Tag: Archetypes

  • Inside Out (2015): Learning to Incorporate Sadness Through Archetypes

    Inside Out (2015) is one of Pixar’s most thoughtful films. On the surface, it’s a colorful story about emotions inside a little girl’s mind, but underneath it is a sincere attempt to show how our inner world actually functions. Instead of heroes and villains, we follow Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger, and Disgust as they try to guide Riley through the shock of moving to a new city.

    When we look at the film through the lens of the Major Arcana — as psychological and spiritual stages rather than mystical symbols — something interesting appears. The core character arc is not really Riley’s. It is Joy’s. She is the one who moves through will, control, collapse, humility, and integration. Riley mirrors fragments of that journey on the outside, almost as compensation for what Joy is struggling with internally.

    Even with that structural twist, the story still aligns surprisingly well with the archetypes and the film manages to express them in a way that we can grasp intuitively.

    With that perspective in mind, we can now look at Inside Out and trace how these archetypes quietly shape Joy’s journey — and, through her, Riley’s.

    Major arcana archetypes in Inside Out

    The Magician — will, light and manifestation ✅

    Children are like little Magicians: full of potential, casting light into the world. Or in this case, we could simply say Joy — who is literally full of light.

    Joy is presented as a capable manifestor. She creates joyful memories by the truckloads and genuinely believes that happiness can shape Riley’s entire world.

    The Devil — opposition to the Magician ❓

    Very quickly we also meet Sadness, whom Joy immediately interprets as her opposition. She treats Sadness as the problem — as if Sadness were the Devil. But Sadness eventually reveals herself to be deeply beneficial to Riley’s wellbeing, so she isn’t a true Devil.

    However, we could say that it was the Devil archetype that subconsciously manifested Riley’s family moving to San Francisco in such a hectic way — challenging Joy’s will and putting pressure on Riley’s inner world.

    Justice — balance and free will ✅

    Justice works subconsciously, making sure our positive perceptions are balanced with negative ones, which in turn spawns the Devil archetype and manifests both good and bad situations.

    In Riley’s case, the move stirs up fears, doubts, and anxiety. Justice creates that balancing tension so Riley has genuine free will in deciding how she will respond.

    The High Priestess — object of inspiration ✅

    Joy is basically in love with Riley and sees her as her object of inspiration. Riley is the reason for everything Joy does. The scene where wide-eyed Joy lovingly watches Riley skating is the clearest expression of this archetype.

    The Hermit — isolation ✅

    After moving to San Francisco and entering a new school, Riley feels completely alone.

    Situations like these often arise through fears and doubts that separate us from others. They begin the slow process of individuation — the path of becoming our own person.

    The Lightning — a shock of light ❌

    There is no clear strike of inspiration that captures Joy’s or Riley’s attention and gives them a new idea to strive toward. The goal throughout the film is fairly simple: get Riley “back to normal.”

    So Lightning as sudden inspiration doesn’t really appear here.

    The Star — wayshower, hope ✅

    Joyful memories serve as the Star. They give Joy direction, orientation, and hope — reminders of what Riley “used to be.”

    The Empress — elated self, arrogance, inflated ego, naivety ✅

    Joy is arrogant in believing that happiness alone is what Riley needs to adapt to her new world. She truly thinks she knows best and cannot imagine that Sadness might have any rightful place.

    The Emperor — control ✅

    Because she believes she knows best, Joy tries to control Sadness. She pushes her away from the console and tries to prevent her from influencing anything at all.

    The Wheel of Fortune — the ups and downs ✅

    When Riley meets her new classmates, Joy’s arrogance backfires. In trying to keep Sadness out, everything descends into chaos and both Joy and Sadness are thrown to the “back of the mind.”

    The Wheel of Fortune turns in the unwanted direction.

    Strength — force, manipulation ✅

    Joy repeatedly pushes Sadness away from the core memories to prevent them from becoming sad.

