Volume 3, Issue 2

Disney’s animated villains have recently changed to show less conventionally villainous traits: They look and express themselves more like sympathetic characters, and they are usually only outed as villains late in the plot. This shift has prompted much academic com­mentary on the psychological and cultural significance of Disney’s new villains. We add to the existing literature on Disney’s new villains in two ways. First, we analyze shifts in the vocalizations of villains between the 1990s and 2010s. Second, we integrate this analysis in a biocultural account of Disney’s shifting overall representations of villains. We argue that while Disney has long employed evolutionarily explicable cues to villainy, such as a foreign accent and an unappealing exterior, the company is now reacting to challenges to norms of social representation that proscribe the linking of such overt traits with immorality. Con­sequently, recent Disney films do not employ socially stigmatizing cues. However, Disney continues to employ nonstigmatizing cues, such as evil laughter and abiding anger, because these cues foster antipathy in audiences at no sociomoral risk.

This article applies a life history model to advance the evolutionary understanding of poetry that inspired nineteenth-century Swedish National Romanticism. We show that the characters featured in two of Erik Gustaf Geijer’s poems, “The Viking” and “The Yeoman Farmer” (1811), display patterns of time perspective, mating effort, and parental invest­ment that are now recognized as central life history attributes: a fast strategy and a slow strategy, respectively. These patterns were identified by undergraduate participants (N = 427) who read excerpts of the poems that had been stripped of identifying information and mentions of romantic or sexual relationships. Participants read each poem and rated each character on validated scales of the life history dimensions of mating effort and paren­tal investment, relationship interests and attractiveness, characteristics of his developmen­tal environment, and physiological characteristics. Results are consistent with generally accepted associations in life history theory and also inform current theoretical develop­ments and debates. Geijer had an intuitive understanding of life history patterns, which he used to create recognizable characters for his Romantic depiction of Swedish history.

In 1590, after Norway’s most famous witch trial, Anne Pedersdotter was burned alive. Resource scarcity and religious competition transformed an old superstition into a witch craze to which Anne fell victim. Her story became a play in 1908 and a film in 1943. The two adaptations attempt to give Anne’s persecution more modern explanations. In the play Anne Pedersdotter, Anne has psychic powers that make her neighbors think she is a Satanic collaborator. In the film Day of Wrath, Anne embodies humanistic aspirations that would have been delusional in her own era and that are perhaps also poorly adapted to human nature in general. The trial and the two fictional versions of the trial all illustrate how thought patterns that evolved for small groups of foragers can be overstimulated in post-agricultural environments. This article identifies cognitive dispositions that, in periods of crisis, can trigger persecution of outsiders, discusses how those universal mechanisms man­ifest themselves in different cultural contexts, and examines the historically specific beliefs and values that animate the two fictional versions of Anne’s story. The article concludes with reflections on how the evolved cognitive mechanisms that led to beliefs in witchcraft often manifest themselves, in the present, as conspiracy beliefs directed at minorities.

Elsewhere I have argued that particular degrees of imagination and consciousness, a cog­nitive process that I call reflective imagination, distinguish humans from other species and make possible, and underlie, the artistic experience. I take the artistic experience to be the universal and characteristically human capacity to experience oneself or others in a story by means of music, dance, song, pantomime, drawing, pretend play, or spoken or written language. In this paper I reconstruct the developmental path of the reflective imagina­tion via the artistic experience in five stages: infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and senescence, and its plausible evolutionary trajectory from Australopithecines to Homo sapiens. Drawing upon both evolutionary and developmental theory, I conclude that the reflective imagination via the artistic experience has fulfilled, and still fulfills, important functions by activating memory systems, regulating emotional expression, promoting mutuality, training attentional focus, developing motor control, enabling prediction, free­ing from actuality, sourcing identity, complexifying consciousness, and affording behav­ioral adaptation.

Here I review six recent books broadly relevant to the neuroscience of creativity. The books engage these two topics in markedly different proportions and from somewhat different perspectives, but with a consistently high level of quality. All are worth a look. A common thread is a focus on the basic neural mechanisms enabling full-blown creative thought, as well as mental activities like divergent thinking, mind-wandering, and daydreaming. The neuroscience approach to the underbelly of creativity has begun to prove its mettle. However, the details of this fascinating research also reveal trade-offs between lower-level neural mechanisms versus meaningful real-world instances of creativity. Fully developed neuroscientific connections to ‘Big-C’ creativity in complex domains remain scant, though with intimations of synergy and no signs of relenting research activity.

Evolutionary or biocultural theorizing about horror films has been slow to gain traction in film studies, but the field has seen two recent book publications, Mastering Fear by Rikke Schubart and Primal Roots of Horror Cinema by Carrol L. Fry. Unfortunately, neither book is poised to make a substantial impact on evolutionary horror film theory. Mastering Fear ultimately undermines its own engagement with evolutionary social science, and Primal Roots of Horror Cinema stops short of contributing substantially to the field beyond its compelling argument for the relevance of evolutionary social science to film studies. Plenty of work remains to be done at the fertile junction between evolutionary psychology and horror film.