so is a more casual, lighthearted symphony experience, this music is quite good in its own right. Disney dominated the world of animation for so long not by default but because of superior quality, including that of the music, in their films. That is, there were also two live action films represented, Mary Poppins and Pirates of the Caribbean. I remember being so excited to hear the latter's music from my high school band--suffice it to say that Phoenix Symphony presented that score more wonderfully.

Sure, Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid may be the two biggest favorites from my era, but The Hunchback of Notre Dame is stellar music-wise. Getting to hear that music live was a highlight. Hearing the Fantasmic brought me straight into the parks, as did the "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" melody that started off the first overture. I did love starting off the day at a Disneyland rope drop to that tune, maybe heading straight towards Splash Mountain. Ah, nostalgia.

While the music here may conjure up specific images like running off to Splash Mountain or seeing the Notre Dame cathedral, I also had a chance to sit and notice all the little details. Like how delicate the notes are at the beginning of The Little Mermaid. Or how triumphant that Fantasmic theme is and how much energy the musicians bring to it. Though we love the music because of its associations, the music is, like I said, quite good in its own right and well worth experiencing live. 

The Problem with Pinocchio

Someone asked me recently about my opinion on the Disney live-action remakes, saying that it seems like major Disney fans usually don't like them. But when I go and think about it, my opinions do vary for each film. Some are good, some are boring, some are terrible, some are a combination. And the ones that are bad aren't all bad for the same reasons. Given that, I really didn't know what to expect from the latest rendition of Pinocchio. I suppose I wasn't in a hurry to watch it, although a month is less time than I waited for some of the others (and some I still haven't watched). 

Some of these remakes set about to be very different from the original, animated versions; some basically mimic the original. Pinocchio seemed to be going with the latter approach. So I could on about how it's strange to be watching the "live-action" version with so much CGI in it--hardly anything is actually live, anyway. (What about completely computer animation remakes? Do you think they might ever do that?) Or I could talk about how strange the audio was for the CG characters (I thought there was something wrong with my headphones).

But my issue is with the cap at the end of the film. (I'd warn about spoilers but I don't think there's anyone to warn. Anyone who cares that much would have already watched the movie.) When Geppetto and Pinocchio are joyfully reunited after escaping from Monstro, Geppetto declares his love for Pinocchio just the way he is. Our narrator explains that some versions of the story say that Pinocchio did then become a real boy--but that it doesn't really matter either way because he was already real. It's possible to blink and not realize just how problematic this seemingly sweet message is. 

Pinocchio's story is a moral tale. (Click here to read a post in which I go into more detail on this.) He is created by Geppetto and must learn the moral traits of honesty, bravery, and unselfishness before he can become "real." Along the way, he falls into temptation and sin. He grieves his father/creator's heart. But Geppetto never gives up on Pinocchio, and in the end Pinocchio is willing to do all he can to seek his father in return. He learns his lesson from his actions and becomes a real boy. 

To say that Pinocchio was just fine the way he was is to say that transformation and learning were not necessary. Transformation is necessary. We as people are inherently flawed. We do make bad choices. We do need transformation. So to say that we can be left in our original state and that that's okay is deeply problematic. It is necessary to remember that just because we need transformation does not mean that we cannot or are not loved the whole time through. Remember, Geppetto, though his heart was grieved by Pinocchio's choices, never stopped loving his boy and never stopped pursuing him. He never stopped calling to Pinocchio even when he was out living it up on Pleasure Island. So when I say that it was necessary for Pinocchio to transform, I am not saying that he was unloved before his transformation. I am not saying you can only love someone who is transformed. I'm just saying that, morally, we should all be striving for a constant state of transformation. We should all be looking to say no to temptations and strive to become better and become new day by day. Pinocchio's transformation from wood to flesh is a metaphor. It isn't discrimination against people made of actual wood (I haven't met any--have you?).

Notice, too, the changes in Pleasure Island. They made it more into a fun fest, a very specific, child-focused exploration of rule-breaking. The animated film made it clear that these were temptations to do all the "bad" things that adults like to do. Sure, there were some carnival games on the outside. But the main things the boys were excited about were smoking, drinking, gambling, and generally being rough. If, for whatever reason, Disney felt like they wanted to have something more visually cleaned up and "family friendly" (although they make plenty of non-family-friendly content, so I don't really buy that excuse), then they could have chosen other vices that would still hold that same message of "badness" rather than simply reckless rebellion. It needs to be clear that Pleasure Island represents a departure from moral standards. 

Ah, but therein lies the issue. Our society these days takes issue with moral standards. And Disney, being a public company, is experimenting with going along with society instead of sticking to its core of moral tales. Pinocchio, he just needed to learn that he was fine as he was all along, he just had to believe in himself. No, no, no. Pinocchio had to learn, like we all have to learn, that temptation and its consequences are very real; therefore, we must listen instead to the still, small voice and stay on the good path and turn back to our Creator who is lovingly pursuing us and then we can trade in our wooden limbs for flesh. 

Disney, Rock, and Strange Moods

When I occasionally go on YouTube crawls, clicking from video to video, it isn't to watch dogs and cats befriending turtles and canaries. Usually it's when I get sucked into music. I'll start maybe listening to that one concert where Lacey Sturm performed with Skillet. Click here and click there and before I know it, I'm listening to rock covers of Disney songs. 

That is, people can have a very loose idea of what makes something a "rock" cover. Or "metal." I have found some of these quite disappointing. But Peyton Parrish, though. Apparently like the rest of the Internet given the high number of views his videos have, I think he does an excellent job with the Disney covers. I stumbled first across "I'll Make a Man Out of You" from Mulan. Then later he came out with "Go the Distance" from Hercules. The former was a wonderful display of the concept of masculine strength. And the latter took that a step further into transcendent space. 

When Hercules sings that song, he's just a young man setting out on an adventure looking for excitement and belonging. He's imagining the glory of it all. Yet this cover takes that and gives it a subtle nudge. Instead of "going the distance" for glory, here the speaker wants to go the distance to hold on, stay the course, run the race, do what's right. The line "to look beyond the glory is the hardest part" stands out more as an explanation of his motives. This song now is not about seeking fame. It's about enduring with strength for an ultimate reward. Instead of the "hero's waiting arms" being Zeus, the father Hercules has been separated from and whom he hopes to please, the line suddenly sounds quite bolder than a Disney lyric. It suddenly sounds like we're talking about God's love--and I see your Lion of Judah tattoo, Peyton, so I doubt I'm making this angle up simply as the viewer. Ah, gotta love when we find deep meaning in Disney songs (I've gone on such tangents about Snow White and Sleeping Beauty and the symbolism I find there). 

And then once I ended up on Blackbriar and Ulli Perhonen's "Snow White and Rose Red." I couldn't quite tell if this was my missed Goth calling music, or if this was just too far off the deep end for me. After attempting to delve in more, I'm going to go with the latter. Sometimes clicking and clicking in strange moods can lead to interesting discoveries; sometimes, though, it leads to discoveries that you only find intriguing when in such aforementioned strange moods. Ah, the endless possibilities of music and song. 

Mulan: A Graceful Discovery of Identity

 Of the Disney live action remakes, the idea of Mulan made the most sense to me. The animated film lends itself well to live action because it is in fact much like watching an action movie, something more associated with live action than with animation. And I think it's generally one of the underrated (or under remembered?) of the Disney animated films, so I've been excited just to see more of the story.

