“Theology of the Body for Angsty Tweens”
A Review of Mass by Nick Olszyk
Distribution Service: Disney+
Year: 2022
MPAA Rating, PG
USCCB Rating, Not rated at the time of this review
Reel Rating, Four Reels
When I was seventeen, I saved up my meager allowance for
two months and secretly bought the 2004 Sports Illustrated swimsuit magazine,
featuring my favorite supermodel Marissa Miller and Sophia Vergara, then a
virtual unknown, in a Corona beer pullout poster. When my mother discovered it under
my pillow, she called me downstairs and ceremoniously immolated the periodical in
a frying pan. It did little to assuage my raging hormones but created a bit of
tension between us for some time.
The
fraught relationship between parents and teenagers has long been a subject of cinema,
but rarely done with such honesty, intelligence, and empathy as Turning Red.
Even I, a Polish man in his thirties, found this female Asian parental struggle
infinitely relatable and entertaining. Despite its Disney/Pixar label, this is not
an appropriate film for children, however. Yet as a work of animated cinema for
nostalgic adults is among the best the company has produced.
Mei
(Rosalie Chiang), despite her best efforts, is a typical thirteen-year-old. She
enjoys school, hanging out with her friends, and fangirling over the boy band 4*Town.
She also tries hard to be the perfect daughter to her overbearing tiger mom Ming
(Sandra Oh): getting good grades, keeping her room clean, and helping at the Confucian
temple her family runs. One fateful day, she wakes up and must confront the
terror of all female tweens becoming women: changing into a giant red panda every
time she experiences a strong emotion. Fortunately, there is a ceremony during
the next blood moon that can trap the panda spirit and free her from the ancestral
curse. Unfortunately, it is the same day as 4*Town’s next big concert at the Skydome.
Obviously,
this pandamonium is a potent metaphor on the social and physical difficulties associated
with female puberty. At first, both Mei and Ming take the “Elsa” route,
agreeing the panda must be squelched at all costs. Mei refuses to leave her room,
calling the red monstrosity “hideous.” Her friends seek her out and, to Mei’s
astonishment, express excitement about her situation. Seeking to exploit her gift
for profit, Mei and company begin a cuddling empire, charging their classmates to
hug this living embodiment of a cuteness. This new enterprise is not without
its risks. As a panda, Mei has a tendency towards rage, destruction, and unintentionally
causing bodily harm. When Ming discovers her deception, she unleashes her own
panda and soon it’s a classic kaiju clash. The message is a bit muddled but
seems to give the impression that our sexuality, while good, can be destructive
or creative, and must be used appropriately. Other possible symbols include one’s
own personality, emotional reactions, or – in the words of Mei herself – “inherent
weirdness.”
Discussing
issues of menstruation, sexual maturity, and parental tension can be a tightrope
in a genre typically made for children, so it is unsurprising that many reviews
– Catholic and secular alike – found the film difficult and even repulsive.
Richard Roeper branded Mei “irritatingly
obnoxious,” while Common Sense Media found her mother “way
too protective and pyscho.” The narrative was also another example of Steven
Greydanus’ theory of Junior
Know Best, a trend by which children’s animation portrays parents as
clueless, unjustly strict, and in need of fraternal correction by their more enlightened
children.
These ideas,
while valid, miss a basic point: Turning Red isn’t for kids. It was
designed for millennials experiencing the first pains of parenthood, namely…me.
It takes place in 2002 Toronto, and the entire mise-en-scene could not be more
accurate. Mei carries around a tamagotchi that constantly beeps its commands.
She listens to customed mix CDs burned by her friends. 4*Town’s catchy tune “Nobody
Like You” sounds straight out of the backstreet. Though we would never admit it
publicly, our children are often rude and annoying, and it helps to be reminded
that we were the same way.
When seen from
this perspective, Turning Red, despite its flaws, is one of most insightful
and humorous examinations of sexuality in decades. It is awkward, weird, and uncomfortable
because it is honest. When Mei ends with an encouragement to “get our freak on,”
it’s not a call to immorality but an encouragement to face our nature with
trust in God’s providence and the love of our family. In a world that
increasingly sees our bodies, even
children’s bodies, as enemies, this a necessary message.
Post-Script: About two
years ago, I saw the infamous magazine again on Ebay for $10, and I bought it just
to spite my mother and reclaim my masculinity. I guess we all still have a
panda way down – even if it lives in the attic next to the jumper we’re keeping
for our next baby.
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