What's up Wisecrack, Jared again. Today, we’re diving into the film series
that’s equal parts heart and fart —Dreamworks’ enduring fairy tale sendup, Shrek. The Shrek franchise is well-known for its
signature brand of humor, which parodies fairy tales by juxtaposing classic tropes of the
genre with modern-day language, attitudes, and pop culture references. When the films are working (and they don’t
always), they make us laugh by showing what happens when the way we think the world ought
to be crashes up against the way that it actually is. At their best, the films are a radical celebration
of diversity, love, and the chaotic messiness of real life overthrowing pretension, rigidity,
and prejudice. At their worst, well... But we’ll get to that later. Welcome to this Wisecrack Edition on The Shrek
movies: Deep or Dumb? As always, spoilers for an 18-year-old franchise
about a Scottish ogre and an annoying talking donkey. “I’m makin’ waffles.” Alright guys first, a quick recap of the series-to-date. We meet Shrek, an ornery bachelor of an ogre,
enjoying his life of solitude and Smash Mouth. Shrek’s idyllic existence is turned upside-down
when one Lord Farquaad transforms his beloved swamp into a forced resettlement camp for
fairy tale creatures. “We were forced to come here!” “By who?” “Lord Farquaad. He hoofed und he poofed und he...signed an
eviction notice.” To get his land back, Shrek agrees to go on
a quest: He—and chatterbox sidekick Donkey—will rescue Princess Fionna from a dragon’s lair,
so that Farquaad can marry her and become a legitimate king. “What I mean is, you’re not a king yet. But you can become one! All you have to do is marry a princess.” On the way back to Duloc, Shrek and Fionna
inadvertently fall in love, and are eventually married. The rest of the films in the series follow
Shrek and Fionna through several stereotypical hallmarks of newlywed life: meeting the parents
in Shrek 2; preparing for parenthood in Shrek the Third; and adjusting to a more settled
lifestyle in Shrek Forever After. In the first film, main antagonist Lord Farquaad
is obsessed with the pursuit of “perfection.” “I’m not the monster here—you are! You and the rest of that fairy tale trash,
poisoning my perfect world...” But what is “perfection?” According to Farquaad, it is a clean, well-ordered
kingdom, populated by citizens mechanically going about the roles he has assigned them: ”Don’t make waves, stay in line, and we’ll
get along fine, Duloc is the perfect place.” Even his desire to marry Fionna is driven
more by compulsive completionism more than any real political need. As lord of Duloc, it is clear that he already
wields absolute power over his subjects, to the point of establishing a cult of personality
around his image: But to be de facto ruler is not enough for
Farquaad; he insists upon ruling, as he puts it: “the most perfect kingdom of them all” His desire to marry Fionna comes not from
love, but from a need to satisfy the Magic Mirror’s definition of kingship - “Will you be the perfect bride for the perfect
groom?” Farquaad and Duloc are rigid and inflexible,
insisting on arbitrary rules and ideals, rather than adapting to the situation at hand. Many of the film’s best jokes work by drawing
attention to the vast gulf between their delusions and their reality: Shrek thus serves as a neat illustration of
a theory of humor developed by Henri Bergson in his 1900 essay collection, Laughter. Bergson argues that “The laughable element
[...] consists of a certain MECHANICAL INELASTICITY, just where one would expect to find the wide-awake
adaptability and the living pliableness of a human being.” In other words, continuing to move as a result
of momentum, or continuing to act out a preconceived notion of how the world works. This covers everything from slipping on a
surprise banana peel to failing to adapt to changing social circumstances. Enter Shrek. Shrek is everything Farquaad is not: filthy,
smelly, and pragmatic, rather than idealistic. These traits make him the ideal comic foil
to a man with his head firmly up his own ass—and to the society he has created. Shrek is the ugly green reality check Duloc
desperately needs. Whenever he encounters an unnecessarily complex
system or highfalutin attitude, his blunt approach to life brings it crashing down. Where there is a stifling order, he deflates
it with humor, or creative disorder: “I’m an agent of chaos” To kick the movie off, Shrek literally wipes
his ass with a book of fairy tales: “Oh Lordy!” Later, he blatantly ignores social norms which
the human citizens of Duloc follow. even when they believe their lives are in
immediate danger: His no-nonsense approach to Fiona’s rescue
highlights the obvious flaws in the princess’s (and, by proxy, the audience’s) understanding
of heroism: “You’re meant to charge in, sword drawn,
banner flying—that’s what all the other knights did!” “Yeah, right before they burst into flame!” Even his speech patterns undercut the pompous
and fake “medieval” dialogue used by characters caught up in their own delusional stories. “Wait, sir knight! This beeth our first meeting. Should it not be a wonderful, romantic moment?” “Yeah. Sorry lady, there’s no time.” Just by being himself, Shrek points out the
absurdities of people like Farquaad and places like Duloc—he simplifies and loosens up
things that have gotten over-complicated and inflexible. At the same time, he complicates ideas the
rest of his world takes for granted. Most importantly, in standing up for himself
and ogres in general, he calls into question the idea that there can be simple, binary
divisions between “good” and “bad”; beauty and ugliness; perfection and imperfection. He explains this to Donkey in one of the film’s
