"It's Chaotic, But Hey It's Home": Disney's Live-Action "Aladdin"

"Oh, imagine a land, it's a faraway place where the caravan camels roam,

Where you wander among, every culture and tongue--

It's chaotic, but hey, it's home!"

So starts Disney's live-action Aladdin -- a new beginning for the now infamous lyrics of "Arabian Nights*." That line -- "it's chaotic, but hey, it's home" -- seems to nicely sum up the 2019 version: the live-action adaptation is a bit of a hodge-podge, and I'm not entirely sure the film knows what it wants to be (is it a straight remake? is it a retelling? is it a feminist story about a non-mad-queen's rise to power? is it an action movie?). But it's familiar and comforting and taps into the nostalgia 90s' Kids (those of us who were kids in the 1990s) have for Renaissance Disney films.

*(See, for instance, the NY Times review, "It's Racist, But Hey It's Disney!" and the LA Times' coverage of the changes Disney made in response to that criticism. Vanity Fair also seems to have a pretty good piece on the changes that were made in the 2019 version, but I admit I haven't fully read it yet.)

My husband and I had a chance to see it this afternoon, and, per usual, I went in without reading any extensive reviews. I can't help seeing the headlines as I scroll past them on social media but I try to avoid them so I can form my own, relatively uncolored opinion. On the way home, we had a pretty good discussion about what we thought of it and it ended with my saying, "I bet Glen Weldon from your NPR podcast will hate it." For the record, I don't think I was wrong. My husband loves this podcast -- I can't really do podcasts or audiobooks as I tend to zone out, no matter how engaging they are; and I do think this one is pretty engaging -- and we usually listen to their discussion of films after we see them.

But I couldn't get on board with their review of the film. From what I've seen in just Googling the articles I've needed for this post, the reactions seem to be mixed, with some critics praising Will Smith as the saving grace of the film and others lamenting his role, so, to paraphrase Will Smith's Genie, there's a lot of gray area here.
I've embedded the podcast here, since my post is largely a response to this discussion. Read more below the jump cut!

I've been fairly vocal about my skepticism of this film -- and about Guy Ritchie as the director's choice -- mainly because this film, perhaps more than any other of the Disney Renaissance, has the most to "fix." And I'd like to start with this:

My Thesis: For me, this live-action adaptation was a little clunky for the first part -- up until right after the "Prince Ali" sequence. Starting with the scene where Aladdin and the Genie are presented to the Sultan and co., the film starts to leave the animated film behind and deviate into it's own version, and that's where the film gets stronger.

Point #1: The Pop Culture Happy Hour [PCHH] team point out that this film has two audiences: first, kids, since it's Disney (and they'll love it--magic, mystery, action, catchy songs, etc.). Second, adults who grew up during the Disney Renaissance and love* animated film (and, for them, the film is "a swing and a miss").
*For the record, I grew up during the Disney Renaissance and I have oddly vivid memories of belting the soundtrack in the car, on the way to and from swim practice. However, I didn't love it as much as The Little Mermaid (swimmer with a tense relationship with her father) and Beauty and the Beast (bookworm). It remains one of my favorite films to teach precisely because I don't love it. I was taken aback by the PCHH's seeming fondness for the animated version, but maybe I misinterpreted their reaction. 

They made several excellent points that I agree with, which I'll get to in a minute, but I'm going to start with their claim that (and I'm paraphrasing), "if you liked the Beauty and the Beast live-action, you'll love this one." Because Disney is a capitalist, corporate machine needlessly churning out shallow "live-action" remakes of their animated hits.

And I don't think that's entirely fair. I'm not saying they're not doing this to make a profit -- that would be hopelessly naive of me. I freely admit that they're (1) capitalizing on the fact that children who grew up during the Disney Renaissance are now adults with expendable income and (2) capitalizing on the fact that those Disney Renaissance kids probably have kids of their own and wouldn't it be great to expose a new generation to these blockbuster stories? Of course.

But that's the corporate side. I think, from the creative side (and I have no idea how these co-exist and interact within the Company), the directors and writers and actors are trying to "fix" some of the most glaring issues with these films. I did love Beauty and the Beast, because I appreciated what Emma Watson was trying to bring to the character of Belle. Do I think it was perfect? Absolutely not. But I appreciated how they fixed plot-holes and attempted to flesh out the backstories.

