Runtime: 1 hour 49 minutes
Rating: PG
Directors: Lee Unkrich and Adrian Molina
Quick Impressions:
I’ll begin this review with two pieces of advice.
1.) If you get a chance this holiday season, try to watch Coco.
2.) Try not to watch it with my two-year-old son.
That second thing should be pretty easy for most people. I personally can attest to the fact that when I brought my son to the theater with me, not watching the movie became the easiest thing in the world. It was watching the movie that was the tricky part.
This was my son’s first attempt to go to the theater with the rest of us. He’s great at watching movies at home, but he also excels in heedlessly running away in public places. Since he is obsessed with Cars, I had originally planned to take him to Cars 3 after our trip to Disneyland this summer. But spending my first meal in the park chasing after him through the streets of Cars Land while simultaneously attempting to eat macaroni and cheese with a metal fork changed my mind. So we waited a while. But when he went with us last weekend to buy Justice League tickets, he was so enchanted by the theater lobby that I decided his time had come.
And at first he did very well. He kicked back in his reclining seat and looked like a jaded thirty-year-old guy watching football in a pizza commercial. He took to the theater instantly, reacted perfectly to the previews, and really loved his first taste of forbidden popcorn.
(The American Academy of Pediatrics says wait until five, so on the way to the theater, I told my husband, “I think I’ll just get us some Reese’s Pieces or maybe some pretzel bites to share.”
And from his carseat, my son piped up, “I’m gonna get popcorn, candy, and a Coke.” I have no idea how he knew about popular movie theater fare. Maybe from TV? At any rate, I spent the first half of the movie anxiously inspecting individual pieces of popcorn and doling them out to him one at a time. Until now, I never knew popcorn could be so onerous! Finally I had to resort to hiding the bag under my seat and pretending it was all gone!)
But my son actually did really well for a long time. The only problem was, the movie lasted a very long time. And that “very” part was where the trouble came in. Seriously, they showed so many previews, and then the Frozen “short” before the feature was more of a long (a twenty-one minutes long to be exact). My husband noticed that the feature film started at 5:00, and our showtime was 4:15, so if you’re thinking of taking small children, that’s something to keep in mind. This was a particular problem for us because the Frozen short was so appallingly bland and pointless, it was almost painful to watch. (My entire family felt this way, and we all love Frozen.)
Coco is magnificent, though. I went in with fairly low expectations, but my entire family came out sobbing (and most of us not because of the bloody lip we sustained from running away and immediately falling down the stairs in the dark).
I’ll admit I went in extremely skeptical because early previews for the film made me think it was just ripping off The Book of the Dead and Kubo and the Two Strings. But in fact, it was an excellent, emotionally rich, visually vibrant film. (Of course, I can’t swear it’s not ripping off The Book of the Dead because I never got around to seeing that. It’s quite different from Kubo, though.)
The Good:
My family doesn’t celebrate dia de los muertos (though now I wish we did), but we are Catholic, so we do celebrate Halloween, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day. And we do live in Texas, so there’s always lots of exciting dia de los muertos merchandise available in stores which I sometimes buy and re-purpose for Halloween. Honestly this movie has convinced me we need an ofrenda of our own. Coco makes the mystical aspect of Day of the Dead look so magical and beautiful and desirable. It lets you peek into a world of nostalgia and enchantment where all life is fleeting and everything is beautifully sad. And then you sit up a little straighter and exclaim to yourself, “Wait a minute! That’s our world! That’s our real world! The beauty of mortal things lies in their very frailty.” That’s an extremely old idea, presented here in a charmingly colorful package.
Disney and Pixar have been making a conspicuous push recently to focus on stories that aren’t just about a bunch of white kids living out their bland, secular, Americanized Western European (male) traditions. The push for cultural diversity works brilliantly here. At least to me, the material doesn’t feel forced or artificial at all. Dia de los muertos is a real (and cool) holiday that some people actually celebrate. Even non-observers probably have observed their elder family members dying and shed a tear (for their own mortal selves, if nothing else!).
I’ve noticed some general complaining recently about Disney’s not-at-all subtle efforts at inclusivity. And yes, here Pixar is deliberately trying to make a movie with Mexican actors playing Mexican characters telling a story about Mexican traditions to appeal to consumers of Mexican heritage. And yes, Disney likes to get money from as many people as possible.
But Coco is a genuine story with heart and humor, not a forced exercise in inclusivity. Unfortunately skeptical audiences often correctly notice that media purveyors go about creating more “inclusive” material in the most awkward and artificial way possible. (Sometimes this looks like, “Hey we learned random, superficial facts about another culture and found a way to present them badly and line our pockets…because we care.”)
