A Beast of Manufactured Nostalgia

Rating: 8/10 (14 March 2017)

Disney continues its unprecedented line of rebooted, re-imagined, and refurbished live-action remakes with the new fangled Beauty and the Beast. And much like last year's Jungle Book (2015) and Pete's Dragon (2015) this one injects just as much chemical perfection into its innards as a robot arm would bestow a Twinkie. It's not a necessary movie per se. But its unabashed zeal and fidelity to the source material (the Disney-fied 1991 film not the Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont tome) has a certain giddiness to it; a certain manufactured innocence.
I'm sure we're all well versed by now on the self-described "Tale as Old as Time." A precocious Belle (Watson) falls in love with a surly Beast (Stevens) whose secret heart of gold is hidden underneath layers of loneliness, sadness and fur. There's an enchanted castle, a witch's curse, singing silverware, inexplicable walks through wintry forests without a coat - its basic fairy tale stuff really. Difference this time is Disney has carefully and lovingly set its story on its perch like butterfly taxidermy in frame. Most everything you remember from Beauty and the Beast (1991) is in this film, and everything you don't remember is just a tiny bit better.
What parts you may ask? Well arguably the best thing about Beauty and the Beast is the way it quietly updates the gender politics of the material and does so without feeling pushy or preachy. Much ado was made of the ultimately benign gay character that nearly everyone failed to notice the first (and second) bi-racial kiss in a Disney film. As for Belle, Paige O'Hara certainly had her moment as the progressive page-turning princess but Emma Watson's take on the character comes with a dream of traveling to the great white somewhere and (sort of) accomplishes it. Speaking of which, Watson positively runs away with this role; dawning natural sincerity while belting out gorgeous melodies like she's not even trying.
Do you remember Gaston? In the animated version, the vain hunter-in-chief of Belle's little town had all the charm of a nefarious, dark-haired Johnny Bravo. Here however Luke Evans's meat-headed take on the popular villain pops with campy fun. His interactions with LeFou (Gad), up to and including the song "Gaston," are easily the best parts of the movie.
Yet while these minor improvements are sure to win over the nostalgic, the case against Beauty and the Beast proves much more interesting, at least from a filmic perspective. First let's start with the added songs provided by B&B originator Alan Menken and replacement lyricist Tim Rice. While the songs do their best to slink underneath the film's major melodies, their lack of Howard Ashman's lyrical wordplay and effortless charm clash like burlap underneath layers of purple satin.
Additionally Bill Condon's persnickety attention to detail works for the mechanics of the film to the detriment of the narrative. Every cut, every structural progression, feels stiflingly familiar, and can't help but make everything look paler when compared to the original. Considering the way the film was shot and cut, the middling filler looks presentable while the big scenes all seem overwhelmed by clutter. This is most evident in "Be Our Guest," when Lumiere (McGregor) our photo-realistic French candelabra fills the screen with gauche CGI chaos. It is at that moment I realized; the best part of the 1991 version is the worst part about this one.
Yet despite, its various faults, I can't help but admire this posh little remake. It's a begrudging admiration, like the kind of ambivalence I increasingly feel towards Marvel movies. Only unlike Marvel, which tricks you into thinking you haven't seen all this before, Disney live-action remakes all but announce you've seen this all before, only you shouldn't care. It looks like we'll have to wait a little bit longer before killing this beast.