Mirabooposting

I wish you could see yourself the way I do… You are perfect just like this. You’re just as special as anyone else in this family.

Decay Isabela: Only if you also don't ask why.

Decay Isabela: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of their bag*

Wanderer Mirabel: ...

Julieta: Pepa... Pepa! Your foot is touching me!

Pepa: It's warm down there... My feet are cold.

Julieta: Yes, but it's my ass.

Bruno: Juli, are you still awake?

Julieta: Yes, Brunito. I was just talking to Pepa, right? A second ago?

Bruno: Do you think rats get songs stuck in their heads?

Julieta: Oh, my God. I don't know. Bruno, go to sleep.

I myself have said that I really like flawed characters who are good people at the same time, because it really makes you feel more for the character, they feel real, and part of the fun is understanding where they’re coming from. In the kitchen scene, she confronts Mirabel about the crack situation. Once Mirabel shows that she thinks she doesn’t believe her and says she would never ruin Antonio’s special night, Julieta responds with “I think tonight was hard for you”. It’s clear to the viewer that Julieta obviously doesn’t believe Mirabel regarding the cracks, nor really hears her out, but I just love that regardless, she tries to shower her daughter with love and appreciation. You see Mirabel clearly frustrated because her mother isn’t listening to her, even though what Julieta is doing is that….well you clearly see she’s a character who tries her best at all times, and that’s what I appreciate about her. Throughout the movie you see her worry and try to help Mirabel, saying she has nothing to prove, saying she’s special the way she is, telling Abuela to be easy on her, so Julieta to me, came off as one of those mothers who loves their child very much and tries to shower them with love, doing everything in their power to give them support and appreciation, even though at the same time, they can’t really understand just exactly what their child is going through, and they can’t really see through their eyes. She reminds me of a parent who tries their best to help, but in some situations isn’t really, even though you can tell they’re trying and that they love the other very much, and this is a GOOD thing. I love layered and complex characters so much, and it’s especially emotional to think about Julieta’s point of view.

In the official Encanto Art book (and yes I own one hehe), in the words of director Jared Bush himself, regarding Julieta, he states:

“She really tries, and her kids are her number one priority. She is the most empathetic member of the family, and while she is still imperfect, she tries her best to defend her daughter.”

Like I said, it’s one of the things you can appreciate about her. She really loves her daughters, and the fact that she’s trying her best despite being imperfect herself, is a really good thing. 🥺😭💕

Finally, I think the most important thing worth mentioning about Julieta is that in the official behind the scenes Encanto featurette titled “Familia Lo Es Todo”, an animator by the name of “Jorge E. Ruiz Cano”, had this to say about her:

“I know many Julieta’s, she’s trying to recognize Abuela’s traditions, but also validate and see the next generation coming in. She wants to please Abuela, she understand Abuela. She wants to please Mirabel, she understands Mirabel, and she loves them both. It’s beautiful to see the interaction of three generations!”

One-Year-Old Isabela

Agustín sat at the piano, clacking away at a melodious tune. He got lost in playing fairly often as his fingers swiftly graced the keys while Julieta and baby Isabela prepared for bed. Some people read before bed to relax, he enjoyed playing a few songs before bed. As he kept playing, a slight interruption occurred. A gentle tug on his pant leg signaled someone was in his presence. A glance down, a tiny face greeted him with a smile. 

“Pa,” the tiny baby babbled with a wide grin.

Agustín beamed at her, lifting his sweet baby up into his lap. Excited, Isa slapped the keys to the piano. A sound that would make most musicians cringe, he let his little girl play on the keys. Notes flew out from the most thunderous sound to the brightest bing as Isa played. Leaning against the doorframe, Julieta watched the duo clack away on keys. She could hear the encouraging words of her husband speaking softly to their baby. 

“Like this, amor,” Agustín gently pressed down on the key.

Isa giggled, resulting in more keys being pushed and more fun sounds filling the room. The duet’s laughter and the piano created the perfect melody for Agustín. Here was his sweet baby girl playing happily on the instrument he loved so much. He could only hope she would embrace a love for music like him. Watching his happy baby giggling and smiling, Agustín never wanted the moment to end. 

