Directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise
Written by Linda Woolverton
There is an inexorable, inexplicable quality about some great movies, as there is about great art in general. Sometimes, yes, we can pinpoint exactly what makes a movie work so well, why it becomes one of our favorites, why it wins awards, why critics love it, or why it makes millions of dollars at the box office. The script is insightful, the direction is incredible, the visuals are eye-popping, the performances are immense powerhouses of talent. These are easy ways to calculate what makes a movie work, but sometimes, we see a movie and we just like it. Sometimes, you can’t put your finger on one element about a movie that burrows itself under your skin, but you love it all the same.
Now, don’t get me wrong: Beauty and the Beast has a lot of clearly standout aspects to it, but I don’t know that I can tell you why I admire it more than I admire most other Disney movies. I’m not ready to say it’s my favorite Disney movie of all time—and keep in mind, I am not including Pixar films in this mix, because that’s an entirely different list—because I’m more than partial to Pinocchio. But the more I think about Beauty and the Beast as well as other movies that came out during this so-called Disney Renaissance period, the more I realize that it’s thanks to movies like this that are making me so invested in the podcast.
I don’t mean to present some bias against movies from the 1930s and 1940s by saying this, but the level of entertainment and enjoyment I get out of Fantasia, Snow
Is that heretical to say? I’d say the same of some older live-action films, that I admire them but I don’t share the love for them. The visceral pleasures of Pinocchio make it one of my favorites, but it’s not just that Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a princess movie, it’s that I find the storytelling to be far less impressive than that of future Disney movies. “Future Disney movies” means, by the by, movies from the era when Walt Disney himself was still instrumental in making the movies he produced, as opposed to just being something of a cinematic figurehead. There’s no question that watching these films is like watching works of art, literal works of art. The skill that goes into bringing Snow White, Cinderella, Peter Pan, and others to life is staggering even now. The skill that goes into the stories of those movies is, I think, a bit lacking.
But it’s compelling to consider how badly this movie could’ve turned out. The Blu-ray of the film, which I highly recommend, includes an alternate 18-minute opening from before Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise were attached to direct the film. Only a couple of years before everyone around the world fell in love with Beauty and the Beast, it was set to be directed by Richard Purdum, protégé of Richard Williams, who was the animation director for Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Purdum’s version of Beauty and the Beast shares many similarities with the version we have now, but it’s also wildly different. What’s truly fascinating is watching the creative process at work in both versions.
Beauty and the Beast is, of course, set in France, but the animation looks so starkly opposite in the junked version versus what we have now. Imagine what would have happened had the village Belle and her father, Maurice, lived in was still part of the Gallic countryside, but was populated not by rustic villagers but by lots and lots of fops. Yes, you read that right. Powdered wigs, lots of fancy makeup, corsets, the whole get-up. That could’ve been what each person in Beauty and the Beast looked like. What’s more, in the original version, Maurice seems less kindly simply for being younger and not seeming like a kooky old grandfather. And, the enchanted servants sing “Be Our Guest” to him, not to Belle. This is just one of many examples of why starting from scratch isn’t always a bad thing. Just think about how many times we read these days about production troubles for this or that live-action movie. People always assume the worst when they read such stories, and being fair, with live-action filmmaking, production troubles don’t bode well.
But animation, somehow, gets a pass from us. Now, part of this is thanks to the media not covering the ins and outs of an animated film’s production as they do for live-action films. I realize, of course, that Beauty and the Beast came out well before websites like Deadline Hollywood Daily became the norm for entertainment journalism, rifling through each movie’s daily garbage for some kind of morsel, and before other, legitimate publications aped Nikki Finke’s style of writing and content. But still, it’s always been very popular for Hollywood-based journalists to cover, with some glee, the foibles and follies of movie productions. So why not focus on stories like Beauty and the Beast having its original version scrapped and replacing directors? If that happened in live-action movies, we’d hear no end of it.
If there is a chief reason for this film’s creative success, it’s that. By not focusing only on one half of the blooming love between Belle and the Beast, Trousdale, Wise, screenwriter Linda Woolverton, and the Disney animators take a massive step in the right direction. Although other later Disney films, such as Aladdin and Hercules, would attempt to give equal time to both sides, it’s awfully hard to do that when your movie’s title focuses squarely on one person. I’m not saying that those movies need to be called Aladdin and Jasmine, or Hercules and Megara. No, that would be incredibly silly, but the Disney team has to know that by titling the movie after one character, it means I’m going to focus on that one character. (The discussion over how weak the storytelling is in Aladdin by making the Genie the most interesting character is one for another day.) Beauty and the Beast may make us focus first on Belle, but our interest in both characters is equal.
Of course, there are plenty of elements in this movie about which I could rave. The easy one, and the most appropriate, is the music and songs from Alan Menken and Howard Ashman. Ashman passed
Beauty and the Beast is one of the all-time classics for Walt Disney Pictures. It should come as no surprise that Disney himself tried to make an animated version of the film in the 1940s, but chose not to either because he couldn’t crack the story or because French filmmaker Jean Cocteau got there before he did, at least in terms of creating an iconic version of the fairy tale. 45 years after Cocteau’s vision of the story was released, the geniuses at Walt Disney Feature Animation were able to make the namesake of their company proud with a rousing, moving, and thoroughly entertaining movie that best encapsulates the old saw: “Isn’t it a shame that they don’t make movies like that anymore?”
– Josh Spiegel