Everything is Awesome: The Lego Movie and the Value of Play

Outside of  LEGO Creationary, one might wonder why a silly movie about a children’s toy would be the inspiration for an article on this site. While I aim to discuss this at length – I cannot do so without talking about the contents of the movie in detail. So before we begin, I just want to let you know

Now that this has been established, let’s continue.

I walked into the Lego Movie expecting a fun, brightly-colored, reference-filled salute to some of what made my childhood great. I was not disappointed. Even the meta-narrative of the film’s production was an experience I would not call anything less than pure joy. For instance, I chuckled uncontrollably as a I imagined high profile actor Liam Neeson going into a sound booth to record the words “Darn, darn, darn, darny-darn!”

As the story developed – it proved to be far bigger than I originally expected. Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey basically gets acted out with plastic building bricks, as Emmet is torn from his average by-the-instructions life to ultimately fulfill his place in the prophecy and become The Special – even if it was totally made up. It’s a wonderful combination of good storytelling, memorable characters, and fan-service. I cannot recommend it enough. However, there were two parts in particular that made me want to write this article.

This is Benny. Benny loves spaceships – like A LOT – and he is probably my favorite character. What is his contribution to the story? Not much. He says how he much he loves 80s technology, talks about how space is really great, and tries over and over again to make a spaceship. Every time he suggests it, however, the idea gets shut down. The dejected Benny is still involved with everything the others are doing, but all he really ever wanted to do was build a spaceship.

I will not hide the fact that I teared up a little when Benny finally got to build his spaceship. Part of that was because I challenge anyone to hear him yell “SPACESHIP!!!” in loud repetitions like a child given a fistful of pixie sticks without laughing so intensely that eyes will water. But there is another reason. Benny finally got to do what he loves and have it be a part of what his friends were trying to do. Benny finally got to build what he wanted and be part of the team.

I could not separate the joy that Benny was feeling from a similar one that welled up inside me once. Whenever my friends were trying to figure out the evening’s activities, I would say, “I could bring a board game!” I was bouncing off the walls with excitement when they finally said yes. I could show them why I thought these games were so incredible. I could bring them in to share them with me. I don’t always get that joy anymore, and I kind of miss it. I wouldn’t want to live every day excited to the point of screaming, but Benny made me want to make sure I don’t lose it completely either.

There’s another character that has to be brought up here. His name is Lord Business. He’s not only the villain of the picture, but he’s also the main reason for the giant spoiler warning that began this article. It is his origin story and reversal that take this movie from fun to great.

At first, Lord Business felt to me like just another bad guy. An already powerful person seeks magical item to become even more powerful and exercise control over the world. Anyone who reads comic books has seen this character in dozens if not hundreds of different forms. At first, I thought that might be the point. He is the quintessential bad guy poking at what it means to be the bad guy. But there is something hidden within the story, or should I say that there was something just upstairs. Everything changes when Emmet falls through the void and comes face to face with the boy that was telling his story.

When I saw the movie the first time, I wondered why the opening was followed by a title showing “8 1/2 years later.” I brushed it off as a bit of frivolity, but the second viewing brought with it new insights. “Who uses half years in storytelling anyway?” I asked myself. The answer put down the space ship he was flying across the sky, picked me up, and said hi. Children.

Armed with the knowledge that this story ends with a young boy begging his father to come play with him in the lego world he’d created, the story had more weight. The Lego Movie, you see,  is not Emmet’s story. Emmet’s journey is the ground work that sets the adults in the audience up for a hard question. It’s the story of a little boy who just wants to play with his dad.

I have seen awesome and wonderful things built with legos bricks, and I have no right to tell people how to enjoy what they love. But the look on Will Ferrell’s face as he clomps down the basement stairs lets us know that he takes no joy in what he’s doing. The Kragle becomes such a powerful weapon in the little boy’s mind, because his dad has replaced the fun of playing and creating with the legos with a desire to control and regulate this little world. Lord Business was forged in the fires of disappointment and disillusionment trying to make some bastion of power and control.

Gabe (left) and Gio (center) playing during the cocktail hour.

Just over two years ago I married the most beautiful woman in the world. While a lot of that day was just a blur of activity and young love, there are few moments that will cling to my memories forever. One of them involved two little boys playing with their legos in the hallway. While the rest of the world went on around them – they were building, tearing apart, and rebuilding new creations without a care in the world. They are my godsons, Gabriel and Giovanni.

I love these boys like they were my own. They are smart, hilarious, and, while I’m incredibly biased, so talented that rest of us are just waiting for the day they change the world. Since they live several states away, I often get to see them only once or twice a year. On these occasions, I try to get them something for those birthdays I couldn’t attend. Sometimes it is just for those little moments when I want nothing more than to just be their Uncle Mike. More often than not they live in a place where imagination and plastic bits come together.

At the reception, I took about five or ten minutes to stop everything and watch the boys play with the legos I had given them the night before. As they created worlds, I silently prayed that they never lose the love of simple things or the joy of playing together with what they love.

Every once in a while, it is important to ask ourselves if we remember what that feels like. When was the last time we were so overcome by excitement that we couldn’t help but scream? Why did we first love those things that might have become rote routine with time? What was it that made our eyes light up, and made us want to tell everybody we knew about it?

And why don’t we just get it all back?