Showing posts with label consumersism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consumersism. Show all posts

14/09/2012

The Women of Disney's Renaissance: Not Such a Fairy Tale? Part V.


The aim of this discussion was to assess the representation of women during Disney's renaissance in the late 80s and early 90s, utilising the findings to ascertain the studio's philosophy, and whether this accords with post-feminist debate, or less positive patriarchally defined gender stereotypes.

It became clear from the outset that the corporation's founder, Walt Disney, prided himself on his ability to tell stories via the means of animation, and favoured the fairy tale genre because it stood for the motifs of fun, nostalgia and wish-fulfilment that he wanted to purvey.  It subsequently seemed a logical choice to use the fairy tale as the basis for this project; examining its core themes from an analysis of its origins as an oral tradition, through to its adoption into popular culture, and using the conclusions to advance an understanding of the values of Disney's versions of the same stories.

The reasons for selecting this period as the historical site of interest were twofold; firstly, since the term 'Renaissance' has literal connotations of revival and renewal, evaluating the status of gender in this period allows investigation of whether the studio revitalised their system of beliefs to correspond to a modern outlook.  Secondly, as this renaissance occurred shortly after a shift in feminist debate, it appeared doubly significant to study Disney films from this time, in order to comprehend whether the post-feminist mode that emerged in the 1970s influenced the depictions of Disney heroines.

The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast were chosen as the central texts, owing to their long-standing heritage as well-known fairy tales, and the fact that the films appear to posit girls as the main protagonists.

In Part II, the role of the fairy tale was discussed, with the summation being that it has performed many objectives over its lifespan; from offering a sense of community and motivation, to acting as a form of trade and worship, to becoming today's recognisable symbol of hope and escapism.

While Zipes maintains that the genre was considered harmful to children, due to its covert suggestions of good versus wickedness, and the terrifying consequences of unacceptable behaviour, others including Bettelheim, argue that fairy tales help to progress the minds of young readers, allowing them to overcome anxieties by experiencing them through the safe format of a story.  It was noted that this beneficial aspect of the fairy tale, along with its ability to develop imaginative skills, is what makes Disney animations appealing to young audiences.  By setting a narrative within the colourful Disney realm, it poses no threat to a child's innocence, while retaining enough of a relationship with the real world to allow the corporation to subtly persuade the spectator into applying its values to wider society.  It was proposed that, once Disney takes ownership of a fairy tale, it uses the genre's devices of subtlety and allegory to disguise its own agendas; concealing them within an exterior that viewers have learnt to trust as genuine, and doubling their authority.

This post then detailed the evolution of Beauty and the Beast and the Little Mermaid via their multiple adaptations, from their respective derivations as Greek and Swiss folk tales, to their famous appropriations by de Beaumont and Andersen.  De Beaumont's rendering of the story is of female loyalty and devotion; Beauty does her utmost to obey and care for her father, whose needs she places well before her own.  She encounters Beast in consequence of one of her few wishes, and her relationship with him is one of acceptance; she gradually learns to love him.

De Beaumont's tale acted as a form of instruction for its female readers, telling them to not only respect their fathers, but to abide by all regulations defined by men, in order to be regarded as ideal housewife material.  Beauty's tolerance of Beast connotes that women forced into marrying threatening men needed to remain patient and understanding, so as to reveal their husband's potential for good.

Beauty, as the focal point of the story, typified expectations of young women's domestic destiny during the 18th century, and her submission to the codes of patriarchy proves advantageous to her, for with her marriage came wealth and aristocracy.

The Little Mermaid is more autobiographical, with parallels between the mermaid's life, and that of Andersen.  Both the author and his creation are fascinated by the telling of stories by their elders, and long for access to the world beyond their limited existence.  The pain that the mermaid experiences when changing into a human symbolises the mental suffering that Andersen undoubtedly went through on account of his underlying homosexual emotions, whereas her loss of voice is a metaphor for the writer being forced to repress his feelings.

Andersen's mermaid was read as being in a similarly oppressed situation to Beauty, as both girls conform to the rules of a male-dominated environment; although the mermaid has a grandmother, it is her father that dictates her regime.  The mermaid appears more autonomous than Beauty, as she takes it upon herself to find a way out of this oppression, by sacrificing her voice for liberation.  Yet, the fact she has to give up her ability to communicate means that she still can not find an equal place within society and, like Beauty, her desires cause her suffering.

Part III looked at the process of adaptation, and employed the relevant theories to a comparative investigation between Andersen and de Beaumont's texts, and Disney's films.

From engagement with the work of Hutcheon on adaptation, these posts have concluded that Disney's The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast should not be expected to retain complete fidelity to their descendants, because of the nature of adaptation to evolve to fit with the needs of its culture, and reflect the differing ideologies of its interpreters. 

In accordance with Zipes' writings, it was noted that film, as a collaborative method, will denote the general stance of those involved in its creation. This means that a series of possibly conflicting opinions would have to be combined to form one message, which would be founded on the ideologies of that time.  To this end, and as Warner concurs, when a fairy tale is cinematically adapted, the end product can be used to instruct the audience on how to respond to social issues, with the metaphorical disposition of fairy tales allowing film-makers to interweave socially-driven connotations into the seemingly safe and honest realm of film.
With this in mind, Disney's ethos becomes less innocent than it maintains, for it appears that the studio decided to take on the fairy tale genre because, as an already popular medium, it would guarantee a spectatorship that was willing and eager to absorb the underlying implications of these films.  Additionally, both Disney and the fairy tale assure comfort and wish-fulfilment and, due to the corporation's commercial influence on children in particular, through their dissemination of products, and franchised 'experiences' like the theme parks, young viewers might find it difficult to avoid Disney's version of a 'utopian kingdom', and are made to forget the morals of the adapted texts, in favour of the studio's agenda.

Propp's concept of the function of fairy tales was then utilised to conduct a close examination of the literary and cinematic renditions of The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, and returned the following findings.

Firstly, Disney's mermaid is motivated by selfish and materialistic desires, in comparison to Andersen's character, who is portrayed as a victim of her curiosity, fuelled by the stories of those around her.  Andersen's mermaid wants to belong to the human world because it offers hope of living and dying as an individual that will be loved, whereas Ariel is looking to escape her oppressive father.  Ordinarily, Disney's figure appears the more positively illustrated character, as she is responsible for her decisions, and inclined to see the world with her own eyes, rather than relying on the tales of others. 

