"The Prince of Egypt": A Non-Religious Fan's Love

Warning: I am not a religious person at all (I consider myself non-denominated or agnostic at best), but I am a very, very, very big fan of The Prince of Egypt.

Disclaimer: Because I am not a very religious person, and therefore not religiously well-educated, please do not hesitate to inform me if I’m offensive, ignorant, etc. in this blog post.

Onward! :D

Now, as usual, a little background first. The Prince of Egypt was, in my opinion, one of Dreamworks’ greatest masterpieces. In essence, the movie is a kids-friendly rendition of The Book of Exodus*; the film’s chronology goes all the way from Moses being saved by his mother via the Nile River to the Hebrews’ journey to the Promised Land. It premièred in theatres on December 18, 1998 and includes voice actors Val Kilmer (Moses), Ralph Fiennes (Rameses), and Michelle Pfeiffer (Tzipporah). Of course, since it’s a musical, you have singing-voice actors as well: Ofra Haza (Yocheved), and Sally Dworsky (singing voice for Miriam), among others. It’s considered one of the most expensive animated films, with a budget of over $70 million. As far as box office success goes, worldwide, it grossed over $218 million. (1)

*ahem* Well…that’s enough bragging and used-car advertising from me.

I suppose that, for starters, one thing that some people (or quite a few) intensely dislike about the film is that it’s edited quite a bit from the original Bible’s story. For example, in the Bible, Moses actively kills an Egyptian guard and hides the body; in the movie, Moses accidentally pushes the guard over a platform and runs far, far away. In the Bible, Moses is adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter; in the movie, Moses is adopted by Pharaoh’s wife.

Now, when I first watched The Prince of Egypt, I didn’t quite understand what I liked so much about it anymore than I could understand the true, underlying story. Heck, I don’t even think I knew that it was a religious adaption. Oh, I liked the colors. I liked the animation. I liked Moses and his constant jocularity. I liked Tzipporah and her fierce, protective nature. I liked Jethro’s teddy bear-esque cuddliness. And dammit, I even liked Hotep and Huy’s sleazy dynamics.

And that’s the beautiful thing about getting older and, with that age, a little wiser: you can go back, look at something that you already saw when you were younger and just understand in a way that you didn’t-couldn’t-before. To me, it’s an incredible experience because you see the exact same thing but in a completely different way.

So it was upon going back to watch The Prince of Egypt that I realized what I liked about it: the humanity.

I like the humanity in each and every single second of this movie. I like how it saturates every line, every dialogue, every scene, and every song. And it is that bold, blatant humanity that, in my opinion, has allowed so many who are not of the Jewish/Hebrew faith to enjoy this movie for what it is.

Most obviously, there is humanity to be found in the Hebrews and their plight. And this is, in essence, the main way the movie works: the audience isn’t really going to care about whether or not the Hebrews get to their Promised Land if their suffering isn’t highlighted every chance there is. Therefore, it is in the opening scene that we immediately see the plight and suffering of the Hebrews. We see the scars on their backs from the whips. We see that huge, hot sun and that huge, hot desert with not an oasis on sight.* We hear the Egyptian overseers’ verbal abuse (Faster!) coupled with the physical abuse (their whips). We hear the creaking and groaning of the ropes as the Hebrews struggle to be human pulleys for statues, monuments, etc. that are several thousand pounds heavier than they are.

These are not scenes of loving, devoted slaves happily working under loving, patient masters; the creators of this movie aren’t pulling a Stepford. These are scenes of human beings being victimized and objectified by another group of human beings. And, realistically, they aren’t happy with their subservient role in the least. The entire portrait of human suffering is stylistically completed by the music:

[Egyptian Guards]
Mud...Sand...Water...Straw...Faster!
Mud...And lift...Sand...And Pull
Water...And raise up...Straw...Faster!

[Slaves]
With the sting of the whip on my shoulder
With the salt of my sweat on my brow
Elohim, God on high
Can you hear your people cry
Help us now
This dark hour...

