Frozen: Elsa's Salvation, Part 3

Finally, my conclusions about Elsa, and probably my last significant post about Frozen. I still want to do a post about the deleted songs, and memes/fandom content. And I'm sure that the movie will be brought up repeatedly in the future, especially when Once Upon a Time season 4 starts. But I think that once I've written this post, I'll have finally expressed what it is about this movie that makes it so meaningful to me. So let's finish this up, shall we?

When last we left Elsa, she had just kicked Anna and company out of her castle. We don't see her again until we have a very brief scene of her pacing around in her immaculately detailed shoes, chastising herself with words like "Get it together... control it... don't feel, don't feel, don't feel!" Of course, none of that helps, just like it never helped during the last decade or so, and just like it hardly ever helps many people who suffer from anxiety or other similiar mental illnesses. I think she realizes this, because at the end of this scene Elsa looks around herself hopelessly, as her once beautiful ice castle cracks and grows thorn-like icicles. 

It was during this scene that I noticed something interesting. When Elsa was a child, her father gave her the instruction to "conceal it, don't feel it; don't let it show," in reference to her curse. During her adulthood, she often repeated her infamous mantra "conceal, don't feel." And now in this scene, she's shortened it to just "don't feel." See what's happening? As time goes on, the phrase becomes less specific. When she first learned it, it was a direct instruction meant to help her control her magic abilites. But in the years that followed, "Conceal, don't feel," became about more than just her cryokenesis; it became more of a way of life, almost a doctrine to her, to be followed in all circumstances. By this scene, she's given up on concealing, and insists on just not feeling. She may have just dropped the "conceal" because there wasn't much to conceal anymore- everyone was all too aware of her powers.  But I think it also may reflect that she's trying to rely on her emotional removal more than ever; almost like if she suppresses her feelings more than she already had, she might finally get a result. 

You'd hope that her "Let it Go" moment, for all its flaws, would have broken, or at least weakened, this cycle for her. I mean, wasn't that moment all about "let the storm rage on," "turn away and slam the door," "the past is in the past," etc.? But the thing is, if her problem was that she was defining her life by her powers, how does "Let it Go" change any of that? Yes, she's now obsessed with the use of her powers instead of her fear of them, but she's still making it seem like her cryokenesis is what controls and defines her entire existence. This scene is further proof that "Let it Go," didn't really address or solve any of her problems, it just shifted them around a bit. Because in this scene, we see that she fell right back into her old repressive habits as soon as she faced the reality of the challenges surrounding her. 

Anyway, before too long, Hans and Company show up. Marshmallow does his job well in his bodyguard duties, but the Duke's assassins still manage to leave the rest behind and go after Elsa directly. In fear, she tries to escape, but ends up cornered in her chandelier room. Finally, she has no option left but to defend herself, which she does instinctually at first, but then much more aggressively. Eventually, she has both of the men trapped (although she only remembered to disarm one of them), but she doesn't stop there- she almost kills both of them, until Hans arrives and implores her to not "be the monster they fear you are," which makes her stop. Hans saves her from another arrow, but cunningly uses that arrow to incapacitate her instead.

Hans, of course, only said what he did to manipulate her. Letting her stay on the offensive may have been very dangerous for Hans if she had turned her anger on him. He couldn't move against her then, so instead, she had to calm her down and get her to trust him to divert suspicion away from him. But he also needed a way to get her in a position that would allow him to get rid of her, but appear blameless for it. Note that when he sees the arrow coming, he looks up at the chandelier; the arrow hitting it was by his design. If the chandelier had killed her, it would seem like an accident, but if it knocked her out, he could take her back and imprison her, putting her in a position of weakness and giving him time to figure out his next move. Either way, he appears righteous for trying to "save" her. That's the impressive thing about Hans- he adapts to any circumstance.

This scene is pretty straightforward, but I like it because we get to see her slip farther down the fear/anger/hate cycle than we do at any other point. She was afraid of people, and she had been since the trolls showed her that vision of people turning against her. All her life, she had kept the blame for that fear directed towards herself, for not being good enough at controlling her powers. When they were revealed, she ran away so she didn't have to face people now that they knew, probably with as much intention to protect them as protect herself. But now, they were coming after her, so that they could hurt her. Why did they have to do that? Why did they want to hurt her? Why couldn't they just leave her alone? These are the kinds of questions I can imagine running through her head during this sequence, and I can see why they would push her over the edge from fear to anger and hate towards these men. Many people say that Hans' words about being a monster weren't accurate, because everything she was doing in this scene was self defense; they were the ones trying to kill her. That is of course true, but she could have incapacitated them just as easily as she could have killed them. There's a difference between self defense and vengeance, and for a few seconds there, I think that the anger in her eyes may very well have been bordering on homicidal.

