While I'm not the biggest Star Wars fan, I did really enjoy Tran's role in Rian Johnson's Episode VIII; to see her "more than sidelined," to use Julia Alexander's words, in Episode IX, was more than disappointing.
But what's interesting to me is that this film, despite the plot summary, is being billed (and marketed, I'm sure) as a princess film.
Let's take a look at the plot summary from IMDB:
"In a realm known as Lumandra, a re-imagined Earth inhabited by an ancient civilization, a warrior named Raya is determined to find the last dragon."
And from Wikipedia:
"A lone warrior sets out to find the last dragon in existence and save the kingdom of Kumandra from the villainous Drunn."
With the exception of Mulan, and *maybe* Moana, Disney movies don't usually focus on warriors. That is, typically, Disney Animations studios films skew female-centric, with the Disney Princess, Disney Fairies and Frozen franchises anchoring the studio. Pixar, on the other hand, skews predominantly male. While there are exceptions to both of course (e.g., The Lion King for Disney; Brave and Inside Out for Pixar), the generalizations hold true.
And, for better or for worse (and people love to point out the "worse"), Disney princess movies are a staple of American childhood and culture. So it's interesting to me that Raya and the Last Dragon is being billed as a princess movie.
This movie, then, has the potential to be groundbreaking for Disney. Awkwafina, who will co-start with Tran, has already praised the movie's "sisterhood":
Two things to note: (1) the clip features Cassie Steele, a British-Filipino actress who was originally cast in the role -- wonder what happened there? and
(2) sisterhood, on the heels of Frozen, is nothing new for Disney. It's worth pointing out that of 14 (un)official princesses -- only four of them have biological siblings (Ariel, Merida, and Anna & Elsa) and only three of them have sisters (Merida has brothers). The only film where sisterhood features a significant role is, of course, Frozen, as Ariel's sisters are largely irrelevant to the plot. And even in Frozen, Anna was intended to be the lead, with Elsa originally slated for the villain role. Jennifer Lee, thankfully, updated that narrative, and we have the two empowered characters we know and love today.
And while I don't think that Raya and Sisu are biological sisters (plot twist?!), this might actually be *more* important -- because Disney Princesses don't really get "friends." Sure, they get animal sidekicks and they may even get magical helpers, but not *real* friends. The only two princesses who have female friends are Pocahontas (Nakoma) and Tiana (Charlotte) and I would argue that only Tiana and Charlotte are *real* friends (Nakoma is largely a plot device), however historically unlikely their friendship would be.
So if this film deliberately features two female leads (as opposed to an accidental female lead with Elsa), who aren't biologically related, and focuses on their friendship/dynamic and both of them are Asian women? Like I said -- groundbreaking.
But here's where it gets a bit tricky for me...in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Kelly Marie Tran revealed,
"She is someone who is technically a princess, but I think that what's really cool about this project, about this character specifically, is that everyone's trying to flip the narrative on what it means to be a princess...Raya is totally a warrior. When she was a kid, she was excited to get her sword. And she grows up to be a really badass, gritty warrior and can really take care of herself."
Okay, what's the problem? How could this be anything less than great?
Fair question. I agree -- Tran's points about Disney trying to "flip the narrative on what it means to be a princess" is important -- and definitely in line with their recent marketing campaigns for the Princess franchise. And trust me -- I am all for strong, empowered, warrior characters.
My concern is that Disney has a tendency to Otherize its Princesses of Color -- to mark them as different from the typical white, European Princesses in significant ways. As early as 2004, Celeste Lacroix was pointing out that Disney's non-white heroines -- Pocahontas, Esmeralda, and, to some extent, Jasmine. Lacroix's point is that the non-White Princesses are often more sexualized and more associated with nature than the White Princesses, reinforcing the normative superiority of Whites. That is -- non-white Princesses don't get to just be princesses: they don't get to wear floofy ballgowns and have servants.
We can see this trend continue in the films that were released even after Lacroix's publication: Rapunzel, Merida, and Anna & Elsa, while all more active and empowered women, still wear ballgowns and live in castles. While Tiana and Moana may not be hypersexualized, they are definitely associated with Nature (Tiana turns into a frog and spends a good deal of time in the Louisiana bayou, and Moana is chosen by the Ocean to restore the heart of Te Fiti and give new life to a barren lava field) and don't wear ballgowns or live in castles.
