Concluding Thoughts on Frozen II

In this post: Connecting St. John of the Cross and the ascetical life with the last 20-30 minutes of Disney's Frozen II.

Wow! We've been "in this together" (as much as I really get annoyed by that phrase) for like...3 months now? It feels like a lot longer than that. Maybe because even though very little seems to happen in my day-to-day so much is happening across the nation.

That probably is part of the reason why it's taken me so long to wrap-up on my review of the themes in Frozen II - literally, there's been so much other stuff that my brain has been encountering and processing as more and more comes to light. But I set out to do something, so we're going to finish! (Even though I'd rather be telling you about what I noticed during the Marvel movie marathon I undertook recently. But that'll wait until next time, I guess.)

Okay! Back to Frozen II.

Not so unlike a lot of us right now, while at the "river of memory", Elsa finds out that Arendelle has a complicated history. It turns out that Elsa's grandfather built the dam for the Northuldra as a power device. It wasn't to help them, but rather was meant to put a barrier on the magic that aided their livelihood. While her grandfather believes this is for the good of his own people, to shelter them from dangerous magic, Elsa understands now that magic (which she knows through experience) is not something to fear but something to utilize for the good of others.

Unfortunately, the narrative gets worse. But to follow it, Elsa must go deeper into Atohallen, thus confirming what Anna feared from their mother's song: "Not too far or you'll be drowned." But Elsa is determined to know what happened, and so she jumps. She learns that her grandfather was confronted by the Northuldra leader, who recognized that the dam was interfering with the livelihood of his people. But the king decided to "shoot the messenger" before he could get to the people, and so he murders the Northaldra leader before he can tell the people the truth. The resulting skirmish between Arendelle and Northuldra arises after this, which makes it all the more remarkable that Anna and Elsa's Northuldra mother would rescue Arendelle's heir to the throne. But I posit that Elsa and Anan's mother knew how to look beyond the circumstances and see the humanity. She saw a human being in danger, not an enemy. That's what motivated her to help, and the magic of the wood helped her to save his life because of her selfless choice - her agape, as it were. From Elsa's flashes of memories that her mother shares with her in Atohallen, it seems that Elsa and Anna's father knew his wife's heritage (she confides to him that she needs to tell him about her past), but I do wonder why their parents never told the princesses the whole story. Maybe they were waiting until they were older? (Though it is a Disney movie, so we all know how that goes - namely, if the protagonist wasn't raised by a single parent or isn't an orphan, they're in the rare few.) The only problem is, now that Elsa knows the truth, she's gone too far on her own to be able to return.

This is one area of the story where I felt like there was little development. Why can't Elsa return? The "not too far or you'll be drowned" verse obviously bears some significance, but why is that the case?


I think spiritually there is an answer perhaps, but only the start of one - and I don't think that this is what Disney meant to do, so I won't pretend to speak for them. A wise person once said: "Your heart is a scary place; don't go in alone." Their point was that in examining ourselves - our own hearts, our own stories, our own wounds - we shouldn't attempt to do it by ourselves. We must go into that interior journey with Christ. Otherwise, coming face-to-face with our own darkness can feel overwhelming, and we can be tempted to despair. But why is this true? I think because it relies on the false belief that we have to do all the heart/hard work ourselves before we come to Jesus. We think that we have to "have our act together" before we can be pleasing to Him. But Jesus never says this. He says "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy-burdened, and I will give you rest." He doesn't expect us to be perfect, our clean up our mess, before we let Him in. He wants to be our companion on the journey - He wants us to do the work with Him. This is the part of the spiritual life called askesis, or the ascetical life. It's a partnership with the Lord - we have to do some work, yes; but we're not doing it alone. After all, "without [Him] we can do nothing." We need His grace to even begin the work of drawing near to Him. But it's a partnership. We walk with Him. We work with Him. This reminds me of one of the quotes that (I think) changed my whole perspective on grace:

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace, only that it meets us where we are, and does not leave us where it found us." -Ann Lamott

But again, the warning label reads: "Don't go in alone." That's the great thing about grace: it's a gift. We don't have to earn it. We don't have to be worthy of it (because honestly, we can't be). We do, however, need to be receptive to it. We can't put up barriers and expect it to work in us effectively. This is why thinking of grace in a measurable way (like it's a quantity that we either have more or less of) can be problematic. Grace, we are told, is God's own life. The spiritual journey is essentially how deeply we are entering into that life of grace - how fully am I entering into God's own life of love and letting it transform me from within? ("We have to go down before we can go up," as Bishop Robert Barron is fond of saying; as in, we have to be transformed from within before we can start transforming what is outside of us.) This is where we should not go in alone - to ourselves. Don't descend into the depths of your soul without the grace of God and person of Christ accompanying you - otherwise, you might find yourself overwhelmed by the darkness and wickedness that you see you're capable of. The likely result of this without the presence of Christ is despair. But with Him? Transformation!

