As of the time of writing this, Walt Disney Animation Studios’ 55th feature, Zootopia, has reached the $970 million mark at the global box office, and has a good chance at hitting $1 billion globally, based on its leggy performance in the slow-burn Japanese market, and the fact it’s still lingering in the US top ten, two and a half months into its $330 million+ domestic run. [UPDATE: As of June 5th 2016, the $1 billion goal has been reached. Congrats, Zootopia!] Passing the $1 billion milestone will put it among the top 25 highest-grossing movies of all time, as well as making it the fourth-biggest animated film ever and the third highest-grossing film not to be based on any pre-existing material (or second, if you count Titanic as being “based on pre-existing material”). Combined with its 98% score on Rotten Tomatoes, it’s fair to say Byron Howard and Rich Moore’s talking animal movie has gone down pretty bloody well.



One of the nicest things about the overwhelming success of Zootopia is that it didn’t feel particularly pre-ordained. Of the three films that are likely to remain above it in the ranking of top animated movies, both Minions from Illumination and Toy Story 3 from Pixar were clearly blockbusters by design, positioned and merchandised to hoover up dollars and goodwill that would inevitably be there; global champ Frozen, meanwhile, despite being a lightning-in-a-bottle freak phenomenon, can also be said to have benefited from some canny Christmas scheduling by Disney to align with its icy theme and the out-of-school availability of its young core audience. Zootopia, by contrast, was positioned as more of a schedule-filler, slotted into an early March family-movie gap between DreamWorks’ Kung Fu Panda 3 in February and Disney’s own remake of The Jungle Book in mid-April. It seemed designed to get in there, hoover up around $200 million in the US/$600 million worldwide - as has been standard for non-Frozen Disney movies in recent years - and be out of cinemas by the time summer blockbuster season got started in May. The fact that Zootopia’s home media debut is coming on June 7th - a mere three months after its cinema release - suggests that Disney had no idea they had a high-stamina $1 billion breakout on its hands; it’s tempting to wonder whether it could’ve climbed even higher if the studio hadn’t aggressively scheduled Jungle Book and Captain America: Civil War in such close proximity afterwards, evidently on the assumption that Zootopia would be done long before then.

Having lowballed the film’s potential in the lead-up to its release, the onus now falls on Disney to make sure it learns the right lessons from Zootopia, and give the film the legacy it deserves. Because make no mistake: this noir-tinged anthropomorphic police procedural isn’t just one of the finest Disney movies of the last 25 years, it also has the potential to be one of the most important, in terms of the teachable moments it provides for the studio as a whole.

LESSON ONE: THE TIME FOR SELF-DOUBT IS OVER

Like any long-operating cultural institution, Walt Disney Animation Studios tends to go through creative peaks and troughs, with the quality of its work and the confidence of its identity fluctuating depending on the studio’s current level of audience appreciation, critical respect and industry influence. Anyone whose formative experiences with animation came during the late 90s and early 2000s will recognise that these years represented a period of intense internal crisis at what was then known as Walt Disney Feature Animation, with their identity compromised internally by years of poor decision-making, and under siege externally from a sudden influx of legitimate competitors, many of whom were making their names and defining the zeitgeist by directly rebutting “the Disney Way of Doing Things”.

Zootopia marks the point that we can officially call it, if we hadn’t already: the lean years are over, and Disney has every reason to operate with unfettered confidence and swagger once again. The monstrous success of Frozen since 2013 demonstrated that “the Disney Way of Doing Things” was never as outdated as its rivals tried to paint it, that it was possible to make a quintessentially “Disney” movie and have it be embraced by audiences to the tune of billion-dollar receipts; with Zootopia, the equation has now been balanced, showing it’s also possible for Disney to be experimental and produce a film that functions entirely unlike anything in their past body of work, and yield the same scale of success. Sure, we’ve had left-field entries like Wreck-It Ralph ($471 million) and Big Hero 6 ($658 million) that have delivered solid-to-good returns before this point, but this is the first time in a long while that Disney have turned a film that wasn’t a traditional musical epic into a world-conquering success.

The salient point here is that Disney have gotten themselves back to the point where their name carries value and meaning for audiences again, the artistic and commercial judgement of the studio’s current creative braintrust having now been demonstrated across a range of widely different films. With luck, the vindication of an unconventional success like Zootopia should lead to more confidence and less conservatism about future creative decisions: after all, if audiences no longer doubt Disney, it certainly has no reason to doubt itself.