Raya, it seems, would continue this disparity: I'm guessing she won't be wearing a ballgown as a warrior or living in a castle, as Entertainment Weekly also reveals that "Raya (voiced by Tran) is the daughter of the Chief of the Heart Lands, one of the five lands in the fictional kingdom of Kumandra. Years ago, dragons and humans lived in harmony, until monsters known as Druun invaded, forcing the dragons to sacrifice themselves and save humanity. Raya's father was also killed, and the film follows her journey as a warrior to find the last dragon, who she believes can save Kumandra."
This is where it gets tricky: on the one hand, I'm definitely not advocating that we continue telling solely European fairy tales, and the fact that this is a story deeply rooted in Southeast Asian culture is so very important. I'm also not saying that we should impose cultural inaccuracies as an empty gesture just for the sake of "equality." That is, we shouldn't impose castles and ballgowns and pretty passive princesses on a culture where castles and ballgowns simply don't exist. And I'm also not necessarily advocating for a return to pretty princess stories.
But I would maybe like to see some blurring of the boundaries: a White warrior Princess in the vein of Mulan and Moana and a Non-White Princess who does live in a castle and maybe doesn't wear ballgowns, but is unabashedly royal. And those Princesses of Color don't necessarily have to represent a real culture: while Pocahontas and Mulan are based on real people/people of legend, and Moanaseeks to explain The Long Pause in Polynesian culture, Jasmine's Agrabah is fictional (sort of) as is Naveen's Maldonia.
Disney can create fictional worlds which can be ruled by characters of any color -- which I think I would like to see a bit more of. Maybe it would raise questions I haven't yet thought of...
The bottom line is that I'm still really excited about this movie, and I'm probably even more excited about Kelly Marie Tran's starring role. After all the hate and vitriol she received from toxic Star Wars fans, she's deserves a bit of pixie dust.
This afternoon, my husband I were fortunate enough to have a Double-Feature Date Afternoon. We saw Knives Out first -- which was a fantastic WhoDunIt and just an overall delightful romp -- and then saw Frozen 2.
Disclaimer: I haven't read any reviews and managed to stay largely spoiler-free. I had read some "first reactions" -- those Twitter responses about people's early responses to the film which are largely vague and non-specific and which don't give away any specific details -- and that was all I knew. Most of them were positive -- I feel like there was one lukewarm response which basically said it "was good, but not as good as the first," (important to note that it was written by a man) -- which reassured me. Disney sequels are, after all, usually things that go straight-to-video and aren't very good. (The only sequels I can think of are The Rescuers Down Under -- because The Rescuers were. my. jam. -- and Ralph Breaks the Internet...somebody correct me if I'm wrong.) I knew that the film was darker, had supposedly matured with its audience, and that a good deal of people believed it was unnecessary.
I have thoughts. Lots of thoughts.
But here's the gist of them: Frozen II is not the movie I thought it was going to be, and that's okay, because it turned out to be the Disney Princess Movie I needed. And, more importantly, I think it's the Disney Princess Movie that I needed to see as a young girl, that the brand needs, and that little girls (and boys) need.
Spoilery thoughts below.
For the longest time, Cinderella was a film I hated to teach. I didn't remember much about the film, but I remembered that I didn't like it. And, after all, Cinderella is the most popular princess, so anything that's popular can't possibly live up to the hype. (It's this mindset that caused me to refuse to read Harry Potter for years. Whoops.)
But then I watched it a few years ago when a student wanted to write a really fascinating paper on gender transgression in the 1950 film. But when I read her proposal, I was skeptical: The King has a stereotypically feminine obsession with grand babies? And acts uber-masculine to make up for this transgression? I don't remember ANY of this.... So, I rewatched it. And promptly gave the student the go-ahead to write a really fascinating and unique argument. (To this day, it's still one of my favorites.)
The point is -- Cinderella is not what I remember -- and Cinderella (the character) isn't quite as passive and spineless as academic critics sometimes want us to believe. So I added it to my syllabus.
And re-watching pieces of it yesterday (three times) just made me think of something:
#1 -- Cinderella is actually pretty relatable. I mean...this is me basically every morning (just sub a dog and two tiny humans for the birds):
#2 -- This may be the most unrealistic part of the whole movie. She sleeps on two braids all night and has magically beautiful wavy hair when she takes them out? Nope. Her hair would be kinked and frizzed all over the place. Now that's Disney magic.
One of the things I get asked a lot, once people know about the courses I teach, is whether I'll let my own kids watch Disney movies. "Surely," they say, "you can't talk about what's wrong with a movie like Cinderella and still think it's okay for your kids to watch?"
