Movie Review: ‘Aladdin’

Aladdin. Image from Amazon.
Image from Amazon.

Aladdin is special to me for being the very first Disney movie I ever watched, and perhaps the only one I–according to my parents–would cry at the end of, as I apparently wanted them to rewind the VHS tape and play it again. I couldn’t tell you what I saw in it over 20 years ago, of course.

Considering that I watched it for the first time as an adult recently, I can tell you what I think of it now: despite some plot holes and glaring problems in the geographical and cultural setting, Aladdin is a rollicking, hilarious, romantic, and progressive (for its time) cartoon.

Summary from IMDB:

When street rat Aladdin frees a genie from a lamp, he finds his wishes granted. However, he soon finds that the evil has other plans for the lamp–and for Princess Jasmine. But can Aladdin save Princess Jasmine and his love for her after she sees that he isn’t quite what he appears to be?

It was extremely difficult for me to summarize the plot of Aladdin without going into great detail as to what happened in the beginning. I think that this is because Aladdin’s turning point, that of meeting Genie and trying to win Jasmine’s hand as a prince, doesn’t occur until a good one-third into the film. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, as I enjoyed the somewhat tuneless preamble leading up to the second Cave of Wonders sequence.

You know what else I enjoyed? Aladdin and Jasmine, from start to finish. I feel like there is no other Disney movie where the chemistry between the hero and the heroine is this strong. Aladdin turns into a real goofball when it comes to Jasmine, so much so that I can feel a goofy smile growing on my face whenever they’re about to kiss or when the “A Whole New World” number came up. Even if the next two films and the animated TV series weren’t as good as Aladdin, I’m glad Aladdin and Jasmine got that much material and screen time to further develop their relationship; they are by no means perfect and they often have misunderstandings, but that’s just part of their charm.

Image from
Image from

Jasmine herself is a pretty admirable character, perhaps the first example of the naive-but-fiery-and-capable-princess trope. She can’t handle a bow like Merida or a sword like Mulan, but she’s every bit as willing to fight to protect what’s important to her like Nala, and even as willing to trick her way into achieving her aims like Megara and has all the sexuality of Esmeralda. I may have wanted to be her when I grew up.

The film–in glorious 2D that’s all but disappeared from mainstream US animation–has a rocking color palette that isn’t at all shy about going from warm to cool undertones from one scene to the next. Appropriate when you consider that the “A Whole New World” sequence is basically a preview of the settings of future Disney movies, like Hercules and Mulan. I also very much enjoyed how Carpet was animated–it takes a lot of skill to be able to draw a rug that can express its emotions without any voice acting. Plus, its pattern was beautiful.

Speaking of voice acting, Robin Williams in his turn as the Genie was especially stellar. Scott Weinger does a pretty good job as Aladdin, too.

I did have to wonder, however, about some plot points. Why Jafar didn’t just attempt to marry Jasmine in the first place if he wanted to take over Agrabah so much? He clearly had the resources–the snake staff–to do it, and if he’d done that in the first place, he’d have had access to enough resources to storm the Cave of Wonders, or else to discreetly detect Aladdin’s presence in the marketplace.

It also bothered me somewhat that you couldn’t tell at a glance if you were in India, Saudi Arabia, or Iran. (The palace and Jasmine’s attire has some Indian influences, the marketplace is more Arabian souk–and I’m probably getting too technical on this, but wasn’t the original Aladdin story set in China?)

I was also thinking the whole time I watched the Sultan, how did this happy-go-lucky guy who doesn’t take anything seriously get to lead a whole country? I mean, Jasmine was so upset when she thought that Jafar had had Aladdin beheaded, and he thinks that talking to both parties as mediator is going to appease either one? And yet, it’s that same quality of the Sultan’s that finally allows Jasmine to choose Aladdin as her husband, so I guess it’s all good…?

Maybe I wouldn’t have enjoyed Aladdin as much if I’d first come to it as an adult, but who cares? The bottom line is that it gave me so many feelings and I’m still singing out “Prince Ali, fabulous he, Ali Ababwa” at random times throughout the day.

Movie Review: ‘Frozen’

Spoilers abound.

I remember back in 2011, my college friends and I (all of us Fine Arts students) were already expressing not-so-high hopes for Disney’s Frozen. Many of our complaints centered on it possibly being a bastardization of yet another fairy tale (Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen,” about a little girl named Gerda rescuing her friend Hans from the Snow Queen), and possibly a rip-off of Broadway’s Wicked, considering that it was about two girls at odds and it had Idina Menzel playing the misunderstood antagonist. I was also a bit iffy with it, for I was expecting a traditionally animated Disney Renaissance part 2, not a seeming copy of 2010’s Tangled.

I am so glad to have been proven wrong. Frozen exceeded all expectations.

