3.5 stories-of-progress-and-voyage out of 4
In my review for Disney’s 2013 blockbuster-mega-hit Frozen, I gushed over the many liberties the creative team took with the traditional Disney Princess formula. I spoke highly of the film’s self-aware nature, and the knowing winks at older properties written for audiences from a different era. In many ways, Moana continues the subversive trend established by the latest additions to the pantheon of Disney princesses, while pushing the envelope forward to tell a relatively straight-forward Campbellian monomyth distinguished by the simple fact that its central character is a teenage girl.
Moana—directed by Ron Clements and John Musker, written by Jared Bush, and with a story credited to a veritable army of artists—is a film about the eponymous Moana, a teenage girl in the midst of her training to lead her village as its next chief. As a budding young adult, Moana is torn between her personal dreams to explore the ocean, her quasi-Gilbert-and-Sullivan-esque duty to serve her people, and a father so obsessed with tradition that even Tevye the Dairyman would suggest easing up.
Important to recognize, however, is that there is no extemporaneous subplot about a village male undermining Moana’s credibility as a leader or a person.Nor is there a subplot about Moana’s parents forcing marriage upon her. Quite the contrary, continuing the trend of Disney parents simply wanting to maintain their daughter’s safety, Moana’s parents deny her seafaring dreams for the simple reason that the village needs a dedicated chief, and there can be no such leader if Moana sets sail and dies at sea.
Of course, Moana does eventually embark upon an adventure but her journey is largely influenced by her desire to serve her people. Due to supernatural environmental concerns, the reef that supplies Moana’s village with fish is providing little, while the trees that supply the village with coconuts are dying.
In every conceivable way, Moana’s plot is unoriginal and uninspired. After all, the Campbellian monomyth hypothesis exists simply due to the glut of stories about chosen ones saving the world. What makes Moana fascinating—and what is, for me, the first of two reasons to see this movie—is that the film is about a teenage girl, whose gender is refreshingly, entirely unimportant to the story.
Moana’s parents don’t stop her from chasing her dreams because she’s a girl, but because she’s the village chief-in-training.When Moana recruits Maui, the demigod of the wind and sea, he undermines her leadership not because of her gender but because no one in her village knows how to sail, and, by extension, she’s equally landlocked. In Moana, it’s experience, and not surface-level qualities like age or gender that determine an individual’s worth.
The social subtext is there, of course. Make no mistake, one wonders if Moana’s dreams would have been encouraged had she been born male. Further, Maui’s arrogance stems from his status as a demigod, but also due to his fractured masculinity. After all, Maui spends most of the film bemoaning the loss of his oversized fishhook. That fractured masculinity comment isn’t entirely figurative either—Maui’s fishhook eventually literally fractures.
However, Moana is also about a voyaging people grown complacent and comfortable. Once a noble seafaring people, Moana’s village has adopted a sedentary, agrarian lifestyle that has left them incapable of facing the challenges of a changing world. Due to the events of this month and, indeed, this past year, that tradition and old customs constantly prevent a female leader from pursuing her dreams is a uniquely relevant subject.
Earlier, I said that Moana’s character is one of two reasons to see this film. Its artistic values—which is to say, its direction, cinematography, and music—are tied for second place. Disney’s commitment to quality remains intact, and every frame of this film bursts with masterful combinations of colour and light. Most scenes are set at sea, and the interplay between the vibrant sunny hues and the cosmic darkness of the night sky are intoxicating.
There’s a particular scene of note that features a conflict between Moana and Maui, and thousands of coconut-headed demon creatures. The scene plays out as a direct homage to Mad Max: Fury Road, and it is truly stunning.
Moana is most certainly a musical, and I conclude by heaping praise upon the talents of Lin-Manuel Miranda and Oceanic musician Opetaia Foa’i. Miranda’s distinct lyrical and compositional styles combine with Foa’i’s adherence to South Pacific fusion music to bring Moana to life. Together, the two musicians craft a vibrant, adventure-filled, and deeply personal sound.
Further, fans of In the Heights and Hamilton need not fear that a Disney contract has sullied Miranda’s dedication to song and verse. As it turns out, the world is indeed wide enough for both Miranda and Disney.
Photo courtesy of Disney.