Disney’s Big of Tricks: Live-Action Remakes

I haven’t done a Bag of Tricks write-up in a long time. I recall having lots of plans for the sort of topics I could use it for after doing my first one for Buster Keaton (literal years ago,) but they just kind of never materialized. But seeing—and loving!—the new Little Mermaid made me think again about Disney’s live-action remakes as a whole. What commonalities unite them, what often works, what tends not to, and what can go either way. Quick caveat: I haven’t seen all the remakes to date, and for the sake of this post, I’m not including villain-centric reimaginings like Maleficent. So here, I’ll mainly be drawing from The Jungle Book, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King, and The Little Mermaid. (Let’s be honest, it’s mostly gonna be Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Little Mermaid—I know who I am.)

 

CGI-apalooza

For movies that bill themselves as live-action, many of these movies extensively—or even entirely—rely on CGI. The hook here, though, is “photorealism.” The talking animals in these movies, along with the talking clocks and teapots, look like actual animals, clocks, and teapots. In some cases, that’s come across as a bit nightmarish. Prior to The Little Mermaid’s release, the reaction to the first images of Sebastian were not good. In others, the CGI works against with the story, with the photorealistic animals being unable to emote like their 2D animated predecessors did. The Lion King was especially hampered by this.

 

Nostalgia Bait

Okay, we all know that this is the real reason all of these movies exist. We don’t need any of them, but Disney knows it can rake in cash based on Gen Xers and millennials looking back fondly on our childhoods and the soundtracks we listened to a zillion times. That can be a double-edged sword, because how tricky is it to measure up to a beloved childhood classic? But at the same time, we keep buying the tickets. I know these movies are baiting cash grabs, but I still got chills the first time I watched the Beauty and the Beast trailer and heard those opening notes.

 

Revisions and “Updates”

Each remake has, in different ways, sought to clarify or correct aspects of the original. When done well, this can add beautifully to the film. I’m on record as loving the themes that The Jungle Book brings to the story as it examines the conflict of whether or not Mowgli “belongs” in the jungle, and The Little Mermaid did a bang-up job giving Eric a more clearly defined character. Other times, these changes bring a “we know better” vibe of “fixing” what wasn’t necessarily broken to begin with. Like, I didn’t need “what happened to Belle’s mother” to be a subplot in Beauty and the Beast (she’s a Disney protagonist, obviously she has a dead parent!), and the change to Aladdin tricking the Genie to get them out of the Cave of Wonders, little though it was, bugged me. For what?

 

Girlbossing!

The remakes have been cognizant in how they portray their princesses, which, don’t get me wrong, is a good thing. I didn’t need to see Jafar perving over Jasmine, so I’m glad we didn’t. It’s neat that Belle is an inventor and that Jasmine wants to be a sultana. I really like that Ariel gets a bit more agency during her voiceless scenes. But at the same time, the remakes can be so intent on delivering “Disney Princess, now with added feminism!” that they can lose sight of the fact that the princesses were already pretty darn great in their original incarnations. Jasmine is the hardest hit here—I mean, yeah, she sings a song about how she won’t be silent, and that’s cool, but she doesn’t even say, “I am not a prize to be won”???

 

More Romance

Again, the originals already had some sweet romances, but this is one area where I think the remakes have consistently succeeded in enhancing the good stuff that was already there. Part of this has been giving more perspective to the second leads—namely the Beast, Jasmine, and Eric—making them more like co-leads. But more than anything, we just spend more time with these pairs as they get to know each other and fall in love. I’m 100% here for Belle teasing the Beast over reading King Arthur, Aladdin trying to sneak into the palace to visit Jasmine when he still thinks she’s just a handmaiden, and Ariel and Eric bonding over the collection he’s cultivated during his travels. This, more than anything I think, is the best reason for the remakes’ existence.

 

Original Songs

The Jungle Book only had a couple of the classic songs in it, and while The Lion King had a couple new songs, they weren’t really sung by characters in the context of the movie. But Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Little Mermaid all feature at least one brand-new song in addition to the old favorites. In particular, each gives a solo to the second lead, who previously didn’t have one. “Evermore” is gorgeous and angsty and I love it, and as I’ve been listening to the new Little Mermaid soundtrack lately, I’ve found I often have to play “Wild Uncharted Waters” at least twice before I can move onto the next song. What can I say, Alan Menken’s still got it, baby! I also appreciate a few new reprises that put a new spin on the original songs. For Aladdin, it’s a second reprise of “One Jump Ahead,” where we now get, “Riff raff, street rat. / Would they think that / If they look much closer?” And The Little Mermaid gives us a devastating second reprise of “Part of that World,” where the voiceless Ariel sings in inner monologue, “What did I give to live where you are?” Chef’s kiss!

Looking at this list, there’s more in the “meh” to “dubious” range than “good” to “amazing.” And yet, somehow, I keep watching these movies and I keep liking them, especially my beloved Core Three. And yeah, some of it is nostalgia, but I could also just rewatch the originals for the umpteenth time, and instead I’ve given some of my love to these new versions. I guess, for me, that means they’re worthwhile. Whether it’s for the sheer drama of Dan Stevens wistfully singing “Evermore,” the charming chemistry between Mena Massoud and Naomi Scott, or the actual siren beauty of Halle Bailey’s voice, these movies have a place, and I’m glad we have them.

Tom McCarthy’s Bag of Tricks

I don’t have a laundry list of common traits for Tom McCarthy’s films – not like I did for Buster Keaton – although he does have a number of tools he regularly employs in his writing.  Instead, I’m focusing today on what I think of as the quintessential Tom McCarthy character dynamic.

