“Beauty and the Beast” is doing huge numbers at the box office. Its first weekend in theaters proved — yet again — that women can more than hold their own at the box office. The elements of this new film’s plot are all essentially the same as they were in the 1991 animated version. Belle (Emma Watson) is brainy and fiercely independent. The Beast (Dan Stevens) has a temper that masks kindness. Gaston (Luke Evans) is big, brawny, and hyper-masculine.
Of all of the elements of “Beauty and the Beast,” Gaston should feel the most dated. At the time of the 1991 film, the character was an obvious comment on the nature of male heroism inside of the Disney canon. He was a war hero with enormous muscles who had his sights set on our heroine. But he was also a self-absorbed and entitled jerk. In 1955, Belle might have ended up with Gaston after he saved her from the Beast. Of course, things don’t play out quite that way.
Today, more than 25 years after the animated film’s release, it would be nice to think that the Gastons of the world have largely vanished. It would be reassuring to think that men no longer see women as game to be hunted, or that they would appreciate knowing a woman as intelligent and independent as Belle. Unfortunately, that’s not where we are. In fact, considering the man in the White House and the comments he’s made about women, Gaston is feeling more relevant than he was even 25 years ago.
Like many men in 2017, Gaston seems to feel as though Belle’s assertion of her independence comes at the expense of his. Belle is capable of deciding for herself who she loves, which, for Gaston, means that he has lost the ability to decide for her — a threat to the foundation of his patriarchal identity.
If this sentiment feels familiar, that’s because it is. This idea, that equality comes at the expense of those who are currently at an advantage (i.e. white men), is one that’s been playing out in recent years through everything from the backlash to the Black Lives Matter movement to the election of Donald Trump. In “Beauty and the Beast” Gaston comes to represent this kind of white male backlash. He’s a hugely masculine presence who’s constantly worried that someone will puncture his enormous confidence in himself. Belle’s constant rejection does damage to Gaston’s pride. Fortunately, the film is aware of just how sensitive this big, brawny man really is, as “Gaston,” a song that’s essentially a four minute ego stroke, suggests.
Belle’s overtly feminist streak, and the lengths that Emma Watson went to to ensure that her heroine was as progressive as possible, only heighten the fears of Gaston, and other men like him. This kind of toxic masculinity is prevalent because, to those who have long held advantages, equality feels like discrimination. Of course, this kind of feeling is only possible when people lose all empathy for those in a different position than themselves.
Gaston’s modern relevance extends past his wounded manliness, though, because of the actions he takes after Belle spurns him. In a rage, he rouses a crowd of rural townsfolk to his side, and moves to storm a castle filled with transformed humans who Gaston sees as his enemy. These characters are different, and these differences both terrify Gaston and enrage him. He plays on the fears of the townsfolk, some of whom quickly become allies of the Beast’s crew after they realize what they’re doing.
Gaston, in 2017, is a distinctly Trumpian figure. His ability to whip up a xenophobic sentiment is actually caused by his inability to believe that Belle could have affection for the Beast. His wound sends him into a rage, and it’s this rage that leads him to lash out against a group that he fears because of their differences from him. It’s impossible not to link Gaston’s toxic masculinity to his xenophobia. They’re inextricable, and intentionally so.
Fortunately, in the world of “Beauty and the Beast,” Gaston’s refusal to accept Belle’s rejection is also his undoing. It’s his inability to accept an outcome in which he is not the hero, the main character, or the one whose ego will ultimately be stroked that bring him to the Beast’s castle, and it’s these same qualities that send him to his death.
While it may be foolhardy to hope that our own real life exemplars of toxic masculinity suffer a similar fate, “Beauty and the Beast” has other lessons to teach its audience, and they largely come through Belle. She’s a figure of resistance — one who insists on her own autonomy even in the face of a figure who wants desperately to strip it away from her. She says no to him, and when he doesn’t listen, she doesn’t simply give up. Belle is a feminist, even more so in the modern version than she was in 1991, and it’s that quality, coupled with Gaston’s own wounded pride, that ultimately topples him.
