Brave is set in the rugged Scottish Highlands and follows Princess Merida, a girl who would much rather be shooting arrows and climbing cliffs than learning how to be a "proper" lady. Her mother, Queen Elinor, is the embodiment of tradition and duty. When Elinor tries to force Merida into an arranged marriage with one of the local lords' sons, Merida rebels.

In a moment of desperation, Merida seeks out a "cheat code" for her life—a magic spell from a somewhat sketchy witch—to "change her mother." The spell works, but not how Merida expected: Elinor turns into a massive black bear. The rest of the movie is a race against time to reverse the spell before it becomes permanent, forcing both women to actually listen to each other for the first time.

Merida is essentially the original "anti-princess." She doesn't have a love interest, she’s got wild hair that isn't perfectly coiffed, and she’s incredibly skilled at something physical. Kids—especially those in that "tween" transition—resonate with her desire for autonomy.

In 2026, that desire for autonomy usually manifests in wanting a Discord account or trying to convince you that Roblox is actually a masterclass in entrepreneurship rather than just a way to spend $40 on digital hats. Merida’s struggle is the 14th-century version of a kid trying to explain why their "Skibidi Toilet" obsession isn't "brain rot," but a sophisticated form of modern surrealism. (Okay, maybe not that deep, but the feeling of being misunderstood by a parent is universal.)

If your kid is currently calling everything "Ohio" (meaning weird or cringey), they’d probably find Queen Elinor’s initial parenting style "total Ohio." She’s rigid, she’s focused on "how things are done," and she struggles to see Merida as a person with her own agency.

But here’s the No-BS take: Elinor isn’t the villain. She’s a parent trying to keep a kingdom together. The rift in Brave is so effective because both sides have a point. Merida is being selfish and reckless, and Elinor is being stifling.

The movie hits home for intentional parents because it mirrors the digital friction we deal with every day. We set boundaries on TikTok or YouTube because we see the "kingdom" (the family's mental health and safety), while our kids just see us as the person standing between them and their bow and arrow (or their iPad).

Brave is rated PG, but it’s a "Pixar Dark" PG. Here’s the breakdown:

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One thing to watch out for—and talk about—is Merida’s initial decision-making. In her world, she uses a spell. In our world, kids often look for "magic spells" in the form of workarounds.

Whether it’s trying to bypass a Screen Time limit, using a VPN to get around school filters, or looking up "how to get free Robux" (which is almost always a scam), the impulse is the same: I want the result without the hard conversation.

Merida learns the hard way that trying to "hack" your parents' minds usually results in a bigger mess than you started with. It’s a great metaphor for why transparency in the digital world is better than trying to go behind a parent’s back.

Don't just watch the movie and go to bed. Use it. Here are a few ways to spark a real conversation:

Merida wanted to "change her mother." Ask your kid: "If you could change one rule I have, which one would it be and why?" This isn't you promising to change it, but it gives them a safe space to express their desire for autonomy. It’s much better than them seeking out a "witch" (or a sketchy subreddit) to find a way around your rules.

When Elinor becomes a bear, she loses her ability to speak, but she and Merida have to cooperate to survive. Ask: "Do you ever feel like I’m not listening to you? Like we’re speaking different languages?" Sometimes, as parents, we get so caught up in the "Elinor" role of managing everything that we forget to just be with our kids.

Brave handles the idea of tradition with respect but also acknowledges that things have to change. This is a perfect bridge to talking about digital culture. "I know I don't always 'get' why you like MrBeast or why you want to spend three hours on Minecraft, but I want to understand why it’s important to you."

Learn more about navigating the "independence vs. safety" struggle

Brave is a rare gem in the Disney/Pixar catalog because it doesn't offer a villain to defeat. The "villain" is pride and a lack of empathy.

It’s a movie that reminds us that our kids aren't projects to be managed or trophies to be displayed—they are individuals who will eventually "shoot for their own hand." Our job isn't to prevent them from ever making a mistake (like buying a transformation cake from a witch), but to be the kind of parents they can come back to when the spell goes sideways.

It’s not "brain rot." It’s not "Ohio." It’s a genuinely good piece of storytelling that might just make the next time you have to say "no" to a new app a little bit easier to navigate.

If your family enjoyed Brave, check out these resources to keep the momentum going:

Check out our guide on finding the right movies for every age