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Withdrawn from man’s progress,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

 

The Goonies (1985)

Tags

Comedy, Family, Thriller

 

The story of One-Eyed Willy’s hoard
Has haunted the dreams of the greedy and bored,
But, though men have suffered both peril and pain,
Their seeking and sneaking have all been in vain.

Until the momentous event heaven-sent
When a map was discovered by mere accident,
And a cluster of kids, their homes soon to be sold,
Endeavored to find Willy’s ill-gotten gold.

Through tunnels and traps only pirates would build,
The friends followed through, some alarmed and some thrilled.
While saving their home, all the Goonies, now grown,
Sought out golden legends and so wrote their own.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG (maybe PG-13)

The Goonies is a film I really wish I had seen when I was younger. I remember seeing it on the shelf at Blockbuster when I was a kid and never having enough interest to rent it, but I’ve been meaning to ever since. In fact, it probably would have been one of my Blindspot picks if I hadn’t caught it on TV at the end of 2016. Despite my late introduction to this beloved ‘80s flick, I still enjoyed it a lot, much in the way I enjoy YA books or cartoons that are clearly juvenile but still entertaining.

Of course, the biggest claim to fame that this Steven Spielberg/Chris Columbus story has is the talented cast of young stars-to-be, like The Outsiders, Stand By Me, or Red Dawn. Jonathan Ke Huy Quan may be otherwise known only as Short Round in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but it’s a little surreal to see so many other well-known actors at the start of their careers, from Joe Pantoliano and Josh Brolin to Corey Feldman and cute little Sean Astin as Mikey Walsh. Little did they know at the time….

The film starts out in fun fashion as a jailbreak orchestrated by the criminal Fratelli family triggers a car chase across town, whizzing past the main characters and introducing us one by one to the club of young Goonies and their individual quirks. To their dismay, their neighborhood is soon to be destroyed by an encroaching country club, and no one wants to see it saved as much as Mikey. When they find a hidden map in his attic that may lead to a lost pirate treasure, he convinces his pals to follow him. Joined later by Mikey’s brother Brand (Brolin) and his female friends (Kerri Green and Martha Plimpton), they discover more adventure and danger than they imagined, both from booby traps along the way and from the Fratellis hot on their trail.

I can imagine everyone having a favorite Goonie. Maybe someone loves Data (Quan) and his anti-bully inventions or poor chubby Chunk (Jeff Cohen) and his klutzy anxiety. I thought Corey Feldman as Mouth stole his scenes, and I especially loved his hilarious “translations” to the Walsh’s Spanish-speaking maid. Astin makes for a wholly likable leader of the bunch, and despite their eccentricities, it was neat how each of them got a moment to shine by using their unique skills. The traps they encounter are actually quite inventive and nail-biting in a Scooby-Doo sort of way, and though I’m not the first to notice this, the family dynamic of the Fratelli family reminded me of the air pirates in Castle in the Sky, headed by a mean and cantankerous mother (although Mama Fratelli is much meaner than Dola).

It did seem that the filmmakers were aiming for different age demographics depending on the scene. In some cases, the language and menace seem a bit much for young kids, and until the end, the Fratellis are more threatening than the cartoonish villains I expected. Other times, the danger devolves into juvenile panic, possibly stretching one’s patience for kids screaming at each other. I wasn’t much of a fan of Sloth, the deformed and simple-minded Fratelli brother whose presence seems pointless until needed by the plot, and the final confrontation with the Fratellis seemed rather poorly planned. I mean, one minute, the kids are being forced to walk the plank as if it’s some great peril, and the next, everyone’s jumping off as if it’s no big deal. Even so, the very end was heartwarming, despite the fact that no one seems eager to recover what’s disappearing in the distance.

All in all, I’m glad I finally got to enjoy The Goonies, even without the nostalgia goggles with which all those children of the ‘80s view it. I can certainly understand it being a childhood favorite, and I suspect it would have been for me too, had I chanced to rent it from Blockbuster all those years ago. (Boy, I’m making myself sound old.) The Goonies may be a bit puerile at times, but its lovable cast of youngsters and adventurous spirit still make it a classic.