Deliver us
Hear our call
Deliver us
Lord of all
Remember us, here in this burning sand
Deliver us
There's a land you promised us
Deliver us to the promised land... (2)

With that sensory combination, we can almost begin to feel the Hebrews’ struggle. As an audience, we can almost feel the blazing hot sun and the sting of the whip and the berating of the overseers and the squelch of the mud and sand.

And, a few minutes later, the scene shifts to the Hebrews’ homes (the Land of Goshen, yes…?), which are symbolically desolate-looking against the huge, imposing backdrop of the Egyptian’s empire. Yocheved’s singing voice is the perfect sad, desperate accompaniment to the Egyptian sentries literally going from house to house to kill all of the newborn boys while their mothers all but watch helplessly. Now, I admit that I’ve always had certain…numbness when watching this part. Mainly it’s because I could never comprehend grown men finding it in themselves to kill babies anymore than I could comprehend how the mothers-and fathers, for that matter-survived such trauma.

But then, that’s the question, isn’t it? More so than the intense struggling of the men working in the fields…you see the heartbreaking and impossible dilemma of the Hebrew women as well. What would they do? Which is better? Insist and fight for their children’s lives as much as they can? Well, they could certainly do that…and they have seen-and lived-first hand what happens to a living Hebrew. Should their children have lived, they could have watched them toil and sweat under a hot, desert sun while they’re mercilessly beaten, berated, and I would sometimes imagine, worked to death. Or, the mothers could easily just stand by and allow their sons to die. In that way, they won’t suffer the fate of being a slave like the rest of the Hebrews. Rather, by the Israelite belief, they’ll go to Heaven where they’ll have such a hedonistic second life under God that their cute little faces will be sore from smiling so much. Still, they could always go the Yocheved route and literally place their son in a watertight basket, set him adrift in the Nile, and Just Hope For The Best:

[Yocheved]
Hush now, my baby
Be still, love, don't cry
Sleep as you're rocked by the stream
Sleep and remember my last lullaby
So I'll be with you when you dream

River, o river
Flow gently for me
Such precious cargo you bear
Do you know somewhere
he can live free?
River, deliver him there...

Now, assuming that the basket safely makes it past the crocodiles, swinging oars, and fishing nets (among other things), it’s highly likely that they would never see their son again, wherever he landed. By that extension, once he landed he’d be officially out of their hands and, well…whatever happens would happen. Should the mothers try to intervene, the child would be found out as a Hebrew and most likely meet the same fate as the other babies. And, most likely, the mothers would be killed themselves for Going Against Pharaoh’s Orders.

So, what would they do? Which one is best? Which one hurts the least? I personally can’t answer that question because I can’t even personally consider that question. So, consider this my first blogging cop-out.

And that’s why, as an audience, I believe that I sincerely don’t mind the religion when I think about it. By that extension, not once have I felt that the movie is trying to convert me. The reason being is simple: we quickly see that the Hebrews don’t have anything else. Much like with the black slaves in America several thousand years later, religion and the hope that comes with it are worth practically priceless. Because, otherwise, the Hebrews truly have no money (or at least, that they can use outside the land of Pharaoh’s reach), no titles, no power, and no voice. Collectively, they aren’t even given the gracious identity of ‘humans’ or even really ‘Hebrews’ by their owners; they are ‘slaves’ and nothing more.

After visiting with Pharaoh Rameses (in the movie, his adopted brother) and turning the Nile to blood, Moses seeks to calm and reassure his fellows. He couldn’t have said it better:

“Yes, Aaron, it's true. Pharaoh has the power. He can take away your food, your home, your freedom. He can take away your sons and daughters. With one word, Pharaoh can take away your very lives. But there is one thing he cannot take away from you: your faith. Believe, for we will see God's wonders.”

Faith is one of those intangible concepts that, because it can neither be really seen nor proved, many take for granted. Some even completely disregard it. But there’s something to be said-and said respectfully-about religion when it’s shown that that’s the predominant way an entire group of people psychologically and emotionally survive.* Or, at the very least, respect can be given upon The Prince of Egypt’s display of the strength and tenacity of the human spirit when it wants to survive. Hence the song “When You Believe”.

