Showing posts with label animation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label animation. Show all posts
Thursday, October 05, 2017
The LEGO Ninjago Movie
THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE (Charlie Bean, Paul Fisher, and Bob Logan, 2017)
Although estranged from his father, the fearsome Garmadon (Justin Theroux), teenager Lloyd (Dave Franco) still gets blamed for the terror his dad inflicts on the city of Ninjago. As leader of the Secret Ninja Force, Lloyd and five of his friends fight Garmadon in THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE. After many failed attempts, Garmadon finally defeats the Secret Ninja Force, leading Lloyd to deploy The Ultimate Weapon. What he unleashes causes even more chaos in the city, so Lloyd and his team must combine forces with Garmadon to go on a journey to find The Ultimate Ultimate Weapon and save Ninjago.
Like the two other LEGO films, THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE bursts with visual ingenuity and comedic irreverence. It moves briskly through an archetypal story that is vigorously seasoned with one-liners. The shots are crammed with details and jokes waiting to be discovered when stepping through the frames on a Blu-ray or digital file. There’s plenty to be impressed by, yet the sameness of this with the other films, in what I suppose is becoming the LEGO genre, render it as a solid effort lacking novelty.
THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE is neither the inventive surprise that characterized THE LEGO MOVIE nor the exhaustively ambitious effort that marked THE LEGO BATMAN MOVIE. The style is well established, and even if the source property, a toy line and TV show, is less familiar to the masses, the premise borrows heavily from the hero’s journey that Joseph Campbell identified as common to many myths. These aren’t necessarily negative factors. In fact the predictability may enhance its appeal as comfort viewing, especially for kids and parents eager to distract them. Newness in and of itself doesn’t makes something better, but the prefabricated quirkiness of THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE dazzles less because it plays as though it’s been assembled from a tried-and-true set of instructions.
Freshness criticisms aside, it’s a consistently funny movie, which it achieves in part through the volume of jokes. THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE’s subtext about children coming to understand that fathers and mothers were and are people with lives extending beyond parenthood may be more subtle and complex for younger viewers to grasp, but it’s nice to find some thematic intricacy among the stylistic uniformity.
Grade: B-
Friday, April 21, 2017
The Little Prince
THE LITTLE PRINCE (Mark Osborne, 2015)
The Little Girl (Mackenzie Foy) in THE LITTLE PRINCE is being groomed by her Mother (Rachel McAdams) to be a striver in a dog-eat-dog world. She bombs the entrance interview to get into the prestigious Werth Academie, but a move into the right house within its district and a meticulous and demanding summer schedule of preparatory work are anticipated to launch her on the path to success. While other kids might balk at a summer of intense studying while a parent is away at work, the Little Girl naturally takes to it.
Her focus is tested when she meets the old man who lives next door. The Aviator (Jeff Bridges) gets her attention to wander with the creaky, old plane he’s trying to repair and stories of his desert encounter years ago with the Little Prince (Riley Osborne), a boy who lives on an asteroid. The Little Girl and the Aviator’s friendship lead her to searching for the Little Prince when the old man grows ill and becomes unable to look for him.
THE LITTLE PRINCE adapts Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic novella of the same name and puts the book within a contemporary story, thus using it as a leaping off point for expansion. The framing device has practical reasons because without it there likely isn’t enough source material to mold into a feature film. There’s creative justification too, as the things de Saint-Exupéry bemoaned in 1943 have surely increased in today’s world. If he was worried about child-like wonder being stamped out on the path to adulthood, he probably would not be heartened by the emphasis on practicality in education and the culture today.
This reworking of THE LITTLE PRINCE complements the original’s concerns about how the process of growing up can result in the loss of curiosity and lack of appreciation for intangible pleasures with values hard to quantify in a market-driven society. Parental insecurities about their child’s future and the desire to optimize time to increase marketability and competitiveness are rightfully significant. Still, maligning play and contemplation, or treating them as goods only if they have discretely applicable ends, undermines development of the whole child.
THE LITTLE PRINCE employs two styles: three-dimensional computer animation for the contemporary portions and stop-motion watercolors for memories of the Little Prince. Scenes rendered in the newer method impress with their sleekness while the older style contains warmth and personality, qualities that often leak out when seeking to conform to look like every other CGI-animated film now. The standardized perfection of the contemporary scenes are not artless, but to a degree they represent what the film wishes to resist, namely efficiency prized over wonder. There can be beauty in both. In using different styles, THE LITTLE PRINCE integrate the practical and the dreamy as a guide to remembering how they feed one another.
Grade: B
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Sing
SING (Christophe Lourdelet and Garth Jennings, 2016)
Theater-owning koala Buster Moon (Matthew McConaughey) is on the verge of losing his prized performance space. Buster puts on a singing competition as a last-ditch effort to save the theater in SING, but a mistake on the flyers promises $100,000 for the winner than the intended thousand bucks.
The purse attracts all sorts of wannabe stars to the auditions. Among those making the final cut are Rosita (Reese Witherspoon), a pig who is unfulfilled as a mother and housewife; Johnny (Taron Egerton), a gorilla who’d rather be singing than helping with his mobster clan; heartbroken rocker porcupine Ash (Scarlett Johansson); and Mike (Seth MacFarlane), a crooning mouse with gambling debts. Shy elephant Meena (Tori Kelly) really wants to participate, but her stage fright holds her back.
SING is an animated comedy for two groups: those who love hearing five- or ten-second snippets of popular songs in celebrity karaoke and those who are really invested in AMERICAN IDOL’s audition episodes and storylines. It’s not bad per se so much as it is perfunctory. SING has a good tempo and enough familiar songs--or their hooks--to seem pleasantly mediocre. As it can be cut up almost infinitely into bite-size portions to promote it, a cynical view might lead one to see its value as a product to help pad a studio’s bottom line, not as anything with aspirations of being more than content. All it needs to do is look sufficiently cute amid the clutter of advertising to take the kids to it.
Some of the voice casting choices are curious, especially McConaughey as a koala. Wouldn’t Chris Hemsworth have provided the star power and a more geographically sensible pick? But then this feels like something created and assembled by a computer algorithm than by artistically motivated people. SING is the simulation of what blockbuster children’s entertainment is supposed to look and sound like.
SING's best joke by far is that brief moment when a sheep bleats the first word of the chorus from Seal’s "Kiss from a Rose", although the animal chosen to perform seems like a missed opportunity for the type of inside joke for adults that these movies love to wink with. The hammy, German-accented pig Gunter (Nick Kroll) is sporadically amusing. Parents who want to get out of the house or distract the kids would be better served going to MOANA again than patronizing SING.
Grade: C
Thursday, December 01, 2016
Moana
MOANA (Ron Clements, Don Hall, John Musker, and Chris Williams, 2016)
A tribe on an island in the Pacific has everything it needs in MOANA and thus lacks the impulse to explore what is beyond their home. For the teenage Moana (Auli’i Cravalho), this conservatism can be frustrating, as she has an adventurous soul. When the coconut harvests yield spoiled crops and fish vanish from the waters inside the reef, Moana’s suggestions to go outside their comfort zone are overruled by her father, Chief Tui (Temuera Morrison).
Moana’s grandmother Tala (Rachel House), something of a free spirit herself, encourages Moana to follow her instincts. She sets her on a course to find the Polynesian demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson) and help him return the heart of Te Fiti, an island goddess’ stone he stole. His theft, which he did to please humans, unleashed the darkness upon the world that is now causing the problems at home. With her own wits and the help of the ocean--her stupid pet rooster Heihei provides no assistance--Moana goes on her journey to save everything and everyone she loves.
