The Narrative Function of Songs in Musicals

Every once in a while, I get extremely nostalgic and watch Singin’ in the Rain. It’s one of those effortlessly charming movies that reminds you of the Hollywood of old (or at least the romanticized version of it), and it features some of the most incredible singing and dancing one could hope to see in a musical on screen. But alas, I’m a screenwriter, and it drives me insane that most of the songs have absolutely nothing to do with the story. I’m not saying it’s a bad movie, mind you. I’m saying that it feels like there’s a story and there’s the songs, and nary the two shall meet.

The story, for me at least, is the driving force behind any emotional response I may have to a movie. Everything that goes into making a film is ultimately there to strengthen that response, whether it be performance, cinematography, or any number of elements that can make a movie unique. This also includes songs in musicals. (Sometimes, I make this point to musical theater people and they get mad at me. It’s a thing.)

Recently, my writing partner and I decided to write a musical ourselves, and the discussion over the narrative function of songs in musicals became less theoretical and more “Holy shit, how the fuck do we do this?” So after watching dozens and dozens of musicals and studying the structure of each, we came up with a list.

We’ve talked about Disney musicals before, so we’re going to stick with them here. Sure, I’m a millennial, so nostalgia and all that. However, Disney actually does an incredible job of using their songs effectively, and it’s rare that you can cut one without harming the story. (Side note: Even if you don’t care for the humor, South Park: Bigger, Longer, & Uncut is a fantastically structured musical you should all study if you’re into this kind of thing.)

1. Status Quo/Way of Life

This song often begins your musical. Your protagonist lives a certain life in a certain place, but there’s something missing. Your character may not know what that something is, but it’s out there, just out of reach.

In Beauty and the Beast, “Belle,” and its reprise, establish our protagonist. Belle lives in a small village in the country with her father. She’s not supposed to read books or have a life of her own. Rather, she’s expected to settle down, have some kids, and be a little wife in a little town. Yet she craves adventure and a life where she’s free to live as she pleases. Thus, the song establishes the life she has, the life she craves, and life that may be forced on her by the town’s biggest dickhead, Gaston.

"Kill. Kill. Kill." - The thoughts of everyone to the left of Belle, all of whom seem to be staring at us.

Our protagonist in Tangled is Rapunzel, a seventeen year old girl with unsettlingly huge eyes and extraordinarily long hair. She’s lived in a tower all her life, and her days consist of performing a number of dull house chores and pet projects. She wants to see where the lanterns that always light up the sky on her birthday come from, but her “mother” never lets her go. With no end in sight, all she has in her life is that question, and thus the song, “When Will My Life Begin?”

Although Pocahontas herself doesn’t actually appear during the song, I consider “Steady as the Beating Drum” a status quo song. The song establishes an ancient way of life that may be routine, but also deeply rewarding in a spiritual sense. Later in “Just Around the Riverbend,” Pocahontas thinks about the direction of her life. She sings, “Should I choose the smoothest course/Steady as the beating drum?/Should I marry Kocoum?/Is all my dreaming to an end?/Or do you still wait for me, dream giver/Just around the river bend?” “Steady as the Beating Drum” then becomes the embodiment of the life she doesn’t want. She wants something unpredictable and adventurous, and she can feel it just around the river bend.

2. Setting

If your opening song isn’t a status quo song, it’s usually a setting song. This song not only establishes where and when your story takes place, but also the kind of community our protagonist lives in, as well as the societal expectations.

In cases where the setting song begins the movie, it’s common that the story introduces the protagonist later. “Arabian Nights” not only establishes that Aladdin takes place in the Middle East, but also that this is a dangerous place “where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face.” In order to survive here, you have to sleep with one eye open. Now that we know where we are, Aladdin enters the story with “One Jump Ahead.” Turns out our hero is extraordinarily adept at living in this menacing place, and that might matter later in the story.

Sometimes a setting song can have the opposite effect. You set up a place with certain rules, and your protagonist lives to defy or ignore them. “Down in New Orleans,” the opening song in The Princess and the Frog, establishes a city rich with culture and vitality. However, as Dr. John sings of New Orleans offscreen, we watch our protagonist Tiana work herself practically to death so she can save money to start her dream restaurant. Culture matters less to her than her dreams. Belle wants to escape her provincial life. Tiana wants to afford one.

This may be a matter of taste, but I consider it cheating if your song isn’t being sung by a character on screen.

One of the main differences between a status quo song and a setting song is that a setting song doesn’t necessarily have to begin your film. Your protagonist goes somewhere new, and there might be a song to introduce this place. “Be Our Guest” from Beauty and the Beast is a setting song, only instead of establishing a society and culture in a large city or land mass, it establishes a small one in the castle. Belle’s place in this world is that of a guest to be treated with care and respect. A big hairy beast, however, looms upstairs waiting to break her from that role.

3. Eternal Longings

Screenwriting 101: Every character wants something. This is the song that not only establishes what that something is, but also establishes the emotion that drives characters to make whatever decisions they make. Your protagonist has a “want,” but they also have a “need.” They chase one thing, and they get it only to lose it and realize what was actually missing in their lives. The eternal longing song usually addresses the “want” and hints at the “need.”

In The Lion King, Simba sings of his desire for freedom and agency in “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King.” Whereas the princesses want freedom in a general sense, Simba specifically says that he wants to be king and rule over the land. That is his goal. However, he wants the throne out of a boyish desire to do as he pleases, not out of any sense of duty. He’ll eventually be led astray from that path, and ultimately he learns that being king isn’t just about people not telling you what to do, but about honor, respect, and what’s best for those in your care.

