Nothing
against Belle, because I still love her – definitely one of my top-tier Disney princesses,
and you may find her featured on the blog as well one of these days. I wanted to write about the Beast, though,
because the new live-action movie really opened him up for me as a
character. I always enjoyed the Beast
well enough in the original, but as far as love interests go, he didn’t make
the sort of lasting impression on me that, say, Shang from Mulan did (granted, Shang has an awesome song.) But after the
live-action movie? So much love for the
Beast, and not just because he now has an awesome song of his own. (Note:
the Internet tells me that, technically, the Beast’s name is Adam, but
since they never use it in the film, I’m gonna stick with “the Beast.”)
What I
immediately love about this portrayal of the Beast is how clearly he’s still
that vain, petulant prince under the fur and the fangs. The enchantress may have transformed him to
teach him a lesson, but until the events of the film, the Beast has almost obstinately refused to learn it.
Instead, he’s retreated into his misery and anger, rattling around the
castle with only the servants for company for years. When he does
encounter other people, he takes his situation out on them, first imprisoning
Maurice and then having Belle take his place.
He plays the “big scary monster” card a lot early on, inviting people’s
fear before they have a chance to express revulsion or disgust at him.
He’s
really a piece of work, and I like that.
While he is of course redeemable, and we see the changes in him
occurring gradually throughout the movie, he has a long way to go. Much of it is, again, tied up in his own
feelings of despair/anger/loneliness/fear/take your pick – he’s desperate to
prove he has some semblance of control in his life, and so he throws his weight
around and tries to control others – but the film doesn’t take that for an
excuse, and it (and Belle) insists on better from him if he’s going to make it.
We see
his princely personality coming through in less-threatening qualities,
too. As he valiantly tries to keep up
decorum or make his matted mane presentable, you feel every inch of the
self-consciousness of an arrogant man miserably trying to make due with the
appearance of a “hideous beast.” He can
be inconsiderate more general ways (not thinking twice about ragging on Belle
for her love of Romeo and Juliet,) as
well as stubborn (trying to argue his way out of it when Belle later finds him reading
a romance of his own.)
But as
time goes by, the Beast learns to change in both the big and small ways. He starts to realize that his pain isn’t a
license to lash out at others, and he doesn’t act like a monster as a defense
mechanism. He sees that he can’t just
rage when he doesn’t get his way, and he learns, perhaps begrudgingly, to laugh
at himself, which keeps him of feeling so ashamed of what he is. He begins to
understand that truly connecting with someone means considering their needs as
well as his own and making concessions when necessary – when it counts, he’s
prepared to make big sacrifices, risking his own salvation for the sake of
another.
And yeah,
because it bears repeating: “Evermore,” people. I love it so much.
No comments:
Post a Comment