Beauty and the Beast

Bill Condon’s Beauty and the Beast is Disney’s most anticipated release of the year, based heavily on Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise’s timeless, beloved 1991 classic of the same name. As with many live action remakes of Disney’s classic titles, the film features an “updated” aesthetic, using ‘realistic’ CGI in place of traditional hand-drawn animation. This is not the first time Disney has done this and it appears this will certainly not be the last. Trousdale and Wise’s Beauty and the Beast represents part of the Disney Renaissance – in such company as The Little Mermaid (Ron Clements, John Musker, 1989), Aladdin (Clements, Musker, 1992), and the height of this era, The Lion King (Roger Allers, Rob Minkoff, 1994). These films represent the height of Disney’s animation standard and saved the company when it was failing in the 1980s. The Disney Renaissance Beauty and the Beast was released 26 years ago, yet it has survived for this long in the hearts and minds of audiences, and will continue to do so because it is timeless. So clearly, these films need to be remade!

In an interview with Pearl & Dean Premieres, director Bill Condon described the 1991 film as perfect and flat-out admitted that the reason for remaking it was the appeal of the live action aesthetic. Condon has answered this question already but it bears repeating: Why would you want to remake something if you think it is perfect? If something is perfect, there’s no way to improve it, ergo no reason to remake it, ergo the remake shouldn’t exist. This wouldn’t be so bad if it was a direct adaptation of Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont’s classic story, but that’s not what the Disney powers that be wanted. While nostalgia goggles may have most audiences excited for this film, it is with a mindset of questioning its purpose that one goes into the cinema skeptical.

The film opens with narration; the same narration, virtually, that opens the previous film, only with a different actor reading it. The opening narration isn’t even all that necessary because the prologue makes the effort to show the events of the Beast’s origin through actions rather than a montage of stills. And this sets the tone of the way much of the film has been scripted. It’s not uncommon or even out of place for an adaptation to quote the text it is based on. However, one can make the argument that too much of this film’s dialogue is ripped straight from the original movie, even to the point of mimicking the exchanges of entire scenes, albeit with slight alterations. It’s a real shame because in those parts where dialogue and story show originality, Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos’ writing shows a lot of promise.

In the interview with Pearl & Dean, Condon also said the goal of the project was to distinguish the protagonist Belle as a 21^st Century heroine. The cartoon came out only less than a decade prior to the turn of the millennium, but very well. How then is Belle represented? Played by Emma Watson, the film expands on Belle’s character by showing her to be an inventor like her father, not only keeping up with his thinking but also helping with his projects (none that would blow up, thankfully) and making a few things of her own. It makes sense, the passage of craft and trade down families and all, especially given the time of the setting – although, beyond the first third her ability to invent isn’t shown much. A nice touch is how Belle’s interactions with Gaston (Luke Evans) are presented. Whereas Belle in the cartoon had no interest in Gaston but was polite enough to evasively humour him, live action Belle, while not rude, has no care to be around him or spare his feelings. The film makes it clear that Belle is no fool; she perceives Gaston’s intentions towards her. It also might have something to do with how Gaston is presented, which we will get to.

The film also tries to pronounce the townspeople’s distain for Belle and her being literate, although its not exactly clear why no one likes her reading or teaching a little girl to read, which she kindly does. Belle is introduced in a cover version of “Belle”, the opening musical number from the first film. In this sequence, she essentially steals bread from the baker and almost tramples on other people’s laundry as they’re washing. Not exactly a good influence.

But at least this means she has flaws. If characters were perfect, they would have nothing to learn, and the protagonist needs to learn something by the end. So, what does Belle learn? Well, nothing to do with stealing bread, sadly. Yes, she learns to love a person whose looks are not conventionally beautiful, but she’s just as much a victim of Stockholm syndrome as her cartoon counterpart. Besides, not loving the Beast is more about how the Beast kidnaps her father and takes her prisoner. It’s never explicit that Belle’s initial dislike for the Beast had anything to do with his appearance. If anything, in both versions she takes the existence of a ten-foot hairy demon rather well. Most people would be freaked out beyond a simple gasp.

