On Superman's first major appearance in the original 1979 movie with Christopher Reeve, the "man of steel" saves Lois Lane from plummeting down 900 stories from the top of one of Metropolis' skyscrapers and becoming a human pancake. Lane asks the inevitable question, "Who are you?" Superman's reply is simply "a friend". That's what Superman would say. He probably would not call himself "Superman" lest to seem too aware of his own super magnificence, and thankfully he didn't flex his arms like the ridiculous TV show of the 1950's. Fast forward 10 years. In the film Batman a similar scene occurs at the opening with Batman apprehending some down-trodden baddies. The baddies ask the same question as Lois Lane, but the answer was "I'm Batman". Almost any other response would have been superior: "I'm your worst nightmare.", "You don't need to know my name.", even "I'm Blinky the Killer Clown." But replying "I'm Batman" really was a tip-off that the script still needed serious work, a problem that continues to plague many films produced under the corporate Hollywood system. Having Batman say "I'm Batman" is sort of akin to Dracula saying "I'm the Count!" or worse "I'm a Vampire!" proceeded by a cruel Romanian laugh.
The problem with this movie is that it couldn't quite decide if it was going to be Frank Miller's "Dark Knight", which was more akin to the early 1940's strips by creator Bob Kane, or the campy 1960's show with Adam West climbing up buildings and meeting the likes of Jerry Lewis or Dean Martin on the way to the roof top. If it was trying to be like Miller and/or Kane, it wasn't mysterious enough. If it was trying to be like West, it wasn't silly enough. Certainly Jack Nicholson as The Joker is the inevitable casting choice, and since Tim Burton was at the helm, it seemed like a movie that was aiming for the dark overtones of a Miller and/or Kane story. However, the mystery surrounding the Joker and Batman wasn't quite there.
The main issue is that the movie lacks focus, as if the screenwriters had not quite thought the story through and realized what the themes should be. Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns" may be the best Batman story since Bob Kane, and it certainly is a hard act to follow. Unfortunately, much of the movie is kind of a mess when you see it with a more critical eye. And I never quite felt for the characters in the way I did for the first two Superman movies.
Still, if you have never seen this movie, it is definitely worth a viewing. There are definitely some great moments. Kim Basinger as Vicky Vale is outstanding, and her relationship with Batman (and the Joker) is worth the price of admission. (Ever notice how DC comics' leading ladies' names are often alliterations?) And of course, even with a mediocre script, Nicholson as the Joker is a performance not to be missed. He is one of a few actors on the planet that make a sub-par script seem better.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Review of "The Bourne Identity" (2002)
With a new Bourne upon us shortly, and per the request of a family member (Hi, Mom!) here are my two cents on this, the first entry in the now smash-hit espionage series. One quick note: I have not read the book series (shocking, I know) so I have no earthly clue how the film compares.
**Minor Spoilers Ahead!**
The Bourne Identity, based on Robert Ludlum's best-selling novel, tells the story of Jason Bourne, a black-ops agent working off the map for the United States government. When a mission goes awry, Bourne (Matt Damon) is left with a blank memory. As he follows the clues to reclaim his...uh...identity, Bourne runs into trouble with the authorities and teams up with Maria (Franka Potente), a transient young woman in whom he finds his only friend. As the two race around Europe, Bourne slowly rediscovers himself, while his supervisors in the U.S. attempt to track him down.
The premise of this film, admittedly, is tried-and-true: placing the audience in the shoes of a character. A la The Matrix, the protagonist here is completely ignorant. Therefore the world and story of the movie can be unfolded and explained without slowing the pace, because information new to the audience is also new to Bourne. When a second confused character (Maria) is introduced, that factor is doubled, permitting Bourne himself to introduce both parties to his knowledge of the espionage world. This method sucks the viewer into the story and creates a greater attachment than in a standard spy flick.
Adding to the attraction of the film is Matt Damon's everyman appeal. Believe me when I say that James Bond this is not! Damon has never been an action hero, nor does he look a stereotypical beefy action star, along the lines of Schwarzenegger. But in this case the casting is perfect, because Bourne himself is uncomfortable in his own body. Damon nails the part by maintaining a paranoid state of mind with perpetually moving eyes and nervous gestures. The German-born Potente is another casting coup, as her unique appearance is a breath of fresh air, eschewing cookie-cutter American beauty for an earthier, healthier doe-eyed look that is refreshingly effective. With a supporting cast completed by such reliables as Chris Cooper, Clive Owen, and Brian Cox, the movie's acting is scarcely noticeable, which creates a "believable" world of espionage.
That world is a paranoid world, one that director Doug Liman (Swingers), cinematographer Oliver Wood (Die Hard 2), and crew represent on screen very well. Wood utilizes constantly moving, often hand-held, cameras, and the editing team of Saar Kline (The Thin Red Line) & Christopher Rouse (The Italian Job) features jumpy, nervous editing, all of which brilliantly emulate Bourne's fragile yet kinetic mental state.