Frozen's UK poster. Image taken from
Frozen’s UK poster. Image taken from

Frozen follows the story of two estranged princesses, Anna and Elsa, who have been shut away from the rest of the world by their parents due to the magnitude of Elsa’s ice powers, of which Anna has no recollection. On the day Elsa is crowned queen of Arendelle, the powers she has been trying to control and conceal all her life explode into public knowledge and Elsa runs off to the North Mountain, unwittingly creating an eternal winter. With the help of ice-cutter Kristoff, his dog-like reindeer Sven, and childhood snowman Olaf, Anna chases after Elsa in the hopes of reversing both the winter of Arendelle and in Elsa’s heart.


As with all Disney movies, one cannot help making comparisons to previous works.

The first thing to take me pleasantly by surprise was the amazing opening song “Eatnemen Vuelie” or simply known as “Vuelie,” a South Saami folk song rendered to soaring heights by Norwegian female choir Cantus. The last time Disney a movie opened this way was 1994’s The Lion King. Also, the film’s sensibilities were very Broadway too, from the music to some of the scene transitions–not really surprised considering the presences of Broadway actors Idina Menzel and Jonathan Groff. Even Kristen Bell, who displayed impressive musical chops, apparently got her start in Broadway.

If I keep going off about the music, it’s really because I haven’t encountered a catchy Disney song since the opening of 2001’s Lilo & Stitch. My sister and I were dueting on “Let It Go” and “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” for the rest of the night.

And those lyrics! “My soul is spiralling in frozen fractals all around”…clearly, “Let It Go” is my favorite song.

The second thing that took me by surprise was the film’s first five minutes, which detailed the shared childhood of the princesses, sisters Anna and Elsa. Oh my god. By the time we got around to explaining how their parents died, big fat tears were rolling down my cheeks and off my chin–and it turned out that my sister and I were both trying to hide the fact that we were crying from each other. I’m pretty sure we could see ourselves in sunny Anna and frigid Elsa. My heart just broke when Anna sits before the door to Elsa’s room, singing a sadder version of “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” and just sighs out that last line. Ugh.

So, just as I was calming down and watching the rest of the movie like a sane person, Frozen lets loose one of its other surprises, apart from the tiny Rapunzel and Flynn cameo that let’s you know that this happens in the same world: at the coronation ball, when desperate-for-love Anna presents Hans to Elsa and announces that they’re getting married, Elsa says, “You can’t marry someone you just met!”

You hear that, Disney? You just can't. Image taken from
You hear that, Disney? You just can’t. My face when I heard that line. Image taken from


The directors and scriptwriters, who apparently resurrected a project stuck in development hell for over 40 years, can pat themselves on the back for a job well done on Elsa’s characterization (seeing as their main problem was making the Snow Queen more relatable and relevant). Elsa is not only relevant–she’s such a broken, well-meaning, and very independent character, at least when she comes into her own. I loved her. I’d watch a movie about her. Idina Menzel did a good job sounding much younger, though I guess she couldn’t help it when singing–but what the hey, her voice sounds awesome either way, and it repairs the injustice of not utilizing her talents in Enchanted (2007).

If Elsa wasn’t who she was in the movie, Anna would be my favorite character: clumsy, funny, spunky, very forward, and unafraid to stuff her face with chocolate (the only other Disney princesses I’ve seen actually eating something are Tiana, who loves to cook; Belle, who samples some confectionery cream during “Be Our Guest”; and Merida of 2012’s Brave). I guess what I’m trying to say is, she feels like a real person: for most of the movie, she’s hankering for somebody to love, almost at the price of ignoring the people who already love her. I’ll get back to Anna later.

Kristoff, too, was a pleasant departure from your average Disney prince. For starters, he’s pretty grumpy–something Disney hasn’t done since the Beast in 1991’s Beauty and the Beast. I didn’t really have high hopes for him since in early pictures, he looked either gruff or somewhat dim-witted (and a far cry from dashing, funny Flynn Rider). But he’s got his heart in the right place and he really does care about Anna. His reindeer Sven is the sillier, doggier version of Tangled’s Max the horse…but with all these animal sidekicks with dog-like qualities, one wonders why Disney doesn’t just flat-out give them a dog. Olaf is more like Rey from The Princess and the Frog (2009) and oodles more charming, probably on par with…wow, I don’t think he’s on par with any past sidekicks with speaking roles. He’s much more.


Sometimes I wonder if Frozen seems fresh to me because of the wonderfully upturned Disney tropes or because I’m seeing all these wonderfully upturned Disney tropes in a Disney movie. But at the end of the day, I guess it doesn’t really matter, because my initial reaction to it was a soaring kind of joy, helped along by a stressful week at work.