One of the biggest letdowns in the film is Gaston’s characterisation. In the cartoon, Gaston doesn’t start off as a villain per-se, but was the kind of man who was always used to getting his way, and over the events of the film he develops into a monster. This was done intentionally to contrast to the Beast’s development from a selfish creature to a kindly man. However, the remake version presents Gaston as a much more tactless character, his violent aspects blown out of proportion to the point of attempted murder on Maurice (Kevin Kline)! It comes as an abrupt shock. Apparently having come back from war, which he found great pleasure in (seeing as thoughts of gore calm him), would seem to represent the military and its veterans as inhuman and bloodthirsty, or in LeFou’s case enabling that behaviour. Take as much offense to that as you will. By demonising this character to such an extreme, Gaston is no longer a character. He becomes a cartoonish caricature, and the comparison between him and the Beast is lost. He becomes dehumanised so the audience can’t empathise with him and therefor can’t learn from his actions. It is fitting to show him to be somewhat harassing so Belle can avoid him – it subtly teaches the audience that harassment is wrong – but turning him into a murderous psychopath so early on in the film with so little development comes right out of nowhere, is an insult to the character and a robbery of one of the original film’s most important themes.

It’s a tale as old as time (or rather the 18^th Century), one we all know so well from that iconic animated feature. When going in with the mindset that the only thing different will be the visuals, one worries that the remake will only be a shot-by-shot reconstruction. The dialogue, when there is too much taken from the 1991 script, furthers this worry. But while the plot is basically the same, the story does have some canny alterations. Some work, and others either compound the flaws of the first one or replace them.

For example, in the animated movie, the Beast is turning twenty-one soon, and he has been a beast for ten years, implying that when the Enchantress cursed him he was a child answering the door to his own castle! This version’s prologue, however, shows him as an adult man and the Enchantress (Hattie Morahan) breaking into his home. That seems a responsible enough start. But then there was the implication of how the kingdom has been living without a government since the Beast concealed himself from his subjects. The remake attempts to fix this by explaining that the curse erased everyone’s memory of those who had been cursed. The outcome is still the same. It turns out the Prince had been overtaxing his subjects for his own selfish desires, but even if the people didn’t have to pay taxes they would still be without a form of government or law and order or anyone to maintain their infrastructure and economy. For all Belle calls it a “poor provincial town”, it looks like a rather wealthy neighborhood. The place should look like Les Misérables. Here’s a thought: why not have a steward take care of the kingdom while the Prince-Beast conceals himself? Either that or make the town look like a dung heap.

There is a decent attempt to improve the romantic aspect of the story, through showing Belle and the Beast to have some common interests and most importantly having chemistry. Again, this comes from the original portions of the script and the scenes where they share and experience their environment are very human. And at least in this version the Beast doesn’t try to hit Belle when she sneaks into the West Wing. Unfortunately, for all they fall in love with each other, Belle still doesn’t know the Beast’s name! That was one of the most hilariously prominent flaws of the romance in the first film!

Speaking of Belle sneaking into the West Wing, there is a question of how “imprisoned” she really is. In the cartoon, the Beast takes Belle out of the dungeon and allows her to move freely through the castle. In this version, it is Lumière who leads her to a more comfortable room, and when the Beast finds out his will has been circumvented he just allows this to happen. In either case, Belle can leave anytime she wants. The only difference is that cartoon Belle initially stays due to a sense of honour while live action Belle is more proactively determined to escape. If Belle can run out the door at any time, what then is the point of calling Belle a prisoner? In this version, why doesn’t the Beast free Belle once he realises Maurice wasn’t a thief, instead waiting ‘til after they have their romantic dance? Maurice trespassing on Beast’s castle was the whole reason for Belle being a “prisoner” in the first place! Oh yes, that’s right, he needs to keep her close by so she will fall in love with him. That’s not creepy or anything…

To be honest, Maurice should have known better. Of course, he goes into the castle looking for shelter, but after making very little effort to see if there are any signs of life at all, he sees a banquet of food on the dining table and assumes that it’s for him. And when he’s scared out of the house by the menacing unseen presence there, he stops running and takes the time to steal a rose. Yeah, this Maurice may be sweet but he’s also kind of an idiot.

Of course, in a film set in France (or possibly one of its neighbors), everyone has a British accent, or American in Josh Gad’s case, except for that one guy. Lumière’s French accent is somehow even more stereotypical than in the cartoon, as is that of his lover Featherduster (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) to the point where their inflections can be a little unfitting. It’s almost like stereotypical French accents in movies attempt to make up for how British everyone else sounds. This may raise the question: if you want to hammer home that this guy is French, why not cast a French actor? Ewan McGregor's portrayal of the eccentric candlestick is okay and he is given some funny lines to work with.

It is revealed that the Beast’s greed for which he is cursed was the result of his father’s cold and unsympathetic parenting after his mother died. While it’s true that one’s environment influences one’s character, the explanation given seems to serve only to hand-wave a justification for Beast’s nature. You might as well say it was space aliens. Could the Prince not just be spoiled? He had to be corrupted by his father? The king only appears for a second, as does any mention of him. This route and the time taken through it seem far too convenient and easy.