And now a word on the movie’s portrayal of the Egyptians…

One of the greatest-and, probably the most difficult-accomplishment of the filmmakers was to make sure that the Egyptians are humanized as well, in my opinion. From the onset, we would think that they’re monstrous psychopaths, wouldn’t we? They’ve taken their fellow human beings and all but turned them into disposable cattle for their pretty little empire. And you know what? As The Prince of Egypt is a kids’ movie, I’m assuming that they did a lot of outtakes in terms of what the Egyptians did to the Hebrews. I’m pretty sure that they whipped the working men to death just for the fun of it. I’m pretty sure that they raped the Hebrew women whenever they pleased. And I’m pretty sure that they tore into the Hebrew’s homes, demanded food, gave life-threatening warnings if it took a while to cook the food, ate the food, and left without so much as a belch as thank you.

That sounds like monstrous psychopaths in the making…

…But the movie never once takes that approach.

Rather, from the very beginning, we see that the Egyptians have a coping mechanism for justifying what they do. And it’s quite a simple, but powerful coping mechanism, indeed: wording. Repeatedly, we hear many of the Egyptian characters-from Pharaoh Seti (Moses and Rameses’ father) to Rameses himself-use the word ‘slave’. The word ‘slave’ is constantly used to overshadow the word ‘human’ and therefore justify the choice to build the great dynasty of Egypt on the labor and suffering of the Hebrews. Take, for example, this exchange when Moses first goes to Rameses to free his people:

Moses: “Do you still not understand what Seti was?”

Rameses: “He was a great leader.”

Moses: “His hands bore the blood of thousands of children.”

Rameses: “Hmph. Slaves.”

Moses: "My people."

Or, earlier on, when Moses finds out that his adopted father, Pharaoh Seti, was the one that ordered the slaughter of all those newborn Hebrews. Seti comes in to comfort Moses and justify his actions:

Seti: “The Hebrews grew too numerous. They might have risen against us.”

Moses: “Father, tell me you didn't do this.”

Seti: “Moses, sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices must be made.”

Moses: “Sacrifices?”

Seti: “Oh, my son. They were only slaves.”

And those scenes right there showcase the danger to be found in cognitive dissonance. Because it makes sense for the Egyptians-especially their pharaoh-to verbally and repeatedly erase the human status that the Hebrews hold. Because when you dehumanize an entire group of people, then it’s much, much easier deal with the fact that you’re actively victimizing them. You don’t have to think about the fact that those ‘slaves’ have thoughts and memories and fears and desires and hopes and dreams and opinions and ideas and flesh and blood and muscle and bone and brains and everything else that comes with being human. So it’s not ‘easier’ to eat your entire plate of food, go to sleep at night, and give genuine smiles; it’s easy, period. In a twisted way, as the Hebrews use their faith to survive, so the Egyptians use their word usage to survive. Or at least, to keep their Privilege Blinkers on to the highest setting so that they can remain blind.

Indeed, privilege can be very blinding. It doesn’t take much work to ignore the fact that the polished, stone steps that you’re sitting on and the huge, imposing pyramid that you’re admiring were built by human-err…slaves. Why care about that when you’re so nice and cozy and secure in the richness of your own life? Besides which, if you did try to advocate for the Hebrews’ freedom-or at least, try to advocate for them to have better working conditions-you would most likely be heartily laughed at, patted on the back and told to go and enjoy yourself at Pharaoh’s next banquet.

Then that brings us to the villain of the movie, per say: Pharaoh Rameses, adopted brother of Moses. I remember that when I was younger, I used to all but yell at the screen with how stubborn and cruel Rameses was. No matter what kind of havoc and destruction The Ten Plagues wreck on Egypt, the new pharaoh remains unmoved. So, at the time, I thought of Rameses as a Big Meanie Butthead that doesn’t care about his people anymore than he cares about the Hebrews.

Again, there’s that wonder of getting older; you see the same thing, but in a completely different way. Therefore I saw that Rameses, too, was painted as a human rather than a monstrous psychopath. He, too, is vulnerable like the Hebrews…maybe more so. From the beginning we see the seed planted for his tenacity; his father calls him the ‘weak link in the chain’ of pharaohs. It is this degrading moniker that seems to have resonated with Rameses strongly; if he lets the Hebrews go, then he destroys ‘centuries of tradition’ and there goes the great and mighty dynasty of Egypt. And all of that would have been under his name…just like his father predicted.

