- by Owen Morton
Well, last time we got as far as the point where Ursula offers Ariel the chance to become human for three days, and if she managed to get lovable but dumb Prince Eric to kiss her in those three days, she would become human permanently. There is, however, a catch, as can only be expected when one is signing pacts with demons. Ursula demands payment for her services (as if the possibility of becoming one of those brown thingies wasn’t payment enough), and being very cunning, Ursula asks for Ariel’s voice. This is extremely clever, since Ursula knows that Prince Eric has fallen deeply in love with the girl he saw singing to him on the beach (i.e. Ariel, after she rescued him), and wants to marry her. If Ariel can’t talk or sing, then Eric will assume she’s not the one, and consequently won’t kiss her. (In real life, of course, this isn’t how it would work. Disney is operating on the assumption that you only kiss girls you intend to marry. This is not the case in real life, in case you haven’t noticed.)
Despite warnings from Sebastian and Flounder, who have sneaked in and are swiftly silenced (though sadly not permanently) by Flotsam and Jetsam, Ariel signs the pact. Ursula orders to her to sing, in order to capture her voice, and Ariel does so, if what she does can be referred to as singing. It is more an irritating “ah ah ahhh, ah ah ahhhh” etc, but I suppose it’s a small price to pay to not have to listen to her at all for the entire second half of the film. Anyway, Ariel’s voice is removed by Ursula’s magic (I’d pick up on this, suggesting that voices can’t be removed, but who knows what magic can do? I’m only picking up on the frankly impossible or deeply stupid things which happen) and, surprisingly, Ursula keeps to her side of the bargain, and transforms Ariel into a human. One would assume that that would be the end of the whole business, given that Ariel is deep down in the ocean and would therefore drown before she gets up to the surface, but evidently not. At any rate, the next scene sees Ariel with legs and no tail (and quite frankly, I think she was more attractive with the tail, which says a lot for her legs) sitting in a pool of water on the beach, with no voice and presumably without a clue what to do next.
Fortunately, Sebastian and Flounder have come up to the surface with her (Flounder again not suffocating – why couldn’t they hold true to the rules of physics/biology/whatever and satisfy me at the same time by killing the bloody creature off?), but less fortunately, they have no idea what to do either. Sebastian suggests going back to Ursula, getting her to reverse the spell, and heading back underwater and not telling King Triton what’s happened, but that prompts violent head-shaking from Ariel. It also prompted a derisive snort from me, considering that Ursula’s evil plan – whatever it is – obviously involves Ariel being human and having no voice, because that’ll lead to her becoming one of the brown things. At any rate, if we continue to accept ‘Doctor Faustus’ as the influence for this section, it is well-established that you can’t go back on the demonic pact. I’d use textual evidence to back that up, but that would involve getting up and walking over to my bookshelf, which is a good two metres away, so you’re just going to have to trust me.
Anyway, the point is moot because Ariel doesn’t want the spell reversed. So everyone’s a little stuck for what to do. Just as well that that stupid seagull comes along, then, isn’t it? It lands on Ariel’s leg but takes a full two minutes, I would estimate, to realise that she has legs. As soon as it learns this, it tells her that if she wants to get anywhere with Eric, she’ll have to get dressed. I personally think she might have got along better with him by remaining undressed, but then this is a children’s film. And she certainly isn’t going to get anywhere with him if she wears the dress the seagull makes for her. It’s admittedly a fairly good effort for a seagull, especially one that’s presumably not done any tailoring before, but it’s not going to win any fashion contests.
Still, Ariel wears the dress and sits on a rock, looking alluring. Quite why, I don’t know, because there’s no one there, apart from her friends. Still, in fairly short order that demented dog shows up. It finds Ariel and seems inordinately excited about it, somehow knowing that she’s the one Eric is looking for – even though the dog and Ariel have never actually seen each other before – so it runs off and fetches Eric. Eric here displays his stupidity again; having been dragged to the spot where Ariel is sitting, he promptly fails to notice her. I mean it, he completely blanks her. It takes his dog to draw his attention to her. When he finally sees her, he says, “Oh!” in an interesting tone which sadly defies description, then attempts to have a conversation with her. Learning that she can’t speak disappoints him greatly; it means she can’t be the one he thought she was. It is presumably at this point that Ariel realises how clever it was of Ursula to take her voice away, because she didn’t seem all that fussed by its absence up until now.
On a side note, I’m tempted to wonder why she didn’t just write the situation down for him to read (assuming he can read, that is). You might argue that she wouldn’t know how to write, given that she has lived all her life underwater, where they don’t tend to use paper in any great amounts, but I would point your attention to the scene in which Ariel signed Ursula’s demonic pact. She can sign her name, and it’s a fairly logical step to assume that she would presumably also be capable of writing longer things. You might also argue that if she could write, she would write in a different language to Eric. This sounds reasonable until we remember that Ursula’s demonic pact was written in English, and that’s the language in which all the humans speak in this film (even though some of them put on quite bad French accents). Therefore, I can only conclude that Ariel doesn’t write and tell the prince of her plight because either a) she assumes he’s too stupid to read or b) she knows if she does that, the film will be over far too soon, and her time in the limelight will be cut short.
