I Stared Into The Abyss And Frozen II Stared Back
I’m a strong believer that writing shouldn’t be static. We all live in the same capitalist hell land, so if writing isn’t our job, why should we force ourselves to do it, or do it in a way we don’t like ? Sometimes writing reviews is what will feel right, sometimes it will be fiction, an essay, an impressively ambitious grocery shopping list, or even nothing at all. And that’s perfectly fine.
Yet talk to any passionate writer and they will mostly likely tell you that they feel a drive to write, like something bigger than themselves is pushing them back to their keyboards and notebooks. Their one true love might be poetry or science-fiction — I’ve come to understand that mine is yelling about movies to whoever will listen. And so, when I decided to take a step back in writing reviews and explore other forms of expression, I knew it wouldn’t be a forever thing. I knew that somewhere was a film that would infuriate me so much that I would have no choice but to come back to the review world and give it the dose of sheer Internet fury it deserves.
That film is Frozen 2.
The plot of the first film was easy enough to follow. Magic girl accidentally freezes entire kingdom into a permanent winter, magic girl’s sister tries to save her, catchy songs and slightly above-average Disney romance are involved, and a lovely family time ensues. Maybe not revolutionary, but pleasant enough to watch once or twice.
At some point while ruminating on my thoughts during the screening of the sequel, I was surprised to realize that Disney was not following a classical three act structure. This would have actually been an interesting choice if only the story had any structure at all. I don’t know what any of this is supposed to say. The Arendelle squad (the sisters, Kristoff, Sven and the biggest piece of snow shit I’ve seen in my entire life) goes to an enchanted forest because Elsa won’t stop hearing the same four notes in the wind, they have to save the forest and Arendelle and then they don’t, and then they do, and then they don’t, and then, woops, sorry, accidentally dropped the last shit I still gave about any of this.
This is possibly the most confusing attempt at building a backstory I have ever seen, at the very least in a children’s movie. I have no doubt that kids can understand the concept of a girl capable of making ice with her hands, but this is something else entirely. There’s an entire mythology here. And since they take absolutely no time to explain any of it, we just have to take what we’re presented with at face value. Also, there’s no reason to care, unless you really like forests and water.
In the most bizarre film moment of my year so far, there seems to be some kind of point about the shameful past of white supremacy over indigenous people and how to make things right in the present. It’s the strangest attempt at making a statement I could have imagined in a movie about trees. It’s also never addressed again.
Since the plot is mostly non-existent and the “message” (imagine me saying that in a sarcastic voice while making airquotes with my fingers for a fully interactive experience) is considerably out of most children’s grasp, Disney had to find other ways to keep their main market’s attention. One of those ways is by inserting a half-serious half-comic relief storyline about Kristoff trying to propose to Anna. It’s pretty useless and not very funny, but at least it isn’t the film’s worst offence. No, that’s something else entirely.
The kids love him. Disney’s marketing team loves him. Facebook grandmas love him.
But man, I don’t know if I can put into words how much I hate Olaf the fucking snowman.
What an absolute joy-stealing goblin. I still haven’t forgiven Disney for making me watch his stupid face for twenty-two whole minutes when I went to see Coco (a much better example of what mainstream animation can be when it actually puts in some effort, by the way). It was agony, and this isn’t much better. Sure, I understand the need to have some fun in all the seriousness of Arendelle, but did it have to come in this form ? An unfunny, unlikeable, deeply annoying excuse of a snowman ? Once the stakes were upped in the plot, I didn’t even know if I wanted him to die or if seeing the characters go through the grief process for a goddamn snow muppet would be even more agonizing to watch.
Please don’t ever let me get close to a snowman again. I don’t know what my reaction will be, but it won’t be pretty.
Now this is the part of the review where I’m supposed to put on my Big Professional Girl Hat and try to find some positive points to show that I’m capable of objective thought. The problem is that… I can’t really find any. I could try to see the film as a musical and talk about the songs — but even putting that word in plural form is a bit of an overstatement considering they all sound exactly the same. It’s like the film’s producers heard the parent’s complaints about the first film’s soundtrack being too catchy and decided the most appropriate response was to make the most unremarkable pieces of music they could think of.
And sure, the cast is good and the film is pleasant enough to look at but these are extremely experienced actors and the biggest animation studio in the world we’re talking about. Hell, considering the amount of money Disney has I have no doubt that it could have looked much better. Cool, they can animate hair and snow, but I’d much rather have a plot. And why is everyone’s head so fucking big ?
I wish I could end this review the same way uninspired fairy tales end. I get married, everyone comes back to life and I somehow manage to sing an inspiring song about the future in this review. Unfortunately the world of the written word is not as forgiving, so I’ll try to conclude in a different, yet concise way.
Save yourself. See literally any other movie. For my sake. For yours too.
Please never talk to me about snow again.