Frozen had me worried throughout, though. There are two guys, Hans and Kristoff, and at least one of them is bound to end up with either princess, with the remaining one going to the remaining girl (well, according to movie logic anyway). But Elsa is way too messed-up an individual to be in a romance with anybody–and thankfully, this is addressed in the most modern way possible. (“Yes, I’m alone, but alone and free.”)

Kudos also to that twist involving Prince Hans, I really didn’t see it coming. But I guess one of my favorite-ever surprises was how the true love’s kiss trope got turned on its head. One of the things that really bothered me about Disney movies, although they comprise most of my happy childhood, was that the princesses rarely save themselves or the day (and that’s why I adore Mulan and Tiana). Anna not only saves the day–she saves Elsa, thus saving herself. That’s got to be one of the most powerful messages of love and family and self-worth Disney has ever broadcasted. She’s got the most growth of anyone in the movie; Elsa realizing the key to controlling her powers was just a little too quick for me.

I do have some minor quibbles with the movie. It doesn’t explain why Elsa has ice powers, much like the way Tangled explained Rapunzel’s healing hair (although there’s a deleted song somewhere on Youtube that mentions something about a prophecy, I just can’t find it at the moment).

I also thought that Anna’s forgetting Elsa’s powers were going to play more of a role in the movie, or at least have a more dramatic return to consciousness–that would have made for some great drama, right alongside Elsa revealing to Anna the catalyst reason for why they lived like shut-ins for over ten years in the first place.

I thought Kristoff was going to reveal how he saw his troll family reverse Anna’s Elsa-induced ice injury when they were all children–I was going to let that one go until I realized he probably heard the trolls whispering how the king and the queen were present with their daughters. Anna did tell him she was raised in a castle.

But like I said, those are minor quibbles. I had more things to love about Frozen than to complain about. Like how it didn’t end in a wedding, for instance. And the way Elsa’s hairstyle phases in “Let It Go” and how she looks so confident at the end of that song (and maybe that entire sequence in general). And that little line in the end credits: “Inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Snow Queen.'”

Overall, Frozen has a lot of the heart, magic, music, and a good deal of the modern interpretations of love and female roles down pat. It’s not in traditional animation, which I adore, but at the very least, the computer graphics are very smooth (minus the part where Elsa’s braid phases through her arm, but I didn’t notice that the first time around). I hope Disney keeps it up for future movies.

Fact vs. Fiction: On reading social issues in Disney’s ‘The Princess and the Frog’ (a response)

Poster of "The Princess and the Frog," taken from  the movie's Wikipedia entry.
Poster of “The Princess and the Frog,” taken from the movie’s Wikipedia entry.

Yesterday, I came across this blog post called The Pricess and the Frog: A Feminist Fairytale from It was a trend for me because I was researching on what others had to say about Hercules (1997) and The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) (and their respective TV spin-offs), and yes, I adore The Princess and the Frog (2009). It was the first movie my boyfriend and I saw together (on his laptop in our university’s study hall).

I’ve known a long while now that Disney, even though I grew up with and loved its 90s Renaissance era films, wasn’t exactly known for its feminism, historical accuracy, and cultural representation, to name a few things. But I decided to open that can of worms, in the name of picking up a few useful somethings.

Note that I only carry these opinions because I was raised in a traditionally patriarchal Filipino setting, on a steady diet of Western cartoons and books—but somehow, I don’t buy the traditional gender roles foisted upon women by my own culture. It was not just the Disney Princess line at work on my psyche here.

Anyway, the post itself is all right, but it’s the comments that are a riot. I’m always surprised (occasionally taken aback) by the sheer number of people who misread a work of art, whether this is overreading or not reading enough. Someone in the thread said something along the lines of “It’s okay, it’s just fiction,” and it got me wondering: when is it appropriate to say that and when is it just an excuse?

I’m not saying my own interpretation of the film is 100% correct, but that is the beauty of art: there is no “correct” interpretation.

However, the work itself has a scope and limitations, just like any decent research paper, and some people like to criticize art for things that are way beyond its implied scope and limitations. I’m not saying you can’t stretch its limits, but oftentimes, people forget its scope in a critique.

Case in point. Some of the comments (before they devolved into a critique of one person’s comment about personally not finding anything wrong with wanting a family even after getting an Ivy league education and the first, vicious reaction to this comment) discuss how the film completely disregards the social and classist issues prevailing in 1930s New Orleans that really hindered the so-called “glorified individualism” part of American culture, as exhibited by Tiana’s character.

Also discussed is the “problem” of Tiana and Lottie’s friendship, which boiled down to “why is there a problem with portraying wealthy black families onscreen?”

The issue of marriage naturally came up as well, about whether it was a side plot or something necessary for the hard-working career woman to have. And the speciesism? I couldn’t even wrap my head around that one; more research on my part is needed.

