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Walt Disney's namesake has populated the headlines for several months now, often centered around some new controversy. Even so, Disney employees remain committed to the culture war, taking backlash in stride. They feuded last year with Florida Governor DeSantis over the Parental Rights in Education law. They ignored international uproar over the insertion of gay romance in Eternals, Lightyear, and Strange World, and proudly state their mission to advance a "not-so-secret gay agenda" in children's shows. Nevertheless, regardless of whether fans support Disney's efforts, it is difficult to take the studio's activism seriously when the company gave special thanks in Mulan's credits to eight different Xinjiang government bodies responsible for the Uyghur genocide.
In light of this, some have called for viewers to "#DropDisney," arguing that movie-goers should spend their money elsewhere. But if people merely want cartoons devoid of political propaganda, that may inadvertently compound the problem. Whether or not a nine-year-old watches the latest Pixar film should be an apolitical decision. After all, many of Disney's universally acclaimed works convey fairly liberal ideas. Gaston is a caricature of traditional masculinity and princesses like Jasmine and Rapunzel, each critical of gender roles, defied their parents repeatedly. Then there's Judge Claude Frollo, a brilliant take on Hugo's legendary character, who hardly paints a flattering picture of organized religion.
Nevertheless, Disney's modern animations lack the magic of their predecessors. Recent films spurn our desire for a good villain getting his or her comeuppance, instead attempting to communicate complicated themes that are more targeted toward pleasing film critics than entertaining kids.
In the early-to-mid 2010s, some fans noted the studio's overuse of "twist villains," complaining that writers were not putting in the effort to develop compelling storylines and were instead employing unexpected betrayals to engage viewers. Disney's defenders argued that identifying real bad guys isn't always easy and that children should comprehend that. The back-stabbing enemies worked well in Coco and Frozen, but they fell flat in Wreck-it-Ralph, Zootopia, Big Hero 6, and Incredibles 2. And they were utterly ludicrous in Cars 2.
Refraining from introducing the main antagonist until later parts of a movie gives viewers less of a stake in the overall conflict. Praise was thrown upon several of these films for their "refreshing" "reworks" of older "tropes." But this is just tantamount to novelty for novelty's sake. A review of Zootopia put it succinctly: "It's colorful, fun, and has a good message. Will I remember it tomorrow? Probably not, but that doesn't mean I didn't like it today."
Newer productions display a different but related trend, emphasizing moral ambiguity through personal and/or relatable struggles. Though Encanto's representation of Latino culture was excellent, its discussion of intergenerational trauma likely went over the heads of many and, apart from its impeccable soundtrack, it was fairly forgettable. Similarly, Soul's thesis that even a life without a purpose or "spark" is worth living, centered around a soul that refused to be born, was a tad existentialist for children. The foes in Raya and the Last Dragon were nameless and boring—distrust was the true enemy. (Ironic, considering the aforementioned "twist villains.") Unfortunately, critics have been so pleased with these movies' depictions of underrepresented cultures that they overlook the fact that they are marketed toward children. Everyone remembers Simba and Scar. Soul's Joe and Terry? Less so.
Turning Red is Disney's chief offender. It tackled the Asian-American "Tiger Mom" cliché by addressing menstruation...and an irritating 13-year-old girl's "lust" for boy bands and older men, to quote the director. It culminated in the main character striking and knocking her well-meaning mother unconscious, rejecting family traditions, and deciding to live in her unique way. Bafflingly, her family commended her disregard for their counsel. Critics on "Rotten Tomatoes" somehow adored this flashy eyesore, applauding its "femininity" and "female empowerment." But it was distinctly less popular with broader audiences, earning the honor of becoming the biggest box-office bomb of all time. A movie about puberty that maligns a caring mother failed to captivate? Mind-boggling.
In sum, then, this represents more than a few unrelated artistic misjudgments. Disney sacrificed the archetypical narrative of good versus evil to that dreaded altar of "nuance." Gone are iconic and memorable baddies like Jafar and Ursula, who are defeated by inspiring protagonists. The "twist villains" challenged children's innocent and pure love for heroes, encouraging cynical skepticism instead. In its pathological drive to challenge our moral intuitions of "black and white," Disney forfeited the vibrant colors we naturally adore, exalting perceived relatability over virtue in the process.
Luckily, there are alternatives. DreamWorks' Puss in Boots: The Last Wish and Illumination's The Super Mario Bros. Movie each represents exactly what Disney should aim for. Each is a beautifully animated and hilarious smash hit, depicting classic, heroic adventures with unforgettable villains. The former also presented thorny questions for older audiences, pertaining to ego, mortality, and adoption. The latter's simple plot infuriated critics, yet it is breaking records as audiences praise its music and cast. Kids, unsurprisingly, chose to watch the quest of the iconic Mario (Chris Pratt) against his arch-nemesis (Jack Black) over a film about menstruation.
Children love stories about good guys versus bad guys. Disney's decision to subvert that is not only financially foolhardy, but also unnecessary. Real evil isn't incompatible with nuanced or fresh stories. Watch movies like Mario and Puss in Boots 2 before Disney's latest, forgettable attempt at relatability. Turning Red simply isn't worth your time, no matter one's politics.
Aron Ravin is a junior at Yale College studying history. In addition to contributing to and managing several campus publications, he has previously written for National Review.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