This movie would definitely have looked better on the big screen than on my laptop (not that my TV is much bigger, but anyway it isn't new enough to be able to play Disney+, which is why I'm limited to my laptop for their content). Visually, it's a nice-looking action movie. Because that is what this movie is: it's an epic, a legend, the story of a heroine representing her family and her country. 

Niki Caro's Mulan returns the story to a specific time and place in Imperial China. Therefore it has much more respect for the traditions of that time and place (I will state outright that I have little knowledge of such traditions; there are others more qualified than me to speak at length on that, so that isn't my goal). For instance the marriage plot. We see Mulan as a girl and then a young woman with talents and interests that don't fit in with the docile and proper image of a female in her community. But instead of the film showing her as a klutz like in the animated version, we see her display extreme agility in the tea serving scene--just not in a way that fits within the role she was supposed to play while serving tea. And while we see Mulan's hesitation about the idea of marriage, the film does not condemn a whole society's approach to marriage. At the end, Mulan's sister shyly and excitedly tells her that she has been matched and she is pleased with the match. This is important: it means that the story is not meaning to upend the entire culture. After all, the story comes from this culture.

So Mulan's personal journey is a little different in this movie than in the animated one. We don't see her learning new skills (battle) that better suit her personality (as compared to domesticity). We see her learning to accept a part of herself. And because it is a part of herself, her community accepts it, as well. Mulan is not a rebel. She doesn't go to war because she's sick of serving tea and wants to wield a sword. She goes to war to honor her family. She knows that her father cannot and that she can. 

Which brings us to another important point. Humility. The animated film makes a bigger deal of Mulan's willingness to stand out, whereas the live action shows that Mulan is respectful to her culture. Respect for elders and leadership is big, as is a certain humility and calmness of bearing oneself. She's not a big-mouthed, 21st century American. And given that I'm a little sick of the big-mouthed rebel characters, this was refreshing. Mulan takes action and is respectful at the same time. That is why she is remembered as a heroine of legend.

At certain beats in the story, I did wish each new realization had the weight that it did in the animated version. For instance, the "To Be a Man" sequence is a huge turning point as Mulan realizes that with strength and determination, she can achieve as much as anyone around her can. Live action Mulan's realization of how to express her own strength is quieter--which is in character but makes the emotional journey appear more subtle on screen. 

I didn't care for what I saw of the witch, Xian Lang, in the trailers. But when you watch the movie, her role makes sense. She is the foil or flip side for Mulan. She allows Mulan to have dialogue with someone about what she is going through. And she provides that necessary contrast, to show what Mulan is doing. Again, Mulan is not bitter and rejected (well, at least not as rejected as Xian Lang, though she's already brought some dishonor to her family); she is seeking to honor her community. Mulan and Xian Lang both realize that it is possible to fully express this personality as a female and still have the respect of the community. It's quite . . . graceful. 

They also did a good portrayal of Mulan's relationship with her fellow soldiers. Their camaraderie is natural and genuine. And after hearing that Shang would be taken out (I understand why they wouldn't want Mulan's love interest to also be her commanding officer, even though I don't myself mind it in the animated version), I was glad to see a bit of a love story in there. Just nice and subtle to satisfy those of us who are happy to see it but small enough not to bother those who don't want it. 

Because the point of the story is not that Mulan gets a relationship. Outwardly, she finds her place within her community. Inwardly, she finds her place with herself. And she is able to reconcile the two. She finds that she is loyal and brave but wants to also be true. So her secret is not discovered by circumstances out of her control (the treating of her injuries). She freely tells it herself. Again, her motivation is not rebellion, it is aligning herself with the virtue's of her people. She wants to be true to herself and to them. 

I'm sure I could continue rambling, but I suppose these are my main thoughts. Because this is a war movie, it probably won't be one that I'll be rewatching often. But I did think that overall they did a nice job with it. It reminds me a lot of Cinderella in the sense that it freshened up the familiar story and quietly added a graceful nature to its heroine that would still resonate with modern audiences. 

Disney Family Singalong

Do you remember when YouTube was new? I was in high school and I would watch these videos that young people were making using mediocre cameras to imitate cool cinematography or even try out things like green screens. None of the video quality holds up to today's standards in which everyone is expected to have a good camera and professional lighting, but the creativity was great. It was exciting and so much fun.

That's kind of what the Disney Family Singalong on ABC tonight reminded me of. On the one hand, it's absolutely nothing like the quality that Disney/ABC would put out on TV. A bunch of people filming themselves in their kitchens or bedrooms with their phones. Everything all spliced together with the song lyrics stuck onto the bottom of the screen. Absolutely nothing, right? Nothing compared with a big production on a stage with a live audience and then added digital effects, right?

Except that it was so much fun.

I thought I would turn it on just to see what it was and then either keep it on in the background or turn off the TV. But I was hooked. Obviously, of course, the opening song was great. Derek Hough and all put together a creative piece that still had costumes and choreography and cinematography even if it was just filmed in their kitchens. That was a YouTube video there, such fun.

While the other songs didn't keep up that same quality level because of course you can't really do that on all of them, they were still creative and just positive and encouraging. Whether it was the multiple screens of one performer like with Darren Criss or Ariana Grande, or the use of the green screens like with Amber Riley, the editing kept the screen moving even if there wasn't much to actually film. Or sticking Luke Evans and Josh Gad on a frame on Alan Menken's piano--stuff like that is cool.

Then as you do get into the group stuff, the possibilities are all there. The High School Musical cast brought in the feels, Jordan Fisher brought in lighthearted fun and all the choreography, and the Donny Osmond bit put all the family emotions out there. And of course I'm sure we all loved the pets that made their appearances. I think Christina Aguilera's dog just sleeping on the bed next to her was my favorite.

The things we can do when everything that we're used to relying on is gone. No, you can't all practice this scene together and perform it live on a stage. But yes, you can all film yourselves dancing with your phone and we'll edit it together so that it looks like you're all dancing together. Isn't that great? This is nothing profound of me to say and this one hour show was nothing profound, either. But it was fun, despite being nothing like what Disney would normally put out--and I just can't get over how wonderful that is.

It's a reminder of what makes things enjoyable. Yes, we love Disney because of their superb quality level, and I'm sure we'll all be happy to have big productions back. But they could do something like this because these are songs that we all know and love. They came up with a creative way to do something, and it worked. That's the way so many things are right now: we're kind of just reinventing our way of approaching it all. That's why many of the ideas that have come up or new ways of doing things are going to stick around even after the world normalizes again.

I Am Aurora

While I am aware that not everyone loves the Disney princesses, I'm a literature person, so I view everything from that perspective. The earlier princesses were mainly symbolic--and so were their princes. That is, their stories weren't really love stories, only on the surface level. Let that settle in and change your perspective on Disney princesses.

Anyway. I do like Disney. And the princesses are a part of Disney. I used to think that Belle was my Disney princess. She had my brown hair and brown eyes and she liked to read books--and that craving for something more was also something that I had when I was around twelve years old. And then Tiana came out when I was in college and I thought, oh, I want to be Tiana, that's who I should strive for. She was so hardworking. And then Elena of Avalor came out and I thought, she has my brown hair and brown eyes, not Belle--it's a different look.

