Flak Magazine: Review of Enchanted, 11-28-07

The latest in Walt Disney Pictures' long line of cinematic fairy tales, Enchanted seems destined to charm any young girl's heart with a potent elixir of princes and princesses, single dads and fun new moms, gold cards on Fifth Avenue and production numbers in Central Park. But for parents, at least, nothing preemptively breaks the spell like reading in a recent Wall Street Journal article of the pressure the company faces "to keep its $4 billion princess franchise growing." With apologies to Simon and Garfunkel: Where have you gone, Cinderella? ("Straight to the bank," she flutters).

As inevitable as a daycare flu or a four-year-old boy's gun obsession, "the princess thing" is a rite of passage for every young girl, and for the moms and dads who must endure it. Poofy dresses, wands and tiaras are only the beginning; princessing involves a plunge into retrograde role-play to make Simone de Beauvoir turn in her grave and send even the most indulgent of parents scrambling for a cootie shot. Granted, although the term "princessing" is relatively recent, the phenomenon itself is hardly new; little girls have demanded royal treatment since time immemorial. But the past few years have seen a dramatic increase in the bared-arms race with a full-bore marketing push by one of the world's most powerful entertainment brands, the very definition of asymmetrical warfare against those who would prefer more empowered role models for their daughters.

Into this dismal and distressing setting steps Giselle (Amy Adams), sweeter than honey and certified feminism-free. Cast as a mild send-up of the Disney classics, the cel animated opening of Enchanted is no Shrek; the saccharine singing and cuddly woodland creatures may have been dialed up from 10 to 11, but to an adult's cynical eye, what's more striking is how close the parodic apple has fallen to the tree (and yes, there will be poisoned apples in this one, too). At the same time, the characters are undeniably appealing — Giselle's suitor, the dashingly slow-witted Prince Edward (James Marsden); his duplicitous squire Nathaniel (Timothy Spall); Pip the chipmunk; not to mention Giselle herself. In fact, in the early going, quality of execution is much in the film's favor to belay a rush to judgment, if it's not already too late.

As a tween fantasy worthy of the mightiest think tank, Enchanted is both a full-dress Prince Charming fairy tale and a love letter to New York City. Thus, Giselle and Edward's newly minted love is quickly thwarted by evil stepmother Queen Narissa (Susan Sarandon), who banishes the bride to "a place with no happily-ever-afters": a gritty, live-action Times Square. Battered by rudeness and rain, she stumbles through the night, the farthest from water a fish has been since Daryl Hannah in Splash, until finally and literally tumbling into the arms of Robert (Patrick Dempsy), a divorced divorce attorney who has dedicated his life to the eradication of romantic ideals from his own life and from the mind of his six-year-old daughter Morgan (Rachel Covey).

It's hardly a spoiler to reveal that the balance of the evening will be spent watching these two fall in love, with Prince Edward and Nathaniel bumbling in close pursuit, Queen Narissa cackling evilly and Pip and various other animals providing comic relief. What's more surprising is how well it all works, from the chemistry among the principals to numerous startling and funny sight gags to the dilemma posed by Robert's long-waiting girlfriend Nancy (Idina Menzel), whose fate to be left hanging seems incompatible with the promised happy ending. If Sarandon's climactic dragon turn is less Fantasia than perfunctory, there's still no denying the romance of the costumed ball atop the gothic Woolworth Building or the chills of the clock striking twelve.

Perfectly embodied by Adams, Giselle's otherworldly naïveté and charm cast such a spell on those around her — New Yorkers, beasts and insects alike — that Robert, at her side in the center of the maelstrom, is increasingly displaced from his own thoroughly magic-free worldview. Functioning as a stand-in for every grumpy dad in the darkened seats, his resistance is irreparably undermined by an extended song-and-dance set piece in Central Park that sends the movie into delirious overdrive and rivals anything old Walt could have produced in his prime. Giselle's dogged romanticism breathes new life into every relationship she touches, from Robert's most acrimonious divorce case to his own stale partnership with Nancy to bench-sitting old men and women (and perhaps a few over-parented pairs in the theater as well).

So far, so sappy — but there's more to Enchanted than encomiums on the power of love. At the same time Giselle is reawakening Robert's slumbering heart, her own is slowly growing in sophistication. Sparring in his Upper West Side apartment, she discovers that even a damsel in distress has both the right and the power to be assertive about her beliefs. As the two come together, she discovers that falling in love doesn't mean giving yourself over to the first guy with sapphire eyes who rides up the forest path. In a darker moment, she also begins to sense that not every fairy tale romance is destined for a happily ever after. Ultimately, Giselle discovers, as do we, that she may be a sap, but she's nobody's fool.

Yes, Enchanted is as princessy as they come; the film even includes a shameless product placement for the kind of full-service princess boutique now offered at Disney World. But by the time the lights come up, the question must be asked: How evil a spell is this, really? Given the awesome marketing firepower directed at today's little consumers by brands from Barbie to Bratz, you could do worse than having your daughter indoctrinated to emulate Giselle.

— J. Daniel Janzen (dan at clownyard dot com)