Moana (2016)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Disney, Family, Fantasy, Musical

Out on the ocean, with sea on all sides,
The wind as your engine, the stars as your guides,
You are your own island, though roaming between
The land you called home and another unseen.

To blaze the blue courses no human has plied,
You must navigate more than tempest and tide.
To know destination and where you’ll return,
Your place in the ocean of life you must learn.
__________________

MPAA rating: PG

Most would agree that 2016 was a strong year for Disney (and animation in general), releasing two movies in the same year and both nominated for Best Animated Feature: Zootopia, which I loved, and Moana, which I wish I loved more. I’ve waited to review Moana because I wanted to see it again to see if I liked it better than my initial viewing, and I did, but not nearly as much as everyone else. While others are ranking it among Disney’s best, I’ve got it tucked in the middle of the “I like it” section, and I’m not even completely sure why.

The common complaint is that Moana recycles plot elements and the stern authoritarian father figure from The Little Mermaid, also directed by Disney veterans Ron Clements and John Musker, but that didn’t bother me much. There’s plenty else to set it apart, including the obvious subversion that King Trident wanted to keep Ariel in the sea and away from things of the land, while Moana’s father (Temuera Morrison, who played Jango Fett in Star Wars: Episode II) tries to keep her on their island of Motonui and away from the sea. Literally chosen by the sentient ocean to return the fabled Heart of Te Fiti and stop a spreading darkness, Moana (Auli’i Cravalho) sets out on her own (not unlike Mulan) to find the shapeshifting demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson) and return the Heart.

Before I get into my nitpicking, I must give credit where credit is due. The animation is a new CGI high for Disney, with special attention paid to the lush island greenery and the photorealistic water, and I don’t think any movie since Finding Nemo has contained this much stunningly animated water. It’s a technical marvel, and one more sign that Disney is handily keeping up with Pixar’s animation quality. The music is also well done, courtesy of Hamilton’s Lin Manuel-Miranda, score composer Mark Mancina, and South Pacific musician Opetaia Foa’i. I still think it’s not as memorable as past Disney soundtracks, yet most of the songs have gotten stuck in my head at some point.  My least favorite has to be the still lyrically clever “Shiny,” sung by the oddly accented crab monster Tamatoa (Jemaine Clement), but Moana’s “How Far I Go” and Maui’s “You’re Welcome” are soon-to-be-classic highlights, making me wish there were more musical numbers throughout.

I’m still trying to figure out why Moana didn’t hit me as it did so many others. I don’t think it’s the Pacific island pagan mythology, since Disney has explored other culture’s religions in the past, like the ancestors of Mulan and the spirits of Brother Bear. So what then? The best answer I can give is that I simply didn’t connect with the setting and, by extension, the story. I personally have no love for tropical islands (I used to live in Florida and moved to get away from that kind of climate), so that could be a factor, whereas I found it easy to enjoy Brother Bear since I love Alaska and its mountain scenery. Likewise, as strong as the main two characters were, I felt there was something lacking in the script, perhaps in the humor department. Moana’s repeated self-motivation got old after a while, and the reason for why the ocean chose her, a question that haunts her throughout, is somewhat glossed over in favor of stirring self-confidence. And why did the ocean, controlling itself like the water column from The Abyss, only help her at some points and not others?

As with so many of my less-than-positive reviews, I don’t want to make it sound as if I didn’t like it. I did. Moana is a solid addition to the Disney canon, boasting colorful and beautifully rendered animation and outstanding voicework. It took some time, but I really enjoyed the dynamic between Moana and Maui and how it grew along their voyage, as well as his tattoo mini-Maui. There’s much to praise, particularly in how Disney has created an admirable dark-skinned heroine and independent role model for kids, much more successfully than in The Princess and the Frog. All I can say is that it’s not one of my favorites, and I understand if people disagree with my gripes. I love Brother Bear and don’t get why some people hate it. One of the many great things about Disney’s canon is how varied it is, and for every lukewarm entry, there’s one to absolutely love. Moana does continue Disney’s streak of winners, but I thought Zootopia was better and deserved its Best Animated Feature win. But that’s just me.

Best lines: (Moana) “Okay, first, I am not a princess. I’m the daughter of the chief.”
(Maui) “Same difference.”
(Moana) “No.”
(Maui) “If you wear a dress and have an animal sidekick, you’re a princess.”

and

(Moana, as Tamatoa tries to take her necklace) “Don’t! That’s my gramma’s!”
(Tamatoa, the crab monster, mocking) “’That’s my gramma’s!’ I ate my Gramma! And it took a week, ’cause she was absolutely humongous.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
499 Followers and Counting

 

Kung Fu Panda 3 (2016)

Tags

Action, Animation, Comedy, Dreamworks, Family, Fantasy

Between one parent and one child,
Their love is uncomplicated,
Even if they’re not related
Or may feel somehow exiled.

Will it change, their love compiled,
If a parent is located
From which they were separated
And the two are reconciled?

