Tag: Animated Children’s Films

Animated Children’s Films: From the Archive: WALL-E – The Flick-Off

WALL-E (2008)

While the beginning of WALL-E is a lovely silent film (and would’ve been a fantastic short film), when you brush away the artifice and the adorable little robots, all you have is standard Disney fare: a male protagonist and a female helper, told from his perspective. Why the robots are gendered at all isn’t clear; the movie could’ve been about their friendship–and far more progressive than the heteronormative romance that ensues.

WALL-E “dating” EVE

EVE is sleek and lovely, and is physically able to do things WALL-E cannot, but she’s part of an army of task-oriented robots. The mere push of a button shuts her down, and she lacks the self-protectionist drive that WALL-E exhibits when his power reserve drains. He is, of course, beholden to no one since the humans left Earth; he is autonomous and self-sufficient. EVE, on the other hand, is fully robotic: she’s a badass, complete with gun, and she’s more intelligent and cunning than WALL-E, but she’s been programmed to be that way. She’s an advanced form of technology, but she needs WALL-E to liberate her.
WALL-E, it seems, has developed human qualities on his own. He is also capable of keeping up with a robot approximately 700 years newer (read: younger) than he is–an impressive age gap in any relationship. EVE worries over WALL-E and caters to his physical limitations (he is, after all, an old man–with childlike curiosity), acting as nursemaid in addition to all-around badass. Who says we can’t be everything, ladies? While EVE doesn’t have any of the conventional trappings of femininity, she’s a lovely modern contraption with clean lines, while WALL-E is clunky, schlubby, and falling apart (not to mention he’s a clean rip-off of Short Circuit‘s Johnny 5)–reinforcing the (male) appreciation of a certain kind of female aesthetic, while reminding girls that they should look good and not worry too much about the appearance of their male love-interest.
More contrary opinions about WALL-E–including the troubling way it portrays obesity–on:

If you know of some other good discussions on the film, leave your links in the comments.

Animated Children’s Films: Why I’m Excited About Pixar’s ‘Brave’ & Its Kick-Ass Female Protagonist…Even If She Is Another Princess

Disney Pixar’s Brave, in theatres June 2012

This is a cross-post from The Opinionesss of the World.
A few days ago, Disney’s Pixar released its trailer for its newest animated film, Brave. Why is this such a huge deal? Why am I so freaking excited to see it?? Because out of the 12 films Pixar has produced, not one has featured a female protagonist. Not one. Until now.
Pixar’s first fairy tale, Brave follows the story of Princess Merida, voiced by Kelly McDonald (Boardwalk Empire, No Country for Old Men). I know. You’re probably thinking ANOTHER princess?! Young girls are entrenched in sexist princess culture. But trust me, this one’s a bit different.
In the Scottish Highlands, “courageous” and “impetuous” Princess Merida is “a skilled archer” who would rather focus on her archery than her role as a docile, demure princess. She defies her parents and tradition, determined to forge her own path in life. But her actions “unleash chaos and fury in the kingdom.” After she turns to a Witch (Julie Walters) who grants her an “ill-fated wish” (yes, this is still a fairy tale), Merida attempts to undo a curse. Her bravery will be tested as she tries to change her fate.
Merida’s mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson), tells her in the trailer:

“A lady enjoys elegant pursuits.”

But Merida replies:

“I want my freedom.”

You go, girl! (Sorry, couldn’t resist the clichéd 90s catchphrase.)
Too many animated films don’t feature girls and women in leading roles. Originally titled Rapunzel, Disney’s Tangled, the most recent animated film featuring a girl, was renamed a gender-neutral title to be less girl-centric. Its marketing didn’t just focus on Rapunzel but featured “bad-boy” thief Flynn Ryder in order to lure a male audience. Lovely. ‘Cause movies shouldn’t be geared to girls, only to boys. You know, ’cause they’re the only ones who really matter.
Male characters dominate animated films. Shrek, Ice Age, Rango, Kung Fu Panda and the entire pantheon of Pixar’s films (Toy Story, Up, Wall-E, etc.) put male roles front and center. Out of Disney’s 51 animated movies, only 12 feature a lead female character. When you DO find an animated female protagonist, she’s usually a princess. Aren’t there any more roles for girls and women?? The exception to this rule are the Japanese-based Studio Ghibli’s films (My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service and Spirited Away) which often feature female leads, sans royal titles and tiaras.
Women rarely direct animated films. Brave is the first Pixar film to feature a woman as director (Brenda Chapman) and all female screenwriters (Brenda Chapman & Irene Mecchi). Although Chapman, who worked on the project for 6 years, was fired (such bullshit) and replaced by Mark Andrews, although she’ll still receive credit as co-director. Yes, women can certainly be perpetrators of sexism, gender stereotypes and tropes. But having more women as writers and directors usually leads to more female protagonists and perspectives.
Inspired by Chapman’s relationship with her daughter, Brave also features two parents, a mother and a father. It’s rare for an animated movie to have a loving mother, considering too many Disney films kill off mothers, demonize stepmothers and solely focus on both daughters’ and sons’ relationships with their fathers.
In her eye-opening book Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, Peggy Orenstein writes about Brave’s premise:

“Sounds promising, though I cannot help but feel, after waiting patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) through twelve genre-busting films about male robots, male superheroes, male cowboys, male rats, male cars, male bugs, male fish, and a small male mailman, that it would have been nice if the movie was not about a princess, even a kick-ass one. Honestly, is that too much to ask?”

Nope. It really shouldn’t be too much to ask.
Yes, Brave features another white girl as a princess. We desperately need more racial diversity in animated films (and live-action ones too). I mean it took Disney only 72 years to have its first African-American princess with Tiana in The Princess and the Frog (seriously, Disney?? What the hell’s wrong with you?!) And we sure as hell don’t need another goddamn princess. Princesses are EVERYWHERE. Christ, even the inquisitive Dora the Explorer has been turned into a freaking princess in some merchandising. Princesses don pink dresses, wear tiaras and wave scepters. Their only goal? To look pretty of course. Their looks matter more than their personalities.
Girlie-girl images saturate the media, telling girls to strive for physical perfection. Too many films focus on girls and young women wishing to be rescued and giving up their voice for love (um, can anyone say The Little Mermaid’s Ariel??). It’s refreshing to have a spunky, outspoken protagonist who’d rather pursue her dreams of archery than aspire to matrimony.
Girls should be valued for their intellect, skills and kindness. Not their beauty. Hopefully, Brave will help shatter the rigid princess imagery, paving the way for more empowered female protagonists. Girls (and boys) deserve better role models than bullshit stereotypes.
‘Brave’ will be released in theatres June 2012.

Megan Kearns is a feminist vegan blogger, freelance writer and activist. She blogs at The Opinioness of the World, where she shares her opinions on gender equality, living cruelty-free, Ellen Ripley and delish vegan cupcakes. Her work has also appeared at Arts & Opinion, Fem2pt0, Italianieuropei, Open Letters Monthly, and A Safe World for Women. She earned a B.A. in Anthropology and Sociology and a Graduate Certificate in Women and Politics and Public Policy. Megan lives in Boston with more books than she will probably ever read in her lifetime. She is a Monthly Guest Contributor to Bitch Flicks.



