Arcaneya

Tag: Disney

  • Frozen (2013): Anna’s Archetypal Arc — Pitfalls and a Small but Powerful Fix

    Released in 2013, Frozen quickly became one of Disney’s most beloved modern classics. It won awards, filled theaters, launched endless merchandise, and embedded its songs into global culture. For many viewers, it felt heartfelt, empowering, and emotionally sincere — especially in how it replaced “true love’s kiss” with the love between sisters.

    At the same time, some viewers sensed that something in the storytelling didn’t fully click. Elsa seemed strangely passive for someone with so much power. Anna’s journey felt almost too easy. Big dramatic turns came from magical accidents rather than from moral choices. The film clearly wanted to talk about fear, love, and acceptance — yet the path toward those ideas sometimes felt indirect, like the story was avoiding something deeper.

    Instead of judging the movie or trying to “fix” it outright, it helps to look more closely.

    When we place Frozen inside the lens of the Major Arcana — understood not as occult symbolism, but as stages of psychological and spiritual development — certain patterns become visible. We begin to see why the movie resonates so strongly on one level, while feeling strangely incomplete on another.

    Two discoveries stand out right away.

    First, Elsa functions less like a protagonist and more like unpredictable weather — powerful, dramatic, but largely outside her own control. Second, because the story shifts its weight onto Anna, her arc becomes warm and likable, yet never fully transformative. She is lovable from the beginning, and lovable at the end — which softens the impact of “true love” as a culmination.

    Looking through archetypes gives clarity. We can trace where the film aligns beautifully with mythic structure, where it hesitates, and where it quietly hands responsibility away from the characters and toward fate.

    With that in mind, let’s walk through Frozen archetype by archetype — beginning with the Magician.

    Major arcana archetypes in Frozen

    The Magician — will, light and manifestation ✅

    Both girls are depicted as little magicians from the start. Elsa especially — but Anna is not far behind at all, since she manifests for herself a play-party with Elsa. Anna also clearly casts joy and happiness into the world.

    The Devil — opposition to the Magician ✅

    Without the Magician first casting or manifesting anything, the Devil would have nothing to oppose and challenge. Elsa is placed into the Devil’s role here, when her powers unintentionally oppose Anna’s joy and happiness and create danger where there should have been playfulness.

    Justice — balance and free will, confusion ✅

    Justice subconsciously balances our positive and negative thoughts. When the character is not outwardly negative, the environment opposes and challenges them, producing opportunity for free will. Confusion is allways the state from which choices are being made.

    Because Anna is suddenly placed in a position where love is withheld and doors are closed, she is forced to respond and interpret what is happening — which is why she seems confused and unsettled when Elsa shuts her out.

    The Hermit — isolation ✅

    When Elsa’s powers go out of control and the parents suggest isolation, that also leaves Anna isolated from Elsa. Her loneliness was archetypaly inevitable as both sisters retreat into separate emotional worlds.

    The High Priestess — object of inspiration ✅

    The object of Anna’s inspiration arrives in the form of Prince Hans, who appears charming, attentive, and ready to listen.

    However, Elsa also acts as Anna’s High Priestess. She is the older sister and heir to the throne — someone Anna deeply respects and longs to reconnect with, even when she doesn’t fully understand her.

    The Lightning — a shock of light ❓

    Anna is quickly impressed by Prince Hans. This sudden love arrives exactly like a bolt of lightning in the middle of a dull, mundane night — fast, bright, intoxicating.

    However, Anna’s and Hans’s love story does not become the leading arc, which leaves this lightning strike feeling more like an temporary emotional jolt.

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

    After Anna spends some time with Hans, she already thinks they should get married. Her joy expands into overconfidence, and she mistakes emotional excitement for destiny — exactly like a naive Empress.

    The Wheel of Fortune — the ups and downs ✅

    Elsa acts as the common-sense person here and forbids Anna to get married so irresponsibly fast.

    Anna perceives Elsa as the “gatekeeper lion” to her happiness. The Wheel turns, and Anna feels thrown from joy down into frustration.

    Strength — force, manipulation ✅

    Anna wants to tame that gatekeeper lion forcefully. She gets angry with Elsa — and this turns out disastrous for everybody.