And now I'm going back again. Sleeping Beauty is one of my favorite Disney animated films not because I think that it's necessarily the best (though some elements of it are stellar) but because I love the music and the art and the good versus evil theme. And suddenly I find that I am Aurora dancing in the woods.

Aurora, just living her life. She's out there in the woods. She's just a peasant girl picking berries that she knows her aunts don't need. She's just enjoying being out there, dancing and singing and dreaming and making friends with who is around her, even if they're the animals. You could say that oh, she's just thinking about finding a man, putting her life on hold until she meets him, thinking everything will be fine when she does. But that isn't really what she's doing. She looks very happy out there dancing in the woods by herself. She's living her life.

And yet she also is being patient, though she doesn't realize to what extent. Even in her dream about finding someone, she isn't moping or pouting or even searching for him, wondering when she's going to find him. She's perfectly happy to just literally bump into him while she's busy with her animal friends. So she was patiently waiting for him. And she was also, unknown to her, waiting for the day when she would return to her true home, to the castle, and to her father the king. The time is long in coming but when the time comes, Aurora goes in just one night from being the peasant girl in the woods to the princess in the castle. Change is slow to come for her but when it comes, it comes powerfully.

That's how I identify. I'm dancing in the woods, enjoying my life, just being where I am right now. There are good things ahead and I'll enjoy them when they come. But right now I'm going to just enjoy dancing in the woods.

And in a sense, that basic moment is something that many of the Disney princesses share--and something we all share in our lives, as well. That's the inspiration we want to receive. No, it isn't about the princes or the dresses or the castles. It's about living with grace and contentment right where you are. That's what makes the Disney princesses beautiful--that's what makes them princesses.

Which Disney princess do you identify with?

Beauty and the Beast Revisited

Beauty and the Beast has long been one of my favorites. The movie is among the best of the Disney animated films, and I am always drawn to that theme (it's much the same story, essentially, as pieces like Jane Eyre, which book I have referred to as being my soul). It's funny watching videos from Fresh Baked (that YouTube channel where they go to Disneyland every week to share the Disney winds with everyone) because David isn't a fan of the message that Beauty and the Beast can get across.

The thing is, I get it more now than I did before. That is, I always saw his point and simply could argue that that wasn't the only way to view the story. But maybe now I see it. It's especially true if you look at just that movie--whereas I have been looking at the movie, at Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve's novel (which is more a marriage plot story typical of the time period than a fairy tale, even with the fantastical element), at picture books of the story, and at all the Beauty and the Beast type stories (like Jane Eyre or Twilight or a million others). So now I realize that looking at all of these other things in addition to the movie was making me miss the key difference.

In Disney's movie, the Beast's character changes after he meets Belle. That's great: it's great for us to help our fellow people. He had to learn to love and that's great. But those themes are mixed in and confused with the theme of loving the inner person rather than the outer person. That's where the issue is.

If you read the story of Beauty and the Beast, the Beast keeps proposing to Belle and she keeps saying no until one day she realizes that he's the Prince from her (literal) dreams and so she can say yes because he isn't a monster, just a man, and when she says yes, the spell will break. So Belle (actually, she's usually just literally called Belle; the translations also translate her name) is truly learning to look beyond the Beast's exterior to see that he is a person.

Movie Belle also does that. And of course the film makes a big deal about the inner versus outer person. Gaston, of course, is the handsome one with the unpleasant interior. But Belle loves Beast as she sees him change and become a different person. Initially, he was on the inside that same Beast that he was on the outside. It's with Belle that he becomes a little kinder. So that's why David has an issue with the movie sending the message that you can change another person, that you should look at a person as someone you can change--versus loving (or not loving, romantically speaking, of course) a person as they are.

I kind of tend to agree with him now and the movie is slipping a bit in its perfection (I mean, I also have a bit of an issue with the demeaning view toward small towns). Still, though, you could argue that Belle did see the Beast as who he was the whole time and she wasn't trying to change him or make him into something else. He was raging and tyrannical and abusive . . . and when she saw that he had changed, then she fell in love with him.

After all, the spell can be broken in the movie when the cursed prince falls in love and then earns love in return. He had to first change in order to love and only then could he be someone that another person would fall in love with.

So if you nitpick, you can come to any conclusion you want. The point of the story isn't supposed to be an unhealthy love story. (Side note: this is why in Jane Eyre, you only achieve the happy ending after Jane chooses to leave Rochester and he has a personal epiphany on his own.) It's supposed to be about having a good core, a kind center.

Mulan Trailer Reaction

Mulan would seem to lend itself well to live action. The sequences that are exciting in the animated film are full of pacing and, well, action that would translate well into live action. The visuals and plot are reliant mainly on people and their reactions (as opposed to, say, dancing and furry woodland creatures). And the story and themes are also quite adult. So this remake has a chance to be a gem.

The words that play over the scenes in the trailer reminded me of the "Be a Man" sequence in the original. Shang is trying to train his men, telling them they're a bunch of sissies and girls if they can't keep up. And since Mulan is struggling, at first she thinks he's right: she is literally a girl and she can't do this. But then she says, no, I have to do this, so she is able to do it no matter that she is a woman--as a woman, she is still able to "man up."

Similarly, in the trailer, you have this dialogue about how to be a proper woman and wife playing along with images of Mulan training and fighting in battle. The very traits that would seem to "keep a woman in her place" or hold Mulan back from taking a soldier's role are the very traits that help her to become a good soldier: mainly, discipline. This also pairs nicely with Mulan's words at her family's table. She tells them that she will bring the family honor. We as the audience know that she will bring them honor, though not in the way that they expect: it will be through her service in war, not through marriage. So it looks like this movie will get the theme across nicely.

Word is that the love story is out, right? That does make me a little sad, since I quite like the love story in Mulan. It's like the one in Divergent. That isn't the main part of the story, though, so it can be taken out. I'm curious, though, about Mulan's friendship with her fellow soldiers. None of that was shown in the trailer (since it was, after all, just a teaser), so I'll look forward to seeing how that plays out. That camaraderie is what helps Mulan feel like she has found a place and a role; she isn't an isolated, lone figure.

Anyway, everything looks good so far, and I certainly hope so, because this movie has so much going for it. Handled well, it can be both amazing and well-timed.

Toy Story 4 and the Children Who Are Now Adults

We all know that Toy Story is as much for adults as it is for children--if not more so. Any good children's story should be enjoyable for adults, as well, but there is something extra to that when it comes to Toy Story. That became evident when Toy Story 3 came out. That movie showed Andy going off to college just as the people who had been children when the first movie came out were doing by this point.

And that was the end of it, right? The going and away and leaving behind childhood theme (that is also addressed in Winnie the Pooh when Christopher Robin explains to Pooh that he is going to school) was covered and they put in Bonnie to show childhood still existing and continuing on even when one particular child is no longer a child. So how do you move on from that without also undoing everything that has already been done?

Well, by going back to the same concept of the audience growing up. The children who were going off to college are now out of college. Many of them are getting married and starting families of their own--or otherwise setting off on new adventures, new stages of life. The past is still important, but it's the past and not the present. (And yes, there are probably spoilers in here.)

