Sunday, December 15, 2024

The New Adventures of Encanto Vol. 1: Time to Shine

For anyone hoping for some sort of sequel of the wonderful Disney film Encanto, the news of a comic series with the new adventures of beloved characters must sound exciting. The comics are written by Amparo Ortiz, drawn primarily by Andrea Greppi (with a supporting team), and published by Papercutz. So far, only the first volume is out (the second is announced for August 2025), so let’s have a look at it!

Pretty preview pictures taken from the Amazon and Papercutz websites.
Ugly crooked photos are my own. :)

The official blurb doesn’t give us much beyond an overall happy and light feeling:

It’s time to peek behind the curtain at the fantastically gifted family Madrigal! Mirabel and her extended family live together in an enchanted house named Casita, where the magic of their miracle keeps the Encanto going every day. But behind the scenes, everything can’t be perfect all the time! From secret visions and making new friends, to talent shows and tall tales, the Madrigals face their share of challenges. Luckily, Mirabel is always there to remind her family of their greatest strength… each other!

The book contains four comics: the first two take place soon after the events of the movie, while the other two are (mostly) set in the time while the Madrigal triplets were young. Apparently, similar “New Adventures” of other Disney characters also exist, and Papercutz also publishes The New Adventures of Turning Red, so this book also contains a 4-page preview of that in the end. Personally, I’m not a fan of books ending with something else (a simple back-cover ad would have been preferable), but someone may find the preview useful. Anyway, let’s have a look at the comics themselves.

 

The art style

As you may see from the pictures, the art style is very cutesy and somewhat caricatural, almost chibi, with all the characters having big heads, as well as more delicate features than in the film. The colours, too, are brighter and softer than in the cartoon, with no genuinely dark scenes. To be honest, I am not too fond of this style choice, not because it's unappealing in itself (it's cute), but precisely because it deviates from the original aesthetic so much. Obviously, this was done with the idea to attract an audience of younger children, but that still doesn't make it good enough for me, because the characters don't quite look like themselves. At best, they look like younger versions of themselves. Some people complained that the movie Mirabel looks older than her official age of 15 (and I also initially thought she was older), but here she looks to me like she's maybe 10, and Isabela 12 or so. (Camilo seems to be the least affected.) When I first saw the cover, I actually thought the comic was going to be a prequel about the younger Madrigals as children.

This aspect is additionally problematic in the actual prequel stories, as it is really hard to guess how old the triplets are supposed to be. (And the use of “kids” for their friends is equally vague, so it doesn’t help.) The story seems to imply that they're teens, but Julieta looking like a Latina Shirley Temple really doesn't help. Some of the character profiles also seem unnaturally narrow, almost rodent-like: while there is one similar brief shot of Mirabel like that in the film (as she faces Abuela in “Waiting on a Miracle”), this seems more pronounced and looks a bit uncanny to me. 

That is not nearly what she looks like frontally.

Also, some shots just seem to evoke the Asterix art style to me – and while I adore Asterix, it just doesn't sit well with Encanto for me. As Papercutz is currently publishing the English editions of Asterix, it’s quite possible the team was inspired by the classic.


Don't know about you, but these just resemble Uderzo to me!

To sum it up: other Encanto comics (in magazines) and picture books (we've reviewed a lovely one about Dolores!) kept the art style much closer to that of the film, despite being aimed at very young children. I wish this series had done the same. This way, it reminds me of Pony Life. Beyond that, the drawings are good, the shading is nice, and there are some very cute frames now and then. But – the story is always more important to me, so let's move on to it!                

 

The writing 

All the stories are mostly light-hearted in nature: while there is some drama, it is tangibly lighter than in the film, and always gets resolved by the story's end. (You could argue that young Bruno's drama doesn't, but that's more because we know where things went later from the film.) Narratively, the writing is fairly decent. Probably the biggest plus (as much as we could say it's a prerequirement) is the fact that all the Madrigals act very much in character. You'll never think: “Mirabel wouldn't say this!” and thus immersion is preserved. There might be some minor plot holes that we'll mention in the context of individual stories (mostly related to side characters), and some of the references to characters' movie behaviour might be a little too blatant copies for my taste (see the first page of Tall Tales below, and there are many others), but it is all within acceptable limits. The references to Colombian culture are also there, not just in the occasional tidbits of simple Spanish in spoken lines, but also in the mentions of traditional dishes, dances and items of clothing. Some of those are obvious – for example, Bruno mentions his ruana while gesticulating to his upper clothing, making it obvious what it is – but if you're not sure what postre de natas is and what it tastes like, it remains up to you to look it up. 

