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?

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. 

The Disney Boys - Part 1: Pinocchio

Click here to read my Introduction to this series.

If this series will involve some comparison of the Disney girls and boys, then 1940's Pinocchio makes for the perfect companion to 1937's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Both are moral tales with the classic Disney elements of good (light and bright) and evil (pretty dark). The difference is that, while Snow White is a good example of behavior and various virtues, Pinocchio is an example of what happens to us when we inevitably fail in our aims to be good.

Pinocchio is Man, Geppetto is his Creator, Jiminy Cricket is his Conscience/Moral Compass, Honest John and Gideon and Stromboli are Temptation, and Pleasure Island is Sin. It's all so straightforward that I feel like I don't have much to talk about.

Geppetto makes Pinocchio, but he is just wood. The Blue Fairy gives him life, but along with that comes the ability to make choices. Only Pinocchio can make himself "a real boy" because only Pinocchio can choose the correct path. He has the free will to be a good boy and listen to his father and to Jiminy or to follow Honest John down to Pleasure Island, where a false feeling of freedom soon gives way to bondage. Only when he escapes and is willing to follow his father (who has been calling out to him all this time) wherever need be (all the way into the mouth of Monstro) can Pinocchio become "real." In essence, this is when he becomes the "new creation," that is, the boy who is no longer just moving wood.

Talk about this being a story to set an example for children--it's an example for adults, as well. There are right choices and there are wrong choices, and sometimes we don't quite realize that we're on our way into wrong choices--but that's all the more reason to pay attention to where we're placing our focus in our daily lives. And just because we've walked down that wrong path, doesn't mean our Creator won't be still calling out to us, waiting for us to return. Also, when you ask in good conscience for something and you have shown that you're worthy to receive, well, miracles do happen and people do receive what they have so greatly wanted (Geppetto received his boy and Pinocchio became alive and real).

Pinocchio's quest is to become "brave, truthful, and unselfish." These are all positive traits, especially viewed with one another. You want to be brave, but not at the expense of being truthful and unselfish; also, being brave will at times help you to be truthful and unselfish. You don't just wish upon a star; you don't just make a prayer. You do that and you look inward to see what you are or aren't doing in your life. That's all pretty positive.

So that's all I have to say. Pinocchio starts us off very much like Snow White does, with a simple moral tale. Sure, characters later on will introduce more elements, but this character and this film offer enough on their own for a wonderful story with a wonderful message for the audience.

The Disney Boys: Introduction

Over a course of some months, I had a series of posts in which I analyzed the Disney princesses. Mostly I was defending them by pointing out the ways in which they are positive role models; I also looked at the ways in which specific characters offered more or less of the various things we might want from role model types. Given that those posts were popular (and I do enjoy talking Disney), now it's time to turn from the girls to the boys. I think that it's important for both girls and boys (and for women and men, for that matter) to see both girls and boys (and women and men) in fiction.

So while it was easy to just do a dozen posts on the twelve official Disney princesses, what am I planning for the Disney menfolk? I've made up my own set of rules. All Disney feature length animated films--no Pixar. Mainly only human characters, but a couple of animal characters made it in, too (The Lion King transcends animal/human and in Robin Hood they're basically just animals playing people, so that works). I've chosen twelve of them to match the twelve Disney princesses and make them both even numbers. No princes from Disney princess movies (though I could easily talk about Philip from Sleeping Beauty, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, Shang from Mulan, and Flynn Ryder from Tangled), mostly because I don't want to repeat things that I might have already touched on in the other set of posts. The one exception is Aladdin because that movie both is and isn't a princess movie and since it's named after Aladdin instead of Jasmine, it's the perfect subject for this series. (Moana isn't an exception because Moana isn't even considered an official Disney princess, anyway.) And I'm choosing only characters who are the main part of their story and who represent something positive (either their identity or their personal journey).

