WES ANDERSON ROUNDTABLE: THE FANTASTIC MR. FOX

Every now and then at Screen Vistas I like to team up with Max O’Connell over at The Film Temple to tackle the work of one of our favorite directors. This time we’re looking at comedy stylist/master of whimsy Wes Anderson.

Loren Greenblatt: At the time, Life Aquatic and Darjeeling Limited left some people feeling that Wes Anderson was getting too caught up in his style.  He did little to assuage those anxieties with his follow up:  a stop-motion film, a form that, quite literally, gives him control over every hair of his mise-en sene.

Max O’Connell: Some already thought his films were cartoons – A.O. Scott seemed to dance around that idea in his The Royal Tenenbaums review, whereas those arguments become more common around The Darjeeling Limited. So, he did what anyone might do to counteract those arguments: he made a literal cartoon! And yet it’s become one of his most embraced films, well reviewed even if it didn’t do well at the box office, and a lot of people saw it as a return to form after Darjeeling and Life Aquatic split a lot of people.

LG: What else is interesting about the film is that Anderson doubles down on the storybook aspect. Like many Anderson films, it starts out with a book (the original Roald Dahl book), with an illustration of Mr. Fox, or “Foxy,” (Clooney) only to cut into a glorious sunset as Foxy listens to “Davey Crockett,” a spectacular myth-making song. Yeah, we’re in a fable all right!

MO: And part of what makes it such a wonderful fable is that it’s dealing with an antiquated style. 2D animation is becoming less popular as 3D animation boomed, and stop-motion has been almost completely phased out. Not too many people other than Laika and Tim Burton still do it. Which is a shame because it fits people like Wes perfectly, because while it’s not as fluid as, say, Up, that’s kind of the point. It has this wonderful warmth, this handmade quality. It looks like something out of a storybook.

LG: They animated the frames a little slower than they normally would have so we see the seams, too. There’s a sense of the thingness of things: you can clearly see that all of the smoke, for example, is made of little cotton balls and it’s adorable! And he’s adapting his overtly whimsical style that he used for adult stories to carry over to children’s films, which he’ll do again in Moonrise Kingdom.

LG: I think while there’s still some darkness and edge to both films, but it’s no secret that he’s let up on tone a lot here, this is by far his lightest film.

MO: Part of why it’s so wonderful is that it does maintain a bit of an edge, which is important. It’s something both Anderson and Dahl understood: children’s movies without any real conflict or sense of danger are really dull. Here, we get some of the Dahl macabre jokes. Fox gets his tail shot off, and it’s worn as a necktie by the main villain, Bean (Michael Gambon).

LG: And the hero actually kills someone, a rat played by Willem Dafoe. There’s not a lot of modern kids movies that have a death scene at this point, the kind of old-fashioned fairytale thing that a lot of recent kids movies have moved away from.

Anderson also lifts from film history. One of the big influences that struck me on this viewing is Raising Arizona. H.I. McDonagh and Foxy are both characters who give up a life of crime so they can raise a family, only to regress for their own reasons. Their animal instincts or criminal natures are still there, and both films are about putting those impulses behind you for the sake of growing up.

MO: I can see it. I’d also connect the film to traditions by Dahl, though, where family life is never ideal. In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, they’re all good people, but they struggle in poverty. In Matilda, it’s an unloving home. In Fox, the father’s kind of a cad (as George Clooney characters tend to be), and he’s a classic Wes Anderson bad dad. He’s not Royal Tenenbaum, but he’s not always the best father to Ash (Jason Schwartzman).

LG: He likes to give people false options to validate himself. From the first scene, he’s constantly intimidating people into going his way as a way to make them like him. It doesn’t always work.

MO: In Wes Anderson’s films, characters try to have an impossible level of control over their lives. Fox does that in an interesting way by trying to inject more spontaneity in his life rather than letting himself be controlled. He’s a wild animal, and he doesn’t want to give up that. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the doldrums, he wants to “steal squabs on the side.”