However, there is also a downside: Ortiz either wasn't fully steeped in the atmosphere of the Madrigal family and the town from the movie, or she made a conscious decision to deviate from it, to make the stories more relatable to modern children in the Northern hemisphere. While the movie was all about joint family life and joint work for the community, most scenes here feature only a few characters. While I'm sure this was simpler for both writing and drawing, it also reduces the lively communal feeling that the movie showed. Also, you might think that the young triplets have so little duties around the house (we just see the girls cooking and Bruno having visions) that they're always relaxing or hanging out with their friends. The latter is particularly problematic, as it seems to imply a highly separate social life of teens, which simply wasn't the case in 19th-century traditional communities. I'm not saying that a gathering of young people having fun without either elders or children could not have happened. In fact, I am sure those did happen – but if that is all that we are shown (not even Alma ever appears in the prequels), the picture is slightly skewed. 

Language adds to this same issue. While, of course, modern stories have to be written so as to be comprehensible and natural-sounding to modern readers, they also need to make the illusion of being in a different time and place credible. And one thing that tends to crack that illusion is the use of modern colloquialisms and slang. While this is a problem endemic to Disney movies as well, the Encanto film doesn't suffer too heavily from it: modern slang is mostly confined to some jokes, and those mostly in songs where, again, our suspension of disbelief is greater. The comics seem to be more infested. I'll accept the ubiquitous “kids” in the stead of children or youngsters as so entrenched that it is barely viewed as slang nowadays. I'll even tolerate Julieta telling her brother: “Bruno, why don’t you tell us something interesting? Like a fun fact!” – though I’m really hard-pressed to believe anyone would say that in real life even today, let alone in 19th-century Colombia. But the repeating insistence on “cool” breaks the bubble for me. It's not just a generic superlative, replacement for “great”: in that way it was used in the movie as well, and while slightly annoying, it’s also tolerable. But in some places in the comics the word is used precisely in the sense modern young people use it, as a person being impressive, but also with implications of popular, yet cold-blooded, hard to emotionally shake or touch etc. That concept, never mind the word, was not really the ideal of young people at the time: I dare say it didn't even exist back then. I’m aware this won’t be a flaw for most readers, but some of us more attuned to the settings of the story find that such details break immersion. The same story in essence could have been told without the use of such anachronistic concepts – and would have been slightly better for such readers without, I believe, visibly detracting anything for the others. 

 

Let us now have a look at each story in turn: I'll detail the basic outline, but I'll try to avoid spoilers for the very ending of each – though, as could be expected, there are no major plot twists and you can probably presume how each of these ends. 

 

Tall Tales

The opening story is focused on Camilo. Mirabel shares with him a problem that his younger brother, Antonio, has: a slightly older boy keeps scaring him with made-up monster stories. Mirabel's idea is that Camilo should provide some brotherly moral support and confidence-building, but Camilo decides to do things his way, shapeshifting into a strong, muscular boy to scare the offender off. That works very well - but causes a new problem when Antonio tells all his little friends about the awesome “Sebastian” who came out of nowhere to rescue him, despite nobody knowing such a person in town...

The story does teach a decent lesson about the importance of honesty, and that everyone cries sometimes and it is not a thing to be ashamed of. However, I have an issue with the premise. It seems somewhat hard to believe that a school-age boy would bully Antonio Madrigal, and even try to excuse himself to “Sebastian” by saying: “I was just messing around! He is just a silly kid, anyway. No need to act all bothered.” The importance of the Madrigal family in town, their powers and significance simply make it hard for anyone there to view any of the Madrigals as “just a silly kid” with whom it’s appropriate to “mess around”. Not to mention that Antonio can speak to and command animals – shouldn't the boy have been at least a little scared of the idea that he might send a dangerous animal to attack him? But if you overlook this, the core of the story holds up.

 

A Madrigal Showtime!

The second comic follows up, albeit in a circumstantial way, on the love story between Mariano and Dolores. Mariano is planning a public talent show for his mother's birthday, of course, intending to read his own poetry there, but also inviting anyone interested to participate. Mirabel volunteers to help by hosting the show, and Dolores is all too eager to sign up, when obstacles appear one after another: not only does Mariano set a rule that the Madrigals may not use their gifts (to keep the contest fair), but he also asks Mirabel if Isabela might also want to participate. Dolores tries to amend this by inviting both Isabela and Luisa to participate with her, and they plan out a joint dance number - dancing the cumbia to Mirabel's accompaniment on the accordion. However, performing in public without relying on their powers is not so easy, and so the cousins will have to learn to persist even when things don’t go smoothly.

