Showing posts with label lion king. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lion king. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

Hitting a guy with glasses



In the immortal words of TS Eliot: Well, fuck.

I was sitting here pondering whether to write my next entry on Avatar or on the antics of finding a job, when this friend of mine sends me an e-bitchslap to inform me that the Nostalgia Critic has published a Top 11 Villian Songs. (I’m not sure what the fuck a ‘villian’ is, the urban dictionary goes for two definitions and I’m guessing Doug adhered to the Kejardon version), but the reason why this was brought to my attention is that the list features – at number 5 – the song ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ by Ursula. Given the ubiquitous international popularity of my blog, it’s clear that that guy with glasses was influenced in his work by my list of Top Ten Disney Songs, which features PUS at the top #1 spot, nay even lifted the whole work verbatim! Well, normally I’m happy to let the repercussions of my prestige spread forth without interference, but this occurrence brought back to the surface a question which numerous people have asked me now: why in the name of hell didn’t I include any songs from The Lion King in my Top Ten Disney Songs list? I mean, Scar’s song Be prepared even makes the third place of Doug’s list, and that’s one of the most anonymous in the film. How could they not make it in mine??



(By the way, the German version of this song is the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen in my life, though I’ll admit I almost died laughing when he roared IDIOTEN like a Sturmtruppen commando who finds his men have lost a tank over a poker game).

Back to the LK question, I’d like to answer it now because I think it’s important – not because the Lion King is important per se, I mean, but because it highlights some relevant questions on what criticism is, how it works and why it exists. And it’s somewhat of a challenge to the Nostalgia Critic, I guess, and he deserves this for having shop-lifted my ideas. So here goes, bitch. Shield yourself.

I’ll admit that TLK featured in my options for the songs to put on, not through Hakuna Matata, which possibly ranks first in the list of ‘Most overrated Disney songs of all time’ (I might have broken a heart or two here, but ‘Bare Necessities’ from the Jungle Book did that specific trick before and did it much better). Rather I was rubbing my chin over the Circle of Life song. Take a second to listen to the music and look at the video. It’s impossible not to be seduced by this piece – it’s such a beautiful rendition of the African landscapes and fauna. It’s innovative for its time in the realistic rather than cartoony rendition, and the music is lovely – a wonderfully harmonic interplay between chorus and lead voices, efficiently sustained by an orchestral background which is potent but essential. Excellent in many ways.

So why no spot in the list?



Well, the problem with the song is not the music, but the message. The entire LK film strives to draw a connection between established power and natural law – the highly repressive Old World ideology that says the King has been chosen by God and the monarchy is a divine institution. In this sense, the opening song is the most raw and explicit sequence of the entire movie – after the panoramic views over the African animals, the frame flies into and towards a massive stone phallus. The lion is symbolically standing at the peak of the stone, and all the animals bow to the big flagging dick. This is the message of the phallus, in its most elementary and total iteration – everything bows towards me, I am the master of all things, nature is there to serve me, etc. It goes back to the rhetorical statement in Iron Man, ‘Peace is the man with the biggest stick’ (which folds over to become, ‘Peace is the man with the biggest dick’). And the notion that nature follows and bends to all of this is bullshit. The song only stages a representation of privilege for the sake of privilege – aka, a power fantasy.

In fact, the song is so unapologetic in surrendering to the seductive power of the privileged signifier (which is Lacan’s expression for the phallus), and so in-your-face when presenting the Apollonian symbols of rigidity which support it (the stone, the straight line, the lion, the sunray, the direct zooming frame), that I cannot in all honesty call it a ‘good’ song – not because it’s badly executed, but because it is irresponsible. It is an insult to nature, not a representation of it (much less an accurate one) – because it shows nature as a mere function of our own personal fantasy (flexibly, as a power fantasy, not an exclusively masculine one). Nature is here to serve me, aye!!!! I am the king!!!!! (and fuck off).