Here are the films I've chosen: Pinocchio, The Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, Robin Hood, The Black Cauldron, Aladdin, The Lion King, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, Tarzan, and Moana. I confess that I haven't watched Wreck-It Ralph yet (I kind of thought it was Pixar, and I don't keep up as much with Pixar because I don't usually like Pixar much); I think it will be part of this series, but if I watch it and decide that it doesn't, I'll go with Peter Pan instead (though honestly that wouldn't work perfectly because the film is more about the Darling family than about Peter himself--he's just a symbol, really).

I don't know to what degree I'll be comparing the male characters to the princesses. Going in, I'll have so many different sub-topics that I don't know what will be the main focuses by the time I've finished the series. I'm going to aim to do at least a couple of these a month, possibly more depending on how it goes. So this series could run anywhere from three to six months long.

While you wait for the first post, you can start over again with my Disney Princess Analysis. Click here to read what I had to say about Snow White.

Disney Princess Analysis - Part 12: Elena

Click to read Part 1 (Snow White), Part 2 (Cinderella), Part 3 (Aurora), Part 4 (Ariel), Part 5 (Belle), Part 6 (Jasmine), Part 7 (Pocahontas), Part 8 (Mulan), Part 9 (Tiana), Part 10 (Rapunzel), and Part 11 (Merida).

Elena is a first in many ways. She is the first Disney official Disney princess who comes not from a movie but from a TV show, Elena of Avalor, which began in 2016. (Note: I've only watched all the episodes up to December's "Navidad.") As I understand it, the idea for Elena came from the team behind Sofia the First. My head would, on its own, think that Elena was assigned to TV instead of to a movie, but as they describe it, they just wanted to create this show with this character and it wasn't that it was a decision to throw Elena just to TV or something. So I have to keep that in mind because, in many ways, it seems unfair that Elena is a TV show character instead of a movie character.

Elena is the first Hispanic Disney princess; though her land is inspired by Central America in general, to me she's from Mexico. I remember a few years back thinking that it was about time that Disney had a Hispanic princess. They were going for plenty of racial diversity with the princesses and yet they still hadn't covered this one angle--despite the fact that Disney has put plenty of effort into the Hispanic market (I remember that one year that MiceAge's April Fool's Day post said that California Adventure was turning into "Pixarlandia" both to target this market and because of the greater success at the time of Pixar films in comparison to Disney films). So I think Elena was a long time coming. And do you know what? Even though I'd been anticipating her, I didn't realize how much she would mean to me personally.

I'm three quarters Mexican but the thing is, I'm the type of person who creates my own culture and I think my parents are, too, in many ways; so I don't necessarily associate with all of the culture that other Mexican Americans do (as you can even tell by the type of "labels" I feel more natural using). Some of it, but not all of it. So I never felt like I needed Elena. I never thought that I needed the cultural representation. And I always thought that Belle was my look-alike princess because we both have brown hair, brown eyes, and light skin. 

And then along came Elena. Her skin tone is a little warmer than mine (though I almost think they chickened out and could have gone a little darker), but did you see her eyes? They're not brown like Belle's; they're brown like mine, deep brown. And her brown hair is full, with lots of body to it even though she keeps it in a ponytail. I didn't realize that such small things made such a difference. But for the first time, I found myself happy, personally happy, at this next step in racial diversity. I guess now I know what people mean when they clamor for representation. It doesn't mean that you can't associate with a character whose race is different from your own; it just means that you want some of the characters you see to be like you.

Because Elena is in a TV show, there is more time to describe her land her culture. With Mulan, we saw some Chinese writing and we certainly got different clothing and also some beliefs. With Jasmine, we got architecture. With Pocahontas, we got a little bit of her language, or at least the idea of it, and some of her beliefs. Elena's "diversity," though, is carried out more fully. Spanish phrases sprinkled in here and there give the idea of language, we see architecture and clothing and also something about the artistic design of the show in general, and we see many of her cultural traditions (here's what I meant about "I create my own culture:" I don't share many of Elena's traditions). So this was all valuable to see.

Elena's positives as a character? She's an optimistic person who is always willing to take the time to do a task right, to work at it with patience and perseverance until she's achieved what's needed. She values her people and her friends and her family. She sees the good in every person and helps them to see it in themselves and others to see it, as well. The true traits of a good leader. And Elena was designed not to have a love interest, so the show is all about other types of relationships and mainly shows Elena figuring out how to rule her kingdom. Which means we don't even have to spend any time analyzing whether or not she keeps her independency in her romantic relationship since that's just not part of her story--which I suppose is a good thing. I don't mind the Disney princesses having love stories but not every character needs a love story.

