Of Frogs, Princesses, and the Plight of the Disney Princes
So, one of the perks of being the parent to a small child is that you get a free excuse to do things you'd normally be considered "too old" to do as an adult. Like watching Disney movies. Now, Adrian's too young yet to be taken to a movie theatre (I figure, once he can sit quietly through something at home, then he can be trusted to sit quietly in public), but I did finally get "The Princess and the Frog" for him to watch.
For the record, it's adorable. It's also one of the more hotly-contested movies Disney's produced ever since "The Black Cauldron" (which is the ONLY Disney Animated Feature to garner a PG-13 rating upon its theatrical release. Guidelines have relaxed a little since then, so if you find it nowadays, you'll see it marked PG), and the most racially-contested film since "Pocahontas," mostly due to the hollering of the PC groups, since this is the first film to feature an African-American protagonist. At first, they screamed because the heroine was tentatively named "Maddy" (which amuses me, because Disney already HAS a female character named "Maddie," short for "Madeline," who's a poor girl working the candy counter on "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody"--except, of course, she's white and played by Ashley Tisdale), so they ended up naming her Tiana (and, as a side note, Disney has another Tiana as well--she's the aunt of Phineas and Candace on "Phineas and Ferb," and again is white--a redhead, as a matter-of-fact). That, and one of the sidekicks, Ray, is a Cajun, and there was again clamoring that he's too "stereotypical" in his portrayal. And then there was the issue of her profession (originally going to be a maid, and then finally a waitress who wants to own her own restaurant). And let's not forget the fact that, while the villain is black, the male love interest is not, making this the first interracial couple since the "Pocahontas" duology. In fact, I don't think anyone's quite sure what the hell ethnicity Naveen's supposed to be, considering he's got an Indian name, a Brazilian accent, and speaks a vaguely Romance-based language that I *think* is supposed to be something like Portuguese, but I don't know it well enough to confirm that.
"Princess and the Frog" is also the only truly modern one of the "fairytale" stories, in that it's set in Jazz Age New Orleans, rather than "vaguely medieval time period." Which is probably why our Heroine and Hero remain the only ones to still have day jobs when they get to Happily Ever After. Of course, being Disney, only certain aspects of the culture of the era and locale come through, which is how a rich white girl can apparently be BFFs with a poor black one. There is a little racial tension when a pair of white male realtors selling the property Tiana wants for her restaurant refer to her as "a little woman of your background [having] her hands full with a big business like that," but that's about the limit of it. Well, it IS Disney, after all.
The new villain is Dr. Facilier (or Shadow Man, as he's sometimes called), and he's a voodoo witch doctor of sorts--he sort of reminds me of a cross between Jafar from "Aladdin" and Hades from "Hercules," in that he's a smooth-talking, magic-wielding charmer sort. However, I do have mixed feelings about him, if only because his motives are remarkably unclear for a Disney villain with what appears to be a hostile-takeover scheme. His biggest goal seems to be becoming the puppetmaster, if you will, of the city of New Orleans. Disney themselves described it as "wanting to take over New Orleans," to which I had to wonder "JUST New Orleans? Why not Louisiana? The United States? The world? And isn't there an easier way to accomplish this besides voodoo?" However, he doesn't seem to want to be the one obviously in charge, but rather a behind-the-scenes manipulator, although it seems to somehow require killing off a rich, jovial fatcat of influence in New Orleans. Still, he seems to offer up his takeover of the city as a bargaining chip to his "friends on the other side," saying that they get all the wayward souls they want, if they'll just help him out one more time. Exactly what Facilier gets out of all this is never made clear, beyond "don't make the voodoo deities more annoyed with him," let alone why the heck it requires him targeting Naveen and his manservant Lawrence to be his pawns. At one point, it seems like he's in it just for money, but greed alone doesn't ring true for the sole motivation. Truthfully, I think what he's really seeking is respect, and seeks to do that by obtaining influence and wealth, but nothing's certain on that. The closest we get is him saying that he can't conjure anything for himself through voodoo, so he needs puppets of his own, but the question still remains why does he specifically need THOSE two? I realize that for the film's target audience (a.k.a. small children), he doesn't really need to have motivation beyond just "being the bad guy," and that the film is titled "The Princess and the Frog," not "The Voodoo Man of New Orleans," but still--there's a story here that never gets told and it feels incomplete to me.
