Sophie in Don Bluth’s ‘Anastasia’

Sophie is still exceptional among animated characters, and even live action characters. Though a fantastic character, she should not be the exception. She should not be a rare case of fat-acceptance. It should not be rare that a fat woman loves herself and is loved.


Written by Jackson Adler as part of our theme week on Fatphobia and Fat Positivity.


Don Bluth’s animated film musical Anastasia is incredibly historically inaccurate, and even offensive in how it depicts the Russian Revolution, its aftermath, and various historical figures. However, it also passes the Bechdel Test (and in more than one scene!), which is extremely rare for children’s films. It also shows the heroine and her love interest saving each other – with the heroine taking down the villain at the end. Possibly even more notable, the film also portrays positive representation of a fat woman in its character Sophie.

Vlad and Sophie
Vlad and Sophie

 

Before the audience meets Sophie, we hear of her from the character Vlad, who calls her “ravishing” and like a cup of “hot chocolate” after a “walk in the snow.” Sophie is indeed ravishing, and she certainly has a warm personality. Sophie (voiced by Bernadette Peters) is a fat woman who is independent, caring, sexy, confident, smart, savvy, sensitive, and powerful. She loves Paris, flowers, fashion, and the Russian ballet. As if she were the bubbly younger sister of Ursula, Sophie is confidant in her body, and seems to care little about respectability politics. If she wants to wear an off-the-shoulder dress that shows off her cleavage and has a very short skirt, she does! And she’ll roll her shoulder and shake her tush in it! And wear bright colors? Why wouldn’t she? She likes them! Eating good food and drinking champagne? Again, she likes them, so why wouldn’t she? She dances with multiple young and handsome men, and has lots of fun doing it. She takes Anya, Vlad, and Dmitri for a night on the town, introducing them to all the things she likes about Paris, and having just as much fun as them.

She deeply cares about family, especially her cousin, the Dowager Empress Marie (voiced by Angela Lansbury). She is supportive of other women, taking her cousin’s interests to heart, while also helping Anya. She enjoys luxury, but is willing to share her wealth with others, even taking Anya shopping for clothes in which to meet her possible grandmother. While a bit of a romantic, she doesn’t let the possibility of romance dictate her entire life. She has a short hair cut suitable for a “modern” woman of the time. She is her own human being, with her own interests, and who has pastimes other than supporting the skinny heroine in getting a make over or getting to the ball or getting the guy. She does not compete with or try to tear down Anya (or any other woman), either. It’s just that being kind to Anya, or “motherly,” is not all that she is. She is kind, but she has a personality and her own desires.

Sophie singing on top of the Eiffel Tower.
Sophie singing on top of the Eiffel Tower.

 

Sophie is neither fairy godmother nor villainess. She does not exist only for comedic relief. She does not exist to fawn over other people, nor does it occur to her to hurt anyone. She helps to reunite her cousin with her cousin’s granddaughter, enjoying her relationship with both, and enjoying doing things with both – whether shopping on the streets of Paris or attending the Russian ballet together. She supports the women in her life doing whatever makes them happy, tearing up when Anya chooses to elope with Dmitri instead of taking her place as Empress of Russia. By the same token, no one slutshames or fatshames Sophie or attempts to tell her not to do what she likes (as if she would listen to them!).

Sophie is a fun supporting character who keeps the story going. While there is nothing wrong with that, portrayals of characters like Sophie are incredibly rare, and viewers deserve to have more Sophies on their screens. While there have occasionally been other fat women in animated children’s films, they are side characters whose own narratives are rarely told, and who instead make their lives entirely about the skinny heroes and heroines, whether as mothering and mammy types or as villains. Sophie is not a fairy, like Flora or Merryweather or the nameless Fairy Godmother, nor is she a sea witch. Sophie is a human being who deserves to be seen and treated as such, which, in the film, is how she is seen and treated. She is not just respected, but admired. She is not just accepted, she is praised.

Sophie does not just move, she dances. She does not just talk, she sings. She does not just serve the heroine, she is kind to everyone and expects the same kindness in return. When someone is overstaying their welcome, she is not afraid to say “Out!” or “Bye, bye!” When a man isn’t what she wants, she finds another man, or even just dances by herself. Sophie’s confidence is rare for women on screen in general, but especially for fat women – and she’s not there to be laughed at (like Merryweather) or sneered at (like Ursula), either.

