Reviewing - The Disney Renaissance (1989-1999)
The release of "The Little Mermaid" sent Disney skyrocketing into a new era of filmmaking. Characterized by stunning animation, unforgettable music, and timeless stories, the 90s were a period of unrivalled success for the animation studio. Combining the best of traditional animation with the onset of new innovations made possible through CGI, these films reinvigorated the company and brought Disney to a new generation of families. Looking back, it's hard to believe how many back-to-back hits they pulled off. Millenials, welcome back to your childhood.
The Little Mermaid (****1/2)
In which a king fully endorses his daughter's decision to marry a man guilty of participating in the systemic genocide of the king's subjects
The drought is over - this is Disney’s best film in nearly forty years.
The last Disney film that I gave four-and-a-half stars to was Peter Pan, which was released in 1953. Since then, there have been plenty of good Disney movies (Lady and the Tramp, The Jungle Book, Winnie the Pooh), but nothing that knocked it out of the park in the way that Disney’s greatest films have. When I sat down to watch this with Jenna, I was floored at how far Disney had come. Just a few days before I had watched Oliver & Company. It’s hard to believe that they went from talking pets in 1980s New York City to a musical about a mermaid who falls in love with a prince. This is the kind of Disney movie we’re supposed to be getting! This is the Disney we’ve been waiting for!
My appreciation for the animation in this film skyrocketed after watching it this time. As a kid, I watched The Little Mermaid about as often as I watched the other Renaissance films – and of those films, The Little Mermaid is actually a bit less magnificent in terms of colouring and design. If you look at something like Beauty and the Beast, the shading on characters is really marvellous. The technology used for that wasn’t in use yet at the time of The Little Mermaid. As a result, I used to think that The Little Mermaid was the least good-looking film of the period.
But now? I mean, man, this film is beautiful – ESPECIALLY when you compare it to Oliver & Company. From the opening seconds, we get everything that makes a great Disney film. Triumphant music plays as a swirling ocean comes into view, and then a majestic galleon sails onscreen. It’s a world of fantasy – a place we could never get to on our own. There are so many shots in this movie that are show-stoppers, like the bit where Ariel is watching fireworks explode over the ocean as they’re launched into the sky from Prince Eric’s ship. Wow. And Ursula’s transformation in the final act? It’s just insane. She’s terrifying and shudderingly huge. It’s a scale of filmmaking that Disney hasn’t attempted in so long. I remember saying that many shots of Lady and the Tramp could be paintings, and the same is true here. There’s so many shots and sequences that are just a visual marvel. It’s stunning.
Then there’s the music to contend with, and again, we haven’t had music this great in decades. Sure, every now and then we’ve gotten a “Bare Necessities” or a “Bella Notte”, but this movie is PACKED with hits. Under The Sea, Part Of Your World, Poor Unfortunate Souls...even the French guy’s song is a blast! Alan Menken’s score is triumphant and magical. Listen to “Main Titles” from the 2014 re-release of his score for a taste.
At the end of the day, it’s all about the story – and Disney does not disappoint. To start, they’re getting back to their roots in adapting a well-known fairy tale. Secondly, they’re infusing it with new life by making it about prejudice and father-daughter relationships. King Triton doesn’t trust humans because they eat fish – which, realistically, is a totally valid complaint for a mermaid to have. Because of that, he forbids Ariel to do anything that has to do with humans. But of course, Ariel’s a teenager, so when her Dad says “No”, that basically means she has to do it. Triton comes across as a bit cruel in the first half of this movie, but you can see that he’s ultimately doing it out of a desire to protect his daughter. If your kid was dating someone that you considered to be a genocidal maniac, you’d probably flip out too. But in the end, Triton figures out that he’s gotta let Ariel make her own choices – and that maybe these humans aren’t so bad after all.
The only reason I can’t give this movie a perfect score is because I’ve got a bone to pick with Ariel. She starts off as a bit of a brat. She’s rebellious and doesn’t care what her Dad thinks. That’s fine – it’s the beginning of the movie. Maybe by the end it’ll get fixed, right? Nope. By the end of the movie, Ariel has gotten her way – and it’s really not because of anything she did. Remember, Ariel sold her voice to a sea witch. She failed to uphold her end of the bargain and get a kiss of true love in three days (and yeah, Ursula cheated, but still), and it wasn’t Ariel who defeated Ursula in the end. Eric killed Ursula, and Triton gave himself up to save Ariel. In the end, Triton is the one who gives Ariel what she wants, turning her into a human again. My point is that Ariel didn’t really change or develop as a character. She didn’t ever learn why her Dad was trying to protect her. We don’t get any real moment of resolution where her and her Dad come to terms with what has happened. Sure, he turns her into a human and they have a nice little hug, but there’s never a moment where Ariel says, “Hey Dad, really sorry for going to a sea witch,” OR where Triton says “Hey sweetheart, sorry for breaking your stuff. I guess these humans are okay.” I guess you could say that all of that is subtext in the final minutes of the film, but I think I would’ve preferred a bit more resolution with regards to that particular story arc.
