Fairytale fantasies: comics superstar sexes up Disney

[image-1]My childhood disagreed, but she continued. It sent a negative message. Ariel was practically naked and clearly instilled in the young a a sort of unrealistic,  Barbie syndrome: that to be pretty, you had to have scales. (Or maybe that build.) I mean, purple shells? She was obviously a fish-prostitute. Or Lindsay Lohan.


Sidenote: no one complains about Snow White. Why? Because she's ugly.


The real injustice, however, was the story. To find true love, the movie suggested, a woman had to give up her voice. Come on. Okay, I get that -- but it's only a Disney movie. (I'm kidding, Ariel. You're my everything.)


The truth is that any story can be dissected by an extremist and come out in a negative light.


But it's entertainment. A story with beginning, middle, end and successive, direct-to-DVD sequels. It's years of hard work, completed at last by potentially thousands of talented individuals. There's art in Disney movies, particularly those of old, the ones that didn't rely on computers to animate hair.


J. Scott Campbell, renowned comics artist, must agree. The artist got his start at 15 after winning a contest for Nintendo Power Magazine. He was the original artist and co-creator of WildStorm's Gen 13 and creator of its imprint Cliffhanger's Danger Girl. He's also garnered success and fame for his work at Marvel Comics, and after this year, he'll also be known for Fairytale Fantasies, a 2010 calendar spotlighting popular Disney princesses and women of fictional, fairytale prowess.


If you've ever thought Ariel was hot, you're probably about to feel a lot less weird. Though I can't guarantee your ex will want to get back together.


All 12 pages of the calendar are 20' x 10', easily framed and even easier to look at. Campbell's celebrity for drawing beautiful, stylized women is present in each of its pages, accentuated perfectly by colorist Nei Ruffino, and it's available for pre-order across the Internet for only $20.


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It would be easy to accuse the work of being sexist or offensive. Most women don't look like that, and Disney's certainly don't. But step back for a second. Look at the line work and the careful detail.




The vibrant colors. The planning and the process. Campbell and Ruffino made very small, but very powerful choices.


I've never seen a Little Mermaid with freckles, and I've seen a lot of versions.


I don't imagine the calendar will find its way into Disney stores at your local mall, and I don't think this is what fans were afraid of when ol' Walt purchased Stan. But official or not, licensed or otherwise, there's a melding of two worlds in Campbell's work: his stylized, comic genius and the pure enchantment of the world of fairytales.


It's too bad my former teacher's head probably popped off. Even she may have liked it.


It wasn't until my sophomore year of high school that I met my first, honest-to-God(dess?), self-declared feminist.

Now, by no means had I lived a particularly sheltered life. I grew up with Showtime and HBO. My step-dad did (and does) tattoos for a living, so a man named Pig used to babysit me. (When Greasy Jack was busy.) My mom was a hippie, and one day I'll actually tell my children that she backpacked from Ohio to California. And my dad's favorite joke was yelling, "Hey! Emersom!" at Baywatch (ah, '90s) or any woman at Toys R Us.  He never remarried.

(If you're unfamiliar with emersom, e-mail me and I'll fill you in. I don't know if you're old enough.)

So, sheltered I was not. Still, feminists were not a part of my life — unless you count Pig's Ol' Lady, who may have burned a bra had she ever worn one.

But back to my sophomore year. Like most young lads of 16 or 17, I was often found discussing The Little Mermaid. More specifically, whether or not it was a better movie than Beauty and the Beast — which it is, slightly, but that's another story entirely.

My journalism teacher, later mentor, nemesis and friend (of sorts), informed me that the movie was horrible.

Ariel? The Little Mermaid? My mermaid, horrible?

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