One of the benefits of being the industry leader in animation is that a more diverse range of stories can be told. I have previously expressed my concerns with the direction Disney and Pixar are heading with many of their films, with much of their recent input being disappointing to say the very least. However, they do occasionally produce something extraordinarily special, which mostly comes in instances where they hire more diverse voices to helm these productions. There’s always value in seeing someone have their own stories told on screen, so it’s hardly surprising that the best works Pixar have produced in the last decade have been more culturally-resonant and drawn from sources that are a lot closer to the hearts of the people involved in their creation. This is extremely evident in the case of Turning Red, the feature-length directorial debut for Domee Shi, who had an existing relationship with the company (having made the incredible short film Bao, which is one of the best produced by Pixar). The story of a young girl of Asian descent growing up in the melting pot of Toronto in the early 2000s clearly has a special place on the director’s heart, as she weaves together a thrilling and captivating fantasy comedy that is one of the stronger offerings we’ve seen come from the studio in the past couple of years. Inspired by a range of styles and genres, and made with the fierce dedication that is so admirable in younger filmmakers who acknowledge and appreciate the opportunity to have their voices heard, Turning Red is an absolute delight, a sweet and endearing comedy that has its heart and soul in the right place, and the irreverent humour that makes it so incredibly captivating.

Turning Red may be small, but it packs a considerable punch and has a fantastic spring in its step, which is undeniably the result of the director being given the opportunity to tell a story that means a lot to her, drawing from her own experiences growing up in the early 2000s in a country distant from her homeland. Many animated films tend to have difficulty knowing exactly how to handle coming-of-age stories, since there is a very narrow boundary between telling stories that are relatable to children, and those which are a bit too bleak or challenging for them to fully understand – after all, these films exist primarily to entertain, with any educational information being merely supplementary. Turning Red not only embraces the more challenging concepts, it centres the entire story on them, and proves that serious conversations can still be had in between hilarious moments. The film focuses on its protagonist entering into the early stages of her maturity, with her process of “turning red” (whereby she transforms into an enormous red panda as a result of her intense emotions) being an obvious analogy for the menstrual cycle. In theory, this seems like a tricky subject to base a film around, and one that could easily be mishandled. Yet, the minority opinion that outcries the decision to not only have the film orbit around this natural, biological process, but also proudly address it without needing to conceal it under the guise of mere implication, is outdated and inappropriate, much more than anything contained within this film. Turning Red understands that a coming-of-age story involves much more than just the traditional scratches and scrapes that come with entering into adolescence, and it is even more admirable for not choosing to hide these conversations, but rather have them at the very centre of the story.

What makes Turning Red so effective is that it is clearly targeted at a specific group (and it is proudly and unabashedly insistent in its dedication to primarily being made for younger people, particularly girls, who are starting the intimidating journey from childhood to adulthood) – but yet, you don’t need to be strictly in this demographic to enjoy the film, since the director makes sure that the approach is one that doesn’t distract from the clear themes, but rather addresses them in a way that is both resonant for those who it was directed at, and extremely accessible to outsiders, the film serving two clear functions that make it an even more impressive achievement. The film is situated within a very particular moment in time, one that is relatable to a wider audience, but still extremely specific, which makes Turning Red as much about the main character’s journey towards maturity as it is about her cultural background. The film emphasizes its Canadian background (with the director herself being a first-generation immigrant to Canada from an early age), and setting it within Toronto, which is known to be a home for a diverse range of cultures, adds to the very distinct nature of the film, which draws on the idea of being united through shared differences. As much as Turning Red centres on a young woman starting to realise she is undergoing changes, the film is also about reconciling tradition with modernity, which is a discussion that is frequently had in works targeted at slightly older audiences – so to see it represented here with candour and wit only adds to the impact made by this film.

Another of the strengths of this film is that it knows exactly how to balance the tone with the humour. When confronted with the opportunity to be heavy-handed, the film chooses to go the other direction, not neglecting the more serious subject matter that has to do with maturity, as well as cultural issues, blending them together to form this incredibly funny, but also deeply complex story of coming to terms with one’s identity. The film avoids cliche – the main character’s mother is tough but still loving (avoiding the convention of mistaking strict parents or authority figures for villains – credit must be given to Sandra Oh for her heartbreakingly beautiful performance as the protagonist’s mother), and their culture is shown as stern but never restrictive, the director ensuring that she pays adequate tribute to her Chinese roots through celebrating the beauty of the culture, which includes how it is embraced by those in the diaspora. Turning Red is about not only appreciating one’s background, but also finding the space in one’s heart to genuinely love it. Shi has such a clear fondness for her background, and she finds increasingly smart ways to discuss both the central premise of the film, and the underlying themes surrounding culture, which make for a multilayered film that notably avoids all sense of being conventional through making sure that, regardless of the content of a scene, that it contributes to a wider discussion, rather than just going through the motions normally associated with these kinds of stories. It makes a big difference, and forces Turning Red to become a much more complex film than it appears to be on the surface.

Turning Red wears its heart on its sleeve, and understands exactly how to curate its themes to be effective, without losing sight of the ultimate intention, which was to entertain viewers. The film may be targeted at younger audiences (since the humour is certainly pitched to those around the age of the main characters), but like any good Disney or Pixar film, it is not difficult for those of us who are older than the intended demographic to get lost in this world and enjoy it for what it is. There are countless moments where the viewer is invited to venture into the heart of this version of Toronto, surrendering ourselves to the peculiar charms of a film that employs humour that may be seen as infantile, but in a way that anyone with a sense of childlike joy will find endearing, which is exactly what this film is intent on promoting. Beautifully made (the animation is absolutely stunning), featuring some terrific vocal performances from a diverse cast, and made with the dedication of someone who was truly passionate about telling this story, Turning Red is an absolute delight, and one of the stronger offerings Pixar has put out in quite some time, proving that the key to revitalizing one’s image isn’t through ambitious ideas or far-fetched plots, but rather giving a platform to a wider range of artists to have their voices heard, which rarely (if ever) tends to fail, with this film providing evidence to the fact that there is always merit in stories that represent a broader range of backgrounds, some of them often being amongst the most endearing of their respective years, such as this marvellous and endearing little film.