Deconstructing Shrek: From Manhood to Fatherhood In Four Steps

I spent a chunk of last weekend at the theater with my three demonic beloved loin-fruits children surviving enduring enjoying watching the fourth installment of the brilliant critically-acclaimed successful Shrek series, and as we wandered out afterwards - blinking in the unfamiliar sunlight, growing reaccustomed to a world without magical creatures and irrationally tacked-on musical sequences - I started thinking about the Shrek series as a whole, and how the evolution of the titular ogre from film to film offers a green-tinted mirror to the experience of many of my daddish brethren.

Granted, we may not all be 8 feet tall, graced with antennae-like horns or capable of speaking at great length in a Scots burr, but as we look back over the series and trace Shrek's transformation from lonesome swamp denizen to harried father of three, we may find more common ground than we'd ever expect to find with anything associated with (shudder) Mike Myers.

Shrek: The Quest for Love
The first - and by far the best - entry in the series presents us with ogre as young man. He's got his own place (predictably filthy), he's got a low-paying job that he enjoys (terrifying villagers), and he's making small strides in carving out his own little niche in the world. But beneath his apparent contentment is something more: an unvoiced yearning for companionship that he tries - repeatedly - to deny. It's a feeling that first takes form in the gruff and uneasy camaraderie he develops with a jackass (literally) who stumbles into his life — a chipper, talkative, effervescent creature who seems the antithesis of everything our hero is and believes in... in other words, a welcome counterbalance to his cantankerous bachelor ways, and a friend destined to become the ideal wingman.

It is with this new friend that he embarks on a great adventure: free of responsibility to anyone but themselves, they throw caution to the wind and set out to explore the world, fight dragons and storm the castle. In our world, these are metaphors for the fickle turns of fate and time; in Shrek's, they are fairytale reality. And as must be the case in all fairytale scenarios... this one leads to a princess.

She is slim and beautiful, wealthy and powerful, born of nobility and born to the manor: a polar opposite to our green, Scots-accented avatar in every possible sense. Shrek instinctively dismisses her as a stereotype — only to discover that she is not so easily dismissed. His slow discovery of all that lies beneath Fiona's surface - her unexpected depth of character and humor, her willingness to fight and ability to look beneath his own gruff and menacing exterior - is our first real indication that Shrek is us: someone who's spent so much of his young manhood/ogrehood defining what's important to him and expecting the world to seek out and discover his complex, hidden depths that he can't be bothered to do the same for others.

Fortunately, he has help. He has a boon companion and wingman, who pushes him to get his head out of his ass and begin to appreciate all that this girl brings to the table. And the girl herself is something marvelous: both spectacular enough to motivate him to emerge from his self-possessed shell and reach out with something like tenderness... and tough enough to kick his ass when he's too stubborn or stupid to figure out the right thing to do on his own.

By film's end, Shrek is transformed from lone wolf to someone who craves love and acceptance — and what's more, someone who's actually found it. Fiona's final, magical evolution into a permanent ogre-like state only makes explicit what the rest of the film had already made clear: on all possible levels, she is the perfect woman for him. And the fact that he has found her makes him the luckiest bastard alive.

Shrek 2: Family Matters

So. Meeting the girl of your dreams? Awesome. Getting her to look beyond your flaws and find something worth her time and energy? Even awesomer. Perhaps the awesomest thing in the world. But as Shrek 2 details... getting her family to look beyond those same flaws and embrace you as someone worthy of their beautiful daughter? That's a different challenge altogether — and a hurdle that many of us spend months, years or lifetimes trying to overcome.

When Fiona brings Shrek back to her hometown to introduce him to her parents, it's pretty much a given that things aren't going to go well. Above and beyond the normal compunctions that any parents will have with the man who's chosen their daughter as a mate... well, let's see:

1) They're royalty.

2) He's an ogre.

3) And now she's an ogre. Which they'll probably blame on him.

So right off the bat, you've got major socio-economic (not to mention cross-species) issues to deal with. Can we blame Shrek for being skeptical? Hell no. The odds are clearly heavily weighted towards this visit resulting in nothing but a complete fiasco. Can we blame him for not making a legitimate effort to try to show his in-laws the same qualities that earned their daughter's love? Well... our minds may say yes, but in our hearts we recognize that we'd probably cop the same attitude he does. (The fact that this attitude is more than a little justified - the attempts by Fiona's Dad to... uh... hire someone to kill Shrek certainly seem a bit extreme for even the most strained in-law relationship - is beside the point.) The lesson Shrek spends the movie learning: sometimes, when it comes to keeping your wife happy and establishing/maintaining some form of in-law detente... you've gotta be the bigger man (or ogre) and let your pride take the hit. 

It's a tough lesson, and some people never figure it out. But it's a key sign of maturity, and a key step on the evolution from guy to man to family man. Personally, I was lucky in that I got along pretty well with my in-laws from the first time I (formally) met them — then again, I'm astonishingly charming and handsome. That said, I'm well aware that I'm going to be a complete fucking nightmare for whatever poor bastards my daughters bring home in another 15ish years. Why? Because it's my responsibility to be tough - for my daughters' sakes - and because I believe that any guy worth his salt is going to be able to navigate whatever hassles I throw his way. It's a role I'll evolve into in the coming years... and, I suppose, it's my responsibility (in some sense) to help the poor bastards in question face this step in their own evolution.