Animated Children’s Films: Cinderella

Cinderella (1950)

I would guess that in its long years of making animated features, Disney has made a mint on the princess formula. There is always a brooding prince, handsome, but distracted by his more worldly pursuits (i.e. war, evil, magic, etc.). There is a beautiful yet tragic young woman who is either on-her-knees humble, completely unaware of her high-class lineage, or else common as dirt. It is this woman’s duty to make trouble—stubbornly, stupidly, and innocently; the prince cleans up her mess, the audience rolling their collective eyes, lovingly amused.
In the case of Cinderella, the silly mistakes of losing a shoe and ignoring an expiring spell bring Prince Charming to Cinderella’s doorstep, ready to find his mate no matter how long it takes. This comes after a long and emotionally torturous journey on the part of Cinderella. In its beginning scenes, we see her struggle with housework under the ridiculous demands of her evil Stepmother and Stepsisters. She washes floors while singing prettily, the bubbles harmonizing her melody. It is revealed to us that she used to be rich and spoiled, but destiny wringed her into this incarnation – selfless, lovely, and dutiful. She is the better for it; look what fate made of those Stepsisters – loud, obnoxious, and ugly.
We see the Stepsisters’ true colors when, having been promised by her Stepmother to attend the Prince’s ball, Cinderella pieces together a gown from her real Mother’s dress and beads and cloth trashed by the Stepsisters and collected by Cinderella’s animals friends. As she cleans and cooks (in her Stepmother’s attempt to make her too late to attend the ball), the mice and birds sew together something passable for her to wear. The Stepsisters, recognizing their discarded materials, rip it apart and flounce off, their bustles comically bouncing after them.
It is shocking to see such a comely, self-possessed woman ripped apart as such. But a fairy godmother replaces the dress with a blue, glittering number, complete with absurd ear-covering headpiece. Cinderella floats into the ball and the rest is history. Beauty trumps power once again.
Watching Cinderella again for the first time since I was a child, it was amazing to me that time and again Disney portrays women as either bitches or victims. Ursula, Maleficent, Snow White’s Queen, the Queen of Hearts and of course Cinderella’s stepmother Lady Tremaine are all evil women, jealous of the beauty and innocence of their younger counterparts. One by one they seek to quell romance, passion, and everything else good from the lives of the eventual princesses by seeking power, wealth, and beauty of their own. Only a man can save these women from their pitiful disputes, damaging though they are. Perhaps the notion of a man wielding this type of power over a young, beautiful woman was a little too akin to rape for Disney’s taste. Either way, the Disney-fication of evil into an older, vindictive woman promotes an attitude that women are either a victim or seeking to be a victim; a mentality that when unleashed in the real world leads to horrific statements like, “She was asking for it.”
Newer Disney movies rely much less on this format; I think of such movies as Mulan, Beauty and the Beast, and Pocahontas whose end result of marriage contradicts a much more liberated adventure. In 1950, however, romance, passion, and entertainment could only be accomplished via marriage. True love was confirmed by a man deigning to step from his elevated social status to marry a woman of common birth. (A scheme that, as it usually turned out, wasn’t necessary because said princess is in fact rich or royal or whatever.) And marriage was enough to fill a plot. Jane Austen’s scheming ladies were a prototype for Disney princess movies. The goal is love, sure, but wealth and security sweeten the deal, too.
The problem I have most with Cinderella, though, is in the sweet density of Cinderella herself. “Have faith in your dreams and someday
/Your rainbow will come smiling through/
No matter how your heart is grieving
/If you keep on believing/
The dream that you wish will come true,” Cinderella croons as she prepares herself for another day of back-breaking, selfless labor. This kind of ignorant rhetoric endorses a blind acceptance of the status quo. Cinderella does not believe she can affect change in her own life. She will wait with faith and something good is bound to happen. Of course, as Disney shows us, it does; Prince Charming really does come and all is happily ever after. It negates a choice and, above all, this is the importance of the feminist movement – to allow the Cinderellas of the world to say “Fuck you” to all the evil power-mongers and be on their way – Prince or no. If women had just kept on believing, their dreams would definitely not have come true. Action in the form of choice is the truest path to liberation.
It is no coincidence that Cinderella was made in 1950. It was the era of writing the standards for the modern housewife; principles of which were impossible for any woman to attain without depression or at least a nasty drinking habit. This archetypal housewife has become the subject of so many books and movies (see The Hours, Far From Heaven, Revolutionary Road, etc.). The era was the springing board for Second Wave feminism. As nostalgia, it is still fun to watch a movie like Cinderella. Perhaps, if nothing else, we can enjoy these movies as a relic of the era – a document of history and ideas that are, luckily, past.
Olivia Bernal is a public school English teacher from Kansas. She reviews books at The Independent Book Review.

Animated Children’s Films: James and the Giant Peach

Based on the book by Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach has been a favorite movie of mine since childhood. After all, what kid wouldn’t love a cast of singing and dancing insects?
(Before I go into a review of the movie, I must state that I have never read the book, and do not know how closely the movie follows. Any comments I make are on the film alone, not the book.)
Directed by Henry Selick, the story revolves around a boy named James, who after the death of both parents, ends up a slave to his two cruel aunts, Sponge and Spiker. After an encounter with a strange man promising him “marvelous things,” James receives a bag of magical sprites, (crocodile tongues boiled in the skull of a dead witch for 40 days and 40 nights, the gizzard of a pig, the fingers of a young monkey, the beak of a parrot and three spoonfuls of sugar to be exact),  that inadvertently end up planting themselves within a barren peach tree. An enormous peach sprouts from the tree at contact,  which James later escapes into, turning into a claymation version of himself. Alongside a band of personified insects, the group sail across the ocean on the peach, encountering various trials as they head towards their destination in New York City.
The aunts, Sponge and Spiker, are two of the worst people to ever grace the silver screen, with their terrible abuse of young James setting the stage for the adventure ahead. They serve as the main antagonists of the story, chasing James across land and sea to recapture him.

The Aunts are horrific caretakers; starving, beating, and emotionally abusing James relentlessly. Mind you, this is a movie for children. And like in most children’s movies, the Aunts’ outward appearance reflects their inner evil. Both women are made to look terrifyingly cruel and yet simultaneously clown-like, dressed in orange-red wigs and slathered on make-up. During their first 20 minutes on screen, the two women participate in dozens of morally reprehensible practices, everything from shameless vanity to verbally attacking a woman and her children.
The fact that the villains are female does not bother me, nor that they are portrayed as greedy, selfish people. After all, women are just as capable as men of committing child abuse. However, while the style of the movie is very dark and Tim Burton-esque, I can’t help but wish that the Aunts’ appearances were not related to their evil.  Too often in the world of children’s movies a villain need only be identified by their ugly appearance, as if that is a symptom of inner ugliness. Just look at most Disney movies from the past century!
The women’s abuse of James was also very dramatic and purposeful, most likely so that the children watching the movie could understand James’ need for immediate escape. The film could have used the Aunts as an opportunity to delve into the other types of child-abuse, but instead meant to focus on the strong atmosphere of fantastical adventure. (With a story that involves death by Rhinoceros, skeleton pirates, and mechanical sharks, it is easy to understand why the people themselves are wildly unrealistic. The world itself is wildly unrealistic.) 
Transformed by the sprites themselves, James finds a group man-sized insects living within the giant peach, each with a unique personality that relates to their species. There is a smart, cultured grasshopper; a kind, nurturing ladybug; a rough-talking, comedic centipede; a neurotic, blind earthworm; a poetic, intelligent spider; and a deaf, elderly glowworm.
The spider, glowworm, and ladybug are all female, each very different and yet immensely likeable. It’s great to see several types of female personalities represented, though perhaps they are a little clichéd. Miss Spider is the typical sensual seductress, the Ladybug a doting mother-figure. The glow-worm has no real part except serving as a lantern inside the peach, and occasionally mishearing a phrase for laughs.
James: “The man said marvelous things would happen!”
Glowworm: “Did you say marvelous pigs in satin?”
Miss Spider in particular is a great female character; strong, smart, and willing to stand up for herself and those she cares about. Despite her reputation as a killer and cave-dweller, she repeatedly defends James and wards off the assumptions the other insects have made-about her.  From the moment she is introduced in her personified form, you can’t help but like her. She doesn’t take anyone’s crap.
Ladybug comes off as an older, traditional woman, complete with a flowered hat and overfilled purse. She is kindly, though strict about manners and being polite. When describing what each bug hopes to find in New York City, Ladybug is most concerned with seeing flowers and children. And while Ladybug does resemble an Aunt of mine to disturbing proportions, I felt like she had no purpose in the story other than to serve as James’ replacement mother/grandmother. While the other insects are having swashbuckling adventures and near death experiences, Ladybug is just scenery, screaming and cheering in the correct places. Which is odd, because every insect has a large amount of screen time devoted to their stories and transformation, minus the glowworm and ladybug. Both female characters. In the end, it was James, Miss Spider, Centipede, Earthworm, and Grasshopper who repeatedly saved the day. Ladybug was just there to reassure James of himself whenever fear or doubt overtook him.

