Disclaimer: I am not a musician–I learned to play piano mainly by ear, never learned to read music properly, and don’t really know how to analyze music in a professional manner.
However, I do know some things about music, and those things include the fact that music–without words–can be used to tell a story or to aid a story, and the latter iswhat I’ll be discussing here.
There’s several different recurring themes in the music of Coco, and I’m not just talking about “Remember Me.” One is the one you hear during “Much Needed Advice” that’s also played when Miguel crosses the bridge. Characters have their own themes as well–Pepita has a loud, blaring fanfare of trumpets whenever she takes center stage.
And as you can probably guess, Héctor has a theme, too.
(Skip to 0:57.)
This shady little leitmotif is what introduces us to Héctor, and it makes itself clear whenever he’s doing something related to his “conman” persona. We hear it first when he’s trying to sneak across the bridge, when he’s trying to bribe the corrections officer, and several times when he’s scheming with Miguel.
This aids the story in the way it presents Héctor to the viewers. He first shows himself as a shady conman, running from security, trying to illegally cross a bridge, bribing officials, and even working a little kid into his schemes, so he can cross the bridge for unknown reasons.
And his leitmotif emphasizes that. It’s shady, slinky, and untrustworthy, much like Héctor himself.
And its main instrument is a guitar.
An out of tune guitar.
But it doesn’t play every time Héctor appears. In fact, it’s only heard in, oh, maybe a third of the movie or so. Guess when we stop hearing this theme?
Yeah. This shady theme of his is never heard again after the visit to Shantytown, when Héctor must pick up a guitar for the first time in a long time.
But, wait! Does that mean Héctor doesn’t have a theme anymore, after that leitmotif disappears from the soundtrack?
Well… yes and no.
When Héctor’s conman persona theme stops playing, we stop seeing that part of him, mostly (I mean, there’s the bit where he sneaks into Ernesto’s party, but that’s about it). But his conman persona isn’t all there is to him.
When I said that Héctor’s shady leitmotif is what introduces us to his character? That was a lie.
Because we hear Héctor’s true theme much earlier in the film…
…long before we realize who it really belongs to.
(Skip to 0:23.)
The very first song we hear in the film introduces us to Héctor’s true self: a father that loves his his family.
But we don’t really see that after the prologue, because Héctor left, and never returned. In fact, unless I’m missing something, I’m pretty sure that leitmotif doesn’t come back until late in the movie…
…during Héctor’s flashback, when he tries to go home…
…during the cenote scene, when he’s revealed to be Coco’s father…
…during the rooftop scene, when he apologizes to Imelda…
…and during the sunrise scene, as he gives Miguel his final blessing.
All moments tied to Héctor showing his love for his family.
Oh, and the instrument that tends to be used for this leitmotif?
One of my fave things about the Hector/Imelda relationship is that like… it’s honestly so unexpected at first that the audience easily believes Imelda was actually married to Ernesto!
I mean here’s Ernesto de la Cruz, this charismatic, go-getter type of person, all smiles and charm and someone we’re told to like from the beginning, and when we meet Imelda she’s strong-willed and has this air of sophistication and class about her, a true matriarch of the family, and it’s like ‘oh yeah, I can see how these two personalities would’ve come together but then had a falling out.’ He’s the type who would leave for his dreams, and she’s the type who would never forgive him.
But then you realize she’s married to HECTOR: this strong, lovely, no-nonsense woman was the wife of this kooky tattered scarecrow of a man who was almost as thin in life as he is in death, and it’s just like ‘… them? Really??’
And then they start interacting and you find out how these misunderstandings have harmed their relationship, but underneath it all they still love each other so so much and turns out the two of them together are nothing short of adorable and it’s like ‘how could I have ever thought differently??’
Also it’s great to see how Imelda reacts to the man we and Miguel *thought* she was married to: repeatedly bashing him with her boot.
There’s this great line in the novelization where she remarks disgustedly that De La Cruz has no respect for women, and I think that’s part of why she and Hector work so well together- even when she’s been holding a grudge against him for years, he is nothing but respect and love for her.
Miguel is right. The first time I watched it, I expected a later scene where Miguel was proven wrong or shown the error of his ways—one where it’s firmly established that adults might make rules that don’t make sense, but they have their reasons and it’s best to abide by their wishes.