Some may fear they’ll be reviled
At reunions long-awaited,
Yet how can love be ever faded
Between a parent and their child?
________________

MPAA rating: PG

It may have seemed that DreamWorks was just planning to milk its past success with minimum effort when it released a third Kung Fu Panda in the usually lackluster month of January last year. However, Kung Fu Panda 3 managed to exceed expectations and end the franchise on a surprisingly solid note, building on its prequels with a satisfying conclusion.

After the final scene of Kung Fu Panda 2, where Po’s real not-dead father Li Shang (Bryan Cranston) realizes his son is alive, we get to see father and son reunite early on, only to be threatened by a new adversary named Kai (J.K. Simmons), a yak from the Spirit World who drains others’ chi energy. While Kai builds an army by turning kung fu masters into jade zombies (yes, jombies), Po (Jack Black) follows his father to his home in a distant village of pandas, where Po hopes to train but ends up enjoying the life among his own kind that he never knew.

Kung Fu Panda 3 continues the strengths and weaknesses of its predecessors, including some stellar fight choreography and animation, as well as a lack of character development for Poe’s comrades, the Furious Five, except for Tigress (Angelina Jolie). Where it excels in the character department is Po and his two fathers, adoptive goose father Mr. Ping (James Hong) and his biological father Li. I love how Mr. Ping has grown from an eyebrow-raising gag in the first film to a real source of heart for these movies. Here, he finds himself jealous of Po’s excitement at finding his father and wrestles with how to react to this new monopolizer of Po’s attention. Meanwhile, Li may seem selfish or unwise at times, but it’s easy to sympathize with both fathers. In addition, the fact that Li seeks out Po after realizing he’s alive makes his absence a whole lot more understandable than, say, the willing separation of Hiccup’s mom in How to Train Your Dragon 2.

Kung Fu Panda 3 does a lot to bring the franchise full circle, particularly in the return of the deceased Master Oogway (Randall Duk Kim). True, it sidelines formerly major characters like Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) and bears similarities to the first film, but Po’s family dynamic and the Spirit World villain help it stand apart. The village full of Po’s fellow lazy pandas was also cute and endearing for the most part, where I expected it to be lame and silly. Aside from the action sequences, I especially admired one underplayed sacrifice that was easily Poe’s most heroic moment of the series.

All in all, Kung Fu Panda 3 is a worthy and funny finale for a series I didn’t expect to like when the first film was released back in 2008. DreamWorks has maintained its quality in both animation and story, creating a trilogy where it’s hard to say which of the three is the best, though I’m partial to the second movie. Why it was released in January, I don’t know, but Kung Fu Panda 3 is one of DreamWorks Animation’s stronger sequels.

Best line: (Shifu) “If you only do what you can do, you’ll never be better than what you are.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy (joining the other two)

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
497 Followers and Counting

 

VC Pick: Over the Top (1987)

Tags

Drama, Family, Sports, VC Pick

If I had rippling muscles
And a huge right arm to lend,
I’d enter contests proving
What a beast I am at moving
Other people’s arms at angles
That they were not meant to bend.

I suppose my strength would let me
Find more meaningful success,
But when limbs become this hefty,
Whether right-handed or lefty,
There are few things quite as tempting
As to prove one’s manliness.
__________________

MPAA rating: PG

Many of Sylvester Stallone’s films are designed to reinforce his manliness, the kind of machismo that automatically raises the ambient testosterone level. If there’s any doubt about who the toughest guy in the room is, just wait, and he’ll prove his muscular superiority.

That’s the kind of movie I assumed Over the Top would be based on the fact that it’s about an armwrestling competition, and that’s what it is, but not all it is. It’s also, surprisingly, a family film, in contrast to Stallone’s many R-rated actioners. He plays Lincoln Hawk (now that’s a cool ‘80s name if I ever heard one), a trucker who attempts to bond with his estranged son Michael (David Mendenhall) via a road trip, much to the chagrin of the boy’s rich, Hawk-hating grandfather Jason Cutler (Robert Loggia). As Michael’s chilly treatment of his absentee father melts in the wake of cross-country bonding, we get to see Stallone show off his armwrestling expertise. Can he use that underdog prowess to earn back his son from the intrusive grandfather? Can he defeat all the trash-talking he-men at the World Armwrestling Championship? Can he? Can he?!

You probably know the answer so, yes, Over the Top is entirely predictable, but it still manages to be enjoyably so. The first half especially engenders the same tough-guy sympathy that Stallone had in Rocky, as he tries to break down Michael’s walls and prove he’s more than the irresponsible Neanderthal Cutler considers him, with some stunning western scenery to back their father-son journey. The latter half is more typical sports stuff, with Hawk’s future, fatherhood, and everything else depending on his strong right arm. As he trains hard and progresses through the championship with accompanying encouragement and theme music, it’s hard not to feel like you’re watching an obvious variant of Rocky and The Karate Kid, but it’s still aggressively macho fun. I just didn’t understand how winning the championship would legally get Hawk’s son back or why Cutler was intent on stopping him, when I thought Hawk had already signed over his parental rights.