LG: He positions himself in ways where he’s almost trying to get into trouble, trying to inject spontaneity into his life where it might mess him up, and that kind of fits with what Wes is trying to do with animation and with his own style. There’s a sense of spontaneity here that’s rare in animation and I think it has a lot to do with the way the dialogue was recorded. In most animated films, actors record their dialogue separately in closed off sound booths, which is no way to act. Anderson was novel, recording his actors together, in physical locations mirroring those in the film. There’s a trade off sometimes in the technical quality of the recordings, but at the same time the technique adds life to the performances that might not be there otherwise.

MO: Yeah, the cast is wonderful. I’ve been on the record as being a semi-contrarian on Streep, in the sense that I think she’s frequently praised for performances that are well below par for her (*cough*Doubt*cough cough*The Iron Lady). Here’s a performance that’s actually underrated: she’s as warm and empathetic here in a way that she doesn’t always get to be, a companion character to Anjelica Huston’s mother figure in The Royal Tenenbaums.

LG: It helps that she’s picking better material and working with a great director for a change, instead of the auteur of Mamma Mia! 

MO: But while we’re talking about that new spontaneity, we shouldn’t undervalue how his films always the offbeat little character bits that stand out amidst the tight control over everything. What’s one of your favorite bits of side-whimsy here? Mine’s “Petey’s Song,” that wonderful Jarvis Cocker, playing the villain’s assistant, Petey, makes up a song that brings us up to speed but uses made-up words that displease the villain.

LG: “You can’t just make up words! That’s bad songwriting! Bad job, Petey!” The look on Petey’s face makes me feel that that this putdown is almost as big an act of villainy as Bean shooting off Foxy’s tail.

MO: Him making up a song on the fly infuriates a villain who’s one of Wes’s classic control freaks. Or maybe I’d go with the choice to have the characters say “cuss” instead of cursing, which hits its peak in that great little scene where Foxy and Badger (Bill Murray), his accountant, getting into a loud, wild animal argument.

LG: Yeah, there’s an interesting tension there, where they’re both anthropomorphized and animalistic at the same time. For me, I love Whack-Bat, with the ridiculously complex rules that remind me of Fizzbin from Star Trek. There’s this whole thing where Ash really wants to be the best Whack-Bat player like his dad, but he’s not an athlete. He’s trying to be his dad in a lot of ways, the mischief side especially, but he can’t really live up to it, so he’s inevitably going to go through sulky teenager phases. That’s only made worse by the arrival by his cousin Kristofferson (Eric Anderson, Wes’s brother), who’s very athletic and gains Foxy’s approval over his own son.

MO: This movie, like no Wes Anderson movie since Rushmore recognizes that kids can be cruel, too. It’s telling that Ash is played by Max Fischer himself. He doesn’t treat his cousin very well. Kristofferson is almost impossibly unassuming, even with all of his talent. He’s just a nice, calm kid trying to make the best of a situation where his father is deathly ill and he has to live with a bunch of relatives that he’s never met. Foxy takes to him right away, but Ash is needlessly cruel to him.

LG: We understand where that frustration comes: he’s jealous because of how his father takes to Kristofferson. But he can be cruel, yes. There’s a nice moment where Kristofferson wants to sleep in a less cramped position than under Ash’s bed, and Ash refuses. Kristofferson starts to cry, and Ash reluctantly realizes he’s being a dick and turns on his train set. There’s a moment of brief connection before more rivalry.

MO: “More rivalry” emphasized. He’s still awful to Kristofferson, even after he stands up for Ash when he’s being bullied.

LG: Every kid goes through a period where they’re dicks. It doesn’t help that he’s seen as “different.” It’s never mentioned that he’s dressed as a superhero with a little white cape and bandit hat. He’s that kid who’s a super-nerd and doesn’t understand why people don’t like him.

MO: He’s a strange little guy who’s trying to blend in and be something he’s not, much like Max Fischer. He wants to be an athlete and push down everything that’s unique about him, just like Max wanted to hide his working class roots.

LG: Though I’d stress that the pain isn’t as deeply felt here as it is in Anderson’s previous films, or even in another great children’s film from that year, Where the Wild Things Are, which has a similar theme running through it (and which we both love far more than the rest of the world).

