My Childhood, Day Five: The Power of Choice Represented in Disney's "Mulan"

*I have decided to dedicate this week (one blog entry a day) to a revisiting of my favorite and most memorable aspects from childhood. Whether they were manifested in cartoons, films, or television shows, their memories have continued to stay with me, even long after I got older and abandoned them for other "mature" forms of entertainment. This is not to say that they have shaped or changed my life in dramatic ways, but they have served as feel-good reminders for the simple, good ol' days. It's not bad to reminisce, not at all, and I think that it is important to do so. Nostalgia, I believe, is like meditation: simplifying complicated matters in adulthood into a single breath of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

I think it is common knowledge that Disney=childhood. We are brought up with the classics, including "Snow White," "Aladdin," and "The Lion King," as well as with Disney Channel shows and merchandise. Most importantly, we are raised on Disneyland, the so-called "Happiest Place on Earth." I have yet to know someone who has not been to Disneyland before. But because of Disney, we are taught to believe that any dream is possible, that any obstacle is surmountable through perseverance, originality, and audacity. They are not bad aspects (not at all!), but I feel that Disney contradicts itself in some cases, particularly with its princesses.

Don't get me wrong. I adore Princess Aurora from "Sleeping Beauty." Although she was naive and a bit ditsy, her careful nature is reminiscent of our own simple childhood, devoid of responsibility and all about enjoying life. However, I felt that the story, in addition to those of Snow White's, Belle's, Ariel's, Jasmine's, and Pocahontas's were passive affairs. Basically, these princesses waited for their princes to come and save them from the rut routine of their lives. They do not choose to take charge. Definitely not one for the feminists. 

Also, if you want to get into racial politics, the Disney princesses has been predominately Caucasian. It was not until the introduction of Jasmine in 1992's "Aladdin" that the company started to diversify with its characters. Yet, some race critics have slammed the images of these characters. Some have blasted the portrayal of Jasmine, who was deemed too "sexualized" as a role model for young girls. Pocahontas has also been criticized for exoticizing Native Americans, with the character wearing so-called "traditional Native American" (but revealing) clothing and doing all of these spirit-calling rituals in the film.

However, with Mulan, you find something different. Although she has not been considered an official Disney princess, her actions and heroism earns her a level of respect, in my book. The film never planned to tell the actual story of Hua Mulan, the legend in the Chinese poem "The Ballad of Mulan." Like the case with "Pocahontas," Disney meant to bring light to these different cultures, giving the audiences a glimpse, but certainly not a historical lesson.

Reception for the character of Mulan has been majorly positive, praising her character as independent and heroic. Instead of waiting for the prince to save her, she saves him, along with their entire kingdom. Simply put, Mulan kicks ass.

I remember first watching the movie in theaters, but I didn't stay for the whole thing, because I was crying for my mom to take us home. I don't know whether it was the loud, bombastic score or the fighting scenes, but I felt afraid. I was a weird kid.

But as I got older, I watched it again, and in its entirety. The more times that I watched, the more that I appreciated it. My appreciation with "Mulan" evolved in several stages: I appreciated the entertainment value at age eight. I appreciated the cultural aesthetics at age eleven. Finally, I appreciated the feminism/women empowerment issue that the film hoped to portray, at age fourteen. I learned something new from each viewing. It made me question my status as a young, Asian-American female: should I choose to pursue my passion, even if it involves risks and defies tradition? Or should I honor the wishes of my family, who wish nothing but the best for me? There is a cultural clash between these two, and there are nuances to both sides of the debate. What "Mulan" presents to the female audience is choice, which had not been seen in previous works.

All seriousness aside, I enjoyed the entertainment value of the film as well. As a child, you don't watch a movie for the sake of critiquing it. You watch it because it is fun. Comic reliefs, including Mushu and Mulan's grandma, are worth a laugh, and the songs are ridiculously catchy ("Someday I'll/make a man/out of you..."). I have the soundtrack on my iPod. Sometimes I'll imagine that I'm Lea Salonga and (attempt to) belt out "Reflection" like a bamf. But never successfully.