"Frozen," Story Structure, and the Art of Letting Go

We've gotten lucky here in Boston this year. You may remember the Winter-to-End-All-Winters last year, where snowfall broke every record on the books. We all dreaded it happening again. A chill ran down the spines of everyone in the Northeast U.S. as the leaves began to change in September, because we all knew what followed. It seems that the Snow Gods had been appeased, though, because it's now April and we've gotten by pretty unscathed.

Well, I mean, it's snowing as I write this, a few days into April, so that's weird. But it's too little, too late to make up ground at this point. Better luck next year.

Outside of my actual window right now

Something about a nonwhite Christmas, a Christmas of Color, if you will, just didn't seem right this year. I found myself getting nostalgic for the 47 feet of crystallized water we had to navigate last winter. I decided that I had to turn to the only people who would understand my plight. A people who knew the harshness of being buried by an unrelenting freeze, being shut in from their loved ones, and resorting to talking to annoying snowmen to keep their sanity; The people of Arendelle.

Ah, Frozen. The 2013 phenomenon that took every little girl's imagination by storm. I mean, a Disney movie with TWO princesses? How could they resist the allure? Frozen was lauded as Disney's return to form. A revival of the brand. A stepping out from little brother Pixar's shadow. A film that the world's children loved and the world's adults kind of tolerated because they had to. No more would Disney have to sheepishly admit that they had anything to do with Home on the Range, because they had Frozen, dammit. And everyone loved it, and it was the best movie ever, and Disney got all of the money.

Except it's not. Frozen is just not an exceptional movie. It's fine. It's pretty good. But it's full of glaring problems and outright oversights. The writing has no depth at all. Case in point: This movie likes to believe it is deep and metaphorical, but it contains exactly zero metaphors. The theme of love being represented by an open door comes up a lot. What could it refer to? Perhaps exactly that? Perhaps exactly the closed door that Elsa used to separate herself from her sister for years? That's not a metaphor. The closed door can't represent the closed door!

I have a theory that the script was written and submitted, and Disney's board of Money-Makers injected a bunch of ideas into the script that didn't quite mesh, but made it appeal to more kids. I want to be clear that this isn't meant as some kind of "takedown" of Frozen. It's my attempt to see where the story doesn't add up. I think the big problems with the script fall into one of two categories: Plot oversights and inconsistencies, and plot threads that lead to a climax that never occurs. Let's start with the oversights and inconsistencies.

When Anna gets blasted by Elsa's ice for the first time, how does the king know where to go? He just says "I know where to go," and then they ride out into the woods to meet the dumb trolls. How does he know this? Is this a family illness? Has every generation had to go to these trolls to get help at some point? If so, why are Elsa's parents so inept at this? Is there an uncle who could help her develop these powers? Some kind of Ice Gandalf? If this isn't an ongoing problem, how does he know where to bring her at all? Is this an innate skill all royals inherit, like cryomancy? Some kind of Stone Troll radar? It seems very specific. 

Also, why do we need the trolls at all in this movie? From a plot perspective, why are they here? They don't add anything but a forgettable song.

"Because, David," I hear you saying, "They're Kristoff's adopted family!"

Ok, but if we never saw little baby Kristoff, we'd never have to explain that he's an orphan or needs to be adopted. If Kristoff had just wandered into Oaken's shop as Anna was buying supplies, that would be a great introduction. We learn everything we need to know about Kristoff in that scene. He's an ice salesman who is a big, dopey, lovable oaf and he probably fucks his reindeer. There's no reason for him to witness the first scene with the trolls. It doesn't come up again. He doesn't mention it casually to Anna later. We don't even have to see him in Arendelle on Coronation Day because he gets one throwaway line. Kristoff's intro is fine at Oaken's. And why would these trolls bother to adopt this kid at all, if his future job is going to be harvesting ice, anyway? That's the path he was already on. Being adopted by these tumorous annoyances did nothing to improve Kristoff's station in life. Wait, did they even know he was an orphan? Did they steal Kristoff from his family? Hmm...

"Ok, fine," you say. "But without the trolls, Anna would have remembered that Elsa has powers! What about that?"

Well, if you remember, Elsa accidentally beans Anna in the head with the ice. If it's SO IMPORTANT to the plot that she not remember Elsa's magic, have her slip into unconsciousness for a while and have her wake up with no knowledge of it. Bam. Ice powers forgotten, Elsa still becomes a recluse. But even if Anna DID remember, wouldn't Elsa's constant need to push her away be even more dramatic? Wouldn't that make the reunion at the end that much more meaningful? But I digress.

