Coco's Feel-Good Oppression

: Well, shoot! It seems that no one uploaded your photo... :..Frida! : Okay, when I say that was Frida a moment ago... : that... that was a lie and I apologize for doing that : There is no photo in an ofrenda, you can't cross the bridge. : Did you know? I'll quickly pass by...: You won't even know I'm gone. Hey: Stop resisting arrest! : Skeleton? : More like... : Felon-ton : I'm going to stop by and you won't even know I'm gone. Within seconds of arriving in the Land of the Dead, Pixar's Coco lets us know that the afterlife version of him runs on very specific systems.

Systems that permeate almost every scene in the film and are initially used for everything from characterization and conflict to world-building and comedy. : Welcome back, friends! : Something to declare? :Actually yes. : Hello... But as the film progresses, it will slowly but surely demand two very contradictory things from its viewers. First. so that they clearly understand these systems and their consequences, so that they can empathize with one of their main characters and his motivations. Then ignoring them as background when they're no longer as relevant to the film's narrative. And it is this relationship that the film has with the systems it portrays that I want to explore.

But to do that I'll have to approach Coco's world of the dead as a fantasy world like any other, rather than a fantasy world specifically inspired by Mexican culture. And I'm going to do it for a couple of reasons. Since I come from literally the other side of the world, it's basically impossible for me to be less of an authority on Mexican culture or Latino representation. There are much more qualified people who have written about this aspect of the film and you can find all of that online. But the second and more important reason is that the systems at play in Coco's world are much more universal than the Day of the Dead skin would have you believe.

So I think distancing the film a little from that cultural layer might help highlight the underlying functional parts and bring to the fore the rather insidious implications that arise as a result. In creating the World of the Dead, Coco makes use of one of the most ubiquitous world-building tropes in fiction: interpreting a fantastical setting in a way that directly reflects modern society. Doing this is at least as old as cinema and, if we're honest, as old as storytelling. But modern animated films really like this trope. And Pixar, specifically, I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, I like it.

As a side note, when you put all of these movies next to each other, it makes sense that some patterns would emerge, but it's a little disturbing how one specific part of modern life keeps rearing its ugly head in the same place. in the same way regardless of the plausibility of the interpretation..: Oh...careful...don't worry..: You can't do this! : He's shooting at me! Why are you shooting me?! : Guys... she... : Okay, okay... let me go! : Why do you grab... Oh! Police brutality! Police brutality! What is it with animated films and their obsession with portraying some form of policing?

What does it say about us as a society that it is basically impossible to portray the modern world even in the most abstract sense? without this arising? No, seriously, that wasn't rhetorical. I'm asking, "What does this say about us?" I'm not smart enough to draw conclusions on this specific point without ending up in the fetal position in my bed watching depressing compilations of old vines. : Fresh...laughs Freshavakadoo Je... Freshavakadoo Coco, however, stands out from all that company by choosing to portray a different part of modern life with the kind of detail that most avoid. The World of the Dead in Coco has class warfare and wealth inequality.

It has border control and a selection process. Its citizens have clear rights. And, as is often the case, it is easier to identify those rights specifically because there is a group that is excluded from them. : No photos at an offering, no crossing the bridge. The audience's vehicle for this group, as well as for most of the systems in this world, is Hector, the film's second main character, who we are introduced to as he tries to trick his way into the most important right available. denies his group. : cross the border to the Land of the Living to visit relatives. : Silly flower bridge!

You see, this society operates on two fundamental principles. The photo of the offering, which you can think of as a state-approved ID, and the offerings you receive from those who remember you, which basically act as wealth. So, these two principles lead to a social and economic hierarchy that is also twofold. There is the binary of whether you have this ID or not and therefore whether you are eligible for* many of the most basic rights. Then the "no" group is pushed to the margins and the "yes" group gets to experience the specter of a not-so-equal distribution of wealth.

Where at the top, we have the few who are overflowing with offerings. : They leave me more offerings than I know what to do with. Below them, we have those who make do with the offerings they receive from their living relatives. And deep down, those in Hector's group, who have to get everything they can, whenever they can, and often end up having to share the little they get among themselves. : Thank you so much! : Hey! Save some for me! And by having such clearly defined groups that emerge as a result of the systems around them, the description of their experiences and the way these groups interact with each other ends up being quite believable. : Come on, stop bothering the celebrity...

