This movie is extremely different from what I was expecting, which is odd since my expectations were neither rigid nor conventional, so I should have been a tough audience to surprise. Ralph Bakshi, however, is full of surprises, and his creativity knows no bounds. Unfortunately, creativity sometimes needs some constraints in order to be understandable to those who are not the thinker, and Wizards lacks the lucidity it requires. The best example of this is how the film suggests an army in a fantasy world improves its performance simply by watching a projected film reel of Nazis to get pumped up, without any understanding of the Nazi party’s tenants. It’s a strange idea, but the way it is expressed visually makes it stranger: the reel isn’t projected onto any particular space, instead appearing behind the army as though the Nazi film filled the air and/or the soldiers in the fantasy world were becoming part of the film. This isn’t simply a matter of openness of interpretation – this is cinematically illegible, and it is typical of the rest of the movie, which seems to follow dream logic more than narrative logic and expects the audience to buy into many unexplained, confusing plot points. When this is combined with the bizarre characters, unsettling sexual imagery, and poorly executed climax, the result is a film that, in spite of its inspired artistry, has little substance and no coherence, making it regrettably difficult to tolerate.
Thanks to Tim Burton, this movie is sometimes called “the good Alice in Wonderland.” I understand why – nostalgia goggles can do that to even the best of us. The problem is that this movie just isn’t very good. Sure, the 2010 film has problems and may be highly annoying to some, but at least its story is actually a story. The original Lewis Carroll story isn’t a story. It’s a drug trip. And that’s what this movie is as well.
Now, I don’t want to fault the movie for problems it could not help but inherit from its source material, which is the only reason I’m giving this movie such a high rating – if Disney had come up with the story, I’d be giving it two and a half stars at best. I’m still not even sure that the other elements of the movie merit this rating, because a lot of the film is just unbearable. Surely Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum could have been done in a way that’s less excruciatingly irritating, and surely certain parts of the story could have been given a few more small splashed of humor. The soundtrack is so-so, with some songs I really like a lot, others I think do the job just well enough, and others I find either forgettable or stupid.
So, I’m giving this a nice rating because of two redeeming qualities: first is the casting of a few of the main characters. I really like the Cheshire Cat in this movie, and the Mad Hatter is one of the great Ed Winn performances. The one who really steals the show, however, is Alice, voiced by Kathryn Beaumont. Her voice is absolutely perfect for the part, and perhaps just perfect in general – I could easily listen to it all day. The second redeeming quality is the visual style, as this might just be, in some respects at least, the most visually pleasing animated film I have ever seen. It’s got all of the curves and colors one would want a trippy wonderland to have, and its style also serves to mark its particular moment in animation history. The resulting film is one that I don’t enjoy watching very much – it was a struggle to finish it quite frankly – but I do enjoy looking at it and listening to it, so I’ll let it slide.
I think part of the reason why I watched this movie is that I was really in the mood to take a break from the Disney live-action remakes and return to an original fairy-tale movie. I’m not sure that The Last Unicorn was a good choice though seeing as how it contains so many good and bad elements mixed together, often within the same departments, so I don’t know what to make of it. The story is a very bizarre one – highly problematic and quite confusing – yet it contains clever little ideas and characters that make me jealous I hadn’t thought of them myself. The storytelling through the visuals is particularly unclear at times, yet often the animation perfectly captures exactly the feeling the scene ought to have. The visual style is particularly disjunctive, with character designs and animations that look irritatingly cheap and flat in comparison to Disney’s work, yet the backgrounds are absolutely gorgeous. I’m inclined to say that the soundtrack isn’t very good, yet the film’s theme song is stuck in my head, and I have found I quite enjoy it. The cast may boast some greats like Mia Farrow, but she is oddly overshadowed by the more memorable performances of the bad actors, whose delivery was unlike anything I have ever heard referred to as “acting.”