Ugh. Simba. Smug piece of shit. HOPE NOTHING BAD HAPPENS TO YOU!!!

In The Little Mermaid, Ariel has a fascination with the world outside of the ocean. Life in the water is dissatisfying, and she wants something different. She sings “Part of Your World” as she swims around the artifacts she’s collected from the human world. But the things aren’t enough. She wants a life amongst the humans where she can dance with her feet. Life amongst the humans has to be more liberating and free, and she might do something drastic to attain it.

If there’s a formula specific to Disney musicals, it’s that the protagonist is trapped in a way of life they don’t want, and they long for a sense of freedom and adventure. Belle sings of this want in “Belle.” Rapunzel sings of it in “When Will My Life Begin?,” as does Ariel in “Part of Your World” and Pocahontas in “Just Around the Riverbend.” Even some of the non-princess protagonists sing about it, as is the case with “Out There,” sung by Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The important thing to take away from all this is that whatever your protagonist desires can either be a specific concrete thing or something more abstract, like a feeling or an idea. The song can literally be, “I WANT SPECIFICALLY TO GO TO THE PLACE AND DO THE THING!!!” (Note: This is a guide to making a functional song, not a good song. So... don't make your song that shallow.) It can also simply be, “I don’t like how I feel, and I wish things were different.”

4. Story Moments

There’s probably a sexier name for this kind of song, but it sure has a sexy purpose: A character, doesn’t matter if it’s the villain or the protagonist, declares that they're going to do something, then they go off and do it. Aww yeah, narrative momentum. Hot.

Scar decides he’s going to kill Mufasa and Simba, but he can’t do it alone. He needs backup and support, so he decides to recruit the hyenas. He gathers them all and sings “Be Prepared.” He promises the hyenas that under his rule, they’ll never go hungry again, and they get free reign to go where they want and do what they want. Scar accomplishes his goal, and now Mufasa’s fate is sealed.

We already know that Ariel wants to be part of the human world, but then she sees Eric. She rescues him from the shipwreck and watches him from the beach. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get him, but there’s no going back now. Thus we get the “Part of Your World” reprise, where instead of an abstract feeling, she has a specific goal in mind. Sure, Eric may be a bit of a mannequin, but he’s Ariel's mannequin, and that’s the story we’re going to get.

Since the story song has the most nebulous definition, it can also be presented to us in a variety of different ways while serving the same function. In Mulan, the Huns are coming. Mulan chooses to protect her father by taking his place in the military. She disguises herself as a man, but now she has to learn how to “be” one. As Mulan trains with the other soldiers, Shang sings “I’ll Make a Man Out of You.” As he sings, Mulan struggles to keep up with the pack, but eventually succeeds. Now she’s equipped to handle the huns, and now she’s worthy in the eyes of her fellow warriors. Though Mulan isn’t singing the song herself, she still has a goal, and the song functions to help her achieve it.

5. Emotional Arc/A New Perspective

In the beginning of your story, your character had a unique but ultimately self-destructive worldview. Your character embarked on a journey to find something to sustain that perspective, but then something happened. Maybe your character fell in love. Maybe it's something traumatic. Whatever may have happened, your character has changed, and this song expresses a kind of rebirth.

In Frozen, Elsa has spent her entire life bottling her emotions to hide her ice powers from the rest of the world. Circumstances have conspired to expose her, and now she’s sent herself into exile in the mountains. Though initially a sad moment, she soon discovers that there’s no need to restrain herself anymore. She’s cut off from everyone she loves, but now she can allow herself to actually feel. She’s free from the fear of harming others and doing what’s expected of her, so now she can “Let It Go.”

You belt that depression metaphor song, Elsa! Belt it!

Simba has also found himself in self-imposed exile, only instead of accidentally revealing his ice powers, it’s because Scar tricked him into thinking he killed his father. Although it seems like all is lost, he meets Pumbaa and Timon who teach him a new problem free philosophy, “Hakuna Matata.” Now life is livable again. Simba has found a way to unburden himself of the guilt and despair that comes from thinking you did something unforgivable. He lives this way for a pretty long time, but his old life eventually calls him back.

John Smith is an admirer of nature, but a colonist in his heart. There was a time when shooting a Native American or two didn’t lose him sleep at night. Soon, however, he meets Pocahontas. She gets mad at him for referring to her people as “savages,” and sings “Colors of the Wind.” She reveals to him that he’s one with everything, and as soon as he realizes that, he can find peace. From then on, he’ll do anything to protect Pocahontas and the Native Americans from harm, including sacrifice his own life.

Generally speaking, Disney musicals are light in songs in the second half of act two and the whole of act three. These are the areas of the story that require the most narrative heavy lifting, and though songs can tackle that burden in the beginning, the kind of events that need to happen later in stories do not lend themselves as easily to songs. That said, every musical is different, and there are ways of putting songs in the end. (In our musical, my co-writer and I found that story moment songs and reprises worked best in the final act.)

This list was not meant to be a set of rules so much as simple tools to help you. Every musical is different, and there are major contrasts between seeing a musical on stage and seeing one on screen. Either way, the important thing to remember is that songs in musicals need to be essential. They need to draw us even further into the story and the characters, otherwise they’ll feel like fat that could easily be trimmed. The songs are what audiences remember most. Bring up The Lion King to a fellow millennial such as myself and you’ll hear plenty of warm memories of “Hakuna Matata” and “Can You Feel the Love Tonight.” (Both emotional arc/new perspective songs.) Bring up Aladdin and you’ll hear all about “A Whole New World.” (Also an emotional arc/new perspective song.)

People come back to musicals again and again for the songs. Make them matter.