Now, if I said “it’s only fiction” to these people, that would be an excuse to get away from all these arguments.

In art and in life, a delicate balance of both must be struck; you’re never going to get it completely (exhibit A: Disney’s misrepresentation of the Voodoo religion), but you’re never gonna please everybody, either. I laud Disney for really attempting the balance, though.

I don’t know squat about the race issues between blacks and whites in America beyond what I’ve seen on TV and read in books, being a Southeast Asian living in the Philippines whose people have their own race issues. But I do know that The Princess and the Frog is a G-rated Disney musical for children. I highly doubt it could have been classified as such if the problems of the Deep South in the 20s and 30s were accurately represented; liberties will and must be taken. Moreover, it was wonderful to see a Disney heroine with so single-minded a purpose as a achieving a dream that has nothing to do with Prince Charming or happily ever after—something I didn’t quite feel in its successor, Tangled (2010).

Children’s movies need a healthy mix of fantasy and reality to get the message across. Maybe for Disney, some social issues need to take a backseat in order to tackle the main one? I don’t know. They’re not known for being good at that, so I suppose this effort in that context is a big one.

As a children’s movie, I think it depicted just enough of reality (like when Tiana and her mother were taking the bus home and it was shown that their neighborhood consisted solely of financially-struggling blacks). I had no problem with Lottie and her family being rich and white because that was the way things were, back in the day. What was truly remarkable about Lottie and Tiana’s friendship was that it existed at all—and sure, it’s only fiction. Maybe that kind of family with that kind of attitude toward people was not the norm in the American South of the 20s. Lottie and her dad are the exception, and an exceptional fictional example of human decency. Her friendship with Tiana is so strong that she, in full princess-bride get up and inches away from her dream of becoming a princess and getting her prince and happily ever after, offers to kiss Naveen in order to break the spell–no marriage required. How’s that for debunking the infamous Disney Princess image?

Kids are intelligent, no denying that. But the age group to which Disney caters should be shown movies accurately depicting life’s harsh realities when their ages hit the double-digits. Let them have their happy childhoods first, or they will grow up cynical. Besides, many of the more complicated symbolisms go over their heads anyway (example: I did not realize the sexual politics behind Hercules until I was much older); for as long as they’re at the age they are, we should keep molding their foundations with positive messages. And when that’s been built, then do you let them see the darker side and the gray patches of reality.

In the end, I have yet to make up my mind as to whether or not the human race places too much emphasis in the role of media as the hands that form the clay of the human mind. I think of the Catholic Church and well-meaning parents who go to crazy lengths to censor a work for its “depravity” or “obscenity” or whatever, even if all the work does is work along the lines of “what if.” I think that’s when it’s okay to say “it’s only fiction”—when the work is challenging one’s pre-conceived notions and the “taboo” status of a subect. One must delineate between fact and fiction…but at the same time, one must be open to what it might be trying to say, as all good fiction contains a grain of truth.

The only time it’s not okay is when it outright fictionalizes and romanticizes—not merely borrows elements from—an existing culture. That’s a recipe for promoting stereotypes. Perhaps that is why Disney will always have the problem of culture, gender, and sex on its hands, as it often fails to strike a balance when depicting cultures completely foreign (look at the way Genie in Aladdin (1990) and Mushu in Mulan (1998) are so staunchly American—perhaps that is their way of keeping up audience interest).

The Princess and the Frog, however flawed it may be, is a big step in that long way to go. Let’s see how Disney does with Frozen.

Learning to take care of your sanity, or enjoying rest in all its forms

I had one of those rare days off in which I simply stayed at home in my house clothes and did nothing but eat/lounge around/mentally work out a few stories/play computer games/surf the internet all day.

I watched two episodes of Disney’s TV spin-off of the Hercules movie and discovered that I really like it, whatever reviewers may say.

I even went on to see what a bunch of blogs had to say about Disney movies (particularly The Princess and the Frog) and their feminisim or lack thereof (needless to say, I opened a can of worms).

Reading all those reviews got me thinking about a certain point regarding how it’s okay to say of a work that it’s only fiction sometimes and at others, dispute how it is untrue to life and unfair to certain minority groups even if “it’s only fiction”—but that merits a whole other post altogether.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that today was rather productive, if only because it engaged my thinking faculties. I am trying to tell myself that it is all right to spend a day mostly resting—even from writing stories or catching up on submission deadlines—because sometimes what you really need to do is let your brain veg.

I don’t know if I’ll ever again have a day spent mindlessly playing computer games or doing something certain high-powered individuals I know wouls call “useless” or “lazy.” But if I ever do, I am training myself to think that that’s all right, too.

After all, it would be best for my sanity to move on my own time, at my own pace, and do whatever I want to do with what I’ve been given.