So, while scenes in the world of the living are more than happy to succumb to the ugly trend of portraying the struggle of the working class through an idyllic lens, look at what happy he is... just your simplicity. . common.. happy.. Victim of child labor! The World of the Dead is less delirious. The people at the bottom don't have fun being at the bottom. Their economic status directly affects all aspects of their lives: their clothing, their health, their living situation, their presence in public spaces, the way they are treated by other citizens, the way they are treated by authority figures and all that. for the worse. : You need to improve your acting, friend.

While in the middle group, two interesting dynamics that tend to occur in our own world are also reflected here. Showing how hierarchy also permeates his thinking. First, there is a constant hope for upward social mobility, as if there was always the latent possibility that the stars would align and take you up a couple of levels to your rightful place. And the reason this idea is so ubiquitous, in the film and in the real world, is because there is, in fact, real upward mobility, but just enough to keep the illusion alive. : If you really want to get to Ernesto, : there's that music contest in the Plaza de la Cruz. : The winner will be able to play at his party.

So if you showcase talent in a way that is considered worthy or in our case maybe you will go viral. If you have some kind of connection, some kind of input. : I need a favor... Or, if by chance you prove to be particularly helpful in some way, then... yes, there might be some mobility here. But otherwise, don't count on it because for the hierarchy to work the way it does, it is based on the fundamental principle of as little mobility as possible for as few people as possible. And this leads to the second dynamic, a delusional “us versus them” narrative.

The way it works is that "we" includes the middle group and those at the top, while "they" are the ones at the bottom. Basically, replicating one version of the binary already causes the systems around it to split. The effect of this, of course, is to dehumanize the bottom group to such an extent that the middle group now only interacts with them in one of two ways. Or making fun of them...: Chorizo! : Hey! It's chorizo! : Haha..very funny, guys.. Or out of pity for them.. : Aww..I don't know what I would do if no one published my photo.

In fact, if the middle group took a moment to examine this narrative, which we all tell ourselves, they would realize that "us" and "them" would be more or less the opposite. Because not only is there no conceivable chance that they will ever receive as many offers as those above. But also, all it would take is one mishap... Let's say, they remove your photo from the offering. : Sorry ma'am, it says here that no one uploaded your photo... Or... you know, a medical emergency for them to basically be in the 'non-binary', fighting to survive. Something those at the top don't have to deal with because it's implied that they don't rely as much on a single offering as everyone else does. : I'm into so many offerings it will overwhelm your blink.

Now, I want to say that while the way the movie portrayed the bottom group was intentional, I don't think these two dynamics I mentioned about the middle group were. Instead, I think they were a byproduct of the movie taking the real-life systems wholesale and simply putting them into its world. Because, while Coco is not an allegory or a one-to-one parallel with any specific situation, such as Animal Farm. It involves using specific real-world images and the systems attached to them to try to evoke very specific experiences. And by importing these images, they're also importing a lot of baggage with them, because these aren't just characters being vaguely restricted from entering or exiting an area.

It is a selection process that determines who passes based on relatively arbitrary rules that are outside the control of the individual. And it's not just about down-on-their-luck characters, but a systemic wealth inequality that's a direct result of many of the same seemingly arbitrary rules. : We are all of us who do not have photos or offerings. There's no family to come home to... : ...almost forgotten, you know? The film has clearly taken inspiration from the real world to create these well-defined systems. Whose requirements inherently favor one part of the population and disadvantage another and whose consequences simply increase the gap between the groups.

And... what does he do with all that? Well not so much. Although the systems technically permeate the entire film, their relevance is primarily focused on the settings. Its consequences are used as a characterization of Hector and his rules as an excuse for the conflict and its macguffins. After that, they're pushed aside to focus on the twists and turns of the story before returning very quickly for the big "...and in the end everything was fine" moment when Hector crosses the border and crosses the bridge. And look, when it comes to priorities, it makes sense to focus on the character drama at the center of your film.

