Encanto debuts in theaters on Nov. 24.
Encanto is a movie about magic and so in some sense, it feels cliché to say that everything about it — from the music to the animation to the story — dazzles in a way one might consider, well… magical. But this magic is also what sets Encanto apart, as the film marks the first time Disney has dabbled in the trope of magical realism.
And that’s what makes the 60th animated feature one of Disney’s recent best.
The story of Encanto revolves around 15-year-old Mirabel Madrigal (Stephanie Beatriz) and her family, who live hidden in the mountains of Colombia in an enchanted, vibrant house. Everyone in the Madrigal family receives a special and unique gift that “unlocks” when they’re 5 years old; these powers are generally based on their personality.
In a snappy, Lin-Manuel Miranda-flavored opening, we’re introduced to the family Madrigal: There’s sisters Luisa (Jessica Darrow) and Isabela (Diane Guerrero), who have the powers of super strength and the ability to make flowers bloom, respectively. There’s Mirabel’s mother Julieta (Angie Cepeda), who can heal people with her cooking, and her aunt, Pepa (Carolina Gaitan), who can control the weather. There’s cousin Dolores (Adassa), who has enhanced hearing; cousin Camilo (Rhenzy Feliz), who can shape-shift; and cousin Antonio (Ravi-Cabot Conyers) who can speak to animals. Abuela (Maria Cecilia Botero, with a singing voice some might recognize as In the Heights alum Olga Merediz) heads the Madrigal crew and keeps everyone in line — for better or for worse.
Surrounded by a fantastical family, Mirabel is the only one who doesn’t have special powers, despite her quirky and empathetic personality. During a ceremony to reveal Antonio’s gift, she notices that her house seems to be in danger of falling apart. Mirabel’s constant warnings fall on deaf ears as everyone around her assumes she’s acting out due to being frustrated about not having a special gift. Determined to save her family’s home, she’s forced to follow clues left by her estranged cousin Bruno (John Leguizamo), who disappeared after his power of seeing the future made him, well, not the most popular member of the family.
So much about Encanto comes together to make the movie an eclectic and celebratory tale, particularly the stellar voice cast. As Mirabel, Beatriz — who showed off her singing chops earlier this year in In the Heights — brings just the right amount of charm and sincerity to the non-magical teenager. Similarly, as Bruno, Leguizamo manages to balance both the humor and the poignant resentment of someone who harbors years of deep hurt and shame. Darrow and Guerrero as Luisa and Isabela both get particular moments to shine during solo songs that not only light up the screen, but deftly show the hidden complexities these characters carry with them.
Visually, Encanto is a delight, filled with stunning colors, beautiful animation, vibrant music, and a joyfulness that pops off the screen. The story never feels slow or uninspiring, and the film effortlessly blends heart and humor in a way that feels seamless. If you’re a fan of previous works that Miranda has had a hand in bringing to life via original songs, you’ll certainly see a pattern (both thematically and musically) in the tracks he pens for this film and in their deeper meanings of belonging and identity.
Ultimately, both of those things are what helps make Encanto great. Unlike other films, the magic in Encanto isn’t derived from a mystical being or supernatural creature, and it’s not something that’s rooted in pure fantasy. It’s born out of things that are very human and very relatable: needs, wants, drives, dreams, and familial relationships. This foundation helps ground the film in a realistic world, making every character’s choice, fight, win, or setback even more triumphant or heart-wrenching.
Melding family, love, acceptance, and even the breaking of generational trauma, Encanto is a film about finding your true self and learning that you don’t have to necessarily fit the mold that the world — or the people you love — want. It’s about breaking away from unhealthy and outdated traditions and about accepting that building something new doesn’t mean old memories aren’t important. It’s a celebration of the fact that powers may make us extraordinary, but it’s our hearts that make us special.
In the hopes of making something meaningful for both the Latina community and the wider world of animated entertainment, writers Charise Castro-Smith and Jared Bush create a world that, much like Mirabel, embraces its human heart and shines brighter than anything created by supernatural forces.