Speaking of The Italian Job, that's a decent comparison for The Bourne Identity. Although the latter is edgier and more complex, both have a European feel, with Bourne's obviously stemming from the entirely European setting. The old-fashioned yet physically beautiful locations are complemented by a rhythmic soundtrack that never soars but frequently hangs and lingers as the story proceeds.
The Bourne Identity is classified as an action flick, but the action is decidedly different than that in other movies of the same genre. Containing very few special effects or CGI, the action centers on motion and pursuit, endowing the film with a edgier, cat-and-mouse, more physical tone that is highlighted by a stellar car chase. Set in the middle of the movie, the sequence featuring a beat-up MG racing through the streets and alleys of Paris is the best cinematic chase since at least The Rock, if not long before that. The cat-and-mouse concept of the entire film is encapsulated in this quality set piece, which is more than just eye candy, serving also as a key turning point in the plot.
With surprisingly little face-to-face conflict present, scenes like this one must infuse the story with suspense, and that they do very well. While developmental parts are naturally but enjoyably slower, an underlying tension drives the entire story. Because it often spontaneously explodes to life early, that possibility persists throughout, moving it along like a people-mover, at a slow and steady pace that doesn't seem dangerous until something goes wrong.
Bottom Line: Rarely does an action-based movie feature such a compelling story and human characters. Five stars and then some for one of the most underrated and best action movies in recent years.
**Minor Spoilers Ahead!**
The Bourne Identity, based on Robert Ludlum's best-selling novel, tells the story of Jason Bourne, a black-ops agent working off the map for the United States government. When a mission goes awry, Bourne (Matt Damon) is left with a blank memory. As he follows the clues to reclaim his...uh...identity, Bourne runs into trouble with the authorities and teams up with Maria (Franka Potente), a transient young woman in whom he finds his only friend. As the two race around Europe, Bourne slowly rediscovers himself, while his supervisors in the U.S. attempt to track him down.
The premise of this film, admittedly, is tried-and-true: placing the audience in the shoes of a character. A la The Matrix, the protagonist here is completely ignorant. Therefore the world and story of the movie can be unfolded and explained without slowing the pace, because information new to the audience is also new to Bourne. When a second confused character (Maria) is introduced, that factor is doubled, permitting Bourne himself to introduce both parties to his knowledge of the espionage world. This method sucks the viewer into the story and creates a greater attachment than in a standard spy flick.
Adding to the attraction of the film is Matt Damon's everyman appeal. Believe me when I say that James Bond this is not! Damon has never been an action hero, nor does he look a stereotypical beefy action star, along the lines of Schwarzenegger. But in this case the casting is perfect, because Bourne himself is uncomfortable in his own body. Damon nails the part by maintaining a paranoid state of mind with perpetually moving eyes and nervous gestures. The German-born Potente is another casting coup, as her unique appearance is a breath of fresh air, eschewing cookie-cutter American beauty for an earthier, healthier doe-eyed look that is refreshingly effective. With a supporting cast completed by such reliables as Chris Cooper, Clive Owen, and Brian Cox, the movie's acting is scarcely noticeable, which creates a "believable" world of espionage.
That world is a paranoid world, one that director Doug Liman (Swingers), cinematographer Oliver Wood (Die Hard 2), and crew represent on screen very well. Wood utilizes constantly moving, often hand-held, cameras, and the editing team of Saar Kline (The Thin Red Line) & Christopher Rouse (The Italian Job) features jumpy, nervous editing, all of which brilliantly emulate Bourne's fragile yet kinetic mental state.
Speaking of The Italian Job, that's a decent comparison for The Bourne Identity. Although the latter is edgier and more complex, both have a European feel, with Bourne's obviously stemming from the entirely European setting. The old-fashioned yet physically beautiful locations are complemented by a rhythmic soundtrack that never soars but frequently hangs and lingers as the story proceeds.
The Bourne Identity is classified as an action flick, but the action is decidedly different than that in other movies of the same genre. Containing very few special effects or CGI, the action centers on motion and pursuit, endowing the film with a edgier, cat-and-mouse, more physical tone that is highlighted by a stellar car chase. Set in the middle of the movie, the sequence featuring a beat-up MG racing through the streets and alleys of Paris is the best cinematic chase since at least The Rock, if not long before that. The cat-and-mouse concept of the entire film is encapsulated in this quality set piece, which is more than just eye candy, serving also as a key turning point in the plot.
With surprisingly little face-to-face conflict present, scenes like this one must infuse the story with suspense, and that they do very well. While developmental parts are naturally but enjoyably slower, an underlying tension drives the entire story. Because it often spontaneously explodes to life early, that possibility persists throughout, moving it along like a people-mover, at a slow and steady pace that doesn't seem dangerous until something goes wrong.
