Review: Brave (Chapman/Andrews/Purcell)
Jun. 27th, 2012 10:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nebroadweAll her life, it seems, Princess Merida's tomboyishness has been indulged by her father, King Fergus, while her mother, Queen Elinor, attempts to mold her into a lady. No points for guessing whom the princess gets on with better. But when the queen announces that it's time for Merida's hand to be awarded to one of her father's vassals' sons for the good of the kingdom, Merida has had enough. Running away into the forest, she finds a woodcarving witch who gives her a spell that will change her fate by changing her mother. The problem is, Merida didn't specify the change she wanted; the witch has a thing for bears; and King Fergus has been planning his revenge on the bear who bit off his leg for years ...
I enjoyed this movie, but I have two problems with it that I need to get out of the way.
It's a joy to me to see an animated fairy-tale that focuses on the relationship between a mother and a daughter rather than a father and a son. That said, the context in which that relationship plays out is troubling, relying as it does on the gender clichés of "responsible woman"/"irresponsible man". The men in this film are portrayed as unable to properly police their own behavior; that's women's work. The scene in which Queen Elinor walks into a brawl in the great hall and immediately brings everyone to heel by her sheer (if dignified) presence is supposed to show her power, but it had me cringing. The idea that the work of controlling men's behavior falls to women because men can't do it themselves is pernicious -- people need to learn how to behave themselves. Plus, anyone who thinks this kind of control actually works outside the realm of fantasy hasn't read enough history: at best, the irresponsible behavior goes underground and spills over onto women coded as powerless (poor, unattached, lower class, sexually available ...). But Merida learns how to exert authority over a group of men twice her age by reminding them to act like adults, succeeding with a little help from her mother, and then sends them all off to get drunk. So, ugh.
The thematic center of this movie deals with another problem I find intriguing -- the relationship between individual freedom and social responsibility and how one balances the two. Although this balance is discussed through Merida's battles with her mother for control of her life, it's not presented as solely as a woman's problem, as one might expect (in an earlier era, she learn to accept her responsibilities; these days, she'd renounce her rank and ride off into the sunset with a lower-class male romantic lead). The story of the rebellious prince whose greed for power destroyed his kingdom makes it clear that this is an equal-opportunity conundrum, which, again, I like. Its specific form -- whether Merida should accept betrothal for the good of the kingdom -- is appropriate to the scenario (and, with a slightly more historically aware writing team, could have tracked actual medieval arguments over the necessity for individual consent to marriage), but the resolution seems flat and insufficiently connected to the personal problem of Merida and her mother's relationship. That is, Merida has to learn that she has social responsibilities and Queen Elinor has to learn that, without allowing for the freedom of the individual will, authority devolves into tyranny. (Note that she uses chess pieces to tell the story of the four princes.) They also have to remember that they love one another. The mother-turned-bear plot forces them to reevaluate how they see and treat each other, but bedoggoned if I can follow a line of logic that brings Queen Elinor to the realization that the younger generation should be permitted to choose their mates freely. It feels as if she does so merely because the plot requires her to. Sigh.
That said, I had a great deal of fun watching this film. Pixar's animation improves by leaps and bounds with each feature: the fishing trip to the river full of salmon had me gaping at how so many difficult elements (light, water, stones, fish, bear, human) came together in a single, gorgeous scene. The voice acting, as one might expect from such folks as Billy Connolly and Emma Thompson, was top-notch and Patrick Doyle's score was nicely hummable. I laughed at all the jokes and enjoyed the comedic action sequences (Merida's little brothers are a riot, when one shuts off the part of the brain engaged with problem one above) and was pleased to note that Merida's bow was not, in fact, portrayed as an effective close combat weapon. The climactic battle in the stone circle was also very nicely choreographed and its redemptive ending effective. (I love me a good redemption.) The post-credits scene is not only amusing, but ties up a dangling plot thread, which warms the cockles of my writerly soul.
