I Wear a Fez Now. Fezzes Are Cool.

I have to admit, I kind of wish the lamp on my desk contained an awesome blue dude who could sing, dance, and, ya know, turn me into a pseudo-prince with an awesome elephant so I could win the heart of the girl of my dreams.  Am I shooting to high? 

Aladdin was one of my all-time favorites growing up.  It was definitely my favorite at one point, and in the end probably only was surpassed by The Lion King II, and today Aladdin has reclaimed first place in my heart (not that I think it’s perfect; we’ll get to that in a second). 

The driving force of the plot itself is Jafar and his over-talkative parrot Iago.  Jafar, the Saltan’s advisor, has

a plan to overthrow the Saltan by obtaining a magical lamp, which we eventually find contains the genie.  We witness one of these attempts at the beginning of the film, when a thug enters the live cave and is swallowed alive when he touches the other treasure.  The mysterious cave-beast then says he must bring “The diamond in the rough.”  Enter Aladdin: abused street rat with a dream to be someone different.  After he’s found with the princess and imprisoned on counts of kidnapping, Jafar, disguised as an old prisoner, leads him back to the monstrous cave (don’t worry, I’ll get to Aladdin and Jasmine’s story in a minute).  Aladdin manages to get the lamp, but when Abu gets greedy and goes for some of the gold, the cave closes in on him. 

Thankfully, Aladdin figures out the lamp and tricks the eccentric genie into getting him out voluntarily (who then reprimands him, saying “No more freebies”).  Through a long series of events, Jafar schemes to get Jasmine to marry him, who is horrified and refuses.  Jafar eventually gets his hands on the lamp and turns the kingdom into a living nightmare and with his magic (Jafar being a sorcerer himself) sends Aladdin far away.  Aladdin, undeterred, walks back and defeats Jafar, and they all live happily ever after.

Before I start in on a heavy criticism of the film’s finer details, I want to spend some time talking about Aladdin and Jasmine’s story.

When Aladdin and Jasmine meet, Aladdin saves her life (or at least her hand).  He subsequently shows her around and the two are quickly falling for each other when the palace guards swing in and take her back and throw Aladdin in prison under the guise of kidnapping.  When he gets back out with the help of the genie and marches into town as a prince, Jasmine, not knowing that he is the same man, is less than enthusiastic.  But, through his persistent efforts, and the help of a magic carpet, he is able to win her heart once again, and through a lot more work than the first time through. 

So, that covers the plot.  Now comes the criticism.  I did say that this film was one of my favorites.  That does not mean, however, that it gets any special treatment.  There are a few problems with the film.

First, there is a moral conundrum: how immoral is stealing, really?  Aladdin is portrayed as an abused unfortunate homeless boy, while the vendors that he is stealing from are portrayed as stringent, selfish mongrels with an overabundance of product and no room in their hearts for pity.  No one stops to ask “What about the vendors?” because Aladdin is the victim and they are the abusers.  I might feel differently about this point if Aladdin were remorseful for his stealing, or even admitted that it was a necessary evil for him to survive; but instead, he and Abu make a sport out of it. 

Secondly, the portrayal of Jasmine’s father, the unnamed Saltan, is beyond horrifying.  Instead of the father figure being a strong leader, protector, and guardian of his daughter and of the country, he is a weak pushover whose very demeanor is about as masculine as a tutu.  In contrast, Jasmine is strong, independent, and ambitious.  I don’t have a problem with Jasmine’s character.  What I do have a problem with is her father and her in comparison.  Between the two, it is Jasmine who possesses the masculine characteristics.  We have enough gender confusion in our society as is, we don’t need effeminate fathers contributing to it.

My third negative is not so much a criticism of Aladdin itself as it is a criticism of the portrayal of love in film in general, but I believe it to be a valid criticism nonetheless.  When Aladdin is telling the genie why he loves Jasmine, what comes out are not descriptions of her character, but rather her appearance.  Her hair.  Her smile.  You get the idea.  This feeds into a monstrosity ideology that women are to be loved not for who they are but for what they look like.  Don’t get me wrong, I will swear on my very life that women got the looks between the two sexes.  No argument there.  But reducing women to that as being their primary source of value is chauvinistic and degrading.  Truth be told, I love Aladdin and Jasmine as a couple.  I just despise his reasons for pursuing her to begin with.

With all of that said, the film is definitely not without its positive points.  The crux of the film really comes from Aladdin’s insecurity in his own identity.  He wins over Jasmine when he is a prince, but he finds himself unable to live with the lie that he has created.  Confounding the problem is the fact that he’s promised the genie that he will free him with his third and final wish, so the lie will have to stop somewhere.  When it does, will she still love him?  How can she?  The lie ultimately backfires on him with disastrous consequences.  However, when he returns and defeats Jafar, he finds that Jasmine doesn’t care that he isn’t a prince.  If he had just been himself all along, she would have loved him anyway.  This is an important point.  While Aladdin’s reasons for loving her to begin with were shallow, we can certainly see that she loved him for who he was, not what he had.  The moral of the story is this: don’t lie to capture love.  True love is not possible without full disclosure.  A monkey with a fez and a magic carpet also helps.