My General Issue with Disney's Recent Trend of Classic Remakes

Scene from Alice Through the Looking Glass

This past Memorial Day, my family and I decided to pull out the old Disney classics and give them a viewing. The line-up happened to feature two films that have current live action adaptations with The Jungle Book and Alice in Wonderland. Maybe it was the atmosphere or the barbecue, but the experience was so much fun and the films so lively that it made me raise a question: Why do we even need these live action remakes? As I'll get into, I know why that is. However, the deeper question as related to aesthetic and quality was the deeper question. Considering that this past week has also seen news of a Mary Poppins sequel and the first teaser for Beauty and the Beast (shot-for-shot identical with the original), it has me anxious again to explore this cynical new trend to try and understand what is going on with Disney specifically.

The one point that should be noted is that I am not opposed to remaking content. While the unnecessary ones often serve little value culturally, the idea of adapting content to fit a modern ideal is something that has always been appealing. In the case of film, almost every classic from the 30's and 40's is itself adapted from silent films a decade or more prior. Our standard for horror, director James Whale's Frankenstein, is itself a remake of a 1915 short. In fact, he also embodies the adaptation culture, as he's only gone on to be featured in films ranging from Monster Squad to Frankenhooker to I, Frankenstein and even on TV with Penny Dreadful. Remakes are not necessarily an issue to me - and I will enjoy a good one if the heart is in it.

So, what is the issue here with Disney remaking all of their old hits? There are a few things, but to understand, one must go back to the original films themselves and understand their appeal. In 2016 alone, there has been incessant talk for the company to make versions of Mary Poppins, The Jungle Book, Alice in Wonderland, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and many others. Admittedly, very few of these are actually "original" stories and thus are free to be adapted by whomever. However, anyone who has grown up with cinema savvy parents are well aware of the magic that is Disney. It isn't just a conventional story with adequate animation. In fact, it's something far deeper and reflective of craft. This isn't to say that there isn't any value in CGI nor is there in updating The Jungle Book to have more female characters. If anything, Disney has always come under fire for their gender roles, which are sometimes perceived as submissive and damaging. Making more progressive stories make sense.

However, one can easily turn to 2010 and see where things began to take a turn. It would be easy to blame Disney for trying to compete with Pixar with Frozen, Tangled, and Big Hero 6, but that is not what this particular complaint is about (the studio has done some redemptive work lately with the highly enjoyable Zootopia). This is specifically in regards to its recent infatuation with its own legacy, of which is made abundantly clear with how much your eye is likely rolling at the idea of Maleficent 2. It is coming, but it isn't one of those rare one-off sequels. Alice Through the Looking Glass is the first sequel in their live action adaptations, which makes sense considering that the 2010 original started this whole craze with a certain gloom, thanks to Tim Burton's faux-goth aesthetic. With a solid cast, it's a film that was met with deserved fanfare. After all, it has been 60 years since we've seen dear old Alice. What wonder would be in store?

Depending on your status, it was either disappointing or abysmal. It didn't stop it from winning Oscars (yes, it won two) or a Golden Globe nomination for Best Comedy or Musical, nor did it avoid making a billion dollars at the international box office during the dawn of Johnny Depp's winning streak. It makes sense why this film was deservedly met with the misguided but logical idea to update all of the old hits. This mean that Mary Poppins got a literal making-of origin story, the baddie from Sleeping Beauty got her own mother-daughter tale, and even O.G. Princess Cinderella got her moment. Of course, it's hard to keep all of these straight when you add other studios' entries into the craze with Snow White and the Huntsman as well as the underrated gem Mirror Mirror. However, it still paints an obnoxious trend called "brand deposits."

The idea of brand deposits isn't exclusive to Disney. Steve Jobs famously coined the term as meaning to create interest in your brand by reminding them why they like it. The opposite would be a brand withdrawal, which would be for the customer to lose interest. Whether or not it was intentional, Alice in Wonderland started the whole trend by reminding people why they loved the 1951 original. It got people talking about it so openly for the first time in eons. The same could be said for Saving Mr. Banks' impact on Mary Poppins. People began to care, and thus because people already had an association with the brand (a.k.a. movie), they were more willing to give the remake a shot because they wanted to see what was so different. Even the idea of a remake of a classic can spawn interest over a year before its release and months before the cameras roll. From a business standpoint, this is flawless logic on how to make twice as much from one product.

True, Burton's take was aesthetically darker and grittier, with far more surrealistic portraits of characters. That's how he always operated. However, it encouraged filmmakers since to try to make the story just different enough. Maleficent became a mother-daughter story that focused on adopted parents. It was more in tune with the idea of updating its story for a contemporary audience, where even the famous goofy fairies were now possibly and secretively gay. Still, Angelina Jolie's headpiece (and cheekbones) became iconic in ways that has given that film its own legacy, with a popular Halloween costume to boot. It's too early to say what impact the other films have had, but they all exist in a vacuum of nostalgia disguised as inventive new takes. They aren't entirely hollow, but it becomes difficult to appreciate them as works when brand deposits come into question.

I get it. Every film ever has to exist with a belief that it will make a profit. For most, that's in worldwide currency. Disney has likely always existed with the need to impress the most people. Even then, it becomes easy to see how that legacy was quickly cemented with the early animated hits like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Cinderella. They took animation to a full length narrative and did so with a certain painstaking attention to detail. Even if they had their misses, their hits service as the foundation to their reputation. Admittedly, the need for hand drawn animation has unfortunately faded, and will continue to do so as Studio Ghibli's main staff retires. There's no denying that modern audiences want CGI stories, thanks in large part to Disney spin-off company Pixar. It's an undeniable truth, and one that may hurt purists or those who love details in film when comparing the rich texture of The Little Mermaid to the hollow, vomited ice cream appearance of Frozen. 

I am sure that it comes down to a matter of tastes. However, I can't be the only one who's dismayed by the contemporary output of Disney and their need to remind us why we loved their old films. For instance, I found Maleficent to be a cynical cash grab with very little wit or soul to compensate. It becomes difficult, especially with the catch that one needs to pay to see the product and thus cannot have a formative opinion on the subject. Still, of what I have seen, there's plenty of attention to detail that remains inattentive. Even with increasingly great casts, I don't understand why I need to be reminded that this studio has such a lasting impact. Maybe it's a creative lull, or Alice in Wonderland really did send the wrong message. Whatever the case may be, it feels like a vicious circle in which curiosity fuels this madding fad and that nothing is solved. 

It is true. Nothing will be able to take away from the originals. Having watched them again recently, I attest to their ability to entertain. It makes me wish that the new takes could have just as much innovation, especially from a company as towering as Disney. Still, it becomes difficult to stay silent as the remakes continue to be announced, as if a limited edition baseball card series that one has to collect all of. Do we really need to see a live action Bambi where a deer gets shot? Are we just expecting kids to form their own bond and make these films as resonant as the originals, but with less good will? It may seem silly to assess a studio that already has earned a couple billion worldwide this year, but it does bother me that these films sometimes play into the worst tendencies of remakes instead of offering something of value. I'm not saying all of them do (I have yet to see The Jungle Book), but it becomes painful to ask "How will they do the original proud?" instead of wondering what new and amazing sights we'll see. I don't need to be reminded that the original is good. I need to be reminded that this studio can make great work.