Especially when it's going to culminate in a scene that's so

good

that it single-handedly elevates the movie. But the fact that the film chooses not to address the systems or any of that baggage, in any real way, after relying so much on them for characterization and setup, is not only disappointing... it's downright insidious. Because while the movie doesn't do much with the systems, it ends up saying quite a bit about them. I mean... Did you realize what I said back there? ..before they return very quickly for the big "...and in the end everything was fine" moment when Hector crosses the border and crosses the bridge.

Hector still has to be tested to cross the border at the end of the film. In Coco, we are introduced to an entire section of the population that is marginalized, placed in slums, and basically left to a slow, painful death. And, at the end of the film, the systems that exemplify marginalization are still in place. And presumably that group still exists in exactly the same way and is still left to die in the slums. Coco tells a story with a happily ever after ending where... At first it doesn't

feel

so morbid because when you watch the movie it's quite easy to get carried away by the

feel

-

good

narrative.

That no one outside of our main cast of characters is affected in any way doesn't fit at first. And the big reason for this is that the movie builds on its ideas in such a pernicious way that you don't realize what you're being fed until you've already swallowed it. :..as if you were enjoying it.. : Okay! Are you OK? To see what I mean, we can take a quick look at Wreck-It Ralph. There is a similar scene at the beginning of the film where Ralph was discriminated against at a border crossing. : Step aside, sir. Random security check. : Random my ass!

You always stop me. Just like in Coco, this is used as a key moment of characterization to show us the pressure the system puts on a specific group. In this case, video game villains. : Something to declare? : I hate you : I get it a lot... So if we put them side by side and compare how each story is based on its own scene, we notice a key difference. In Wreck-It Ralph... this is unfair.In Coco... this is unfortunate. The people around Ralph go through as many changes as he does in the movie. The way they treat him at the end is drastically different from the way they treat him at the beginning. : There's no place for you up here.

And an important point here is that as far as the system is concerned, your situation and his role have not changed. He is the same video game villain at the end as he was at the beginning. So for this to happen, those around him had to actively change. : You don't know what it's like to be rejected and treated like a criminal! : Yes, I do... :...that's every day of my life. : Is? He was never the problem. The problem was the way he was classified and treated. :...Ralph! : He'll ruin the party! On top of all this, the film also manages to address the homelessness crisis, which is always a plus.

In Coco, almost the exact opposite happens. The only reason Hector is treated differently in the end is because his situation has changed significantly in the eyes of the system. I mean, look at that! She's almost ready to shut him down because she assumes he's still in 'non-binary'. But instead, her photo is on the ofrenda and now she has that state-approved ID, so she can pass. The bad thing here is not the system that has put countless people in this situation. It is the specific series of events that put Hector among them. : They're forgetting you... : And whose fault is it?!

It's Ernesto and what he did... The problem is the singular bad actor who abused the system and not that the system is inherently ripe for abuse. Nor does it marginalize people based on an arbitrary requirement that automatically puts certain people at a disadvantage. And... look, I'm aware that a happily ever after ending where the only change is that a bad guy at the top no longer exists is a pervasive narrative trope. Both in fiction and...depressingly in the real world:...then you're not black! One of the ways the movie gets away with deflecting all of Hector's problems solely through Ernesto and not having anything else change is by underlying it with another concept.

That being, that all this is just the natural law of the afterlife in this world. The systems we see are out of control and therefore out of change, and that's it. : Hey, it happens to everyone eventually. Now, you may notice that correlating a supernatural, immutable law with our current economic and social systems, which are both very artificial and very changeable, is a bit screwed up, to say the least. And something I'd almost call "cool propaganda" if it was intentional, which, for the record, I don't think it was. It also begs the question: "Why use modern elements and make such a wrong correlation?" As others have pointed out, border control is not necessary.

Hector can't happen no matter what. The bridge doesn't leave him because of magic or whatever. So if it's unnecessary and not going to be explored in the story, why include these fairly accurate depictions of border control and poverty? Instead of leaning into a more magical and mythical tone like other films have done? The polite answer would be that Pixar thought including the modern elements and modifying them would be fun, as they've done so many times before. The more cynical answer would be that they thought having one of the main characters in their Mexican-inspired film struggling to cross a border would constitute a lazy comment and win them points with critics.

