My rating: ★☆☆☆☆
What did I just read? Seriously, what.
Aurora is getting married, so her three pushy, stubborn fairy “helpers” take charge of the preparations after getting the consent of the King and Queen. They don’t ask what Aurora would want, because that would be silly. Don’t be silly.
So they write a massive list of things they’ll need to prepare for the big day, and they go through it one item at a time. True to the movie, they argue about each and every thing. The invitations, the bouquet, the cake, the music. They infuriate everyone they work with and get nothing done.
On the wedding day, they’ve achieved nothing. And they feel terrible–they’ve ruined Aurora’s wedding. But fear not! These fairies have magic in their corner, and magic solves everything. With the help of their trusty magic wands, they mail out the perfect invitations. They conjure the perfect cake. They tailor the perfect dress.
Or maybe magic isn’t the perfect solution they thought it would be. The cake grows out of control, as does the dress’s train. Aurora is startled to see the damage her friends have done, and they despair once more. They’ll just have to postpone the wedding.
But maybe not! They still have magic, don’t they? It’s perfect–they put everyone in the kingdom to sleep for three days, then host the wedding after three days of good, hard work towards the preparations.
The Happily Ever After End
Except, uh, no. Your children’s story just preached the moral that magic solves everything. Yeah, yeah, I know you were going for the opposite there, Disney, but you fell way short. If hard work is better than magic, but I have to use magic to make time for the hard work… well, you see how a child would find that a tad befuddling, yes?
And let’s not even talk about what massive assholes the fairies really are. Do they consult Aurora about what she wants her wedding to be like? Of course not. They raised her, so obviously they know what’s best. Do they have any qualms about knocking out an entire kingdom for three days? ‘Course not. What do they care if the stupid peasants suddenly lose three days of their life, dropping unconscious in the middle of whatever they were doing when the spell was cast? Why should they care if someone’s killed by a wild animal? Drowns in the bath? Falls off a ladder? Starves or dehydrates to death, perhaps, if the spell doesn’t stave off famine and thirst?
These fairies simply do not care about anyone but themselves, and it is positively disturbing.