Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame Scared Kids Too Much To Convey Its Necessary Message About Frollo

Men, monsters, and why we should never accept systematic hate.

Note: Since “gypsy” is a slur, I will only put it in quotes and use “Romani” for the majority of the article.

A friend informed me that on June 19, 1996, Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame premiered in theaters. It hit me because I remembered asking my parents if we could go see it. We saw a lot of Disney movies then since my parents had five kids.

Doing the math, I was four, going on five, when I first saw The Hunchback of Notre Dame. No wonder the movie freaked me out for years. I only started rewatching it and the German stage show in college. While I read an abridged version of the novel, I admit I found it lacking in some ways. Disney arguably made the film darker than the book because rather than argue that everyone’s imperfections get them killed, it asserts that cruel people with power will abuse anyone they can crush under their foot. Worse, these people remain oblivious to their cruelty, insisting they are the good guys and obligated to perform their duties in a chaotic world.

Yes, I’m talking about Judge Claude Frollo. And I will commit book blasphemy by saying that Frollo has to be a judge rather than a priest for Disney’s version to work. He needs to have political power, because the religious power can only restrain his cruelty for so long.

The Message: Racism KILLS

The Hunchback of Notre Dame doesn’t say “people who look different from you, whether it’s skin tone or physical features, aren’t evil and they may be the same as you”. Pocahontas already did that, and the audience wasn’t amused by the shallow message obviously not aimed at the POC in the audience. Instead, we get a blunter message: “choosing to be hateful and scapegoating people leads to great disaster for everyone, including yourself.”

The movie shows this democracy in action. We see Frollo, a skinny guy dressed in fine clothes when hunting down “gypsy criminals” who might otherwise be attractive to the older crowd if not for his cruelty. Then we meet Quasimodo, born with the titular hunched back, having an irregular face and swollen eye while wearing a plain green tunic. Esmeralda makes her appearance dancing for money. Frollo’s first action leads to a woman’s death; Quasimodo’s first action helps a bird take its first flight; Esmeralda asserts herself against guards who think she stole her earnings. These moments directly contradict the book, where Frollo is tragic, Quasimodo is obsessive, and Esmeralda is shallow. Phoebus is the only one who fit the mold of a conventional hero and is adapted into one accordingly. We need to root for someone, or why watch the movie?

The movie doesn’t want us to stick with that basic, bland and ineffective message. Instead, the story emphasizes how Frollo’s bigotry against others is deadly. He hates the Romani and calls a baby Quasimodo a “monster” for being deformed. Those sent to the Palace of Justice never return, including former captains who have displeased him. He kills a woman onscreen, something only Scar had done previously in The Lion King, and nearly drowns a baby if not for the Archdeacon intervening. We can assume he had a body count when sacking Paris, given the fires and tossing Romani caravans into the Seine.

Racism kills. So do abusive people with power.

Frollo Is A Hypocrite

As Clopin narrates to kids at his puppet show, Frollo thinks the world is cruel and corrupt but never looks into a metaphorical mirror. Hence, he doesn’t even look into a literal one. All he sees is a twisted reality, a Hell on Earth that needs to be tamed by his form of justice.

The way Frollo callously murders Quasimodo’s mother, who ran from him to protect her baby, shows this hypocrisy. As the Archdeacon angrily points out, he committed murder on the steps of Notre Dame, the biggest Catholic church in Paris. And he was going to kill a baby! There is no way Frollo can justify that, even as he insists that the woman ran from him and he wasn’t to blame. The Archdeacon then points out all the saints’ statues surrounding them, especially the Virgin Mary, are watching. That gesture, the fear for “his immortal soul,” causes Frollo to change his mind.

We like the Archdeacon because he doesn’t buy into Frollo’s image as the end-all-be-all leader Paris needs. That’s not to say he underestimates the guy; he warns Esmeralda after Phoebus lies that she claimed sanctuary that Frollo isn’t a man who lets go of grudges. While the Archdeacon can’t openly approve of Esmeralda’s actions, he smirks while offering advice on how not to anger a murderous judge while still doing the right thing. He shows no fear when facing the other end of the swords or spears, prepared to interfere with Esmeralda’s execution. If more real-life religious leaders were like the Archdeacon, we’d probably have less suffering.

Unfortunately, the Archdeacon can only do so much. He has no political power, only spiritual influence. While the Archdeacon convinces Frollo to raise the baby as his own son, he can’t interfere with every meeting that Frollo and Quasimodo have, especially since Frollo does take his penance seriously enough to teach Quasimodo how to read. Frollo can also come and leave the church while Esmeralda stays there, warning her she can’t stay within the walls forever; not even the Archdeacon can ban him. And when the Archdeacon attempts to stop Esmeralda’s execution and Frollo setting his army on Notre Dame? Frollo uses his army and physical power to ensure the other man can’t retaliate.

