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| Scene from How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World |
Throughout the course of the How to Train Your Dragon's final chapter, there are crossroads for both Hiccup and his dragon Toothless. It's a set-up that is initially built as comedic but slowly unveils something deeper. Every time that Toothless dives to save Hiccup from impending doom, there's an understanding of love and dependency on each other. However, there's also a reality that the thing pulling them apart is Toothless' desire for a love only a Light Fury can give him. After a life of feeling alone, he's finally found someone like him. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her, but she doesn't like Toothless. Along with a story about an inhumane dragon trapper, The Hidden World ends the trilogy on a triumphant high, capturing a deeper emotion in life's tough decisions as it continues to push boundaries with its breathtaking cinematography and a score by John Powell that will shed more than a few tears. For a series about something as silly as dragons, it has always known how to deliver something deeper and more permanent.
While the previous two entries owe some credit to being viewed from the human's viewpoint, what makes The Hidden World such a fulfilling finale is its shift towards the natural. Along with Hiccup's journey to become a leader, it's a story of Toothless becoming a lone dragon, capable of finding his place among his community. For the entire series, he has been an outsider as a Night Fury. He's one of a kind, and there's an inherent loneliness in knowing that there's nobody out there like him. While there's a literal Hidden World presented through Viking folklore, there's also a world inside Toothless that he doesn't know about. It's his compassion for other dragons, whom he has only ever seemed to be antagonistic with. He loves Hiccup, but without any personal fulfillment, what is the point of feeling like more than an outsider?
The same could be said about newcomer Light Fury, who is a female version of Toothless. In one of the series' smartest moves, the story shifts into a comic tale of Toothless trying to become a dragon. He knows how to fly. He's spent his life around dragons, but for the first time in his life he must perform the duties of an aging dragon, where he falls in love and starts a life of his own. It comes with a delightful Cyrano de Bergerac scene where he courts her with absurd dance routines. It's entirely free of dialogue and is driven more by the dragon characters than Hiccup's bad advice from a distant hiding place. As a form of comedy, it's delightful in all of the ways that Toothless has come to embody for the franchise. However, it's also more emotionally resonant to the poor dragon, trying too hard to impress the Light Fury and failing miserably. It's in pulling through his goofy exterior that he finds what connects them both. He finds compassion by finally letting down his guard.
The same could be said for Hiccup's story, where he battles becoming a leader as he leads the tribe away from their homeland of Berk in favor of a place where they can't overpopulate. It's a struggle that Hiccup has faced for the entire run of the series as he's tried to step out of his father's shadow. He also has trouble appealing to his girlfriend Astrid, who desperately wants him to not become consumed by insular grief. Not only is there fear that he'll lose his tribe to oncoming danger, but he's at risk of losing the dragon that he's loved for years. The series has thankfully evolved over the years with Hiccup, allowing his boyish face to slowly mature into something more muzzled as an early 20-something leader discovering the drudgery of life. He's lost his father, and the fear of losing more is consuming him. He loves Toothless too much to let him go, nor is he comfortable enough to be emotionally honest with Astrid.
The film's triumphant moments come when the Hidden World feels like more than a crazy idea in a fantasy film. In an extended scene, the audience sees Toothless fly for the first time since befriending Hiccup by himself. He's with the Light Fury, who shows him a wonderful world full of new opportunities. He's limited in the human world and must finally accept the role he's meant to have. With the Night Fury, he's happy. With Powell's score, the drifting through clouds is once again a majestic image that fills the audience with awe. There's no words, just actions of two dragons finding a deeper compassion. It's something that's understood on a deeper level, something that makes the audience understand why this crossroads is so difficult. Toothless, for the first time, is capable of feeling like he belongs somewhere that wants him and isn't constantly bombarded by attacks of hatred.
It's the unfortunate truth that the entire trilogy has shared. Where the first film explored Hiccup's struggle to empathize with dragons, the subsequent entries have been his quest to get others to care just as much as he does. While it may read as cynical, what the film teaches is what happens when humanity is too cruel, when there's no way to protect the natural world from hatred by hiding it from the world. It forces the viewer to ask questions about why humanity is so cruel in the first place. It becomes terrible to watch Toothless enter moments of peril. In the film's final 30 minutes, it becomes an incredible whirlwind of catharsis as Toothless becomes a leader and the set piece becomes a triumphant finale. Once again, action is driving the story more than dialogue, and once again the crossroads enter the picture. This time, they put the audience on the edge of their seats, asking them to make tough decisions, as if getting them ready for the difficult ending.
It's tough to come to those many crossroads in large part because of how well this universe is built. The animation is once again breathtaking and to watch dragons floating among the clouds is a reminder of why theatrical experiences matter. The whoosh of the sound coming over audiences immerses them in this wonderful world, making the idea of riding Toothless seem magnificent. Who would ever want to let it go? It's easy to want to keep gliding forever, but eventually things must move on. Hiccup must become a leader, and Toothless must decide between the human world that has given him hospitality and the love of a Night Fury who understands him and makes him a better dragon. It's why those moments of discovery even within the silence are so powerful. They give a sense of what Toothless has been missing and for the first time tearing them away from Hiccup's context. It wouldn't work with Hiccup's narration, or even him comically tagging along. Toothless gives the series' finale an empathy that is needed, and in the process solidifies himself as more than a goofy sidekick.
By the end of the film, there's a reality that director Dean Deblois has created one of the rare perfect animated trilogies. He doesn't falter from a singular vision and instead expanded the world with each entry, managing to make each look more beautiful than the last. By experimenting with perspective, he has managed to make something unique in Toothless' journey to his destiny. It's a sad story, but not one that is used irrationally. What is there is a story of friendship and the crossroads of tough decisions. Does Toothless let Hiccup fall, or does he save him yet again? By allowing Hiccup to fall he's allowed to grow as a leader. By allowing Toothless to fly by himself, he's allowed to understand what it means to be a dragon. While the ending is emotional, it's one rooted in a brilliant piece of Viking folklore that makes it all the more beautiful. It's hard to say goodbye, but at least it's a fond farewell.
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