Even if the details are left vague, Over the Top is decent fun backed by rousing rock songs, and it’s not nearly as bad as its reputation as a bomb would indicate. By the way, the title refers to conquering the middle arm position during an armwrestling match, though I suppose it also applies to the bravado of the championship itself. Over the Top may not stand out next to most of its ‘80s brethren, but it’s worth a watch if you’re in the mood for macho.

Best line: (Hawk) “The world meets nobody halfway. When you want something, you gotta take it.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
497 Followers and Counting

 

Storks (2016)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Fantasy

 

I wrote to the storks with a simple request,
A baby, just one, and I wanted the best.
I wanted him perfect, no colic or crying
Or being a pest by not always complying.
And potty-trained too, with no changing a diaper,
And energy neither too boring or hyper.
And give him a lovable heart of pure gold,
To love me, respect me, and care when I’m old.
So when there’s a well-behaved angel on earth
In stock, send at once. (So much simpler than birth!)

And what did those long-necking lummoxes send
But a baby like so many others to tend?!
Since he first arrived, he’s incessantly cried
And stunk before I even brought him inside.
And all the bird left me was this little note:
“We’ve tried to match most of the wishes you wrote.
But you should just know that the son you desired
Has years of hard work of assembly required.”
____________________

MPAA rating: PG

Storks didn’t look all that impressive when it came out last year, just another maverick animated film struggling to reach even DreamWorks quality. When I actually gave it a chance, though, it turned out to be a pleasant surprise, more humorous and heartwarming than I would have guessed, and a solid if hyperactive cartoon that the Warner Animation Group (who also produced The Lego Movie) can be proud of.

There’s no denying that the premise of Storks is a bit gonzo, making an entire, half-baked plot out of the myth of storks delivering babies, which I can only assume was invented so parents could appease their kids’ curiosity without broaching the birds-and-bees speech. In this world, storks have switched from baby delivery to package delivery (after all, someone says, “there are other ways of making babies”), after an incident left them unable to deliver young Tulip to her family. Tulip (Katie Crown) grows up as a ward of the storks’ Amazon-like company called Cornerstore.com, and, after she impetuously activates the abandoned baby factory and creates a little girl, she and the corporate ladder-climbing Junior (Andy Samberg) try to deliver the baby to her family without alerting their authoritarian boss Hunter (Kelsey Grammer).

The storyline is loose and frenetic, with enough rapid-fire jokes that the plot often seems like just an excuse to string together random gags. The upside is that many of these gags are actually funny, particularly a baby-loving pack of wolves who somehow manage to morph themselves into vehicles to give chase. While the action draws inspiration from the likes of Monsters, Inc. and Shark Tale, the constant jokes keep it fresh, and things move along at a pleasant clip. Most of the voice actors do good work as well, especially Katie Crown, whose exuberance makes Tulip a lovably upbeat character. The animation is also quite good, easier on the eyes than the hyper-detail of The Lego Movie and occasionally stunning with the bigger set pieces.

That being said, there’s bound to be a joke or two along the way that falls flat, and some do. The worst, though, is the character of an attention-seeking pigeon (Stephen Kramer Glickman) who tries desperately to be integral to the plot, such that the writers obviously thought he was hilarious. Yet his awkwardness is so aggressively unfunny that it drags the film down every time he appears onscreen. If ever there was a side character that needed to be rewritten or cut altogether, it’s the pigeon.

Overall, though, Storks was a fun watch with some surprising heart. Despite the innate weirdness of the whole storks-making-babies thing, there are some touching moments and themes, like the value of spending time as a family and achieving a sense of belonging, with some familiar overtones of Meet the Robinsons thrown in. In addition, I liked that there was a subtle, though probably unintentional, pro-life sentiment in how Hunter and Junior refer to the infant as “it” to avoid a connection while Tulip insists on calling it a baby. Storks may be too hyper and scattershot to win any awards or popularity contests, but it’s an amusing jaunt of absurdity.

Best line: (Hunter) “Look at that sunrise. How can you not look at it?”   (Junior, trying to humor his boss) “If I go blind, it’s worth it!”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
491 Followers and Counting

 

Version Variations: Pete’s Dragon (1977, 2016)

Tags

Animation, Drama, Family, Fantasy, Musical, Version Variations

To some, a forest holds mere trees,
With empty air between,
While one who knows to notice sees
A firmament of green,
Of life and lives and rarities
That few have ever seen.