There is a little plot hole in the story. Somehow, Mariano both hosting and reading his poetry was an issue that caused him to ask Mirabel to host, but Mirabel's hosting and playing for the other Madrigals is not a problem. Only Dolores, Isabela and Luisa seem to be counted as contestants, while Mirabel's playing, apparently, isn't considered a part of the act. Now, that’s not a major problem for the plot: to be fair, in a small, local event, I don’t think anyone would object to either Mariano or Mirabel both hosting and participating, since the host doesn’t judge: the winner is decided by Mariano’s mother. Still, it comes off as slightly inconsiderate towards musicians in stage arts, I dare say: as if the musical accompaniment is so secondary that isn’t too important for the dance.

 

Meet... Hernando!

Set completely in the past, this story shows young Bruno struggling to fit in with his sisters' friends. Firstly, he is somewhat socially awkward, and tends to fly into long digressions on subjects the other youngsters find confusing. On top of that, they only seem to be interested in Bruno having visions about their futures, and not actually getting to know him for who he is. Julieta has an idea to try fixing this by throwing a party with Bruno as the host, and herself cooking. In the course of the story, we get to see how Bruno started with his acting and invented the persona of Hernando, who is scared of nothing!

While I remain by the above critique of teenagers seemingly left to their own devices in a society that simply didn't work that way, I do have to praise the way the siblings' relations are portrayed. Just like in the film, we see that both sisters do love Bruno, but Julieta is closer to him, readier to try to help or to get him to open up about what's troubling him. This creates a lovely sense of continuity with the film – maybe even more so than Hernando himself.

 

Lovestruck

The final story begins and ends in the “present day” (i.e. post-film time), but most of it takes place in the past. After Mirabel witnesses a romantic display of affection between Pepa and Felix, she expresses curiosity about how they met each other. They tell her that, in fact, Bruno had a vision they would meet, and the story shifts to the past. Bruno sees Felix, a boy whom he barely knows at that point, helping Pepa when she slips and falls, and Pepa flirting with him afterwards (thus my conclusion that they are teens, and not children). The vision then shifts to a more distant future, where he sees that they are destined to marry. He is certain Pepa will be happy to hear of her future husband; however, she gets nervous and doesn’t want to hear a word of it, both because she doesn’t want to know it in advance (huh, I never thought of prophecies as spoilers to one’s own life), but also because she doesn’t feel ready to fall in love. Bruno persistently keeps trying to get her to calm down and accept to talk about it… and it is only after he gives up that the prophesised encounter actually happens. The story in the present day ends with appreciation of Bruno’s gift, and Mirabel’s proclamation of “I’m so glad we can talk about Bruno now!”

There is maybe one little immersion issue here – when Bruno and Pepa are in town browsing new ruanas, it feels a little more like a modern shopping trip than one appropriate to the setting. Bruno refers to the woman selling the ruanas only as “the vendor”. In a community as small and as tightly knit as that in the Encanto (and likely a bit smaller than in the film a generation ago), with literally no outside traffic that we know of, it is hard to believe that this woman would be a nameless salesperson to them. She would be a neighbour, a part of the people they’re protecting, someone whom they not only know by name in her role as a shopkeeper, but whom they also know outside of her work, whose family they know as well. I know she is not an important character, but if the man with the chickens in The Missing Sound could have been Don Osvaldo, she could also have been a DoƱa Maria or something similar without it interfering the story. Even the mention of “new arrivals” in her shop sounds a bit strange: where did they arrive from? Is there a route to the outside we’re not aware of, or did she simply put a new batch of clothes of her own making up for sale? But this is a brief scene in the story, so it doesn’t change it much.

 

Final thoughts

In the end, I still think this is a pretty good and fun comic! It is true, I dislike the art style, and I think that many details of the writing could have been done better. But they still are details, and if you don’t mind the style, all the better. This project clearly didn’t have the ambition of writing yet another epic story, like in the film, but giving us some small, slice-of-life stories with troubles that are easier for children and young people to relate to in everyday life. No huge new revelation has been made regarding the past, nor advancement in the future – there is no heavy drama behind the creation of Hernando, Dolores and Mariano don’t yet marry, etc. – but those are still four nicely written tales in the universe of Encanto, where the members of the family Madrigal we got to know and love act true to their character, and where we still get a few new tiles in the mosaic of Encanto. Personally, I prefer the prequel stories, but that’s a matter of taste! And I think they did hit the mark with young readers, because we must have read it with our daughter at least 20 times, if not more, since we recently obtained it. We should have bought the hardcover version. :)

If you wish to buy The New Adventures of Encanto, doing it through this affiliate link – https://amzn.to/41TxyXp – will earn us a small commission through no extra cost to you! Thanks in advance for supporting the blog!