Best line: (Andy, trying to play a piano booby trap) “I can’t tell… if it’s an A sharp or if it’s a B flat!”   (Mikey) “Heh, if you hit the wrong note, we’ll all ‘B flat!’”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
443 Followers and Counting

 

Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)

Tags

Action, Animation, Family, Fantasy, Stop Motion

 

In ages long past, a boy dazzled his town
With music and magic and tales of renown,
With legends and stories he conjured and staged
As fierce paper battles and paper wars waged.

His paper-fold figures delighted the folk,
Who sang the boy’s praises before the spell broke,
But no one would guess that the sagas he spun
Held echoes of truth for this samurai’s son.

The rush of a rousing adventure well-told
Can wither as soon as the papers unfold,
But when real adventure emerges from lore,
The tales and their memories mean a bit more.
________________

MPAA rating: PG

I had the pleasure of seeing Kubo and the Two Strings as a sort-of double feature with Suicide Squad, and as the reviews of the latter would suggest, Kubo was easily the better film. In fact, I believe it has surpassed Chicken Run as my favorite stop-motion animated film, and mainly because it did something no other stop-motion movie has. The jerky movements or macabre aesthetic of past such films have defined the medium for years, but for the first time, Kubo made me forget I was watching stop motion. That makes it not only a visually incredible adventure with an imaginative story to boot, but a new high-point of achievement that Laika Entertainment can claim in their chosen field.

Kubo and the Two Strings is a heroic adventure influenced by ancient Japanese myth. Young Kubo (Art Parkinson) has been brought up in a seaside cave by his mother, who tells tales of how she saved him from her father, the Moon King, in an escape that cost Kubo one of his eyes and left her in a faltering mental state. Despite her warnings not to stay out after dark, one mistake leads to them being discovered by her menacing sisters (Rooney Mara), and, joined by a protective Monkey (Charlize Theron) and a dim-witted Beetle (Matthew McConaughey), Kubo is launched on a mystical quest to find his father’s lost armor, his only hope of survival.

Of course, the film’s most immediately remarkable trait is its animation. For once, Laika’s animation isn’t set on the creepy or grotesque, leaving such weirdness to only a few unnerving threats along Kubo’s journey (such as a preoccupation with eyes, also seen in Coraline). The freedom of the camera to capture all kinds of angles and both sweeping vistas and carefully crafted details sets the animation bar so high that only Laika will probably be able to outdo themselves in the future.

Despite the eerie effect that usually accompanies stop motion, Kubo and the Two Strings succeeds in balancing a variety of tones, from light and humorous during Beetle’s introduction to poignant during the mother’s backstory to absolutely wondrous when Kubo unleashes his magical shamisen (Japanese banjo) that controls origami puppets for his live performances. The plot may veer into some odd territory as it progresses, but Kubo and the Two Strings is aware of it, even encouraging viewers to hang with it in Kubo’s opening address. In doing so, the audience is taken on a dazzling ride with some darker-than-usual plot directions.

Alas, Kubo is not without some faults. Kubo admits to not being very good at ending his stories, and the filmmakers mirror that shortcoming to some extent. The final confrontation between Kubo and the Moon King is a bit randomly overblown with sentiment, and the resolution feels strange and manipulative, especially considering the importance the film places on memories. In a way, I see what the filmmakers were attempting, but they weren’t wholly successful. In addition, describing the Moon King as a celestial ruler of cold perfection might be seen as a criticism of God, but its basis in myth softens that objection, especially if compared with the cold “perfection” of other villains, like the Borg in Star Trek. Nevertheless, these complaints don’t ruin an otherwise outstanding film, and even if the ending could have been improved, I liked how the seemingly awkward title was given touching significance.

In an age of remakes and constant adaptations, Kubo stands out first and foremost as a work of pure originality. Animated films like The Secret Life of Pets are content to borrow other movies’ plot elements wholesale, but the folks at Laika have crafted something unique and presented audiences with sights they’ve never seen before. In a perfect world, that’s what a great film should do.