LESSON TWO: DISNEY CAN TACKLE BROAD-RANGING STORIES WITH SOCIAL IMPLICATIONS BEYOND INDIVIDUAL SELF-EMPOWERMENT, AND THAT’S FINE

For better or worse, if there’s a single story type that Disney has been caricatured for being creatively obsessed with, it’s the self-empowerment fable. Indeed, Zootopia offers its own succinct skewering of the trope, with its pointed reference to “cartoon musicals where you sing a little song and all your insipid dreams magically come true” - made as a statement of its own defiance of that template.

If that seems like a surprisingly cutting bit of self-critique, it’s only because it’d be basically impossible for the studio not to be aware of its own reputation at this point. Going back to the 1940s, the overwhelming majority of Disney’s past work has been essentially small in scale, dedicated to the personal growth of one or two main protagonists, and their stories of wish fulfilment, individual accomplishment, coming of age or struggles for self-determination. These stories are told against backdrops of varying scales and complexity, but in almost all cases the worlds of Disney - whether they be small towns, idyllic forests, fairytale castles or sprawling kingdoms - usually exist and are designed entirely for the purpose of informing the central journeys of its heroes. Few Disney movies have shown much interest in the functioning of the broader social structure in which their characters live, and rarely offer any evidence of authentic three-dimensional life existing beyond the margins of the frame.

This isn’t a criticism in and of itself, but the emergence of sophisticated rivals in the US animation field post-2000 has clearly forced Disney to add more strings to its bow, and Zootopia represents the culmination of a gradual, deliberate evolution. Recent movies - particularly Wreck-It Ralph and Big Hero 6 - have ostentatiously paid closer attention to world-building than their forerunners, creating texture and incidental social dynamics within their settings that exist beyond the internal lives of the main characters; Zootopia, though, undoubtedly marks the apotheosis of this concept, going to great lengths to etch out a fully-formed imaginative alt-reality that is just as much of a presence and a character in the movie as any of the speaking cast. The setting offers a fully coherent social structure, rich thematic depth, a real feeling of history and an overwhelming sense that the story we’re presented by the movie is just one of many that take place within the city limits on any given day.

What’s more, Zootopia goes a step further than any of its predecessors by telling a story with a society-wide scale, weaving the interpersonal trials and tribulations of its core cast into the social fabric of its world, exploring the relationship between individual actions or attitudes and the wider development of the community in a socially conscious and politically intelligent manner. The fate of Aladdin’s Agrabah or The Lion King’s Pride Lands only ever felt important to the extent that they impacted the personal journeys of Aladdin and Simba; in Zootopia, the eponymous city is a place and a culture that palpably exists above and beyond the actions of Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde, and their journeys of self-actualisation happen within and comment upon a social context that’s developed independently of who they are. In that respect, it’s the closest Disney have come to making a socially-conscious alt-universe science fiction movie, which isn’t something anyone expected when they released that initial trailer of sloths working in a DMV.

The most exciting part of this development is the sense of gathering momentum and purpose behind it. This doesn’t feel it’s arisen as an accidental quirk in the creation of one particular film; rather, it feels like the creative instincts of the current generation of Disney storytellers are guiding the evolution and expansion of the house style, and, bit by bit, are helping to bring new flexibility to one of the most ossified components of the traditional Disney formula. Whether you’re a traditionalist or not, the diversification of the company’s output can only be a good thing, and it’s heartening to think that Zootopia might the tip of the iceberg in terms of broader, more ambitious Disney stories to come.

LESSON THREE: DISNEY CAN TOTALLY HANDLE CHALLENGING, POLITICISED MATERIAL WITHOUT PUSHBACK FROM CORE AUDIENCES

As the previous lesson demonstrates, a huge amount of how we perceive Disney as a cultural entity is defined by certain nuggets of entrenched wisdom that may or may not actually be true. Another of these received ideas is the long-held belief that Disney, as the monolithic embodiment of white-bread, corporatised establishment culture, is duty-bound to play it safe and avoid rocking the boat in terms of the range of topics and themes they tackle in their work. Zootopia, bluntly, demonstrates this idea to be a load of bollocks.

It’s easy to see why it’s been accepted for so long, though. Disney aren’t just a huge business, they’re also a cultural entity that draws much of their power and influence from the universal mainstream appeal of their work, and tackling divisive topics might seem anathema to that goal. Whether due to fears of alienating a core audience of children, inciting the wrath of conservative Middle America or triggering unpredictable political reactions in a diverse global market, many Disney commentators - and, indeed, probably many within Disney itself - have accepted that the company cannot be seen to be tackling or taking sides on sophisticated, complex or potentially controversial topics; in its desire to remain centrist and all-encompassing, it forfeits the ability and the legitimacy to play the role of agitator or ask probing questions.

