Lots of adults think that fairy tales are just for children, despite the fact that when the Grimms Brothers were collecting stories as an academic pursuit, their primary goal was to create an anthology of German folklore and cultural heritage for scholars and adults, not for bedtime stories. They saw their work as a scholarly pursuit to preserve stories that were being lost, and the collection was initially aimed at an educated audience, with later versions being adapted for child readers.
Lots of adults also think that animated films are just for children and won’t bother to include them in their film festival calendars, but I find them important reminders of how the perspectives of adults and children are inextricably interwoven, and cross-influential. In their 48th edition, the Mill Valley Film Festival (“MVFF”) maintains a filmic balance between the young and the old, admittedly with more curatorial options for adults, though I have to hand it to the MVFF team for organizing HOOPLA! where parity is achieved with pony rides, a petting zoo, balloon sculptures, face painting, and treats from Shake Shack—all included with a kid’s (and their parents’) movie ticket!
Arco (2025)—K.D. Davis writes: “In the year 2932, young Arco lives in an idyllic Garden of Eden in the clouds above Earth. He speaks the languages of the birds and can’t wait to soar through time and space like his parents and sister, but he’s too young to fly. Sneaking out of the house one day, he dons a flight suit and leaps into space, leaving rainbow trails in his wake. Transported back in time to 2075, Arco encounters a world of food shortages and wildfires. There, he meets Iris, a lonely girl living with her baby brother and gentle 'Nannybot' caregiver, Mikki. The two children share a deep bond, discovering universal secrets—and love. Produced by actor Natalie Portman, director Ugo Bienvenu’s visionary film, suitable for ages 8-118, evokes the best of Studio Ghibli and features Arnaud Toulon’s gorgeous orchestral score. Following its Cannes premiere, Arco won the top prize at Annecy. Magically unforgettable!”
For its West Coast premiere, Arco’s multi-layered narrative has much to offer both children and adults. Speaking to the threats of climate change and the absence of parenting in a technologically governed world, it is likewise an interesting timeloop narrative where the future offers inspiration and guidance to the past. There is also a nod to Greek mythology. Iris, like her brother Hermes, was a renowned and swift messenger for the gods, serving as a crucial link between the heavens and earth, delivering divine messages and performing other important tasks. As the Greek goddess of the rainbow, her flight along the rainbow bridge symbolized hope and the connection between the divine and mortal realms.
French actor Louis Garrell was among the voice actors for the original French version of Arco, which premiered at the Cannes Film Festival this past May, but a high-profile English-language dub of the film was later created for its North American release by the distributor Neon, featuring Natalie Portman, Will Ferrell, America Ferrera, Flea, Mark Ruffalo and Andy Samberg.
As an adult viewer, I had to let go of a lot of prejudicial presumptions in order to eventually enjoy Hola Frida and to accept and appreciate it on its own merits. In my early involvement with Chicano politics, the phrase “the commodification of Frida Kahlo” ran rampant in discussions of her appropriation in American culture. Though it’s difficult to pinpoint who exactly came up with the phrase, over the decades it spoke to the commercialization of her image, which has been widely marketed on merchandise ranging from t-shirts to handbags. Cristina Kahlo, the artist's grandniece, has directly addressed the issue. In June 2024, she was quoted saying, "They have turned Frida into a brand". Journalists, such as Jenny Valentish in a 2018 Guardian article titled "The commodification of Frida Kahlo: are we losing the artist under the kitsch?" drew attention to the trend, as did an op ed at Afterellen. But these are academic critiques focused on the increasing use of Kahlo's likeness for commercial, rather than artistic or revolutionary, purposes.
A separate trajectory of critical concern can be pursued with Hola Frida, which regards modes of international adaptation (since the film was based on a Quebecois children’s book Frida, c'est moi) and issues of wider audience appeal. Hola Frida skillfully negotiates and succeeds on both fronts. To be accessible to a broader audience, especially young children in the U.S. and internationally (the film was independently produced by companies in Canada and France for international distribution), the filmmakers chose a bilingual approach. Using Spanglish avoids relying on subtitles, which can be a barrier for younger viewers. Much like Dora the Explorer, the film uses occasional Spanish words in the English version to offer a gentle, context-based introduction to the language for children. This approach is meant to be educational and authentic without alienating non-bilingual viewers. For Spanish-speaking audiences, however, a separate Spanish-language version of the film was made available. This was screened during its initial festival run, offering a more authentic experience for Spanish-speaking viewers.
So once I got over my adult self, I could appreciate the film’s vibrant exploration of indigenous influences, color, and the redemptive power of art over pain, an inspiring lesson for adults as well as children.