Yet Ariel comes across as a rebellious teenager, intent on the acquisition of beauty and success, and the fact that she does not die at the end of Disney's tale means that her egotistical longings are rewarded.  This indicates the importance that the corporation places on capitalism and fetishisation; where Ariel, as the ideal consumer, makes a small sacrifice to gain her innermost yearnings.

Beauty and the Beast was subjected to the same study, which found that, in opposition to the majority of literary versions of this tale, it is Beast that is positioned as the film's protagonist, not Beauty/Belle. 
The film begins with the Prince, whose violation of an interdiction causes his transformation, and it is this that the narrative focuses on throughout.  Belle is simply the answer to Beast's problems; the donor, whose own needs are inferior.  Belle and Beauty are similar in their loyalty and care towards their fathers, and it is this obedience that leads them to meet Beast.  However, whereas de Beaumont's tale follows Beauty, and her acceptance of Beast; which stands as an allegory for her as the perfect housewife in training, Disney places Beast at the centre of its narrative, casting him as the victim of female intolerance and cruelty.

Part III deduced that the changes Disney made to Andersen and de Beaumont's stories had a largely negative attitude toward the portrayal of femininity, with Beauty and the Beast in particular citing women as the perpetrators of society's errors.  Belle and Ariel are not free to make their own decisions, as initially presumed in consequence of the post-feminist culture in which the films were produced; rather, they depend on those around them to achieve mobility, and are constructs of patriarchal and consumerist belief systems.

Part IV was concerned with how questions of female identity, representation and consumerism could be found in the Disney adaptations.  It was acknowledged by Warner that folk tales have traditionally depicted women as submissive childbearers and that, once they have passed the age of reproduction, they are seen as deviant; hence the emergence of the evil, older villainess. 

Ursula, and to a lesser extent Beauty and the Beast's beggar/sorcerers, epitomise this idea via physical horror and manipulative mannerisms, while their younger counterparts retain their beauty, but have little control over their lives, and none whatsoever over the lives of others.

The sea witch proved especially intriguing, and was inferred as adopting the characteristics of a drag queen to comment on society's constructed notion of the ideal woman; performer, consumer, sex object.  She also took on the role of substitute mother to Ariel, a relationship that is not normally found in Disney films, for it contains many complexities and contradictions.  Far from being a positive change, Ursula's matriarchy is criticised by Worthington as being detrimental to the film's young viewers, since it may cause them to see their own mothers as threatening to their happiness and independence.  To this end, patriarchy's disturbing influence is pushed aside to allow for a harmful view of women as bitter, jealous rivals, prepared to go to any lengths to achieve prosperity. 

Ariel's loss of voice is deemed of little significance by Disney, who insinuates that as she has her looks, she will retain her attractiveness to the opposite sex, which will result in her achieving access to the male-dominated, capitalist realm.  It is suggested that a woman's silence is key to her appeal and contentment, and this coincided with McRobbie's argument that modern women are unlikely to complain about inequalities that may arise during their lifetime, since society has taught them to be appreciative of the liberations they have been awarded.

The subject of consumerism was then discussed, with Belle and Ariel displaying connotations of young women that want more from their lives.  Belle sings of wanting to see the world outside of her small provincial town, and her love of books suggests her desire to escape, whilst implying that she is trying to improve her education as a means of propelling herself to emancipation.  Indeed, McRobbie writes that women see qualifications as a way of attaining an independent role within society's economy, which leads to them being recompensed by their positions as powerful consumers.

Conversely, it was noted that Belle only seems to read fairy tales, suggesting her unrealistic worldviews and, with such stories as Sleeping Beauty providing the foundations for her knowledge, it was likely she would end up in the same position as her fictitious heroines; sacrificing her freedom to marry the man of her dreams.  Of course, this is how the film ends, with Belle's aspirations of seeing the world instantly forgotten, or sacrificed, when she chooses to live as a princess within the confines of Beast/Prince's castle.

Ariel too wants more from life, and her role as a consumer is illustrated by her vast collection of human artefacts.  Most notably is the mermaid's desire for legs, which is understood as representing sexuality, independence, and an appropriation of the beauty and fashion industry.  Ariel's transformation is like a metaphorical makeover, which Tasker claims is a consequence of the pressure on women to make the most of their appearance so as to appeal to the patriarchal modes of ideal femininity, and ensure a high-ranking social status.  The mermaid's painless conversion naturalises this process, while the fact that she retains this form and retrieves her voice at the film's conclusion suggests that women can have everything they desire, as long as they work hard, and comply with the rules of patriarchy.

Finally, Disney's marketing of the 'Princess' brand was considered, stemming from Ariel's remarkable resemblance of a fashion doll.  It was argued that, by making such characters as Belle and Ariel beautiful and, apparently, fortunate, they promote a certain lifestyle to young girls that, in order to achieve the same 'happy endings' as their heroines, they must model themselves on their physicality. 

By playing with plastic representations of these women, children are encouraged to create their own stories, based on what they have seen on screen.  Disney's fairy tales become the originals in the minds of these spectators, and their imaginations are enhanced by playing with the film-inspired dolls.  In reality, from a young age, audiences are coached by Disney to be the perfect consumers, and ideal images of female sexuality; with the dolls' beauty and infinite number of accessories denoting the liberating and enjoyable effect of consumption, and its promise of satisfaction and access.

Overall, the past few posts have established that, contrary to the connotations of the term 'Renaissance', Disney has not provided a completely positive representation of women within the two films that have been analysed.  Belle and Ariel are marketed as feisty, brave, strong heroines; fighting male dominance to achieve happiness.  Yet, on closer inspection, these girls are submissive, objectified constructs of patriarchal hegemony and, rather than standing as symbols of female emancipation, they are marked as indicators of compliance, commodification and fetishisation.

While Disney maintains a male bias, which is most clearly visible in Beast's apparently unfair curse, it should not be claimed that this is an unrealistic or atypical perspective.  Undeniably, post-feminist critique directly remarks on such viewpoints, which provide the very foundations of this theory.  Women, according to post-feminism, are encouraged to consume, oblige, improve, learn, and so on in order to gain what they can from a society dominated by male ideals.  Post-feminists recognise that inequalities remain, but point out the positive changes that have occurred, and concentrate on supporting women to make further improvements, by being independent, and effectively bowing to male authority.