To be honest, the majority of the Disney canon gives fuel to this idea. As discussed, very few of its films feature any commentary on cultural trends, particularly not contemporary ones; though the settings of each film differ wildly from each other, most take place in a hugely stylised, mythologised and hermetically-sealed fantasy version of their chosen locale. Even the likes of Oliver & Company - one of very few Disney films to be set in a recognisably modern (for the time) world - barely even nods to social realism, creating a storybook depiction of 1980s New York that exists largely as a manifestation of the personal journeys therein, with very few intentional social implications.

Zootopia is a complete reversal of this principle. Its world is an overt, direct reflection of modern America, with all of its complex social issues and politically challenging dynamics remaining in tact, and the film is just as dedicated to exploring and commenting on those deeper sociopolitical ideas as it is with the individual development of its characters. What’s more, the specific ideas it addresses read like an A-Z of the exact sort of hot-button issues that conventional wisdom suggests Disney would be keenest to avoid. Timely and contemporary meditations on sexism, racism, systemic privilege and inequality, abuses of power, the toxic politics of fear, stereotyping and profiling all come under Zootopia’s purview, and yet it never comes across as a polemic; not only is the treatment of these topics organic and accessible enough to remain suitable within the context of a family adventure, but the use of a non-specific animal metaphor proves to be a stroke of genius. It allows the filmmakers to examine the underlying sentiments and universal human instincts that fuel these concepts in a frank and uncompromised manner, yet with enough abstraction to sidestep the potential political blowback of drawing more direct real-world parallels.

Zootopia’s success in managing this difficult balancing act is exemplified by the notable lack of a substantial political pushback against the movie from any mainstream source, despite the high-profile nature of the movie - and despite the disproportionately larger backlash against Frozen, the revisionist politics of which were much less overt. Moreover, it appears to have been embraced equally across the world, even in those countries - such as China and Russia - deemed to be most sensitive and censor-happy about potentially incendiary messages in family entertainment. Given how quickly most adult-oriented cultural conversations about racism and the police devolve into bitter mudslinging, the fact that a Disney movie about a bunny cop was able to achieve this seems even more impressive.

Between Zootopia and Pixar’s 2015 masterpiece Inside Out (also developed under the oversight of executive producer John Lasseter’s creative committee system), it has been demonstrated that Disney-branded animation is more than capable of providing the skill and intelligence needed to turn complex, divisive subjects - such as societal racism and mental health - into accessible, universal stories that can register with audiences of all ages, without fear of controversy or alienation. Now that’s been established, we should hope they treat it as a matter of responsibility to do so more regularly. After all, Disney has had enough criticism over the years for the supposedly malign influence of its cultural dominance; now they’ve shown they can use that same power for social enrichment and enlightenment, they owe it to everyone to do it.

LESSON FOUR: THE COMPANY-WIDE DEDICATION TO THE PRINCIPLE OF “CHARACTER FIRST” IS WORKING

This lesson is one that extends beyond the output of the main Walt Disney Animation Studios team, and cuts to the heart of why the entire Walt Disney studio system - including all of its various divisions - appears to be enjoying such an unusually high batting average at the moment. As such, it could be the most important and wide-reaching of any of the points so far.

Disney has always understood the value of character IPs, and the idea of selling a franchise around recognisable and likeable anchoring personalities, but they’ve arguably never been as successful at actually executing it as they currently are. Disney-owned properties are ruling the world at the moment, from Marvel Studios and their sprawling Cinematic Universe through to the rebooted and revitalised Star Wars series, overseen by Lucasfilm. The films these various Disney subsidiaries are making are very different in nature from Zootopia and from each other, but all of them are adopting the same strategy of prioritising relatable, lovable characters at the very heart of the creative development process.

The MCU is going as strong as ever after 13 films in large part because all of its various characters have been sketched so personably that audiences are always delighted to see them - even if the film is subpar, or if they’re really not doing anything that exciting. It’s the reason viewers are still keen to see more Thor movies despite neither of the character’s previous solo outings setting the world alight, or why most people’s favourite scene in Avengers: Age of Ultron was the one where Earth’s Mightiest Heroes get boozed up at a house party. Meanwhile, the greatest success of last year’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens was not its fairly conservative storyline, but its introduction of a rich and diverse cast of fascinating new characters, whose personalities have been imprinted on fans so quickly that they’re now just as invested in Rey, Finn and Poe as they are in legends of cinema such as Han Solo and Luke Skywalker.