MO: It makes sense that it is lighter, because he is making a children’s film. My minor complaints on this front is less that he’s treading lightly and more that there are times where I feel he spells something out a bit too much for kids or parents, as if he’s trusting them less. There’s a moment where Foxy says aloud to Felicity, “I need everyone to feel I’m the greatest.” We know his problems. We don’t need it restated. More notably is right after the rat, in his dying breath, gives them some information to help find Kristofferson, they say aloud something to the effect of, “He redeemed himself.” It’s already demonstrated beautifully in the scene before, so we don’t really need to be told, and I don’t think the kids need to be told either. Kids are smart. They’ll get it.

LG: Yeah, though I do love the line about him being “just another rat found in a garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.” It was a problem in The Darjeeling Limited too, what with the “you’ve still got some healing left” moment.

MO: Yeah, clonk. These aren’t as bad as that, they’re minor things.

LG: I can see Anderson and co-screenwriter Noah Baumbach feeling out to what degree they can be themselves in this film in certain scenes, but at its best it’s wonderfully idiosyncratic in the best Wes Anderson-y way. In the opening scene, Felicity and Foxy break the chicken roost in a large simulated tracking shot set to “Heroes and Villains.” That’s just such a joyful moment.

MO: It is. We talk about Anderson’s great use of music in all of his films, and this is no exception. You mentioned “Heroes and Villains,” I’ll mention the other Beach Boys song used, their version of “Old Man River,” which is so gentle compared to the more raucous song they use earlier.

LG: The only bit of music that doesn’t quite work for me is the use of “Street Fighting Man.” It’s in a great sequence, but I don’t think the song quite fits.

MO: I’m on the edge for that one as well, maybe just because I want him to use another left-of-center choice like “I Am Waiting” or “She Smiled Sweetly” or “Play With Fire” instead of a big hit. But I agree, thematically it doesn’t fit.

LG: Then again, I don’t know how “Heroes and Villains” fits thematically, but it’s perfect for the feeling. It’s his first film with Alexandre Desplat doing the score, as well, which gives it a wonderful rustic feel that separates it from his Mark Mothersbaugh collaborations.

MO: Desplat does his best work with Anderson. It’s not just a wonderful, whimsical nursery rhyme thing to it, but it also reminds me of the kind of stuff that Georges Delarue would have done for Truffaut in the 60s and 70s (Wes does use a Delarue song at a key point in the film), a bit like the jaunty score for “A Gorgeous Kid Like Me,” which Baumbach later used himself in Frances Ha.

LG: They both have this warm, loving, inviting style, which is something I love about what Anderson takes from Truffaut. They both love playing with film history in a warm, affectionate way, rather than the playful but cold way Godard does.

MO: Some of the references are a real delight. There’s a scene where Boggis, Bunch and Bean meet up and Bean is framed in the dark almost like Vito Corleone, plotting the death of another man (er, animal). And Bean’s freak out tearing apart a room is a nice, funny reference to Citizen Kane, where he’s reimaging a life-crushing moment from that film as a petty moment in Bean’s life.

LG: That scene in the dark reminded me of Once Upon a Time in the West where Harmonica’s waiting out in the dark, being shot at.

MO: That’s an interesting comparison, too, because there are more overt Leone throwbacks, as in some of the eye-framing standoff moments. It’s a much smaller scaled film, but he’s trying to give it that same kind of epic conflict. There’s also the bit of the score where Foxy confronts a wolf and the score plays like Ennio Morricone. Though, honestly, I never really got why that scene was there.

LG: Well, it’s his pure animal nature physically embodied. It’s completely without borders. It’s dangerous. It goes back to the Raising Arizona comparison I made, with the wolf in the place of the biker. It’s also a bit of a Jeremiah Johnson reference, where Redford sees his opposite in the distance and they acknowledge the power they have over each other before passing.

MO: That makes a bit more sense, though I still wish they played with it a bit more. Then again, I complained about him being too on-the-nose earlier, so maybe I just don’t know what the hell I’m looking for.

LG: I really love the ending of the film. You complained that the action sequences in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou were clumsy, but he does a pretty wonderful job here. It helps that he can control everything in the frame. The go-for-broke rescue scene is wonderful. They have to race through town, hiding behind crates as they’re being shot at, and Anderson really uses the stillness of stop-motion to his advantage to emphasize motion. The ending, though, after they’ve lost everything, they find a way to live outside of their nature and find a way to survive by taking from this supermarket. They’ve found a civilized world to be a part of, even if the lighting is fluorescent and awful and the linoleum floor doesn’t feel great on their feet, but they have each other to get through it. Of all the Wes Anderson films, this film more than any other stresses community.