Obviously movie studios are money-grubbing and shameless, and if they can make a quick buck through brazen cultural appropriation, they will. But the reality is that taken together, all the minority groups in our country actually represent the majority. The United States isn’t trying to be diverse as some abstract goal. It already is diverse in reality because that’s just the way it is. Mexican Americans, other Latino Americans, black Americans, gay Americans (and countless other varieties of Americans) are all Americans. Various ethnic and cultural groups already have great ideas and stories that represent their lives and histories and visions. No need to make up contrived, imagined examples, just let more people tell their real stories.
Eventually movie studios are going to start getting this right. In the meantime, Coco feels like a step in the right direction. It’s definitely a pleasure to watch.
I also found it pleasantly weird to watch a Disney/Pixar movie featuring so many crosses on display. The next time someone complains that mainstream children’s entertainment shows all other religions/philosophies/cultures as desirable but won’t tell stories about Christianity–and people complain this a lot–someone can reply, “But what about Coco?” I did notice the film shied away from crucifixes, though, but that’s a safe and understandable choice. Why risk the controversy?
What can I say about Coco? The movie is so beautiful. The visuals are often breathtaking. The animation is wonderful. The colors are vibrant. The characters express themselves so well. That they’re animated seems like an enhancement rather than a limitation. Each scene is a pleasure to behold.
The story is excellent (and strangely evocative of earlier Pixar classics. One scene in particular is a lovely and subtle homage to Wall-E. I’m positive that’s intentional). With an even and effective (and definitely affective) mix of humor, peril, and heartwarming tragedy, Coco is never anything less than delightful to watch.
The music is great, perfect for the story and rather unique as Pixar movie music goes.
The performances, too, are really something special. I particularly loved the voicework of Benjamin Bratt, Alanna Ubach, and Ana Ofelia Murguía. Gael Garcia Bernal is always excellent, and Anthony Gonzales is charming as Miguel.
Best Scene:
Near the end of the movie, there’s a touching duet that made my entire family weep bittersweet tears. My son chose this moment to trick his father (“I’m just going to see Mommy”), dart into the aisle, and fall on his face. The huge thump and immediate tears made me suspect that he had fallen on his face and broken all of his teeth (because this kid can fall off the roof and still pop up immediately saying, “I’m ohtay!”) (That’s hyperbole, by the way. I don’t let my toddler jump off the roof, but if he’s crying, you can bet it hurts.) I tried to ask my daughter if she had seen him land (because she had a better view of the aisle), but she was too engrossed in/gutted by the touching moment on screen even to register the question. Her fourteen-year-old brother was also rubbing tears out of his eyes. I thought, “We have such sweet, sensitive kids.” My parents were touched by the moment, too, but the older kids and I were emotionally destroyed.
I tried to join them in focusing on the powerful ending of the movie (since my baby was already with the person I would have run to hysterically, anyway). Obligingly, Coco did its part to make sure I focused on the screen. The song “Remember Me” (written by the Oscar-winning husband-and-wife duo from Frozen) should be an Oscar contender (like the film itself), and the moment just after the duet somehow manages to be even more moving. We were all rapt and tearful (except my husband who was busily washing the blood out of our son’s mouth before I could see it. Apparently this went well until the very last second, when the injured party recovered enough to surprise his father by grabbing a urinal cake, thus requiring another scrub down. (It was his first time in the mens’ room, too.))
Best Action Sequence:
Mama Imelda’s big production at the end is riveting. It has real dramatic urgency, but her facial expressions and body language make it hilarious, as well. She finds a way to make a moment when she’s supposed to be the victim totally empowering. It’s also a nice moment from a story perspective for obvious but spoilery reasons.
Best Scene Visually:
I loved the scene when Miguel first enters Ernesto de la Cruz’s mansion. What a captivating place! In one instant, we get this overpowering, intoxicating rush of The Great Gatsby, The Great Beauty, old MGM musicals, the queue from Disneyland’s Indiana Jones ride, old Hollywood in general, a little bit of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet, just so many other things, many of them borrowing from even older and more varied sources. Basically you take one look at the place and think, “Well, this is clearly the prettiest part of Hell! I expect awful, awful things to happen in this beautiful room!” I did not begin to guess just how dark the story was about to become, but you really can’t miss the somebody-must-have-sold-his-soul-to-Satan-or-else-is-maybe-crushingly-empty-on-the-inside-or-something vibe. I thought, “Wow! I was to go there! It looks like a beautiful, hideous nightmare!”
Another great thing is that I was actually able to give this scene my full attention because my son had just attempted his first escape, and so my husband had temporarily removed him from the auditorium.
