After years of chasing approval from progressive activists, Disney now finds itself caught in an irony of its own making. The company’s new short film Versa has stirred outrage among precisely the same online audience that once demanded more “representation.” The reason? It celebrates a man and a woman falling in love, starting a family, and finding meaning through tragedy.
Versa premiered at the Animation Is Film Festival and immediately drew attention when images from the movie went viral on social media. One scene shows the couple holding hands under a pink sky as a glowing star lights up the woman’s pregnant belly. The image is tender, symbolic, and unmistakably about new life. That was enough to set parts of the internet off.
“My 3-year-old granddaughter looked at me with her innocent eyes and said, ‘Grandma, is it normal for a woman to love a man? Disgusting…’” wrote one user. Another pretended to be offended by the idea of a straight couple: “Forcing my granddaughter to see this repulsive hetero propaganda; a kid shouldn’t be forced upon these views at such a young age.”
The sarcasm was meant to mock those who have spent years labeling anything featuring traditional family dynamics as “problematic.” But what’s striking is how many activists seemed genuinely uncomfortable that Disney, the company they helped push toward the edge of progressive politics, would dare produce a short film centered on a man and woman in love.
Animator Malcon Pierce, known for his work on Moana, said Versa was inspired by the loss of his and his wife’s infant son, Cooper. The film follows the couple through grief and renewal in what Pierce describes as “a cosmic dance of life.” The project is deeply personal and includes no dialogue, only music, motion, and imagery to capture a journey of faith, healing, and reconnection.
Pierce explained that his family’s pain helped shape the emotional weight of the film. At their baby shower, his mother-in-law gave them a crystal star that cast rainbow reflections around their kitchen. “It became a way of remembering Cooper and keeping him close to us,” he recalled. Composer Haim Mazar scored the short with a 69-piece orchestra that underscores the story’s melancholy and beauty. Symbolism from the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, reinforces the idea that loss and love can coexist.
There is no agenda in this story—no attempt to push politics—just the universal message that tragedy can lead to renewal. Yet to the audience Disney itself has cultivated over the past decade, such a message is practically offensive. The same cultural critics who cheered the inclusion of a same-sex kiss in Lightyear and applauded the identity themes in Cruella are now mocking a depiction of a man, a woman, and a family born of love.
This is what happens when a company spends years telling one segment of the population that everything traditional is wrong and outdated. Disney carefully built a brand around the approval of the activist class and the corporate DEI mindset. Now, that same crowd turns on the studio the moment it releases a film that reflects normal human relationships—the kind that used to define every Disney classic from Cinderella to The Lion King.
It used to be simple. Disney told stories of good and evil, love and loss, and families who leaned on one another in hard times. That kind of storytelling didn’t need lectures or hashtags. It needed heart. The fact that Versa—a gentle, wordless piece about grief and healing—could provoke outrage shows how far the company’s audience has shifted. The progressive bubble Disney helped create now demands ideological purity even in a story about life itself.
Disney has not commented on the controversy, and it probably won’t. But one thing is clear: the reaction to Versa says less about the short film and more about the cultural expectations Disney has spent years feeding. When a simple portrayal of a husband and wife can be deemed “offensive,” the audience Disney built might no longer have room for anything human.
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English (US) · 