The animated cast of "Encanto" (Image courtesy Disney Animation)
Disney movies are known for compelling music. I used to dangle from the chestnut tree in our front yard, belting classics like “Colors of the Wind” from Disney’s 1995 film “Pocahontas” and the title song from their 1991 version of “Beauty and the Beast.”
As I’ve aged, these childhood songs have impacted me differently when I hear them, as they likely do for many adults. The swells of the choruses evoke memories; the turns of phrase take on new meanings. The life lessons for adults are evident now, as I watch Disney films with my children.
For instance, “Encanto,” which earned a best animated film Oscar in March, resonates on many levels. In the film, Mirabel, the main character, is part of the magical Madrigal family. Every family member has a special gift — except for her and her grandmother.
My own family enjoyed the vibrant costumes, the beautiful portrayal of Colombian landscapes and culture, and the catchy tunes, but around the third time we watched the movie I found myself noticing how the writers cleverly incorporated characters and events to resonate with an older audience.
Abuela (Mirabel’s grandmother) at first seems harsh and unsympathetic. She is disappointed that Mirabel has no magical gift and grows frustrated with her granddaughter’s mishaps and attempts to fit into the family. My inner child empathized deeply with Mirabel — after all, how many of us know the feeling of disappointing an older loved one or authority figure, seeking their approval and still not finding it?
Later, it is revealed that the stern, exacting Abuela has suffered immense loss and deep trauma, and in that moment, I connected with her character in a way I wouldn’t have as a child. As an adult, I know that “hurting people hurt people,” and Abuela is a rich, complex character whose story moved me to tears.
Another character element I appreciated was the portrayal of Mirabel and her two older sisters, Isabela and Luisa.
Isabella possesses what my 4-year-old calls “Flower Power”: She can create plants and flowers. She and Mirabel don’t get along, another realistic element many of us can connect with. When Mirabel approaches Isabela to repair their relationship, Isabela sings a song called “What Else Can I Do?” in which she realizes (because she allows herself to express anger, which girls and women are often taught to hide) that she is tired of being perfect and fulfilling her family’s expectations. She wonders what she is truly capable of if she sheds the expectations that have been placed on her, loosens up and makes some waves.
When my kids watch her performance, they see fun theatrics and dance moves to mimic. I see myself — an oldest daughter who wants to please others. What I love about Isabela’s story is that she breaks free from these expectations, a lesson I would like my own children to learn.
Mirabel’s sister Luisa has super strength. Luisa appears impenetrable, taking on every responsibility she’s given and demonstrating an unmatched work ethic. Quickly, though, she reveals that “under the surface,” she feels unrelenting pressure and fears that if she makes a mistake, she loses her worth. While I doubt that the adults in Luisa’s life were intentionally subjecting her to demands that were overwhelming, the message here is that sometimes loved ones hurt us without meaning to. Luisa’s story is compelling and uncomfortably relatable.
Perhaps my favorite element of “Encanto” comes at the end with the song “All of You,” during which Mirabel and Abuela reconcile. Mirabel realizes she is “more than just [her] gift.” That’s the message she, the member of her family without a magical gift, needed to hear. But it has a universal message: We are more than our abilities. We are our own miracles, simply for being who we are.
Christine Suders is the mom of two young children.