DreamWorks released The Road to El Dorado in 2000, and it basically tanked. Critics weren't impressed, and the box office was, honestly, a bit of a disaster for a studio trying to compete with the Disney Renaissance. But if you spend any time on social media today, you’d never know it was a "flop." While Tulio and Miguel are the comedic engine of the film, the character Chel is the one who took on a life of her own, transcending the movie itself to become a permanent fixture of internet culture.
She isn't just a side character. For a lot of people who grew up in the early 2000s, Chel was a total shift in how animated women were "supposed" to behave. She wasn't a princess waiting for a rescue. She wasn't a villain. She was a con artist who was better at the game than the protagonists.
The Con Artist Who Outsmarted the Gods
When we first meet Chel, she’s literally running away with stolen gold. That’s such a strong introduction because it immediately levels the playing field between her and the leads. Tulio and Miguel are bumbling their way through a "god" act, but Chel sees through it in approximately three seconds. She doesn't out them, though. She negotiates.
It’s a business transaction.
She wants out of El Dorado, and she’s willing to use her knowledge of the city’s customs to keep them alive in exchange for a ticket to the outside world. This pragmatism is what makes her so refreshing. Most animated films of that era relied on a "love at first sight" trope or a grand moral awakening. Chel? She just wanted a better life and saw two idiots as her best chance to get it.
💡 You might also like: Disney Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas Light Trail: Is the New York Botanical Garden Event Worth Your Money?
The power dynamic is fascinating. While she eventually develops a genuine relationship with Tulio, she never loses her edge. She’s the one teaching them how to behave, how to handle the high priest Tzekel-Kan, and how to navigate a culture she’s clearly grown cynical toward. You get the sense she’s been playing this game long before they showed up on the beach.
Why Chel Broke the "Disney" Mold
In the late 90s and early 2000s, animation was dominated by the Disney formula. You had the heroine who was usually morally upright, somewhat naive, and seeking "more" in a very metaphorical sense. Chel sought "more" in a very literal sense. She wanted wealth, freedom, and a way out of a society that felt stagnant to her.
Her character design, handled by legendary animator James Baxter, was also a massive departure. Baxter, who also worked on Belle and Quasimodo, gave Chel a sense of weight and movement that felt more grounded and, frankly, more mature than what audiences were used to in a PG-rated film. There’s a specific fluidity to how she moves—whether she’s catching a 20-pound gold jug or ducking behind a curtain—that makes her feel physically capable.
There is a lot of talk online about the "DreamWorks Smirk" or the studio’s tendency to be "edgy," but Chel represents the best version of that era. She was written with a level of agency that allowed her to be a partner rather than a prize. When she and Tulio are caught in that scene—the one everyone remembers where they are "interrupted" in the temple—it was a signal that DreamWorks was playing for a slightly older, more sophisticated audience than their competitors.
📖 Related: Diego Klattenhoff Movies and TV Shows: Why He’s the Best Actor You Keep Forgetting You Know
The Cultural Impact and the "Alt" Icon Status
It's impossible to talk about Chel without mentioning her massive presence in modern fan art and cosplay communities. Why has she stayed so relevant?
- Indigenous Representation (with Nuance): While the film takes massive liberties with Mayan and Aztec history (it’s a fantasy-adventure, not a documentary), Chel was a rare instance of a high-profile Indigenous female lead in a major Western animated film.
- The "Girlboss" Precursor: Before the term was run into the ground, Chel embodied the idea of a woman taking charge of her own destiny through sheer wit.
- The Design Legacy: Her aesthetic has influenced a generation of character designers who wanted to move away from the "waif" look that dominated the 90s.
Interestingly, Jeffrey Katzenberg, the co-founder of DreamWorks, originally wanted the film to be more like The Man Who Would Be King. As the project shifted toward a broader comedy, Chel's role was refined to be the "brains" of the operation. If you watch the movie closely, Tulio and Miguel would have been sacrificed within the first thirty minutes if Chel hadn't stepped in to manage the optics of their "divinity."
What We Get Wrong About Her Role
The biggest misconception is that Chel is just a "femme fatale." That’s a lazy reading. A femme fatale uses her charms to lead a man to his ruin. Chel uses her partnership with Tulio to lead them both to safety. She’s a survivor.
She also provides the emotional grounding the movie needs. While Miguel is falling in love with the idea of the city, and Tulio is falling in love with the gold, Chel is the only one looking at the reality of the situation. She knows Tzekel-Kan is a psychopath. She knows the Chief is being played. She’s the only one with a realistic exit strategy.
👉 See also: Did Mac Miller Like Donald Trump? What Really Happened Between the Rapper and the President
Actionable Takeaways for Modern Creators
If you're a writer or a character designer looking at Chel as a blueprint, there are a few specific things she does right that you can steal for your own work.
- Give your "side" characters their own goals. Chel isn't there to help the boys because she likes them; she helps them because it aligns with her goal of leaving. This makes every interaction a negotiation, which is inherently more interesting than blind loyalty.
- Competence is charismatic. We like Chel because she's good at what she does. She's a better liar than Miguel and a better strategist than Tulio.
- Physicality matters. Don't just design a character; think about how they move. Chel’s movements are deliberate and expressive, which tells us more about her personality than her dialogue ever could.
- Subvert the "Prize" trope. By the end of the film, she isn't "won" by anyone. She joins the team as a third member. The ending of the movie features the three of them riding off into the sunset together, a trio of outcasts looking for the next adventure.
The legacy of Chel is a reminder that audiences gravitate toward characters with agency. She wasn't a princess, and she didn't need a song to explain her "I want" moment. She just grabbed the gold and started running. Even 25 years later, that energy is exactly why she remains the breakout star of The Road to El Dorado.
To truly understand her impact, re-watch the scene where she first enters the temple. Pay attention to how she manages the room without saying a word. That’s masterclass character work. Next time you're drafting a supporting lead, ask yourself: what is their "exit strategy"? If they don't have one, they might just be a plot device. Chel was never a plot device; she was the one holding the map.