I recently bothered to watch the film Frozen. Honestly, I felt as though it is one of the best Disney films that has come out in the last few years. A friend of mine, Gillian Bobnak, wrote a concise review of the film, focusing on its appeal to audiences rather than its emotional spirit . I may be stealing the fires of creation, but it is to illuminate the passage between film and art. Returning to the subject, it is interesting that while people may think I have no opinions on fiction, I consider Frozen to be the best Disney film of the last half-decade.

Films are what their creators make them to be. In our childhood, the films showing the aspects of good filmmaking were generally made by Pixar, which has since been bought and is now a wholly owned subsidiary of Disney. In fact, Pixar’s CEO was later promoted to the head of Disney’s animation department. Although it may be too early to tell, it appears that the acquisition of Pixar has revitalized Disney Animation, providing it with considerable success over the last few years. However, some may argue that it is clear that Pixar’s work is now done; all that has been created recently are sequels to films that are already made, while their most iconic franchise, Toy Story, is complete. However, I digress.

In the past, Pixar showed the true essence of good filmmaking. Others have shown this, as good filmmaking makes profits soar. What all good films share in common is a plot, not enforced on the viewer, but created from the torrent of exposition. The films Gladiator and Frozen demonstrate this exceedingly well. In the first, Russell Crowe’s character is immediately thrown into the fires of war; then his patron and family killed, leading to the natural exposition of vengeance — the purpose of the character. Parallels exist with Frozen, where the exposition of magical powers immediately falls to the self-imposed exile of Elsa, who is afraid to hurt anyone until circumstances force her further to be exiled to a mountain, and later, her imprisonment before the climax of the film. Yet, the film carries the plot’s objective through, as Crowe is avenged and Elsa thaws, taking the mantle of leadership by the end of the film.

Another parallel to recognize is the fact that good filmmaking has many parallels with skillful novel writing, especially with regards to characterization. Characters are the essence of fiction, and the building block of sympathy. It is within them that the will of audiences to see their efforts through is created. Gladiator’s main premise, for example, is one that frames the actions of Maximus, the protagonist, as a great man, standing up for right and the Republic. It is a story, which builds on the modern audience’s disinclination for totalitarian autocracy. Frozen too, lives on the sympathies of the audience, hoping and willing for Elsa — the film’s true protagonist — to stop running from destiny and to embrace life, a life paradoxically consisting of experiences of her own exile.

While this may be a panegyric on the recent Disney movie, these two points summarize all that is good about all movies anywhere. While Disney stories may be inspired by what has come before, the classic movies of Stanley Kubrick are the Everest of filmmaking in a wholly original way. The best films show the delicate characterization and an incredible portrayal of sympathy. Frozen is good, likely great; and its musical score is truly enjoyable, and at the end — its characters are sympathetic to all walks of life. Let us hope that no sequels arise to blight the incandescence of perfection.