Encanto (2021)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Disney, Family, Fantasy, Musical

If I had a sister,
I would resist her.

If I had a brother,
“Why?” I’d ask Mother.

But since I do not,
I alone call the shots.

This child is only,
Perhaps a bit lonely.

It might have been nice
To have brothers’ advice.

I’d be a good sport
For a sister’s support.

Perhaps I’d not mind
That our lives intertwined.

To have more relations…
That’s just more frustrations!

If I had had brothers,
They’d deny me my druthers.

If I had a sister,
I’d cease and desist her.

I’d hate him, refund her…
And yet, I still wonder.
_______________________

MPA rating:  PG

It’s always nice or at least assuring when you can watch a movie and know exactly how you feel about it by the end. Whether you loved everything about it or found it a waste of time or just have that all-too-common meh reaction, at least you know your own opinion. But what about the gray space where you’re torn between a film’s merits and its problems, never sure which outweighs the other to turn the thumb up or down. Encanto is just such a film for me, a Disney animation that is equal parts marvel and mess but ultimately left me glad to know that a flawed film can still be a good one.

Set in Colombia seemingly in the early 1900s, Encanto focuses on the amazing Madrigal family, whose matriarch/Abuela (María Cecilia Botero) founded the town decades before with the aid of a magical candle that granted her a sentient house to live in and later supernatural abilities to her children and grandchildren. For every child growing up, a ceremony imparts a magical “gift” for their and the town’s benefit, but young Mirabel (Stephanie Beatriz) was spurned and left feeling anything but special. A few years later, when the candle’s magic seems to be dying, she decides to prove her worth by saving her family’s miracle.

There’s a lot going on with Encanto and its large cast, and, like Eternals, I’ve seen some suggest that it would have been better suited for a miniseries instead of a film to help flesh out the characters. Yet the film is a wonder at fast-paced characterization, in large part due to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s outstanding soundtrack of original songs. More than any other Disney film since Tangled, the songs are deeply integrated into the storyline, with musical numbers introducing and resolving entire subplots while making the exposition catchy and fun. Miranda’s Latin-inspired beats and trademark rapid-fire rhymes are first-rate Disney tunes, as evidenced by how often I’ve replayed them, especially “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” and the surprisingly deep and relatable “Surface Pressure.”

Among the film’s other strengths are its vibrant animation that turns the often poorly depicted nation of Colombia into a land of bright colors and magic, as well as a diverse Hispanic cast that includes the first Disney musical protagonist to wear glasses. So with all these pros, what’s so wrong with the film that it left me initially torn? Well, what’s left? The plot. Encanto has a good story and themes about suppressed familial trauma, the pressure of expectations, and the ripples caused by violence and displacement, which I’ve seen struck a chord with people of Latin American descent but are universal enough to be appreciated by folks like me as well, who may not have a large, close-knit family unit.

Oddly enough for Disney, the magic is where it stumbles. Little to no clear explanation is given for basically anything magical that happens, like how the candle became magical, why Mirabel was excluded, why the magic began to fade, or why the prophetic visions of Mirabel’s uncle Bruno (John Leguizamo) become vague and hard to interpret when he foresees the events of the film. This has resulted in an abundance of headcanons and theories about the film’s open-ended elements (“maybe Mirabel’s gift is her connection to the house”, “maybe she’s meant to be the successor to Abuela, who also lacks superpowers”, etc.), which are honestly fascinating, but I would have preferred that the film itself actually answer some of these questions. (One theory I liked was that, at her door ceremony, Mirabel touched the candle and then wiped her hands on her dress before touching the doorknob, perhaps transferring the magic to herself. It’s a good theory, but the film doesn’t bring any attention to it to indicate that was the filmmakers’ intent.) I realize this lack of explanation supposedly ties into the Colombian literary genre of “magical realism” where fantastical elements are often left unexplained, but these are aspects inherent to the plot.

Ultimately, the film simply wants the audience to “go with it” and accept what it presents without overthinking, and doing so certainly helped my enjoyment on a second viewing. Many of the family members’ gifts reflect their personality and character, such as Mirabel’s sister Luisa using her super-strength to bear every family burden or their mother being able to heal injuries with her meals (mom-cooked meals have definitely helped me feel better before). So on some level, the magic could be viewed as a giant metaphor for the roles and talents of any large family, but without more explanation, it’s something of a mixed metaphor. Yet it still clearly speaks effectively to the pressures on older siblings and feelings of inadequacy in younger ones.