Now, let's return to Elsa - she's gone in alone. In this case, her likely companion would have been Anna. How Anna could have saved her from this, I'm not sure. Would they still have found out the whole truth? Again, I'm not sure. But I think there's both a warning and a sign in Elsa's choice. "Don't go in alone," of course. But is there a Truth worth dying for? As Christians, we know the answer. (I don't claim that the truth Elsa's in pursuit of is equivalent to the Truth of who Jesus is and what He has revealed. But all truth is somehow a facet or a fractel of the ultimate Truth. Jesus says in John 8:32 "...you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.") As Elsa finds herself frozen to the spot of the dark woods where she witnesses the past, she looks toward the sky and in a final desperate motion sends a burst of magic into the sky as she calls out: "Anna!"

Meanwhile, Anna and Olaf are trying to find their way through the passageway they used to escape from the rock giants. Elsa's bursts of magic meets them along the way, taking the shape of their grandfather about to murder the weaponless Northuldra leader. Anna and Olaf realize this is from Elsa, and it's the truth. Olaf also recognizes: "That goes against everything Arendelle stands for." But Anna realizes there's only one way to set things right - they have to remove the dam that was a trick to hurt rather than a gift to help. This will mean that Arendelle will be destroyed because the force from the water will be too great. But the people are outside of the city, so they don't have to fear that people will get hurt. That's why the magic drove them out in the first place it seems.

Anna and Olaf find a way out, and Anna says they have to hurry because Elsa is probably on her way. But she stops as she notices a few snowflakes surrounding her, and then realizes they're coming from Olaf, who understands that he's fading away as the magic in him fades. This means Elsa must also be fading. Then (moment for tears), Olaf says: "Anna, I'm sorry. But you're going to have to do this next part on your own. Okay? ...Hey, Anna? I just thought of one thing that's permanent. Love."

Saint John of the Cross, author of "Dark Night of the Soul"

This won't be the first time that Disney does a pretty accurate depiction of the "dark night of the soul" or a "period of desolation", as they are named by the Catholic Tradition. (Before COVID-19, I had just seen a production of "The Lion King," and a friend pointed out that Simba's solo "Endless Night" also captures this theme. Listen here.) St. John of the Cross likens this experience in the spiritual life to the process of a mother who is weaning her young child. The child does not understand, and feels as though the mother is distancing herself. But really, the mother is helping the child to prepare for being able to receive more solid food. Similarly, in the spiritual life, the soul can feel as though God has withdrawn Himself from us because we no longer feel the consoling feelings and emotional reassurances that we felt at first. But in this time, God is purifying us, purifying our love - helping us to be detached even from the good feelings that He gives us, so that we can truly want Him for Who He is, not just for what He brings us. St. John of the Cross calls this the "dark night of the soul," but also explains that during this time, it is not true that God has removed the light from us; but rather, we are so engulfed in the light that we are blinded - we cannot see because all around us is light. This speaks to the truth that Scripture repeats in the Psalms: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted." God does not remove or distance Himself from us in desolation or trial; rather, He is so intimately close that we have a difficult time perceiving His presence. It's mysterious. And it's beautiful.

Something of this dark night is expressed in Anna's solo: "The Next Right Thing".

I've seen dark before, 
But not like this. 
This is cold, this is empty, this is numb.
The life I knew is over,
The lights are out.
Hello, darkness.
I'm ready to succumb. 

I follow you around,
I always have. 
But you've gone to a place I cannot find.
This grief, has a gravity,
It pulls me down,
But a tiny voice whispers in my mind:
You are lost, hope is gone;
But you must go on,
And do the next right thing. 

In the dark night of the soul, these feelings of numbness, emptiness, loneliness can overwhelm the soul so much that it can make it hard to recognize the presence of God. ("You've gone to a place I cannot find." But that place, is just deeper within...in the darkness, as well as beyond it.) Indeed, the whispers in our mind and soul can be very convincing - "you are lost, hope is gone." But we know that hope, in the Christian sense, is trusting in God even in difficult times. This is why the symbol of hope is an anchor. The anchor does not assure that storms will not come; but instead, it ensures that the boat will not stray far when the storm comes. What do we do in the darkness? What do we do when the storms arise? "Do the next right thing."

