05 Mar Fairy Tales Rewritten: What Are Modern Adaptations Teaching Our Kids?
As Disney and other studios reinvent classic fairy tales, what subtle lessons about gender, race and consumerism are children absorbing? Dr Karen Brooks explores why revisiting original stories still matters.
The Magic — and the Marketing
What lessons are these sumptuous, happily-ever-after tales of beautiful and very stereotyped boys and girls, ethnicity, love and romance really teaching our kids, if they’re teaching them anything at all?
It’s impossible not to recognise the legacy of Disney — its global reach, its omnipresent trademarks, its beloved characters. From the magic castle that precedes its films to the toys, games and clothing that follow them into our homes, its influence in children’s lives is undeniable.
Arguably, however, it is for its animated fairytales that Disney is best known and loved. Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin — the list grows each year. Many of us take our children to these films with genuine delight, relishing the chance to revisit stories we grew up with.
Initially, revisiting fairytales in this spectacular form was a joy for me too. I had matured with an understanding of the importance these stories held as moral and ethical touchstones. But as I watched the colourful musical numbers unfold, a small voice inside me began to question what, exactly, was being retold.
As educational theorist Henry Giroux argues, children’s films exceed the boundaries of entertainment. They provide a high-tech visual space where pleasure and fantasy meet — but also where consumerism and commodification thrive.
Can we overlook the fact that underpinning these productions is a powerful commercial enterprise? It is difficult for parents to deny a child not just the movie, but the character replica, the themed bedding, the lunchbox and the game. The fairy tale becomes not simply a story, but an entire branded experience.
There is an argument that these objects educate children less about moral complexity and more about material aspiration in a consumer-driven world.
What the Original Tales Really Taught
This is not to deny the pleasure such films bring. Escapist fantasy has always been part of fairytales. But the classic versions were rarely as sanitised as their modern adaptations.
For centuries, folktales were told by firesides and bedsides. They were filled with violence, conflict and enchantment. They explored difficult themes — family tensions, jealousy, betrayal, justice, poverty, love and resilience. They endured in flexible cultural forms before being captured by the Grimm Brothers and Charles Perrault. While details shifted, their moral and psychological weight remained.
Psychologist Bruno Bettelheim wrote of their importance to children’s psychosocial development. These tales confront young listeners with basic human predicaments and reassure them that hardship can be survived.
Consider Cinderella, whose story can be traced back to ancient China. In many versions she has no fairy godmother and must rely on her own resourcefulness. Justice is often swift and severe; those who behave cruelly face consequences. Children, far from being traumatised, are reassured by this moral clarity.
Hans Christian Andersen’s original tale of The Little Mermaid is even starker. His heroine seeks spiritual enlightenment and ultimately refuses to destroy another for her own gain. The lesson is poignant: do not change yourself to win someone’s love.
The Subtle Messages About Gender and Race
In contrast, modern adaptations can shift these meanings. The animated mermaid’s transformation centres on appearance and romantic reward, and famously includes the suggestion that men prefer women who do not speak too much.
Aladdin also attracted criticism, particularly regarding racial representation. Critics noted that “good” characters were lighter-skinned and Anglo-accented, while villains were darker and heavily accented. Popular culture both reflects and shapes social attitudes.
Another noticeable absence across many adaptations is the mother. While varied family forms are shown, mothers are frequently dead or missing, even when female elders played meaningful roles in earlier versions.
Gender representations also warrant scrutiny. Female characters are almost uniformly slender and beautiful; villains, comic figures and fathers are more likely to carry weight. Heroines may begin independent, but often sacrifice their world to secure romantic fulfilment. Male protagonists are rewarded with status, wealth or admiration. The messaging is subtle but persistent.
Why It Matters for Parents
Does this mean these films are inherently harmful? Not at all. They can be joyful, creative and even empowering. But it does suggest that parents and teachers benefit from being aware of what children are absorbing.
Cartoons are frequently regarded as harmless. Yet it is often under the guise of fantasy that powerful ideological groundwork is laid.
There is no need to shield children from the darker elements of traditional tales. Such stories acknowledge that conflict is real and life can be harsh before it is happy — and in doing so, they validate children’s fears rather than dismiss them.
When children are familiar with original versions, modern adaptations can function as one interpretation among many, rather than the definitive narrative. In that context, “dreams coming true” becomes less about external magic and more about inner resilience, self-belief and kindness.
Perhaps the most important lesson is not found within any single version, but in our willingness to discuss them.
Dr Karen Brooks is currently an Honorary Research Consultant in the Centre for Critical and Cultural Studies, at the University of Queensland, where she lectures in the areas of media, youth, sexuality and popular culture using a psychoanalytical model.