    Note: Elsa’s uncontrollable outburst of powers is a direct consequence of Anna’s frustration and anger, therefore Anna should take responsibility for her emotions at some point. Yet the most she says to Elsa is: “I’m sorry for what happened.”

    Note: Later, Anna tries to rather lovingly convince Elsa at her ice castle that they should work together to resolve the issue — as she gets hit in the heart with ice. To make this part and the rest of the story more believable, Anna should have been more forcefully pressing Elsa again.

    The Star — wayshower, hope ✅

    Childhood memories of Elsa guide Anna and give her hope that everything will be all right. Even when abandoned and betrayed, she still believes there is goodness at the core of things — and that her sister can be reached.

    The Moon — twilight, illusion ❓

    Nobody does any real lying to others or themselves, and there is almost no manipulation — so there are practically no illusions.

    However, Hans does hide his lack of love from Anna, creating a softer, subtler version of Moon energy — deception wrapped in romance.

    The Hierophant — truth told, surfaced ✅

    Hans finally admits that he is not in love with Anna. The mask drops. Truth surfaces harshly leaving Anna exposed and humiliated.

    The Emperor — control ❌

    After Hans denies Anna love, she does not try to bend reality to her will or manipulate him into liking her that would a person who is yet to develop the heart inevitably do. It is obvious that Anna is already respectfull to other people’s realities.

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

    As Anna’s illusions about Hans crash, she is forced to view her reality from another viewpoint: she wasn’t chosen, she wasn’t loved, and she misread the signs.

    Note: this actually comes as a big shock to the audience, since Anna herself didn’t do anything particularly negative. Her heart is pure and she is a lovable person.

    The Sun — sincerity, heart-to-heart ❌

    After illusions collapse and the ego gets humbled, there is usually time for a heart-to-heart conversation or sincere expression that would put some sun in people’s hearts.

    However, Anna’s heart is frozen at this point in the story, so the usual warmth, openness, and clarity simply cannot arrive.

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

    Anna has two choices: run into Kristoff’s arms to selfishly help herself, thinking he can thaw her heart — or help Elsa, who is almost killed by Hans.

    She is determined for the latter, choosing love as action rather than as personal rescue.

    Death — ego death ✅

    Anna freezes, which is symbolic of dying.

    However, this archetype points primarily to ego death. Anna doesn’t openly do any apologizing or explicit forgiving — which is normally what hurts the ego — yet her actions imply that she forgave Elsa and therefore herself.

    Judgement / Resurrection — rebirth ❌

    Anna is thawed by Elsa and therefore resurrected. But she is merely returned to her previous already positive and lovable self — not transformed into a new self capable of consciously understanding true love.

    The Chariot — uninhibitedness, intuition ❌

    After ego death, Anna should be able to achieve her goals with ease. However, she doesn’t have any other goals left to achieve. It is Elsa who saves the day instead — meaning the Chariot skips past her.

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

    Anna lovingly buys Kristoff a new sleigh at the end and is rewarded with a kiss in return. There is a sense of reconnection and completion.

    The girls open the castle gates, reconnecting with the town, and the world becomes open and flowing again.

    Temperance — lightness and moderation ✅

    The “newly” achieved lightness on their feet is represented by the skating at the end. It symbolizes a return to balance, playfulness, and moderation, even if deeper transformation hasn’t fully happened.

    Closing thoughts

    By the time we reach the end, it becomes clear that the emotional center of the story rests on Anna’s shoulders. Her kindness carries the narrative, and the final message — love expressed through self-giving — is sincere and moving.

    But because the film leans so strongly into accident and inevitability, much of Anna’s journey unfolds without real agency. The icy wound to her heart comes from outside, not from inner conflict, and it drives the plot forward while leaving her with very little to wrestle with. The passivity that surrounds Elsa quietly spreads to Anna, and the stakes begin to feel more like conditions to endure than choices to grow through.

    Symbolically, a frozen heart works best when it reflects something internal: resentment, stubbornness, wounded pride, refusal to listen. Here, it becomes a magical consequence instead. The film does course-correct at the end by rejecting the idea that salvation comes from demanding love from someone else — it insists that love must be lived, not acquired. That idea is strong.

    Yet Anna already lives that way from the beginning. When she sacrifices herself, it feels consistent, admirable, and moving — but not transformative. She doesn’t cross a difficult inner threshold; she simply stays true to who she already was.