Despite this unfortunate exclusion, I still would highly recommend the film to anyone who is interested. It is visually stunning, undoubtedly original, and teaches a lesson about family that is quite touching.
From a feminist perspective, my favorite thing about the film is that it doesn’t pay any attention to sex at all. At no point are the Aunts’ criticized for being a disappointment to the name of maternal women. At no point is Miss Spider treated differently because she is female. No, almost every character has an inner and outer struggle, each reaching a defining moment in the plot where they must test themselves to save those they love. Together, the insects and James form a makeshift family, each working equally with one another to build a happy life in their new home. (And the boy who plays James is too cute for words, all his emotions and inner growth come off as genuine. You can’t help but cheer for him as he finally stands up to his aunts.)
Overall, James and the Giant Peach is an excellent movie, and I would suggest it to any parent or person who likes stories of adventure and fantasy. Any warnings I would give would refer only to the dark nature of the beginning of the film, and to any people who may be afraid of giant, rampaging rhinoceroses.

Libby White is a senior at the University of Tennessee, studying Marketing and Spanish full-time. Her parents were in the Navy for most of her life, so she got to see the world at a young age, and learn about cultures outside her own. Her mother in particular has had a huge influence on her, as she was a woman in the military at a time when men dominated the field. Her determination and hard-work to survive in an environment where she was not welcomed has made Libby respect the constant struggle of women today.


Animated Children’s Films: 101 Dalmatians!

This is a guest post from Sade Nickels.

Could it possible be an animated Disney movie that has ladiez in it that isn’t about princesses!?! Yes, but this movie’s treatment of women is still distasteful at best. When I first thought about writing about this movie, I thought the question that I wanted to address was of what qualities or characteristics Disney uses to mark Cruella de Ville, the individual, as a villain. However, after watching the first 15 minutes of the film, I realized that the problematic portrayal of women in the movie extends far beyond Cruella. The real question is of what aspects or lifestyle choices of women does Disney want to villanize in the form of Cruella DeVille. 
Cruella is a single, loud, independent woman who is bad, bad, BAD! We know this because of her older, androgynous appearance, misandry and verbal harassment of men, poor driving skills, disinterest in the nuclear family, obsession with material items…oh, and her love of skinning helpless, small animals. We know she is especially bad when she is compared to her “school chum” Anita (the owner of Perdita–the mom dog). 
Anita is everything Cruella is not: married and pursuing a nuclear family, kind, loving, quiet and beautiful. The audience knows that she is a “good” character after the male dog protagonist approves of her to be his “pet’s” mate based on her wide-eyed, willowy and naive beauty. Helene Stanley provided the live-reference to Anita’s physical form just as she did for Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella characters (maybe this is a princess movie after all). 
The only thing that we know about the relationship between Anita and Cruella is that they are friends from school. Cruella drops by Anita’s house to degrade her husband and home, and to size up those puppies for their fur (though the two’s conversation did manage to pass the Bechdel Test). Anita and Cruella are polar opposites despite both being young, seemingly well-off, educated women. Just as Cruella’s obsession and insatiable need is for material goods, Anita has an inexhaustible desire to love and help all living things (probably because of that whole maternal need thing, amirightfellas?!?). 
This movie was released in 1961 and grossed the most money out of any film that year. These two facts are interesting because 1961 was one year after birth control had been legalized and was right before Betty Friedan’s Feminine Mystique. When One Hundred and One Dalmatians came out, new pathways were being forged for and by women in a highly publicized way. Perhaps this movie is a reaction to current changes in the country. To Disney, “the world was such a wholesome place until Cruella, Cruella de Ville.” If only ladies would stop being deviant and get back to those good, old, traditional family values! 
What sucks, sucks, sucks the most is that Cruella isn’t even a formidable villain in this movie (which she should be since her character was based off the ever-impressive Tallulah Bankhead). It is never expressed if she has a career. She is a bad driver (lady drivers, right?!). Heck, she can’t even skin the puppies herself. Though that would have been a little too explicit. Her hired henchman don’t respect her: Her hired henchman don’t respect her: Cruella’s comeuppance is being told to “shut up!” by one of her hired helpers. Zoinks!
Jeez, oh man, does this movie have lots of problems. In case anyone else is interested in revisiting this movie, there are other interpretations to be had of it. 
Queer Reading

Race and Class

  • First! There are SO many racial and class problems in this movie. My MAIN issue are the race ones. The first being that Pongo, the dad dalmation, is only attracted to another dalmation. Hmmm…
  • Second! When the dogs are running back to London and they are escaping Cruella, they meet up with a labrador who gets them a ride to the city. In order to sneak onto the van the dogs get covered in soot to look like labs (as Pongo says, “That’s the stuff the blacker the better!”). Dog blackface? 
  • Third! When the dogs arrive back home Rodger (the human dad character) starts singing about how they (the humans) will start a Dalmatian Plantation. Ok, so I know the words rhyme and all, but it is still in poor taste. Oh great, there is a song about it. 

Whew! Well, that is all folks. Would LOVE to read your comments.

—–


Sade Nickels is a toddler teacher in Seattle who enjoys getting tattoos, reading children’s books and thinking about radicalism.

