Things Disney Taught Me…

Oh the things Disney taught us:  the magic words to turn a pumpkin into a carriage, the circle of life, how to paint with all the colors of the wind.  It has also taught us some less than favorable lessons–that you must have no waist and skin the color of snow to be beautiful, to wait for your prince to come and rescue you, or that mothers may not be as vital a role in the progression of a young hero (Bambi, anyone?).

I owe the idea for this series of posts to my awesome significant other–who is awesome for many reasons, but in this instance specifically because he listens to me go on about the meaning of all things Disney and then contributes with appropriate gems such as this one:

Disney taught me that people with accents are evil.

It sounds really awful when put that way; a bit xenophobic of me.  But in reality, very few Disney films have the hero or heroine with a foreign accent–Aladdin and Jasmine are certainly not speaking with an Arabic accent, Belle and the Beast are not French, etc.  In contrast, a majority of the villains have accents or even just unrealistic voices–Scar is British, Radcliffe is British, the Siamese cats have Asian accents, and then there is Jafar, Ursula, and Bowler Hat Guy, among others, who have overly characterized voices–either high-pitched, too deep, etc. that are meant to sound foolish or wrong in comparison to the hero/heroine’s “normal” voice.

Now that is not to say there are not exceptions to this rule: Tiana, Prince Naveen, Basil and Dr. Dawson are a few leads who have an accent and while they each have their own flaws, they are clearly not the villain of the film.  And then there is Lumiere or Jock, supporting characters with thick accents.  I would therefore go a little further with the original statement:

Disney taught me that people with accents are not the hero/heroine, and therefore not the image of ideal masculinity or femininity that role is meant to reveal.

And a majority of the time, I think this would be the case.  Instead, characters with accents in Disney animated films tend to fall into one of three categories: we have the villains (Scar, Radcliffe, etc.) whose accents set them apart from the usually very American accents of the hero/heroine; we have comedic relief (Lumiere, Ray, Jock) whose accents are incredibly heavy to the point that they present more a caricature of that culture/nationality; and finally we have the unwanted–the characters who are neither good nor bad, but whose accents set them apart from the other characters–remember all those poor dogs in the pound in Lady and the Tramp?

A note before we go into the rest of the post: throughout this piece I will be saying that many of the characters without accents have “American” accents–I am well aware that Americans have accents even if we don’t always hear them as distinctly as we might unfamiliar accents, and varying accents at that.  There is not one “American” accent.  What I mean by this is that there is a very stereotypical non-accent, without the obvious influences of Jersey, the South, etc., and I believe is intended by Disney to sound universally “American.”  Again, that does not mean there are not nuances to the voice, but the typical identifiers in the differing American accents, I feel, are muted in what Disney uses as their “American” accent with many of their heroes/heroines.

Let’s start with the villains, as that is the most obvious and probably easiest one of the group to look at.  The whole point of a villain in a Disney film, or any film, is to present the audience with something or someone for whom they do not want to root.  They are the opposing force, the road that must not be taken, the sins that must not be committed.  True in some films the lines between hero and villain are blurred, but in Disney movies the lines tend to be pretty blatant.  In many ways, the villain is meant to make the hero/heroine look even better, or at least put into light what is the correct behavior.  Because the actions of the villain create pain, destruction, death, etc., the actions of the hero are validated all the more.  It is certainly a reason behind why so many of the Disney villains’ deaths are such celebrated events.

Disney villains typically follow a standard formula, something I will probably delve into on a later post, but for now let’s just go over the basics: female villains are given unfeminine attributes–deep voices, masculine facial features, etc.–while male villains are feminized or in the case of Gaston over-masculinized.  They become the exact opposite of what the hero/heroine is, or is aspiring to be, and what society expects of little girls or boys to become.  Beyond looks or mannerisms, the acts of the villains, as I said before, are typically unforgivable and certainly against what society deems as appropriate–Gaston will not take “no” for an answer, Scar murders his own brother, Lady Tremaine abuses Cinderella.

But with all the tools at their disposal to make a villain appear to be the wrong character for audiences to invest in, why does Disney resort to using accents to separate out their villains as well?  The simplest reason, I think, is because it easily distinguishes the hero/heroine for the audience.  Or at least, American audiences.  Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Aladdin, Prince Charming, the list goes on, all have distinctly American accents.  Subconsciously, the audiences relate to those characters who sound the most like them, similarly to how we subconsciously associate with the characters who look like us.  At the same time, audiences react to the foreign accent as just that–foreign, not an aide to the hero but more likely a deterrent.  Foreigners, and those sounding like such, are certainly not to be trusted.  We could go further with the British accent specifically, as a friend of mine pointed out, Americans have distanced themselves from that accent since the Revolution; conditioning ourselves to view that accent as villainous–soft, silky and not to be trusted.  Now I am not saying all Americans are like this, but I am saying that we have been conditioned to view a foreign accent with suspicion and that translates on the big screen to an accented villain.

