onsdag 1 december 2021

It's worth talking about Bruno (and the rest of Encanto)

Is it just my imagination, or hasn't there been nearly enough hype about Disney's latest animated film Encanto? I keep waiting for my nerdy YouTube channels to provide reviews and analyses, but only one of them has stepped up so far with a short (if enthusiastic) review. And yet, I thought this film was really good – better than Raya and the Last Dragon, and I liked Raya a great deal. 

There are so many positives when it comes to Encanto. Mirabel, who provides the focus for the film, is Disney's most engaging heroine for quite a while: she's warm, sweet, fun-loving and just flawed enough to be human. I preferred her not only to stoic warrior Raya, but also to, say, Moana, and to both of the Arendelle girls as portrayed in Frozen 2. The animation is stunning, the characters are charming, and the songs (penned by Lin-Manuel Miranda of Hamilton fame) catchy, sometimes extremely so – I've been humming We Don't Talk About Bruno for days. I watched the film on Friday, when it premiered in Sweden, and was, beforehand, disgruntled that I'd booked a matinée, thus dividing up my whole day. Afterwards, I was grinning happily. This is a real mood-lifter of a film.

The story takes place in a remote spot in Colombia (time period uncertain) and revolves around the family Madrigal, three generations of it living under the same roof in a house full of magic. The house (casita) isn't the only magical thing in the village: since the community settled, each new member of the Madrigal family has been given a magical talent or gift which they have then used for the common good under the watchful eye of Alma, or Abuela (Grandmother) as she is called by everyone. Mirabel is the exception: she never got a gift, much to the disappointment of Abuela (who has no magic either, incidentally, though she does watch over the family's magic candle). Although the Madrigal in-laws – Uncle Félix and Agustín, Mirabel's own dad – are also magic-free, Mirabel feels more and more left out. Then one night, she sees cracks appearing all over the family's beloved casita. When she alerts the rest of the family, though, they are gone. But Mirabel remains convinced that the magic is in danger and that she's the one to save it.

I really appreciated the family dynamics in the Madrigal household. I've always resented that Tolstoy quote about all happy families being alike while each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way (though no doubt it's quoted out of context). Besides being patently untrue – how many unhappy families aren't unhappy in exactly the same way? – it makes happy families sound boring. The Madrigal family is happy, in the main: they are close-knit and loving. The cousins are like siblings: shapeshifting scamp Camilo chaffs his female cousins in the same way a brother would, and Mirabel comforts her little cousin Antonio like a big sister would. The family's marriages are a success: moody Aunt Pepa and enthusiastic Félix make a surprisingly well-matched couple, and Mirabel's parents both do their best to bolster their youngest daughter's self-worth. But that doesn't mean that there aren't rifts and room for drama: For instance, Mirabel is especially envious of her sister Isabela, who has the gift of being able to produce beautiful flowers and who likes to flaunt her seemingly perfect life. And yet, having a magic gift may not be all it's cracked up to be. The film has to keep a balance between keeping the Madrigals likeable and yet making us sympathise with Mirabel's frustration. Sometimes it falters: I didn't think it likely the Madrigals would forget to include Mirabel in a family photo – wouldn't her parents notice and protest? – and Mirabel's solo song about wanting a magic gift didn't tell us anything we didn't already know about her state of mind, and comes across as a bit whiny. But for the most part the balance is kept, and you can sort of see where everyone's coming from (though it's hard to sympathise with Abuela at times). 

I promised to talk about Bruno, so I will. He's the black sheep of the family with the power to see into the future, though mostly the bad stuff (Isabela is the only one who claims to have had a completely positive prophecy about her life from Bruno, much to her little sister's irritation). Bruno is a shoo-in for my favourite character by way of being a villain fake-out. After his apparent disappearance years earlier, the family's kept quiet about him, and when Mirabel asks questions about him they paint him in sinister colours. He's designed to look faintly sinister too, yet when Mirabel meets him he turns out to be a shy, well-meaning bloke freaked out by his own gift and still full of affection for his family. It's no spoiler that Bruno isn't the villain: that's made pretty clear by the trailers. I was half expecting there to be a double twist where it turns out that he's villainous after all ("this is why we don't talk about Bruno"), but the film didn't go there, and though it would have been rather neat I liked non-baddie Bruno enough to be relieved. Another favourite of mine is Mirabel's big sister Luisa, whose magic power is super strength, and who's expected to be "the strong one" of the family both mentally and physically in a very big-sisterly way. (As a little sister, I feel a little sheepish when listening to her song Surface Pressure.)

Are we back to Golden Age-standard Disney, then? Well, maybe not quite. They've still not tackled many of the problems I've had with the latest Disney films, like (again!) the lack of a memorable villain, or indeed any villain this time around, and the fear of giving the heroine a love interest. I say fear, because there's something cowardly about the way Disney avoids romantic plots, so their female protagonist won't be perceived as "weak" by an over-censorius public. (We do get a love triangle with the side characters, so that's something.) Also, the story is rickety, in large part because the magic element of it is never explained. I know that this is supposed to be magical realism (a genre with which I'm unfamiliar) where magic is part of everyday life and you don't make a big fuss over it. But there still has to be cause and effect, hasn't there? If the casita had suddenly had normal cracks, there would have been an explanation, so why isn't there one for the magical cracks? If cracks in the house equal cracks in the family, why didn't they appear when poor Bruno was ostracised? Why does the magic grow weaker when Mirabel has had an important heart-felt conversation with one of her family members, but stronger when she has an important heart-felt conversation with another family member? Why wasn't she given a gift? Is she Abuela's future replacement, and in that case, couldn't she at least have been given a room? What does the magic want? I wanna know!

All in all, though, Encanto – like Raya – is a step in the right direction after the slump of Ralph Breaks the Internet and Frozen 2. But if Disney wants to step away from European fairy tales as source material, they need to up their game when it comes to inventing original stories. A colourful setting is not enough.