Naturally, this same principle is just as evident at the flagship Walt Disney Animation Studios, which has been trading heavily off the Pixar-tested-and-approved formula of mismatched buddy chemistry since John Lasseter took the creative reins of the studio in 2007. Over time, they have gotten better and better at it, creating huge amounts of pathos from the sparring, self-discovery and bonding of duos such as Bolt and Mittens, Tiana and Naveen, Rapunzel and Flynn, Ralph and Vanellope, Anna and Kristoff, and Hiro and Baymax. Judy and Nick are the latest iteration of a formula for creating winning, likeable character chemistry that the studio has been quietly perfecting for nearly a decade, and the embrace of the fox/bunny duo - as well as the wider success of Disney-owned properties on the whole - shows that this personality-first principle is working as well as it’s ever been. The lesson here, therefore, is not only for Disney to stay the course, but for other creators to learn what they can from this working model, whether they be rival studios or aspiring artists wanting to create a Nick and Judy of their own.

LESSON FIVE: MORE ZOOTOPIA NOW PLEASE

Each of the preceding lessons represents a potentially profound and substantial milestone in Walt Disney Animation Studios’ evolution as a relevant, contemporary and vital creative voice in global culture. Taken together, they point inexorably in one direction: make more goddamn Zootopia, you goddamn assholes.

Now that the audience has proven its receptiveness to the concept - to the tune of $1 billion - Disney has been handed a better and more natural jumping-off point for a wider storytelling universe than almost any previous film it has created. From a commercial standpoint, this is a key benefit of the wider scope that films like Zootopia offer; whereas the intimate focus of the traditional Disney story means they often act as closed loops, with single-use settings and character arcs, the Zootopia model presents future filmmakers with a living, breathing world, rich not only in detail and story potential, but also in thematic depth. Zootopia sequels and spinoffs wouldn’t need to be reverse-engineered or awkwardly extrapolated from a scenario that was only ever intended to support a single narrative concept; instead, they can draw upon a setting with enough complexity and moving parts to act as a functional model of the entire breadth of modern society, a fascinating and colourful petri dish in which all manner of new narrative opportunities can be developed.

The benefits of doing so would go beyond commercial concerns, though, and it’s easy to imagine that Disney’s creative talent will be drawn back to the Zootopia well for artistic reasons in the years to come. A sense of creative imperative is a valuable thing in franchise-based filmmaking, and it’s one that Disney have typically lacked when it comes to sequels; the standard model of personal journeys with happily-ever-after endings are often cheapened by continuation, but Zootopia’s society-wide discussions of prejudice, changing attitudes and the slow evolution of a progressive community have the potential to be enriched and deepened, taken in new directions and examined from perspectives that the current film can only allude to. It helps, too, that Judy and Nick are not presented as characters whose journeys as individuals have “ended” in any sense at the climax of the film, and whose relationship with each other is rendered with enough genuine chemistry and organic imperfection that there remains significant room for future growth, development and evolution.*

Disney’s unique relationship with sequels represents the main barrier to the further development of a wider Zootopia universe; cinematic follow-ups are an incredible rarity within the Disney canon, while the much-loathed policy of direct-to-video cheapquels churned out by B-teams was wisely killed by John Lasseter around a decade ago. Nevertheless, the studio has shown in recent years that its ideas on the matter are evolving, with Tangled, Big Hero 6 and The Lion King all receiving new TV series spin-offs, while the unprecedented box office success of Frozen has led to the greenlighting of an equally unprecedented cinematic sequel. Both approaches could potentially serve Zootopia more naturally than any of the aforementioned films, but it remains to be seen whether hitting the $1 billion mark - higher than any Disney film other than Frozen - will be enough to convince the studio to explore its brave new world further. What seems clear, though, is that in Zootopia, Disney is sitting on a potential commercial and creative goldmine, and they’re not typically a company that contents itself with just sitting on something like that for very long. In another set of circumstances that’d be a cause for lament, but in Zootopia’s, there’ll likely be quite a lot of people queueing up with pickaxes to help them start digging.

* - And hey, if you want to be all shippy about that “evolution”, then fine, have at it. A Nick/Judy romance could work organically in the story; the chemistry of the characters would translate fairly naturally; and it would give Disney a rare opportunity to explore the evolution of a personal relationship through the prism of Zootopia’s socially aware and recognisably contemporary viewpoint, rather than the typical 100-minute dash from meet cute to fairytale wedding, which for too long has been the only version of “love” Disney have seemed interested in depicting. Plus, hooking them up would naturally lead into a thematic conversation about interracial relationships and the impact social stigmatisation can have on personal lives and emotions, which would be an entirely natural direction to take the story in. There you go, Disney, have that idea for free! You’re welcome.