Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. These titles are just a few of the Disney classics which we are all to varying degrees familiar with. Fantastical tales that follow the same familiar trope: boy meets girl, adversity is faced, obstacles are overcome, rags to riches- you know the one. But these age-old classics have recently come under fire for their dubious portrayal of issues surrounding gender and consent, and the messages that younger impressionable viewers may glean from them.
Actor Keira Knightley (soon to appear as the sugar plum fairy in upcoming live-action fairy tale film The Nutcracker), as well as Frozen actor Kristen Bell have both stated in recent interviews that, from the standpoint of a mother, the protagonists of classic Disney princess stories fall short in providing positive role models for their young children. Knightley claimed when speaking on The Ellen Show that both Cinderella and The Little Mermaid were ‘banned’ titles in her household, the reasoning being that Cinderella ‘waits around for a man to save her’, and that Ariel gives her voice up ‘for a man’. Similarly, Bell begged the question: “Don’t you think it’s weird that the prince kisses Snow White without her permission? Because you cannot kiss somebody when they’re sleeping!”
Initially, this boycott of Disney seems reasonable. No one can deny that the Disney tales of 1959 (Sleeping Beauty), 1950 (Cinderella), and 1937 (Snow White) are far from flawless when it comes to demonstrating feminine empowerment; it is more often than not the case that emancipation for the female protagonist cannot be achieved without male intervention or aid, a message that obviously does not belong in the 21st century. But is the sole objective of the princesses to find a prince? No- the plots do not revolve around husband hunting. The male figures, in the case of both Cinderella and The Little Mermaid arguably function as useful mechanisms that enable the protagonists to achieve their initial goals and dreams (escaping poverty, familial abuse and mistreatment, and to live on land as a human). In fact, in most cases the princes aren’t particularly prominent characters, merely aids in plot and modes from emancipation from the princess’ situations. Admittedly, this is rocky terrain for impressionable viewers, and a slippery slope when it comes to gleaning values. But it seems reductive to say that the only message you can glean from these classics is a desire to be saved by men.
Are we a generation that has been damaged by Disney? This is what Knightley and Bell seem to be suggesting, but there are plenty of valuable lessons to be gleaned from these films: perseverance, unrelenting kindness, compassion, and courage in the face of adversity are just a few of the positive traits that the princess’ of the classics possess; to never allow yourself to become trapped in a vicious cycle in which hate breeds more hate. None of which, it must be agreed, are ‘bad’ traits for your children to aspire to.
On a more technical note too, their arguments are flawed- would it have been better, in Bell’s eyes, if the prince had left Snow White and Sleeping Beauty trapped in their magical comas for all of eternity instead of breaking their curses with a non-consensual kiss? Would that have been a preferable outcome? And in The Little Mermaid, I think it’s fair to say that Ariel’s giving up of her voice is obviously a mistake; one that she is punished for pretty harshly.
Excepting, of course, the disappointing missed opportunities of the live-action remakes of these classics (I’m looking at you Cinderella), the issue of the influence of these titles seems superfluous. These films are dated, ancient in the eyes of children in 2018, and have more or less already been put to bed. The fairytale convention of the masculine prince entering to save the helpless damsel is clearly a trope of the past; titles such as Frozen and Moana are evidence of this. Speaking out about the ‘issues’ presented in films that are, after all, from a different century seems like a questionable use of platform from both Knightley and Bell.
At the end of the day- feminism is all about choice. Parents have the right to censor their children and choose what they expose them to, but idealistic feminism and empowerment feels like it falls somewhat flat when you snatch away the DVD from your unassuming toddler, filled with the fear that one day- 10 to 15 years from now- they will be in a position where they make a judgement call about consent or a crucial moral decision based on the princess films they consumed in their now-distant childhood. It doesn’t seem like a particularly likely scenario, does it?
Katherine Keir