A couple of weeks ago, I was feeling tired and stressed, so when I was looking for a movie to watch, I found myself turning to The Emperor’s New Groove, and I realized that it’s become my main comfort movie. I think I watch it at least twice a year. It’s short, sweet, and laugh-out-loud funny. But what makes it something I watch over and over again when I need to boost my mood? Since my life’s motto is “If it’s Worth Analyzing, It’s Worth Overanalyzing,” I put some thought into it.

For those not familiar with this movie, it’s an animated Disney movie that supposedly went through a really troubled production history and that flew under the radar to the point that I wasn’t aware it existed until I was babysitting for a friend and it was what the kid wanted to watch. It’s the story of a selfish, spoiled young Incan emperor who gets turned into a llama by his scheming advisor and has to rely on the peasant he’s planning to displace so he can build a water park for himself in order to get back to the palace and get turned back into a human. A buddy road trip story ensues.

One reason it’s a comfort movie is that it’s guaranteed to make me laugh. The humor is really densely layered, with a lot of subtle sight gags and sly references. No matter how many times I’ve watched it, I find some new little gem I never noticed before. There’s also fun in spotting and anticipating the running gags (“Wrong lever!”). I’m amused by the way they fit all the pop culture anachronisms into that setting. What would a diner look like in the ancient Andes? The whole movie is so funny and silly that by the end of it I’ve smiled and laughed enough that my mood actually changes.

But it’s also oddly profound, with one of the better redemption arcs I’ve seen. I guess it’s a spoiler to say that the emperor does get redeemed, but that’s pretty obvious for this kind of movie. I find that the transformation really works here because we see how hard it is for him to get over his selfishness and self-centeredness to gain empathy and realize that the world doesn’t have to revolve around him. The peasant (voiced by John Goodman) is a truly good person who is kinder to the emperor than the emperor deserves, but that sort of kindness is exactly what he needs. By the end of the movie, you believe the transformation really will work and last. The story is well structured to set it all up, with some full-circle callbacks so you can see how the character has learned and changed.

Meanwhile, the true villain gets a satisfying comeuppance and the slow-witted henchman figures out the difference between right and wrong. He’s never truly bad and messes up when he can’t go through with doing something wrong, but it takes him a while to come to the conclusion that working for the villain is a bad idea. On this latest viewing, I found myself thinking that I really need a Kronk, someone to cook me delicious food and do my bidding. (apparently, there’s a sequel about Kronk and a TV series, which I need to watch)

The good guys are truly good, honest people, and they don’t even try to harm the bad guys. The bad guys bring all their woes onto themselves. And yet it doesn’t feel like a black/white morality play, probably because the villain is humorously exaggerated and the good guy is just an honest working man, not any kind of great hero. He’s not trying to defeat a villain. He’s just trying to help someone who needs it and hoping that this help will change the emperor’s mind and spare his home.

The whole movie is like a warm hug, but with enough snark that it isn’t obnoxiously sappy. Now that I’ve realized it works as a comfort movie, I won’t have to scroll through the streaming service menus to decide what to watch when I’ve had a really stressful week and just want to laugh and feel good. I may need to get this one on DVD in case it ever gets removed from the streaming service or I decide to drop that service.

But thinking about this made me realize the power of story. This silly movie made for kids has a healing effect on me. It lightens my heart and makes me see the world in a more positive light. I can think of so many other stories, whether books, TV shows, or movies, that have a similar effect. They make me feel better about myself, make me want to be better, inspire me to create or dream. How many people have found and pursued their life’s calling because something in a story spoke to them and set them on that path? I’ve actually found that it’s the stories that might be deemed “fluff” that have had the biggest impact on me. It’s never the serious literary fiction that inspires me in a way that seeps into my real life. It’s the fantasy, the chick-lit, the animated Disney movies.

Considering this made me think about my work in a different way. I’ve always written to entertain, not necessarily inspire, but by entertaining the way I do, maybe I am a healer of sorts. I can make someone’s day better, comfort them, make them feel like a part of a community (even if it’s imaginary), inspire them to find whatever “magic” is within them, even if they’re utterly ordinary. Thinking this way about my work has been incredibly motivating. I’ll need to keep it in mind for those days when it’s hard to make myself open that document and start writing. I have to remember that someone out there needs this story, so I must write it.