Funniest Scene:
I loved Miguel’s first meeting with Frida Kahlo. Both my daughter and I were struggling not to laugh out loud, and I thought suddenly, “You know, we’re both a lot like this.” I can’t help but wish Selma Hayek had voiced Frida. Natalia Cordova-Buckley does a great job, though.
Best Scene I Didn’t See:
Right after Miguel arrives at his surprise destination, there’s a long and fairly important scene that is probably not meant to be experienced while crawling around under the reclining seats searching for a baby bottle. (My son can drink out of all types of vessels and was, in fact, drinking a blue Icee, but there are still some occasions when he prefers a bottle (like when he is thirsty) (or in this case, sleepy). He was all mellow and lounging on my lap, and then his bottle fell on the floor and rolled some place, and my husband and I spent the next five to ten minutes crawling around looking for it like idiots. At one point, I meant to raise my foot rest to give him more room and accidentally lowered it and almost guillotined him, provoking a baffled and stern look.
Meanwhile, based on what I could hear, the events on screen reminded me a little bit of Beetlejuice. Fortunately, this movie is not hard to follow. I missed tons of plot exposition while I was under the chair, but I still knew what was going on and even guessed a major plot twist (less a guess than a sense of “obviously this is what’s happening.”)
The Negatives:
My son has his own word for infinity. When he wants to refer to the largest number he can imagine, he yells, “2,3,9,2!”
With that in mind, please understand as I tell you that usually shorts before Pixar movies are, at most, five minutes long. That Frozen short before Coco is 2,3,9,2.
I thought it would never end.
And the worst part is, it’s terrible!
At the time, I was so stressed out trying to keep my son from grabbing the bag and choking on all the popcorn that I graciously assumed the short seemed bad to me because of my circumstances.
But no, after the movie every single member of my family from my sixty-five-year-old dad right down to my eight-year-old daughter vocally decreed that the short was awful, too. In fact, most of them disliked it even more than I did. (My daughter, the most positive, was very tactful, saying slowly, “It was…good. I might even give it a 5 out of 10…maybe…”)
Heed my warning. Know that we’re all fans of Frozen, and I’m prone to seeing the good in everything. That short is not good.
With talent like that, how did they not come up with something better? I mean, how about just showing beautifully rendered animated snow falling the whole time while Idina Menzel sings? You can’t go wrong there!
The material is just so thin. And bad.
The beginning beggars belief. Why would the same subjects who are so delirious with excitement to get a peek inside that castle in Frozen completely blow off a personal invitation from the queen to celebrate Christmas with her and the princess? So sorry, your majesty, we’re just so busy with our Christmas tradition of making fruit cake.
Hmm…
I understand what the writers are going for, but the execution does not work. I like the idea of celebrating the diversity of everyone’s traditions, but Sesame Street did that much better forty years ago working with child performers who couldn’t even act! Most of the traditions Olaf learns are so dumb and bizarre. (Really? Your most cherished Christmas tradition is to sit in the sauna and throw your underpants at snowmen? I think you’re confusing cherished tradition with the thing you happen to be doing right now…and all the time.) All the traditions are very random and don’t seem remotely commensurate in terms of symbolic heft.
“Cool. Our Christmas tradition is to celebrate Hanukkah.”
Um….
Okay, obviously the best tradition (and the only one with any degree of gravitas) is Hanukkah. But I wouldn’t call that a Christmas tradition, per say. Let’s be honest. It’s more of a Hanukkah tradition, really, isn’t it?
Seriously I was sort of hoping that Olaf would notice, “Wow! You guys have the only meaningful tradition!” Then he could convert to Judaism (unless he’s already Jewish, for which a good case can be made), and the short would abruptly end with him waving and saying, “Happy Hanukkah, everybody!” Idina Menzel sings as beautiful snow falls. The End. But, unfortunately, that did not happen, and, instead, the short dragged on and on for like twelve more minutes.
I normally try to appreciate things for what they are and get irritated with critics who tell a book or movie what it should have been instead. But I can’t help myself in this case.
Here’s what you should have done, Frozen short. Skip that whole part with Olaf’s door-to-door adventure. Give away the ending immediately. Show Anna singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman,” then cut to Elsa’s side of the door and show how much she wanted to sing back to Anna, how much all of the overtures meant to her, and how she kept all the stuff, and now she’s giving it back as a Christmas gift. This is touching and brief. Idina Menzel sings as beautiful snow falls. The End.
To be fair, I did like the fruitcake joke, but it wasn’t worth twenty-one minutes of torture.
Other than that, though, I have no complaints. The feature film was superb, and we’re all looking forward to Frozen 2 in 2019.
Overall:
Coco is magical and moving. Try to find the time to see it this holiday season. (But if you’re bringing young children, beware. The short before the feature is twenty-one minutes long!)