That explains the beginning of the movie. I'm not usually one to pick on plot points, but I did find the kindergarten orientation odd (is that a thing now? I guess I wouldn't know; it wasn't when I went to school) and it also didn't make sense for Bonnie to be so hesitant and shy and scared about going to school. She's used to hanging around the daycare where her mom works. Isn't she usually portrayed as a happy and social child for her to suddenly be the shy one alone in the corner? The reason, though, that she is portrayed this way is because it speaks to those early traumas. Trauma may be too strong of a word--or maybe not. Those memories that we hold from when we were very young and we know that we wouldn't act the same way now but we remember how we felt then and it hurt and it was hard and we still carry it with us. A story like this is most certainly created for the adults watching who have memories like this from years ago.

And the return of Bo and her story with Woody is the story of the fantasy that the adults who are now settling down want to live out, too. Woody thinks he has lost his purpose, but what he has really lost is the feeling of being cared for. He and Bo care for each other and that's why he can choose to go on new life adventures with her. It isn't that he stopped caring about the rest of the crew; it's just that their time together had ended. And Woody was Andy's favorite toy, not Bonnie's. So that wasn't his place; he had the freedom to go after that new stage in life. And this time he got to choose the stage. As an owned toy, he was like a child belonging to a parent and doing what the parent asks of them. As an unowned toy, he is like an adult being the one deciding to do what he has learned from his "parent."

Now about the antique store. As someone who shops at antique stores (frankly, you find better quality and better prices than at new stores--and I am a Victorian, too, so there's that), I did nitpick here, too. Toys don't sell? That's not true; they're a market in their own right--that was just what they needed to say for the story. And what's with grandma telling Harmony she can have all the toys from the store? In most cases, antique stores have vendors who sell their items in their section of the store. So those aren't the shopkeepers products; they're the vendors'. I don't think the vendors would be very happy to know that she's just giving away their investments.

Anyway. That aside, antique stores of course have a great symbolic quality. Has anyone else read Hittie: Her First Hundred Years? It's about a doll in an antique store writing down her story. So Bo and Gabby reminded me of her. That concept of either sitting on the shelf or living life played out well, as did Gabby's renewal. We're all broken--which is why it's sometimes our very brokenness that links us to someone else and helps us to start finding some healing.

So Toy Story 4 took on all of these adult themes about brokenness, purpose, personal choices, interconnectivity, and the different stages of life. It did it all in a simple and light way that was fun even while it was deep. Something for the children and for the adults. I don't know if this one will have great re-watchability, but maybe that doesn't matter. It created that stirring portrayal of "Who am I?" and "Who will you be beside me?" Woody finding all he ever wanted with Bo is what we all crave when we look into someone else's eyes. The children have grown up.

And Forkie? He exclaims that he is trash and tries to throw himself into the trash constantly until someone explains to him that no, he is not trash, he was created for more, someone put life and love into him and he is not trash. We are not trash.

Is Disney Being Smart?

Those of us who grew up watching the classic Disney animated films ask ourselves why they keep putting out live action remakes. Sometimes they're fun, but wasn't it more fun when, for instance, the first Pirates of the Caribbean came out? (That was based on a ride, but it still counts as original.) We decide that, well, they know we'll go to see the movies, anyway, so that's why they keep making them.

But I just realized that it may be something else: they're keeping the beloved stories relevant.

Since we grew up on the old films, we think they're relevant. And they are. But anyone who spends time around kids or people who have kids knows that the reality is usually different. I remember Jennifer Oakes on YouTube mentioning that her children don't like the classically animated films--they only like the newer animation. And I know someone who's said the same thing. So that cuts out Snow White, Bambi, Peter Pan, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, etc. Maybe when they're older they'll rediscover the old classics, but kids these days are watching the new stuff: Tangled, Frozen, and Coco. And yet because Disney isn't just a film studio, they want to find a way to keep kids' interest in the old classics.

They can certainly use Frozen and Coco in the theme parks and for merch. But they still want to keep all that they've built up on the old stories. So how do they do that? By making new films that are a little different but mainly still just the same thing, reworked in a new way that children today will watch today. They don't need to win over the parents to love the new movies and say they're the best thing ever: if the parents just buy a copy at the store when it becomes a low-priced DVD or they turn the movie on at home through Netflix, then the kids are the ones getting to see the story and getting to form a connection with it just like their parents did before them with the animated films. They'll both love the same story, even if they made a connection to it from a different source.

It makes enough sense that I'm sure Disney must have been thinking this all along and I don't know why I only just realized it now. (That is, maybe I had to a lighter degree, but I hadn't quite made that connection with the whole kids-don't-like-old-animation thing before.)

Aladdin

While my deeper investment with Beauty and the Beast (both the 1991 film and the story in general) probably increased my criticism of that live-action remake, I don't have the same connection with the 1992 film. In fact, I really didn't have any memories of watching it growing up--so I really didn't see it until college. That makes watching a live-action remake easier, I'm sure.

As far as the live-action remakes of the princess films go, Aladdin seemed to settle on the ground that Beauty and the Beast was unable to. Beauty and the Beast was like they were just recreating scenes--and not as well--and with additional scenes that changed the pacing or theme too much to go along with the rest of it. (Cinderella, by the way, I thought was wonderful--there they did a subtle tweaking that adjusted the plot/theme just slightly to modernize it.) Aladdin kept the familiar things like the songs or certain moments but did everything different--and to a different theme.

We know that it's all going to be different not from the Genie story framing but from meeting Jasmine right away in the marketplace. We see her first from Aladdin's perspective, which is fitting because the film is named for him, after all. So we see the events of the story unfold differently than they do in the animated version.

And they did a great job at modernizing the theme here, too. Less subtle than with Cinderella, here it was a complete reworking. One of the things I've criticized about the animated film is its reliance on the same old marriage plot, despite being a modern film. So here they just reworked that and made the point being rulership of the kingdom. Jasmine has to marry because she can't be sultan. Her words in the film focus not on wanting to marry for love but on her love for her kingdom. And the final "success" is her father making her sultan. As sultan, she can choose to marry who she loves (Aladdin), but that becomes secondary. It is more important for Jasmine to have her place than for her to marry Aladdin.

They also more greatly stressed Aladdin's character here. Yet they also managed to do this without overdoing it. They didn't make him this greater-than-life, perfect man. He's just a guy. He does some nice things and he does some selfish things and he does some awkward things. He's just a guy, but a good guy. And he went along this journey with his wishes, where he had the opportunity to fall in with temptation but in the end he does honor her values and relationships by choosing to free Genie.

Genie. I don't like Will Smith's vocals for the opening "Arabian Nights," but his style fit well for Genie's songs. For these songs, they also found a way to make them feel live-action with CG and not just like animated sequences in a live-action film (looking at you, "Be Our Guest," in the aforementioned other film). So it all worked. Speaking of music, I didn't care for Jasmine's new songs. One, because there were all of those shifts to keep the story from Aladdin's perspectives--yet the songs stressed Jasmine's perspective. Two, because they felt too staged even for a Disney film. In fact, this would be a good time to mention that overall this film felt much like watching a better-than-usual, bigger budget, made-for-TV movie. It had that cloying quality to it. Not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation.

The use of dance was great, though. They went for almost a 1950's or 1960's era musical style, with all of the grand choreography. If you're going to make a musical, right? (And maybe this style was also why those songs where Jasmine was just walking towards the camera and singing felt out of place with the rest of it all.)