most iconic scenes: “Onions have layers; ogres have layers. Onions have layers - you get it! We both have layers” and later: “Man they ain’t nothing but a bunch of
little dots.” “You know, Donkey, sometimes things are
more than they appear.” And in spite of Shrek’s sarcasm—and for
all the film’s reputation as a smart-alecky, postmodern irony-fest—the film revolves
around a remarkably hopeful and earnest central idea: that real life, in all its stench and
ugliness, is way more fun and full of love than the fantasies we dream up for ourselves—and
that enjoying its imperfections is the key to fulfillment. In the film’s final moments, the reality
of the friendship and love between Shrek and his band of misfits overcomes the fantasy
of a tyrant (and turns him into dragon chow): “I will have order! I will have perfection! I will have—AHHH!” Ultimately, these unorthodox but real relationships
break Shrek out of his own self-involved fantasies of contented solitude: “They judge me before they even know me... That’s why I’m better off alone.” Shrek takes a decisive step towards happiness—”ugly
ever after,” in the movie’s language—when he finally accepts his developing friendship
with Donkey and his feelings for Fiona. So, the first Shrek movie: Deep! And score for Jeffrey Katzenberg’s upstart
Dreamworks studio sticking it to the Disney machine. Sorry, Michael Eisner. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Shrek 2 builds on the foundation Shrek lays
down. Like the first film, the sequel gets a lot
of its laughs by dragging pompous figures like Prince Charming through the mess of the
physical world. “He will rue the very day he stole my kingdom
from me!” Also like Shrek, Shrek 2 takes a dim view
of government and the politicians who run it. While from the outside he appears to be a
decent enough king, Fiona’s father Harold is ultimately revealed to be in debt to, and
under the control of, the Fairy Godmother—in other words, he is in the pocket of big business. Indeed, by turning the Fairy Godmother into
a literal manufacturer of happy endings, Shrek 2 raises interesting questions about
one of the first film’s guiding ideas. Specifically, in a world where the strongest
of human emotions are sold by the gallon, what is this “true love” that the characters
have been talking about all this time? Is it even real? “You can’t force someone to fall in love.” “Oh I beg to differ! I do it all the time.” To break it down even further: the Fairy Godmother,
maker of happy endings and fake emotions, isn’t queen bitch of just any old kingdom. She secretly wields power over a town that
is explicitly designed to lampoon that place that brews up a lot a piping-hot majority
of our own cultural BS: Beverly Hills, and nearby Hollywood. From the letters on a hill mimicking the iconic
Hollywood sign to the storefronts and movie posters, to the red carpet that greets Shrek and Fionna
as they step out of their horse-drawn limousine, Far, Far Away is full of visual cues linking
it to a town with a worldwide reputation for superficiality, run by an industry whose main
output is fictional stories meant to stir up emotion. By setting its story in such a place, the
film draws attention to the roles played by major Hollywood studios—and the system in
which they operate—in creating the out-of-touch fantasies about love, heroism, and perfection
that inspired the series in the first place. Adorno, eat your heart out. Ultimately, the film answers its questions
about “true” love in much the same way Shrek did, while raising the stakes like a
good sequel should. Let’s take a look: Like Farquaad before him, Harold is possessed
by the need to project an image of perfection—to the point where he sold away his daughter’s
future to transform himself from a frog into a human. Unlike Farquaad, Harold eventually redeems
himself by saving Fionna from the Fairy Godmother’s love potion, accepting his unusual son-in-law
for who he is, and finally dropping his human disguise: “You’re more that man today than you ever
were. Warts and all.” Then, as the clock strikes midnight, Fionna
deliberately waits for the beauty potion to wear off, so she and Shrek can revert back
to their usual selves: “I want what any princess wants. To live happily ever after—with the ogre
I married." Both of these demonstrations of love for others
involve acceptance of imperfection, but with a twist. Unlike in the first movie, both Harold and
Fionna are given opportunities (represented by the potions) to live out the rest of their
lives according to a societally sanctioned model of happiness. Harold can maintain his kingly appearance
by roofying his daughter; Fionna can have a body that fits normative standards of hotness
by sealing the beauty potion with a kiss. Imbued with this new power of choice, both
father and daughter still reject superficial perfection in favor of imperfect, but “true”
love. So Shrek 2 also gets a “Deep.” And this, unfortunately, is where things take
a turn for the stupid. Clocking in at a loooong ninety-two minutes,
Shrek the Third represents a bizarre departure from everything the series has stood for thus
far. With Harold dead and Fionna pregnant, Shrek
is terrified by the looming responsibilities of kingship and fatherhood. Yeesh. Hoping to get at least one thing off his plate,
Shrek tracks down Arthur Pendragon, Harold’s nephew and the only other viable heir to the
throne. In his absence, Prince Charming raises an
army of jealous villains to invade Far, Far Away and secure their own “happily-ever-afters.” The final showdown sees young Arthur step
into his role as king by convincing the villains that only they have the power to make themselves
happy. While the film does have a few great standalone