Bottom Line: Rarely does an action-based movie feature such a compelling story and human characters. Five stars and then some for one of the most underrated and best action movies in recent years.
Review of "Piranhaconda" (2012)
"It's the offspring of an unholy union between a piranha and an anaconda."
"...You mean a piranhaconda?"
"...I can't believe you just said that!"
I can't believe I just watched that.
Actually, it's not that bad. In fact, Piranhaconda gives you exactly what you'd expect from a Sy Fy Channel Original Movie produced by Roger Corman. Nothing more, nothing less. Notice, however, that I said "expect." "Expect" doesn't necessarily mean "Want."
Michael Madsen plays a herpetologist who finds a mythical giant snake in Hawaii. When he steals one of the beast's eggs, he incurs the wrath of the killer Piranhaconda. Madsen gets captured by a bunch of money-grubbing kidnappers who also have set their sights on holding a low-budget movie crew for ransom. Of course, the huge monster messes up their plans.
I have to give at least some credit where it's due: compared to most Sy Fy Channel Original Movies, this movie is a step (a slither?) above the rest. Again, this isn't Shakespeare but for the most part it delivers the gory goods. The titular antagonist is certainly something to see. Sadly, but not shockingly, the same cannot be said of Madsen. He is clearly just picking up a paycheck here and he remains ostensibly bored throughout the picture.
"...You mean a piranhaconda?"
"...I can't believe you just said that!"
I can't believe I just watched that.
Actually, it's not that bad. In fact, Piranhaconda gives you exactly what you'd expect from a Sy Fy Channel Original Movie produced by Roger Corman. Nothing more, nothing less. Notice, however, that I said "expect." "Expect" doesn't necessarily mean "Want."
Michael Madsen plays a herpetologist who finds a mythical giant snake in Hawaii. When he steals one of the beast's eggs, he incurs the wrath of the killer Piranhaconda. Madsen gets captured by a bunch of money-grubbing kidnappers who also have set their sights on holding a low-budget movie crew for ransom. Of course, the huge monster messes up their plans.
I have to give at least some credit where it's due: compared to most Sy Fy Channel Original Movies, this movie is a step (a slither?) above the rest. Again, this isn't Shakespeare but for the most part it delivers the gory goods. The titular antagonist is certainly something to see. Sadly, but not shockingly, the same cannot be said of Madsen. He is clearly just picking up a paycheck here and he remains ostensibly bored throughout the picture.
Visually, it doesn't look too bad. With SyFy, you would expect hackneyed editing, scenery that doesn't give a sense of authenticity, dull lighting and awkward camera angles. In regard to those assets though, Piranhaconda is generally one of their better-looking movies. The editing and camera work is mostly focused and the scenery is striking. You'd also anticipate laughably awful special effects. On the other hand, the Piranhaconda looks alright, there are a few moments where it does look fake, but overall it delivers what the film promised(part-snake, part-fish, all killer), it does look menacing and the movements are less choppy than other SyFy creatures, in fact I was impressed at the amazing speed it moved at. My problem with the Piranhaconda wasn't to do with the design this time. It was to do with how it was developed, you don't find out much about its origin and how it came to be in the jungle.
My bottom line: if you're looking for high art you're obviously in the wrong place, but this movie does offer some good moments. Good moments, however, doesn't stop its steam from running out before the final commercial break.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Review of "Toy Story" (1995)
Y'know, I always suspected that my toys were coming to life when I wasn't looking!
In Andy's Room, his toys lead lives of noisy desperation come every birthday and Christmas - no one wants to be one-upped by a new addition to the toy box. Nominally led by Cowboy Woody, Mr. Potato Head, Rex the Dinosaur, Ham the piggy bank, Bo Peep, Slinky the dog and a smattering of other playthings go about their toy business of playing checkers, hanging with the home toys and "plastic corrosion awareness meetings," until Andy's birthday party, when they gather expectantly around a transistor radio, listening to the reports of their toy soldier troops "in the field" (downstairs watching Andy's gift-opening), hoping that no gift will be exciting enough to cause Andy to neglect *them.* There is. His name is Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger.
Directed by Pixar mainstay John Lasseter, with the voice talents of Tom Hanks (as Woody), Don Rickles, John Ratzenberger (forever Cliff from *Cheers*), R. Lee Ermey, Annie Potts, Jim Varney and Tim Allen (as Buzz), Toy Story is that diamond in the rough that succeeds on all levels – in its animation, storyline, character development, its messages of friendship and self-realization and, most importantly, its entertainment value. The fact that this is an animated feature is incidental.
Up until this movie broke open the visual toy box, from the early 1980's until the release of this film the "Disney Movie" had become synonymous with maudlin messages, redneck fundamentalism, anachronistic family values, boneheaded parents, smart-mouthing youngsters, too-hip-to-be-smart teens and insufferable pets. Though Disney's tyrannical umbrella overarches this film's production studio, Pixar Animation, Toy Story somehow avoids all trace of the three-fingered white glove of The Mouse, which is doubly surprising considering this is Pixar's first feature length film, after years of experimentation.
