Deep below the ocean waves lives Ariel (Halle Bailey), the youngest of King Triton’s (Javier Bardem) daughters. The young mermaid has dreams of what life is like at the surface, among the humans, but is strictly forbidden from ever going there by her father. Curiosity gets the best of her, and she makes a deal with Ursula the Sea Witch (Melissa McCarthy) to become human for three days; if she receives the kiss of true love from Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King), a man she saved from a shipwreck, Ariel will remain a human, otherwise, she will revert to being a mermaid and serve Ursula for the rest of her days. 

Disney first adapted the Hans Christian Andersen story, The Little Mermaid, in 1989 and now has entrusted the beloved animated property to director Rob Marshall and writer David Magee for a live-action update. Alan Menken’s evocative score returns and is expanded on to account for the 135-minute runtime of the reimagined film; almost an hour longer than Ron Clements’ and John Musker’s Disney Rennaissance era work. In addition, Howard Ashman’s lyrics also return, albeit with some updates as well as the addition of new original songs from Lin-Manuel Miranda. 

Even before the trailer reveal that was built into the 95th Academy Awards program, the film had a bevy of undue criticism levied against it surrounding the casting announcement of Bailey, a young singer and actress who is of African American descent, in the leading role. She puts all that nonsense to bed by delivering what has the potential to be, without hyperbole, a star-minting performance. She has the pipes to put her renditions of the iconic songs in absolute conversation with Jodi Benson, the original voice of Ariel, and while the modern flourishes added to the songs are a bit jarring, it is not the fault of Bailey that Miranda put his paws all over the sheet music. When it comes to her performance, she excels even with the limitations placed upon the character; the first being half her body obscured by a fishtail and the second being when she has the freedom of her legs, her voice has been stolen from her, and lastly, her human co-star, Hauer-King, gives her almost nothing to work with as he plays the Prince as being in an unenthused haze so much so that Bailey must conjure up their chemistry by her reactions alone. She wins audiences over with a wide-eyed curiosity about the world and delivers an incredibly moving and emotionally resonant performance. It is no easy feat with all of the roadblocks presented, but Bailey pays homage to the animated character older audiences can remember and relate to while bringing her own energy and identity to the role for a whole new generation of viewers. In this way, The Little Mermaid is one of the more successful live-action remakes of the 100-year-old studio’s classic properties, but the film as a whole is still riddled with issues. 

Not only are all of the mer-cast held back by the fishtails, they just do not look good on screen. It severely limits Dion Beebe’s camera positioning in the underwater scenes because any of the wide shots that show full or at least 3/4ths of the body find the actors struggling with an awkward upright backstroke and a totally rigid lower half not to mention that, aside from Triton’s armor, the merfolk’s clothes appear to be painted on as if it were their skin. It is not as bad when they are swimming, but there is still a surprising lack of motion with the fins, and with all respect due to the surely overworked and understaffed VFX houses that contributed to this film, it just looks very rudimentary.  

It is all in service of this new Disney live-action style guide that has emerged as of late; a trend that was quickly pointed out against the Marvel Studios films for their uniformly grey and muddied appearance but has slowly revealed itself to be a company-wide endemic. For these storybook features, it seems that they are all utilizing the same color pallet safe for a few unique flourishes between the titles. Here it is the iridescence of the scales, in Beauty and the Beast (2017) it is the yellow of Belle’s gown, and if one were to guess, the upcoming Snow White (2024) will have a cloying use of red in an otherwise indistinguishable mess of forest greens, blues, and browns. The architecture in these films is also comprised of a similar set of shapes as if they were just reassembling the same LEGO Castle set in different configurations but never using any new pieces instead of highlighting the architecture and style of the locations where these films are supposed to be set. It strips these remakes of any visual identity that their animated counterparts enjoyed.  