Disney villains like Scar or Radcliffe only add fodder to this idea.  While both of them do resort to violence eventually, much of their villainy comes from their words.  They manipulate those around them who are vulnerable–Simba and Thomas (whole, while having somewhat of a British accent, is far less pronounced and noticeable as Radcliffe’s) are drawn in by their silver-tongued superiors and led astray.  Audiences watching associate with Simba and Thomas and, following the first betrayal, put up their guard anytime the villain opens his mouth.  Many of the villains who have pronounced accents rely on their words until the very last moment, preferring to manipulate the hero/heroine by that method instead of force; their primary weapon is their voice and their voice is made to be distinct and cause an instant reaction from audiences.  A reaction that stays with us after the credits role.

From the villains we go to the comic relief characters with accents.  I find it interesting that the same method Disney uses to make audiences instantly wary of the villain character is the same method used to make our comic relief characters relatable, quotable, and loved.  Lumiere, Ray, Jock, even Timon have very distinct accents.  And while it may be that some of the accents are simply more acceptable to society at the time, and therefore audiences, it is important to note these characters are not the hero/heroine of the film.

Lumiere is one of the most recognizably accented characters in Disney film’s, I think; partly because he is one of the only French sounding characters (including the French maid feather duster) in Beauty and the Beast and partly because of his big production number which, let’s face it, is one of the best Disney songs written.  In addition to his accent, Lumiere actually does speak French several times in the film, setting him apart from Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, even the Beast and Belle.  And yet for his good-hearted  scheming to help Belle and the Beast fall in love and break the spell, ultimately he is still comic relief.  His ongoing contest with Cogsworth provides many of the laughs of the film, and even serves to break the mood when it becomes too serious.  Moreover, he’s a bit of a Lothario — and yet never quite manages to get his girl.  The back and forth with the feather duster never comes to fruition, or at least that the audience sees; whether that ultimately would be marriage or even a kiss.  At the end of the film when he is about to go after her, Lumiere is prevented by Cogsworth which then turns into another comedic moment.  Unlike the hero who always gets the girl or the heroine who always lands the prince, Lumiere is not given that satisfaction.  He is not allowed to complete that road to masculinity like Beast does; he’s the side character, comic relief and nothing more.  Now many side characters who do not have accents also are not allowed to have their own road to happily ever after–that is a position typically reserved for the hero/heroine.  But I think that marking these characters, specifically Lumiere, with an accent pulls them even further from that road in an audiences eyes.  Of course the funny French candelabra would be continually chasing the girl, while the American Beast and Beauty dance to their happily ever after.  It reinforces the idea of who is the ideal male/female and who is allowed to have a happy ending.

Ray from the Princess and the Frog is a little different in that his accent is not foreign like Lumiere or Scar’s, but it is very heavy and distinct.  In the case of Ray we get a slightly different ending for our comic relief.  At the end of the film, Ray sacrifices himself to stall for time for Tiana, and as his ultimate reward he is shown as a star with his beautiful Evangeline at the conclusion of the film. Ray does, in a fashion, get his happily ever after.  It is primarily due to the fact that his actions enabled Tiana to defeat Dr. Facilier; his actions assisted in getting the heroine to her happily ever after (though I would say that Tiana does a far more active job of getting there herself, but that’s another topic altogether) and therefore he is rewarded with his ultimate wish.  That is all well and good, but for the bulk of the film Ray is still the comic relief, in a large part due to his overly hick accent.  Everything about Ray from his features to his way of speech is intended to invoke the idea of a hick from a tiny little town in the middle of the bayou.  His speech is slow and exaggerated, he believes that a star is actually another firefly, and there are times, to be honest, he is very difficult to understand.   Yes, he shows moments of great insight and he isn’t actually stupid, but everything from his accent to his mannerisms is meant to give that impression.  In addition, his accent is supposed to make us laugh, in the same way that the three hick hunters who try to catch the frogs are meant to.  And really between those two sets of characters what is the difference?  Both the hunters and Ray have the same accents, and some of the same type of features (their teeth, their altogether droopiness, etc.) so what differentiates them? Only that Ray is serving to help the heroine and hero achieve their goal, and the hunters serve as antagonists (albeit not very good ones).

In the end, despite the heartwarming ending for Ray, he remains at his core part of the comic relief of the film, in a large part due to his accent and speech.  It is highly stereotypical and invokes an immediate response from audiences, especially American audiences.  The stereotype is that people with that heavy of a southern accent could not possibly be smart, educated, or find their ultimate happily ever after.  And while Ray does prove them partially wrong, the stereotype sticks with him.  Many of these side characters with heavy accents, rather than being someone the audience begins to associate with, instead serve the sole purpose to provide a laugh.  And is that so much better than being a reviled villain?