jokes: “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Peter Pan.” “His name’s not Peter!” “Shut it, Wendy.” It’s missing the core of what made the first
two movies in the series so powerful. Listen to Arthur’s big speech to the villains: “You’re telling me you just want to be
villains your whole lives? Didn’t you ever wish you could be something
else? If there’s something you really want, or
someone you really want to be, then the only person standing in your way is you." "Me?" Coming from this series, this is really, really
dumb. Putting aside for a moment that Arthur seems
to have lifted his dialogue straight from a YouTube workout motivation video, what’s
so off about this moment is that it completely undercuts what the series has done so far. Shrek and Shrek 2 point out the inherent problems
in black-and-white thinking: dividing people into camps of “good” and “bad,” “heroes”
and “villains,” is both unrealistic and harmful. The films culminate in main characters accepting,
and even celebrating, the inevitably flawed reality they inhabit. Shrek the Turd (you heard me) uncritically
promotes the idea of “villainy” as an objective state of being — one that villains
can escape only by aligning their behavior with what is socially acceptable. It completely sh*tcans the complex discussion
around acceptance that carries the first two films, and opts instead for warmed-over cliches
from a self-help seminar. Oh, and you get the privilege of watching
a group of teenage girls hit on a middle-aged man. “This is like totally embarrassing, but
my friend Tiffany thinkest thou vex her so soothly, and she thought perchance thou would
wanna ask her to the Homecoming Dance or something.” “Uh, excuse me?” “It’s like whatever. She’s just totally into college guys and
mythical creatures and stuff.” This movie is Dumb. Shrek Forever After doesn’t fare much better. Like Shrek the Third, it does have some stand-out
moments: Also like Shrek the Third, it completely abandons
the take on happiness and imperfection that made the first two entries in the series so
interesting. The film is a Shrek-style spin on the It’s
a Wonderful Life formula you’ll remember from: the original Jimmy Stewart production;
that Muppet Christmas movie where Kermit gets traumatized by a restaurant serving frog legs;
and many other iterations. Feeling trapped by the daily grind of responsible
parenthood, Shrek makes an impulsive deal with Rumpelstiltskin, and winds up stuck in
a world in which he was never born, and therefore never married Fionna, met his friends, or
had his children. After learning the value of what he lost,
Shrek is able to nullify his contract with Rumpel by sucking face with underground - ogre
- resistance - leader Fionna, and return to his family. All of which sounds just fine and dandy, until
you look at the fine print. “His fine print is crafty.” Listen to the last thing Fionna says to Shrek
before he makes his deal: "You have three beautiful children. A wife who loves you. Friends who adore you. You have everything.” Now, membership in a nuclear family and the
support of a good network may be great things to have—but the Fionna who gorged on Weed
Rat Rotisserie Style, challenged her husband to a fart contest in a mud bath, and chose
to remain an ogre, rather than change the person she loved would not say that these
conventional markers of success and happiness are “everything.” The film puts Shrek in a position similar
to that of the villains at the end of Shrek the Third. Above and beyond attending to the responsibilities
of fatherhood, he is being asked to abandon key parts of an identity that brings him joy
and a sense of purpose. Although people inevitably, and rightfully,
sacrifice a lot for their families, it’s romanticized in a way reminiscent of Duloc. He is expected to insert himself into an accepted
cultural narrative of the “perfect” life is — in other words, to buy completely into
the story manufactured in Far, Far Away: a fairy tale that the series spent two remarkable
movies trying to dismantle. Shrek Forever After is Dumb—and no amount
of bestiarii-Gingy can make it Deep. So it looks like we have a tie. While there’s no getting around the fact
that the series lost a lot of its depth as time went on, the later films still offer
their fair share of weird, clever jokes, not all of them grounded in pop-culture references: “It's time to pay the piper. Griselda seriously, it's time to pay the piper! Now go get my check book! Go, move, get out! And the films’ best work is often more complex
than the series as a whole gets credit for. "Well maybe you're right princess!" What do you think, Wisecrack? Are these films deeper or dumber than we’ve
determined here today? Did you spot something we missed? Is “Shrek in the Swamp Karaoke Dance Party”
canon, and could Lord Farquaad still be alive inside Dragon’s cavernous stomach? Let us know your thoughts in the comments
below. Don't forget to hit that subscribe button.
I unironically think the All-Star needle drop when the outhouse door opens is one of the best needle drops ever. It just sets the whole tone for the movie immediately. And it's so good for those credits.
I like that anything getting more than 3 minutes discussion on the show becomes part of this subs open discussion, and Shrek now being permanently on-topic is so funny to me
Relevant given the discussion about Shrek, if anything, as this video argues the first two Shreks are at least thematically consistent and despite the pop culture references and the potty humour, which in my view is also thematic, I think the first two movies do hold up as parodies.
I think if Shrek had stopped at the first two it would have a better reputation and for sure I'll show the first two to my kids once they see enough Disney movies to understand the parody.