MOANA fits safely within the Walt Disney animated musical tradition but makes enough variations on their princess movies to keep it from feeling stagnant. There’s no love interest around to sidetrack her from the matter at hand, and her animal sidekick is of negligible use. Johnson’s voice work as Maui and the gags with a mini version of the character tattooed on the buff demigod deliver much of MOANA’s humor. Despite his status in the universe, he’s often brought down to size by the film’s plucky heroine.
The South Pacific setting allows the animators to impress with the tropical landscapes, and as much of the film taking place on the ocean, they also get to showcase the latest and greatest in replicating water with computers. The songs by Opetaia Foa’i, Mark Mancina, and Broadway superstar of the moment Lin-Manuel Miranda provide an injection of bright fun. Mancina and Miranda’s “Shiny”, performed by FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS’ Jemaine Clement as a treasure-hoarding crab, is a highlight, especially with the funny and nightmarish visual accompaniment.
While the animation dazzles, MOANA can feel a little too familiar to stand out from its numerous competitors. In this regard the slender tale may be hurt somewhat by its economy of characters. Other than the two primaries, the ocean itself probably has the most impactful presence.
Grade: B-
Labels:
2016,
animation,
Auli’i Cravalho,
Chris Williams,
comedy,
Disney,
Don Hall,
Dwayne Johnson,
Jemaine Clement,
John Musker,
Moana,
musical,
Rachel House,
Ron Clements,
Temuera Morrison
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Trolls
TROLLS (Mike Mitchell and Walt Dohrn, 2016)
In TROLLS the tiny title characters are joyful creatures whose days are filled with singing, dancing, and hugging. Darkness enters their celebratory existences when the much larger, monstrous Bergen find the trolls and learn that eating them is the one way they can experience happiness. The Bergen set aside one day each year for eating trolls, but when the time comes for Prince Gristle (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) to taste his first troll, the scrappy little optimists escape and go undetected for twenty years.
Their safety comes to an end when Princess Poppy (Anna Kendrick), the happiest and most positive of all the trolls, puts on a massive rave noticeable from great distances. Chef (Christine Baranski), the Bergen who was banished from town when the trolls got away, sees the party. Excited at the chance to get back in the good graces of the Bergen, she tracks down the trolls and captures some. Poppy is determined to go to Bergen Town to save her friends and eventually is joined by Branch (Justin Timberlake), a pessimistic, survivalist troll who always suspected this horrible day would come.
TROLLS is rendered in eye-searing colors and features its share of trippy visuals, making the experience of watching it akin to mainlining Junior Senior’s impossibly peppy “Move Your Feet”, which Poppy sings as part of a buoyant pop medley. These small creatures with bright, upswept hair make no apologies for being cheerful, enthusiastic, and loving because they’ve identified that happiness comes from within rather than being consumed. There’s probably a mild contradiction in that message, as the film is based on toys after all. Nevertheless, TROLLS is more committed to being insistently upbeat and gloriously weird than shamelessly pushing product.
TROLLS’ unfiltered strangeness is one of its most appealing qualities. The humor holds appeal for adults because it’s so off-the-wall yet isn’t pitched at them. It simply indulges silliness to the nth degree. A sequence in which a cloud with skinny legs requests a high five from Branch in exchange for some critical information makes for a hilarious routine in which the gray troll is cajoled to make the smallest gesture of happiness. Kendrick’s perky voicing of Poppy and Timberlake’s glum Branch make a funny contrast.
The story in TROLLS is sufficient, although the film is best when it’s riffing and letting its freak flag fly. Pop music is cleverly incorporated and brings some additional energy to this sugar rush of a film.
Grade: B-
Friday, September 23, 2016
Kubo and the Two Strings
KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS (Travis Knight, 2016)
Childhood for the one-eyed boy named Kubo (Art Parkinson) is magical and mystifying in the stop-motion animated KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS. He brings origami to life as he tells enchanting stories to the villagers near the cave where he and his mother are hiding out. Kubo can shred his three-stringed musical instrument, a samisen, like MAD MAX: FURY ROAD’s Doof Warrior, although no fire shoots out of the neck. While these are marvelous skills for a kid wield, there is much for him to be concerned about. His mother is ill, and and his grandfather, the Moon King (Ralph Fiennes), has killed Kubo’s samurai father and is responsible for the eyepatch the boy must wear. Kubo’s mother insists that he always carry a monkey totem and be home before sundown lest her two sisters (Rooney Mara) and the Moon King find them and complete the task they did not finish.
One night Kubo stays out past his curfew with the predicted tragic results. The Sisters torch the village and try to harm Kubo, but his mother uses her magic to save him and send him on quest. To defend himself from the Moon King Kubo must search ancient Japan for an unbreakable sword, impenetrable armor, and invulnerable helmet. Helping him on his journey are Monkey (Charlize Theron), which is the enlarged totem brought to life, and the samurai Beetle (Matthew McConaughey), a forgetful, wise-cracking insect.
KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS comes from the animation studio Laika, which, with the films CORALINE, PARANORMAN, and THE BOXTROLLS, has developed a reputation for delivering quality children’s fare that is unafraid of handling material that can be visually and thematically darker. The deep oranges and dark blues dominate the palette for a story steeped in legend, like something witnessed through the flickering flames deep in the belly of a cave. The stop-motion animation provides a tactile sense of wonder at the imaginations tapped to bring this fantastical and early historical world to life in the style of folded paper.
KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS puts two kinds of immortality in opposition. The Moon King offers Kubo the chance to live forever with him among the stars, although the price to be paid is his one good eye. Alternatively, the boy can find strength and inspiration in the memories of his deceased parents to resist the Moon King and, in turn, survive through generations because of the bravery he shows. This may sound like rather heavy subject matter--and it is, implicitly--but director Travis Knight and screenwriters Marc Haimes and Chris Butler treat this as a grand challenge to be met with the spiritual guidance of his mother and father than an oppression heaped upon a protagonist unsuited to deal with it.
The film is not left wanting for humor, however. Theron’s voicework reveals a delicacy in the figure entrusted to assist Kubo, but she also brings a sarcastic edge to Monkey, especially as she clashes with Beetle. At face value McConaughey seems like a curious casting decision, as he makes no effort to alter his Texas drawl, but the warmth and orneriness in his voice serves the act-before-thinking character well. The love-hate dynamic between Monkey and Beetle produces some amusing sparring. Likewise, Kubo’s journey encompasses the spectrum of emotion, concluding with a beautiful testament to the ties that bind. The importance of family is hardly a new theme for children’s entertainment, but the gentleness and unsentimentalized handling of it in KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS allows the idea to be seen anew.
Grade: B+
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Sausage Party
SAUSAGE PARTY (Greg Tiernan and Conrad Vernon, 2016)
With computer-animated foodstuffs discussing the involvement of a divine force in their lives, SAUSAGE PARTY bears some similarity to VEGGIETALES, although the relentlessly vulgar comedy with an atheistic perspective makes abundantly clear where it parts ways with the Christian lessons for kids. There’s no denying the boldness of SAUSAGE PARTY in using the forms of animation and raunchy comedy to explore something more serious than audiences might expect. Imagine TOY STORY, in which inanimate objects receive a revelation about the whims of those they are devoted to, and cross it with the muddled theology and scatological comedy of Kevin Smith’s DOGMA for some approximation of what has been cooked up.