Realistically, though, that’s a small gripe compared to how terrific I think this film is. It’s stunning animation, brilliant music, wonderful characters, and a compelling story. This is a return to form for Disney. It’s the dawn of a new age of storytelling. Disney is back, baby!
The Rescuers Down Under (**1/2)
In which Disney thinks we care more about mice than a mythical golden eagle
Visually, it’s fantastic. Story-wise, it’s totally forgettable.
I watched this for the first time in 2020 right after re-watching the original Rescuers as part of my quest to watch through the entire Disney Animated library. I’ve really been looking forward to getting into the Disney Renaissance, the era of animation which is – in my mind, anyway – unparalleled in terms of beauty, complexity, and character. This was a little snapshot for me of what’s to come, as this film was Disney’s first to utilize CAPS (but we’ll talk about that when I actually get to the Renaissance). Without getting ahead of myself, I’ll say that the animation style of this film was conclusively better than that of the original. The characters and crisp, detailed, and the shading and colouring makes them pop off the screen. Man, I need to save my gushing for later. I love this animation style.
It’s so odd to me that of all the films Disney decided to make a theatrical sequel to, they picked The Rescuers. Sure, the original film made money (although for the life of me, I can’t understand why). But why not make a sequel to Snow White, Cinderella, Peter Pan, or any of the other hits that made Disney what it was? Maybe what I’m about to say wasn’t true in at the dawn of the 90s, but nobody thinks of the Rescuers when they think of Disney. They think of the Renaissance films (there I go again), or Frozen, or those original princess flicks. The Rescuers just don’t have the iconic charm that their fellow Disney stars do.
Regardless of their reasons, here we are with Disney’s first theatrical sequel. And while there are parts that I liked, there’s just nothing about this film that gives it reason to last. Our two main mice have nothing really to make their relationship that interesting. It’s slightly better than last time because at least now there’s a mild love triangle going on, but we all know without a doubt that our two heroes are going to end up together in the end. The villain is two-dimensional and uninteresting, having neither the charisma or gravitas to earn him a place among Disney’s pantheon of classic antagonists. The young boy is cute enough, but there’s nothing really to him apart from the fact that he’s just a sweet innocent kid, just like the girl from the last movie. There’s plenty of ‘action’ in this film, but there are virtually no scenes where any character undergoes any sort of character development. I can think of one moment where Bernard shows a glimmer of growth, but that’s it. By the end of the film, everyone is who they were at the beginning. That’s not great.
I think this movie had the INGREDIENTS for a great story – they just never used them. The relationship between the young boy and Marahute (the giant golden eagle) was probably the most emotionally significant one in the film. And that opening scene where the two of them flew together was nothing short of exhilarating. It’s How To Train Your Dragon, except 20 years early. The animated sequence where the young boy rides this eagle through the clouds is beautiful, vibrant, and energetic. It’s the kind of sequence that CAPS made possible – but I can’t get into that. My point is this. Why not forget about the mice and focus on the relationship between this mythical bird and his wide-eyed boy? You could’ve done so much with them learning how to co-exist and how to respect each other despite their differences. It would’ve been a great way to really hammer home the theme that I think this film was going for – the idea that we need to respect nature and protect it so that all generations can enjoy it. Forget about the mice! Give me more Marahute!
I’m going to make a strange recommendation. Watch the first ten minutes of this film and the last five minutes, and skip the rest. Marahute rocks, but the rest of this movie is thoroughly skippable.
Beauty and the Beast (*****)
In which a young man with excessive hair is horrified to learn that a young woman he likes has discovered his secret flower room
A masterpiece from start to finish, Beauty and the Beast shows us Disney at its finest.
Disney’s next film after The Little Mermaid was The Rescuers Down Under, which was basically unremarkable except for the fact that it was the first Disney film to fully use the CAPS system. Essentially, the CAPS system is what makes Disney Renaissance films so much brighter and sharper than their predecessors. It’s a fusion of modern technology with traditional animation, allowing animators to fill their pencilling with vibrant colours and beautiful shading with relative ease. Beauty and the Beast was the second Disney film to use CAPS, and it’s clear from the opening song ‘Belle’ how big of a deal this is. Belle’s little town is bright and clear – gone are the scratchy sketches of 101 Dalmatians and the darker aesthetic of The Rescuers. Belle herself pops off of the screen thanks to the shading, and her movements are fluid and lifelike. Without gushing too much about it, it’s just a beautiful sequence. And that’s only the first scene.
Everyone remembers the ballroom scene from this movie – probably even the people who haven’t even seen the whole film. It’s an absolutely iconic moment of cinema, when Belle and the Beast dance in this grand, majestic space like they’re the only two people in the world. What makes this scene so revolutionary has to do once again with the blending of traditional animation with modern techniques. There’s a shot that starts at the ceiling of the ballroom, looking down on the dancers. Then the camera gracefully swoops down until it’s right next to them, where it continues to dip and spin around them like it’s part of the dance. A shot like that would’ve been impossible in years past. You’ll never find such a dynamic shot in Disney’s earlier works. This shot was only possible because the ballroom itself was CGI and the characters were traditionally animated. Mixing the two forms together was what made this scene happen, and it’s absolutely stunning.