One of the negative aspects of the cartoon’s story is that Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts and the rest of the castle’s staff are cursed for the Beast’s vain and superficial heart. This film attempts to justify their transformation into household objects by explaining, very briefly, that they did nothing to stop the Prince developing into a spoiled person. It’s actually a great way for the remake to raise the stakes – it’s not just their physiology that’s in peril, but their very sentience and lives. It seems the lesson is one against apathy, which is important to teach. It is, however, betrayed by LeFou’s subplot. While portrayed in a well-meaning light, LeFou (Josh Gad), Gaston’s lackey, goes through the movie doing the wrong things, knowing they are wrong, but he gets a happy ending, romantic love interest and all, because he abandons the villain at the last second. He’s basically Bartok from Anastasia (Don Bluth, Gary Goldman, 1997).

On a side note, it is heavily implied that LeFou is gay. Yes, there is an objectively gay Disney character now. And it’s not Elsa from Frozen. Funny how things turn out.

Belle doesn’t have much a different impact on the climax of the film than she did in the cartoon. She doesn’t get involved in the fight between Beast and Gaston; she is mostly there to give the Beast, and the audience, hope, which makes the scene all the more tragic as the battle ends. To be honest it’s more appealing that the proactive Belle struggles knowing what to do in this situation than it would be if she got involved in the fight. In the crossover video game Kingdom Hearts II, there is a scene where Belle is being held hostage by the villain Xaldin, so she elbows him in his stomach and escapes. It was good that she wasn’t being represented as damsel in distress, but at the same time it was an out-of-character thing for her to do. Still, she’s a smart girl; she could be tactical in order to help Beast out.

Now, as perhaps excessively the film imitates its predecessor’s script, adaptations are allowed to pull at their audience’s nostalgic heartstrings. And, yes. Call it manipulative, but there are parts where it pulls at your heartstrings. As an adaptation of a musical, the film is more than justified in reiterating the source material’s music. Here we have cover versions of the beloved songs “Belle”, “Gaston”, “Be Our Guest”, “The Mob Song” and the eponymous “Beauty and the Beast”, of which the film offers three different renditions. Not only that, but the film includes additional songs from the Broadway musical, which, to one who has only ever seen the cartoon, is a welcome change of pace. And they all sound fantastic. The Broadway songs help to inform a new kind of tone to the film adaptation, especially to the characters that sing them.

While the songs themselves are quite brilliant, if basically the same as the cartoon version – again, perfection cannot be improved upon – it’s the visuals to these songs that can feel a little awkward, at least for the better parts of the first and second thirds. In “Belle”, the performances from the ensemble are exaggerated, almost as if they were meant for the theatre rather than a film. During “Gaston”, the editing can be choppy and the 180° rule is rather ignored. “Be Our Guest” is plain confusing. For no reason at all, the animated characters draw references to completely unrelated movies like Singin’ in the Rain (Gene Kelly, Stanley Donen, 1952). Apparently “Be Our Guest” has been confused with “Friend Like Me”.

Towards the climax and the final act is when the film’s impact takes full effect. Tears will come to your eyes when all seems lost and one by one our characters’ fears seem heartbreakingly realised. Ewen McGregor and Ian McKellan's performances feel especially heartfelt here. The music is a major contributing factor to the mood in the final act. The Beast has his own musical number, “Evermore” from the Broadway show, as he looks on at Belle, who finally leaves the castle to rescue her father. Dan Stevens’ voice is already a great fit for the character, quite similar to that of Robby Benson, and when he delivers this song, it is beautifully, melancholically powerful. During the number “Beauty and the Beast”, as sung by Mrs. Potts (Emma Thompson), the music and visuals are entrancing as Belle and the Beast share a romantic dance, dressed in her glowing yellow dress and his cobalt suit. It is a beautifully designed, shot, choreographed, paced and edited scene. As the beautiful background unravels like clusters of stars as the Beast picks Belle up by her waist and spins her ‘round, one’s eyes are practically fixed on the couple as the two look into each other’s eyes. The chemistry of this entire scene is stunning.

We also get two other versions of “Beauty and the Beast”, one terrifically done by Madame Garderobe (Audra McDonald) and duet by Ariana Grande and John Legend during the ending credits. At first one might get hung up on how Grande and Legend’s version is nigh identical in its delivery to that of Céline Dion and Peabo Bryson’s version, but come to think of it that is an extremely impressive feat.

