Weekend Watch: Pocahontas

I just had the most intrusive experience watching Pocahontas.

This movie has been on my mind the past few weeks with no reasoning behind it. The 1995 Disney film has always been a work toward which I've had an affectionately jesting attitude, quoting memorable moments like "Can't think of any right now, but..." and "I like gruel!" to no end in any semi-related context. I don't remember the last time I saw it. I might have been twelve or thirteen, and it might have just been a scene or two. I watched it tonight, at twenty-three. And I just figured out what resonated with me.

I feel a little sheepish or idiotic writing an article about the Disney interpretation of Pocahontas, probably because I've made so much fun of it in the past and who can really identify with an animated movie as a twenty-three year old? Let me tell you. Pocahontas is a prominent figure in her tribe as the chief's daughter. She's a smart, strong, beautiful independent woman and she doesn't need a man to complete her. She doesn't play by the rules. Kocoum, who fights with the fierce strength of the bear, is the hottest guy on the east coast and she doesn't even bat an eyelash ("Can I ignore that sound of distant drumming for a handsome, sturdy husband who builds handsome, sturdy walls and never dreams that something might be coming just around the river bend?" Nah). Pocahontas is not what everyone thinks she is, and we have that in common. I've had people tell me I'm hard to interpret. That they can't quite figure me out. I like to hold that element of mystery about myself, but Pocahontas? She does it without even trying.

The savage and pale-faced cultures are completely foreign to each other. They don't know how to understand or even approach one another. With nothing but wanderlust and traveling to the ends of the earth on my mind recently, I can't help but long for the misinterpretations between one culture and another. I want that unfamiliarity. I want to encounter something new. I want to dive headfirst into the unknown without thinking about consequences.

I remember being a little girl and seeing the moonlit silhouette of the wolf crying to the blue corn moon shining on Pocahontas' face, wanting to feel the magic of twilight on my own skin. I remember seeing the wind blow through her hair and wondering if I would ever feel that free. Ten years later? Those feelings still run rampant through my soul, but there's so much more. The electric and tantalizing first time that the first time John Smith sees Pocahontas, almost unbelievably from behind the barrel of a gun. The bravery that Pocahontas exudes simply by trusting herself around John Smith, sharing her knowledge of the earth and her culture and the colors of the wind. That dazzling suede and fringed-out one-shoulder dress. Nakoma's loyalty to and love for her best friend. The way the wind blows through the trees, its twinkling leaves gathering, right when one needs to feel it. Even the visuals! The opening song, full of native life and magical, unreal scenery! The powerful stance of Chief Powhatan arriving back from war! The entrance to the watery glade when Pocahontas first visits the willow tree! The scene in the song Savages when Pocahontas cries "How loud are the drums of war?" The rain the night the settlers are setting up the fort fence! Even kooky Grandmother Willow and her loving and tender lookout for whatever is best for Pocahontas. I could go on for days. And then it all changes.

Blast, what sheer and utter foolishness comes upon our heroine. Pocahontas risks everything, realizing it or not (the movie flows too fast to tell), just to share a moment with her newfound lover John Smith. And then sweet little Thomas appears, trying to prove himself to their pompous blowfish of a governor: he tries to defend John Smith as Kocoum tries to protect Pocahontas. In a heartbreaking scene of anguish and consequent tribal unity, Kocoum is shot, killed, and carried away in as dignified a manner as the Powhatan warriors can manage. Chief Powhatan does not mess around with his daughter. He lays it out straight: "Because of your foolishness, Kocoum is dead." Chief Powhatan yelling at you must be the lowest of the gutter feelings. Only a momentary and deep, deep lapse in judgment would make you choose romantic love over the mighty, historical devotion to where you came from--your culture, your home, everything you believe in. And where did it lead her? To Kocoum's death. Her nation's hero. Thomas' single target. It's all over with the pull of a trigger from the weapon that spouts fire and thunder.

But amidst the war and despair that seems to face the fate of the Powhatan tribe, Pocahontas is able to release her feelings of fear and throw herself upon John Smith just before he is wrongfully executed as punishment for Kocoum's tragic death. Not only does Pocahontas sacrifice herself for love ("If you kill him, then you have to kill me too."), she inspires Powhatan to bring peace between the parties. He realizes where the path of hatred has brought them, acknowledging that Pocahontas speaks with wisdom beyond her years. We all fall short. Pocahontas proves that she can turn from her shortcomings and toward a peaceful, promising future.

As half of Disney movies go, a happy ending is not always at hand. After evil Governor Ratcliffe's attempt to chop the chief via gunshot goes awry and lands a bullet in John Smith's side, Smith's only chance at survival is a journey back to London aboard the Susan Constant. I forgot somehow, in the past ten years I haven't seen this movie, that John Smith asks Pocahontas to GO WITH HIM in the middle of their goodbye. What? "Come with me." She thinks about it. She looks back. She sees her family, she sees his (another scene I forgot to mention the beauty of in a previous paragraph). And she knows she must stay.

How fast does your heart race when she leaves the comforting hand of her father and runs as fast as she can through the woods to the foremost peak above the river? How many tears are streaming down your face as the ship exits the scene, sails billowing in the wind with "goodbye" as close to your heart as your ribcage rests? How deep does your stomach sink as John Smith lifts his hand to say "ana" as the leaves breeze through his hair? How hard is your heart wrenching as she waves back, noble and proud and heartbroken and windblown and as flawless as a Disney princess can be on top of the world?

All this to say that this movie is sticking with me at this point in my life. Pocahontas' initial problem at the beginning of the film is this: a recurring dream. She describes it to Grandmother Willow as a spinning arrow that suddenly stops, and there the dream ends. Pocahontas can't tell what the arrow is pointing to. And her question to Grandmother Willow is the question I've been asking myself daily for the past three months: "What is my path?" Pocahontas thought she found it once, meeting John Smith, and then over the course of the next hour he's gone again. I feel like this day in and day out as a twenty-something in the modern world. I find something I think I want, and an hour later, maybe realize it's not something I want so much anymore. A quarter-life crisis is becoming the daily routine for me.

I am well aware (and always have been) that I am an incredibly emotional individual, but it's a challenge for me now to listen to the "Farewell" score on the Pocahontas soundtrack and not well up with questioning tears about my future. Pocahontas and I are in the same spot now. What we once wanted is gone, and we have to find strength to move on and keep searching for something new. One challenge has been overcome. Another awaits you tomorrow. I can say from experience that it takes a strong woman to make it through the daily grind of modern society and corporate America. But living a life of adventure is the path I choose. What will yours be?

Is all my dreaming at an end, or do you still wait for me, Dreamgiver? *dah I just swoon and fall over at the sheer poetry of it all*