The God-like voice of Sigourney Weaver says: rescue, rehab, release.
Hank the squid says: “No memory…no problems.” Sounds nice, freeing in a way, but Dory will never be truly free until she faces her past, remembers her past. Not so easy when one has short-term memory loss.
Finding Dory was dedicated to the families of the film makers. I am late to this review, if that’s what you want to call it, but really it’s a reflection.
I saw this movie, originally, in the theatre when it came out last summer. However, it’s six months since that summer day I ate candy for lunch and enjoyed the Finding Nemo sequel, in the most luxurious recliner seats, with my young nephew, at his first movie with his aunt. He didn’t quite have the ability to sit still for the entire time, so he spent a lot of it climbing on his chair and turning around to face those sitting behind us.
I sat there, glad of the creature comforts and sugar rush, but listening to and thankful for the descriptive track playing out the details of the film in my ears. All the messages about disability and acceptance washing over me. Pardon that water pun.
Was I going to want to write about those things? Did I have a need to? Who would be there, wherever “there” was, to listen?
Life’s more about the journey than the destination. Dory and friends travel, from Australia, all the way to California.
This film is all about family, be it the cuddle party of otters, the family Dory lost and is now desperate to find, or the one you can make out of anyone whom you come to care about, just like Dory, Nemo, and Marlin did in the first instalment.
I am thinking about Family Day and families, the strength they offer us to feel like, even in times of fear and uncertainty, we can do what it takes, that we will be okay.
I don’t do real well with the timing, timeliness of a piece of writing I get the idea to do, but then where to share it?
I did not write this review for the movie’s release last summer. It’s only now, now that I came across it, the movie on Netflix and available with descriptive, that on this Family Day I am writing about the sweetness to be found in this film and the lessons I believe it teaches us, at any age, about acceptance of all kinds of people/creatures, no matter their abilities, that all of us possess strengths and weaknesses, but that we depend on others to help us and complement us, that together we are capable of anything.
“I like sand. Sand is squishy.”
“I like shells.” Dory’s mother Jennie loves the purple shells.
“Just follow the shells.”
“Just keep swimming.”
What would Dory do?
You know the saying: just do what Dory would do.
But what do you do when you can’t see through the murky water in front of you?
I saw myself in her, in Dory, as she is lost, blue and yellow in a sea of darker green, the kelp forrest. Her father’s affectionate parental name for her was Kelpcake. Get it?
I just love sea humour.
If you haven’t yet seen Finding Dory, it’s a teaching tool at any age.
There’s the whale shark (Dory’s childhood pipe pal) that can’t see all that well and the beluga whale who has suffered a head injury and feels his echo location is damaged. They help each other out.
It’s about long lost memories, never forgetting deep down and where it counts, and about seeing the value in others and in ourselves to come through.
These Finding Nemo/Dory stories are also all about going on a journey, at their core, whether planned or unplanned. Dory teaches that to not have a plan can turn out to be the best plan of them all.
So many people going on journeys of their own these days. I was one of them recently, but I feel like that was then and this is now. I have no real plan for now. I suppose the journey keeps on going, even when it seems to slow down. Is that okay, to not have one of those going forward? Is it ever really okay for a thirty-three-year-old to not have a plan?
When I watch such a movie as Finding Dory, with the character brought to life in such a way that only Ellen could play it, I want to say that my best plan, as far as I can see, is to “just keep swimming. Swimming. Swimming.”