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El Día De Los Muertos (The Day Of The Dead) is a holiday, originating in Mexico, that honors loved ones who’ve passed. This annual three-day holiday, which began at midnight on October 31 and runs through November 2, is at the heart of the storyline of Coco, a 2017 animated movie from Disney Pixar.
“El Dia de Los Muertos teaches that life is not a line, but rather, a circle. It is a holiday that articulates something radical: that death and life are not a binary,” shares Juan Paul Brammer, Chicano writer for them. “Death is life, and life is death, inseparable and indistinguishable. Our ancestors didn’t merely come before us. We are them, their living texts. We are made up of them, and they of us.”
Every day in Trump’s America, it seems, brings a renewed attack to POC, including immigrants and also people like myself, a child of immigrant parents. My mother often tells our family that we must be appreciative of our life in America; “Es una bendición (It’s a blessing),” she continually reminds us. Yet I find myself infuriated by this solemn belief of hers, for it makes me feel as if she’s underplaying the blood, sweat, and tears her and my father have shed to build any life for us here. My mother learned English while attending school in order to become a Registered Nurse, and my father worked in the fields to help make ends meet while training to become a mechanic, while also learning English. It’s the work you do in between fate and faith that defines you.
It’s tiring to fight every day, but it’s who and what we fight for that fuels us. While I’m not a strong believer in silver linings, there’s glimmer in family, and on this El Dia de Los Muertos, I’m turning to Coco to remind me of that.
The film beautifully portrays a mosaic of the holiday’s traditions that remain true to its essence. We’re introduced to the celebration through Elena Rivera’s (played by Renée Victor) private ofrenda, or ritual altar, first featured in the opening scene. The altar displays portraits of past loved ones, inviting them to return to Earth. Caléndulas (marigolds) decorate the altar. We later see petals scattered across the bridge connecting the Land of the Dead and that of the living, guiding the dead to and from their place of rest with their vibrancy. Loved ones’ favorite foods are placed on the altar, while water is on hand to quench their thirst after their journey.
“Growing up I wasn’t too familiar with the Day of the Dead celebration and its importance,” the Mexican-American artist Esperanza Rosas (also known as Runsyyy) shared with me. “I knew it was for honoring the dead and usually associated well known, commodified items to the celebration: la calavera, la catrina, and altares. It wasn’t until I began working at the Mexican museum in Chicago, that I learned the importance of the celebration as well as why some of the items are used in the altares: flor de cempazuchitl, alebrijes, [and] papel picado. In watching Coco, I saw all of this come to life. It wasn’t about blatantly using catrines y catrinas to sell the movie, it was more-so to honor and educate people about what Day of the Dead is and the importance of family in a heartwarming way.”
The appreciation and respect of the celebration, and Mexican culture overall, portrayed throughout the film was front in center from its creation. Pixar hired a cast and crew of Latinos, including Mexicans and Mexican Americans, and brought cultural advisors like Marcela Davison Aviles, playwright Octavio Solis and political cartoonist Lalo Alcaraz on-board to advise on its authenticity.
“Coco is a great movie for the Mexican-American kid trying to learn about their culture–especially since many of the roles are played by a Latino cast–as well as just a reassurance to anyone on what Day of the Dead signifies and how we can respectfully celebrate it,” says Rosas. “Honestly, not even just Mexican American kids [can connect with] Coco, also Mexican immigrants who have came to the U.S. and haven’t celebrated the holiday out there in a long time. I know I watched it with my friend’s mom, who is from Michoacán, and she loved it and was constantly pointing out how they celebrate the holiday in her town.”
“El Dia de Los Muertos (The Day Of The Dead) teaches that life is not a line, but rather, a circle.”
Throughout Coco there’s a reunion of sorts among family, between generations and between the living and the dead; and while there’s conflict between them due to the pursuit of passion, ultimately the root of this conflict is the hope to protect one another from hurt. “Never forget how much your family loves you,” Mamá Imelda, played by Alanna Ubach, reminds Miguel (played by Anthony Gonzalez) before he returns to the living world. Another universal theme that unfolds throughout the film, which I can personally relate to, is the divergent perspectives among family on what constitutes as success. Family? Fame?
Brammer believes “Coco is a gorgeous film, and as a cipher for Mexican wisdom, which, like most cultural texts, can be arcane, I celebrate it. It’s also visually stunning, and a much needed reminder of how beautiful our heritage is, and what we can accomplish when we are given a seat at the table. I would remind myself and others, though, that El Dia de Los Muertos and all the things it represents is too grand, macabre, stubborn to be confined into a Disney format, but I love that Coco is inspiring Mexicans and people in diaspora to reconnect to their roots.”
When I first watched Coco in theaters, I left weeping. Not only did it portray my culture beautifully and respectfully, I saw it pull at the heart strings of other Mexicans and Mexican-Americans of all ages. We felt connected. No matter how tightly tied you are to the celebration, you walk away either learning or loving more of Mexican culture, family, or yourself. The filmed sparked dialogue between generations, uniting a range of perspectives and upbringings. Even this past weekend, attendees of all ages gathered at a screening of Coco held by the AARP in downtown Los Angeles, which was at the core of other heritage festivities.
“At a time when we are being subjected to images of brown children being ripped away from their parents, it’s more important than ever that we celebrate communion with our loved ones in the form of El Dia de Los Muertos. We celebrate the ties that are too powerful to sever, the things that can’t be taken away from us. For me, the holiday lights my way home,” says Brammer.
“You have our blessing, no conditions” are Mamá Imelda and Hector’s (played by Gael Garcia Bernal) last words to Miguel. While the world makes me weary of my mother’s belief in blessing, she reminds me of the strength in family and why I fight. I fight for her and our culture that ties us.
Erika Ramirez–born in San Jose, CA and based in Los Angeles, CA–is a writer, editor, and producer. She’s the founder of digital magazine, ILY, which is about love. She’s also currently the Artist Marketing Manager (Content) at Red Bull. She’s held editorial positions and written for various outlets as Billboard, ROOKIE, NPR, VOGUE, ELLE, Pitchfork, and more. Follow her on Twitter: @3rika