I think baby Kristoff and Sven were inserted into that first scene solely so Disney could cash in on Baby Sven stuffed animals.

Hell, Sven may have been added to the movie only so Anna would have an excuse to have a carrot on-hand to give Olaf a nose when they met. And so that way your kids will want Baby Sven AND Adult Sven stuffed animals! But that may be a little conspiratorial.

There's also Marshmallow, the abominable snow-monster that Elsa creates to get Anna and Kristoff out of her ice castle. Why does she create him? Because she doesn't want to hurt Anna again and needs some muscle to bring her outside. So there's no reason Marshmallow would want to try to kill Anna and Kristoff shortly afterward, going against Elsa's wishes when she created him. It's like they just needed an action scene there.

I can already sense some of you muttering "It's for kids! Who cares?!" Well, please go tell Don Bluth or Roald Dahl or Maurice Sendak that stories for kids don't matter and I will be waiting here with a pack of frozen peas to numb the slaps you get across your face.

Up until now these have been minor complaints. Nitpicks. They make sure that the movie won't ever be as good as Aladdin or The Lion King, or Zootopia, but they don't ruin the movie for me. Suspension of disbelief and all that. But, no. My biggest complaint is that the plot seems to lead in a direction that it either abandons, or was changed at some point in production. This results in plot threads and implications that lead to the wrong climax. Let's go back to that part where Elsa and Anna's parents meet those trolls.

Anna is unconscious. Elsa feels terrible because she hurt her sister. The leader of the trolls sees the injured little Anna and asks if Elsa was "born or cursed" with her powers.

That's a small sentence, but it does a lot of world building. It says that there exist people in Arendelle and beyond that this troll has at least heard of who have had this power before. What's more, they can either be born with it in a completely random manner (as I'm assuming nobody else in their family can shoot icicles around), or be cursed with the ability by someone else. It implies that there are others out there, and by planting it so early in the movie, it suggests something large that'll come into play later. It plants a little nugget of expectation in your head.

Things progress as normal. Nobody wants to Build a Snowman, and before we know it, it's Coronation Day. Anna is excited to see people For the First Time in Forever, and the dreamy Prince Hans shows up and sweeps Anna off her feet. We learn later that Hans plans to have Elsa and Anna killed so he can inherit Arendelle and their booming ice harvesting market, or whatever. Everything is going well for him. Anna is into him, and she's playing directly into his gloved hand.

What a catch!

When he catches Anna at the Coronation Day dance, this is how it happens. Check that out. Look at what's on display here: A gloved hand. That's weird. Why would they show that? Who else would have caught Anna? The Duke of Weselton? It's no surprise when he's revealed.

But who else wears gloves?

Oh, that's right. Everyone but Anna. You got me.

Anyway, from here, Elsa freaks out and loses control of her ice powers, and after the crowd jumps back, we get this single-character reaction shot.

Is he scared? Surprised? Intrigued?

Anna and Hans follow her to the fjord where Hans notices that it's freezing. When the duo double back to Arendelle, snow begins to fall on the kingdom, and it does for the remainder of the movie. Anna assures Hans that she had no idea about Elsa's powers. Once in the courtyard, The Duke accosts Anna as Hans watches, demanding to know "Are you a monster too?"

"Is there sorcery in you, too?!"

And so we get Elsa's power ballad as she Dr. Manhattans an ice palace up in the mountains (Also, how can she create ice through her shoes when gloves were enough to inhibit it? Are her feet more powerful than her hands?) as Anna realizes that Elsa "wore gloves all the time" and that must be how she kept her secret hidden.

My favorite scene from Frozen

After a bit, Anna and Kristoff arrive to tell Elsa that "Arendell's in deep, deep, deep, deep snow," much to Elsa's shock. It's as if she's surprised the kingdom is, well, frozen. She managed to control her powers just fine in isolation up here in the mountains, after all. Have you seen the castle she built? That's some structural integrity. No foundation problems of self-doubt there, no sirree. That's weird. Huh.

From here, Elsa accidentally freezes Anna's heart and Anna runs back to her prince to get her cure. Hans dismisses the help, tells Anna it's all been a ruse, and a very interesting scene occurs.

Hans goes to the window and stares out at the frozen wasteland. In the reflection, his face is superimposed over the snow, suggesting some kind of connection.

He turns back to Anna, monologuing, of course, and removes his glove.

Remember earlier when I asked who else wears gloves, and you said "everyone"? Well, you're right. But only two people are shown having their gloves removed, let alone in a dramatic, story-heavy scene.

