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!

The Amazing Spider-Man 2: The Brave Choice

Alright, major spoilers for "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" ahead, so if you haven't seen it, go see it! I highly suggest it. But don't read ahead until you do.

So, my sister and I have gone to see a lot of movies together over the last few months. One was "Divergent," (spoilers for that movie ahead too- skip forward two paragraphs to miss them) and there was a moment when the romantic interest had been brainwashed and was forced to fight his love. The protagonist breaks the mind control by forcing him to confront his deepest emotions, and then they save the day and make out (I can't actually remember if they make out, but I'm assuming they did).

But anyway, after the movie, my sister and I (who both liked it, but didn't think it really stood out) were talking about it, and I suggested to her that the brave choice for the writers to make would have been to force her to kill him, the save the day on her own and deal with her pain afterwards. I mean, she already had plenty of pain to deal with- she lost both of her parents and saw a lot of atrocities in the battle that had ensued before this moment. But parents and citizens die all the time, so audiences are used to that. Romantic interests, however, seem to be protected from that kind of thing.

The obvious exception was Batman's girl in "The Dark Knight," but while her death was certainly unexpected, I also didn't care all too much. For a few reasons: while whats-her-face's (Rachel, if I recall correctly) relationship with Bruce was important, it wasn't really central to what the movie was about. Plus that was such a dark movie anyway, there were plenty of other reasons to feel a little shaken as you walked out of the theater. And, frankly, my interest in a character suffers a heavy blow after they change actors on me, and she didn't matter to me too much in the first place.

But none of those things applied to Gwen Stacy. In both the first and second movies of the Spider-Man reboot, Gwen and Peter's on-screen chemistry was probably the best I've seen of any superhero movie couple... like, ever. I didn't really realize that until the second movie, because I was too busy with my conflicted feelings about the reboot during the first movie. More on that later. But anyway, Emma Stone nailed this character, plain and simple. I don't even know how to describe how charming her performance was.

And then we reach the movie's climax. The clock ticks. The web snaps. Her body hits the ground. I mean, the whole build up to that moment was implying her eventual demise. But I wasn't sure that they were really going to go through with it until I saw her head snap against the concrete.

I was basically in a state of shock until the credits rolled. I mean, I'm the one who's always advocating for writers to make the brave choice, but I suppose I was never really prepared for what that would mean for me, the audience, when I saw it. And it was as brilliant as it was heartbreaking. It was the right choice for the movie, no question. The choices Peter made had to have consequences, and it's frustrating and unrealistic when characters in these kinds of stories avoid them. 

It was that moment that really cemented my admiration for this movie, but I enjoyed the whole thing up until that point as well. The main critisism I've heard from people is that there was too much going on; it was all over the place. While I can see where they get that impression, I think that there's a fine line between too much going on in a movie, making it frustrating, and just the right amount going on in a movie, making it really interesting. And I think that they walked that fine line very well. 

I'm going to get back to Gwen at the end of this post, but let me say a bit about the other characters in this movie. 

I really liked Harry's character. He was good in that he was not really evil from the get-go. Which is true of basically every Spider-Man villian we've seen on the big screen, and I like that. Was he flawed? Yes. Angry? Of course. But he had a lot to be angry about. I really liked the rekindled friendship he had with Peter; while it would be interesting to know what their history was, they handled it in such a way that we really didn't need to. And frankly, I was kind of questioning Peter's choice about giving Harry his blood the whole time. Harry was right- he WAS dying anyway. Plus, just because it was a bad idea to do a straight transfusion doesn't mean that the blood couldn't have been studied, analyzed, and used to maybe solve the mystery of cross-species genetics, which could have saved Harry. Peter meant well, but he may have made the wrong judgement. 

Not that that excuses what Harry ended up doing. Yes, he had been severly wronged by his father, Oscorp, and maybe even Spider-Man. It was easy to fall into a mindset of survival and vengence. But the brave choice for Harry would have been to forgive and move on with his life, and refusing to do that is what made him a villian in the end (and they really nailed his Green Goblin image, by the way).

