Coco

Sometimes, I think I'm cursed.

Because of something that happened before I was even born.

See, a long time ago,

there was this family.

The Papá, he was a musician.

He and his family would sing and dance

and count their blessings.

But he also had a dream.

To play for the world.

And one day,

he left with his guitar,

and never returned.

And the Mamá.

She didn't have time to cry over that walk-away musician.

After banishing all music from her life

she found a way to provide for her daughter.

She rolled up her sleeves,

and she learned to make shoes.

She could have made candy,

or fireworks,

or sparkly underwear for wrestlers,

but no,

she chose shoes.

Then she taught her daughter to make shoes.

And later,

she taught her son-in-law.

Then her grandkids got roped in.

As her family grew,

so did the business.

Music had torn her family apart.

But shoes held them all together.

You see that woman,

was my great great-grandmother,

Mamá Imelda.

She died way before I was born.

But my family still tells her story

every year on Día de los Muertos.

The Day of the Dead.

And her little girl,

she's my great-grandmother,

Mamá Coco.

Hola, Mamá Coco.

How are you, Julio?

Actually, my name is Miguel.

Mamá Coco has trouble remembering things.

But it's good to talk to her anyway.

So, I tell her pretty much everything.

I used to run like this.

But now I run like this which is way faster.

And the winner is...

Luchadora Coco!

I have a dimple on this side, but not on this side.

Dimple, no dimple. Dimple, no dimple.

Miguel, eat your food.

My abuelita,

she's Mamá Coco's daughter.

Oh, you're a twig, mijo.

Have some more. No, gracias.

I asked if you would like more tamales!

Sí?

That's what I thought you said!

Abuelita runs our house just like Mamá Imelda did.

No music!

No music!

I think we're the only family in México who hates music.

And my family's fine with that.

But me...

Be back by lunch, mijo. Love you, Mamá.

I am not like the rest of my family!

Hola, Miguel! Hola!

Muchas gracias. De nada, Miguel.

Hey! Dante!

Sit. Down.

Roll over. Shake.

Fist bump!

Good boy, Dante!

I know I'm not supposed to love music.

But it's not my fault!

It's his!

Ernesto de la Cruz.

The greatest musician of all time.

Right here in this very plaza,

Ernesto de la Cruz took his first steps...

toward becoming the most beloved singer in Méxican history.

He started out a total nobody from Santa Cecilia, like me.

But when he played music,

he made people fall in love with him.

He starred in movies.

He had the coolest guitar!

He could fly!

And he wrote the best songs.

But my all-time favorite, it's...

He lived the kind of life you dream about.

Until 1942.

When he was crushed by a giant bell.

I want to be just like him.

Sometimes, I look at de la Cruz

and I get this feeling

like we're connected somehow.

Like if he could play music,

maybe someday, I could too.

If it wasn't for my family.

Ay-ay-ay, muchacho.

I asked for a shoe shine not your life story.

Oh, yeah. Sorry.

I just can't really talk about any of this at home. So...

Look if I were you,

I'd march right up to my family and say...

Hey, I'm a musician. Deal with it.

I could never say that.

You are a musician, no?

I don't know.

I mean, I only really play for myself.

Did de la Cruz become the world's best musician by hiding his skills?

No!

He walked out onto that plaza

and he played out loud.

Mira, mira, they're setting up for tonight!

The music competition for Día de Muertos.

You want to be like your hero?

You should sign up!

My family would freak!

Look, if you're too scared then, well...

have fun making shoes.

Come on, what did de la Cruz always say?

Seize your moment?

Show me what you got, muchacho.

I'll be your first audience.

Miguel!

Abuelita! What are you doing here?

You leave my grandson alone.

Dona, please!

I was just getting a shine.

I know your tricks, mariachi.

What did he say to you?

He was just showing me his guitar.

Shame on you.

My grandson is a sweet little

angelito querido cielito. Little darling angel

He wants no part of your music, mariachi.

You keep away from him.

Ay, pobrecito. Oh poor.

Oh, estás bien, mijo. Oh you're fine, millet.

You know better than to be here in this place!

You will come home.

Now.

How many times have we told you?

That plaza is crawling with mariachis.

Yes, Tío Berto.

No, no, no, no, no!

Hey, go away, you. Go!

It's just Dante.

Never name a street dog.

They'll follow you forever.

Now, go get my shoe.

I found your son in Mariachi Plaza.

Ay, Miguel!

You know how Abuelita feels about the plaza.

I was just shining shoes.

A musician's shoes!

But the plaza's where all the foot traffic is.

If Abuelita says no more plaza,

then no more plaza.

But what about tonight? What's tonight?

Well, they're having this talent show.

And I thought I might...

Sign up? Well...

maybe?

You have to have talent to be in a talent show.

What are you gonna do?

Shine shoes?

It's Día de los Muertos.

No one's going anywhere.

Tonight is about family.

Ofrenda room. Vámonos. Offering room. Let's go.

Don't give me that look.

Día de los Muertos is the one night of the year

our ancestors can come visit us.

We've put their photos on the ofrenda

so their spirits can cross over.

That is very important.

If we don't put them up,

they can't come.

We made all this food,

set out the things they loved in life, mijo.

All this work to bring the family together.

I don't want you sneaking off to who knows where.

Where are you going?

I thought we were done.

Ay, Dios mio. Oh Lord.

Being part of this family means being here for this family.

I don't want to see you end up like... Like Mamá Coco's Papá?

Never mention that man!

He's better off forgotten.

But you're the one who...

I was just...

But... I...

Papá? Papá is home?

Mamá,

cálmese, cálmese.