When I first heard this line in the movie, I was reminded of where I had first heard this phrase: Matthew Kelly's book: Perfectly Yourself: 9 Lessons for Enduring Happiness. I still have not finished this book, but I would pick it up at various points during my time in high school and my early college years. "Do the next right thing," was particularly a poignant quote for me. In the usual blur of questions about discernment and other challenges I was experiencing in human relationships, it was easy to be overwhelmed by the "what to do" question. But this statement, this mantra, made it so simple. The next right thing. Focus on that, and you'll be able to keep taking another step in the right direction. And isn't this how God deals with us? He does not lay out for us the whole map of our lives when we ask Him what He wants us to do. He just reveals the next step. One step at a time. These themes are definitely found within the song Anna sings. I think perhaps Anna is even discovering that there's something more than her relationships with others that makes it worth persevering (dare I say, persevering in faith). After all, those relationships all have been stripped away at this point: Kristoff is gone, Elsa is gone, Olaf is gone. She's "on her own," and yet...something drives her forward. This too, is an experience anyone who's been through a dark night or period of desolation can relate to. Sometimes it's hard to understand what to keep "rising for," as Anna says. But we do because we have faith; we do because we trust Him; we do because we love Him. Christ is our anchor in the midst of the darkness.

I won't look too far ahead
It's too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath
This next step
This next choice is one that I can make

So I'll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn, what comes then?
When it's clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I'll make the choice
To hear that voice
And do the next right thing. 

Anna goes on with her plan - break the dam. This is also reflective of Catholic spirituality. Many of the saints advise those in desolation not to make any major decisions or changes until the desolation has passed. The idea is to stay faithful - to stay rooted in Christ - until the storm passes. (Granted, there may be moments where that's not possible; but that's why having a spiritual director and a regular prayer life are so important.)

Anna gets the attention of the earth giants so she can lead them to the dam and crush it. So naturally, Anna's trying to outrun the giants and it's not going well. This is the moment where my affinity for Kristoff was beautifully confirmed. He comes to Anna's rescue, and there's no: "What the heck? Where did you go?" or explanation demands. All he says is: "I'm here. What do you need?" Talk about a good model of relationship when someone's in a rough patch - "I'm here. What do you need?" (Now I'm not saying that there shouldn't be better communication; that's needed. But in this exact moment a conversation about the failures on both sides is not going to be super fruitful while you're also trying to not get crushed by earth giants. And this conversation does begin before the movie is over, so that's good.) As the dam is destroyed and the waters release, the magic holding Elsa down is broken.

Back at Arendelle, the people watch as the waters start to close in on their city, but Elsa and her new friend (the water-spirit-horse) stop the destruction. Although...personally, I was a little disappointed in this choice by Disney. For something new to be built, at times the old has to be sacrificed. So, I think it would have been more powerful if Arendelle had been forced to rebuild. But, I digress. (Also, gotta say that I enjoyed how this movie didn't make Anna "pretty cry", but she's actually a little bit of a mess when she sees Elsa again. It's the little things.)

As the movie concludes, Elsa and Anna both find their callings. Elsa remains with the Northuldra people, to guide the people as their leader. Anna and Kristoff return to Arendelle, where Anna serves Arendelle as queen. The two sisters take different paths, and come to their vocation through struggle and self-discovery. But they both find themselves where they're meant to be in the end: where their gifts and identity meld into their vocation in a way that mirrors the divine plan. (And yes, Kristoff finally gets his moment and asks Anna to marry him.)

While I did notice some underlying "political" themes in the film, it didn't really bother me because I think the movie lends itself to the human dimension of the problems, which is what we should all keep in mind: (a) that human beings are affected by the choices of leadership; (b) that human beings (past, present, and future) make mistakes that at times call us to use our knowledge of the truth to make changes for the better; and (c) all of this can be done (by God's grace) without dehumanizing either side. But that wasn't my main take-away from the movie, so I didn't comment on it much.

I'd be interested to hear what other's thoughts were on the movie, whether you agree or disagree with my own. Please feel welcome to comment and share. (Good rule of thumb for commentators: "Truth IN charity," folks.)

To close, I'd like to share a short passage from St. Paul's letter to the Romans, chapter 8, about "transformation," which Olaf reminds everyone was bound to take place in the forest.

For creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance.

In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God’s will.

We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose (Roman 8:19-28). 

Till next time, we wait in hope.
The Itinerant Catechist