There was no way a live-action Beauty and the Beast remake would best its animated counterpart. Disney’s 1991 adaptation is a classic among classics: a great film with stunning animation, wonderful pacing, lovable characters, fantastic music, and an all-around beautiful interpretation of the original fairy tale handled with affectionate care. It would have been some kind of miracle for the remake to surpass one of Disney’s greatest films—and sure enough, the 2017 version does not, as a whole, live up to its predecessor…though not without giving a very remarkable try. When seeing the film, I went in not to see if the remake would outclass its predecessor, but rather what elements it improved upon, aka; “What aspects does the live-action remake possess that makes it occasionally worth watching over the animated version?”
MAJOR SPOILERS BEGIN:
We all know the story (it is, after all, a tale as old as time), and if you don’t well I suggest catching up ASAP! The 2017 film starts off rather rough at the beginning, following the 1991 adaptation unremarkably similar, yet oddly rushed—with some minor, yet largely irrelevant changes here and there that, while not technically bad, do not add anything to make the story better. This, however, changes once Beast comes into the picture. If there’s one major element that stands on par, if not surpasses the 1991 version, it’s the 2017’s interpretation of the Beast. Dan Stevens does a fantastic job as Beast, giving him a distinctive elegance and sophistication that, while not absent from the original, was downplayed in favor of the Beast’s more comedic and ferocious characteristics. Here, Beast doesn’t just own a library, he’s read/knows most of the books (save for a few that are written in Greek)—giving him and Belle (Emma Watson) a hobby to bond over, discuss and even joke about.
Beast’s humor is distinctively different here; the 1991 version focuses more on facial expressions and how adorkably awkward Beast is when it came to romance, while the 2017 version focuses more on witty wordplay, snarky remarks and humorous banter with Belle. In one scene Beast exaggeratedly groans over Belle’s love for Romeo and Juliet (earning him an amusingly puzzled “Sorry?” from the girl)—ranting over the variety of genres better than romance, only to later get caught reading a romance himself (though he tries, in vain, to play it off as reading the book for adventure). In another scene Beast humorously suggests the two run away from their respective homes, his facial expression making it effectively ambiguous over how sarcastic he’s being. The animators/designers do a fantastic job with Beast’s appearance and expressions. The character is given a more devilish appearance: longer horns, blackened teeth, more prominent goat-like legs that clop when walking, etc. (his initial appearance in the snowstorm reminds me of Krampus), yet retains his softer animal-like features that prevent him from appearing horrific (an amusingly cute scene involves Beast copying Belle’s horse by shaking his mane while whinnying). Stevens nails the character's facial expressions—giving a wonderful delivery that vividly expresses happiness, anger, sadness, sarcasm, melancholy, and love—and is able to make this Beast as enjoyable and endearing as the 1991 version.
The film extends several scenes between the title duo's bonding, as well as adding a few new additions. One of my favorite altered scenes is the small yet noteworthy instance where Beast spikes Belle square in the face with a giant snowball (it’s not often you get to see a princess knocked flat to the ground by their prince). A great addition to the original is when Beast takes Belle (through the power of a magic book) to visit her old home in Paris. The scene is somber, yet touching, especially when Belle asks Beast to take them “back home”, earning a small, yet heartwarming smile from Beast. As Belle, Emma Watson…is Emma Watson: giving a perfectly acceptable performance, though not who I’ll think back on as the ideal version of Belle (that goes to Paige O’Hara). The 2017 version does give her a more prominent role during the finale between Gaston and Beast’s confrontation. It’s nothing excessive—a smart move as it could have taken away from Beast’s highlight moment of mercy—yet adds just enough to make her role more physically helpful for Beast during his time of need (an appreciative addition).
Unlike Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast actually keeps the original’s music, as well as adding several new songs. Similar to Emma Watson’s performance, the classic tunes are perfectly acceptable here, just not as effective as their animated counterparts. Be Our Guest and Beauty and the Beast are the closest to capturing the original’s magic: the former offering an enjoyable case of flashy dazzle, and the latter delivering a lovely splendor during the dance sequence. Out of the new additions, it’s Beast’s ballad Evermore—where Beast soliloquys how he’s come to love Belle directly after letting her go—that stands out and rivals the original soundtrack. The scene is lovely (both in sound and choreography) and heartbreakingly somber: effectively resonating Beast’s pain as he watches his true love depart seemingly forever—climbing higher and higher up his castle for just one more second of viewing Belle.
Gaston (Luke Evans) is an interesting example of alternating a character’s personality, while keeping his primary motives/actions the same. While still chauvinistic and narcissistic, Gaston is far less boorish and obnoxious when going about it—still dense, yet less so than before. In the 1991 version, Gaston rudely takes Belle’s book out of her hands—looking at it sideways while complaining how there’s no pictures. Here, in the same scene, Gaston tries impressing Belle by showing interest in the book she’s reading, only to state he’s “not read that one” when Belle further inquiries (another noteworthy scene involves the man trying to bond with Belle over the school headmaster’s dislike for the two, though for quite different reasons). Instead of having his cronies throw Maurice (Kevin Kline) out of the bar once the man begins raving about a beast, Gaston reprimands the townsfolk for laughing at him—offering to help Maurice search for his daughter (which he ends up doing for some time). While the latter act of “kindness” is only to get on Maurice’s good side (so as to gain the father’s permission to marry Belle), it’s still worth noting as one of the more subtle/deceptive approaches live-action Gaston takes towards getting what he wants—making it more believable as to why the townsfolk unanimously adore him.
To counterbalance such changes, live-action Gaston makes up for it with a far more wrathful nature —manifesting to the surface after constant attempts and failures to get what he wants. Such inner-rage, combined with a clear love for violence, leads live-action Gaston to perform much crueler actions, such as tying up and leaving Maurice in the woods to be devoured by wolves (which would, in turn, force Belle to either marry or become a beggar). LeFou (Josh Gad) has been the center of a rather unnecessary controversy regarding a “change” in his personal preference. I too was worried about such alteration, though not regarding the change itself, but that it was given to a slimy, villainous sidekick. Fortunately, such worries were for naught, as LeFou has received a complete overhaul in personality: becoming an anti-villain who even receives a heel-face turn by the conclusion. I enjoy LeFou’s redesign and find the brief dance moment at the end to be really cute. LaFoe’s also noteworthy as the first openly gay character in a Disney film (and in a big-name remake to one of their most significant films no less): a company that has had a very firm “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy regarding their previous sexually-questionable characters. It’s a big step for the company, and makes me curious if they may, in fact, take Elsa down a similar path in Frozen 2.
MAJOR SPOILERS END
The 2017 version initially has trouble finding its footing: it’s pacing is off at times, and follows the original a bit too closely. Yet by the time Beast appears in the film, Beauty and the Beast finds its own ground—still following closely to the 1991’s plot, yet with a refreshing atmosphere created by its actors (namely Dan Stevens) and their altered/additional moments. Compared to the revolutionary achievements of the 1991 and 1946 (my other favorite Beauty and the Beast film) versions, the 2017 adaptation does not live up—yet when viewed by its accomplishments through singular elements, the remake is a remarkably well-made film. The 2017 version gives enough reason/substance to warrant an occasional viewing over the others—succeeding in all the areas Cinderella’s remake falls short. Out of the Disney live-action remakes so far, Beauty and the Beast finds itself somewhere in the middle: below The Jungle Book, yet above Cinderella.
