[Editor's Note: I found this Ex Situ via the indispensable The Disney Blog.]
Mr. Michial Farmer at Ladder on Wheels has written an excellent two-parter about themes of darkness and anxiety in Disney and Pixar movies (including Up). It’s practically a survey of disturbing things in Disney and Pixar movies. The first part is all about how dark the early Disney features were, and how they lost some of that darkness after (roughly) World War II:
…All of the early Disney features—for our purposes, let’s define “early” as prewar, which would allow us to work with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo, and Bambi—are shiny and beautifully drawn, but all of their prettiness only serves to hide the deep, existential dread at their cores.
While Mr. Farmer has a good point, I do think he neglects some of the darker imagery of The Rescuers, The Black Cauldron, The Lion King, or even Lilo & Stitch. Though the darkness in these films isn’t quite as fundamental or thematic as most of the pre-WWII examples he gives.
His second part is all about how Pixar’s stories are successful partly because they have embraced those mature themes which have been largely absent from the post-war Disney films. Here’s part of his discussion of Finding Nemo:
Finding Nemo, on the other hand, begins with a reference to and amplification of the central terror in Bambi. Here Marlin’s wife dies a terrible death just as they’re planning their life together, and the Barrucuda who eats her also goes ahead and takes out all but one of her eggs. Marlin—understandably, although the film doesn’t seem to acknowledge that!—becomes a picture of anxiety, protecting his disabled son (a nod to Dumbo, though Nemo doesn’t get the brutal mocking that his elephantine counterpart does) from the world that took his wife with little to no warning.
It’s very true that Pixar does not shy away from including more sophisticated and mature themes. It’s certainly part of the reason why Pixar movies resonate strongly with both kids and adults. Pixar also does not make the mistake (common among the filmgoing public) of mistaking “dark/edgy” for “dark/mature.” A lot of cartoon and comic fans seem to think it validates their love of the artform if disturbing stuff is haphazardly included, whether or not it actually adds anything symbolically or thematically. Pixar probably learned its lesson after that first disastrous “edgy” draft of Toy Story.
Found via The Disney Blog, here is a video essay on YouTube™ entitled Sexism, Strength and Dominance: Masculinity in Disney Films. Some brief comments afterward.
I found the essay to be short-sighted and reductionist. He seemed to cherry-pick the characters which fit his thesis (mostly from Beauty and the Beast, which is often used as a dead horse for essays of this nature). For every shallow example he brings up, a counterexample could surely be found. Off the top of my head: characters in Tarzan, The Rescuers, The Fox and the Hound. The topic of the representations of masculinity and femininity in Disney movies is worthy and interesting, and deserves better. For a much more thoughtful and insightful discussion (without the crutch of video clips or lame This American Life-esque background music), see the very excellent over-analyzation Mulan: A Modern Rescripting of the Classic Romance.
Did you ever notice that patterns emerge in the fur colors of major protagonist characters of the domestic feline species portrayed in popular, secular, post modern children’s media? Female feline protagonist tend to have white fur, a reoccurring characteristic for the heroines in a significant number of films involving cats, examples include female characters from The Aristocats, Cats Don’t Dance, The Rescuers (she’s a mouse, but the concept still stands). On the other hand, the male feline protagonists have orange fur, examples include male characters from Garfield, Heathcliff, The Aristocats, An American Tail, Cats Don’t Dance, etc. Furthermore, leading males that have dark or cold colors as oppose to the traditional orange fur are sadistically tormented on a regular basis as in the case of the black furred Sylvester (he speaks with a lisp, indicating homosexuality, further “justifying” violence and bodily harm on him) or the blue furred Tom.
The question is: why? As in the case of females the trend of white fur can be explained in terms of color symbolism. White represents purity and virginity, which in itself raises questions as to why would somebody care if the leading female cat is a virgin? A healthy human mind shouldn’t be concerned with the sexual characteristics of an animal. This can be linked to the themes of zoophilia that are apparent in children’s media. The orange color typical in heroic male domestic feline characters has significance, personally I don’t know what it is, (I can’t provide anything more than weak allusions to the Orange Party of the 19th century, which may have something to do with the early American working class on which the nation was built.)
An anomaly in the white female trend would have to be Garfield’s Arlene, she’s pink(which again could be explained in terms of identifying gender with color) the obvious implication of her not having white fur: she’s not a virgin.
Other implications of the white furred female felines in The Aristrocats, the leading female has white fur, indicating virginity, yet she has children with her, what is she? She’s a Virgin Mother! She’s being escorted to some safe paradise by a humble (orange) male, fleeing from an oppressive empire, the references to Roman society (aristocrats, hence the title.) Three children can represent almost anything, the number three is of significance to Christianity: the Trinity, the three Mages, the three Archangels, etc. All this has significance.
Posted by The Editor 
Posted by The Editor 
Posted by The Editor 