Now – this is where things get dangerous for me, because I’m throwing a stone against someone quite a bit more established than I am – but this is the whole reason why a song like ‘Be Prepared,’ much like the Circle of Life, has no place in any top 10 list (or top 11). Doug correctly picked out the Nazi references, but he glosses over the fact that the Nazi demonization, in context, is an extraordinarily hypocritical statement (and this kind of glossing over in turn is hypocritical if you’re calling yourself a critic). Obviously the intent of the producers was that of getting kids to associate Nazi imagery with evil values (‘ooohh, those guys are goose-stepping like Scar’s hyenas, they must be bad!’). But if that was the idea, then why the fuck make a whole film based around asserting that there is a natural order giving legitimacy to the ruling classes, and that any attempt to change the status quo or improve one’s social class will only lead to disaster and ruin? Yes, that’s the instinct that is at the heart of Nazism in the first place – the idea of totalitarianism justified by natural selection. And the representation of which ‘animals’ are the good ones and which the bad is correspondingly – and worryingly – racist. As I wrote in one of my very first posts in this blog, ‘the mightily detestable hyenas are made to look and sound like the marginalia of current times: we have the idiot, the mafia stereotype Frankie guy (presumably Italian, who the fuck knows) and the black woman (who goes like peaches of course with the fact that all the good lions are markedly white, while the only bad one is the darker one; though Scar's traits are more Middle-Eastern than black, plastically). Add the fact that female lions also seem to have a purely supportive and subdued role throughout the whole film’ and the fact that Scar, as well as Arabic, also seems rather effeminate, and bingo! It’s an Aryan wet dream.



And this also begs the question – it’s fine to speak of the circle of life if you’re born the lion, but what do you do if you’re born one of the minorities? What should Madame Bovary do? What should Prometheus, or Iago, or a Franz Kafka do here?

Don’t mistake me – I’m not saying that the film is a Nazi manifesto or that it’s openly Nazi or anything. However, it does cater to the narcissistic kind of ‘I am the chosen one’ instincts which, when couched in the context of social representations and power scenarios (as is manifestly the case with TLK), lead to self-privileging, exclusive-rather-than-inclusive ideologies which are the core of Nazism. It’s hypocritical to condemn Nazism in the song when you’re fomenting its core instincts throughout all the film – and it’s a weakness of Doug’s review of the song that he fails to pick up on this clash.

So my problem with Doug’s inclusion of the song in the list is that he ignores the message in favour of the execution. He justifies the selection by criteria which relate to personal taste – the colour-scheme, the accents of voices, and so on, rather than the congruence and the social meaning of the underlying statement. The actual process of interpretation, which is at the heart of all real criticism, is not there at all. Of course, I understand that the Nostalgia Critic has a slightly different focus than a website like, say, Popmatters. It inscribes itself in the tradition of web-comedians like the Angry Nintendo Nerd, whom he famously cooperated with. But this is not an excuse. Yahtzee Croshaw from Zero Punctuation belongs to the same genre, but his comedy never comes at the expense of a real critical spirit. Some of his readings may be questionable, but he always adds a meditation on what the game is about, and he doesn’t divorce questions of quality from those of the text’s statement – in other words, he acknowledges and exposes the text’s social responsibility, which is exactly what a critic should do. Further, using the tag ‘it’s just comedy’ is a terrible detraction from the power of something like the Nostalgia Critic and from the merits of Doug for discovering and developing it. Criticism outside the established institution of criticism has the potential to be much more effective, precisely because – by being at the borders where different discourses rub flanks – it can speak to so many more people. That’s why it’s important that users of this form of criticism take responsibility for it, like Yahtzee is doing.



The rounds are on you, Doug – not only because I’m too broke to pay for any more beers, but because as long as you’re going to call yourself the Nostalgia Critic, you should take responsibility for your title. Veer more towards Croshaw than towards the AVGN, and give us real interpretation when justifying your statements of merit (you’ve done it at times, so it’s obvious you have the competence). It doesn’t have to come at the expense of the comedy, it just has to be original thinking – showing that a film’s quality depends on more than just the choreography, the colours, the pace and the pyrotechnics. In other words, showing that it depends on more than the obvious. Or, change your name to the Nostalgia Nerd and drop the ‘Critic’ from your title. Either way, be true to what you stand for.

And aaaaaaamen!!!! That’s me preaching from me ivory tower done for the day!! Now go forth and multiply. Onwards ye masses.

Monday, 2 June 2008

The Lion King: best hangover movie ever?


I was trying to get my stomach to feel like something other than the Rubik cube that it seemed to be that morning what with the Whiskey swigs of the previous night, when someone suggested that 'The Lion King' is the best hangover film in the world. I don't know if it really deserves such high praise - Hitler: The Rise of Evil and Jurassic Park have something to say for themselves, for instance - but the fact of the matter is that I found myself watching the Disney version of ‘Crocodile Dundee in the Serengeti’ except with animals instead of actors (assuming that Paul Hogan can’t be considered an animal) for the first time in a great deal of years.