Hans slowly walks toward Anna and snuffs out a goddamn candle with his bare hands before dumping water on the fire.

And... nothing happens. Hans was going to marry Anna and have them both killed. End of reveal. It's a GOOD reveal, don't get me wrong, but I believe that everything about Hans sets him up to have the same set of powers as Elsa. The line from the troll leader, the fact that he directs Anna's attention to the freezing fjord that they just happen to be be standing on the bank of, the fact that he's in frame when Weselton interrogates Anna, to the fact that Arendell was completely covered in snow despite Elsa's ignorance, to this whole scene. Every little thing adds up. And the movie just, well, lets it go by without giving it a second thought.

When I saw Frozen for the first time and watched this scene, I thought it was brilliant. Hans has ice powers too?! What a reveal! Everything started to make sense! The uneven approach to Elsa's powers could be glossed over because SHE wasn't the one doing it most of the time! Hans manipulating the people from inside the kingdom to fear and hate the queen was a great power play! But no. Instead, we have a half-assed "well, I guess I know how to control them now" at the end for no real reason. Hans is punched in the mouth, and the nobles applaud, despite the fact that the last time anyone interacted with him, they were all under the assumption that he was behaving under the noblest of intentions.

The sisterly bond and the twist on the act of love are both wonderful ideas and something that really needed to be in a movie, but I just can't get over this buildup to nothing. I can't not see it as either an enormous oversight, or a purposeful rewrite that Disney forgot to erase all traces of. 

Overall, Frozen ends up being just an ok movie. Nothing special, despite the marketing blitz. The songs are pretty solid, for the most part. The way the dialogue is spoken sometimes, you can tell it was clearly written with the intent of being adapted to the stage the whole time, and that's fine. Vertical integration, and all that. And hey, Olaf turned out to be not nearly as annoying as I feared. On the other side of things, I can't help but to feel there was some meddling by the higher-ups going on. Kristoff's adoption still makes no sense and is shoehorned in. The trolls are a cutesy marketing idea that probably came from the fallout of 2010's Despicable Me and their ever-present Minion characters. However, I will argue til the day I die that "conceal, don't feel" is the most on-the-nose, transparent, trite, stupidest piece of dialogue I've ever heard, and this movie is sure to repeat it in part about eight times. If you tried to pass that off in any script workshop, you'd be laughed out of the room.

But Zootopia is great. You should definitely see that.

A Year of Film part 5- Waking Sleeping Beauty

Date viewed: 1/29/11

Imagine you're out in the ocean with nothing around for miles. While out there, sharks swirling beneath you, you come across a life boat. In that life boat are several pages, and those ages tell a great story, but it seems that the wind has picked up the first half and scattered them across the sea, and the writer died of starvation before finishing the book.
These pages are pretty good, but you no context for the story or the characters.

This is "Waking Sleeping Beauty." The documentary tells the story of the Disney animation renaissance between 1989 and 1994 (or, "The Little Mermaid" through the "Lion King" for those of you who know the canon).

It tells about the people in power at that time, Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg, and their struggle to bring the Disney animation studio back from the edge of bankruptcy.

The movie does a fair job at this, giving us a brief history of Disney up to that point, but it's ultimately not enough. We never get the real scope of the situation. We have hearsay about the old films and how great they were and that the Disney standard is in the toilet. We have Roy Disney running around managing a company, Eisner beginning his "milk the brand for all it's worth" phase, and Katzenberg being wrong on every call he makes (cut "Part of Your World" from "The Little Mermaid"? "Pocahontas" will be bigger than "The Lion King"? Really?).

To really care about this movie we'd need a full history of Disney and the Nine Old Men who helped found the studio. We need to care about what is going on.

Personally, I think "Waking Sleeping Beauty" would have been more successful as a documentary about the history of animated film with the late 80s/early 90s as the fulcrum of the story. There is too much history before the movie begins and after the movie ends for us to care about the five-year vacuum that the movie showcases. We need to know what happened after the renaissance and what happened to our "characters."

Speaking of which, great documentaries have great characters. Christopher Guest knows this and has made a film career based on exploiting it. Even "King of Kong," which I talked about a few weeks ago, does a fantastic job setting up its characters. We know their history, we know why they do what they do, and we know what they're fighting for.

In "Waking Sleeping Beauty" we get none of this context. We are plopped down into the plot and told to care. In order to get more of the story, Lindsay Ellis's Nostalgia Chick video is almost required viewing.