My problem with this movie is that, every time I think I really like it, the scene that follows always ruins it. Some of the characters seem fun at first, but eventually get annoying. The last half of the movie has one mediocre song after another, painfully drawing out the film (even though the run-time is only about an hour and a half). Because of how much I like looking at the movie, and because of how much I appreciate most of the story, I kept trying to look on the bright side and only see the good in the film, but then something comes up like the tree creature with big breasts and I’m reminded that this is just a Rankin-Bass movie – I can’t expect quality. At the very least I was hoping this would be a good film for little girls to enjoy – a movie that’s wholesome enough to merit its “G” rating – but today it would have to cut some parts or change some lines just to get a “PG” rating, thus alienating the viewers who might as well be its target audience. Consequently, The Last Unicorn strikes me as the kind of movie that’s very good at creating nostalgia for those who grew up with it, but doesn’t hold up for viewers who find it later.
But do you know what this movie really needs? A Disney live-action remake. Seriously. This is the one child-oriented animated film that has enough negative elements to need a re-tooling, and enough positive elements to be made into a great story if it’s put in the right hands. Most of the main issues are honestly really, really easy to fix, and the story itself isn’t that bad – it’s just the storytelling that’s poor. Heck, the story even works well as a criticism of other fairy-tales, and it lends itself easily to feminist interpretations, so it’s the perfect subject for the Disney remake project. Sure, Disney would have to buy the rights from another company, but the result would still be, without a doubt, the best of the live-action Disney remakes to date.
Approval Voting, Plurality, Plurality with Runoff, Approval/Disapproval Voting, Majority Judgment, Borda Count, Cumulative Voting, and Range/Score Voting are just a few of the voting systems that have been theorized in social choice theory and/or practiced by democracies. The fairness of a democratic election is something that many of us take for granted, but there are actually a lot of problems with many of the most common methods. Consider Approval/Disapproval Voting, in which the voter expresses which candidates he/she would accept and which candidates he/she would not – essentially the thumbs-up/thumbs-down system of Reddit (as I understand it). For candidates in an election, it would make some amount of sense for the candidate who most people gave a “thumbs up,” even though he/she wasn’t their favorite, to surpass the candidate whom many loved most and many hated. In this scenario, most people would get a leader of whom they approved, and fewer people would get the candidate they hated, which is fine for politics. When assessing art, however, this seems inappropriate, as exemplified by the fact that the high-quality (but highly divisive) La La Land has a lower score on Rotten Tomatoes than the objectively “good enough” Moana.
The problem with Rotten Tomatoes is that it allows the big movie studios to create the illusion that their films are highly praised simply by making movies that are safe, simple, and reliably passable. Moana is a perfect example of this, because approximately 3% of this movie is special and original, whereas 97% is an old, faithful “hero’s journey” that any movie buff can’t help but find predictable. There is nothing particularly bad about Moana, but nearly all of its parts seem to exist purely to serve their function in the regular machinery of the standard animated adventure. I’ll grant that the twist ending (if it can be called such) did surprise me, but the fifteen minutes preceding it went exactly as I predicted, creating a sense that the writers were merely lazy watchmakers. It seems Clements and Musker assumed they were the only people to have seen the original Star Wars, and I hate to break it to them, but I’ve seen that movie too – and I felt like I’d already seen Moana. While Frozen has certain elements that are quite predictable and embarrassingly trite, at least it manages to find the right balance of tribute and criticism in regards to earlier Disney films, whereas this film lets Maui joke about its adherence to the old formulas without making changes to address this criticism.
Sure, audiences may enjoy this movie a lot – for now – but eventually people will be shocked by just how little of it is memorable. The comedy is nearly all predictable, conforming to the same comic style that has made nearly every CGI family film from the past fifteen years feel bland and lacking in wit, but the jokes still got me at times … I just can’t remember them. The soundtrack has songs that are perfectly serviceable and that employ clever lyrics, but I can’t remember most of them either. I would go so far as to say that there are no more than three memorable songs on the soundtrack, and that’s being gracious. (This film’s “I Want” song is still stuck in my head, but I’m not happy about it – it’s far too contemporary and “poppy” in style, so it’s sure to become dated.) Most of the performances are rather forgettable as well, with only The Rock having his fair share of fun in the recording booth. That being said, as cliché and forgettable as it may have been, the music and story still worked on me, creating truly beautiful and moving moments at times that I hope I will remember.