The items on grocery store shelves patiently await the day when they will be chosen by the gods, otherwise known as the shoppers. WIth the 4th of July nearing, chances are greater for many that their time to discover the life that awaits beyond what they can observe is imminent. Among the faithful waiting their turn is Frank (Seth Rogen), a sausage who hopes to be selected at the same time as his hot dog bun girlfriend Brenda (Kristen Wiig), who is in a package next to his on an endcap display.
Indeed, fortune smiles upon them when a woman puts them both in her cart, but a returned jar of of Honey Mustard (Danny McBride) warns that the paradise they’ve been promised does not exist outside Shopwell’s doors. An accident separates Frank, Brenda, Sammy the bagel (Edward Norton), and a contentious lavash named Kareem (David Krumholtz) from the items that leave the store. Also left behind in the scrum is Douche (Nick Kroll), who is damaged and discarded. He holds Frank accountable for his fate and vows revenge. Meanwhile, Frank learns that Honey Mustard was right about the horrible truth outside the grocery and wants to share the news with the others.
SAUSAGE PARTY is every bit as self-satisfied and strident as any evangelical entertainment meant to witness to the masses. Those looking for well-reasoned arguments critical of and against religious beliefs best look elsewhere from the gleeful bomb-throwing here. The screenplay by Rogen, Evan Goldberg, Kyle Hunter, and Ariel Shaffir possesses the intellectual swagger of a college freshman with a smidgen of exposure to the work of Friedrich Nietzsche. The rebellious pushback manifests as reductive posturing masquerading as cogent thought. Such a shrill response to faith kind of makes the film as humorless as those the makers might accuse their opposition of being.
SAUSAGE PARTY also treads the line between ironic stereotyping and demeaning characterizations based on ethnicity, sexuality, and creed. For comedians pushing boundaries to mock unenlightened thinking, this is notoriously tricky terrain. In execution SAUSAGE PARTY’s jokes play closer to regressive reinforcement than comedic immolation of stereotypes. The filmmakers pay a lot of attention to the planks in the eyes of those with whom they disagree but fail to notice those in their own views.
Grade: C-
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
The Angry Birds Movie
THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE (Clay Kaytis and Fergal Reilly, 2016)
The knee-jerk reaction is to assume bad, frivolous, or less-than-inspired source material automatically means a film adaptation is folly, yet good ideas for movies come from unexpected places all the time. Plenty of popular but critically-derided books have been turned into good films, and several literary classics have been converted to the screen with dismal results. Still, it’s easy to scoff at the notion of movies based on theme park rides, board games, newspaper comic strips, or whatever weird source comes to mind. Positive examples may be rarer, like the first PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN film and Robert Altman’s POPEYE versus THE HAUNTED MANSION, BATTLESHIP, and MARMADUKE, but the problem isn’t with where they originated but how they were realized. Which brings us to THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE, a computer-animated comedy adapted from the mobile game.
Life is happy and carefree for most of the flightless avian residents of Bird Island, but for Red (Jason Sudeikis) pretty much everything is an affront. Red nurtures a grudge about growing up as an orphan and continuing to be teased about his prominent eyebrows. With his home relocated outside the village, Red’s sense of disconnection from his chirpy neighbors increases. Red is quick to anger, and an outburst in court gets him sentenced to anger management counseling where he meets the speedy, prevaricating Chuck (Josh Gad), the literally explosive Bomb (Danny McBride), and silent, imposing Terence (Sean Penn).
The birds are unaware of anyone beyond their perch in the ocean until one day when a ship arrives with green pigs. The ship’s captain Leonard (Bill Hader) comes bearing gifts, and the birds warmly accept the pigs. Red, though, is suspicious of the visitors’ intentions. He persuades Chuck and Bomb to join him in a search for their mythical protector Mighty Eagle (Peter Dinklage) in the event that they need to drive off the pigs.
THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE isn’t bad so much as it is unfailingly ordinary. This rote execution of the modern big-studio animation formula assembles a constellation of celebrities and comedians to voice the characters, sprinkles in some mildly inappropriate jokes kids won’t get but acknowledge the adults accompanying them, and winds up with a dance scene set to a pop song. No one was expecting THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE to be revolutionary, nor need it be, but the lack of a creative spark is notable. A film as brand extension doesn’t have to be inherently risk-averse. In many respects THE LEGO MOVIE is also a feature-length commercial for toys and games, yet its inventiveness overshadows the unit sales-driving force behind its existence.
A fantasy sequence with Leonard and an egg set to The Carpenters’ “Close to You” is moderately amusing, although the tried-and-true song cue is indicative of the film’s lack of imagination with its pop culture references. (It seems like a missed opportunity that Public Image Ltd.’s “Rise”, with the repeated lyric “Anger is an energy”, is not employed in the film.) Hader brings some smarmy humor to the diabolical pig king. The funniest thing might be Penn’s casting as a surly, fearsome bird, but it’s a meta in-joke that goes virtually unrecognized except for spotting his name in the credits. In general THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE doesn’t strive to be anything more than a mindless time diversion not unlike a game played on a phone while waiting in line. Thirty years ago this might have been a feature film, but its natural form is as a half-hour show playing at 3:30 in the afternoon on a broadcast TV station.
As the audience for THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE is primarily children, there is an implicit expectation that a message, however half-hearted, must be conveyed, even in something that’s the cinematic equivalent of empty calories. Setting aside the possibility of a political reading regarding the warranted fear of outsiders, the moral of the story is curious. THE ANGRY BIRDS MOVIE suggests that it is right to feel aggrieved because in due time others will come around to appreciate that perspective. Something tells me that won’t be the takeaway of FINDING DORY.
Grade: C-
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
Anomalisa
ANOMALISA (Charlie Kaufman and Duke Johnson, 2015)
To Michael Stone (David Thewlis) everyone looks virtually the same, save for different hairstyles and clothes. More maddeningly, they all sound the same. In the stop-motion animated drama ANOMALISA Michael flies from Los Angeles to Cincinnati to give a presentation about customer service. After making an obligatory call home to his wife and son, Michael arranges to meet an old flame for drinks. She still resents how he left her without a satisfactory answer about their relationship’s end eleven years ago, and Michael doesn’t handle their reunion very well either.
Depressed and lonely he returns to his hotel room when he hears Lisa (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and her friend in the hallway. They’re in town from Akron to attend Michael’s seminar and are thrilled that he shows interest in them when he knocks on their door. MIchael is really only fascinated with Lisa, who sounds unlike everyone else (Tom Noonan). When he’s able to get her alone and listen to her speak and sing, it’s as though all of his problems have vanished.
The puppets used in ANOMALISA are startlingly life-like yet somehow off in a manner that unsettles. Seams that permit animators to change face plates have not been digitally erased, which emphasize the sentient android quality to the characters. The uniformity of all but Michael and Lisa manifests the psychological horror in the protagonist’s predicament and his potential salvation in finding an anomaly. Something this dour and emotionally naked is unusual for an animated feature, yet in this medium the eerie unreality to the detailed mundanity help to keep it from becoming too uncomfortable to watch versus if it were physically performed by actors. Having originally been staged for the ears rather than the eyes, animation proves to be an inspired way to adapt Charlie Kaufman’s theatrical work with a greater visual element.
