The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea (2000)

photo of the cover to the blu-ray two-movie collection of Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea and Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Beginning, showing mermaid Ariel on the left and mermaid Melody on the right, both facing the center of the cover; Sebastian the crab is at bottom center; three of Ariel’s sisters are bottom left; Morgana the lesser sea witch is center right
photo of the top half of the back cover to the blu-ray two-movie collection of Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea and Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Beginning, with one picture from each movie and a list of bonus features

Overall, this is good.

First, they made a smart decision to take the story further in time and focus on Ariel’s  daughter, not create a new situation all about Ariel. They do work in Ariel turning back into a mermaid, but they give her a darn good reason to do it. And to the extent that this plot rehashes the first—daughter longs for other life, rebels against family, bargains with sea witch—it’s done in reverse, showing the opposite side of the coin, and places Ariel to some extent in the role of Triton, making overprotective mistakes even if she’s gentler about it. As a bonus, Melody’s age nearly matches how much actual time passed for the audience between release of the original movie (1989) and release of the sequel (2000). Plus it’s just really enjoyable to see how Ariel’s life developed after the end of the first movie.

Second, they got back most of the original voice cast. Sometimes people are genuinely unavailable (even deceased), but too many sequels either don’t want to pay the original voice actors or don’t have scripts good enough to interest them. But audiences definitely want the real character voices.

Third, on the whole the story makes sense and holds together. The emotional arc rings true and provides a reason for the movie/special to be here. There are no gaping plot holes, glaring inconsistencies, or wild coincidences to keep the action moving or provide resolution.

That’s not to say there aren’t problems.

One, we have to overlook the implausibly long lives of some characters. Others (like Max the dog), if not dead, would be too old to be as active as they’re portrayed. Surely Grimsby would at least be retired.

Two, it’s a bit of a stretch that nobody can find Morgana for twelve years. Possibly the ice cavern is the top of an island/iceberg that floats around, not a stationary target, which would help. And of course Triton isn’t going to be intently searching the entire time—and maybe we’re supposed to think he stopped looking altogether after the wall was put up.

Third, the wall itself is dubious. Is Ariel’s reaction really going to be to wall off the sea entirely? This is hardly the only solution. And even if she did choose the wall, why does that entail cutting off all ties with Triton and keeping her daughter completely ignorant of her heritage? The decision to build a wall can kind of be explained but doesn’t feel convincing.

Worse than any story shortcomings, however, the songs fall short. At one point I wanted to say they would’ve been better off leaving out songs entirely; but music was such an essential part of The Little Mermaid that everyone expects it to have a role in the sequel, and the girl is named Melody! You’ve got to have the characters singing songs. We know Jodi Benson can sing, so I don’t understand why the songs featuring Ariel are so lifeless.

“For One Moment” ought to be the emotional highlight—the moviemakers doubtless meant for it to be, but it doesn’t fully rise to the occasion. It’s like the ingredients are all there but aren’t coming together right, a cake that was mixed poorly or underbaked. Did they need a bigger orchestra holding up the vocals? Did a musical director not spend enough time pulling the best performances out of the two leads? Were people involved, at whatever level, not given enough time to make it right? It isn’t bad, it’s just isn’t great, and suffers inevitably by comparison with everything in the original film. It’s not fair to expect everyone to be on the level of Menken and Ashman, and Disney is hardly going to go out and hire, say, Steven Sondheim for this production, but this one song at least needed extra magic it didn’t get. It frustrates me because I think the song could’ve gotten there, and almost did.

Triton knows exactly what to do to torment that big, bad bully shark.

The appearance of the wall in the time-passing moment is quite effective. The wall is ominous.

There are truths that children need to know about themselves, and when you conceal those truths, disaster results. It’s easy to say “they’re too young, we’ll explain later, when they’re older,” but life shows us that parents tend to be extraordinarily unwilling to ever admit the time has come, and inevitably the child feels cheated or resentful when the truth finally comes out.

Morgana knows where Melody is, and we might wonder why she hasn’t done anything to the girl in all this time. But Morgana hasn’t spent twelve years plotting to destroy Melody, she’s spent twelve years plotting to get the trident. Melody was never more than a tool on the way to that goal, and the wall is apparently enough to keep her looking for different tools (at least until Melody touching the magic pendant draws Morgana’s attention back to her). So to that extent the wall did work.

If this sea witch wants the same object as the last one did, she is explicitly trying to outdo her sister, so there’s a reason for the repetition. Note that the actual motivation is different—Ursula had a personal score to settle on top of wanting power. (Morgana does too, but it’s not with Triton.) Is Morgana not as scary or as competent as Ursula? Well, the story makes clear Morgana was always considered second-best.

