THE BOOK OF LIFE. Fascinating Subject for Analysis

The Book of Life is a multi-layered story — both in its narrative structure and in the number of layers within its depicted world. We pass through the lands of the dead, the world of the living, and the cave of the Candle Maker, the guardian of the living. The creators lead us into the main plot through a school group visiting a history museum. The guide, however, doesn’t lead her guests through the main entrance but through a portal hidden in a stone wall. Naturally, this is meant to spark curiosity — not only among the children visiting the museum, but above all, in the viewer. It signals a journey along a less-traveled path.

The students enter a hall adorned with artifacts straight from Mexico. The room is filled with objects and decorations referencing the Mexican Day of the Dead. At its center lies the titular Book of Life — a massive tome collecting all the stories of the world, from epics about wars and great heroes, to innocent adventure tales, to romantic ballads.

Director and screenwriter Jorge Gutiérrez is interested in a story with a mythical character. It intertwines the fates of humans and gods: Xibalba, ruler of the gloomy Land of the Forgotten, and La Catrina, lady of the joyful Land of the Remembered. During the Day of the Dead festivities, these gods make a wager about which of two boys playing in a cemetery will win the heart of María. Joaquín is a young athlete raised to be a soldier, flaunting his strength and always ready to brandish his sword. Manolo, the film’s main protagonist, is far more sensitive and gentle. His defining prop is a guitar, and his passion is music.

Manolo’s interests do not please his father, who tries hard to persuade him to continue the family tradition and become a bullfighter. The father-son conflict forms one of the film’s key dramatic axes.

The boys each try, in their own way consistent with their personalities, to win María’s heart. Their rivalry would not matter so much if it weren’t for the divine bet. If Xibalba’s protégé Joaquín wins, La Catrina must relinquish her rule over the Land of the Remembered, allowing her rival to take the throne. This could have significant consequences — not only for those who have already left the mortal world.

The creators of The Book of Life avoid a stark division between good and evil. Manolo and Joaquín are friends who happen to fall for the same girl. They don’t resort to trickery or deceit; they treat each other with honor — both as children and later, as mature men. They live by the rule: may the best one win. Instead of seeking each other’s weaknesses, they strive to better themselves. It is precisely from the confrontation of these two attitudes that the film’s wisdom emerges. The value of fair competition, respect for one’s rival, and playing fair — these are lessons every child should learn as early as possible.

Equally intriguing is the relationship between Xibalba and La Catrina. Their bet doesn’t stem from eternal conflict, but rather from boredom. The ruler of the Forgotten is tired of his foggy, cold chambers, while La Catrina, confident and composed, accepts the challenge out of a desire to prove her importance in their relationship. Indeed — they are partners, fascinated lovers. The wager is a form of flirtation, a playful test of power. And they don’t treat humans as mere pawns: Manolo and Joaquín are not anonymous pieces on a chessboard. The gods follow their fates with genuine interest and interfere from the very start.

The psychological depth of the characters and the convincingly portrayed motivations are among the strongest aspects of The Book of Life. Another pleasant surprise is the absence of easy-to-judge villains — the characters are far less predictable than those typically found in Disney or DreamWorks films. In Gutiérrez’s world, all the main characters are essentially good, with a sound and stable moral compass.

The creators are fully aware that the film’s setting determines its symbolic scope. Though reflections on family tradition, gratitude, and duty toward ancestors do not dominate the romantic plot, the authors manage to weave in several beautiful metaphorical scenes and images that explore deeper themes. The Book of Life dazzles with visual richness and lavish staging. Yet its spectacle never overshadows its emotional depth. Perhaps the balance between drama and action owes something to Guillermo del Toro, who co-produced the film.

The Book of Life is certainly a fascinating subject for analysis — though not a flawless film. Its use of American pop songs sung by Manolo feels somewhat forced. While I have nothing against classics by Elvis Presley or Radiohead, they don’t quite fit the distinct cultural tone of The Book of Life. I also have reservations about the antagonist who appears out of nowhere in the third act and is treated rather instrumentally — he seems to exist only to test Joaquín and highlight his transformation. Gutiérrez uses this opponent as a narrative shortcut — one that feels unnecessary, since the plot had already gained sufficient stakes and emotional weight earlier.

Despite a few scratches and a slightly creased cover, The Book of Life remains a film worth seeing. It’s inventive and imaginative cinema, carrying a subtle message about the culture of fair competition — a message worth remembering not only for the young.