karen.schwalm@gcmail.maricopa.edu
The Lion King, the latest Disney animated epic, is, in the words of Roy Disney, a tale "with strong moral themes." Don Hahn, the movie's producer, calls it "essentially a love story between a father and son," and Jeffrey Katzenberg, chairman of The Walt Disney Studios, claimed it was about "the responsibility we have as torchbearers from one generation to the next." Most of the critics whose reviews appear on one of the several Lion King Web pages laud the innovative computer-generated animations and realistic portrayals of animal movement, the wildly-expressive voices of James Earl Jones and Whoopi Goldberg, the dramatic depiction of the African landscape, the stirring musical score created by Elton John, especially the Academy Award-winning "Can't You Feel the Love Tonight," and then go on to compare the movie to Hamlet in the importance of its themes or to Bambi in terms of its enduring appeal for children of all ages. Indeed, the movie addresses in one way or another all of the important contemporary dilemmas: bravery, responsibility, vulnerability, preparedness, stewardship, faith, science, the importance of history, family and the environment. In these days of personal uncertainty and political cynicism, The Lion King provides clear moral guidance wrapped up in an entertaining and wholesome shell. Who wouldn't be delighted that children and their parents love it, and that revenues are growing?
The movie broke all records its first weekend, grossing $42 million. Since then, waves of little children and their compliant parents, in what has become the accepted marketing spectacle accompanying blockbuster movies, have spent millions of dollars more on an assortment of aligned products: T-shirts, Mylar balloons, bedsheets, party ware, lion soap-on-a rope, action figures, crayons, the soundtrack (on tape or CD), sunglasses, notebooks, folders, backpacks and lunch boxes. Indeed children found Lion King finger puppets in their Kiddie Meals from Burger King, and their parents ordered hand-numbered, limited edition, "The Circle of Life" collector plates ("7 1/2" in diameter and encircled by a gleaming band of 22-karat gold" from the Bradford Exchange) for a mere $29.90 plus $3.49 postage and handling. In March, Disney flooded the home video market with copies of the movie (at about $10 per), making it possible for every elementary school child to learn "Hakuna Matata" along with his or her multiplication tables. So in addition to moral lessons about loyalty and responsibility, The Lion King also teaches young children and their parents to be good American consumers. But to assume that these are the movie's only lessons, or even its most important ones, seriously underestimates the extent to which Hollywood both embodies and mirrors the beliefs and feelings of people in the rest of the country, especially their uncertainties and anger.
This movie both reflects and shapes our cultural consciousness about contemporary social and political change, speaking forcefully to the question of who should hold power and how people should acquire it. The movie reinforces hierarchy, especially primogeniture, in nearly all of its 26 scenes, either through what the characters say, how they are displayed, or both. The message presented at every turn is that we are better off with our traditional leadership, that those individuals are both wise and benevolent, protecting the health and welfare of all members of the group, even the most vulnerable. At the same time, the movie attacks those outside the traditional group of leaders who rise to power "illegitimately," showing us how they are inherently unfit to hold positions of authority and can bring disaster down upon all of us. The Lion King, even though it is an American movie, does not promote what we might have come to think of as "American" values, those which support meritocracy and democracy. Finally, the movie reinforces the submissive and passive role of the citizen. At a time when we might consider democracy to be challenged, The Lion King doesn't make a strong case for inclusion, diversity and broader political participation. In fact, it does just the opposite, arguing essentially from an aristocratic position for the return to old-fashioned values and maintenance of the status quo.
Scene 1 of the movie depicts all the animals on the African savannah gathering to pay tribute to the new heir, Simba. The lyrics of "The Circle of Life" present life as overwhelming, explaining why we need our traditional leaders: "There's more to see than can ever be seen/More to do than can ever be done. . . . /It's the Circle of Life/And it moves us all/Through despair and hope/Through faith and love/Till we find our place/On the path unwinding." One by one, the critical characters are introduced and their "places" are identified. Mufasa, the majestic patriarch, watches from the point of Pride Rock while his loyal subjects gather below for the presentation of his new-born son. Zazu, the horn-bill, appears first and clarifies his role, first as the most-loyal subject by bowing low, and then as Mufasa's trusted advisor, allowing him unusual familiarity with the king, although he always refers to him as "sire." While the assembled zebras part and bow down, making a path for Rafiki, the old shaman, he is embraced by Mufasa, treated with the deference and respect usually accorded a society's senior priests. His first action is to anoint the young Simba, to validate him as the heir apparent, and to present him to the crowd assembled below.
