play as Lilo or Stitch as they run, jump, and fight their way past
scores of menacing creatures, collect items, and learn the true
meaning of ohana.” In the game, however, Lilo acts in isolation.
She is not cooperating with anyone, nor is she working on behalf
of anyone’s interests besides her own. The game’s message, that
Lilo must learn to ignore the beautiful setting around her, to be will-
ing to use dynamite to thwart her enemies, and that the ultimate
purpose of her journey is to amass points regardless of the cost to
her environment does not jive well with Native Hawaiian values,
not even the watered-down Hollywood version that the Lilo &
Stitch
enterprise purports to honor and promote. Rather, the nar-
rative of the game seems to borrow from the values of cultural theft
and selfish motive that characterize the story of the Lilo & Stitch
empire, as if its authors could not help but reveal their real motives
for economic power and cultural dominance through vapid inter-
pretations of Native Hawaiian values, including cooperation, hon-
oring the land, and commitment to extended and adopted family.
After playing Lilo & Stitch exhaustively to write this piece, for
days afterward I could not shake the uncomfortable feeling that I
was being watched and that my progress (or lack thereof) was
being monitored by some anonymous and judgmental power. I
eventually traced this feeling to the endless tallying and reporting
of numbers that goes on as one plays the game. Each time Lilo col-
lects a flower or destroys an animal or sets off dynamite, numbers
appear in the top portion of the screen. One can see in this obses-
sion with enumerating one’s progress at every turn an American fix-
ation with competition and with measuring consumption; which is,
once again, superimposed upon a setting, culture, and character
that in reality would call such values into question. A capitalist
mode of venture and destroy with anonymous superiors ceaseless-
ly monitoring one’s “progress of destruction” does not fit well with
historical Native Hawaiian resistance to colonization (see Noenoe
Silva’s recent work) or with current resistance to ongoing milita-
rization (such as efforts by the grassroots Hawaii chapters of Not in
Our Name and Refuse and Resist), nor with ongoing struggles for
Native Hawaiian sovereignty (as described by such scholars of
indigenous resistance as Haunani-Kay Trask.
Objects of Misunderstanding and Desire
My argument that this Disney product unreflectively perpetuates
racist and sexist images should not exactly come as a surprise to
my readers, so let me highlight this insidious twist: in the Lilo &
Stitch
game. As I have mentioned earlier, there is the additional
lure of Hawaii as the object of the tourist’s gaze, in which Hawaii
itself is offered up as a target of consumption. In other words, the
selling of Hawaii is linked inextricably with the expressions of sex-
ism and racism in the game that I will detail. Kauai, as it is con-
structed in the computer game Lilo & Stitch, is island beauty
romanticized; there is no urban build-up, no hotels, no poverty, no
ice epidemic—nothing but quaint, rustic, rural beauty. All negative
42
WORKS AND DAYS
effects of colonization have been erased. The objects that Lilo and
Stitch are meant to collect in sequences such as “Kaona Road” and
“Mea Kanu Trail” are standard Hawaii tourist fare—pineapples,
flowers, coffee, etc. The “Surf Shack” sequence is meant to sell
Hawaii’s beach culture, even if the syncopated surfer tunes are
reminiscent of California’s Dick Dale. The lives and struggles of
actual residents of Kauai are absent from the game. The game
designers chose instead to rely upon the iconic image of Hawaii
that has no real referent. In their desire to use Hawaii for their own
economic profit, they recreate a warped version of Hawaii to be
bought and sold on the marketplace. Mainland desire for Hawaii
is often shot through with racist and sexist blindness toward its
actual residents: conjure up here the sensuous hula girl, the rippled
surfer. So too, in this game, there is evidence of such blindness.
The game designers seem to have relied unthinkingly on stereo-
typical notions of the exotic “other,” without giving much thought
to what distinguishes either Native Hawaiian or local Hawaiian
culture (see Fujikane on the difference between the two) from other
Polynesian cultures, or even African culture. Furthest afield is the
voodoo power Lilo can amass by breaking open barrels. There is
no particular reason to associate Hawaiian or Native Hawaiian cul-
ture with voodoo. The effect or impression created is that the
game’s designers threw in any clichéd symbol of exotic non-white
power without considering its appropriateness for Hawaii. In the
“Koa Wood” sequence of the game, Lilo comes across clichéd ver-
sions of tiki god sculptures. This hints at a lack of distinction
among Native Hawaiian current cultural attitudes, ancient religious
traditions, and similar practices in other Polynesian cultures. More
disturbing is rather than have Lilo show the appropriate reverence
for such images, the designers have created a situation in which
she must violently attack the sculptures and destroy them in order
to win points.
The cultural and/or religious significance of the tiki for contem-
porary Hawaiian culture is admittedly tough to pin down.
Undeniably, the tiki has taken on a life of its own, as von Busack
describes:
In the South Pacific, other carvings—from life-size fig-
ures on the Marquesas Islands to the fierce stone gods
of Hawaii and the intricate greenstone charms of the
Maoris of New Zealand—give evidence of art and reli-
gion spanning a trans-Pacific culture….somehow, the
art of these nations, thousands of miles apart, became
slurped into a cultural Mix Master and poured over the
United States for a brief period of cultural history,
roughly 1945-65, known as “tiki,” a word which literal-
ly translated means both “God” and “statue.” On the
islands themselves there is enough sensitivity to the
original religious significance of tiki gods that in 2000
Christian groups in Waianae forced the removal of a tiki
god sculpture from the front of a local public school,
claiming that the image was religious and therefore
inappropriate. (“Return Tiki”)
Desser
43