Sure, there are "messages," but they are heartfelt, rather than maudlin (Woody tells Buzz during Buzz's greatest depression that it matters not what Buzz thinks of himself, what makes him important is what his owner, Andy, thinks of him); there are emotional segments, which are truly heartbreaking, rather than cheesy (when Buzz's escape attempt lands him with a broken arm, proving he is Not A Flying Toy, the lyric, "Clearly I will go sailing no more," launches a thousand hankies); and the portrayal of Andy's family was Pixar's triumphal achievement. Boldly contravening Disney's mainstay at the time of the 1950's nuclear family and Norman Rockwell fantasies, one of the many incarnations of a modern-day family is presented: a single mother with two children, who are neither geniuses nor monsters, just normal children; happy to visit Pizza Planet and disappointed when favorite toys are lost.
Buzz – who believes he is a real life space ranger on a mission to save the universe - become Andy's favorite toy over Woody. The funny thing is: though Buzz believes he is real, he still adheres to toy protocol of "playing inert" when humans are in the area. (Maybe it's instinct?) When he mentions saving a toy from Sid, the vicious boy next door, how does he propose to do it if he is to adhere to the inert protocol? Buzz's ingenuousness regarding his role as a toy infuriates Woody to the point of attempted toy-assassination. Through an eerily similar set of accidents, both he and Buzz become lost and must use teamwork, trust and ingenuity to beat their path back to Andy, which finds them ensconced in scorchingly funny vignettes (Buzz fastening himself in an over-sized seatbelt; both falling in with green, three-eyed aliens; Buzz hyperventilating as "Mrs. Nesbitt"). During a climactic rocket ride, the callback line, "This is not flying - this is falling with style," simply seals this movie's greatness.
At least I now have a plausible explanation as to why my toys always got lost: after going about their toy business, they would just go inert anywhere they happened to be, instead of paying attention to their master's infallible toy filing system….
In Andy's Room, his toys lead lives of noisy desperation come every birthday and Christmas - no one wants to be one-upped by a new addition to the toy box. Nominally led by Cowboy Woody, Mr. Potato Head, Rex the Dinosaur, Ham the piggy bank, Bo Peep, Slinky the dog and a smattering of other playthings go about their toy business of playing checkers, hanging with the home toys and "plastic corrosion awareness meetings," until Andy's birthday party, when they gather expectantly around a transistor radio, listening to the reports of their toy soldier troops "in the field" (downstairs watching Andy's gift-opening), hoping that no gift will be exciting enough to cause Andy to neglect *them.* There is. His name is Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger.
Directed by Pixar mainstay John Lasseter, with the voice talents of Tom Hanks (as Woody), Don Rickles, John Ratzenberger (forever Cliff from *Cheers*), R. Lee Ermey, Annie Potts, Jim Varney and Tim Allen (as Buzz), Toy Story is that diamond in the rough that succeeds on all levels – in its animation, storyline, character development, its messages of friendship and self-realization and, most importantly, its entertainment value. The fact that this is an animated feature is incidental.
Up until this movie broke open the visual toy box, from the early 1980's until the release of this film the "Disney Movie" had become synonymous with maudlin messages, redneck fundamentalism, anachronistic family values, boneheaded parents, smart-mouthing youngsters, too-hip-to-be-smart teens and insufferable pets. Though Disney's tyrannical umbrella overarches this film's production studio, Pixar Animation, Toy Story somehow avoids all trace of the three-fingered white glove of The Mouse, which is doubly surprising considering this is Pixar's first feature length film, after years of experimentation.
Sure, there are "messages," but they are heartfelt, rather than maudlin (Woody tells Buzz during Buzz's greatest depression that it matters not what Buzz thinks of himself, what makes him important is what his owner, Andy, thinks of him); there are emotional segments, which are truly heartbreaking, rather than cheesy (when Buzz's escape attempt lands him with a broken arm, proving he is Not A Flying Toy, the lyric, "Clearly I will go sailing no more," launches a thousand hankies); and the portrayal of Andy's family was Pixar's triumphal achievement. Boldly contravening Disney's mainstay at the time of the 1950's nuclear family and Norman Rockwell fantasies, one of the many incarnations of a modern-day family is presented: a single mother with two children, who are neither geniuses nor monsters, just normal children; happy to visit Pizza Planet and disappointed when favorite toys are lost.
