Those who watched, and let themselves be enchanted by the animation movies of the fabulous world of Disney, divided, at some stage in their lives, the world in two parts: the good and the bad. I was one of them.
The greatest achievement of Disney has been precisely it: to simplify our World, and, at some point, our very own existence. Throughout our childhood, and, above all, when we become adults.
Who has not cried when Bambi's mother dies? Or when little Simba is expelled from the Kingdom? Or when Dumbo is separated from its mother? Who has never felt hate when the wicked queen poisons Snow White with that apple with a delightful aspect? Or when Cinderella’s stepmom locks her in her room? Well, who ever felt it, had a childhood as filled as mine.
I’ve always loved stories, and during most part of my childhood, I’ve always wanted to believe they were true. That it was possible to give life to a boy made of wood. That rats, cats, dogs and foxes were speaking beings. Or even that mermaids lived in some kingdom, lost in the ocean.
But there is always a time when we start to see the world in different ways, with more (or less) colors than those belonging to good and evil. With no apparent reason, we begin to understand that world is not just those enchanted stories and, due to that fact, some of us simply stop watching Disney movies. However, that has not happened to me, yet. I have never stopped watching those movies, and I’ve never stopped feeling something special after watching them for the 134th time. I can still remember parts of the dialogs, not to mention the soundtracks. Some of them are, even today, included in the playlists on my mp3 player. And I think that happens with a good deal of people out there.
When I grew up (a difficult process I must add), I began to understand the movies from different perspectives. Suddenly I could no longer identify myself with the good fellows, and I could understand some of the bad ones too, somehow. I started getting angry at the perfect world of heroes and to have compassion for the miserable world of evil.
Maybe, I thought, maybe Snow White’s evil queen is just an old lady who does not accept her age, having been deeply depressed when a little, insignificant, princess usurped her kingdom. Someone younger and, imagine that, prettier than herself!
Perhaps Cinderella’s stepsisters, uglier, fatter, shorter and dumber than she, have all the right to be jealous with her true love with that insipid prince, with a crystal shoe fetish (also no one has yet explored the many fetishes that Disney has been encouraging since the beginning!)
And what about Captain Hook, who sees his plans constantly devastated by a bunch of rude kids, with no manners and no parents to punish them, from time to time? Who never lost control with a naughty kid, please throw the first stone to Hook.
I don’t consider myself to be an especially good person. Nor an especially mean one. Not even someone with specifically elaborated fetishes, though I might have some. Having that in mind, in which enchanted story do I fit in? Am I the blond, good looking, tall and naïve Hercules? I’m not blond, nor tall and, least of all, naïve. Ok, I’m not a bad looking guy, but I’m not the teen star kind of guy.
Perhaps I’m more like the monster who holds the Beauty within the castle. Well, he’s more like one of those guys hiding inside its shell, having been hurt throughout his life. But I've never been so lost in my life, and not even as psychotic as he is.
Maybe I'm just like Wall-e, some strange being alone in the planet, without having any clue about my role here.
As I was thinking about this and other things, I realized that Disney created a world that is so precious, exactly because it simplifies us, without necessarily reducing us. No one is as perfect as Sleeping Beauty, nor as fearless as Pocahontas, nor as stupid as Goofy, nor as boring as Mickey Mouse (well, actually I know a couple of guys as boring as Mickey, but let's not deepen the subject). We are just imperfect sequels of all these stories. Like Alladin 3 and a half, in which the character has already won new addictions due to the new position acquired by marriage and the Genius of the lamp is even fatter and grumpier. Or like Lion King 10, in which Simba is already a grandparent, smokes, is a recovering alcoholic, has a carload of children who just want to usurp the throne and only thinks of girls younger than Nala.
Well yes my friends, we are the rest, we are those that Disney never wanted to portray in its stories. We are the lost boys of Disney.
The greatest achievement of Disney has been precisely it: to simplify our World, and, at some point, our very own existence. Throughout our childhood, and, above all, when we become adults.
Who has not cried when Bambi's mother dies? Or when little Simba is expelled from the Kingdom? Or when Dumbo is separated from its mother? Who has never felt hate when the wicked queen poisons Snow White with that apple with a delightful aspect? Or when Cinderella’s stepmom locks her in her room? Well, who ever felt it, had a childhood as filled as mine.
I’ve always loved stories, and during most part of my childhood, I’ve always wanted to believe they were true. That it was possible to give life to a boy made of wood. That rats, cats, dogs and foxes were speaking beings. Or even that mermaids lived in some kingdom, lost in the ocean.
But there is always a time when we start to see the world in different ways, with more (or less) colors than those belonging to good and evil. With no apparent reason, we begin to understand that world is not just those enchanted stories and, due to that fact, some of us simply stop watching Disney movies. However, that has not happened to me, yet. I have never stopped watching those movies, and I’ve never stopped feeling something special after watching them for the 134th time. I can still remember parts of the dialogs, not to mention the soundtracks. Some of them are, even today, included in the playlists on my mp3 player. And I think that happens with a good deal of people out there.
When I grew up (a difficult process I must add), I began to understand the movies from different perspectives. Suddenly I could no longer identify myself with the good fellows, and I could understand some of the bad ones too, somehow. I started getting angry at the perfect world of heroes and to have compassion for the miserable world of evil.
Maybe, I thought, maybe Snow White’s evil queen is just an old lady who does not accept her age, having been deeply depressed when a little, insignificant, princess usurped her kingdom. Someone younger and, imagine that, prettier than herself!
Perhaps Cinderella’s stepsisters, uglier, fatter, shorter and dumber than she, have all the right to be jealous with her true love with that insipid prince, with a crystal shoe fetish (also no one has yet explored the many fetishes that Disney has been encouraging since the beginning!)
And what about Captain Hook, who sees his plans constantly devastated by a bunch of rude kids, with no manners and no parents to punish them, from time to time? Who never lost control with a naughty kid, please throw the first stone to Hook.
I don’t consider myself to be an especially good person. Nor an especially mean one. Not even someone with specifically elaborated fetishes, though I might have some. Having that in mind, in which enchanted story do I fit in? Am I the blond, good looking, tall and naïve Hercules? I’m not blond, nor tall and, least of all, naïve. Ok, I’m not a bad looking guy, but I’m not the teen star kind of guy.
Perhaps I’m more like the monster who holds the Beauty within the castle. Well, he’s more like one of those guys hiding inside its shell, having been hurt throughout his life. But I've never been so lost in my life, and not even as psychotic as he is.
Maybe I'm just like Wall-e, some strange being alone in the planet, without having any clue about my role here.
As I was thinking about this and other things, I realized that Disney created a world that is so precious, exactly because it simplifies us, without necessarily reducing us. No one is as perfect as Sleeping Beauty, nor as fearless as Pocahontas, nor as stupid as Goofy, nor as boring as Mickey Mouse (well, actually I know a couple of guys as boring as Mickey, but let's not deepen the subject). We are just imperfect sequels of all these stories. Like Alladin 3 and a half, in which the character has already won new addictions due to the new position acquired by marriage and the Genius of the lamp is even fatter and grumpier. Or like Lion King 10, in which Simba is already a grandparent, smokes, is a recovering alcoholic, has a carload of children who just want to usurp the throne and only thinks of girls younger than Nala.
Well yes my friends, we are the rest, we are those that Disney never wanted to portray in its stories. We are the lost boys of Disney.
Embora rapazes perdidos da Disney, -"A rose is still a rose". Cumprimentos,
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