About “Coco” in a few words:

‘Coco’ is an animated film by Disney-Pixar that delves into the traditions of Dia de Los Muertos, a Mexican Day of the Dead festival. The story follows Miguel, a young boy with dreams of becoming a musician, despite his family’s age-old ban on music. When he finds himself in the Land of the Dead, he embarks on an enchanting journey, meeting his ancestors, uncovering family secrets, and pursuing his passion.

Meet the characters from Coco

Miguel

Miguel is a ball of stubborn, sunlit energy who would rather risk the world than stop singing — seriously, he lives for music and it shows in everything he does. He’s that mix of wide-eyed idealist and relentless doer: sneaks off with a guitar, argues with elders, and insists on following his heart even when it’s ridiculous. Sweet, impulsive, and awkward in the best way — he grins too big, speaks too loudly, and sometimes makes decisions with his stomach, not his brain. Also kind of funny how he treats his family like they’re both the enemy and the whole point of his rebellion (loving but defiant? yes). And okay, he can be annoyingly brave — but he also notices small things, like a faded photograph or a lyric, and that’s what makes him more than just a hero-in-training.

Mamá Imelda

Mamá Imelda is the iron-willed matriarch with a closet full of rules and a heart you only notice after she slams the door (metaphorically, sometimes literally). She banned music with righteous fury but also adores family above all — strict as a judge but secretly a softie, which is confusing in a very lovable way. She moves like she’s always in charge, fixed hairstyle and all, and there’s this tiny nostalgic thing where she hums under her breath even though she insists she hates songs. So yeah she’s unforgiving when she needs to be, but stubborn loyalty is her true language; she forgives on her own weird timetable. Also she has a ridiculous fondness for shoes or crates or something? (I might be mixing that up) — point is, she is dramatic and unforgettable.

Héctor

Héctor is the roguish, charming skeletal trickster whose grin sells you a million apologies before you even ask for one. He’s a little slippery, unreliable in a “can’t-trust-a-trust-fall” way, but also heartbreaking because he remembers songs and stories better than he remembers his own name sometimes. Funny, generous, clever, and somehow a master of disappearing acts (and dad jokes?), he smells faintly of old spice and street tacos in my head — weird detail, I know. Beneath the jokes, though, is this deep, wobbly yearning to be seen and remembered, which turns the mischief into something really tender. Also he’s prone to dramatic exits and last-minute heroics — unpredictable but absolutely lovable.

Ernesto de la Cruz

Ernesto de la Cruz is glitter, charisma, and a camera-ready smile that could sell you anything — especially himself. He’s the kind of star who basks in applause and crafts an image so polished it almost gleams, like every hair strand is an agenda. People think he’s generous and inspiring (and he is, in a way) but there’s a sharp, hungry edge underneath — a hunger for fame that makes him dangerous. He’s funny and charming in public, but selfish and theatrical in private, and also somehow composes achingly beautiful songs while being supremely dramatic about them. Also tiny, probably useless detail: he definitely carries a handkerchief and has some weirdly specific hat tilt — theatrics are everything to him.

Mamá Coco

Mamá Coco is this quiet, tender anchor — frail maybe, but as wide as the whole family’s memory, and somehow gentle in the way a house creaks. She forgets things sometimes (which is sad but also kind of human) and then remembers the most important faces like a map; it’s weirdly powerful. She doesn’t say much, but when she does it lands — little pauses, long blinks, tiny smiles — and you feel like she contains whole stories behind one look. There’s a sleepy humor about her, too, like she might hum wrong words to a song but mean them perfectly, and she’s got this tiny brittle stubbornness that makes her very real. Also she probably keeps a secret stash of candies or buttons? — small comforts, old things, and family photos are her whole aesthetic.