Disney has drawn an outline for gay characters

By A.X.S.

“BEAUTY AND THE BEAST” enjoyed a marketing boost in the weeks before its release. Bill Condon, the director, announced that the film features the first “exclusively gay moment in a Disney movie”: LeFou (Josh Gad) fancies other men. Soon after, Russian legislators slapped a 16+ rating on the film on the grounds of its “gay propaganda against minors” and a cinema in Alabama refused to screen it altogether (the owners said it contravened “God’s word”). The Malaysian government requested to cut the subplot; when Disney refused, the authorities decided to back down.

Yet the censors seem to forget that “gay moments” are strewn throughout the Disney canon. In “Cinderella” (1950), Gus and Jack, two male mice, snuggle up to each other; the cuddle is cute until Jack remembers Gus is a guy, pulling his arm away in horror. Timon and Pumbaa, two male characters in “The Lion King” (1994), enjoy a close relationship (and “dress in drag and do the hula”). “Star vs the Forces of Evil”, an animated children’s series, featured a gay couple kissing; “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story” (2016) offered tender moments between Baze and Chirrut.

Many Disney villains have refused to rely on conventional gender tropes, too. Governor Ratcliffe (“Pocahontas”, 1995) carries a pug, wears flamboyant capes and sports bows in his pigtails. Hades, the villain of “Hercules” (1997), is undeniably sassy. Ursula in “The Little Mermaid” (1989) represents the monstrous, embittered lesbian trope; her style is modelled on that of Divine, an outrageous drag queen made famous in John Waters’ colourful comedies. These characters are not so much gay as queer—meaning their sexuality and gender are hard to pin down—which makes them more unnerving to protagonists.

While these characters are coded and interpreted as gay, LeFou is explicitly shown to be attracted to men. Spurning women, he desires his friend Gaston; the final dancing scene sees him in the arms of a male partner. But even in moving depictions of homosexuality from covert to overt, Disney plays it safe. Indeed, there are really only two ways in which Disney presents gay characters.

The first is to incorporate them into the broader, universal message of individual freedom. Elsa from “Frozen” has become a gay icon because she struggles with her secret power that is only resolved when she accepts herself for who she is. (Many gay film-goers hope this arc lands Elsa in the lap of a girlfriend in the forthcoming sequel.) Watching Elsa gives strength to a gay viewer living in the closet. And it validates a gay person who was brave enough to come out. The film’s theme tune, “Let it go”, has become a coming-out anthem.

Tamatoa, a crab in “Moana” (2016), similarly takes control of his own character. A fan of glam-rock and neon body paint, he refuses to be a “drab little crab” and instead makes himself into “a work of art”. His shell becomes so encrusted with glitter that he turns into a disco ball in the right light: “I can’t hide,” he says. “I’m too shiny.”

Beyond such universal themes of self-acceptance, the second way in which Disney presents gay characters is to fit them into the acceptable paradigms of romance and marriage. LeFou’s story arc concludes with union. “Finding Dory” (Pixar, 2016) features a same-sex couple with children. In “Frozen”, Oaken’s private life comprises of another man and a brood of children. Perhaps it is no coincidence that this trend is happening: now that these rights are available to gay people in some countries, they pop up for characters in films, too. But in focusing exclusively on marriage, Disney consolidates its traditional themes while dodging the chance to represent the kinds of non-conforming families that many gay people have long advocated for.

Furthermore, these gay characters are never portrayed as having an actual sexuality: there are winks and suggestions but nothing even close to euphemism. Disney has made straight sex palatable to parents: some of its biggest ballads are metaphors for sex. Simba and Nala romp through a jungle asking each other “can you feel the love tonight?”. Aladdin gives Princess Jasmine an “indescribable feeling” as they ride the magic carpet. The closest LeFou gets to a sex metaphor is a smile, before the camera moves elsewhere.

It is likely only a matter of time before a Disney plot follows a central princess seeking another princess. But forcing such characters into monogamous, child-rearing relationships ignores a wider picture of gay life and its booming subculture of gender-bending drag acts, non-monogamous relationships and unconventional family arrangements. Children seem to have little trouble understanding love in all its forms—films and fairy tales need not narrow their perspective.

“Beauty and the Beast” is screening in more than 40 territories now (except for one cinema in DeKalb County, Alabama)