The reason why I would recommend this movie, in spite of all I have just said, is that it has many strong moments that everyone should see, albeit in spite of itself. True, most of the visuals have the usual, boring “Disney CGI” look – what one would expect from a PIXAR short – but some scenes threw the usual conventions away in favor of artistry. As a giant crab sings the almost anti-melodic “Shiny,” the lights go out, and everything starts to glow in neon colors against dark blues and black. In terms of visuals, this is about the best I’ve seen from any CG-animated film, and it is accompanied nicely by the portion of “You’re Welcome” that discards any sense of realism for a properly theatrical musical number. The latter example makes use of Hawaiian art styles to add a special flare, making for one moment in Moana that actually makes it quite distinct in comparison to other films in its genre. The “You’re Welcome” number is also separated from the rest of the film in that it feels like a Disney classic, as though this was the only song for which Miranda was given more than ten minutes to write it. It even seems to borrow from Mary Poppins‘ “Jolly Holiday,” giving it a particularly timeless feeling, yet it still feels in keeping with Miranda’s background in freestyle rap music, ultimately seeming to suggest that Dick van Dyke was rapping in Mary Poppins. Think about that one for a while – the time of the specific moment in Poppins to which I’m referring is 48:05, for those of you playing along at home.
It’s fairly odd to see this kind of film coming from Clements and Musker. This is the team behind Aladdin, Hercules, and The Little Mermaid, among others, so making a merely passable film seems beneath them. On the other hand, this is their first time making a CG film, so hopefully their future endeavors won’t have this same sense of insecurity and will have the kind of creativity continuously that this film has sporadically.
I usually avoid explaining the plots to films in my reviews, but just this once, here’s my summary of the story of Ridley Scott’s Legend:
The beautiful Princess Lily is never seen in her castle, nor do we ever see her royal parents, for some reason. Instead, she prefers to spend her time with the lower class or out in the woods for some reason. Lily is a completely innocent girl, yet she likes to pull cruel tricks on friends of hers for some reason. She’s madly in love with a boy named Jack for some reason, and he’s a wild, beastly jungle boy who likes to be among nature and talk with the animals for some reason. Jack decides to take her to see some unicorns, which are very rare creatures for some reason, but then she decides to touch one for some reason. Unicorns must never be touched by mortals – even innocent mortals like Lily – for some reason. She touches it anyway, and in her pride, she challenges Jack to retrieve her ring from the bottom of a deep pond so that he may earn the right to marry her … for some reason.
Meanwhile, a devilish character named Darkness is forced to live down below in the shadows (with limited power) during a period of goodness and light for some reason. He sends his servants to kill and de-horn the only two living unicorns, which will give Darkness his power back for some reason. Then an elf shows up to yell at Jack for some reason, and in one version of the film, he challenges Jack to solve a riddle for some reason. Then the elf says that Jack specifically, a jungle boy he just met and knows nothing about, has to be the hero who goes to the castle of Darkness to save the unicorn, for some reason – and I really would have liked this reason explained to me. Then a little fairy, whom the elf assumed was just a formless, bodiless ball of light for some reason, reveals herself to be … well, a real fairy with a body and wings and all that, but she makes Jack promise not to tell anyone, for some reason – and I really would have liked to have all this explained to me. Then she wants him to kiss her for some reason? And then Lily dances with her sin for some reason as Darkness walks out of a mirror for some reason and reveals that he’s in love with her for some reason?
I know it sounds like this must all make sense in the film. It sounds like most of this would just seem perfectly natural and unquestioned in context, but there isn’t much context. In fact, the theatrical cut – the version of the film the studio made to keep people from getting too confused – is more confusing because it has less context. I understand more about these characters in the director’s cut just because it adds little scenes that give them more dialogue, even when their dialogue isn’t particularly important to the plot. The director’s cut is unfortunately lacking in some scenes that strengthen the film, including a better ending, but overall, it makes a little more sense. It’s still pretty darn weird, and I often have no idea what the director’s trying to do, but it makes a little more sense – unless I just felt like it did because it was my second time watching the movie within a few days. (The director’s cut also has a score that’s surprisingly a bit better – the theatrical version has a cool ‘80s synthesizer score by an electronic band, which I thought I would love, but the director’s cut’s orchestral score by Jerry Goldsmith uses an unusual amount of synth as well.)