I was a big fan of how Two-Face came in to play at the end of the Dark Knight, even though the Joker was obviously the main villian for the movie. It was especially effective because I didn't know it was coming, given that I'm not a comic book junkie. While I did know that Harry would be connected to the Green Goblin, I didn't know how or when they would make that happen, and I really liked the timing. They beat Electro, we thought the day was saved, things were calming down... and then that brilliantly awful, maniacal laugh descends from the sky. Their battle was short lived, but it was also intense, and it did its job- namely, it killed Gwen. And, the movie left us secure in the knowledge that we had only seen the beginning of the Green Goblin. 

Now, when I first saw a hooded man shooting electricity at Spider-Man in the previews, I thought that they were bringing in Doctor Doom, and I was still thinking that through the movie until he actually said "I'm Electro." But Electro works too, I guess. I dunno, I just feel so bad for Max. Again, turning to evil was an inexusable choice no matter how cruel the world was to him, but I feel like he had things much worse off than even Harry did. At least Harry, for all his pain, was filthy rich, and had a friend in Peter. Max had nothing but a random citizen encounter with Spider-Man. I really wish things could have worked out for him.

Honestly, I have a hard time believing that the innocent Max Dillon we saw at the beginning of the movie and the villian Electro we saw by the end of it are the same character; the character arc felt a little too unrealistic (I had similar feelings with Doctor Conners before him). Unless I just say to myself that his transformation itself messed with his head. And honestly, I'm okay with using that as an excuse; it is sci-fi, after all. If I think about it like that, then I can say that Max Dillon himself died in the workplace accident, and Electro was just born with his memories. That doesn't make his story any less sad though: In that interpretation, he was a genius who was never noticed by anyone, who never got credit for his brilliant work, who died in a workplace accident because he was the only one who had to stay in the building when everyone else got the day off... all on his birthday. And there wasn't even anyone to miss him. I'm making myself all depressed just writing about it. It's one of those times when I commend the writers for telling a brutally realistic story, but kind of wish there was a way we could sneak something uplifting in there too. 

Anyway, I guess that Electro's turn to evil in Times Square kind of has a twisted logic to it, if you assume that he couldn't really think clearly. He had always just wanted to be seen, be important. For a brief moment, until Spider-Man stole the limelight away, he had achieved that goal by causing terror. So, a logical response would be a) that Spider-Man was the adversary to his goal, and b) causing more terror would make him recognizable and important again. Of course, that whole thought process is way overly simplistic, and it throws any kind of morality or empathy out the window. But given the life he had led before this, it's almost surprising it took him this long to decide that this world didn't care about morality or empathy. 

By the time they had him locked him away and painfully experimented upon, his villianous persona was set. They had proven every bad thing he had ever suspected about humanity, and he wanted to get even for it. When Harry came by and made him a deal which allowed him to be important to someone and take what was rightfully his, why pass it up? And at least Harry kept up his side of the evil bargain- as soon as he helped Harry stormed Oscorp, Harry stood aside and let him take over his grid (although, if all he needed was an outlet in the floor, why did it matter that they take Oscorp first? That part didn't make too much sense to me... but I'll let it slide). With the egotistical storm that had been brewing in him so far, the grand plan to become god over the people of New York by controlling their power didn't come as much of a shock. So, we get a pretty classic resolution to that story when Spider-Man saves the day with the help of Gwen (who was important because she knew how to reset the power grid, because evidently it takes someone with a lot of experiance to turn a key and press a big red button labeled "MANUAL POWER GRID RESET"). Still, I wish that they could have found some solution besides blowing the guy up. Electro might have deserved that, but Max didn't. I wish they could have saved him somehow, or at least given him some kind of redeeming death like Doctor Octavius got in the original Spider-Man 2. Sad stuff. But, hey, the movie needed a villian. No use crying about it, I suppose.

