“I am a child.”

The words leave my mouth an approximate three times a day, and of course, they’re true; I’m fifteen with a myriad of valuable experiences ahead of me. 

But that’s not often the connotation with which I deliver that sentence. More often, it’s in reference to my immature passions or a truly infantile mistake I’ve made. In keeping with that, let me talk about Frozen. 

To my credit, it came out at a time when I was the target audience, and it was perfectly acceptable for me to develop a fascination with it. Not so much to my credit, that fascination evolved into an unhealthy obsession. 

And it hasn’t leveled out as much as it should have at this point in my life.

If you have had a single conversation with me at any point in the last month, there’s a 50/50 chance I brought up Frozen 2. I must admit, I’m not entirely ashamed. I’ve been waiting for this movie since fourth grade. 

And by some gift of fate, Disney knew that. Disney knew who the movie’s messages were meant for. This movie was made for me—every nuance, every line, every song. It surpassed my highest expectations and obliterated my lowest. 

The plot revolves around a mysterious, ethereal tune hauntingly uttered by singer Aurora. Queen Elsa (Idina Menzel) is enthralled by the call that only she can hear. Her life is comfortable—stable. Succumbing to the allure of the voice would mean risking everything she’s fought to hold onto. But an inexplicable fidgety sensation of being out of place lures her toward the source of the voice. 

Over the span of the first movie, Elsa’s faith in herself matured and flourished. Her character arc in Frozen 2 detailed her journey to discovering her own place within that control and assuredness of her power. Her aura exuded confident curiosity and a certain strength that caused simply watching her to be empowering. 

Her innate desire for independence, while slightly less extreme, echoed that of the first movie, creating a similar rift between her and Anna (Kristen Bell.) Anna’s inclination to protect her sister was just as forceful, while still maintaining her buoyant, bubbly character. The persistence and firmness of her character were multifaceted but never wavered. 

The relationships that Anna formed in Frozen were fleshed out and detailed in the sequel, showcasing the development and growth of each bond. Her storyline with Kristoff (Jonathan Groff) provided quirky entertainment, and my favorite line was a product of this aspect of the plot. 

But despite my fondness for each character and the excitement sparked by their reappearance on the screen, none could rival Olaf (Josh Gad.) His sense of humor in the first movie—the byproduct of a genius script and Gad’s unparalleled comedic wit—was potently hysterical, shaping him into a fan favorite. His performance in Frozen 2 was impossibly miles above in quality level, in both the content and timing of the jokes. 

Painting beautiful scenery, sharp and detailed images, and vibrantly choreographed scenes, the animation was a peak-talent, blowing the original out of the water. The characters’ costumes and hairstyles were fresh and novel, presenting both Anna and Elsa with gorgeous new hairstyles and mirroring the iconic costume change of “Let It Go” with a similar scene for Elsa. 

But my favorite aspect of the movie was the piece I expected to be most disappointed by—the music. 

From the familiar Norwegian “Vuelie” that framed the recognizable Disney intro to the covers of the movie’s originals that accompanied the credits, the music was shimmering high point of the entire film. 

“All Is Found”—an eerie, melodic lullaby sung by Anna and Elsa’s mother, Queen Iduna (Evan Rachel Wood), during an opening-scene flashback—was filled with the gentle plucking of strings and low, soulful vocals. It’s haunting lyrics echoed in relevance throughout the movie. 

In a contrasting upbeat tone, “Some Things Never Change” featured a chorus of voices and presented themes of inevitable change and gratefulness. It was during this number that it became eminently clear to me who Disney had written this movie for. With very charming and soft Disney-esque lyrics, it discussed the looming idea of “growing up” that had begun to plague Olaf. 

In a clear attempt to meet the standards “Let It Go” set in Frozen, “Into the Unknown” was a bold and powerful song that encompassed the impressive range of Menzel’s vocals. While it couldn’t achieve the same “je ne sais quoi” that “Let It Go” had, it was still strong and intense, sparking excitement and intrigue. 

Olaf’s bouncy and true-to-character song, “When I Am Older,” breathed a sigh of comedic relief while still adding to the plot. It was perky and fun to listen to, incorporating Olaf’s signature sense of humor into the lyrics. 

“Lost in the Woods” provided a fresh perspective and voice in marking Kristoff’s first full-length song, but also in its entire vibe: eighties’ love ballad. It showcased an ironically dramatic sound that was only rivaled by the hilarious choreography and visuals it accompanied on the screen.

“Show Yourself” was another Elsa-centric song, featuring her breath-taking costume change that debuted her radiant “long and down” hair. It was intertwined with a culminating moment in the plot, creating increased tension and piqued curiosity with increasingly desperate vocals and lyrics.

The final song, “The Next Right Thing,” delved into the subject of grief and depression, something I never could have expected from Frozen 2. In the aftermath of a climactic moment, Anna cultivates deep emotion with her heart-wrenching and grief-wrought thoughts. Beginning with shockingly dark lyrics sung in a weak and shaking tone, it evolved into hope-tinged and strong realizations of cooperating with grief and darkness.  

Frozen 2 concluded with the perfectly tied strings of themes that had been subtly trailing through the whole movie. And it was hard to see it as anything but a love letter—a love letter to fans who had grown up with the original, a love letter to anyone struggling with self-love, a love letter to those most in need. 

Frozen 2 was a love letter to me, a girl who was always so eager to grow up and is now begging time to slow down. I can never thank it enough for the impact it had on my life.