Last week while driving around Greensboro listening to All Things Considered, I was captivated by a set of interviews with children who had seen The Princess and the Frog.  Little girls were excited to see a princess who “looks like me,” and even a little boy or two noted that the film was important historically.  Clearly, these kids understood the cultural context for the newest Disney release.

Honestly, this will not be one of my favorite Disney movies – I can’t recall an individual song a few days after seeing it, and while the animation was at the expected high level for these hand-drawn films, it was not spectacular.  But, there are elements that recommend the film.

What sets this film apart from its predecessors is the depiction of race.  It’s significant that this is the first Disney film with an African American princess, but there is more going on here, too.

The Princess and the Frog has two “princesses,” one black and one white, and only one of them lands an actual prince, though both of them want to marry him.  Prince Naveen’s character fascinates me because he falls somewhere between the two “princesses” on the color scale and, you might say,  his depiction represents a fairly sophisticated approach to racial indeterminancy.  What is his race?  Who knows?  And no one seems to care.

New Orleans is the perfect setting for such a story because of the city’s history.  There’s jazz.  There’s food.  There’s a European influence.  (Naveen is from Maldonia, which is fictive but certain markers make it seem more European than not).  And, of course,  there’s the fluidity of racial identity that has always existed in The Big Easy in greater degrees than surrounding regions.

The Princess and the Frog is a baby step toward a post-racial America built on acknowledging our complex past while looking toward the future.  That’s worth a lot more than a memorable song or a showstopping animation sequence.