“Hellfire” Is A Turning Point

One could argue that “Hellfire” humanizes Frollo that other moments couldn’t. Frollo insists to himself while singing to the Virgin Mary that he’s always tried to be a good Catholic and doesn’t know why he’s thinking of Esmeralda, of wanting her. She’s a criminal, sinful, and a “witch who cast the flame!”

I’m a skeptical agnostic, and I believe that many religions are systems that people use to control others. But even I pity Frollo a bit as he imagines Heaven’s Judges and Hell’s Devils judging him. The way Tony Jay chokes out, “It’s not my fault!” shows a man fearing not just his soul but also his body. He cannot understand lust or weird human bodies. That fear consumes him.

Frollo could have truly changed with the epiphany that he feels attracted towards Esmeralda, and that she’s not the demon he believes she is. He could have realized he was a weak man in spirit, and his rock bottom is sending a clear message. Instead, Frollo insists that Esmeralda has enspelled him, mistaking her stage magic for the real thing, and he’s not to blame. He plans to burn her so her magic cannot affect him anymore, or make her “his”. His planning to “burn all of Paris” on hearing about her escape shows he has not thought through the moral consequences.

Frollo truly crosses the point of no return with this song. While he was already evil, we had also seen him trying to atone for killing Quasimodo’s mother and though it was for selfish reasons. Quasimodo grew up into a fundamentally decent person, meaning Frollo did something right. But he decides to kill another innocent person and anyone who stands in his way, all because he cannot face himself. We know there’s no saving or redeeming him.

Esmeralda Didn’t Ask To Become An Obsession

Though Esmeralda knows how to pole dance and shimmy for a crowd, something that excites Phoebus, angers Frollo, and embarrasses Quasimodo, she confides in Quasimodo that she actually doesn’t like doing it. Quasimodo mentions that she’s good at dancing, but Esmeralda makes it clear that it’s a job. She’d rather learn to carve the way Quasimodo does to earn a living. Artisanry would provide dignity and agency.

Why is that conversation necessary? To fend off accusations that Esmeralda was “asking” for Frollo’s murderous obsession. Society likes to blame what women are wearing or doing when cis straight men target them. Esmeralda dances to “put bread on the table,” in her words. Off the clock, Esmeralda just wants to chill with her goat Djali.

Likewise, the narrative establishes that Esmeralda is her own person. She’s not an unattainable object, figure of temptation, or such. Her goal in the movie becomes trying to rescue Quasimodo from an abusive situation when she learns that Frollo raised him. She offers to bring him to the Court of Miracles; when he balks after his first disastrous day outside, Esmeralda gives him a necklace which he figures out is a map to the Court. She also asks if she can visit him, reassuring Quasimodo she can sneak past Frollo and the guards.

Seeing Esmeralda for who she is liberates the heroes. Though in most narratives the hero would get the girl, Quasimodo respects her choosing someone else after processing the initial heartbreak since he doesn’t need a woman’s love to feel validated. He does what Frollo can’t by facing himself. As a result, he ends the movie as a hero for Paris for defending Notre Dame and Esmeralda.

The Literal Boiling Point

In the climax, Frollo’s hypocrisy maxes out as he orders his guards to “seize the Cathedral”, ultimately ending his reign of terror. To everyone, it looks like Frollo has declared war on God and the Virgin Mary; even the new Captain is appalled by this order in the German stage version and hesitates. The siege turns the citizens of Paris against Frollo, with Phoebus igniting the flame, and they free the captive Romani while fighting his army. The Romani join in the melee, with Clopin looking particularly eager for payback against Frollo.

Symbolically, Quasimodo’s fundamental compassion won over Frollo’s cruelty, as we see with the gargoyles. Though the creators confirmed that the gargoyles are figments of Quasimodo to keep him company in the tower, they defend the Cathedral. In fact, gargoyles were mounted to protect buildings and its inhabitants. That Quasimodo’s figments become real enough to shoot fire, bricks, and birds at the soldiers shows how far Frollo has transgressed. A gargoyle ends up killing Frollo, coming to life and roaring so he falls into the fiery Hell he foresaw for Esmeralda. The divine intervened to protect the outcast hunchback, not the devout judge.

The Monsters Unmasked By Hate

More than ever, people need to look in the mirror. Not to check an unwanted scar or apply makeup, but to understand when they are abusing their power or using hate as an excuse to be evil. A good number remain oblivious when the rest of the world calls them out for hypocrisy.

We’re seeing multiple Frollos in power currently. And some walking on the street who go to work with us, expressing self-righteous while ignoring the dead bodies and trauma. We can’t sic Notre Dame gargoyles on them, but we can identify those who won’t see other people because of racial identity or physical traits.

As Clopin asks in the movie’s singing finale, “What makes a monster, and what makes a man?” It’s who chooses to look at themselves. Anyone can become a monster; much harder is remaining human.

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