It could be claimed that Disney is only revealing society’s contemporary philosophy on gender and that, rather than being deciphered as negative, these films are indicators of current cultural norms.  Certainly, issues of gender stereotyping and the effect that the media has on children are predominant in today's culture, and so Disney's The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast could be seen as attempts to comment on such debates, and bring them to the fore in an effort to produce change.

The basis of this examination was to assess Disney's depiction of femininity in relation to its traditionally patriarchal attitude, and it appears to have successfully demonstrated that, while not completely unrealistic, Disney is neither favourable nor hopeful in its portrayal of women, and their role within society.  

24/08/2012

The Women of Disney's Renaissance: Not Such a Fairy Tale? Part IV.

As Part III has shown, de Beaumont and Andersen's tales have experienced a number of changes at the hands of Disney.  This post aims to examine the films in relation to these alterations, as well as in terms of their general themes and values, to ascertain how women are represented, and whether this corresponds with common gender stereotypes, post-feminist critique, and Disney's contemporary ethos.  To coincide with the format of the previous post, the role or, as Propp theorises, the lack of parent will first be addressed.

In a lecture on the position of women within the folk tale, Warner states that femininity has always been associated with reproduction, and that once a woman passes the age of fertility, they are seen as undesirable and unproductive.  A female that is unable to have children implies disobedience towards the laws of nature, which is emphasised in the majority of fairy tales by her horrific physicality; as in the case of the sorceress in Beauty and the Beast (Trousdale & Wise, 1991), or malicious behaviour; The Little Mermaid's (Clement & Musker, 1989) Ursula:

[…] a theme develops that takes the infertile women who has passed the age of childbearing as representing in some fundamental way a transgression against the purpose of her sex, and in that transgression against the natural God-given order she can then serve to represent other pejorative and repulsive or repugnant aberrations.  (1993:72-73)

On the one hand, these women can be viewed positively as, unlike their young rivals, they are largely responsible for their own actions, and display dominance and superiority over those weaker than themselves.  They are also, according to Bell, the only women to speak to the audience via a tendency to frame them in close-up:
The narrative flow is set into motion by the actions and reactions of these women, as they respond to the behaviours of the protagonists, i.e. the sorceress' punishment of the prince's selfishness.  The fact that they are permitted to gaze directly into the camera means that they are granted the ability to challenge the viewer, both in terms of their visual perspective, and their moral outlook.  Whereas the protagonists, Belle and Ariel, are merely constructs of their surroundings, and have no influence over those that are commenting on and controlling their lives.

Naturally, these villainesses are not simple examples of positive female representations, as their power is indicative of negative patriarchal ideology.  Focusing on Ursula to begin with, while it is explained that she once lived in Triton's palace, no reason is given for her banishment; implying that she became a threat to the king's masculinity and governance, on account of her size and supernatural abilities.  Subsequently she lives alone, with her dark and foreboding cavern of residence resembling a womb, whose tunnels, containing the shrivelled remains of previous victims, lead Ariel to her fate. 

Ursula is not actually a mermaid, rather she is an octopus or, as Sells claims, an 'inverted Medusa' (1995:184), and her unattractiveness is emphasised by her grotesque obesity, particularly when viewed in contrast to Ariel's slenderness.  As such, Ursula is not part of any of the film's communities, and represents the threat of difference and otherness; specifically towards patriarchy.  Her appearance epitomises the stereotypically unattractive traits of femininity, while her weight connotes an overbearing and smothering matriarchal presence (Trites, 1990/1991). 

The fact that her cave is reminiscent of a womb suggests male anxieties towards strong and autonomous women, while her imprisonment protects men from the threat of castration; by situating her as Other, outside the norm, patriarchal hegemony is safe from being overruled. 

While it is Ariel that seeks Ursula's help in the first place, the trade that takes place; voice for soul, is fuelled just as much by the needs of the witch as those of the mermaid.  Ursula is jealous of Ariel's beauty, voice and place within Triton's kingdom, and preys on the girl's weakness; her love for Eric, in retaliation to her banishment.  Her hideousness, as Sells assents, makes Ariel's rejection of the only strong female character in favour of the male-dominated human world understandable, as she would seemingly prefer to be mute and beautiful than articulate and repulsive:

Ariel's entry into the white male system is at the expense of her connection with the mother.  The gynophobic imagery sanitizes this cost, making it more palatable.  By vilifying feminine power in the figure of Ursula, Disney simplifies Ariel's choice: in the white male system it is much easier to be silent than to be seen as monstrous. (1995:181)

In the scene where the trade takes place, Ursula sings to Ariel of the 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' (Clements & Musker, 1989) that she has allegedly helped in achieving their wishes to be more desirable.  Already, the witch is offering Ariel something that many women yearn for and, when the mermaid questions whether she can leave her family, she persuades her by stating that 'Life is full of tough choices' (Clements & Musker, 1989).  One of these choices is of course Ariel's loss of voice in exchange for a human life, but Ursula makes this seem a small sacrifice, and tells the girl that she will 'never even miss it' (Clements & Musker, 1989), and that she will still have her looks, and her body language.

Ursula's insinuation that Ariel will not need her voice when she becomes human is interesting, as it implies a patriarchal notion that silent women will become more successful and appealing.  As Walter observes, men who do not speak are stereotypically regarded as icons of masculinity, such as Pride and Prejudice's Mr Darcy; for talking is generally associated with the expressing of emotions.  Quiet men are often seen as attractive and powerful because of their ability to control their feelings, which fascinates women who long to expose these hidden depths.