While I wrestled with it for a while, I eventually decided that Encanto’s strengths outweigh its weaknesses. Some naysayers have pointed out its flaws and extended them to the good parts to make the film seem like a total catastrophe, which it’s not. It’s almost surprising that Disney would be behind a comparatively small-scale, introspective feature like this, boasting largely unknown voice actors and the rarity of a large and intact family, albeit one with issues. (Some friends of mine said they ought to do a follow-up short featuring the whole cast going through a therapy session.) For both entertainment and plot progression, it relies on Miranda’s music to do much of the heavy lifting, but the songs are up to the task, and there are so many cultural details and fast-moving gags amid the gorgeous animation that it’s well worth repeat viewing. Encanto is far from perfect, but, as Mirabel’s sister Isabela finds, perfection does not define one’s worth.

Best line: (Mirabel, to Abuela) “We are a family because of you, and nothing could ever be broken that we can’t fix together.”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2022 S.G. Liput
751 Followers and Counting

2021 Blindspot Pick #10: The Anthem of the Heart (2015)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Romance

If pens are mightier than swords,
Then speaking what they write is too.
And words no pen or page records
Can leave impressions deep and true
While those who spoke them have no clue.

Invisible, words plant their seeds,
Perhaps to not mature for years.
The flowers can be choked by weeds,
From tactless slurs to whispered fears
That did not settle on deaf ears.

We cannot know their full result
And may not live to see them grow,
But whether child or adult,
Our words outlive us here below.
Beware the seeds that you bestow.
___________________________

MPA rating:  Not Rated (a safe PG for light innuendo)

I always like to include at least one anime in my Blindspots, and this is one that I had just never gotten around to watching. The Anthem of the Heart has a strong pedigree with scintillating animation from A-1 Pictures and a screenplay from the queen of emotions herself Mari Okada (who would go on to direct the heart-shattering Maquia). It’s a sweet and sad story that ends up being much more of a teenage romance than a fantasy, and there’s something endearing about its simplicity.

When Jun Naruse was a young girl, she caught sight of her father exiting a love hotel with another woman, and he outright blames her when her big mouth leads to her parents’ divorce. Overcome with guilt, she encounters an egg-like prince who offers to curse her and prevent her from ever hurting others with her words. Years later in high school, Naruse is known in her class and neighborhood for never speaking. When a teacher encourages her and three other classmates to collaborate on a community outreach event, they end up putting on a musical, and Naruse learns that the curse does not limit her when she tries singing her feelings, which include a growing crush on one of her new friends.

Like Sunshine on Leith, I feel like this is a film I ought to love more than I did, what with the lovely animation and the plotline of putting on a musical, which includes original lyrics added to familiar tunes like “Greensleeves” and “Over the Rainbow.” There’s a half-hearted effort at planting doubt as to whether Naruse’s condition is truly fantastical or simply a psychosomatic result of her childhood guilt, and the result is underwhelming albeit more realistic. Likewise, the love triangle/square between Naruse and some of her classmates indulges in dramatic clichés while also trying to buck them in a way that does satisfy but not in the expected way, accentuating the theme that the real world is messier than fairy tales.

Nevertheless, The Anthem of the Heart had its fair share of strong and sincere emotions, with the climax giving me chills the way good musical drama does. Naruse’s concern about words hurting others affects more than just her story, and I liked the way it influences the supporting characters and helps her come out of her shell. The film ends up feeling like a small-scale story worth telling, one that probably would not have gotten as much love and detail put into it outside of the world of anime. It may not be a new favorite of mine, but I certainly hope to see more like it.

Best line: (Naruse) “Don’t tell people to disappear like it’s nothing. Words can hurt people. You can’t ever… You can’t ever take them back! Even if you regret, you can never take them back.”

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2021 S.G. Liput
748 Followers and Counting

The Mitchells vs. the Machines (2021)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Sci-fi

(I almost decided to skip this last day of NaPoWriMo, being late once again, but it’s still April 30 on the West Coast, I suppose. The last prompt of April was for a poem giving directions, so mine is meant to lead to a happy family.)

There are many forks to family,
Where the road splits east and west,
Every one a chance to grow a bond
Or leave it cold and unexpressed.

Will you raise your voice or calm it,
Eye your child or your phone,
Repeat the things they want to hear
Or speak opinions of your own?