Even silently, the movie would be a marvel to watch. But you can’t talk about this film without talking about the music. Alan Menken, the mastermind behind the music for The Little Mermaid, returned to give us a smorgasbord of hits. Be Our Guest is an absolute showstopper, and Gaston’s self-titled song is a riotous good time. It’s the music that really makes this period of Disney history earn the term ‘renaissance’, because it’s not just the fact that Disney’s films started looking better or having better stories. Their musicality skyrocketed, giving us films that didn’t just have one hit. Each of these next few movies have multiple knock-em-dead songs. And while we’re talking about the music, I have to mention ‘Human Again’. It’s a deleted song from the movie, but they fully animated the sequence and included it in some re-releases of the film. Currently it’s not on Disney+, which is a crime, but you can find the sequence on YouTube. We’re all familiar with deleted scenes, but this scene is so spectacular it’s a shock they couldn’t find a way to keep it in the film.
Whenever I find people talking about this fairy tale, the term “Stockholm Syndrome” comes up more often than not. Basically, it’s a psychological condition where a captive develops a strong emotional bond with their captor, despite the fact that the captor is holding them hostage. It makes sense that people would apply this term to the basis of the story in Beauty and the Beast – Belle falls in love with a big ugly monster who has essentially kidnapped her. Even if this isn’t an example of Stockholm Syndrome, there’s a lot to be said for the kind of unhealthy romantic relationship that Belle and the Beast have. After all, the Beast roars at Belle, locks her in confined spaces, and smashes stuff in her presence. Domestic abuse is all too real a thing, and there are far too many women in relationships with horrible men. The whole concept of a ‘project partner’ or a romantic interest who you intend to ‘fix’ or change comes out of this kind of relationship. Sometimes we stay with the wrong person because we believe we can change them. Unfortunately, this rarely works, and it keeps us in a dangerous place. In the same way, Belle’s romantic interest really doesn’t start off as that great of a guy. In that sense, it’s kind of hard to root for the two of them coming together.
What keeps this story afloat is the way they choose to represent the Beast. The Beast doesn’t actually have that much screen time where he’s being a certifiable jerk. The taking of Maurice is a rough bit, sure, but it’s the catalyst for the rest of the film. When the Beast demands Belle to come to dinner, the scene takes a comical turn to take the edge off of what could be a fairly terrifying sequence. When the Beast roars at Belle for having entered the West Wing, the audience can take comfort in the fact that Belle shouldn’t have gone in there in the first place – AND that the Beast’s fierce defense of the rose is almost justified. Instead of the Beast’s roughness, the film focuses on his attempts to soften himself up. We see the Beast saving Belle from wolves, getting a haircut, learning to be kind, and giving her a romantic candle-lit dinner and dance. It’s these images that help us – and Belle – fall in love with him. Without them, the romance really falls apart and becomes positively dangerous.
The sheer magnificence of this film is that it’s excellent on so many levels. It looks amazing, it sounds incredible, and the story is heartfelt, dramatic, and poignant. It’s a classic not only of nineties cinema, but of the movie-going experience as a whole. Don’t miss this one.
Aladdin (****1/2)
In which a street rat willingly unleashes a supreme deity upon the earth, only to have the being travel to Disneyland
Disney hits another home run with stellar visuals, great music, and an iconic performance from Robin Williams.
It’s hard to believe how much of a winning streak Disney achieved in this time period. If we forget about The Rescuers Down Under (and we do), Disney is on its third straight mega-hit with Aladdin. Alan Menken - the mastermind behind the music of their last two hits – returns to give us memorable classics like “Friend Like Me”, “Prince Ali”, and the iconic “A Whole New World”. The animation is just as incredible as its predecessors have been, taking us to the exotic world of Agrabah and its desert landscape.
But let’s be honest. It’s not the animation or music that people remember most about this movie. It’s all about the Genie. Honestly, getting Robin Williams into an animated Disney film was an unbelievably perfect decision. Animation allows you to bring the impossible to life, and Robin Williams jumps from caricature to caricature at a speed so insane that only animation like this can keep up. The Genie is a Saturday morning cartoon on steroids. He infuses the story with life and energy, and though some of his references admittedly go over my head, his comedic timing and intonation is nothing short of hysterical. He’s a blast.
The other character who steals the spotlight for me is Iago, voiced by Gilbert Gottfried. He’s got one of those irreplaceable voices, so shrill and ill-tempered that he was the perfect pick for a cranky parrot henchman. That’s not to say that the other characters weren’t good. It’s just hard to compete with characters with such massive on-screen presence.