With this said, I should clarify that this movie is, somehow, really cool. That’s the best adjective to describe it – “cool.” It feels like I’m seeing something fascinating, captivating, hypnotic, artistic, impressive, innovative, and a little bit naughty in nearly every scene. The problem is that these scenes don’t connect well together. If watched with the American version of the soundtrack, filled with synth music, the movie might as well be a compilation of ‘80s music videos, because it has that same kind of aesthetic and that same amount of narrative. It’s safe to say that, if my introduction to the film had been a video clip from any individual scene on YouTube, I would immediately be very eager to watch the whole film because of how awesome it looks, sounds, and feels, not realizing that the context of each scene does not enhance its power in the slightest.
This film has no psychological or emotional logic to it, and it hardly makes sense according to surrealist “dream logic.” While it remains a cult classic because of how it sticks with the people who watched it as kids, and its imagery is indeed difficult to forget even for adult viewers, it has never been hailed for its story – it hardly has one. It lacks drama, tension, or any sort of emotion because its pieces feel so arbitrary no matter how they’re put together. Obviously, I don’t ask to have everything explained to me in detail like in Dark City, nor do I ask for everything in a story to be logical, but it is almost impossible for an audience to become invested in a story if it has bland, lifeless characters that act without clear motivations, scenes that take place without clear purposes, events that unfold without clear causes, and rules that must be followed without clear logic to them. Other films can get away with a sense of arbitrary anarchy because of a fast pace and/or a sense of intense urgency, such as Big Trouble in Little China, but even with a vague “ticking clock” scenario, Legend never instills the right kind of empathic anxiety in the viewer. Because of its immensely pleasing artistry and its successful transportation and immersion of the viewers into its distinct, yet familiar, fantasy world, it works very well as a film – just not as a movie.
I initially had a great idea for how I would write this review. I expected the film to be one of those “so bad it’s good” movies, which would have given me lots of comedic fodder, but even if it ended up not being a laughably bad film, I knew the chances of it surpassing the original were small. That being said, it had a lot of creative ideas in the pre-production process that seemed almost brilliant – did I mention that I fell out of my chair laughing with joy when I first heard about the casting of Emma Watson as Belle? That alone is such a perfect idea that I’ve been planning on seeing this movie opening weekend for years – a level of planning I almost never make for any movies at all – and sure enough, I went on the Thursday before opening weekend. It was while I was on my way to the theater that I realized how much of the news that had already been released about the film seemed like a “blue sky” session gone wild, which gave me the very clever idea of writing this review as a story about a group of friends spit-balling wild ideas about how to remake Beauty and the Beast while playing a card game until finally they conceived of a gay Lefou. This was a fun idea for a review, but once I actually saw the movie, all of the fun was sucked out of me, and I wasn’t in the mood to write a “fun review.”
It’s not that the movie is all bad. It’s that every time the movie adds something clever, it follows it with absolute idiocy. Similarly, every time the movie does something idiotic, it follows it with something clever, keeping the film from becoming pure “nanar.” This is highly disappointing because the film’s balancing act keeps it from becoming good enough to be enjoyable and from becoming bad enough to be laughable. It’s smack-dab in the heart of the mediocre valley. Perhaps I could have laughed if the original film wasn’t so close to my heart, but having seen the original multiple times over the past few months, I can’t help but find any moment that’s just sub-par, let alone the bad moments, entirely sickening. After all, the 1991 original was the first animated film to be nominated for Best Picture, and it may very well be the best of the Disney Renaissance films, thus making the remake look like poo in comparison.
I should point out, just as the Walker brothers have, that this comparison is inevitable. I can’t look at this film as a stand-alone movie because it constantly cues me to compare it to the original – that’s almost all this movie ever does. I would go so far as to say that each and every scene, actions, or moment in the movie happens either because it happened in the original, or just because it didn’t happen in the original. Those are the only two motivating factors. The film’s cast and crew clearly tried their best to do what all remakes should do and “add something” to the original so that the remake has a purpose, but it seems director Bill Condon takes the idea of “adding” to the story literally: adding anything that will make the movie longer. While the 1991 film uses clever transitions and even some almost jarring smash-cuts to move through the story quickly, brilliantly telling a full, dramatic story in only 90 minutes, while this film is so stretched out and padded that the horse gets a scene running back to Belle from the castle (followed by a ridiculously stupid moment in which Watson talks to the horse as though she expects it to talk back). In short, it’s abundantly obvious that this film is inferior to the original, but it unfortunately gets to share the original’s name and legacy.
