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| The Little Mermaid film poster. |
When I was a child, I snuck off in the bathroom and cut off the brilliant red hair of my little sister’s Ariel, a cruel act of revenge. Our dolls were mainly generic and her Ariel was the most famous, a mermaid with her own Disney film, the best of the story tapes we repeatedly played on the cassette tape player (for our household had no VHS’s). Thus, immediately after I saw the new live-action on a Wednesday afternoon, I reread Hans Christian Anderson’s original classic immediately on the bus ride, anxious to perhaps rid myself of the startling disappointments. I imagined Anderson’s darker tale depicted on the big screen— the girl awaiting her turn to see the above world like her sisters, her painful dancing bargain exchange, her sisters also giving up their valued hair to the sea witch, and the final plea to kill the prince just so the girl could return to the sea— so much fascinating horror all for the sake of harrowing desire.
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| Ariel (Halle Bailey) under a seemingly waterless sea. DP: Dion Beebe. |
In Rob Marshall’s Disney adaptation (the same director of Chicago and Memoirs of a Geisha, shot by Oscar winning cinematographer Dion Beebe), Halle Bailey leads an otherwise poorly made ode to the 1989 animated film— which had the audacity to open with an Anderson quote. Bailey’s take on Ariel is the most convincing of the new cast, a young mermaid naturally curious about the entirety of the world, a collector of unique objects despite learning their meanings from the wrong sort of creature— and with a voice that carries resplendent notes through and through. Of course, anyone would want to capture that lilting sound and make it their own. Innocence, charm, and sweetness are very irresistible character traits and her gorgeous honey brown locs are a unique signifying force. Ariel is unfortunately bogged down by her main screen partners: the terribly designed Flounder and Sebastian (not a lobster, instead a googly eyed crab that must have escaped a parallel universe of Everything, Everywhere All At Once). Also, Scuttle is downright garbage.
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| Flounder: sometimes you gotta smile to keep from crying and/or cringing. |
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| Sebastian: horrifying. |
The sisters, however, were mere cameos— introduced by King Triton himself on high throne chairs in a lackluster scene that looks suspended in an outdated Windows backdrop. The animated version had the hyped girls singing “we are the daughters of Triton” during a lavish, heavily attended party. Here, the ladies representing each of the seven seas sit quietly, looking at their father as decorative objects more so than women with differing personalities. Where is the joy in the sea life? The thrills? The other merpeople? You would think that a two plus hour runtime would grant them a say, but then we wouldn’t have gotten Prince Eric or Scuttle’s awful songs. Also, King Triton shows obvious favoritism (and possessiveness) in regards to Ariel— this happens a lot in family structures, the youngest often being the apple of the parent’s eye. Yet, King Triton’s overbearing nature always seems a bit too… trifling?
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| Ariel belts out an incredible Part of Your World reprise after saving Prince Eric from drowning. DP: Dion Beebe. |
Apparently the sea is dull and the strict rules equals no fun. Anyone would want to escape. Plus, honestly, the above the surface shots are far more believable than the watery depths below. Ariel should be applauded for leaving such dreariness behind in order to obtain the feet that don’t hurt her. Her spellbound wonder for the majestic fireworks (probably most of the film budget) and even petting the shaggy Max are lovely touches of her affectionate nature. Despite mermaids being forbidden to interact with humans, Ariel’s longing to understand them (more importantly Prince Eric) is a universal belief akin to those of us who have a specific desire in life. Ariel’s private grotto mirrors an art collector’s trove later seen in Prince Eric’s library, even Ursula’s realm. Again, King Triton’s treasures are his daughters with one most preferred.
We don’t talk enough about King Triton’s abuse— him destroying Ariel’s organized hoarding piece by piece would encourage even the kindest daughter to never return to someone that cruel.
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| Ursula entices her niece (eye roll) with an offer she cannot refuse. DP: Dion Beebe. |
As Melissa McCarthy’s Ursula did her best nod to the late Pat Carroll, Queen Latifah came to mind, especially Marshall having directed that splendid Mama’s Been Good To You number in Chicago (that should have gotten her the Oscar win). Awful choice to make Ursula and King Triton siblings. Why even? Worse, Ursula puts an amnesia spell on Ariel— so the poor girl doesn’t remember that Prince Eric must kiss her by the third day.
Jude Akuwudike of the incredible Eyimofe (This Is My Desire) cameos as the fisherman who finds the newly limb-ed Ariel in his net and takes her to the palace at once. There, she sees Prince Eric again and they share an intense eye exchange, but he’s convinced that she is not his savior. Later, a downtrodden Ariel takes a bath— in more pretty scenes that demonstrate the look and feel of water. Sebastian arrives in her window, determined to help her fall in love, possibly feeling guilty for King Triton’s severe punishment, then again this isn’t conveyed quite clearly. A charmed Ariel wanders about the castle, well adjusted to walking and racing about on her new legs. For that, a viewer is easily swayed by her happiness and enthrallment, her captivation of human nature. The best moments are contained in Ariel’s delight— played beautifully by Bailey.