To add salt to the wound, his continued enslaving of the Hebrews isn’t just a matter of tradition; Egypt is literally built on the efforts of the Hebrews’ labor. This is proved when we compare the time when Moses is a young man and is living under Pharaoh Seti’s rule and when Moses is a bit older and comes back when Egypt is under Rameses’ rule. Now, under Seti Egypt is…classically beautiful. There are huge buildings, temples, monuments, pyramids, etc. And the Hebrews, as previously mentioned, work tirelessly and thanklessly to build and decorate his empire. Then we fast forward to the time of Rameses’ rule…and the Hebrews obviously have it worse. Much, much worse. There is a scene of a very, very young man being pulled up by his hair by an overseer right after he tripped over rocks. There are other scenes of (I’d like to think) grown men pushing at a wall while the camera does nothing to hide the numerous scars on their backs. Meanwhile, Moses and Tzipporah are allowed entrance into the Pharaoh’s throne room (I’m guessing that’s what it is) and immediately, we see that Egypt is bigger and better. The designs of the Egyptian Gods are more sophisticated, the halls are longer, the walls are bigger, and everything is just more advanced in Egypt.

From there, we see a direct correlation: the harder and longer the Hebrews have to work, the greater Egypt becomes. By that extension, the audience knows that if Rameses does let the Hebrews go…there goes, more or less, the entire foundation that Egypt is built on. Once again, we have an inverted way in which the Egyptians are very, very much like the Hebrews; they, too, are enslaved by their own system because they built that system on the laboring and suffering of other people.

Now, of course…we could say that the Egyptians could just train themselves to build their own empire. And I’m pretty sure that there are Egyptians that are farmers, carpenters, etc. But the thing is, I have a very, very strong feeling that what the Hebrews are forced to do day in and day out would require several kinds of specialized training. Even before that, Rameses would have the great burden of trying to get his people to willingly volunteer for such work. And then you have the fact that-if people do, in fact, volunteer-those people would most likely expect to be paid and paid well. Then you have to account for the fact that they’ll be working in near intolerable conditions what with the desert heat…so sufficient, protective gear may be in order. So, totaling up the wages and the protective gear, Rameses would have to allocate huge sums of money for those purposes alone. Those workers would need and expect lunch breaks, bathroom breaks, dinner breaks, and holidays, so there would be times where construction isn’t going to be completed in time just because Pharaoh Said So. The overseers would probably even have to shed their physical and verbal whips for tools to help work, since, without the several hundred-thousand (and easily disposable-and-replaceable) Hebrews, man-power would be incredibly decreased. Eventually, there would probably even be a divide between the Egyptians in terms of The Lucky Ones That Don’t Have To Labor vs. The Unlucky Ones That Got Caught In The Labor Trap; human beings often love to feel special and exalted that way.

And you get the point. Rameses heeding the call of “Let My People Go” reasonably signals to him “Uproot and Topple Egypt Immediately”. Add on to the fact that this is his brother that’s constantly giving him this decree, and you have a pharaoh that’s understandably clinging to everything and anything that’s familiar. And that goes from Rameses’ obstinacy to keep the Hebrews under his control to his sporadic, but heartfelt pleas to Moses for ‘things to be the way they were before’ between them.

Then that’s where the story hones in on the relationship between the two brothers, Rameses and Moses. Once again, the focus is on humanity; just because Rameses has a role as Egypt’s pharaoh and Moses has a role as the God’s Deliverer doesn’t mean they stop being brothers. On the contrary, they struggle and gripe with the fact that, no matter how much they love and miss each other, their respective paths are in direct opposition; unstoppable forces are meeting immovable objects here. Just as the Hebrews’ position of powerlessness doesn’t make them lose their humanity, so Rameses and Moses’ positions of power don’t make them lose theirs. The inevitable distance between the two brothers is made all the more heartbreaking to me when I look at Rameses’ son…because that’s a very, very funny and warm uncle that cute kid could have had.

