“Girls bored me. They still do.” – Walt Disney^[1]

Disney’s Parallels

If we look at the 1932 cartoon film Flowers and Trees and the 2007 film Enchanted there are some obvious parallels among the gender dynamics portrayed. Flowers and Trees portrays two male trees and one female, and each male demonstrates his skills to win the affection of the female. The better fit male tree wins the battle and, by the end of the film, the two are married and live happily among the plant people. The 2007 film Enchanted details the story of Giselle, a princess who leaves her fairytale home only to end up living out her own fairytale in the real world (New York City). There, Giselle meets a wealthy lawyer Robert, and the two end up happily together, leaving behind Prince Edward in Andalasia.

In each film, we see the princess and the prince, the princess and the evil or bad guy, and/or the princess and her female duties. The female character lacks a singularity in each film, and because of this we as viewers attach her to something; she is dependent, and her domestic actions (e.g. cleaning or sewing) are solely for the benefit of her male counterpart. As viewers we should also make note of the time both the female tree and Giselle spend on these tasks. The female tree devotes the entirety of her appearance in the six-minute film to either ‘receiving’ (gifts or proposals) or ‘giving’ (dancing for the men). When she is not receiving or giving, she beautifies herself with the female plants. Likewise, Giselle is intentionally made to appear as a ditzy and oblivious princess who, for most the movie, spends her days waiting on Prince Edward to come rescue her. Or, when she isn’t thinking about her prince, she is cleaning and cooking for Robert and his daughter. Another paralleled trope we can identify is the 2:1 ratio, or the two men and one female dynamic. In each, there are two males—the good and bad male tree or Robert and Prince Edward—who lay claim to the female as their own, and then proceed to fight over her. This ratio not only places importance on the males’ interests, but it removes the female’s involvement in the plot entirely. The plot becomes male-centric; in the cartoon, the development of the plot relies on the male trees fight and, in the movie, the same goes for Prince Edward’s rescue or the fight between him and Robert. Both films also end up reestablishing the ‘true love’ trope. Within the seven minutes or a couple days of knowing each other, the female and male are happily married or together. Giselle, for example, dedicates her life in and outside of Andalasia to finding her one true love. Although this was not Prince Edward, she ends up with Robert despite discovering a new sense of freedom and autonomy in the city. Similarly, the female tree ends up in love with the male tree without opposition, as the resolution to the film must be marriage.

Where Can We Place Blame?

The Disney franchise has created some of the world’s most iconic fairytales and profited from Western conventions of romance, heroism and soul-searching. He and his franchise have also become the subject of considerable academic enquiry. More specifically, Disney’s attitudes towards gender equality in films—beginning in the 1900s until the twenty-first century—remain problematic. This is not a new concept. The franchise continues to play to sexist and paternalistic narratives which consequently, has undoubtedly defined gender norms for the rest of the film industry. Disney’s dominance in the cartoon market and in the popular imagination, and the proximity of Disney’s gender norm to that of society at large are to blame. This mainstream depiction of gender relationships appears both in short subjects starring figures like Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, etc. and higher profile full-length feature films. While the feature-length Disney films certainly reflect societal gender norms closely, each of these works depict a rather different universe. In each we find both male and female characters, but in the context of a male-dominated pairing or a male-centered universe. Mickey Mouse has Minnie Mouse; Mickey has a dog, Pluto; Pluto has a female partner, Fifi; Donald has Daisy, and so on. Female characters are secondary, existing only as mates for male figures, and receiving less attention in plotting, advertising and cartoon titles.^[2]

We can also blame Disney’s historical context. During the post-war years (1918-1932)— the years leading up to the making of Flowers and Trees— we see a retreat from higher education and professional life. Can we locate the decline in the resurgent conservatism of the 1920s and the Great Depression of the 1930s? Or, did college women’s growing interest in matrimony and the emergence of compulsory heterosexuality and homophobia in the 1910s and thereafter, effect declines in women’s professional contributions?^[3] Either way, the collapse of women’s education and professions was a historical marker to the end of the First World War; a “women’s persistence in the labor force [and educational institution] violated the social order.”^[4]

Disney’s Values in Action

If we also consider the history of working women, there has been a general rise throughout the 20^th century in those who work outside the domestic sphere. More significantly, there is a rise in the number of both men and women who approve of married women taking part in employment. In 1938, one year after the release of Snow White, 25% of women and 19% of men approved of women working. In 1972, six years after Walt’s death, these numbers grew to 66% of women and 62% of men. The major shift here can be found in the changing attitudes towards working women, not only in attitudes towards working women as a demographic, but specifically to the concept of White, middle-class, married working women. The United States needed more nurses, teachers, etc. as “these occupations were regarded as incompatible with masculinity.” Most of these professions required at least some higher education and, generally, women who had these qualifications were White and made up the middle-class.

