When I heard they were remaking Disney's "Beauty and the Beast," I was at once equal parts excited and terrified. This is my favorite Disney movie and one of my favorite over-all films period. With each piece of casting, I got more excited and less nervous. Since then it's been a rollercoaster of emotions with each announcement and reveal. But the one thing I know is no matter how the live action remake makes me feel, nothing can take away what the original means to me.
I have always been a Disney fan; they were almost the only things my mother bought on VHS. I have seen almost every single animated film released by the Walt Disney Studios and still "Beauty and the Beast" sits on top of the list. But this isn't a review of that flawless film, you can find one of those anywhere on the internet. This is about why I still cry every time I see this movie, why I own two copies of the Blu-Ray, why I've seen the stage play twice, and why I have a poster for the film hanging in my room. This is about my grandmother.
My paternal grandmother passed away over thirteen years ago when I was eight. She had been suffering from cancer for years and went quietly in her own bed. Most of that time is a blur or things I can slightly remember and things I'm reminded of by other family members. It is sad to not have a grandparent, but what is sadder is to not remember them.
My father's father died before my brother and I were born, so we never knew him to truly mourn him. My grandmother, however, was a big part of my childhood. She was always just around, whether for babysitting or our weekly dinners at her house, where my cousins and I made up games and ran around her house. But these memories are not as vivid as they once were. I can't remember what she sounded like and I only have pictures that spark any recognition of her image.
I don't even remember watching "Beauty and the Beast" with her, but after buying it on Blu-Ray over six years ago, restarting my Disney obsession once and for all, my mom told me that it was her favorite Disney movie to watch with us. I grabbed onto that piece of information and have kept it with me, trying to feel a connection with the grandmother I struggle to remember with this film.
Similarly, I will always hold "The Phantom of the Opera" close to my heart, because it was something my grandfather and I shared. He passed away this January and I still haven't been able to listen to "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again." Luckily, I had much more time with him, so the memories won't soon leave me. It's strange that these two similar tales of ugly men looking for love with beautiful women have such special places in my heart. I'm sure a therapist could help explain that.
We all have losses in our lives, but I find the best way to remember the people we've said goodbye to is to connect them to something that will never go away. Though I don't remember my grandmother as much as I wish I could, we'll always have "Beauty and the Beast."
