"Things are not that simple, Rebbe. Some events do take place but are not true; others are--although they never occurred."
That was all I could say. Was it enough?
I did not know.
hes 19, with unlimited power, and he ain’t got a gf. the only time we see him interact with any women his own age is when he’s rejecting like 7 of them rapid fire. he pretends to date pacha in a gag that lasts like 10 solid minutes. listen to me god damnit
Okay, but just in case anyone is coming to tumblr dot com for my hot takes on 20+ year old kids’ movies: Kuzco super WAS gay (or at least coded as such) and of course, I didn’t get it until I watched it as a gay grownup.
He is played obviously camp and dramatic, for a start, and there is the aforementioned “hate your hair/not likely/yikes yikes yikes/let me guess you have a great personality” summary dismissal of all his potential brides. Then he spends dinner asking Yzma about Kronk (“so he seems nice? He’s what, in his late twenties?”) and otherwise being slightly obsessed with him.
Then there is the whole Adventure of Doom with Pacha, him being ever huffy about the Kiss of Life, and then the restaurant gag where Kuzco takes to playing Pacha’s fake wife and dressing up in ladies’ clothing with great gusto (reinforced by the waitress’ “bless you for coming out in public” remark when Pacha says they’re on their honeymoon). Then when he is finally de-llamafied, we don’t see him paired off with the obligatory girl from the lineup earlier, as might otherwise be expected in a Disney movie. Instead he is still single, but goes to found family it up with Pacha, Chica, Kronk, etc, which dare we remark is a very queer trope.
In short, I have no idea how a Disney movie with no white people (all the characters are Indigenous/people of color), a gay king, cross-dressing jokes, and the most offbeat plot of all time actually ever got made (can you imagine the Family Friendly Mouse doing that today? Let us also talk about Kronk because he is a brilliant deconstruction of both toxic masculinity and the musclebound henchman stereotype.) Other than that this was the Chaos Hour of animated movies in the late 90s/early 2000s, and yes.
So yes. There you have it. I will not be taking criticism at this time.
In response to the question “How did a movie like this get made at all much less by fucking Disney?” there was a recent Vulture article that outlines the whole shit show of a history behind this film according to everyone (writers, directors, VAs, Stings) involved. The gist of the story is that they fucked up making a whole, true-to-form Disney musical that never came to see the light of day SO BADLY that Disney switched directors, locked the writer’s room, and didn’t review a single script until weeks after the film was in theaters.
Please, read this article if you have some time. This story is wild, and involves directors being pitted against each other Bake-Off style and a shockingly intimate documentary created by the wife of Sting who, himself was heartbroken by the decimation of the songs he wrote for the film including cutting a fantastic Yzma villain song sung by Eartha Kitt that is SO DAMN GOOD but would not ever have fit the more nailed-down Yzma we would eventually come to know and love. It’s so catchy though, I’m doubling up on calls to action but please listen now:
holy shit read the article. it’s worth it and completely batshit
This is basically what my physical therapist had me do for my back problems last year and it helped with the pain so much! Also walk for at least thirty minutes a day, even if it’s just in small chunks throughout the day.
The shoulder thing really helps my bad back if I get a pain or stiffness. Get my shoulder blades together and I breathe a sigh of relief
a tip my sister taught me to keep your posture in check is to imagine your nipples are headlights. well, enjoy
[Image desc: Excerpt of the named work. Underlined text indicated in bold in following transcript.
I always imagined I would write a book, if only a small one, that would carry one away, into a realm that could not be measured nor even remembered.
I imagined a lot of things. That I would shine. That I’d be good. I’d dwell bareheaded on a summit turning a wheel that would turn the earth and undetected, amongst the clouds, I would have some influence; be of some avail.