Recommended with reservations. That it gives us a female empowerment tale that doesn't require a dead mother or evil stepmother to work is a plus; that it does so using gender stereotypes is a minus; that it's Pixar and therefore lovely to look at and reasonably clever with its storytelling is enough to satisfy me at the moment. Now that the ground has been broken, however, I expect better in future ...
I enjoyed this movie, but I have two problems with it that I need to get out of the way.
It's a joy to me to see an animated fairy-tale that focuses on the relationship between a mother and a daughter rather than a father and a son. That said, the context in which that relationship plays out is troubling, relying as it does on the gender clichés of "responsible woman"/"irresponsible man". The men in this film are portrayed as unable to properly police their own behavior; that's women's work. The scene in which Queen Elinor walks into a brawl in the great hall and immediately brings everyone to heel by her sheer (if dignified) presence is supposed to show her power, but it had me cringing. The idea that the work of controlling men's behavior falls to women because men can't do it themselves is pernicious -- people need to learn how to behave themselves. Plus, anyone who thinks this kind of control actually works outside the realm of fantasy hasn't read enough history: at best, the irresponsible behavior goes underground and spills over onto women coded as powerless (poor, unattached, lower class, sexually available ...). But Merida learns how to exert authority over a group of men twice her age by reminding them to act like adults, succeeding with a little help from her mother, and then sends them all off to get drunk. So, ugh.
The thematic center of this movie deals with another problem I find intriguing -- the relationship between individual freedom and social responsibility and how one balances the two. Although this balance is discussed through Merida's battles with her mother for control of her life, it's not presented as solely as a woman's problem, as one might expect (in an earlier era, she learn to accept her responsibilities; these days, she'd renounce her rank and ride off into the sunset with a lower-class male romantic lead). The story of the rebellious prince whose greed for power destroyed his kingdom makes it clear that this is an equal-opportunity conundrum, which, again, I like. Its specific form -- whether Merida should accept betrothal for the good of the kingdom -- is appropriate to the scenario (and, with a slightly more historically aware writing team, could have tracked actual medieval arguments over the necessity for individual consent to marriage), but the resolution seems flat and insufficiently connected to the personal problem of Merida and her mother's relationship. That is, Merida has to learn that she has social responsibilities and Queen Elinor has to learn that, without allowing for the freedom of the individual will, authority devolves into tyranny. (Note that she uses chess pieces to tell the story of the four princes.) They also have to remember that they love one another. The mother-turned-bear plot forces them to reevaluate how they see and treat each other, but bedoggoned if I can follow a line of logic that brings Queen Elinor to the realization that the younger generation should be permitted to choose their mates freely. It feels as if she does so merely because the plot requires her to. Sigh.
That said, I had a great deal of fun watching this film. Pixar's animation improves by leaps and bounds with each feature: the fishing trip to the river full of salmon had me gaping at how so many difficult elements (light, water, stones, fish, bear, human) came together in a single, gorgeous scene. The voice acting, as one might expect from such folks as Billy Connolly and Emma Thompson, was top-notch and Patrick Doyle's score was nicely hummable. I laughed at all the jokes and enjoyed the comedic action sequences (Merida's little brothers are a riot, when one shuts off the part of the brain engaged with problem one above) and was pleased to note that Merida's bow was not, in fact, portrayed as an effective close combat weapon. The climactic battle in the stone circle was also very nicely choreographed and its redemptive ending effective. (I love me a good redemption.) The post-credits scene is not only amusing, but ties up a dangling plot thread, which warms the cockles of my writerly soul.
Recommended with reservations. That it gives us a female empowerment tale that doesn't require a dead mother or evil stepmother to work is a plus; that it does so using gender stereotypes is a minus; that it's Pixar and therefore lovely to look at and reasonably clever with its storytelling is enough to satisfy me at the moment. Now that the ground has been broken, however, I expect better in future ...