"Waking Sleeping Beauty" does a decent job of telling us why this period is important in Disney animation history, but it lacks a care factor. There is nobody to cheer for because the documentary never takes the time to really introduce us to any of the people involved. The really interesting stuff happened as a result of the events in this film, so I feel like they should have at least been touched upon. Overall, "Waking Sleeping Beauty" will please those who have a deep knowledge of Disney's history, but leave those who don't wanting more.

How I Know "Red Riding Hood" Will Suck Based on the Poster Alone

I don't know if you've seen this little beauty in the cineplex around town. I have, and it enrages me every time I walk by it. Why? What causes this near-embolism every time I glance up at this corporate misstep? Well, I'm glad you asked. Let's break it down.



Our first red flag (heh) is the scrawl at the top: "From the Director of Twilight." Fucking fantastic. Somewhere along the line, legions of teenage girls convinced this woman and the movie studio behind her that she had any talent at all. Well, Miss Hardwicke, you moat creature, they're mistaken. "Twilight" did well because the main character, a vacant slate who is pined after by two young men who would never find interest in someone so boring, comes with the inhuman ability to have the reader's/viewer's wants and needs projected onto her. She is wish-fulfillment. Ask any 38-year-old single mom. Saying your movie is made by the director of Twilight is akin to telling someone your car is built by an American car company. It's technically a car, but that doesn't make it interesting or competently made in the least.

Number two: Believe the legend. One of the earliest versions is the Little Red Riding Hood story was in a book called "Tales of Mother Goose." Call me crazy, but I think appearing in Mother Goose makes you a fairy tale, which is decidedly different from a legend. King Arthur is a fucking legend. Sleepy Hollow is a legend. It's right there in the title! The Brothers Grimm, whom you might remember from FAIRY TALES such as "The Little Mermaid" and "Rumpelstiltskin" said that a legend was a "historically grounded" folktale. When scientists discover the fossil of a wolf wearing pajamas we'll talk. In the meantime, stop calling this a legend. That's like me calling my blog a "peer-reviewed scholarly document."

This brings us to the image itself. we have dreary woods and a bright red cloak. Not only does this bring flashes of stilted, wooden, dreary "Twilight" dialogue, but also the imagery of another fantastic Hollywood triumph, "the Village," by M. Night Shyamalan. Is that fair? The "Riding Hood" story has been around forever, with its roots in "The Bible and other fantastic stories,"* so Shyamalan could have taken cues from that and transplanted them into his story. That way it's just two different auteurs drawing from the same inspiration, right? Well, I don't want to give either of these terrible directors the benefit of the doubt, so Shyamalan is stealing and Treebeard up there is just unoriginal.

Now we have the logo, presented in the same stunning way as the title to "300." Blood spatters; is there anything they can't artificially hype up?

That was a quick point, wasn't it?

And at last, we have "Who's afraid?" That's not a bad tagline. It teases the audience with the appearance of the Big Bad Wolf (who is probably a glistening werewolf in this adaptation) and the adventure that will ensue. "Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf," indeed. Tra la la la la.

Wait. That's not from the Riding Hood story. That's from the Three Little Pigs. No, not the character of the Wolf, but that line. That lyric that is supposed to be the clincher for the whole film is stolen from a song featured in a 1933 Disney cartoon! They can't even keep their source material straight.



I don't know about you all, but I'll be in line to see this movie come March so I can make wolf shadow puppets on the screen. I like to bring a little realism to the movies.

* Not true. I just wanted to take an easy swipe at the Bible.

Demi Lovato is in rehab

I really should have posted this a week ago, but I had no idea who she was then. Well, this should be all the proof you need to know that my last article was 100% accurate.

I love the Disney Channel.

Believe it or not, there was once a time in American pop culture when Disney was the gold standard for a brand. They put out high quality programming, movies, products, and even had a theme park that didn't require you to sell your children to sweat shops to visit. But, as we all know, when you're at the top there's only one place to go, and it ain't a plateau.
In the Disney Channel's infancy it was actually a pay channel like HBO or Showtime. Unfortunately this required them to use effort or people would stop paying for them. It ran shows like "Under the Umbrella Tree" and "Dumbo's Circus" and Mickey Mouse even taught you how to do aerobics.

(Mousercise pics from http://www.platypuscomix.net/history/exercise.html)

Yeah. You're seeing that correctly. That's someone dressed as Donald Duck standing in close proximity to a woman (who is not a young Rue McClanahan) who is wearing leg warmers. And I'm assuming he knows he's in front of a camera. Can you imagine the preparation he must have to put himself through every morning to go to work? Not stretching, but convincing himself that life is still worth living? Plus, I can't imagine Donald wouldn't have a visible erection wearing no pants and being around that many women in tights. Why is he dressed like a sailor even when he's doing warm-ups?