So it was an entertaining movie to watch. Enjoyable, family film. I wouldn't call it anything more than that--but that's okay.

The Voice of Snow

I think I mentioned getting a record player a few months ago. It makes me feel cool because music truly does sound different--and now when I'm out doing my antiquing, I can take a look at the records, too, because they're now relevant to me.

Like the stack of Disney records I came across yesterday. Mary Poppins and Bambi and Peter Pan. I took the two I liked best, Snow White and Cinderella (if only they'd had my dearest, Sleeping Beauty). The latter mainly for "So This Is Love" and the former for "Some Day My Prince Will Come" and "One Song." They are in fact more than just songs. Each record also comes with an illustrated storybook and the audio contains narration in addition to the songs. Kind of nice if you do want to put them on for children or even for yourself while doing housework or something. But a little inconvenient if what you want is just to listen to a specific song (there are no marks in the records themselves that show the breaks between songs like usual since the narration makes it all just one continuous audio piece).

It isn't too hard, though, to find each one since you do know at what point in the story the song you want comes in. And oh, is it lovely to hear these songs in this way. (The records, by the way, are from 1960.)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs I have said many times is as near to perfect as is possible. Disney did something amazing with that one. The combination of Grimm's with the 1930's with Disney just hit it right. And so you put that dark and yet hopeful music and Snow's child voice into a record player and you just have something special. You're transported.

It's that Gothic element that makes Snow White so great--and makes me so biased in favor of it. Darkness and light, darkness and light, darkness and light. Darkness and light coming from my record player now.

The Disney Boys: Part 9 - Hercules

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, and Part 8.

Moving right along from 1996's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, we have Hercules from the very next following year. For the nineties being the era of "girl power" and for there being so much focus from Disney on giving different traits to the princesses (Ariel's spirit, Belle's intelligence, Mulan's physical abilities, etc.), the decade also brought plenty of male characters to the Disney bunch. And that's good: we need both the guys and the gals with all their good traits in fiction and in life. 

I would make a comment about how the emphasis with Hercules on physical strength is different from the emphasis for the princesses, except that Mulan came out the following year and Mulan also went through fight training to become her own type of hero. Interestingly, Mulan and Hercules start off on flip sides. Hercules, though he becomes stronger, starts off already physically strong; his journey is learning what it is to be a real hero. Mulan already knows what it is to be a hero: that's what drove her to take her father's place in the war--her journey was more physical, in learning how to push herself to learn a new type of skill set. 

Hercules starts off a little blind. Hopefully that isn't too much of a stereotype there, but then again, his story is just a hero's journey story, so it's all archetype, anyway. Stereotype, archetype, what's the difference, after all? Hercules is born to the highest place, even higher than princesses like Aurora and Snow White. He isn't a prince; he's a god, the son of Zeus, born to live on Mount Olympus. Like Maleficent with Aurora, the actions of Hades cause Hercules to grow up away from his royal birthright. Also like Aurora, even living as a common person isn't enough to disguise Hercules.

He stands out. Born inherently strong, Hercules remains physically strong even down on earth. He didn't have to work for this strength like Mulan did; he just has it. And he doesn't know how to use it. He wants to help but all he does is make a mess of things, even physically knocking over the whole town center. Like so many at the start of their journey, he feels out of place and longs for something more. Hercules feels like he's supposed to be somewhere else--which is quite true. He isn't just Cinderella looking longingly at the castle before she starts her day of work; he truly was born to live up in the sky instead of down on earth. So that makes sense. But notice what else he dreams of. Not just of belonging but also of cheering crowds. Therein lies the problem: Hercules is just a young person dreaming about fame and acceptance. Even when he says, "I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong," he doesn't truly understand where "anywhere" will be and what he will have to do to gain what he seeks.

When Zeus tells him that he must become a hero to regain his status as an immortal, Hercules is, like a young person once more, excited and eager. He promises not to let Zeus down and now sings that he will "face the world, fearless, proud, and strong." Yet he's still seeking a "hero's welcome." He sings about being fearless and strong without realizing yet what strength is.

Even when he trains with Phil, Hercules learns strength, agility, and technique. But he's still just that same young man, only with an ego now to replace his awkward feeling back at home. He thinks that now that he can control his strength, everyone will finally love him. His first encounter saving Meg goes awkwardly and he oddly introduces himself as a hero in Thebes, only to receive laughter in response. And even when he does help them? What does he say then? "I did great--they even applauded." He still has the wrong focus. 

When Hercules talks to Zeus again, what does he tell him? That he's beaten everyone he's fought and that he's famous. Zeus didn't ask him to fight anyone or to become famous; he asked him to become a hero. It is only at the end, when Meg gives him a reason to think of someone else before himself, that Hercules finally acts out what Zeus has been hinting at. Diving in to save Meg from death's grip even at risk to his own life, Hercules finally achieves his immortality. As Zeus says, "a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength but by the strength of his heart." Being able to fight had nothing to do with it. 

And did you notice? By the time the crowds did cheer for him, Hercules no longer cared about receiving their cheers. He was just focused on Meg by that point. A hero doesn't seek glory for himself. Very classic journey there. 

The Disney Boys: Part 8 - Quasimodo

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7.

I don't entirely know how Disney managed to make 1994's The Hunchback of Notre Dame a G-rated movie. Following off of The Lion King's Hamlet themes, this film took on Victor Hugo's quite serious novel. It shows Frollo creeping after Esmeralda, Frollo almost drowning a baby, Frollo setting a house on fire with a whole family inside, the crowd tying up Quasimodo at the Festival of Fools, etc. I don't say this as a criticism; in fact, I admire the fact that Disney managed to make a G movie while still including all of this (and people say that Disney doesn't show the dark side of life). That was quite a feat--and when I watch this movie, I start to wonder why I don't usually think to add it to my top Disney films. 

But we're supposed to be focused on just one character here, right? And therein probably lies the reason why, despite being such a good film, there isn't much Hunchback merchandise available at the Disney Store. The protagonist is Quasimodo, the "half-formed," the "monster," the one so "hideous" that the world can't accept him. While the Disney princesses are all supposed to be beautiful and even the Disney boys, if their physical looks are mentioned, are generally understood to be good-looking, as well. So the fact that Quasimodo is intentionally "not easy on the eyes" is different and great--even if it means that we really are materialistic because nobody buys Quasimodo merch.

The film sets up deep themes beautifully, right from the start. Clopin sings about the riddle of "who is the monster and who is the man." Though Quasimodo has the rough exterior that Frollo says no one will accept (and in most cases, he's kind of right) and Frollo is the one "accepted" by society because he's a public official, Quasimodo is the one with a good exterior and Frollo is not. If you didn't get the theme in Beauty and the Beast about physical appearances not mattering, you get it now. 

The first time we see Quasimodo's face is when he is reaching out into the light and speaking gently to the baby bird, helping him to fly. So even though we've been warned that his face won't look "normal," we see that he is a kind person. 

He's also obedient. He trusts Frollo to a certain degree and he tries to listen and obey (he's afraid to defy him by going to the Festival) because he wants to be content in his lot and repay Frollo for rescuing him. Their relationship isn't entirely unlike Rapunzel and Mother Gothal. Gothal similarly tells Rapunzel that she wouldn't be able to survive in the world outside; both figures are just using their charges while keeping them in line with threats disguised as love and care.