What wonderments may hide out there
I cannot dare to guess,
But those who speak of creatures rare,
Withdrawn from man’s progress,
Perhaps perceive that empty air
Cannot be magicless.
_________________

MPAA rating for 1977 version: G (maybe PG)
MPAA rating for 2016 version: PG

With Disney so dedicated now to translating its past canon of animated classics into live-action films, it’s rather disconcerting that their attempts thus far have been fan favorites, like Sleeping Beauty or Beauty and the Beast, but not the lesser entries in Disney’s catalog. While remakes of The Black Cauldron and The Sword in the Stone are supposedly in the works and would be welcome, Pete’s Dragon is the first recent remake that actually had a chance of surpassing the original simply because the original is fairly lame. Yet, even though a simple updating of the tale could have sufficed, writer-director David Lowery took the essentials of the first story and transformed them into something closer in spirit to E.T. than to their source, providing an example of improvement for future Disney remakes to follow.

Let’s take a look at the original, a film whose “classic” status is more reliant on its age than anything else. The first Pete’s Dragon sees young Pete and his sometimes invisible dragon Elliott escape from a wicked foster family and seek a home in the seaside town of Passamaquoddy, where kind lighthouse keepers (Mickey Rooney, Helen Reddy) take him in and sneaky snake-oil salesmen (Jim Dale, Red Buttons) plot to capture Elliott. It’s a family-friendly musical in the vein of Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the key difference being that it came out in 1977, a less innocent time when ultra-sincere stories like this began tasting too saccharine.

The silly musical numbers and childish wish fulfillment simply don’t work as well here, thanks to some dreadfully gee-whiz acting from young Sean Marshall as Pete. There’s a notable lack of Disney magic, perhaps due to a new generation of animators (including Don Bluth) taking the reins at the time, and some elements are downright unpleasant, like the abusive backwoods Gogans, headed by Shelley Winters, who want Pete as their personal slave. The songs range from forgettable to embarrassing, but Helen Reddy’s “Candle on the Water” is a beautiful exception and even earned an Oscar nomination.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on the original Pete’s Dragon. If I’d seen it as a kid, maybe I’d consider it a classic, as I do Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. The merging of animation and live-action is actually done quite well, and there are some fun moments sprinkled throughout the tiresome ones, like Mickey Rooney’s panic over seeing Elliott or the visiting mountebank who can’t pronounce the name of the town he claims to love. It was also neat seeing Jim Backus of Gilligan’s Island appearing as the town’s mayor. By the overly heartwarming ending, I even was able to recognize why others might find this as charming as Elliott himself. Yet my adult sensibilities couldn’t let me overlook its glaring flaws and often laughable excesses, like the soap opera twist at the end that explains away a character’s year-long absence with amnesia. With these earnest family films, it’s a fine line between delightful and cloying, and Pete’s Dragon is one member of the Disney canon that could have certainly benefited from a remake done right.

Thankfully, almost forty years later, that remake arrived. I debated on whether to call this review a Cartoon Comparison or a Version Variation since the original’s dragon was animated and the latest Elliot was CGI, but since CGI is still animation, I opted for a Version Variation. (Did anyone else notice that the 1977 dragon was named Elliott with two t’s, while the more recent one was Elliot with one t?) Yes, in the 2016 version of Pete’s Dragon, there’s still a boy named Pete and a giant invisible green dragon, but that’s really all this film has in common with the original. Gone are the brutish hillbillies. Gone is Dr. Terminus, the greedy charlatan. Gone are the musical numbers and the silly tone. Whereas established fairy tale films are expected to follow the same beats as their predecessors, Pete’s Dragon took the bare minimum of inspiration from the 1977 movie and made something new yet affectionate out of it.

Young Pete (Oakes Fegley) is still an orphan, but the beginning actually shows the loss of his parents and how his first encounter with Elliot saves him, after which the boy grows up as a wild child with his protective dragon friend in the remote woods of the Pacific Northwest. In place of Helen Reddy’s beer cask-skipping lighthouse keeper, Bryce Dallas Howard is pleasantly down-to-earth as Forest Ranger Grace Meacham, and her father (Robert Redford) still tells tall tales of spotting an enormous dragon out in the woods. When Pete is discovered and falls into Grace’s charge, the same familial bonds and adoptive hopes develop as in the first film, only done better and with more subtlety. In lieu of the covetous swindler who wants Elliott for elixir ingredients, the villain role goes to Karl Urban as Gavin, the brother of Grace’s lumberjack boyfriend. His desire to capture a fantastical creature isn’t the most original element, but he’s more like Peter Coyote’s man with the keys from E.T. than an outright villain, and a good moment toward the end reaffirms that he does care more for his family than about fame and fortune.

The latest Pete’s Dragon is perhaps a bit too slow in spots, but it’s an appealing contrast to the frantic comedy of most family fare these days. Unlike the 1977 film, all of the human performances are natural and endearing, and Elliot himself is masterfully brought to life in all his fluffy green dragon glory, behaving like a giant dog at times, which is perhaps different from the whistling original but not at all in a negative way. And as a huge Lindsey Stirling fan, I have to mention her lovely and wistful song “Something Wild” that easily makes my End Credits Song Hall of Fame and was my #4 song of last year.

