By Becca Harrington

With contemporary feminism on the rise, it seems more children, particularly girls, are aware of the once taboo term. Through the dissemination of ‘girl power’ narratives in popular children’s film and TV, it’s no wonder Disney has hopped on the trend with the likes of ‘empowering’ protagonists Moana and Merida. However, older Disney films have been subject to criticism for a while now for their portrayal of women. It’s clear the Disney Princess brand will not be going anywhere anytime soon, and that the company are trying to change their image when it comes to female characters. But can Disney Princess films ever truly be ‘feminist’?

Watching Disney Princess films is treated like a rite of passage for young girls, with a relatable female protagonist aspiring towards becoming what every little girl could only dream of – a princess. Ever since the first Princess film Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (1938), Disney has attempted to mould its never-changing narratives and characters around the context of their release, employing traces of feminist discourse like sprinkles on a cake – decorative but not substantial. 

These traces can first be seen particularly in the Disney renaissance era (1989-1999), a desperate period for the company to reaffirm their position in the world of animation. To kick things off, The Little Mermaid made a splash in cinemas in 1989, the first Princess film in thirty years. Its passive predecessor was Sleeping Beauty (1959). Sandwiched between the strong and influential second-wave movement and the 90s postfeminist ‘girl power’ rhetoric, Disney introduced a completely new angle on the Disney Princess brand – a woman with a dream. 

Ariel ticked the boxes of a conventionally attractive woman at the time: cisgender, white, slim, pretty, and able-bodied. But for the first time, Disney offered a narrative in which she, as the protagonist, actually leads and participates in the narrative. Ariel appeared to be the first Princess with a mind, and her ability to articulate her thoughts and, more importantly, her dream, reflected to the little girls in the audience that they too could wish for more than just ‘prince charming’. Following the likes of Cinderella and Snow White, who longed for a man to sweep them off their feet, Ariel’s goals existed irrespective of a man. She wanted to be human, and her emotional power ballad ‘Part of Your World’ was a welcome change to the ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’ songs of the past. 

A succession of Princesses followed, from book-obsessed Belle to just-as-good-as-a-man Mulan. These female protagonists were exactly what the audience of girls, growing up in a culture steeped in feminist change, needed: an autonomous woman who still fell in love with a handsome prince and became a princess, because why can’t a woman have both? While on the surface this new cookie-cutter image of a feminist Princess ensured Disney cashed in on the empowering feminist movement and dodged criticism for its historically passive female characters, it was clear in many ways that the Disney Princess formula would continue to portray a certain ‘type’ of woman, and a certain happy ending to audiences. 

Female bodies in Disney films continued to be sexualised and glorify unrealistic body images. From all the tiny waists to the enormous eyes, these ‘feminist’ heroines could only exist if they continued to meet society’s beauty standards and sell lunchboxes. As well as this, it appeared the new narrative arc, which saw each Princess striving to achieve something bigger than romantic love, be set up to fail, with the inherent nature of the plot remaining as ‘falling in love with a man/prince’. Such was the case for Ariel, who at the start of the film pursued life above water and, by the end, fought for her love interest Eric, a human. Of course, Ariel did achieve her dream, and the film concludes with her as a long-legged human in the arms of her prince, at the expense of losing everything she knows. 

 I’m not saying that marriage or falling in love with a man isn’t feminist. The feminist movement is centred around gender equality, and a large part of that comes down to achieving choice and autonomy for women. But that then begs the question: why simulate the ‘choice’ of the Princesses’ dreams, to then later mould this around the compulsory narrative of romantic love? In Beauty and the Beast (1991), Belle is bored in her ‘provincial life’, and her dream is evident when she sings ‘I want adventure in the great wide somewhere’. However, by the end of the film, she is perfectly content to settle for a relationship with the Prince, who lives in a castle down the road. How outrageous would it be for a Disney Princess to actually achieve her goals without having to sacrifice everything for romantic love with a man who does nothing but ‘try to win her’?

In the ever-changing feminist culture of the 2000s, Disney finally gave us what we had been asking for – a Princess without a love interest. Merida from Brave (2012) was our first taste of independent Princess life, the narrative commenting on Merida not wanting to choose a man to marry just for the sake of the kingdom and instead shifting to the relationship between her and her mother. As a Pixar film, Brave was the first to have a female protagonist. The critical response was mixed, as it was compared to the likes of other successful Pixar films, which left audiences to consider whether Merida be crowned a Disney Princess at all. When she was eventually considered a merchandise-worthy Princess, her image was altered to better fit that of the conventional Disney Princess brand of the past, with a smaller body and bigger eyes. 

Disney then offered Moana (2016) as their wholly original attempt to fit a loveless narrative into the Princess line. Moana, who has a more athletic build and a desire to travel, makes it through the whole plot without finding a prince or falling in love. In fact, unlike Brave, there is not even a mention of romantic love or the need for Moana to find a partner. She is fixed on her goal to see ‘how far [she’ll] go’ and achieves this by the end of the narrative. Did Disney finally create the feminist Princess film of our dreams? Not quite. 

While Disney made a valiant attempt to disguise the film as a feminist masterpiece, Moana is unfortunately still riddled with archaic gender stereotypes, ironic sexism and an all too self-referential approach to breaking the norm. This is most commonly seen every time Maui, the male companion of Moana on her adventures, highlights what a ‘princess’ should be doing. The ‘not bad for a princess’ approach in this film, while attempting to explicitly show how Disney are challenging the stereotypes of their previous films, continues to distance Moana, as a powerful woman, from that power. While Moana achieves great and almost entirely equal things in this film to her male counterparts, adding the comment of these things being impressive ‘for a girl’ sends a message to young female audiences that no matter how equal you are or feel, you will always be seen for your gender, not for your achievements. 

Why can’t Disney seem to get it right? Why are all their Princesses beautiful and able-bodied? Why must they fall in love and give up their dreams? Why do they need to be kept in their place as women? While Disney is starting to build off the progressive culture in society, including feminism, Disney can never truly produce an outlandish or wholly feminist film so long as they need to please a mass audience. 

In any context, the patriarchal structures ingrained in society will continue to disseminate one ideal which inherently champions others. Any decision to include intersections that go against the grain will be met with backlash from those who perpetuate these structures, and this could lead to alienating a large portion of the population and thus impact revenue. To keep afloat in this climate is to follow suit with what sells. Feminism sells, so long as it ‘behaves’ and fits other ideals in a patriarchal society. It is not on us to feel guilty for enjoying the happily ever after. But it is important to continue to challenge and break down the structures which limit how far Disney will go. It is on large corporations to question whether ‘normal’ means the same as ‘right’ and what more they can do to change their audience’s perceptions of what ‘normal’ is.