I don’t think I ever realized the stunning endorsement of bestial impropriety invoked by the animated Disney movie, “Beauty and the Beast.” When Belle falls in love with the Beast, she really doesn’t know he used to be a man (even if she suspects as much). And her love for him is certainly not based on some profound connection; the longest conversations they have consist of him roaring at her and her saying she wants to see her father again. It’s not until he saves her life that she starts “coming around,” and from that point on all they do is dance, eat sloppily, and frolic in the snow.
So Belle loves the Beast because he is an animal capable of displaying compassion and a certain degree of nervous cuteness. That’s all well and good, but she certainly got lucky that he ended up turning back into a man before she married him. Man-beast marriages might fly in France (I wouldn’t be surprised one way or the other), but it’s no good over on this continent (at least not without a democrat in the White House). And it’s a good thing too, or Jethro would be having a field day.
One other movie to consider along these lines is the most recent “King Kong.” Films like this really leave me conflicted, because I almost find myself rooting for the animal and the woman to just find their way to Vegas and live out their lives in tranquility. But then I realize it’s just a damn dirty ape, and it would imprison her and beat down her society the first chance it got.
Maybe I missed the whole point of the movie.