The inability to escape oneself or find total relief in someone else runs through Kaufman’s work as a screenwriter, as in BEING JOHN MALKOVICH and ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, and writer-director of SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK. With ANOMALISA co-director Duke Johnson, Kaufman creates a world in which ordinariness and familiarity suffocate yet are the natural state of things. Michael is an insufferable person, at times more than the film can withstand, yet his plight in pursuit of novelty that eventually fades feels tragic especially with the bombardment of the new in this technological age. There is no shortage of new products to buy or strangers to meet, but what is one left with after the fleeting thrill of the unknown disappears?
ANOMALISA may be more disquieting than anything else in Kaufman’s neurotic body of work, which is why the humor about common aggravations provides brief but welcome breaks from the heaviness. Michael’s difficulties with getting a hotel shower’s water temperature right and failures with his room’s key card are amusing nuisances that can be shared with him even if his mental breakdown can’t. The unimaginative recommendations of what to do in a city, like Cincinnatians suggesting going to the zoo and trying the local chili, may be so funny because they reflect the same responses one could get from anyone in a place. Noonan’s voice work amuses with the deadpan nuance he employs in speaking for the masses. For as critical as ANOMALISA may seem of the indistinct crowd, the anger and disgust directed at them are just deflected feelings of those who own them. For the malcontents and misanthropes, the problem is really in here than out there.
Grade: B+
Thursday, December 03, 2015
The Good Dinosaur
THE GOOD DINOSAUR (Peter Sohn, 2015)
THE GOOD DINOSAUR considers what might have happened if the extinction event that wiped out the dinosaurs never occurred. In the animated film’s imagined millions of years after the devastating meteor misses Earth, talking dinosaurs have developed agricultural practices while non-verbal humans in roaming packs are among the pesky critters that try to swipe their stockpiled food. Arlo (Raymond Ochoa), an undersized apatosaurus among his two siblings, is tasked with catching and eliminating the pest. The feral boy is caught but gets away, leading Arlo’s father (Jeffrey Wright) to take the youngster in search of the thief and finish the job.
A flash flood sweeps away Poppa, so a grieving Arlo blames the boy for his father’s death. When he turns up again, Arlo shows no restraint in chasing after him, but he gets knocked out while in pursuit and awakens far from home. The boy proves to be Arlo’s means for surviving, as he provides him with food and protection. He shows dog-like loyalty to the dinosaur, thus leading to Arlo naming him Spot (Jack Bright). He’ll need the help as they encounter fierce creatures on the long journey home.
For better or worse, a new Pixar film bears the weight of expectations of being nothing less than great. With its visual elements THE GOOD DINOSAUR lives up to the high standards set by its predecessors. The natural scenery’s photorealistic rendering captures the beauty of land, vegetation, and geological formations untouched by civilization. It’s astonishing to compare how far computer animation has come since TOY STORY was released in 1995. Director Peter Sohn uses some lovely visual storytelling too, especially in the scene with Arlo and Spot finding a common language through sticks and sand to share their tragic family backgrounds.
As great as THE GOOD DINOSAUR is to look at, the story is a jumble of scenes in which a fearful dinosaur child matures through a daunting quest home. Arlo wanders through this archetypal western tale without clear markers of progress or picking up notable supporting characters. The narrative just sort of ends without any awareness of how close he’s getting to the homestead. The biggest threat on the journey come in the form of a trio of pterodactyls who aren’t as good-hearted as they initially seem. These nasty beasts introduce a fair amount of terror to their scenes but are in the film for so little time that their impact is diminished.
THE GOOD DINOSAUR doesn’t shy away from the hostile nature of the world and those encountered in it, which may make the film scarier for younger viewers than might be anticipated. Death and imminent harm hang over the film, yet the greater takeaways is the bond formed between a dinosaur and his pet boy as they face conflict. THE GOOD DINOSAUR does lighten the gravity of the situation with some loopy humor, such as Arlo and Spot’s awkwardness at bathroom time and their hallucinogenic visions after eating fruit. It’s unlikely to be anyone’s favorite Pixar film, but the majesty of its visuals and scattered idiosyncrasies are rewarding.
Grade: B-
Thursday, November 19, 2015
The Peanuts Movie
THE PEANUTS MOVIE (Steve Martino, 2015)
THE PEANUTS MOVIE takes Charlie Brown and friends from the comics pages and traditional 2D animation to the 3D computer-animated realm, albeit with a look that is not drastically different with what is familiar from Charles Schulz’s work in strip, TV, and film form. The animation has sort of a plush toy quality about it rather than the sleek, hyperrealist plasticity that is often associated with textures in the medium. Those warmer surfaces allow THE PEANUTS MOVIE to be approached as a security blanket rather than some flashy novelty.
The film revisits many of the touchstones found in other PEANUTS properties. Charlie Brown remains a regular, angst-ridden boy who nevertheless sustains eternal hope that his day to be in the spotlight may yet arrive. His loyal dog Snoopy imagines pursuing the Red Baron in his biplane. The other kids view him as unexceptional but good-hearted. He wishes desperately to impress the little red-haired girl who moves in across the street.
The visual style goes hand in hand with the earnest, humane tone the film strikes. THE PEANUTS MOVIE is funny in a gentle way, but it’s also attuned to the fears and insecurities that children and, for that matter, adults carry. Charlie Brown fails and gets embarrassed. He worries about how things might go for him. Through it all, he displays a fundamental decency that others notice, even if they criticize and laugh at him sometimes. THE PEANUTS MOVIE recognizes these crucial aspects of Schulz’s work and renders them in a format considered more accessible to kids today.
3D animation is really the only thing that differentiates this from other PEANUTS ventures. Story-wise it feels like a greatest hits compilation rather than something new, but it’s a modest charmer that benefits from sticking to what we’re used to rather than being modernized.
Grade: B
Friday, March 27, 2015
Home
HOME (Tim Johnson, 2015)
The stout, six-legged, purple alien species Boov excel at running away, and they’re doing it once again as they are being pursued by the planet-demolishing Gorg in HOME. Feckless leader Captain Smek (Steve Martin) relocate the Boov to Earth, where they promptly ship out all humans to congested neighborhoods in Australia dubbed Happy Humanstown. Oh (Jim Parsons), so named because of the groans he is greeted with, is excited for a fresh start, but when he sends his party invitation to the entire galaxy, it’s only a matter of forty hours until the Gorg receive it and attempt to destroy them.
Meanwhile, seventh grader Gratuity Tucci, better known as Tip (Rihanna), is looking for her mother after being missed during the Boov’s relocation phase. She encounters Oh when he’s a fugitive from Boov authorities and strikes an uneasy alliance with him to find her mom. Oh intends to take them to Antarctica, which is the only place on Earth with no Boov, while Tip thinks they are headed to Boov Command Central in Paris to search for her mom in the database.
There’s a subtle, if unelaborated, message about colonialism running through HOME. Oh says, “Boov do not steal and destruct. Boov liberate and befriend.” While Happy Humanstown is a colorful, cartoonish place, there’s no mistaking it for a giant ghetto. HOME doesn’t directly comment on these aspects of the story, which makes their inclusion kind of awkward in the grand scheme of things, especially because the primary theme is about not feeling like one fits in. Tip and her mother are immigrants from Barbados, and the challenges they’ve experienced color how they relate to the Boov.
HOME doesn’t push its theme too insistently, and the relationship between Oh and Tip has an easygoing feel that keeps the mismatched pair from becoming grating. Because Oh talks like THE BIG BANG THEORY’s Sheldon Cooper with traces of Jar-Jar Binks’ patois, the character runs the risk of becoming insufferable. Director Tim Johnson is careful to have Parsons not overdo his alien on the autism spectrum act.