Which he did. Oops, how did that get there! However, either answer sheds no light on why it plays out in such a tone-deaf manner. Can you imagine if Wreck-It Ralph ended with his typical montage of positivity but in one of the vignettes he stopped again for a random check and just smiled at the guy like "Oh, you!"... ...and then petted him to a homeless Qbert on the way back to his game? : Hang in there, guys... I don't know... Maybe you can, since that's basically what happens at the end of Coco, a movie that highlighted the negative consequences of their system even more than Ralph.

And I want to be clear: I'm not saying that Wreck-It Ralph is the height of social commentary in fiction. In the end, both films were designed to convey the least problematic and most timid message to achieve the ultimate goal of their corporate overlords. I'm also not saying that stories that choose to portray unjust systems have to end with the overthrow of those systems. Of course not! Stories should be given room to develop in the way that best suits them. But if part of the point you're making is how fucked up these systems are, then you can't just end the story completely ignoring that point like Coco does.

And it's not like they were limited in options on what to do. They may end with a depressing message that systems like that will eventually overwhelm any individual who tries to question them. Or they can give it a dark, satirical twist to highlight which specific people really benefit from these unjust systems. : Griffin, please, can we talk about this? : Bonnie... you'll land on your feet, I know it. They can also keep any of those darker tones, but go a little closer to the hopeful side by making their characters realize that the only way to fight back is to organize.

So, they end up playing their small role as part of a larger movement. In fact, even if we stick to animated films, since they often have different expectations than their live-action counterparts, they still have plenty of room to work with. Take Zarafa as an example. A film that tells the fictional story of the first giraffe to be transported to Europe. A film that also decides to include nothing less than slavery in that story, making it so clear that it begins with it. And, like in Coco, in the end, the main characters are able to get out of their situation, the slaver in their specific story gets what's coming to him, and the movie ends on a happier note even though slavery presumably still exists.

But, if we take a moment to explore how Zarafa engages with his ideas, we notice that the dissonance in his ending is kind of a point because the characters actually failed in their mission. Firstly, the reason for the trip was that Alexandria was under siege by the Turks. Then Basha thought that if he sent him a giraffe as a gift, the king of France could help him. In the end, he doesn't. And the main character's goal is to fulfill the promise he made to the giraffe's mother to take her back to Africa. In the end he can't.

In fact, the specific reason she fails is because, during the time he was trapped as a slave in France, she grew too big to fit in the carriage. And you have to learn that these unjust systems can have direct and irreparable consequences for individuals, but that when you fail, the best thing you can do is keep your head up, adapt and still try to change the world around you for the better. . the best they can. And, despite some pretty big tonal issues in a couple of scenes midway through the film, the story does a good job of maintaining that idea throughout the entire runtime.

All of the main characters have clear principles when it comes to these systems and are able to affect the people around them directly, but, conversely, those in power are largely out of their reach. Ultimately, the kind Basha has priorities that don't include dealing with any of these systems. And the shitty King of France is so out of touch with anyone's reality but his own that all he really does is perpetuate almost every problem the movie raises. So while it seems unlikely that these unjust systems will change anytime soon, Maki is able to metaphorically reverse the situation and move forward.

The story begins with the burning of his village and the erasure of his lineage from the map, abhorrent actions with irreversible consequences, but ends with him founding a new village and ensuring that his culture lives on in some form. On the other hand, modern French films seem to be particularly good at finding that balance between ending on a hopeful note for their characters without trivializing real-world problems in their stories. And I've focused here on examples where unjust systems remain at the end of the films because, as we've discussed, that's what happens in Coco. Which is strange if you think about it because otherwise it fits in quite easily with other Hollywood animated films in the way it concludes its story.

As we know, these mainstream animated films almost universally end with an ideal, or some version of an ideal. In Monsters Inc. they completely overhaul their energy system, going from something that scares kids to something that brings them joy, unless they consider a bad monologue to be scary. In Ratatouille, the critic changes his attitude and they open a new restaurant in Paris where humans and rats can coexist. In Wall-e, the entire human race returns to a post-apocalyptic earth to restart civilization. Making a huge, often almost unbelievable, leap of logic between the moment we fade out at the climax and the moment we fade out at the conclusion is a common technique in these films. : You can imagine what happened next...

