Who knew skeletons could be so adorable?
BQB here with a review of Disney/Pixar’s “Coco.”
You know, 3.5 readers, I don’t usually do a review of kids’ movies, but this one moved me a bit, so here we go.
Miguel is a young boy who dreams of becoming a famous musician, as famous as Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt), this fictional version of Mexico’s answer to Elvis.
Alas, his family has put a long, long, longtime ban on music due to the fact a musician in the family once caused great heartbreak for all.
Blah, blah, blah, shenanigans ensue and Miguel finds himself in the Land of the Dead, where the deceased “live” albeit in skeleton form. Miguel is still alive and obviously, does not belong here, but he’ll have to solve some mysteries about his family’s past in order to return to the land of the living.
There’s a lot of bright colors and the plot was a little better than usual, IMO, for a kids’ movie. But there was one takeaway that stood out.
You see, we learn that it’s possible for the skeletons to die a second time, i.e. to disappear without a trace. The skeletons live and prosper and are happy…for as long as the living remember them. Once the last person who remembers the formerly alive skeleton dies, and there isn’t anyone else around to tell stories of the dead person when he/she was alive, then the skeleton ceases to be.
Ergo, whether it’s “The Land of the Dead” or Heaven or whatever afterlife you envision, we’ll never know for sure what happens when we die. Theology tells us we live on. Evidence tells us we become worm food. However, you can at least take steps in this life to make sure you are remembered fondly and tales of your deeds will be passed down throughout the generations.
The thought is bittersweet – it provides motivation to get out there and live and love, to be productive and helpful and friendly in the hopes that no matter what happens after this life, you will at least be remembered by others.
But the downside is the average person, even with the best intentions and the most follow-through, probably, at best, can’t achieve something that allows them to be remembered past a few generations of their family.
Doubt it? Think fast. How many of you are able to tell me the name of your great, great grandfather or mother? Tell me in the comments how far back in your family tree you are able to recite.