The interesting thing about Quasimodo's desire to leave his tower is that it isn't self-centered. When he looks down at the city, he notices every person in it. He notices enough details about them to carve them all, recognizably, out of wood. He doesn't want to go out there to see what he can be; he wants to go out there to meet all of them and be with all of them. Think about it. Even in his tower, he does his best to interact with the statues and the birds and the bells, to give them names and identities and to look after their needs. This is why, when he gets pulled into the plight of the gypsies, he chooses to help them. 

I'll take a moment here to point out that, while his face may not be what the world looks for, Quasimodo is as fit as any other Disney gent, right up there with Tarzan and Wreck-It Ralph (maybe Hercules has them all beat since he's, you know, a god). So used to swinging around taking care of the bells, he can leap from rooftops, too, even while carrying Esmeralda and her goat. And he so easily bests Phoebus, lifting him up off the ground without even realizing it. While we may not have control over what our faces look like (well, assuming plastic surgery doesn't exist), we do have control over the fitness of our bodies (well, assuming no conditions or illnesses that would prevent this--and I admit there are quite a few). 

Quasimodo finally realizes that Frollo really has been lying to him when he sees the shadow of the knife on the wall. And it is so easy for him to get the better of Frollo, this man who has held him down for twenty years. All he had to do was say no, you have no power over me and I won't let you get away with this any longer. And he doesn't go at Frollo with revenge exactly, either: it is Frollo who, in saying his line about expunging the wicked, sentences himself to the justice of his death. 

And what Quasimodo comes out of this whole experience with is more kindness and graciousness. Even though he liked Esmeralda, he sees that she likes Phoebus and not him and that Phoebus likes her; so Quasimodo puts their hands together, telling them that it's okay, he's happy to see that his two new friends are happy together. He's just glad to have made friends outside of the tower for once; he knows that there are more important things than "getting the girl." (And if you watch the sequel, which isn't half-bad for a sequel, he does get the girl, though of course it isn't Esmeralda.) 

When the city cheers for Quasimodo and what he has done to help the people, their cheers show that looks no longer matter. They don't see his face anymore; they see his face, that is the face of the person who has done good for them. The inside works its way out--and that is what you wear on your face, whether you are considered "beautiful" or not. Especially with our current society love of considering ourselves beautiful (I get that you shouldn't believe that you're ugly and that you should have a positive self-esteem, but there is too much obsession with physical appearance and self-love), I greatly admire this theme of placing the emphasis back on the actions. So even if Quasimodo would probably never win as the favorite Disney character (would anyone name his as their favorite?), he might actually be the best one, in the sense of the whole role model thing that we're looking at in these two series of posts. 

The Disney Boys: Part 7 - Simba

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6.

Simba will be the second exception to my decision not to include animal characters in this series. After all, 1994's The Lion King has characters even more like people than in Bambi or 101 Dalmatians. The 90's Disney films started getting deep, too, didn't they? (Just wait until we get to The Hunchback of Notre Dame next time.) Not that Disney was ever not deep; it's just that Disney is traditionally more simply good versus evil, which is simple deep. The Lion King, though, is all of the crazy mess of inner life conflict reacting against the outer world that is Hamlet. And Simba, as Hamlet, has quite the personal journey there.

He begins as a normal child: eager, adventurous, positive, and friendly. He's excited to get into mischief and excited about the idea of being the king someday. But Simba's childhood ends early with the great shock that is the death of Mufasa. Following Scar's manipulation and bad advice, Simba flees into the "adolescent failure" stage. People nowadays call it "experimenting." Simba runs and hides, ignoring all that was important to him (his family, his home, and his friendship with Nala) in favor of looking out for himself only. He gives in to fear and, almost in a way, hedonism. And yet, even during this self-centered time, Simba's social side and his care for others still shows through in his friendship with Timon and Pumba. He doesn't just go off on his own; he finds a new posse, a new "family unit" to try and replace the one that he abandoned.

As the story goes on, you could say that this story is an instance where the princess saves the prince, assuming here that we want to consider Nala a princess (technically, after all, she's probably Simba's half-sister, right? though we'd probably rather not think about it that way). Nala, venturing far from home to try and help her people/family, finds Simba and tells him to come back. They talk about it and though Nala doesn't in that moment convince him, this conversation does lead in to Simba's encounter with Rafiki and then his vision of his father, all of which then leads to his decision to return to Pride Rock and take his place. So you can say that Simba and Nala make a good team.

Now, maybe everyone won't like this perspective, but I find Simba a great example of the male head of household setting up order for his family. What I like about this perspective is that Simba's taking on of this role emphasizes not the power of the role but the responsibility of it. This responsibility is what Mufasa tried to explain to the young Simba--what Simba could only understand for himself once he grew up and experienced that position for himself of seeing what it meant to stand up for his family/pride. And if you don't want to see it as specifically the "male head of household" thing, then you can simply see it as one person looking out for other people.

Or you can even see Simba's move to take his place as king as his move to take his place in the world. We all tend to struggle with wondering what our place is and finding out how to settle into it. It isn't always easy. So Simba's story shows what it means to realize what your role is and how you can perform it and how your own choices affect so many other people. That's life. Ah, these deep 90's Disney films. 

The Disney Boys - Part 6: Aladdin

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.

Interestingly, with the list of characters I put together for this series, 1992's Aladdin is the sixth film that I cover--and it was also the sixth film in my Disney Princess Analysis. Instead of focusing on Jasmine, this time I'm focusing on the title character. Aladdin is the character who is in a princess movie but isn't a prince. He would start a trend with this trait: the male love interests in the next princess movies, Pocahontas and Mulan, and then later in Tangled are not princes, either. 

Instead, Aladdin is the "diamond in the rough," the "one whose worth lies beneath." What does that mean, though?

Aladdin is poor: he lives on the streets and steals food to survive. He says that "you're only in trouble if you get caught," so obviously he doesn't have any moral qualms about stealing constantly. But should he? His need to steal is based off of a corrupt society; he is literally just surviving, not trying to take from others. And in fact he normally gives to others rather than taking things for himself. He can't help but give the children the bread he's about to eat. And rather than urging Abu to give away his piece, too, Aladdin just walks away and leaves Abu to make that choice for himself. It's all about personal choice, right? Rather than just feeding children, Aladdin also defends them, like when he stops the children in the crowd from getting hit with the whip. So his instincts are all positive; they all look outward, at others, rather than inward.

Still, it's hard for Aladdin not to let the "street rat" comments get to him. He knows better and tries to convince himself that they're wrong to call him that--but it's hard. And instead of watching Cinderella looking out her window at the castle, here we get to see a young man instead of a young woman looking out in the distance at the palace, dreaming of riches and a better life without any problems. Everyone can dream--and everyone can have life try and squeeze the dreams out of them. 

After Aladdin helps Jasmine get away in the market (where he shows off his cleverness with quick improvisational skills), he is eager to share his dream of the palace with her. This, of course, leads to their shared expression of feeling "trapped," which continues the film's theme of freedom and bondage. Both Aladdin and Jasmine feel bound by their places in society; they are not free to live in even the simplest ways. 

In prison, Aladdin falls for Jafar's trick because he is a dreamer. Is he tricked because of his innocence or dumbness? Is he just too pure to realize it's a trick, or is he blinded by his dreams of riches and his newfound infatuation with Jasmine? Maybe a little bit of both. 