As always, I’d love to read your comments below!

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

The origin of Twinkle-Eyed ponies, and why it is (not) a horror story

How familiar are you with the first generation of My Little Pony? You may know that there was a line among G1 pony toys called “Twinkle-Eyed ponies”, the ponies in which have faceted gems inset in or instead of the painted eyes other ponies have. Some people find them very beautiful, some find them a little unsettling, or simply think the painted eyes look better, but either way, for many, it's just a toy gimmick.

Image from Ponyology (no longer active)

If you watched the show, you know that many of the twinkle-eyed ponies did appear in it, and they were faithfully represented: they were drawn with protruding faceted gems in the place of eyes. No explanation was given in the show, leading some viewers to wonder why some ponies had such unusual eyes.

But if you've read the comics… ah, then you know the dark truth. In some ways, it's creepier even than what Lord Tirac managed to achieve.

And let's be fair, outdoing him in creepiness is no small feat.

The origin story of these ponies can be found in the comic “Applejack’s Amazing Adventure”, published in issue #11 of the My Little Pony magazine, in 1986. (I’ve also seen some of the comics, including this one, printed as picture books, at least in German, with every image sized up to a full-page illustration.) It wasn’t even the cover story of the issue: that honour belonged to a much more casual comic, “Fun in the Snow”. In fact, AAA was a story request from readers… and then someone came up with this? (We just have a note on the correspondence page that the story is “especially for” three girls whose names and cities are given. We don’t know what each of them wrote and requested. Maybe someone asked how twinkle-eyed ponies got their eyes, while another asked for a story with Applejack as the hero.)

The beginning is fairly light-hearted: Applejack has one of her bouts of clumsiness and messes up several (minor) things for her pony and non-pony friends, who get upset over it. She decides to go into the woods to find a friendly witch, aptly named Witch Know-a-Lot, who might know a spell to help her stop being clumsy. (Just like later, G4 ponies might go to Zecora in the Everfree Forest to look for help with various problems. And even the name isn’t much less of a symbol.)

All comic scans taken from heckyeahponyscans.tumblr.com

However, Applejack takes a wrong turn in the forest and gets lost, eventually coming to a mysterious cavern full of shining jewels, where she is captured by an evil wizard – those apparently abound in G1 Ponyland, just as in any good old-fashioned fairytale setting. He only refers to himself as the Jewel Wizard, and promptly sets her to work with digging up the jewels for him. And she is by no means the first pony he has captured this way: in fact, he leaves it to the other ponies to instruct her what to do… and those ponies all seem to be squinting in a very strange way.

When they’re left alone, the ponies whisper to Applejack that they have been captured in the dark cave for so long that their eyes “won’t work in the daylight” anymore, and that she should try to escape while she still has her eyesight. Credit where credit is due – while Applejack may be clumsy, she is no coward, and she decides to run not only to save herself, but to get help for the others. In doing so, she smashes into the wizard’s throne. (It is subject to interpretation whether she does so on purpose, or it is once again an accident - but this time, a fortunate one.) Shards of jewels fly all over the place, as a crack opens in the floor of the cave where the throne used to be, swallowing the evil wizard in a fitting end. Applejack proceeds to lead the rest of the prisoners outside, expecting to need to lead a group of blind ponies to safety, but as they go into the light, she notices that they now have jewels from the broken throne in their eyes, and that they can see normally that way!

That's it. Happy end! A comic with a total of four pages, like most in this era. The villain is dead, all the good ponies are safe and sound, they can see, and it's explained how they got their twinkle eyes. What more do you need? Twinkle-eyed ponies appear in numerous comics, stories and books later on, but, just like in the show, their ordeal in the mines is never again mentioned: they seem to be just ponies like all others. (Well, except for Mimic, whom you can't find for under $200 nowadays who has her own problem regarding a set of magic golden horseshoes, but that is, again, unrelated to her eyes.) But are they really?