If studios have identifiable characteristics, HOME is readily noted as a DreamWorks production. It’s irreverent, which can be fun to a point, but it’s also indistinguishable from other bright, loud entertainment for kids.
Grade: B-
Tuesday, December 02, 2014
Penguins of Madagascar
PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR (Eric Darnell and Simon J. Smith, 2014)
Referring to an animated film rather than a cartoon doesn’t connote the reach for creative validation implicit in the usage of graphic novel versus comic book, yet in both cases reduced mentions of the more juvenile-seeming term have brought more realism often at the expense of the frivolous. Today’s computer-animated offerings certainly still employ lighthearted comedy, but now silly jokes rarely seem to be enough on their own to sustain cinematic entertainment for kids. Something of substance must be conveyed as well, as though there’s a proficiency test all children’s films must prepare small viewers for. Animated characters are guided to put down their anvils for releasing on antagonists’ heads in favor of dropping life lessons. Taking animation more seriously has resulted in quality work receiving recognition that might not have come when it was written off as merely kids’ stuff, but it shouldn’t necessitate squeezing out less nourishing fare. Thankfully, PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR, which sets a course for non-stop zaniness, is a step toward restoring balance. The side characters’ spin-off film isn’t adage-free, but its message is a pill ground up and baked into a piece of cake.
PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR fills in how the four fowls became a unit separated from their colony and then picks up their story after the events of MADAGASCAR 3: EUROPE’S MOST WANTED. The appropriately named leader Skipper (Tom McGrath), brains of the group Kowalski (Chris Miller), demolitions expert Rico (Conrad Vernon), and secretary/mascot Private (Christopher Knights) plan to rob Fort Knox, although their sights are set on plundering a vending machine’s stash of discontinued Cheezy Dibbles than raiding the vault. Waiting for them is Dave (John Malkovich), an octopus known in disguise to the general public as Dr. Octavius Brine. Dave captures the penguins and takes them to his lair in Venice.
Dave too was once a featured resident of the Central Park Zoo, but he was shipped out when the penguins arrived and seized the attention of those who used to come to see him perform. Sent from park to park as other penguins continued to steal his thunder, Dave seeks revenge on their kind. He plans to use a serum on all penguins that will make the cute birds significantly less cuddly. This foursome gets rescued by The North Wind, a group of polar animals that help those who can’t help themselves. The North Wind believes the penguins will muck up their efforts to bring Dave to justice and sends them away, but the penguins have other things in mind.
PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR distinguishes itself with a combination of clever setpieces, wordplay, and some inspired celebrity voice casting. A chase through Venice and a sequence of midair plane-hopping deliver fleet and funny action that animation excels at. The penguins are humorous in their lack of self-awareness and inflated but not undeserved pride in tactical maneuvers. The dialogue stands out by verbing the names of actors and actresses into puns. Werner Herzog’s opening narration is an inspired joke, especially given his views on nature’s mercilessness. Malkovich’s delicious interpretation of an evil genius octopus serves as a terrific example of how trading on a well-known actor’s persona can be creatively wise and more than just a way of attaching familiar name to promote the film.
Like the other MADAGASCAR films, PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR isn’t something that sticks as being important or necessarily memorable in the long run, but it’s an enjoyable time that’s as worthwhile in moderation as the empty calories the penguins crave.
Grade: B
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Space Jam
SPACE JAM (Joe Pytka, 1996)
There’s nothing wrong with possessing warm remembrances about the stuff of our youth, but those memories shouldn’t cloud judgments of what’s good and what’s beloved because it reminds of yesteryear. My generation seems convinced that THE GOONIES is an all-time classic, although I can’t say I was on board with that declaration whenever I last saw the fantasy adventure. ‘90s kids assert that SPACE JAM is also one of the greats. Students at the university where I work expressed surprise that a cinephile like me hadn’t seen it. Without prejudging SPACE JAM I could probably list a thousand films that are bigger gaps in my cinematic education, but I’m willing to humor the request to review it if just to discover what captured a younger audience’s imagination.
SPACE JAM builds on basketball superstar Michael Jordan’s real life decision to retire from the NBA the first time so he can pursue a dream of playing professional baseball. While Jordan struggles in Birmingham with the Double-A affiliate of the Chicago White Sox, aliens invade the land of Looney Tunes characters. The Nerdlucks plan to take Bugs Bunny and pals as prisoners meant to slave away as the new attractions at outer space amusement park Moron Mountain. Before being whisked to another part of the galaxy Bugs convinces the small creatures that rules dictate that they must compete in a basketball game for their freedom.
Beating the short, inexperienced Nerdlucks looks like an easy task until the aliens steal the talent of NBA stars Charles Barkley, Patrick Ewing, Larry Johnson, Muggsy Bogues, and Shawn Bradley and transform into the hulking, hooping Monstars. The Looney Tunes literally rope Jordan into being their ringer and best hope from forced servitude, or at least that which isn’t under the control of Warner Bros.
Jordan’s skills on the court could often seem like a cartoon character defying the laws of gravity, so it makes some sense to put him into a setting where there are no physical limitations. SPACE JAM’s first stretch functions as Jordan legend-polishing via self-deprecation as he takes the needling about his futility as a pro baseball player while the basketball sequences aim to put him on his rightful pedestal as basketball’s greatest. Jordan shoots and dunks over animated behemoths, but frankly it’s less impressive than just rolling one of his highlight reels. Except for one instance, director Joe Pytka doesn’t utilize the cartoon world to exaggerate Jordan’s feats, which works at cross purposes for putting him there in the first place.
SPACE JAM might have worked as a novelty short, but as a feature-length film it leaves a lot to be desired. Although Bugs Bunny is listed as a co-headliner, he, Daffy Duck, Yosemite Sam, and the rest of the Looney Tunes gang are really just there to prop up the NBA All-Star. Jordan performs acceptably as himself, or the version that was a highly-sought commercial pitchman, but he’s not predisposed to the kind of zany comedy for which his co-stars are beloved. With an ill-fitting combination of 2D and 3D animation styles, at least to my eyes now, SPACE JAM trudges through a creaky plot without much in the way of visual ingenuity or zippy wordplay. Funny visual gags with Barons publicist Stan (Wayne Knight) in an enormous hole and later getting flattened like a pancake are about the extent of SPACE JAM’s playfulness with the collision of real and cartoon universes. Of the one-liners that connect, the best is a potshot at Walt Disney Pictures and what they chose to name their then-new NHL franchise.
SPACE JAM fills the bill as inoffensive children’s entertainment, but’s it’s unfortunate that it, not LOONEY TUNES: BACK IN ACTION, is the live-action/animated hybrid that is fondly remembered. The latter is truer to the spirit of the classic cartoons and characters, not to mention much funnier.
Grade:D+
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
The Wind Rises (Kaze tachinu)
THE WIND RISES (KAZE TACHINU) (Hayao Miyazaki, 2013)
It is said that Alfred Nobel hoped he might bring about an end to war by inventing dynamite. The explosive would cause mutual destruction and thus deter combat. Nobel’s hypothesis, whether apocryphal or not, was proven grossly incorrect. The unintended consequences of creation also come into play in THE WIND RISES, writer-director Hayao Miyazaki’s fictionalized and animated biography of Jiro Horikoshi, who designed Japan’s Zero fighter.