Now, Aladdin always seemed likable to the other poor of the city. He makes it a point to treat others well. For instance, he's kind to the magic carpet--which reaps rewards because the carpet subsequently saves his life twice in a row. And of course Aladdin is also quick to promise the Genie that he will use his last wish to free him. Might I add here a note about Aladdin's description to Genie of Jasmine: "she's smart and funny and--beautiful." Of course he has to like her physically, as well, but isn't it interesting that this film makes a point of having Aladdin remark on Jasmine's character rather than just her looks. Generic comments, sure, but it's just an animated movie.

Let's get back to Aladdin's dream of riches. When he comes in, all triumphant, in his Prince Ali garb, he tries to woo the Sultan more than Jasmine. So pleased with his new images of wealth, Aladdin shows off and in so presenting himself as a wealthy prince, he neglects the very traits that made Jasmine fall for him. All of this leads to his later conversation with Genie, in which he claims that he can't give Genie his freedom after all. From this, we can see that Aladdin really does have some self-worth issues, after all. He has trouble breaking free from the "street rat" comments even now: he feels like a worthless poser in his fancy robes and he thinks that, without Genie, it will become obvious to everyone that he is nothing. 

None of this, of course, is true. In the end, it's Jafar who, in wishing for ultimate power, receives ultimate bondage. Aladdin, by risking losing Jasmine, decides that he must use his last wish to free Genie, after all--and in so doing frees himself, too. The "diamond in the rough" proves his worth by choosing someone else before himself, and in this way he shows that he is not a street rat but is instead a person who makes good choices with what he is given.

You know, I didn't really grow up watching this movie, so when I watched it (as if for the first time) a few years back, I didn't really care for it. But it's growing on me. Particularly I like how Aladdin shows some of the traits that often characterize the princesses, traits that people sometimes complain about as being weak but are in fact simply human characteristics. We all have our moments of struggle, and it's seeing characters who come up on the right side after the struggle that provides inspiration. And writing up this post has made me realize just how big that theme of freedom and bondage is in this film. When it all comes to it, Aladdin's a pretty inspirational character. 

The Disney Boys - Part 5: Taran

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Taran who, you ask? Why, Taran from 1985's The Black Cauldron, of course. It's one of those Disney films that doesn't get mentioned much--especially by Disney. Although Disney sometimes gets criticized (quite unfairly, I might add) for being too bright, here is an example of when people just don't accept a darker tone. The Black Cauldron was Disney's first PG animated film, and even though children nowadays tend to watch plenty of PG-13 films, I would say that this film is darker than plenty of those. Maybe it has less fighting than, for instance, the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, but it's still darker and genuinely terrifying. 

So who is this Taran who lives inside this dark movie? Well, given that the story is a basic good and evil one, Taran is our hero. He's the boy who starts off daydreaming about going off to fight. He imagines becomes a famous warrior because of his great bravery. Like Arthur and Mowgli, Taran also starts off asserting that he isn't afraid. Dallben, his mentor, of course tells him that he would be foolish not to be afraid of the Horned King.

Yet on his first test, Taran fails. Dallben sends him off to get Hen Wen to safety and what does Taran do? He starts daydreaming again and Hen Wen gets away. Still, Taran doesn't hesitate to try to save Hen Wen from the dragons that are after her--and neither does he hesitate to enter the Horned King's castle to try and free her. He does seem to have courage after all; he even admonishes Gurgi for not coming with him. 

Inside the castle, same thing. Taran loses his safe lookout spot in his desperate desire to save Hen Wen and he stands up for her even though he is face to face with the Horned King himself. Taran even gets away from the King and all his minions. Then he makes the choice to put Hen Wen over the wall first, the consequence being that he is captured while Hen Wen gets free.

Taran finds power but also his own weakness in the magical sword. He is thrilled to see what it can do, and having it fuels his high hopes for himself. Later, when the group escapes and Taran tries to prove himself to Eilonwy, all he does is the opposite. All he shows her is that, despite everything, he is still just the boy daydreaming about fame and greatness and not really understanding what it truly means to stand up for someone else (even though he has in fact stood up for others by this point). 

When Taran offers the sword that he loves in exchange for the cauldron so that he can destroy it and all of the Horned King's evil plans, he begins to understand. He gives up his chance for fame in the hopes of achieving something greater. Later, when he has the chance to trade the cauldron back for the sword, he can't do it because he realizes that the sword itself meant nothing. "I'm not a warrior . . . what would I do with a sword?" Taran realizes that it's the role he has been given that has been most important. He played his role to protect Hen Wen and now it is his time to help Gurgi, who helped him by taking his place in the cauldron. Helping others matters more than fame. 

In this the darkest of the Disney animated films, we have a character who learns what sacrifice and friendship and courage mean. And many of the lessons he learns, I might add, he learns with the help of Eilonwy; more than "strong female characters" (I find that phrase vague and unhelpful toward anyone) I value male and female characters (each with their own sets of strengths and weaknesses) who can work together. The Black Cauldron offers us that. Eilonwy is optimistic and brave, and Taran is hopeful and brave. They show the difference we can make by choosing the side of good. 

The Disney Boys - Part 4: Robin Hood

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

We've come to another gap between the timelines of the Disney Princess Analysis and the Disney Boys series. The fourth princess was 1989's Ariel, but the fourth gent is the title character of 1973's Robin Hood. Still, Ariel and Robin have some similarities. They're both adventurous, social, and generally likable people. 

I say people because even though I kept most of the "animal movies" out of this series, the characters of this film act like they're humans: the fact that they're drawn as animals is an artistic, stylistic, and thematic choice (as opposed to a film like Bambi where the characters are literally set up as animals). And even though Robin is a fox, we still know what type of a person he is. They drew him to look dapper and attractive, sort of suave and friendly. He has that smile that shows that he always likes to look on the positive side, even if he just had an arrow run through his hat.

That would be bravery, too, then. He doesn't even wink in fear at that brush with death. Maybe this nonchalance stems from his lack of concern over the future. This is where Robin is unlike the princesses. While they have hopes and fears about the future, Robin is just concerned with the present. All he's doing is trying to help out the people around him--while daydreaming about Marian (I'll come back to that last part presently). Even though he's so positive, in a way he doesn't have hope for the future: all he sees is the bad around him, the bad that he's trying to limit as much as he can.

Making others, particularly children, is Robin's biggest trait. He surprises Skippy on his birthday and doesn't hold back at all, even gifting the boy his own hat off of his head. Later, he risks arrows to go back and save Skippy's younger sister, sending her through the gate to Little John while telling him, "Keep going--don't worry about me." His nonchalance isn't from lack of knowing what danger or evil are. 

Robin is also inventive and sneaky. Even though he's the thief in the woods for humanitarian reasons, he quite enjoys his role. He likes being active and catching people off guard. He likes dressing up in disguises to trick everyone, whether it's dressing up as a gypsy woman to steal the rings from Prince John's fingers or as a beggar to distribute extra coins that he's stolen to the poor.