Then there's Naveen himself, and he sort of straddles the line between being endearing and annoying, at least at first. In a lot of ways, I think he's the bastard lovechild of Emperor Kuzco and Lumiere. Interestingly enough, he's one of very few Disney protagonists to be a polyglot, speaking English, French and what I'm assuming is Maldonian (the weird made-up vaguely-Romance-based language he peppers his speech with--although he has one interjection that reminds me very strongly of watching "Pirates of Dark Water" as a kid). Also, he's one of very few Disney protagonists to not only have both parents, but a younger sibling (the vast majority of Disney protagonists, assuming family is mentioned at all, are only children and/or from single-parent households, with the absent parent typically deceased--even Tiana as an adult has lost her father in WWI). However, it was in my observation of Naveen that I came to realize something.
Disney has spent a great deal of energy marketing their Disney Princesses line to little girls, and Tiana is the newest face in the pantheon, which most famously includes the likes of Cinderella, Aurora, Belle, Jasmine, Ariel and Snow White, although some other various Disney heroines have managed to sneak in now and then, particularly during the early marketing phases (for instance, Mulan was briefly included at one point). Now, each Princess seems to be based on one of three major personality templates: "naive and crazy-for-the-prince" like Snow White, Aurora and Charlotte (the debutante from "Princess and the Frog," but she counts for at least a short time), "spunky and rebellious" like Jasmine and Ariel, and "intelligent and resourceful" like Belle and Tiana. However, each girl is a fully realized and fully-fleshed-out individual. But, with all this focus on the Princesses, it seems that Disney has overlooked something: the Disney Princes.
Now, to be clear, when I refer to the Disney Princes, I'm meaning the human (or close enough) Prince Regnants--that is, they're royalty of their own accord, rather than by who they marry. Not that there isn't something to be said about the Prince Consorts, but they're a rarer breed (really, I can only think of four from the human sector, most famously Aladdin, but also Taran from "Black Cauldron," Milo Thatch from "Atlantis," and John Rolfe from "Pocahontas II"), and rarely seem to face the issue of being overlooked. Also, I'm not counting the anthropomorphic Princes for the same reasons, although I'm sure there's things to be said about Bambi, Simba, Flik and their brethren. Nor do I count the Disney Classic characters (e.g. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, etc.) in alternate roles, again for the same reasons.
One thing I've noticed with the Princes is that they tend to get pigeonholed into one of two basic templates: the innocent/naive (and often quite boring, almost to the point of being a Stepford Prince) Boy Scout, or the ignorant (and frequently obnoxious) egotist. And, if he's not a title character, he's nearly always the former. Let's review our Princes, shall we?
Starting in 1937, we get Prince Charming from "Snow White." Poor Charming. He definitely falls under the Boy Scout template, and his role is limited to merely a brief romantic interlude to plant girlish fantasies in Our Heroine, and then show up at the end to rescue her into Happily Ever After. He's really more plot device than true character.
Our next Prince doesn't come along until 1950's "Cinderella," and, again, Prince Charming falls under the former template, and, again, he has a pretty limited role. He does show a little bit of personality in trying to convince his father that in the "modern era" of the setting the new thinking means he ought to be able to choose his own bride, but that's about the extent of that.
In 1959, we meet Prince Philip in "Sleeping Beauty," the first Prince with an actual name, but still limited to the basic personality template. He does display some individual personality, particularly early in the film when a very young Philip wrinkles his nose at his infant future bride. However, much like Snow White's Charming, Philip's role involves little more than a romantic interlude with the title heroine, exchanging a few quips with his father (re-using the Cinderella line of it "being the fourteenth century--times have changed!"), and then saving the day and sweeping off the heroine into Happily Ever After.
In 1963's "The Sword in The Stone," we get Arthur, the first to make a significant break for the established Princes and come into his own as a fully-realized character. For one thing, Arthur's story isn't a love story, but rather a coming-of-age tale (much of the film, he's just referred to as "Wart"). He's much younger than any of the other Princes, still being a child, and thus the first without a Princess counterpart. He also spends a large portion of his screentime transmogrified into various animal forms, benignly, yes, but still in an effort to teach him various lessons.
