belle raiser
Disney’s old tale shines in a reverential revamp…
Until now, Disney’s live-action remakes of its cherished animated movies have preferred to tackle earlier ’toons – 1950’s Cinderella, 1959’s Sleeping Beauty and 1967’s The Jungle Book. Beauty And The Beast (1991), though, is a mere 26 years old. Too soon?
Two things are obvious from seeing original and remake together (available either in a double-pack or simply on their own). One is that the 1991 version has always been a classic, regardless of its actual age. The other is that audiences don’t care how long it’s been. Bill Condon’s movie is not only 2017’s biggest hit, but already on the cusp of the all-time top 10 at the global box office, proof that Disney’s formula for its back catalogue shows no signs of stalling.
It’s arguably Beauty And The Beast’s relative youth that explains the remake’s success. More than the previous nu-Disney films, the 1991 film is a rite of passage for Millennials. A live-action take was always likely to become a must-see, provided they got it right, so Condon’s film is a careful act of reverence. Not merely because of Emma Watson’s presence, it evokes the Harry Potter films in the way that everything is adroitly matched to the original to keep the fanbase on board.
Yes, there are new songs and occasional shifts in emphasis, but it’s the fidelity to BATB 1991 that remains most striking. In truth, Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise’s animation in the earlier film was already halfway towards the textures of live-action. That makes it relatively straightforward for Condon to replicate the ’toon’s look and feel: its elegant travelling shots, the impressive use of shadows, or the surprisingly robust action sequence at the climax. Likewise, the cast are guided to mimic the vocal inflections and facial gestures of their animated avatars. Luke Evans, especially, is an uncanny doppelgänger for the 2D Gaston.
something there
Condon is a smart choice for director, here. He has form with fantasy
(the Frankenstein-themed Gods And Monsters) and musicals (Dreamgirls), and he worked on the Twilight Saga, another franchise subject to a tonal risk
assessment before anybody yells action. While he’s undoubtedly a safe pair of hands, he’s not afraid to stamp a degree of freshness on to the material. The most radical thing here – at least, according to the nations who censored or banned the movie – is the outing of LeFou as a gay man in love with Gaston. Really, it’s a minor detail (and hardly progressive given Josh Gad’s camp performance) but it allows a sliver of realism into the story. Alongside a backstory for Belle involving the awful effects of plague, and a mention of Shakespeare, it places the story in a recognisable world.
If that risks reducing the surrealism and subtext of this most Freudian of fairytales, it helps Condon make the film relevant to the audience of 2017. There’s a marked upswing in the depiction of Belle as a feminist. Already no slouch in 1991, here she gets a fiery independence. Together with the gallantry of Dan Stevens’ Beast, it further codifies the chaste, post-Aids connotations of the animated version’s romance. No longer is the Beast a symbol of animal passion but a hirsute, hipster metrosexual, and a far better catch than Gaston, the entitled jock.
Just a LittLe change
Ultimately, however impressive the execution, Condon’s version is a fan film. Its main achievement is to renew the animated version’s already glittering rep. There’s little surprise that Disney in 2017 can nail this, but it was a different story in 1991, when the studio was emerging from a period of creative unrest. Made with palpable care and craft, Disney’s original deserved its place in history as the first animated feature to be nominated for Best Picture, raising the stakes for Hollywood animation. Ironically, in paving the way for Pixar, it sounded the death knell for 2D animation.
Yet that makes BATB 1991 even more special – the bridge between Golden Age classicism and modern animation’s thrilling sophistication.
That Condon has changed so little is a testament to the choices made by Trousdale and Kirk, whose Disneyfication of the material remains unusually nuanced and sensitive. The biggest visual influence is surrealist auteur Jean Cocteau’s 1946 version of the story, La Belle Et La Bête – not the typical reference point for Disney. In a crucial change of emphasis to the source material and earlier adaptations, the Beast voluntarily lets Belle go without demanding her return, giving greater clarity to the character’s arc.
Best of all, inverting Disney’s penchant for cute creatures, here the animals stay mute while the household staff become a menagerie of talking pots and pans. Mrs. Potts and Lumière are so indelible a part of the story that it’s worth remembering they were invented for the 1991 film.
In the remake, they’re go-to roles for A-listers Emma Thompson and Ewan McGregor. No wonder: who wouldn’t want to sing ‘Beauty And The Beast’ and ‘Be Our Guest’? Whichever version of the film you watch, there isn’t a combo of sweet ’n’ silly to rival it in the entire Disney songbook. Simon Kinnear
‘no slouch in 1991, belle now gets a fiery independence’