Stories are powerful. Everything we know about ourselves, and about the world, is codified into stories. Some of the stories we make up ourselves. Most of the stories, we hear… and then make up something about. Often, our mind doesn’t know which are which. This conflux of narratives gives us our experience of life, and they tell us who we are, and who we are not, tell us who others are, and how others are not, and tell us how the world is, and how it is not.
That’s why, when we see these kinds of possibilities and are shown wonderful examples of powerful transformation on the screen, they all becomes a part of us. Possibility begets possibility. When possibilities are shared, they create space for possibilities for others. They alter our worldview, and thus, our world.
As we journey along with Nick and Judy, as we witness and experience their trials and triumphs, we too gain access to this world of possibility.
Equally important, we get to see that the path is not an open road. It is one that is littered with pitfalls and upsets. We equally get to see that is OK. That is how it goes. Not everything is fatal. We can clean it up. We can make amends. We can forgive. Things take time.
Sometimes, there will be strong and entrenched forces in our way. That too is OK. That’s how it goes. We can regroup and continue. Rome (and Zootopia) wasn’t built in a day, nor did it fall apart in a day. There is history there. It takes time to write new history.
And then, there lies the biggest barriers before us: those within ourselves. We’re all faced with incidents and failures in our past, our weaknesses, and our nagging, persistent, unproductive ways of being. And yet… those weaknesses are just another reminder of something. “Hey, glass half full,” says Judy in her speech at the end of the movie, ” we have a lot in common!”
In both our desires and our faults, we share a common bond.
We need this kind of storytelling. We need this kind of experience. Stories are potent because they can create experiences as real as our own. Zootopia seeps deeper into us than we might expect because it talks directly to us, entering our imaginations with grace and honour and respect. Zootopia possesses a visceral intimacy that bypasses our knowledge and our “yeah, buts…” to dance directly with our human spirit.
The creators at Disney didn’t have to do this, of course. They didn’t need to write this kind of insightful and profound meditation on life. They could have made a silly movie filled with animal hijinks and called it a day. That they didn’t speaks to their commitment to what storytelling can achieve.
The brilliance of Zootopia is in these two main characters. Judy is us. Nick is us. They start in very different spaces and places. Neither is a paragon of the animal kingdom. But in the end, they achieve remarkable wisdom, together.
Zootopia reminds us what who we truly want to be, opens us up to possibility, and shows us the path to take while giving us the gumption to see it through along the messy road.
That is everything great storytelling can do.