glitch25

Now that I've had a chance to spend the requisite time to see the new Pixar movie Coco, and to have bawled all three times, I thought I'd express some thoughts about it.

Firstly, I wanted to address the issue of Mr. Lassiter. I'm happy that the lastest mess with the head of Pixar doesn't seem to be deterring much from the movie. I was a bit worried given the specialness of this movie and knowing how things go that the asshole-ness of the head would impact it. Thankfully, it appears so far that it isn't. Kills me though. There is something about a man who otherwise followed his dreams and built something as awesome as Pixar and took it back to his roots at Disney who then also had been making a large history of making women near him uncomfortable. Reading stories about how new women would get indoctrinated by other women about how to avoid him and situations with him. Such a prime example of a man in a high position using that position to completely disregard the rights and well-being of women working for his company, and really most likely women all over. I'm happy that most of his role these days is as executive and not as a creator of the latest rounds of content. I feel particularly grateful of this with Coco. I also feel like taking him out back and re-arranging his physical anatomy.

Coco is an epic movie. I can't emphasize that enough. It feels to me to be the best movie they've done to date. The attention and respect to the cultural detail and the nods to the culture that are most likely reserved for people who are well steeped is fantastic. The animation is their best so far. The textures and the motion and the incidental details are so perfect. There are lots of times it is breath-taking to realize that what you are watching on the screen at any given moment is entirely created art in a machine and not in any way real. And I'm so pleased that they got their water detail right!! Long been a struggle, and it is amazing to not be taken out of the story by it. Watch for it! And the music... OMG... Pulled together from sources across Mexican origin and culture, the styles all seem represented and well integrated with a beautiful score from Michael Giacchino.

The story is sweet and very respectful of the concept and history of Dia De Los Muertos. And it really does tug on the strings. And it also makes fun of itself in the right ways.

One of the things that got me deep besides the story arc unto itself (which will totally get you too if you let it) was a particular song that was in the movie. A well-known and established ballad, this piece centers around the character of the Matriarch of the family, and when they first tease at it, I recognized it immediately because it is a piece I know well. One that I grew up listening to because my father played and sang it often. Given the struggles of this character and my own personal struggles which are not too dissimilar, just that teaser hit me like a baseball bat to the face. When that song reprises later, and with the ensuing plot, I was deep on the emotional rollercoaster. Add to that the fact that most of the cultural references and ties to Dia De Los Muertos came to me second hand because our family being staunch Catholics had long since abandoned the pagan-y Mexican practices. And while I know that other families managed to integrate things better, I felt at a loss for all that cultural existence for which I'm once again reminded that is not a part of who I've grown up to be. Obviously it doesn't stop me from picking it up now if I so choose. But to see how much we lost and how the culture of having a strong family unit was totally lost on my nuclear family is really sad and frustrating. Coco truly paints a picture of the sentiment of family and how even when there are struggles to build one's own identity within an established unit, family bolstered by love always comes first.

I love collecting media and this movie will be no different. Even after having seen it three times, I know there are things I've missed that I will enjoy when I see it again and again. I'm not always usually one for the pre-order on things, but this one will be without a doubt.

If it isn't obvious, I'm saying I'd highly recommend you see it. Multiple times. :-)

..mi ritmo! Bueno pa' gozar, Mulata.

I got reminded today about an interesting part of my life that I sometimes struggle with.

A coworker, whom I believe served a mission in a Latin American country but is otherwise non-natively Spanish speaking, and I had a short conversation in the kitchen in Spanish. I've been making greater efforts to throw it out there since I am otherwise surrounded by native speakers, and I knew this friend spoke it well enough to at least exchange pleasantries. We both admitted after a short while that we'd reached the edges of our conversational ability and talked about our backgrounds.

I always find it interesting talking about that. In my case, I was born to a family whom both my parents are native Spanish speakers, and yet I don't speak Spanish very well. Neither of them made much effort to teach my sister or I, and we even spoke to our grandparents in English. However, because my parents often spoke it to each other, and to their parents, I learned to understand the vocabulary.

The grand irony of aspects of this is that my Dad was a teacher, and working on his masters thesis for teaching Spanish while an exchange student in Guadalajara, Mexico. He had a knack for linguistics, and was able to break down the phonetic learning process for pronunciation and the like. It is part of why I learned to speak and read very early. I still remember lessons on the phonetic blocks when I was maybe 3ish. I'm told that he had the ability to take someone with a very non-native accent and have them speaking with an almost native Spanish accent.

And yet....

All of this for me had the added bonus of making traditional Spanish classes in school boring as hell. My vocabulary was significantly more advanced as a result of being exposed to the language, but my grammar was atrocious. It made things difficult from a learning perspective, and due to other upbringing issues I was never overly inclined to ask my parents for help.

I muddled my way through grade-school Spanish classes without much notice of anybody. I learned a little, but never managed any significant degree of fluency. Sometime later, in efforts to make college easier, I opted to throw in a Spanish class for my elective credits, and suddenly, all of that past caught up with me. :-)

On the first day of class, I remember walking in and sitting down. It was an entry level class, though the professor spoke almost entirely in Spanish. I believe it was her goal to get us acclimated to hearing the language, and she prompted the class along as needed for those who were truly beginners. Maybe it was that I didn't look in the slightest bit confused or concerned. I remember others around me answering questions in Spanish, and I did as well. I don't remember standing out in any way. However, as the first class ended, she specifically pointed at me and told me to stay after... Hmmm! So I did, and she then proceeded to talk to me in Spanish, and nearly berate me for being in her class. She told me that I didn't belong there, and that I should be taking the Spanish for Spanish-speakers class. I was very amused and left both feeling like I had had some long-kept secret revealed, and also really encouraged that somebody actually took the time to see the signs and notice and have useful suggestions.

I did stop going to that class, but I never made it to a more appropriate one. Then again, I never finished the degree either, but that is a whole other post for a whole other time. Ultimately, the point is, being of Spanish descent (Mexican, really) and not speaking Spanish is interesting. I am very definitely not alone in that. I stumbled on a documentary not too long ago on Netflix that talked about the Tejano music out of the Rio Grande valley and there was a young group that talked about growing up second-generation Latino to include a very strong accent, but not being able to speak Spanish and how they had to learn the songs phonetically when they decided to start playing them, and that is how their Spanish education began.

It's an interesting thing.

Some years after I was grown I seem to remember asking my parents why they never taught me or particularly encouraged me to speak Spanish, and I was told that they didn't want me to live a stigmatized life. Back in their time, integration was different. They were ostracized and discriminated against because they spoke Spanish first. Our parents didn't want us to endure that. And that is sad. Both for them and their experiences, and for the fact that by the time we came around, things were already changing. Granted, there still is discrimination and social issues with speaking other languages, particularly as a first. Too many calls from so many ignorant people that we in this country should only speak English. Not only ignorance of our founding as a country, but the ignorance and fear that perpetuates our intellectual ignorance and makes us natively inferior to people from other countries where it is normal and expected that they AT LEAST know two languages and often several more.

It certainly makes me realize that at my age, I've continued to do myself a disservice by not bridging that gap. And it encourages me to throw a little more out there when I get the chance. I may stumble and fall, but who doesn't?