The negatives? I know I said that there were some positives to Elena being in a TV show versus a movie. But there are also some downsides. Namely, the way I described her as such a perfect person. Since this isn't just a TV show but a Disney TV show designed for a young audience (what is the age group? eight and under? or lower?), the characters can be intentionally flat in some ways. Elena goes through her struggles, yes, so she isn't perfect. But she's still a little overdone in her perfection, even in terms of her imperfections--on purpose. She is intentionally designed as a role model for children, more so than any of the other princesses except perhaps Merida. So in order to believe in her positive traits, you just have to ignore that flatness. This is kind of annoying. I would have liked such a character, the ruler of the magical kingdom of Avalor inspired by Central America, to be more real, to be less a Disney Channel character and more simply Disney. 

Still, Elena is designed with a lot of thought, and therefore for what she is, she is a good character and a good (final--for now, at least) addition to the Disney princess mix. 

This also means that we've made it through twelve posts on this subject. I may have started wandering somewhat away from my original style simply because there were so many posts on the same subject. But it's been an interesting journey, hasn't it? And because these have proved to be popular posts, I'm probably going to do another series (not right away, though) focusing on the main male characters in Disney animation. Not necessarily the princes, just the ones that I decide are the main characters of their stories. So you can look for that series in the coming weeks.

Disney Princess Analysis - Part 11: Merida

Click to read Part 1 (Snow White), Part 2 (Cinderella), Part 3 (Aurora), Part 4 (Ariel), Part 5 (Belle), Part 6 (Jasmine), Part 7 (Pocahontas), Part 8 (Mulan), Part 9 (Tiana), and Part 10 (Rapunzel).

I don't really know why Merida is part of this list; I really don't. Nor do I particularly want to include her in it. But I said I was going over the twelve official Disney princesses, and Disney gave Merida the whole initiation ceremony at Disneyland (or Disney World? or both?) after Brave came out in 2012, so here we have it. The first Disney princess who came not out of Disney Animation but out of Pixar. This fact alone baffles me because what then does prevent a character like Leia (who does appear animated in Star Wars: Rebels) from becoming a Disney princess? Because Merida is from Pixar, I would prefer not to include her in this list--because along with her different animated heritage, if that's what we can call it, come many different characteristics that separate her from the rest of the group even more so than a character like Moana (who is from Disney Animation but is not considered an official Disney princess).

Merida's story? Proving that she doesn't have to get married just to get married--once again, the same irrelevant to modern times (in this country, that is) theme that we really don't need to focus so much on anymore. And in Merida specifically saying that she doesn't have to marry right now (because there isn't anyone that she wants to marry right now), she's also just saying that she's still a child. (She's sixteen.) Okay. Good for Merida in saying that. But I need more of a theme or plot than that in order to make me praise what Merida brings to the table.

What's that? There is more to the story? Yes, this is true. Merida's character is also all about proving that a female character doesn't have to be all about the soft and traditionally feminine traits. Snow White and Cinderella were good at cleaning. Aurora and Ariel were good at singing. Tiana and Rapunzel liked to cook/bake. And Merida likes to ride her horse and practice archery. I do appreciate that about Merida's character--not because I mind female characters who can clean, sing, or bake. Just because it's good to have other skills/interests in there, as well. And I remember what a big deal people were making about the fact that Merida's toy bow and arrow set was in stores marketed toward girls. Usually the tea sets and play food are marketed toward girls and the toy guns and bows are marketed toward boys (don't get me wrong, I love tea sets, but archery is also pretty awesome). Of course, you don't need to listen to marketing: girls and boys and their parents can choose whatever toys they want. But it was good to see that nice bow and arrow for girls. 

