"The Little Mermaid" Review: Another Tragic Entry Into the Live-Action Epidemic

Disney sees dollar signs, we see another cheap, uninspired cash-grab.

June 6, 2023

On the 12th cycle of America’s Next Top Model, contestant Celia Ammerman was a consistent favorite of the judges. Despite having an “older” face, she was an incredible stylist, impressing the panel with striking attire week after week.

But during the final five photoshoot, set on a Brazilian beach overflowing with an eccentric cast of paid actors, Ammerman struggled to take a good shot. The show’s art director, Jay Manuel, tried to inspire Celia, but to no avail. In a last-ditch effort to yank a decent photo out of her scantily-clad caboose, Ammerman lowered herself to the ground, dug her tiny hands into the sand, and rose triumphantly, allowing the sand to flow freely through her fingers.

Befuddled, the frustrated Manuel could only muster a simple question:

“Why, though? Why?”

It was a fair question. At the final five, two weeks from the finale, the stakes were high; Ammerman’s amateurish modeling was inexcusable. Pondering her poor choices was, for lack of a better word, fair.

In life, all things serve a purpose. It may not always get fulfilled, but it exists nonetheless. The purpose of competing in an internationally televised modeling competition is to become a world-renowned supermodel; the purpose of creating said internationally televised modeling competition is to drag disenfranchised minorities from their ghetto abodes and berate them before a global audience for… some reason?

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Since show business is show business, Hollywood film productions serve as nefarious intentions as UPN (RIP) brainchildren. As such, we look at the live-action remake of The Little Mermaid with similar confusion as Jay Manuel on the Brazilian beach that fated 2009 day and ask ourselves,

Why, though? Why?

The “controversy” over Disney’s latest cash-grab remake began in July 2019, when Black actress Halle Bailey got announced as Ariel. Racists came out in full force to chastise Disney for pandering to modern socio-political outcry, which, in fairness, was fair. We can pretend otherwise all we wish, but business is cynical. No corporation ever has or ever will make a decision for any reason other than money; deluding ourselves to the contrary only convinces said corporations that we are as naive and exploitable as they already believe. Bailey got hired because Disney saw financial incentive to cast a Black woman, merit aside.

However, the right argument made for the wrong reasons is still the wrong argument. So, sensible people recognized the cynicism in Disney’s decision but ignored it nonetheless. Any minority will tell you; why we get representation is infinitely less important than getting it at all.

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So, in light of the transparency of Bailey’s casting, we acknowledged that the only benefit to recycling a proven success in lieu of producing something new is…

money. Always and forever, money.

Still, knowing intent is different from feeling it justified. If we see a pure-hearted empath gleefully accept a proposal from a misogynistic meathead, we know the intent is to get married; that doesn’t mean we support the marriage, and it certainly doesn’t mean it will be successful.

Thus, The Little Mermaid has but one job: within our knowing it’s a cheap cash-grab, make it worthy of the money. How does one accomplish this? Let us count the ways…

Step 1: Do not take arguably the most beloved Disney princess and reboot her with an actress who cannot rise to the task.

Reviews have heralded Bailey as a “revelation,” which is a lie. She is wooden and lifeless, accomplishing more in her silent moments than when she speaks. Ariel’s desperation to merge with humanity is foundational to the animated version, but Bailey lacks the heft to convey that desire. Even in the film’s final moments, when Ariel’s father, King Triton, bids her and Prince Eric farewell, she is so incapable of emotion that the two fakest tears in film history dramatically roll down her cheeks despite no facial expression. The entire heartbeat of the movie is her longing for a new life in a different world; failing to portray that sinks the film.

Step 2: Do not give iconic songs soulless renditions.

Painfully, we must recall the atrocious rendition of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from the 2019 Lion King, where Beyoncé unleashed her mediocre vocals and lifeless presence onto a beloved Disney classic. It was overflowing with needless runs to compensate for its lack of energy, but we saw through the charade.

We consistently fail to recognize that every art form branches into various fields, each with experts. Voice actors get undervalued because studios believe big names boost revenue, but the quality of the work suffers. Lin-Manuel Miranda roped in his Hamilton! (barf) buddy Daveed Diggs to voice Sebastian, but Diggs’ voice credits are minimal for a reason. He lacks the quality to enliven a character, particularly damning since animation allows for dramatic expression that live-action does not. If you can’t energize “Under the Sea," you shouldn’t be acting.

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Step 3: Do not set a film underwater and look like a carpet in a community college library.

In case you can’t tell by watching The Little Mermaid, water is blue. Ariel’s hair is supposed to be red. You might not have picked up on this since the fire engine locks of the original give way to a muted red-brown. The coral from the reef? The fireworks lighting the night sky? The vials inside Ursula’s cabinets of wickedness? The setting sun as Ariel regains her voice and embraces the hunky Prince Eric? Bland, flat, lifeless.

Even above the surface, nothing distinguishes itself. The castle lacks extravagance or luxury; any palatial quality is external, and even then, the most we see is rudimentary architecture surrounded by flat plains.

Step 4: Representation is more than dropping minorities into a movie.

Heading into the production of its 41st season, Survivor responded to widespread backlash regarding the diversity of its casting by pledging mandates that would require even distribution in its casting pool.

It’s a start, but representation means, ya know, representing people. You have to tell the stories and characterize the individuals. Context counts, and throwing people of various races and ethnicities together and leaving well enough alone is not representation. It’s cheap, lazy, and insulting.

Movies work to establish setting to characterize the environment. Prince Eric’s island is essentially an isle of liberal pandering, overflowing with people of varied ancestry. It’s not a film about the experiences of every ethnicity known to man, which is fine. What’s not fine is sacrificing developing specific cultural elements so Disney can pretend it cares about minority “representation.”

Step 5: Lin-Manuel Miranda sucks, always has sucked, and always will suck. Stop.

Bandwagons are no fun, but we must all abide by ethical imperatives and hop aboard. One could rant endlessly about Miranda's talentlessness and how his success is built on convincing white people that they're hip. Alas, it’s best to leave this here and move on.

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In all, The Little Mermaid only reteaches a lesson we’ve learned every time Disney releases another live-action remake: animated films are animated for a reason. Yes, the technology didn’t exist in 1989 to film a movie underwater to the quality of The Way of Water, but animation allows for incomparable color, motion, and expression. The world comes alive in ways it cannot with live-action. It creates vivid images that seer into the memory and inspire warm recollections for decades after release. No one will remember the eels decorating “Under the Sea” like streamers or the thick mist enveloping a gargantuan Ursula to mask bad CGI. Perhaps we will recall how much it paled compared to the original or failed to meet any objective standard, but that is not the recollection for which Disney hoped.

Will it make money? Perhaps. Its current box office returns are far from what Disney hoped, and its underperformance speaks to a general exhaustion with the unoriginality plaguing the studio system, but it may turn a decent profit.

Unfortunately, it reminds us of why we loathe live-action remakes, even if children’s adoration will shove parents back to the theater to the tune of massive global grosses. In the end, its purpose was money, but we cannot support it, and much like the girl next door rocking a ring from that misogynistic meathead or Jay Manuel trying to coax a decent photo from an aspiring top model, despite knowing the intention, we cannot help but watch The Little Mermaid and ask,

Why, though? Why?