Animated Children’s Films: Is Smurfette Giving it Away? Let Your Kids Decide

My younger daughters are obsessed with their Smurf Village. They build things, create and sustain communities, plant virtual peas that need to be watered. In general, they have an excellent pseudo SIM experience, only with little blue guys. Civilization building is fun for boys and girls. My involvement in Smurfland is limited to checking in now and then to make sure, when my kids are in school, that the plants get watered and don’t die. 
‘Til I heard the question,  “Mom, can I buy Smurfette?”
Of course she wants Smurfette. What girl doesn’t love Smurfette? I loved Smurfette. My sister loved Smurfette. She’s fabulous. She’s fun. She’s blue. Now she’s Katy Perry, for goodness sake.
“What are you buying her for?” I asked. 
Blank looks.  
“What do you mean?”
“Who else can you buy? And what for? ‘Cause your village is filled with hundreds of frantically busy little blue dudes hoeing and hammering?”
I was happy and relieved to hear that other Smurfs were also available for premium purchase: Tailor, Miner, Farmer and a handful of others, almost all eponymously named for their JOBS (a handful for their vices, like Lazy).  
But, the one female Smurf?  
No job. Not even a  personality trait like, Lazy or Vanity (who, by the way is a male, but has a pink mirror, because, please, we all know that vanity is a female trait).
Smurfette?
She’s named for her VAGINA. Know any boys or men with the diminuitive “ette” at the end of their names? It’s usually a dead giveaway. 
She does nothing except be female, the token ‘non-male’ – the one who deviates from the norm, which in this case is 50,000 blue boys with floppy white tams who apparently have magical maleparthenogenesis capabilities. Nada but little tail-wagging lusciousness. I know. I know. It’s just a game, a story, right?
And what, exactly, does the Smurf village story teach boys and girls about being Smurfette? It tells them that:
·      Smurfs are boys 
·      She’s defined by her sex, reduced entirely to her femaleness, which is after all simply not-maleness
·      She was created to wreak havoc on the utopian male world (what else is new?)
·      She doesn’t work, have a job, or serve any “real” function
·      She’s super pretty, did I say that?
·      Oh, I almost forgot, Smurfette is expensive, the most expensive one for sale
My kids get to download apps on my Ipad in exchange for cultural deconstruction credits (woo-hoo, party time in our house!). So, before they could sign on to play in Smurfland, they had to tell me what The Smurfette Principle was. They already knew that it was bad enough that there is only one female Smurf, who, by the way, serves two purposes 1) she was created to sow dissention and jealousy among the males and 2) she’s there to show that the little blue men aren’t…shhh…gay. But, actually selling her, for being female. IT SUCKS. I know, blah blah feminist blah. So boring. 
Don’t I know there are really serious things happening? And Nicholas Kristof, thank goodness, writes about them as much as possible. For example, girls being sold into slavery in other parts of the world. 
That’s right. Slavery. And why?
Because they’re perceived as sub-human. They’re commodities. Something you trade, buy and sell.  Sounding familiar?
“Are you serious???” you say. Cute, innocent, wholesome Smurfs, little blue memes of subtle but virulent sexism? No way. This is America. Not only do women have nothing to complain about, but for some people we’re destroying all the men. At the very least, we’re the good guys and gals. The genuinely most fair and equal place in the world…those are the core tenants of American Exceptionalism. We are better than the rest of the world.   
So, no, it’s not just a story. It’s our culture and we get to make it. Then it makes us. That Smurf story is no different from 80% of the hyper-gendered stories we tell our kids. And if you find that hard to believe go visit The Geena Davis Institute Web Site where you will find hard stats.
‘Cause we’re at the stage in this country where the true hard work of equality has to take place. This is the land where culture’s destructive and dangerous messages about gender hierarchies and power are not delivered with blunt force trauma (like stoning a young girl for being raped, which is so obviously wrong), but rather through fun and entertaining games and movies.
Why would I let my children play culture-shaping games involving the commoditization and sale of the only girl in the land without explaining it? It would be like serving them lard for breakfast, lunch and dinner and then pretending not to know why they were having heart attacks at 35.
Anyway, before saying anything to my daughter (in age appropriate ways, for those of you who are praying for my children’s eternal salvation), I let my daughter purchase Smurfette to see what exactly she would do once unleashed onto the Smurf Village. Turns out she sweetly and innocently skips around town blowing heart kisses and distributing power credits to every little blue boy she swings by.
She should be careful. People will talk.
Besides, I’m kinda stuck on the idea that my daughters and I, my mother and sister, my sisters-in-law, my nieces and my female friends are fully human, not deviant from anything. Silly me. I must be a bitter, angry feminist. Oh, I forgot ugly. And old.

Soraya Chemaly writes feminist satire. She is a regular contributor to The Good Men Project and The Huffington Post. She is also the creator of the retired blogs: Poog, a Goop Spoof and The Guide to Manic Moms. 


Animated Children’s Films: Nightmare Revisited

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

This Halloween my husband and I stayed in and cuddled up with Funfetti cupcakes and a movie. We capped off our week-long 90’s Halloween movie marathon with a favorite from my childhood, The Nightmare Before Christmas. I’ve probably seen this film a hundred times. I know all of the songs by heart. I remember watching it on VHS when it first came out, which is making me feel increasingly old. But as is the case with several things from my childhood, some of the nostalgia wears thin when subjected to critical analysis.
For one thing, as I would love to describe to my five-year-old self, the film doesn’t pass the Bechdel test. To refresh your memory, passing the Bechdel test means a film has to have two female characters (with names) who talk to each other about something besides men. That’s it, and yet even this very basic requirement is usually too much for Hollywood to handle. Sally the rag doll and Shock, the witch trick-or-treater, only talk to men. According to Wikipedia, the two witches aren’t given names in the film, only later in a video game. But even without the name part, they only talk to and about Jack. This sends the message to boys and girls alike that female characters do not have anything substantial to contribute to the dialogue or the plot of the film. Girls and women do not, apparently, have anything interesting or relevant to say to one another, and children internalize that very deeply. While this was probably unintentional, the effect is still the same.
Shock
Maybe you’re thinking that’s a bit harsh. After all, the named female characters do seem to have quite a bit of agency. Shock is frustrated with her “dumb” cohorts and seems to be the brains of the outfit. She is quick to point out flaws in their plans and ultimately decides the best method to kidnap Santa Claus. But her development as a character ends with that scene. Shock is a naughty child motivated by nothing apart from her desire to do mischief. While there is nothing wrong with this type of character per se, there is something wrong with the fact that she represents half of the named female cast. And, while Shock is admittedly fun, I feel she does not do justice to Catherine O’Hara’s talent.
This brings me to Sally, also voiced by O’Hara. On the surface, Sally is the perfect heroine. She is constantly outsmarting her doddering caretaker, Doctor Finklestein. She repeatedly slips “deadly nightshade” into his food, putting him to sleep so she can wander free. Her knowledge of herbs and potions is a serious inspiration to Jack in his quest for the meaning of Christmas. He even asks her to make his “Sandy Claws” suit, because she is the only one “clever enough” to do it. She has the foresight to know his plan will be a disaster, so she tries to stop Christmas with fog juice. Then, she rushes to the aid of Santa Claus, leading him to tell Jack, “The next time you get the urge to take over someone else’s holiday, I’d listen to her! She’s the only one who makes any sense around this insane asylum!” Jack eventually realizes that he was a fool not to listen to Sally, or notice her affection for him.
Sally
So, my five-year-old self loved Sally mostly because she is smart and resourceful. But Sally isn’t defined by her intelligence. She is defined by her relationships to the men in the story. Five-year-old me never bothered to question why she was the property of her creepy father in the first place. And while Jack is motivated by his role in the community and a quest for self-discovery, Sally is only driven by her desire to be with Jack. After Doctor Finklestein declares Sally to be too much trouble, he sets about building a new female companion who won’t disagree with him or run away. Sally’s world, which revolves around being with Jack and taking care of him, is at peace when he finally notices her and wants to be with her.
I still like the film. It gets me feeling all fuzzy inside and it serves the double purpose of celebrating Halloween and getting me amped up for Christmas. But I’m not five anymore. We live in a very complicated world where many changes need to take place, and girls and boys need to see these changes in the media they consume. Maybe someday Tim Burton could revamp the film and have Sally take over as mayor of Halloween Town (because seriously, that guy is an incompetent idiot). Maybe Shock could apprentice under the two witches and learn a useful trade to put her wits to better use. Maybe somewhere in Halloween Town, two women could talk to each other about something—anything—and the town could join us all in the 21st century. That sounds more like a Halloween classic I would want children to see.  