This is not okay – it’s a freaking outrage. This fills me with unspeakable anger. The kind of anger that gives me a freaking adrenaline rush that’s burning up the calories from my dinner. The kind of anger that makes my legs hurt because I keep freaking hitting them. The kind of anger that makes me need to go for a long walk after typing each freaking sentence. The kind of anger that raises concerns about how long I can keep writing this freaking review before I slam my fists on the keyboard so hard it breaks and I throw my freaking computer screen at the wall. I’ve been trying to write that more clever version of this review for days, but I’ve found that I just don’t have the freaking patience anymore because of how much this freaking movie makes me want to freaking scream.
But maybe it’s not clear to everyone else why or how this movie is so freaking pathetic. Maybe some people walked out of this movie with a sense of nostalgia for growing up with Disney VHS tapes in the 1990s. Maybe I need to explain what it is specifically that irks me about this freaking disaster of a remake. I anticipated this, so I made a list, featuring dozens of the film’s problems. Here are my top ten issues with the 2017 Beauty and the Beast remake:
10. The Visuals and Camerawork
By gosh, where’s the freaking warmth? Where’s the freaking color? While the animated film is beautifully colored, making its vivid palette part of the spectacle (and, as other have noted before me, part of the way characters stand out), this movie looks the way nearly all other films from the past decade look: bland. The only part that’s truly beautiful is the “Be Our Guest” number, and even that is held back by the fact that the CGI is so obviously CGI. The characters look freaking demon-possessed half the time because of how terrible these CGI designs are, and the use of any practical effects would have been a joy. The use of the camera isn’t too great either, making it nearly impossible to see what the heck that freaking glittery golden stuff is on Belle’s ceiling that forms part of her dress, and most disgracefully, creating an emotional distance from the romantic leads during the “Beauty and the Beast” number because there is visually no sense of intimacy nor musicality. Also, while I usually don’t feel the need to pick on a film’s editing between shots, this film’s cuts actually break “The 180 Rule” in a dizzying way, making Condon look like a novice filmmaker who couldn’t pass film school.
9. The Comedy
I’ll concede that some of the jokes in the film made me laugh, but there is a noticeable absence of all the ad-libbed comedy that made the 1991 film so entertaining. The jokes all feel contemporary here rather than timeless, which is especially irritating when the Beast uses words like “touristy.” That kind of modern-day slang is just annoying because it makes the film feel distinctly dated to the 2000s, and it sucks me out of the story entirely. The film seems endlessly amused by jokes about the period of time in which the movie takes place, from the make-up to the overall lack of literacy in the village, which gets old after a while. There are also countless silly little gags just designed to make the children giggle, but I watched this movie in a theater with several children. They rarely giggled.
8. Needless Explanations and Filler
I’ve sort of already addressed this, but Condon felt the need to show and tell each and every insignificant aspect of this story. The power of the opening narration in the original film is due in part to the fact that all of the scenes which take place in the past are told in stained glass windows, whereas the remake interrupts its narration to show us the whole freaking scene playing out with the live cast, throwing in some forgettable music to pad out an otherwise snappy beginning. The film uses a scene from other versions of the story in which Maurice picks a rose from the Beast’s garden, but this scene isn’t necessary, nor is the addition of Agathe taking care of Maurice. Heck, I think the Enchantress is a much more interesting character when she’s never seen in the movie. I also don’t need to know how Belle’s mother died because A) it’s implied by the freaking time period, and B) dead mothers are just an expectation in Disney movies – they’re part of the freaking grammar.