Anyway, Ariel is taken to the prince’s castle, which fortunately is right next to the beach, and Sebastian accompanies her in her dress’s pocket. Flounder remains subject to at least some laws of logic and remains in the sea. The seagull goes away, and frankly I wouldn’t give a monkey’s if I never saw it again. Sadly, it does reappear later. But you’ll have to wait for that.
Ariel is given a bath in the castle, and seems to demonstrate a quite astonishing confusion when presented with the water. I mean, she’s lived in it all her life, so why is she now so fascinated with it as if she’s never seen it before? In the meantime, her dress is subject to all sorts of antics while it is washed, with Sebastian still in it. This culminates in him going through the mangle, yet – in true cartoon style – surviving remarkably unscathed, and managing to fall through a window into the kitchen.
And here begins one of the more ‘amusing’ interludes in the film. Sebastian is noticed by the chef, who sports one of the most offending French accents, as well as a stupid moustache, who makes it his life’s ambition to catch Sebastian and serve him up for supper. A ‘hilarious’ chase ensues, in which Sebastian runs all over the kitchen, being pursued by the chef, who seems to possess an interestingly large and paranoid collection of weapons. The chase scene wrecks the kitchen entirely, leading me to wonder whether it was worth it just to catch one crab. It struck me that the chef would have been fired almost instantly, but sadly this isn’t the case, even though as an explanation for his behaviour, he offers, “Oh, er, nothing” with a big stupid smile.
In the meantime, Ariel has accepted the prince’s invitation of a tour of his kingdom the following day. Even though she can’t speak, she and Eric get along like a house on fire at the dinner table. He probably doesn’t like girls who can talk: I should imagine it’s too much for his miniscule mind to comprehend. Anyway, this scene contains the conclusion of that joke I mentioned quite early on, when Ariel went into the shipwreck. Having been provided with a fork at the dinner table, she promptly starts combing her hair with it. It was so worth it, wasn’t it?
And so ends Ariel’s first day as a human.
Don’t worry, the second day is nowhere near as long. Well, probably not, anyway. Nothing in particular happens throughout the hours of daylight, which are taken up by a montage scene of Ariel and Eric wandering around the kingdom, expressing great delight at the most mundane things – though I will be fair and say that, having been underwater all her life, she’d never have seen them before – and Ariel driving a horse carriage like a maniac. Sebastian, Flounder and the seagull keep on asking one another, “Has he kissed her yet?” and always receive the answer, “No.”
In the evening, Eric decides to take Ariel out in a rowing boat. Here is one of the most obvious displays of his monumental dim-wittedness. While she’s in the boat, Sebastian organises all the creatures in the lagoon into an orchestra and they all start singing an irritating song which seems to consist primarily of the line, “Kiss the girl” (though it sounds more like “Kissy girl”). While this song is going on, all the animals dance in frankly stupid ways. Ariel notices it straight away, but the prince remains blissfully ignorant. He even fails to notice that there are four frogs dancing on each of the boat’s oars. At any rate, the song seems to work, and he’s just about to kiss her when Flotsam and Jetsam overturn the boat.
Watching from underneath the ocean, in her crystal ball (or crystal bubble, as I think we’d have to refer to it), Ursula deems that that was too close for comfort. She decides that something is going to have to be done. She was evidently not counting on the prince being shallow enough to want to marry someone he couldn’t even talk to. Anyway, she starts making her own plans – and, sinisterly, she’s going to use Ariel’s voice.
And so ends the second day.
But in the middle of the second night, the prince wakes up to see a woman walking out of the sea, singing in – gasp! – Ariel’s voice. He immediately assumes that she is the one for him and runs down to meet her. It doesn’t seem to occur to him to question why beautiful women keep on turning up on his beach. In preparing to marry this mystery woman, he’s obviously really shallow. I mean, come on – he was about to kiss Ariel the night before, yet this girl turns up and he’s ready to marry her, convinced that she’s his ideal partner, based only on the evidence that she sounds like the girl who was singing to him on the beach. (And let’s face it, even if she were the one, that doesn’t exactly add up to the best criteria for a great marriage, really, does it? Ariel’s no better, of course: she only saw the nutcase once and decided he was right for her, even though he was of a different species to her at the time.)
The wedding is arranged for that very afternoon, and a special ship is acquired for it to take place on. Ariel evidently spends the day not doing anything at all, because by the time the ship leaves, the sun is drawing down in the sky. Just to show what a complete and utter bastard the prince is, he hasn’t even invited Ariel to his wedding. She is left behind on the pier, watching the ship set off. Come on, you stupid girl, isn’t it obvious by now that he’s not the one for you? And shouldn’t you be committing suicide round about now? If you don’t, you’ll be turning into one of those stupid brown things in not a large space of time. Your only hope is …
That stupid seagull, who happens to be flying around the wedding ship. He happens to glance in through the window of the mystery girl as she’s getting ready. The mystery girl is looking in her mirror, and reflected is Ursula! Gosh! The seagull – stupid as he is – realises there’s something wrong here, and flies back to tell Ariel, Sebastian and Flounder as quickly as he can. Realising what’s happening, everyone gets very busy. I can’t for the life of me remember where Sebastian goes, but the seagull is ordered back to the boat to stall the wedding as best he can. Flounder is set to work pulling Ariel out to the wedding boat on a piece of driftwood, an enterprise which frankly isn’t going to get anywhere, when you think about it.
