Frozen's narrative logic could be tighter. Some of its dialogue and lyrical content is out of step with some of the film's mature direction. But none of this is enough to cancel out what's rewarding about the story.
In Frozen, true love is a sacrificial act performed by one sister for another, restoring a friendship that had fallen apart because of tragic circumstances. Elsa's wintry magical power can be used for good if allowed to flourish in a loving community (yes, even a kingdom). Olaf the snowman is not the central protagonist of this film, but he's important all the same. He provides the occasional comic gestures I knew my son would enjoy, but he's also a kind of comic, hopeful symbol throughout the film that Elsa's magical power can be used for good, if only fear is dissipated.
Fitting, then, that true love doesn't melt Elsa's power—only her fear. She's able to keep Olaf around, providing him with an eternal flurry that will preserve the kind of warm laughter that Olaf belly sliding down snowbanks evokes from my son. Anna gets a kiss on the cheek from the admirable Kristoff, but what the film does to that point gives the moment a different, slightly more mature sensibility.
After the kiss, my wife looked over at my young niece, who was bashfully smiling. "I loved that movie!" was her review as we walked out of the theater.
I'm not sure I "loved" Frozen, but I'm surprised to say of my niece's happy response to this latest Disney princess installment: I'm glad.
Frozen features some dark thematic circumstances which cause distress for the sisters, and it also features some "violence" which, depending on the scene, is either cast appropriately as humorous or perilous.