Take a left at dream-supporting,
Take a right at honesty,
And the forks will prove a straighter line
Than anyone on earth can see.
_____________________________

MPA rating:  PG

Rarely do I watch a Netflix movie so soon after it is released, but I’ve been eager to see The Mitchells vs the Machines ever since it was known as Connected and supposedly coming out last year as a non-Netflix movie. And I don’t mind it being sold to a streaming giant (thanks again, COVID) since it allowed me to watch a fantastic movie from the comfort of my home. The warm-hearted, hyperkinetic love child of Gravity Falls writers (Mike Rianda, Jeff Rowe, who also directed together), The Lego Movie’s producers (Christopher Lord, Phil Miller), and Into the Spider-Verse’s animation company (Sony Pictures Animation), The Mitchells vs. the Machines is an animated blast making full use of the talents behind it.

On the surface, The Mitchells vs. the Machines could easily have lapsed into one-note laziness, its plot boiling down to “dysfunctional family must deal with robot apocalypse.” On top of that, it really does embrace a ton of cliches, from the stressed father-daughter relationship, to the main character’s “I’m different from everyone else” monologue, to the villain saying “I already have” when they’re told they’ll never get away with it. It’s really a testament to the writing that the film is so consistently hilarious and the characters so well-realized that its strengths completely outshine the apparent weaknesses.

Honestly, this movie made me laugh harder and more often than any other in recent memory, thanks to its sly repeated gags, social commentary, and cultural self-awareness. I have long been a fan of Gravity Falls so it’s about time its writers were given an even bigger budget with which to play. My love for animation was further fed by the wondrous 2D-3D mix that Into the Spider-verse pioneered; it’s not quite as frenetic as that film’s comic book extravagance (which I think is a good thing), though it still includes imaginary, sketch-like flourishes to highlight how the movie-loving Katie Mitchell sees the world. Plus, the soundtrack is awesome, culminating especially in the action climax.

Abbi Jacobson does a fine job as Katie, but Danny McBride as her dad, Maya Rudolph as her mom, and Olivia Colman as the AI taking over the world are pitch-perfect casting. (Rudolph’s Linda Mitchell also gets the greatest mother beast mode scene in film history.) And as I said, the script is filled with huge heart to go with its constant jokes, stressing the power of familial bonds and subverting the usual trope of only the parent needing to grow to improve the strained relationship. I can’t wait to see The Mitchells vs. the Machines again, and I sincerely hope this creative team can deliver more gems like this one.

Best line: (Katie, after her dad locks the car doors) “Yeah, that’ll keep the robots out.”
(Dad) “Hey, you don’t know. Maybe locks are the robots’ weakness.”
(Mom) “Guys, can’t we all just be terrified together as a family?”

and

(Dr. Mark Bowman, the Steve Jobs-ish creator of the AI) “I’m sorry about causing the whole machine uprising. It’s almost like stealing people’s data and giving it to a hyper-intelligent AI as part of an unregulated tech monopoly was a bad thing.”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2021 S.G. Liput
731 Followers and Counting

Over the Moon (2020)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Musical

(For Day 15 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was to detail a habit picked up from a parent, which brought to mind the mooncake tradition in this film.)

I’d watch her in the kitchen,
Covered in a coat of flour,
Every movement sending clouds to scatter more.
She’d stuff the dough with filling,
Working hour after hour,
Leaving powder-stenciled footprints on the floor.

She taught me how to do it,
Find a rhythm and a cadence,
Every batch a surging wave to tempt the tongue.
She’d tell me ancient stories
Filled with animals and maidens
That thrill me still, though I am not as young.

I stand here in the kitchen,
With a flour layer ghostly
And form them each according to her spec.
They bear the same ingredients
And taste the same… well, mostly,
If only she were here to double-check.
__________________________________

MPA rating:  PG

With China becoming an ever more important market for films, Chinese culture has grown more prominent in the world of animation. Some are products of China itself (Ne Zha, Jiang Ziya), while others are the result of collaborations between Chinese and American studios, such as DreamWorks’ Abominable and last year’s Netflix-produced Over the Moon, both the work of China’s Pearl Studio. As a family musical with flights of fancy and relatable themes, Over the Moon has earned many comparisons with Disney movies, and while I wouldn’t go quite that far, it’s a quality film worthy of its recent Oscar nomination for Best Animated Feature.

