Posts Tagged ‘Princess and the frog’

You heard me, this post is all about how a myriad of cheesy songs is what makes a Disney film, (and NOT a Disney-Pixar movie, those people have lost touch with the art of a good ol’ ballad right in the middle of a dialogue!) the magical vessels of sunshine and rainbows that they are; fun for all the family. Musicals, I find, are like Marmite; you love them, or you absolutely-can’t-stand-this-my-ears-are-bleeding-why-are-you-doing-this-to-me hate them. I love them; quite frankly I think that when one becomes averse to musicals, the song in your heart has been silenced.

Imagine ‘Frozen’ for example, stripped of all Elsa’s heart-wrenching melodies that communicate her anguish, her loss, and her struggle for self-acceptance, reduced to a film with no moments when Ana and Hans kick up their heels to revel in new found (infantile, but we love it) romance; proclaiming that ‘love is an open door’ to the heavens. Imagine never having your spine tingle when the story’s villain unleashes their skin-crawlingy, delicious but dangerous smoky voice to put us under their evil spell (Doctor Facilier, played by Keith David in the ‘Princess and The Frog’, is an excellent example of this). Sounds quite mediocre if you ask me.

(My sister and I ADORE ‘The Muses’ – 5 fiery women with heavenly voices that narrate ‘Hercules’ through the power of song)

I have a new-found understanding for Disney films, and I enjoy them more now than I ever did when I was an illiterate tot. I watch them in the present, and feel an immense recognition for the protagonists and their difficulties. Disney films, in reality, are coming of age stories, about following your dreams and searching for belonging. It’s comforting for me to watch these as a teenager who feels ready for more responsibility, but is unsure of change, and fears being stranded in the big wide world that lies in wait on my doorstep.

I feel this magic, an excitement bubbling up inside of me whenever the next song intro starts up; it’s like I feel completely safe with all my anxieties, because someone else is going through it too; the songs are my inner monologues set to music. And of course, the story will always have a happy ending – if they can make it, so can I. It’s more than childhood nostalgia; being reminiscent of a time when things were simple and you were sheltered, it’s a way for me to know that I’m not alone. When everything is resolved in the end, and there is cheesiness of an even higher magnitude, I feel the joy for life that I hope I always feel, the lust and the courage to be okay with setbacks, because I have learnt that I can be my own hero.