Anti-Theme Songs are the ones that interest me most, but the most important song in a musical is usually the “I Want” Song. Described by Howard Ashman:
“In almost every musical ever written, there’s a place, it’s usually about the third song of the evening–sometimes it’s the second, sometimes it’s the fourth–but it’s quite early, and the leading lady usually sits down on something, sometimes it’s a tree stump in Brigadoon, sometimes it’s under the pillars of a garden in My Fair Lady, or it’s a trash can in Little Shop of Horrors, but the leading lady sits down on something and sings about what she wants in life. And the audience falls in love with her, and then roots for her to get it for the rest of the night.” (Waking Sleeping Beauty).
Ashman famously had to fight Jeffrey Katzenberg for the inclusion of “Part of Your World” in The Little Mermaid. That song became one of the most memorable parts of the movie. It shows us who Ariel is and makes her instantly likeable.
From that point, almost all Disney musicals have had “I Want” Songs in the first act.
In fact, the step became a cliché. When Pixar set out to make their first movie, “I Want” Songs were one of the things they vowed to avoid. And then the studio told them to add one!
From Andrew Stanton’s TED Talk. Left side, what Pixar wanted. Right side, what the studio wanted.
In the end, Toy Story did not end up with an “I Want” Song. The clarification of Woody’s drive comes when he’s knocked off the bed, replaced by Buzz. It’s instantly clear how he feels and what he wants, without a song and dance.
But sometimes, a song and dance with a clear desire can be the best part of the story.
In the next post, I’ll discuss why a character’s desire is so important in driving plot.
Twenty years after The Lion King‘s release, many people still say “Hakuna Matata” as genuine advice. They usually don’t realize that was the OPPOSITE of the film’s message.
Consider the scene where Nala confronts Simba in the forest:
Nala: What wouldn’t I understand?
Simba: (Hastily) No, no, no. It doesn’t matter. Hakuna Matata.
Nala: (Confused) What?
Simba: Hakuna Matata. It’s something I learned out here. Look, sometimes bad things happen…
Nala: Simba!
Simba: (Continuing, irritated)–and there’s nothing you can do about it so why worry?
(Simba starts away from Nala, walking on a fallen tree. Nala trots back up to him)
Nala: Because it’s your responsibility.
Simba is similarly chastised by the film’s other mentor characters.
Mufasa: Oh, there’s more to being king than getting your way all the time.
Rafiki: Oh yes. The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it… or… learn from it.
Ignoring the past with “no worries” causes pain for others when Scar takes over. “Hakuna Matata” is the anti-theme of The Lion King, while the actual theme is about facing the past and taking responsibility.
Anti-theme songs are a useful too. A lot of musicals use this anti-theme of relaxing and inaction. They’re often the most popular songs in the story.
The most popular anti-theme song out now is “Let it Go” from Frozen. Elsa revelling in power alone, singing “turn away and slam the door” is in direct opposition to film’s real message of love’s importance, even using the opposite metaphor of “love is an open door.”
If these songs are the opposite of the stories’ messages, why are they so much fun? Two reasons.
1) Freedom. Is it really surprising that “no worries for the rest of your days” produces a more fun song than “face responsibility for the past?” Escapism has a strong allure. Other anti-theme songs are displays of power, since the characters don’t have to worry about the consequences of their actions.
2) They have to be. Stories are about choices. Eventually, the protagonist has to choose between the theme and the anti-theme. Unless the anti-theme seems attractive, it’s going to be an incredibly easy choice and the audience won’t care.
As I close, let me address a couple foreseen areas of confusion. How do you know the story’s real theme?
You need to determine the story’s value system. When do good things happen? When do bad things happen? What is shown as the path to victory?
The most obvious stories have the hero smack the villain on the head with an item that symbolizes one of their friends (Ex. Wreck-It Ralph). Other times, the hero is given a note or shouts a quote from a previous scene. One bizarre example is Jackie Chan’s last fight in Gorgeous, where he wins by smiling.
Another anticipated question: Well then, where are the real theme songs? You think “Love Is An Open Door” is a theme song? Fritz is a bad guy, sillyhead!