And Coco does it too... We cut to a year later and the biggest musical artist in the history of Mexico is canceled in the blink of an eye, Héctor is recognized for his genius musical, and Miguel's family, who for generations have based their entire identity on the sole fact that they prohibit music, have done a 180 degree turn in their position because the matriarch died in a scene in which none of them were present told Miguel that he no longer hates music. . And I don't single them out to criticize them. These leaps of logic have become established staples of the medium and make these films our modern fables.

But they also show us that there is very little to limit how far the filmmakers take their conclusions. These endings often ask us to let our imaginations run wild, to let go of our pessimism, and to dream big so we can take these leaps and see the best outcome, the best version of how these stories can play out. So. when border control remains at the end of the film, that is a choice by the filmmakers that is clearly separate from the desire to maintain the integrity or logic of their setting. Something none of the other movies seem to have a problem with.

Makes you wonder how he stayed in the movie. Didn't it come up as a red flag in any of your history meetings? I would be surprised if it weren't for Pixar's work ethic and the iterative process of how they write these stories. But then, what does that imply? Was it a deliberate choice to leave it there? It was that or an oversight and to be honest, I'm not sure which is worse. And to a certain extent it doesn't matter because they both end up giving us the same thing. A weak middle ground that doesn't address the bitter sweetness of giving its characters a happy ending in a world where many others are still struggling with the issues that affected them, nor a happily ever after that features some fundamental change to the systems in their world. .

On top of this, it also manages to overlook the one thing the two endings have in common. The fact that they both understand that the systems in their stories are inherently unfair. There is no version of Zarafa, as it stands, in which any of the characters were supposed to identify with and simply ignore slavery. And there's no version of Monsters Inc., as it stands, where Sully scares the kids again after seeing the direct effect he has on Boo. And look, it is clear that the film sees the consequences of the systems in its world, since it cannot be denied, it makes the most of that suffering.

But because it never fully engages with how inherently unfair the systems are, Coco ends up becoming the cinematic equivalent of: Aww... I don't know what I would do if no one published my photo... A distant and ultimately, without sense. It's a shame that, at best, it makes the viewer feel good about recognizing it and, at worst, it continues to normalize a very harmful system because, let's make one thing clear, it is a harmful and also unfair system. And by doing that, by appropriating real-world struggles with a specific system of characterization and conflict, and then trying to pass off an ending where the system hasn't changed at all, where the characters still have to care by the possibility of being marginalized, and where officials are almost willing to push them to the limits, like an ideal of happily ever after, Coco reveals an underlying misunderstanding and fundamental disconnection with the very struggles it is appropriating.

So what is the system that Coco is using as a basis for hers? Well, in a nutshell, our border system. Specifically, one that limits or facilitates access to freedom of movement across borders, depending on a couple of factors. Mainly, the country where it says you are from on your passport. And it is important to emphasize that last point because the requirements for this access can vary drastically depending on your passport,Like he wasn't even close. If you come from a "first world" country, then most of the places you are likely to go in your life you basically have no requirements.

You just have to show up with a valid passport and they will stamp your passage. This idea of ​​simply showing up with a valid passport is nothing more than a fantasy to the rest of the world. Remember when I said I come from the other side of the world at the beginning? That wasn't just an excuse not to discuss the Mexican context of the film. It's actually quite relevant to what I want to say here. And that's called... Foreshadowing the son of a bitch! Think of it as the Chekhov gun I planted in the first act.

And now we're on the third, so I have to... do whatever you do with Chekhov's gun in the third act. You see, for those of you who come from "first world" countries, let me put it into perspective. For us who come from "third world" countries, it is basically impossible to go almost anywhere, even for a short period of time, without explicit prior approval in the form of a visa. : Exit visa? : No exit visa, no ticket! One of the main myths that the film subtly perpetuates, and that more people than I expected in "first world" countries quietly believe, is that the system essentially demands the same thing from everyone. : No photo in an ofrenda, no crossing of the bridge.