Jessica Critcher loves to write about feminism and gender issues, and she is a regular contributor to Gender Focus. While she loves living in Boston, she often misses Honolulu, where she earned her bachelor’s degree in English (and forgot that there was such a thing as snow). 

Animated Children’s Films: An Open Letter to Pixar

This open letter previously appeared at Pixar Can Do Better.
November 2011
Berkeley, CA
An Open Letter to Pixar
Dear Pixar Creative Team:
I adore your films. Want proof? My car is named Dory. I have Boundin’ posters hanging in my house. My partner and I mentioned both a jackalope and a delay fish in our wedding vows. We are fans.  
I know that you are aware that last year, Toy Story 3 received criticism for a few lines and moments that seem sexist and homophobic. What you may not know is how to fix this situation, or why you should bother.
Let me briefly offer you answers to both of those questions:
1) How to fix this: I want you to hire a consultant to read your scripts and look at your storyboards. More on that later.
2) Why you should bother:
Here’s the thing. Your movies are funny, warm, moving, lively, and brilliant. And yet every so often, they contain a throwaway joke – something that doesn’t forward the plot, something that you don’t need! – that hurts kids.
Let me repeat. You are putting in jokes that aren’t necessary for the scripts, that no one will miss, and that hurt kids.
Here are some examples just from Toy Story 3 and Ratatouille:
A) Making fun of boys who transgress gender lines hurts kids.
In Toy Story 3, Ken laments, “Why do people always call me a girls’ toy?”, and he’s laughed at for having “girl’s handwriting.” What you are teaching here is that 1) girl’s toys and handwriting aren’t as good as boy’s toys & handwriting, and thus 2) girls, and feminine boys, just aren’t as good as masculine boys.  This is called gender policing, homophobia, and misogyny. It hurts kids. And you know what? This joke wasn’t necessary. No one would have enjoyed Toy Story 3 one whit less if the homophobia was left out. You make people laugh in plenty of other wonderful ways in every movie – why do it at someone’s expense?
B) Telling stories where women need to be rescued hurts kids.
In the end of TS3, Jessie is “saved” by Buzz in a very obviously cliched and evocative pose, like in an old western. You seem to have put this in as the final reason that Jessie falls for Buzz. Why bother? Jessie was a perfectly strong female character in her own right, and she already clearly liked Buzz. There was no reason to set her up as a damsel in distress – especially because this image hurts kids.  Damsels in distress create the expectation that women are powerless and need to be saved by men, which damages both girls and boys by 1) teaching them that the roles of Savior and Damsel are the most important roles they can have and 2) teaching girls that they can’t take care of themselves.
C) Showing men kissing women against their will hurts kids and leads to date rape.
Folks, in Ratatouille, there are THREE females – two characters and one bridal caketopper – that are kissed against their will. Each of these is presented as humorous or romantic.  Are you kidding me? When kids see these images, 1) they learn that when girls say no, it is romantic or funny to kiss them anyway, which can lead directly to date rape. 2) Girls learn that what they want or say is not important, and that what a guy really wants is for them to put up a half-hearted fight and then submit.  Is this really what you want to be teaching? I fervently hope that Ratatouille is the last time we will ever see that kind of thing in a Pixar movie.
D) Showing bikini-clad, voiceless women as supreme objects of desire hurts kids.
Night and Day was a gorgeous little gem of a film. But why did your two transparent beings have to fight over hot skinny bikini girls? Why not chocolate cake, or a bouquet of balloons? Are we in Tex Avery’s 1950s?  From this story (and Knick Knack before it) kids learn that hot skinny bikini girls are the most important prize in the world. Girls learn that in order to be interesting they need to be skinny, half-naked, and sexualized. This leads to anorexia, depression, and so much more, as documented in this study: Sexualization of Girls is Linked to Common Mental Health Problems in Girls and Women.
E) Making fun of people who are physically different hurts kids, and
F) Making the bad guy brown hurts kids.
Folks, you did both of these at once with your short, dark-skinned villain in Ratatouille. Again, is it the fifties? This was especially surprising considering that none of your other villains are dark-skinned, and your truly inspiring and groundbreaking portrayals of disability in Finding Nemo.
On the good side, we had some very positive possibly-not-Caucasian characters in Up and TS3. So I think you’re on the right track. Now how to keep going in that direction?
SO, that consultant.
Pixar Creative Team, you are experts and brilliant leaders in your field. You tell wonderful stories and create beautiful works of art. You don’t need to also be experts in fighting homophobia, misogyny, racism, ableism, or sexism.
What you DO need to do is to hire someone who is that expert.
Please, I beg of you: hire a consultant – someone experienced in noticing sexism, racism, heterosexism, and ableism – to look at your scripts and make sure that you are aware of the impact of your throwaway jokes. You need SOMEBODY on your payroll who can look at each story in the earliest phases, scripts and storyboards, and who can say, “that’s sorta sexist. Do we really need it?”
Because you don’t.
Your films are masterpieces. Please, do the right thing, and take out the unnecessary jokes that hurt kids.
Sincerely,
T. Bookstein

T. Bookstein has been noticing misogyny, racism, heterosexism, ableism and other “little” problems in the media for about ten years. She works in higher education at her dream job. She and her partner are raising two awesome sons, and one orange cat.


Animated Children’s Films: Magical Girlhoods in the Films of Studio Ghibli

“For the people who used to be ten years old, and the people who are going to be ten years old.” 
— Director Hayao Miyazaki on Spirited Away

The films of Studio Ghibli provide their viewers with a rich variety of female characters from warrior princesses to love-struck adolescents, curious toddlers to powerful witches. These characters owe a great deal to the prototypes of European fairy tales and Japanese folklore and in many ways are traditional versions and depictions of femininities, but there’s an underlying sense of joy for feminist viewers in that these girls and women are active, subjective and thoroughly engaging. I’m focusing here on young girls in the lighter end of Ghibli’s production including sisters Mei and Satsuke in My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki in Kiki’s Delivery Service and Chihiro in Spirited Away.

Spirited Away

Ghibli films tend to blend fantasy and reality so that magic and flight are acceptable parts of the worlds the characters inhabit. Girls especially tend to possess magic powers or particular appreciation of them and this is shown in an unexceptional manner. While Kiki raises some eyebrows in her new town, it’s because the townsfolk don’t see many witches, not because they don’t believe in their existence. Similarly, although Kiki is an outsider, there is a distinct lack of threat to her for being so. In Ghibli worlds girls are fully entitled to fly on broomsticks, as long as they don’t congest traffic, and 13 year olds are allowed to pursue their cultural practices of living alone. In My Neighbour Totoro when Mei tells Satsuke and their father about her encounter with Totoro, after initial disbelief they embrace the truth that there are friendly nature spirits in the area, even leading to father taking the girls to pay their respects to the forest’s deities.

This acceptance of magic is refreshing and marks a clear difference to American cartoons where ironic references are embedded in children’s fantasy to appeal to parents. In this way parents are encouraged to indulge, but secretly laugh at their children’s engagement with fantasy. There’s no knowing irony in Ghibli films, instead they are focussed on telling children’s stories for children and the lack of distinct boundaries between the magic and the mundane are part of this child-centred view. That the protagonists are predominantly female makes for a collection of films focussed on girls’ adventures and triumphs where girls’ experiences are trusted and valued.

Children, like women, are often depicted as having a close connection to the supernatural; that they can see things the rest of us cannot. Indeed Mei and Satsuke seem privileged more than anything to be invited to join the Totoros’ night-time nature ritual. Dancing and flying with creatures the rest of the world (the Ghibli world at least) would revere but aren’t lucky enough to encounter. Chihiro doesn’t have a natural affinity for magic but she’s gifted in the solving of magical problems like how to clean a dirty river spirit.

