'Frozen 2' is a cinematic guilty pleasure. Here's why.

 

When I saw 'Frozen 2' in the cinema, it was kind of a letdown. It was funny and entertaining, but other than that I wasn't that impressed. Nothing of real consequence happened, it didn't take many risks, some scenes just padded the film out and the potential from the new characters was wasted.

However, it is one of my big cinematic guilty pleasures. Almost five years on I can't stop thinking about how visually inspired it could be. It looked the the first 'Frozen' but also looked different.

The soundtrack won't please everyone but I am addicted to it. The use of kulning in Elsa's songs is used to great effect. Some of the lyrics are powerful as well. Maybe those songs are like 'Let it Go', but something about them feels different in a way I can't explain.

The theme of finding yourself and where you come from resonated with me. There's a lot about my ancestry I don't know about. Where exactly did my earliest ancestors live? Would I find myself if I knew?

The theme of the sins of the father isn't handled well, but I had ancestors who were slave owners, I can't afford to pay reparations to their descendants because I haven't inherited anything from the descendants of John Johnson or Peter and Simeon Fiske, and there are no easy answers to avenging the enslaved people anyway. But I do know the towns where those ancestors lived.

This is relevant to 'Frozen 2' because in the third act the sisters learn that their grandfather was a murderous colonialist and try to amend the sins of the past. It resonates with me, even though it's clumsily done.

My ancestors came from numerous places. I have ancestors from Scandanavia, Poland, western Germany, the Netherlands, France, Czechia, Austria and God knows where else in Europe. It's hard to know the exact lineage of my maternal great grandmother, for instance, or my paternal great grandmother.  How do I follow these ancestors into the unknown?

If I learn where my earliest ancestors lived, my story could be more interesting than what Disney had come up with.

My uncle by marriage believes I'm descended from Duke Rollo, but I don't know how he knows that. Last year I visited Willian the Conqueror's tomb in Rouen and didn't get any answers. Nothing spiritual or magical happened. Nothing obvious, anyway. It was a thrilling experience. It's possible I'm not descended from him. I can't get any answers from my uncle right now.

I thought honestly that something in my life would be like the 'Show Yourself' scene. That scene is one I am addicted to. The visuals, the music and the sense of anticipation just work for me. I love the facial expressions on Elsa in the scene. The part where she's trying to access Ahtohallen by the sea is one I really like as well, due to the editing.

Something about certain scenes remind me of 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind', or, of all things, 'The Neverending Story', like the scenes of Elsa approaching Ahtohallan.

Have you ever been to some place where your life felt complete? One of those places, as tacky as it seems to people, was the Clos de Lupin in Étretat. It has a great atmosphere, it makes you feel like you're part of something bigger and it's a place I recommend other autistic women visit. I like to describe it as being like an autistic woman's Ahtohallan. 

Traveling around Britain, where I live, feels like going into the unknown. Even though I have lived in Britain (Airstrip One?) most of my life, it feels mysterious to me.

All this probably doesn't make sense, but my mind does make connections that aren't immediately obvious to people.

I have only seen 'Frozen 2' once, and if I saw it again, I would still be unimpressed. But it is inspiring me to want to take my own journeys into the unknown.

On Being an Autistic Troublemaker

 There's a reason why I relate to Tuco from 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly'. He's not perfect. He's violent, self-centered, rude, mouthy, garrulous, quick-tempered and generally lacks social skills. He has many positive qualities, but he's not labeled "The Ugly" for nothing. All of his qualities, positive and negative, have resonated with me from the moment I first watched the film. I was Tuco. I regretted not realizing this years ago, and if I had, even if my emotional experience had been different, I would have felt a sense of relief while watching his story. This revelation that I was a lot like him is why I was so shocked, as well as pleasantly surprised, that my film 'Force of Habit' was a finalist at Autism Uncut. Usually, the autistic people who get rewarded for their efforts, especially the autistic women, are pleasant, docile and charmingly quirky. I admit to being jealous of the selected Autism Ambassadors from various charities. I'm not a model or an actress, but a typical overly emotional artist.

I have spent my life being viewed as a troublemaker and I have come to believe it. I could have stopped to think that I was being misunderstood, but that didn't fit in with the emotionally secure society of the 2000s. I was always getting in trouble in school and with my family.

I tend to hurt others' feelings, even if there are times where I don't mean it. Often I would say something because I think it's funny, and people would misunderstand, which is strange, because usually people understand everything.

I get stressed easily, because I have physical impairments such as low pain tolerance, sensory sensitivity, dyspraxia and a lack of a sense of time, and I lash out at whatever is around me. You understand why that last part makes me a Tuco Ramirez fangirl. 

My need to have control in my life has caused me to be viewed as a brat. Maybe I am, even though I never intended to be one.

I embody everything that is ugly about autism, and that is not necessarily a bad thing when it comes to activism and advocacy. Even parents with misbehaving autistic children can lay claim to their children's innocence. I can be understood without being innocent, because I'm an adult and should know better. 

I don't have the social skills to be an ambassador, but I am no less autistic than Christine Martin McGuinness.