The Cempasuchil Bridge

Rating: 9/10 (29 October 2017)

"Coco" is unquestionably a movie about bridging gaps. In the film, a literal bridge of marigold petals links the Worlds of the Living and the Dead for a night. In the real world, Pixar has tended a symbolic bridge with this film to link Mexicans, Chicanos (U.S.-based Mexicans and their descendants), U.S. nationals and the world via one of our most difficult shared human experiences. This isn't a movie spearheaded by Mexican artists to introduce the world to one of our beloved idiosyncrasies, like the inevitably comparable "The Book of Life" (a movie that I like but have far more issues with as a film fan than "Coco", regardless of nationality) but to simplify it as "a culturally appropriative work by a non-Mexican" would be to not only miss the point of the story told in it but to miss the point in its creation as well.
Lee Unkrich and the team at Pixar clearly went at great lengths to not only understand the holiday itself but also how to best present it to those unfamiliar. There's also a clear effort to try and understand the culture(s) that originate, adapt and celebrate the holiday (or as much as one can "understand" Mexico in anything less than a lifetime). Why so much effort? What one can infer from interviews with Unkrich is that his decision to make the movie came from a place of genuine admiration and curiosity. Filtered through Pixar's famously thorough work ethic in the service of storytelling, you end up with a film fruit of both love and intelligent, hard work, clear in many of the filmmaking decisions.
For those in the know, Mexican Spanish expressions are uttered without subtitles, national celebrities (or at least their skeletal avatars) appear and are paid tribute, the cultural differences between regions of Mexico are alluded to, the movie is clearly set in the modern day and respect for the country, its people and sometimes complicated family dynamics is on display. Regarding our relatives north of the border and elsewhere, the cast of the film is more Chicano than Mexican-born and the more internationally-popular term "Día de LOS Muertos" is as common as our preferred "Día de Muertos". For those complete outsiders to the holiday, its emotionality and symbolism are explained just the right amount to follow the plot yet leaving some air of mystery while Santa Cecilia is not too far from that most-familiar depiction of small, dusty colonial towns as the face of Mexico. All these compromises show that the film is intended as a message of unity and understanding. Yes, some references will definitely fly over many audiences' heads, but the Pixar magic lies in that, making some parts of the film so specific, they've managed to turn the whole universal.
Mexicans, a people defined by a tug-of-war between indigenous, European, personal, global and other identities that work best when balance between them is achieved, are a prime example of the importance of finding what's universal. Our holiday dedicated to "let's turn mourning into joy" may seem incongruous but it comes from the observation of joy and death as being equally unifying. We're all united by knowing joy, some of it courtesy of those who've passed on. We're all united by and equal in death, to every being that's ever lived. The death of beloved ones brings us memories, their memories bring us joy, this is the essence of Día de Muertos. "Coco"'s noble essence, par for the course of the Pixar canon (perhaps not as bold as "Wall-E" or "Monsters University", but bold enough) is to bridge the relatively small gaps between personal passion and responsibility, Mexas and others, on the same level as those huge gaps between joy and mourning, death and life. Thanks to the respectful research and collaborations behind the film, its essence not only aligns with that of the holiday, but hopefully will complement and strenghten each other, for years to come, for every early November night that we remember... and smile.