12.7.24
Second Review of Moana 2 From a Critical Lens
When I wrote my first review of Moana 2, I reflected on the power of storytelling, particularly when it comes to our Pasifika heritage. I encouraged us to hold space for both critique and appreciation—to celebrate the visibility the film brings while remaining aware of the complexities of how our stories are told. Now, as I think more deeply, I will review it from a critical lens, especially about the younger generation in my family, I have a question for you:
Do you know your story? Do you know your people’s talanoa (stories)?
Ko ho’o ha’u mei fe? ‘Oku ke ‘ilo ho’o talanoa?
I hope we’re not relying on Disney to teach us about our cultural heritage. When someone else tells our story, it comes with a twist—and a cost. The twist is that palangi (foreigners) will always frame it through their lens. What is the cost? Exploitation. While Moana 2 showcases Pasifika culture beautifully, it’s essential to ask who benefits. Disney has made billions off these films, yet our islands and communities see little of that profit. Couldn’t a company of Disney’s magnitude contribute to fighting climate change, which directly impacts many of our islands? Or perhaps fund scholarships for Pasifika youth to help preserve and promote our culture?
As I said before, the best way to tell our talanoa is for us to tell it ourselves. Share them with your children, your family, and your community. Write books. Create short films. Use your gifts to tell our truths.
And another thing—I’ve seen many of our Pasifika people engaged in debates on social media about identity, race, and ethnicity. While these talanoa (conversations) can be insightful and thought-provoking, they can also become exhausting. It’s difficult to have meaningful dialogue with those who lack the same depth of knowledge, lived experience, or cultural roots. Everyone views the world from a unique position shaped by their background and privileges. Colonization, at its core, seeks to erase these differences—pressuring us to conform to its standards while erasing the richness of our identities and cultures.
A vital part of preserving our culture and talanoa is language. Do you speak your cultural language? For many in the diaspora, the importance of our native languages is often overlooked. Native speakers acquire the language naturally at home, not in a classroom. When we fail to pass on our languages, we fail to pass on our culture—and in doing so, we risk fulfilling the colonizer’s agenda. Language is a core part of identity, and its loss leads to the erosion of cultural knowledge and traditions. To speak only the colonizer’s language and embrace only the master’s culture, including religion, is to slowly lose ourselves. Valuing and preserving our native languages is an act of resistance, resilience, and love for our heritage.
Still, I have to acknowledge the film’s positives. Moana 2 represents Pasifika people from across Polynesia, Micronesia, and Melanesia. This is a big deal. Representation matters—not just in movies, but also in classrooms, corporate boardrooms, and churches. And it’s worth noting how far we’ve come. The film avoids the stereotypical portrayals of Pasifika people as savages or troublemakers, which we’ve seen far too often in media.
For example, think of the offensive depictions in Jonah from Tonga (the TV mini-series) or the 2014 Sochi Olympics, where Tonga’s representation was reduced to a marketing ploy by a German underwear company. In my critique of the Sochi debacle, I wrote:
“If imperialism and colonialism are defined by acts in which a dominant culture marginalizes subgroups and exploits a minority group, then this is precisely what happened… While the physical presence of Tonga was clearly represented at the Olympic Winter Games, the name Bruno Banani is anything but representative of the island kingdom and its rich culture and traditions.”
(You can read the full critique on my blog: Representation Matters.)
So, while Moana 2 isn’t perfect, it’s an opportunity and a gateway to something greater. It offers visibility and a chance for us to reflect on our talanoa. It’s a reminder of the importance of owning our stories and the urgency of preserving the cultural pillars that sustain them, like language.
Ultimately, Moana 2 shines a light on the resilience, beauty, and interconnectedness of our people. But it’s up to us to take it further—celebrating our heritage, challenging exploitation, and ensuring that our talanoa remains vibrant, authentic, and unapologetically ours.
Malō ‘aupito. ‘Ofa atu. Folau ā.
sela finau