As a parent of three, having the time to actually see a movie in the theater is a luxury seldom afforded! But over Thanksgiving Break, I actually had the chance to see Frozen II with my wife, my siblings and their spouses. And after the feature film full of darkness, sadness, elusive hope that is realized by the end, and tinged with Olaf’s brilliant ability to bring laughter in the worst of situations, we all drove home…
…As we did so, we scrutinized the film. What messages did it speak? What themes did we agree with? Which were wrong? What was the agenda?
Can’t you just enjoy a film for the entertainment value?! Many in that same car ride might scream.
No.
(A note: there will be a few spoilers here.)
Again, no we cannot. I cannot.
Frozen II is a film loaded with far more than entertainment value. It’s not a children’s movie, to be sure, but it does offer an interesting commentary on worldview that is actually a bit different than many films.
Cornerstone to the plot is a wrong that needs righting. There is nothing unusual about this; many (if not most) movies are premised this way. But what Frozen II does so bluntly that many films do not, is to take the time to establish a basis on which things are called “right” and “wrong.” To try and establish a worldview for justice as the pivotal basis for morality.
And what is that basis for justice? Answer: it is the spirits of nature—fire, wind, water and earth. It is they that determine what is good and bad, right and wrong.
This is actually quite a bit different than many films. Think about it. What do most films suggest as the standard for right and wrong? If you’ve been paying attention, you got it right: Truth is in you.
Frozen II takes a slightly, but not entirely, different tact. That it does so, I find fascinating. I find it revealing.
And I nevertheless find it tragic.
Not tragic because the look inside yourself for truth message is the more accurate, but because it is reveals the longing of the script writers—and the longing of a people and culture torn from the moorings of Christianity—to look for absolutes in a world that has for years all but dismissed them.
It is also interesting that, on the basis of the right and wrong established by the spirits, there must be a scapegoat—a person who is able to right the wrongs of the past. Of course, everyone who has seen the movie knows that Elsa is that scapegoat: the spirits gave her power to undo the wrongs committed by her grandfather. She is able to tame the angry spirits and, in theory, bring unity between two groups that were set in war against each other by betrayal and mistrust.
It is true that a superficial look at this worldview framework might draw some parallels with Christianity. A standard of justice broken and a scapegoat created to bring reconciliation is quite alike to the Christian worldview.
But this ignores some glaring issues.
In the end, it is not truly Elsa who brings reconciliation, but rather Anna who is able to use the spirits to destroy the structure (a dam) that has caused division. Elsa, if anything, makes things worse by furthering mistrust and division by her insistence to continue on her quest alone, leaving Anna to save their kingdom and Elsa’s own life.
Sure, these seem like worldview hurdles that we can overlook easily enough, if we avoid some deeper probing. Especially when you couple it with a key theme of the movie: do the next right thing, which I find to be particularly powerful.
Still, if Anna—representing all of us who are not endowed with special powers—is ultimately the one who “saves the day,” then the message returns somewhat anticlimactically to the same ‘the power is in you’ message that we suggested the film dismissed. Turns out it doesn’t quite dismiss it, after all. The spirits still create the standard of right and wrong—and in this, we find a bit of uniqueness in its attempt at absolutes—but fulfillment comes in ‘finding yourself’. Same clichéd theme unoriginal script writers have beaten to death.
These spirits themselves are extremely temperamental, raging here and there and then suddenly calmed by some mysterious power Elsa has that even she doesn’t fully understand until she is able to do just that: find herself.
I’ll pause here to revisit one theme I think that can have profound impact, commented on before: do the next right thing, complete with a beautiful song to promote it. Regardless of the worldview framework, it is certainly a prominent theme in the movie that we ought to do what we can to bring reconciliation in broken relationships, even if the movie adopts the oversimplified view that conflicts in society are primarily one group against another (with a strong politically correct dose of proclaiming that such conflicts are the result of racism, imperialism and bigotry).
But let’s get to the heart of the matter.
To Christians, the standard of right and wrong is not the cause of temperamental spirits or even a temperamental God, but a God who is perfect, holy and just. A God who created people for relationship with Him, and then with each other flowing out of that first relationship. The brokenness in the world came not from one group imperializing or marginalizing another, but from claiming that we are our own sovereigns, in need of nothing but our own intelligence, will and self-love. Brokenness and sin came from rebellion to the One who made us.
And freedom and fulfillment come in returning to Him, surrendering to Him, receiving His forgiveness. Instead of a path to redemption in finding ourselves, or even in doing “the next right thing,” redemption comes from a perfect sacrifice—a perfect scapegoat—and our submission to Him. Taking up our crosses, and following Him. Choosing to give up our lives that we might truly find our lives (Matthew 10:38-39).
Instead of temperamentally throwing a temper tantrum until we find in ourselves the will and truth to appease him—even in doing good things—we find in our Lord a love that understands we cannot do anything to bring reconciliation on our own. So in that profound love, He sent His own Son to do the job for us with the most brutal of deaths followed by victory over death in resurrection.
How different this is from the over-played message that we become our own scapegoat, our own source of redemption, once we truly find ourselves.
Christians, we can empathize with the writers of Frozen II—and the many movies whose mold it fits. There is brokenness in the world. There are wrongs that need righting. There are histories of injustice that ripple through society. There is a longing in individuals for an elusive fulfillment that movies like Frozen II try to wrap in a search for self or even the message of doing the next right thing.
But let us not stop there: instead, let us be the counter-message in our culture that says it is not in us to do the work of redemption, but in Jesus Christ. Do the next right thing—yes, indeed!—because Christ has given us a path to true reconciliation both with Him and each other. He paid the price for it. We do not need a dangerous quest following a siren’s call to find ourselves, but rather a humility — and far greater courage, if we are honest — to lay down ourselves for the life He has already promised those who do just that.