Ursula showing off her curves and celebrating "body language."
Ursula showing off her curves and celebrating “body language.”

 

When are confident fat women like Sophie going to get their own film? We have a Malificent, but where’s Ursula? When is Disney going to make that film? We have the live action movie musical Hairspray, but audiences deserve many more films that celebrate fat bodies. And what about fat Women of Color? There should be many more than Precious. What about fat lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, and genderqueer women of all ethnicities?

Sophie is a complex female character (which, alone, is still quite rare) who is also fat. She embraces and loves her fatness. She and her fatness are also loved by others. Not every woman has the same body type, and not everyone finds skinny to be the only body type worth admiring. In Hairspray, Edna has Wilbur and Tracey has Link, and Mercedes and Sam dated in Glee. Slowly, representation of fat women who are happy in romance is expanding, but in 2015 the Disney princesses are all still extremely skinny. Ursula herself has had skinny makeovers, or often been left out of Disney villain media. Dreamworks’ Home features a mixed race middle-school heroine who has hips, but her waste is still very small. Meanwhile, Disney is making a sequel to Frozen, further featuring White skinny heroines.

Don Bluth’s Anastasia was released in 1997. It’s 2015 now. Dreamworks and Disney have made small strides in showing complex female characters, and have had a (very) few female character of Color. However, by mainly depicting skinny bodies, especially as leading characters, these companies are participating in fatshaming. Sophie is still exceptional among animated characters, and even live action characters. Though a fantastic character, she should not be the exception. She should not be a rare case of fat-acceptance. It should not be rare that a fat woman loves herself and is loved. Sophie is still a “cup of hot chocolate” after a “walk in the snow,” only it’s not just because of her warm personality, but because she is a symbol of not just fat-acceptance, but fat-love. She knows that she is “ravishing,” and she and the characters who love her won’t let anyone forget it.

Reclaiming Conch: In Defense of Ursula, Fairy Octomother

Ursula’s show-stopper, “Poor, Unfortunate Souls,” presents case studies of mermen and mermaids made miserable by culture. What this song really teaches is that internalizing cultural messages is a fatal weakness, and rejecting cultural conditioning is a source of great power. Small wonder that Ursula had to die the most gruesome onscreen death in all of Disney.

Fear not the dark feminine's suspiciously vaginal conch
Fear not the dark feminine’s suspiciously vaginal conch

Written by Brigit McCone as part of our theme week on Unlikable Women.


A Bitch Flicks review of the film Bridesmaids analyzes it using Maureen Murdock’s model of psychological descent and confrontation with the dark feminine. In Bridesmaids, it is Melissa McCarthy’s “dark feminine” mentor who must literally slap sense into Kristen Wiig’s heroine. She must bite Wiig in the ass, to symbolize life biting her ass and provoke her to fight back.

Such unruly mentors are more commonly male. The Empire Strikes Back‘s Yoda is a beloved mentor, yet pushes Luke to his physical limits and forces him to confront his deepest fears. The Lion King‘s Rafiki beats Simba’s head with a stick, to teach him to learn from pain. Dodgeball‘s Rip Torn targets defenceless adolescents while bellowing, “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball!” Yet, if any elder woman endangers our heroine’s naivete or passivity, she is usually a villain. Tough love isn’t likable. Our Fairy Godmothers offer a change of wardrobe, not trials by fire. Outside the Buffyverse, the right to “have every square inch of your ass kicked” is an under-appreciated male privilege. After all, Cinderella is a woman enslaved in a house she could leave. She doesn’t need a new dress; she needs a new attitude. Cinderella needs a Fairy Godmother who will bite her ass to save her soul. Instead, she gets slippers. What is it with women and shoes, am I right?

In a recent post, I used the model of “Manawee,” from Clarissa Pinkola Estés’ book of storytelling and Jungian psychology, Women Who Run With the Wolves. I now look to Estés model of female initiation in “Vasalisa the Wise.” In her reading, Estés takes the Baba Yaga, the sinister witch of Russian folklore, and examines her as Crone mother and initiator into wisdom. It is Estés’ belief that feminine teaching tales are often distorted by patriarchal disapproval; our mentors are rewritten as our villains, our role models as our cautionary tales.