Probably the least interesting part of the movie for me was Peter's parent hunt. I mean, I know all of the reasons why they had to do it; it was a way to create continuity between the movies, like how the opening sequence from this movie took place immediately after the opening sequence from the last move. And it was a loose end from that movie-
Peter's search got him as far as Doctor Conners and the spiders, but then Peter had more pressing matters to attend to. He never actually got his resolution, and it would be incongruous to Peter's character to say that he wouldn't get back to the hunt when he got a chance. Which leads into the next point, that it was an important part of Peter's character development. All his life, he had struggled with the pain of just not knowing why his parents left him, which made him unsure of himself in turn. Finding out the truth helped him find peace with himself (although that peace was depressingly temporary, because it shattered again the moment Gwen died). The plane scene also told us how (and more importantly, that) Peter's parents died, and that died because of their devotion to their conscience. And, finally, we learned why the spider venom worked for Peter, but not Harry. 

So, yeah, those are all fine and good reasons for having that plot line, and I guess that it didn't really need to be anything else. But I felt like those things could have been accomplished just as well with a lot less screen time. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but the long Airplane sequence at the beginning was just about the parents uploading their last confession to Roosevelt station. But because of how dramatic that scene was, the whole movie I was wondering what incredibly important information piece of coding or experimental data or formula was in that upload. Whatever it was, I was hoping it was something that would become crucial at the movie's climax, something that Peter would use to save the day- something that Peter could act on, something that really ties it back into the rest of the plot. When it was just a video diary, I have to admit I was disappointed. I mean, the secret about Dr. Parker's DNA being the key to unlocking the spider's potential kind of connected it back to Harry's plot line, but only for the audience; Peter himself didn't do anything with that information. I wish they either would have made the Roosevelt upload more important, or made the story behind it less dramatic and, more importantly, shorter.

Anyway, this brings us back to Gwen. Their relationship was, as I mentioned before, one of the best parts of the whole movie. Of course, just watching the scenes of them together was rewarding enough just because of how fantastic of a couple they made. From the broom closet scene, to the "just friends" scene, and even just Gwen's face when webbed her to the cop car; every time I saw them together on screen, it made me love their characters more and more. But, if that's all I thought about when watching movies, this blog would be about nothing but romantic comedies. Allow me to do what I do and Overanalyze their character interaction. During the whole movie, Peter had to figure out how to reconcile his desire to be with Gwen with his desire to protect her (remind you of anyone?) But what should he have done? It raises some interesting moral questions, none of which I can decide on a clear answer for. I mean, Peter basically had three choices: Be with Gwen, be Spider-Man, or try to do both. But out of those three, which was morally sound? I think the point her father was trying to make with his dying request was that the third one wasn't entirely so, for the very reason that we saw in this movie. Staying near Gwen put her in avoidable mortal peril, plain and simple. I really like how her father's image haunted him for that. 

But could he really abandon Spider-Man, and just live a normal life with Gwen? I certainly think that that would have brought the most happiness for both of them. But, "with great power comes great responsibility" is kind of the theme behind the whole Spider-Man franchise, even if they were careful to avoid that exact phrase in this iteration. I mean, by one argument, giving up Spider-Man would mean costing others their lives for his happiness. But the same could be argued of anyone who spent $10+ to go see this movie, or spent hundreds of dollars on whatever device they're reading the blog post on, instead of donating that money to starving children in Africa. The idea that if you have the ability to stop something bad from happening to someone else you have a responsibility to do so makes perfect moral sense, but in application, it can be pushed to some seriously uncomfortable extremes. All of this is to say that honestly, I think that choosing not to be a vigilante in order to pursue a normal life could be considered as blameless a decision for Peter as living a comfortable life would be for any of us. If he couldn't live with himself that way, then fine, be Spider-Man, but he needed to that understanding that that choice requires  some serious sacrifices.

He did put forth an honest effort, no doubt; just not enough effort. They were broken up for the first half of the movie, and it was implied that it wasn't the first time he tried to distance himself from her. But then she calls, and they try the "just friends" thing, which of course never works (and I think they both knew that). Then they had that whole part about her moving to Oxford, which would have been the perfect opportunity for him to cut things off with her and keep her safe. But he decided to follow her. And under any other circumstance I would be cheering for him, because it was an instance of him putting her needs and wants first while still pursuing her, which is a lesson a lot of men could learn from . But in this case, he wasn't really doing that, because he was still planning on bringing his dangerous life as Spider-Man with him to London, and keeping that life around meant that Gwen wouldn't even survive the night.

