"Mulan": Feminism with a Twist

Sixteen years before Frozen's Elsa and Anna were being touted as the only Disney princesses who didn't need a man to save them, Mulan was saving a military general's son and all of China with nothing more than a shoe and some fireworks. While she may not technically be a princess (but, let's face it, neither are Cinderella, Belle, or Tiana), Mulan has stood in almost unnoticed opposition to the all-too-common complaint that Disney heroines are stereotypically helpless beauty queens. So why has she been forgotten or ignored by the majority of female Disney fans who have apparently been dying for a heroine that could stand up for herself against her male counterparts? I think there are two reasons for this: 1) she's not power-hungry enough to satisfy the neo-feminists; 2) she's not boy-crazy enough to satisfy the girly-girls. Mulan is not out to prove that women are equal to or better than men; she's not out to impress the guys and win their undying admiration, either. Despite all the gender-bending possibilities presented by a heroine who dresses as a boy and Chinese warriors who dress as girls to save the Emperor from Hun invaders, Mulan is a film principally about the relationship between a father and his daughter. It's about the difficulty of not knowing your place in the world and feeling like you are letting down the people you love most. It's about loving someone so much that you'd be willing to risk a shameful death for him, and being so committed to your ideals that you'd defy anyone to uphold them. It's about discovering your inner strength and accepting yourself for who you are. Apparently, none of this really counts as being an image of a strong female figure to modern Disney acolytes; what matters most is being able to punch one guy in the face, while kissing the next.

Mulan's experience with the matchmaker in the beginning of the film set the tone for what is principally important to her. As her mother and grandmother prepare her for the meeting in which a husband will be prescribed for her, Mulan (in song, of course) prays to her ancestors for help in this matter: "Ancestors, / Hear my plea, / Help me not to make a fool of me, / And to not uproot my family tree, / Keep my father standing tall". Her three desires are intrinsically linked to each other: her love for her father encourages her to want to love what he loves and uphold what he upholds, specifically, the honor of her family's name and history. In order for her to uphold the family's honor, she must fulfill her societal role worthily by making a good match with an honorable man, being a model wife for him, and bearing sons to carry on the family's honor and to serve the Emperor. None of these things are necessarily bad; it's not a bad thing to marry an honorable man, nor to be a good wife, nor to have children. What is problematic, especially in Mulan's case, is that the societal definition of femininity is so extremely limiting: "Men want girls / With good taste, / Calm, obedient, / Who work fast-paced. / With good breeding / And a tiny waist, / You'll bring honor to us all". Other words used to describe the perfect, honorable, match-worthy woman are: "soft", "pale", "serenity", "balance", "beauty", "cultured pearls", "silk purse", "perfect porcelain doll". Mulan herself at the beginning of the film lists off the necessary female virtues: "Quiet and demure, graceful, polite, delicate, refined, poised". The matchmaker adds to these: "To please your future in-laws, you must demonstrate a sense of dignity and refinement. You must also be poised ... and silent." None of these traits are bad things in and of themselves -- politeness and obedience are actually very valuable things -- but, when they become the only acceptable features of femininity, social acceptance and honor become things near impossible for women with outgoing, gregarious, confident, and assertive personalities to obtain. Mulan, who possesses most of these latter qualities and few of the former, is deemed unfit for any of the eligible matches and is sent home from the matchmaker in disgrace.

It is not this disgrace, however, that drives her to dress as a man and join the Chinese army. Although Mulan is ashamed of disappointing her family, especially her father, his reaction is to remind her that she is still young and still has time to discover her true talents and abilities. Using an analogy to cherry blossoms, Fa Zhou points to a late bloomer and predicts that, "when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all". Far from encouraging Mulan to seek out fame in battle as an alternative form of honor for her family, her father encourages her to allow herself time to discover herself and find her place in life. Mulan is content to do this until Fa Zhou is conscripted into the army to fight the Huns. Having already fought in many battles and having retired due to a war injury, there is little hope that he will survive. It is this love for her father that spurs Mulan into action by taking her father's armor and conscription notice in order to take his place. Suddenly, Mulan's story becomes one of of self-sacrifice instead of self-discovery. Rather than running away in order to prove that she is a valuable member of society, or closing in on herself and rejecting the demands of society, Mulan's aims are for the good of others and are steeped in self-giving, though impetuous, love. This is what makes Mulan stand out as a Disney heroine: her aim is not to prove that she can best the boys at their own game; her aim is to preserve the life of those she loves regardless of the cost to herself. Although her father insists on following the social norms for honor and encourages Mulan to understand her place within those norms, Mulan's love defies place, time, norms, culture, and gender, declaring dramatically that the law of love is more binding than any other human imposition.