    She also forcefully manipulates the dream production studio in order to wake Riley up — just so the “train of thought” can start again. Strength appears as pushing, forcing, and manipulating outcomes.

    The Moon — twilight, illusion ✅

    Results gained by force are always temporary — therefore illusory.

    Riley wakes up. The train of thought moves. But soon, because of the crisis caused by that very act, train crashes. Symbolically, Riley also wakes in the middle of the night — literally inside the twilight of the Moon archetype.

    The Hanged Man — the crashing of illusions, new viewpoints ✅

    Still not humbled, Joy keeps pushing Sadness away and tries to fix everything alone and reach the headquarters through the recall chute. It fails drastically, and she crashes into the memory dump.

    There, she finally sees the truth about Sadness — understands her importance — and breaks down into tears. This is the first real shift of viewpoint.

    The Hierophant — truth told ❌

    There are no hidden secrets to be confessed and no great revelation scenes. So this archetype is mostly absent.

    The Sun — sincerity ✅

    Normally, after truth comes out, the ego is softened and some humility shows, we see heartfelt conversation. Here, something different happens.

    Since Joy learns the truth while browsing memories in the dump, her sincere conversation is actually with herself. But sincerity is still present — just internal.

    Death — ego death ✅

    Joy breaks down crying, showing humility and the end of her rigid ego stance. Later, Riley mirrors this — breaking down in front of her parents. Both surrender to truth rather than control.

    Judgement / Resurrection — rebirth ❓

    Rebirth is implied rather than explicitly shown. After Joy’s breakdown, she is reborn in a quieter way — initiated into her true, more loving higher self.

    The Two Paths (Lovers) — determination for good/bad ✅

    Once Joy understands how to help Riley, she becomes determined to return to headquarters, even from the bottom of the mind. She refuses to let Bing Bong’s doubts stop her.

    Determination appears as a decisive inner choice for good.

    The Chariot — uninhibitedness, intuition ✅

    After the death of her arrogant ego, Joy begins thinking clearly again. She finds a creative plan, escapes the dump, gathers Sadness, and returns to headquarters — where she allows Sadness to take control.

    Temperance — lightness and moderation ✅

    When the mind is free from fear and resistance, everything becomes lighter. Joy symbolically “flies” back to headquarters while carrying Sadness — a version of the mythic “magic flight.”

    The World — reconnection with the divine (true love) ✅

    Joy becomes love — and is met with love from Sadness in return. The inner world expands and becomes richer.

    Riley is also embraced by love from her parents. Returning to herself, she reconnects with her new environment and indirectly even helps heal the emotional gap in the family.

    Closing thoughts

    Overall, Inside Out works with the archetypes beautifully. Most of them appear in organic, believable ways. Still, there are a few general observations that help us see where the film simplifies things.

    Because emotions are literally shown as “in control,” Riley sometimes appears as if she has no free will. A more accurate depiction of the subconscious would probably show all the emotions speaking at once — each offering its perspective — and then Riley choosing which voice to follow. That would have aligned even more closely with how the archetypes actually work in life.

    Also, a large portion of the film is simply about Joy and Sadness trying to get back to headquarters. Not much truly shifts archetypally until the fall into the memory dump, which is where the story finally deepens and everything begins to transform.

    Still, the core idea — that sadness needs to be integrated rather than suppressed — is, I think, genius. And the way the film handles that realization is also executed beautifully!

    Thanks,

    Ira

  • Mortal Engines (2018): Putting the Derailed Premise Back on the Mud Track

    Mortal Engines opens with one of the most imaginative concepts in modern steampunk cinema — cities on wheels, devouring each other in a post-apocalyptic ecosystem of predator and prey. The idea is visual dynamite. You can almost taste the diesel fumes, hear the creak of steel teeth as one city swallows another.

