Fairy Tales 2010

Monday, February 1, 2010

In Defense of the "Disney Spell"

When I watch any classic Disney film, the experience is steeped in nostalgia. Almost immediately, I am whisked back to the long-forgotten sunny afternoons of my childhood, becoming, once again, an overall-clad little girl sitting cross-legged in front of the T.V. and staring at the fantastical images lighting up the screen with wide-eyed enchantment—images of fairy godmothers and flying carpets and even a lovable salt shaker who sings and dances.

Disney films have come to shape our modern conception of fairy tales. Mention of the tale Cinderella rarely conjures an image of Perrault’s oppressed wretch Donkeyskin, who fled home to escape her father’s incestuous advances. Rather, we envision Disney’s creation—the blond, beautiful woman who blissfully sweeps dust while serenading a troop of house-mice. Indeed, Disney has, in many ways, monopolized the fairy tale genre. In his critical essay Breaking the Disney Spell, Jack Zipes deems the pervasiveness of Disney films a cultural atrocity, writing:

“The great ‘magic’ of the Disney spell is that he animated the fairy tale only to transfix audiences and divert their potential utopian dreams and hopes through the false promises of the images he cast upon the screen.”

One of Zipe’s biggest critiques, among others (and there are many), is that Disney appropriates the fairy tales and injects his “all-American” morals and values into them. By projecting his idealistic vision onto the screen for filmgoers across the nation to watch and ingest, Zipe claims that Disney, in effect, insults the historical integrity of the folklore tradition, deceiving audiences with a highly-stylized, utopian “illusion.”

But what’s the harm in a little idealism? What’s so bad about, to adopt the cliché, “daring to dream?” To me, Disney movies were much more than a mere childhood diversion, something to entertain all those happy overall-wearing days. It was Disney, after all, who instilled me with a capacity for wonder, who cultivated my imagination, who awakened my creativity. It was Disney who taught me to wish upon a star, to believe in true love. It was Disney, above all, who inspired me to dream. Yes, such notions may be considered naïve, the product of a childish mind. But inevitably, there comes that fateful day when a child is not a child anymore and he discovers that the real world doesn’t always resembles Disney’s real world—discovers that, sometimes, the bad guys prevail and that the fairy godmother doesn’t always appear. And it’s okay to preserve a little bit of that long-lost child somewhere deep inside of you, to dream the Disney dream. If Zipes had his way and children’s movies were produced with a healthy dose of realism, we’d be breeding a generation of cynics and skeptics who lack the ability to imagine and dream and think big.

1 comment:

  1. I completely agree with you. I wrote my blog on Zypes' article as well and I think we argued the same points. Disney, I believe, did not mean to warp the minds of children into believing that everything will turn out the way you want it to. Instead, he encouraged dreams and wishes. He wanted children to believe that anything was possible. I believe he would be completely happy with the new "Princess and the Frog" movie. It was about determination, hard work, and perseverance. These are three key elements to achieving any goal you may have for yourself. I think Zypes read way to far into the Disney mentality. I think overall, Disney was a businessman and he was trying to find a movie and plot that would appeal to the masses. Which would you rather see Disney's Cinderella or the Grimms versions?

    ReplyDelete