But no. That doesn’t happen. Instead, we see that Imelda’s insistence on the music ban, and her refusal to reconsider, indirectly (or perhaps directly) land Miguel in even greater danger, as he wouldn’t have gone after de la Cruz were it not for Imelda insisting he give up music forever. The happy ending comes not when Miguel agrees to give up music to please his family, but when he defies the ban to save Héctor and restore Mama Coco’s memories.
I can’t tell you how many kid’s movies I’ve seen that would have taken “Family comes first” to mean “The adults’ wishes are paramount even if they’re unreasonable.” It would have been so easy to have Miguel simply go along with what Imelda wanted, but Pixar instead gave us a story where a child’s decision to contest an unfair rule is what eventually restores a broken family.
is powerful. some of the most effective patterns I can remember off the top of my head:
– repetition in threes
remember me as a story point with changing meaning (ernesto, héctor + coco, miguel + coco; there are of course many other renditions playing in the background, plus the moment where ernesto, miguel, and his party guests sing it together, not to mention the weirdly commercial credits sequence)
coco speaks of her papa three times (once to ask if he’s coming, once while pointing at his headless photo and setting off miguel’s notion that he’s de la cruz, once to share his stories with the family)
imelda gives miguel three blessings, although the second one is aborted by ernesto, and the third is shared with héctor
there are three generations of dead Riveras: imelda and her brothers; julio and rosita; and victoria
there are three deaths: the first is illustrated by héctor’s death in the flashback; the second, the burial, is never seen in the film but implied by the cemetery; and the third, final death
héctor dresses as frida kahlo on three separate occasions: to cross the bridge, to gain entry to ernesto’s party, and to sneak with the family onto the spectacular stage. where did he get the second costume – did he steal it back from the authorities or convince céci to lend him a new one?
miguel falls three times from increasing heights: once when he slips into ernesto’s pool, once when security throws him into the cenote, once when ernesto throws him towards the pavement several stories down. twice he lands in water; the third time, héctor’s photo lands in water
héctor plays three different songs on three different guitars for three different audiences (chicharrón’s guitar for juanita, a backstage guitar for la llorona, his skull guitar for proud corazon). miguel also plays three different guitars: his makeshift one, chicharrón’s guitar, and héctor’s guitar
miguel is validated as an artist three times, first by frida, then héctor, then ernesto
clips from Ernesto’s films are shown on four separate occasions, but there is a difference in kind: the films are shown on screens and for on-screen audiences only three of those times. (once when miguel is playing along with the clips in his hide-away with dante, once when he is playing along before (and with) ernesto in front of the party audience, once when héctor confronts ernesto and play becomes all too real.) by contrast, the first time we see clips, the screen is our own (i.e. the movie screen itself, with only us as audience), hinting at miguel’s inability to distinguish fiction/projection from reality (and how he will ironically learn this difference precisely because he assumes the poisoning scene in the film was real)
there are three big grito moments, the one during warm-up (héctor accepting miguel’s wish and trying to help), the ones onstage during poco loco (miguel listening to that advice), and the ones in the cenote expressing their pride in being family. this last one is loud enough that it arguably leads dante to where they are
there are three references to the shining
– repetition in twos
ernesto is crushed twice by a bell (what is the significance of the bell? it’s a musical instrument with sacred and symbolic importance, but …?)
ernesto takes a guitar from a rivera twice: once after poisoning héctor, once by tossing away the guitar on miguel’s back in the pool
ernesto flies twice: one in a film, once thanks to pepita
imelda sings la llorona twice and for very different reasons. if one counts the mariachi singers who are silenced by abuelita, the song is technically played three times
héctor brings two shot glasses into chicharrón’s shack and leaves one empty, one full. his murder also involved two shot glasses, his own empty …
in the torn photo, héctor’s belt is engraved with two crossed guitars – there’s something going on here with la cruz (cross) as a word, the theme of crossing the bridge but also ernesto’s name, maybe even being double-crossed …
we see two bridge crossings: the one with miguel, and the one with coco and héctor
many forms of projection are repeated: the poisoning scene in ernesto’s film is seen twice; frida’s pre-show art is seen twice, once unfinished in rehearsal, once in full glory onstage; there are two flashbacks, etc.
… and I know I’m missing a ton, additions and improvements most welcome!