We don't get another actual Prince until 1990's "The Little Mermaid," where we're introduced to Prince Eric. Of the traditional Princes, he's the first to really get significant screentime, and although he's heavily-based on the Boy Scout template, he does show a little bit of individuality. His major defining personality trait appears to be determination, but he still pales in comparison to his spunky Princess counterpart Ariel. In the sequel, we barely even see Eric, and what little we do see is a rather Stepfordized Eric who's more set dressing than character.
The next year, in 1991's "Beauty and the Beast," we get our first Prince to actually be a title character, and he decidedly follows the second template, particularly according to the introduction. However, he has no name of his own, and his major goal in getting his Princess counterpart to warm up to him is a slow metamorphosis into the Boy Scout template. And, speaking of metamorphoses, he spends all but a few minutes of his screentime as a Beast, a punishment inflicted by a sorceress, and when we DO see him as a Prince, he barely speaks and seems to have been almost fully Stepfordized. Very rarely does he show up otherwise, even with the multitude of "Beauty and the Beast"-related spinoffs and sequels--but, again, the focus there is not on the Prince (even though the setting is frequently his home), but rather on his Princess counterpart, Belle.
1992's "Aladdin" briefly introduces us to Prince Acmed, who is only onscreen for a couple scenes. He's also very much from the "egotist" template--which is probably why he gets rejected nearly out of hand by Jasmine. And what does he get for his trouble? Getting insulted by our title protagonist and attacked (more or less) by a tiger.
Our next Prince (on a technicality) is 1997's Hercules, and although he isn't transmogrified, he's also a transformed Prince, being made mortal rather than divine. He decidedly follows the Boy Scout template, but fortunately does get to be a distinct person. However, he's still not as complex a character as his Princess counterpart Megara.
In 2000, with "The Emperor's New Groove," we meet Emperor Kuzco, who takes being an egotist to a whole new level. He's supposed to be roughly 18, but acts much more immaturely. And, of course, the lion's share of his screentime is spent in the form of a llama, thanks to Yzma, but her goal is not to teach him a lesson, but simply to remove him from the seat of power. Kuzco's story is really that of a buddy story, and, again, he has no Princess counterpart. All potential love interests on film are immediately dismissed out-of-hand, and the first time we find a girl who can hold his interest, it's in the TV series in the form of the lovely Malina (who fits the "intelligent and resourceful" template), who won't have him due to his obnoxious ego.
The next Prince, Prince Jeeki, serves a bit role in "Mulan II," and for what little we see of him, decidedly also follows the "egoist" template, being immature, whiny and overall intentionally distasteful. Of course, his only purpose is really to establish a contrast to Shang to emphasis the sacrifices of Our Heroine. He, too, is little more than a plot device.
Disney went tongue-in-cheek for 2007's "Enchanted," introducing us to Prince Edward. In many ways, Disney was parodying itself, and so Edward is an intentional caricature of the early Princes, and takes his naive Boy Scout role to a completely over-the-top level, to the point where he tries to slay a city bus for the sake of his lady love. Edward is presented with the opportunity to evolve into something other than a caricature, but he resists it, in a way to underline the fact that the only place he belongs is in mythic Andalasia--he can't ever be a real person, so to speak, unlike his Princess counterpart, Giselle.
Finally, in 2009, we get to Prince Naveen. Naveen scans as being a little older than most of the other Princes (who can typically be estimated somewhere between the ages of 17 and 23), seeing as he's not only an egotist, but a playboy as well (having "dated thousands of women," in his own words). Of course, most of his screentime is spent as a frog, apparently to remove him from the position of power. He does learn humility and sacrifice to a degree, taking on a hint of the Boy Scout persona, and once his humanity is restored does not speak again following that scene (Tiana, meanwhile, gets a final song), although with what bit we see at the end, doesn't seem to have entirely lost his flair.
So, with all the effort Disney has spent in marketing its Princesses as role models of sorts for young girls, they seem to have dropped the ball in doing the same for boys with their Princes. It seems that individuality in the Princes tends to be punished with a sort of horrible Circean justice. Not that there's anything wrong with teaching our boys to be Boy Scouts, but it's okay for them to be complete people too. As the mother to a young boy, I must say I'm rather disappointed.