It cannot be denied that, after joining the other recruits at the Moo-Shung camp, Mulan does feel the need to prove herself to her fellow soldiers, especially to Captain Li Shang. However, despite her own reflections on her reasons for joining the army after it is discovered that she is a woman, gender equality is never the first thing that is on her mind. Instead, Mulan draws on a heated conversation with her father before her decision to take his place in the army. Mulan argues vehemently for all of the very understandable reasons why her father should not have to fight: he has already fought for China and done his duty, he has an injury, and there are plenty of young men to fight for China. Fa Zhou responds that it is an honor to fight for his country and his family, and Mulan is outraged that he will die for something like honor. Her father responds with one of the most integral lines in the film: "I will die doing what's right". Despite the fact that this line is uttered in a heated argument between father and daughter, this is what is at the heart of all Mulan's actions. She leaves to join the military, and risks death and dishonor for doing so, in order to do what is right for her father. Mulan stops Shan Yu's army in the Tung Chow Pass, not for her own honor or to strike a blow for equality, but to protect the comrades she has come to know and love. She flies to the Imperial City to warn the Emperor of Shan Yu's impending attack, not in order to receive any reward or so that women will be recognized for anything more than wives, but because it is the right thing to do. She reveals herself to Shan Yu as the soldier who took away his victory in the Tung Chow Pass, not because she wanted to show that women could be successful military leaders or so that everyone would recognize her personally for her deeds, but in order to save Li Shang from the Hun's wrath. Mulan does not stand any more chance against Shan Yu than Shang does; she just happens to have a dragon guardian and a lucky cricket helping her get things done. In all of Mulan's actions, what is emphasized is that doing what is right and just, like love, are also actions that transcend time, place, laws, cultures, and genders. No one has a monopoly on love, justice, or goodness; we are all called to uphold these virtues and live them out in all aspects of our lives.

The film does promote the right of women to have their voices heard in equal proportion to that of men. Mulan is told multiple times to remain silent, when she speaks out in favor of her father and when she tries to warn the army of the imminent attack on Imperial City. Chi Fu, the misogynistic chief advisor to the Emperor, interrupts Mulan's plea on behalf of her father and encourages Fa Zhou to teach her to "hold her tongue in a man's presence". Li Shang, hurt, angry, and most likely embarrassed over the discovery that his friend Ping is actually a girl, refuses to listen to Mulan's warning about the Huns because her lie about her gender proves her to be untrustworthy. Even though Mulan insists that she and Ping are the same person and both worthy of trust, Shang tell her that she doesn't belong there and to go home. When Mulan tries to warn the male citizens of the Imperial City, none of them will listen to her because of her gender. At the end of the film, the Emperor strikes a blow in favor of equality by bowing to Mulan in gratitude for saving the city, offering her a position on his council, including Chi Fu's own job as chief advisor, and grants her gifts acknowledging her service to the Emperor and to China. What might make many neo-feminists squirm in their seats is Mulan's refusal of a place of political and social power in favor of simply going home to her family. One could argue that Mulan denies herself the opportunity to give other Chinese women a voice in the political and social realms of her nation, thereby keeping women trapped within the same roles that originally caused her so much distress herself. But Mulan's aim has never been to fight for gender equality; her aim was to preserve the father she loved. She has done that, and so she can return home to that father in peace. Mulan's actions have never been self-serving, but have constantly been other-oriented; her entire work as a soldier and hero of China has been a true labor of love.