In contrast, women who talk openly and frequently are commonly perceived as irritating gossips, whereas those that are silent may be considered as uneducated outsiders; unable to participate in intelligent conversation.  Alternatively, as Warner and McRobbie propose, a quiet woman can signify compliance; a concept that dates back to mediaeval imagery, where Obedience was always portrayed with her hand over her mouth (Warner, 1993:72).  Warner goes on to describe that, if a woman answered back, she would be punished by the removal of her beauty, and an increase in her age.  Thus, what typifies the ideal woman; good-looking and reproductive, is taken away, which may have been Ursula's fate, as perhaps she verbally challenged Triton's authority, leading to her incarceration and ugliness:

'Hence the connections between beauty and virtue on the one hand, and ugliness and vice on the other.' (1993:72-73)

McRobbie applies a post-feminist critique to this way of thinking, suggesting that due to the recent increase in female emancipation, and the general consensus that the sexes are equal, women feel unable to speak out against any disparities, as they fear they will be looked upon as troublemakers.  Hence, it seems women tend not to complain if they are treated unfairly, for society assumes that they should be grateful for the freedoms they have been granted, as McRobbie posits:

'[…] the new female subject is, despite her freedom, called upon to be silent, to withhold critique in order to count as a modern sophisticated girl.  Indeed this withholding of critique is a condition of her freedom.' (2009:18)

If a woman was to challenge the media's objectification of her gender for instance, she could be criticised for opposing the very liberations that she has been awarded, as women are now encouraged to embrace their sexuality through such means as clothing and make-up, which are presented to them via magazines, television and posters.

Ursula symbolises Warner's vision of a woman who spoke against a strong patriarchal presence, and by instructing Ariel to remain silent, she is passing on her wisdom of this experience that, when viewed in this way, can be seen as a means of protecting the mermaid from drawing attention to her inferior intelligence and cultural knowledge. 

Following Ursula's song, Ariel's quick acceptance implies that perhaps she is already aware of the limitations of her voice; indeed, when the sea witch first sets out the conditions, Ariel replies with 'But without my voice how can I...' (Clements & Musker, 1989), as if she is unable to construct a cohesive argument even with the ability of speech.   Consequently, Ariel replicates the woman of the post-feminist era as, although attached to her voice as a means of expression, which Disney emphasises by making her a talented singer, she understands that she will gain more success and admiration from staying mute.

Speech is one of the key signs of a woman's identity, and without it, Ariel must rely on another of her feminine indicators; her body.  Ursula's physical form works to accentuate outward appearance, as her lack of femininity evokes an image similar to that of a drag queen (Sells, 1995:182). According to Sells, Disney's director of animation, Ruben Acquine, cited the legendary drag artist Divine as the inspiration for Ursula's look, and it is this that enables a closer study of this character. 

The 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' sequence could be read as Ursula's drag routine, as her actions simulate those of a performer preparing herself to go on stage, where she proceeds to sing and dance provocatively, even using her pet eels, Flotsam and Jetsam, as substitutes for a feather boa:

Ursula's lack of femininity means that this performance is exactly that; a satirical acting out of what it is to be a woman.  Rather than making her seem womanly, the witch's overt use of make-up and coiffured hair appears false, as if it is part of the show, or 'masquerade' (Sells, 1995:182).  Ursula is teaching Ariel the physicalities of how to be a woman, yet Sells suggests that this character is so far removed from womanliness that she is not representing herself as a prime example, but as a recreation of a female:

'In Ursula's drag scene, Ariel learns that gender is performance; Ursula doesn't simply symbolize woman, she performs woman.' (1995:182)

Sells notes that Ariel is taught another lesson by her elder, that to be a woman she must act accordingly, modelling herself to fit with the ideals that correlate with her gender.  Later, when a newly transformed Ariel encounters Eric on the beach, it is clear that Ursula's coaching has paid off, as the mermaid turns to mischievously smile and wink at her friends, demonstrating that she is acutely aware that this is all a game.

Ariel and Ursula's mimicking of the female form, as well as the mermaid's falsification of humanity, stresses the way that the motifs of gender are created.  Ursula as drag queen seeks to remind the viewer that a large proportion of gender-specific behaviours are learnt; influenced by, and modified to fit with, the established norms of society.  Women are 'supposed' to be interested in fashion and beauty, in order to be sexually alluring and successful, and the fact that they are essentially allowed to present themselves as they like, means that the general consensus is one of liberation and equality.  In some respects this is true; with post-feminist discourse assenting that a woman's freedom of expression is a result of a rise in sexual parity, and that the relationship they now have with maintaining their appearance is an enjoyable one.  In Walter's view:

In this final march towards equality, the puritanism that was expressed by so many earlier feminists is a hindrance rather than a help.  Puritanism alienates women as it does not reflect the real, often wickedly enjoyable relationship they have with their clothes and their bodies. (1998:86)

In opposition is the view that women are still subjected to the patriarchal system of values that decree what is appropriate in terms of dress, gesture and mannerisms and, if they were to dramatically go against these rules in pursuit of emancipation, they could be labelled as being too provocative and suggestive. 

It appears that it is the latter perspective that is presented in The Little Mermaid, since Ursula is not illustrated as a woman, but as a cultural construction of womanhood.  If the scenario had been different, and she was depicted naturally, with less make-up and a reduced emphasis on the importance of body language, Ursula might have connoted the principles of Walter's above statement; that women are responsible for their own appearance.  As it stands, with Ursula the drag queen, Disney is implying the androcentric view that women focus on their exteriors in order to benefit men, who are also the dictators of feminine appeal.  The sea witch is effectively a man disguised as a woman, which signifies the hidden patriarchal values at the centre of this film that are literally masqueraded as female independence and emancipation.

The opening premise of this post raised the issue of the role of the parent in fairy tales, and it could be contended that Ursula takes on this position as a substitute mother for Ariel.  Whereas in Andersen's story the mermaid seeks advice regarding the outside world from her grandmother, Ariel receives her facts from Ursula; the only creature to tell her the truth about the humans.  It is Ursula that Ariel calls upon at her time of need, and it is the witch that teaches her how to act, which serves to keep the girl safe once she is among the humans; even if it is more of an advantage for Ursula. 

To return to Worthington's ideas discussed in Part III, the mother/daughter relationship is regularly omitted by Disney because of the difficulties in portraying this multifaceted connection.  If a matriarch does feature, they are generally viewed as a destructive presence, and display feelings of jealousy, rivalry and spite towards their children or step-children.  Ariel shuns the possibility of becoming like Ursula by choosing to live as a human, but the fact that it is the sea witch that gives her this option has maternal connotations.  It is Ursula, as mother, that offers her 'child' the promise of an enjoyable and successful life and, as White proposes, her physical appearance could be deemed as endearing and comforting, with her girth actually giving the impression of softness and warmth:

'Perhaps this is why Ursula, for all her villainy, is a lovable character, whose obesity must be rejected by the girl viewer on aesthetic grounds, but whose ample, maternal folds may also offer vague refuge.' (1993:191-192)

In a sense, Ursula gives Ariel the emotional support that she likely does not receive from her oppressive father, who is more intent on ensuring that his daughter abides by his regime: 'As long as you are living under my ocean, you'll obey my rules' (Clements & Musker, 1989).  Hence, Ursula's contract serves as Ariel's way out of this patriarchal environment; albeit to one that is equally male-dominated.

