ou can’t fight Indians without John Smith!” As salty tars of the Virginia Company board an English ship headed for the New World, clean-cut John Smith (Mel Gibson) himself clamors up the gangplank, insisting that he won’t miss out on the fun of the voyage. But that journey is fraught with danger, particularly as the weather is stormy and foggy and sailors are swept overboard. Fortunately for men like Thomas (Christian Bale), Smith is quite the heroic lad, quick to come to the rescue of struggling mariners. The towering Governor Ratcliffe (David Ogden Stiers, who comically also voices obsequious manservant Wiggins) certainly doesn’t share his empathy, mostly unconcerned about his crew – just as long as enough of them live so that he has labor to dig for gold.

“Where’s my daughter?” Meanwhile, in the New World (Virginia), young Pocahontas (Irene Bedard), the daughter of the chief of the Powhatan tribe, is off enjoying the land, thinking about anything but her responsibilities and image – and certainly not worrying about her father’s plans to marry her off to stoic warrior Kocoum. Of course, she’ll have plenty to distress over once the settlers from England arrive, intent on invading and destroying (in the name of King James I) much more than exploring and appreciating.

Although the premise is obviously based on historical events, the setup shares a great many similarities to “The Little Mermaid,” “Beauty and the Beast,” and “Aladdin” with its female protagonist who has no interest in routines and traditional paths of adolescence, instead navigating her own fiercely independent way toward maturation, love, and courage. Of course, here Disney has to maneuver around racism and contempt for otherness, as the Englishmen spout hostilities like “savages,” “uncivilized,” “vermin,” “barely even human,” and “filthy heathens” toward the Indians (itself an outdated term). But to soften the animosity are Alan Menken’s score and songs, which are generally upbeat and booming, supplementing the action and confrontations with a cheeriness and excitement that would, outside the realm of animation, be more difficult to obtain.

With a discernible sanitization (bullets do cause damage – of the bloodless variety) and a touch of unbelievable magic to overcome the language barrier, a generic romance unfolds between two enigmas of contrasting peoples, destined to craft an understanding and cooperation as a microcosmic symbol of overcoming fears and ignorances (pets Meeko and Percy reflect creatures incapable of such emotional complexity). With minimal friction, Pocahontas and John flirt and get along swimmingly, which is in stark opposition to the rest of the groups’ members, as a war brews. And the conflicts feel severer with the aggressiveness of Ratcliffe, who may be one-note as a villain, but works well as an easy persona to embody the worst qualities and perspectives of the merciless conquerors (even if he doesn’t get the most fitting of comeuppances).

After the successes of Disney’s previous animated features, “Pocahontas” has a tough time separating itself, despite the drastic shift in period and locations. It may not be as fantastical or fairy-tale-like, but it follows a formula that doesn’t deviate much: with swift pacing, the lone, gallant woman musters the strength to alter the course of history and save countless lives – quite unlike in reality. And amusing songs interrupt or distract from the utter predictable nature of it all. Still, Pocahontas’ soaring aria of “Colors of the Wind” is an instant winner – a tune that is substantial and memorable enough to become the primary enduring factor.

– Mike Massie