essay writing on frozen 2 movie
Answers
Answer:
Little princesses Anna and Elsa listen to a bedtime story from their father, who regales them with legends of an enchanted forest protected by the most powerful of spirits. The supernatural forces are elementals – air, fire, water, and earth – who conduct trivial magic in observance of the harmonies between two nations, bargained by the forest-dwelling People of the Sun and the royal army of Arendell. But when a battle breaks out, the land is swiftly cut off from the outside world, shrouded by an impenetrable mist, forcing the two peoples apart – but not before the kind king is saved by a mysterious voice. Not content with a cliffhanger, Anna and Elsa are further tranquilized by a lullaby from their mother.
In the present day as adults (after the events of “Frozen”), Anna (Kristen Bell) and Elsa (Idina Menzel) contend with the responsibilities of tending to their kingdom. Elsa still doesn’t feel as if she belongs, remaining concerned about her leadership skills, while Anna enjoys the fall weather with Olaf (Josh Gad), who now ponders the qualities of impermanence, the mocking attitude of nature as it transitions between seasons, and the wisdom that comes with aging. And Kristoff (Jonathan Groff) takes cues from his reindeer pal on how best to propose to Anna.
A new, spontaneous adventure is on the horizon when Elsa begins to hear the rhapsodic voice that saved her father, compelling her to visit the enchanted forest and a magic sea, called Ahtohollan, which possesses all the answers … to everything. As luck would have it, the neighborly trolls on the outskirts of the realm tell the Arendellian sisters what to do in order to right some ancient wrongs and solve the mystery of the beckoning voice. Though it might be inherent in fairy tales, the convenient sources of guidance suggest an idleness in storytelling; when characters are explicitly instructed on how to complete quests, the specific events become frivolous.
Olaf once again steals the show, providing substantial comic relief – of the non sequiter kind. Plus, he gets another solo song. And as Elsa is overcome with curiosity and recklessness, Anna stays cautious and rational, each displaying their shifting sentiments with songs that tend to be forgettable despite the swelling gusto that highlights repeated, material words. And Kristoff enjoys the silliest of the musical renditions, crooning a comically unexpected boy-band ballad staged like a music video, complete with overlapping images, background vocals (from imagined reindeer singers), and the moody twangs of an electric guitar. But it’s Menzel who receives the most challenging songs, proving once again that her vocal talents are tremendous – and put to excellent use.
Aside from the musical sequences, “Frozen II” carries on the themes of sisterly love, coping with misplaced guilt, anger at unrequested exclusions from dangerous missions (and the arrogance that comes with unnecessary martyrdom), and the fear of loss. And although the majority of the picture is light and airy, even during action-packed moments, there are some darker scenes that are sure to stir emotions – even if their lasting effects are transitory. The conclusion, in particular, becomes overly sappy, as it faint-heartedly undoes the more serious happenings in the climax, but the movie as a whole is pleasant and enjoyable. It’s also a sharp-looking production, benefitting from animation that has advanced to the point that it only ever stands out when it’s noticeably deficient – and here it’s entirely state-of-the-art and visually arresting. Ultimately, however, if the songs don’t stick in audiences’ heads – like the powerful numbers from the original – “Frozen II” is unlikely to leave much of a mark.
Explanation:
Explanation:
When I settled in next to my 7-year-old last weekend with a mindbendingly expensive bag of movie theater popcorn and our smuggled-in convenience store candy to watch “Frozen II,” I knew to keep an open mind. I’m no Disney die-hard, and I’d read that the highly anticipated animated sequel suffers from a convoluted story line and some haphazardly executed messaging.
Still, my interest had been piqued: A Disney movie that also readily confronts themes of colonialism, climate crisis and toxic masculinity, however messily, was so far beyond the problematic classics I grew up with that I was curious to see how it might hold up.
But none of what I heard about “Frozen II,” which revisits the central characters’ relationship to their deceased parents, prepared me — a motherless daughter and now parent — for the response I had while viewing it.
Early scenes in the movie take us back to Elsa and Anna’s childhood when their parents, Queen Iduna and King Agnarr, are still alive. Yet my knowledge of the king and queen’s impending deaths added a bittersweet tinge to these interactions. When the queen pulled the girls close and sang to them just before bed, I had to steel myself for the loss I knew was comingBack in the present, set three years after the end of the first movie, we find the same audacious, lovable crew living happily and in relative normalcy under Queen Elsa’s rule — there’s even awkward charades during family game night. But Elsa’s peace is illusive. She’s pensive and distracted, in part because she’s being repeatedly called by a mysterious siren song only she can hear. The voice beckons her, but it challenges her as well, forcing Elsa to consider if she truly feels fulfilled within the castle walls.
While the messaging was probably lost on my second grader, I recognized the existential angst Elsa was experiencing as a young adult. Having lost my own mother when I was in elementary school, Elsa’s restlessness felt immediately familiar. Instead of being shaped by a formative mother-daughter relationship in my teens, my identity was informed by its absence. As a result, I attempted to insulate myself from whatever next disaster might be around the corner. Until I developed tools to work through my grief as an adult, I felt permanently uncomfortable, as if nothing good could last.
Elsa’s growing uncertainty about her identity and place in the world might be a convenient plot point to ignite the movie’s action, but it also tells a quieter story for the adult audience following along. As we do the difficult work of coming into ourselves despite our losses and traumas, sometimes our guideposts dim. We have to choose to keep going anyway.
Her journey was a line right to my heart. Haven’t I felt like Elsa, obstinate and reckless as she nearly drowns, forcing her way across the Dark Sea? When the door to where you belong is permanently closed — the lap of your mother singing a bedtime lullaby, perhaps — then no matter where you are, aren’t you always misplaced, searching for home?
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For this reason, the part of the movie I found most compelling occurs when Elsa finally reaches Ahtohallan, the ancient frozen river with answers to the past. As Elsa chases the ethereal voice into an ice cave, desperate to connect at last with the supposed fifth element bridging the human world to the mystical, we find her mother’s face reflected across the walls, singing the private call Elsa has been hearing.
Whether we read this as a brief spiritual interlude happening in real time or a clever use of the movie’s repeated concept that water holds memory (and thus Elsa has found a projection of her mother from the past) seems unimportant. The pained tenderness of Elsa’s expression when she first sees Queen Iduna is what stayed with me — because it felt so earnest and spot on.
Now that I have daughters of my own, I spend a lot of time thinking about what their life might be like were I to die young. Everyone experiences grief uniquely, but it’s not lost on me that in the event of my untimely death, no one close to them would understand their loss better than me, but I wouldn’t be there to shepherd them through it.
This might be why I found Elsa’s hard-won moment of self-discovery so poignant. At the climax of the scene in Ahtohallan’s ice cave (featuring the gorgeous mother-daughter duet “Show Yourself”), Queen Iduna offers Elsa a single line from the folk lullaby of the girls’ childhood. When she hears it, Elsa turns toward her mother’s image, belting out in response, “I am found.” It’s a powerful moment even without considering one’s own loss, but sitting in the dark theater next to my oldest daughter, I was touched by the message of how our connections to the people we love can continue to evolve and strengthen long after they’re gone.
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