To which I respond, "Of course I can."
Because even though I can put on my Professor Cap and analyze why Cinderella presents outdated gender roles from the 1950s, I can still also see the good in it. I see a female-driven narrative with a protagonist who is unflinchingly and unfailingly cheerful and hopeful.
And, perhaps what's more important, is that my children will have a wide variety of characters to watch in their Disney [Princess] movies. For the earliest part of my childhood, the only princesses I had were Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora -- homogenous by even the loosest definition of the word. But I grew up with the Disney Princesses -- I was the target demographic for The Little Mermaid, and while I can't attest to how watching that film repeatedly unknowingly influenced me, I can speak to what I knowingly took away from that film. And my children -- my daughter -- will have even more variety than I did, both in terms of racial identity and physical appearance as well as in character and achievement.
Which is part of the reason why we're watching the Disney princess movies in reverse. While Toy Story 3 was my daughter's first Disney movie (mainly because it was on TV over a weekend when I was struggling with some first trimester ickiness), Moana is the first Disney movie she watched when she was old enough to be aware of it.
What really got me thinking of all of this (again) was the other day, when we were finishing up Frozen. My daughter's seen parts of it before -- it's been on TV often enough -- but this was the first time that we actually sat down and watched it. She's also learned who the characters are from several Frozen books we have -- Anna Loves Elsa is her current favorite, I think, but my husband reads her the Pop-Up Adventure book and she loves it -- and connects Elsa with snow (which makes my heart happy).
But then we got to this scene:
You know? One of the BEST parts of the whole movie where Anna has a choice -- she can save herself by running to Kristoff or she can sacrifice herself by running to Elsa and she chooses Elsa?
To be honest, my daughter was a little concerned at this point -- she didn't quite understand why Anna was so cold or why her fingers were turning blue and she had snowflakes on her cheeks. And when Anna froze, and Elsa flung herself on her sister out of grief -- my daughter turned to look at me, as if searching for reassurance that everything would be okay. Yes, she'll learn one day that a Disney movie means that everything turns out okay for The Good Guys, but in this instance, I just chose to tell her that Elsa was worried about her sister, and so she gave her a hug, because that's what you do when you love someone and you want them to know that.
And I watched my daughter watch Elsa hug Anna -- I watched her face as Anna's act of true love melted her frozen heart, and the happy ending arrived. Maybe, to my daughter, it was the hug that melted Anna -- not Anna's selfless act; after all, she's not even 2 -- but either way, she got the gist of it. And, right before Anna punched Hans, my daughter came up and gave me a hug.
Now. Of course my daughter has hugged me before. But it's usually reflexive, or something she seeks out when she falls, or something she does when she's asked, as if to prove that she can do it, like say her name or identify a color. But connecting the act of hugging with a voluntary display of affection...that's been a bit elusive.
Not anymore. Disney helped my daughter make that connection. Why wouldn't I want her to learn that?
I think of all the other lessons Disney can teach my daughter, and they're lessons that I want her to learn.
She loves Moana -- maybe even more than Frozen. (And I'm a proud Mama Bear that she can articulately say Moana, Maui, and hawk -- she wanted to know the words for the pictures she saw.) But I think of all the positive messages that movie can teach her. Like this one. This is her favorite scene in the movie (well, I think it is. She can't really articulate "favorites" yet, but she does ask for the "turtle scene"):
When I watch her watch this part of the movie, this is what I see: I see her anxious for the baby turtle -- even though she doesn't quite understand why, she knows Baby Moana is concerned for it, and she's concerned -- I see her watch Baby Moana protect it and care for it, show compassion for another living creature, and I see her watch Baby Moana save the turtle, reuniting it with it's parents (Squirt from Finding Nemo maybe?!).
And, again: how could I not want my daughter to learn that message?
Yes, I know Disney isn't perfect. Believe me, I know. I spend a good deal of my non-teaching-work-time reading about how awful Disney is for kids and why we shouldn't be exposing our kids to their messages.
But then I think about my daughter's spontaneous hug and watching her learn the value of caring for an animal and...the bad messages don't seem so bad. After all, it's not like she won't have me harping in her ear about why the "bad" things aren't that great ("Remember what Queen Elsa said! You can't marry a man you just met! Remember how Kristoff asked Anna's permission before he kissed her? Consent is an important thing!"). I'm totally going to be "that mom." But I guess, to me, the good far outweighs the potentially bad.