Because here's the thing: I think (the creative team at) Disney has the Herculean task of trying to update and modernize the animated films (re: fix the racism/sexism/classism) while still maintaining a story that looks and feels like the "original," Disney story.
I realize the obvious question might be, "Why just re-tell the same story if you're not doing anything different?" and it's a fair question. And I'm not going to go too deep into that, because it's a Pandora's box of scholarship and criticism on fairy tale retellings and what works and what doesn't. And the common theme always seems to be: either the changes were too much, or not enough.
Look what happened when rumors started to circulate that Disney's live-action Mulan wouldn't have songs: you got a plethora of articles like Mashable's "Disney's live-action Mulan won't have songs so what is the point of anything?"
And the PCHH team point out that maybe the film would have been better if it had made Jasmine the focus of the story -- that it would have been riskier and bolder and more innovative to make her the hero. (They point out that Naomi Scott is the strongest vocalist -- and she is; I 100% agree -- and that her arc constitutes the biggest change to the story -- also 100% true.) And maybe it would have been "better" (whatever that means) -- but I can guarantee that there would be so. much. griping. (from men) about how Disney is forcing a feminist agenda and hey! the story is called "Aladdin and the Magic Lamp," remember?

Which--yeah. Let's focus on that for a minute.

Point #2: In the podcast, the PCHH team mentions that the film -- and, I think, the animated version as well -- is a "fantasy of Orientalism." They also indicate that Disney half-assed the cultural authenticity, because what culture, exactly, is the film supposed to authentically represent?

Okay, fair point. This is one of the reasons why I'm not sure Guy Ritchie was the best directorial choice. If you're making a movie set in the Middle East, perhaps your director should be, I don't know, Middle Eastern? (And, for sure, Ashman and Menken intended the film to be set in Baghdad. But then Roy Disney pointed out, you know, the Gulf War, so...) The PCHH team point to Black Panther as an example of a non-white fantasy world that works because of the amount of painstaking research that went into that film. And, I think, also because Ryan Coogler directed it.

But here's the thing: if this story -- "Aladdin and the Magic Lamp" -- seems like a "fantasy of Orientalism," it's because it always has been.  Mari Ness has an excellent article on the history of this story, but here's the gist of it: in the grand tradition of male fairy-tale writers appropriating stories (I'm looking at you, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm), a Frenchman named Antoine Galland "translated" (re: rewrote to make more exotic and foreign) "A Thousand and One Nights." But there are a few stories -- one of which is "Aladdin" -- which aren't in the original collection of stories. Galland, scholars believe, made it up to be a story of social mobility (like, you know, "Cinderella").

So, yeah. There's basically no "authentic" Arabic version of "Aladdin and the Magic Lamp" that Disney appropriated and butchered back in 1992, because the story itself has never authentically represented anything.

Point #3: Which is not to say the 1992 animated film was perfect and great. Far from it. This is something the NY Times article above highlights really well. And this is something I think the PCHH team failed to give the 2019 version credit for.

Again, Aladdin is one of my favorite films to teach because the stereotypes are just. so. obvious. There's the opening scene and song of course, with the line "it's barbaric, but hey it's home," originally intended to represent the fact that "they'll cut off your ear if they don't like your face" -- a very savage and cruel depiction of the people of Agrabah. The lyrics were changed, of course, to comment on the "heat" of the Middle East, but the word "barbaric" was kept. (Mari Ness also has a great comprehensive piece on the production history of Aladdin -- well worth the read.)
There's the stereotypical bazaar scene with the sword-swallower and the fire-eater.
There's the fact that every male character, aside from Aladdin, as a large nose and facial hair.
There's the inaccurate portrayal of sharia law -- that a first-time offending thief will have their hand cut off as punishment.
There's Jasmine -- a member of the highest social class! -- prancing around in a bikini top and MC Hammer pants.
There's more -- but it all works to create a hot mess of at-worst-racist, at-best-lazy stereotypes of a homogenous Middle East.

That is, I think, slightly better in the 2019 live-action version:
--There is no mention made of cutting off anyone's hands for thieving.
--Disney changed the frame narrative to eliminate the crooked merchant (really the Genie in disguise) selling you broken hookahs and Dead Sea Tupperware. Now, you get the Genie telling his story -- emphasizing the storytelling tradition.
--We still spend a lot of time in the markets of Agrabah, but we've toned down the exotic sideshows -- there was, I think, only one fire-performer, and that was at night during a festival. (Although Aladdin was still one of the only characters to NOT have facial hair. Sigh.)
--There were no overt references to religion -- no lazy references to Allah that were just thrown in to make things seem More Foreign.
--The Sultan's palace did not look like the Taj Mahal.
--There were people in the palace! Like servants and handmaidens and guards! (These were conspicuously absent in the animated film. No really. It was like Jafar and the Sultan and Jasmine were the only ones living in that big-ass palace.)
--Jasmine had a FRIEND! (Okay. This isn't really cultural or racial, but I was really excited about it, because so often Disney Princesses don't get human friends. They get animal sidekicks. Like, only Pocahontas (Nakoma, and she wasn't a great friend) and Tiana (Lottie, whom I LOVE AND ADORE DON'T @ ME) get human friends.)

These are little things, I know, and maybe they don't add up to "enough." But if kids watch this version and get a positive representation of Middle Eastern characters and culture, that's a good thing in my book. Which brings me to...

Point #4: Naomi Scott's Jasmine is supposed to be different from Aladdin (and the other residents of Agrabah).