However, it is made clear from early on in the film that Ursula is resentful of her banishment, and is prepared to go to any lengths to take revenge.  Like the typical villain of Propp's thesis, Ursula receives information on her impending victim, Ariel, via another character, in this case two; Flotsam and Jetsam, who report on the mermaid's infatuation with Prince Eric.  The witch sees this as the ideal opportunity for retaliation, stating that Ariel may be the solution to Triton's downfall; thus the girl is simply a pawn in Ursula's scheme.  Here, Nadel alleges that Ursula stands as an icon of the 'backlash' mode of feminism (1997:94), which witnessed a move by women to overthrow long-standing patriarchal mores, even if this involved harming their own kin:

These feminists [...] aim, according to the mythology of backlash, not to advance women so much as to destroy male-dominated institutions.  Women, in this scenario, are their innocent victims not their beneficiaries.  In adhering to this description Ursula attempts to undermine the advances she has facilitated so that Ariel and, more important, Triton will be in her complete control. (1997:94)

It becomes apparent then, that Ursula remains a jealous and self-motivated mother, and any positive implications that she may possess, as described by White, are overshadowed by her unsavoury character.  Envious that Ariel has everything that she does not, Ursula feels threatened, even though she is an extremely powerful force.  Worthington suggests that this is a sign of the culture in which the film was made, where mature women who may have fulfilled their potentials in terms of social class, wealth and employment are looked upon as less important and influential than their younger counterparts:

These equations of the young beauty with goodness and purity and the older woman with jealousy and evil give a very stark indication of society's viewpoint: as the older woman becomes less beautiful and the young girl becomes more so, the older woman loses social value, despite the fact that she is at that moment […] at the height of her social power and sexual maturity.  According to these films, unless a woman is "the fairest one of all," she is worthless and, subsequently, evil. (2009:34)

Worthington maintains that this tendency to illustrate the older woman as insignificant and bitter is damaging to the beliefs of young female spectators, who may apply this reasoning to their real mothers, and consider them devious menaces, rather than sites of love and encouragement.  This opposes Walter's notion, as examined in the introduction, that women share a number of intrinsic values and principles, based on a common desire for equality.  Instead, The Little Mermaid posits women as being in competition with each other, serving to dislocate this post-feminist sense of unity, resulting in a negation of the true adversary; patriarchy.  Consequently, Disney intimates that male domination is not such a disturbing power as female rivalry, and that, in reality, it is not patriarchy to blame for society's inequalities, but women's apparent need to better one another.

Beauty and the Beast is similarly derogative towards the trustworthiness and selfish intentions of women, who are to blame for the downfalls of men and, in a wider context, society.  The film's opening, where the prince is punished by a sorcereress for his selfishness, lays the foundations for the narrative's undertone; that the Beast is an innocent victim of female wickedness. 

As has been demonstrated, the main character of Disney's Beauty and the Beast is the Beast/Prince rather than Beauty who, since the tale's oral origins, has nearly always been positioned as the protagonist.  Disney's adaptation of the traditional story, made most famous by de Beaumont, places more importance on Beast's enchantment; the details of which are not revealed until the end of most literary versions.   Not only is the Beast/Prince automatically placed as the hero on account of his receipt of an interdiction but, by commencing the tale with him, the audience is led to sympathise with his plight first and foremost, above any allegiances they may make with Belle, whose own story is secondary.  Moreover, Jeffords insists that the Prince's attitude towards the beggar is a product of a poor upbringing, and that this is evidenced in the film by his spoilt, uneducated and rude demeanour:

[…] in contrast to the commanding, sophisticated, and intelligent Beasts that frequent the other tales and that finally make them so deserving of Beauty's love, this Beast seems childish, blustering, "clumsy", petulant, and untutored.  As with his upbringing and his initial acquisition of his selfish personality, the Beast does not have to take responsibility for his behaviour.  (1995:169)

Accordingly, the parents are cited as detrimental to their child's welfare, and the fact that the Prince's family is nowhere to be seen means that they are not given the opportunity to defend themselves, with their absence making their son appear more vulnerable.  It is this vulnerability that the villain plays on, manipulating a man who has limited social skills, and turning him into a prisoner of his physical and cultural environment.

Belle, the donor, is situated as Beast's saviour, as well as his tutor; teaching him how to read, dance, and show patience.  The role of this Beauty may be important, for it is her devotion and love that helps Beast transform, but her character remains minor in comparison to her student. 

Visually, Beast dominates the frame, symbolically overshadowing the smaller Belle , who literally has to look up when speaking to him.  Thus, on top of being metaphorically located as the hero, Beast is bodily illustrated in this way, with his size signifying his male power and authority, trapped within the confines of the screen that, arguably, holds a generally female gaze:

Belle's aptitude for caring for Beast stems from the ineffectuality of her father, who seems incapable of looking after himself, let alone his daughter.  Maurice is an inventor and, as such, is characterised as a stereotypically odd and eccentric man, who likely spends more time on his latest project than with Belle.   Consequently, she has probably had to raise herself; as again there is no mother figure, in tandem with minding her father, hence a reversal of the traditional parent/child relationship.  This is shown when Belle takes Maurice's place as Beast's prisoner, a deed that Byrne and McQuillan describe as a 'classic piece of maternal self-sacrifice' (1999:67) and, certainly, Belle's tendency to put the needs of others before her own makes her the most parentally responsible character in the film.