By now, you’ve probably heard Coco is one of the most well researched films about Mexico and its culture. There are many small details that make it feel like Mexico: the stone roads in a small town, the traditional embroidery patterns in the shirts of Miguel’s female relatives, an uncle wearing a soccer team shirt, even a bowl of limes in a stand of aguas frescas. Of course, the looks of papel picado, day of the dead altars, and cemeteries are also well represented. The clothes of the relatives Miguel sees in the world of the dead is accurate to their eras. While these are a nice touch, you’re ultimately not missing out on anything by not spotting them, so in this post I wanted to talk about the more culturally based details that show the most research and you might not understand if you’re not very well acquainted with Mexican culture:
Names and pronouns
1. Coco
This one is the most straightforward, so let’s start with the name of the movie. While the protagonist is called Miguel, we soon learn that Coco is his great grandmother. “Coco” is what we call a woman called “Socorro” (lit. “help” – it’s a very traditional name that’s considered old fashioned).
The Rivera family calls her “Mamá Coco,” which means “Mother Coco.” They also call Imelda “Mamá Imelda,” and so on. Calling your grandparents “mamá” or “papá” instead of “abuelita” and “abuelito” is a thing you can do, though I can’t say how common it is.
In the Spanish version of the film, Miguel’s grandmother, Elena, talks to Mamá Coco with “usted” (I didn’t notice other instances, but they might be there). Spanish has a formal and an informal version of singular “you:” “usted” for formal, “tú” for informal. The verb conjugation also changes depending on which one you use. It is used differently all through the Spanish speaking world, but in Mexico, other than older people you respect (like a teacher), you can talk to older family members with “usted,” which means respect rather than the distance the formality might imply. Nowadays, it has fallen out of use: as someone born in the 90s, my grandparents talked to their parents almost exclusively with “usted;” out of my parents, my mother talked to hers with “usted” and my father with “tú;” I speak to my parents with “tú.” I have cousins on my mother’s side that talk to their parents with “usted,” but I would say that makes them a minority nowadays.
Traditions and beliefs
2. Crossing to the world of the dead on a bridge of marigolds
If you paid very close attention, you might have noticed two children scattering marigold petals on the ground and their mother telling them not to scatter them, but to make a bridge so the dead could cross over. It was easy to miss, but that’s actually something we believe!
There are several types of flowers you can place in a day of the dead altar, but the one you can’t do without is the yellow marigold. Its petals are scattered all around the altar, and at the very front, you’ll form a path surrounded with candles. The bright yellow will help the dead properly make their way to the altar, and the candles surrounding the path will light their way.
3. Crossing to the world of the dead with a xoloitzcuintli
Several prehispanic cultures had a similar concept of the underworld as many other cultures around the world, in which there was a river they had to cross to get there. For both the Aztecs/Mexicas and the Mayas, a xoloitzcuintli would guide their souls so they could cross the river safely and arrive to Mictlan (Mexicas) or Xibalba (Mayas). To achieve this, a xoloitzcuintli would be sacrificed and buried with its owner. Day of the dead altars can have a xoloitzcuintli figure so that the dead can make it back safely as well.
4. Being thrown into a cenote
My screenshot isn’t the best but at some point, Miguel is thrown into a big pit with water. That’s not just any random pit, but a cenote.
Cenotes are naturally ocurring sinkholes caused by the collapse of limestone. The word “cenote” has Maya etymology, as cenotes are commonly found in the Yucatán peninsula, where they (still!) live. In old times, they would sacrifice animals and people as tributes to the gods, and also throw ceramic objects and jewelry as part of the tribute.
5. Alebrijes
I left these for last because they don’t have any deep meaning. Alebrijes are colorful fantastic animals that a man called Pedro Linares saw in a fever dream. He was a skilled artisan, so when he woke up from his long sickness, he brought them to life in his art.
In Coco, alebrijes are spiritual guides, and while their designs are to the likes of the real alebrijes, the film actually gave them a more important role than they have for us.
Music
6. Genres of Mexican music
The songs in Coco all belong to genres we’ve grown up with, so even if someone isn’t that knowledgeable in music theory or genres, we could vaguely tell they sounded “Mexican” (some more than others). Someone who is more knowledgeable of music genres can help me out here, but I think:
– Remember Me / Recuérdame is a bolero ranchero.
