In the mountains of Colombia, every Madrigal family member is blessed with a unique, magical power. Luisa has the power of strength. Antonio recently acquired the ability to communicate with animals. For a handful of generations, this family living in Encanto discovers their gifts when they are young — all except Mirabel, who doesn’t seem to have any magical gifts at all. Yet when the magic surrounding their casita begins disappearing, Mirabel might be the only one who can save her family.
Encanto is a colorful and vibrant animated film filled with heart, musical numbers, and the usual Disney expectation of someone struggling with their identity only to find their way after a little adventure. This four-quadrant film was recently nominated for three Academy® Awards, including Best Animated Feature.
Encanto stars Stephanie Beatriz, María Cecilia Botero, John Leguizamo, and Jessica Darrow with music by Lin-Manuel Miranda. The film was written by Charise Castro Smith and Jared Bush, and was directed by Jared Bush, Byron Howard, and Charise Castro Smith.
Here are five screenwriting takeaways every writer can learn from Encanto.
It’s pretty standard for the modern-day Disney movie to open with a history of the world the audience is about to enter. Encanto is no different. Through narration and stunning cinematic spectacle, we learn how a magical candle spawns a miracle and brings supernatural gifts to the family and what it means for them, their community, and their casita.
Writers can see how this offers an exciting and engaging way to provide exposition to the story. It also sets up expectations for the characters while foreshadowing the troubles ahead.
Other recent Disney movies that do this include Moana, which shares the story of the heart of Te Fiti leading to the title character’s interest in adventure, and Frozen II, which shares the story of how Elsa and Anna’s parents met and an enchanted forest where their kingdom and another kingdom went to war.
It’s not enough to simply call your main character the lead of the film. Storytellers must have a solid reason for that person to be the one the audience follows on the journey. The more they stand out for reasons of being different, it seems the more likely we’ll want to see that person’s adventure.
Mirabel is that person we want to follow. Here she stands in a family with magical gifts who was never given anything special — but that’s what makes her special, to us. She’s a complicated character who is forever optimistic and helpful yet struggles with her own identity. When the fate of the family seems to rest on her shoulders, how could she rise to the occasion when she’s never particularly been special at all?
Another example: There’s nothing special about a beat cop in New York named John McClane who travels to Los Angeles to save his marriage. But he’s a blue-collar guy in a white-collar environment, and then terrorists take over. Now Die Hard has become a classic.
Mirabel is special to the audience because she’s different than everyone else. Writers can see how contrasting the lead with the supporting characters adds to a compelling story.
Musical numbers are a lot like action set pieces: you need a good reason to have one.
If musical numbers just start without any reason, then they detract from the story; just like how an action scene for the sake of something exciting doesn’t really work if it’s not in the context of the story.
Musical numbers are great for providing exposition, especially in a kid’s movie where elementary-age children won’t want to watch two people just talk for very long. Encanto’s musical numbers explained the story at the beginning of the film when the audience needed to understand the context of the magical gifts. It also works when we finally learn why the characters won’t talk about Bruno in the Oscar-nominated song “We Don’t Talk About Bruno.”
Writers can take this lesson into other genres as well, especially the aforementioned action genre. Need to explain why the Terminator is trying to kill Sarah Connor? Have the hero provide the exposition while they try to outrun the lethal machine.
Whether or not you’re using Joseph Campbell’s "Hero’s Journey" as a guide, the main character will need a call to adventure or an inciting incident. In Encanto, Mirabel discovers that something is impacting the magic in the house, literally breaking it apart and possibly removing the gifts her family encompasses. This sends her on a search for answers to find out what the issue is and how to save her family.
Mirabel’s call to adventure shows itself in a vision — it’s her catalyst. With each step on the journey, there’s conflict, including her own Abuela who wants her to stop butting into the house's past. Why would her grandmother not want her to get to the bottom of this...?
Every main character needs a reason to be the main character of the movie, the call to adventure propels that reason and drives the story.
Every movie has a heart; also called a theme or even a through-line. Encanto is driven by what family and happiness mean. Mirabel’s reasons for solving the problems stem from her loyalty to her family, but this is tested as she learns more about her history, the magical gifts, and the elusive Bruno.
Mirabel is the happiest unhappy person we see, at least at the beginning. Her unwavering optimism and willingness to help out her family combined with her sadness of not having a magical gift brings up the question of what it means to be happy. Because this is a movie, anyone can guess that there are more than a few family members burdened by their gifts, but continue on as normal for the sake of their family. Is Mirabel missing out because of her lack of a gift? Or is she the lucky one?
Writers can see how happiness and family are a consistent through-line of Encanto and how it impacts every character.
Encanto is currently streaming on Disney+.