Like de Beaumont's Beauty, Belle loves to read, and it is this that marks her as an intelligent woman.  McRobbie claims that, in today's post-feminist culture, women are invited to actively obtain a considerable education that is then traded for a higher-ranking position within employment, and society.  In other words, the most highly qualified, hard-working and determined women are recompensed by greater economic and social autonomy, or as McRobbie argues:

'Nowadays the young woman's success seems to promise economic prosperity on the basis of her enthusiasm for work and having a career.' (2009:58)

There is a drawback to this situation; this recent freedom of participation in the wider economy reminds women of the advancements that have occurred to allow it, which McRobbie contends may cause women to feel indebted to, and unworthy of, their male co-workers:

'[Women] are invited to recognise themselves as privileged subjects of social change, perhaps they might even be expected to be grateful for the support they have received.' (2009:58)

Belle's literary pursuits primarily imply her astuteness, and longing to increase her learning, yet the book that she states is her favourite is none other than Sleeping Beauty; a fairy tale, which has the converse effect of representing her as a romantic dreamer, rather than a woman seeking cultural emancipation.  In reality, Belle's books provide her with a form of escapism, and in her song 'Little Town', she sings of her wish for 'adventure in the great wide somewhere' (Trousdale & Wise, 1991), though she does not know where, or how, to achieve this. 

Additionally, this hobby isolates Belle from the rest of the town, who label her as strange and distant, while Gaston, the film's resident bully and Beast's antithesis, tells her that it is not right for women to read because it gives them ideas, and 'gets them thinking' (Trousdale & Wise, 1991).

Subsequently, Belle does not accord with McRobbie's notion of the intellectual post-feminist, as she reads for comfort rather than mental and cultural development, and bases her worldviews on the exploits of her beloved fairy tale characters.  Her song tells of her hopes of seeing the world, but she gives up on this dream by agreeing to be Beast's prisoner, and then again at the film's conclusion, when she becomes the Prince's wife.  Once more, Belle has had to forfeit her aspirations in favour of those of the people around her; even if she is perceived by the viewer as intelligent, this does not benefit her in the ways McRobbie suggests it should, for as Murphy claims, she does not gain social or economic independence, but is trapped by the needs of the Prince, within the custodial walls of his castle:

The abandonment of that wider world in exchange for princesshood reinscribes the validity of androcentric promotion of escapism as the answer to the contemporary cultural debate about the nature of gender relationships – the smart woman gets the prince not by dint of her intellect but by means of her self-sacrificing devotion and love. (1995:133-134)

McRobbie's hypothesis goes on to pronounce that, when women achieve what they believe to be freedom in the workplace, they do so at a price since, not only is this liberation limited, but it acts as consolation for the remaining inequalities that are yet to be addressed.  One area in which women are entitled to greater participation is consumerism, which goes hand-in-hand with financial independence.

By taking on economic responsibilities, and being targeted as powerful consumers, as previously detailed by Tasker, women are coerced into thinking that they can readily make their own decisions surrounding such spheres as appearance, home-life, and employment.  Plus, as a product of the sex trade's blending into popular culture, the taboos of talking about sex, and wearing make-up and revealing clothing, have been removed; resulting in women feeling confident and authoritative when shopping.  The media takes advantage of this modern relationship that women have with their bodies, and advises them on how to improve themselves to obtain personal satisfaction, and to appeal to the male gaze.  Therefore, femininity is sold as a commodity that women are willing to buy into since consumption is an enjoyable and restorative act, and this is further demonstrated by the rise of the makeover, where women who are unhappy with their outer selves are applauded for making changes that fit with social acceptability; explained by McRobbie here:

The authoritative voice of consumer culture is intimate, cajoling and also encouraging […].  By generating body dissatisfaction, the beauty and fashion industries respond directly to the fraught state of non-identity which we all inhabit and which is predicated on unfathomable loss, a loss which is incurred at the cost of acquiring language and sexual identity.  The young woman is congratulated, reprimanded and encouraged to embark on a new regime of self-perfectibility (i.e. self-completion) in the hope of making good this loss.  (2009:62-63)

Both Belle and Ariel indulge in consumerist fantasies of escape from the limitations of their lives, with the outside world symbolising the same promises of freedom and wish-fulfilment that Disney proffers.  Disney is a site of mass commodification and extensive marketing campaigns, which will be evaluated shortly, and for a viewer to enjoy the 'benefits' that the studio assures, they need to buy into the company; exchanging independent beliefs for a patriarchally manufactured product.

Ariel is the most obvious consumer of the two, with her collection of shipwreck finds standing as a visual metaphor for her yearning to belong to a more industrious environment.  In 'Part of That World', Ariel sings of wanting more than she has, which is in reference to her coveting of human legs, for she believes that if she can run and dance, she will belong.  Byrne and McQuillan claim that dancing is directly related to the consumerist modes of fashion and beauty (1999:25), and it could be further argued that Ariel sees legs as a means of escaping her father's oppressive rules, and achieving independence; demonstrated in the following lyrics:

'Betcha on land they understand.  Bet they don't reprimand their daughters.  Bright young women, sick of swimming, ready to stand.' (Clements & Musker, 1989)

Ariel wants to physically change herself to fit with what is regarded as beautiful in the outside world, because she thinks that this is the only way she can attain autonomy and happiness.  Ariel's transformation has interesting parallels with the makeover phenomenon in feminine culture, and Tasker's writings highlight the pressure on women to make themselves as attractive as possible in order to concur with societal norms.  The fact that the alteration does not hurt, unlike the agony that Andersen's mermaid experiences, suggests to the female spectator that such sacrifices are relatively painless, and that modifying their bodies is an acceptable part of the journey towards satisfaction, desirability and success.

At a time when plastic surgery is commonplace for women who are unhappy with their figures, and made to feel additionally self-conscious by the media's fetishisation of perfection, Disney insinuates that complete adaptation is key to accomplishing admission into male-dominated society.  Ariel's love for Eric is simultaneously love for what he possesses; legs, and the products of his world that she treasures.  In this respect, and as Nadel argues, Ariel's longing for change is representative of patriarchy's personification of the ideal woman, and her shallow need to have everything she lacks:

'For Ariel, in other words, humans are fetishized objects, attractive because of their material possessions and attractive like them.' (1997:92)

Even before her human makeover, Ariel is sexualised, wearing only seashells or 'cupcakes' (Sendac in Millar, 1997:9) over her breasts, and with copious amounts of billowing red hair:

It is no accident that Ariel resembles the fashion dolls that have become so popular with adolescent girls for, as well as wanting to look a certain way, the mermaid is Disney's superlative marketing device; selling the corporation's 'Princess' brand as a lifestyle choice.

