Encanto is utterly enchanting.
Some films feel like they arrive fully formed, as though they’ve always existed, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life. Encanto is one of those rare cinematic miracles – a dazzling burst of colour, emotion, and music that doesn’t just tell a story but immerses you in its world with such warmth and vibrancy that you’d swear you’d stepped into the Casita yourself. It’s a triumph of animation, storytelling, and songwriting, cementing itself as one of Disney’s most enchanting and emotionally resonant films in years and marks the high water mark of Disney’s second animated renaissance that started with Frozen.
At its heart, Encanto is a love letter to family – the ties that bind, the expectations that weigh, and the strength found in embracing individuality. The Madrigal family, each member blessed with a unique gift, live in a magical house in a lush Colombian valley, their lives sustained by a miracle bestowed upon them generations ago. Except for Mirabel (voiced with infectious charm by Stephanie Beatriz), who, for reasons unknown, was never granted a gift. Yet, as the magic begins to falter and cracks appear – both literal and metaphorical – it’s Mirabel who embarks on a journey of self-discovery, not to find her place in the family, but to show them how much they need her.
The artistry on display is breathtaking. From the resplendent hues of the Colombian landscape to the intricate designs of each Madrigal’s bedroom – a manifestation of their unique abilities – the film overflows with detail and character. The animation team revels in movement, from the way Mirabel’s dress swishes with every hurried step to the way Casita itself expresses personality through its ever-shifting tiles and stairs. This is Disney animation at its most dynamic and intricate, crafting a world so richly realised that it feels lived-in rather than merely drawn.
Few Disney musicals have ever felt this alive with rhythm and storytelling. Encanto isn’t just another animated feature with songs; it’s a landmark achievement in the genre, fuelled by what is unquestionably Lin-Manuel Miranda’s finest work to date. His songs don’t just propel the story forward – they weave it together. Each track is a masterclass in character-driven songwriting, layering complex emotions beneath irresistible melodies. The Family Madrigal is an effervescent introduction, rattling off names and gifts with the rhythmic precision of a Broadway showstopper. Surface Pressure gives unexpected depth to Luisa’s strength, peeling back her burden with a reggaeton beat and razor-sharp lyrics. And We Don’t Talk About Bruno – a swirling, multi-perspective earworm – became Disney’s biggest song in decades for good reason. Miranda’s genius is in making every song distinct yet interconnected, each one a reflection of the Madrigals’ struggles, joys, and fears.
More than just a spectacle, Encanto is an exuberant celebration of Colombian culture. The vibrancy of its world is rooted in authenticity, from the architecture of the Madrigal home to the traditional clothing and food. The soundtrack pulses with cumbia-infused rhythms, and the film’s embrace of magical realism reflects a storytelling tradition deeply embedded in Colombian literature. It doesn’t simply nod to its setting – it thrives in it, shaped by Colombian consultants, artists, and storytellers who ensure the film feels lived-in rather than merely borrowed.
Yet, Encanto’s most magical trick isn’t its spectacle or even its music – it’s the raw emotional honesty at its core. There’s no villain here, no grand antagonist to vanquish. Instead, the conflict is found within the family itself, in the quiet heartbreak of Abuela Alma’s fear of losing everything, in the pressure each Madrigal carries to live up to impossible expectations, and in Mirabel’s quiet yearning to belong. The film’s resolution isn’t about restoring lost magic but healing the emotional wounds that have fractured the family for generations.
With Encanto, Disney has delivered something truly special – a film that feels both intimate and grand, familiar yet fresh. It’s an animated masterpiece, a cultural celebration, and a testament to the power of storytelling. Casita did grant Mirabel a gift: the ability to bring families – and not just her own – together, because Encanto is the kind of film that will be cherished across generations.