Now, I know what many of you are saying right now. "Peter tried to keep her out of danger, and was Gwen who decided to get involved in the battle against Electro. It was her choice!" Which is true, no question. So, we can just say her death is her own stupid fault, brush off our hands, and walk away, right? Of course not: her death was a horrible tragedy, and while she could have prevented it by not stealing a car and following Peter, Peter could have also prevented it by letting her just stay in her Taxi in the first place. Keep in mind that she didn't die in the battle with Electro, she died because the Goblin used her as weapon against Spider-Man, which would have happened somewhere, somehow, no matter how careful they were. It was only a matter of time.

In fact, Marc Webb has given some fascinating interviews where he talks about how the symbolism behind the moment of her death:

“'Ultimately, it’s not the Goblin that kills Gwen. They’re fighting in the cogs, in the machinery of the clock tower, and Spider-Man puts his foot in between the cogs and literally tries to stop time. That’s what causes her death—his inability, despite his enormous efforts, to stop time... [The movie] is about time and about valuing the time you have with the one you love,' he says. He points out that the very first shot of the film is a ticking clock, and that its first line is Richard Parker saying, 'I wish I had more time.' [Webb says, 'Gwen's death in the comics] stayed with me in a profound way. It broke me. I was anxious and curious to explore it on the screen. From the very beginning I planned on doing it. For me, everything in the movie was built around that moment. There’s a cost to being a hero... I’m utterly aware of the consequences for us. Emma is beloved, and that relationship is the heart of these movies. But that’s also why we couldn’t shy away from that. It has to have impact. It has to shock you. It has to be devastating. Anything else would be undermining the truth of it... It’s going to be really difficult for Peter Parker to move forward, but that’s the challenge of it: How do you recover from that? That’s going to play out in the next movie.'"

I love that last bit, because he says much better than I could why the movie was so successful. They didn't undermine the truth of the it, and they did have an impact, it was a brilliant piece of storytelling. There's a cost to being a hero, and Peter had to pay that no matter what. He had a chance to pay it by choosing to let her go, and then at least she could have lived. But when he refused to do that, fate took matters into its own hands. 

I admit, I didn't catch the symbolism of the ticking clock while watching the movie, but as soon as I read that article, it made perfect sense. Peter thought he was strong enough that, no matter what, he could protect Gwen. But there are things that no man is strong enough to stop. Time, and sacrifice, are such things. Despite his best possible efforts, Peter payed dearly for his hubris. And now, Peter and us as an audience have to say goodbye to Gwen forever. 

Or do we?

Okay, wait, don't start throwing things at me yet. I realize that basically every time these movies try to bring someone back from the dead, it feels like a cheap cop-out, and is in fact the exact opposite of what I just said I love about the movie: forcing Peter to pay the cost of his choices. But, I'm sorry, I just don't want to let Gwen's character go yet. They did her so well, and knowing that the series will have to move on without her is a heartbreaking idea to me. And I honestly feel like there's a very interesting story that could be explored if someone did, say, create a clone of her. First, as the above picture illustrates, there is precedence in the franchise. And the science of creating a clone is hardly a more ridiculous concept than the other science we've seen in this film series so far. It is a sci-fi, after all.

And her dynamic with Peter could be fascinating. Because of course, she wouldn't be the Gwen he fell in love with, she would be someone new. The way I'm imagining it, she wouldn't have Gwen's memories, she would effectively be someone with no past at all. So the clone would have all of Gwen's genetics, but none of the life experiences Gwen had to make her the person she was by the time we met her. So we get to see some interesting interpretations of nature vs. nurture. Of course, the plot of the movie would force them to interact, and so we would get to see Peter's reaction to being with someone who has Gwen's face, Gwen's voice, likely Gwen's mannerisms, but it just isn't her. Almost like seeing her ghost right in front of him. And, of course, she has no idea who he is. So of course, Peter wants Gwen back, but could he really pursue something with this new person who simultaneously is and isn't her? If he tried, would it feel like betraying the real Gwen, his Gwen? Would this new person even be interested in him? How could it possibly work? I see so much potential in exploring these problems and these questions, and while the original Gwen may be gone forever and Peter will never be able to escape that pain, we as an audience still get Emma Stone's interaction with Andrew Garfield, and that's what we all love about these movies anyway, right? It would be incredibly tricky, but I think a plot based around a clone or some other new form of Gwen could be done really well, and then we get the best of both worlds.