The story of Aladdin learning the value of telling the truth is one that we as adults should definitely get behind. This is the kind of story I want my kids to watch, because the message underneath is a good one. That said, there’s a sequence in this film that hasn’t aged particularly well. When Jafar wishes for Jasmine to fall in love with him, Jasmine goes along with it as part of a ruse to buy Aladdin more time. Already dressed in an unarguably provocative outfit, Jasmine now saunters towards Jafar and ultimately plants a kiss on him. Now I imagine that a small number of people might want to twist this scene into an example of female empowerment, i.e. “She’s using what she has to get things done”. But at the end of the day, I think this is a bit of a humiliating sequence for her character. Think of Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi. Would you put Luke or Han in the same kind of outfit she had to wear? Because if not, there’s something wrong with your scene. Jasmine finds herself having to give in to the lustful desires of a sincerely creepy guy in order to get what she wants – and it doesn’t even work out for her in the short term. This isn’t the kind of princess we want our kids to model themselves after.
I don’t want to throw Jasmine out the window – it was just that one scene I had an issue with. Other than that, she was a strong character who resisted (at least to some extent) the traditional role she found herself in. Aladdin, too, has some good characteristics kids can take away. He learns the value of honesty, and that’s a lesson we’re never too old to learn.
While not necessarily one of my favourite films in the Disney Renaissance, I can’t deny the caliber of the presentation. It’s another classic that will be remembered for generations.
The Lion King 1994 (*****)
In which a spoiled kid accidentally gets his dad killed and then comes back a few years later to kill his uncle too
A brilliant, massive yellow sun surfaces over a deep red horizon, its light shimmering through the heat of the Serengeti. From the silence bursts a mythic Zulu cry – a lone voice heralding the dawn of a new day. Within moments, the voice is joined by a chorus of additional singers, their voices harmonizing in a deeply resonant chord. It is morning, and the animals of these African plains arise with purpose.
The new King has been born.
The Lion King is my favourite movie, and I also whole-heartedly believe it's the greatest film ever made. I've already reviewed it here on my blog - and I have a million and one things to say about it. I'll give you the short version so we can move on.
• The voice actors infuse the story with charisma and depth – and perfectly perform the characters to which they were assigned.
• Though The Lion King is a traditionally animated film, the filmmakers integrated complex live-action cinematographic techniques to great effect.
• The Lion King is a stunning blend of traditional animation and CGI, taking the best of both to deliver the story with astounding efficacy.
• Those who label this as a “kid’s movie” have tragically missed so much of the symbolism and multilayered imagery that Disney’s animators painstakingly wove into the movie.
• The award-winning music of The Lion King does more than set a mood or get you tapping your toes – it develops and enhances the themes and ideas of the film like a second storyteller.
• The Lion King presents a morally edifying story that tackles themes most ‘kid movies’ would run from, from self-sacrifice to spirituality.
Pocahontas (****1/2)
In which a First Nations woman believes a white guy who says he doesn't want any trouble
With a message still socially relevant after twenty-five years, Pocahontas ticks all the boxes despite being one of the Renaissance period’s less-favourite pictures.
To be honest, I’m shocked with the score that this film received on Rotten Tomatoes. Virtually everyone knows that the site isn’t perfect, and you’re bound to disagree with some the scores they’ve given great films. I just thought this would be the kind of movie that critics would fall head-over-heels in love with. The animation is beautiful even if it’s a half-step down from the likes of The Lion King or Beauty and the Beast. The music is excellent, ranging from the fun and boisterous “Mine, Mine, Mine” to the sobering social critique “Savages”. But most importantly, the story is compelling. In a sense, it’s a story about the losing side. We’re watching Europeans come face to face with a culture that they will virtually annihilate. The entire way of life of Pocahontas’ people is officially on its way out with their arrival. We can talk a big talk about how Western society has worked hard to right the wrongs that have been done to First Nations people, but you don’t need to look far to see how even hundreds of years later, Pocahontas’ people are still being horribly mistreated. In my own country, there are First Nations people who do not have access to clean drinking water. This movie is in many ways about the beginning of the end.
Many have pointed out the historical inaccuracies of the film, but I’m honestly fine with that. Their goal wasn’t necessarily to tell the truth, but to tell a story that would move us. And I think they succeeded. We got to see a movie where the Europeans are clearly in the wrong. Take this exchange from the movie’s villain and his henchman:
Ratcliffe: Why do you think those insolent heathens attacked us?
Wiggins: Because we invaded their land and cut down their trees and dug up their earth?
This movie does not hesitate to admit that the Europeans standing in for all of Western colonialists have some pretty messed up pre-conceived notions about what North American and its inhabitants are like. And I love how it goes to great lengths to drive the point home that the white people just don’t get it. I’m probably taking it a step too far here, but if you feel like the movie’s message is obsolete or misguided, you probably haven’t learned the message yet. We still treat First Nations people like they’re ‘savages’ – like their ways are strange and foreign and therefore must be changed. We’ve come a long way, sure, but there is so much discrimination and degradation that First Nations people still go through. Think of the pipeline crisis that was going on in Canada just before the coronavirus pandemic broke out.