When we look at the story of this comic with adult eyes, what these ponies went through sounds terrifying and heavily traumatising. They were enslaved and forced to perform heavy labour, probably living in very poor conditions, perhaps punished if they tried to escape. They were slowly losing their eyesight, noticing how their eyes can’t handle the bright light when they do approach the exit, and were likely gradually losing the hope of, very literally, ever seeing the light of day again – even if they did somehow regain their freedom. Even if things did end well for them – that ending itself must have been traumatising as well! Just imagining sharp pieces of crystal driving themselves into one’s eye sockets might make some people very uneasy, let alone living through it. It must have hurt terribly, we think. We can imagine those poor ponies remaining mentally scarred by the ordeal – having nightmares of gloomy jewel mines, shuddering whenever they see themselves in the mirror. We could easily envision the whole thing as the plot of a horror book or movie! No wonder this meme appears on Reddit:

Yet it seems that no hordes of angry and concerned parents wrote to Hasbro to complain of their children being traumatised by this comic, and that should come as no surprise. After all, classical fairytales contain many elements that also would be terrifying to live through, but don’t seem to be problematic for children to read. Just think about it – all those children, grandmas and little goats eaten by big bad wolves (but emerging from their stomachs unharmed), children abandoned by their parents, captured by evil witches, abused by evil stepmothers, turned into animals, and so on… yet it doesn’t seem to cause more than fleeting fear in our children, if even that much. And that is mainly for two reasons.

Firstly, because children, obviously, aren’t looking at the story with adult eyes. The things that come to our minds because the story seems to imply them (or, rather, because we would expect them there in real life) don’t and can’t naturally come to the mind of someone who doesn’t have any experience with such discourse. The average small child, thankfully, knows nothing (from first-hand experience or detailed accounts) of the horrors of slavery, severe illness or injury, and so on. They would not think of the consequences beyond what the comic explicitly shows and tells.

And, of course, the second reason is precisely that: the comic doesn’t explicitly show or describe much that is overly troublesome. The images are simple and cute (even the evil wizard looks rather adorable), the text isn’t too heavy on unsettling details. Yes, we see the captured ponies being in a hard spot – but only a few panels later, the evil wizard is justly punished, and the ponies are freed and can see again! Nobody mentions them being in pain due to the jewels: for all we know, children may imagine those jewels just magically attaching to them, all sparkly and shiny. Maybe it even felt good and right? Everybody is smiling in the last panel; all problems are solved. Thus, the ending is happy – and fully and truly so.

In both of these factors, the fact that the story is short also helps: we don’t get to dwell on the unpleasantness or hopelessness of the ponies’ situation. Unless prompted to think about what it must have felt for Whizzer, Gingerbread and the others to be trapped in the darkness and slowly lose their eyesight (a prompt not many parents are likely to make!), most children won’t give it much thought as the story moves on right away, and soon comes to a satisfying conclusion. Just like in fairytales: no rendition of the story spends two pages describing what Little Red Riding Hood felt like inside the wolf’s stomach. In most editions, you probably won’t find a single sentence about it. And that is just fine.

Thus, from a child’s point of view, there is nothing overly disturbing in this story: it is just another adventure in Ponyland. If you’re an older fan who feels like writing fanfiction or running a roleplaying game where the dark aspects of the story are played out – there’s nothing wrong with that! Mature stories dealing with serious subjects can be both entertaining and educational for everyone involved. Then, to get that horror or survival feeling, you will focus on all that is potentially grim and unsettling, both inside the caves and after the ponies’ liberation.

But if you generally prefer the feel of happy, careless ponies – don’t feel pressured to view the story as very dark, because it doesn’t have to be. View it as a story of adversity overcome, of an unlikely hero, a clumsy mare with a brave heart, thwarting a villain’s evil plans – and of wounds and scars being healed in a magical and symbolical way. Because the jewels in their eyes don’t have to be ominous sharp foreign objects causing pain, yet being the only way for the ponies to see. They can be a sign of how Ponyland’s magic intervened to not only provide a cure, but also to show how, no matter what devious actions a villain undertakes, their plans can be brought to nought, and what they tried to cause harm with be turned to good. And then, when the twinkle-eyed ponies look themselves in the mirror, they will look upon their faces and their sparkling eyes with a feeling of pride, victory and hope.

 

If you like My Little Pony, check out our other MLP posts, such as the one on their cutie marks and names, or the one about later-generation Applejacks! Or just click the “My Little Pony” tag and explore everything we have!

 

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