Best line: (Kubo, at the start of his stories) “If you must blink, do it now.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2016 S.G. Liput
418 Followers and Counting

 

Finding Dory (2016)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Pixar

 

Not knowing where you’re headed
Or even where you’re from
Can lead you to frontiers remote
And thrills to keep yourself afloat
And friends you never thought you’d meet,
And yet you still feel incomplete.
You may seem empty-headed,
But none should think you dumb.

With memories returning
And hopes you can’t subdue,
You may pursue the past one day
In hopes that what you lost will stay.
The blanker slate is worry-free,
But most would fill it happily.
The answer to your yearning
Is waiting there for you.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG

Of all the studios churning out unnecessary sequels to films widely considered untouchable, I trust Pixar the most. Finding Nemo is one of my most beloved films, animated or not, and when a sequel is announced for one of your favorites, I think most people are torn between excitement and fear of disappointment. I wanted Finding Dory to be good, but how could it compare to the original? Luckily, as they’ve proven in every case but Cars 2, Pixar isn’t content to drop the ball for sequels and managed to create a worthwhile story dedicated to everyone’s favorite forgetful fish.

From the very beginning, as the adorable short film Piper segues to an equally adorable baby Dory, Finding Dory cleverly builds a film based entirely on a single line from the first film: Dory’s brief mention of family and the quickly forgotten question “Where are they?” It seemed like a throwaway gag at the time, but Dory is no throwaway character. We see in repeated flashbacks how her parents (Diane Keaton and Eugene Levy) struggled to train and encourage her to overcome her short-term memory loss, and the separation that follows highlights what a disability it is. As hilarious as Dory’s antics are, I never really considered how vulnerable and directionless her condition made her. It’s no wonder that Marlin’s mission filled such a void in her life, and now it’s his and Nemo’s turn to help Dory find her own family, which happens to lead them to the Marine Life Institute in California.

One thing that should be said of Finding Dory is that Pixar has not limited themselves for believability. A gleeful absurdity runs through many parts and particularly during the hilarious climax, not unlike the off-the-wall creativity in Inside Out. But whereas that was inside a girl’s head, this is ostensibly the real world, and a greater suspension of disbelief is required as fish jump between every body of water in sight, big or small. Most examples can be easily overlooked, but it is odd that the first film made an epic quest out of the distance between the Great Barrier Reef and Sydney, while this one transports the characters from Australia to California within minutes. I guess the destination is more important than the journey in this case. Other questions abound, like “Do whale sharks really speak whale (when they are actual sharks, not whales)?” and “Does underwater echolocation really work outside the water too?” But if you just roll with the filmmakers’ indulgences, none of these should affect one’s enjoyment.

The animation is just as spectacular as the first film’s and greater in many cases, especially a first-person slide-away that heightens the trauma of the moment. Seeing the diversely populated exhibits at the institute reminded me of the wonder I always relished whenever I’d visit an aquarium as a kid. That was always my favorite kind of field trip, and Finding Dory reminded me how much I miss those visits, though I have an entirely new view of those innocent little touch pools. The voice cast is also superb, between the return of Ellen DeGeneres as Dory and Albert Brooks as Marlin, and the addition of a host of supporting players, from barking sea lions (Idris Elba and Dominic West) to the grumpy octopus Hank (Ed O’Neill), whose lithe acrobatics facilitate most of the out-of-water experiences. My VC can’t stand the sight of octopi, and while she has yet to see Finding Dory, I’m hoping Hank will alleviate her dislike a bit. I would have liked a little more backstory for him (Could the next movie be Finding Hank?), but he’s a welcome addition, especially on a visual level.

In a way, Finding Dory is like a much improved version of what Cars 2 attempted: giving a popular side character the spotlight to have an adventure of their own and affirm their worth. But whereas Cars 2 had little to say about Mater other than “he’s a lovable idiot so love him,” Dory’s situation has far more depth and empathy. Essentially a fish version of Leonard from Memento without the benefit of tattoos, she’s a constantly rebooting blank slate whose desire to remember is both heartbreaking and warmly resolute. Even if I don’t quite agree with her assertion that “the best things happen by chance,” Dory remains as endearing and sincere a presence as ever.

