Disney's latest installment in a trend of rejuvenated fairytales is arguably its best. Besides the unprecedented public obsession with Frozen, the film is uncommonly good for an animated family picture. Fresh, endearing, inventive, and elegant, the film's most critically successful element is its profound wit.
Beginning with a fairly dark opening sequence, the film follows the lives of orphaned princesses Elsa and Anna. Elsa, endowed with magical powers over snow and ice (and the magical voice of Idina Menzel), is an adaptation of Hans Christian Anderson's Snow Queen. Kristen Bell voices her younger sister Anna who maneuvers the gauntlet of adolescent emotional ties. The coming of age narrative is (brilliantly) twofold, expertly written and paced for this film. A welcome and similarly well-written sidekick named Olaf is voiced by Josh Gad in delightful comedy. This character is infectious beyond its intelligent humor, however: Olaf's unbridled hope and optimistic outlook is totally unpolluted with contemporary cynicism or bitterness. Other vocal talents include the charming (but strangely unmusical) Jonathan Groff as Kristoff and (a personal favorite) Ciarán Hinds in the tiny role of the troll Grandpa.
Featuring beautiful animation, Frozen hearkens back to any number of Disney classics. Passing moments such as Anna's touring the town visually remind us of Beauty and the Beast (1991), the film's cultural attention feels akin to Brave (2012) or The Princess and the Frog (2009), and the thrilling final act almost matches Pocahontas (1995) or The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) in emotional intensity. The Broadway-style music follows suit of the golden age of Disney musicals, but with a modern spin not unlike Tangled (2010). Since so many audiences seem hell-bent on comparing Tangled and Frozen, I thought we could critically compare their thematic implications, though my focus will be on the latter film.
CONFESSION: I like both Tangled and Frozen, but it's valuable to look critically at what we absorb and advocate, and especially what kinds of images and narratives we encourage children to observe. That's why, besides Tangled, my other chosen references in this post are more feminist- and queer-friendly than most Disney films. That said, let's go.
Princess Anna demonstrates courage, bravery, and intelligence in her quest for love. Though she rashly deems Prince Hans a suitable future husband (in Disney's most brazen assault on "love at first sight" to date), she eventually learns other forms of love with Kristoff and her sister Elsa. Her bravery stems from a sense of responsibility and family duty: She leaves her kingdom in capable hands to find her sister the Queen and return order to the land. Though men help her along her journey (Kristoff, Sven, Hans, and Olaf), she by no means relies upon them. Kristoff is arguably the male figure who helps her the most, and yet we know that Anna would have found a way to the top of the mountain without him; she had indeed already traveled a long way on her own.
Tangled's Rapunzel, on the other hand, demonstrates bravery that is rooted in impracticality, irresponsibility, and selfishness. She is a dreamer (and a particularly air-headed one at that), and she leaves safety and love for her mother to pursue a dream that is only an extension of her curiosity. Her resourcefulness only highlights her weaknesses; e.g., when Flynn shows up, she ties him to a chair (because, being a man, he is physically superior to her, right?), haphazardly questions him (and gives him more information than she receives), and strikes him with a frying pan (because, as a woman, she naturally only has cooking utensils at her disposal). Her fear of this man is changed slowly into something like love, though, and this asserts her as the submissive party in their relationship. Flynn is the protector, provider, guide, and love interest; she utterly needs him in order to follow her dream. How sweet, and how patriarchal. But the single element that most declares Rapunzel to be inferior is her objectified status. Being the typical (beautiful, white, skinny, artistic, wide-eyed optimist) damsel in distress who resides on an idealized platform (literally, her tower), Rapunzel is the objectified woman under the male gaze. This arrestingly obvious problem notwithstanding, the filmmakers decided to make the misogyny manifest in Rapunzel's similarly objectified hair: her long golden locks are lusted after by various characters, until she is relieved of them, and she is no longer "special". Holy symbolism.
Anna is not the only hero of Frozen. Her sister Elsa leads a psychologically tortured plotline of her own. In what is arguably Disney's most aggressively (albeit symbolically) queer narrative, Elsa is forced into hiding a secret that will damage her reputation, acceptance, and ability to advance in society. She has to "conceal, don't feel" her natural instincts, and must physically hide away from the public eye to avoid scrutiny; in passing, her greatest fear is that she may "make one wrong move and everyone will know." When she is revealed, she literally builds a life apart, and makes a fabulous turn as Arendelle's Snow Queen when she learns to accept and forgive herself.
The film overtly teaches lessons of acceptance and grace for people who are Different: the non-human Olaf overflows with affectionate joy, and even the trolls are the movie's "love experts". But the most original and beautiful lesson the film teaches is one of sacrificial love. By running away, Elsa sacrifices her ties to society and her sister in an effort to restore peace and normalcy to the kingdom. Anna then sacrifices her safety to bring her sister back. Most tellingly, the notion of "true love" in Disney films is usually held between monogamous, heterosexual, ethnically similar young couples, and is discovered and maintained selfishly: seeking pleasure or a means to an end (usually independence). And if you notice, "the act of true love" is almost always a kiss, an act bestowed and received for personal pleasure (no, a kiss does not count as sacrifice, no matter how you read it). But in Frozen, the "true love" is between sisters; while their sibling status is not a magical bond between them and they have to work at their love, their efforts prove fruitful. They become more than sisters, they become friends because they have to work at their relationship. Importantly, the "act of true love" is one of a very literal sacrifice: Anna dooms herself to icy death to save her sister. Greater love hath none than this.
IMDb: Frozen
What do you think? Have I mischaracterized Tangled, or Frozen for that matter? Did I miss important elements from any of the films mentioned in this post? Can you think of any comparable elements in other Disney films? Please share your thoughts below!
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