Now of course, the reason that they were coming after her was that she had trapped them in an eternal winter. A winter which, if it had gotten much worse, would have resulted in the death of dozens, if not hundreds of people. Why was Elsa's life more valuable than theirs, especially since one way or another, it was her fault? So by some arguments, you could say that the Duke's plan was justifiable. Now that was assuming there wasn't another way out, but what reason did they have to think that she would stop it? She hadn't thus far. 

Not that I'm trying to defend the Duke, because I have a hard time imagining that he did what he did out of anything but selfishness. Just to be clear, I do not advocate assassination. I'm just saying that that the Duke and his men had as much reason to fear for their lives as she did. While their solution was a very immoral one, during those moments that she was sending an icicle at one man's throat and pushing the other off a cliff, Elsa's intentions weren't too honorable either. At that moment, the scene was of two parties who both hated the other, and were convinced that the other would be the death of them if they didn't strike first. The circumstantial differences between them doesn't change that reality. In other words, she stooped down to their level; she had a chance to secure the moral high ground, and she just about gave it away. All her life she had walked the line between fear and anger/hate, and now she had stepped over it. It was only for a few seconds, and luckily Hans' (albeit self-serving) advice called her back before it was too late, but it happened. 

I love that dynamic to her. I love it when we can see the dark side to our heroes, even if it was just a glimpse. It makes them more real, and in a way, it makes their struggle all the more noble. The more darkness calls to you, the stronger you have to be to choose good anyway. Given how much darkness there was in Elsa's life, it's impressive that she resisted it as well as she did. But showing her losing that battle in this scene proves that her struggle was real, and the stakes were high. If Elsa had let herself slip further down that path, little by little, she may very well have ended up as villainous as the original Snow Queen, if not more. Then, the people of Arendelle would have been in even more trouble than they already were. 

Disney's official bio for Elsa states, in part, "She fears she's becoming a monster and that no one, not even her sister, can help her." When I first read that, I thought that it didn't reflect the reality of the movie very well; in the movie, everyone else accuses her of being a monster, but she's just afraid. But as I thought about it more, I realized that I can see where they're coming from. Not because she was becoming a monster, but because I can understand that she feared she was. It's another common practice of people with depression/anxiety to figure that for all the mistakes they make, they must be some sort of terrible person. She almost killed her sister, then forced her to grow up alone. She trapped her people in a deadly eternal winter. She was just about to kill two men. And I'm sure that she blamed herself entirely for all of those things, when of course those situations were all very complicated and would have been difficult for anyone. But I don't think she saw that. All she saw was that she was hurting people. 

Now of course, from the outside looking in, we can see that while yeah, she makes some mistakes, in the end she's trying, honestly trying, to be the best person she can be. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone has a dark side, and everyone gives into it at some point. True, lives aren't usually on the line when that happens, but again, this is a movie- it makes the point by showing it in a very dramatic fashion. But the point remains valid. We know Elsa isn't a monster; even if she had ended up killing those men, it could have been argued as self defense, even if there was another way out. It certainly wouldn't have been cold-blooded murder, just a few seconds of letting the heat of the moment cloud her judgment. She never does anything purely evil, she almost always tries to do what's best for others; she's just caught up in some very difficult situations. That doesn't make her a monster. But she won't let herself see that, she won't let herself be understanding and compassionate towards herself, and it's tragic. It also, of course, makes everything worse, because if she thinks she's a monster, she'll never have the confidence and self-mastery she needs to fix her mistakes. 

Anyway, she wakes up in a dungeon back in Arendelle, and sees her winter first hand. Hans, still working on earning her trust, comes to visit her. Now this dialogue is very interesting: 

Elsa: "Why did you bring me here?" 

Hans: "I couldn't just let them kill you." 

Elsa: "But I'm a danger to Arendelle..."

There's a disturbing amount of ambiguity to that exchange. When she says "but," which statement that Hans makes is she protesting against? The unspoken "I brought you you here because..." or, the "I couldn't just let them kill you?" See, when I first heard it, I heard her protesting about him saving her life. The implication being that she thinks he should have let them kill her because of how much of a danger she is. But that's... really dark for a Disney movie. It was only after I turned it over in my head a few times that I realized she was probably saying that she thought he shouldn't have brought her back to Arendelle because of the danger she poses when she's around people. But the worst part is, I'm not 100% convinced of that. Of course, she doesn't really seem to have a death wish, given how hard she fought to protect herself in the last scene, but when I mentioned that to someone they made the observation that there can be a difference between wanting to die and wanting to make it happen yourself. Survival instincts are pretty strong, after all. Unfortunately, this topic will come up again. 