The other thing about Merida's story is of course her relationship with her mother. Merida is, of course, one of the few Disney princesses to have both of her parents (she's the fourth one, I believe, though only the second to actually grow up with them). Throughout the movie, Merida shows her mother that just because she doesn't always act like the genteel lady that her mother wants her to be, she still cares about her culture, her people, and her family. It's a similar theme to Mulan's: she brought honor to her family in a completely different way than what everyone had expected. 

Now that I've spent all of this time on story, let me go back to just Merida's characteristics. Merida is designed to act natural, not to act like royalty. At Disneyland, she walks with just as specific a gait as Jack Sparrow does (and I slightly resent the fact that Merida is allowed to act like she does in the movie, while other princesses like Belle just all act like the same generic "Disney princess"). She's the second redheaded princess, and her wild mess of hair is its own personification of who she is. If I might add: this is what computer animation allows the artists to do. They could show each curl of hair (Merida is the first princess with curly hair, is she not?) because they didn't have to hand paint it all for every frame. 

We have evidence of Merida's kindness mainly through her relationship with her brothers. And while she does have some rebellion to her, it isn't general teenage rebellion like with Ariel: Merida is specifically rebelling to the fact that her mother wants to make her into someone that she isn't and doesn't feel like she can ever (or even should ever) be. Merida's rebellion has purpose--and she achieves that purpose when she gets her mother to see a different angle. 

So even though I think that Merida (like they say with Moana) is a different type of character who doesn't necessarily go with the Disney princess group, she does bring some good traits with her. 

Disney Princess Analysis - Part 10: Rapunzel

Click to read Part 1 (Snow White), Part 2 (Cinderella), Part 3 (Aurora), Part 4 (Ariel), Part 5 (Belle), Part 6 (Jasmine), Part 7 (Pocahontas), Part 8 (Mulan), and Part 9 (Tiana).

We're down to the last three entries into this series. We've also come to one of the most popular modern Disney princesses, Rapunzel from 2010's Tangled. It is at this point that I realize that it's been seven years since that movie came out, so there are children in second grade who weren't born yet at that time--and that is odd to realize since I feel like this is still a new movie.

Because they came out just a year apart, Tangled and The Princess and the Frog gave us the opportunity to analyze some things about what audiences liked. Of course, I was still preferring traditional animation at the time, so I preferred it to the computer animation of Tangled--but most people were latching onto computer animation at this time. There seemed to be a preference for the generic Medieval fantasy setting, as compared with TPATF's fairly modern New Orleans setting. Then, even with its less modern setting, Tangled had a more modern style, even in its one-word title. And while I thought that Tiana was a wonderful character and role model, it was Rapunzel that everyone instantly loved and wanted to go meet at Disneyland (they built a whole tower in Fantasyland for her) and it's Rapunzel that I still see people in their twenties dressing up as.

I'm in danger here about making this a post simply about my inability to see why people love Rapunzel so much in particular--when I'm supposed to be analyzing what she does or doesn't offer as a character in the Disney princess lineup. There is, though, some crossover between the two concepts. 

For instance, I know one thing that people like about Rapunzel. They like that she sticks up for herself. She hits Flynn with a pan when he climbs into the tower, then ties him up and questions him. She finds a way to reach the ruffians at the pub instead of being intimidated by them. Etc. But let me return to that frying pan--it kind of bothers me. In the past, fiction has shown women using pans as self-defense because it's the only thing they have access to or are able to wield. So I'm not exactly sure I want to praise a modern character's self-defense that is so heavily reliant on the traditional frying pan. Then again, part of the point of Rapunzel's character is that she is repressed by Mother Gothel. If her "mother" keeps her locked in this tower, then doesn't it make sense that she also encouraged Rapunzel to cultivate such gentle hobbies as cooking and painting instead of anything that might border more on independence and self-defense? So the reliance on the frying pan and the continued shock Rapunzel has about her own bold actions make sense within the story--but I find myself wondering why we're running through these same old themes while supposedly using a modern approach.

The fairy tale of Rapunzel is basically a coming of age, loss of innocence, and facts of life story. It's basically all about pregnancy and birth and ah, marriage. So how do you translate that into a "modern story?" By switching the birth bit to motherhood (through both Rapunzel's mother and Mother Gothel) and continuing to emphasize the relationship that forms between Rapunzel and Flynn. 

