## Is Snow White singing… a protest song? Hold onto your glass slippers, folks, because Gal Gadot’s take on “Snow White” is taking a decidedly unexpected turn. Vulture argues that Gadot’s rendition of the classic fairytale isn’t just a saccharine retelling, but a powerful anti-performance piece. Intrigued? Click through to find out how a Disney princess is becoming a symbol of subversion, and what this means for the future of fairy tales.
The Shortcomings of Snow White
With Snow White, Disney set itself upon the task of expanding an 83-minute animated film into a one-hour-and-49-minute live-action spectacle. Logically, it makes sense that the studio took any opportunity to expand the universe of the film (mostly through confusing lore) and add new music. But it wasn’t until Gal Gadot’s Evil Queen actually started to sing that I began to process what was going to unfold in front of me.
Midway through the film, the Evil Queen discovers that the Huntsman she’d sent out to the forest to kill Snow White didn’t actually kill her because Snow White was simply too nice to him. In a rage, the queen responds in just the way you might hope and/or fear, by breaking into a breathy, lilting solo about … politics as described by Machiavelli in The Prince? That’s my best guess, at least, because it’s pretty hard to make out what exactly Gadot is going on about in the Pasek and Paul song.
She isn’t very interested in enunciating, and the lyrics themselves are deeply confusing. The songwriting duo have a habit of churning out late-2010s-style theatrical pop for the screen — you may wonder why so many of this kingdom’s residents are prone to stomping and yodeling at their celebrations like they’re at a Lumineers concert. They’ve written a big, belt-y solo for Rachel Zegler (free her soprano!), which is generic and fine and kind of an earworm. Gadot’s song, called “All Is Fair,” is stranger than that.
It’s aiming for something sultry and lexically dexterous, but because the world-building of the live-action Snow White is deranged, it becomes deeply convoluted fast. The Queen starts out condemning the Huntsman — “diminish him, then finish him” — and provides legal justification for this as “all is fair when you wear the crown.”
The Movie’s Poor Quality
The movie itself is devoid of delight, and its poor quality is not helped by its target audience’s potential nostalgia and expectations from the film. The bar is so low, and what people seem to want from them — a tickle of nostalgia, the familiar rendered new on a technicality, 109 minutes of child-friendly distraction — feels so different from the usual standards. So: Snow White is not as bad as it could be, while not being anywhere near good?
The Impact of Social Media
It’s garishly ugly and padded out with new tunes from Pasek and Paul that are as smooth and unremarkable as river rocks, all of which may or may not matter to its target audience, who could just be basing their decision about whether to see the movie on how unacceptably woke social media has informed them it is.
The Delightful Aspects of Snow White
But while the movie itself is devoid of delight, there is something delightful about getting to actually see the thing after the years of culture-war skirmishes that have preceded its release like a wrathful red carpet and discovering it’s about lefty infighting. The shortcomings of Snow White — which was directed by The Amazing Spider-Man’s Marc Webb and written by The Girl on the Train’s Erin Cressida Wilson — aren’t on star Rachel Zegler, who, despite being set up as a fall gal by the studio, gives excellent princess face while communing with CGI animals and belting out the chorus of the remake’s newly added “I Wish” song, whose role in the film you will not miss, given that it’s called “Waiting on a Wish.”
Rachel Zegler’s Excellent Princess Face
But the funny thing about her take on the storybook standard is that, in the context of the movie, the character is effectively a normie lib dithering about how to fight back against the fascist takeover of her kingdom by her stepmother, the Evil Queen, played by Gal Gadot in a glittery wimple and a performance so incredibly stilted it almost swings around to being good-bad.
Unexpected Themes
Snow White is an institutionalist, which I suppose is a given for a princess, pining for the idealized era of Obama’s/her father’s leadership, when her family would make apple pies so the working folks could have a small taste of luxury, and unable to conceive of a way to fight the Queen, who may be pretty flashy but who also came into power via the standard methods (marriage and magic).
Humorous Take on Snow White’s Character
In this revamped take, Jonathan is not a prince but a rebel leading a group of bandits who hide out, Merry Men style, in the forest. Thanks to these plot changes, Snow White doesn’t include one of the animated original’s most famous songs, “Someday My Prince Will Come,” instead opting for a new number where Jonathan taunts Snow White about her “princess problems.” It’s a tale as old as time — a sheltered Ivy League girl meets a rakish dirtbag leftist who lives with a bunch of roommates and who radicalizes her by negging her about her privilege. What’s left for a girl to do but attempt some coalition building among a ragtag crew that includes her septuple hosts, who I will not try to fit into this larger political allegory on account of their being abominations who can only be described as garden gnomes who’ve come to life while retaining their shellacked sheen.
Conclusion
Breaking Down the Unlikely Performance: “Gal Gadot’s Snow White Song” and the Art of Anti-Performance
In the article “Gal Gadot’s Snow White Song Is a Remarkable Anti-Performance” for Vulture, the author presents a compelling case for how Gal Gadot’s rendition of “Heigh-Ho” in the live-action Snow White and the Huntsman film is a masterclass in anti-performance. The key points discussed in the article revolve around the ways in which Gadot’s actions, both on and off screen, subvert expectations and defy traditional notions of a Hollywood leading lady. By openly embracing her character’s emotional vulnerability and seemingly “bailing” on her performance midway through, Gadot cleverly turns the tables on the audience, forcing them to reevaluate their assumptions about the role and her own acting abilities.
The significance of this phenomenon lies in its potential to redefine the way we approach performance and the boundaries of stardom in Hollywood. By embracing the idea of “anti-performance,” Gadot and her team challenge the conventions of cinematic storytelling and blur the lines between reality and fiction. This bold approach raises important questions about the role of the actor, the responsibility of the audience, and the shifting dynamics of the film industry. As we continue to navigate the evolving landscape of entertainment, Gadot’s unconventional approach serves as a catalyst for further exploration and innovation.
Ultimately, Gal Gadot’s “Heigh-Ho” moment serves as a powerful reminder that performance is a fragile, ephemeral thing – and that sometimes, it’s the most unexpected moments that leave the most lasting impressions. As we look to the future of cinema, we would do well to remember that the most remarkable performances are often those that defy our expectations, forcing us to reexamine our assumptions and challenge our understanding of the art form itself.