I am sitting in a suburban cinema with my two teenage sisters and roughly six birthday parties’ worth of eight-year-old girls. I am nervous, but ready. I have been training for this moment since I purchased the film’s soundtrack; those songs now occupy ten spots in my 25 Most Played on iTunes.
There is a five-beat silence in which I manage to have an intense existential crisis. Will I be the only one singing? How quickly can someone give themselves nodules? Should I be putting more energy into smoking pot in the back rooms of pubs while discussing Foucault instead of trawling through the “Frozen GIF” Tumblr tag?
My fears are instantly alleviated when as one, raspberry slushie-fuelled choir we sing the protagonist’s inspirational first lyric: “Do you wanna build a snowman?”
I have found my people.
Frozen, Disney’s latest effort, is equal parts musical film and religious text. The movie’s feminist plotline and catchy, Academy Award-winning songs have earned it quite the cult following.
So it was a stroke of pure marketing genius when Event Cinemas decided to run ‘Sing-a-Long’ Frozen screenings across Sydney at just $6 a head (because, apparently, people should be charged LESS for [a] a limited edition song sheet, [b] the ability to sing/recite dialogue/openly weep in the cinema, and [c] self-actualisation).
I am a serious member of the cult. So serious that I feel a wave of nausea when the opening notes of the film’s iconic ‘Let it Go’ invites a young girl to exclaim, “This is my favourite song.”
Puh-lease, kid. My favourite song is ‘For the First Time in Forever (Reprise)’, closely followed by the instrumental ‘Vuelle’, which plays during the opening Disney animation. ‘Let it Go’ was cool back in January. Spend some more time with the text you filthy amateur.
Oh, and that note that Tony award-winner Idina Menzel murdered at the Oscars? You know, the one that lasts for actual days? The kid in the reindeer antlers with a mouth full of popcorn absolutely nails it.
Together we belt our way through Princess Elsa’s journey of self-discovery and sisterhood. The girls from Jessica’s birthday party transpose Kristoff’s ‘Reindeers are Better than People’ up an octave with ease. My sisters and I sing ‘Fixer Upper’ in twenty-nine perfectly executed parts. The whole cinema wonders if the woman up the front actually likes singing, or has been forced to attend sing-a-long screenings of films due to her screeching laugh.
And then, it is all over. Demi Lovato plays and we exit the cinema. Best $6 I have ever spent.