How to Ruin a Fairy Tale

A storybook used in the 1937 film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs displayed at the D23 Presents Treasures of the Walt Disney Archives exhibit at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library in Simi Valley, Calif., in 2012. (Phil McCarten/Reuters)

The only positive thing to say about the recent remakes is that they are likely to inspire even greater interest in the original animated versions.

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Disney is on a streak of terrible remakes.

S now White is based on the fairy tale written by the Brothers Grimm in 1812. It tells the tale of a jealous queen who arranges the murder of a younger, more beautiful woman, Snow White. The queen asks that her heart be extracted as proof of death. But the assassin spares Snow White, presenting a pig’s heart instead, and instructing her to flee into the kingdom’s forest, where she befriends woodland creatures and seven dwarves.

Through a magic mirror, the queen discovers both Snow White’s well-being and whereabouts. Disguising herself as an old hag, the queen poisons her with an apple, inducing a deathlike coma that is reversible only by true love’s kiss. Fortunately, a handsome prince stops by, gives the unconscious Snow White a smooch, and she bounces back to life and her happily ever after.

Like all fairy tales, the story of Snow White communicates certain timeless moral messages: the destructiveness of vanity; the evil of envy; the virtues of kindness, gentleness, and hard work; the triumph of good over evil, love over hate. What it doesn’t communicate is our more modern priorities and sensibilities, such as defeating the patriarchy and being sensitive to minority groups.

These omissions appear to be what filmmakers seek to rectify in the new live-action remake of Snow White, coming to theaters next year. Rachel Zegler, who plays Snow White, said in a resurfaced interview from 2022 that Snow White is “not going to be saved by the prince and she’s not going to be dreaming about true love.” Rather, she’ll be “dreaming about becoming the leader she knows she can be and the leader that her late father told her that she could be if she was fearless, fair, brave, and true.”

The attempt to mix things up is also evident in the casting. Snow White is named thus on account of her “skin as white as snow.” Zegler, meanwhile, is tanned. This is sort of like having Little Red Riding Hood appear in a blue baseball cap or having a brunette play Goldilocks. And in service of what point, exactly?

The seven dwarves, meanwhile, have been reimagined as “magical creatures.” Disney explained that it consulted with members of the dwarfism community and wanted to “avoid reinforcing stereotypes from the original animated film.” This is one of those situations where you can’t win. Cast people with dwarfism as the seven dwarves and you’re stereotyping. Cast people of a normal height (then make them look shorter through CGI, as was done in Snow White and the Huntsmen in 2012), and you’re insulting those with the condition through appropriation. Alternatively, remove the focus from dwarfism entirely — as in this case — and you’re erasing the disability altogether. Better, then, to just stick with the seven dwarves, and cast the best actors for the roles.

The original Disney animated version of Snow White came out in 1937 and has been watched by generations of children ever since. What makes Disney movies endure is their timeless quality. They are imaginative and charming and speak to every age. Other than improvements in technology and the quality of animation and production, the stories don’t lend themselves to being “modernized.” Especially if what’s meant by modernization is shoehorning a progressive narrative where it doesn’t belong.

Besides, rather than try to force a square peg into a round hole, why not write an original script? Take Enchanted (2007). It tells the original story of a princess from a 2D fairy-tale animation who winds up in real-life New York City. The juxtaposition of her values and expectations with those of the people she meets in Manhattan is the source of much hilarity. Similarly, the Shrek series from the early 2000s also draws on fairy-tale stories — including Snow White and the magic mirror — as supporting characters to the main, original plotline.

Satirizing fairy-tale morality or subverting it for your own purposes, as in Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods, can be clever and funny. But these new remakes are insufferably dull, making only the most predictable political points.

As National Review’s Armond White wrote about The Little Mermaid remake, currently in theaters, “new tuneless songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda don’t disguise the project’s dull, Hamilton-based political correctness and race-baiting.” Similar things could be said of the 2017 remake of Beauty and the Beast, starring Emma Watson (who cannot sing and can barely act), which stripped the original animation of all its intensity and charm. There are more examples — Peter Pan, which, upon remake, became Peter Pan & Wendy, and all about female empowerment.

It seems Disney is on a streak of terrible remakes. The only positive thing that can be said about them is that they are likely to inspire even greater interest in the original animated versions.

Madeleine Kearns is a staff writer at National Review and a visiting fellow at the Independent Women’s Forum.
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