Now, later on this year, Disney is scheduled to release a new film based on the "Rapunzel" story, and it'll be interesting to see if the male lead (who, according to the original fairy tale, should be a Prince Regnant) will fall victim to the same pattern.
For the record, it's adorable. It's also one of the more hotly-contested movies Disney's produced ever since "The Black Cauldron" (which is the ONLY Disney Animated Feature to garner a PG-13 rating upon its theatrical release. Guidelines have relaxed a little since then, so if you find it nowadays, you'll see it marked PG), and the most racially-contested film since "Pocahontas," mostly due to the hollering of the PC groups, since this is the first film to feature an African-American protagonist. At first, they screamed because the heroine was tentatively named "Maddy" (which amuses me, because Disney already HAS a female character named "Maddie," short for "Madeline," who's a poor girl working the candy counter on "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody"--except, of course, she's white and played by Ashley Tisdale), so they ended up naming her Tiana (and, as a side note, Disney has another Tiana as well--she's the aunt of Phineas and Candace on "Phineas and Ferb," and again is white--a redhead, as a matter-of-fact). That, and one of the sidekicks, Ray, is a Cajun, and there was again clamoring that he's too "stereotypical" in his portrayal. And then there was the issue of her profession (originally going to be a maid, and then finally a waitress who wants to own her own restaurant). And let's not forget the fact that, while the villain is black, the male love interest is not, making this the first interracial couple since the "Pocahontas" duology. In fact, I don't think anyone's quite sure what the hell ethnicity Naveen's supposed to be, considering he's got an Indian name, a Brazilian accent, and speaks a vaguely Romance-based language that I *think* is supposed to be something like Portuguese, but I don't know it well enough to confirm that.
"Princess and the Frog" is also the only truly modern one of the "fairytale" stories, in that it's set in Jazz Age New Orleans, rather than "vaguely medieval time period." Which is probably why our Heroine and Hero remain the only ones to still have day jobs when they get to Happily Ever After. Of course, being Disney, only certain aspects of the culture of the era and locale come through, which is how a rich white girl can apparently be BFFs with a poor black one. There is a little racial tension when a pair of white male realtors selling the property Tiana wants for her restaurant refer to her as "a little woman of your background [having] her hands full with a big business like that," but that's about the limit of it. Well, it IS Disney, after all.
The new villain is Dr. Facilier (or Shadow Man, as he's sometimes called), and he's a voodoo witch doctor of sorts--he sort of reminds me of a cross between Jafar from "Aladdin" and Hades from "Hercules," in that he's a smooth-talking, magic-wielding charmer sort. However, I do have mixed feelings about him, if only because his motives are remarkably unclear for a Disney villain with what appears to be a hostile-takeover scheme. His biggest goal seems to be becoming the puppetmaster, if you will, of the city of New Orleans. Disney themselves described it as "wanting to take over New Orleans," to which I had to wonder "JUST New Orleans? Why not Louisiana? The United States? The world? And isn't there an easier way to accomplish this besides voodoo?" However, he doesn't seem to want to be the one obviously in charge, but rather a behind-the-scenes manipulator, although it seems to somehow require killing off a rich, jovial fatcat of influence in New Orleans. Still, he seems to offer up his takeover of the city as a bargaining chip to his "friends on the other side," saying that they get all the wayward souls they want, if they'll just help him out one more time. Exactly what Facilier gets out of all this is never made clear, beyond "don't make the voodoo deities more annoyed with him," let alone why the heck it requires him targeting Naveen and his manservant Lawrence to be his pawns. At one point, it seems like he's in it just for money, but greed alone doesn't ring true for the sole motivation. Truthfully, I think what he's really seeking is respect, and seeks to do that by obtaining influence and wealth, but nothing's certain on that. The closest we get is him saying that he can't conjure anything for himself through voodoo, so he needs puppets of his own, but the question still remains why does he specifically need THOSE two? I realize that for the film's target audience (a.k.a. small children), he doesn't really need to have motivation beyond just "being the bad guy," and that the film is titled "The Princess and the Frog," not "The Voodoo Man of New Orleans," but still--there's a story here that never gets told and it feels incomplete to me.
