Anyone who grew up watching animated Disney movies has probably come to a disturbing realization: Disney movies use a dangerous formula when it comes to portraying motherhood. The protagonist’s mother is either terrible, inexplicably absent, or dead. There are a few exceptions, of course, as is the case with any rule. But, generally speaking, the animation studio sticks to singular depictions of “good” and “bad” motherhood. Just as there is more than one way to turn a wildly popular theme-park ride into a movie (see Pirates of the Caribbean vs. The Haunted Mansion), there is more than one way to be a good mother.
Six Feet Under
Coming-of-age stories and fairy tales drive the Disney enterprise. The essential elements of these narratives are the discovery of autonomy and the ability to problem solve independently. A good mother, in the most traditional and patriarchal sense, is a nurturer, a selfless protector who puts the welfare of her children above all.
The freedom of an adventure-filled storyline for a child-like character flies directly in the face of what a “good” mother would allow. What sort of mother would okay her child’s exploration of dangerous situations without her help and company? But, for Disney, her help and company prevent an interesting story and emotional growth. So they have her removed or portrayed as a “bad” mother.
The classic example of a “good” mother’s removal, which has scarred countless generations, is Bambi. Bambi’s unnamed mother (one-dimensional props don’t need a name) displays all the characteristics one would expect in a 1942 movie. She is loving and provides a stern education on the dangers of Bambi’s world. It’s only after her death that Bambi’s character arch truly begins; he survives grief and finds love again, teaching the audience that “good” motherhood is an obstacle for real growth. In addition, the blatant fridging of Bambi’s mom feeds into the concept of female characters as nothing but motivation for a male lead.
Father Knows Best
If a proper mother is warm, nurturing, and selfless, then the opposite must be true of a horrible mother. She must be manipulative, controlling and selfish. These characteristics can all be used to describe King Triton, Ariel’s father in The Little Mermaid. However, you could hardly call him the villain of the movie. That honor is reserved for Ursula, the Sea-Witch (an absolutely fabulous antihero). But when those same qualities are found in a woman, she is without a doubt the antagonist of the piece.
This is the case in Tangled. Mother Gothel takes a page from the King Triton book on parenting and is (rightfully) portrayed as the big bad Rapunzel has to overcome before she’s able to complete her hero’s journey. In looking at the two movies side by side, the message is: when fathers attempt to control their daughters, it’s only out of love and caring. However, when mothers try to control their daughters, it is out of jealousy and egotism.
To add insult to (feminist) injury, Mother Gothel’s evil parenting deeds are in service of one of the greatest sins a female character can have — vanity. Society has spent decades telling women that their value comes from their physical appearance, yet it can’t wait to condemn those women who prize how they look. This is particularly true of mothers, who are expected to completely abandon self-care in favor of caring for others.
Married … With Children
Even those mothers who are not evil, vain creatures, or oddly missing, or dead, fit in with the traditional, supportive mother cliché. In The Princess and the Frog, Tiana’s mother Eudora encourages her daughter to try to have more fun. This form of support is necessary as Tiana is too serious, too focused on work to enjoy life. However, their interaction is still firmly within what we would expect a “good” mother to do.
The other exception is Sina, Moana’s mother. She takes on the peacemaker role as Moana faces off with her father. Once Sina realizes the dangerous journey her daughter is about to undertake, she helps her pack instead of standing in her way. This example only half counts though, since to arrive at this moment, Gramma Tala suddenly passes away. When you’re a mother in a Disney movie, you’re never safe, even if you’re a grandmother.
The exceptions prove the rule, as once again neither Eudora nor Sina have any sort of role outside of being caring, loving mothers. But both of their male counterparts have rich backstories and motivations. According to Disney, once a woman has experienced raising a child she no longer has or remembers a passion for anything else. Interestingly, in both cases, they are women of color; could this be the manifestation of another stereotype? Perhaps. It certainly plays into one of the boxes Hollywood is most comfortable sticking older women of color into, the understanding caretaker.
Think of the Children
In denying a middle ground between the traditional “good” and “bad” mother, these films fail to show mothers as more than just tools. They’re missing out on an opportunity for children to view and relate to their mothers in a whole new way, as people with their own goals and aspirations. But who cares if Disney does this? It’s not like millions of young children take away life lessons from watching the studio’s movies. Oh wait, they definitely do. Well, at least we still have Pixar.