I use The Station Agent for my template, since it’s the first film McCarthy wrote, as well as the first of his that I saw.  It’s in that movie that we see the prime example of what seems to be McCarthy’s preferred relationship arc.  Our protagonist is Finn, a softspoken loner who, upon inheriting an abandoned train depot in rural New Jersey, moves into it with the intention of enjoying the solitude.  However, his peace and quiet is disrupted by Joe, an exuberantly extroverted hot dog vendor with a passion for making friends, and Olivia, a lonely artist still struggling with a lingering personal tragedy.  Despite Finn’s insistence that he doesn’t want anyone in his life, his new acquaintances/friends slowly start making their way past his defenses.

This film, then, gives us our basic character formations.  We have the Finn, the Joe, and the Olivia.  Though the precise details of these characters’ personalities, meetings, and subsequent interactions vary, we see them repeat themselves throughout a number of McCarthy’s works.  Take McCarthy’s second film, The Visitor.  Walter, our lead character, is definitely a Finn.  A widowed college professor shuffling through a stagnant existence, Walter’s isolation weighs more heavily on him than Finn’s, but even so, he’s resistant to the unexpected new additions to his circle of acquaintances, a young immigrant couple (to be fair, that’s in part because he finds them squatting in his mostly-unused second home in NYC.)  Still, his loneliness spurs him to accept Tarek and Zainab’s tentative offers of companionship, and his life soon changes radically as Tarek introduces him to the djembe and the world of street drumming.  As a character, Zainab is a little more nebulous, but friendly, cheerful Tarek is undeniably a Joe.  Meanwhile, Tarek’s mother Mouna, who appears in the second half of the film, gives off some reasonable Olivia vibes with the gently-hesitant bond she develops with Walter in the midst of a tough time.

What really clinches the format me, though, is Up.  Even though every Pixar movie is obviously a major group effort and McCarthy is maybe the least significant of the film’s three writers, it’s essentially a fantastical adventure story about a Finn who’s surrounded by Joes.  Sad, cranky Carl has shut everyone out since his wife died, and he’s planning to spend the rest of his life on a patch of virtually-untouched jungle – can’t be much more alone than that!  However, Russell, a young wilderness explorer scout tenaciously pursuing his “assisting the elderly” badge, has other ideas.  Not only does the irrepressible Russell wind up accidentally stowing away on Carl’s adventure, he also starts acquiring new animal friends the second they arrive in Paradise Falls.  Russell is plenty Joe-ish, as is the pestery exotic bird Kevin, but Dug – a golden retriever fitted with an electronic collar that translates his thoughts/barks into human speech – is Joe all over.  I mean, “I have just met you, and I love you [platonically]” could pretty much be Joe’s life motto.

To be fair, the dynamic isn’t as pronounced in Win Win – with Mike and Kyle, you have some Finn- and Olivia-ish tendencies, but it’s less defined – and Spotlight really doesn’t use it at all (not that there’s room for it in the kind of story that film is telling.)  I also haven’t seen Million Dollar Arm or The Cobbler, so I’m not sure if we see these particular character interactions there.  But even just looking at the three films above, the pattern is clear.

Buster Keaton’s Bag of Tricks (Filmmaker)

Time for another look at the tools of Buster Keaton’s trade.  We’ve already talked about him as a performer, but today is about his work as a writer, director, and gag man.  (He really was quite the auteur, wasn’t he?)  Spoilers for certain almost-100-year-old gags.

 

Rube Goldberg Devices

I doubt Buster ever met a machine that didn’t fascinate him.  Throughout his career, he came up with all sorts of clever mechanics from the bell-ringer in The High Sign to the inventive breakfast-making gadgets in The Navigator.  His best are the contraptions that do double duty; most famously, there’s the Rube Goldberg house in The Scarecrow, where everything serves dual functions (the bookcase/refrigerator and stove/record player are my favorites.)

Chase Scenes

Could anyone stage a chase like Buster?  He dives through trap doors, scrambles up fire escapes, hides in plain sight as statues, executes tricky moves with elevators, forms human ladders, tries to make getaways on wooden horses, leaps between buildings, and uses ladders like seesaws, and that’s just off the top of my head.  I’ve never seen anyone so creatively fleet-footed.

Circular Gags

Buster liked riding a comic sequence back around to its starting point.  There’s the moment in Neighbors when he zips over the clothesline to escape his girl’s father, but then slides down the bannister and rides the clothesline right back over.  One Week has another great example when, after he and his bride hop out of the car driven by her jealous ex, Buster whacks a police man on the head, blames the ex, and gets back in the car as the policeman drags the ex out of it.  Sometimes, while working with elaborate sets, he pulls the camera back far enough to see the literal circles he makes as he treats the set like his own personal jungle gym.

Going Out on a Punch Line

Buster’s films are usually good for ending on one final joke, like he can’t give up the chance to make you laugh once more before you go.  I love the ending of Our Hospitality, where he throws off his blanket to reveal all his concealed guns, and Sherlock Jr.’s terrific last sequence, where he takes cues from a movie to woo his girl, ends on a fantastic shot of him perplexedly trying to figure out how the characters onscreen got from sharing a kiss to raising twins.

Planes (Boats), Trains, and Automobiles

Put Buster in the vicinity of a vehicle, and you know you’re in for comic gold.  There’s a reason The General is considered his masterpiece – the train gags are sharp, hilarious, and endlessly inventive.  The Navigator and The Boat are basically just excuses for doing as many sea-vessel jokes as possible, and there are plenty of Buster movies with memorable car gags (it’s hard to beat the collapsing car in Three Ages, but I also love the drive-by proposal in Seven Chances.)