Actually, I do have a problem with a black Little Mermaid

First, let me start by saying Halle Bailey, who plays Ariel in Disney’s live action remake of “The Little Mermaid,” is drop-dead gorgeous, and any straight, red-blooded American man vehemently opposed to seeing her in a seashell bikini is a nut. But let’s see Bailey’s role in this film for what it is: she’s a young woman, barely out of her teen years, with idealized features and a Victoria’s Secret Angels figure. She looks great in a bikini. She can act, and judging by the trailer, she can certainly sing — making her the ideal candidate to play the lead role in a regressive story. Replacing a fair-skinned cartoon character with a young black woman doesn’t make the story “woke.” That’s undoubtedly what Disney wants its target audience to think — and it was a brilliant marketing strategy on their part.

In case you need a refresher, Disney’s classic animated film told the story of Ariel, a young mermaid who fervently believes the grass is greener on the other side — or in this case, on land. Sure, she wants to try out earthly delights like dancing on two feet. But, this being a Disney movie from the backlash years of the 1980s and early 1990s, her primary motive is: Some Guy. She spots Some Guy from afar and is willing to give up her own home and her own family in order to pursue him. But first, she has to give away pieces of herself, including her voice. Meanwhile, her love object, Prince Eric, doesn’t long for Ariel in particular, but any woman who has “that voice.” In fact, he readily abandons Ariel at a moment’s notice to marry some sleazy girl who lures him with “that voice.” The only way Ariel can win him back is by sabotaging the wedding and stealing back her voice to regain his interest.

It’s a horrifying story, really. This movie came out when I was five, and as much as I loved swimming in the neighborhood pool and pretending I was a mermaid, I sensed something was deeply troubling about this storyline. I was relieved when Disney gave us Princess Jasmine, a princess who won’t do anything to win over Some Guy, the following year. I decided I much preferred Jasmine’s role modeling, dressing up as Jasmine for Halloween in second grade. Ariel was pretty and had a nice voice, but she was a fool. She was willing to sacrifice her voice — as well as her loving father and six sisters — for a mediocre prince willing to change up on her without warning. She won the guy but lost her self-respect in the process.

Disney undoubtedly realizes this now. They started casting for the “Little Mermaid” remake in 2018, at the height of the #MeToo movement and Women’s Marches across the country. After the success of the live action “Beauty and the Beast” and its equally appalling storyline, Disney executives sat in the corporate board room, asking themselves, “How can we cash in on a Little Mermaid remake with all this feminism happening?” I have to hand it to Disney: at least they do their research and understand the thinking of their target audience. Most people buying tickets to “The Little Mermaid” would be Millennial women with young daughters. On one hand, many of these women loved this movie as kids, and their initial instinct would be delight at taking their own daughters to see it. On the other, these hip, modern women also remember the storyline is deeply anti-feminist. Teaching their own daughters to romanticize it wouldn’t comport with their “woke” self-image.

So Disney’s marketing team did the only thing they could do: they decided Ariel would be black. They would then wait for the inevitable backlash from Twitter morons lamenting about “political correctness,” ginning up and promoting the backlash as a selling point. Millennial mothers could now indulge their nostalgia for regressive Disney storylines while signaling their “anti-racist” bona fides. In other words, they could take their daughters to see this deeply anti-feminist movie while patting themselves on the back for “not seeing color” and embracing a cocoa-hued Ariel with supermodel features and a thin, idealized figure.

Well-played, Disney.

I don’t know how far the plot of the live action “Little Mermaid” diverges from the 1991 animated version. But my guess is: not very much. It certainly doesn’t end the way Hans Christen Andersen’s classic story ends, because that would mean Ariel doesn’t get married. In true Scandinavian fashion, Andersen’s story was sometimes morbid and sometimes terrifying. There are knives and blood involved. But the ending is bittersweet. Also in true Scandinavian fashion, it’s not a love story at all — it’s more of a morality tale about how “when one door closes, another opens.” The Little Mermaid walks away from the prince but ends up pursuing a new life as a Fairy of the Wind. At least, that’s what I remember. It’s been a while. However, I do know it’s one of few stories that made me cry bittersweet tears, because the moral is that sometimes you have to walk away from your romantic desires in order to keep your self-respect.

To date, I’ve only heard one person speculate on why Disney chose to make Ariel black, which isn’t part of a cynical marketing campaign to hip, progressive Boss Moms. Apparently, the live action movie takes place in the Caribbean Sea. The Caribbean is a diverse place, home to the descendants of black slaves and Indigenous people, as well as the descendants of European settlers from Spain, France, and Holland. It’s a beautiful place with its own unique culture, food, dance, and music. We got a glimpse of that in the animated movie. Cartoon characters with Caribbean accents sang clearly Caribbean-themed songs, including “Under the Sea” and “Kiss the Girl.” In fact, almost all of the sea creatures in the animated film were coded as black Caribbeans. Therefore, casting a black Ariel makes more sense than casting a fair-skinned, red-haired actress. I might not being seeing the movie with my 10-year-old daughter, but you can bet I’ll be downloading the songs. I’ll add it to my list of other upbeat music with influence from this unique, racially diverse part of the world.

Day 9.