Disney's Live-Action 'Little Mermaid' and Ethnic Favoritism
Let's judge the content of the controversy, not the color of Ariel's skin
Disclaimer: let it be known that the years have eaten away at my Disney fandom. With increasing frequency, the company seems obstinately committed to profit-mongering and tribalistic politicking—at the expense of general goodwill and artistic integrity. Once an unparalleled haven for family entertainment, the Mouse House is morphing into a Rat’s Hall of mirrors. That doesn’t mean, however, that Disney can’t still sometimes do something good.
It has been legitimately questioned whether or not any of Disney’s live-action remakes are justified. Especially in the case of the animation studio’s Renaissance period, attempting to improve on that which is considered near perfect is near impossible. The financial viability of regurgitating old films seems to have overridden an interest in pursuing original stories.1
The newest possible offender is Disney’s live action remake of its 1989 animated film The Little Mermaid. Will it breathe new life into the classic underwater tale, or will it simply be singing with a stolen set of pipes? We won’t know the answer to that question until the film is released in 2023.
Thus far, the most controversial element of this particular remake lies with the casting of Halle Bailey as the titular character. As The Federalist notes, “fans on both sides of the political aisle had pretty much the same reaction: she’s black!” The article goes on to show that progressives have praised the casting choice as “a giant deal” and “an exciting step forward,” whereas conservatives have condemned the move as “Hollywood pandering” and “kinda offensive.”
As a conservative myself, I find this controversy disappointing. It’s one thing to question the artistry of Disney’s live-action remakes, or to have issues with an actor’s singing and/or acting chops; it’s quite another to make a federal case out of an actor’s skin color. The indignation seems based on reasons that are shallow (at best) or malicious (at worst).
But the concerns of my fellow conservatives deserve a more reasoned response than the reductionist accusation of “racist.” As such, I wish to address the two main objections I have seen.
A Violation of the Source Material
One argument is that having a black mermaid is not faithful to the source material—i.e., the 1836 Danish fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. But let us consider some of the main characteristics of this tale:
The little mermaid’s hair is “long,” and her skin is “as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf,” but no color is given for either.2
The mermaid’s desire to be a human involves a longing to live for eternity (as mermaids, we are told, cease to exist after death).
Her transformation requires having feet so tender that every step she takes feels like “treading upon sharp knives.”
The prince she is in love with ends up marrying another woman (not the sea witch in disguise).
When given the opportunity to kill the prince to reverse the spell she is under, the mermaid chooses instead to make her own life forfeit—an act of selflessness that allows her to obtain an immortal soul.
Disney’s animated Little Mermaid, as enjoyable as it was, was decidedly unfaithful to the source material—what with its plot revisions, musical numbers, anthropomorphic animals, and happily-ever-after love story.3 It also jettisoned most of the feminine roles in the original fairy tale.4
The reality is that most Disney princess movies have strayed far from their source materials. That this pattern is suddenly a serious problem with the live-action The Little Mermaid makes the objections against a black Ariel appear disingenuous.
Besides, if anything, the live-action Little Mermaid may be more faithful to Hans Christian Andersen’s fable, as this new Ariel won’t be defined by needing a man’s love, which lines up with what Andersen wrote about his fairy tale: “I have not . . . allowed the mermaid’s acquiring of an immortal soul to depend upon . . . the love of a human being.”
In any case, the “not true to the source material” argument rings hollow for another reason: it aligns with the leftist aversion to “cultural appropriation.” While there is obvious wisdom in treating other cultures with dignity and respect, progressives have gone excessively and laughably overboard in condemning the use of artifacts, customs, and characteristics of cultures other than one’s own. But as even The Atlantic has pointed out, condemning cultural appropriation outright is “naïve, paternalistic, and counterproductive.”
So why would conservatives borrow leftist rhetoric—i.e., that we are dishonoring an original Danish tale by appropriating it for a modern, multicultural product—in this particular instance? The argument doesn’t hold water when leftists or conservatives use it.
An Agenda-Driven Move
When I posted my initial thoughts about this controversy on Facebook, my original post and its reshares received comments which, when combined, numbered in the hundreds. Some expressed concern over a leftist agenda:
“Not only have they gone woke…they’ve gone stupid.”
“Disney should…[s]top being so aggressive pushing their political agenda.”
“[T]he transition to black actors is being forced for the purpose of not casting white actors.”
“[T]hey’re ruining things that people have loved for years/ decades.”
“Stop with the social justice crap!”