– Much Needed Advice / Dueto a través del tiempo is a ranchera.
– Everyone Knows Juanita / Juanita is a corrido.
– Un Poco Loco is a son jarocho.
– The World Es Mi Familia / El mundo es mi familia is huapango inspired.
– Proud Corazón / El latido de mi corazón is a a son (son de mariachi? I’m most uncertain about this one).
6.5 Un Poco Loco
Un Poco Loco starts in English as
What color is the sky, ay mi amor, ay mi amor, You tell me that it’s red, ay mi amor, ay mi amor
And in Spanish as
Que el cielo no es azul, ay mi amor, ay mi amor, Es rojo dices tú, ay mi amor, ay mi amor
(You say the sky isn’t blue, oh my love, oh my love, It’s red, you say, oh my love, oh my love)
This might be a deliberate reference to a huapango called “Cielo rojo,” which says:
Mientras yo estoy dormido Sueño que vamos los dos muy juntos A un cielo azul Pero cuando despierto El cielo es rojo, me faltas tú
(As I sleep I dream of us close together Going towards a blue sky But when I wake up The sky red, I am missing you)
Within the universe of the movie, this would make it an anachronistic reference, though. Additionally, Cielo rojo is a song of loss and Un poco loco is about a woman who thinks very differently and likes to say everything backwards, and that makes him crazy (in a good way!). Hence, in English we’ve got her saying to put his shoes on his head instead of his feet, and in Spanish him saying she might think with her feet and also how she keeps playing with his thoughts. Cielo rojo is a pretty sad song.
7. La Llorona
And I purposefully left La Llorona out of that list (it’s originally a son istmeño, though).
There’s a full musical number in Spanish, which seems to have suprised some people. For those of us who watched Coco in Spanish, it wasn’t too hard to guess it was this one: La Llorona was likely left in Spanish because it’s a very old folk song, one of those that are so old it has no known author and there are many different versions of the lyrics.
“Llorona” just means “weeper,” which is not really as unusual of a word in Spanish as it is in English. It’s closer to “crybaby” in use. She’s also what we call a character in a Mexican folktale. If you’re curious, the version used in Coco says the following, with “llorona” being the singer herself:
Poor me, llorona, llorona dressed in sky blue Even if it costs me my life, llorona, I won’t stop loving you I climbed the highest pine tree to see if I could spot you Since the pine tree was so green, llorona, it cried upon seeing me cry
What is grief and what is not grief, llorona: it all is grief to me Yesterday, I was crying to see you, llorona; today, I’m crying because I saw you
Poor me, llorona, llorona dressed in sky blue Even if it costs me my life, llorona, I won’t stop loving you
Famous people
8. Ernesto de la Cruz
“Isn’t he an original charact-” NO LISTEN STAY WITH ME.
Remember how I said Remember Me is a bolero ranchero? Guess who we associate boleros rancheros with?
That would be Pedro Infante, who happens to have a strong resemblance to no other than Ernesto de la Cruz.
It’s probably not a coincidence at all, as later on we see Ernesto with Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete at his party. Ernesto de la Cruz was explicitly stated to be inspired on both of them and another singer of the same genres, Vicente Fernández.
My parents left the movie saying “Pedro Infante didn’t deserve that burn,” lol.
9. Frida Kahlo (and Diego)
She does have a rather prominent role so she’s hard to miss. For those unaware, Frida is the artist who made the flaming papaya.
The themes in Frida’s are autobiographical, as she had a rather unusual life due to polio and injury. She painted herself and her suffering a lot. That might be why we get performances with many Fridas and things like a crying cactus that’s herself.
Bonus: her husband, Diego Rivera, is also in the same studio where we meet Frida. He was an important artist, specifically a muralist.
10. Other Mexican celebrities
I already brought up Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete as characters that appear right beside Ernesto de la Cruz.
But we also get to see a cameo of many other famous Mexican names in Ernesto’s studio! Excluding the people at the piano, from left to right:
Emiliano Zapata, a revolutionary; (my best guess is) Adela Velarde, another revolutionary; Ernesto and Miguel; (probably) Agustín Lara, composer and singer; (probably) Dolores del Río, actress (in Hollywood too!); Cantinflas, comedian and actor; Pedro Infante, singer and actor; María Félix, actress; El Santo, wrestler and actor; Jorge Negrete, singer and actor.
