Last week, I hauled myself to the movie theater for the chaotically underwhelming experience of Disney’s live action “Snow White.” Ever since their 2015 “Cinderella,” I had lost hope for the company’s live action remakes — 2014’s “Maleficent,” not included. However, I decided to bring a friend who had not yet lost faith in Disney magic to keep me open-minded. Unfortunately, we both left the theater silently shaking our heads and wondering how this film went so horribly wrong. For me, there was one looming question: Where has the magic of Disney gone?
From the freaky “Polar Express” -like CGI rendering of the seven dwarves to the Evil Queen’s flip-sequin-esque outfit, “Snow White” was a catastrophic waste of a $240 million budget. Initially, the film seemed to reimagine a classic tale, as Snow White (Rachel Zegler, “Y2K”) takes on a more active role in her kingdom’s salvation. She decides she wants to fight for her kingdom after meeting her romantic interest, Jonathan (Andrew Burnap, “The Front Room”), and hearing of all his brave adventures. In the original, a much less-dynamic, nameless prince plays this role, and neither he nor Snow White fight for anything beside each other. However, the new direction of the remake, placing Snow White as the hero, is not long-lived, as she soon dies via poison apple, rendering her useless.
At the end of the original, the dwarves save the day, pushing the Evil Queen off a cliff in a dramatic moment of triumph. Combining the energy of this moment with the remake’s new plotline could have resulted in a monumental finale. Defeating the Evil Queen could have had captivating action, and it would have been a great, powerful feat by Snow White herself. Instead, when she finally wakes up, Snow White walks into the village, singing, and convinces the castle guards to join her side. Turns out, it doesn’t take a miracle to defeat an evil villain, just a soprano.
Yet my greatest axe to grind with the new “Snow White” is the startling disconnection between fantasy and reality. Many of the visuals in this so-called “live action” film were not only enhanced, but created by CGI, including the seven most crucial characters. Disney opted for facial scanning and molded puppets, two incredibly complicated techniques, instead of hiring real actors. Worse, against the exaggerated CGI forest, where everything shines with an obnoxious computer-generated glow, the dwarves displace Snow White in her own film. Their overtly artificial appearances highlight the realness of everything around them. This is not to mention the cast of actors wearing outfits that look like they came from Party City.
Everything about “Snow White” feels disingenuous and insulting to the movies that laid the path for fairy tales’ transition into the world of film. It’s odd that Disney is trying to make films more realistic through live action when they originally relied on the power of fiction. Through these films, Disney is seemingly attempting to bridge the gap between far-off kingdoms and planet Earth. After seeing “Snow White” go so wrong, I cannot help but think of a time when fairy tales felt immersive not because of their actors, but because of their animators.
In 1937, “Snow White” revolutionized Hollywood as the first feature film to be successfully produced with hand-drawn cel animation. In the 1930s, Walt Disney rivaled creators such as the Fleischer brothers, who focused on animated short films, and even produced a seven-minute “Snow White” in 1933, as a part of their Betty Boop series. At this time, Hollywood treated animated films as short, frivolous pieces of entertainment, breaks from the important live-action films gracing theaters. Companies, like Paramount Pictures, which employed the Fleischers, produced these shorts at a lower quality, with less attention to detail. Walt, however, thought it was about time animation was taken seriously. He saw the impact of quality artists and art, and had the ability to draw in communities to the theater experience.
With the power of hyper-defined detail, Walt took animation to the next level: a full-length film. During a three-year production, dedicated animators drew onto small cells, which in turn, sequenced together to tell a story of a royal princess, a family of dwarves and an evil queen. When audiences watched this film, they felt transported to the make-believe lands of the fairy tales they loved. They felt that the soft, gentle aesthetic of the film encapsulated the charm, and mystique, of these folklorish stories. Soon, the 1937 “Snow White” became the highest-grossing film of its time, cementing Walt Disney’s legacy in the field of animation by flushing out all the competitors who did not share his appreciation for refined artistry.
What started as a miracle production soon became the norm for Disney, as the company set new standards for animated films. Disney’s originally small team from 1929 shot up to over 600 staff members by the 1940s as Disney’s productions became more elaborate, more expensive and much more successful. Disney continued to grow in the following decades, and during this glorious, animated time, most films were a hit. From the adventurous 1940 “Fantasia” to the iconic 1989 princess story “The Little Mermaid,” every film followed Walt Disney’s commitment to quality art, where no project was rushed.