“[It’s] the shoving down our throats of race baiting garbage.”
Consider, however, some pertinent facts. In the 85 years since Disney started its princess lineup, the only original black princess to date is Tiana (from The Princess and the Frog, released over a decade ago). And the only live-action reimagining of a Disney princess as a black woman, to my knowledge, is Brandy (a.k.a. Cinderella) in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, released as a TV movie back in 1997. A black Ariel in 2023 won’t even qualify as a trend, let alone one that is “forced” or “aggressive.”
Consider also that some of the language used above (“aggressive…political agenda,” “[they’ve] gone woke,” “social justice crap,” etc.) echoes the objections conservatives use against Disney for seeking to normalize same-sex relationships. But must we respond to ethnic diversity (regardless of how it is being promoted) in the same way we respond to the promotion of gender diversity? Does a black Ariel deserve the same moral outrage as the lesbian couple in Lightyear? Do we really want to communicate to the world at large—not to mention our minority friends and family members—that being black is morally equivalent to same-sex relations? Such an assertion (whether purposeful or accidental) is itself morally repulsive.
Once again, it’s as if conservatives are borrowing talking points from the liberal playbook. It is the political left that asserts an equivalence between civil rights issues and gender fluidity issues. It is Critical Race Theory which “recognizes that race intersects with other identities, including sexuality, gender identity, and others.” Conservatives are quick to refute these false equivalencies—except, it seems, when it comes to the presence of ethnic minorities in our entertainment.
An Inconvenient Motivation
In light of their questionable nature, the above objections to a black Ariel give the appearance, if not the reality, of what Scripture refers to as partiality (see James 2:1-13). In this case, we might call it ethnic partiality—i.e., giving undue preferential treatment to one ethnic group over another. This form of partiality, even if not malicious or intentional, is still sinful.5
In the book of James, the word “partiality” refers to making a judgment based on a person’s “outward and worldly advantages” (Matthew Henry)—all those “parts or qualities we take notice of in [a] person” (Matthew Poole). That is exactly what is going on here: considering an actress inappropriate for a role based on her qualities that we notice (i.e., her skin color)—qualities that are “outward” and “worldly” (in the sense that judging someone by externals is antithetical to how God judges them). The main complaint about Halle Bailey is her skin color, not her thespian skills.
To be sure, not every objection to this new Ariel is created equal. For example, one might even object to a black Ariel on the grounds that it sends a dangerous message to minorities—i.e., “they’re not good enough to have their own characters, so they have to piggyback off non-minorities.”
But that’s not what this whole controversy is about. We’re not talking about arguments over what’s good for minorities (how a given story might best show honor to them); we are talking about arguments over whether minorities are good enough for a story. The way the argument is being framed is inherently demeaning.
Again, the objections we’ve addressed are the ones that give—at the very least—the appearance of violating the prohibitions in James 2. We might even word it this way: “If you give positive attention to a European American and say, ‘You star in our film,’ while you say to an African American actor, ‘You don’t belong here,’ or ‘Stay over there as a minor character,’ have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?”
One cannot object to the color of Halle Bailey’s skin in one breath and then deny that he is judging her by the color of her skin in the next. As James puts it, “If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing well. But if you show partiality [based on skin color or anything else] you are committing sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors” (vv. 8-9).
Part of our World
There is much we still don’t know about this Little Mermaid remake, but one thing we do know is this: during auditions for the character of Ariel, director Rob Marshall was influenced, not by Halle Bailey’s melanin count, but by the power of her performance, which left him in tears.
And to once again quote from The Federalist:
When Disney initially made the announcement that Bailey would be the new Ariel, they didn’t say, “Ariel will be black!” They said, “It was abundantly clear that Halle possesses that rare combination of spirit, heart, youth, innocence, and substance—plus a glorious singing voice—all intrinsic qualities necessary to play this iconic role.” . . . . It was everyone else—leftist and conservative alike—who proclaimed her blackness to be her defining feature.
The article goes on to state in no uncertain terms, “There’s no reason she can’t be black.”6
Scripture teaches that all humans are created in the image of God, and are therefore equal in worth and value. There is no room in the kingdom of God for partiality of any kind, ethnic or otherwise. And in a melting pot like the United States, it could be a legitimate and genuine joy—and already has been—for minority audience members to see an iteration of a prestigious Disney princess that looks like them. Even if only inadvertently, this celebrates the goodness of the ethnic diversity inherent in God’s creation.
