The Aristocats: if ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ still exist, at least in cartoons

Once upon a time, there were three little kittens named Matisse, Bizet and Menù, the offspring of a beautiful and elegant cat named Duchess. They all lived together in a large and opulent Parisian villa, with the now elderly lady of the house. The lady, given her advanced age, one day decided to make a will and, as she had no heirs, discussed with her lawyer the possibility of leaving everything to her cats.

The news was not taken kindly by the butler, who believed he was the only possible recipient of the inheritance. In anger, disappointment and lust for the money, he then devised a plan to get rid of the kittens. He put them to sleep with sleeping pills and went out at night, taking the kittens with him, to leave them by the side of a road, far from home. This is the story of The Aristocats, a 1970 Disney classic directed by Wolfgang Reitherman.

Anyone who has seen this cartoon may wonder with me: what would have become of those little kittens if the rambunctious, spunky – and somewhat reckless – Romeo had not intervened. Romeo is a stray cat, living hand-to-mouth, but he is used to getting by on the road, coping with the dangers that life constantly presents him with.

It is he who will determine the success of Duchess and her children’s return journey. Moreover, Duchess and Romeo will fall in love on the journey and return home together: she will finally have a husband and her children a father (whom, as they themselves repeatedly say, they missed). What emerges clearly and distinctly in this cartoon is that Duchess and Romeo, within the new family they are to form, have complementary and distinct roles.

She is sweet, welcoming and loving: she seems to have been born to care, to lick wounds, to console and comfort. He is bold and stubborn; willing to sacrifice his life to save the little ones and his woman: he seems to have been born to guide and protect the family from danger.

She is good with words; attentive to social relations and the sensitivity of others, he is rougher, little inclined to solve problems by talking, but very ‘concrete’ and direct when needed. She seems to be a safe harbour for the puppies, ready to smother them with a hug when needed; he is rather a thunderbolt that launches them towards the outside world, helping them not to be afraid to get involved. In two words, which unfortunately risk falling into disuse, she is mother, he is father. One wonders, watching this amusing cartoon, why on earth we want to annihilate or ignore the differences between man and woman, between father and mother, at all costs, when reality still speaks loud and clear.

One certainly does not want to take The Aristocats as a moral authority to argue that there is a family; one just wants to say that if even an outdated cartoon about cats manages to show the beauty and naturalness of the collaboration between men and women in the generation and care of offspring, perhaps, two questions, or a few more, about what is happening to the family these days, should be asked.