The question of where Mulan fits in her family and in her social circles is left open-ended; despite all of her accomplishments, she is still on the road to self-discovery. Mulan's return home to face her father is one of uncertainty. She is the young girl again, rather than the warrior, afraid of her father's disappointment and anger at her dishonorable actions. She approaches him hesitantly and, when he sees her, throws herself at his feet and offers the Emperor's gifts to him, seeking his approval. In this most beautiful moment in the film, Fa Zhou pushes the Emperor's honors aside and takes his daughter in his arms, saying: "The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter". Mulan and Fa Zhou both come to understand that it is not our social status, our political connections, or our reputations that make us valuable. It is our very persons. The fact that we are human persons, capable of loving and being loved, is what makes us intrinsically valuable and worthy of honor. Of course, Mulan's gendered societal honor is still greatly assured, as Captain Li Shang follows her home and gets an invitation to dinner, signifying the beginning of a romantic courtship. But what is most important for Mulan, as a character and as a film, is the universal importance of doing what is right, even in the face of untold opposition.

Mulan stands out from almost all the other Disney films that purport to make a statement to girls about the value of being girls in that its focus is on the girl herself. Rather than watching supposedly strong heroines get sidetracked by one romantic affair after another, the story of Mulan remains firmly rooted in the heroine's own motivations and self-reflections. She has purpose and motivation outside of those of the principal male; she acts on her own initiative and for her own initiatives; and most, if not all, of her actions are rooted in objective virtues. She is also the only heroine who presents a positive and maturing relationship with her father, something that is desperately needed by this generation of women. But she doesn't get to rule a kingdom in the end or kiss a boy, so I guess she has little value as a prominent female role model.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Frozen: Best Disney Movie Ever?

After winning the Oscar for both Best Animated Feature and Best Original Song at the Academy Awards this year, Frozen is being hailed as the greatest film to come out of the Disney studios in the past two decades. According to the memes and comments running around on Pinterest, Tumblr, and Facebook, the common consensus among girls aged 12 - 26 seems to reecho this praise. Frozen has ushered in a new "golden age" of Disney films that embraces both the princess tradition and the Broadway flair, while reestablishing its relevance to the ideals and struggles of young "Millennials". The story of two princesses, sisters who share a close bond but are estranged by older sister Elsa's lack of control over her unexplained icy powers, is one that seems to promote friendship and support between women rather than a reliance on male heroes. Much has been made of the pragmatic wisdom of Elsa's exclamation that younger sister Anna cannot possibly get engaged to someone she just met that day, marking a deviation from the usual course of Disney lovers who meet, fall in love, and marry within the span of a few days. And, of course, the painfully obvious message of the film (verbally affirmed by the living snowman Olaf) that true love means sacrificing yourself for another person provides the warm, fuzzy heart of the entire Frozen story. All in all, it is considered a film with important messages for all ages.

A story with these messages might not give me that much to complain about if the story itself actually supported the morals it claims to. And, in some instances, it does. However, the story of Frozen takes a couple of turns that tend to take away from its central message, sometimes replacing it with others. The beginning of the story sets the stage for character growth and the development of a beautiful relationship between two sisters with the problem of Elsa's uncontrolled icy outbursts that end up putting Anna in mortal danger. However, the opportunity for personal friction between the two is cut short by the arbitrary decision that Grand Pabbie the Troll King's healing powers remove Anna's memories of Elsa's powers. Because Anna doesn't remember that Elsa has powers, the story removes the opportunity for Anna to resent Elsa's powers precisely because she knows they are the reason they cannot play together. This resentment would then be something that Anna has to overcome and love her sister through, thereby providing her with the opportunity to love truly, to sacrifice her own desires for the sake of the one she loves. The problem of friction between the sisters is almost reestablished when Anna declares to Elsa her intent to marry Hans, receiving Elsa's shocked response and the refusal of her blessing. This moment, regardless of Anna's memory, would provide enough tension between the sisters to promote Anna's growth from self-centered and resentful younger sister to understanding, loving, and rehabilitating savior. This opportunity is passed over as well, since Anna's rediscovery of Elsa's powers has zero effect on her (she barely pauses to process the fact before flying to her sister's aid) and her plans to marry Hans, regardless of Elsa's blessing, are in no way hampered. The entire confrontation becomes a moot point from which neither sister gains and serves only to provide contrived plot movement so that Elsa's power can "accidentally" be revealed to the public. Oh, and I guess Disney gets to score some cynical points against first loves and brief courtships.

