So, clearly, I saw Moana.
And I am here for the critique re:
THE MONOLITH PROBLEM, where elements from a few different Polynesian cultures were fused into this fantasy one; and
THE MYSTICAL-PAST PROBLEM, where brown people are shown as part of a past or magical “other” world that makes romanticization easy and can erase the contemporary experiences of Indigenous people who are very much a part of the current, real world.
I’ve also heard critiques that Maui was too Minstrel-esque, and while I felt he was treated with far more depth and respect than, say, Mama Odie (Princess and the Frog) I see where that is true and I can respect that.
All that considered, though: I fucking loved the movie.
It did my soul such good to see a brown girl in the lead (I identified hard: my type of mixed looks quite a bit like her) who wasn’t super-thin; who was integrated into her community–supported by and motivated by her parents, grandmother, and her PEOPLE; who, as a ‘princess,’ actually displayed leadership skills; whose story was compelling and moving without any hint of romance; who learned over the course of the film and used what she learned; whose heroic actions centered around the encouragement and healing of others as much as her individual acts; who STAYED. IN. HER. BODY. THE. WHOLE. FUCKING. FILM; Who was not overshadowed by a comedy sidekick; who was never over-sexualized; in whose story the 'magic’ derived from spirituality/mythology; and who was framed by gorgeous music and design throughout.
By far the best thing I heard about the film, though, was from an eight year old Lakota girl (via her mother) whose take-away was, “She loved the water.” MNI WICONI. Like, damn. <\p>