While set in modern times, the story has deep roots in Chinese mythology, particularly the legend of Chang’e, the moon goddess who was separated from her lover Houyi when she took two pills of immortality and was flown to the moon with a Jade Rabbit. After learning and loving this legend, young Fei Fei (Cathy Ang) loses her mother early in the film (in true Disney fashion) to illness and is horrified when her father (John Cho) begins dating another woman (Sandra Oh) with a troublemaking son named Chin (Robert G. Chiu). In an effort to prove Chang’e is real for her mother’s sake, Fei Fei builds a rocket to the moon and, with Chin, encounters the moon goddess herself (Phillipa Soo of Hamilton).

While Over the Moon has a lot of the same ingredients as Disney classics (including direction by Disney animator Glen Keane), it doesn’t quite meet that hard-to-reach standard for me, whether because the songs are good but not great or because its tone often comes off as a “kids movie” rather than one for all ages. There’s certainly fun to be had with the eye-popping colors of the lunar city Fei Fei visits, and Soo as Chang’e herself is excellent playing the goddess as a pop star diva. And despite my earlier dig, the film actually has some surprising depth by the end concerning the pain of losing a loved one and how to move on. A poignant scene with a crane seeming to represent Fei Fei’s dead mother brought to mind how my own family takes comfort in the sight of a cardinal for similar reasons.

I guess the biggest problem for western audiences is perhaps not understanding the cultural and mythological basis of Over the Moon, making certain creative choices (giant frogs on the moon?) seem strange and random without context. I would recommend this video as a companion piece to the film; it actually increased my opinion of the movie and its many culturally authentic details that I as an American wouldn’t immediately understand. (For example, Chang’e is still so associated with the moon that China’s lunar landers are named after her, with rovers named after the Jade Rabbit. Plus, I had no idea what a mooncake was before this movie, but now I’m curious to try one.) In some ways, I could compare Over the Moon with The Polar Express as a smile-worthy journey to prove the existence of a mythological figure, but the 2020 film has enough colorful charm and cultural identity to stand on its own.

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2021 S.G. Liput
728 Followers and Counting

Ocean Waves (1993)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Romance

(The prompt for Day 3 of NaPoWriMo was to create a “Personal Universal Deck” of self-descriptive words, so I tried to come up with some word impressions for the characters of a lesser Ghibli film.)

Waves on the beach,
Wisdom to teach,
Woman and leech,
Scorning my speech.

Waves on my mind,
Wicked and kind,
Who she maligned
Is no longer blind.
__________________________

MPA rating:  PG-13 (for thematic material, very little objectionable)

I love so many Studio Ghibli films, but there are a few gaps I’ve been trying to fill, lesser-known works that have slipped through the cracks. Ocean Waves is one of them, an early ‘90s TV film based on a novel that was meant to give the younger animators a chance to show their stuff. It’s one of those subdued high school stories with a melodramatic love triangle that isn’t bad but can’t escape an overall dullness.

Told largely in flashback, the tale follows Taku as a high schooler who learns his friend Yutaka has a crush on a new girl named Rikako, and Taku is soon pulled into her life and drama more than he expected or wanted. My mom initially didn’t like Forrest Gump because of the way Jenny treated Forrest, and Rikako is in a similar mold. She manipulates, lies, uses people, and barely shows any remorse, yet her actions are eventually viewed with fondness. A high school reunion near the end hits some excellent nostalgic poignancy, but the main two characters aren’t exactly typical romance material, to the point that some have said the two male friends have more chemistry than the central “couple.”

Again, Ocean Waves is well-animated and not terrible, but it’s low-tier Ghibli with very little personality of its own and many tropes that have been done much better elsewhere. In fact, my favorite Ghibli film Whisper of the Heart has a lot of the same ingredients (high school love triangle, boy and girl who dislike each other at first) and yet has so much more character and passion to it. Perhaps Ocean Waves was just the warm-up.

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2021 S.G. Liput
722 Followers and Counting

Soul (2020)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Pixar

(The prompt for Day 1 of NaPoWriMo was to write something perspective-challenging based on a surreal jazz music video. I thought that the jazz and a change of perspective would apply well to Pixar’s latest film.)

Would the world appear different behind different eyes?
Before or behind them – which matters the most?
How much of his life can a man criticize
Before it’s reduced by his deep-rooted roast?

I’d hate to have nothing to show for my time,
My effort, my busyness spent every day.
If mountain views aren’t at the end of the climb,
Why struggle and strive to reach only half-way?