Finally we have the unwanted characters.  This is more a vague group than the villains or comic relief.  These are the characters who may not be in the film much at all; they have one scene and are gone before audiences connect with them at all.  Or perhaps they are merely plot devices, used to push the hero/heroine to the next part of their journey, but are not invited to the happily ever after reunion at the end of the film.  The primary example of this type of character are the dogs in the pound in Lady and the Tramp.  The single scene these dogs are in probably serves as inspiration for every ASPCA commercial you’ve seen, down to the crying puppy.  But what makes this scene so distinct is not so much the fact that there are dogs in the pound at all, but which dogs are in the pound.  If you can find the clip, or have the film, fast forward to that part and just listen.  Up until this point we have had some different sounding characters–Trusty, Jock, the Siamese cats–but the group in the pound, the unwanted strays, have an incredible amalgamation of voices.  We have Russian, Mexican, British, and even a version or two of a street-Brooklyn accent.  It is interesting that each of these breeds and cultures are represented, but they are represented in the dogs who are unwanted by society: they, unlike Lady and eventually the stereotypical “American”-accented Tramp, are not given collars and license, they are not invited to the happily ever after at the end of the film, nor rescued from the pound by Tramp or anyone else.  These dogs are in jail, probably until the end of their lives, which may not be too much longer.  And yet once we leave the pound, those stories are unimportant.  The fate of these dogs does not matter in the scheme of the greater story, except to illustrate who is not desired in society and where we put them–whether it is a metaphorical prison or an actual one.

The accents are embellished for these characters–the Mexican Chihuahua mispronounces English words and then rattles off his sister’s incredibly stereotypical name, “Rosita Chiquita Juanita Chihuahua”; the Russian Borzoi speaks broken English, confusing simple grammar, to name a few instances.  Some of these moments are meant to be funny–take a look on YouTube under a video of the pound scene and you’ll see various comments about how funny it is that the Chihuahua pronounces “sister” as “seester.”  The accents in this section may serve a comedic purpose as well, but more importantly they distinctly mark which groups are not desired in society at the time this film was being produced–Mexican, Russian, British (again).  There are other details that serve to show how these are the undesirables–the stumbling dialogue of the bulldog character seems to be evidence of mental slowness that was easier, at the time, to push away than try to treat; Peg, with her movements and almost make-up like coloring on her face, seems almost like a prostitute.  Certainly she’s been around.  But the accents are front and center in this scene; they further serve to illustrate the difference between the heroine and these unwanted characters–Lady’s soft, sweet, perfect English is in stark contrast to the rest of the group.  Is it any wonder that she, with her license and voice, are quickly set free from the pound and returned home?  These are characters, and people, society did not want included, therefore they were put in the pound, out of sight and out of mind.  Even Tramp, who was one of them, clearly forgets about them by the end of the film.  He has been accepted into the licence society and therefore put out of mind those who have not.

Accents in Disney films are unavoidable.  Pick any of their animated films off your shelf and there is a character with an accent; just as society has many accent,s so do Disney films.  The difference is that Disney still does not well represent any of their accented characters.  They are either the villain, the comic relief, or unwanted by society.  Disney deliberately constructs these characters to not be in the position of the hero/heroine, and therefore not as the image of ideal masculinity or femininity which is exactly what the hero/heroine is meant to represent at the film’s conclusion.  They are supposed to be the example and, except for a few exceptions, they seem to be predominately without much of an accent.  Just as it is important to represent various body, skin, and personality types in films to audiences, especially young audiences, it is just as important to present cultural role models as well.  Why is there only one Frozen character with a Norwegian accent?  Why can’t a princess from a foreign land share that land’s accent?  Are they afraid that we will miss key lines of dialogue because of it?  If that were the case, they would not give the jokes to the characters with accents for fear of the audience missing them.  The world is a much more open community, and America itself is a melting pot of accents, races, and cultures.  Therefore, Disney needs to begin to represent those cultures better–rather than going for the easy laughs or villainizing accents because that is easy.

One other thought to leave you all with, something that came up while I was writing this post that I had never considered before: when these films are translated, as so many of them are, to different languages, what happens to those accents Disney relied on for the joke or to get a negative reaction toward a character?  Do they remain, or do the jokes simply stand on their own?  Is the villain considered such because of his/her words and deeds, rather than the accent in his/her voice?  And is it just as successful that way?  It would be interesting to discover, I think.  I’m not aware enough of how the translations work in film to speak about this yet, though I am aware that they may change the dialogue to get a similar reaction to the joke, which may not have been as translatable culturally.  But I think it would be a revealing study.  And it very well could be that when the film is translated to German, Japanese, Spanish, etc. that they use their own varying accents or ways of speech to do the same thing Disney does when it is in English.  Or, perhaps not.

Featured image from http://movies.disney.com/lady-and-the-tramp-gallery#image/52f5319f0a172d5ba800796a