Mei, Satsuke, Kiki and Chihiro all work within the magical world as part of their quest narratives. Mei and Satsuke are dealing with the illness and potential death of their mother and a move to a new home. Kiki has moved away from her parents according to witch culture and Chihiro seeks the return of her parents from the spiritual realm where she’s been trapped and they’ve been turned into pigs.

My Neighbor Totoro

In all three stories there’s also the seeking of identity for the girls, especially and most literally for Chihiro for she has her very name stolen by a witch. In their quests for self-hood and identity all four characters go through similar trials and experiences: the absence of parental influence, the access to magical powers, the physical manifestations of anxieties such as the dust bunnies that feature in both My Neighbour Totoro and Spirited Away.

The absence of parents is a common way to allow independence to young females from fairy tales to Jane Austen and unlike for orphaned boys in fiction it can also represent a removal of patriarchal influence in general. It’s not just that these girls don’t have parents guiding them or checking up on them; they are also free to create their own rules of engagement with the world.

One way that all four girls find meaning and self is through work. Satsuke in school and house work, Mei despite being very young does gardening, Kiki sets up her delivery service and Chihiro works in the bath house. All of them do a lot of cleaning. There’s an interesting mix of public and private here and certainly the suggestion that domestic labour can be especially rewarding (for example Kiki’s paid work can provide anxieties and problems). But is the culturally feminine nature of this work an issue? In Chihiro’s case cleaning is linked to subservience and being a captive to the domestic but for the others (and eventually for her) it’s a tool of empowerment and liberation. Does such labour inevitably have negative associations of female drudgery?

Another way that selfhood and identity is achieved by these girls is by flight. Most obviously for Kiki where her broomstick is literally the means of earning a living and saving a friend’s life but also in how Totoro and Cat Bus fly Mei and Satsuke away from their worries and later to their mother. Chihiro’s flight is more anxious, as her encounters with magic are generally, but still serves to move her closer to self discovery by being the time she gives Haku his name so leading her to the rediscovery of her own.

Kiki’s Delivery Service
Work as empowerment isn’t the only moral message in these films, with ecological messages also being played out. In My Neighbour Totoro there’s the idyllic agricultural setting as well as the Totoros and other spirits of the forest. In Spirited Away rivers like Haku’s have been filled in because of the greed of humans. The messages of conservation, respect of nature (and blaming of humans as nature’s destroyers) are not as forcefully applied as in, for example, Princess Mononoke but neither are they subtle. While this preaching could be tiresome in other films, because of their earnestness and how the protagonists are fully on message it’s actually pleasant. Although nurturing the planet back to health is presented as an ungendered activity the films together can be viewed as showing the next generation of empowered young women actively making progress and solutions to the problems inflicted on the world by older generations. This also applies economically where Kiki and Chihiro’s enterprising labours lead to success for both. Chihiro especially is placed at the beginning of the film in the context of a Japan after economic downturn and reckless financial behaviour by her elders (as reported by her father) damaging Japan as a whole and its youth implicitly.

Not everybody believes that Ghibli heroines represent empowered femininities. I’ve been rather selective in the choice of films to cover but even if I’d widened the selection I stand by my view. Ponyo for example wasn’t included as its heroine isn’t really a girl but although it’s a variation on the disempowering The Little Mermaid the core message is rather different. Ponyo accepts a loss of powers because they were never entirely hers and the sea’s power remains with the feminine; Ponyo’s sea-goddess mother.

There’s been significant note of the glimpses of knickers we get in Ghibli films like when Kiki is flying and generally when there’s any rough and tumble. There’s merit in the argument that this could be voyeuristic representations of young girls but it can also be seen as further expressing their freedom and activity. These girls don’t worry about skirts riding up because they totally lack vanity and are preoccupied with altogether more important missions. We’re not given alluring peeps at nubile bodies but girls in action which female bodies so rarely are; that gaze is usually reserved for male bodies. If female passivity is alluring then the kinetic energy of these girls places them beyond that.

 What’s pleasurable about these films from a feminist perspective is their alliance with joyful, engaged and active girlhoods. These girls don’t wait for princes and don’t focus on their appearances but determinedly pursue their missions, however difficult.

____

Rosalind Kemp is a film studies graduate living in Brighton, UK. She’s particularly interested in female coming of age stories, film noir and European films where people talk a lot but not much happens.

Animated Children’s Films: The Princess and the Frog

The Princess and the Frog (2009)
The Princess and the Frog is a Disney milestone for two reasons: it is the first hand-drawn animated motion picture from the company since 2004’s Home on The Range and features an African-American female heroine.
Also keep in mind that the last film co-starring a human princess was 1992’s Aladdin.
But hold that applause.
For these accomplishments mean little once the viewer realizes what is in store.
The poster of a pouting girl holding a frog amongst bugs, an alligator, and a snake amongst a dark, swampy background says it all. No cute fuzzy bunnies, kittens, or deer friends here.
Our characters: Tiana (originally to be Mamie–uh oh!), a two job hustling sassy twang lady with a lifelong dream of becoming a chef/owner of a fine restaurant. The leading man: disinherited, shallow, but very good looking, Prince Naveen. Tiana’s best friend since birth, Charlotte: a rich, apple-cheeked blond with ample curves to die for and a strange obsession with calling her sole parent “Big Daddy.” The villain: a top hat wearing, African mask collecting, voodoo havocking witch doctor with a smooth, seductive albeit evil voice, Dr. Facilier.
A bopping 1920’s New Orleans is where the story takes place.
The opening to the film was irking. After story time, little Charlotte demands a new dress and daddy begs Tiana’s mother to make her a new one. As the camera pans to several versions of the same pink dress, the kind black, very tired seamstress obediently obliges. Sadly, while she and Tiana leave, daddy spoils Charlotte’s silhouette with a puppy.
How cute!
Eye roll.
Tiana and her mom ride the bus back home- nice part of town disappears rather quickly. One does not need to mention where they have a home. Remember these are black people here.
Five minutes later, Tiana and Charlotte grow up. 
(I must also state that I found Charlotte’s treatment of Tiana infuriating.)
At the café, Charlotte just throws all of her daddy’s money at Tiana and demands that she make a boatload of beignets for her Mardi Gras soiree–on that very night! 
Inferiority complex is at play.
Charlotte and her daddy make Tiana’s family work like slaves even though they are paying for them. Much too docile and meek, Tiana and her mother take this dominating behavior and its sickening, even for an animated cartoon.
The plot thickens.
Tiana and Prince Naveen-turned-frog
Thinking her to be a real princess due to the tiara on her head, Prince Naveen-turned-frog begs for Tiana’s kiss. Unfortunately, she isn’t a princess at all. So after a slimy short make out session, she too becomes a frog.
Ah, how wonderful!
Arguing and swapping flies together, these two frogs embark on a journey in the wet, scary marshlands. The quest to finding their lost humanity is supposed to be funny, sweet, and somewhat romantic. Let’s not forget to mention there is a scene in which their long tongues get twisted in a style reminiscent of Lady and the Tramp’s infamous innocent spaghetti smooch. But that connection was due to a bug, not good old-fashioned Italian fare.
As Tiana and Prince Naveen search for the person who could make them “normal” by following a goofy alligator and a bug that is more friend than delicacy, the viewer quickly becomes annoyed and a tad bit infuriated.
By the near end, they are in love and willing to accept each other forever … as frogs!
When compared to the other Disney princesses, Tiana’s story is a bunch of BS. She didn’t have an evil stepfamily, eat a poisoned apple, have graceful legs instead of fins, receive many hours of beauty rest, or become a madmen’s “love” slave.
Does that make her luckier? I think not.
None of those women would wish to be a frog with long, batty eyelashes.
Nope. Not one.
After the green, jumpy lily pad life and having a grand night’s adventure in the bayou, our humanized heroine finally becomes a princess and a restaurateur. The end.
Feeling robbed? 
Yes.
We all know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this is a distasteful metaphor. It kind of makes one feel that all brown-skinned women are frogs and that in order to love them, one would have to be a frog too.
Other notable lowlights: blacks are put in their “respective” places–living in close-knit, modest shacks and taking overcrowded public transportation. As previously mentioned, submissive Tiana and her mother both work diligently for white people and Prince Naveen’s right hand white man transforms into Prince Naveen via Dr. Facilier’s powers. It would almost be a cry for demeaning blackface politics, except Prince Naveen is not a black man.
Loved that an upstanding, loving, appreciative father shared Tiana’s passion for cooking and inspired her ethic. So glad Disney didn’t go with that stereotype about black men being absent from their children’s lives…
Now, Tiana’s mother: only commendable when not complaining about Tiana needing to find a “prince charming” so that she could have grandbabies. Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel, and Belle lacked motherly parenting, which added to their naïveté about men. Little fairies and godmothers are sweet and all, but the genuine love from a mother is a special, sacred bond often missing in Disney films.