There is an elephant in the room that must be addressed when reviewing the musical aspect of the film. There have been accusations that Auto-Tune was used on Emma Watson’s voice. For example, when a clip was shown to Catherine Bott, a professional soprano, she believed this was so, saying that her ‘real voice’ showed fragility, which she believed would have been beneficial to the film. At first one might be inclined to give Watson the benefit of the doubt, but after listening to Dan Steven's cover of "Evermore" from the original soundtrack, one can hear use of Auto-Tune, meaning that more than one performance has been doctored in some way. As said before, Watson and Stevens' singing aren't all that bad, but when you manipulate their voices like this, audiences can sense the manipulation and it distracts from the experience. Audiences are going to get upset at something like this is because they either feel like the experience isn't genuine or that it is sensible to cast capable singers in a musical where the vocals are meant to be of a high quality. Another option, if you really want these actors in these roles but feel their singing is in some way inadequate, is to hire more capable singers with similar voices to dub over them, as has been done with movie musicals in the past. That way you have a better chance of maintaining the illusion and you give work to a few more talented people.

Some of the complaints in this review apply to previous live action Disney remakes. It’s seems apparent this is a studio-mandated remake, and it seems there are as many as nineteen more to be released in the coming years, reiterating classics from across Disney’s history. They are going to have the same problems as Beauty and the Beast and its 21^st Century predecessors. One must ask…will they last? Maleficent has been shunned, Pete’s Dragon was forgettable… That’s not to say Disney cartoons are flawless. Far from it. The Beauty and the Beast cartoon looked good and sounded good and was performed well, but it has its underlying problems. The difference is that the remake creates more of them. Even if there is a demand for these remakes, this demand is misguided. By remaking film after film to have just as many problems or more than their source material, simply for the sake of updating them, these imitations will inevitably become passé.

It’s obvious this remake comes from a well-meaning place. Love and passion have gone into the making of this film. No doubt about that. The mise-en-scène and visual design is wonderful, Belle seems a more determined and proactive protagonist, and the acting is superb across the board. The music is very well done, though most of it owes its appeal to the cartoon’s nostalgic value. And that’s all it needs to make it enjoyable in general, but the film’s surface appeal can trick its audience into thinking it has less than its share of problems. The script struggles between originality and quoting Linda Woolverton’s efforts from the cartoon version. Sometimes the pacing can feel all over the place. It tries to teach good lessons and fix the detrimental implications of the cartoon, and in some cases it succeeds, but in others it goes to unnecessary extremes, creates new detrimental implications, undermines the morals of its own subplots, attempts to fix things that weren’t necessarily broken with glancing explanations, and even creates plot holes, of all things! After experiencing the film’s spectacle, one wants to like this movie. One is even glad it exists, as it was able to bring both laughter to lungs and tears to eyes. It is an effort worthy of congratulation. At the same time, however, one can’t ignore how the film, for all its heart and grandeur, has these mistakes in the attempt at being updated.

Kong: Skull Island

Jordan Vogt-Roberts’ Kong: Skull Island gives us the latest incarnation of the giant ape King Kong, who debuted eponymously in Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack’s classic 1933 film, which has been remade several times, including Peter Jackson's version in 2005. Produced by three of the same people who produced Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla (2014), it’s not hard to predict what the filmmakers have planned for this film’s legacy.

Taking place in the 1970s, rather than the 1930s or present day, as U.S. troops are withdrawn from Vietnam, government official Bill Randa (John Goodman) and his geologist friend (and hollow-earther) Houston Brooks (Corey Hawkins) get the go-ahead to lead an expedition to the mysterious Skull Island. With a military escort lead by the bitter Lieutenant Colonel Preston Packard (Samuel L. Jackson), having hired former air force captain James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston) as a tracker, and photojournalist Mason Weaver (Brie Larson), the team fly through a perpetual lightning storm surrounding the island (at which point they should all be fried inside their metal helicopters) to the island and find themselves stranded with not only a gigantic ape but also a slew of other deadly creatures.

While Hiddleston sounds the same as most of his other films, his physical performance and appearance takes his formal accent and makes him look like a learned pessimistic survivor. Jackson portrays a dark, intense personality, in which he utilises a motionless stare which one can infer great vengeful brooding. Larson plays the “anti-war” photographer with a confident demeanor and is our female lead that Kong supposedly has an infatuation for. However, this film significantly downplays the (interspecies) romantic subplot of the original story, which is one of the most iconic things about King Kong. Come to think of it, removing Kong’s attraction to the female lead brings into question why she has the ability to calm Kong down.