Shrek 3: Oh My God She's Pregnant

Having made his peace with his in-laws in Shrek 2: Electric Bugaloo, our ginormous emerald stand-in kicks off movie #3 by watching his father-in-law die. Which, to be honest, seems kind of an abrupt and rather downbeat way to start a movie about princesses and talking donkeys. But whatever: it's enough to kick-start another 93 minutes of fairytale socio-political machinations as various parties squabble over the throne and... blah blah blah. The important thing is: Fiona gets knocked up.

That's a bingo! And thus, the entirety of the film hums along on the uncomfortable undercurrent of Shrek slowly, reluctantly coming to terms with the reality of impending fatherhood, and the unavoidable transformation of his life that it will trigger.

Look: I know that different people enter fatherhood with differing perspectives — for some people, it's approached with enormous glee and anticipation, others a quiet grace and acceptance of new responsibility, and still others anxiety and/or terror. For me... well, I won't say that my reaction was precisely like that of Shrek, but will admit that there were elements of his ambivalence about the idea of parenthood  that rang familiar to me. It's not hard to understand why: at this point, we've seen him evolve from lonesome, cranky ogre to beloved husband and accepted member of society. He's worked hard, he's happy where he is... and he doesn't want things to change. If it ain't broken, don't fuck it up.

And so, when he first finds out that Fiona is indeed pregnant... he kinda freaks out. It's the end of the world as he knows it, and there's a process he has to go through in order to make sense of it and figure out how to proceed. The process may not be something he can articulate or define, but it's something he's gotta work out — and honestly, it's not an illogical reaction. He's suddenly discovering that he's not standing on the edge of a precipice, but that he is - in fact - already in the midst of soaring over that edge and plunging into the great, unknowable beyond. It's intimidating and exhilarating and ten different flavors of terrifying, and if his instant reaction to the news isn't parental glow and all-caps LOVE... well, what can you say? Shrek, like many of us, is a bit slow to come around when his life changes on a dime. And while it may take him a bit longer than his wife would prefer to arrive in the promised land of "This is great; let's take the next step together," the important thing is that he DOES get there. In the end, he steps up like a man... ogre... whatever... and accepts the burden and blessing of parenthood.

(Did I mention they have triplets? Good God. You think having a kid throws a monkey wrench into your life? Try multiples. Trust me on this, and trust me that cutting our boy Shrek a little extra slack for hitting the trifecta on his first voyage into parenthood is the very least we can do.)

Shrek 4: This Is Not My Beautiful House. This Is Not My Beautiful Wife.

Which brings us to the fourth entry in the Shrek trilogy (apologies to Douglas Adams) — the gigantic cash-in that my kids and I saw the other weekend. It begins with a scene of domestic peace and tranquility: a great day with the kids, a wonderful, laugh-filled dinner with friends, and then settling down to bed with a beloved wife. Gives you a great big warm fuzzy right about... here. (I'm pointing at my heart; not sure where your mind is directing you.)

And then we see the next day. Which is identical. And the next day. And the next. And the next. And. Every. Day. Is. Exactly. The. Fucking. Same. And you see that while Shrek loves his family and his life... the monochromatic daily grind is sucking joy out of him just like one a them sparkly Twilight vampires. We see him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering, "How did I get here?"

All of this serves as a lead-in to a birthday party for the Shrek triplets. Friends, family, strangers all gathered together in the fairyland equivalent of Chuck E. Cheese's pizzatorium of despair... and the noise level rises... and mistakes keep happening... and someone's obnoxious kid keeps hassling him... and more mistakes happen... and we see the tension mounting, his temper rising, his struggle to maintain control - to be the man and father he wants and needs to be - slipping away inch by inch, his need to remind the world that he's not just a harried father of many but a FUCKING OGRE WHO SHOULD BE RESPECTED AS A FUCKING OGRE AND...

He cracks. And unleashes his terrible ogre howl - which is initially misinterpreted as him being playful - and then he truly loses his cool and... well, he ruins the birthday party. It is a moment of terrible parental shame, in which he allows himself the luxury of indulging his anger and need to be respected at the cost of his family's best interests... and the world he has made recoils from him in disappointment and something like disgust.

He is, of course, too stubborn and stupid to realize the errors of his ways at first — so instead of trying to make good, he stalks off into the countryside... and makes a deal with the devil (played here by Rumpelstiltskin, but let's be clear: he's Lucifer). Ostensibly, it's an exchange of days — he trades one day of his past for a day of freedom, where he can go back "to the way things were, just for a day" and he can relive his ogre glories. But in truth, he's trading his soul for a temporary taste of freedom... and as soon as he discovers the price of his hubris, he dedicates himself to setting things right.

And that's the rest of the movie; it's kind of a through-the-glass-darkly version of It's A Wonderful Life, where Shrek discovers that a world without him is a vastly different and darker place. His best friend is friendless and bereft of joy. His wife is hardened by life and conflict. His children were never born.

Basically, it's depressing as hell, and it's all his fault. The lesson of all of this is ultimately spelled out in 10-foot high letters, just to make sure we don't miss it - "I never knew what I had until I lost it all" - and while he ultimately undoes the magic that cast him out of his domestic Eden and into this post-apocalyptic cartoon hell... we can only imagine the kind of psychological damage this must leave behind. The film ends with Shrek back at the birthday party, able to stop himself before he blows his cool and ruins everything - which allows the kids in the audience to walk away feeling good, knowing that peace has been restored and the happy family is happy once again - but for those among us in the audience who recognize something uncomfortably familiar in Shrek's struggles to integrate the man/ogre he was into the father figure he's become...

It's a hard lesson.