Five-year-old Isabela

“Here is the new sheet music that I came up with. Go ahead and give it a try,” He encouraged.

Isabela studied the music and began playing, “Papí, this note doesn’t make sense here. It should sound like this,” She said, hitting a different key.

He focused and asked her to play the original and the slight change. She played it twice as he listened intently.

“Ay Isa, you are a natural. That sounds much better,” Agustín smiled. 

Isabela beamed at her father’s words. He could feel her pride fill the room as she began to play again. Every note was hit with such grace at the right time. A smile appeared when he noticed the flower petals dance along the keys. It had only been a few months of her newly acquired flower power but a clear indication that Isa was happy playing. Everything from the sound to the petals showed that the little girl was feeling good and at peace. Another moment that Agustín was sure he never wanted to let go of.

Ten-year-old Isa

“It’s okay, it isn’t perfect,” Agustín reassured, turning the sheet music back to the beginning.

The song he had Isabela playing was a challenging piece of music. It wasn’t easy, but he would attempt to have her play it. She was so gifted at the piano that he wanted her to at least try. 

A frustrated sigh came from her mouth, followed by, “Why can’t I get it? It isn’t supposed to sound like that!“ 

She slammed the keys resulting in an unpleasant sound and flower petals fluttering everywhere. He sat back as Isabela’s elbow leaned on the keys. Her head fell into her hand as she looked down, not facing her father. She sat there tracing the keys with her fingers.

He sighed. Her perfectionist tendencies have always been there, but since her gift ceremony five years ago, her perfectionism had been in overdrive. 

"It’s not going to be perfect the first time you play it,” Agustin states.

Isabela continued looking down, “I’m not going to get it, Papí. I keep messing it up.”

“Isa,” He whispered, “I know it’s hard. It just takes a little while to learn it. It took me some time to learn this piece.”

“It has to be perfect!” She snapped. “I am trying, and it isn’t turning out! It has to be perfect, Papí!”

Agustín sighed, pushing her hair off her face. His heart hurt at his daughter’s frustration. He would never bring up his own frustrations about how much pressure was put on his daughter to uphold a standard at the mere age of ten. He took a breath and began to comment, “Mi flor, you will get this. Give it some time. I know you can do it. I want to remind you that it’s okay when things aren’t perfect. Sometimes things take time, and that’s okay too.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

Isa looked up at her dad and gave him a big grin. She vowed, “Okay, Papí. I will keep practicing, and it will be okay.” She began to play the piece again, not getting frustrated when she hit the wrong key, or the timing was off. Agustín would always be his girls’ biggest cheerleader in moments of doubt and uncertainty. A constant in their corner.

Fifteen-year-old Isabela

Julieta listened intently to how excited Agustín was for the new piece of music he found to play with Isabela. His voice practically sang. Julieta smiled at how happy her husband was that their eldest daughter played piano with him once a week since she was little.

She darted through the kitchen out of the door, not even acknowledging her parents, who stood there.

He jumped up and hollered after the blur that was his daughter, “Isa! Wait, what about your lessons today?”

She froze and turned slowly, “Abuela needs me to put some floral pieces together for the Contreras’s engagement party.”

“Well, I can go with you and help, then we can practice,” Agustín suggested.

“No, thank you, Papí,” Isabela muttered. “Plus, I think it’s better if I go by myself. We wouldn’t want any accidents.” She shrugged, giving her parents a half smile. As soon as the words left her mouth, Julieta closed her eyes, knowing they would hit him like a dagger.

A wave of devastation slapped him in the face. He stared at Isabela with hurt in his eyes. Looking away, he whispered, “Okay, Isa. Have fun.”

Julieta watched their daughter leave before looking at Agustín, who had already left the kitchen. Her heart broke for the two of them. Agustín just wanted to spend time with Isabela and do what they always enjoyed doing. However, the little girl, who spent time with her papí, was growing up.

20-Year-old Isabela

Agustín sat at the piano, scribbling some notes on the composition paper. Isabela walked by the music room when he looked up. 

