I shouldn’t have been surprised that Liar, Liar, Head on Fire is an outlier in the Disney Chills canon. Firstly, because the books have continuously shown their readiness to explore new things and approach the same general themes of wishes gone wrong in different ways, but also because of the villain’s power. Liar, Liar, Head on Fire ups the stakes considerably. Fiends on the Other Side had the entire town of New Orleans threatened. This book has the entire Earth at stake, if not more than that.
And that’s partially because this is not a horror book. Looking over the structure and story style, this is a paranormal adventure with a family drama at its core. I can’t speak for how accurate or respectful the representation is here, but it’s a story about a Latin American family living in a tiny Midwestern American town founded by Greek immigrants where everything revolves around the “Spartan Run” and its prize, the Zeus Cup. I’m more reminded of the Percy Jackson series than the previous two Disney Chills books, and yes, that’s partially because of the direct focus on Greek mythology but also because of active monster encounters and a preteen getting superpowers.
But this book is based on Disney’s Hercules, and so we’re working with a specific, um, let’s call it “interpretation” of mythology. I.E., Hades is a bad guy with lots of devil iconography, Zeus is presented in a positive light, and Pain and Panic are still how they were in the movie. And, well, as a fan of Greek myths that’s sometimes irksome, I do still appreciate how well they integrate the movie’s aspects into this narrative.
Like the first book, Part of Your Nightmare, it feels like the original film given a new spin. Our main character Hector, coached by his brother (named Phil), is expected to win the Zeus Cup and save his family’s struggling business with the attention the win will gather. But when another challenger makes it uncertain if he can win, he makes a deal with Hades to gain Hercules-level super strength and speed. That, a few things I’ll mention later, and scenes taking place literally in the Underworld make the Disney tie-in nature justified.
It also helps that, unlike most of the other books, the villain dialog is solid. It’s not just the most iconic lines being parroted in barely justified contexts; Hade’s dialog reads like cut movie dialog, and we get whole conversations with him. Pain and Panic, mostly, get across their bumbling-but-dangerous nature and feel almost more sinister here than they did before—though they suffer a little more from the quoting issue.
But unfortunately, it’s a slog getting to the fun stuff. If you cut the first few chapters in half (or even reduce them all to a few pages), this is easily the best book yet. The core human plot of Liar, Liar, Head on Fire is strong, complex, and has the type of familiar drama that makes for excellent stories—but the opening exposition of the status quo is cataclysmically explained. Page after page of repetitive, handholding, boring summations of the main conflicts. I’ve complained often about these books having too many reiterations of established information, but I’ve never seen it front-loaded this much. Show, don’t tell, isn’t always a viable rule, but this book would’ve benefited from following it a lot more.
The other set of issues within Liar, Liar, Head on Fire is its unwillingness to go all in on its own narrative decisions. Talking about the intricacies of this is difficult without revealing too many spoilers, but I’ll try my best. First off, kid’s books need not have romance—especially with preteen characters—but this book clearly hints at it, and then never fully acknowledges it. Hector meets a girl named Mae, and it’s a direct parallel to Meg and Hercules in the movie. In one way, it seems accurate that Hector might not be willing to admit his feelings to others, especially when his older brother talks about it. Hector may not fully understand his own feelings. But it’s clearly there, the narrative chose to put it there, and the crush is clearly motivating plot points: so why backpedal so much?
The second thing is how this book is almost fully about parental expectations having detrimental effects on kids, but doesn’t do a lot with that idea past a certain point. It’s less under-explored than the previous complaint and probably the most interesting avenue taken by Liar, Liar, Head on Fire, especially for older readers, but I wanted the story to really lean in. Make it a bigger part of conversations. Have the main character talk to his parents about it and have the talk go wrong, like in Be Careful What You Wish Fur. The pieces are all there. Mae and Hector bond over people enforcing interest in the Spartan Race above their own artistic pursuits. Mae’s father treats Mae horribly in the pursuit of success. Hector is constantly letting other people determine what he does. That’s archetypical coming-of-age storytelling. Tying this one contest and the Zeus Cup to the paranormal threats and having everyone’s arcs revolving around one item is, if nothing else, efficient storytelling. But it could’ve been even better.
And finally, of my three chief complaints, this one is the hardest to discuss. This book has a twist. And, in a vacuum, it’s a brutal one. It works well with the source material, fits with character motivations, and is deeply tragic the longer you think about it. But it’s also not nearly set up well enough. A good twist needs clues—and Liar, Liar, Head on Fire doesn’t have those clues. It happens out of nowhere. It’s like the plot flipped a switch.
And, yes, there’s the classic defense of this being a children’s book—and that kids would probably find the twist effective—and normally, I’d grant those exemptions with all the interesting things Liar, Liar, Head on Fire offers already. But these issues feel almost entirely caused by a lack of pages devoted to making them work, and you know exactly where those pages could’ve been found. One more draft. A little more focus. And this would be in the top ten pieces of media I’ve reviewed this year.
I can’t be too disappointed, though. Despite that silly title, Liar, Liar, Head on Fire is almost exactly what I hoped Disney Chills could be. The ending is so bleak I’m amazed it was allowed. Financial pressure acting as a plot specter, nuanced conversations between characters, and cohesive plotting that I’ve praised throughout the other books are all present. They make Liar, Liar, Head on Fire an entertaining narrative about the negative side of competition and how pressure can make people make bad choices. If you’re looking for a book to start reading this series, Liar, Liar, Head on Fire is a solid contender.
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