As a strong, independent woman, Tiana knew that one does not sit on her butt talking to baby animals and making wishes on stars.
Oh wait, she did wish on a star! Damn.
Still, she dreamed big and worked from the ground up.
Now that is a character for little girls to be inspired by. Too bad Tiana was a frog for so long in the movie.
Overall, The Princess and the Frog is enjoyable for a few laughs, infectious moments, and the trademark watery eye sap. But it takes many steps–backwards, forwards, sideways. One wonders what this film is truly trying to accomplish.
Janyce Denise Glasper is a writer/artist running a silly blog of creative adventures called Sugarygingersnap. She enjoys good female centric film, cute rubber duckies, chocolate covered everything (except bugs!), Days of Our Lives, and slaying nightly demons Buffy style in Dayton, Ohio.

Animated Children’s Films: Megamind: A Damsel Who Can Hold Her Own

Megamind (2010)

Dreamworks’ animations, in my personal opinion, do some amazing portrayals of their female characters.  Unlike other animation studios, where female characters have a cookie cutter personality and want to find true love, Dreamworks gives their female characters more goals than that. And one of my favorite–and I think one of the best examples of this–is Roxanne Ritchi from the movie Megamind.
The plot of Megamind is that he’s from a planet that was destroyed and his arch rival Metroman is from the neighboring planet which was also destroyed.  While Metroman’s escape vessel lands in a good and wealthy home, Megamind’s vessel lands in a prison yard where he is raised by criminals.  Not only that, but Metroman grows up with great social skills and is incredibly attractive, while Megamind has a hard time pronouncing certain words and doesn’t look at all human so he has a harder time trying to fit in.  Consequently, Megamind grows up to be an evil villain while Metroman becomes the good superhero who always wins.  We also have Roxanne Ritchi, our damsel in distress, who is constantly being kidnapped by Megamind and saved by Metroman.
If this plot sounds at all familiar, it is because it is a lot like Superman–with Superman being Metroman, Brainaic being Megamind, Lois Lane being Roxanne Ritchi and even Jimmy Olsen as Hal Stewart.  I’ve personally always loved Lois Lane since I used to read a lot of the old Superman comics.  Lois Lane was originally created in 1938. She was really dedicated to her work, she was very headstrong and stubborn and she rarely took orders from her male co-workers.  But of course, she has earned the title of being the damsel in distress for being constantly saved by Superman.  The fascinating thing about her, though, is her personality was created in the late thirties when none of those qualities were considered attractive for a woman.  Even Superman wasn’t always attracted to her because of these traits.
Roxanne Ritchi, voiced by Tina Fey
I’m only discussing Lois Lane because of her parallel self, Roxanne Ritchi, who can only really separate herself from Lois Lane because she does not love Metroman/Superman.  Now of course, there have been several different portrayals of Lois Lane where she’s terrified when kidnapped or she is bored of it because it has happened so much.  For Roxanne Ritchi, she’s been kidnapped so much by Megamind that even when she is sitting in a death machine she has no problem taunting the evil villain.  She even blows a spider in his face.
In this specific kidnapping, we see that Megamind has (supposedly) killed Metroman and so he proceeds to take over the city.  What I really love about Roxanne Ritchi comes out during this part of the movie, where she is the only news reporter to question Megamind, she insults him on air, and isn’t willing to stand around and do nothing.
She visits the Metroman-dedicated Museum where she runs into Bernard.  Unknowingly to her, Megamind is also visiting the museum to say his last goodbyes to Metroman.  He disguises himself as Bernard and has a heart to heart with Roxanne about how much he misses Metroman.  It is through this conversation that Roxanne says, “Heroes are not born, they are created.”
Megamind takes this to mean that he can create a new superhero to fight while Roxanne takes her own advice and takes matters into her own hands.  She does this by sneaking into Megamind’s lair, taking pictures, researching who Megamind is and also trying to duplicate the notes she found in his lair to understand what his ultimate plan is.  While she’s doing all this, Megamind is actually accompanying her but is disguised as ‘Bernard’.  Over time, Roxanne falls for ‘Bernard’.
I personally really love that this feeling for ‘Bernard’ wasn’t instant and that she had to slowly move past the mourning of a superhero (who she probably considered to be more of a friend than anything else) in order to really care for ‘Bernard’.
Hal and Roxanne
Now, Megamind has created a new superhero through Hal Stewart who I haven’t really discussed yet.  Hal Stewart is Roxanne’s cameraman who loves Roxanne in that sort of creepy stalker way; he even has a poster of her saying good night to him above his bed.  Roxanne, of course, is not at all interested but when Hal becomes a superhero he thinks everything is going to turn around.  So he tries to woo Roxanne but that is dramatically unsuccessful.  It could have been that he is still not her type or the fact that he was throwing her around like a football; I’ll let you decide on that.
After her encounter with the new Hal Stewart, she rushes to her date ‘Bernard’ and reveals what just happened.  It is through this date that she kisses ‘Bernard’ but his disguise malfunctions and is revealed to be Megamind.  (F.Y.I. This is one of the best kiss scenes I’ve ever seen.) What follows is one of my absolute favorite scenes in any movie ever, where Megamind tries to convince her to come back to him because she said never judge a book by its cover.  Roxanne immediately counters that he killed Metroman, destroyed the city and is in fact evil.  I personally love that Roxanne isn’t going to take any of this crap and does a good job reminding the audience that she has every reason to leave Megamind.
When we get to the end of the movie, Roxanne tries to reason with Hal because he is about to destroy the city.  Hal has proven in very little time that he is much more threatening than Megamind ever was. What ends up happening, though, is that he ties her up to a building and calls out for Megamind to face him.  But even now, when Hal is about to take down the entire building, Roxanne still tries to reason with him.  This is the very essence of what it means to be a strong character.  It is not actually about being physically strong, or incredibly intelligent; it is about still trying to accomplish your goal even when there is no hope.
Of course, Megamind saves her and the big epic fight scene happens between Hal and Megamind.  At a certain point of the fight Megamind is losing and you can see Roxanne running up from behind with a broken metal sign. Which is amazing to see this character still have her goal of stopping Hal.  Unfortunately, that is short-lived because when Hal throws Megamind up into the air, Roxanne drops her sign and gets backed up into a fountain where she has no weapon to defend herself.  I can’t help but slap my face every time at this moment because she had every inch of determination in her face when she had that metal sign.  She was clearly going to wham Hal with it. Even though she was going to lose that fight, she still had that raw determination.
I still don’t understand why she dropped that damn sign.
There is another little detail about this final scene that I’m going to sound like a jerk for pointing out but I really, really, really have to.
Her nails are polished pink.
Why do I point this out?  Because she doesn’t have her nails done in any other scene.  She didn’t have them done when she went out on her date with ‘Bernard’.  So that means that at some point between realizing that the love of her life was actually a super villian and that the crazy stalker co-worker now is destroying the city,   she got her nails done.
Maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much if it wasn’t already established that she didn’t put that much stock in her appearance.  There are two times in this movie where her hair gets messed up or face is really dirty and she doesn’t take the time to fix it.  She just goes on with her job or goes on her date.
But really, I take very few issues with the movie Megamind, and Roxanne is a fantastic character.  She isn’t the main focus of the plot but the people at Dreamworks still took the time and thought to develop who she is, what her goals in life are, and what is going to motivate her through the story.
Even though Roxanne is pretty much the only female character of this movie, I want to take a second to talk about the great background characters.  If anyone else noticed, the background characters, who are both male and female, come in many different sizes and races.  I really want to point this out because there are other females who are bigger, have different shaped faces and don’t all look alike.  Along with this, there are parts where there are a bunch of cops and the number of female cops is equal to the amount of male.  And really, thank you Dreamworks for not putting the women cops in skirts, I really appreciate it.  These all are very small details, but they do register in young kids’ minds.
When you have these small details and a great supporting character like Roxanne, you already have a great movie.  There are many other reasons why Megamind is a great movie but seeing a well-rounded character like Roxanne is just so amazing.  I’m so happy that children saw this movie where even the damsel in distress proves to have so much going on under the surface.
J. Lee Milliren is an active feminist currently in her last year at the Art Institutes International Minnesota where she will earn her bachelor degree in Media Arts and Animation. She takes a critical eye to how characters are portrayed in films.