Airplanes captivate Jiro (Hideaki Anno) so much that he often imagines conversations with Italian plane designer Giovanni Battista Caproni. Too nearsighted to be a pilot, he sets his focus on becoming an aeronautical engineer. Jiro is single-minded in his work and becomes a golden boy at the Mitsubishi Internal Combustion Engine Co. between World Wars I and II. He is given time to let his mind roam and sent to Germany to see the all-metal airframes that the Japanese hope to use as they develop new fighters. Although Jiro experiences setbacks, he continues to dream of the beautiful flying machine that he will bring into reality.
A verse from a Paul Valéry poem--”The wind is rising! We must try to live.”--begins the film, provides its title, and is mentioned regularly throughout. The quotation describes Jiro’s mindset as he endures his country’s poverty, an earthquake, war, and a tragic romance with Naoko Satomi (Miori Takimoto). Terrible things happen and are on the horizon, but there is beauty and wonder to behold as well. Just as the wind can inflict destruction, so too can it spread life.
For Jiro the plane he is trying to perfect embodies mathematically elegant design that enables sailing among the clouds like in his childhood visions. In actuality his achievement becomes a killing machine. THE WIND RISES suggests that Jiro is a dreamer who isn’t ignorant of what he is creating but is susceptible to going about his work with an idealized conception of its purpose. To Miyazaki the great sorrow is in lovely inventions being perverted into agents of death and ruination. Technological advances are not inherently moral or immoral. The enormous challenge, one that is often failed, is to choose to use such discoveries for the good.
THE WIND RISES is purportedly Miyazaki’s final film. If so, it presents a fitting summary of his loves and concerns. It celebrates ingenuity and imagination, as when Jiro observes the curve of mackerel bones and applies natural design to make a better frame for his plane. It bemoans how militarism and economic forces can harm the health of the people and the environment. No villain exists in THE WIND RISES other than the destructive human instinct. For all of his enthusiasm about the wonderful things humanity might dream up, Miyazaki worries to what end they will be employed. The bittersweet tone is not intended to discourage progress but to inspire mindfulness in how innovations are implemented. The verse his film quotes implies that obstacles will always be in the way of happiness, yet it is worth striving to grasp whatever grace exists and resist the forces of doom.
Grade: A
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
From Up on Poppy Hill (Kokuriko-zaka kara)
FROM UP ON POPPY HILL (KOKURIKO-ZAKA KARA) (Goro Miyazaki, 2011)
“Was ist das Leben ohne Liebesglanz?”, a quotation from Friedrich Schiller’s WALLENSTEIN’S TOD, is scribbled on a clubhouse wall in the foreground of a late scene in FROM UP ON POPPY HILL (KOKURIKO-ZAKA KARA). The passage translates as “What is life without the light of love?” Although the rhetorical question goes uninterpreted on-screen, the sentiment within it informs every moment of the animated romantic drama.
Each morning outside her family’s hilltop boarding house Umi Matsuzaki (Masami Nagasawa) raises signal flags in memory of her father, a captain whose supply ship sank during the Korean War. The high school junior’s messages aren’t intended for any of the boats in the harbor, but someone passing by on a tugboat notices and publishes a poem about Umi’s daily ritual in the school newspaper. Needing to devote time outside of classes to maintaining the home for her siblings and lodgers, especially with her mother studying abroad, Umi isn’t used to having attention directed her way.
To her surprise she begins bonding with classmate Shun Kazama (Jun’ichi Okada), who helps run the school paper. At first she’s unimpressed with the stunt he pulls to draw attention to the pending demolition of the Latin Quarter clubhouse, but his respect for the past impresses her. In 1963 Japan they stand in opposition to a cultural movement that seeks to move forward by ignoring history and, in some instances, tearing it down in preparation for the Tokyo Olympics. Umi and Shun spearhead a plan to rally their fellow students to clean up the clubhouse and reveal the dusty, creaky building as a beautiful place worth preserving.
Love is eternal in FROM UP ON POPPY HILL. It is represented not only in the attraction two people feel when together but also through a gesture intended for someone who has passed. Love is progress that honors history and nature rather than spreading destruction in the name of advancement. Dealing with themes familiar in the work of his father Hayao Miyazaki, who co-writes with Keiko Niwa, director Goro Miyazaki guides a sweet and delicate coming of age tale for the main characters and their country after World War II.
The sweep of vintage melodrama is well-suited for the volatile feelings stirred up in teenage romance and a time of national transition, yet for all of the strong emotions elicited in FROM UP ON POPPY HILL, it adopts a determinedly practical mindset about confronting the plot’s obstacles. Rather than minimizing the stakes, this logical approach enhances the potential tragedy in personal and cultural changes.
FROM UP ON POPPY HILL’s gorgeous animation is devoted to bringing out the subtlety in interactions instead of imagining elaborate setpieces. Slight variations in expressions carry and expand the emotional current in a manner more associated with live-action films. Miyazaki’s ability to coax such understated performances out of the drawings and voice acting stands as the film’s major achievement.
Grade: A
(FROM UP ON POPPY HILL is now available in a Blu-ray and DVD combo pack that includes the original Japanese-language track and an English-language dub.)
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
It's Such a Beautiful Day
IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY (Don Hertzfeldt, 2012)
Basic techniques yield complex results in Don Hertzfeldt’s hand-drawn animated and mixed media epic IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY. The feature film is comprised of three shorts (EVERYTHING WILL BE OK, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU, and IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY) in which Bill, a stick figure everyman, wrestles with existential despair, health problems, and a family history of mental illness.
Underneath IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY’s simple surface and droll humor is a philosophical core as dense as any film’s. Hertzfeldt’s trenchant examination of the human condition cuts to the essence of what keeps people awake at nights and occupies our minds in those moments when the noise and distractions of everyday life are quieted. Bill frets over germs in the produce aisle and awkward social interactions. He also dwells on what could be a wasted life and the death that will all too quickly end it at some unknown point.
Although Bill expends untold neurotic energy on the things he can’t control, IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY also acknowledges the exquisite blessings surrounding us that often go unnoticed until circumstances force appreciation for even the tiniest marvel. As the put-upon protagonist gains compassion for the people in his past and the answer to the meaning of life, Hertzfeldt transforms sorrow and existential agitation into triumphant acceptance of life in its entirety, including its culmination. To put it in the film’s comedically askew terms, what’s the use in worrying about contracting a fatal disease when there’s always the chance of getting run over by a train.
Rather than emphasizing a nihilistic streak, the bittersweet tone of IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY comforts with the assurance that everyone shares these fears and doubts. The stripped-down style enhances identification with Bill and permits subtle expressiveness to be interpreted in his reactions. Hertzfeldt’s acerbically funny and deeply moving experimental film does a lot with a little.
Grade: B+
Basic techniques yield complex results in Don Hertzfeldt’s hand-drawn animated and mixed media epic IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY. The feature film is comprised of three shorts (EVERYTHING WILL BE OK, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU, and IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY) in which Bill, a stick figure everyman, wrestles with existential despair, health problems, and a family history of mental illness.
Underneath IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY’s simple surface and droll humor is a philosophical core as dense as any film’s. Hertzfeldt’s trenchant examination of the human condition cuts to the essence of what keeps people awake at nights and occupies our minds in those moments when the noise and distractions of everyday life are quieted. Bill frets over germs in the produce aisle and awkward social interactions. He also dwells on what could be a wasted life and the death that will all too quickly end it at some unknown point.