Maybe we could leave aside the whole engagement thing if the story kept the focus on the relationship between the two sisters. Since, after all, that is the main focus of the story and men are not important, it should be quite easy to send both sisters off into the snow to have a heart-to-heart in which they learn significant lessons about themselves and each other. This could be a perfect opportunity to learn what love truly is from each other. Unfortunately, after Elsa's Broadway-worthy extravaganza in which she creates her own ice palace, she essentially becomes a side character as almost all character development moves to the new arrival Kristoff and his briefly antagonistic but quickly romantic relationship with Anna. Rather than seeing the two sisters come to terms with their own inner demons (resentment and self-centered impetuosity on Anna's part, and self-loathing and a desire to lash out on Elsa's), we get to witness the character development of Kristoff as he quickly melts from self-proclaimed misanthrope to point number three in a completely unnecessary love triangle. By taking the focus off of Elsa and shoving another man into the picture, Frozen's insistence that it isn't about boys starts to fall flat. The other major drawback is that Elsa's strong, intriguing, and sympathetic character is given hardly any treatment, which is probably the worst blow to the entire story.

Speaking of the love triangle, I don't think there's been a more useless waste of male characters since Twilight's Edward and Jacob. The "Team Hans" and "Team Kristoff" factions that are inevitably cropping up on the internet are an assured testament to that. Of course, the problem with "Team Hans" is that Frozen's plot twist has given them no real leg to stand on: Hans is a villain. I have deep-seated issues with this presentation of the two male characters. Hans first appears to us as the golden boy of the film: he is gentlemanly, but carries himself with a boyish awkwardness that is endearing; he is caring and kind, but strong and firm when he needs to be; he is noble, both in staying behind to care for the kingdom and in going after Anna when it seems that she has miscarried; finally, he is depicted doing acts of charity by handing out blankets to the poor of Arendelle who are unprepared for Elsa's eternal winter. Kristoff, on the other hand, first appears as a gruff workaholic who only cares about his reindeer and doesn't like people for no discernible reason. Even though we are given a bit of backstory on Kristoff in the film's opening as the young boy cutting ice with the men and seemingly enjoying himself, the film provides no ostensible reason for the development of Kristoff's misanthropic behavior. He has less reason to hate the world than hipsters. And yet he is presented as this isolated person whose sensitive side must be drawn out by the boisterous and open personality of his female romantic interest. Even beyond the fact that this exact same relationship had just been portrayed in the last Disney film (Tangled 2010 -- Flynn Rider, anyone?), the addition of Kristoff to the mix is entirely superfluous. A story supposedly about two sisters does not need two male characters -- unless both girls will end up with one, I suppose. Since that's not the case in Frozen, only one character -- Hans, in my opinion -- is necessary. There would have been nothing wrong with portraying Hans as a truly honorable, loving, and good man rather than a secret villain whose charity is nothing but a mask to hide his murderous intentions. I'm not against a character being complex, but the idea that virtue is not complex is a false notion. Evil is boring. Hans got boring the very minute he admitted he was the villain. He instantly became another egomaniacal Machiavel bent on world domination -- or, at least, Arendelle domination. If there's one thing that's been done to death almost as much as princes and princesses marrying within three days, it's villains on power trips. Why not show a virtuous man struggling with the fact that there are some things he can't heal, like a frozen heart and a relationship between two sisters? There is complexity and struggle here without sacrificing virtue or resorting to cynicism by showing outward signs of charity as a mask through which evil men gain the people's trust. Besides, when was the last time Disney showed us a truly virtuous man? Prince Phillip in Sleeping Beauty (1959)? I think the time is long overdue for Disney to give boys a hero they can look up to rather than encouraging them to be content with mediocrity until a girl comes along. This is not to say that Kristoff is a bad character; the story probably could have functioned just as well with him instead of Hans. And, of course, he shows his own nobility when he insists on respecting the relationship between Anna and Hans despite his feelings for her, which is one of the story's better moments and serves as Olaf's prime example of true love. The biggest problem with the love triangle is simply that it takes away from the development of the relationship between the two sisters by distracting us with the relationship of the two suitors. All those claiming that this film stands out because it's about sisterhood of necessity need to explain away the entire middle of the story and invent some sort of character development for Elsa and Anna, because it does not exist in the film.