Of all the live-action remakes Disney has created and planned, Pete’s Dragon seemed an unlikely contender, with a lackluster original with limited appeal. Yet even if it’s not the most entertaining entry, Pete’s Dragon may be the best live-action translation yet. While Cinderella and The Jungle Book did their sources justice, 2016’s Pete’s Dragon blows its predecessor out of the water, from the much more intimate change in tone to the uplifting final scene that offers a happy ending to Elliot as well as Pete. Notably distinct without the need to be edgy or revisionist, it’s a gentle remake that Disney would do well to learn from.

Best line from 1977 version:  (Merle Gogan) “Say, have you seen anything of a mean, fresh kid, about yea big? Answers to the name of Pete.”  (Hoagy) “Half of the kids here in this town answer to Pete. Other half don’t answer.”

Best line from 2016 version:  (Mr. Meacham) “There’s magic in the woods, if you know where to look for it.”

 

Rank for the 1977 version: Dishonorable Mention
Rank for the 2016 version: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
484 Followers and Counting

 

The Boy and the Beast (2015)

Tags

Action, Animation, Anime, Drama, Family, Fantasy

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem inspired by the art in the margins of medieval manuscripts, which, if you look it up, can be pretty darn bizarre. One popular subject I noticed was anthropomorphic animals standing up like humans, and this film immediately came to mind.)

 

What wonder-filled world have I wandered into,
So foreign to me and yet home to this zoo?
What strange sort of people inhabit this land,
Where hopefully eating the tourists is banned?

I’ve never seen animals walking like men,
Except for a viral show-off now and then,
But I, as a visitor, now must take care
To not let the seven-foot pig see me stare.

They fight and converse, like us humans, I guess;
Some threaten and hate, and some hate a bit less.
Now new cartoon worlds don’t appear every day.
The strangeness is fading; I think I may stay.
__________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

I don’t know why it took me so long to finally see The Boy and the Beast, considering how much I love director Mamoru Hosoda’s previous film Wolf Children. It feels both very similar to and very different from that film, but it carries the same creative touch that sets Hosoda’s films apart from Studio Ghibli or other anime.

The director seems to alternate the gender of his protagonists (a girl in The Girl Who Leapt through Time, a boy in Summer Wars, a young woman in Wolf Children), and The Boy and the Beast is much more of a male-centric story, as the name implies. After an introduction explaining how two fighting masters are preparing to face off for the rule of a parallel world of beasts, we’re introduced to Ren, a nine-year-old human who has run away from home and become deeply bitter after the death of his mother. A chance encounter with a hooded and gruff bear-faced stranger captures his curiosity, and he follows him through an alleyway portal to the beast world, a disorienting scene reminiscent of the spirit world’s emergence in Spirited Away. Though mocked, feared, and bullied in this land of walking, talking animals, Ren becomes the grudging apprentice of Kumatetsu, a warrior preparing to fight for his world’s lordship who also happens to be a juvenile ruffian. The two learn from each other, Karate Kid-style, and the mutual chips on their shoulders help them form a uniquely short-tempered bond.

Among the similarities to Wolf Children (aside from the appearance of wolf-headed background characters) is the theme of choosing where one belongs. While the earlier film made Ame and Yuki choose between life as wolves or as humans, The Boy and the Beast presents Ren with an analogous decision between the rough-and-tumble warrior life among beasts or the more scholarly and even romantic pursuits among his own kind. One of my favorite sequences is when Ren is older and connects with a female student who tutors him, a very sweet montage recalling the touching beginning of Wolf Children. Yet this film also faces the dark consequences fostered by bitterness and feelings of not belonging, which can threaten to swallow up their owner, here literalized as a soul-corrupting monster to be confronted.

Where The Boy and the Beast falters is oddly enough its key dynamic, the relationship between Ren and Kumatetsu. The way their antagonism belies deeper respect and affection is well-developed, but the constant yelling at each other becomes tiring after a while, making me wish for the far quieter tone of Wolf Children. In addition, the mythological world of the beasts remains a bit alienating at times, not helped by the long Japanese names many of them possess; the story runs a bit too long; and the big, action-packed, touching, meaningful finale may look impressive, but it only makes sense because the story says it does.

The Boy and the Beast has a lot to appreciate. I was particularly impressed by certain fluidly crafted shots, such as first-person perspectives that zoom through a scene or tracking shots that slowly extend to reveal something off-screen. The detail of the animation is beautiful, especially in that finale I mentioned, and, if you can get past the frequent yelling (which isn’t uncommon in anime), there’s an engaging tale of finding unconventional family at its core. It didn’t speak to me personally like Wolf Children did, but I can see someone else being equally as fond of it.

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
473 Followers and Counting

 

The Good Dinosaur (2015)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Drama, Family, Pixar

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a georgic, which I may have confused with a pastoral, but both have to do with agriculture or country life. It may have only a thin connection to the film reviewed, but this is what came to mind.)