Buzz – who believes he is a real life space ranger on a mission to save the universe - become Andy's favorite toy over Woody. The funny thing is: though Buzz believes he is real, he still adheres to toy protocol of "playing inert" when humans are in the area. (Maybe it's instinct?) When he mentions saving a toy from Sid, the vicious boy next door, how does he propose to do it if he is to adhere to the inert protocol? Buzz's ingenuousness regarding his role as a toy infuriates Woody to the point of attempted toy-assassination. Through an eerily similar set of accidents, both he and Buzz become lost and must use teamwork, trust and ingenuity to beat their path back to Andy, which finds them ensconced in scorchingly funny vignettes (Buzz fastening himself in an over-sized seatbelt; both falling in with green, three-eyed aliens; Buzz hyperventilating as "Mrs. Nesbitt"). During a climactic rocket ride, the callback line, "This is not flying - this is falling with style," simply seals this movie's greatness.
At least I now have a plausible explanation as to why my toys always got lost: after going about their toy business, they would just go inert anywhere they happened to be, instead of paying attention to their master's infallible toy filing system….
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Review of "Finding Nemo" (2003)
(Though I plan on reviewing Pixar's works in chronological order, this will be my one exception, per a request from a long-time college friend)
The digital realm is easily forgotten when you first lock eyes on the visual wonder created for yet another charming tale from Disney/Pixar Animation. Finding Nemo is Pixar's fifth outing and after a moderately spotless track record they keep this one swimming in a wealth of color and three-dimensional form. Their visual language has proven to be a clear and successful method of storytelling. It captures the imagination and accommodates some fairly decent stories to boot. What setting could be more exciting than Australia's exotic eastern coastline?
However, it's a mix of Pixar's wonderful craft and a well-written story that keeps audiences enthralled, and this time writer/director Andrew Stanton serves up just that, on a silver platter. What remains is the winning formula of comedy and gravity within the screenplay. Stanton has been involved with all the other Pixar features in the past, and it shows. Even deep under the ocean, far removed from the human subtleties that are woven into usual animations, is a rich tapestry of lifelike environments and genuine characters that are easy to connect and relate to. And in the usual Pixar tradition you get a film that bridges the age boundary and becomes wholly enjoyed by all, young and old.
I enjoyed myself for the entire duration of Finding Nemo (that included the final credits). I recommend it to all, no matter what your cinematic preference may be. Besides the lavish visual elements that have made Pixar much admired, this has been a labor of love for Andrew Stanton that started way back in 1992, prior to Toy Story. It's a new development in the path the entire production house is heading. Thomas Newman's involvement in writing music for this project shows us exactly this new direction as his score gives the film a new emotional style. It's also a "new high water mark" for CGI in general. Pixar is now an established force in animation but politely recognizes others in the industry as well. For example, there is the address (amongst other things) Wallaby Way that will be instantly recognizable to Wallace and Gromit fans and a totally tubular Sea Turtle (Crush, voiced by Stanton himself) with a very close resemblance to four post-adolescent martial art amphibian friends of his. There are also plenty of fun references to Jaws, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Monty Python and nearly every previous (and upcoming) Pixar feature. You also have Pixar's own Joe Ranft, who made famous the character of Heimlich the caterpillar from A Bug's Life, making another special appearance as the voice of Jacques the cleaner shrimp. Younger children won't get these in-jokes but for the adults it's a warm welcome. When it comes down to it Finding Nemo is aimed at just about anyone, as long as they enjoy a well-told and inventive story. From the vibrantly lush to the murky dark, this is an absolute lure for the eyes and a catch-of-the-day for the funnybone.
The digital realm is easily forgotten when you first lock eyes on the visual wonder created for yet another charming tale from Disney/Pixar Animation. Finding Nemo is Pixar's fifth outing and after a moderately spotless track record they keep this one swimming in a wealth of color and three-dimensional form. Their visual language has proven to be a clear and successful method of storytelling. It captures the imagination and accommodates some fairly decent stories to boot. What setting could be more exciting than Australia's exotic eastern coastline?
However, it's a mix of Pixar's wonderful craft and a well-written story that keeps audiences enthralled, and this time writer/director Andrew Stanton serves up just that, on a silver platter. What remains is the winning formula of comedy and gravity within the screenplay. Stanton has been involved with all the other Pixar features in the past, and it shows. Even deep under the ocean, far removed from the human subtleties that are woven into usual animations, is a rich tapestry of lifelike environments and genuine characters that are easy to connect and relate to. And in the usual Pixar tradition you get a film that bridges the age boundary and becomes wholly enjoyed by all, young and old.
