Is it fair to call Willow (1988) a St. Patrick’s Day film? There’s nothing particularly Irish about it at first glance. However . . . The brownies are small and puckish, like leprechauns. Fairies flit about. The baby who plays Elora Danan wears a red wig. (Heh.) Something about the tone of the movie feels appropriate for the holiday. Well, that’s what I proclaim, and let us proceed accordingly.
Who is our eponymous hero, the young and earnest Willow?
He’s a family man, a farmer, with a dream to become a wizard’s apprentice. His children and his wife rescue a mysterious baby from the river. Although he’s worried, he accepts the change in his fate Elora brings. He’ll need to make a trip to protect her, leaving his family behind.
In the village, Willow doesn’t envy his fellows. He wants to be picked to study with the wizard, but he doesn’t begrudge the other contestants. He’s not a Heart Type.
He’s also not a Body Type. He will never be one of his village’s warriors. He goes on the mission to return Elora because of responsibility and compassion, not for any pursuit of adventure or activity.
He’s a Six. That commitment to right and wrong drives him forward. It’s how he can hector Madmartigan, a large foreigner in a cage, without thinking of his own safety. He disrupts the evil plans of Bavmorda, despite his fear, because he loves Elora. He strives to transmorph Fin Raziel not because he will learn magic from her, but because she will help the baby.
Willow is a man who does his duty, quietly tilling the land, while dreaming of a different career (which is likely to never materialize). Sixes hold a longing that breaks my heart.
Maybe that’s the reason it feels so Irish to me.