The Little Mermaid: Looks can be Deceiving

 

     Back in elementary school, there was a girl in my grade. Her name was Arielle, and she was insanely talented in just about everything that was relevant in the bizarre social sphere of those recess days. She had quite a great singing voice, was a very capable actress when it came to our mandatory school plays, was "pretty" by whatever beauty standards Disney Channel or Nickelodeon engraved in us, and she was a generally good student. Everyone outside of her own clique despised her. Although we never really tried to talk to her, whenever she would speak, there was this sense of arrogance and pride in whatever she said, no matter how minute the topic was. I think that a common stigma associated with her was a sense of hubris, that she would brag about her talents and academic skills, while a majority of us Nixon kids couldn't as much sing without being ridiculed. In a way I was kind of being extremely inconsiderate to her, and I think a majority of my grade was also being unfair to her. These thoughts on Arielle mirror my thoughts on a film with a similarly titled protagonist: The Little Mermaid. 

      The Little Mermaid is something with which I have a complicated history with. When I was quite young, the primary Disney media I approached and watched included films such as Bolt and Pinocchio, and television shows such as Gravity Falls and, at the earliest I could remember, the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse educational program. As you could tell, these media properties aren't generally propelled towards a specific gender, and are more gender neutral. As a child, I loved all the action spectacles that many little boys loved, but there were some Disney films that I avoided. Mainly the Disney Princess movies. Societal standards had taught me as a boy that I should be into boy things, not girly things.  Obviously as a teen, that stuff is quite silly in hindsight, but you're able to rationalize it when you're a four-year-old. So throughout my childhood, I weaved in and out of various fandoms, including the video game fandom, the beyblade fandom, the B-Daman fandom, and the Danball Senki fandom (Betcha never heard of this one). By this time I had phased out of these fandoms, I was roughly in the middle school phase, and at this point, no one cared what your opinion was. It didn't matter if you were a brony or not. If you were nice, people would talk to you. My worldview also started expanding at this point. No longer was I limited to only being aware of the local news, but now I was more aware and in tune with the global issues beyond "World Hunger." I was aware of civil rights, political conflict, and as I ventured further into high school, the idea of toxic masculinity, which refers to the social expectations and stereotypes of men that can be referred to as harmful or even bad. 

  So, how's this related to The Little Mermaid? Well, The Little Mermaid is the exact type of film that wouldn't fit the terms of a 4-year old Matthew. It is quite a feminine movie, dealing with romance, and having a female protagonist.  Also, it was a musical, and obviously I, as a stupid child, had the idea that only girls liked musicals. I feared my friends would laugh at me for liking a "girls movie," because that's how immature elementary schoolers are. As a 4-year old I wouldn't even try to look at the movie, because it was "too girly" for me. Then, there's also the issue of Ariel's clothing. So for the most part, Ariel is usually depicted in her seashell bikini. I think that many children are raised with the belief that showing skin is more or less indecent, and that you should try to do so as little as possible. I always questioned why, of all the Disney characters, Ariel was the one that had to show the most skin. Even though I understood the practicality of her outfit under the sea, I still felt it was not exactly "moral" to be wearing that type of outfit. Of course, now, there are many moral complexities, and there are far worse things than wearing a bikini.

     I also have a sort of complicated history with Disney itself. I mostly fell into the "teenage" trap of liking "edgy" things, like anime or gritty cinema. I would say for years that Universal Studios was the superior theme park to Disneyland, and it seemed that a lot of my classmates agreed (We had a poll in Math class, Universal won). Disney was no longer cool to like, as it seemed so childish and distant to me. 

     Looking back on that, it all seems so silly. People need to look beyond the exterior, and more unto the heart and soul of something, rather than judging it by its looks alone. When I went on my Disney Renaissance marathon, I watched The Little Mermaid, and I was genuinely blown away by its greatness. 

    One of the great things about The Little Mermaid is its vivid color palette, which is vibrant and varied. It is an aesthetically pleasing film to look at, and it is not very reminiscent of the rough xerography that had defined Disney for the previous 26 years. As a musical, it is Disney's best musical. The score itself feels so full of exuberance, something which is only further bolstered through the quite clever word play that lyricist Howard Ashman employs in the film. His lyrics flow like a river, something which feels distinct from the other Disney lyricists which have scored for the Renaissance. The score and songs drive the film and its narrative, and because of their strength, the film as a whole is stronger. Ariel herself is quite a likeable protagonist, because her wide-eyed innocence is easy to relate to. Her desire is not solely tied to her love for Eric, however. She is interested in the human world as a whole, which is akin to exploring the unknown, something far more interesting than the general boy swooning of many romances. There's also undeniable chemistry between Ariel and Eric, which makes them feel like an adorable couple. Ursula strikes that balance of camp and seriousness as a Disney Villain, which someone like Ratcliffe fails to do. The facial expressions are very strong and expressive, never feeling too exaggerated, but also giving off more than enough emotion to give the viewers a general sense of the character's headspace. I also believe that there's a lot of well done dialogue between Triton and Ariel. Triton is a father that is far more sympathetic and understanding than most Disney parents. It also never fails to put a smile on your face, and is just a very wholesome film, something generally welcome for these increasingly cynical modern times. 

    I loved the Little Mermaid, but as my friend once said on his Eurobeat playlist "Don't judge me lmao." In essence, as a whole, we should stop trying to judge people for liking media or subjects that go against the cultural precedents that were once set for us. I think it would be better as a whole to teach the younger generations that there are no preset conditions for enjoying something, and that one should not be bound to a certain type of media. 

    Similarly, I don't believe that we should have to judge something based on its looks alone. Looking back on my elementary school days, I believe that Arielle was judged unfairly for her seemingly "annoying" personality. We should have given her a chance. Well at least her friends did. So did OCSA. It was a mistake then for all of us to dismiss her, but all we can do now if learn from it, and choose to treat others with kindness, no matter our preconceived judgments. If the Little Mermaid taught me anything on a grander scale, it's to look further on the inside. If I hadn't watched the film, I wouldn't have discovered a very joyous and heart-warming musical that feels extremely "Disney" at its core. I know it's kind of strange that I took it away from this film and not Beauty and the Beast, but it doesn't truly matter. So next time you encounter someone or something you are wary of, spend some time with them rather than brushing them off. There may be something there that wasn't there before.