As in many of the scenes in The Lion King, the music and visuals carry messages as important as the dialogue. In this first scene, for example, there is no conversation. Instead the message of class difference is conveyed through the different levels on which characters appear. Throughout the movie, those with power appear above those who are powerless; for example, the most powerful characters are usually up on ledges, and those who are vulnerable are down on the valley floor. Mufasa gazes down upon the mass of animals gathering below him; Pride Rock, his "throne," is the highest point in the Pride Lands. Camera angle also tells us about power relationships, close-up for those in power, panoramas and long shots for the mass of undifferentiated animals who have no status. The change in the complexity of the musical arrangement, the drop from a full orchestral arrangement, in which there is little differentiation between instruments, to a instrumental solo as the scene moves from the group of subjects to the single important character, identifies to whom we should shift our attention. In this first scene, lest the youngest among us miss all these clues, Simba is highlighted by a sunbeam as Rafiki holds him up before the mass of animals, who then, cued by this natural sign of individuation, howl and stamp their feet in approval and bow down in a mass display of obeisance.
The problems of hierarchy, legitimacy, and power are explored in Scene 2 in which Scar is introduced. His first line, and ironically the first piece of dialogue, may be thought of as a basic premise of the movie: "Life's not fair, is it?" (Much of what currently upsets conservatives are attempts to achieve social, political and economic "fairness" by such legislative means as affirmative action, guaranteed health insurance, easier voter registration, the minimum wage, and a host of additional government regulations.) The scene explores the sources of "unfairness:" differences in physical size or strength, differences in lineage or position, and differences in cleverness or intelligence. Obviously, the mouse is vulnerable in this scene because he is small, but he is saved by a Zazu whose power derives initially from his ability to distract Scar. When Zazu is threatened in turn, he is rescued by Mufasa, who just orders Scar to drop the bird. Mufasa's authority comes from his position as king, which Scar questions by not attending Simba's presentation, but his power comes, according to Scar, from "Brute Strength." Scar's power, by his own admission, derives from his "brains."
Some critics have argued that Scar's accent, tone of voice, appearance, movement and word choice ("curtsy," "shallow end of the gene pool") suggest that he is homosexual, and that his role as supreme villain attests to powerful strains of homophobia in our cultural consciousness. Those who have focused on these features of his characterization point out that Scar rises to power through unnatural means, including deceit and fratricide, and that his "administration" results in the near-destruction of the Pride Lands and the potential extinction or exile of all the animals. They also point to Zazu's sympathetic comment to Mufasa that "there's one in every family," and lambaste his (albeit mocking) suggestion that Scar be reduced to a useless ornament ("a handsome throw rug") which would permit Mufasa to "take him out and beat him . . . whenever he gets dirty." Some viewers have argued that this interpretation resides "in the eye of the beholder" and not "in the movie," but cultural critics would point out that texts reflect as well as shape our cultural consciousness and can invoke an audience as well as address one already identified. Adding another dimension to the question of legitimacy, it is curious that although they are brothers, Mufasa speaks with an American accent and Scar's is clearly identifiable as British (hence "illegitimate" or "foreign" in contemporary American society).
Lest we forget the issue here, Scene 3 follows to remind us that Simba is the legitimate heir by virtue of his class and lineage, that he has been presented to his subjects and then anointed in a public ceremony, with the event now recorded for posterity in a cave painting (the movie's version of a public record or historical document). What follows (in Scene 4) is another argument for hierarchy and patriarchy, this time derived from nature. In this father-son encounter (Sarabi recedes into the background here; women clearly are secondary yet numerous, generally unnamed, and lacking influence in this culture), Mufasa explains how what they "own" is defined and measured by natural processes ("Everything the light touches is our kingdom." "A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun."). Just as we can infer from Scene 2 that illegitimate power is unnatural, so we learn here that legitimate power is organic, harmonious, predictable and regular, attuned with the natural order of birth and death and based on respect for all species. The succession, to occur in some distant future, is already determined, and in this father-son colloquy, Mufasa emphasizes the orderliness of it all.