Then there's Naveen himself, and he sort of straddles the line between being endearing and annoying, at least at first. In a lot of ways, I think he's the bastard lovechild of Emperor Kuzco and Lumiere. Interestingly enough, he's one of very few Disney protagonists to be a polyglot, speaking English, French and what I'm assuming is Maldonian (the weird made-up vaguely-Romance-based language he peppers his speech with--although he has one interjection that reminds me very strongly of watching "Pirates of Dark Water" as a kid). Also, he's one of very few Disney protagonists to not only have both parents, but a younger sibling (the vast majority of Disney protagonists, assuming family is mentioned at all, are only children and/or from single-parent households, with the absent parent typically deceased--even Tiana as an adult has lost her father in WWI). However, it was in my observation of Naveen that I came to realize something.
Disney has spent a great deal of energy marketing their Disney Princesses line to little girls, and Tiana is the newest face in the pantheon, which most famously includes the likes of Cinderella, Aurora, Belle, Jasmine, Ariel and Snow White, although some other various Disney heroines have managed to sneak in now and then, particularly during the early marketing phases (for instance, Mulan was briefly included at one point). Now, each Princess seems to be based on one of three major personality templates: "naive and crazy-for-the-prince" like Snow White, Aurora and Charlotte (the debutante from "Princess and the Frog," but she counts for at least a short time), "spunky and rebellious" like Jasmine and Ariel, and "intelligent and resourceful" like Belle and Tiana. However, each girl is a fully realized and fully-fleshed-out individual. But, with all this focus on the Princesses, it seems that Disney has overlooked something: the Disney Princes.
Now, to be clear, when I refer to the Disney Princes, I'm meaning the human (or close enough) Prince Regnants--that is, they're royalty of their own accord, rather than by who they marry. Not that there isn't something to be said about the Prince Consorts, but they're a rarer breed (really, I can only think of four from the human sector, most famously Aladdin, but also Taran from "Black Cauldron," Milo Thatch from "Atlantis," and John Rolfe from "Pocahontas II"), and rarely seem to face the issue of being overlooked. Also, I'm not counting the anthropomorphic Princes for the same reasons, although I'm sure there's things to be said about Bambi, Simba, Flik and their brethren. Nor do I count the Disney Classic characters (e.g. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, etc.) in alternate roles, again for the same reasons.
One thing I've noticed with the Princes is that they tend to get pigeonholed into one of two basic templates: the innocent/naive (and often quite boring, almost to the point of being a Stepford Prince) Boy Scout, or the ignorant (and frequently obnoxious) egotist. And, if he's not a title character, he's nearly always the former. Let's review our Princes, shall we?
Starting in 1937, we get Prince Charming from "Snow White." Poor Charming. He definitely falls under the Boy Scout template, and his role is limited to merely a brief romantic interlude to plant girlish fantasies in Our Heroine, and then show up at the end to rescue her into Happily Ever After. He's really more plot device than true character.
Our next Prince doesn't come along until 1950's "Cinderella," and, again, Prince Charming falls under the former template, and, again, he has a pretty limited role. He does show a little bit of personality in trying to convince his father that in the "modern era" of the setting the new thinking means he ought to be able to choose his own bride, but that's about the extent of that.
In 1959, we meet Prince Philip in "Sleeping Beauty," the first Prince with an actual name, but still limited to the basic personality template. He does display some individual personality, particularly early in the film when a very young Philip wrinkles his nose at his infant future bride. However, much like Snow White's Charming, Philip's role involves little more than a romantic interlude with the title heroine, exchanging a few quips with his father (re-using the Cinderella line of it "being the fourteenth century--times have changed!"), and then saving the day and sweeping off the heroine into Happily Ever After.
In 1963's "The Sword in The Stone," we get Arthur, the first to make a significant break for the established Princes and come into his own as a fully-realized character. For one thing, Arthur's story isn't a love story, but rather a coming-of-age tale (much of the film, he's just referred to as "Wart"). He's much younger than any of the other Princes, still being a child, and thus the first without a Princess counterpart. He also spends a large portion of his screentime transmogrified into various animal forms, benignly, yes, but still in an effort to teach him various lessons.
