Disno!

I'm going to say something now that may shock you, so please put down your coffee, tea or adult beverage, situate your emotional support animal securely in your lap, and listen to my harrowing declaration: I have never, ever liked Disney movies. Never. Not once. Not even remotely. 

I liked Disneyland. When I was a boy, I lived a mere 20 miles from there. And it was relatively cheap in those days, so I visited it maybe a half-dozen times a year with my family until I was ten years old or so (though I haven't been back since). The rides were fun but I never associated them with movies. It was just an excellent, maybe the very best, amusement park. The movies, the ones I remember watching that is (i.e. Snow White, Cinderella, Peter Pan, Dumbo, Bambi, One Hundred and One Dalmatians, The Jungle Book) were always a little, uh, boring to me. I always felt I was watching a Disney lesson rather than a Disney movie. Here's the kind of cartoon I liked as a child:

And here's the kind of cartoon I enjoy as a childish adult:

I'm not sure what it is about Disney cartoons and movies I don't care for. (I mean, I was born on Walt Disney's birthday so you'd think there would be some kind of connection there.) Perhaps it's the inherent racism of Micky Mouse? Or perhaps it's the formulaic stories? Or the incessant and devious marketing strategies? Or, I don't know, the fact that Disney's squid-like tentacles have slimed themselves over nearly every corner of the our popular culture?

Perhaps I'm exaggerating a bit. For effect. But I do feel like this gargantuan corporate enterprise has a much too expansive hold on our lives, not just in North America but across the globe. I, like "Pam and Nicole" (Christensen, p.183) won't allow my son to watch Disney movies, though I'm aware that I may someday lose that fight (so far, he's unaware of their existence). My objections on my son's behalf have more to due with consumerism and conformity than the implicit or explicit messages within the films themselves, but I'm not too impressed with those either.

To my eyes, Frozen was nothing more than an animated Broadway musical for kids. I don't mean that as a compliment because I also hate Broadway musicals. (And believe me, I'm aware that this is an unpopular and minority opinion, but that's a whole other blog, you know?) It's lesson was the same as ever: Be yourself! Live your own life by your own rules! Good advice. Good, boring, generally unachievable advice. The messages about what is valued is basically as S.C.W. A. A. M. P. as it gets, updated for today's audiences (the true love is not romantic but sisterly; the hero knocks out the bad guy all by herself; the "bad witch" turns into a "good witch"). Like the Black Cinderella in Christensen's chapter (p.180), the updates don't change the fundamental flaws of the form.