I love Encanto. You love Encanto. We all love Encanto. Disney’s Encanto movie, which premiered on November 24, is a magical-realism-inspired musical that follows protagonist Mirabel, a young woman born into a family with magical “gifts.” While her relatives’ fantastical abilities range from controlling the weather to super strength, Mirabel is the only family member without a gift and struggles to find her place in the family and gain Abuela Alma’s approval and acceptance.
Encanto takes place in a colorful, flower-filled town in Colombia, and the film’s portrayal of Latinx people and culture has led many viewers to feel represented in animation for the first time. (If you ask me, the film also features some of Disney’s best music to date.)
Part of what makes the movie so special is its charm and simultaneous ability to tackle serious subjects like gender roles, family dynamics, and cultural expectations. There are also ongoing themes of generational trauma that emerge as each female member of the Madrigal family tries to uphold cultural and societal standards. By presenting these poignant themes through a fun story that’s palatable for all ages, viewers can reflect on their own family dynamics and challenges.
“In Latinx families, women often bear the brunt of generational trauma as they are the matriarchs, the caregivers, and the central figures of the family,” Annia Palacios, a Mexican-American therapist at Tightrope Therapy, tells Her Campus. “The expectations of the women in Latinx households are set very high, and from a young age, little girls are taught to conform to the family expectations because family comes first and family is everything,” she says. It appears that the Madrigal women’s gifts (or lack thereof) translate to different aspects of generational trauma, and their storylines in Encanto demonstrate how, in many cases, women must bear the family burdens.
Who Is The Madrigal family?
If you haven’t seen the film yet, first thing’s first: Watch this opening scene for a high-energy, jam-packed overview of the Madrigal family history. The story goes that Abuela Alma gave birth to triplets: Julieta, Peppa, and Bruno (but we don’t talk about Bruno…yet). Back in the day, Abuela and her husband Pedro were fleeing to safety when he was tragically killed in front of his family. Following the tragedy came the Madrigals’ beloved magical “casita” along with all of their special gifts. Throughout the film, the lead female characters — Julieta, Peppa, Isabella, Dolores, Luisa, and Mirabel — grapple with how to maintain peace in the household, keep the family unit strong, and above all, make Abuela proud.
Abuela Alma, the Madrigal family matriarch, represents the root of the family’s trauma.
At first glance, Abuela Alma is a tough character who takes no prisoners. As the strict Madrigal family matriarch, she keeps tabs on the family’s unique “gifts” and strives for her family to serve the community and townspeople. She has high expectations for everyone in the family, and can often seem cold and unpleasable, especially when it comes to the carefree Mirabel. In the film, it is revealed that Abuela Alma still carries deep trauma from having fled her home with her three babies and witnessing the tragic murder of her husband Pedro.
Viewers see how Abuela Alma navigates through her own pain and suffering through a series of flashbacks. And while thinks she is protecting her family by being strong for them, she ultimately copes with her heartache by being rigid with everyone and ends up causing more tension for the family. Abuela certainly isn’t a villain; she’s a complicated person who demonstrates the importance of healing your past wounds for the good of future generations.
Another important aspect of Abuela Alma’s character is that she’s never painted as the villain. Though she may be tough and unintentionally cause more damage, she’s ultimately doing what she believes is best for her family. I believe she is a great conversation starter for understanding the multifaceted layers of trauma and how we can be patient with our elders while still giving them space to apologize.
Julieta and Peppa, Abuela Alma’s daughters, represent having to care for ー or tiptoe around ー a traumatized parent.
Generationally, Julieta and Peppa only have one degree of separation from the trauma Abuela endured when her husband Pedro was tragically killed. After Pedro died horrifically while on a mission to save his family, Abuela Alma becomes overprotective and afraid that her family’s safety is in danger. In the movie, Julieta and Peppa represent different aspects of inheriting trauma from your parents — a challenge that many Latinx and first-generation women deal with today.
Julieta’s magical gift is being able to heal people with the food she makes; just one bite of her delicious arepas con queso and your arm is healed, or your mood is transformed. However, Julieta’s gift also designates her as the family therapist or healer. She is the one who must take up everyone’s problems and is expected to solve them with seemingly little effort.
“[Julieta] represents a common belief in Latinx cultures: Family and faith can heal all problems, and problems should stay within the family,” Palacios tells Her Campus. “Julieta bears the burden of a caregiver destined to heal all problems for others.”
Meanwhile, Peppa’s mood directly impacts the weather; throughout the movie, we see her trying to calm herself down so it won’t start to rain, or her family members telling her that “she has a cloud” (which is also a literal cloud). Over time, we see Peppa internalize the idea that she can’t express her true emotions so as to not cause any more trouble or “disturb the peace” in some way.
“The family’s comments about Pepa having a cloud sends the message that her feelings are somehow wrong, inappropriate, or too much,” Palacios adds. “[Latinx women] I see in therapy often come in wanting to be ‘less’ — less anxious, less emotional, taking up less space, because Latinx women are conditioned to believe these emotions should be controlled.”