They kind of looked like this:
Another bonus: this gal looks like the calavera garbancera / the Catrina illustrated by José Guadalupe Posada.
There might be more things I’m missing or forgot; if that’s the case, feel free to let me know! You can also fix my music genres for me since that’s never been my forte.
I’m not the first person to say this, but I’ll say it again anyway—one of the things I loved about Coco was that the adults were adults. There’s a feeling of real, complex relationships, with all their ups and downs and in-betweens, especially for Héctor and Imelda. I originally liked the idea of Un Poco Loco being written for Coco, because the nonsensical answers seemed just right for a toddler playing with her papa. But after hearing the commentary about it being written for Imelda, I got hooked on that idea—that the person you love can make you a little bit crazy, and yet things persevere anyway.
This was originally supposed to be a lighthearted 3-page comic, but then my own experiences kicked in and it turned into something a little deeper about the trials of young parenthood, fledgling careers, and the sacrificial give-and-take of marriage.
Special thanks to @mygardenofmuses for proofreading the Spanish!
—millenial/gen z stuff that miguel loves and how his dead family reacts to them—
miguel def shares game accounts with his cousins and he’ll talk about either some crazy steam fad or his latest POTG on overwatch and his family’s just wondering how and when he met these friends from los angeles and houston and friggin seoul and moscow
let’s plays and podcasts they can broadly put under the “it’s just like radio” umbrella
miguel joins the dnd club in middle school and his first character is a bard so blatantly modeled after hector that hector himself gets absorbed in the adventures of “fernando del fuego” and can hardly stand the fact that updates are YEARLY
(it’s a pretty relaxed and loosely-scheduled campaign though, so most of the important stuff really does take months to happen)
miguel is a HUGE ‘my hero academia’ and ‘haikyu’ nerd, though he’ll say he only watches shows like ‘fruits basket’ and ‘your lie in april’ totally just because he shares an anime site subscription with rosa and he keeps getting her recommendations
his family’s honestly fine with whatever he’s watching; they can glean that he’s not into anything too risqué.
though those horror survival games that he’s got tucked away under his bed definitely raises some brows.
(out of curiosity, hector finds a copy of resident evil 7 at a rental shop back in the land of the dead. three hours and two weeks of uneasy sleep later, he’s written down some STRONG words for when miguel crosses that bridge again)
(one sentence includes “if you’re here before you’ve even reached 40, I THINK WE BOTH KNOW WHY”)
OKAY, FIRST OFF, YES I THINK ABOUT THIS A LOT SO THANK YOU FOR THIS.
SO, I stand firmly in the camp of “Ernesto disassociating himself from his actions and consequences” and “he deeply romanticizes himself and the world.” So the theme of this ask is “storytelling.” (This was the big theme I worked with on the “My Best Friend” comic and have been dying to talk about)
Short answer, though, is YES but with a catch!
Everywhere you go throughout the movie, you get Ernesto the Story. We’re introduced to the “legend” through Miguel’s idealized story of him, we hear about his early days from the always-positive-and-always-avoiding-the-subject Héctor, we see his films… we see him cultivated as a story again and again. I think, largely, this is because he presents himself as a story. Some examples of this are: we see him narrating his life to Miguel in his mansion, showing off HIS grandson to everyone, and the film reels playing. He LOVES being the hero. He LOVES being a celebrity. He loves living up the role. ( And nothing, NOTHING can intervene with his “truth.”
With that level of disassociation of himself, I imagine he romanticizes his friendship with Héctor. He’s so kind to Héctor when they meet up in the tower– well, you know, riiiiight until Héctor figures out the truth. It’s only when Ernesto’s “truth” is questioned that he takes action to fix the narrative. Ernesto may miss his friend but certainly doesn’t recognize what he did… as he…. proceeds to do it again…
Remorse can go two ways. Either you regret your actions or you regret the consequences. I think he falls more into the latter rather than the former (Héctor being the former and why they’re SUCH GOOD FOILS). I believe for a hot moment, Ernesto was ready to be friends again but when Héctor didn’t play into the role, the touching memories are shattered. The narrative has to be corrected. I touch on it in my “Remember Me” comic but I think Ernesto does miss his friend, or rather, the moments/memories Héctor gave to him. He regrets losing that but *shrug* the show must go on. The story must continue. The legend must live on.