More than trying to show us the true story of Pocahontas, this movie sought to show us the feelings and mindsets of those who lived during this pivotal time in history. To that end, I loved what this movie set out to do. Further, the romance between Pocahontas and John Smith was what provided a solution to the tension of the story. As inaccurate as it may have been, it provided a way for the First Nations people and the European colonists to make peace (at least for a while). What was especially cool was how they decided to resolve this romance. There aren’t many stories like this where the girl and the guy don’t end up together – especially where the girl willingly chooses not to end up with the guy despite her love for him. Pocahontas chooses duty over desire. Although I admit that I don’t think they gave a lot of explanation for why this decision was logical, I still want to applaud the decision. And yeah, I also don’t understand why John Smith needs to endure a four month trip back to England to get patched up instead of just getting some help from the First Nation people. I mean, if you’ve got a gunshot wound that’s serious enough to need medical attention, can you really afford to wait four months?
The thing that I find most complicating about this movie is the romance element, as much as I enjoyed it. In many ways, this is an all-too-typical Euro-centric love story. The “White Savior” narrative usually shows us a white guy who finds someone different from him, and he goes on to essentially rescue them from their own culture. Now, John Smith doesn’t quite do that here. In fact, Pocahontas is a very independent and self-motivating character. She makes her own decisions, keeps a level head, and doesn’t turn into a damsel in distress whenever Smith is around. But it’s just a bit hard to swallow the pill of these two star-crossed lovers forming a romantic bond, because real life is so dramatically different from how this played out. Europeans and First Nations didn’t fall in love and make peace. They fought and bled and died, and so many First Nations people were systematically targeted and exterminated. It’s not pretty. It’s not a Disney movie.
All the same, this film launches the conversation, and that’s a big deal. We don’t talk enough about the treatment of First Nations peoples, and Disney gave us a visually stunning and musically excellent opportunity to do so. It may not be a film we love, but I really believe it’s a film we need.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame (****1/2)
In which a corrupt religious official expresses his dark sexual desire for a foreign immigrant in song - and also there are cute gargoyles
Wow. I can't believe this movie exists.
Disney has a reputation for family-focused entertainment. It's well-earned, but an unfortunate byproduct of such a reputation is the assumption that their stories are safe, childish, or unambitious. It's this latter belief that is totally misguided, as I've seen time and time again during my watch-through of Disney's animated library. Disney's pushed the boundaries of animation ever since they opened up shop with Snow White. Not only that, they've challenged the idea of what kind of stories families need to watch. The year before Hunchback, for example, they gave us a story about the persecution of First Nations peoples with Pocahontas. The Fox and the Hound looked at systemic racism and how we're supposed to deal with it. The Jungle Book told us that it's not healthy to keep kids from growing up. Disney's famous for their princess movies, sure. But they have much more to say than that.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame is about religious corruption, racism, lust, and the nature of ugliness. It's surprisingly mature and multilayered. Kids will pick up on the big ideas of the movie, but there's so much between the lines for parents to pick up on. It's ambitious and boundary-breaking. I can't believe that Disney approved half the things that ended up in this movie, although I'm so glad that they did.
Let’s talk about the animation and music really quick so that we can get into the story, which is the most impressive part of the film. The visuals are utterly flawless from beginning to end. Like so many Disney classics that came before it, there are at least a dozen shots so beautiful they could be paintings. The animators made Paris come alive, casting the most spotlight on Notre Dame herself. Every shot of the iconic structure is stunning, and they show us the building from so many angles to highlight her exquisite beauty. It was very neat seeing how they used CGI to fill Paris with citizens, in much the same way (I imagine) as they filled The Lion King’s gorge with stampeding wildebeest just three years earlier. The music doesn’t quite match up to the level of excellence found in the animation, but for the most part it’s still fantastic. “The Bells of Notre Dame” and “Heaven’s Light / Hellfire” are the best tracks in the movie, as their motifs repeat throughout the film to great dramatic effect. Most of the other songs are fairly forgettable, but they’re not strictly speaking terrible. Even if they were, the animation alone would probably make up for it.