Everything in these films also receives a heavy cover of gloss and this magazine-perfect style is more immersion breaking than awe inspiring. It is a tradeoff in taking the leap from the uninhibited freedom of 2D animation to this hyper realized format, and it finds Disney just constantly chasing that magic that they will never be able to recreate; at least not if they continue down this path. It has been a lingering fear in this modern series, but never has it been more apparent than here, specifically in the “Under the Sea” sequence. In an effort to make the film as real as possible, it loses everything that made it special and yet, Sebastian (Daveed Diggs) has to look around at this aquatic menagerie and call it a “hot crustacean band” when there is no conga line of dancing fishes, utilizing coral as instruments, jellyfish heads for drums and their tentacles as strings. It’s just a very expensive, underwater screensaver that feels punishingly long because there are no fun visual jokes to laugh along with as there were in 1989. The realism also extends to the character design of poor Flounder (Jacob Tremblay) whose role is greatly reduced here as if Marshall was unsure of how to incorporate such a sad and pained-looking sidekick into the story. While it certainly is a rough looking crew of supporting characters, Diggs, Tremblay, and Awkwafina as Scuttle the Northern Gannet all give fun and engaging vocal performances with Diggs making a run as the true star of the show even above Bailey. 

Which brings us to the next chapter of the Modern Disney Style Guide: music. Once again, Mickey Mouse has descended into the deepest dungeons far below the Magic Kingdom to trot out his poor, unfortunate one-trick pony, Lin-Manuel Miranda, to write new original songs for the film. While a fine lyricist in his own works, he is either incapable of or unwilling to work in anyone’s style but his own. He comes close with Eric’s “Wild Uncharted Waters,” but it is still quite clunky and lacks the nuance and word play present in Ashman’s classics. And then there is the outrageously egregious “The Scuttlebutt,” a rap-number which does not fit the tone or the style of the film at all and was probably specifically engineered to be just poppy enough to get itself an Original Song nomination – or the even more valuable meme status on TikTok – while its mere inclusion is a slap in the face to Ashman legacy. 

But to end on a high note, McCarthy surprises as Ursula; a safe and uninspired casting choice. Like Bailey, her performance draws on the style of Pat Carroll’s iconic voice work while also taking steps to make it her own. Some of those steps come off a little clunky, specifically the quick additions to the script of modern snark that makes this more a film of the moment instead of something potentially timeless. What is important thought is that it does not feel like McCarthy is just replicating Carroll even though the two do share many similarities. She is one of the only characters or elements of this film that is able to benefit from the live-action transition as she is able to intensify the facial expressions of the dastardly and conniving villain more so than was seen back in ‘89. Without getting too deep into the politics about the long tradition of queer coding villains – the original portrayal of Ursula famously designed around the drag performer, Divine – McCarthy commits to the role so that the flamboyant nature is not just mimicry but rather the effects of her own solitude and insatiability. The added backstory – like most of the padding around these characters – does not service the story well, but McCarthy really capitalizes on the feelings of jealousy, greed, and betrayal by her brother, Triton, so that she is not just hamming it up for the camera, but it feels as if she is truly driven mad as she flings herself dramatically across her lair. It would have been nice to see her Earthly persona, Vanessa (Jessica Alexander), given a little more to do, but making her debut so late into the story, Marshall is more focused on bringing his narrative to a close. 

As an introduction to the story for a new audience, this adaption works well. As nostalgia bait for the older crowd, it will pale in comparison to the memories of the animated film, but it does not feel as soulless as some of the other installments in this reimagined catalog. It is exactly what one expects when Deadline reports that Disney is remaking another of their properties, but this time there are actually high points to be enjoyed in Bailey, Diggs, and McCarthy. Does this film need to exist? No. Will this film hold up when it hits living rooms on Disney Plus? Also, no. But when looking at the state of filmmaking, specifically in animation and family entertainment, is there a place for the animated classics in which Disney built its empire? Again, and frighteningly, no. Without these remakes, the classics stand a real risk of fading away not because they are thematically inaccessible to a new audience – and thankfully, accessibility is no longer an issue as the Vault doors have been thrown open with the launch of their streaming service – but because tastes and styles have changed and what is in vogue right now, unfortunately, tends to be soulless and dead behind the eyes 3D animation. With a spark of life still about it, though, The Little Mermaid may be the first baby step on the path of course correction and audiences may be treated to livelier, breakout hits like Jon Favreau’s The Jungle Book (2016) or true reimaginings like Craig Gillespie’s Cruella (2021) as Disney continues to revisit the well to expand their upcoming slate instead of investing in the risk of developing new ideas.