Ursula the Sea Witch, from The Little Mermaid, seems a prime candidate to reclaim as tough love mentor, as directors Ron Clements and John Musker did themselves with Mama Odie; what other villains make “evil” schemes so perfectly tailored to help “victims” confront mental obstacles and achieve personal growth? Ursula actually shares many qualities with McCarthy’s character in Bridesmaids: she is sexually assertive, shameless, and models fat acceptance. She positively oozes anarchic vitality. We are drawn to these qualities in McCarthy but, as young girls, we learn through Ursula that they are grotesque and associated with evil. Theoretically. We’re not told why Ursula was banished from Triton’s palace, but she embodies “dark feminine” qualities that are routinely suppressed or mocked by our own culture. Ursula’s show-stopper, “Poor, Unfortunate Souls,” presents case studies of mermen and mermaids made miserable by culture. What this song really teaches is that internalizing cultural messages is a fatal weakness, and rejecting cultural conditioning is a source of great power. Small wonder that Ursula had to die the most gruesome onscreen death in all of Disney.

The punishment for failing Ursula is harsh: transformation into a worm-creature. As her victims are shriveled and rooted to the spot, the process resembles grotesquely accelerated aging. But, just as McCarthy yells, “I’m life!” before biting Wiig’s ass, challenging Wiig to fight for her “shitty life,” so we can read a darker version of that challenge in Ursula’s threat: “I’m life. I will wither your flesh and steal your beauty. I will hunch your back and shrink your body. I will drain your power and tie you down. Face me. Fight me. For I am life. Now, make your choice.” Ursula confronts “victims” with a stark choice indeed: dig a little deeper or surrender all power. Yet, in the slow creep of everyday aging, we face that same choice without noticing. We choose wrongly, because we are not made conscious that we are choosing at all. Ursula challenges that inertia, demands that we define our desires, and face ourselves honestly. Ursula mercilessly punishes self-pity. If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball. But what is worth fighting for? Always let your Conch-wench be your guide:


 Lesson 1: Your Voice Is a Terrible Thing to Waste

“Your silence will not protect you” – Audre Lorde
“Your silence will not protect you” – Audre Lorde

The Little Mermaid has been described as an anti-feminist film, in which a girl must sacrifice her voice to get a man. Not so. Not only does Eric love Ariel’s voice, but it is by Ursula’s bargain that the mermaid learns to appreciate it herself. When we meet Ariel, she is conducting extensive research into the human world, yet never shares her findings or seriously challenges Triton’s bigotry. She has “the most beautiful voice,” but skips rehearsals and concerts to sing in solitude. She falls in love with a man, but confesses that love only to his statue. Ariel is a character wasting her voice in every possible way. Her first honest outburst: “Daddy, I love him!” is the catalyst for her descent to the Crone Octomother, to face Ursula’s trials.

Ursula sings mockingly to Ariel that her voice is a “trifle, never miss it,” and sneers “it’s she who holds her tongue that gets her man.” She dares to voice (ha!) a cultural message that gains power from being unspoken. Ariel has been rewarded for her princess status and “pretty face” all her life, but discouraged from voicing her opinions. She has chosen silent rebellion over self-expression. She has chosen wrongly, because she was not made conscious she was choosing at all. Surrendering her voice teaches its value, climaxing when Ursula seduces Eric with that same voice. Ariel’s happy ending can only come after she fights to regain her voice, exposing her true feelings in the process. Lesson learned.


 Lesson 2: Power Is Not Given, But Taken

"Power can be taken but not given" - Gloria Steinem
“Power can be taken but not given” – Gloria Steinem

 

Ursula believes in her own power to rule. She does not wait for permission or recognition; her confidence is absolute and she bends life to her will. With tactical skill, she forces Triton to surrender his power to her. Of course, rule by Ursula’s matriarch would be dictatorship, as unjust as that of Triton’s patriarch. But it is society’s attempts to banish Ursula that make fairer power-sharing impossible. The more she is opposed, the larger she swells and the more violent the storms that prove her power. Recall Frederick Douglass: “Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters.” Ursula is a born agitator; hear her waters’ awful roar as she smashes King Triton’s patriarchy. After all, our heroine Ariel is not granted her dream by Triton either, until she has dared to defy his rule and seize it independently. The lesson is clear: power must be taken before it will be given.