Primarily Robin a classic manly character: he's great at archery and sword fighting and protecting women and children. But he's also chivalric: he isn't afraid or hesitant to confess his love for Marian. For him, all of those "manly virtues," if you will, mean nothing if they're not grounded in the "matters of the heart," so to speak--that is, the love for his fellow mankind (not quite mankind in this film, but you get the idea), love for his king, and love for his lady. So what do we have there? Once you write it all down, Robin's characteristics have a great balance of the two sides that can make up a "good" person. He has heart and bravery, thief and outlaw through he is. 

The Disney Boys - Part 3: Mowgli

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1, and Part 2.

From 1963's The Sword in the Stone, we are moving on just a couple of years or so to 1967's The Jungle Book. This film is a bit like 1951's Alice in Wonderland in the sense that Mowgli, like Alice, is essentially just wandering around a land and meeting different types of characters--but Mowgli does have more characterization than Alice does, so we have at least enough of a sense of who he is for this post. 

The obvious trait to bring up, though, doesn't have to do with Mowgli's character but rather with his physical self. The story takes place in India, meaning that Mowgli's the first non-white character in this series, even though we're still in the sixties. It took until the nineties for the Disney princesses to start gaining some racial diversity. So that's cool that the boys got a head start in this area (interestingly, I count both five non-white characters in this series and in the princess series). 

Like Pinocchio and Arthur, Mowgli is just a boy, not a teenager like the princesses are. Like Aurora, though, he grew up outside of "his" homeland and within Nature. Instead of being raised by fairies, though, he's raised by wolves. The thing is, though, The Jungle Book turns everything around: instead of Mowgli's upbringing being evidence of wildness, it is evidence of innocence. He is raised to respect Nature and the animals within it, rather than loving hunting and guns like Man (when raised among his own kind) does. 

Mowgli, then, is a completely positive character. Just look at him interacting with the other animals, for instance. He observes them and sees how they do things and then joins in. He's friendly and interested in learning others' ways. He talks to the young elephant before joining in the elephant march. He quickly starts up a mentor/apprentice relationship with Baloo. Near the end of the film, when he is feeling sad and betrayed, the vultures, by acting friendly to him, remind Mowgli of who he is: a friend to everyone who accepts him. 

The reason Mowgli is so friendly with so many different types of animals is that he sees what they all have to offer. When Bagheera comments on Mowgli's ineptitude at climbing a large tree, Mowgli explains that it's because he doesn't have claws like Bagheera does. He's smart, and he's able to recognize individual strengths--and to try and imitate any strengths that he sees. 

Mowgli is brave, too. Because the jungle is the only home he's ever known, he stands up to Bagheera and says that he wants to stay and isn't afraid of Shere Khan. This isn't just words, either. When he does finally face Shere Khan, Mowgli doesn't run: he prepares to fight instead. And when the vultures try and get him away to safety, he protests, "Let go--Baloo needs help." He won't flee just to save himself when he knows his friend is in danger. 

Not that Mowgli is entirely without fault. He does fall for King Louie's offer. But he also learns from misjudgments. The second time Kaa tries to get him, Mowgli knows what's happening and knows not to trust Kaa. And Mowgli is, after all, just a child, so it's natural (well, it would be at any age, too, honestly) for him to misjudge some situations. 

It's the princesses who are known for making friends with animals, but Mowgli quite literally talks to and befriends animals--and not in the casual way of Snow White or Aurora. He talks with them and shares in their stories and gets to know them, so much so that they are willing to risk their lives to save him. That makes Mowgli, first and foremost, a friend, which is not a bad trait at all. 

The Disney Boys - Part 2: Arthur

Click to read my introduction to this series and Part 1.

Our first jump in between movies is big. From 1940's Pinocchio we're moving all the way to 1963's The Sword in the Stone, which is a much bigger jump than when I went from 1937's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to 1950's Cinderella. I wished at first that I had a movie to represent the 50's, but it turns out that The Sword in the Stone was close enough to that era to capture some of its essence, after all. In fact, there are definitely some similarities between Arthur and Cinderella--and between Arthur and 1959's Aurora/Sleeping Beauty. 

Like Pinocchio, Arthur is primarily just a boy. Interesting to note that while the Disney princesses are mostly teenagers (that is, young women who could easily be anywhere in the range of fifteen to twenty-five), the male side of films starts off with younger children. Pinocchio was about, what, eight or nine at the most? Arthur is around twelve, and physically he's on the young side, still thin and coming into his own. A child, not quite a young man yet. 

When I said that he's primarily just a boy, I meant his personality, too. Not entirely unlike Cinderella, he's defined more by certain things that he says or does than by a general sense of who he is or what he would choose to spend his time doing. That is, his personality is just that he's good. He takes to Merlin's guidance right away because he is perfectly willing to submit to a higher, positive authority. And when Merlin uses his magic to do the kitchen duties, Arthur begins to protest by telling him, "I'm supposed to do it." So he's honest--and even though Sir Ector and Kay don't treat him well, he spends absolutely no time complaining that this isn't fair. He just does his duties and looks forward to possibilities (becoming a squire). 

In this way, he is completely like Cinderella, except perhaps more practical and less dramatic. He even sings while he's cleaning (a pot in the kitchen instead of the foyer floor). I guess, while Cinderella has lived a different life, this life is all Arthur knows. All he knows is being a servant, so to him there is nothing shameful or negative about looking forward to being a squire (true that Cinderella doesn't even have a higher level of servitude to look forward to). He doesn't need to dream about far off castles because, like he tells Merlin, he doesn't "have any problems." 

Not to say that Arthur is completely subservient. Because he is honest and good, he recognizes Merlin as good right away and is even willing to stand up to Ector on Merlin's behalf. He doesn't ever attempt to stand up for himself (I don't think the thought even occurs to him), but he is quick to defend Merlin. 

I made the comparison between Arthur and Aurora because both of their stories contain this concept of royalty that cannot be hidden. Aurora is regal despite being raised as a peasant girl in the middle of the woods. And Arthur is the king in the guise of a servant. Both of them have a hidden identity, a secret that can't be contained by mere physical traits/surroundings.

The biggest difference between Arthur and any of the princesses is surprisingly (for me, at least) hard to admit, though it's so big. The Sword in the Stone is all about education, something that isn't really emphasized for any of the princesses, though possibly in part because education doesn't always make for the most interesting story. Think about it--whose favorite Disney movie is The Sword in the Stone? I'm sure a couple of people would name it, but in general it isn't one of the top films. (And I'm not counting Belle's story as being about education. Yes, Belle liked to read and her conversation with Gaston, who was disgusted by the idea of a woman getting ideas and thinking based on her reading, did veer toward the concept of education. But in general Belle's reading is more her passion and her escape than a quest for knowledge and "bettering herself.") 

Right away, Merlin comes in and looks at what Arthur has been studying (the "sporty" side, with jousting and swordsmanship and the like) and says that what he needs is an education. So Merlin, through these various trips turning into animals, teaches Arthur about different perspectives and about how all of the pieces can come together in a situation. He's constantly emphasizing that "knowledge and wisdom is the real power." Whereas for the princesses, goodness is most important, Merlin believes that Arthur will act out goodness if he has a foundation in knowledge. 

So while Arthur might not have the most exciting film of them all (if you're watching the two of them turn into fish and birds and wondering when you finally get to the sword in the stone bit), his story does emphasize positive traits, including that theme of education that none of the others really stress. Honesty, diligence, and the ability to listen and learn make up Arthur's character.