Judge Claude Frollo is a Disney villain unlike any other. There’s so much to him that it’s hard to figure out where to start. I suppose his religion is the biggest aspect of his character, and it’s interesting how religion as a whole is presented through him. Generally, I find films present one perspective at a time on religion. One movie might cast faith in a positive light, while another movie ridicules religion. You don’t often get both at the same time. Take “The Shack” and “The Invention of Lying” as examples. Both of them view religion very differently, and they don’t do much to highlight ‘the other side’. But here, religion is given two faces – or at least two, anyway. One is the archdeacon of Notre Dame, a kind and loving man who works to serve the persecuted and stand for justice. The other is Frollo, a pharisee in every sense of the word. The film sums him up perfectly when Clopin sings that Frollo “saw corruption everywhere, except within”. He’s a member of the religious elite – concerned with ridding the world of anyone he deems unholy. He’s exactly the kind of Christian that has become infamous: the self-righteous, hypocritical, holier-than-thou authoritarian conservative uptight privileged bourgeoise hyper-spiritual man. He’s everything that’s wrong with religion. And if he were the only Christian or example of faith in the film, this movie would pretty clearly be anti-religion. But it’s not that simple. We’ve got the archdeacon I previously mentioned, and Esmeralda sings her “God Help The Outcasts” song that shows a more humble and simple faith. In fact, it seems like God himself steps in at the climax of the film. Frollo is about to kill our heroes, and as he stands on the edge of Notre Dame, he declares, “And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit”. It sounds like it should be a Bible verse, but I couldn’t find anything that said this line exactly. Anyway, at that exact moment, Frollo’s footing collapses underneath him. He grabs a gargoyle for support, only to have the gargoyle’s eyes and mouth blaze by fire before cracking completely – and plunging Frollo into a fiery pit. It seems fairly obvious to me that this is meant to be an act of God; just like Frollo declared, God has smitten (smote? smited?) the wicked and plunged them into fire. It’s a supernatural recognition that Frollo is the evil one. Didn’t expect to see that in a Disney flick, did you?
It doesn’t stop there. “Hellfire” is an insane sequence, where Frollo struggles in song with his lust for Esmeralda. Honestly, I could write a whole paper on this one song. Frollo needs to see himself as pure and righteous, which is why this lust within him is so difficult to deal with. “This fire in my skin, this burning desire is turning me to sin”, he sings. He can’t cope with even admitting that he’s struggling. His guilt is weighing on him so heavily that he imagines a horde of red-hooded accusers staring down at him. What he does next is so interesting: he does the same thing that Adam and Eve did when God confronted them about eating the forbidden fruit.
“It’s not my fault,” Frollo sings. He blames Esmeralda for being a witch that has poisoned his mind. He blames God for putting this insurmountable temptation in his way. It can’t be his own fault that he’s lusting after her. It must be something else – anything else.
Frollo ends his song by basically saying that Esmeralda must either die or choose to be with him romantically. He’s villainized the very thing he desires, because to admit his desire for her is to admit an imperfection in his own soul. In giving her the option to choose him instead of being executed, he can reason within his mind that it is his mercy and innate goodness that is the cause of the two of them ending up together. He’s so blinded by his own need for self-righteousness that he cannot see his own true purposes. Wow!
I could talk much longer about Frollo, but with the time I have left, I’ll touch on Quasimodo’s gargoyle friends and the treatment of ugliness in the movie. I’ve seen other reviews that mention the tonal inconsistency of Hunchback. I think there’s definitely ground to stand on there. We fly from torture chambers to singing cartoon gargoyles to families locked in burning homes to more singing cartoon gargoyles. The gargoyles are really the only culprits of being out of place here. They’re silly and whimsical in an otherwise heavy and solemn movie. Obviously they’re here to help the kids have a good time, but there’s no question that they can come across as a bit jarring from time to time because of how much they don’t fit within the world of the film. That said, their individual segments aren’t bad.
This movie really focuses on ugliness, or rather, other-ness. Quasimodo suffers a really terrible humiliation early on in the film at the Festival of Fools. It’s a rare example of true, abject cruelty in a Disney film. People are insulting him, tying him down, and throwing vegetables at him just because he’s different. It’s a monstrous scene, but it’s what the whole movie is about. Frollo can’t stand the gypsies because they operate outside of his rules and regulations. They’re different from him. By the end of the movie, the gypsies are embraced by Paris, and Quasimodo is accepted as well. It turns out that true ugliness is not other-ness, but the refusal to accept other-ness. True ugliness is the absence of love.
This movie really made me think, and it has a lot to say to parents and children alike. Sure, it’s a bit heavy – and a bit tonally inconsistent in a few parts – but it goes where few animated films dare to go. It gets real, and because of that I have to declare it one of my favourite Disney films of all time.
Hercules (*****)
In which we learn the importance of merchandising in standard hero life
Hilarious, heartfelt, and heroic, Hercules hits another home run for Disney animation.
It’s been years since I’ve watched this film, and in re-watching it I remember how much I viewed life through a Herculean lens as a boy. In a time before the MCU, Hercules showed me what it meant to be a hero. He was honest, hardworking, brave, and constantly trying to prove himself. I now see that my subconscious understanding of what it meant to be a good man was heavily influenced by this film. I wanted to be like Hercules as a kid. I wanted people to love me, but more importantly, I wanted my parents to see the “great deeds” I’d done. I judged my own goodness by comparing myself to him. Was I caring like him? Was I popular like him? Did I look good doing the right thing?
Like Hercules, I was more concerned with greatness than goodness as a kid. Hercules didn’t want to be a hero because he wanted to do the right thing; he wanted to be a hero because he wanted to please his father. In the same way, I didn’t want to be good for goodness’ sake - I wanted to be good to win the admiration of others. I craved that recognition. I probably still do. But this movie teaches a lesson that I didn’t quite pick up on as a kid. It is far better to be good than great.
