One of the most important things I've learned since starting this blog over a year ago is that Disney aren't always evil. Well, their films aren't always evil, in any case - I'm reserving judgement as to the company itself. Whilst watching and writing, I've been quietly charmed by the likes of Wreck-It Ralph, Big Hero 6, Into the Woods and The Sorcerer's Apprentice - heck, in some cases I was quite vocally charmed, even.
One of my first thoughts when planning this month's viewing, therefore, was that I wanted to return to Enchanted. Granted, I loathed it on first viewing, but part of the joy of writing this thing is going back to films I haven't enjoyed and finding I was wrong. With my anti-Disney bias weakened, I figured now would be a really good time to revisit a film that an awful lot of people really liked.
Enchanted was meant to be Disney's attempt at gentle self-parody, starring Amy Adams as the all-singing, all-sewing, hyper-girlified princess-in-training Giselle, brought through from the animated land of Andalasia to modern-day New York on the day she's supposed to be marrying a prince (James Marsden) she's known for only one day.
Baffled and distressed, she's brought home by a hard-bitten and newly-engaged divorce lawyer (Patrick Dempsey) at the insistence of his daughter, and soon begins bringing magic into their lives even as they inject a little urban reality into hers. Meanwhile, the Prince and his evil stepmother, queen Narissa (Susan Sarandon) have also travelled across from Andalasia to try and find her, albeit with two very different ends in mind.
The concept itself is cute - Disney have long been accused of promoting poor female role models, and of creating characters that are two-dimensional in every sense. In some ways, Enchanted was crying out to be made, if only so the corporation could show at least a modicum of self-awareness. It could have worked - heck, with casting like that it really should have.
The first time I saw the movie, however, I was so intensely irritated by Giselle, the Prince and the walking clichés who surrounded them I could hardly make it through to the end. And, well, unfortunately, my second viewing experience was much the same. It baffles me, because Amy Adams is a talented performer with a bravery and sweetness that raises the tone of almost everything I've ever seen her in. Put her in something that's already cheerful and family-friendly, though, like this or the recent Muppet movie, and she's just way too much, all eyes and teeth and the sort of weapons-grade niceness that you can't help thinking must mask a black belt in passive aggression. Here, perhaps, it's meant to be parodic, or at least a pastiche, but there can be no doubting that audience sympathies are meant to remain firmly on Giselle's side.
As the Prince, meanwhile, we have James Marsden, no slouch himself on the eyes and teeth front. I've enjoyed his work before, once, in the recent Hairspray remake, where he played a smarmy TV presenter, but I find it hard to recall seeing him in any other setting without cringing. Granted, he raised a smile or two towards the end of the film, as the pace slowed and my red mist began to dissipate, and granted, the role was a thankless one, but did he really have to enjoy himself so much?
Quality performers Timothy Spall and Susan Sarandon, meanwhile, were hopelessly hobbled, in the former case by a variety of slightly politically incorrect accents and disguises, and in the latter, by next to no screen time. The wicked queen is supposed to be our main antagonist, but by the time she finally begins to make her presence felt we've only got about fifteen minutes left to go. She's a bloodless villain, too, never radiating the necessary sense of menace.
In the end, I think Enchanted falls prey to the very pitfalls it tries to parody: namely, it's all flash and sparkles, with nary a thought in its pretty, sweet-natured little head. By the end of the film, we don't know any more about Giselle than we did at the beginning, and love interest Robert is just another dark-haired stranger, albeit one with a small daughter and a low-grade cynical streak. Giselle does, inevitably, bring magic into the lives of those around her, and the climactic scene takes place at a charity ball. Question, by the way: do they send out moves lists for the dances beforehand or have rehearsals or something, and if not, why is every dancer perfectly synchronised, including, for that matter, those who come from entirely different universes?
I don't even think Enchanted is a noble failure - to be honest, I think it's as cynical a piece of marketing as I've seen in a while. Leaving aside the heavy product placement and the constant callbacks to other Disney movies, it still peddles the usual pernicious bullshit about real women spending their lives cooking, sewing and singing, all with a smile on their face and a waistline smaller than their neck circumference. Little girls don't need this in their lives, and their mothers certainly bloody don't.
...If you're looking for a role model for your small daughter, however, you could do a lot worse than Summer Hathaway, from Richard Linklater's excellent School of Rock, which I watched yesterday afternoon to wash the Enchanted out of my mouth. Granted, Ms. Hathaway, were she real, would likely be in training right now to be either leader of the Republican party or dictator of a small South American republic, but at least she emphatically cannot sing.
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