Which is simply not the case. Now... yeah, we mentioned a little bit that while the requirement in the movie was technically the same for everyone, it inherently puts certain people at an advantage and others at a disadvantage. And we will talk about the direct connection between an individual's wealth and how the system affects them in a moment. And yes, people from "first world" countries sometimes need visas to go to specific places too, but that experience is often simplified to such a point that it's not even comparable. For us, the mere task of applying for a visa is an arduous and surprisingly cumbersome experience that often consists of a series of complicated demands worthy of any fetch quest ever designed to span the length of a role-playing game: bank statements for every account you've had for years.

A document signed by your employer showing that you do, in fact, work for them and/or guaranteeing that you will return and that when you do, they will still want to hire you. A detailed itinerary of what you plan to do each day you are in the country you want to visit. Some random fucking official document you've never heard of, from some random fucking government agency that's only open three days a week, stamped by some random fucking government employee who only comes in one of those three days. To name a few. And of course, which of these is or is not required on your specific application depends on the country you want to go to, as well as the country you are in when applying.

So it's basically procedurally generated bureaucratic nonsense designed to... well, make you question your value as a human being. And we haven't even mentioned the fact that all this is accompanied by a not-too-small non-refundable fee and often includes an interview with some indifferent employee of the embassy, ​​or of the private company hired by the embassy, ​​who often seems to have the final say on whether or not you get that visa, because... ...need it be said at this point that denials are quite common? : Mr. Singh, I have considered your application today, : but I am not satisfied that it meets the requirements of the rules this time. : So, I'm going to reject your request. : Do you understand? : Yes.

Even overlooking the fact that these requirements, in and of themselves, automatically exclude parts of the population, the mere task of going through the experience can often be quite harrowing in ways. For example, there is a lady who works behind the desk at the small gym in my neighborhood who is between 50 and 60 years old, and one day a while ago I walked in and saw that she had combed her hair and was wearing full clothes. make up. Then I told her how nice her new hairstyle looked on her. She told me that she had just finished an interview at the Spanish embassy that morning.

Her son works in Barcelona and she was hoping to visit him during the holidays. She explained to him that she had not seen him and God knows how long since she had already been denied a visa in the past on two different occasions. So, she thought that getting ready that day would make a better impression in the interview. She told me that this time she did a good job of presenting herself the way she knew she was, the way her application couldn't. And I think it's nice that she felt that way, that she was able to get something out of the experience, because... needless to say, she got rejected for the third time.

But... let's say you're lucky. You get the visa and everything goes well. You can now look forward to the ever-pleasant experience of going through passport control, armed with the knowledge that, unlike Coco's ending, you will eventually get the right documents... and that the passport that currently houses that visa will almost always guarantee that you are received with a certain level of suspicion. You know how all the tension at the end of Inception depended on whether I would actually get through passport control or not? I promise you that I have gone through that same tension every time I have gone to passport control.

Handing an official a "third world" passport can often seem like the equivalent of saying, "Hey, by the way, the system considers me a second-rate human being... and you can legally treat me like trash." Over the years, I have become very sensitive to this dynamic due to a particularly complex situation I find myself in. You see, I sound like... well, like that... and you can't see me, but I pass for white. Which means that in my daily life most people I meet tend to assume that I am white and from the West. As a result, it is not unusual for you to automatically gain social privileges that are often reserved for white foreigners.

So, I'm treated with kindness and respect and people just assume that I'm honest, nice and trustworthy and to tell the truth... I'm none of those things... and since I've been lucky enough to travel quite a bit, narrowly, but quite ultimately, I have been put in a position time and time again to see the contrast between how I am treated when officials assume I am white and how I am treated after that assumption. is clarified. And it basically comes down to this crazy whiplash of going from being undeservedly treated as if you can do no wrong to being undeservedly treated as if you can only do evil.

Oooooooor, this could be a very tired passenger, who just got off an 11-hour flight from Honduras to Spain and is currently baffled because airport officials are grilling her about every little detail, and have just revealed to her that the predatory travel agency She probably bought that ticket because she got scammed by so many, all... while a production crew shoves a damn camera in her face and films the whole thing. I don't know, I'm just saying things like that... Anyway... Every time I find myself in a situation where my passport is relevant, I just hold my breath, tense up, and hope that this unknowable wave of suspicion that He's going to hit me, he doesn't annihilate me in the process. and this leads to situations where even the most ordinary interactions are fucking tense.