Most of what Morgana tells Melody in the seduction sequence is quite true. “Triton stole my trident” is obviously baloney, but “Your mother kept this from you” and “You’re not just some human” are spot-on, and even the part about the mermaid transformation being temporary turns out to be accurate.

With some reflection, Melody might ask herself, “If Morgana can’t get the trident back by herself what makes me think I can get it?” Melody might be old enough to ask this, but the answer is that the thief knows Morgana and guards will be on the alert for her, but no one will be suspicious of innocent young mermaid Melody.

Sharks grow new teeth constantly. Knocking out Undertow’s teeth isn’t a long-term solution, although we can hope that without Morgana he won’t be chasing down Triton’s family to cause them more trouble. He’ll probably remain a bully, but maybe he’s practical enough to decide that being big again is good enough and he’s better off keeping clear of the Sea King instead of trying to settle the score by himself.

I am going to assume that Melody goes and stays with her grandfather underwater for a month or two every summer, and he makes her a mermaid for that time, and whether she wants to live as human or merfolk in the end is something she can decide when she’s older. For now she can experience both lives and learn who she really is.

Maybe Melody is the ancestor of the type of mermaid seen in Splash, able to have legs on land and a tail in the sea, because Triton someday magically changes her to be that way and she happens to pass this trait on to her children. (Did you know Splash was the first movie produced by Disney’s live-action studio Touchstone Pictures?)

In this story I truly appreciate the idea of claiming your uniqueness and taking hold of what makes you different from everyone else. You don’t need to give away what makes you special and become something ordinary.

Also see:
The Little Mermaid
The Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Beginning

Reflections: Creature From the Black Lagoon

As a child in the 1980s I was fascinated by the Creature from the Black Lagoon. He was creepy and dangerous but still had a kind-of-cute face, he was totally different from vampires, werewolves, and Frankenstein’s monster—and he had a glow-in-the-dark action figure (from Remco). I never saw the movie, however, until I was out of college, when I watched the entire trilogy.

So before starting the Blu-Ray Legacy Collection recently, I already knew the first two movies were good and the third one was a shameful disgrace.

cover of the blu-ray case for Creature From the Black Lagoon: Complete Legacy Collection

The original movie: Yes, you have to overlook the story’s ignorance of proper paleontology, the absurdity of that fossil hand sticking straight out of the cliff, and most obviously the question of why an amphibious fish-man is interested in a flipperless, scaleless, unclawed female mammal. But if you can do that, it’s quite enjoyable and still more sophisticated than most 1950s monster/horror movies. There’s an actual plot here, with the right mix of creature attacks and interpersonal conflicts and suspense, plus characters having understandable reasons for what they do.

But you can view the scene where the Creature watches Kay swimming, and swims along underneath her, in different ways. You could choose to see it as irrational and foolish, because he should have no interest in a human, or you can choose to receive it with the pathos the cinematography suggests, leaving aside the logic of it and taking the emotion instead. We can’t be absolutely certain the Gill-Man is the last of his kind, although the humans suggest this several times; but it does seem plain that he is alone. Could it be that he’s never looked on any female of his own species (if he hatched from an unattended egg, maybe not even his mother), and this is the first time he’s ever seen a human woman—someone roughly his own size, the same basic body plan (bipedal, two-armed, upright posture) and here she is swimming beautifully, much the way he does, performing pirouettes, turns, and twists in his native element. Just suppose for a little while that human hormones are sufficiently like those of his kind that when the water carries traces of her to his animal senses, his biology recognizes her as female, not male, and he is so lonely and isolated that the evidence of his eyes about her external differences does not matter. He might not think of her as outwardly attractive, and that might be irrelevant.

Revenge of the Creature (movie 2): Well . . . not quite as good as I remember.

One, bubbles from the air-hole in the top of the costume are starkly obvious in several scenes, something I didn’t notice in the first film (even though I’ve heard people mock that very thing).

Two, I was bugged by the way they put the Gill-Man in a tank full of saltwater fish (like sharks) and had him swim in the ocean, since the first film was very explicit that a branch of the Amazon River came to a dead end in the Black Lagoon, meaning it was not a saltwater lagoon (the word lagoon can be used of both saltwater and freshwater bodies). Not to mention that the creature was originally seen upstream along the Amazon, and followed the boat into the Black Lagoon.

Three, not only does the Gill-Man become obsessed with a human woman, he only wants this exact woman and inexplicably manages to track her to her hotel after he runs off from the sea-quarium where he’s been in a tank since he arrived unconscious in Florida.