But as much as I want it, I realize that it's incredibly unlikely that that is Marc Webb's plan. I figure from here, either Peter stays single, or (and this seems to be the predominant theory) they bring in Mary Jane Watson. I'm not really sure how I feel about the latter, because I feel like no matter who they bring in or how they craft the relationship, nothing will match up with what we had between Peter and Gwen. But maybe I'm not giving them enough credit. Maybe they could create a Mary Jane that could rival Gwen, or at least one who is satisfying enough to carry on my admiration for this film series (or, Emma Stone could just dye her hair again and we all pretend to not notice it's her). I can't imagine how, but the past two movies have given me a lot of faith in Marc Webb, (even though I've only ever seen these two films by him, and I didn't even know his name until after this one came out) so I'm trying to stay optimistic. But honestly, I think if they did make Peter single for the next movie, I'd be okay with that too. Honestly, I can't remember the last superhero movie where they tried just not having a romantic interest at all, so I think it would be interesting to see if they could pull it off. 

But anyway, my last thoughts I want to be about the reboot itself. When I first heard they were doing a new Spider-Man, I wasn't too thrilled about the prospect. It just felt too soon, even though, of course, it has been a decade since the last one. Likely, I was uneasy about it just because it was the first reboot I personally witnessed- Spider-Man was the first Superhero movie I personally saw, and it was one of the first Superhero movies of this Millennium, arguably beginning the modern age of Superhero movies that is still going strong today. So the whole time I watched The Amazing Spider-Man, I was forcing myself to compare them; look at every choice, every change, and think to myself "is that better or worse?" As I mentioned before, this kind of hindered me from sitting back and really just enjoying the show for what it was. The whole time, I knew that I shouldn't be judging this version against the last one; I should just let each one be it's own story, and that doing that would allow me to enjoy them both much more. 

But I was never really able to do that until I saw this movie. Part of it is that the first films in both of the series had tell basically the same story in different ways: how Peter Parker became Spider-Man. But after the end of the first movie, with this new version of the character named Peter Parker/Spider-Man created, the team behind The Amazing Spider-Man 2 were now free to do a completely new story, and make the characters face original and unique challenges, developing them in new ways. So it was only after I saw this movie that I was finally able to separate the two film series' in my mind, and allow this new one to be it's own story, not just another reboot. Doing that allowed me to appreciate the first movie a lot more, and really look forward to what they do with the future of this film series. 

Well anyway, those are my thoughts on this film, and the possibilities it creates for the next one. I'd love to hear what you think about it!

Frozen: Elsa's Salvation, Part 2

Welcome back! In this post, I'll focus mostly on my impressions of "Let it Go" and "For the First Time in Forever (Reprise)." I view the topics of the last post as the show's prologue, explaining why Elsa and Anna are where they are when our story really begins, on the day of Elsa's coronation. Elsa has her powers, and is living in a perpetual state of fear and depression, constantly burdened with her responsibilities. Anna has felt shut out and lonely her whole life, and is desperate to feel some kind of love. Their relationship is all but non existent. 

We begin with "For the First Time in Forever," and without trying to point too many fingers at Anna, when does she once think about her sister? After all, it is one of the biggest days of her sister's life, but all she thinks (or at least sings) about is how excited she is for her chance to make things better for her. I mean, I can't really blame her for being the cheerful and hopeful person she is, but while she's dreaming of parties and attractive men, her sister is going through a private hell, on a day when most princesses would be ecstatic.  We do get a nice moment at the ball when Elsa and Anna get to have a real conversation for once. Elsa even plays a joke on Anna by volunteering her for a dance with Weselton. But of course, as soon as the possibility of a relationship beyond social niceties comes up, Elsa defaults back to her isolationist mode and walks away. Anna then gets seduced by one of the worst men to ever waltz across a Disney movie screen, Elsa tries to knock some perspective into her hopelessly deluded sister, they get in a fight, Elsa tries to retreat, Anna pushes a bit too hard, and then giant icicles of death happen. The Duke and many of her citizens, just like the trolls prophesied, immediately turn on her, and Elsa, in a completely natural and human response, runs away. 