I read it for the first time in the Fall of 2015, when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I had been mulling over the idea of a Disney-Princess focused course and, after reading the book, I revamped my entire course in a few weeks. It was all well and good to read Orenstein's thoughts and experiences, but I wanted to discuss it, to talk through the details of her argument, to see what other educated, intelligent individuals thought. And I am so lucky to teach at a university where my students (for the most part) really do engage and grapple with ideas like these.
Since my daughter was born, I've found myself returning to her ideas over and over again, wondering if and when Orenstein's ideas will start to apply to her. Some of her points already resonate with me more than they did the first time I read the book -- and I imagine that as my daughter gets older, and as I continue to reread the book, different points and ideas will strike me as relevant.
For example -- in Chapter 3, "Pinked," Orenstein ponders the question, "Why has girlhood become so monochromatic?" She muses, "It's not that pink is intrinsically bad, but it is such a tiny slice of the rainbow, and, though it may celebrate girlhood in one way, it also repeatedly and firmly fuses girls' identity to appearance" (34). She points out that "children weren't color-coded at all until the early twentieth-century" and that, even then, pink was associated more with boys (it was a "muted" version of the powerful red) and blue was more of a girl's color (which is why Disney's Wendy and Alice wear blue dresses). All of this leads up to a discussion of Sesame Street's introduction of Abby Cadabby in 2006:
From L to R: Abby, Zoe, & Rosita
Now, in 2015, I hadn't watched Sesame Street in 25 years so, clearly, I had no context for this. Now, the 25-50 minutes of screen time that my daughter watches is the 1-2 episodes of Sesame Street that we watch in the evenings. (And it's surprisingly entertaining y'all.) The fact that there weren't really female muppets in the cast of Sesame Street wasn't something I had thought about -- and definitely not something I remember from when I was a kid. From what I do remember, Little Me didn't really think of muppets as having a gender identity -- they were just muppets. Bert and Ernie were clearly male, but Big Bird? Grover? It didn't really matter if they were male or female.
But Abby? Clearly female. And here are Orenstein's thoughts:
"Workshop executives have denied they created Abby with a licensing bonanza in mind; the fact that she is so infinitely marketable, that she dovetailed precisely with the pink-fairy-princess megatrend among girls, was apparently a merely happy coincidence.[...] At every geographic outpost from Disneyland to Sesame Street, executives described the same "taboo-breaking" vision, with an identical self-righteous justification about 'honoring the range of play patterns girls can have.' All this pink-and-pretty, they claimed, was about giving girls more choices, not fewer." (41)
Orenstein's point is what she identifies as the "pink factor" -- this idea in corporate marketing that if you make a regular item, and then you make it in pink, girls will want the pink version. Like the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe:
The "traditional" one is the red and yellow one--but of course there's a pink version (for girls). There's also a pink princess version that has glitter because...why not?
Me being me, I've pretty much refused to have the pink version of things in my house if there's a "boy" color available (which is usually not overly blue, but more primary colors). My daughter has the red car and loves it. Because primary colors are not inherently masculine and pink is not inherently feminine. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't care what color her toy is -- she just loves that she can ride around in her car like Mommy and Daddy.
So when we first turned on Sesame Street -- in a moment of desperation because my newborn son was crying and I needed something to distract my daughter -- I'll admit that I was curious as to which characters she would be drawn to: would Abby be her favorite just because she was "the girl" or the pretty pink fairy?
The answer? Nope. Not even a little bit.
Her favorites, in order, are:
(1) Elmo
(2) Cookie Monster (although he's a very close second -- and depending on the day, he might be first)
(3) Grover
(4) The Count
(5) Big Bird (or, "Duck" as she calls him)
(6) Abby
And I really think Abby is only on the list because she's so heavily featured. Elmo is definitely her favorite: while he's featured the most, I also think there's something about his character that speaks to toddlers. She loves Cookie Monster because -- well? Who doesn't? He OmNomNomz cookies! And The Count is so high up because of the counting segment where they encourage kids to stomp along.
Maybe when she's older, her favorites will change -- and maybe it will be because of gender differences. But right now? I'd like to think that, like me, she doesn't think monsters and muppets have genders. Elmo is just the red monster who laughs and dances a happy dance when he learns something new. Cookie Monster is just the blue monster who loves to eat cookies (again, who doesn't?). And Abby is just the pink monster with wings who waves a magic wand around.
Right now, Elmo is the stuffed animal she places on her chair each night before bed (along with Beast, but that's a different post) so she knows exactly where it is the next morning.