“Isa!” He called to her, “Play some bars with me. For old time’s sake?" 

She paused and grinned, "Okay, Papí. I’ll play.” Agustín lept up, trying to play it cool. 

“Alright, I just threw this together. Try it out.” He set up the music on the piano ledge. She looked over the music, sitting down on the bench. Isa studied the music intently while placing her fingers on the keys to play. Like old times, she started to move among the keys. Playing like she never stopped, her father watched excitedly. She fell into playing the melody perfectly. A big smile draped across her face, a smile that Agustín hadn’t seen in a long time. A familiar scent found its way to his nose, the smell of heliconia, as flower petals flooded the keys. Agustín followed the music, bouncing between the sheet music and Isa’s delicate fingers. Every now and then, a chuckle or word of encouragement fell from his mouth. Soon, their moment was interrupted by the matriarch of the family.

“Isabela, what are you doing?” Alma asked. 

The young woman shot up, fixing her dress. “Ay, I’m sorry, Abuela. I was on my way–.”

“I asked her to play the new bars I wrote. It was my fault,” Agustín confessed. 

“Be sure that you finish your chores before playing around. Señora Guzmán is expecting flower samples for her granddaughter’s wedding bouquet,” Alma declared, adjusting her earring before walking out. 

Isa looked away shyly, upset that she had let herself get distracted. She hurried out of the piano room. 

“Sorry, Papí. I have to go. I’ll see you at dinner!”

“Isa, I am sorry! I didn’t mean to distract you!” Agustín yelled out for her, but Isa was out the door. A wave of disappointment crushed his heart.

22-Year-Old Isa

Agustín had finished organizing the music room in the newly built Casita. Since the fall, the family spent their days rebuilding Casita and making amends with one another. Apologies allowed among the family members allowed them to bond about things. Agustín was happy that his family began repairing their relationships with one another. Mirabel and Isabela cultivated a better relationship with each other that created a better relationship between the Madrigal sisters. Alma and Mirabel amended their relationship after several serious conversations. His heart soared that his family could bounce back after many years of differences. His heart bursted with gratitude at the thought his family healing. He finished placing the last tiple on the wall, startled by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his eldest daughter smiling at him. 

“Hola Papí,” Isa grinned, looking around the room. “It looks great in her better than it did before! I like how the tiple wall looks.”

“Ay, thank you. I wanted to try something new,” Agustín shrugged, looking at the wall. “I figured that the wall could use more decoration. Why not decorate them with instruments?" 

"I like it a lot. Very aesthetically pleasing to the eye,” Isabela beamed before whispering, “Umm, can I talk to you about something?”

“You know you always can. I’m always in your corner. I’m here to listen to you.” He was always the best listener, giving his full attention to whoever he was talking to.

“I would like to start off with an apology. Papí, I am sorry that I stopped playing piano with you.”

“Isa,” Agustín sighed. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do, though. Time always got away from me because of my chores. I never had time to do what I wanted like okay the piano and spend time with you. I hurt your feelings too. I worried about my image that I struggled with wanting to be around anything that could disrupt my image,” Isa confessed. “I’m so sorry, papí.” Tears rolled down her cheek as exasperated sighed fell from her mouth. Engulfing her in a giant embrace, she cried even harder.

“You have nothing to apologize for, mi flor,” her father comforted, hugging her. “I was never upset with you. At times, my feelings would be hurt but I never blamed you. You were growing up. No one wants their embarrassing dad around them." 

"I missed playing piano with you. I’m so for everything,” she cried, wiping her face, trying hard to collect herself.

Agustín held his daughter, whispering that it would be okay and there was no reason to feel guilty. He assured her that they would be alright and his love for her would never falter no matter what.

Isa pulled away, looking up at her father with a great feeling of admiration. “Pa, do you know what would make me feel better?”

“What’s that, mija?”

Isa walked over to the piano and pressed a key. A grin crept on her face, “Do you have time for a piano lesson?" 

Agustín’s sudden smile lit up the room erasing all the memories of lost time. He leaned against the piano, "Of course. What would you like to play?”

i present to you: julieta's freckles. that's all