 

It’s easy to forget the joy
Of life dependent on my touch,
Of plants that never would have grown,
Sprouts that might have bent to stone,
Animals safe in their zone,
Pride in lifetimes all my own,
Though they don’t know it much.

So many want adventurous
And thrilling lives at large,
For every sight to be unseen,
Nothing staid or too serene,
Changed before it feels routine,
Nothing but a glowing screen
To be within my charge.

Adventure, danger have their place,
But when the thrill is gone,
They too will wish for their homestead,
Fruitful loam and flower bed,
Trust in what yet lies ahead,
Smaller lives now comforted
By one to rely upon.
________________

MPAA rating: PG

The Good Dinosaur is quite the mixed bag for Pixar. If DreamWorks or Blue Sky had made it, I might rank it among their best work, but for Pixar, it’s a weak entry in a filmography full of instant classics. There’s nothing especially wrong with this story of a timid young Apatosaurus named Arlo who is separated from his mountain farm and forced to survive and eventually bond with a human “pet” he names Spot, but like Brave, it’s Pixar at its most unoriginal. The plot borrows heavily from the likes of The Land Before Time, The Lion King, and Ice Age, and yet it still has moments of wonder, pathos, and heartwarmth (that’s a word now) that are staples of Pixar’s brand of storytelling.

I suppose my biggest beef with the film is the creative choices of its animators. On the one hand, the scenery clearly modeled off Wyoming’s Grand Tetons and Yellowstone is absolutely stunning, perhaps some of the most gorgeous animated landscapes ever; and on the other, the dinosaurs themselves are as cartoonish and unrealistic as possible. Nothing’s wrong with the animation quality, and a closer look at the dinos reveals more detail than is seen at first glance; but their general design looks like Play-Doh next to the realism of the backgrounds. It looked suspect in the trailers, and as good as Pixar’s animation is, I feel it was just a bad creative decision, making me miss the realism of Disney’s Dinosaur.

On top of that, The Good Dinosaur really is a missed opportunity. The stated premise is that the meteor never wiped out the dinosaurs, so millions of years later, it’s dinos that have risen to the point of an agrarian/herding society. I suppose their presence is meant to explain why humans never got past the caveman stage, but is that really the best that the creative minds at Pixar could come up with? Based on the description, I was imagining a modern-day world with humans and dinosaurs living side by side in some kind of fusion civilization, but there’s nothing here that couldn’t have feasibly happened millions of years ago. I feel like the “millions of years later” aspect was included just so that Pixar could put a dinosaur and a human together without drawing the ire of evolutionist date critics. A movie can suspend the disbelief of a dinosaur family farming, so isn’t the human-dinosaur pairing within the realm of credibility for a cartoon? For the world to be like this millions of years later is kind of a letdown.

Wow, two whole paragraphs of gripes might make you think I hated this movie, but I did enjoy it. The overall story may be simple and unoriginal, but Arlo’s journey to gain courage fosters a familiar kind of inspiration. The comedy is hit-and-miss, but there are a few dramatic moments that resoundingly hit home, whether it be the beyond-words stick-figure bonding between Arlo and Spot or the ghostly dream Arlo has at a crucial juncture. I also loved some magical scenes with fireflies and Sam Elliott’s role as a T. Rex cowboy, even if the dynamics of this dino-world remain underdeveloped. By the end, The Good Dinosaur may be disappointing by Pixar’s standards, but by anyone else’s, it’s a decent animated coming-of-age story that, like Arlo, proves stronger than its failings.

Best line: (Poppa) “Sometimes you got to get through your fear to see the beauty on the other side.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
473 Followers and Counting

 

Queen of Katwe (2016)

Tags

Biopic, Drama, Family, Sports

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem that incorporates the terminology of sports or games, and this film was the first to come to mind.)

 

Who showed the grandmasters to break and blockade?
Who taught the young hotshots before they were paid?
Somebody who saw that this amateur played
With potential to rival the greats.

No pro cut his teeth in the big leagues to start;
No novice knew every play tactic by heart.
The champions once were unversed in their art,
Like those whose achievement awaits.

To round the bases,
To win the races
Or marathon,
To queen the pawn,
To reach for fame upon your name,
To spike the ball,
Slam dunk them all,
To hit a home run,
To say you’ve won,
You first must dare to play the game.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG

This inspirational sports drama (yes, apparently chess can be considered a sport) didn’t make many waves when Disney quietly released it last September, but it’s a finely crafted member of a genre that often falls into feel-good clichés. In 2009, 10-year-old Phiona Mutesi (Madina Nalwanga) had little expectation for her life other than selling maize for her mother (Lupita Nyong’o) to prolong their dirt-floor subsistence living in Uganda, but the encouragement of sports coach Robert Katende (David Oyelowo) awakens in her not only a surprising talent for chess but a hope for a better life.