On that note, let's talk about the problem with Anna and the idea of "true love". When Anna admits that she doesn't know what true love is because the man she loved didn't love her back, Olaf responds with the moral of the film: true love sacrifices itself for others. The example presented is Kristoff's act of bringing Anna back to Arendelle to kiss Hans even though he loved her himself. Although this is not much of an act of heroism, since it is demanded of everyone that we respect the relationships of others, love does not need to be heroic to be true, and Kristoff's act of self-denial is a loving one. However, Anna immediately resolves her true love problem by instantaneously transferring her feelings for Hans to Kristoff and bounding off to kiss him instead. This is highly problematic and flies in the face of anyone who says this film teaches people not to fall in love too quickly. Anna falls in love with Kristoff just as quickly and just as blindly as she fell in love with Hans. It just so happens that Kristoff doesn't turn out to be a villain. It also reinforces the idea that true love only exists if the person loves you back; as long as someone offers you the feeling of being loved, it is perfectly acceptable to transfer your affection to another object. The person of Kristoff becomes less important than the fact that he is willing to kiss her. Even if Anna had reached Kristoff in time, that kiss would not have worked. Thank goodness Disney was able to contrive a different ending so that an act of true love could actually be committed by Anna herself or else the story would have had a pretty dismal ending.

The climax of the story is the silver lining in amongst all the clouds. The beautiful moment of self-sacrifice in which Anna saves Elsa from Hans hits all the right notes. Although the dialogue between the two sisters is tediously pedantic, the heart is in the right place: Anna saves Elsa for no other reason than that she loves her. And this recognition of being loved despite her frightening powers melts the heart of the Snow Queen, and then melts the enchanted winter blanketing Arendelle. What would make this scene even more conclusive is if there was any evidence of Elsa or Anna having developed as sisters or as characters. Anna has not changed at all, but maybe we can let that slide because the plot failed to give her any impulse to change in the first place. She changed boyfriends. And that's about it. Elsa, who had much more possibility for personal growth, changes from fearful to despairing to angry to grief-stricken to placidly sweet like a mood ring. Her change in character is not caused by serious self-reflection or self-revelation, but simply by the word "love". Love is what allows her to have complete mastery over her powers, but we are not sure how exactly "love" is meant to be understood. Does Elsa now just "love" everybody, so she can undo the winter? Is she feeling "love" at that moment and, as long as she "feels the love", everything will be all right? Despite the clear-cut moral given by Olaf, Elsa's evolution from fear to love is anything but clear. If the plot had actually focused on the sisters rather than on Anna's love affairs, maybe we would have received a clearer vision of the intensely captivating character created in Elsa. It is a real shame that Frozen misses the boat on this one: the Disney archives are full of Annas; there is only one Elsa, and she was sacrificed on the altar of cynicism about romantic love.

All of this to say that Frozen is not a bad film. It is one of the most visually stunning animated films to reach theaters, full of life and color and music. Its attention to detail is remarkable and the Scandinavian cultural history is vibrant. It provides the same brightness and energy, as well as quirky comedic banter, that, along with its forerunner Tangled, serve to mark the beginning of a new era in Disney films. However, Frozen lacks in a very real way the strength of story that would have made this film what people say it is: a story about strength in sisterhood, about women rescuing each other from frigidity and isolation, about prudence and wisdom and true love.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!