I've invested more time and money into seeing Frozen 2 than I care to admit. I may have enjoyed it more than my 4-year old daughter (ok, I definitely did). The plot is solid, the songs slap, the textile details are groundbreaking, and the 3D effects were epic. Oh, and the representations of death, grief, loss, mourning, memories and resurrection were cool, too.
Anna's song, The Next Right Thing, is a gutting display of grief. Kristen Bell's belting through choked sobs gets an ugly cry out of me every time. Devastating. I can't even type the lyrics without tearing up:
Immediately before that song, we witness Olaf's death and Anna's unwavering acceptance and embrace as he “flurries away.” This scene is right there with Simba's discovery of his father, Bambi's mom's murder and the opening scenes of Up in its impact on the kids in the audience. Just look at this:
I'm calling it now, this is the death scene that launched a generation of death doulas. In 20 years, deathcare professionals will be reflecting on Olaf's death and how Anna's response inspired their future career. Coupled with Olaf's newfound ennui and existential curiosity, the #deathpositivity themes are strong.
The emotional intensity in Frozen II (or Froze-again as we call it) is offset by some solid laugh lines that really land in a crowded theater. A running gag throughout the film is the failed marriage proposals of the newly-woke Christophe, the love interest of our heroine. In fact, one of the early laughs is explicitly about death LOL. Wait, what? Yes, our leading man's marriage proposal attempt implodes spectacularly:
Him: I'm saying, just in case we don't make it out of here —
Her: Wait, what? You don't think we're gonna make it out of here?!
Him: No. No! I mean, we will make it out of here. Well, technically the odds are kind of complicated. My point is, in case we die —
Her: You think we're gonna DIE?!
Him: No! No, no, no! Well, we will die at some point...I mean, way far in the future, WE WILL DIE!
The adults roared with laughter. My kid leaned over and asked “why is that funny?”
How do you explain to a four-year old why "WE WILL DIE!" made all the adults in the room laugh? I don't know, ask someone else. I just whispered "comedy is really hard to explain, kiddo" and left it there. She accepted that and didn’t bring it up again (or hasn’t yet). The truth is, I don’t have a better explanation. I don’t know why death is funny in that context, but it is.
I started paying attention to casual death-related language and noticed my own references to "killing someone with kindness" and having a "dead cell phone battery." Hmmm. As someone attuned to talking to kids about death, I hadn't noticed the misdirection I was putting out there. And, Dear Reader, that was the day I broke my streak of perfect parenting. Just kidding.
Adults can translate an idiom and understand a turn-of-phrase, but our kids may be taking those comments at face value. The truth is, inanimate objects don't die and kindness is a pretty weak murder weapon. I know that, but does my 4-year old? How about my 2-year old? Dead-end streets, killing it onstage, knocking them dead and dying of laughter. Once you start noticing it, you realize it is EVERYWHERE.
How do our kids interpret all of this? More importantly, what should we do about it?
Let's all agree to start by taking a deep breath and cutting ourselves a little slack. Kids are smart, resilient, clever little scientists and they’ll figure this out. We managed, right? Our kids will hear misleading death-related language. It’s unpreventable. We can’t stop it, so we’ll have to accept it. Cool, moving on.
Now that we've agreed not to try to solve this or shield our kids, there are three things we can do when we notice misleading death-related language:
Congratulate ourselves for thinking about this stuff and building our own awareness. Good. For. Us.
Consider alternatives that don’t feel forced -- a discharged cell phone is an embarrassingly common problem for me and I’ve naturally started saying “my phone is out of battery” instead of “my phone is dead.” I didn’t try to change my language, it just happened.
If the timing is right for a conversation and we notice our kids picking up on unclear death-related lanugage, we can ask them if they know what it means: “do you know what a dead end street is?” or “what do you think it means to kill someone with kindness?” Said it before, gonna say it again -- just ask.
If you’re a parent, educator or adult who cares about kids, it can be overwhelming to be confronted with so many messages about how we’re not doing enough or we’re doing it wrong. I hope you never get this message from me. It’s really important to me that the ideas and stories I share in this newsletter are encouraging and reassuring.
Talking to kids about death isn’t easy, but you’re thinking about it, reading about it, embracing and facing it -- you’re doing something and it’s for the benefit of you and the kids in your life. Good. For. You. Keep going.
READ:
Harry the Dirty Dog by Gene Zion & Margaret Bloy Graham (1956)
Little Blue & Little Yellow by Leo Linni (1959)
Alright, let’s lighten this up a bit. In both of these stories, adults end up confused and the little ones have to help them sort it out. In the real world, adults spend so much time helping kids figure stuff out, but Harry, Little Blue and Little Yellow have the answers in these books. Who doesn't love a story like that? Bonus: both are available as board books.
WATCH:
Frozen II, Disney (2019)
The segment of the film (1:09 - 1:18) that covers Elsa’s temporary death, Olaf’s “flurrying away” and Anna’s song of grief and resilience are worth the price of admission. Olaf’s observations — including the line “this is called ‘controlling what you can when things feel out of control’” while playing with kids during a major crisis — might just stick with you, too.
LISTEN:
This American Life, episode #188: Kid Logic (originally aired 2001, updated in 2016)
“My son is mad at God and hates babies and I blame the Lion King.” The original version of this episode includes a piece about a 6-year old kid’s attempt to process his father’s imminent death which was replaced in the updated episode 15 years later. I think it’s worth it to go back and listen to this segment. Act 4: One Brain Shrinks, Another Brain Grows (11 min)
Both versions of this episode include stories and anecdotes about kids who use perfectly valid logic to come to completely incorrect conclusions.
Note: This episode is pretty intense and is probably not appropriate for kids; you may want to listen first and decide for yourself.
JUST finished reading Harry...and we love Mr. Lionni, need to pick up the color book. Great thoughts Megan!
Great post!! I actually laughed out loud at work when you were breaking down the scene from Frozen with Christophe and the marriage proposal. I have never thought about casual death-related language and how often we use it throughout our daily lives. Thank you so much for sharing this.