Welcome to the inaugural review for The Weekly Scene, the Ontarion’s newly formed movie review column. Over the weeks I’ll be reviewing new releases, movies screened as a part of Sunday Cinema, and features playing downtown at The Bookshelf. In honour of the great Roger Ebert, movies are rated on a scale of four, and ratings aren’t just an indication of how good a movie is, but also an indication of how strongly I feel people should watch a particular film. Enjoy the show, and expect a new review every week.
Rating: 4 Cryokinetically-created-castles-on-a-mountain out of 4
Disney’s princesses have always been a group of leading ladies whose personalities and characteristics come under fire for perpetuating negative female stereotypes. That’s really a complicated way of saying, “there’s always a man they’re subservient towards,” and in many ways, it’s an argument that (ironically) overshadows the characters’ numerous personal accomplishments.
Recent memory has shown a shift in thinking. Audiences were first introduced to princess Merida in Disney and Pixar’s joint production Brave. Merida was a strong-willed princess whose decision to avoid marriage and gain control of her life allowed her to complete her journey without ever actually falling in love with a male character. Instead, her journey was about reclaiming her independence and discovering the power that the female gender holds. That her teacher was a literal mama bear was more tongue-in-cheek poignancy than slap-in-the-face irony.
In Frozen, the main character, Elsa, and her extroverted younger sister, Anna, are the newest additions to the Princess Pantheon. A screenplay by Jennifer Lee continues Disney’s tradition of strong women in leading roles by producing a riveting story of family and the transcendent connection between siblings.
However, the fact that the siblings are sisters in no way implies any juvenile notions of sisterhood. Instead, Lee’s script focuses on the relationship between Anna and Elsa, while simultaneously doing away with the traditional notions of romance in movies. I won’t say that the characters don’t act like they’re in a romantic musical, but I will say that the prince asks before kissing anyone, and it’s not hokey at all.
The idea of musical theatre is most important in Frozen, as Broadway star Idina Menzel lends her stunning mezzo to Elsa. Menzel steals the show with her voice, but Kristen Bell is a strong second as Anna. Bell’s less refined pipes also act as characterizations of Anna’s impulsive act-first-think-later attitude.
Articulating the film’s focus on Elsa and Anna, the two princesses share the bulk of the musical numbers.
Frozen also has some of the most stunning visuals I’ve ever seen in an animated film, and it is figurative icing on the cake. Characters are expressive and real in an exorbitant way, and the castle-building sequence is the film’s strongest visual point. The animation team’s use of ice and snow as story-telling devices proves that the effective use of animation is still a possibility in this electronic age. Yes, it’s a beautifully animated cartoon, but the film uses its beauty to tell a story instead of simply giving the audience something pretty to look at.
One wonders if there isn’t also a statement about character-writing to be made here.
Praise should be given to Jonathon Groff and Santino Fontano as the voices of Kristoff the mountain man and Anna’s love interest, Prince Hans. They play their roles with energy, though it’s a shame to see that the talented Groff isn’t afforded very much time to sing.
Important to note is that the two male leads aren’t written as subservient or weak to the girls, and neither do they overcompensate their masculinity at the notion of women.
Gender doesn’t matter, it’s character that does.
It’s this portrayal of male and female interaction that challenges the audience, though it shouldn’t be strange having female and male characters on equal footing. Elsa and Anna don’t change their personalities around these men, they don’t show more skin, and they certainly don’t forget the importance of family the moment the boys walk into their lives.
Indeed, if there’s one thing Disney has always done well, it’s proving their commitment to writing characters with complex relationships.
Finally, I feel the need to praise Josh Gad. He voices Olaf the snowman – who “likes warm hugs” – and he deserves every bit of recognition for the wonder and amazement he brings to a character who is wonderfully childlike and amazing. Important to note is that Olaf’s character never grows annoying, nor is he given too much time as the film’s comic relief. Olaf is written almost perfectly, and any more time with him would have been exhausting.
Much of Frozen is the same as Olaf: a little more music, a little more drama, a little more snow, and it would have been too much. Instead, there’s a gratifying mix of music, romance, story, and humour.
Disney doesn’t seem content making movies for kids anymore, nor does it seem content making movies that make audiences feel young. Disney seems to want to make great stories that make us feel wonder and amazement. Frozen proves they’re succeeding.