We end up, then, with a character who has this growing sense that she is missing something. The lanterns call to her because they represent the parents who are looking for her--and the lies that Mother Gothel is telling her, in particular that she is her mother. That's a very weak place for Rapunzel to begin, as a person, so I suppose it is telling on her decision to be strong that she manages to overcome the obstacles keeping her from the truth. Against her "mother's" word, she leaves the tower. She finds the lanterns. She finds her parents. She falls in love with Flynn, and he helps her overcome the bondage that Gothel has placed her in. Interesting to note there: when Rapunzel's ready to vow to stay with Gothel just to save Flynn, he's the one who cuts off her hair and thereby forever saves her from Gothel or anyone who would try and use her again in that way. So even though Rapunzel took it into her own hands to discover the truth, she needs help to get out of the situation she's in. I don't mind characters getting help from each other; I just see this as what people generally complain about concerning Disney princesses, even though it's coming from one of the most popular of the group. So that I don't really get.

I also don't get Rapunzel's style. She has a very pop voice, both in speaking and singing. It makes her sound too pre-teen to me, even though she's supposed to be turning eighteen and not twelve. 

Now, the previous princesses had all been introducing a new race or hair color, so Rapunzel was the first since the fifties to have a look that had been done before. That is, Cinderella was a blonde back in 1950, as was Aurora in 1959. While Rapunzel is technically a brunette, we see her blonde for almost the entire movie and she's always portrayed with her signature blonde hair in marketing because the long, golden hair is quintessential to the story of Rapunzel (even though Once Upon a Time did give Rapunzel black hair and it worked just fine, so sometimes things that we think are irremovable from a story actually aren't). I'm not saying that this is a bad thing because it isn't; I'm just making note of it. 

Rapunzel is intended to share her story with Flynn Rider, and they do so in a similar way to Aurora and Philip in Sleeping Beauty--except that Rapunzel and Flynn have conversations and Aurora and Philip just sing and dance in the woods. Let me note here that the "Once Upon a Dream" sequence makes sense because it's at the beginning and shows them falling in love. But "I See the Light," while a very nice song and a beautiful scene, makes less sense because it takes places towards the end. Yes, they see the light because they realize they've fallen in love, but the song is arranged in the movie as if it's when the plot begins to resolve. So is the movie saying that their stories resolve because they fall in love, rather than simply showing the falling in love as part of the story? These are just questions that I ask.

Have I come to no conclusions at all this time? Don't misunderstand me, I like Tangled (after "When Will My Life Begin?" ends, that is). And I don't really mind Rapunzel's character; it's just certain things that bother me when I begin to overanalyze. That is, she was never my favorite Disney princess and I don't like her more as time goes on (possibly I like her less), so I don't find her the most interesting addition to the mix. She's more of a neutral, super-animated CG character who doesn't need my praise to be herself and to be loved by the masses.

Disney Princess Analysis - Part 9: Tiana

Click to read Part 1 (Snow White), Part 2 (Cinderella), Part 3 (Aurora), Part 4 (Ariel), Part 5 (Belle), Part 6 (Jasmine), Part 7 (Pocahontas), and Part 8 (Mulan).

At long last, it's time to return to my analysis of the official Disney princesses. Rest assured that the long break I took from this series was not due to a lack of interest: the next princess, Tiana, is one of my favorites. If I were to put together a list of my top three Disney princesses it would probably be (in the order that their movies were released) Aurora, Belle, and Tiana. The last time I watched The Princess and the Frog I realized anew how much I deeply admire Tiana and genuinely want to learn from her. People talk about animated characters being potential role models for children, but Tiana is a role model for adults, too.

The Princess and the Frog came out in 2009, eleven years after the last princess movie, Mulan. Yet rather than being the long-awaited film, it was the movie that held onto the past by being the last one done with traditional animation (I'm so weird that I still miss traditional animation) and also introduced possibly odd elements that audiences just didn't know how to respond to (the fairly modern New Orleans setting and the great amount of time that our prince and princess spend as frogs). So I think all of that perhaps distracted from the wonderfulness of Tiana's character.