Although Bill expends untold neurotic energy on the things he can’t control, IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY also acknowledges the exquisite blessings surrounding us that often go unnoticed until circumstances force appreciation for even the tiniest marvel. As the put-upon protagonist gains compassion for the people in his past and the answer to the meaning of life, Hertzfeldt transforms sorrow and existential agitation into triumphant acceptance of life in its entirety, including its culmination. To put it in the film’s comedically askew terms, what’s the use in worrying about contracting a fatal disease when there’s always the chance of getting run over by a train.
Rather than emphasizing a nihilistic streak, the bittersweet tone of IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY comforts with the assurance that everyone shares these fears and doubts. The stripped-down style enhances identification with Bill and permits subtle expressiveness to be interpreted in his reactions. Hertzfeldt’s acerbically funny and deeply moving experimental film does a lot with a little.
Grade: B+
Wednesday, November 07, 2012
My Neighbor Totoro
MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO (TONARI NO TOTORO) (Hayao Miyazaki, 1988)
In no time at all sisters Satsuki (Noriko Hidaka) and Mei (Chika Sakamoto) enjoy exploring the new home they moved into with their father (Shigesato Itoi) in MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO. They laugh about its less than pristine condition and are intrigued by the dust bunnies--or soot sprites, as an elderly woman (Tanie Kitabayashi) nearby calls them--that scatter when they throw open the doors and windows to long-closed rooms. This new place suits them fine, although they’d prefer for their hospital-bound mother (Sumi Shimamoto) to have joined them already.
While Satsuki is at school and her father works in his office, four-year-old Mei wanders around the garden where she spots two small, unfamiliar creatures. She chases them into the forest and encounters a much larger one that also resembles an egg-shaped cat and rabbit hybrid. Mei tells her sister and father that she met a totoro, or a troll from one of her storybooks. She wants to introduce them but is unable to find the way back to the spirits. The totoro reappear from time to time to enhance the girls’ appreciation of nature and to comfort them when distressed.
As a hangout movie for kids, MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO pleases with its easygoing pace, curiosity about the natural world, and sweet spirit. It’s not quite a plotless film, but there’s an ambling feel to the unfolding story, as though these are just a few days plucked from the stream of Satsuki and Mei’s time. They play, they learn, and they rest. Discovering the totoro is as and no more noteworthy than spotting any other woodland animal.
MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO lacks a villain, although the illness of the girls’ mother is a concern to the youngsters. Here again writer-director Hayao Miyazaki takes a different tack, choosing not to impart major lessons or have his characters pursue self-actualization. Instead he portrays such a matter as part of life rather than an all-consuming worry. The children fret but are reassured by both parents and the old woman who sometimes looks over them.
Miyazaki characterizes the children as children in all of their brash, inquisitive, creative, and vulnerable ways. MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO respects where kids are in their development and provides them an unhurried space to continue to explore at their own speed. Not much happens, yet every day is an adventure. Few films understand childhood in such terms and present it in such beautiful imagery.
Grade: B
In no time at all sisters Satsuki (Noriko Hidaka) and Mei (Chika Sakamoto) enjoy exploring the new home they moved into with their father (Shigesato Itoi) in MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO. They laugh about its less than pristine condition and are intrigued by the dust bunnies--or soot sprites, as an elderly woman (Tanie Kitabayashi) nearby calls them--that scatter when they throw open the doors and windows to long-closed rooms. This new place suits them fine, although they’d prefer for their hospital-bound mother (Sumi Shimamoto) to have joined them already.
While Satsuki is at school and her father works in his office, four-year-old Mei wanders around the garden where she spots two small, unfamiliar creatures. She chases them into the forest and encounters a much larger one that also resembles an egg-shaped cat and rabbit hybrid. Mei tells her sister and father that she met a totoro, or a troll from one of her storybooks. She wants to introduce them but is unable to find the way back to the spirits. The totoro reappear from time to time to enhance the girls’ appreciation of nature and to comfort them when distressed.
As a hangout movie for kids, MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO pleases with its easygoing pace, curiosity about the natural world, and sweet spirit. It’s not quite a plotless film, but there’s an ambling feel to the unfolding story, as though these are just a few days plucked from the stream of Satsuki and Mei’s time. They play, they learn, and they rest. Discovering the totoro is as and no more noteworthy than spotting any other woodland animal.
MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO lacks a villain, although the illness of the girls’ mother is a concern to the youngsters. Here again writer-director Hayao Miyazaki takes a different tack, choosing not to impart major lessons or have his characters pursue self-actualization. Instead he portrays such a matter as part of life rather than an all-consuming worry. The children fret but are reassured by both parents and the old woman who sometimes looks over them.
Miyazaki characterizes the children as children in all of their brash, inquisitive, creative, and vulnerable ways. MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO respects where kids are in their development and provides them an unhurried space to continue to explore at their own speed. Not much happens, yet every day is an adventure. Few films understand childhood in such terms and present it in such beautiful imagery.
Grade: B
Friday, July 27, 2012
A Cat in Paris (Un vie de chat)
A CAT IN PARIS (UN VIE DE CHAT) (Alain Gagnol and Jean-Loup Felicioli, 2010)
By day black cat Dino is the best friend of Zoe, a small child who has lost her voice since the murder of her father. The companionship Dino provides is ever so important with Zoe’s police superintendent mother Jeanne wrapped up in the hunt for her husband’s killer, Victor Costa. With the art treasure The Colossus of Nairobi scheduled to be moved, Jeanne expects the gangster to be flushed out.
By night Dino is the accomplice of cat burglar Nico. No one is the wiser to the cat’s double life in A CAT IN PARIS (UN VIE DE CHAT) until one evening when Zoe slips out her bedroom window to follow him. During this nighttime adventure she stumbles upon Costa and his hapless underlings. Nico and Dino come to Zoe’s rescue, but her safety is temporary. The police, now wise to the burglar’s activities because of the telltale paw prints at the crime scenes, take him away and unwittingly place the girl in the care of one of Costa’s associates.
In two of the last three years Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences members have thrown a few curveballs in the Best Animated Feature category by nominating small, largely unknown films alongside the products from industry heavyweights. A CAT IN PARIS was one of two foreign-language animated features nominated for the 84th Academy Awards. While the fluid hand-drawn animation provides a pleasant stylistic alternative to the predominance of 3D computer animation in the marketplace, the story leaves a lot to be desired.
Deceased or absent parents are not new to children’s stories, but the casualness with which the information of Zoe’s murdered father is introduced comes across somewhat distressingly. His death haunts Jeanne, per her nightmarish visions, and has turned Zoe mute. A CAT IN PARIS doesn’t dwell on these details, but for such a slight film in narrative terms, it carries excessive psychological weight.
A CAT IN PARIS gets bogged down in the middle section with the bumblings and strained jokes of Costa and his goons. Even at a lean 70 minutes, the film feels padded out and unfocused. When the low-key vibe works, it’s during Nico’s jazz-accompanied rooftop wanderings and thefts, in part because these scenes bring grace and humor mostly lacking in the other parts.
The titular cat is granted the full range of reactions and is good for some laughs, especially when he goes on the offensive in face-hugger mode. Meanwhile, the human characters are given simplistic personalities that aren’t helped by the energy-deficient vocal performances. (The English-language dub of the film adds celebrity voices [Marcia Gay Harden, Anjelica Huston, Matthew Modine] with little to no benefit.) The thin characterization is especially problematic with Nico and how his storyline develops. Although he hints at motivations beyond mere self-enriching thievery, A CAT IN PARIS never follows up on the matter and leaves big questions with how his arc resolves.