I enjoyed myself for the entire duration of Finding Nemo (that included the final credits). I recommend it to all, no matter what your cinematic preference may be. Besides the lavish visual elements that have made Pixar much admired, this has been a labor of love for Andrew Stanton that started way back in 1992, prior to Toy Story. It's a new development in the path the entire production house is heading. Thomas Newman's involvement in writing music for this project shows us exactly this new direction as his score gives the film a new emotional style. It's also a "new high water mark" for CGI in general. Pixar is now an established force in animation but politely recognizes others in the industry as well. For example, there is the address (amongst other things) Wallaby Way that will be instantly recognizable to Wallace and Gromit fans and a totally tubular Sea Turtle (Crush, voiced by Stanton himself) with a very close resemblance to four post-adolescent martial art amphibian friends of his. There are also plenty of fun references to Jaws, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Monty Python and nearly every previous (and upcoming) Pixar feature. You also have Pixar's own Joe Ranft, who made famous the character of Heimlich the caterpillar from A Bug's Life, making another special appearance as the voice of Jacques the cleaner shrimp. Younger children won't get these in-jokes but for the adults it's a warm welcome. When it comes down to it Finding Nemo is aimed at just about anyone, as long as they enjoy a well-told and inventive story. From the vibrantly lush to the murky dark, this is an absolute lure for the eyes and a catch-of-the-day for the funnybone.
Review of "Beauty and the Beast" (1991)
Next up in my Disney sub-series is another of the Mouse's most well-known animated films, Beauty and the Beast.
Indeed, it's a tale as old as time, with a complex message that is as ageless as it is universal; but beneath all the layers it can be summed up very simply: love one another, and refrain from judging others who `seem' to be `different.' And leave it to Disney to present it in such a way that it can be embraced and understood by young and old alike as they have here, in one of their best animated features ever, directed by Gary Trousdale. When a young Prince fails the test of an enchantress disguised as an old hag, she transforms him into a hideous beast, as he is destined to remain until he opens his heart and learns how to love and be loved in return. And so that he'll know where he stands as time goes by, she gives him an enchanted rose, which will bloom until his twenty-first birthday, and he has only until the last petal falls from the flower to effect the change within himself that will be his salvation.
The beast, however, seems doomed, as he shuts himself away, alone in his castle, taking up a reclusive existence far from everyone and everything. Until, one day, a beautiful young woman named Belle shows up at his doorstep. Belle is searching for her inventor father, Maurice, who disappeared while taking one of his latest inventions to the fair; and his trail leads Belle to the castle of the Beast, where she discovers he is being held prisoner, having run afoul of the Beast by trespassing while lost during the night of his journey. Repulsed by the appearance of the Beast, Belle nevertheless strikes a bargain with him: If he will release her father, she will stay in his place. The Beast agrees, with the stipulation that she must remain with him forever. And as the Beast casts Belle's father from the castle and sends him on his way, Belle's fate seems sealed. The only hope now for either Belle or the Beast lies in the remote possibility that true love may somehow prevail before the last petal of the enchanted rose falls.
With the help of a richly textured screenplay (by Linda Woolverton) that invests the characters with a depth of humanity that is often lacking even in `non' animated films, and an Oscar winning score by Alan Menken, director Trousdale provides some real insights into human nature in this retelling of the familiar story of how true love can change even the darkest and coldest of hearts. There's magic in this film, which holds an enchantment of it's own, and the message is presented ever so subtly and with a sensitivity that draws you in gradually until you are so caught up in the story that you become immersed and totally involved without being consciously aware of it. It's a film that enfolds you and takes you where it will, and you go willingly. A beautifully rendered and realized film that successfully transcends it's genre, it is the first animated feature ever to be recognized and rewarded with an Oscar nomination for Best Movie (quite a feat in itself, as it received the nod over such films as The Fisher King, Fried Green Tomatoes, Thelma and Louise and John Singleton's Boyz N the Hood that year).
The talented cast supplying the voices of the characters includes Paige O'Hara (Belle), Robby Benson (The Beast), Richard White (Gaston), Jerry Orbach (Lumiere), David Ogden Stiers (Cogsworth), Angela Lansbury (Mrs. Potts), Bradley Pierce (Chip), Rex Everhart (Maurice), Jesse Corti (LeFou), Hal Smith (Phillipe), Jo Ann Worley (Wardrobe), Brian Cummings (Stove), Alvin Epstein (Bookseller) and Kimmy Robertson (Featherduster). There's a scene in this film that is so entrancing and so emotionally involving that it stands up against the best from any drama ever made: As Angela Lansbury (as Mrs. Potts) sings the Oscar winning title song, Belle begins to perceive the true nature of the man within the Beast; and it's no longer the cold-hearted Prince upon whom the enchantress cast her spell, because he has changed. As they come together and the Beast takes Belle in his arms, sweeping her in dance across the elegant ballroom floor, it becomes one of those rare cinematic `moments' that are entirely transporting, and it does, indeed, take you away. It's a memorable scene that exemplifies the quality and craftsmanship of this film, as does the scene in which the Beast is at last transformed; that such emotion can be captured and expressed in an animated film is an exemplary accomplishment, and it's all a part of why Beauty and the Beast is one of Disney's all-time greatest films.
One final note: Stay for the credits to hear Alan Menken and Howard Ashman's title song once again, this time performed by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. Hypnotically beautiful, this version has a magic all it's own and makes the perfect ending to an enchanting experience. It's all a part of the magic of the movies.
