Mariachi: You are a musician, no? Miguel: I-I-I don't know. Mariachi: Look, if I were you, I'd march right up to my family and say, "Hey! I'm a musician, deal with it!" Miguel: I could never say that. I just can't really talk about any of this at home, so. Miguel: Huh? Mariachi: I asked for a shoe shine, not your life story! Miguel: Oh, yeah, sorry. Like… if he could play music… maybe someday, I-I could too! If it wasn't for my family. Miguel: Sometimes I look at de la Cruz, a-and I get this feeling, like we're connected somehow. And her little girl? She's my great-grandmother, Mamá Coco. every year on Dia de los Muerto The Day of the Dead. Music had torn her family apart, but shoes held them all together. Then she taught her daughter to make shoes. She could have made candies, or fireworks, or sparkly underwear for wrestlers! But no, she chose shoes. She rolled up her sleeves and she learned to make shoes. And the mamá? She didn't have time to yell over that walkaway musician! After banishing all music from her life, she found a way to provide for her daughter. And one day, he left with his guitar and never returned. He and his family would sing and dance, and count their blessings… but he also had a dream. See, a long time ago there was this family - the papá, he was a musician. Dialogue Miguel: Sometimes I think I'm cursed, 'cause of something that happened before I was even born.
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