The Princess and the Frog

If you're not already cringing, Neporent goes on to detail the additional health hazards of making out with turtles, puppies and kittens. And Anna North at Jezebel has a cautionary tale about playing with dead lizards. "[I]nstead of a fairy tale ending, all I got was really, really sick," she writes. "While the maxim that you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince may be lame as a metaphor, it's even worse when taken literally." Point taken.

Is it really fair to blame this on Princess Tiana, though? I mean, the Grimms started it (in print, anyway) in the early 1800s, and if that annoying dating maxim weren't still so ubiquitous, this movie might never have been made. Neporent says at least 50 little girls have ended up in the ER thanks to "an amphibious lip lock" recently, but I wonder how much that differs from any other year. Between the well-known frog-kissing legend and normal childhood fascination with small, slimy creatures, I'd be surprised if there's been a huge spike.

But to the extent that children's media does influence their behavior, at least we can be grateful that Disney didn't go with the original story. In an annotated version of "The Frog Prince," Heidi Anne Heiner of Sur la Lune Fairy Tales points out that "The earliest versions of the story have the princess committing an act of violence which breaks the spell instead of the now famous kiss. Most often the frog is thrown against the wall, but in some versions he is beheaded or his skin is burnt." That's ... less appealing. Of course, so is getting potentially fatal bacteria all over your lips. So maybe this is one time when giving into your kid's demands for a movie tie-in toy is a really good idea.

In Jazz Age-era New Orleans, young Tiana works double shifts as a waitress to fulfill her dream (and her beloved late father's) of opening up a restaurant. She scrimps, she passes up socializing with her friends, and just when she seems a hairsbreadth away from making it happen, the local realtors tell the African-American beauty that they won't be doing business with "a woman of your background."

Meanwhile, Prince Naveen, a handsome visitor from a fictional country where men speak in ethnically indeterminate accents, has been cut off from his fortune. He's in town to dance, woo the ladies, and find himself a rich bride to assume his debts. But when a visit to the nefarious voodoo "shadow man" Dr. Facilier (Keith David) becomes a teachable moment and transforms him -- and, soon after, Tiana -- into frogs, these two kids from different worlds are going to have to work together to reverse the spell.

Voicing their characters with aplomb and remarkable chemistry for an animated film, "Dreamgirls'" Anika Noni Rose and Brazilian actor Bruno Campos have a light, easy rapport. As they drift through the swamps together, searching for priestess Mama Odie to help them become human again, they bicker and squabble with classic screwball timing. She's the uptight practical one who's hiding her heart; he's the irresistible rake. And you can tell, via the splendidly rich animation and the appeal of the two performers, the exact moment those darn frogs fall hopelessly in love.

Fairy-tale princesses, especially those in the Disney pantheon, have always been a product of their times. Generations ago, it was enough for them to be hardworking and docile, to accept suffering with grace and fall into deep sleeps when the plot required it. It was revolutionary when "Beauty and the Beast's" Belle came along in 1991, with her love of books and her disdain for the handsomest guy in town. Tiana takes the princess role a step further -- she's not just Disney's first African-American to wear the crown, she's the first one with a regular job. (Unless you count Mulan's gig as a warrior.) She also, like "Ratatouille's" Remy, makes the case for great food as a social leveler and the cornerstone of a good life. Tiana knows that food "brings people together" with more reliable results than even voodoo.

But the strides here aren't just for princesses. Those Charming Guys of bygone days have traditionally been even less interesting than the ladies they rescue. Campos makes his Naveen such a cocky player that he doesn't stop seducing even when he's turned green and asks for just one kiss ... "unless you beg for more." He's a spoiled rich guy who needs to grow up, and the movie is just as much about his journey as it is about Tiana's.

And what a felicitous spot to take that journey. The Crescent City, in all her early 20th-century glory, shines like a jewel here: an enchanted, lively, multicultural town full of bright blossoms and infectious songs. As they say in the movie, "Dreams come true in New Orleans." Randy Newman, who wrote the score, does a bang-up job of paying tribute to the city's rich musical heritage in a series of colorful, trippy numbers. There's a jazzy Armstrong-like song (featuring a crocodile named Louis), a gospel-tinged showstopper, a zydeco throwdown, and a boogie-woogie paean to the town sung by Dr. John.

Surely it's no accident, either, that a movie delicately addressing race makes stirring use of light and dark interplay. A G-rated girl film that will move crazy amounts of dolls and lunchboxes may not have an in-your-face political agenda, nor should it. But the glow of streetcars, the light glinting off stars and fireflies in the night sky -- the way that every element, every shade, is more beautiful in context of the other -- that is some powerful, lovely stuff. And you don't have to be 5 years old to be captivated by it.

Tiana (voiced by "Dreamgirls" actress Anika Noni Rose) is a 1920’s-era aspiring chef working in New Orleans, who via a bit of magical misfortune gets turned into a croaky amphibian. And, like Mulan and Jasmine and Pocahontas before her, Tiana bears the weight of representing her whole darn race. As the New York Times reported on Sunday, not everybody is rejoicing over how the fairy tale is unfolding. Writer William Blackburn says that "Disney should be ashamed" of setting the story in the Big Easy, home of "one of the most devastating tragedies to beset a black community." Other critics have taken issue with Tiana’s Prince Naveen, a light-skinned character voiced by Brazilian actor Bruno Campos.

It’s not like Disney's previous track record on race is anything to brag about: Check out "Song of the South" or the crows from "Dumbo" for starters. As antiracistparent.com says, "It’s important to get Tiana right on the first (and probably only) shot." So a movie whose trailer (posted below) features tap dancing and voodoo is sure to spark raised eyebrows. Tiana has already undergone a few magical transformations -- she was originally a maid named Maddy, a choice ultimately deemed too close to the historically loaded moniker Mammy (a controversy Judy Berman wrote about last July). Before the movie’s holiday opening, the movie will likely undergo whatever further changes it needs to in order to make her as culturally sensitive and profit-friendly as possible.

Because the thing about a Disney princess movie is that it’s first and foremost a Disney princess movie. Tiana doesn’t look so much like a black role model as a blandly pretty, made-to-be-emblazoned-on-pillowcases Disney dreamgirl -- the wide eyes, the almost unnervingly bright smile and the fantasy dress.

A few weeks ago, I took my five-year-old daughter to a birthday party. Every other child in the room was African-American or Latina, and almost all of them were wearing a Disney-issued white girl’s face on their chests. They played together in a room festooned with images of Belle and Cinderella. They danced in blonde Hannah Montana wigs. And as one parent observed, "We’ve got to give these girls something other than Dora or the Bratz."

Whatever the princess’s color, most parents I know have an ambivalent relationship to the whole Disney juggernaut anyway, watching our girls clamor for the latest pink mountain of hype. Nor are we thrilled with having them identify with big-breasted, uncomplaining doormats whose main talent seems to be falling asleep for long periods of time. But our daughters worship them anyway -- the crowns, the gowns, the romance. That Disney has created them a princess with dark skin is a decent start. That she also has a brain and a job is, in its own way, just as revolutionary.