If I could fulfill all the hopes I once dreamed,
If I could be him or be her or do that,
Perhaps the time wasted could still be redeemed,
A medal to earn in life’s mortal combat.

How foolish, however, to think that my worth
Depends on a goal that can move as I near it!
How mindless to plan upon riches on earth,
No thought for what nurtures my soul and your spirit.

The climb can be tedious staring ahead,
A rock wall in front and a far distant peak,
But spare a glance round at the background instead
And find where you never considered to seek.
_____________________________

MPA rating:  PG

Thanks to a certain virus and the advent of Disney+, I was thankfully able to watch Pixar’s latest film from the comfort of my couch right at the tail end of 2020, though I would have gladly gone to a theater for it if one had been open. With Pixar’s diminishing creative trend over the last decade, I wasn’t sure where Soul would land among their undeniable classics and good-not-great outings, but I was thrilled to join the general consensus in deeming it the former.

The first Pixar film with an African-American protagonist, Soul follows pianist and middle school music teacher Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) as he manages to earn the jazz gig of his dreams and then promptly die, which isn’t a spoiler strangely enough. Appearing as a blue blob on his way to the Great Beyond, he escapes into an in-between realm where unborn souls are prepared before going to earth. He is paired with an uncooperative soul called 22 (Tina Fey), with whom he questions the meaning of his life and existence.

That last bit may sound overly heavy for a “kids movie,” and indeed Soul doesn’t seem designed for kids, with its middle-aged main character and existential questions of life and death. Director Pete Docter has explored weighty concepts before in Up and Inside Out, but other elements of those films seem clearly geared for a young audience. More than any other Pixar film, Soul seems especially mature, not in content, but in theme, while still retaining a likable sense of humor, and I personally love and admire animated films that can pull off such a tonal balance successfully.

The plot itself stays unpredictable and throws in some thought-provoking concepts without much time to consider all their implications, later utilizing them in surprising ways, much like Inside Out did. The animation is yet more evidence of how Pixar is leaps and bounds ahead of its CGI competition, full of textured backgrounds, hyper-realistic lighting, and amazing fluidity, such as the shifting forms of the charming Picassoesque entities named Jerry in the “Great Before.” And then there’s the music, both snappy instrumental jazz and a gorgeous score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, which is almost a character in itself as Joe’s creative passion.

I can’t say Soul is perfect, since it does have some unaddressed plot holes and oddly stops short of explicitly affirming Joe’s job as a teacher, which I think would have been a nice touch similar to Mr. Holland’s Opus. Nevertheless, Pixar excels in its dramatic gut punches, and Soul absolutely delivers those moments, from relatable reconciliations to noble sacrifice, and succeeds in conveying a life-affirming message that doesn’t come off as trite or recycled. Since it hasn’t happened for a Pixar film in a decade, I was really hoping that Soul would snag a Best Picture nomination, but alas, that didn’t happen (though it was nominated for Best Animated Feature, Score, and Sound). While I would have liked perhaps a more religious view of the afterlife, Soul remains general and accessible enough in its spirituality to appeal to all audiences, and its message of valuing life’s little moments ultimately meant a lot to me.

Best line: (musician Dorothea Williams, to Joe) “I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to this older fish and says, ‘I’m trying to find this thing they call the ocean.’ ‘The ocean?’ says the older fish. ‘That’s what you’re in right now.’ ‘This?’ says the young fish. ‘This is water. What I want is the ocean.’”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2021 S.G. Liput
721 Followers and Counting

2020 Blindspot Pick #4: Pom Poko (1994)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy

Nature weeps “Farewell”
As mankind bids it “Hello.”
Neither understands.
_____________________

Some may look at the fact that I’m only reviewing #4 of my list of 12 Blindspots for the year in October as a sign of being way behind and perhaps despair because of it. I prefer to think, “Wow, I’ll have such a great sprint of good movies around the holidays!” Either way, I’m finally returning to my Blindspot series with Studio Ghibli’s Pom Poko.

I’m very fond of the majority of the studio’s work, including the heartrending Grave of the Fireflies from the same director, but Pom Poko has never gotten much of a spotlight. Even in montages of various Ghibli movies, Pom Poko is pretty much relegated to one notable scene: a comical battle between two warring tribes of tanuki (Japanese raccoon dogs), which happens to be one of the very first scenes in the film. The rest of the movie was a mystery to me, so I was quite curious to see the rest of the story. Now that I have, I can see why it’s counted among the B-list of Ghibli classics, with the studio’s trademark charm and weirdness being overextended by length and repetition.