That is, it's also a possibility that Tiana was less popular than 2010's Rapunzel because Tiana is black and Rapunzel is blonde--even though everybody clamors about wanting representation for all types of people. I mean, we all hope that that isn't the case. (Note: The Princess and the Frog was, I believe, well-received. I'm talking here more about how much demand there is for Tiana merchandise or character meet and greets with Tiana or people dressing like Tiana, that sort of marker for popularity.) I think it was certainly exciting to have the first black Disney princess to follow after the previous racially diverse additions of Jasmine, Pocahontas, and Mulan. It seems possible that the filmmakers didn't just want to design this character visually; they also wanted to include race in the film itself. Instead of just choosing a fantasy setting, they chose the early-ish 20th century New Orleans setting so that they could show the contrast in social settings of Tiana's family and Charlotte's. 

Other than this being probably the first instance of a Disney princess film making note of race affecting a person's social situation (I'm not counting Pocahontas because that was two established cultures meeting for the first time, rather than showing the later results of that meeting--aka. reservations), this is also the first time that a princess is poor and lower class. Mulan wasn't a princess and I don't think she was upper class, either, but her family had a higher social class than Tiana's. Tiana's family is just barely making ends meet by working from sunup to sundown. I can't decide whether or not it was necessary to create this background for Tiana, but it is interesting and it does set up a wonderful character that I suppose wouldn't have existed if she had come from a different background. (I'm almost forgetting to state one obvious fact: once again, Tiana isn't born a princess and doesn't become one until she, like Belle, marries a prince.)

This brings us around to my reason for admiring Tiana so much. This movie came out during my first year of college, that time when I was getting myself used to a thorough method of studying and analysis while also looking forward to where all this work could bring me. So to hear Tiana talk about dreams and about working hard to achieve dreams did speak to me. Snow White and Cinderella teach us virtues, Belle and Mulan teach us the importance of sticking up for ourselves and for the people we care about, and Tiana teaches us to persevere. She is truly untiring, working all of her jobs and saving her pennies so she can reach her dream of opening up a restaurant. 

But it's a Disney movie, you say, where's the magic in that? That's exactly the point. Tiana did so much right, trying to stay positive even when she was tired, just like her father taught her to do. But along the way, all her hard work was leaving something out. Her father kept on a smile for her; this shows that our relationships with other people are important, more important than all of these goals we set up for ourselves. Of course, the goals are important and we should work on those. But not at the expense of finding reasons to smile. Tiana never goes out with her friends. She just works. This is why her relationship with Naveen works out so well. Naveen shows her not to forget about the magic.

Naveen is the opposite of Tiana: he seeks entertainment all day and has no idea what work is. The theme is not entirely unlike that of Chocolat (more the book than the movie): the contrast between asceticism and hedonism and the question of how it is possible to balance them. Naveen reminds Tiana that she can smile and not just because she's trying to be positive but because she wants to smile and have fun and enjoy a moment just for the moment's sake. Tiana, in turn, reminds Naveen that these moments of joy or pleasure only truly matter if you have done your part to earn them. So it's nice that this Disney relationship truly tries to have each character offer something to the other; they don't just fall in love, they complement each other. It's that concept of don't ask what you can get from a relationship, ask what you can give to it.

Add to that Anika Noni Rose's fabulous voice and Tiana is a terrific character. I prefer the less pop-sounding music in animated films, so while I'm not overly fond of Randy Newman and some of the music in this movie, I do really like Tiana's singing voice (actually, I guess I do like most of the music now). She sounds elegant and classy (as compared with the pre-teen pop sound of Rapunzel's voice, but I'm getting ahead of myself). 

Tiana is a character who stands utterly independent. She speaks for herself, she makes decisions for herself, she works for herself and her dreams, and she always takes charge of a situation. She's always positive and kind to the people around her because she knows that this is a part of achievement. She's patient and diligent. And yet she's not perfect or designed as perfect (like Snow White and Cinderella). I genuinely want to learn from Tiana, and for that she receives high marks in this analysis series.