One of the complaints -- again, about the cultural authenticity of the film -- that the PCHH team had was that the film didn't seem to know what it was, as evidenced by the Bollywood dancing interspersed throughout.

This was actually one of the things my husband and I discussed at length. Having read about this film and followed the development of it, I knew what Disney was going for -- but I think they didn't go as far as they could have/thought they did.

One of the things we actually talked about last semester in my class was this interview Entertainment Weekly did with Julie Ann Crommett, the Vice President of Multicultural Engagement. I fully admit that if you have to seek the answers out in extra content (like this interview) then you haven't done your job -- but I got what they were trying to do with Jasmine's character here. Crommett says:

"I think what’s interesting about Naomi was that — and we had a deep conversation about it — there are South Asian individuals who associate with Aladdin and with Jasmine as well, and I think there was a sense of we should reflect some part of the community in the principle cast so that we’re actually being inclusive of who sees themselves and identifies with this text…What we’ve done intentionally with Naomi’s character as part of the plot is that her mother is actually from a different land, and it’s very clear in the movie that her mother is from a different land that’s not Agrabah and that’s drawing on a lot of her motivations in terms of how she sees the future of Agrabah as a welcoming place that embraces people from other places because her mother was from somewhere else."

My takeaways from this: one, Naomi Scott is a British actress of Indian descent. Two, Disney is acknowledging that Aladdin is an important representation for different people from that region -- Iranian and Indian, for example -- who want to see themselves depicted. (Primarily because, hi. Aladdin is Disney's only film for people from that part of the world.) Three, to me, Jasmine's mother (another dead unnamed mother...not great, Disney) is supposed to be Indian, although that's not entirely clear in the film. IDK what land she's supposed to be from, and maybe it's clear to others, but...Four, this makes Jasmine half-Indian, half-Agrabah-ian(?). Five, this explains the Indian influence throughout the film, as evidenced in Rajah's name, the costuming (less restrictive than Arabic, I think), the colors, and the Bollywood dancing, which does occur largely in the palace. The Sultan (and a significant portion of Agrabah) are coded as Arabic -- from their names (Hakeem, the captain of the palace guard), their accents, and the script on the laws of Agrabah that the Genie pulls out at the end.
Again, I was able to glean this from the film because I'd read Crommett's interview (and others). But I can easily understand how the PCHH team would view it as odd, because it doesn't entirely come through in the text of the film. (Which is one of my biggest beefs with the new Star Wars trilogies, but that's a rant for another day.)

Finally--the general consensus from the podcast was that Will Smith was miscast. Which...IDK. One of the first things my husband said as we were walking out was that Will Smith has a thankless job, because it is really tough to follow Robin Williams. Which, yes. Robin Williams embodied that role -- and set the stage for big-names being cast in animated films and being allowed to ad-lib and improvise. Because of him, we got Nathan Lane and Ernie Sabella as Timon and Pumbaa; Eddie Murphy as Mushu; James Woods as Hades. William's energy (and mania) infused that role with something that just cannot be duplicated.
And because Will Smith is a stronger rapper than he is singer, the Genie's songs felt a little...lackluster to me. The PCHH team offer a really good explanation about why the songs were slowed down, and I agree with that. Musically, I will always prefer Robin Williams -- and even James Monroe Iglehart (the Genie in the OBC of Aladdin).
But comically? I think that once Ritchie and Co. started deviating from the script of the animated film, the live-action film got stronger. That "jam scene"? Absolutely hilarious. The party scene? Also funny. Even the scene where Genie is trying to distract Dahlia and ends up taking her for a stroll is delightful because it's different. We, the audience, aren't thinking about Robin William's inflection of that line and comparing it to Will Smith's because it's new content.
I don't know who else I would have cast as the Genie -- while I think Billy Porter would have been a good choice, he doesn't have the star-power that Will Smith does -- but quibbling about what-ifs in casting doesn't get us anywhere.

I'm also going to leave alone Glen Weldon's point about the Genie being gay because he's a liminal trickster figure because...well, I don't have a background in queer studies. I will say this, though: it's not an unprecedented idea (see, for example, this piece in The Atlantic about how most Disney movies are pro-gay or Sam Baltimore's chapter on Howard Ashman and Queer Orientalism), but it's not a popular argument in Disney scholarship. And, just like Merida and Elsa aren't gay because they show no interest in heterosexual pairings, the Genie isn't gay because Robin Williams infused some characters into his dialogue for the animated character. (Will Smith's character is very clearly paired off into a heterosexual partnership.) And while genies/jinn may traditionally be shape-shifting trickster figures with fluid identities and sexual orientation, there is very little that is "traditional" about the genie in the Aladdin stories. The genie of the Aladdin stories isn't so much a trickster figure as he is a symbol and signal of the magic and mysticism of the Exotic East.

Phew. That turned out to be much longer than I expected, but I had all the thoughts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go download "Speechless" from the Aladdin soundtrack and start listening to my new power-ballad on repeat.