And I thought it to be highly interesting. It doesn't take a genius to figure that the core message of the film could have the balls drooping off a cactus, but that's not what I want to discuss, since even that retarded baboon who walks around with a stick all the time and couldn't put two coherent sentences together if he tried could tell you that Mufasa doesn't deserve the lion's act as much as the guillotine. After all, the entire film seems to revolve around the message that trying to change the status quo or improving one's social class will only lead to disaster and ruin, and that the best thing to do is to accept whatever (shit) we get. En passant, there's a demonisation of the peripheral elements of society. The mightily detestable hyenas are made to look and sound like the marginalia of current times: we have the idiot, the mafia stereotype Frankie guy (presumably Italian, who the fuck knows) and the black woman (who goes like peaches of course with the fact that all the good lions are markedly white, while the only bad one is the darker one; though Scar's traits are more Middle-Eastern than black, plastically). Add the fact that female lions also seem to have a purely supportive and subdued role throughout the whole film BLAH BLAH BLAH RACISM BLAH BLAH PATRIARCHY YADDA YADDA YADDA how the hell did I get into discussing this when I started off by saying it was as obvious as two buttcheeks on your windshield?

Le fuck. Scratch the blackboard, back to formula. Because for all its manifest authoritarianism I still found something under it (or on the surface?) which was much to be liked. Namely, as far as portraits of the Saturnian golden age go, this is a remarkably successful one. The fact that it’s set in the natural world in the first place gives it an edge to dream about. I mean, when you read the middle books of Paradise Lost, one of the things which really make heaven seem so unappealing (aside from the amount of yacking that the angel does - honestly, *six books* of iambic monologue? Jesus Christ) is the fact that it’s so goddam cloying: everything is made of gold, light and sugar. There’s not a single thing that seems natural; for a universal land of well-being predating the birth of societies, it seems only too accomodating to the requirements of 17th Century England. And it’s not like Dante’s visions of crosses and circles floating in the sky are particularly appealing, symbolically charged (and often beautifully versed) as they may be. But the Edenic canvas of The Lion King manages to remain gripping throughout, probably because by throwing the human element out of the window you’re left with a much more primordial-slash-natural atmosphere, which is the key to all Edenic representations (albeit hugely inaccurate in terms of portraying real nature, I know, I knew that since first seeing it as a kid in fact, so spare me the raised hands). Yeah, this is really so delightful to watch (thanks to the spectacular direction, among other things) that hangovers do become pleasant occasions to be shared with friends, rather than substitutive for funerals.

Then again, of course, it’s not like something being ‘delightful to watch’ makes it a good movie, but that’s a question I really cannot be arsed to unravel at the moment. Besides, what’s *really* interesting about the Lion King is that the success of the Edenic representation rests on its instability. The film’s view of history is cyclical, not Utopian or teleological; and the Saturnian golden age feels so good because we fall from its clouds and then regain them, not because we stay in them. It seems that we’re not really happy in heaven, and not even in hell. Rather, it’s their unwritten margin, the space of anxiety and anticipation, that gives us the real kicks. The death of tension, for the good or for the bad, is just fucking boring.

So what’s my point? Well, aside from the fact that Scar says the kind of things I’d expect from the good guy rather than the bad (‘I’ve got the lion’s share of intelligence, not brute force’, ‘Now begins a new glorious era in which lions and hyenas shall live together in peace’ or something along those lines), and aside from stating the obvious - i.e., it’s fine as roastbeef to speak of the ‘Circle of Life’ if you’re the king (or the retarded baboon - who incidentally is a mandril - since it’s not like he’s got anyone he could get laid with anyway even if he spoke sense), but what of the Madame Bovarys of this life, the Franz Kafkas, the Iagos, the Promethei - aside from all this, I wanted to say that I think The Lion King has some merits as a hangover movie because it’s a very inveigling representation of the little house we bear inside us and we’d someday like to return to. Oh yeah.

It's better than its tedious thematic equivalents like Death in Venice, anyway. What can I say? Hail to the Lion Fuhrer!

(Though I do have to confess that its hangover-movie appeal did take a vertical plunge down the hills for this viewer the minute the film started going all Hamlet on me. Of course they cut out the bit in which Scar is sheep-banging Mufasa’s wife doggy-style, but I swear that in the sequence where Simba sees his father’s ghost, returns home and has his mother mistake him for his father my post-alcohol nausea just went apeshit. I can take incest, I can take bestiality, but the two things mixed together and in a Disney movie for the love of God are just too much to take. Sorry Walt, you lost me in your circle of life).