|
 For
many in the western world, the very idea of the deceased coming back to
the mortal plane is a terrifying one. However, in Mexico, El Dia de los
Muertos, the return of departed spirits to their loved ones, is cause
for much celebration and family gathering in all dimensions. COCO is
the story of one Mexican family’s bonds of togetherness here and in the
hereafter.
The
Riveras come from a long and honoured line of shoemakers. From the
moment they come into the world, it is taken for granted that the new
member of the clan, means an addition to the Rivera workforce.
Tradition makes for ironclad laws in the hardworking family, and to even
think of bending those rules will subject the offender to the terrifying
scorn of family matriarch, Abuelita Elena. One such tradition is a
complete ban of anything musical in the household or its persons. This
animosity began many years ago when the husband of Mamá Imelda, who
founded the shoe dynasty, abandoned his wife and baby daughter, Coco,
for a career as a musician. Since that time, music is anathema, and
breaking of the ban punishable by a deadly slipper to the skull. It is
with this chankla hanging over his head that young Miguel secrets away
his love of music.
The
boy has happy feet and happy fingers: Miguel’s greatest joy is strumming
the guitar he has hidden away in a cubbyhole, playing along to old VHS
tapes of his long-deceased idol, singing star, Ernesto de la Cruz. The
boy is so good he is actually considering coming out before the whole
town at the annual talent contest at risk of a seriously whooped
backside. Miguel’s secret musical stash isn’t the only thing concealed
in the Rivera household: While preparing for El Dia del los Muertos,
when families erect a shrine – an ofrenda - of photographs of
deceased loved ones, the boy finds a clue to his heritage. A mutilated
photo reveals that the scapegrace scion of the Rivera household,
Miguel’s great-great-grandfather, once played guitar – the same famous
instrument that belonged to Miguel’s idol, de la Cruz. Surely, the
connection is obvious?
Sadly,
the boy’s own secret is also exposed and his grandmother destroys his
precious guitar. Miguel’s anger at the strict, unreasonable family
rule, and his joy at his deduction that he is related to the greatest
mariachi or all time, bolsters his resolve to play at the talent show.
In need of a replacement guitar, Miguel - with the aid of Dante, a
scroungy street dog pal – sneaks into de la Cruz’s mausoleum, with the
intention of borrowing the singer’s famous guitar. Miguel is not
prepared for what happens at the moment he first strums de la Cruz’s
6-string; he’s suddenly transformed into one of the spirits so populous
during El Dia de los Muertos. He is invisible to the living, but the
spirits and reanimated skeletons of the deceased – and Dante - have no
trouble seeing him at all.
Using
this dimensional shift to try to find his famous
great-great-grandfather. Miguel runs into the tight bureaucracy that
rules the world of the dead, including the fact that if one’s image is
not on the ofrenda of their loved ones, that spirit is not allowed to
cross the marigold bridge to enter the living world and spend time in
the presence of their families.
It is
the inconceivable possibility of this happening to the revered Mamá
Imelda, that first alerts Miguel to the fact that his own ancestors are
there in the Land of the Dead, attempting to pass into the living world,
as they have done every year for generations. They recognise Miguel
right away, even the ones who passed long before he was born, because
they have always watched over him and the rest of the family. As warm
as this unexpected reunion is, Miguel must return to the living world
before sunrise, or risk being trapped amongst the spirits as a soul
forever. He also must replace Mamá Imelda’s picture in the family
ofrenda. To do this he needs a blessing from his family member to send
him on his way. However, Mamá Imelda’s condition that Miguel must
promise to never have anything to do with music again, causes the child
to bolt and run right into a spirit who would do anything to get into
the living world, despite having no ofrenda with his photo on it.
A
gangly and disheveled scammer, Hector promises to help the boy find his
other relative, the famous Ernesto del la Cruz, from whom he can also
receive the blessing to go home. Hector encourages Miguel to play his
guitar in a local talent contest where the winner has a chance to meet
de la Cruz. Despite helping Miguel make his way through the Land of the
Dead, the boy runs away again and decides to try meeting de la Cruz on
his own. Miguel lets his guitar talent speak for him and de la Cruz
easily accepts the boy as his blood, but are family connections all that
they seem?