Hans begs her to bring back summer (after all, what's the point of usurping power if the kingdom is nothing but a frozen wasteland?) and Elsa confesses that she can't. She insists that they have to let her go, because by now, she's convinced that nothing good can come from her people around others. That failing, she uses her magic to break the chains (and half her castle) and escapes on her own, just as Hans was arriving to carry out her execution. At this point, I wonder what's going through her head. I mean, it kind of bothers me that she doesn't even try to address the issue of her kingdom freezing to death, but I guess I just have to believe that she honestly does not think it's possible for her to do anything about it. Everything else she has ever tried has gone horribly wrong. Likely, she's convinced that the only way she can do anything right at this point is to just run; get as far away from Arendelle as possible, and hopefully her winter will die out without her there. If not, then at least she can't do any more harm. After all, Elsa's efforts to simply break out of the dungeon had summoned an enormous blizzard. At this point, she's convinced that all she will ever do is make things worse. 

So, we see her running through the winter winds, lost and terrified.  Eventually, Hans shows up, and makes the valid observation that she can't run from this. But from Elsa's perspective, what else would he expect her to do? What else can she do? Of course, her last request was that he take care of Anna. Because even though Elsa has ruined everything else in her life, her last hope is Anna might make it out alright. Which, of course, gives Hans the opening he needs to make his final move. Like the devil, he takes what is technically true, but twists it with lies to break her down. He throws the ultimate failure at her, the fear that had haunted her for almost her entire life- that Anna died because of Elsa. With that, Elsa was completely swallowed by despair. At this point, Elsa believes that she was responsible for destroying everything that had ever mattered to her. Losing her strength, she falls to ice. 

For the next few seconds, she either isn't aware of what's happening around her, or she doesn't care. We don't know for sure, but I wonder; did she hear Hans drawing his sword? After all, Anna heard it from a much farther distance. It's possible that she was too consumed in her own grief to be paying attention, but if she did hear it, it wouldn't be too hard to figure out why he had drawn it. And yet, she does nothing. When I first heard this theory, I was unsure if I agreed with it, but honestly, after more thought, I think she did know what Hans was about to do. And I think that her life just didn't matter to her anymore. Or worse, but also likely: she believed that she deserved it. But of course, regardless of whether she knew it was coming or not, the blade never reached her.

Having heard a familiar voice, she looks up. In a way, I think in that moment when she sees what happened, things became even worse for her. Because she then realized that not only had Anna died because of what Elsa had done to her, she spent her final moments saving Elsa anyway. And she was directly confronted with her death, because Anna was right there, frozen in one moment for eternity. I can almost see how that would cause Elsa even more guilt, if that's even possible. Yes, Anna had saved Elsa from death (a fate that Elsa may have believed she deserved), but that didn't change the fact that Anna was gone, and Elsa still had no way to undo all the pain she had caused to everyone. She was still utterly lost, broken beyond repair. Nothing could save her.

Except a miracle. Which is, of course, what true love is. Anna's death is reversed, and I like to think that the moment that Elsa felt Anna thaw and heard her breath again was the happiest in all her life. In disbelief, she makes the observation that Anna had sacrificed herself for Elsa, which Anna explains with a simple "I love you!" Anna's love had saved them both, and in fact, had saved the whole kingdom. Because of what she did, Elsa could see, could finally see that love is more powerful than anything that might be holding her back, and Elsa in turn uses that understanding to free her kingdom from the winter that was strangling it. 

And the rest is history. With the kingdom saved, Elsa can reclaim her throne, having apparently been forgiven by her people. We get a scene of her cheerfully sharing her powers with her citizens, and promising Anna that they would never close the gates again. She encourages Anna to go skating with her like they did when they were young, and I imagine that Arendelle has a bright and prosperous future, and the sisters live happily ever after. And thus ends our story.

By the way, this is the point where I can see the positive aspects of "Let it Go." I'm glad she kept her Snow Queen persona; now that she could control her powers, there was no reason she shouldn't take happiness from her powers, and share beauty with them. It's all just a matter of balance.

