Of the many things that critics and audiences alike seem to struggle with when it comes to animation, it’s how, exactly, to take in sillier, wackier depictions of cartoon characters. “Wacky” or “loony” doesn’t really sell past the attention of younger audiences, despite older audiences’ insistence that Looney Tunes were great. (There’s a long, tricky explanation of why this is, which maybe I’ll get into later). As mentioned before, animal characters also struggle to be “accepted” among older audiences as well. It makes a certain kind of sense to combine “silly” characters with “animal” characters to maximize – or try to maximize, at least – the appeal to young kids (and consequently advertisers, but we all know about that aspect all too well).
What’s clear, however, is that certain concepts that once appealed to children seem to “grow up” with them well in their adult years, regardless of the quality of the original content (the scourge of nostalgia). This has led to numerous reboots and re-imaginations and remakes, but has also contributed to the rise of the comic book movies and the powerful, vocal supporters of video games – both of which were once derided as being in the realm of children. And while still many people define adult-lovers of such concepts as “man-babies” as it were, the more “mature” approaches to these pieces of entertainment have, for lack of a better term, validated them in a way that allowed them to be discussed and considered critically and commercially – as well as fanatically and in excruciating detail. This is the full and true nature of the “fanbase” – an assortment of people who bring to a piece of entertainment a level of analysis and exploration far outside the norm.
There’s a different between fans and fanbases. Their circles intersect, but the latter tends to commit to the entertainment of their choice to a much greater degree sometimes, uncomfortably so. Anthropomorphic fans were hardly the first group to “overdo” their enjoyment of an piece of entertainment. The nature of slash, for example, was part of the Star Trek fanbase for years, while “shipping” grew more or less out from The X-Files. Everything from Harry Potter to Adventure Time to The Last Airbender to Supernatural to Hannibal had, and has, vocal, active fanbases that explore their affection through several means, like fan fiction, elaborate cosplays, conventions, and deep, detailed forums and wikis. The important thing to remember that there was a period of time that these aspects we’re pretty much hated and/or actively avoided, save for conventions (where merchandise and advertising could be seen as promotional through pandering).
The hidden truth about fanbases, though, that their affection is, for better or worse, is not only genuine, but “serious”. To a certain extent, fans generally enjoy their likes while being somewhat removed from engaging in said likes with too much depth. Fanbases are loyal and analytical, exploring every frame and detail for clues and revelations that help them better engage or understand their enjoyment. Before, that level of detail was deemed uncomfortable, as the only way to “get” in that kind of depth was through personal encounters, which could lead to some awkward moments. The internet has allowed for a more “curated” process of engagement, through Twitter, forums, Reddit AMAs, Youtube, leaks, casting releases, and so on, and while there’s a bit more “control” in the process of dealing with fans, primarily through “official” channels, it also allowed for a host of unofficial expressions, some more aggressive and risque than most. The best method now seems to be to accept that part of the fanbase without necessarily calling attention to it.
Fanbases went from derided to de facto, with studios scrambling to appeal to them (while maintaining a strong, broad, mainstream appeal) through their films, films comprised mostly of tentpole, franchise starters. (I could get into a whole thing about “geek entertainment” becoming mainstream, but that’s beyond the scope of this pieces, and already has been written about to death). This ultimately leads to a discussion about the level of “seriousness” that these franchise starter should be. Should they be deep? Dark? Gritty? Comic? Wacky? Sincere? Ironic? It’s a tough line, one that the superhero genre has been struggling with for a while, what with Marvel films’ comic-serious approach contrasting with DC film’s ultra-grim approach – not to mention the number of TV/Netflix shows that vary wildly in tones, from the violently goofy Gotham, the adventurously witty Agents of SHIELD, and the dramatic, feminist Jessica Jones. This has been a constant argument with video games, comic books, and YA adaptations as well, and it’s starting to seep into the realm of cartoons, a realm where anthropomorphic animals thrive (for obvious reasons).
As mentioned before, anthropomorphic animals have mostly have been regulated to silly, cartoon wackiness; at most, movies had the “gumption” to push it to a level of rote, generic lesson-learning. Disney has been, for the most part, the only company to take its walking, talking animals with any sense of “serious,” from the dramatic, rueful tones of Scrooge McDuck, to the thoughtful, familial observations of Darkwing Duck (family is a big theme for the company: see, The Lion King), to the serial-based, capitalism-criticizing TaleSpin, to the gleeful, easy-going camaraderie in Robin Hood. As mentioned before, each one of these pieces of entertainment varies in the “type” of anthropomorphism used, but there’s a weight to these characters that is not often utilized in other talking animal entertainment. And while Disney always had a firm foot in the silly side of this premise (see, the weird, wonky Brandy and Mr. Whiskers), they also were comfortable with letting these characters be, and act, like adults, with real adult problems, and real, adult obstacles.
With Disney embracing the “adult” aspect of anthropomorphic animals today – with its vocal, internet-based fans, and their willingness to engage in the more risque elements of fanbases – Disney has not-so subtly embraced a fanbase once considered taboo and accepted (and somewhat encouraged) their participation within it. It also, smartly, placed Zootopia in that perfect spot between silly and serious, providing the visual lunacy that cartoon animals have always embraced, while also providing the characters within this world a depth that only Disney, really, would give its talking animals. It’s playing to its past and its present, within a fanbase notoriously shunned (while also being appealing to a broader audience as well), all while maintaining that perfect tone between comic and serious. Look closely, and it sounds exactly like the conversation we’ve had over Star Trek, Star Wars, superheroes and video games in years past. “Furries” were bound to be next.
But is this one hundred percent a good thing?
