3 Dramatically-redefined-company-statements out of 4
Our culture is over-saturated with “fresh” takes on old classics. In the current climate of remakes, sequels, and reboots, too often are older properties revamped or retooled for a younger, newer audience unaware or unfamiliar with classic stories. The truth of the matter is that the “classics” – the stories that we’ve all heard time and again – are incredibly appealing due to their ability to immediately produce affect in an audience. Why run the risk of alienating a foreign market or losing money in domestic theatres with new ideas, when it’s possible to launch a familiar story to an already-invested audience?
With Into the Woods, Disney yet again attempts to inject vitality and modernity into a classic story, in an attempt to rebrand itself as a company for the modern age. Rob Marshall’s film, with a screenplay penned by James Lapine, succeeds thanks to its talented cast, crisp direction, and clear editing. However, an oft-meandering plot that ultimately fails to produce any resonant affect in its audience brings an otherwise enjoyable film to its knees.
The story is quite simple: a childless baker and his wife are informed of a curse cast on their home by an old, ugly witch, and embark on a journey to right any wrongs for a baby. Over the course of their quest, they meet Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, Prince Charming, and a host of other Grimm characters played by talented and famous names.
…the House of Mouse has certainly been trying very hard to subvert expectations.
Meryl Streep, Anna Kendrick, Chris Pine, and Emily Blunt are all given speaking and singing roles, and their combined talent is certainly enough to keep an audience hooked for the film’s duration. Equally enjoyable is the manner in which each actor is cast in a role that stands in contrast to their usual cinematic fare. The handsome Pine plays Prince Charming, yes, but Charming is everything to the contrary. The usually confident and decisive Kendrick is given a role as a mistreated scullery maid utterly incapable of determining her own fate. Streep plays an old crone, and so forth.
Marshall’s film, based on the play of the same name by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine, is a movie with its roots firmly grounded in the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales of old. There is, however, an odd sense of irony in claiming that Into the Woods is a product of modern reboot sensibilities. Certainly, its multi-character plot, that subverts fairy tales in a manner similar to modern Disney films – and ABC’s ONCE – seems like an idea concocted by uncreative millennial boardroom executives. However, the story hails from the far away land of 1986, when it was still in vogue to think of a universe where “happily ever after” is not possible – where it was possible to produce a story about fairy tales falling apart without thinking of Shrek’s eponymous green ogre.
Indeed, modern-day fairy-tale stories owe quite a bit to Broadway’s Into the Woods. That is to say, modern Disney, with its intense focus on eschewing the antiquated company-wide obsession with beautiful damsels and the distress they find themselves in, owes quite a bit to this simple story where nothing works out in the end.
On that note, is there any company that has attempted to ignore its unfavourable, oft-criticized past as much as Disney? In an age where marketing teams attempt to launch corporations into the glowing, consumer-driven future, is there any company that has attempted to completely rebrand itself – while simultaneously clinging to everything its consumers hold dear – as much as Disney? With new stories that seek to introduce the traditionally masculine notions of bravery, courage, and strength to a new generation of boys and girls, the House of Mouse has certainly been trying very hard to subvert expectations.
Regardless, in spite of all of its successes, Into the Woods falls flat due to a meandering third act that fails to capitalize on the momentum generated by its first two parts. After each character gets what they want, they quickly learn that desire and necessity are not identical. What results is a third act that retroactively works to tear the beginning of the film apart. What’s then left is a message highly critical of desire; we can’t always get what we want, it seems, but sometimes, we get what we need. In the case of Into the Woods, what I wanted was a compelling character drama, and what I got was a sometimes interesting, sometimes entertaining story about being careful what we wish for.