Animated Children’s Films: Onions have Layers, Ogres have Layers – A Feminist Analysis of Shrek

Shrek (2001)

Fairy tales are important. A longish history of oral tales modified and set in stone by the likes of Charles Perrault, Hans Christian Anderson and the Brothers Grimm. They don’t just capture children’s imaginations, they form them, setting them down a path towards developing their values and opinions against the background of certain societal expectations and gender specific behavior. Attempt to strip away the layers and one opens a Pandora’s box of underlying meanings: it may sound like a simple story about deviating from the path but we all know what Red Riding Hood is really about. A retelling of the tale, like in Angela Carter’s brilliant The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, lead to interesting interpretations of the same, giving us a clearer picture of may lurk beneath these innocuous sounding tales.
For children however, simplified cartoon depictions of classic stories, told with the impeccable technique of Disney full length animation, made them easier to swallow. The wicked and usually ugly are punished and the good and usually beautiful get to live happily ever after. So, when Shrek the movie came out, it didn’t just turn the standard fairy tale on its head, it gave audiences something that was extraordinary for popular animation.
Artwork by William Steig
In the original story by William Steig, Shrek the ugly ogre hears of the fabled princess who is reputed to be uglier than he is and goes in search of her, quite sure that he plans to love and marry her, a charming and refreshing story deviating from the fairy tale norm. In the movie, however, Shrek isn’t so figured out and neither is the princess. Both live secluded lives; Shrek’s hermitic existence is self-imposed whereas Fiona’s is the result of a curse. The ogre state, its otherness, is shown to be reprehensible from the beginning of the film, with the local villagers out to burn and kill Shrek, who wants nothing more than to be left alone. He is the titular hero of the film, but towards the end we see that the heroine, Fiona, is more than just a secondary character.
Fiona, imagined by Dreamworks
In Jungian psychoanalysis, the shadow of the mind constitutes our unacknowledged weaknesses and instincts. The curse that turns Fiona into an ogre after sunset is a perfect representation of her wild, repressed shadow, one that Shrek, who has had to live with it his entire life, revels in on the surface for the power it brings him, but secretly, as we see in the course of the film, hasn’t comes to terms with either. Both are caught in a patriarchal mire, both possess desirable masculine and feminine qualities that they are loath to give up: she human beauty (Caucasian, specifically) and he the power and fear he inspires. 
Fiona’s wish to put an end to the curse is also a desire for freedom, for then she will be out of the tower and amongst the normal folk. Trapped in the tower since she was a little girl and out of touch with reality, the fairy tale has become reality to her and when things do not go by the book, she is understandably confused. She is a princess but her royal status makes no difference to Shrek and she is hauled against her will through the forest, but towards her ‘true love’ and the destiny that she hungers for. In the course of time, her more ‘unprincessy’ aspects are revealed. She burps unapologetically, enjoys the savory meal of weed rat and doesn’t flinch at pulling an arrow out of Shrek’s bottom. The scene where she fights off Robin Hood and crew gives no explanation for her amazing martial arts skills except that she had a lot of time on her hands in the tower, but I didn’t feel as if the filmmaker was trying to pander to a young male audience, for though a hot young princess who kicks butt is an attractive addition, her other characteristics fall desperately short of established notions of feminine desirability. 
Along the journey, Shrek and Fiona find out they have much in common. Unsure romantic feelings begin to emerge when they reach outside Farquaad domain and they both convince Donkey that he is sick so they can spend more time together. When the sun begins to set, she hides away in an abandoned barn and Donkey, that adorable creature and their go-between, tries to convince Shrek to reveal his feelings. Shrek is the first to reveal his own insecurities about being an ugly ogre to Donkey. Fiona in turn laments her condition to Donkey, the princess condition (if she reveals her ogre-self, she will lose her princess status). Shrek overhears and thinks she is talking about him. In the morning, Shrek rejects her, Farquaad arrives and Fiona abandons herself to fate. The ever-persistent Donkey pursues Shrek and misunderstandings are settled. Shrek, with no clue about Fiona’s ogre-curse, rushes from his swamp and solitude, everything he ever wanted, to stop the wedding. The sun begins to set and the Fiona’s curse begins to take shape. When she shows her transformation openly, it is a tremendous test of inner strength, for weigh this agonizing decision with the risk of being unloved, by both society and Shrek. She is not giving up, a relief at finally exposing one’s dark hidden aspect, but confronting it in its entirety. Farquaad (fuckwad?), so brilliantly voiced by John Lithgow, expresses his disgust as Fiona’s wild equivalent is revealed. That stuffy little creature is dominant culture, trying to compensate for its own imperfections by eliminating, hiding or surgically modifying its ‘ugly’ and unique members. 

Shrek is chock-full of uglies, reviled and feared, who find each other and embrace their alternate halves. The one who refuses to embrace his shortcomings, no pun intended, is punished and gets swallowed by a dragon. Shrek speaks to the gulf within the self – to have the courage to embrace oneself or change/hide part of it to feel accepted (or feared). Its motley cast of social rejects make their choice, dashing the conformity of the feature length fairy tale to pieces.

Rhea got to see a lot of movies as a kid because her family members were obsessive movie-watchers. She frequently finds herself in a bind between her love for art and her feminist conscience. Meanwhile she is trying to be a better writer and artist and you can find her at http://rheadaniel.blogspot.com/