    And yet, after this thunderous opening, the movie veers into strange, disconnected territory. The predator-city concept fades into the background as we follow a revenge arc that could have been set in any generic dystopia, a sentimental undead assassin with confusing motivations, and a conveniently introduced fortress city that arrives without setup. By the time the climax rolls around, we’ve gone from grinding gears and political maneuvering to a quantum-powered doomsday weapon — a tonal leap so jarring it snaps the dieselpunk fantasy in half.

    The heart of the premise — the politics, survival, and ruthlessness of predator cities — gets lost under a heap of side plots. Which is a shame, because with the right focus, Mortal Engines could have been something unforgettable.

    A Love Story That Devours

    Instead of scattering the audience’s attention, the story could have anchored itself to a single, driving throughline: a classic love story, tangled in the politics of predator cities.

    The film could open much like the original — a medium-sized predator city hunting down a smaller one. The protagonist, a young captain’s apprentice, makes the decisive move that captures the prey (the magician archetype). After the victory, he convinces the crew to pull ashore for a much-needed rest, docking against a beautiful, stationary shore city. He signals peace with white lights… but positions the city so its treads crush the first shoreline house — a symbolic reminder that even diplomacy in this world begins with a bite.

    Tensions are high as diplomats are sent in. Here, the apprentice meets a woman who will upend his world (the high priestess) — radiant, sharp, and belonging to a city too beautiful to devour. To impress her, he later captures a third city, basking in his own bravado. But she soon tires of his arrogance and returns to her former lover. Stung and furious, the apprentice engineers a false flag attack from her home city, giving him the excuse to devour it.

    His triumph turns sour. Diplomats resent him, and the great metropolis of London sends him cold warnings. With enemies closing in, he is eventually forced to seek asylum in a massive fortress city with walls like Shan Guo, enduring ridicule for his retreat. Cornered (the hanged man archetype), he begins to reckon with the destruction he has caused. When he meets his former love again — a survivor of the city he destroyed — he apologises (the death archetype). They share a quiet, sunlit moment of truth (the sun archetype). She offers a hint of warmth, but nothing more for now.

    Redemption on the Edge of Devouring

    With London’s forces advancing and all seemed lost, the protagonist does not surrender to despair. Instead, tempered by loss and humbled by the consequences of his pride, he devises a bold plan—not to fight with sheer force but to outthink the predator city system itself.

    Drawing on his knowledge of the cities’ mechanics and his hard-earned understanding of alliances and survival, he forges unexpected coalitions among smaller settlements, uniting prey cities that had long lived in fear and isolation. He transforms the landscape from a battlefield of consumption into a network of cooperation, a new kind of ecosystem where survival depends on mutual support rather than endless devouring.

    In a climactic maneuver, he leads this alliance to outwit London’s juggernaut—not by meeting steel with steel, but by exploiting vulnerabilities in the predator city’s overreach. Through clever strategy and a willingness to sacrifice personal glory for the greater good, he stops London’s advance and ignites the first flicker of a new order.

    His personal redemption is complete—not through revenge or conquest, but through wisdom, humility, and love that endures beyond the carnage.

    Why This Works

    By centering the story on a single, emotionally charged romance, every hunt, every diplomatic move, and every battle becomes tied to the protagonist’s personal arc. The love story doesn’t exist in the background — it is the story. The predator cities aren’t just set dressing; they are the means, the obstacle, and the weapon in a war of pride and longing.

    This version would keep the dieselpunk spectacle while giving the audience a reason to care about the outcome beyond “who wins the fight.” Pride and love would drive the plot, the politics would feel sharper, and the final tragedy would land with the force of steel jaws closing. Instead of destruction, this ending offers hope—a protagonist who learns and grows, forging a future that breaks the cycle of endless consumption.

    In short, it would give Mortal Engines what the original sorely lacked: a heartbeat that could be heard over the roar of the engines.

    Thanks,

    Ira

  • The House (2017) – The Perfect Archetypal Script!