From the humorous battle scene on, the film often plays like a mythological nature documentary, explaining the many eccentricities of tanuki pulled straight from Japanese legend: their mischievous antics, shapeshifting abilities, penchant for parties, belly drumming, and…um, their prominent testicles. Yeah, more than anything else, that last point is probably why Pom Poko never hit it off in America. Folk tales tell of the many uses tanuki have for their shapeshifting male parts, and the movie runs with that (the English dub using the euphemistic “raccoon pouch”) as they’re shown expanding their “pouches” into parachutes and weapons. Just writing this feels bizarre, but hey, myths can be weird, especially considering raccoon dogs are a real species.

As with many other Ghibli films, the story is an environmentalist fable, detailing the loss of the tanuki’s forest habitat as man and technology encroach further and further. (I find it interesting that the comic strip Over the Hedge debuted just a year after this film with a similar basic premise.) Much of the movie is spent with the creatures attempting to fight back, leading to some highly entertaining sections where they use their supernatural abilities to scare the unsuspecting humans away. However, from the moment they realize mankind’s threat to the point of no return, there are far too many scenes of the leaders debating their strategy, weighing their options, and trying the same things repeatedly. At nearly two hours, I felt like the film could have easily shed a half hour with little loss.

Director Isao Takahata, Miyazaki’s compatriot in heading the studio’s early releases, won my heart with Grave of the Fireflies, but nothing quite compares with that tragic masterpiece. Pom Poko is at least a visual treat, and the character animation swings wildly in depicting the tanuki as realistic animals, anthropomorphic bipeds, or cartoony caricatures, depending on the mood of the scene. The English dub (which Americanizes the tanuki as just “raccoons”) also boasts a talented voice cast, including Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Clancy Brown, Maurice LaMarche, Tress MacNeille, and J.K. Simmons.

Aside from Spirited Away, Pom Poko might be the Ghibli film most wedded to Japanese culture; one extended scene has a master tanuki conjuring a horde of illusory yokai (Japanese spirits) to scare the humans, referencing stories that are no doubt far more familiar to Japanese audiences than Western ones. Plus, despite its cartoonish aspects, its themes and a few story elements are geared for somewhat older audiences compared to the more kid-friendly Ghibli options. Pom Poko is weird, overlong, creative, frequently delightful, wacky, and even bittersweet by the ending. It’s not likely to become a favorite, but I’m glad to have seen another entry from a legendary studio.

Best line: (Narrator, with a line you’ll never find in any other film) “They used their balls as weapons in a brave kamikaze attack.”

Rank:  Honorable Mention

© 2020 S.G. Liput
701 Followers and Counting!

I Lost My Body (2019)

Tags

Animation, Drama, Fantasy, Foreign, Romance

A hand without a body or a man without a hand –
Which would be more piteous or prone to reprimand?
The hand is guiltless, lacking fault; its owner bears the blame
Of entering a situation liable to maim.
The hand is helpless, lacking mind; its owner bears the thought
That they may wish to clap and clasp two hands and yet cannot.
The hand is listless, lacking will; its owner bears the task
Of moving on and living life behind a fragile mask.

The former owner bears so much, yet his lot I’d prefer
Than that poor hand that cannot even know how things once were.
Pity the hand but love the stump and all to it attached.
At bouncing back from tragedy, we humans are unmatched.
____________________________

Rating: TV-MA (should be PG-13)

I take the Best Animated Feature Oscar perhaps more seriously than others do. After superb anime films like Your Name or Maquia have been spurned in recent years, I take notice when the Academy deems other foreign films worthy of the honor of nomination. The seventh French production to earn such a nomination was last year’s I Lost My Body, a strangely poetic meditation on loss that happens to involve a severed hand.

At first, we don’t know how the severed hand came to be, though; the film starts out with the appendage “waking up” in the macabre fridge of a hospital and figuring out how to walk and jump with its fingers, like a more mobile Thing from The Addams Family. Cut then to the past and sullen pizza delivery guy Naoufel (Dev Patel in the quite good English dub), whose childhood of joy and trauma is recounted in flashback throughout the film. In failing to deliver a pizza, he becomes acquainted with a librarian named Gabrielle (Alia Shawkat) and takes up a job as a woodworker to get closer to her. Edited into this more grounded story, Naoufel’s future hand (which is evident from a scar they both have) makes its way across Paris in search of its owner.

