Review: Encanto (Jared Bush & Byron Howard, 2021)
***Warning: This review contains spoilers***
Being Colombian is an act of faith. This is how Jorge Luis Borges aptly puts it in his short story ‘Ulrikke,’ published in a 1975 collection. And although I have felt that my identity as a Colombian has always been somewhat unstable or in doubt for a variety of reasons (like growing up in an increasingly globalized world), it was never as affirmed as it was when I went to the cinema to see Disney’s recent computer-animated feature Encanto (Byron Howard & Jared Bush, 2021) in the UK. I thoroughly enjoyed the vibrancy and accuracy of the architecture, the abundance of authentic fauna and flora, the food references (arepas!), the sparks of sociolectal slang, the crisp, detailed quality of the animation, and of course Lin-Manuel Miranda’s music, which attempted (and at times succeeded) to celebrate the wide variety of Colombian musical styles, particularly Salsa.
The imagery built as the backdrop of the film is extremely rich, but what struck me the most was the foundation of the story. As with many other Disney films, the plot is preceded by a prologue that establishes the core of the narrative. In the particular case of Encanto, this first image presents the forced displacement of Alma (Maria Cecilia Botero), Pedro Madrigal (the abuelos, or grandfather), and their triplets, and the subsequent sacrifice of Pedro, which sparks the miracle that gives birth to the magical powers of the Madrigal family. What Encanto achieves is to present Colombian identity as an act of faith, and of magical realism, a literary genre popularised in the 20th century by Latin American authors like Alejo Carpentier and Gabriel Garcia Marquez that used fantasy elements in mundane settings, as a means to negotiate the threat of violence and the tensions of generational trauma in the film.
Fig. 1 - A capibara and a toucan in a promotional image of Encanto.
Through the miracle – presented as an ever burning candle – the Madrigal family and their community regains agency over their land. Both the house, which is magically built and has agency of its own, and the younglings of the family who acquire special abilities, such as being able to cure through magical food or even shapeshift, become the refuge and powerhouse of the community. Their stability is first shaken when Mirabel (Stephanie Beatriz), a third-generation Madrigal, is ‘denied’ any special powers by the miracle. As a consequence of this, Mirabel strives to fit in and ‘be useful’ for her family and her community. During the celebration of cousin Antonio’s (Ravi Cabot-Conyers) new magical ability, in which the whole town takes part, she discovers several cracks in her house. After alerting her abuela (grandmother) and the rest of the family and being shut down, Mirabel discovers that the flame of the candle has been weakening and in the fashion of other Disney heroines, such as Moana or Mulan (funny enough, all their names start with ‘M’) decides to save her family and prove herself, slowly discovering that the cracks are not a product of an external but internal force. The dread of losing their home once again and the pressures of being a strong, perfect family (both a consequence of the generational trauma caused by violence) threatens the Madrigal’s magical gifts and their stability as a unity.
Fig. 2 - Mirabel’s detailed traditional embroidered dress.
The film is incredibly thorough in its depiction of Colombian scenery. The Madrigal’s ‘casita’ and its surrounding town is enclosed by green mountains, coffee plants and palms, resembling the ‘Zona Cafetera’ of the country, a popular place for coffee lovers. The amount of biodiversity is also impressive too, including the toucans and ‘chigüiros´(capibaras) that walk around freely in Antonio’s room (Fig. 1), or the plants that Isabela (Diane Guerrero) describes in her song “What Else Can I Do?”. Additionally, there is a careful presentation of traditional Colombian embroidered attire from the region of Santander (Fig. 2). Perhaps one of the most interesting details of the film is also its depiction of body language gestures that are particular and recognisable in Colombian interactions, like Mirabel gesturing to a gift for Antonio by pointing with her lips (sadly, I could not get a framegrab of this culturally-specific gesture).
It is clear that the magical realism of the film, and the absence of magic in its protagonist, work to reflect on familial expectations, perfectionism, and its part in identity-building at one level. Mirabel’s absence of power is the centrepiece of this theme, while Mirabel’s sisters Luisa (Jessica Darrow) and Isabela both work to further, albeit at times clumsily, think about these issues. The former is extremely strong and feels as if she has to bear every family burden, asking “Who am I if I don’t have what it takes?” in her song “Surface Pressure.” In contrast, Isabela presents herself as the image of the golden child and intends to marry Mariano (Maluma), the town’s hunk, to please her abuela. Nonetheless, the magical realism of Encanto truly shines brighter in the second half of the film, when it more clearly negotiates the issue of ill fates, displacement and violence. For instance, uncle Bruno (John Leguizamo) is the pariah of the family because of his foresight powers, yet he disappears after prophesying the downfall of the Madrigals, confirming Alma’s worst fears – the threat of homelessness and violence. In trying to maintain the miracle’s powers, without recognizing the anxieties that the family suffers thanks to its Matriarch and her traumatic history, the Madrigal family seals their fate and loses their powers, their magical ‘casita’ and partly destroys the community they have built. In a very potent moment of reflection the abuela returns to the river where the miracle begins and opens up to Mirabel expressing the pain and violence she has suffered, which is strongly presented as a flashback (Figs. 3-4). Growing up in a country that has lived and endured for more than a century violence such as the one presented in Encanto, this moment and the miracle become a stinging reminder of the hurt and resilience of the people that have lived it. In the end, the miracle is rebuilt by the whole community, who knows wholeheartedly that strength is not in magic, but in unity.
Fig. 3 - Violence in Alma and Pedro’s town.
Fig. 4 - The town’s forced displacement.
Nonetheless, Encanto’s compelling themes can sometimes feel somewhat muddled by the amount of characters present in the film. Although interesting and rich in terms of character design that portrays cultural and ethnic variety - indeed many Colombian families (such as mine) are formed by mixed and mulato members - the members of the Madrigal family often remain flat and underdeveloped, or Mirabel becomes unintentionally outshone by more interesting counterparts. There also always remains the question of legitimacy in the representation of a diverse national cultures by Disney, which can appear as stereotypical, or exploitative and is always suspicious in the eyes of audiences who question how sincere can this studio be in the depiction of a different culture (as with controversies such as the trademark incident surrounding the production of Coco [Lee Unkrich, 2017]). It was reported by Tracy Brown in the Los Angeles Times that directors Jared Bush and Byron Howard and their team consultants were careful in the research of Colombian traditions and idiosyncrasies. The amount of care and thoroughness in representation appears to indicate a move in the right direction in terms of meaningful cultural depictions. However, it is still worth wondering to what extent is this representation exploited for merchandise and marketing; whether it is able to generate a possible impact or change in the communities it represents; and if certain stories and places are better told by the people involved in them.
Despite its shortcomings, Encanto is clearly a thought-through and rich film, which does its job in using fantasy and magical realism to reflect on both familial values, as well as mediating and thinking through difficult realities and societal issues like forced displacements. Being a Madrigal, like being Colombian, is also an act of faith. The miracle works not because of an external source of magic, but rather the family’s resilience and strengthened identity through its history, its bond and its community.
**Article published: December 17, 2021**
References
Brown, Tracy. 2021. ‘“Encanto” is Disney’s first Latino musical. How the filmmakers got Colombia right’. Los Angeles Times, November 29, 2021. https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/movies/story/2021-11-29/encanto-explained-disney-colombia-consultants.
Biography
Juliana Varela completed her MA in Film Studies at King’s College London. Juliana is interested in the relationship between new viewing practices and animation, as well as the cultural and political potential of adult animation.