    The House (2017) is a suburban crime-comedy starring Will Ferrell and Amy Poehler, built on a interesting premise: two desperate parents turn “their” basement into an illegal casino to pay for their daughter’s college tuition. Despite that promising concept, the finished film received mixed reviews, with critics divided over whether it delivered on its comedic promise and if wagering a substantial bet on rather chaotic scenes paid off.

    I say, they’re just a bunch of jackasses who don’t appreciate a good script, right? The House actually had all the essential ingredients: the mundane setup, the darkness, the motivation, the rising tension, the envelope-pushing chaos, the fallout, the attempt to set things right, and the final push toward redemption. In other words, whether intentionally or not, it basically hit all the beats of the Major Arcana, our favourite storytelling model.

    So lets point them out then.

    Major arcana archetypes in The House

    The magician, the will and the manifestor ✅

    As a family, they successfully manifest their daughter’s college acceptance—and have the will to see it through.

    The devil ✅

    Bob, the town council member, denies the scholarship

    Justice – Free will to make decision ✅

    Scott and Kate (the parents) are forced to face the consequences and make a choice—how to come up with the tuition money, and what they’re willing to risk.

    The high priestess – The inspiration for the unknown ✅

    Scott and Kate are guided by their daughter’s yet untapped potential—quietly motivating their every reckless move.

    The Hermit – The isolation ✅

    After the scholarship is denied, Scott and Kate are left to navigate the problem alone—cut off, with no support in sight.

    The lightning – The idea ✅

    In a symbolically flashy Vegas setting with Frank, the wild idea strikes—run an illegal casino to solve it all.

    The empress – The infatuation ✅

    The group becomes enamored with their new venture—seduced by the thrill, blind to the consequences.

    The wheel of fortune – The ups and downs ✅

    Running an illegal casino in a suburban basement brings chaos—and the trio rides every high and low that comes with it.

    The star – The hope ✅

    With every small success growing into a bigger one, so does their hope of eventually getting their daughter into college.

    The emperor – The controller ✅ The Strength ✅

    Faced with spiraling chaos, they clamp down hard—asserting dominance, even if it means slicing off a cheater’s finger to send a message.

    The moon – The illusion ✅

    They don’t create real wealth—only the illusion of it, wrapped in flashing lights and false confidence.

    The hanged man – The balancing out ✅

    Bob, the town council member, confiscates their money—suspending their momentum and tipping the scales back.

    The hierophant – The sincerity ✅ The Sun – Heart to heart ✅

    After all the chaos—and some admittedly offputting bloodshed—Scott and Kate share a genuine moment with their daughter, and even Frank finds a bit of truth with his wife.

    The death – The apology ✅ The judgement – resurrection ✅

    Every apology is a small death of the ego—and Scott and Kate face theirs as they finally apologize to their daughter. After that, they’re reborn into their higher selves—which shows the very next moment.

    Meanwhile, Frank’s house burns down, symbolizing the death of his old self, while also sparking a small resurrection in his relationship with his wife.

    The world – The universe ✅

    Just when all seems lost, the universe steps in—Officer Chandler arrives and sides with them.

    The Two paths (lovers) – Determination ✅

    Together, they make their choice—to stand united and fight back against Bob.

    The chariot – The execution, the purpose ✅

    Fueled by determination, they charge ahead and carry out their revenge swiftly and with purpose.

    The temperance ✅

    After successfully dropping their daughter off at college, Scott and Kate finally slow down to savor the fruits of their wild adventure —the will, the hope, the strength, and the determination. The double parker didn’t even know what hit him.

    So, beneath the surface of this loud, messy comedy lies a surprisingly structured narrative that hits every major arcana beat. All the archetypes—The Magician, The Devil, The Emperor, The Star, and the rest—are practically embodied in The House’s chaotic journey. Maybe critics missed the bigger picture. This movie isn’t just a wild ride of absurdity—it’s a cleverly disguised tarot spread, and that’s why I think it’s way underrated.

    The True Story Score: 9/10, because of the rather hectic execution in some parts.

    Ira