Thursday, May 15, 2014

'Frozen' Holds Women Back

NOTE: I liked Frozen. I lost a bet with Ethan and had to write this essay because I'm making him write one that proves the opposite. (Also: Maureen might have helped a little.)


Classic Disney stories are told from the perspective of weak women in need of freedom. The only way for these women to obtain their desired freedom usually comes from the love and power of a man. We can see this in Cinderella and her futile attempts at getting away from her step-mother. The prince is needed in taking her out of her poverty and pain. The Little Mermaid wants so much to be a human, just so she can live a life with a mortal man. And Sleeping Beauty! The crème de la crème of the Disney princesses, a woman in a sleeping trance in need of a man's kiss to wake her up. Opposed to running contrary to this trope—like some supporters tend to spout—Frozen buys into the formula and we're stuck with another installment in a string of movies that fight against the strong and independent woman, thus furthering the unwanted oppression.

Take, for example, how these women consistently fall in love immediately. Sleeping Beauty meets cute with her prince over a date-rapey dance number, for crying out loud. Their “love” is all based on physical appearances. Cinderella is basically helpless until she is rescued, but is she pursued for what she can offer on an intellectual or emotional level? Of course not. She's hot, and therefore worthy of man's salvation. Ariel sacrifices her body, family, voice, and independence in order to conform to a stranger's (but she loves him!) assumed physical ideal.


At its outset, Frozen appears to be bucking the cripplingly patriarchal ideals classic Disney touted. When the sheltered Anna wants to marry the first man she sees and it is based completely on the outward appearance, she gets called out on it, first by her sister Elsa and then by Kristoff. The prince is handsome and charming, therefore he belongs with a beautiful princess. (And make no mistake, though Anna hits all the classic dorky-girl movie moments: bed head! Burp jokes! Clumsiness! she is in every way clearly a man's representation of female physical perfection.) This action plants Anna directly into the original princesses' mindsets.

Both Elsa and Kristoff call bullshit on the whole sentiment. “You can't marry a man you just met,” Elsa cautions, and she has a point. And when Hans' laughably overwrought treachery is finally revealed, it validates her point. However, it should be noted that Anna only comes to this realization after a long and arduous journey through the snow-bound tundra to find her sister. A journey she embarks on wearing...a ballgown. A journey that would have almost certainly ended in death by exposure had she not been rescued by...a man. (By the way, for a movie ostensibly about the validation of independent women, it sure doesn't feature a lot of them. Two female characters, Disney. Solid.) And this man, who semi-for-the-sake-of-the-narrative-begrudgingly befriends her, ends up being the real romantic interest. So ladies, get it straight: marrying the first man you meet? Silly! Tromping off into the unfamiliar wilderness alone with the second? Perfectly fine, provided you're cute and he has an anthropomorphic reindeer.


You could also say that this situation shouldn't count against the movie considering the relationship forged with Kristoff wasn't based on physicality, but rather an emotional bond they built throughout those two days, but to that I say you will always have a strong connection to someone who helps you through an emotionally strenuous situation. That's not love, that's Stockholm Syndrome. (Looking at you, Belle.) However, there is a much bigger issue the movie took in all this love business.

Essentially, Disney is trying to use Prince Hans as a way to call attention to the outdated trope, and then prove how clever and self-aware they are by side-stepping it. The problem is they still side-step into the very trope they attempt to avoid by bringing a romantic relationship into the movie at the end. Sure, it wasn't the kiss that broke the spell, but all that moment of sisterly love did was reveal that they still loved one another even after years of solitude. Which, honestly, isn't a super healthy attitude to begin with. There is as much potential emotional damage to be done by leaping into a relationship with an estranged family member as there is with a romantic partner. And ultimately, it is made clear that the Anna's future happiness is going to stem from her relationship with Kristoff. It's a cop-out on Disney's part: they made a statement about independence, self-actualization, and the cathartic power of fixing a fractured relationship, and then slapped a sparkly question mark at the end of it. Frozen had to end with Anna and Kristoff, because at the end of the day, a single princess just weirds everyone the fuck out, and Disney couldn't risk it.

In addition, by bringing the trope to the viewer's forefront with making such a big deal out of how clever and witty the writers were, it is breaking the fourth wall. When you break the fourth wall you wan to rely heavily on a social commentary (usually, though not necessarily, about how the populace ingests entertainment). Frozen does not have this commentary, so in breaking the fourth wall they are merely self-congratulating themselves from something they never actually accomplished. This makes the masturbatory exercise even more embarrassing from an outside perspective.



Don't try to be clever because that boat has sailed. Pixar has already elevated the quality of storytelling at Disney, so make a good movie instead of taking huge steps backwards in trying to salvage an outdated formula. 

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