The Trolls in Frozen Make No Goddamn Sense
Frozen is like a cherry pie. It sounds good in theory, but stops making sense the minute you dig into it. The plot and character motivations, upon closer inspection, ooze and squish out in shapeless directions, the facade of its crust crumbling into disorder. Then, in the very middle, is a goddamn troll, shrugging and smiling their buffoon smiles.
The film was fine. I don’t hate it. But it’s the sort of thing you just want to mindlessly watch while munching on popcorn and surfing Twitter. You just want to enjoy it on a surface level, while pretending the trolls, like Jaar Jaar Binx, aren’t actually there.
Take a few things into consideration, like how for a decade, Arendelle just shut off its gates to, you know, the center of government, and the kingdom continued to somehow operate in the three years no one was monarch and no one except staff was in the castle. Or how Elsa cut off trade with Weaseltown, and, you know, doomed their citizens to poverty. Or how no one’s freaking out over the fact that Elsa can destroy every standing army in the world with a snap of her fingers. Or how no one questions Hans’ whole “we made our wedding vows right before she died” claim, simply assuming that, welp, he’s the new sovereign of Arendelle, because there is zero other people in line for the throne. Clearly.
But the trolls top the list, when it comes to in-universe inconsistencies. They were added in the late stages of the film’s production, and it shows, like the acne on a tween’s face.
For example, when Elsa accidentally hits Ana with magic in the beginning, the the King was like “I know what to do.” Because he knew about trolls and their magic. And, you know, did nothing about it in the preceding seven years.
Grandpabbie troll takes one look at Ana, and thanks to his Troll MD training, knows that the correct procedure is to remove her memory of the magic.
“Why?” the King should’ve asked. “I don’t understand how that makes anything better.”
“Well, if people knew she was basically omnipotent,” Grandpabbie would’ve replied, “they would be spooked into doing something stupid. Which is why I want you to socially and emotionally isolate her, which definitely won’t go wrong.”
“Surely there’s a better way.” the King could’ve said, skeptically. “Can’t you cure her?”
“What, you mean like, tell her the magic is about love? No. Do what I say and scare the shit out of her.”
Years later — during which there are zero follow-up exams — Kristoff takes Ana to the trolls, who, you know, are magical and (allegedly) good with this sort of thing.
“I need help. My sister froze my heart.” she said.
“You should get married.” they said instead. “To this guy. Because you’re female, and he’s male. Now kiss.”
Of course, like any other sick woman forced to wed, Ana does not get better. She faints. At this point, Grandpabbie finally shows up, still not having been sued by Arendelle for malpractice.
“She needs an act of true love.” he says to the young man who is clearly very concerned and emotionally invested in the princess. “And that’s all I’m going to say.”
“I guess I could take her back to the palace.” says Kristoff. “But I could do with some help. Some magic, maybe.”
Grandpabbie shakes his head. “Nah, fuck off.”
I am given to understand that a Frozen 2 is in the works. If so, I hope the first scene will be Elsa and Ana leading an army to occupy troll land and bringing Grandpabbie and his ilk to stand trial for war crimes.