Lines In Disney Movies That Mean More Than You Realized

For generations of people all over the world, Disney is a fountain of childhood dreams, happily ever afters, and charmingly docile animal sidekicks. Princesses meet their princes, evil is vanquished, justice is found, and love wins the day. A dream is a wish your heart makes, after all, and if it takes a little more elbow grease than your fleet of crafty mice can handle, there's always a genie lying around somewhere. 

But it's not all rainbows, mermaids, and 24-hour engagements in the land of Cinderella and Snow White. In fact, even those most starry-eyed of Disney classics contain nods, references, and outright confrontations of weirder, often darker realities. Sarcasm, irony, and historical fact are as much a part of these movies as sunshine and stallions. Everything from the gruesome parts of original fairy tales to bits of American music history are there to be found by the sharp-eyed viewer, and relished as hitherto unknown dimensions within family-favorite films. Here is a brief sampling of those moments across the Disney canon, summed up in single lines of dialogue. 

Hercules put a zany, kinetic spin on the classics of Greek mythology. The muses, who narrate the entire movie, are divas of the highest order. Megara is a sarcastic femme fatale with a complex past. Hercules himself is portrayed as more of a 20th century pop culture icon than a hero of myth, complete with jokes about "Air Herc" sandals and tie-in soft drinks.

The legendary labors of Hercules were no exception to this remixing. Phil, Herc's grizzled coach, informs him at the midpoint of the movie that he needs to "get a girdle from some Amazons" with a lascivious wink. This is, in fact, a nod to Hercules' ninth labor, in which he is commanded by King Eurystheus to fetch a magical belt from Hippolyte, queen of the Amazons. The belt, given to Hippolyte by the war god Ares, might have been handed over peacefully if the goddess Hera had not disguised herself as an Amazon to sow seeds of distrust. In the end, the Amazons attack Hercules, Hippolyte is slain, and the belt is taken. Not the stuff of Disney dreams, but very much the stuff of ancient myth.

Beauty and the Beasts's 2017 remake was full of ideas that set it apart from the 1991 animated classic. Belle gained a mother, a protofeminist ethos, and a genius for invention all her own. The Beast got a brand new song all about how helplessly in love he is with his comely captive. An opera-singing wardrobe developed a star-crossed romance with a harpsichord. It wasn't exactly new, but it was certainly different.

But Disney did return to the original in one line — the original 18th century fairy tale, that is. In the classic story, Belle, in contrast to her materialistic sisters, asks their traveling father for nothing more than a rose. This bit of the story was excised from the animated version, and though most of the story didn't make it into the 2017 remake — Belle is still an only child with qualities beyond sweet meekness — it did include Belle's request of a rose. This is the rose that, as in the fairy tale, leads to Maurice's entrapment and Belle's trade of her life for his. It's a great incorporation of the foundational tale, and a reminder of just how much can hinge on the simplest request.

The Princess and the Frog is one of very few Disney movies to be rooted in a specific place and time. Tiana and Naveen don't gallivant around vaguely medieval forests or distant imaginings of the Middle East — they're in New Orleans, in the early 1920s. Though Naveen's fictional lineage is a more whimsical melange of language and aesthetics, Tiana is rooted in ironclad history. She and her mother live in the very real shadow of New Orleans wealth, she lost her father in World War I, and she is, in fact, based on legendary chef Leah Chase.

Tiana's story isn't the only one rooted in realism, however. Louis, the jazz-loving, trumpet-playing alligator, is on the cutting edge of New Orleans' vibrant music scene of the time. "I know that tune!" he booms in the midst of his introduction. "'Dippermouth Blues!'" "Dippermouth Blues" is, in fact, a 1923 jazz classic, possibly made famous by the character's namesake, Louis Armstrong. Dippermouth was also a nickname of Armstrong's, albeit one less famous than the legendary "Satchmo." No wonder The Princess and the Frog's soundtrack remains a rollicking delight.

Atlantis: The Lost Empire is a fascinating deviation from the Disney canon. A sci-fi tale set in 1914, it follows the journey of a ragtag bunch of mechanics, scientists, and engineers to the lost kingdom of Atlantis, led by excitable linguist Milo Thatch. Though it's perfectly fine for children to watch, it confronts them with phrases like "adventure capitalist" and the specter of crumbling societies. In the end, the enemy isn't just one man bent on destruction — it's the concept of greed itself, fulfilled by any means necessary.

One line highlights this in particular. When Milo realizes he's led the mercenary Rourke right to Atlantis' power source (which Rourke seeks to steal and sell to the highest bidder), Milo exclaims that he's given away the radiant crystal to "some nutcase who's probably going to sell it to the Kaiser!" He is referring here to Kaiser Wilhelm II, then the center of the burgeoning crisis that would soon explode into World War I. The war's looming darkness casts a pall over the entire movie — it is largely unsaid why Rourke is so especially interested in selling a source of energy, but the audience knows it's because the world is clamoring for it with a unique intensity. This is the only line in which it is stated outright, but Milo knows exactly what's coming as a student of history, and so he grasps the awful truth of what he has done.

In the midst of Frozen's snow-swept conflict, a couple of men are engaged in their own drama. Left to cope with Elsa's winter, they are glimpsed in passing. One exclaims, No, no, you've got the bark facing down! The bark needs to be face up!" The other man frowns and replies, "Down is drier!" They tussle, but are quickly forgotten in the scope of the wider story as another example of the mess that needs to be fixed. Alas, poor Arendelle, rent by tensions large and small!

Actually, the moment is a cheeky nod a real world debate. In 2013, Norway was divided by a fierce battle over — you guessed it — the best way to stack firewood. Sparked by a TV broadcast starring Lars Mytting, author of the bestselling book Solid Wood: All About Chopping, Drying and Stacking Wood — and the Soul of Wood-Burning, 20 percent of the Scandinavian nation tuned in to the program. Unsurprisingly, arguments sprung up like mushrooms in the wake of a fierce rain, all consumed with the best ways to stack wood, dry wood, and burn wood. If only the denizens of Arendelle could have tuned in — perhaps a lively debate could have helped them relax as they waited for our heroes to save the day.