And now, finally, my thoughts on "Let it Go." 

Now, I've been very conflicted about "Let it Go" since I first saw the movie. The problem is, Disney marketed it as the main song for the movie, complete with a single version cover and everything. And that's not surprising, given that, musicality-wise, it's a phenomenal song. If you're advertising a musical, you should put your best foot forward, and that Oscar was not undeserved. The issue with that is that because they made it the flagship song for the movie, people think that its message is the one the movie is trying to convey. But really, this moment for Elsa comes well before her character reaches it's resolution. I'm not saying that it's not an important development for her, and I'm not even saying that it doesn't have any positive aspects to it. But it's definitely not the solution she thinks it is. 

To start, let's take a look at what she's letting go of. Most obviously, the self-restraint and fear of her powers, and everything that came with them. And I can hardly blame her for that; She has this amazing ability, something that makes her unique, powerful and happy. But she's always forced herself to hide it, to be afraid of it, to feel guilty about it. She begins her song singing about all the rules that dominated her life before, all focused on keeping her powers hidden. Once she accidentally revealed her powers, those rules that had so defined basically her entire existence were broken, leaving her suddenly in a place I don't think she had ever even considered before. A place where there are no rules, and with no rules, no direction. A place born out of failure and isolation, but also a place where there's no need to control her powers, or hate herself for using them. She suddenly realizes that because of this failure, she can completely recreate her life and her self. She had never been able to do anything for herself before- not even create her own identity. With this new opportunity, she was able to choose her own path through life. She chose to transform from the proper, reserved Elsa into the powerful, passionate Snow Queen. And I won't hesitate to admit that the results are pretty stunning.

So far, so good, right? Letting go of fears, turning failure into opportunity, developing your abilities, creating your own identity; these are all good things, and I'm not trying to argue otherwise. But she's letting go of more than just her fears and cryokinetic self-restraint; she's letting go of everything. She sings decisively, "I'm never going back, the past is in the past!" And it's that attitude that I think is incredibly thoughtless of her. Because "back" on the other side of the mountain her kingdom and her family still needed her, and not just because she buried them in snow. Now, it was Elsa who was quick to forget her sister when things were looking up for her. And her parents died trusting that she would watch over and protect their kingdom as queen. "Unto whom much is given, much is required:" Elsa had been given incredible gifts, so she had a great responsibility to her family and people. 

It quite bothered me when she threw away her crown. Because it wasn't really "her" crown to throw away. It was the crown of Arendelle, and it deserved more respect. She could have at least returned it to someone in the kingdom- perhaps Anna herself.

But when she sings "No right, no wrong, no rules for me. I'm free!" she seems to think that she can live a life of amorality, where nothing she does matters, so she can do whatever she wants. But I firmly believe that right and wrong are things you can never be "free" from; inevitably, the consequences of your actions, good or bad, will manifest themselves. And Elsa is soon going to discover that just trying to let go of her responsibilities and morality will just make everything worse. If Elsa was unhappy being too cooped up, too controlled, too obsessed with being "that perfect girl" before, then I think she went too far on the other side of the scale, by not even trying to be the person the world needed her to be anymore. She went from not doing anything for herself to doing things only for herself, when really, happiness can only be found in between, by finding peace with yourself but still focusing on the good you can do for others. 

Another thing I've heard people say is that only once she stopped trying to control her power was she able to actually control her power, but honestly, I don't think that what she did during "Let it Go" counts as control over her powers. Sure, she could direct them just fine, making her stairs and castle and dress and all of that good stuff, but I think real control means being able to use them or not use them at will, and she still can never dissolve or remove her power until the denouement of the movie. In fact, after she "lets it go," her negative emotions begin to elicit just as powerful magic reactions as her positive ones, as seen by the way her castle changes, and the fact that she repeatedly created giant blizzards.

