Disney’s Moana is one of those rare animated films that feels timeless the moment you watch it. From its lush animation and breathtaking water effects to its heartfelt songs and vibrant cultural grounding, it truly soars on almost every level. Moana herself stands as one of Disney’s strongest heroines—courageous, compassionate, and grounded in her people’s traditions while yearning to discover the wider world. The movie is endlessly watchable, emotionally rich, and bursting with life.
Yet beneath all its strengths, there lies one structural weakness in the story that subtly undercuts its tension: the “chosen one” trope. It’s the one crack worth pointing out. One might find other reasons to critique the story, like the expositions, the MacGuffin (Heart of Te Fiti), and the ungrounded magic logic, however I think those were put together rather well. Well, maybe another day.
The Problem of Being Chosen
In the film’s original version, the ocean selects Moana when she is only a child, presenting her with the Heart of Te Fiti in a way that feels definitive and irreversible. From that point forward, Moana is marked as the destined savior of her people, having no free-will of her own. While inspiring on the surface, this removes much of the story’s suspense. If the ocean itself has chosen Moana, then her success feels preordained. Every trial she faces is softened by the audience’s knowledge that she cannot truly fail—the ocean is her safety net, guiding and even rescuing her when danger looms.
The result is that Moana, a character who ought to be defined by her choices and resilience, becomes strangely passive at times. The ocean’s intervention robs her of some of her agency, and the story loses some of its edge.
Reintroducing Ambiguity
The solution lies in subtle changes at the very beginning of the film—changes that restore uncertainty, choice, and tension to Moana’s journey. What if, instead of the ocean directly choosing her, the possibility of her destiny were left ambiguous?
In this reimagined version, when Moana is only two years old, she toddles down to the shore and finds her grandmother dancing with the ocean. Moana giggles and joins in, imitating her grandmother’s playful movements. But then something unexpected happens: the ocean responds to Moana more noticeably than it ever did to Grandma. The waves shimmer, curl, and dance back at her. Grandma is delighted but also intrigued, sensing something unusual yet not daring to call it fate.
Later, when Moana is about six or seven, another moment deepens the mystery. She plays by the beach, chasing shells and laughing as the waves swell toward her. For a heartbeat, the water seems to beckon her in, but Moana grows nervous and runs back home as the tide recedes. When the waves pull back, Grandma notices something remarkable: the Heart of Te Fiti now lies in the sand, glimmering exactly where Moana had been playing moments before.
Moana does not see it. She has already dashed away. Grandma, however, picks it up and studies it, a look of awe and wonder on her face. In that moment, she begins to suspect—but never truly knows—that Moana may be destined for something greater. She becomes the silent steward of the stone, holding on to it until Moana is ready to choose the path for herself.
Agency Restored, Ending Enriched
With these simple adjustments, the story regains its essential tension. Moana is not unshakably “chosen” from the start. The ocean doesn’t force destiny upon her—it merely responds. The ambiguity allows the audience to share Grandma’s uncertainty: is Moana truly the one, or is it all coincidence?
This reframing transforms Moana’s journey into one of agency rather than inevitability. She is not carried along by fate; she earns her triumph. When she confronts Te Kā, restores the Heart, and sails home, the victory is all the more powerful because it was never guaranteed.
Most importantly, the emotional payoff is enriched. By letting the ocean respond to Moana rather than the other way around, her actions, bravery, and growth carry the weight of the story. The conclusion—her celebrated return—feels fully earned, not just foretold.
In this version, Moana remains the dazzling masterpiece we know, but with one key difference: its heroine shines even brighter because she wins not by destiny, but by choice.
Thanks,
Ira