By: Danielle Binks

Fifteen-year-old Merida (voiced by Kelly Macdonald) is a fiery-haired Scottish princess of Clan DunBroch. Although she unsuccessfully tries to mimic her Queen Mother’s lessons in ladylike behaviour, Merida takes after her brutish father, King Fergus (Billy Connolly) – she enjoys archery, horse riding and rock-climbing. Her mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson), despairs that Merida will ever be a proper princess, and one day fit to rule her clan … so Elinor devises to bring the other three Scottish Clans of Dingwall, MacGuffin and Macintosh to DunBroch, where the three first-born Clan sons will battle it out for Merida’s hand in marriage.

Distraught by the prospect of being prize in a betrothal competition, Merida thinks she can battle for her own hand in marriage, but Elinor is not impressed. While Elinor tries to explain the importance of duty to her wilful young daughter, Merida likewise pleas with her mother to understand the importance of freedom and choosing her own fate – both their arguments fall on deaf ears.

It’s only with the curiously magical help of a looming stone structure, and follow-the-leader will-o’-the-wisps that Merida devises a new plan on how she can take control of her own life.

Brave is the new Disney/Pixar box-office smash-hit. But Brave is not your typical school holiday requisite movie-filler, it’s actually quite the feminist fairy-tale and a welcome breath of fresh-air…

The movie has been subject to some rather disturbing scrutiny in the US these past few weeks. It all started when Adam Markovitz, writing for Entertainment Weekly, asked: ‘Could the heroine of Pixar's Brave be gay?’. Much discussion and web-debate followed, the best of which probably came from the satirical Stephen Colbert, who rightfully stated: "Because any 15-year-old girl who resists an arranged marriage must be gay?" It’s a shame (and slightly creepy) that adult reviewers and commentators feel the need to box and label a Disney character and dissect her sexuality – and that’s really all it is, no matter how much they protest a ‘deeper reading of the text’, it comes down to unnecessary labelling, and because of that many reviewers seem to be missing the forest for the trees.

Yes. Merida is a welcome reprieve from the typical sing-songy, prince-obsessed Disney princesses of the past – instead of wearing tulle-filled pink dresses, she rides around in a gown chosen for her by Queen Elinor, which has perpetually ripped sleeves and skewed bodice, from where Merida has contorted to shoot her bow & arrow. Her hair is a wild mass, which seems to have a mind of its own, rather than the strange helmet-headed, block-colouring of those who came before her;
 


Merida is not a ‘perfect’ princess – she gets dirty and stuffs her face with cakes, she talks back to her mother and snorts when she laughs. She’s real and she’s messy and she’s just the sort of cartoon heroine young girls should be watching! Merida also enjoys a special connection with the DunBroch land, and she’s never happier than when she’s riding on her beloved horse Angus, rock-climbing or drinking from a hidden waterfall.



The big draw-card of Brave was, for me at least, the focus of a mother/daughter bond. The real heart of the story comes from Merida and Elinor’s push-and-pull relationship – and the second-half of the novel turns into a beautiful mother/daughter quest.

Now, Disney has gotten a lot better with regards to representations of mothers in their films. Gone are the days of wicked stepmothers, traumatic deaths of the mother (Bambi, gets me every time!) or just plain never-mentioned mothers (Aladdin, Beauty & The Beast, Pocahontas…). Admittedly, Brave isn’t 100% perfect (there’s a typical crone-like witch character – why is there never a wizard in this fateful role?!) But Brave really marks one of the first Disney movies where there’s a focus on the mother/daughter bond, not by default because of another absent or dead parent, but because the mother/daughter relationship is amongst the most complex and vital.



Arranged marriage and queenly duties aside, Merida and Elinor’s point of contention really isn’t so outlandish that women in the audience can’t relate – it boils down to Merida not living up to Elinor’s ideals. And isn’t that just a Pandora’s box of problems? And we are treated to both Merida and Elinor’s sides of the story – Elinor who just wants what’s best for her, and Merida who feels like she’ll never be good enough. If that sounds, surprisingly, like it will hit close to home for many viewers, then you’d be right. And if it sounds dauntingly complex for a Disney movie, you’d be right again – and that’s why Brave is so darn good.

Forget the ‘is she or isn’t she?’ discussions swirling around Brave and its tom-boy Princess, Merida. Go see this movie because it’s a darn good yarn about mothers and daughters, being yourself and, as a young woman, choosing your own path in life.