Now all that said, I'm not trying to be too hard on Elsa, because this was an important moment for her. Of course she wasn't happy in the life she had before. Of course all the burdens she had were unfair and way too much for one person to handle alone. Of course she needed a way out of the tortured life she’d been living. She had built up so much pain over the years, and when an opportunity arose to leave that pain behind, I can’t blame her for rushing into that perceived release. The only problem was that pain isn’t something you can just run away from; if you try, it will inevitably follow you, just like it did for Elsa. The only way to conquer pain is to heal it with love. 

Really, "Let it Go" summarizes quite well how complicated Elsa's character is. I know that in her heart, she wants to do the right thing. But she also wants to finally experience what it's like to not live in a constant state of fear. In her mind, running away is the right thing both for her and everyone else, because then she's positive that she can't hurt anyone and she gets to have her own life. She says as much when Anna comes to find her. If you you look at it from her perspective, of course she had reason to be happy about this change. So as much as I'm sometimes tempted to, I can never really fault her for having this moment, even though I think that many of the choices she made at this point were very misguided and led to more pain, for both her and Anna. Granted, it's true that she can never go back to the way things were; her life was changed completely the moment she summoned those icicles. But when something in your life goes wrong, even something that big, you don't just "let go" of your entire life, run away from everyone who cares about you, and try and start a new one. Everyone experiences major set backs in life, and I guarantee that at some point or another, things will veer far of off the path that you had intended. But that's what life's about, forging a new path, finding a way to move forward anyway, without giving up on everything you've worked towards and everyone who depends on you. The moments when you mess up are the moments that your responsibility to others becomes more important than ever. Inevitably, things will catch up to you if you just try to escape from them. Magic allows the filmmakers to show this in a dramatic and blunt way with the eternal winter that Elsa creates as she escapes.

This is official artwork, so why is Anna carrying a torch? Anna doesn't have a torch in the movie. Oh well, I still really like it.

So, as I'm sure she would have with or without the storm, Anna comes to find Elsa. I liked that, if nothing else, there was no anger between them. Anna offers her compliments and apologies, and Elsa thanks her and lets Anna know that she doesn't need be sorry. But, Elsa also insists that Anna shouldn't be there, she should be in Arendelle. Anna replies that Arendelle is also where Elsa belongs, to which Elsa replies "No, Anna... I belong here, alone, where I can be who I am... without hurting anybody."  Here, I see her making another heartbreaking mistake; while I'm all for her exploring her potential and creating her own identity, there's never such a thing as an accurate self-image which is incompatible with family and love. I'm inclined to agree with Anna: no one really wants to be alone. I mean, I'm not saying there's no such thing as introversion, or that it's bad; I have no problem with people who are not quick to open themselves up to others. But in the end, I believe that we are created to exist in families- it's just how we're made. It's part of our souls. Whether that be the families we're born into, the families we find in close-knit friendships, or the families we create through marriage, I believe that family is an inseparable part of who we are. And it's so sad to me that Elsa thinks that it can't, or shouldn't, be that way for her. 

Olaf then makes his timely interruption, and they both think back to good days, when they were both close and happy. But the image of the accident flashes through Elsa's mind, which was a clear sign to Elsa that they can never be close again. See, I'm not doubting that Elsa truly loves Anna, or even that what she does she's doing for Anna. This is an act of love for her, because if you think about it, she wants things to be like they were just as much as Anna does, so isn't she sacrificing her wants for her sister's safety? From Elsa's point of view, this is the only way she can love her sister, and she's acting according to that. It's just that she's totally wrong. When we aren't the person those we love need us to be, the answer isn't to just leave them, it's to become that person. Which is a much more difficult and frightening prospect. And to Elsa, it's an impossible one, because she doesn't believe that anything can conquer her dangerous flaws. She always put more stock in the fear of her powers than she did in the love and trust of her sister. But if she had done it the other way around, she could have had everything all along. Love needs to be accompanied by Faith and Hope for it to work properly. Elsa had plenty of love, but no faith in either of them or hope for a better future, and therefor she just makes everything worse.