MO: I wouldn’t say more than any other, since Moonrise Kingdom expands upon that, but it does more than any other Anderson film before it. We have all of these wonderful side characters (Murray’s Badger, Wally Wolodarsky’s spiral-eyed opossum Kylie) that Fox constantly talks over. There are two important toasts in the film: in the first, Fox interrupts Badger’s toast and makes it about himself. In the second, it’s more about everyone. It’s about sticking together and surviving, about creating a giant family and being about more than just yourself. It’s another cautiously optimistic ending, as it was in Rushmore, because it’s not going to be easy for them, but they can get through it together.

LG: Everything that happens is Fox’s fault, and it’s about him learning to get over his own selfishness. We love Clooney, as he’s a wonderful rascal, but watching him grow is all the more satisfying. And then we get that last song, Bobby Fuller Four’s “Let Her Dance.” It’s a song about infidelity and breakup, but it’s such an upbeat song. It’s like “Ooh La La” in Rushmore. There’s a sly attention to a mix between happiness and sadness that makes the ending work.

Loren’s Grade: B+

Max’s Grade: A-

That concludes our discussion of Fantastic Mr. Fox if you agreed or disagreed, feel free to leave a comment below. You can also follow Screen Vistas on Facebook by clicking here.

Roundtable Directory:  
Bottle Rocket (short and feature)
Rushmore
The Royal Tenenbaums
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissiou
Hotel Chevalier / Darjeeling Limited
The Fantastic Mr. Fox
Moonrise Kingdom
Shorts and Commercials
The Grand Budapest Hotel

THE LEGO MOVIE

On paper, The Lego Movie represents the worst of Hollywood filmmaking. Not only is it a transparent device to sell toys, it has a second level of product placement from other brands the marketing people would like you to be aware of (particularly DC Comics characters also owned by Warner Bros.). But if anything was to get me to give it a shot it would be the involvement of writer/directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller who've been on a hot streak with 21 Jump Street and the Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs films but in my mind will always be known as the creators of the irreverent, cult sit-com Clone High. The results here are charming, sly, and more complex than we might have expected. They succeed where other attempts to graft narratives onto toys have failed because they realize that whatever story that Legos tell are created by the kids and adults playing with them and their film revels in the joy of imagination and the diversity of play.

Consider the way the film renders its world. Taking inspiration from the stop-motion films Lego fans make, the entire film has a handmade quality which is unusual for CGI. The animation is designed to look like stop motion, horses move like an invisible hand is bucking them up and down and one character flies with the aid of dental floss, a choice that seems incongruous considering we've seen other characters fly the 'normal' way, but is completely in keeping with the films freewheeling nature. Even splashing water and explosions are represented as if they were stop-motion Lego pieces. All of this looks amazing and as accompanied by a playful Mark Mothersbaugh score that feels like a Daft Punk infused version of the music he did for Rugrats.

The rules of the world also speak to its toyetic nature: our hero Emmett (Chris Pratt) is a construction worker who joyously builds buildings all day long only to joyously knock them down at night. These Lego people only work, interact and fall in love in the limited ways a child might imagine. Also the film's central conflict is one that has long divided Lego lovers: to follow the instructions or go your own way.

The deeper implications of that conflict aren't entirely lost on Lord and Miller. The 'instructions' side of the debate is represented by the large corporation that controls all the music, tv shows, food, construction, etc, headed by the films villain Lord Business (Will Ferrell), and who's opposed by a small, rebellious group of imaginative but ineffective group of master builders waiting for the long prophesized  "special" who will have the power to... well, you know.

