My nine year old daughter came home from school a few days ago and told me that she is writing an adaption. It took me a minute, but based on her description — “a story I already know, but different” — I realized she was talking about an adaptation. I was excited to hear her version of The Three Billy Goats Gruff. One of my favorite things in the world is a well-worn story in new clothes.
The new Beauty and the Beast is a great example of the way a retold story can gain resonance for one who already knows the story well. Whereas the animated film from the 1990’s is fun and heartwarming, the 2017 live-action movie gives viewers more to think about.
In this version, a real man is made into a beast as a result of his cold-heartedness, and a real woman restores his humanity through love. But it is the character of Gaston that really got my attention this go-around. Because he, too, is a real person and not a cartoon, his words and actions take on new dimensions in this latest iteration of the classic fairy tale. Played by the Welsh actor, Luke Evans, Gaston has the kind of eyes that crinkle at the edges in seeming sympathy and understanding. He wants Belle because she’s beautiful and smart. That, he says, “makes her the best.” He pursues her with a doggedness that mostly annoys and doesn’t intimidate, and for the first many minutes of the movie, I found myself rooting for the suitor I knew to be the real villain of the story.
But when Gaston assumes the mantle of Belle’s savior, won’t take no for an answer, and is determined to kill the competitor who won his girl’s heart, it is surprisingly jarring, not comical. At least, it was to me. Watching the movie with my daughters, ages 14 and 8, I couldn’t help wanting to say something about Gaston, about the way he was behaving toward Belle, her father, and the Beast. I wanted to ask my girls if they thought Gaston was funny or scary. If they noticed that he was “beastly” despite how handsome he was. If they could discern where interest ends and obsession begins.
But I held my tongue. I didn’t want to break the movie’s spell. Instead I thought about the importance of story telling in its many forms and versions, in the experience of stories together, in and out of the classroom, today and every day.
