Lion King’s a solid flick. Directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff, the film serves as an interesting riff on Hamlet with the pieces re-arranged to make it kid friendly and a superb musical accompaniment courtesy of sir Elton John that worms itself into your brain for years to come. But people misread the film. Specifically, the character Simba. Canon has it that Simba is a deeply sympathetic hero whose bravery and tenacity in the face of tragedy serves as model of virtue that we all should aspire to exemplify a daily basis. This interpretation is, in fact, misguided fallacy, a misappropriation of story resulting from the buoyant, cartoonish, and musical atmosphere of the film. If you look at the movie on an objective level, Simba turns out to be an entitled, self-involved asshole raised in to a culture of privilege and indulgence by a father whose sole moment of proper parenting was dying.
At the start of the story, Simba’s a
young lion. He’s a boy acting in boyish ways: a tad immature, overly
adventurous, and a disrespect of authority. It’s understandable because boys
will be boys. You don’t slip out the womb full of wisdom and insight. Mufasa
knows this and early on trues to implore upon Simba the virtues and
requirements of a leader and, to an extent, of any halfway decent human being
(Or lion, whatever, you know what I mean). But these type of ideas take a while
to ferment within a personality, so Simba’s still off being a rambunctious little
lion that he is.
Uncle
Scar, the film’s agent of chaos and evil, tells Simba about this cool forbidden
elephant graveyard. Simba, of course, wants to go. Zazu, being they kind of guy
who, likes his King’s kid being alive and stuff, tells Simba not to venture off.
Simba goes anyway, roping his innocent friend Nala along for the shenanigan.
Disobedience, especially within small children, is if not forgiven, than understandable
as long as it is the exception to their behavior, not their general mantra of
behavior.
But
before they take part in their disobedience, they need to get rid of Zazu. And
they do so with a musical number called “I Just Can’t Wait to be King”. Simba
riles up all these Pride Land animals (Who no doubt were enjoying their
afternoon perfectly fine before Simba came along and brought his little song
and dance routine, I’m sure) and performs this big musical number which subdues
Zazu by pure chaotic force. Their handling of Zazu is not really the issue here
though. What is bothersome is the lyrical content of Simba’s song. He sings
about how he cannot wait until he will not have to bow down to authority. He is
a power hungry crown chaser who wants to be in charge just so there’s no one
above him telling him how to act. This mindset is not necessarily role model
material, but one chalk it up to the pitfalls of boyhood I suppose.
Simba
and Nala get to the elephant graveyard and, what do you know, it turns out to
be dangerous and they nearly get eaten by hyenas! Like Zazu warned them! Mufasa
sweeps in and saves the two children at the last minute. Now this is an opportunity
for true parenting. If Mufasa handles this moment properly, a stern yet not
entirely unsympathetic approach, this could become a real character forming
moment for Simba that clearly defines for him the line between right and wrong.
This line could go on to guide Simba years later during his time as king. Precision
is necessary in this moment.
Instead, Mufasa has about thirty seconds of
glaring and grimacing before tussling his son’s mane and basically saying,
“Hey, just don’t do that again.”
WHAT
THE FUCK.
NO!
Just no! This style of parenting, the type where your kid messes up and you let
it slide just this one time because he definitely learned his lesson and will
NEVER act like this again because you told him not to and it’s different then
when you told him earlier not to do that thing because you, as a parent, really
mean it now, breeds the absolute worst type of person. These are the type that
not are not only unable to understand the nature of consequence, but are also
unaware of its very existence. Such a force has never been a presence in their
life because their parents excuse them of it. These people act in a reckless,
selfish manner because that’s all they’ve ever known. And it is not as much
that Simba is a horrible person in this particular moment, but that he would
have grown to become one had everything in his life not gone to shit. Had
Mufasa been able to keep up his parental style of fostering a privileged and
consequence-free environment for his son, then, to draw a parallel to our
world, Simba would have become that jock asshole in high school that got a
brand new 50,000 dollar Porsche for his birthday and purposefully crashed it so
he could get a new one, this time with the correct
plush interior. Which is why Mufasa’s was at his best as a parent when he died.