Indeed, it's a tale as old as time, with a complex message that is as ageless as it is universal; but beneath all the layers it can be summed up very simply: love one another, and refrain from judging others who `seem' to be `different.' And leave it to Disney to present it in such a way that it can be embraced and understood by young and old alike as they have here, in one of their best animated features ever, directed by Gary Trousdale. When a young Prince fails the test of an enchantress disguised as an old hag, she transforms him into a hideous beast, as he is destined to remain until he opens his heart and learns how to love and be loved in return. And so that he'll know where he stands as time goes by, she gives him an enchanted rose, which will bloom until his twenty-first birthday, and he has only until the last petal falls from the flower to effect the change within himself that will be his salvation.
The beast, however, seems doomed, as he shuts himself away, alone in his castle, taking up a reclusive existence far from everyone and everything. Until, one day, a beautiful young woman named Belle shows up at his doorstep. Belle is searching for her inventor father, Maurice, who disappeared while taking one of his latest inventions to the fair; and his trail leads Belle to the castle of the Beast, where she discovers he is being held prisoner, having run afoul of the Beast by trespassing while lost during the night of his journey. Repulsed by the appearance of the Beast, Belle nevertheless strikes a bargain with him: If he will release her father, she will stay in his place. The Beast agrees, with the stipulation that she must remain with him forever. And as the Beast casts Belle's father from the castle and sends him on his way, Belle's fate seems sealed. The only hope now for either Belle or the Beast lies in the remote possibility that true love may somehow prevail before the last petal of the enchanted rose falls.
With the help of a richly textured screenplay (by Linda Woolverton) that invests the characters with a depth of humanity that is often lacking even in `non' animated films, and an Oscar winning score by Alan Menken, director Trousdale provides some real insights into human nature in this retelling of the familiar story of how true love can change even the darkest and coldest of hearts. There's magic in this film, which holds an enchantment of it's own, and the message is presented ever so subtly and with a sensitivity that draws you in gradually until you are so caught up in the story that you become immersed and totally involved without being consciously aware of it. It's a film that enfolds you and takes you where it will, and you go willingly. A beautifully rendered and realized film that successfully transcends it's genre, it is the first animated feature ever to be recognized and rewarded with an Oscar nomination for Best Movie (quite a feat in itself, as it received the nod over such films as The Fisher King, Fried Green Tomatoes, Thelma and Louise and John Singleton's Boyz N the Hood that year).
The talented cast supplying the voices of the characters includes Paige O'Hara (Belle), Robby Benson (The Beast), Richard White (Gaston), Jerry Orbach (Lumiere), David Ogden Stiers (Cogsworth), Angela Lansbury (Mrs. Potts), Bradley Pierce (Chip), Rex Everhart (Maurice), Jesse Corti (LeFou), Hal Smith (Phillipe), Jo Ann Worley (Wardrobe), Brian Cummings (Stove), Alvin Epstein (Bookseller) and Kimmy Robertson (Featherduster). There's a scene in this film that is so entrancing and so emotionally involving that it stands up against the best from any drama ever made: As Angela Lansbury (as Mrs. Potts) sings the Oscar winning title song, Belle begins to perceive the true nature of the man within the Beast; and it's no longer the cold-hearted Prince upon whom the enchantress cast her spell, because he has changed. As they come together and the Beast takes Belle in his arms, sweeping her in dance across the elegant ballroom floor, it becomes one of those rare cinematic `moments' that are entirely transporting, and it does, indeed, take you away. It's a memorable scene that exemplifies the quality and craftsmanship of this film, as does the scene in which the Beast is at last transformed; that such emotion can be captured and expressed in an animated film is an exemplary accomplishment, and it's all a part of why Beauty and the Beast is one of Disney's all-time greatest films.
One final note: Stay for the credits to hear Alan Menken and Howard Ashman's title song once again, this time performed by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. Hypnotically beautiful, this version has a magic all it's own and makes the perfect ending to an enchanting experience. It's all a part of the magic of the movies.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Review of "The Great Mouse Detective" (1986)
By no means does The Great Mouse Detective (also known to many as The Adventures of the Great Mouse Detective) rank among the greatest Disney films. Its animation is mostly "Saturday Morning" level and its plot is as simplistic as a Sherlock Holmes knockoff story can get, complete with plot-driven, expository script and pretty typical archetypes throughout. Yet, it has something that has been missing in Disney movies for years: likability. It's lightweight, well crafted fun, like all the best Saturday morning cartoons, with inventive set pieces and terrific voice acting that helps make up for the fact that the losses incurred on The Black Cauldron show quite clearly. Unfortunately, it was shoveled under the hype over Don Bluth's An American Tail, a film that I have a bit of a soft spot for, but which I'm not sure was that much better despite more involved animation. Of course it's no masterpiece, but it does deserve some appreciation for its virtues.