Hutcheon states that a film's broad range of merchandise allows children to re-enact their own versions of the tales that they have seen on screen; tapping into their infinite imaginations, and forming another type of adaptation.  Children are persuaded to participate in, and take ownership of, the stories, and Disney aids this process by bringing together its dolls under the umbrella of the 'Princess' trademark.  This is justified, according to Worthington, as it apparently makes it easier for children to create more extensive make-believe worlds by having the characters cross over and interact, which means that favourites do not need to be picked, and profits therefore rise. 

Since these dolls are undoubtedly based on the media's limiting view of the perfect woman, with Bell drawing comparisons between Ariel and Farrah Fawcett (1995:110), while the figures are supposed to stand as blueprints for their owners, there is consequently a blurring between reality and fantasy.  The dolls' stick thin torsos, shiny hair and flawlessly made-up faces, coupled with their endless accessories, promotes consumerism in its most primitive form; the need to appeal, acquire, and achieve.  Walter draws attention to this obscuring of 'doll' and 'real girl' as follows:

This strange melding of the doll and the real girl can continue way beyond childhood.  Living a doll's life seems to have become an aspiration for many young women, as they leave childhood behind only to embark on a project of grooming, dieting and shopping that aims to achieve the bleached, waxed, tinted look of a Bratz or Barbie doll. (2010:2)

Disney uses its toys to erase the memories of the fairy tales that it has adapted, by encouraging children to play out the stories as presented to them by the studio, and to sell an idyllic existence that is founded upon patriarchy, capitalism, and consumerism. 

While it could be debated that the sexiness of these dolls is in accordance with the changing attitude towards femininity, and the freedoms that have allegedly been granted, it may be suggested that, actually, they indicate that for a girl to be successful, she must look like them; sacrificing any sense of independence in order to conform with society's predetermined conventions of glamour.

Bibliography:










Trites, R. (1990/1991) 'Disney's Sub/Version of The Little Mermaid', in: Journal of Popular Television and Film Vol. 18, p.145-159





05/07/2012

The Women of Disney's Renaissance: Not Such a Fairy Tale? Part I

Right, so I've been meaning to get this ball rolling for ages, and here it [finally] is.  The following five posts will cover my research on Disney's representatio of women, which I hope will at least proves interesting to those of you who love Disney, fairy tales, reading and feminism – if you can actually love feminism – and maybe even useful to those of you researching these subjects.  I'm more than happy for people to use my findings in their own writing, as long as it's properly referenced – only fair – and I'll endeavour to clearly show the references that I used.  Any questions though, please do comment.  Enjoy.

Spoiler

The following posts examine the role of women in Disney's Renaissance period, specifically The Little Mermaid (Clements & Musker, 1989) and Beauty and the Beast (Trousdale & Wise, 1991), and will compare them to previous literary versions to achieve an understanding of the studio's principle agenda.  These posts will feature a close textual analysis of the Disney films, and Propp's theory on the functions of fairy tales will be used to compare the morals and values of these versions with their most famous literary predecessors; those written by Andersen and de Beaumont.  It is then posited that the filmic adaptations have been manipulated in such a way as to reflect the corporation's patriarchal and capitalist ideologies, by suggesting that girls like Belle and Ariel are merely submissive constructs of a male dominated society.  The supposed autonomy of these characters is explained as signifying the post-feminist tendency of women to seek liberation by gaining access to the workplace, and becoming independent earners.  However, Belle and Ariel both long for more; desiring to belong to the 'outside' world, which promises beauty, admiration and freedom.  The fact that neither girl is satisfied with life indicates the media's pressure on women to appear a certain way; to change themselves in order to correspond to a set of prescribed norms; and to ultimately become happy and successful.  Thus, the outcome is that Disney's young women stand as metonyms for the anxieties of many female viewers, who feel they should work hard to fit into society, and then appear grateful to their male colleagues, for allowing them these freedoms to succeed. 

So far so good?  On to the intro then.

The Intro

1989 witnessed the beginning of Disney's 'Renaissance era' (Byrne & McQuillan, 1999, et al); lasting roughly until 1999, where the studio once again became a popular, and much-loved, household name –  after nearly going down the pan in the late 70s/early 80s.  Giroux writes that Disney's increasing economic power, as shown through the buying up of numerous television and film networks during the 1980s and 90s, demonstrated not only domination of the media industry, but of cultural and political hegemony.  In other words, Disney acquired authority and influence due to its vastness and, because it is practically impossible to avoid this conglomerate, it is similarly impossible to avoid its beliefs and values.  Furthermore, the phenomenon of marketing; the selling of 'tie-in' products such as toys, clothes and even specially packaged food items to coincide with a film's release, plays right into the hands of consumerism which, in effect, is one of the ways an individual feels a sense of belonging to the wider society or, as Giroux states:

If we imagine the Disney Company as a teaching machine whose power and influence can, in part, be measured by the number of people who come in contact with its goods, messages, values, and ideas, it becomes clear that Disney wields enormous influence on the cultural life of the nation, especially with regard to the cultural life of children. (2001:19)

In reference to Disney being positioned as a teaching aid, Giroux claims that the studio's long-standing commitment to the portrayal of innocence, happiness and imagination in contrast to the realities of contemporary American life, became like a system of educational tools.  By standing as the chief signifier for family entertainment and escapism, and with the promise that Disney will fulfil its consumers' hopes and dreams, as encapsulated in its 'When You Wish upon a Star' theme tune, the corporation sought to re-educate audiences, particularly children, in the spheres of consumerism, self-identity, and even nationalism.  Shrouded in its cloak of innocence, Disney's dominance of culture, economy, politics and the media means that its underlying strategies of control, consumption and commodification can be filtered into the minds of its billions of users.  In addition, as Giroux notes, the magical world of Disney acts as a site of fantasy and distraction for children from the hectic and stressful lives of adults, creating the illusion of a kinship between its young spectators, who are made to feel secure enough to readily receive the teachings of this substitute guardian:

Stripped of the historical and social constructions that give it meaning, innocence in the Disney universe becomes an atemporal, ahistorical, apolitical, and atheoretical space where children share a common bond free of the problems and conflicts of adult society.  Disney markets this ideal, presenting itself as a corporate parent who safeguards this protective space for children by supplying the fantasies that nourish it. (2001:31)

Thus, from a young age, audiences are taught to believe in Disney's magic, as it provides a world of safety and unity, far removed from that of its real-life alternative.  The innocence that the company endorses effectively becomes truth, largely because it is what individuals want to believe, but also because it is what they are provoked into believing via the processes of marketing, merchandising and advertising, as well as Disney's omnipotent involvement within the wider realms of society and culture.