The first time I went to the UK, I landed at Gatwick airport and the guy at passport control checked my passport for about five minutes. Then, without saying anything to me, he got up and walked over to this other guy, who I guess was his superior because he walked around the counters. And then they just talked about my passport for about 10 minutes, looking at me every few seconds. And I couldn't hear what they were saying, so I just smiled every time they looked at me, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. But, in my mind, I was slowly going crazy.

I thought, "They're going to arrest me, aren't they?" "This is it. This is what it's all come to!" I started remembering all the stories I had heard about people getting stopped at airports for no justifiable reason, which somehow led me to start silently compiling a list of all the sins I had committed in my life, trying to identify the exact ones. moment when everything went wrong. You know... for the autobiography I'll probably write while I'm in jail. But then he came back and nothing happened. He stamped the visa and I left. Basically the same person he was when I approached his counter, except now I have a detailed list of all my sins neatly stored in the back of my mind and an extra 15 minutes of self-loathing and stress to add to my then total. net. .

And automatic suspicion like this from officials is so common that I know I should have already accepted the fact that this is just... ...my reality. But I can not. By the time you get to passport control, you've had to juggle and balance so many nonsense that you're waiting for it all to fall apart. And when it's not like that and you, somehow, manage to cross... I don't know... I don't think I've ever felt joy when crossing a border, only relief. Relief that somehow nothing went wrong. Or Bitterness. I've definitely felt bitterness before. I know that ultimately the suspicion has nothing to do with whether I have the right visa or not, but it's hard not to be bitter when it's so fucking blatant. : Clearly he hasn't taken the exam because he can't talk about it.

I remember one time he was crossing a land border in the Caucasus with three friends from France. Obviously we were all in the same group because our backpacking gear made us stand out. They all went ahead of me and the border official smiled at them, stamped their passports and they crossed. When I handed him mine, his demeanor suddenly changed, which was a fact, he probably thought I was French too. Then he inspected my passport and then he continued to inspect my passport. He flipped to my visa page, then flipped back to the first page and... pulled out one of those diamond inspector looking things and proceeded to methodically go through each page of my passport, one by one, checking the seams. that he held the pages together.

I remember looking at my friends who, at that point, had been there for almost 20 minutes waiting for me to cross next to him, and then looking back at the official, who was still completely fascinated with the details of my passport . and thinking.. The first three people in this group had one of the most coveted passports on the planet and the one you think is fake.. For people from "first world" countries, many travel stories of this type sound like inconveniences usual bureaucratic because to them that's all they are. But for people in the "third world" it is impossible to see the situation as anything other than systemic.

When the difficulty of the most basic tasks is directly linked to the name of the fucking country on the front of your passport and there are entire industries dedicated to classifying said difficulty. You get disillusioned very quickly: Can I say something? : Sure. : I think it's really wrong that your airport is stopping people who are... : ...mostly of color... and people who look different : Listen, let me explain why that might be the case : and why You could see it like this, okay? : The reason any of these people are here is because : we have an immigration problem with them.

Do you remember that woman from Honduras? Let's catch up with her for a minute. So, they go through all of her things, they interrogate her, they do a body search, they take x-rays. And, when they can't find anything wrong with her, they give her a drug test to see if she's taking anything. And although she's clearly baffled by the whole thing, she cooperates completely. :..but when they get the results... And when all that comes out negative and everything goes well, what do they do? They hand her over to the national police for further investigation. They hand her over to the police!

This poor woman probably spent a portion of her savings on this expensive three-day trip to Madrid. And she will spend at least a third of the time being questioned by officials, because of her passport and And all of these stories are simply about visiting a place, it's much worse if you wanted to move, the process can become much more complicated. Also, if she hasn't guessed already, rich people are mostly unaffected by this system. Ignoring the fact that a large portion of the richest people in "third world" countries are directly involved in politics and completely bypass this system with diplomatic passports or timely connections.