Lesson 3: It’s Patriarchy Or Your Daughter

"The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off" - Gloria Steinem
“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off” – Gloria Steinem

King Triton is a patriarch trapped in traditions that crush Ariel’s dreams and silence her voice. He chooses his own power as ruler over the happiness of his beloved daughter. He chooses it, because he is not made conscious that he is choosing at all. Octomother Ursula confronts him with that choice in the harshest terms. Ariel is literally trapped, withering in accelerated aging. Her freedom is incompatible with Triton’s power as king. Which is more important? When faced with the conscious choice, and his daughter’s visible disempowerment, Triton realizes that his own life and power mean less to him than hers. When he regains his power at the film’s end, he uses that power to liberate Ariel and support her choices. The idea that patriarchs must sacrifice female freedom to uphold tradition is another cultural message that gains power from being unspoken. Confronting his choice has a profound effect on Triton, transforming him into a just ruler.


 Lesson 4: Screw Body Policing

"Dare to be as physically robust and varied as you always were" - Susie Orbach
“Dare to be as physically robust and varied as you always were” – Susie Orbach

 

Hopefully, as research shows fat-shaming leads to weight gain, we can finally abandon our mumbling about health concerns and admit that it is simply another bullying tactic to enforce social hierarchy. Among Ursula’s “poor, unfortunate souls” are an obese mermaid and a puny merman, both obviously depressed and self-conscious. She sings, “This one longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl,” then Ursula transforms them into conventionally beautiful specimens and they fall in love. Of course, they could have fallen in love just as well in their original forms, but the same culture that taught them to despise themselves has also taught them to disdain each other. We are never told the price for which Ursula “rakes them across the coals,” but we can see that their love is made weak by being conditional on external approval – they have literally surrendered control over their self-image. Dreamworks’ Shrek offered a longer critique of such conditional “romance,” but Ursula’s “paaathetic!” said it all.

Ursula is by far the most sexual and confident woman in the film. She applies lipstick with relish, gyrates and flaunts her curves without shame. Later, she takes the form of a slender beauty to trick the human world–meaning that Ursula had the power to appear thin any time, but understood it was irrelevant to her self-esteem and enjoyment of her body. Thin Ursula still loves the fat lady in the mirror. With an image inspired by drag legend Divine, not since Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter has there been such a defiantly flamboyant villain/liberator.


 Lesson 5: Don’t Dream It, Be It

"Men are not the enemy, but the fellow victims" - Betty Friedan
“Men are not the enemy, but the fellow victims” – Betty Friedan

 

I’ve discussed my objections to Ursula violating Eric by brainwashing him. It is totally out of character with her previous bargains and their dependence on free will. It also misses a much more interesting chance–to confront Eric with a choice between the substance of his dream girl and the surface of his dream. Prince Eric is introduced as a commitmentphobe, who dreams of an ideal woman he has never met. He claims he will recognize her when he finds her, then fails to recognize Ariel as “the one” without her singing voice. Instead, he pines over a singing girl that he barely glimpsed (paaathetic!). So, Eric hesitates. He requires entire animal orchestras to nudge him into action. He chooses to miss his opportunity for love, because he is not made conscious that he is choosing at all. After waking up to how Ursula has enslaved him with the false allure of his own fantasy, Eric finally confronts its hollowness. He is forced to stop hesitating and choose: lose Ariel forever or fight for the girl who is right before his eyes. The commitmentphobe must commit (ha!) to saving Ariel at any cost, diving into the ocean where he almost drowned and piloting the ship where he almost burned. It is a Zen principle of enlightenment that one must kill the Buddha, empowering no master to limit your independent development and self-discovery. As Ariel and Eric unite to kill Ursula, their enlightenment seems complete.


Ursula’s trident sinks through the water, setting her captives free. We can interpret this as the final will of the Sea Witch, at the end of her pupils’ trials. Perhaps now, the mermaid who longs to be thinner, and the merman who longs for the girl, can learn to long for each other as they always were. Certainly, our king has learned to use his power to liberate, our prince has learned that real love is choice and struggle, and our heroine has learned to treasure her voice and opinions. Yes, Ursula the Fairy Octomother has had the odd complaint but, on the whole, she has been a saint to those poor, unfortunate souls.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfkkMHieqcI”]

Somebody, please introduce Ursula to Cinderella

  


Brigit McCone adored The Little Mermaid growing up (but weirdly overidentified with Sebastian the reggae crab), writes and directs short films and radio dramas. Her hobbies include doodling and bad karaoke.