What 'Zootopia' has to say about the police, race relations, and diversity
I went into a screening of Zootopia expecting to see a relatively short movie about anthropomorphized animals trying to live out their dreams in a big city. Five minutes into the film, and after a few laughs, though, it became clear that beneath its clever puns Zootopia‘s actually a sharp-witted commentary on modern race relations.
At this point, you’ve probably seen that one scene from Disney’s Zootopia with the sloths working in the DMV. While the scene’s plenty funny, thankfully, it’s not actually how the movie begins.
Zootopia opens with a young Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) acting out the history of animal kind during an elementary school performance. Before thousands of years of evolution civilized the world’s animals, Judy explains, the jungle was a place defined by “fear, treachery, and bloodlust” where prey animals lived in a constant state of primal fear of predators who hunted them.
Now, though, Bunnies and other prey live in a world where they don’t have to fear Tigers. They live alongside them trying to eke out a living in the sprawling, vaguely New York-esque metropolis of Zootopia where animals from all walks of life spend their time chasing their dreams and getting stuck in traffic. There are still elements of social—and biological—stratification but generally speaking, everyone’s more or less on equal footing.
On one level, Zootopia‘s a slick, animated movie about plucky rabbit cop trying to solve the mystery behind a string of strange disappearances. On another, though, it’s a complicated conversation about the ways that prejudice, political power, and class shape the how people relate to one another.
Though Judy comes from a sizable family of country carrot farmers, she moves to the city to become a police officer, a profession traditionally dominated by larger predator animals. While her family begrudgingly accepts that she wants to be a cop, they make a point of warning her about the dangers of the big city—specifically biological predisposition that that foxes and other predators have towards violence.
Judy points out that she knows plenty of bunnies who are jerks, but her parents insist that she take a number of forms of fox repellent styled after pepper spray.
While it’d be easy for Zootopia to lean on the predator vs. prey binary as its sole form of social commentary, the film actually highlights the complicated the relationships between nearly all of its animals. In the same breath that Judy’s father warns her about killer wolves, he makes an off-handed comment about a weasel friend who cheats at cribbage. Nick Wilde, a fox played by Jason Bateman, is stereotyped as a con man in a scene where Judy assumes that he’s up to no good in an ice cream shop.
It turns out that she’s right about Nick, but his penchant for crime springs from a childhood trauma involving a gang of larger prey animals that he wanted to be friends with. Throughout the film, there’s an undercurrent of fear of predators, but writers Jared Bush and Phil Johnston consistently show how speciesism isn’t a one-way street.