The plot's rather simple, and a bit too dialogue driven. Basically, you can figure out what happens before you even see it. What makes it work are the personalities. True, Olivia's a bit cloying, but Basil himself is as manic and fun to watch as any good Holmes knockoff, due in no small part to Barrie Ingham's performance. However, the show stealer, like with many Disney films, is the villain, Professor Ratigan as brilliantly voiced by the great Vincent Price, who stated just before he passed away that out of everything he'd ever accomplished, voicing Ratigan was his favorite role. What I love about his character is that he comes off a narcissistic buffoon most of the time, but when pushed he shows himself to be a ruthless maniac able to wring whatever he wants from people by sheer force. In many ways, he's the villain that Captain Hook should have been. He even gets one of the only song numbers in this movie, one of the finest villain numbers in its jaunty bombast and how it shifts to a dead stop when a henchman double crosses him then shifts back after a rather grim moment in the film.
Unfortunately, one wishes the animation was better than Toon Disney on a production level. There's lots of conservative pose-to-pose stuff and very little in the ways of spontaneous character stuff. The angles are all very flat and straightforward. It especially shows in the dog character Toby, who is much larger than the others but has too lightweight a feel to him. It's still a better looking film than The Black Cauldron, however less lavish it may be, and it has a few highlights. Ratigan, again, is superbly animated by Glen Keane, who gives him much more nuance and presence than the other characters. There's also a steep improvement toward the end, where Disney really ratchets up on some terrific set-piece direction. The CGI may show its age, but it's incorporated quite well. One also suspects that Disney first started to look at Hayao Miyazaki's work around this time, since there are more than a few similarities to the climax of Castle of Cagliostro.
All in all, these elements, along with a great Henry Mancini score, add up to another overlooked gem of a Disney movie, if not an essential work. It's light nature makes it understandable that some people tend not to care for it, but I enjoy it like I do any decent childhood cartoon. For me, it's the best Disney picture between the end of the Golden Age in the 60s and the Renaissance at the end of the 80s, despite not being especially ambitious or innovative. It's just good fun, and what more can one ask for?
As I did with Aladdin, here are some trivia tid-bits:
--The clock tower scene is the first major use of computer animation (the clock's gears) in a feature-length animated film. The same scene was also the first time traditionally animated characters were put inside a computer-generated background.
--Look quickly: When Basil is looking for a map inside his apartment, he unrolls one and glances at it VERY briefly. It looks like a cliched treasure map, but one of the locations reads: "Downtown Burbank."
The plot's rather simple, and a bit too dialogue driven. Basically, you can figure out what happens before you even see it. What makes it work are the personalities. True, Olivia's a bit cloying, but Basil himself is as manic and fun to watch as any good Holmes knockoff, due in no small part to Barrie Ingham's performance. However, the show stealer, like with many Disney films, is the villain, Professor Ratigan as brilliantly voiced by the great Vincent Price, who stated just before he passed away that out of everything he'd ever accomplished, voicing Ratigan was his favorite role. What I love about his character is that he comes off a narcissistic buffoon most of the time, but when pushed he shows himself to be a ruthless maniac able to wring whatever he wants from people by sheer force. In many ways, he's the villain that Captain Hook should have been. He even gets one of the only song numbers in this movie, one of the finest villain numbers in its jaunty bombast and how it shifts to a dead stop when a henchman double crosses him then shifts back after a rather grim moment in the film.
Unfortunately, one wishes the animation was better than Toon Disney on a production level. There's lots of conservative pose-to-pose stuff and very little in the ways of spontaneous character stuff. The angles are all very flat and straightforward. It especially shows in the dog character Toby, who is much larger than the others but has too lightweight a feel to him. It's still a better looking film than The Black Cauldron, however less lavish it may be, and it has a few highlights. Ratigan, again, is superbly animated by Glen Keane, who gives him much more nuance and presence than the other characters. There's also a steep improvement toward the end, where Disney really ratchets up on some terrific set-piece direction. The CGI may show its age, but it's incorporated quite well. One also suspects that Disney first started to look at Hayao Miyazaki's work around this time, since there are more than a few similarities to the climax of Castle of Cagliostro.
All in all, these elements, along with a great Henry Mancini score, add up to another overlooked gem of a Disney movie, if not an essential work. It's light nature makes it understandable that some people tend not to care for it, but I enjoy it like I do any decent childhood cartoon. For me, it's the best Disney picture between the end of the Golden Age in the 60s and the Renaissance at the end of the 80s, despite not being especially ambitious or innovative. It's just good fun, and what more can one ask for?
As I did with Aladdin, here are some trivia tid-bits:
--The clock tower scene is the first major use of computer animation (the clock's gears) in a feature-length animated film. The same scene was also the first time traditionally animated characters were put inside a computer-generated background.
--Look quickly: When Basil is looking for a map inside his apartment, he unrolls one and glances at it VERY briefly. It looks like a cliched treasure map, but one of the locations reads: "Downtown Burbank."
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