Just got back from seeing The Princess and the Frog with Matilda. I don't think I can even say anything about it yet; I'm just all hand-flappy swoony squee. I want to see it about eleventy-million more times. SWOON.

It got a bad review in our local weekly. I'd love to hear a positive reaction though because I was very excited to see it.

I've heard that it's a very good movie in classic Disney 2-D animated form....

Here's the review. The reviewer seems mostly irritated that it didn't focus or address racial relations enough. [link]

Is she even close to that hot in the flesh?

She looks much the same, though she is pretty short, which surprised me. I thought of her as tall and lanky, but she is short and lanky. Weird. Dressed just like Shane and with Shane hair, too.

She moves like she takes up a lot of space, I think.

Princess and Frog

So many posters on my adoption lists are furious that the first black female lead in a Disney animation spends most of the film as a frog. There was something else that bugged them, but now I can't recall. I am not sure mac wants to see it, he seems to flip-flop on it, he can;t decide if it is too much of a girls' movie.

OTOH he say Fantastic Mr. Fox with his uncle and liked it. Uncle loved it.

There was something else that bugged them, but now I can't recall.

The Prince isn't black?

So many posters on my adoption lists are furious that the first black female lead in a Disney animation spends most of the film as a frog.

I've wondered about that as well. It doesn't seem right.

My sister saw it and said it wasn't worth the $12.50 she spent. She didn't hate it, but she said the music was blah (why you would hire Randy Newman to write music for a film set in NOLA is kind of beyond me) and the racial stuff is typically Disney-problematic.

Fantastic Mr Fox, OTOH, was wonderful. So much fun to watch.

She does spend about half the film as a frog, but she's all human for at least the first 45 minutes, and even throughout the frog section there are frequent flashbacks and fantasy sequences showing her in human form. And I do think the story justifies it, more or less; her character's journey, Naveen's growth, and the shift in their feelings toward each other would all carry less weight if they were both cartoon-attractive humans throughout (plus, uh, fairy tale. What did the critics expect?).

And this critique kind of irritated me:

Disney's first black "princess" lives in a world where the ceiling on black ambition is firmly set at the service industries, and Tiana and her neighbors seem downright zip-a-dee-doo-dah happy about that.

Is it still service industry if she dreams of being the proprietor of a glittering and celebrated nightclub/restaurant, a sort of Crescent City Toots Shor? Food and music are two of the biggest sources of pride and identity for New Orleans; they're the two things everyone thinks of when they think of that city, the two things everyone from there brags on and misses and waxes sentimental about. She's got a gift for food that's both instinctive and knowing with a big side of pure joy (much like Remy, and all the restaurant staff, in Ratatouille, only quinetessentially Louisianan cuisine instead of Parisian, and I don't remember any bitching about how terrible it was that all these glorious characters just wanted to be in the service industry).

And this:

Like many a storybook maiden before her, Tiana wishes upon a star for a handsome prince to ferry her off to some magic kingdom—or at least help her to make a down payment.

Uh, no, she doesn't. She wishes for help, because she's spent her whole life working herself into the ground trying to bring her father's dream to life (and, yay, this is the first Princess movie in ever with a living mother; it's her dad who passed early, and Mom is still alive and well) and is terrified that it might all slip away because of a couple of genteelly racist real estate agents who have no problem gorging themselves on her splendid food and then dicking her over (oh, no, wait, I must have imagined that part, because the movie totally doesn't deal with racial issues; the reviewer said so right back there), but she's entirely scornful of her childhood companion's spoiled white girl wishes for a prince. She's worked like hell and earned everything she's ever gotten in her life, and she likes it that way. She wishes for help, but very much not for a prince.

And the animation is lush, and full of Mardi Gras greens and golds and purples; there's a splendid rendition of "Evangeline" and some decent Cajun music from Randy Newman that had Matilda standing up and dancing in her seat; and when the movie ended, the toddler boy in front of us burst into howling sobs, mumbled something into his mom's ear, and collapsed, and she said apologetically to us, "I'm sorry. He just wants more movie."