From a marketing standpoint, Zootopia is a great name for a movie. Hearing the name for the first time, you have an image in your head right away. The "zoo" part of the pun makes you imagine a wide variety of animals, and the "utopia" immediately places those animals in a harmonius environment. And that's more or less exactly what the city of Zootopia is.
That's all well and good, except that to most people, the title includes the word for "depressing animal prison." Pretty much anyone who's been to a zoo and is old enough to remember the experience has probably at some point felt bad for the animals inside. Once you stop being angry at that stupid polar bear for sleeping in the corner out of sight, you realize that there's a pretty good reason for that poor creature wanting to hide away from hordes of loud humans and the flashes of their camera phones.
When it comes down to it, the title is an oxymoron. A zoo is in no way a utopia; it's a series of terrarium-like cells housing inmates that can never leave their sad dioramas.
Okay yeah, if you look into the origins of the word, "zoology" is known as the "science of animals." But it's not called "Zoologytonville" -- it's Zootopia. The term "zoo" has a very different definition, which started cropping up in the mid-19th century in reference to, you guessed it, a collection of various species put on display for the entertainment of humans.
There are some positive things to say about zoos (mostly that they can teach kids about their world and inspire them to preserve wildlife), but it's doubtful that any of the characters in Zootopia would see their city's true namesake as anything other than deplorable. To them, our zoos would be like the trophy room The Collector has in Guardians of the Galaxy. And that makes us all bleach-blonde Benicio Del Toros.
Like a lot of heroes in police procedurals, Judy Hopps visits all kinds of strange and interesting places on her quest for the truth. And since Zootopia is a fun Disney movie, that means her hunt for clues can include goofy locales like the The Mystic Spring Oasis, a hippie commune that boasts a Tommy Chong as a totally-not-stoned yak.
Judy is excited to get more information when she makes a startling discovery.
Yep, this yak isn't wearing pants. Neither are the rest of the animals beyond those doors. It's a nudist colony.
It's a delightful subversion of the animated animal tropes we're used to. Since the citizens of Zootopia wear clothes like humans, it only makes sense that that going in the buff would be considered something of a taboo. For us, it's it's extra silly to see animals freaking out about other animals not wearing clothes since that's their natural state to the viewer. There, I've explained and thoroughly ruined the entire joke.
But the thing is, while the scene is still inherently humorous, it doesn't really hold up to scrutiny. Mostly because these "naked" animals have no genitals to speak of.
Throughout the scene, animals are stretching in different poses, to the horror of prudy Judy, who finds it extremely uncomfortable to be look directly at the action. But what's she afraid of looking at? There isn't a single sphincter to be found, or any other orifice for that matter. Everyone's holes are sanded down and smoothed over so as not to offend the audience. With the furrier characters like the yak, you can kind of just assume that the hair is covering up the naughty parts. But that elephant above is spread eagle and seems to have nothing but skin where her orifices should be. It looks like that part from The Matrix where Neo's mouth melted shut, except this time it's the butthole of the earth's largest land mammal. Forget about what predators eat -- how does anyone take a shit in Zootopia?
Look, do I want to see all of these animated animal genitals? Not really. But without them, it doesn't really make sense that Judy is so mortified -- we're seeing what's she's seeing, which is absolutely nothing. At the same time, it's sort of understandable that Disney neglected to make Zootopians anatomically correct. After all, Studio Ghibli's Pom Poko heavily featured the magical stretching scrotums of flying raccoons.
Wait, scratch that. Every animated movie should be like Pom Poko.