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| Ariel looks around Prince Eric’s majestic library. DP: Dion Beebe. |
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| While the other princesses have their men reflect them, for specifically Black and biracial women, Disney has a history of not finding them a Black Prince. This began in its 2009 animated adaption of Princess and the Frog. They’re still not ready to depict the soft Black boys/men that Barry Jenkins and Ryan Coogler bring to life. |
Ever since reading a review calling Prince Eric a Himbro and looking up the meaning, it cannot be un-remembered. They tried to make Prince Eric a worldly, adventurous sort in a time of colonialism, but he really represents the same regurgitated formula as the other white Disney princes— blue eyed measure of attractiveness, desired rebelliousness from a privileged status, and little else. Well, Ariel if this is whom you want to flip your fins for, have at it. Interesting too, on this Caribbean influenced island that a Black Queen chooses to adopt a white child, seemingly the only baby ever to be put in this vulnerable position, the only to melt the queen’s heart. Okay.
Ursula sees that Prince Eric is actually falling for the quiet, intelligent Ariel and ups the ante by disguising herself as the young slim Vanessa. They treat us to a godawful rap song as Scuttle’s dumb way of congratulating Ariel who sadly learns Maury Povich style that she is not the intended bride. Instead of a sunset wedding sailing away on a boat, Prince Eric has an engagement party overlooking the majestic sea. Scuttle again delivers news to Ariel sans that amazing line “she was singing with a set of stolen pipes.” Afterwards, fighting, shock, fighting, sacrifice, and finale fighting. The change to the victory may be a testament to Ariel not representing a damsel-in-distress, but man, Strong Black Woman trope came to sea us.
Other notes: always found it an intriguing matter that in both the animated and live version, the mermaids understand and can speak English, but cannot write— which could have saved Ariel a lot of trouble. Anderson’s story is stronger because you do get the sense that the mermaid’s only language for the Prince is dancing. When King Triton returns to solid form after Ursula’s demise, the impact loses something because it is only him. None of the other poor unfortunate souls come back to fruition. Why did King Triton not give Ariel a new glittering outfit upon realization that the sea is no longer her heart’s desire? That blue dress was just overused. After Prince Eric threw it in the sea, never wanted to see it again. Definitely not Colleen Atwood’s best designs. The ending also really, really needed that Pride rainbow. Otherwise why quote Hans Christian Anderson if you’re not going to utilize the full scope of this metaphorical fairy tale masquerading his queer identity?
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| Prince Eric’s adopted mom the Queen is played by Noma Dumezweni aka the Black Hermoine in Broadway who is no stranger to the “Black girl taking the role of white girl” controversy. |
Furthermore, color blind casting cannot truly succeed if most of the speaking characters are white. The nonwhite people/merfolk exist as though they were props collected in Ariel’s burnt down grotto. Yes, The Little Mermaid broadcasts the star potential in Halle Bailey and a small testament to Laurence Olivier winner Noma Dumezweni’s steadily growing legacy. Yet, they feel secondary to an all-white realm even with its pockets of brown and Black figures sprinkled about. At the same time, the film gives us nothing memorable for Sienna King, Simone Ashley, and the other mermaid sisters. Those are who I showed up for— those who now have dolls in the stores— dolls that were not there in the 1990’s. It remains a lesson that just because women of color are featured in big budget vehicles doesn’t necessarily mean a promotional win regardless if minorities work behind-the-scenes. Blockbusters can mesh the explosive thrills with indie vibe storytelling— Everything Everywhere All At Once, Black Panther, Get Out. Disney, however, set in the past, remakes their old films and believes that making a Black women lead a farce excuses their years of ignoring us. So, she must endure a decent screenplay with low quality CGI and music from Lin Manuel Miranda’s EGOT thirsty pen. Bailey is an excellent singer and a brilliant songwriter (listen to Chloe X Halle) with no credits to what could be awards frontrunners, especially enjoyed her inner thoughts expressed as a mental song. Like Ursula, Miranda may be finally taking home the prize due to Bailey’s gifted voice.
Although The Little Mermaid situates in the murky limbo between failure and triumph and is obviously not meant for someone like me, the children and Disney loving adults alike will cherish the film and truly enjoy Bailey’s multifaceted performance. Can’t wait to see her again— in an original film where she could write the music.
Until then, I will probably reread Anderson’s story and write my own dark fairytale. Perhaps maybe centering why I cut my sister’s doll’s hair to a rather fetching shoulder length bob.