    A small shift would have deepened everything. If Anna’s heart had been frozen in the moment of pushing, insisting, and refusing to hear Elsa — rather than in a moment of care — then thawing it through selfless action would complete a real inner arc. The same story beats could remain, but the meaning beneath them would change: not just endurance, but responsibility; not just affection, but awakening.

    As it stands, Frozen gestures toward initiation, brushes it beautifully, and then chooses comfort. What remains is a film that is heartfelt, resonant, and undeniably beloved — but one whose archetypal journey never quite steps into its full depth.

    Thanks,

    Ira

  • 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

  • Wish (2023): Polishing the outline: Why Dreams Should Break — and How Disney’s Story Could Shine Even More

    Disney’s Wish arrived with a dazzling premise: a kingdom where people surrender their deepest dreams to a benevolent ruler, trusting he’ll grant them one by one. The opening minutes feel like pure magic, a reminder of why Disney once defined the animated musical. But as the story unfolds, the enchantment starts to fracture. The film quickly loses its sense of mystery and tension, trading wonder for predictability, and by the finale, its emotional core feels as hollow as the glowing orbs that hold its wishes.

    At the heart of the problem is how the story chooses to tell its tale. Magnifico, the king, is introduced as a near-instant villain, his charm stripped away within minutes. Rather than leaving Asha — and the audience — uncertain about his true motives, the movie paints him as controlling and sinister from the outset, making her rebellion an obvious path instead of a difficult choice. The wish system, too, is left frustratingly shallow. Why do people forget their wishes once they’re surrendered? Are these dreams dangerous? Or is Magnifico using them for something more sinister? The movie barely touches these questions, leaving its central idea weightless. And while Star is adorable, it’s a sparkly mascot without real narrative weight, more merchandise than muse.

    A more definitive Outline

    What Wish needed was to lean into the very fear that drives its world — the fear of heartbreak, of failure, of dreams shattering. The people of Rosas don’t just hand over their wishes because the King asks; they give them up because they’re terrified of what it would mean to chase them and fail. In this version of the story, surrendering a wish explicitly means surrendering a piece of your soul — the daring, vulnerable part that hopes. That’s why they forget their dreams: they’ve traded away the very part of themselves that remembers how to long for something. Magnifico, calm and persuasive rather than overtly sinister, presents himself as a protector: “I guard these dreams so your souls remain unbroken.” It’s a compelling lie because he believes it himself. The perfect kingdom exists not because of his benevolence, but because its people are hollowed-out, their ambition and risk locked away along with their orbs — fragments Magnifico quietly feeds upon to sustain his power and the kingdom’s false harmony.

    Asha’s arc transforms when rooted in this deeper idea. On her eighteenth birthday, she still goes forward with surrendering her wish — a dream tied to her beloved grandfather — but carries a flicker of unease from Magnifico’s carefully measured words. When Star arrives, it’s not just to sprinkle charm over the plot, but to show her visions of what dreams truly are: messy, painful, and transformative. Asha sees that failure, heartbreak, and even shattered wishes can lead people to grow stronger, to find new paths, to discover parts of themselves they never would have without taking the risk. She realizes that the so-called “dangerous” wishes Magnifico locks away are the ones that matter most — not because they threaten the kingdom, but because they make life worth living. They are the catalysts for growth and understanding.

    In the climax, this theme comes to a head when Asha must sacrifice her own wish to stop Magnifico, willingly letting it shatter to free everyone else’s. She feels the heartbreak of losing her dream, but rises from it, renewed and determined to chase life without waiting for it to be handed to her. As the freed wishes return to the people, the kingdom awakens from its complacency, remembering their ambitions, their risks, and their power to dream again. The final message is clear: a wish isn’t something to lock away or wait for someone else to grant. It’s something to chase, even if it breaks you — because rising from a broken dream can lead you somewhere greater.

    This approach doesn’t discard what worked about Wish. The magical premise remains, as do the songs, the charm, and the wonder. But by shifting the tone from predictable hero-versus-villain toward a story about fear, risk, and resilience, Disney’s 100th anniversary feature could have been more than a nostalgic collage. It could have stood alongside the true Disney classics, reminding audiences that the beauty of a wish isn’t in its guarantee — it’s in the courage to hold onto it, even when it breaks.

    Thank you,

    Ira