7. The Enchantress
Part of why I argue that the Enchantress should be kept off-screen is that any reminder of her existence breaks down the logic of the movie. In the original film, it’s bad enough that she stupidly curses the entire castle and all its inhabitants for the bad manners of one man – an act of cruelty that makes it hard to see her as a good and wise character – but the remake makes her flaws as a character and narrative device far worse. Now she seems to know the exact time when the spell will be broken, suggesting that she has a magical sort of omniscience. This means that she was well aware of all the suffering of all the residents of the Beast’s home, and she was aware of the way Belle harassed Gaston, along with all of the other problems caused by her curse. We can also presume from Maurice’s scenes at the fork in the path that she arranged a tree to block people from noticing the path leading to the Beast’s castle – like a perception filter – and it happened to be struck by lightning just at the moment when Maurice arrived, prompting him to move towards the castle (so I assume she was also in on the lightning strike, as well as the mending of the tree that followed). So, why did she wait so freaking long to let Belle and the Beast hook up? This fatalism just makes the whole story much stranger, and it gets especially odd when she lets the people in the castle turn into their assigned objects before she reverses the curse (although technically the curse was broken by Belle after the last petal fell, so I guess the Enchantress is just really flexible when it comes to due dates). As far as I’m concerned, she’s the real villain in the 2017 film, and that’s just pathetic.
6. The Logic of the Curse
This is the most strangely detailed and elaborate curse in the history of witchcraft. It was already pretty bizarre in the animated film, with some faceless forks, knifes, and shakers in the “Be Our Guest” number whose status as former humans is up for debate. Now the freaking doors – parts of the castle itself – are inexplicably alive, and somehow the wall decorations shaped like musical instruments come to life and start playing music; what the heck were they before the curse? The curse goes further by adding a book that can literally take Belle and the Beast anywhere they want to go, which is all the Belle could ever wish for in the world, but she hardly uses it (even when it would be highly convenient for the sake of the plot for her to use it). This is like handing The Brain a switch he can flip to become king of the world and finding that he only likes to use it as a freaking decoration for his cage. The curse goes further by creating a perpetual winter around the castle, probably in the writers’ attempt to fix the timing issues with the length of Belle’s stay at the castle in the animated film, and it’s made the townspeople forget that they’re ruled by … well, anyone. So I guess they’ve just been managing themselves perfectly fine without any freaking government, making me wonder how much anarchists and communists must love this movie.
So. We’re really doing this, huh? My news feeds actually contained videos and articles about LeFou of all character getting a subplot in which he “explores his sexuality.” Whether he’s gay or not doesn’t matter – no one wants to see this clown exploring his freaking sexuality in a freaking family movie from freaking Disney. No one. That being said, those who did come to support the film for it’s “explicitly gay moment” got ripped off because Disney chickened out like a bunch of freaking wimps and kept it all as short and ambiguous as possible – your grandma wouldn’t even notice that the subtext was there at all. What’s particularly stupid about all this is that the only character Disney has been willing to make a homosexual over the past few years is a character whose name literally means “the fool,” so it’s a pretty freaking poor excuse for inclusiveness all things considered.
4. All of the Other Characters
In general, this film’s characters are flatter than the ones in the cartoon – just comparing the two “Come into the light” scenes will reveal this decrease in character depth, and that’s just the beginning. The whole town is filled with characters who inexplicably think reading is strange and stupid – even the school teacher – and they are so cartoonishly hateful of Belle’s creativity that they ruin her incredibly convenient innovation in laundry washing (because that movie about a woman who invents a mop went so well) for no freaking reason. In the castle, all of the characters seem about as selfish as The Beast, and there is a strange vibe of ill-will from the cast concerning Beast’s inability to woo and/or keep Belle that makes the characters less likable. Bill Condon seems to care so little about character motivations that he decided Maurice wouldn’t be an inventor before he even knew that Belle would be an inventor in this version, leaving me wondering if he was just trying to take away as much character as he could possibly get away with for the fun of screwing with my freaking head. Chip the teacup is less charming, Mrs. Potts is less warm and endearing, and that freaking wardrobe is somehow even more annoying, so this cast is a pretty big letdown on the whole.
3. The Relationship Between Belle and the Beast
Okay, so maybe the cast isn’t all bad – the casting of the Beast is great! But his chemistry with Watson isn’t even as interesting as oil and water – it’s like water and the planet Jupiter they’re so distant. I already mentioned how this problem arises in the way the “Beauty and the Beast” number is shot, but it’s in the acting and dancing as well, with the two of them staring at each other blankly as they dance in a way that has absolutely no intimacy. Gone is the moment when Belle cuddles up in the Beast’s fur – instead we have dancing that’s historically true to the period, because who needs emotion when we can have logical accuracy! The best example, however, is in the reveal of the library, which is a charming give the Beast gives to Belle in the animated film. For this movie, they tried to give Belle and the Beast a bond over reading, but the Beast just becomes more of a jerk, essentially saying, “Your tastes in books suck. Let me show you some real books.” It’s worth noting that the extended edition of the 1991 film adds a scene in which Belle and the Beast bond over reading because the animated Beast can’t remember how to read, so Belle teaches him, and it’s perhaps one of the most charming and endearing moments in all of cinema, but the 2017 film sets it up with Belle teaching a child to read and then inexplicably doesn’t freaking follow through with it.