The movie explains it by saying “A hero is not measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart.” What they’re getting at is that it doesn’t matter what deeds you do or how great you look doing them. What matters is the heart behind your actions. The Bible puts it this way: Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord and not for men. If I do great deeds and write reviews that everyone reads and release creations that everyone loves, that’s fine, but if I’m just doing it for the admiration of others, my actions and deeds are empty. Instead, I should strive to love people. I should strive to be a good man instead of a great man - because in goodness we find a greatness that no gallant deed or mighty victory can surpass. Hercules tried to teach me this as a kid, but I got a bit caught up with the fame and fortune stuff just like he did. I know now the lesson he teaches - and I’m so thankful that I had a movie like this as a kid.
Enough of the solemn personal reflection. Let’s talk about the brilliance of this movie. Like the Disney movies before it, the colours, shading, and character design are all fantastic. The way the gods glow is really neat, and Hades’ flaming hair is iconic. I loved the CGI integration as well, particularly in the scene with the Hydra where Hercules fights a multi-headed monster. It’s seamless the way our traditionally-animated hero does battle with a monster of the modern era, and I’ve never forgotten it. The way the animators brought Ancient Greece to life was just incredible, with stunning settings like Olympus, the Underworld, or Thebes.
This was also the funniest Disney film since Aladdin. Hades is dripping with charisma, and his fiery rage moments are just the best. Pain and Panic are your standard incompetent henchmen, but they riff off of each other excellently. They’re responsible for some of the funniest lines of the movie, like “Somebody call IX-I-I” or “Remember that year when the boys were all named Jason and the girls were all named Brittany?!”. They’re so funny. Danny Devito gives a 100% Danny Devito performance as Phil, who is admittedly a bit improper for today’s audience. His girl-crazy antics are a bit squeamish, but it’s done in a way that minimizes the creepiness and makes him come across more as just a bit of a loser. Pegasus has a few good bits as well - the animators took every opportunity to stretch the limits of what a winged horse can do, and it’s really entertaining to see what they come up with. And of course, Meg steals the show in virtually every scene she’s in. She’s brilliantly witty and sarcastic, sauntering through every setting as cool as a cucumber. She’s one of the funniest female characters Disney’s ever created.
I can’t forget to talk about the music. Whoever sat down at the storyboard meetings and said “What if the music was gospel-style? You know, cause it’s a movie about gods?” deserves all the money. Not only is it funny to have gospel-inspired songs about Ancient Greek gods, but it’s done so well. “The Gospel Truth” and “Zero To Hero” stand out as the musical highlights of the film, and the Muses are so filled with energy that they’re anything but a distraction from the main plot. For characters wholly independent from the narrative, they bring so much to the table. “Go The Distance” is the most emotionally significant song in the film, and I feel the weight of it every time I hear it. Meg’s song “I Won’t Say I’m In Love” is also catchy as heck. It’s poppy and loud and probably the most fun love song Disney’s done.
Sure, this doesn’t have the dramatic weight of Hunchback or Beauty and the Beast, but everything they set out to do here, they did excellently. It made me laugh (a lot), it made me cry, the music and animation was top-notch, and the story is one that kids and adults alike can get a lot out of. Hercules is just one more Disney hit that went the distance - it deserves a spot in the pantheon of Disney classics.
Mulan (***1/2)
In which a determined leader helplessly watches a young woman ruthlessly murder thousands of his followers before his very eyes
While not the highest peak of the Disney Renaissance, Mulan is a thrilling story with emotion, ambition, and more great music.
I want to get the bad news out of the way first so that we can focus on the good. The thing that I noticed about Mulan was that they really didn’t take the time to shade in the way that they had in the past. Shading hasn’t been in every single shot of the Disney Renaissance, but I’d say that it’s one of the defining features of the era. Darkening the edges of an animated character really makes them stand out from the background and just makes the whole thing look better. Some films used it more than others, but this is the first film since “The Little Mermaid” (which didn’t use the CAPS system and therefore couldn’t shade the same way) that pretty much didn’t have it at all. That’s not to say that the animation was bad. It’s just that it felt like they could have taken that extra step and they elected not too. I was a little disappointed by that.
On the other hand, this film has one of the coolest animated sequences that Disney’s made yet. I’ve talked before about how they experimented a lot with integrating CGI into traditional animation, and the mountain battle with the Huns is a triumphant example of this. It’s an action-packed sequence with high stakes and real tension, and every single shot of the Hun army pouring down the mountainside is just staggering. There’s one shot in particular where an eagle swoops over the impending horde that’s positively majestic. It’s like something out of The Lord of the Rings. Mulan may be a Disney Princess, but this is a scene that millions of boys will have no trouble getting behind.
Although not as musical as some of its predecessors, Mulan still has a number of banging hits – “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You” perhaps the most memorable. “Reflection” and “Honour To Us All” are good too, but after hearing “A Girl Worth Fighting For”, that’s it in terms of music. In comparison, Hercules had 6 songs, Hunchback had 7, and so did Pocahontas. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s just hard for Mulan to compete with the likes of “Be Our Guest” or “Circle of Life”.
