More Thoughts on Prejudice in Zootopia

Last time I talked about Zootopia, I looked at the nuts and bolts of how prejudice works within the film, the overall setup of prey vs. predators and the size-based social strata at work.  The big picture’s been taken care of, so now, let’s get down to some of the specifics (contains spoilers.)

It’s easy for Zootopia to think it’s doing well.  Look at their predator mayor!  The police department just hired their first bunny – so progressive!  And on the surface, everyone seems to get along; Judy thinks moving to the city will get her away from small-minded ideas about both prey and predators.  But the cracks are there.  Clawhauser, the only animal at ZPD who doesn’t resent Judy for daring to think she can be an officer, patronizes her (turns out, only bunnies can call one another “cute.”)  Store owners exercise their right to refuse service when they don’t like a customer’s teeth, and how could a fox cub ever think prey would play beside him without fear? 

And just as in life, prejudice sneaks up on the characters.  Judy thinks of herself as enlightened; she groans at her parents’ belief that all foxes are dangerous, but in her time with Nick, her hand reaches more than once for the Fox Repellent Spray her dad foisted on her when she left for the city.  It’s more than an unconscious fear response.  It goes deeper than Judy realizes (I reeled when she complimented Nick for being “articulate.”)  I really like that not just “bad” characters are susceptible to bias.  Judy is a delightful, lovable character, but she’s also been shaped by broken ideas in her society, and she’s unaware of how much they affect her.  In this way, the film is a story about bigotry rather than bigots, which is a vital distinction.  Words like “racist” and “sexist” put people on the defensive, and that “Nuh uh, not me!” reaction closes them off to constructive dialogue.  It’s important that Judy is a well-intentioned bunny with unconscious issues, and that during the movie, she learns to take a harder look at herself and work on them.

Prejudice can be directed internally as well.  Judy initially sets out to tout her belief in Nick and her insistence that his being a fox doesn’t make him a bad animal, but when she realizes that he’s a grifter who conned her, she thinks he’s just like everything she’s ever been told about foxes.  But that’s intentional; years of being dismissed as untrustworthy and feared as dangerous have left their toll on Nick, and after a traumatic experience with bigotry in his youth, he didn’t see the point in trying to convince animals of what they refuse to believe.  And so, he gives himself over to their ideas of him, being the good-for-nothing con-fox because no one expects anything better.

With all this simmering tension, it’s no wonder the city erupts into fear and profiling when the news comes out that the missing predators have in fact “gone savage,” regressing to their pre-evolved ways.  Judy doesn’t mean to start the maelstrom, but as prey, she doesn’t think how it will sound when she explains to the press that every one of the “savage” mammals is a predator (shades of “I’m not saying all Muslims are terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslims!”)  That’s when things get really chilling.  The words “biology” and “DNA” get thrown around, suggesting that predators are innately, uniquely susceptible to this regression, that it’s in their nature.  Then it all explodes:  increased arrests, loss of employment, protests, xenophobic jeers, prey edging away from predators on the subway, hate, ad infinitum.  It resonates strongly, the way a community crawls toward progress/unity, and then the actions of a few individuals turn the tide in an instant.  Everything that’s built up gets swept away, and everyone is reduced to their smallest definitions.  Much respect to Zootopia for not shying away from this complex dynamic.