Queen of Katwe sidesteps the “white savior” accusations that similar films often bear (Finding Forrester, The Blind Side) by possessing an almost exclusively black cast, with Nyong’o and Oyelowo excelling as loving mentors who sometimes clash over how best to nurture Phiona’s potential. The film includes quite a bit that other underdog stories have, but it does it well, following the various stages of Phiona’s competitive development, from not believing herself worthy of attention to obsession and success to overconfidence to despair to rewarded effort. Again, whereas an American version of this true story might have stressed a racial divide between Phiona and the chess-playing elites, her struggle is instead against the class divide between her native slums of Katwe and the more educated and comfortable social status that seems out of reach for people like her.

Perhaps the film of which Queen of Katwe most reminded me was Akeelah and the Bee, another inspirational tale of an encouraging coach fostering in a young black girl an intellectual talent that might have gone unnoticed without his intervention. Akeelah and the Bee is a better and more entertaining film, in my opinion, but Queen of Katwe has the advantage of having real events and people behind its story, who we actually get to see during the obligatory where-are-they-now segment before the end credits. Plus, the presence of Christianity is refreshingly forthright in the faith of many characters with Katende’s coaching being a part of a Christian ministry, but it never becomes evangelistic or preachy. As admirable as Queen of Katwe is, it’s a bit too drawn-out and overlong in places; one sequence of Phiona’s mother buying paraffin for her late-night studying could have been cut down to half the number of scenes, for example. Even so, Phiona’s journey is worth rooting for, punctuated by some brilliant words of wisdom from her coach and a constant hope that dedication can lead to triumph and self-improvement.

Best line: (Robert Katende, to Phiona) “Sometimes the place you are used to is not the place where you belong.”

 

Rank:  List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
473 Followers and Counting

 

The Lego Movie (2014)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Fantasy

(The prompt for Day 7 of NaPoWriMo was to write a poem centered around luck or fortuitousness, such as finding something you didn’t know you’d lost.)

 

I found a lonely Lego head
That rolled out when I moved the bed,
A static smile on its face
And of his body not a trace.
What toys I’d played with in his stead—
He did not care, his smile said.

Where he was from, I could not say,
Nor what I’d used him for that day—
What worlds and exploits I’d created
Before he was decapitated,
Perhaps a knight as dragon prey
Or zombie falling to decay.

Though gone was every fellow piece,
His smile never seemed to cease.
Alone no more on outcast ground,
His hopes were met, and he was found.
His smile chides my lack of peace.
I wait, as well, for my release.
________________

MPAA rating: PG

When The Lego Movie burst on the scene in February of 2014, it’s safe to say that it surpassed expectations. Many smaller and lamer Lego animations had preceded it on television, and mediocrity seemed to be its destiny. Then lo and behold, the reviews came back positive, and directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, also behind Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, proved they could breathe hilarious life into the most unlikely subjects. I can’t wait to see what they do with the upcoming Han Solo spinoff.

The Lego Movie is hard to sum up because it’s a lot of things at once. At one level, it’s an ultra-fast-paced adventure about a normal nobody named Emmett (Chris Pratt), drawn into a larger world of Master Builders to thwart the evil plans of a tyrant (Will Ferrell). You know, typical hero journey stuff. Yet, at the same time, it’s an ironically self-aware multiverse of franchise crossovers, a stimulating commentary on specialness and self-invention, a critique of the extremes of both conformity and anarchy, a cornucopia of parody opportunities, and even a transcendently sweet example of the value of playtime. You know, not so typical animated stuff.

With its constantly frenetic pace designed for short attention spans, it’s not always easy to keep up, but there’s literally something for everyone to enjoy and laugh at. The characters are as diverse as they come: you’ve got instruction-following everyman Emmett, who discovers the Piece of Resistance and is suddenly labeled “the Special”; love interest Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks), who’s an obvious imitator of Trinity from The Matrix; Batman himself (Will Arnett), whose eccentricities are raised to jerk levels; the wizard Vitruvius (Morgan Freeman), whose prophecies are true because they rhyme; and ever-joyful Unikitty (Alison Brie) from Cloud Cuckooland, who for some reason is my favorite of the bunch. Not to mention the enormous supporting cast of foes and friends from franchises only a Lego movie could mash together.

Overall, The Lego Movie is a good amount of fun with some surprising depth for those looking past the vibrant colors and manic action. It’s not quite as funny as it tries to be or as sensational as its biggest fans treat it, but the sheer number of jokes and themes on display manage to hit more than they miss. The computer animation is unique in how it appears as stop motion, and this visual distinction heightens the sense of watching Lego creations that could actually be built if they moved with the imagination-directed smoothness of those microbots in Big Hero 6. The film’s hyperactivity would be harder to watch in larger doses (which is why my VC didn’t care for it), but the sharp social satire and brilliant cacophony of spoofs distinguish The Lego Movie as “special” among modern animated films.

