In 2002, I found myself glued to a movie-theater seat as I gazed upon the tale of a young Hawaiian girl and her newfound alien friend unfolding on screen. It wasn’t the melted candy though that kept me stuck, it was the raw and genuine portrayal of an unconventional family like my own that I had never seen depicted on-screen before.
Even now, I can’t help but reflect on just how real Lilo & Stitch was and how relevant it still is today. The film, which premiered 15 years ago today, pushed what American animated films for families could show and say, and it did so with such beautiful artistry. Had the death of a parent been covered in an animated Disney film before? Yes. But had it been done to such realistic authenticity? Not so much.
For a kid like me who was raised by my grandmother and knew my mother had been killed, I didn’t often see families in the media that so closely mirrored my own. I always wondered why other kids didn’t have social workers checking in on their safety, or court dates or legal papers to fill out.
Lilo & Stitch showed social services in action and portrayed a strikingly realistic scenario. Namely, that if Lilo’s older sister, Nani, doesn’t find a job, she might lose custody of her little sister. In one scene, Lilo is taken away from her and loaded into a car as Nani cries out, being held back by firefighters. The raw emotions and lack of pulling punches is something I wasn’t used to at the time. Lilo & Stitch touches on the real issues that follow parental death, as well as the psychological aftermath that affects those left behind.
On top of that, Lilo is different, and the girls in her class are never shy to let her know they think she’s a weirdo. “You better not have rabies” one states, and then gasps in horror at her handmade doll. Lilo even feeds peanut butter sandwiches to a fish that “controls the weather” which the other girls sneer at.
As a gay kid I always knew I was different, but having dead parents made me really different. I was often mocked for being too girly, for my lack of coordination in sports, or for defending bugs from the boys who wanted to crush them. Essentially, I was bullied for being too sweet. And the minute kids got wind that my mother was killed, they liked to use that against me too.
For me, Lilo & Stitch was a sanctuary. A portrayal of an authentic family like my own. Lilo was weird and unafraid to be exactly who she was, despite the upturned noses of her peers. But there was still a sense of loneliness radiating from her that echoed feelings of my own. This relation is what lead me to get a tattoo of Lilo holding her fish, Pudge, on my leg when I worked at Disney World. Sometimes people question why I got “a cartoon” permanently etched on my body and I wonder if they ever knew what it felt like to be the loneliest kid in the world.
When you realize Lilo’s parents died in a rainstorm the reason she is so fixated on a fish who “controls the weather” makes so much more sense. She doesn’t want to lose anyone, just like I was afraid to lose what little family I had left. It’s why Lilo quickly latches on to Stitch because he’s different like her. All she wants is just one friend that will make her feel like less of an alien in her own life. When he chooses to leave all she says, “Ohana means family. Family means ‘no one gets left behind.’ But if you want to leave, you can. I'll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.” At ten-years-old I held back tears, not quite knowing how this animated character was able to pull my own feelings out of my head and slather them across the screen.
I couldn’t help but feel Lilo’s loneliness and isolation as a reflection of my own struggles finding community as a gay kid and child of dead parents.
As a gay person, it’s also difficult not to read into some of the film’s subtext. The aliens who come to capture Stitch, Jumbaa and Pleakly, often read as a depiction of a gay couple. They pose as a man and lady at first, with Pleakley in drag. As the film progresses, he seems to enjoy the clothes and wigs and continues to wear them in all the following straight-to-DVD sequels as well as the spin-off TV series. The two choose to stay with Lilo, Nani, and Stitch, becoming almost like two dads in their unconventional family.
This feels more intentional when you know that one of the co-directors for the film, Dean DeBlois, is gay. The supervising animator for Lilo’s character, Andreas Deja, who is also gay and known for his animating work on Scar in The Lion King, Jafar in Aladdin and Gaston in Beauty & the Beast.
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On top of the film being released during Gay Pride Month, on June 26, 2015, gay marriage was legalized in the United States. Serendipitously, the date is 6/26, much like Stitch’s original name, Experiment 626. This lead co-director Dean DeBlois to create an illustration of Stitch with a Gay Pride flag to commemorate. For a kid like me who grew up feeling like a freak, only finding comfort in films like Lilo & Stitch it almost feels like a high five from someone who helped me feel a little less alone.
When people say the Lilo tattoo on my leg is “Cute” or “You must be a Disney fan!” I have to refrain from telling them it’s so much more than that.
Related: 'Moana's Directors on LGBTQ Disney Princess: “The Possibilities Are Pretty Open”