And even outside of Rameses…it’s impossible not to note the terribly painful irony of Moses’ adoption into the Egyptian royal family. That is, the story highlights how a Hebrew child doesn’t look all that different from an Egyptian child that Moses and Rameses pass for brothers. No one suspects a thing and the queen cuddling Moses is, sweet as it may be, is a very, very harsh backdrop against the current slaughtering of all of the other Hebrew babies. By that extension, the king and queen can easily order the slaughter of several thousand children…and lovingly adopt one of those children as their own at the same time. It’s one of the moments in the movie where the careful humanization (in this case, the Egyptian royal family’s immediate acceptance of a newborn Hebrew) takes on a very, very painful hue.

Then you jump to the Ten Plagues and, once again, the movie’s creators show that the Egyptians are not all monstrous psychopaths. Rather, we see their fear, suffering and anguish just as we saw with the Hebrews in the opening scenes. Through the music, Moses himself notes his deep, internal conflict upon seeing the Egyptians being tortured, terrorized and killed by his own God:

[Moses]
This was my home
All this pain and devastation
How it tortures me inside
All the innocent who suffer
From your stubbornness and pride...

Now, the audience could decide to feel triumphant that the Egyptians are Getting Their Just Due. But, again, the movie takes the humanizing approach and actually shows a scene where two young children are trying to hide and protect themselves from the rain of fire, which is part of the Seventh Plague. Then you have the Tenth and Final Plague where all of the firstborn sons in Egypt are killed…and “a great cry/wail goes up in all of the land”. Once again, it’s tempting to point the finger and laugh because Karma apparently bleeds satisfactorily into Judaism. But we can’t because, just seconds after hearing the wailing and sobbing, we’re treated to a scene where Rameses is carrying the body of his son to a platform for burial. Though his words are the goal that the Hebrews have strived for all this time, there is no immediate celebrating; children had to die for it to get to this point. Innocent children whose worse action was probably not doing their chores on time.

Once again, this goes to show that the filmmakers are aiming at yet another very, very realistic parallel between the Egyptians and Hebrews: they, too, cry at the loss of their children. And the loss of those children was due to being enslaved by pharaoh in terms of his “stubbornness and pride”. Enslavement is a two-way poison and no one is safe.

The human struggle on either side isn’t diminished. So the Hebrews wanted to have their Exodus…a price had to be realistically paid. And that price literally made Moses, the leader of their journey, crumble into a fetal position and cry. As Moses, Tzipporah, Miriam, Aaron, and all the other Hebrews leave, the mood is originally somber and quiet; no one really wants to have won freedom at the hand of innocent deaths. Now, we go back to the humanization of the Hebrews; yes, they wanted to leave, but no they didn’t want so many to die.

Still, there’s something incredibly cathartic and rejuvenating when we watch the animation of several hundred thousand Hebrews finally making the journey out of the now-damaged Egypt. In the background, we see a few of the overseers humbly discard white headdresses and join the Hebrews in their Exodus. And this is where the humanity of the Hebrews hits its peak for me: you plainly see and feel them taking a deep, deep breath of air and a calming, comforting voice in their head saying “It’s Over”. They finally, collectively have the respectable moniker of human and dammit, I feel good right along with them.

Because, even when you don’t have a religion, there can be miracles when you believe, because, well…sometimes Hoping and Believing is all you have. And, like the characters in “The Prince of Egypt”, you hold onto that and, hopefully, you get to the place you want to go. For me that’s at the crux of what I love so much about the movie; I don’t really see the religion because I’m too busy marveling at the strength and dexterity of the human spirit.


*Yes, I understand that, in the Book of Exodus, the Hebrews actually end up suffering in the hot desert. Heck, a whole lot of them blame Moses and want to kill him. But don’t rain on my parade, or I’ll tickle you.

*To this day, I still have to have something to drink when I see the working conditions of the Hebrews. I couldn’t imagine my Privileged American behind toiling day after day in such a place…and I wouldn’t even get paid. @____@

*Of course, I imagine with the religion, a strong, interconnected and supporting community has to be a survival tactic of the Hebrews, as well.


http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120794/ (1)

http://www.stlyrics.com/p/princeofegypt.htm (2)