I echo their horror; however, in the interest of original content, I’m going to focus on some areas that haven’t received as much attention. Before diving in, I’d like to note that I consider myself a Disney fan: Winnie the Pooh, The Lion King, Lilo and Stitch, etc.
Disney’s Globetrotting
One of Disney’s greatest possible strengths is the diversity of locations they use for their films.
Map by reddit user translucentfish
This could, if done right, bring a vibrant array of cultures to the screen. It could unite people and spread magic. If you listen to animators talk about their work on The Emperor’s New Groove during the documentary The Sweatbox, it’s clear that’s how they see their work.
However, Sting disagrees. In a candid moment after they’ve revealed the then-current ending as “Kuzco gets a waterslide”, Sting addresses the camera:
“It’s a real concern of mine that I’m allied to this organization that seems to want to take the best of different cultures and suck them up and then spit them out to make something that’s like a hamburger.”
I encountered another way of phrasing this criticism in Writing the Other by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. They discuss three ways to write about a culture that is not your own: as an invader, as a tourist, or as a guest.
Invaders arrive without warning, take whatever they want for use in whatever way they see fit. They destroy without thinking anything that appears to them to be valueless. They stay as long as they like, leave at their own convenience. Theirs is a position of entitlement without allegiance.
This is the way that Disney writes about other cultures. They send artists to scout locations, but then pick and choose the details of culture that work best for their films. The worst example of this is probably Pocahontas (although the distinction for worst portrayal of First Nations people still goes to Peter Pan).
That’s from 1953, and perhaps unfair to today’s animators and story people, but still.
Disney’s goal is not to widen acceptance or understanding of the cultures they write about. Their goal is to make a film that is well received by their market.
Toys
And what a market it is. This Christmas, when I went to Toys R’ Us to buy a gift for my niece, I was a little horrified at the gigantic Disney Princess display that devoured the front of the store. I don’t have a picture of the exact display, but it was similar to this picture from the Toys R’ Us website.
fun note: all white, blondes in centre
The depiction of Merida pains me particularly, but the marketing to children of this image of femininity bothers me as a whole. As other bloggers have noted, it undermines any positive female characters they manage to create in their films because they’re eventually going to get reduced into photoshopped wide-eyed princesses with sparkles shooting out of their ears.
The thing is… people buy these toys. Despite videos of some kids complaining…
…there are other kids and parents who fully embrace this image. Which leads into another larger conversation I’m not ready to dive into right now. Are they making this stuff because people want it, or do people want it because this is what has been made for decades?
How can we convince them that people are also willing to buy things that are different? Like a doll of Merida that looks like the Merida from the film?
Who is Disney? Who is their Market?
One of the things I try to remember when raging against Disney stories is that Disney is not one person. Disney stories are made by a whole bunch of people who flow between Disney, Dreamworks, and Pixar. This makes it a little harder to blame all of past-Disney’s mistakes on current-Disney’s story team, which is actually improving.
There’s also a distinction between Disney’s filmmakers, and their toymakers, and their marketers, and their television shows. It’s unfair to expect any single person working at Disney to undo the entire Disney Machine.
Parts of the Disney Machine are producing pretty good stuff. Frozen is a solid step forward. It’s not where I want them to be yet, (see the article where the animator talked about trouble drawing women because they have to be cute) but I’m a believer that you have to reward steps forward in order to encourage further steps forward. It’s also a fun movie, plain and simple.
As another example, consider Disney’s current big shows for preschool:
Left: Jake and the Never Land Pirates. Right: Sofia the First
Jake and the Never Land Pirates has a diverse cast of kids! I feel like it’s one of the first stories set in the Peter Pan world that I actually support. It’s magic, it’s fun, it’s inviting. Sofia the First is… well, all the usual Disney Machine problems. I’m peeved it beat Bubble Guppies for the Annie Award.
The machine has already changed over time, and it’s improving. Unfortunately, I’m not sure it’ll ever catch up to where I want it to be, because there are sections of the machine designed for a market that is very not me.
That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the things (or parts of things) the machine manages to produce that I like.
Next time I’ll look at someone who I think handled these issues (and others) much better, with a breakdown of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away.
Bill Radford's Breakdowns 