Mufasa’s
death is tragic on a variety of levels. Drawn beautifully, evocative voice
acting and fantastic sound design, it’s a powerful moment that sits inside the
viewer long after the movie’s over. But the situation Simba is put in may be
that part that hits hardest. Simba’s childish ways end up leading to his
father’s death (Or so Scar leads him to believe). Losing a father is hard
enough, but having to bear the emotional brunt of responsibility for it as well
is a form of psychological baggage so complex and weighty that I wouldn’t wish
it upon my worst enemy. (Actually, I probably would on him, but probably not my
third or fourth worst ones.) From a removed perspective though, this is an
important and beneficial moment for Simba. There is no one there to excuse him
for his actions this time. No one to say it’s ‘All okay.’ (Yet.) Simba’s forced
to confront his personal flaws and deal with them. Hopefully, this will shock
him out of his boyhood ignorance and thrust him into adulthood.
NOPE.
After a brief period of angsty though really understandable period of moping,
he runs off into the forest with Timon and Pumba and becomes the Disney
animation equivalent of a stoner, preaching apathy and hedonism while munching
on an endless amount of edibles. For years, he lives for the sole purpose of
escaping the pain and guilt of his actions. If nothing else, as a kid, Simba at
least had ambitions of leadership, no matter how egotistical and selfish they were
at their core. But now he just sits on his ass all day thinking about the
latest ways to please himself. Presented with the chance to move past his flaws
and embrace the basic emotional requirements of becoming a mature adult capable
of leadership, he doesn’t as much say no as ignore the opportunity all together.
Guilt,
regret, shame. These emotional bedrocks are what ultimately carry us from
childhood into adulthood. We confront these emotions after an array of
mistakes, big or small, and deal with them, making promises and pledges to ourselves
to not make these types of mistakes again. And in the process of fixing the
ills and foibles of our personalities, we turn into better people. (Which is
why the axiom “No regrets” is, pardon the vulgarity, utter bullshit.) Without
regret, you have no reason to grow as a person because you are utterly content
with the one you are today. So why bother trying to fix it? Simba makes that
choice of apathy every day of his life for years. Sympathy for his tragic
upbringing aside, this is not someone I aspire to become.
Simba,
after years of indulgences escapism, is forced to confront his past during a chance
encounter with Nala. After some passionate cuddling and nose rubbing, Nala asks
him to come back to the Pride Lands and assume the throne because only he can
stop Scar from making such a muck of things. (Nala, despite all of her other fantastic
personality traits which we will get to later, clearly is not skilled in the
art of character assessment.) Simba being Simba, he does not want to confront
the emotional burden of his father’s death and refuses, angrily running off
into the forest. All his old friends and family, even his mother, are in danger
of dying out due to this egotistical tyrant. But hey, Simba comes before
everyone else.
Simba
eventually changes his mind though after encounters with floating flower petals
and a monkey that’d get psychiatric help if he knew what was good for him. He
goes back to the Pride Lands and fights off Scar, has a baby with Nala and
rules over the Pride Lands. After basically an lifetime rife with moments
basically calling out to him “Hey, get your shit together!”, he finally does.
And you know what, kudos to him. Seriously, well done. It’s not easy changing,
but we’re all glad he did. And so he ends the film as a fairly noble king and
everyone likes him. But he should not be given all that much credit for this. Simba
has been given such a dearth of opportunities to change himself, and he only
acts upon them once everyone he loves pesters him to do so, as opposed to
finding that change within himself through introspection and revelation. I’m
not saying he is the worst person ever, but he’s not all that great, and he’s
definitely not role model material.
Even
as he grows up, Simba is not the leader the Pride Lands deserves. Nor is Scar
(A man too enraptured in the thralls of jealousy and selfishness, despite his
clear tactical qualifications and cunnery, to ever benefit the masses. Also,
he’s just a big jerk). Nor is Mufasa, (Too naïve and kind hearted to make the
types of decisions that need to be made as a king, i.e. Ned Stark). The leader
the Pride Lands deserves is Nala. Look at this girl. Powerful, smart, yet not
without compassion. She is a gentle soul who is not cruel yet knows what needs
to be done for the kingdom to thrive. But can she be the ruler of the Pride Lands?
No. She’s a girl.
Lion
King ends up being about the faults of a society that empowers and breeds male
egotism as well as the consequence that such institutional bias births. Scar,
Simba Mufasa, none of them are fit to rule. Nala, the best candidate for leader, is
relegated to being nothing more than a muse, a mere inspiration for passion and
fortitude for Simba when he needs it most. And it’s a god damn shame that it works like that.
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