The depictions of history and class relations in Disney’s The Lion King have been analyzed through multiple lenses by scholars such as Robert Gooding-Williams and John Morton. I don’t necessarily think that one argument was inherently wrong per se because it is in our nature as viewers to subjectively interpret texts according to our own values and beliefs. However, Morton’s argument definitely convinced me more. I will begin by analyzing Robert Gooding-Williams’ analysis in his article, “Disney in Africa and the Inner City: On Race and Space in The Lion King,” since it was published first.
First, Gooding-Williams stresses that Disney largely borrows from the Eurocentric ideology of G.W.F. Hegel, devaluing the richness of the African continent by reducing it “to the endless reproduction of a natural and pre-historic course of life.” According to William-Goodings, the “circle-of-life” theme is actually belittling to the African continent, for it implies that no progress or cultural advancement is made in that primitive “other” part of the world. However, I don’t buy this. I honestly don’t think Disney was intentionally trying to imply that there was no room for improvement and maturation to occur in Africa’s future. Instead, to me, the circle-of-life theme was an uplifting message that we need to accept highs and lows as natural components of life. In addition, the “circle of life” as described in the movie was mainly referring to the literal depiction of all life forms on nature as interconnected and united in the end. For example, Mufasa explains to Simba that from the smallest ant to the most ferocious lion, all animals are more alike than they are different—despite the grand diversity that exists, all organisms are simply trying to make their way in this world and thus should exist in a beautiful harmony.
Moreover, William-Goodings argues that although the film takes place in Africa, Disney really transforms Africa into “an allegory of American political life that denies that inner city blacks and Latinos have a rightful place in the American polity.” For his evidence, he cites that the hyenas that live in the Elephant Graveyard outside of the Pride Rock boundaries are analogous to discriminated minorities living in America’s inner cities because Whoopi Goldberg and Cheech Marin, who voiced two of the three main hyenas, were chosen to exude African American and Latino slang respectively. But, in his argument, Gooding-Williams overlooks one key piece of information: many main characters were voiced by minority ethnicities, not just the hyenas. Many of the “good” characters such as Mufasa, Nala, Rafiki, and Sarabi were voiced by African Americans too, so according to Gooding-Williams argument, Pride Rock should then also be considered a manifestation of America’s inner cities. In addition, Gooding-Williams points to the scene where the hyenas are lined up before Scar, claiming the backdrop is the “unambiguous image of a housing development in the projects.” However, as one can see from the image below, the backdrop simply looks like a tall grey structure—can’t that also represent a skyscraper, an ingenious engineering feat?
Finally, my last major problem with Gooding-Williams’ argument was his characterization of Rafiki. He explains that while the hyenas represent angry, assertive Blacks who seek political enfranchisement, Rafiki represents a distinct type of African American who does not fight for the rights of his people, but instead subserviently follows the will of the White folk. As Morton effectively points out, there is nothing that connects Rafiki to the hyenas, nor any convincing evidence that Rafiki is meant to represent an outsider too. In fact, as Morton argues, Timon and Pumbaa are more connected to the hyenas than Rafiki, for they are at the bottom of the food chain, consuming only “lowly grubs and beetles.” Thus, I do not think that Rafiki (a valued and trusted ally of Mufasa, the king of Pride Rock) should be characterized as an outsider who has abandoned his own kind, for there is little to suggest that he does not belong to the kingdom of the light.
Furthermore, what I really appreciated with Morton’s piece, “Simba’s Revolution: Revisiting History and Class in The Lion King,” was that Morton did not merely disagree with everything Gooding-Williams had to say, but he stated that while what Gooding-Williams stated could be a possibility, the film should be interpreted with a broader mindset. I agree that the film is “less black and white than Gooding-Williams recognises” because Scar is not the only revolutionary looking to ignite change, nor is corruption “restricted to a particular region.” While Scar does aim to create change by altering the “circle of life,” Simba aims to create change by altering the “circle of death” created by his Uncle. In addition, Simba’s unexpected brotherhood with Timon and Pumbaa, two creatures who are at the bottom of the hierarchy, shows that meaningful relationships can transcend physical boundaries and social class, thus blurring the separation between Pride Rock and the outside lands. In essence, Morton’s argument is more effective, for he shows that Gooding-Williams is too narrow-minded and simplistic in his analysis.
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