The fact that two of the first three films of Disney's Renaissance are based on fairy tales is interesting to note in relation to Giroux's comments, and it is these two films; The Little Mermaid (Clements & Musker, 1989) and Beauty and the Beast (Trousdale & Wise, 1991), that provide the foundations for this discussion.  For now, a brief initial observation would surmise that Disney's recreation of these 'classic' tales at the beginning of its own reinvention demonstrates the desire to situate itself as the purveyor of fantasy and escapism, and that these particular stories, in their familiarity and resurgence of childhood nostalgia, enhance the connotations of storytelling and, consequently, of the educative passing on of wisdom, advice and valuable life lessons by an elder to a child. 
Leading Ladies
The protagonists of both The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast are girls, though as will be discussed later, Disney's filmic adaptation of the latter has made Beauty, or Belle's, role much less significant in comparison to her literary predecessors.  Hence, due to Disney's fascination with the heroine, and its repeated portrayal of seemingly strong, charismatic and determined young woman, it is from a feminist perspective that the films will be considered. 

At the time that the Renaissance era began, feminism was experiencing great changes in its political and cultural hegemonies, as well as in its perception within society.  Whereas the feminist movement of the 1970s was primarily concerned with issues of equality and sexual liberation, later polemics of the 1980s and 90s were more interested in the attitudes of society as a whole towards women and, while still focusing on equality in the home and workplace, shifted attention to the ways that women were publicly presented; specifically by such institutions as politics and the media. 

This new wave of feminism, often termed Third Wave or post-feminism, tends to be more celebratory of women's roles in society; their achievements, in terms of academic, employment and politics; and their freedom to express themselves via their appearance, mannerisms and body postures.  Women are encouraged to openly display their personalities, even if they do not correspond to society's traditional views on what is considered customary and expected.  This allows for a 'modern' breed of on and off screen female character with which to identify and aspire, as Walter argues:

Young women can now explore a range of different ways to behave; aggressive and articulate behaviour is rewarded as well as passive or quiet behaviour.  Women now have countless naughty, large and noisy heroines to emulate as well as the good, small and quiet heroines of the last century. (1998:58)

Tasker develops the notion of female emancipation further, claiming that a woman's ability to choose what she wears has the effect of turning her into a powerful consumer.  By this, Tasker means that women gain power from wearing clothes that they have chosen and paid for, not only because these items say a lot about their owner's character, but because shopping for them carries with it a sense of autonomy, satisfaction and enjoyment.  Additionally, the importance that has been placed on consumerism and physical appearance as sites of pleasure has resulted in women being revered as articles of beauty and perfection which, instead of constituting objectification, enhances female liberation and authority, according to Tasker:

In line with this peculiarly silent visibility, postfeminism also perpetuates woman as pinup, the enduring linchpin of commercial beauty culture.  In fact, it has offered new rationales for guilt-free consumerism, substantially reenergizing beauty culture [...]. (2007:3)

In this way, consumerism can be seen as beneficial to women; acting as a form of [retail] therapy, as it provides a means of expressing identity that is, seemingly, related to internal desires and wishes, as opposed to the external viewpoints of society.  This concept can then be applied to feminism in a wider context, as contemporary attitudes towards women can, at first glance, appear to have the effect of allowing them to make their own choices, which are generated by individual needs and wants, not by those of society. 

However Walter has revisited the key ideas in cultures of feminism, proposing that this alleged trend towards freedom through consumption is falsely justified.  While women are now able to buy, wear and [within reason] do what they want, the privileges set out by the beauty industry specifically mean that sexual objectification can be equated to female empowerment.  The necessity for women to look beautiful connotes a certain amount of vulnerability and lack; in that perhaps they wish to fulfil this aspect of their lives in order to gain success in other areas, such as business and education, and coincides with the recent acceptability of the sex industry into mainstream culture.  As Walter notes, children's dolls, which are often modelled on such cinematic heroines as those featured in Disney films, have become highly sexualised over the past decade, as have their on-screen counterparts; who regularly appear in skimpy clothes, have big hair, and faces covered in make-up, no matter their age.  Far from denoting emancipation and equality, the sexualisation of girls, and the suggestion that attractiveness leads to happiness and achievement, actually suggests the opposite.

It appears that, contrary to cultural belief, little has changed in regards to society's attitude towards women since the feminist movement of the 1970s, and that while it may seem women have been granted greater freedom in terms of their private and public spheres, this 'freedom' is in fact a disguise or 'masquerade' (McRobbie, 2009:79), working to conceal the truth; that women are not free to be themselves, because it is still society that sets out the, somewhat antiquated, terms and conditions or, in the words of Walter:

The rise of a hypersexual culture is not proof that we have reached full equality; rather, it has reflected and exaggerated the deeper imbalances of power in our society.  Without thoroughgoing economic and political change, what we see when we look around us is not the equality we once sought; it is a stalled revolution. (2010:8-9)

In order to relate this post-feminist critique to the women of Disney's The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, the issues of equality, consumerism, sexualisation and objectification will be looked at in detail.  The following three posts will address a specific theme: fairy tales, adaptation and representation, with post-feminism providing a theoretical framework and analytical approach for all three.  There will then be a conclusion, to sum it all up nice and concisely.  Don't go skipping to that part first though, cheats!

The aim of this disscussion is to evaluate how women are presented in Disney's versions of The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast; and whether this is positive, as 'Renaissance' denotes, whether the studio's adaptation of these tales signifies negative attitudes, or whether indeed these aspects co-exist in tension.  By looking closely at the fairy tale and theories of adaptation, and relating the findings to a comparison of the literary texts with Disney's renditions, a greater understanding of the films' subtexts will be reached, and the corporation's position on the depiction of women will become clearer, as any alterations made in the move from page to screen should carry significant implications. 

Keep 'em peeled for Part II: the one about fairy tales.

KT xxx

Bibliography:

Byrne, E. & McQuillan, M. (1999) Deconstructing Disney, Pluto Press: London