So now that we've reached the end of the movie, we face the question: what is it about this character that makes her so fascinating? Well, for one thing, I just love the way she was developed. She was so human. She was so flawed, so hurt, so vulnerable, and she made so many mistakes. I mean, a lot of Disney heroes have a flaw here and there, but they always seem so... contrived. Not Elsa. All of her pain and faults felt so natural. She struggled with very real challenges that millions face every day: depression, anxiety, self loathing, and an overwhelming sense of fear of the future (I mention those things particularly, because I have struggled with them personally). And so even though she never means to hurt anyone, she still has to make a lot of mistakes, and deal with the consequences of those mistakes, before she learns how to control herself and her life. And that's exactly how people work. We mess up, we give into sin, and we hurt those around us. 

And so in many ways, Elsa's story is a cautionary one. Had Elsa accepted the love of her sister early on, she could have spared everyone around her a lot of trouble, and could have spared herself years of torment. Even though she finally learns her lesson in the end, most of her story is filled with examples of choices that make things even worse. I hope we all learn from this movie that we don't have to make those same mistakes. But on the flip side, her tale is one of hope. Her message is that no matter how terrible things get, or how many mistakes we make, we never fall beyond the reach of love's power to bring us back. Because the other side of the human experience is that with a lot of effort and even more help, we can bring ourselves through change and repentance, coming out that much better on the other side. Elsa reflects that reality so well.

To elaborate on this last point, let me rewind a bit, back to where I said "Anna's love had saved them both." The scene on the Fjord is, of course, the most crucial moment of symbolism in the whole movie. Again, while I don't see Anna herself as a representation our Savior, I find the role of her love and sacrifice in Elsa's life very symbolic of the role of our Savior's love and sacrifice in ours (as the Olaf points out, love and sacrifice go hand in hand). Elsa, because of her sins and mistakes, killed the very person who offered the love key to her Salvation. That person had a way out, but because of her love, she gave her life to save Elsa from death anyway. However, that love proved stronger than the grave itself, and it resurrected the one who held the love that gave Salvation. And we, with our sins, killed our Savior. He had a way out, but he did not take it, because He knew it would would mean the death of all of us, who He loved completely. So He willing gave His life. But His love, of course, broke the bands of death, and gave back life where it had been taken before.

However, something I've always believed is that turning back death was not the most impressive part of what our Savior was able to accomplish with His sacrifice. His sacrifice did something even more impossible, and I believe the same of Anna's sacrifice. Anna's love saved them both from death, obviously, but it saved Elsa from so much more. She saved Elsa from the depths of hopelessness and misery that had swallowed her, a pain I'm almost positive Elsa was convinced she could never be saved from. It goes even farther, of course, undoing emotional damage acquired from a lifetime of fear and isolation. True, they couldn't bring back those years, but they could heal the scars and move forward in familial joy. All of Elsa's failure, all of her mistakes, all of her fears and sins, Anna was able to reverse with a single act of true love, just like all of our mistakes, fears, and sins, our Savior was able to reverse with the most powerful act of love universally possible. That, to me, is a more miraculous result than resurrection itself.

But another thing to remember is that Elsa was only able to be saved by Anna's love because she chose to be. Even after Anna's sacrifice, Elsa could have chosen to remain lost in her fear. Even after personally witnessing the limitless power of love, she could have stuck with her original plan of running away from her pain instead of allowing love to heal it, and letting her fear control her instead of controlling her fear. But finally, finally, she made the right choice in choosing love before anything else. Yes, it was Anna's love that opened the gate to Salvation, but it was Elsa's choice to enter it, and that choice was what made her victorious. Without our Savior, we would have no way out. But even though He gave us the only way out of the darkness that consumes us, it is our responsibility to walk that path with Him. That choice, to follow the way of love, is what will make the difference between victory in our lives, and defeat.

Of course, the analogy is imperfect. Anna is far from perfect, unlike our Savior. No one can ever experience anything that comes close to even resembling the agony that our Savior went through for us. And, of course, this is an animated children's movie, while the Atonement is the most holy moment of all time. But as I said in my first post, I don't see anything wrong with fictional stories reminding us of eternal truths. In fact, I think that sometimes, seeing those truths in something as simple as child's tale can remind us how wonderful they are. And, more importantly, it can remind us that they aren't abstract topics of theological discussion; they're real, and they're personal, and they're something we need to remember every day of our lives. That's why the story of Elsa's Salvation touches me so deeply: because it reminds me that the story of my own Salvation can end just as happily.

Well... I think I'm actually done. That's a weird feeling. I'm not sure if anyone actually made it through all three posts of my thoughts on Elsa's story, but no matter how much you read, thank you for letting me share my feelings with you! Of course, I'd love to hear any thoughts you have in response! Thanks again for stopping by!