The movie makes use of our cultural knowledge of nature. There are numerous references to being higher or lower on the food chain, and selection of animals and their characterizations make use of the actual qualities of the animals. The warthog, for example, is an ugly African pig that usually travels in small family groups (much like the trio of Pumbaa, Timon and Simba). They are indiscriminate eaters and often use the burrows created by other animals. Hyenas, in addition to having a weird howl, are scavengers, feeding on the carrion left behind by other animals. Even the weather in this movie reflects what is going on in the plot: clouds stream across the sky when conflict threatens, the winds of change blow when the plot turns, and the sunrises and sunsets flash by in rapid succession to signal the passage of time.
The movie also depends on our knowledge of human development, especially the behavior of the young. The jaunty "I Just Can't Wait to Be King" (Scene 7) shows just how immature and incomplete the young Simba's understanding of the responsibilities of leadership is. To him, preparation for kingship is limited to "brushing up on looking down" and "working on his ROAR," and the primary benefits of the job are being able to ignore orders from others, being free to "run around all day" and "do it all [his] way." Coupled with "Hakuna Matata" (Scene 14), another bouncy carpe diem number that emphasizes just how alienated from work and his adult responsibilities Simba has become as he drifts around the African plains with Pumbaa and Timon, we can see how unsuited Simba is for the role of king. Even Nala recognizes (in Scene 20) that that the older Simba is somehow less mature than she expected he would be, and yet she falls in love with him anyway, restoring "the perfect harmony" alluded to in the lovely ballad, "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" While a psychological interpretation of the movie would move through these scenes, showing how Simba eventually comes to take his leadership responsibilities more seriously, a cultural analysis finds them more problematic, for these are the songs we hum as we leave the theater and the lyrics we sing under our breath without thinking about the values they promote. The context may be ironic in the movie, but we forget that quickly enough.
In Scene 4, Mufasa carefully explains to his son that there is land beyond their authority, an area to the north that Simba calls "the shadowy place," and one role of the king is to make sure the borders are not breached. The Pride Lands are economically healthy and ecologically sound in part because the scavenging hyenas ("those slobbering, mangy, stupid poachers") are excluded, relegated to the colorless Elephant Graveyard where there is neither sufficient food nor water to sustain them. When they take over the Pride Lands in league with Scar, they destroy the "balance of nature" and the land withers; their presence nearly destroys the entire society. Some critics have suggested that selecting Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin, and Jim Cummings as the voices of Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed, the three speaking hyenas, reflects a variety of racist and ethnic biases; Mark Leeper notes, "Outwardly the film has a love of African rhythms and language and yearns for a united world--everyone but hyenas united. But the core is justa bit ugly and scary." The Pride Lands has, in effect, its own Proposition 187. While its borders are not impermeable, the hyenas are prevented from any role but that of scavenger.
Perhaps Scene 10 ('Be Prepared') presents the most troubling picture of the hyenas and their pact with Scar. Set in the hyena cave where it is dark and gray, the scene opens with Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed licking their wounds (both figuratively and literally) after Mufasa has saved Simba from their clutches in the Elephant Graveyard. They clearly are out of control: Ed is laughing hysterically and chewing on his own back leg, unaware that it is his own, and Banzai and Shenzi are castigating lions in general and boosting their own morale in the process. They are momentarily startled when Scar appears, but unlike Mufasa, he presents no threat to them because he has no real power. Indeed, during this scene he reveals to the hyenas and to the viewers his general plan to kill Mufasa and Simba and assume the throne himself. The song's refrain "Be Prepared!" ironically echoes the Boy Scout motto as hundreds of hyenas, singing "in tight, crisp phrasing and enunciation," goose-step past in tight military formation, fires casting their eerie shadows against the walls of the cave and a crescent moon (looking at first like a hammer and sickle) appearing high above the cavern walls. Obviously Scar views the hyenas as "thick," "crude and unspeakably plain," with deficient "powers of retention" and "vacant expressions," yet he promises them that if they support him in his efforts to wrest power from Mufasa, they will "never go hungry again." Scar has contempt for his accomplices, even while he enlists their aid. Contrasting these miscreants with the wise, patient patriarch stacks the deck.