The extreme familiarity of some of these tropes is a bit of an issue – personally I've long ago reached my life long limit of 'chosen one' movies – but to the credit of the filmmakers, they never try and invest these elements with any sort of seriousness, and while the childlike playfulness and irreverence that they substitute sometimes falls disappointingly short of being a fill on spoof of action clichés, the childlike playfulness and irreverence they substitute manages some interesting subversions of the formula. I like that Emmett is almost as invested in following rules as Lord Business. Instead of being a power fantasy facilitating audience surrogate, Emmett likes being a normal, mediocre guy, going to work on time and listening to government supplied entertainment. There are stretches where he tries to be more, but mostly he doesn't have that breakthrough where he becomes the Lego God everyone wants him to, he remains as pleasantly ordinary as he starts and even encourages his comrades to conform 'just a little bit,' which opens up a philosophical debate about the rigidness of ideology the film isn't really interested in following up on and doesn't necessarily connect cleanly to its other ideas.

But honestly that's okay. It doesn't matter that not everything gels. It's still an impressively well done film filled with gorgeous animation and playful, imaginative action scenes based on the idea that everything in this world can be built and reconfigured on a dime. There are also some fun supporting performances, Liam Neeson shows up as a cop with a split personality, and while seeing licensed properties reminds us just how much Lego sold out in the 00's, I liked seeing a Will Arnett voiced Batman cast as the jerk boyfriend to the film's sorta love interest.

The Lego Movie is an effective toy commercial (I was never a huge Lego person as a kid, yet the film certainly made me want to give it a shot now), but the methods by which it's an effective commercial means it doubles as a wonderful exploration of imagination and play, particularly in the film's spectacular third act twist which features a fascinating father/son relationship. The film sells us on Legos not by showing us wonderful sets to buy (though it does that too), but showing that the toys are a conduit for imagination. Sure, not all the jokes land and, like many Lego products, it panders too hard to boys to the almost exclusion of girls, but I can certainly get behind it as a celebration of play.

Grade: B+

GRAVITY

After a painful, seven-year absence, Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón (Y Tu Mamá También, Children of Men) has returned with his most technically impressive film in a career. The nerve-wracking suspense thriller is one of those large scale epics that will probably be wasted on anyone watching at home. Its grand, vertigo inducing vistas featuring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney floating 30 miles above the Earth, demand to be seen in 3D and on the biggest screen possible.

The entire first act is captured in a single, stunningly extended, 17 minute take that starts with a breathtaking view of the Earth and a small speck that quickly grows into the Space Shuttle. As Cuarón's camera balletically zips around, we see astronaut Matt Kowalski (Clooney) testing a new jetpack while our protagonist, Dr. Ryan Stone (Bullock) completes repairs to the Hubble Telescope. We learn that while Kowalski is an old hand, Stone is a rookie, a mission specialist who's there more for her expertise with the equipment than her abilities as an astronaut. This inexperience makes what happens next so much worse for her. An unexpected cloud of debris strikes and destroys the shuttle, sending Stone flying off into the emptiness of space. Cut off from ground communication, low on oxygen with no chance of rescue and only 90 minutes till the debris orbits around the Earth and hits again, rarely have characters found themselves in more dire situations. 

Gravity might be the most authentic feeling space film ever made. All the equipment the astronauts use looks correct, Cuarón doesn't cheat the lack of sound in space, everything we hear in the film comes from the in helmet mics, and he makes extensive use of CGI to make the weightlessness work, and it all helps sell the peril, which is helpful in a film that was filmed with so many special effects. Even more than last years Life of Pi, Gravity blurs the line between what we consider to be an animated film and what is live action.
 
The CGI and the use of very long takes, which continues throughout the film, gives the film a decidedly videogame aesthetic. But what elevates Gravity's cinematography far above the level of a really good E3 demo is the personality that Cuarón and his regular cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, breathe into the camera movements. The camera never feels like a cold, remote observer, but instead flies around like an inquisitive child struck with fear and wonder and at the same time invigorated by the freedom of movement that zero-g offers.

For all of its intimidating technical achievements, the script (co-written by Cuarón and his son Jonas) is a bit clunky and too wordy, particularly towards the end. Also, while the film admirably tries to be weightier and give Stone an emotional back story, it sometimes feels like too much. Bollock delivers one of her best performances, but when we're spending the entire film thinking she could die at any moment the emotional stakes are already there and we don't have time to care about anything else. But these are minor quibbles, Gravity may not work as much more than a roller-coaster ride, but it's hard to care when it's the best damn roller coaster ride in town.