As the eldest daughters in their families, Isabela and Dolores represent the need to maintain the perfect image of their families.
Cousins Isabela and Dolores are the eldest daughters of Julieta and Peppa, respectively. The seemingly-perfect Isabela appears to be Abuela Alma’s favorite; she’s the town beauty who grows flowers wherever she goes. Dolores’ power is that she can hear any noise, no matter how quiet. Both of their gifts appear to reflect the responsibility that comes with being the oldest daughter of the family and keeping the family unit intact.
According to Family Systems Theory, which classifies the family as a complex emotional unit, Isabela most closely represents the “heroine” role — AKA the over-achiever and “perfect child” who can do no wrong. However, during her song, “What Else Can I Do?”, Isabela reveals that she struggles with the pressure to maintain a perfect facade. “She must carry the family’s legacy and put her own needs last,” Palacios says, a challenge that represents the feelings of many daughters who are the oldest in their families.
“Latina women often feel a need to be perfect, to have the perfect career, to always respect their elders even when they are wrong, and to never deviate from the family because of all of the sacrifices their immigrant families have made for them,” Palacios says. Similarly, in the movie, Isabela’s existence revolves around pleasing others constantly, rising to everyone’s expectations, and setting a good example for her siblings.
dolores bears the difficult burden of maintaining the family’s secrets.
In Encanto, Dolores’ magical gift is the ability to hear everything that goes on in the town — whether she wants to or not. No matter how quiet the whispers are, Dolores will hear them; and as a result, she becomes privy to more secrets than her family will ever know.
For example, Tío Bruno reportedly disappeared years ago under mysterious circumstances, but (spoiler alert!) it is revealed that he’s actually been hiding inside casita’s walls the whole time. There’s a widely circulated theory that Dolores always knew Bruno was hiding in the house – after all, she can hear everything! Just imagine being one of the oldest daughters in the house and carrying the weight of knowing the location of the family pariah at all times, but not being able to tell anyone.
As the eldest daughter of her family, Dolores’s gift represents how eldest daughters must shield and protect their families when necessary, no matter the discomfort or cost.
Luisa, who is gifted with superhuman strength, takes on the difficult role of caretaker.
Julieta’s middle daughter, Luisa, really seems to have struck a chord with viewers. Gifted with superhuman physical strength, it appears as if Luisa can tackle virtually any problem, from fixing houses to carrying cattle across town. However, Luisa expresses in her aptly titled song, “Surface Pressure,” that she feels the expectation to hide her vulnerabilities and constantly be “strong.”
Luisa becomes a designated caretaker who makes difficult tasks look easy, despite being overworked and overwhelmed. As a consequence, Luisa’s self-worth revolves around her public perception as strong, and she believes that she would be practically useless without her strength.
Palacios tells Her Campus that Luisa’s role is one that many older sisters carry: “She represents the expectation that Latina women be strong, to carry all the problems within the family, to show no weakness. Yet, under the surface, we see Luisa breaking down as the pressures and expectations of the family are too much.” Encanto songwriter Lin-Manuel Miranda even admitted to taking inspiration for “Surface Pressure” from his older sister who, like Luisa, took on great responsibility when they were young.
As the family scapegoat, Mirabel represents how much healing the Madrigals have left to heal.
Encanto’s plot hinges on Mirabel coming to terms with being the only non-magical Madrigal. During the film, Mirabel feels insecure about having “nothing to offer,” and as a result, she is turned into the scapegoat for all of the family’s problems. According to Family Systems Theory, the “scapegoat” is typically a member who is blamed for the family’s shortcomings — even if the person has nothing to do with it — and is typically regarded as the “black sheep.”
When the house begins to tremble one night and Mirabel tries telling Abuela Alma about casita being in danger, Abuela Alma tells Mirabel that she’s “just seeking attention.” In the film, the Madrigals haven’t yet addressed the traumatic events from their past, and to abuela, Mirabel’s lack of gifts represents the possibility that the family’s collective magic can someday run out.
Despite Mirabel being the “scapegoat” she does have a clear perspective about Abuela’s inner conflict. During the film, she eventually prompts Abuela to heal, as shown in the song “Dos Orugitas.”
“Mirabel is the generational cycle breaker,” Palacios tells Her Campus. “She recognizes that Casita, representing the family, is breaking. Things are not OK and she will not allow the family, — and Abuela in particular — to continue to pretend that everything is OK.”
By the end of the movie, matriarch Abuela Alma goes from holding tight reins on the Madrigals in fear of losing the gift, to moving through her trauma with her family and realizing they are the true gifts.
All in all, Encanto slaps. Not only am I glad to see that the classic Disney magic is still intact, but I also applaud Disney for tackling a difficult concept like generational trauma in a nuanced and palatable way so viewers of all ages could understand. Given Disney’s recent controversies, my hope is that Disney takes the success of Encanto as a cue to increase representation in their movies and use their platform to tackle nuanced, relatable concepts. I hope that this sentiment resonates with women and girls everywhere who have had to grow up too quickly and are looking for healing within themselves or within their families.