Introduction:
Over the years Disney has cemented its place in visual media’s controversial storehouse through frequently overlooked or possibly altogether intentional ableist offerings. Some of these are louder than others in the way they face a public response while others more rarely manage to essentially fly freely under the radar through the guise of stigma and a historically failing education system, particularly stateside.
The absence of information carried in the subconscious of the collective movie-going community boils down to a consistent lack of consideration by the perpetuated ableism that provides those with more inherent ability to remain in a position of inequitable power over those who were born with less to begin with, shoving them into a society which continuously keeps their intersected disabilities compounding into a never-ending avalanche of comorbidities.
Still, the cries of the intensely oppressed disabled population may seem to go unheard and overlooked, though that no longer remains to be the scenario the modern-day internet-bred generations are faced with. Once upon a time there existed an epoch which perpetuated negative portrayals of disability, with titles that included Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and The Hunchback of Notre Dame (both problematic titles in their own respects) at the top of the exposed list of viewings offered by the House of Mouse.
Foremost, this first feature’s focus firmly fixates on a more recent title likely much fresher in the minds of the younger moviegoing generations with the Walt Disney Animation Studios pixel animated action and adventure comedy feature Wreck-It Ralph. It served the brand-new franchise addition well to feature the talents of John C. Reilly (Step-Brothers, Gangs of New York, Kong: Skull Island), Sarah Silverman (A Million Ways to Die In The West, Saturday Night Live, Bob’s Burgers), Jack McBrayer (30 Rock, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Despicable Me), Jane Lynch (Glee, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Role Models), Alan Tudyk (Dollhouse, Firefly, Tucker & Dale Vs. Evil), and Mindy Kaling (The Office, A Wrinkle in Time, Ocean’s Eight).
The seasoned comedy-inclined cast members that delivered the commercially and critically successful picture may be more prominently known for their appearances in live-action projects over the years, but they certainly helped to bring Disney a phenomenally monumental success during a time when the animation juggernaut was widely believed to have lost its magic. The year was 2012 and after all, Frozen hadn’t come for another year afterwards, so Pixar Studios had been doing all the heavy lifting with outings that included Toy Story, Finding Nemo, and Monster’s Inc. over the decade prior to Ralph’s big-screen debut. Functioning on a meager budget of $165 million, the returns produced triple that amount with just shy of $500 million in worldwide revenue earnings. Down the line a sequel would even follow-up the animated masterpiece with 2018’s Ralph Breaks the Internet.
Despite the popularity of the film, one of the movie’s greatest strengths often goes widely overlooked, and that is the representation that Wreck-It Ralph delivers to disabled people. Admittedly, the author of this piece had very little understanding of disability prior to a craniotomy and had viewed the flick ten or so times before having a real relation to the themes that the animated adventure presents. With a better lens to view the movie through post-surgery, this contributor now finds themselves presented with an opportunity to share the additionally reflective layers that now exponentially propel the movie up on the list of disability-focused animation offerings from Walt Disney.
Addict’s Abstract:
Wreck-It Ralph utilizes the Alcoholics Anonymous/Narcotics Anonymous construct as a basis for presenting the misunderstood and stigmatized titular video game villain, with the story opening with our anti-hero introducing himself to a group of more recognizable characters from the massive multiversal gaming world. The audience consists of familiar faces such as Dr. Robotnik from Sonic the Hedgehog, Bowser from Super Mario Bros., Malboro from Final Fantasy, Clyde the ghost from Pac-Man, Satan, and a zombie, among other familiar faces amongst the anonymous fellowship.
“My name’s Ralph, and I’m a bad guy. Uh… let’s see. I’m nine feet tall. I weigh six hundred and forty-three pounds. Got a little bit of a temper on me. My passion bubbles very near the surface, I guess. Not gonna lie. Anywho, what else? Uh… I’m a wrecker. I wreck things. Professionally. I mean, I’m very good at what I do. Probably the best I know.
The thing is… fixing is the name of the game. Literally – Fix-It Felix Jr. So, yeah, naturally the guy with the name Fix-It Felix is the good guy. He’s nice enough, as good guys go. Definitely fixes stuff pretty well. If you’ve got a magic hammer from your father, how hard can it be? If he was a regular contractor, carpenter guy, I guarantee you he would not be able to fix the damage that I do as quickly. When Felix does a good job, he gets a medal. But, are there medals for wrecking stuff really well? To that, I say, ha! And no, there aren’t.
Thirty years I’ve been doing this, and I’ve seen a lot of other games come and go. It’s kind of sad. Think about all those guys from Asteroids, ooh, gone. Centipede, who knows where that guy is, you know? Look. A steady arcade gig is nothing to scoff at, you know, I’m very lucky. It’s just, I gotta say, it becomes hard to love your job when no one seems to like you for doing it.
I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t be feeling this way if things were different after work, but, it is what it is. Felix and the Nicelanders go hang out in their homes, which is just fixed, and everyone, you know… They go to their homes, and I go to mine, which is a dump. And when I say a dump I don’t mean like a shabby place, I mean an actual dump. Where the garbage goes and a bunch of bricks and smashed building parts, that’s what I call home. I guess I can’t bellyache too much. I got my bricks, I got my stump. If it looks uncomfortable, it’s actually fine. I’m good.