As Eric and Ursula are progressing down the aisle, the demented dog starts snarling at her. Ursula responds by kicking it in the face. Eric, being unobservant as he is, doesn’t notice this (or perhaps thought the dog had it coming), and they carry on going. Just as they are about to be proclaimed man and wife (or man and octopus-in-disguise), the seagull and a band of starfish enter to delay proceedings. The starfish clamp themselves over Ursula’s mouth to prevent her from saying “I do” while the seagull does all sorts of irritating things which result in Ursula attempting to wring its neck (and about time too, I say), at which point the demented dog bites Ursula on the backside. Oh, the hilarity.
Meanwhile, Ariel has reached the ship and climbed aboard (and this time, I don’t have any objection to her doing this, since she’s got legs now). She finds Eric in fairly short order and somehow persuades him that she’s the one he’s been looking for. I can’t remember how, because she still can’t talk at this point, and anyway he’s pretty dead set on marrying Ursula. Anyway, he’s about to kiss her when …
The sun sets! Well, technically, that should be that, really, shouldn’t it. Ariel has failed in her mission and according to the terms of the agreement, she has to become a brown thing. Ursula returns to her original form and drags Ariel underwater with her, turning her back into a mermaid in the process. King Triton shows up at this juncture and offers himself in Ariel’s place, which – for some reason – seems to have been Ursula’s plan all along. She accepts and turns King Triton into a brown thing. She then – totally unjustifiably – claims that this means she’s queen, and takes King Triton’s trident.
Now, I don’t claim to understand exactly how the royal family works. Right now, they’re knee-deep in scandal and I would submit that they’re not working very well at all. It’s prime time to abolish them, if you ask me. But anyway, it does seem to occur to me that when one monarch stops being monarch, the rightful heir is one of their children, yes? Enter Ariel. She’s definitely King Triton’s daughter, whereas – as far as I can make out – Ursula is not. So why does Ursula set herself up as queen? Well, okay, it’s because she’s a power-hungry two-dimensional villain. What I mean is, why does Ariel let her? Ariel doesn’t make any move to get the trident, which is presumably where the power lies. I never thought Ariel was all that bright, but really, it does seem a fairly obvious move to make, doesn’t it?
Anyway, having become queen, Ursula decides that the first thing she’ll do is make herself grow to monstrous proportions. The reason for this is completely unclear, if ever there was one. I’m sorry, I’m getting bored now, but I don’t want to spread this out into three parts, so I’ll finish up quite quickly. Ursula starts prancing about crying about how clever she is, etc. She raises a storm and wrecks the wedding ship. Fortunately, Ariel saves Eric, again (though personally, if I were Ariel, considering how Eric has messed her about, I’d have left him to drown), and just as Ursula’s about to do something frightfully nasty, Eric steers the ship into her, stabbing her to death.
All the brown things become mermaids and mermen again, and King Triton recovers his trident. For some reason, this whole episode has convinced him that humans aren’t savages after all, and so he agrees to turn Ariel into a human again and let her marry the prince. He says the only problem is how much he’s going to miss her. I would actually contest this. Since he is perfectly capable of turning Ariel into a human, what’s to stop him turning himself into a human as well and going to visit her? Nothing. Thank you.
So Ariel marries Eric and presumably divorces him several weeks later when she realises how stupid and shallow he is. And she’s only sixteen years old herself. Not exactly emotionally mature. Trust me, this whole thing’s just a fling. It’ll never last. According to someone who I watched this film with, who would probably prefer not to be named, there was a Little Mermaid 2, which I would imagine dealt with the lengthy court proceedings.
I’ve left several major criticisms of the film until the end, because I like to finish up by discussing something which is incredibly mindless. I can only remember one of these major criticisms now, unfortunately, which should teach me to make notes before I start writing articles, but I think you’ll all agree that when you think about this, the entire film makes absolutely no sense (as opposed to the almost no sense which it does before you think about it). How the hell does anybody underwater talk???
Almost the entire first half of the film is conducted underwater, and as far as I have observed – having on occasion performed experiments – it is not possible to talk in any decipherable manner when one is underwater. Yet King Triton, Ariel, Sebastian and Flounder – to name the main offenders – happily conduct conversations as if there’s absolutely no problem. You could chalk it up to their being sea creatures, so they’ve managed to evolve in such a manner that allows them to speak underwater, but that does of course beg the question of how they manage to speak when they’re on the surface (especially that bloody fish, Flounder), and one is also tempted to wonder why they speak in English.
Right, I’ve written ten pages worth of stuff about The Little Mermaid, and quite frankly, I’ve had enough.