The impact of Disney’s films extended beyond Walt’s career. When Disney-MGM Studios opened in 1989, the company highlighted the animators making their films possible. The Magic of Disney Animation exhibit allowed visitors to observe animators at work through a glass wall in the park. Audiences were reportedly fascinated by these artists at work — sketching, collaborating and bringing Disney magic to life. This was a time when the company put their animators front and center, knowing that their art showcased purpose, detail and dedication. Audiences knew that when they were watching a Disney film, it was no cheap production, not only financially but also artistically. Unfortunately, the park eventually shut this aspect of the exhibit down in 2004, symbolizing a major shift not just in the company’s animation, but in their artistry.
By the 2000s, Disney was trying to leave hand-drawn films in the past. They had intended for the 1991 “Beauty and the Beast” to be their final 2D-animated film but audience backlash led them to release two more: 2009’s “The Princess and the Frog” and 2011’s “Winnie the Pooh.” These releases, however, marked the final end to their hand-drawn era as Disney decided to move full force ahead with 3D-animated films, including live-action remakes. The success of “Tangled” and “Frozen” solidified this decision, and the company hoped that hand-drawn methods would soon be forgotten. During this switch of animation methods, John Lasseter, film director and former chief creative officer of Pixar, discussed how Disney’s hand-drawn films were an “excuse for poor storytelling.” Ironically, what Lasseter and the company likely did not foresee was how their new era of Disney films would eventually become an excuse for poor filmmaking.
As perhaps one of the last loyal fans of classic Disney movies, I still long to be charmed by a modern Disney film the way I am by the 1937 “Snow White.” I have wondered whether I’m trapped in a cage of my own nostalgia — a nostalgia for a time when life was youthful and simpler. Yet, I can’t deny that something provocative lies behind the screen of a hand-drawn film. Each detailed, vibrant shot evokes such peacefulness and whimsy; there is no other way to describe its craft than to call it beautifully human. Alongside the presence of princesses and fairies, there is a hidden character leading the narrative of these films: the artist. Hand-drawn films allow audiences to engage directly with artists. The awareness that the images are physically drawn makes the transference of art feel much more powerful. Like a painting, hand-drawn animated films invite us to see not only the finished product but also the process — every frame, every brush stroke. Whether it was through a speaker, writer or filmmaker, receiving a story directly from an artist has always been what makes us treasure them.
When I watch a new Disney film, I feel the artist is no longer present. While I don’t doubt that someone is behind the screen, I don’t feel that same exchange from artists to audiences that has fueled storytelling for centuries. It leads me to wonder, is there anyone on the other side of the screen who believes in the story they are telling? Or is it a table of profit-driven executives, wondering how the digital revolution can lead them to maximum profit?
Worse, when I saw the live-action remakes of Disney’s original films, I felt that the artist had left the screen and the whole set altogether. Nearly a decade after hand-drawn animation left Disney, the company decided to bring their classic stories back to life as live-action disasters. Since many of Disney’s originals have outdated and offensive stories, the company may have decided that both its style and content needed a drastic change as well — live-action seeming to be the answer.
Yet somewhere amid the alarmingly quick production of these live-action films, Disney forgot what made their films magical in the first place, and audiences can attest. With the announcement of each remake, fans were always quick to skepticism, questioning if the remakes could live up to the films they knew and loved. Some proved more successful than others, especially earlier adaptations such as 2015’s “Cinderella.” But as more films were mass-produced, audiences grew increasingly critical of their messiness. When “Snow White” came out, it was an even greater failure than expected. Amassing a mere $43 million box office upon release, less than a sixth of its production budget, audiences were quick to slam the film. Worst of all, the controversies surrounding the cast became the film’s biggest headline. All this highlights that when actors are brought onto projects like these, ones that are supposed to be an escape from reality, they inherently taint the narrative, making it difficult for audiences to separate the characters they love from the actors they hate.
“Snow White” is more than an example of a bad remake; it symbolizes the artistry that once defined Disney having since been lost in the wreck of live-action remakes. Now, it has recently been reported that Disney has halted their production on the live-action remake of “Tangled.” Considering that “Tangled” was animated with CGI only fifteen years ago, it goes to show how Disney’s philosophy of prioritizing profit over artistry is starting to fail.
When my fairy godmother shows up, I will wish for more hand-drawn animation, as it grants a film more escapism than any live-action could. The magic of the movies is the power of art, the kind that sticks with its viewers. I know I am not alone in this wish, as I belong to a generation that seems to live in a haze of nostalgia, longing for a time when fairy tales were actually magical.
Daily Arts Writer Abigail Weinberg can be reached at weinab@umich.edu.
