Directed by: Bill Condon
Starring: Emma Watson, Dan Stevens, Luke Evans, Kevin Kline
Rated PG, 129 minutes
I can’t help thinking that the “controversy” regarding the inclusion of a gay character in “Beauty and the Beast” was the work of a masterful marketing team that wanted to frame the movie as a statement on gay rights (which it isn’t, by the way). However much the spirited reactions from liberals and conservatives alike actually affected ticket sales, the movie has quickly broken box office records, pulling in $350 million in its first weekend. Having now seen the movie, I understand its success: “Beauty and the Beast” has the hollow feel of a marketing ploy. It’s not a bad movie, but in a boardroom somewhere, someone is using the $10 I spent on my ticket to prove a point, and I resent that.
A remake of the 1991 cartoon musical, “Beauty and the Beast” takes us to the magical world of rural France, where the precocious Belle (Emma Watson, “Harry Potter”) spends her days reading, inventing, caring for her father (Maurice, played by Kevin Kline, “A Fish Called Wanda”), and daydreaming about living somewhere other than rural France. One day, Maurice is taken prisoner by a hideous beast living in a nearby castle, so Belle offers to take her father’s place. Now adjusting to life as a hostage, she learns that the beast (Dan Stevens, TV’s “Downton Abbey”) is actually a cursed prince, and that the household objects—a clock, a teapot, a candlestick, and so on—are his servants, all under a spell that Belle alone can break. Meanwhile, Maurice returns to the village to get help rescuing Belle, finding it in the form of the local vainglorious meathead, Gaston (Luke Evans, “The Girl on the Train”), who has particular designs on Belle. Eventually, as Belle becomes increasingly fond of the secluded castle and less homesick for the village, she finds the two worlds bracing for a collision, leaving her stuck in the middle.
Most notable are the film’s visual effects, which decorate virtually every frame. And it’s not just the musical numbers that get the effects treatment; half the major characters are enchanted objects, so most scenes have that special digital touch. Luckily for us, the effects are consistent, detailed, and fluid throughout the movie. This is a blockbuster that looks like one.
And with such high production value, who cares if the movie is actually good? It looks good, and that’s all you need. At least, that’s what Disney desperately wants us to think. Look at the cast list, which includes Josh Gad, Emma Thompson, Audra McDonald, Ewan McGregor, Ian McKellen, and Stanley Tucci, but ignore the acting. Sing along to the songs you know, but don’t worry about whether you can actually hear the lyrics in the soundtrack. Appease yourself with a message about how looks can be deceiving, but don’t apply that message to the movie itself. Come on, it’s Disney!
I don’t mean to get too cynical; it’s not like everyone is in on it. Emma Watson, in particular, brings to her role all the earnestness that you would expect from a U.N. goodwill ambassador. Unfortunately, she also brings a lot of stodgy awkwardness and uninteresting emoting. We are not watching Belle, we are watching Emma Watson as Belle, and it’s impossible to forget that she’s just an actress. Granted, the story of Belle is that of a smart girl in a stupid town who is mostly impressed by the beast because he knows how to read, so you can’t blame Watson for not completely selling the awe and wonder of it all.
Of course, even with a stronger performance from Watson, the movie’s sheer indulgence would still be hard to justify. So conscious is Disney of the desires of moviegoing families in 2017—you want your liberal hippie diversity and special effects and goofy supporting characters, and you got ’em—that the movie can’t shake its pandering tone. It wouldn’t be so aggravating if the moral of the story weren’t to look beyond appearances to find a person’s real substance, but “Beauty and the Beast” lets substance fall by the wayside, using dazzling attractions as a smokescreen while its producers laugh all the way to the bank, taking my $10 with them.
Originally published in The Harvard Press on 3/24/17.