2. All of the Other Relationships
Not only does LeFou have a vaguely sexual subplot, but he also has a moral one in which he questions his allegiance to Gaston, making LeFou (again, “THE FOOL”) into a far more serious character. Consequently, the dynamic that he and Gaston have is completely unclear in the new film, ruining the classic and elegantly simple dynamic of the 1991 movie. Lumiere and Cogsworth, too, seem to have lost their rapport, now sounding as though they are completely different ages and from completely different worlds. Did the two actors ever even freaking meet in person? The subplot about the harpsichord and the wardrobe being a couple separated by the curse is rather stupid seeing as how the big furniture battle at the end reveals just how easily the wardrobe could’ve walked down stairs to be with her lover at any freaking time. There is a nice attempt at creating a bond between Belle and Potts, but that feels pretty shallow – the only real relationship in this movie that works well is the one between Belle and her father, and even that one’s rather weird since Maurice keeps secrets from Belle about her mother for no freaking reason.
1. The Music
This is a musical. The music needs to be good. Instead, Emma Watson’s singing voice was dubbed by your Amazon Echo. For the original film, they were smart enough to go to New York and cast actors who had experience on Broadway, but this did not seem to be a priority for Disney this time – at least not with their leads. The actors they do have with professional singing experience and stage experience have relatively few singing parts. The lyrics and arrangements of some of the songs have been changed, but not in helpful ways – after all, if they wanted to make changes to Gaston’s song, they could have just used the Broadway version, which contains more lyrics. The new songs are entirely forgettable, and the inclusion of “Days in the Sun” is odd because its purpose could have been achieved by using “Human Again” from the Broadway show and the extended edition of the 1991 film, which would have picked up the level of energy by 1,000%. Overall, however, the musical numbers in this movie are so utterly void of life and energy that I wished Condon had asked Damien Chazelle if he could borrow one of the first few numbers from La La Land just to wake up the audience (sure they don’t work with this story, but in all fairness, they didn’t really contribute much to La La Land‘s plot either).
It is actually one of the musical numbers that made me realize I hated this movie, and just within the first ten freaking minutes. Lin-Manuel Miranda once noted that there’s a particular line in the big “Bonjour” number that really establishes Belle’s character in a brilliant way: “It’s my favorite part because- you’ll see.” Miranda pointed out that this line makes no sense at all as a sentence, but in the context of the scene, it works. In the animated film, this comes when she’s showing a sheep the page in the book she’s reading, and she can’t even tell anyone about this part of the book before she’s expressed how excited she is to tell people about this part of the book. In the remake, she just sings the line into the air with a blank look on her face, suggesting no one on set bothered to think about the meaning behind the words they were singing. This sort of copying and pasting material without thinking it through is typical of the film. Nearly every aspect of the 1991 film felt like it had a distinct purpose, usually motivated by the characters, yet in the 2017 film, everything happens just because it does.
It seems to me that nearly each and every one of the film’s priorities is wrong, right down to its apparent ignorance of the fact that the soundtrack ought to be good. Condon has so little understanding of dramatic irony that he thinks showing the Enchantress as one of the townspeople adds irony, yet he’s totally okay with letting Gaston fall to his death due to what essentially boils down to unlucky timing and/or bad infrastructure. While the film is relentlessly focused on making the story more logical – reaching higher levels of historical accuracy than the animated film did and fixing mathematical issues regarding the length of the curse – it has no freaking understanding of the narrative logic that makes the original work. When this obsession with unimportant logic is combined with the film’s utter lack of emotional depth, the resulting story might as well have been told by freaking Spock. I wanted the film to at least be interesting, and it does have its moments, but for the most part it’s just a dreadfully boring cash-grab, and in this case, Disney doesn’t deserve my cash.