100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #85: Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Directed by Clyde Geronimi. Produced by Walt Disney.
O see ye not yon narrow road
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.
-Thomas the Rhymer, by Sir Walter Scott
Faerie is a strange and perilous realm. On its surface, it may often seem too fantastical to be taken seriously, an escapist relic of some fondly remembered superstitious past. Princesses, castles, fairies, enchantments, curses, true love’s kiss; all of this perhaps seems quaint and far-off to our modern sensibilities. A realm of imagination, nothing more; an escape to fantasy from the hard reality of the modern world.
But the fairy-story is anything but a fantasy realm full of beautiful lies and imaginations that we tell ourselves. On the contrary, as our greatest storytellers have recognized, fairy-stories are often vehicles to tell us truths that our fact-obsessed world has obscured. They are, indeed, more real than reality.
G. K. Chesterton famously quipped that “fairy tales are more than true, not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” J. R. R. Tolkien also speaks of the deep truths that may be forgotten by the modern world but exposed by the fairy-story. He terms this the eucatastrophe, the “sudden and joyous turn” which “denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.” The truly great fairy-story is not merely and escape from this world, but exposes the deep truths that operate, as it were, in every world, truths which are so fundamental and yet so obscured by our fallen nature that we need to see it in a fantastical setting to once again discover them. This is the Deep Magic from beyond the Dawn of Time, the hope beyond hope that we must travel There and Back Again to truly appreciate; indeed, it is the evangelium.
In the cinematic realm, few people understood this principle better than Walt Disney. To be sure, his philosophy was clouded by other conflicting modern prejudices, but all of his early fairy-tale films display a keen understanding of the workings of Faerie. We have already extolled the virtues of his great morality play Pinocchio, but in my opinion his true fairy-tale magnum opus is the more stately, more mature, more devastatingly real Sleeping Beauty.
Sleeping Beauty reveals the deep moral and spiritual warfare that each and every one of us must face in our daily lives. We are all born as children of God, heirs to his kingdom, but are cursed from birth by sin and tormented by Satan, the evil-doer or (as it would be termed in Latin) Maleficent. This curse is part of our birthright; indeed, it is brought upon us by the actions of our parents before our very lives have even truly begun. We have powerful forces working on our own behalf (symbolized by the good fairies Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather in this film, though our own guardians are much less bumbling) but even they are unable to stop the fruits of the curse from coming true. We shall prick our fingers on the spindle of a spinning wheel on our sixteenth birthday; when our threescore and ten are are finished, we must inevitably die.
But like any good fairy-story, this one reveals the awesome truth that the curse can be broken; that death itself is not the end. All of the classic Disney princesses are wonderful, but Sleeping Beauty stands out because of its Prince Phillip. Phillip is one of the best Christ figures in fairy-tale cinema. Saints and wise people throughout history have likened our relationship with Christ to that of a bride to the bridegroom; likewise, Aurora is betrothed to Phillip from her very birth, destined to be with him in loving union. Because of the curse of sin, the two are separated, but Phillip comes into Aurora’s world in disguise and finds her, kindling this long-foreseen true love. The curse intervenes and Phillip must fight for his beloved, overcoming the traps of the enemy and using the sword of truth and shield of virtue to verily slay the dragon. Phillip shows strength and courage in cutting through the thickets and vanquishing Maleficent on his way to Aurora. But it is not the force of arms which overcomes the curse; it is true love which unites the Bridegroom and the Bride, resurrecting the cursed beloved and ushering in an era of peace and goodness. This is the eucatastrophe, the hope beyond hope which sets this story squarely within the realm of Faerie: in the end, death itself can be overcome and the Prince and Princess can live happily ever after.
The strong moral and metaphorical aspect of this story alone make it worthy of a place on this list, but it is greatly amplified by the sheer beauty poured into every frame of this animated film. Sleeping Beauty is visually stunning, evoking the feeling of an illuminated medieval manuscript or a stained glass window. The colors are stunning and every frame exudes the grandeur and beauty of Faerie. It is deliberately different in style from the rounder, gentler Disney house aesthetic of films like Cinderella or Pinocchio, setting it apart from those films and (in my mind) elevating it just that little bit more. The music, heavily inspired by Tchaikovsky’s ballet, is elegant, graceful, and wonderful, adding further beauty to a film already stunning in every respect. The truth and goodness of the story are amplified by the beauty of the artistry, creating a feast for the viewer in every respect.
Sleeping Beauty is one of the greatest fairy-stories ever put to film. Its strong moral aspect, allegory for the Christian life, and aesthetic beauty warrant its status as a true cinematic classic. It is a film which should be shown early and often to children, of course, but also can be deeply appreciated by adults, who should not be shy about returning to Faerie whenever they can to refresh their souls and recover those deep truths we often lose in modern life. Dragons can be slain, true love’s kiss will revive the princess, and at the darkest moments hope and virtue will conquer darkness and evil.
“In such stories when the sudden “turn” comes we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart's desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very web of story, and lets a gleam come through.”