COCO
is a dazzling display of light, colour and music, illuminating a story
as full of heart as it is of laughs. A joyful celebration of Mexican
culture, and the universal love of family. At the heart of the film is
its timeworn tale of following one’s dreams, as Miguel is determined to
do. Another familiar theme is that of the child rebelling against
authority; in Miguel’s case, that means generations of Riveras and their
traditions. There is, of course, after great peril and tribulation,
Miguel’s realisation of what love and family really mean, while holding
on to his own hopes and aspirations.
What
the folks at Pixar have done is to place those tried and true lessons
against a long overdue Latino backdrop that shows the great care taken
in portraying the culture, its people and beliefs as much more than an
animated tourist stop. As fantastical as our adventure is, Miguel’s
living world is grounded in the daily lives and humdrum realities of the
Mexico it portrays. While strict and unbending, the matriarchy of the
Rivera household is a family system rarely seen in films live-action and
otherwise. After being left on her own to support herself and her baby
daughter, Mamá Imelda’s creation of a successful business out of
nothing, and a close-knit, loving family that respects her generations
after she’s gone, is downright heroic.
Another interesting and different aspect to the story is in the
spirituality presented wherein the audience is meant to believe in - and
even connect with - the living after death. There’s also the Dia de los
Muertos aesthetic of colourful ornamented skeletons as the main
characters with whom we are meant to sympathise. (Though, let’s note
this aesthetic, the Mexican location, and many of the themes of
following one’s dreams were approached in 20th Century Fox’s
excellent and stylish {and stylised} THE BOOK OF LIFE.) It
takes a lot of work and personality to make skeletons cuddly or sweet.
Along
with colourful sugar skeletons, there are also the alebrijes;
fantastical, luminous, colourful creatures that are spirit beasts or
familiars to those in the Land of the Dead, which can range from
adorable and magical, or enormous and terrifying. A stunning image of
the Dia de los Muertos celebrations is the lush carpet of orange
marigolds that covers the wide path leading to the land of the living,
while its thickness can drown those unauthorised spirits trying to sneak
in. The bright neons of the environs of spirits comfortable in the
afterlife are in bleak contrast to the muddy outlands of the lonely
souls with no one to remember them. Each end of the otherworldly
spectrum is an extreme compared to the adobe-coloured beaming sunshine
of Miguel’s small town.
Of its
many surprises, the most eye-opening are COCO’s plot twists. More than
once does the tale turn down a road we didn’t see coming, including some
dark alleys that the filmmakers don’t shy away from; giving credit to
their narrative skills, and their trust in the intelligence of the
audience. Besides the aforementioned tale of abandonment; there is
abject betrayal, jealousy, and even murder. It’s stuff you don’t see in
a Pixar movie every day.
How
could a movie about a little boy trying to find his song be complete
without a superb soundtrack of rousing Mariachi tunes and heartfelt
ballads? Unlike life at home, the Land of the Dead is bursting with
song, and it might be a pretty nice place for Miguel to stay if it
wasn’t for that whole “dead” thing. The soundtrack is as vibrant,
bracing and authentic as the film itself. Particularly affecting is de
la Cruz’s signature pop hit, “Remember Me,” that began life as a tender
lullaby to a beloved child.
COCO
is a stunning joy on many levels: Its portrayal and inclusion of Mexican
culture is sensitively and carefully rendered, without seeming
overweening, shallow, or perfunctory (As has occurred in previous
Disney projects). It’s a true immersion that feels real and
grounded in Miguel’s everyday life, even as we enter incredible,
fantastic realms. The visuals and music are spectacular, but what stays
with us about COCO long after those thrills, is the deep and loving
heart of a family, and the strength of a little boy who won’t give up
his dream.
Bravo,
Pixar.
~ The
Lady Miz Diva
Nov.
22nd, 2017
© 2006-2022 The Diva Review.com
|