Grade: A-

WRECK-IT RALPH

Wreck-It Ralph, Disney's latest animated feature, might be the best videogame movie ever made. The film takes place inside the various games at an arcade. After the arcade closes down for the night the game characters are free to visit each other. The film features many cameo's from famous game characters like Pac-Man and Sonic, but the film follows the much putt upon Ralph (John C. Reilly).

Ralph is the "villain" of a popular Donkey Kong-esque arcade game in he which smashes up an apartment building, only to be thwarted by the games hero Fix-It Felix Jr. (30 Rock's Jack McBrayer). They've been doing this dozens of times a day for the past 30 years. At the end of every day Felix retires to a digital penthouse with a few more achievement medals and Ralph is forced to sleep in a nearby dump, a second class citizen everywhere he goes. One day Ralph decides he's not gonna take it anymore and abandons his game (this is called game-jumping) to find acceptance by winning a medal of his own.

At times, the film feels like a spiritual sequel to Toy Story with a healthy infusion of Tron. Indeed Toy Story director John Lasseter is a producer here. But there's enough personality for Ralph to stand on it's own. Part of that has to do with the work of writer/director Rich Moore. Moore, an animation veteran, has directed some of the better Simpsons episodes and the lions share of Futurama and injects a lot of that sensibility. For instance, part of Ralph's journey takes him to a gritty first person shooter, were he meets Calhoun (Jane Lynch), a brooding space marine who was "programed with the most traumatic back story imaginable."

Eventually Ralph's trek brings him to brightly a colored kid's racing game where the bulk of the film takes place. Here he meets Vanellope (Sarah Silverman), a spunky underdog, who's also mistreated by her fellow game characters, particularly by the games overlord King Candy (Alan Tudyk).

That world is amazingly designed. Vanellope's racing game is constructed entirely of perfectly rendered candy and pastries. Willy Wonka wishes his factory looked this delicious. But it's the variety of the different game's we see that help bring the film's world to life. The doesn't create one gorgeous world, it creates 3 or 4. My favorite was Ralph's game and all the little touches that go into selling it as a retro game. Like how the secondary characters all have choppy 16-bit style animations or how things always break in to pixel friendly shapes.

Beyond the visual razzal dazzle, the film has some nice twists (I really liked how the film handles the consequences of mixing games) and closes with an impressively complex action sequence, but despite all the cleverness on display, the film just cant shake an overwhelming feeling of familiarity. Also, I'm not sure how I feel about the film's ultimately conformist message. It's a very good videogame movie, I hope it spawns a franchise, but it's not a quite top-tier children's film.

The film is preceded by a wonderful little short film called Paperman, a silent rom-com about a man and woman who find love via paper airplanes. In addition to being a delightful piece of whimsy, the film is important on a technical level. It's rendered using new software that captures the look of traditional 2D artwork. The illusion is so convincing that you can often see individual brush strokes. It's a great example of how the traditional feel can live on in an industry dominated by new school methods.

Grades:
Paperman: A
Wreck-It Ralph: B+

BRAVE

Since 1995 Pixar has been pumping out some of the greatest animated films of all time like clockwork. They seemed to hit a peak with Ratatouille, Wall-E and Up, which where strong, iconoclastic, magical films, that absolutely should not work. Before Up, did you think kids would want to see a movie about a senior citizen getting over the death of his wife? Pixar’s latest offering isn’t as tough a sell as that, nor is it’s success as magical, but it’s still a satisfying film nonetheless. 

Brave shows us mediaeval Scotland through the eyes of Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald). Merida is a precocious lass, running, jumping, climbing, bow hunting. But being an energetic spitfire isn’t what her mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Tompson), wants for her daughter. She feels that it is the princess’s place to be lady like and prepare for life as a husband to one of the three tribes that keep the country together under the King (Billy Connolly). But Merida has other ideas and intentionally sabotages an archery contest that was to decide her betrothal. The scene is a wonderfully executed homage to Michael Curtiz’s The Adventures of Robin Hood.