Best line: (Emmett, upon being told of the villain and his evil corporation) “President Business is going to end the world? But he’s such a good guy! And Octan, they make good stuff: music, dairy products, coffee, TV shows, surveillance systems, all history books, voting machines… wait a minute!”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
464 Followers and Counting

 

Hidden Figures (2016)

Tags

Biopic, Drama, Family, History

 

The chronicles of history are filled with famous names,
Who’ve earned our generation’s praise or bear their age’s shames.
We think we know the few worthwhile players of the past,
And yet the world was shaped by more than names we learned in class.

Behind each role we’re tested on and public figure known
Were men and women, making crucial impacts of their own.
Perhaps they knew obscurity would be their likely end,
But history’s more hidden tales are those to recommend.
__________________

MPAA rating: PG

I’m honestly amazed that I did not already know the story of Katherine Johnson and her fellow black female compatriots at NASA. I remember noticing a theater display for Hidden Figures on my way out of watching Rogue One and thinking, “Oh, NASA—that might be interesting.” The same day I saw an episode of Timeless that featured Katherine Johnson as the historical figure of the week. That’s when I did some research and knew this was a film I had to see, which I finally did with my mom.

She used to work at Kennedy Space Center during the early Space Shuttle launches, and my grandfather was involved at a relatively high level in the Mercury, Gemini, Apollo, and Shuttle missions, so the space program means a lot to our family. Which makes it all the more astonishing that neither I nor my mom had ever heard of these “hidden figures,” who calculated trajectories and landing coordinates even better than their white, male coworkers. Taraji P. Henson plays Katherine Goble (eventually Johnson), whose knack for algebra earns her the role of “computer” for the Space Task Group, a thankless job of number-crunching with more than a little prejudice aimed her way. Also working at Virginia’s Langley Research Center are Mary Jackson (Janelle Monáe), who strives for the right to be an engineer, and Dorothy Vaughn (Oscar nominee Octavia Spencer), who seeks the elusive title of supervisor over her team of black female computers. In addition to the talented cast of African Americans, including Mahershala Ali as well, Kevin Costner delivers an excellent supporting role as Katherine’s no-nonsense boss who refuses to let bigotry impede the mission at hand. (I rather wish Costner had gotten a Supporting Actor nomination; Ed Harris did for Apollo 13, and there’s nothing Harris did that Costner doesn’t do just as well.)

I expected to love Hidden Figures going in, with its inspiring role models and old-fashioned enlightenment of unsung history, and I did, perhaps not quite as much as I expected but not in any disappointing way. I felt that the racism early on was a bit heavy-handed, with entire rooms of white men staring at Katherine as if she had two heads, yet I wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed how it was. Likewise, there are many historical liberties taken for the sake of the story, whether it be composite characters created to get points across or details streamlined to simplify the story. For instance, Costner is made to look like he’s running Mission Control, but he’s at Langley, not Houston. Yet, for the most part, I didn’t mind the license taken, since it served the story to no historical detriment. (There are some interesting true-to-life details thrown in, though, such as the flooring material that snags Mary Jackson’s high heel; my mom can attest to that annoyance.) I also don’t agree with the few complaints I’ve heard about the film’s predictable underdog conventions; when it’s done right, it makes for a great movie, and it’s never been done with these characters and this particular slice of history. For the record, my mom absolutely loved it, except maybe for some of the semi-repetitive soundtrack from Pharrell Williams.

Hidden Figures is a film I believe all African Americans, all women, and everyone else for that matter ought to see. Beyond being an entertaining true story, it’s a film rife with positive messages, both obvious and subtle. Mary Jackson and Dorothy Vaughan may be bitter about their superiors’ scorn, but they don’t take it lying down. Dorothy herself tells Mary not to complain but to do something about it. It’s a court plea in Mary’s case, while Dorothy shows incredible foresight in noticing the incoming IBM meant to replace her human computers and becoming an expert in computer coding to make herself and her team valuable. Her visit to the library is backdropped by a street protest, and while the protest clearly got more attention at the time, it’s her attempts at personal betterment that are more laudable.

While Hidden Figures may follow familiar story beats, it’s a marvelously acted feel-good film that ennobles intelligence and mathematics and casts a long overdue spotlight on the unrecognized heroines of NASA. Even if the initial reactions of their biased coworkers can be frustrating, the talent and intellect they displayed are undeniable, as is the satisfaction of seeing it vindicated. They served their nation well, and there was no color-coding to the worry and interest directed at sending Americans into space, evident from black and white families both anxiously watching John Glenn’s historic flight. At our present point in history, what could be more inspiring?

Best line: (Katherine, responding to being underestimated) “I will have you know, I was the first Negro female student at West Virginia University Graduate School. On any given day, I analyze the binomial levels of air displacement, friction, and velocity. And compute over ten thousand calculations by cosine, square root, and lately analytic geometry. By hand. There are twenty bright, highly capable Negro women in the West Computing Group, and we’re proud to be doing our part for the country. So yes, they let women do some things at NASA, Mr. Johnson. And it’s not because we wear skirts. It’s because we wear glasses. Have a good day.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
451 Followers and Counting