There is no inherent contradiction between these two statements:
It is grievous that individuals and institutions are treating ethnic diversity as an opportunity for virtue signaling and political posturing.
It is good that a multicultural nation like ours is getting another story with a minority protagonist that will show neighborly love to minorities all across the country.
We can assert both at the same time. And even if and when our culture promotes diversity for the clandestine purposes of partiality, followers of Christ have no excuse to push back by promoting a different form of partiality.
UPDATE: Now that the film is out, Brett McCracken raises some cautions about the story’s treatment of gender politics:
Disney’s new live-action remake of The Little Mermaid—even more than the 1989 original—advocates a message that should give us pause. On one hand, it’s just more of the same for Disney: be true to yourself; follow your heart; don’t let anyone stand in your way; “my body, my choice.” But especially against the backdrop of our current cultural moment, the 2023 Mermaid takes it one step further.
Some who expressed concern over this new Ariel being played by an African American may be tempted to point to McCracken’s review and say, “See? We were right all along! Disney is using this movie to push a more radical progressive ideology!”
I would caution against such statements—not because I disagree with McCracken, but because of the main point of the piece I originally wrote above: Let’s not treat race issues and LGBTQ+ issues as moral equivalents. As Danny Slavich recently tweeted, equating the two represents a capitulation to anti-Biblical ideologies:
Putting…historic views of sexuality/LGBT+…into the same category as racial oppression makes sense in the categories set out by critical theory, which conflates all forms of identity as social constructs. But we as Christians have better resources for exploring these categories. A robust theology of the imago Dei allows us to—in fact demands that we disentangle sex and race. Race is a social construct but sex is a created given. So we can affirm complementarianism and historic, biblical sexuality, affirming the imago Dei, on the same grounds that we tear down strongholds of racial supremacy.
In a society where race and sex are arbitrarily tangled together, we have the resources to disentangle them. In a society where racial oppression and traditional sexual ethics are treated as interrelated evils, we must reject the false and moral equivalencies of the two and deal with each on their own merits. When it comes to addressing issues of ethnicity and sexuality, we have much better diagnostic tools than anything the world has to offer.
Personally, I suspect Disney is trying to milk as much money out of its dead horses as possible. (Sorry for the imagery.)
The careful reader will notice that her skin’s two characteristics—“clear and delicate”—are compared to the quality, and not necessarily the color, of a rose. It’s not unreasonable to assume this mermaid has white skin, but it’s not an essential part of her character.
And let’s not forget that the character of Sebastian, originally designed to be a stuffy English crab named Clarence, was eventually voiced by a black actor/singer (Samuel E. Wright) and reimagined as “a crab from the Caribbean, which would allow [lyricist Howard Ashman] and [Alan] Menken to write songs in the Afro-Caribbean style of Calypso music.” Not to mention the fact that Disney’s subsequent TV show The Little Mermaid (which acted as a prequel/spinoff series to the original animated film) included a dark-skinned mermaid named Gabriella.
One essayist explains in more detail: “[I]n the original tale the grandmother serves as a source of information and as a positive model for the little mermaid. In the Disney version, this role model is a male bird who misinforms the mermaid. Second, unlike the Disney witch, the Andersen sea witch supports the little mermaid’s search for an immortal soul; she never attempts to foil the mermaid’s plans and even contributes blood from her own breast to make the potion that transforms the mermaid into a human. Third, the sisters of the mermaid in the original story sacrifice their only treasure to help their sister; Ariel’s sisters do nothing. Finally, femininity gets its ultimate affirmation from the daughters of the air. They teach the little mermaid about charity, and they exist only as females. The grandmother, the sea witches, the princess, the sisters, and the daughters of the air are all strong, beautiful, supportive, and feminine. Nevertheless, Disney destroys all of these characters by changing their gender, by making their motivations anti-feminine, or by editing their function from the story.”
We might compare this partiality to liberal media bias: a particular member of the press might harbor no inherent animus toward conservatives, but he nevertheless interprets and communicates the news in a way that puts conservative values in a negative light. Similarly, there may be ripple effects of America’s past (not only of ethnic partiality, but outright racial animus as well) that are still feeding our presuppositions today, leading us to interpret modern-day events in a way that puts minorities in a negative light. In either case, unintentional partiality is still partiality.
For those unfamiliar with The Federalist, it is a staunchly conservative magazine, rated alternatively as right-leaning, hyper-partisan right, or extreme right. In other words, this publication, which doesn’t cater to progressive agendas, says there is “no reason” the character of Ariel can’t be played by an African American.