It’s hard to call any movie about an animate severed hand anything but strange and morbid, but I Lost My Body treats it as an extended metaphor, which, as I said before, grows surprisingly poetic, heightened by a memorably haunting score. The close calls of the hand’s travels across a dangerous urban landscape provide thrilling visuals, while Naoufel’s struggles offer bittersweet human drama. Naturally, the film’s ultimate lead-up is to how the hand and its owner were separated, which is both cringeworthy and deeply symbolic.As an art film that happens to be animated, I Lost My Body’s main drawback for me is how open-ended it is, not offering much closure beyond what viewers choose to interpret. What does the hand represent? It’s up to you, I suppose. At one point, Naoufel is criticized for not knowing another character is sick and accused of not truly caring; the film never mentions it again, so I guess the film doesn’t care much either. Despite this, I’ve often said that I enjoy animations that can delve into mature themes without wallowing in mature content, and I Lost My Body fits that laudable mold. Amid last year’s nominations, Missing Link was the weak link that should have been replaced last year, preferably with Weathering with You; while imperfect, I Lost My Body is a worthy nominee.

Best line: (Gabrielle) “Once you’ve dribbled past fate, what do you do?”
(Naoufel) “You try to keep away from it. You run blindly… and keep your fingers crossed.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
697 Followers and Counting

 

Frozen II (2019)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Fantasy, Musical

I wish life were more like the movies that end with a swift fade to black,
Where characters make their departures while still in their glory and prime,
Where stories have definite endings and rarely, if ever, come back.
(Unless they accumulate money; then it’s only a matter of time.)

I wonder sometimes where my own life would warrant a “Cut!” and a “Print!”
I’m working my way to a climax, that’s hopefully not when I die.
I wonder if I’m stuck in filler and wish God would give me a hint.
I trust that I’ll know when I see it and hope that it will satisfy.
_______________________

MPA rating: PG

I liked Frozen when it came out in 2013. It’s on my Top 365 movie list. I watched it in the theater and still think “Let It Go” is one of the best movie songs from the last decade. Yet I did put it on my Top Twelve List of Overrated Movies, not because it was bad but because it was overexposed. Disney milked the merchandise so much that it was hard to tell whether the Frozen products ever really went away before the Frozen 2 merch took their place. So it’s easy to believe that Frozen 2 was made solely with profit in mind, but even if that’s the case, it deserves a fair shake and appraisal on its own merits. And I must say I enjoyed this sequel about as much as the first. Like its predecessor, it’s not above criticism, but it’s an enjoyable return to the franchise.

Peace has returned to Arendelle with Elsa (Idina Menzel) as queen, but a strange voice reaches out to her, drawing her to the enchanted forest to the north. And, of course, sister Anna (Kristen Bell), her boyfriend Kristoff (Jonathan Groff), Sven the reindeer, and Olaf the snowman (Josh Gad) are right at her side. The plot of Frozen 2 seems to be the aspect most criticized, and indeed it is rather convoluted with flashbacks, mysteries, and vague explanations that can boil down to a single line of dialogue and thus aren’t answered as clearly as they could have been. Even so, cheap cash-ins don’t usually have this kind of laudable ambition, so I still appreciated how the world and lore of Frozen were expanded, even if its parallels to real-world issues are a bit half-baked. Oh, and did anyone else think the ending is suspiciously similar to Ralph Breaks the Internet? Just sayin’.

But come now, who watched Frozen for the plot? “Let It Go” was clearly the biggest draw, so how does the soundtrack compare? The songs of Frozen 2 may not seem as good at first, but I’ve found they get better with repetition. (Yes, I’ve listened to the soundtrack at work.) “Into the Unknown” is the most “Let It Go”-ish belter for Menzel and the only one nominated for the Best Song Academy Award, and I think it was robbed at the Oscars. But “Show Yourself” has even greater power, especially in the context of the film, while “Some Things Never Change” and “The Next Right Thing” are underappreciated gems, especially the latter for its surprisingly deep and relatable lyrics. The animation at least is one aspect that is clearly on par or better than the original; from the horse spirit made of water to the gorgeous fall foliage, the animation is as lovely as any Disney movie yet. I mean, look at this art!