The rest simply buy their way out. Investing in another country, for example, relocating your company or opening a new one, will simply give you another passport or put you quite far in the stages of obtaining another one. In reality, it doesn't even have to be that complicated. Simply buy a summer house in Spain or Greece and you will be set. This is so common that I honestly have more confidence in the fact that any rich person in a "third world" country has a more convenient second passport than I do in knowing whether or not I'm going to have a normal bowel movement tonight.

Needless to say, these options are far beyond the reach of ordinary people who have legal channels.completely different to perhaps achieve the same thing. With a government agency, they can go into debt and go through a humiliating and expensive legal process that often takes years and, in most cases, simply leaves them in limbo. Or they can sign a predatory contract with an international company that will keep them trapped in another country, far from their families, working nightmarish jobs for slave wages. If none of these options seem particularly attractive to them, they have the option of staying home, where they can sit at home, contemplate their college degrees, and rot in an economy that is too busy trying to pay off its debt to the IMF and the world.

Bank. Or maybe work in a factory making less than two dollars a day making the t-shirt you're currently wearing. So is it any wonder that people often turn to dangerous alternatives that, if they are lucky enough to survive, will be criticized and treated as criminals? I guess they should have bought that summer house in Spain. Honestly, I could go on and on about this a little longer because there's a lot going on here and it's all fucked up. We haven't even talked about how these systems are affected by capitalism and colonialism, both the historical version that created them and the current version that perpetuates them.

Or the fact that the modern version of passport and border control is only about 100 years old and was initially installed as a temporary post-war measure, but then never dismantled again. Or even about how everything I've told you so far in this part of the video, while honest and true to me, still comes from a relatively privileged place because while today it's a nightmare to have a "third world" passport. , the people who are absolutely screwed by these systems are the stateless or refugees, those who live in occupied lands or territories, as if every day were a violation of human rights for them.

But I've decided not to go into any of that, beyond the brief mentions now, because I realized: 1. I've already talked about this for too long and in an article that, if you remember, is about Coco. . 2. Although these topics are very important, they are not strictly relevant to the point I am making in this silly video. and 3. it would just add a lot of stress I'm already feeling about this section and I would almost definitely end up spending even more days curled up in the fetal position in my bed listlessly watching old vine compilations. Look at all those chickens! and yes, I'm being honest, I think I've reached my quota of those days for the year..

So.. all that being said, I think Coco is about all this shit? Of course not. It's about family and memory and all those beautiful things. But it does rely on very specific images to evoke very specific experiences. As I mentioned, this is not a vague restriction on entering or leaving an area. They are characters who are nervous and agitated while being screened at a border checkpoint for a relatively arbitrary set of requirements that are beyond their control. And now that we've gone over some of the real-world context around these systems... Oh my goodness, would you look at all that baggage in the background?

This is where I feel like I need to re-emphasize that I'm not saying that things like this shouldn't be used in stories, but rather that they should be used. And if the movie is going to rely so heavily on these experiences to characterize Hector's struggles, then I don't think it's going to be much to ask him to interact with them as well. In his decision to quietly put them on the back burner in its second half, Coco ends up becoming a remarkably revealing case study in how easy it is to normalize oppressive systems when you wrap them in feel-good stories.

Particularly those that could be presented as stories of helpless people struggling with the exact same systems they end up normalizing. It's in many of the feel-good narratives that surround us. Both fiction and non-fiction. A success story here of someone who was a refugee and is now a celebrity, a profile there of someone who grew up in the slums only to get rich later in life. As with Hector, the images and experiences of these fights are used primarily for characterization and setting. Something that is incredibly effective at getting us invested because... who doesn't love a good underdog story?

Especially one where a minority group could get some representation. But of course the sleight of hand here is that we feel like we've taken a critical look at the systems presented to us, when in reality we haven't at all. All we've done is get so caught up in the feel-good narrative of someone working through the cracks in the system that we forget to step back and ask the important question of why the system remains what it is. It's an insidious and incredibly effective dynamic because, in our seemingly overly self-aware age, the viewer can now feel good about feeling bad about a shitty system, even though the happily ever after ending they just saw doesn't even* allow for fundamental change to that system, but rather focus on the commitment to removing a single individual from their specific...unfortunate situation. : Enjoy your visit, Hector. : Enjoy your visit, Hector. : Enjoy your.. : vis. : ..that, Hector.