The story was great. Mulan’s father is a terrific character and the catalyst for action. When he is called to fight, the way he steps up to accept the call is almost tear-jerking. He’s a good man, and his love for his family is always evident. His last scene when Mulan comes home is particularly poignant, feeling a bit like “The Prodigal Son” with a slight twist. Because of him, Mulan’s motivation is always clear and strong. Who wouldn’t want to sacrifice themselves to save this guy? He’s a hero. But what’s great about Mulan is that she doesn’t just end up saving her father – she ends up proving herself as well. The way she earns the respect and admiration of the men in the army is so much fun to watch. In an era when gender roles are now hotly debated to the point where it’s not even clear if gender is a thing at all, this film touches on the subject without going to an extreme in either direction. Mulan is not forced to go back to a life of femininity, as the Emperor makes it clear to all that what she has done is game-changing. Neither are the men in the film humiliated or challenged for their understanding of masculinity. The men keep on being men, albeit with a newfound understanding for what women are capable of. The scene where the men dress in drag in order to sneak into the palace was one that really made me wonder how different this film might be if it were released today. Here, it’s played for a laugh, but also to show that the men are on board with following orders from a girl. If the movie were made today, I wonder if the filmmakers would use the opportunity to talk more about gender fluidity and whether any of the men end up more comfortable in their new skin. Now, admittedly the live action remake is coming up later this year, but based on the trailers I think they’ll be leaving much of the comical aspects of the original behind – so I doubt we’ll see a scene like this in it.
Mulan could be called paradoxical in that it’s simultaneously a girl-power flick and a masculinity-affirming flick. Neither gender is the villain, and the movie ends with a cultural shift in understanding without tearing down the system that was in place at the start of the film. It’s a very interesting launch point for discussions on gender, but I’ll save a talk like that for another time.
Oh yeah, and Shan Yu is one of the most intimidating Disney villains yet. You don’t wanna be cooped up with that guy.
Tarzan (****)
In which a young woman and her father discover a feral man in the jungle and decide it's him and not them who've got this life thing figured out
Tarzan is one of the most visually ambitious pictures in the Disney Renaissance.
Within seconds of this movie starting, I noticed what a step up the animation had taken from Mulan. It’s not surprising given that the budget was increased by some 40 million dollars. Shading is back with a vengeance – I’m pretty sure every single shot in the film incorporated this technique. Beyond making all of the characters pop off of the screen, the use of shadows in the film was very cool. There were more than a few moments where characters were underneath the shadow of tree leaves, and pockets of light poked through on them. I loved that. But more than anything, the coolest part of the animation here was the tree-surfing. The camerawork (if you can call it that) is some of Disney’s most ambitious yet, weaving and whirling through the jungle as it follows Tarzan’s insane acrobatics. The “Son of Man” sequence has a particularly jaw-dropping shot that follows Tarzan on what can be likened to the famous ‘final swing’ that always ends a Spider-Man film. This movie is an absolute joy to watch.
I’ve heard a variety of perspectives on the music of this movie. Some love Phil Collins and the soundtrack he provided, while others think his contributions make the movie cheesy beyond belief. Personally, I think the direction they chose to take with the music was a novel decision, and successful in some ways while not so much on others. The advantage of having all the music be non-diegetic or outside of the world of the film (except for “Trashin’ The Camp”, of course) is that our characters get to stay somewhat grounded in reality. Sure, this is a movie about a guy who talks to apes, but the fact that Tarzan never bursts into song helps keep him kind of an enigma, just like he was in the book. We don’t get a look deep inside his mind, like we usually do when Disney characters sing out their heart’s desire in song. His motivations are still clear, but he’s more of a serious protagonist because he doesn’t sing. The other advantage is that Collins gets to serve as kind of an external narrator. He highlights themes of the film without the characters themselves having to say them out loud. Kerchak’s refusal to accept Tarzan, for instance, remains somber because we never get characters singing at him to change his mind. The dramatic tension remains. Now, sure, who’s to say that they couldn’t have pulled this off with singing characters after all, but I guess I’m just trying to say that I think the execution was more than competent. At the same time, Tarzan is the only film of the Renaissance that doesn’t have a track on any Disney playlist of mine. I think that’s because the soundtrack sounds like a 90s album and not like a movie soundtrack – for better or worse.
The story is fairly predictable, but it’s told well so you don’t mind. The character designs are really thrilling, from Sabor to Clayton to Professor Archimedes. They’re all fun to look at, because their design accentuates every fibre of their personality. Archimedes looks quirky and eccentric, just as Clayton looks intimidating and cunning. This is one of those films that you’d be able to follow perfectly even if the sound was turned off.
This movie may not share the cultural relevance or emotional significance of some of its predecessors, but it’s a thrill ride from start to finish. Only skip this if you can’t stand Phil Collins – there’s a lot of him in here.
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