Frozen 2 may not have been able to replicate the original’s awards, not even being nominated for Best Animated Feature (but neither was Weathering with You, so it’s in good company), but it did become the highest-grossing animated film ever, assuming you don’t count that Lion King remake. I still consider Elsa a bit too lacking in personality, but both films are a welcome return to the classic princess genre that so defined the Disney Renaissance of the ‘90s, with their strong female leads and lovable sidekicks. (Olaf once again gets the funniest scenes.) Plus, as a big fan of Norwegian singer Aurora, I was thrilled that she got such high-profile exposure being featured as “The Voice” in the film and “Into the Unknown,” even if her role is just four notes. Time will tell if Frozen 2 has the same kind of staying power that its predecessor had, but it’s a good way to end Disney Animation’s resurgence in the 2010s. Let’s hope it will continue into the next decade.

Best line: (Olaf; the irony is strong with this one) “Tell me, you’re older, and thus all-knowing; do you ever worry about the notion that nothing is permanent?”   (Anna) “Uh, no.”   (Olaf) “Really? Wow, I can’t wait until I’ve aged just like you, so I don’t have to worry about important things.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy (joining the first Frozen)

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
697 Followers and Counting

How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World (2019)

Tags

Action, Animation, Comedy, Dreamworks, Family, Fantasy

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem praising pets, so I went a bit mythological to extol a dragon as a pet.)

Cats are cute and dogs are dear,
And yet the pet without a peer
Is easily the rarest kind,
The least beloved and most maligned,
The lizards born of myth and lore
That few have ever seen before,
Who ride the winds and skim the waves
And send the bravest to their graves,
Who’ve earned renown as hoarders, wyrms,
Monsters, fiends, and harsher terms
Yet are perhaps misunderstood
And might spice up the neighborhood.
For, given love, like any beast,
A dragon can be tamed, at least.

So Mom and Dad, you have to let
Me get a dragon as a pet.
I’ll take him out on flights each day
And teach him how to roar and slay.
He’ll never singe the rugs, I swear.
Oh, please, let’s have a dragon lair!
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MPA rating: PG

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the third installment in the How to Train Your Dragon series. I loved the first film, while the second left me rather cold, and angry honestly at the way Hiccup’s father was torn from his family. I still consider myself a fan of the series, so I was hopeful The Hidden World would end the trilogy on a better note. Thankfully, it managed to deliver both an entertaining adventure and a satisfying conclusion to the story of Hiccup the Viking and Toothless the Night Fury.

Like many a DreamWorks film, The Hidden World does feel a tad recycled. Expanding the first film’s culture of dragon-hunting, the new villain is the famous and feared dragon hunter Grimmel (F. Murray Abraham), who, like Drago in the second film, employs his own dragons for his purposes. And since the first film’s dragon nest and the second film’s dragon sanctuary weren’t impressive enough, we learn that Hiccup’s father was also searching for an even bigger “Hidden World,” the original home of the dragons. When Grimmel threatens the village of Berk and the peace between Vikings and dragons, Hiccup and his friends evacuate everyone to search for a new safe haven in this Hidden World.

Thanks to ever-improving technology, The Hidden World is probably the best looking of the three films, with lighting, shading, and fire and water effects adding greatly to the atmosphere and the thrilling action scenes. Abraham’s voice also makes Grimmel a dignified but menacing antagonist. The dire threat reinforces the slightly darker epic tone of the second film, while some well-played running gags successfully lighten the mood with doses of humor.

As I watched The Hidden World, I was trying to figure out what was lacking between this (one of DreamWorks’ best franchises) and the likes of Disney or Pixar. In addition to a few mixed messages (like calling dragons pets in the first film yet treating them as equals here), I think a main issue is the side characters; Astrid (America Ferrera) and Hiccup’s mother (Cate Blanchett) fare well, but Hiccup’s other friends are hastily introduced in an opening action set piece yet never make much of an impression beyond a few gags. Despite this, Hiccup and Toothless are a lovable pair to make up for other faults, and it’s genuinely sad as they start to drift apart when Toothless becomes enamored of a female “Light Fury.” Like Ash and Butterfree in Pokemon, it’s clear right away where the story is going with the relationship between dragon and rider, but, even if it didn’t bring a tear to my eye like it might well have when I was ten years old, it was still a touching and beautiful conclusion to an inconsistent but ultimately satisfying trilogy.

Best line: (Stoick, in a flashback) “But with love comes loss, son. It’s part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it’s all worth it. There’s no greater gift than love.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
684 Followers and Counting