By the end A CAT IN PARIS feels like a film split in its priorities and satisfactorily achieving none of them. It misses as quality children’s entertainment through a self-serious, downbeat story without an engaging main character. Nods to film noir detective stories aside, the flimsy story doesn’t give adults much to latch onto either.
Grade: C
By day black cat Dino is the best friend of Zoe, a small child who has lost her voice since the murder of her father. The companionship Dino provides is ever so important with Zoe’s police superintendent mother Jeanne wrapped up in the hunt for her husband’s killer, Victor Costa. With the art treasure The Colossus of Nairobi scheduled to be moved, Jeanne expects the gangster to be flushed out.
By night Dino is the accomplice of cat burglar Nico. No one is the wiser to the cat’s double life in A CAT IN PARIS (UN VIE DE CHAT) until one evening when Zoe slips out her bedroom window to follow him. During this nighttime adventure she stumbles upon Costa and his hapless underlings. Nico and Dino come to Zoe’s rescue, but her safety is temporary. The police, now wise to the burglar’s activities because of the telltale paw prints at the crime scenes, take him away and unwittingly place the girl in the care of one of Costa’s associates.
In two of the last three years Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences members have thrown a few curveballs in the Best Animated Feature category by nominating small, largely unknown films alongside the products from industry heavyweights. A CAT IN PARIS was one of two foreign-language animated features nominated for the 84th Academy Awards. While the fluid hand-drawn animation provides a pleasant stylistic alternative to the predominance of 3D computer animation in the marketplace, the story leaves a lot to be desired.
Deceased or absent parents are not new to children’s stories, but the casualness with which the information of Zoe’s murdered father is introduced comes across somewhat distressingly. His death haunts Jeanne, per her nightmarish visions, and has turned Zoe mute. A CAT IN PARIS doesn’t dwell on these details, but for such a slight film in narrative terms, it carries excessive psychological weight.
A CAT IN PARIS gets bogged down in the middle section with the bumblings and strained jokes of Costa and his goons. Even at a lean 70 minutes, the film feels padded out and unfocused. When the low-key vibe works, it’s during Nico’s jazz-accompanied rooftop wanderings and thefts, in part because these scenes bring grace and humor mostly lacking in the other parts.
The titular cat is granted the full range of reactions and is good for some laughs, especially when he goes on the offensive in face-hugger mode. Meanwhile, the human characters are given simplistic personalities that aren’t helped by the energy-deficient vocal performances. (The English-language dub of the film adds celebrity voices [Marcia Gay Harden, Anjelica Huston, Matthew Modine] with little to no benefit.) The thin characterization is especially problematic with Nico and how his storyline develops. Although he hints at motivations beyond mere self-enriching thievery, A CAT IN PARIS never follows up on the matter and leaves big questions with how his arc resolves.
By the end A CAT IN PARIS feels like a film split in its priorities and satisfactorily achieving none of them. It misses as quality children’s entertainment through a self-serious, downbeat story without an engaging main character. Nods to film noir detective stories aside, the flimsy story doesn’t give adults much to latch onto either.
Grade: C
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Ice Age: Continental Drift
ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT (Steve Martino and Mike Thurmeier, 2012)
Woolly mammoth Manny (Ray Romano), sabre-toothed tiger Diego (Denis Leary), and sloths Sid (John Leguizamo), and Granny (Wanda Sykes) embark on an epic journey to return to the herd when Pangaea’s break-up separates them from their makeshift family. ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT sets the ragtag gang on a hunk of ice and sends them out to sea.
After surviving a violent storm, Manny and friends cross paths with an iceberg fashioned into a ship, but rather than this encounter leading to their rescue, it creates another set of problems. Captain Gutt (Peter Dinklage), an ape so named for what he likes to do with his claws, demands they join his band of pirates or face the consequences.
Back on the mainland, Manny’s teenage daughter Peaches (Keke Palmer) wrestles with peer pressure. She has a crush on Ethan (Drake) and wants to hang out with the cool crowd, but doing so means rejecting her molehog friend Louis (Josh Gad) and not being true to who she really is.
Directors Steve Martino and Mike Thurmeier keep ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT moving at a steady clip and the various objects comin’ at ya for 3D viewers. The action and jokes zip by with the speed of processors rendering the digital animation files. The fourth film in the ICE AGE series is lighter in tone from the past couple entries and busy enough to give the impression that all this activity is a good time. All that positive energy can’t distract from the fact that the filmmakers are treading water, though. It’s a hollow simulation of what fun for the whole family looks and sounds like.
Neither the main characters nor the celebrity voice work have been distinguished in the ICE AGE films. That’s no different this time around, but two newcomers liven things up a bit. The resonance in Dinklage’s voice makes the villain especially fearsome. Sykes adds much-needed looniness by imbuing Sid’s grandmother with the kind of sass projected onto the honey badger in internet memes.
As in previous ICE AGE installments, the funniest parts of CONTINENTAL DRIFT belong to the non-speaking sabre-toothed squirrel Scrat. Free from having to impart lessons about the importance of family or being true to oneself, Scrat can scamper about on his Sisyphean effort to get those elusive acorns. While Scrat’s interstitial scenes are beginning to get stale, they still have the cartoon silliness and cleverness found wanting in the main story.
Grade: C
Woolly mammoth Manny (Ray Romano), sabre-toothed tiger Diego (Denis Leary), and sloths Sid (John Leguizamo), and Granny (Wanda Sykes) embark on an epic journey to return to the herd when Pangaea’s break-up separates them from their makeshift family. ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT sets the ragtag gang on a hunk of ice and sends them out to sea.
After surviving a violent storm, Manny and friends cross paths with an iceberg fashioned into a ship, but rather than this encounter leading to their rescue, it creates another set of problems. Captain Gutt (Peter Dinklage), an ape so named for what he likes to do with his claws, demands they join his band of pirates or face the consequences.
Back on the mainland, Manny’s teenage daughter Peaches (Keke Palmer) wrestles with peer pressure. She has a crush on Ethan (Drake) and wants to hang out with the cool crowd, but doing so means rejecting her molehog friend Louis (Josh Gad) and not being true to who she really is.
Directors Steve Martino and Mike Thurmeier keep ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT moving at a steady clip and the various objects comin’ at ya for 3D viewers. The action and jokes zip by with the speed of processors rendering the digital animation files. The fourth film in the ICE AGE series is lighter in tone from the past couple entries and busy enough to give the impression that all this activity is a good time. All that positive energy can’t distract from the fact that the filmmakers are treading water, though. It’s a hollow simulation of what fun for the whole family looks and sounds like.
Neither the main characters nor the celebrity voice work have been distinguished in the ICE AGE films. That’s no different this time around, but two newcomers liven things up a bit. The resonance in Dinklage’s voice makes the villain especially fearsome. Sykes adds much-needed looniness by imbuing Sid’s grandmother with the kind of sass projected onto the honey badger in internet memes.
As in previous ICE AGE installments, the funniest parts of CONTINENTAL DRIFT belong to the non-speaking sabre-toothed squirrel Scrat. Free from having to impart lessons about the importance of family or being true to oneself, Scrat can scamper about on his Sisyphean effort to get those elusive acorns. While Scrat’s interstitial scenes are beginning to get stale, they still have the cartoon silliness and cleverness found wanting in the main story.
Grade: C
Labels:
2012,
animation,
Continental Drift,
Denis Leary,
Drake,
Ice Age,
John Leguizamo,
Josh Gad,
Keke Palmer,
Mike Thurmeier,
Peter Dinklage,
Ray Romano,
Steve Martino,
Wanda Sykes
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