World War II also spiked the number of women in the labor force in the 1950s and 60s— “women never lost their taste for the independence of employment.”^[5] Yet, in order to support the returning men, women were warned to exercise great care to their households once more. Marriage counselors suggested women encourage their husband to take charge of their families again, and that returning vets value admiration and submissiveness. The pressure to abandon their professional lives and return to their domestic duties arrived even before the war began. Employers began to prioritize men as applicants, and the post-war years took refuge in re-emerging cultural traditions. General MacArthur wrote: “the noble influence of womanhood and the home which has done so much to further American stability and progress, and upon which I place most implicit trust that those new and higher ideals [will remain].”^[6] This concept, that women are an inherently stabilizing force, was present throughout the late 19^th and 20^th centuries, and certainly had much in common with the professed system of values present in the Disney franchise.

What Now?

One could say Giselle subverts the Disney princess norm as she was ultimately the one to save Robert from the evil queen. Or, that the movie itself portrays Giselle as such because it is a parody of Disney’s tropes. Yet, this film does not do enough to repair the damage. Enchanted consciously adheres to Disney’s most recognizable characteristics, but does little deviate from the toxic masculinity and outdated concepts of femininity it presents. Instead, the film appears more stereotypical than, say, Cinderella. If we also consider the cartoon, the female flower appears independent and nonchalant for some of the film. Yet, the film also unconsciously lays the foundation to fairytale clichés; as one of Disney’s first animated series, the plot of Flowers and Trees set the stage to decades of fairy tales Enchanted so desperately attempts to deviate from: the two men fight over the girl, the good guy wins and gets the girl, and they are married by the end of the film (e.g. Disney’s Beauty and the Beast). In this comparison, we have a 1932 film which unconsciously establishes the conventional damsel and distress and a 2007 film designed to self-parody this classic fairy tale trope. Have things really changed? Sure, as audiences and filmmakers we’re able to recognize the faults in predictable love stories and patriarchal ideologies. But, a film like Enchanted is as conventional as the films it tries to satirize. It satisfies all our “normal,” and cultural expectations, only to further typify fairy tale films in its representation of women and patriarchal, sociocultural perspectives. The film reworks fairy tale motifs to support a conventional Euro-North American worldview that reinforces the exact rhythms of all Disney animated musicals which precede it. For instance, the female protagonist Giselle seeks personal fulfillment through domesticity; in a parody of Disney princesses Snow White and Cinderella, Giselle calls on hundreds of her city animal friends to help clean the apartment of a complete stranger. She sings and dances to the tune “Happy Working Song,” with lyrics that include “We adore each filthy chore.” This, of course, raises a number of issues. Giselle cleans the apartment of a man she met in the streets of New York City and in a home she slept in without concern for her safety. The man is also apparently unable to clean his own apartment despite being an attorney at a major Manhattan law firm. ^[7] The opposite of a self-actualized feminist, Giselle defines a regressive, vulnerable and heterosexist role.

In response to social pressure, minimal efforts have been made in the recent past to incorporate moderately feminist ideals into its fairy tale films, yet this can be more accurately described as “faux feminism.” This impulse trivializes feminist ideologies or compresses the actions of female characters into conventions of popular romance while “maintaining that they are her choice, not actions instilled by patriarchal teaching and values.” ^[8] Disney films also place elements of self-determination or empowerment into the portrayal of female protagonists, only to undermine them with plot resolutions that equate her fulfillment with heterosexual romance. Even when female protagonists are spirited or bright their agency “reflects[s] a carefully scripted concept of pop femininity, constructed to be acceptable and entertaining” to a Western audience. In Enchanted, for example, this faux feminism is seen in Giselle’s demonstration of resourcefulness as she makes a dress out of curtains, yet these actions reinforce her allegiance to domesticity and self-beautification. Instead of finding a way back to Andalasia, she makes clothing. Her gradual path to self-actualization—thinking for herself, realizing she loves Robert, starting her own business—is undermined by a narrative that defines Giselle in relationship to a man. The Disney version of fairy tales domesticates feminism in such a way that has always—from the 30s to the twenty-first century—made characters who cling to heteronormative and sexist ideals happy and successful. Any attempt to diverge from this universal ideal has been unsuccessful.

Annabelle Guss is a Sophomore at Wake Forest University.