So, Elsa walks away from Anna, yet again. But, yet again, Anna pursues her, and we get to "For the First Time in Forever (Reprise)," which is one of the songs that has grown on me the most over time, and not just because I always love a good antagonistic duet. I think anyone who listens to "Let it Go" should listen to this song as well before they make any judgements on what the message this story is trying to send is, because this moment shows the consequences of Elsa's choices. Anna is pleading with Elsa to let her help. Anna is saying that she understands it now, she can really be close again. When she sings the phrase "for the first time in forever" before she makes her promises, I feel like Anna acknowledges that she wasn't entirely there for Elsa before, but she's simultaneously vowing that she can and will fix things now. Elsa, however, is sticking to the decisions she made in "Let it Go." She's still convinced that she belongs alone. She tries to convince Anna that they can both have everything they want this way (except, of course, each other, but she doesn't bring that up). She tries to ease Anna's mind of her worry for Elsa, singing "Yes I'm alone, but I'm alone and free." Which, by the way, is a sentiment that I personally have a really hard time understanding, and one that I don't think is possible. I believe that true freedom comes from the healing power of love, because only through the love of our Savior can we be released from the bonds of fear, and pain. "Free" and "Alone" are mutually exclusive. 

But anyway, at this point we get a critical moment: Anna informs Elsa that she had created an eternal winter. And suddenly, everything comes crashing down for Elsa. As her emotions quickly create a blizzard, she realizes that she doesn't actually have control; she realizes that the freedom and release she thought she had obtained by letting it go was all just a lie she was telling herself, and in an instant, all her fear and pain comes crashing back down on her. "I'm such a fool, I can't be free; no escape from the storm inside of me. I can't control the curse." I really love this scene, because the standoff between Elsa's fear and Anna's love is shown so dramatically. Elsa is the eye of a storm, but Anna is braving the winds and the snow to reach her. Elsa is singing about fear and pain, and Anna is singing about hope and love: "For the first time in forever, you don't have be afraid. We can figure this out together; we'll reverse the storm you've made. Don't panic, we'll make the sun shine bright. We can fix this thing together, we can change this winter weather. And everything will be all right." Anna is offering her a chance, Anna is offering her a way out, but Elsa is blinding herself to that possibility. In fact, the more Anna's love presents itself, the more Elsa's fear pushes back. This culminates in Elsa's outburst of fear and doubt ("I can't!") when she freezes Anna's heart. 

Anna please, you'll only make it worse!

There's so much fear... you're not safe here!

This scene is another key moment that I find very symbolic of our relationship with our Savior. Anna doesn't really mince words when she talks about all the trouble that Elsa had caused, just like our Savior will never ignore or set aside our sins. But what they both say afterwards is "But there's hope! I believe in you! We can fix this! Everything will be okay if we work together! You can be healed!" But Elsa's hardheartedness becomes so evident at this point: she's refusing to let the virtues of faith, hope and love into her heart. Not out of any intentional sinfulness, but because she's so accustomed to her fear and pain that she doesn't believe anything can overcome it, which is such a tragedy to me. Especially because it's such a realistic one; I've felt it so often in my own life, and seen it in the lives of many I love. And inevitably, rejecting love will hurt those around us. After all, Elsa was the one with the frozen heart, but Anna was the one who started dying because of it.

But neither of them were aware of that at the time, so they continue their argument. Anna tries one more time to insist that they can make things better, but Elsa doesn't understand how that could even be possible: "What power do you have to stop this? To stop me?" Faced with an ultimatum thanks to her sister's refusal to give up, Elsa again chooses fear over love by removing Anna, and everything she offers, from her life.

Which is basically where we left off in the last post, except that everything is that much worse this time. There's an interesting observation to be made here. Last time Elsa rejected Anna, she did it passively, by just not opening her door. The price was 3 more years of a tortured existence, and eventually a curse upon her kingdom and an attempt on her life. This time, she had to be proactive in rejecting Anna, by summoning Marshmallow. The price will be even greater for her: the next time she meets her sister, Elsa's greatest love in the world, it will be over Anna's frozen corpse. The more she rejects love, the larger price she pays, and soon she's going to lose everything because of her hardheartedness. And yet, because of the ultimate sacrifice of someone who loved her completely, she will be redeemed and have everything restored. I hope I don't have to spell out the analogy I'm making again (but I will if I need to). We'll see this all unfold in my last post about Elsa, so I hope you get a chance to read it!