Unfortunately her sabotage brings the kingdom to the brink of civil war and worst of all, alienates her from her mother. The interplay between mother and daughter is the heart of the film. It’s a nice break from the very boy-centric world of Hollywood. All the more refreshing that Pixar has managed to create this break without feeling like a chick flick. Merida has no love interest and isn't interested in finding one. The film never feels like it’s being niche, or in any way reductive. In fact the film is very richly conceived in terms of character and plot and Pixar has really outdone themselves with its conception of the film’s world. Merida’s hair isn’t just red, it seems to be every shade of red simultaneously. The films bears (a recurring motif in the film) are beautifully animated and display more personality than some entire films.

But despite being a refreshing change from the norm, it’s just not as masterful a film as we expect Pixar to put out these days. Despite a huge twist, the film does feel, at times, like it’s leaning a bit hard on Disney formula. No one breaks out into song, but during some of the musical montages they might as well have, it wouldn’t have mattered except that none of the songs are that memorable.

But still, these are just minor quibbles. The truth is that Brave is an impressively realized, entertaining film that earns every tear it’s likely to extract from the audience. Most importantly it really understands how to treat it’s female protagonist. It’s a good bonding film for mothers looking to take their daughters to the movies, and everyone else should thoroughly enjoy it too.

Like the majority of Pixar films, Brave is preceded by a short film. This one is called La Luna, which was nominated for Best Animated Short at last years Oscars. It’s a delightful little piece about family of janitors who commute to the Moon every night via boat and ladder. There’s not much to say other than it’s adorable and smile inducing.

Grades:

La Luna: B
Brave: B+

THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN

The Tintin comics are kinda like soccer, popular everywhere except America. It's a real shame too, because if Steven Spielberg's new film adaptation is any indication, we've been missing out on some great  adventures. For the uninitiated, Tintin was created by Belgian artist Hergé in the late 20's. The comics are notable for their innovative artwork and also being fun and whimsical.

This film is primarily based on the 11th book of the series The Secret of the Unicorn and bits and pieces from other entries. But all you really need to know is that Tintin (Jamie Bell) is basically Indiana Jones as a kid. Instead of being an archeologist, he's a boy reporter. He travels the world with his dog Snowy solving mysteries and getting into trouble.

We find the intrepid newskid at an outdoor market buying a model ship named the Unicorn. He has no particular interest in the ship beyond his love of history. But several parities have a much more immediate interest, particularly the villainous Sakharine (Daniel Craig) who's more than willing to kill to get his grubby hands on the model. As Tintin works to solve the case, he teams up with the comically inebriated Captain Haddock (a fantastic performance by Andy Serkis). Haddock knows a lot about the model, but only when he's sober—a very rare occurrence!

Spielberg has been trying to make this film, in one form or another, for about 30 years. The passion that he and producer Peter Jackson have for this character is positively infectious. There is a level of visual inventiveness here that is not often displayed in cinema. In one sequence we see two galleons. Both ships are being rocked back and forth by tremendous waves. They become entangled at the mast. The bigger ship tips back upright pulling the smaller ship out of the water entirely. The smaller ship dangles from the sails as pirates leap down from one ship to the other! In another scene two characters fight in an elaborate duel but instead of swords, the combatants stand behind the controls of giant cranes. Every time it seems the film cannot possibly have another great sequence, Spielberg pulls another great gag out of his bag of tricks!

pictured: excitement!

In a way, this is a return to a Spielberg we haven't seen since the 80's. But another way, this is a new Spielberg. The motion-caption techniques gives the film an improvisational feeling while still being animated. The style has all the creativity of animation, the gravity of live-action but never stumbles into the uncanny-valley as Robert Zemeckis has while using similar techniques. This film has freed Spielberg, it's a filmmakers imagination transcribed directly onto the screen. He can go anywhere, do anything. This film, this character has empowered him in a way I've never seen.

If the film is successful in America (it's already done gangbusters overseas), the sequel will be directed by Peter Jackson after he finishes The Hobbit. It's a shame that we're going to have to wait that long.

Grade: A

For those wishing to read the comics but don't know which of Tintin's 24 adventures to start with, the AVclub has recently published a very nice guide which you can find here. I've only read bits and pieces of comics, but I'm gonna run out and buy them at the earliest opportunity