But, if I’m really honest with myself, when I see Felix up there getting patted on the back, people giving him pie and thanking him, so happy to see him all the time, sometimes I think, ‘man, it sure must be nice being the good guy.’”
“I am Zangief, I am bad guy. I relate to you Ralph. When I hit rock bottom, I was crushing men’s skulls between my thighs. I think, ‘why do you have to be so bad, Zangief, why can’t you be like good guy?’ And then I have moment of clarity, and I say, ‘if Zangief is good guy, who will crush man’s head like sparrow egg between thighs?’ Then I say, ‘Zangief, you are bad guy, but this does not mean you are bad guy.’”
“Let’s close out with the bad guy affirmation. ‘I am bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.’”
This exchange of admittances is a reflection of how the fellowship of addicts and alcoholics is the closest thing there is to a cure for addiction. In an Alcoholics or Narcotics Anonymous meeting each person is allowed the comfort of anonymity to provide their own backstory and struggles with the disability they face, with the relatability offered in return from strangers who understand the problems the person has during their time alone while encountering the daily dose of stigma that surrounds their respective identities. In the case of Ralph, his absence of identity through his programmed place in his own universe is a metaphor that tackles the idea that identity is not fixed and his own journey he embarks upon is one that sees him attempt to re-define himself beyond his assigned role.
Addiction itself is often overlooked to be a disability by the common community, as The Physician’s Statement from the nearly 100-year-old Alcoholic’s Anonymous 12-Step Handbook suggests that doctors must look at substance dependency as a disease of the body as well as the mind, and that addicts and alcoholics carry an allergic reaction to their drug of choice. While many people can have a few drinks or hits, there are many men and women who are unable to cope with the lack of the chemicals that they grow altogether dependent upon and powerless to.
Addicts and alcoholics must first admit that their lives have become unmanageable and that they are powerless over the substance that destroys their lives and loved ones. The fellowship of like individuals who share this struggle is the closest thing there is to a consistent cure for the common addict, and in Wreck-It Ralph, our titular character too faces his societally-dictated stigma by bonding with like-minded sick individuals, who too have no feeling of control over their own lives due to how the rest of the world decides to see and treat them.
In place of a sobriety coin Ralph seeks a gold medal, which are exclusively reserved for the “good guys” and this film sees him team up with a neurodivergent youth to tackle the challenge of claiming one for himself anyways. Enter Venellope Von Schweetz, a “glitch” with Pixlexia who is equally in need of feeling a sense of validation that is carried in the coin the two team up to obtain.
Neurodivergent Youth:
Sarah Silverman might be the last comedienne expected to tug at your heartstrings, but her pairing with John C. Reilly’s Ralph works wonders when it comes to touching the audience. The exiled child is stigmatized for having Pixlexia, which is a video game neurodivergence presented as a glitch, and throughout the film the aspect that causes her to be ousted by her peers is the very strength which allows her to ultimately overcome the stigmatized advesity she faces.
Throughout the film Vanellope is treated as defective, being excluded from racing and consistently bullied by Taffyta and the other clique-members, with her person even being deleted from the game’s code – a metaphor for the evil act of eugenics, which seeks to force erasure upon people deemed as defective or unneccessary such as the unfathomable movement during WWII.
Involuntarily disappearing and reappearing, the syndrome that plagues Von Schweetz is a lens through which we can better understand the plight of those with Tourette’s, autism, and even epilepsy. The resonation with this plot device in the damned and disabled helps provide some small semblance of representation for the masses who are overlooked in their suffering for being othered due to the way their central nervous system and bodies work. Like many disabled, Vanellope ultimately overcomes the societal stigmas and hardships she faces and fully embraces her identity as a strength and not a weakness.
Conclusion:
Together, both Ralph and Vanellope have character arcs in this story that deliver a powerful message about reclaiming agency and suggest the idea that such identity is not a fixed point that is decided by societal stigmas. Rather, it is a facet of a person’s character that can be empowering despite the dictation of cruel peers and misunderstanding loved ones. This challenges the surface-level roles that are given to members of a society which governs itself through clique-based mentality and stigmatization.
Wreck-It Ralph utilizes its layered characters to suggest that identity is more complex than we allow ourselves to acknowledge, providing a shared character arc between Ralph and Vanellope which offers the alternative perspective that identity is about authenticity and self-acceptance rather than external validation from others.
The message provided to audiences is indeed powerful, though the masses could view the film without ever having the realization that disability is portrayed in the slightest, getting swept away by the pixelated nostalgia and provoking comedy, too distracted by the talented portrayals from recognizable voices to realize the underlying diverse representation.
This is a victory for the disabled in terms of feeling seen, but it fails to deliver a concise message to educate moviegoers through the guise of anonymity and subversive metaphorical storytelling. A small win is still a win nonetheless, and here’s hoping there are continued strides made in the 2018 sequel Ralph Breaks the Internet.