Later in the film enters Hank Marlow (John C. Reilly), a lietanant who has been stranded on the island since World War II. Reilly’s acting style basically makes him a good fit for this role, a respectable “funny one” character, with whom the script can be lightly but surely funny. The writers’ and editor’s attempts at humour doesn’t work particularly well in its general execution or with the tone of the film. For some reason Samuel L. Jackson quotes his catchphrase from Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993): “Hold on to your butts.” The humour that does work with characters other than Hank comes from the semi-naturalistic performances as they relate to portrayals of the characters.

There seems to be a deliberate subtext to this film. At least three times in the scene where the humans reach the island there is a close-up of a Richard Nixon bobblehead in the foreground. The humans drop bombs, or ‘seismic charges’, and Kong responds in the best way he knows. Basically the film is comparing the discovery of Skull Island to the Americans coming over to Vietnam in the 1960s – even though Nixon sought to withdraw U.S. troops from Vietnam during his time in office, he did approve Operation Menu, a covert bombing campaign on North Vietnam that had been set up by former President Lyndon B. Johnson.

On the subject of writing, there is something bothersome that quite a few films in the last few years, at least those involving monsters, suffer from. After a vicious retaliation from Kong, the team’s first encounter with the beast, James, Mason and most of the others have their wits about them and are preparing their next move, but one of the soldiers is frantic:

“Are we not gonna talk about what just happened?”

You know, just because you point out that movie characters are unrealistically desensitised to first contact with monsters doesn’t excuse the fact that your script suffers from that same flaw. Imagine you came across an upright-walking gorilla the size of a mountain that, but a few minutes prior, killed your military escort. You would not be okay! You would be terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought! At least take a moment to catch your breath and try to process the existence of a GIANT FREAKING APE! Writers should also stop having characters refer to the monster as “that thing” after their first encounter – it has become clichéd.

On the island there are several giant monsters, which are wonderfully designed and some horrifyingly voracious. But none compare to the big bruiser himself: Kong. This version of Kong is absolutely massive. Having brown fur, using trees as weapons, and even a fight with a certain giant animal, the film definitely draws influence from the Toho version of King Kong that appeared in Ishirō Honda’s King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962). Kong’s action scenes are explosively violent and even intense at times. These fights have points in them that leave lasting consequences for not only the human characters but also Kong himself. In terms of choreography one would think that these battles would be a little clumsy, but in fact they’re some of the best thought-out scenes of the entire picture, getting downright creative with how the titanic fights play out.

Unfortunately despite this amazing action, one has to look at the character too. The big problem is that Kong isn’t especially well characterised in this film. Of course, the audience is expecting a giant ape to smash things, but again, the film downplays Kong’s romantic interest in the female lead to the point of nonexistence. So, what else is there? Sure, we’re given info on Kong’s backstory, but there’s not much to imply Kong’s thinking towards, say, the other members of his species being dead, of being alone in the world. At least in previous versions there was a focus on Kong’s emotions other than survival. Is Kong protecting the animals and natives of the island on purpose, and if so why?

The human-monster fight scenes are quite lavishly violent too and use tension well. That’s not so say there aren’t some stupid moments. Take for example the time several canisters of toxic gas explode, prompting only one character to put on a gas mask and fight his way through the green fog, only to take it off before he’s even gotten clear of the gas. The inhuman antagonists of the film are the two-legged serpentine Skullcrawlers, eating their prey whole. And consider, these monsters have teeth – several jagged rows in fact – yet they swallow their prey whole and regurgitate the remains, which means they digest their victims alive. These creatures are nefarious because they want to be! It’s chilling. Despite being massive beasts, Kong and the Skullcrawlers are shown to be quite intelligent, in their own non-verbal, aggressive ways.

Legendary Pictures has announced plans for a Godzilla vs. Kong to be released in 2020 – apparently it is unrelated to Toho’s King Kong vs. Godzilla, even though it is so obviously a remake of that film. That’s the reason why Kong: Skull Island makes as many nods to that film as it does. Aside from the poor attempts at humour, the writing isn’t all that bad, however it underutilises some of its characters to the point where they almost don’t need to be there, like San Lin (Jing Tian) and her barebones romantic subplot with Houston. The actors’ deliveries help the script sound better, and there are quite a few human moments. The environments are spectacular, and the film doesn’t feel the need to oversaturate the colours to make the place look nice despite the horrific creatures there. This film also gets probably one of the most important aspects of the film right; whereas Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla suffered from a tragic lack of Godzilla, Kong’s presence in this film is gloriously satisfying! Imperfectly written, but well acted, visually stunning, and a rush of jaw-dropping carnage! See this and you’ll be utterly excited for the King Kong vs. Godzilla remake.