I won’t try to pretend that Finding Dory is as good as its predecessor, but I’ve seen Finding Nemo countless times. I remember crowing with laughter at Dory speaking whale, yet when you know a film practically by heart, sometimes it loses something and you wish you could see it again for the first time. Above all, Finding Dory let me laugh-out-loud with these characters again and many new ones besides. For example, I never expected Pixar to pull off such a hilarious parody of a scene from Alien and the unrelated casting of Sigourney Weaver just made it better. Finding Dory filled in gaps I didn’t think needed answering and brought me somewhat of that same feeling I had watching the first film as a ten-year-old. If a sequel had to be made, I’m glad it was this one.

Best line: (Dory) “Sigourney Weaver is going to help us!”

 

Rank: List-Worthy (joining Finding Nemo)

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput
405 Followers and Counting

 

The Peanuts Movie (2015)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family

 

Once upon a time there lived a boy named Charlie Brown,
Who everybody liked until he gave them cause to frown;
For Charlie Brown was quick to frown and sadly slow to smile,
And had the same effect on all his class’s rank and file.

Whenever his attempts at triumph went from bad to worse
And friends would laugh about his gaffe, he’d blame the universe.
Yet those who knew him well enough had faith in Charlie Brown
And knew that there would come a day he wouldn’t be let down.

Every foolish down-and-out and football-missing goof
Believes the talk of failure, thinking they are living proof.
Yet even then the heavy-hearted, unimpressive mourner
Should know that every failure still has Someone in his corner.
____________________

MPAA rating: G

With so many old properties being revamped and rebooted in ways no one ever asked for or wanted, it’s easy to imagine a modern version of Charles Schulz’s Peanuts comic strip going off the rails. I shudder at the thought of some misguided writer combining Charlie Brown and Linus with smartphones and hip hop in a sad attempt at making them accessible to today’s youth. Yet, thankfully, someone thought better of it; that’s why The Peanuts Movie is such a wonder. Not only is it extremely faithful to its source material, but it effortlessly captures the charm of the classic cartoons. Like them, its appeal seems timeless, and there aren’t many animated films these days that fit that description.

Blue Sky Studios has found a nice balance between the original 2D and more recent 3D animation; it allows the same character appearances and comic-strip-style reaction lines while adding depth to their surroundings. The updated look is both vintage and current, working well for the everyday antics of the kids and bringing Snoopy’s WWI flying-ace dream sequences to a thrilling new level.

Luckily, though, the animation is really all that has been brought into the 21st century. There’s still the gentle pessimism of lovable Charlie Brown, the wise counsel of Linus, the goofy antics of Snoopy and Woodstock, the bossy hostility of Lucy, the distinct quirks of their various friends. While Linus’s religiosity has been dropped and the humor is more fast-paced, it all feels of a piece with the classic cartoons of the ‘60s and ‘70s, capturing their spirit better than the more recent 2D attempts on TV. Yet, as episodic as it seems at times, the filmmakers created a perfect connection among Charlie Brown’s misadventures: his attempts to impress the Little Red-Haired Girl in his class. I don’t remember the old Charlie Brown ever being as industrious (reading War and Peace in one weekend?!) or as kind as he is here (Snoopy too for that matter), but even with his classmates’ teasing, it’s clear what a role model the movie’s Charlie Brown is.

Throughout the film, I felt it was charming and likable, but it wasn’t until the end that I realized how much I truly admired The Peanuts Movie. Fans of the original specials will surely feel more of a connection with it, but it’s a film with all the earmarks of an instant classic, perhaps not a laugh-out-loud favorite, but a bit of warm nostalgia worth watching for years to come. It’s easily the best film Blue Sky has ever created and one I would feel proud to watch with kids of my own someday.

Best line: (Charlie Brown) “You’ve got to help me, Linus! I’m not sure I can handle being partners with the Little Red-Haired Girl! How will I support her? I can’t afford a mortgage! What if I’m put into escrow?”   (Linus) “Charlie Brown, you’re the only person I know who can turn a simple book report into a lifelong commitment.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput
404 Followers and Counting