Not surprisingly, The Lion King makes use of many religious images and echoes, affirming faith and folklore while rejecting science. Beginning with the baptism of Simba in the opening scene, the movie is full of familiar rituals. In Scene 9, for example, just after Mufasa has chastised Simba for disobeying him, he explains the mystery of the stars to his son: "The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars. . . .just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I." Indeed, Simba repeats this explanation to Timon and Pumbaa at the end of Scene 16 (although Timon translates it into "You mean a bunch of royal dead guys are watching us?" and dismisses Simba's explanation in favor of his own, that the stars are fireflies "stuck up on that big bluish-black thing."), although he is troubled by the memories of his father's promise.
After Nala finds Simba and urges him to return to save the Pride from sure destruction, Simba bitterly addresses the stars and his father, "You said you'd always be there for me." This crisis of faith, in Scene 20, continues until Rafiki forces him to look in the pool where he sees the face of Mufasa emerge from the clouds. Mufasa says sadly, "Simba. You have forgotten me." When Simba cries that he is not who he used to be, Mufasa admonishes him, "You are my son, the true king." Finally, after Simba vanquishes Scar and the Pride Lands are consumed by fire and then cleansed by the rains, Mufasa appears again in the heavens with a single word, "Remember." In fact, Simba has become the savior, restoring the Pride Lands and saving the lives of the animals. Even Christianity seems to support the restoration of "The Circle of Life."
Of course, this is not the way an allegory of the modern egalitarian and inclusive society should conclude. The story should end, as Scar implies it will in Scene 12, with the lions and hyenas coming together "in a great and glorious future," one in which everyone has enough to eat, a role to play, and an equal say in the governance of the Pride. In the new society, the border between the Pride Lands and the Elephant Graveyard would disappear, the hyenas would be transformed into productive members of a global society, contributing their efforts in promoting the welfare of the whole group, and Scar would learn how to be a wise leader, making sure that no one was taxed beyond his or her ability or left needy. Future leaders would emerge from the Pride based on merit, not birth.
Some readers will object to this analysis, arguing that The Lion King is a children's movie after all and shouldn't be interpreted as speaking to adult issues. But what is a children's movie, if not one that transmits the dominant values of the culture to young children in an entertaining manner, while at the same time confirming those values for adults. This movie addresses an important social issue that affects children, in their schools, churches, parks and neighborhoods. Unfortunately, it suggests that excluding people because their appearance or their heritage or their habits differ from those of the people in power is an acceptable social and political policy, one supported by tradition, history, and religion. The Lion King sugar-coats a bitter and powerful message about patriarchy, legitimacy and hierarchy.
Others, my teen-aged daughter among them, argue that this kind of cultural analysis (in fact, any close analysis at all) ruins the entertainment value of the movie, forcing us to confront all kinds of unpleasant truths when we are expecting merely to be entertained. Granted that I see more layers of meaning every time I view the movie or listen to the music or read the script, but I still find the musical score stirring, the animations fanciful, and the antics of Timon and Pumbaa engaging. Just because we become aware of the multiple levels of meaning doesn't mean that we have to deny the aesthetic appeal of this creation. I am reminded of a greeting card I bought several years ago that shows a painter trapped in the corner of a room by a freshly painted floor. The outside of the card reads, " Sure I've painted myself into a corner. . . ." Inside it says, "But did you notice how neat the brushstrokes are?" In this instance, even if we know we are being exploited, manipulated, and alienated, we can't help but admire how WELL they do it!
Please send comments to Karen Schwalm karen.schwalm@gcmail.maricopa.edu
April 26, 1995