Ten years after adapting arguably its most iconic princess, Cinderella, to live action, Disney has done it again, but this time with the one who started it all. The first American animated feature film, “Snow White,” is approaching her 88th birthday this year. I think it’s fair to say she was overdue for a slight freshening up—or maybe not.
When Disney first announced it would be creating a live action version of “Cinderella” in 2015, I remember being enthusiastically intrigued. Seeing the film ultimately inspired a love for its fantastical lavishness. I sat with anticipation as I waited to see how iconic moments from the animation would be done realistically, and, despite already knowing the story going in, I was hooked; and I was not the only one. The movie went on to gross over $500 million dollars worldwide, and two years later the consequential “Beauty and the Beast” remake grossed over a billion dollars.
A decade later, the world has seemingly changed its tune. What used to be a must-watch theatrical event for my family and me now feels like a default choice when nothing else appeals, so you say, “I guess we could check out that new Disney movie…” It will likely be more successful once it reaches the hands of Disney+ wielding parents and babysitters and could very well be a hit among the younger generation, but it certainly will be far from the unmissable event of the year.
The dullness of what once was a shimmering spark of reimagined innovation has made me question the true purpose of a remake and what their future is, if any.
My immediate first thought about the rise of remakes was that nostalgia sells. For years, Hollywood has reaped the benefits of nostalgic appeals to audiences, and most of the time has left with the lesson that this is what drives a crowd to the theaters. Both the “Jurassic Park” series and “Star Wars” saga are several decades old and still have new films on the horizon. A timeless franchise is a point of unity for audiences young and old alike. However, one can only harp on the past for so long. It feels pretty bleak to think that the only blockbusters being made are ones that retell an overdone story or are sequel number whatever of a series that has been milked by Hollywood executives for way too long.
It is clear Hollywood is changing, and rapidly so. But as things do change, many things stay the same. The post-COVID box office has still not recovered, and the overall attitude of moviegoers has shifted completely in the streaming era. With thousands of hours of content available at a person’s fingertips, it takes more than a beloved actor or cleverly crafted trailer to convince an individual to commit to a theatrical viewing. These nostalgic sells are perhaps a desperate attempt to keep audiences engaged in theater-going, but it feels like the studios have settled for “good enough” rather than something even remotely exciting.
As I watched the new “Snow White,” I did find myself still eager to see the iconic scenes redone in a live action format, but, even as the anticipation kept me engaged, nothing felt like a shock. I think that is what even the best remakes have going for them: the fact that, although everyone already knows the story, the choreography of the moments themselves are opportunities to surprise the audience. Already knowing that Cinderella loses her shoe, Belle breaks the castle’s curse, Ariel regains her voice, and Snow White is poisoned by an apple does not ruin the experience, for it is the anticipation of seeing those exact moments replayed in a new format that is meant to keep the audience engaged.
The classic ballroom scene from “Beauty and the Beast” justified its live action treatment with its elegant extravagance, as did the scene in “Cinderella” where her gilded carriage grows vines as she races home after midnight. Even in the 2023 version of “The Little Mermaid” the storm at sea gave opportunity for innovation in the medium and beautiful, realistic imagery. My favorite parts of the recent “Snow White” were the scenes in the forest that unfolded without dialogue as we watched the warm sun cast a charming glow onto the lush foliage and the adorable creatures that surrounded this beloved princess. It felt like a moment captured from an elaborate pop-up book, but when the page turned, the return to the two dimensional plot and flat caricatures left me wanting to go back.
This version completely changed the character of Snow White, and, to be honest, I don’t know how it couldn’t have. I take no issue with the changes in story and character, and I think they were able to make a pretty dull character a little less dull. They gave her motivations outside of the pursuit of a man and a connection to the townspeople who were also mistreated by the Evil Queen. I would have appreciated the story even more if it didn’t feel like a conglomeration of things we have seen so many times before, and by the same company.
Snow White got a very Cinderella-esque backstory, with the queen being her evil stepmother, and she ultimately led the townspeople into a ten-minute revolution to reclaim the kingdom for themselves … sound familiar? The added music was a nice touch, and Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, the film’s composers, admittedly had me tapping my foot along as Rachel Zegler graced us with her vocal mastery and Gal Gadot also … tried! It is clear this movie was imbued with Pasek and Paul’s “The Greatest Showman” energy, as a moment of marching at the end—that I did enjoy—felt quite reminiscent of a similar moment in the aforementioned circus-themed film.
While all of these additions were new, in terms of what the original “Snow White” story was, I can’t go as far as to call them fresh, because none of it was, and I think that is the root of the issues plaguing remakes today. Disney can add in as many new songs, scenes, and backstory elements as they want—to the point that the movie is almost unrecognizable—but I think they ultimately must have little faith in their audience’s intelligence. It does not take an expert to realize that none of the changes were done with any substantial amount of originality or real creative innovation.
The casting of Rachel Zegler was an inspired choice, and I am at least glad that Disney has continued to go down the route of casting actual singers for musical roles, or at least for the main ones. Following Halle Bailey, who embodied Ariel perfectly and provided new versions of classic songs that I enjoyed better than the originals, Zegler also provided some stellar musical moments which are highlights of the film. However, the scrutiny she, and Bailey, have both faced for their castings has left me truly dumbfounded as to Disney’s true motivations behind these films.
Giving these actresses the opportunity to shine in iconic roles is exciting, but feels pointless when the sheer abundance of hate and controversy that surrounds this decision not only negatively impacts the films but feels like a set up for these new Hollywood talents now plagued by a mob of angry racists. It could be the point that seeing these iconic characters portrayed by actresses of color is impactful in itself due to the rich legacy they hold within popular culture. However, when the amplitude of oppositionary voices overpowers any meaningful discussion of diversity, it feels like Disney is putting these young actresses in a position that makes them vulnerable to intense public scrutiny, then leaving them to fend for themselves while the studio attempts to fix any damage done to the public image of the film rather than its stars. So long as Disney continues to diversify their remakes—inevitable when the originals are a sea of white—this pattern will continue. And when you look at it plainly, any anger inspired by “racebending” a character could be avoided if there is no character that is being changed … perhaps instead by making an … original character.
For some reason, though, Disney and many other major Hollywood studios seem to find it easier to appear diverse through casting in remakes than actually being diverse. In doing so, one side always becomes angry because the film is suddenly too “woke,” and the other side just doesn’t care because the representation is inauthentic and feels like the filling of a diversity quota. So, who are they really doing this all for then?
The answer is for themselves. Why pay a writer to create a new story when we already have one? Worried that people will be uninterested? Advertise it as a “reimagining” or a “fresh new take on a classic.” Not enough diversity in the original? No problem, we’ll cast an actor of color in the lead but make sure everyone else is white and nothing about their race is important to the story. How will we afford all of the sets? Just CGI it. Will everyone love it? Probably not. Will it make a ton of money? Not a ton, but it’ll be good enough.
As long as “good enough” cuts it, Hollywood remakes have a long future ahead of them.