We don't get another actual Prince until 1990's "The Little Mermaid," where we're introduced to Prince Eric. Of the traditional Princes, he's the first to really get significant screentime, and although he's heavily-based on the Boy Scout template, he does show a little bit of individuality. His major defining personality trait appears to be determination, but he still pales in comparison to his spunky Princess counterpart Ariel. In the sequel, we barely even see Eric, and what little we do see is a rather Stepfordized Eric who's more set dressing than character.
The next year, in 1991's "Beauty and the Beast," we get our first Prince to actually be a title character, and he decidedly follows the second template, particularly according to the introduction. However, he has no name of his own, and his major goal in getting his Princess counterpart to warm up to him is a slow metamorphosis into the Boy Scout template. And, speaking of metamorphoses, he spends all but a few minutes of his screentime as a Beast, a punishment inflicted by a sorceress, and when we DO see him as a Prince, he barely speaks and seems to have been almost fully Stepfordized. Very rarely does he show up otherwise, even with the multitude of "Beauty and the Beast"-related spinoffs and sequels--but, again, the focus there is not on the Prince (even though the setting is frequently his home), but rather on his Princess counterpart, Belle.
1992's "Aladdin" briefly introduces us to Prince Acmed, who is only onscreen for a couple scenes. He's also very much from the "egotist" template--which is probably why he gets rejected nearly out of hand by Jasmine. And what does he get for his trouble? Getting insulted by our title protagonist and attacked (more or less) by a tiger.
Our next Prince (on a technicality) is 1997's Hercules, and although he isn't transmogrified, he's also a transformed Prince, being made mortal rather than divine. He decidedly follows the Boy Scout template, but fortunately does get to be a distinct person. However, he's still not as complex a character as his Princess counterpart Megara.
In 2000, with "The Emperor's New Groove," we meet Emperor Kuzco, who takes being an egotist to a whole new level. He's supposed to be roughly 18, but acts much more immaturely. And, of course, the lion's share of his screentime is spent in the form of a llama, thanks to Yzma, but her goal is not to teach him a lesson, but simply to remove him from the seat of power. Kuzco's story is really that of a buddy story, and, again, he has no Princess counterpart. All potential love interests on film are immediately dismissed out-of-hand, and the first time we find a girl who can hold his interest, it's in the TV series in the form of the lovely Malina (who fits the "intelligent and resourceful" template), who won't have him due to his obnoxious ego.
The next Prince, Prince Jeeki, serves a bit role in "Mulan II," and for what little we see of him, decidedly also follows the "egoist" template, being immature, whiny and overall intentionally distasteful. Of course, his only purpose is really to establish a contrast to Shang to emphasis the sacrifices of Our Heroine. He, too, is little more than a plot device.
Disney went tongue-in-cheek for 2007's "Enchanted," introducing us to Prince Edward. In many ways, Disney was parodying itself, and so Edward is an intentional caricature of the early Princes, and takes his naive Boy Scout role to a completely over-the-top level, to the point where he tries to slay a city bus for the sake of his lady love. Edward is presented with the opportunity to evolve into something other than a caricature, but he resists it, in a way to underline the fact that the only place he belongs is in mythic Andalasia--he can't ever be a real person, so to speak, unlike his Princess counterpart, Giselle.
Finally, in 2009, we get to Prince Naveen. Naveen scans as being a little older than most of the other Princes (who can typically be estimated somewhere between the ages of 17 and 23), seeing as he's not only an egotist, but a playboy as well (having "dated thousands of women," in his own words). Of course, most of his screentime is spent as a frog, apparently to remove him from the position of power. He does learn humility and sacrifice to a degree, taking on a hint of the Boy Scout persona, and once his humanity is restored does not speak again following that scene (Tiana, meanwhile, gets a final song), although with what bit we see at the end, doesn't seem to have entirely lost his flair.
So, with all the effort Disney has spent in marketing its Princesses as role models of sorts for young girls, they seem to have dropped the ball in doing the same for boys with their Princes. It seems that individuality in the Princes tends to be punished with a sort of horrible Circean justice. Not that there's anything wrong with teaching our boys to be Boy Scouts, but it's okay for them to be complete people too. As the mother to a young boy, I must say I'm rather disappointed.
Now, later on this year, Disney is scheduled to release a new film based on the "Rapunzel" story, and it'll be interesting to see if the male lead (who, according to the original fairy tale, should be a Prince Regnant) will fall victim to the same pattern.