Revenge of the Creature has its problems, but it’s still a legitimate sequel, and again much better than most 1950s monster/horror movies.

Both of the first two movies deserve credit for showing us intelligent, articulate, capable, and (mostly) brave scientist women pursuing more than just romance. (Although Kay’s job plays such a small role in the first movie you might forget it once they’re on the boat.) I’m sure it’s an attempt to appeal to male audiences more than a desire to reject stereotypes, but they effectively shut out any suggestion that being smart and determined and scientific is incompatible with attractiveness—or in any way undesirable.

You can fault the movies for still insisting that women need to be glamorously attractive, and for showing these two in swimsuits at every occasion, and yet the filmmakers could have found some other excuse to wedge them into the storyline, but chose to present them as educated and perfectly qualified for the work at hand.

In the second movie there’s a conversation mid-story where the female lead and her fellow-scientist boyfriend note that men don’t have to choose between family and career, but women do. He says, “I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, it’s just a fact.” And she answers, “It doesn’t seem right to me.” Which is never contradicted.

Also of note in the second movie is that the supporting male character, who is clearly more handsome than the male lead and has a decidedly better physique (you see both of them shirtless in swim trunks, sometimes side-by-side), does not end up with the beautiful woman.

Both movies suffer from overuse of the “Look! A creature!” theme (ba-ba-BAAAA!!!), and if I had complete control of the audio track I would also quietly brush away a certain amount of female screaming.

The Creature Walks Among Us (movie 3): With the first two movies there were things you had to overlook, like certain facts and practices of science. For the third movie you need to overlook even more science, along with . . . whatever you liked about the first two.

All right, yes, there are twenty-five minutes of a Gill-Man movie in there: a dive (including obligatory woman-in-swimsuit), shots of the Creature swimming, a hunt for the Creature, an attack by the Creature, and then . . . we’re into some other kind of movie, with forty minutes left. 

a simple chart showing how the timeline of the movie The Creature Walks Among Us is divided up

And the Gill-Man is gone, changed into something without scales, without claws, without gills, but suddenly bulked up like an NFL player. His face is reminiscent of a peeled Gill-Man, but it’s not really him. If the filmmakers wanted to make me feel sorry for him, they did succeed in that, because the way he’s mutilated in this story is tragic.

I can’t imagine why they would take an iconic look already proven to please audiences and change him so drastically . . . except a desire to milk the title for more sequels without spending so much on makeup and costuming. Which didn’t work, since there were no more Creature From the Black Lagoon movies.

There are no female scientists in Walks Among Us. Instead you’re offered the unhappy wife of a rich man. At the start she appears to be a spoiled, petulant, rebellious wife looking to cozy up to some other man, a woman who married for money and is now bitter about it. Curiously, though, over the course of the movie she becomes increasingly sympathetic as you see what a grade-A jealous swine her husband is, and you begin to realize she’s not on the prowl at all. Then to complicate things a little more, another character goes out of his way to say the husband is not simply jealous but mentally ill (“disturbed” is the word used) and in need of help. So maybe his behavior, foul as it is, is slipping beyond his control, and we can feel some pity for him too—perhaps with the right help he wouldn’t be acting this way anymore and would see how wrong he’s been?

The subplot about this couple is to me much more interesting than the wreck that was made of the monster movie.

All three films deserve high marks for the underwater photography, which was first-rate. In addition, Ricou Browning, the man in the Creature suit underwater (uncredited on screen; other actors, also uncredited, played the Gill-Man on land) deserves particular praise because his swimming was graceful and elegant, and he did it in costume toe to scalp, which must have been horrendously difficult.

And it should not be forgotten that the Gill-Man looks amazing. The visual design, by Milicent Patrick, is intricate, menacing, and decidedly amphibious, while retaining human-ish personality and a face that can be seen as longing, wounded, and enraged, conveying understandable emotions. It’s hard to design a monster face that can carry all that despite having a limited range of actual motion. And then the physical suit was top quality. This was not done on the cheap. The actual costume has the detail and texture of reality, in and out of the water, and is as convincing as a costume can be for a creature you know does not exist. Some air bubbles here, a glimpse of a fold there, the eyes look a little off in some shots? Maybe, but those things last a second or two, and the effect sustained the rest of the time is one of realism. He’s heavy on land and graceful in the water, and the Creature does not look out of place walking around that lagoon or swimming within it.

I’ll always love the character, and I won’t accept the original movie being lumped in with “B-grade” monster movies. I’ve seen plenty of those, and Creature From the Black Lagoon is a considerable step above them.