(Not the same person)

At any rate, at some point Disney decided that this was not a quick enough way to bring down western civilization and they became a basic cable channel, bringing you such quality programming as "Hannah Montana" "That's So Raven!" and "The Jonas Brothers Fellate the Neighbors."

This is the Disney Channel you are familiar with. The Disney Channel that has since poisoned every industry from music to TV to clothing to movies to cooking (probably). The Disney Channel that I love.

That's right. I fucking love it. Why, you might ask? Because of a simple theory I have that has thus far proven to be true. Disney gets genetically perfect kids, exploits them for all they're worth, and kicks them to the curb once puberty sets in. Sound about right? Well, let's explore why it's so fantastic together.

Step 1: You're hired!... As a bit player of a currently hot show.

Disney likes to test the waters. Sure, your fourteen-year-old genes might make people born with flippers for arms wish they had a third of your looks. Sure, you may have broken up a neighbor's marriage because the bored husband was taking pictures of you through the curtains, but are you talentless yet pretty enough to carry your own show? Disney will shoehorn you into the background of a currently running TV show to see how well you can follow directions and appeal to the market before the next Demi Lovato becomes the next Hilary Duff. If you're vaguely ethnic, even better. Vaguely ethnic pretty young people appeal to young ethnic kids who are looking for role models and young white kids who want to frustrate their parents.

(I can't believe you got your own franchise either.)

Step 2: Your very own show!

Congratulations! Disney was probably convinced you deserve your own show because you're thin and pretty and can kind of sing! Good for you! Are you ready to churn out CDs to children whose parents will soon lose their minds by listening to your interpretation of "Let's Get Together" over and over again? Hooray! Let's give you a name that sounds kind of like yours and put you in a familiar location and make it completely wacky. Like in middle school, but you're secretly an international rock star! Or in middle school, but you're a witch! Or in middle school, but you can see the future! That's so interesting! That's so awesome! That's so Raven! Now, we're only going to make three seasons of your show. During those three seasons there will be no character development at all. Everyone must stay the way there are and have one character trait. We don't know how to develop people with more traits than that. Characters who we write as your best friends may not have the appeal we need, so we might fire them in the middle of a season, so continuity is a big no-no. Finally, we're only going to give you three seasons because after that our studies show that you n longer have that innocent look and parents will be looking for the next thing to keep their kids sheltered. But don't worry, we'll have a huge theatrical movie that will cap off the series, although almost every secondary character will be missing and it'll be focused on you and a far-off location and a love interest. But you'll get to sing all the music for the soundtrack and this will launch your music career, which we'll manage.

Step 3: Life A.D. (After Disney)

Now that you're too old for TV appeal, we'll keep churning out your CDs until the next thing on the Disney Channel usurps you. That'll be good for about six months. Meanwhile we'll rerun your show for the next five years, gaining any cash from residual marketing and interest. You may feel that you're getting a bit too old for Disney now. Instead of letting you live in obscurity with the money you don't deserve, we're going to keep whoring you out like the cash cow you are. You'll be 26 and still playing a 15 year old, but we won't tell anyone.
You may also be noticing things about your persona now. You're barely 18 now and the media is starting to sexualize you. That tends to happen when genetically perfect children grow up and blossom. You're a hottie. But don't let anyone know. Your nightclub antics are starting to catch up with you. All that cocaine might be good for your figure, but parents tend to frown on that kind of thing. That's fine, but expect us to distance ourselves from you as soon as this happens. If you're still making money for us in "High School Musical 7: The Community College Years," we'll put out a statement of support and let you off with a warning. Next time you're on your own.


4. Ok, ok we get it.

You want to move on. You don't want to be perceived as another kiddie Disney princess, so you'll be looking for breakout roles outside the company. Your career with us has come to a halt. You're tried to explore other things, but they're just not successful. It's almost as if you never had the talent we told you you had. Like all you had going for you was marketability and good looks. Like the only reason you're still relevant is because men just wanted you to turn 18 so they could jerk off without the tinge of guilt. But fine, get out of here. Don't try to come back. But somehow, despite your lack of talent and range, you really want some work that will make people take you as a serious actress and not just someone who could do a double take in a school gym.


5. You're an adult.

So, doesn't it feel good to be away from Disney? What a bunch of assholes. But hey, you're pretty and talented. You're signed with us now. You have this drive to be considered a serious actress even though you don't have the chops for it. And you're desperate to stand apart from that cute role that got you famous. What would be the logical ting for a pretty young girl who wants to be seen as an adult and has been lusted after for years?