The Proud Princess takes me back to the days when my teenage daughters were considerably younger than they are now. Along with the likes of “Bubble Guppies,” “Octonauts,” and “Paw Patrol,” this movie would’ve fit right in with the kind of things they used to watch: 3D-animated, heavy on the adventure and friendship, and a sneaky moral or two—you know, normal kids’ entertainment. The only things that changed between the cartoons I watched in the ’80s and these new shows are the animation style—going from hand-drawn to computer-generated—and the volume level. For some reason, everything has to be turned up past 11 these days. (I’m pretty sure my parents said the same thing about “Transformers,” “Rubik, The Amazing Cube,” and “Smurfs.”)
Originally released in its native Czech Republic, The Proud Princess is an adaptation of the fairytale “Potrestaná pýcha,” in which the haughty Princess Krasomila dismisses a potential suitor, the young King Miroslav from a neighboring country, because of how he looks. Disguising himself as a gardener, he finds his way into work at her castle and shows her kindness, hoping to turn her heart away from vanity and spitefulness. It was adapted into a live-action film in 1952 (Pysná princezna), which this new animated version is based upon, finally seeing an English-dubbed US release now after its 2024 Czech debut.
When the film started, I was worried it would be like Thunder and the House of Magic or The Wild Life (a.k.a. Robinson Crusoe in some territories), where video game-like animation, over-the-top voicing, and shallow scripts push their morals rather than ease you into them. A few minutes into The Proud Princess, my fears were allayed by this genuinely earnest, well-meaning film that allows us to take our time with its characters while the conflict and resolution get set up around them. True, it’s a little hammy at times, and the motion of the characters is a little “Super Mario 64”-ish, but it’s not annoyingly so; you’ll get used to it before the opening credits finish and the title is displayed (for a second time, weirdly).
The story follows its literary origins, changing the names for this English-dubbed version to Princess Carolina (Georgia Lowe) and King Benjamin (William Attenborough). Here, Benjamin’s established as a genial, playful sort, a young king who pals around with a local kid while picking apples in his self-tended garden and avoiding his latest task, which is to consider marriage to Carolina. They’ve never met; he’s only shown a portrait of her, which piques his interest enough to have his envoy send his own simple portrait back to her. When she sees it, we see the reason for the title: She’s awful, going so far as to send his portrait back to him with a mustache drawn on it, an act that brings her no end of mirth while she considers another suitor’s painting, which portrays him as a dashing hero. (He’s… something quite opposite.)
We also learn the twofold reason why she treats everyone disdainfully: her mother’s death and the trio of “advisors” who’ve taken her place next to Carolina’s father. These three, led by the always-scheming Maximus (Max Bennet) and his pet ferret, have turned the Midnight Kingdom into a fearful place, with high taxes and a ban on singing, the latter of which used to be Carolina’s solace, having better memories of her mother singing to her and her father. I know, you’re probably saying, “Taxes and a singing ban? Curses! Whatever shall they do?” Well, it’s enough to establish the kind of pettiness and villainy Maximus and his friends are capable of, especially when Benjamin encounters one of their citizens crossing the border into the Sun Kingdom (Benjamin’s country) to let a song out of his heart. Trading clothes with this stranger, Benjamin finagles employment at Carolina’s castle and sees firsthand what she’s like. Instead of turning tail, he stays and puts his gardening skills to good use, which also reacquaints Carolina with the happier person she used to be.
Coming from a former kid who’s a current parent, there’s nothing stopping you from getting along with The Proud Princess. It’s not the kind of movie that grates on your nerves with overt, preachy notions; instead, it invites you into its sweetness, and it’s up to you to accept it. Gentler and kinder tones keep the movie uplifting and positive, and the voice actors do well in carefully and enthusiastically matching their lines to the established lip-read. Its biggest charm is that it doesn’t try to be anything it’s not, even though certain features might hew a little close to that of Frozen (the original songs might carry a little vibe lift, and check out Carolina’s room, for instance).
It also carries good messages of being true to yourself and others while not solely valuing appearances, and it does so in a manner that reaches out to you and asks you to meet it halfway. Co-directors David Lisý and Radek Beran (the latter of whom is credited with the screenplay) want you to engage with the movie instead of just letting it explain itself. Flashbacks are done with still drawings, not haze-treated animated sequences, which is a neat turn of technique, affording the audience time to really look at and consider what’s being shown. I like that Beran’s script leaves room for inference, something that a lot of today’s children’s films plaster over with sensory candy; it helps us feel like we’ve earned the right to know Carolina’s story and experience Benjamin’s personality by showing rather than telling.
There’s really nothing offensive about this movie (save for Maximus locking Carolina’s pet dog Bijou in a very uncomfortable cage at one point), and it moves quickly while still carving out time to say what it needs without being pedantic. That’s the real grace of Beran’s translated script; there’s no overlong dwelling in any one moment, a characteristic of productions like these that mires them in finger-wagging lesson land. Beran floats us the morals but also makes sure to pack in meaningful moments of connection and attention-grabbing action, letting us experience the story rather than shouting it at us. Its heart is good, and its spirit is valiant. This is why The Proud Princess can be considered a good Saturday afternoon flick for younger kids to watch while you’re doing the ironing or reading a book. Don’t be surprised if you get pulled into it, though; just make sure to unplug the iron and use a bookmark.
