No Game No Life: Zero (2017)

Tags

Action, Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy, Romance, War

Is life not a game
Where there’s no one to blame
If the rules seem unfair
And the ends are the same?

You’re tempted to quit,
Raise your hands in forfeit,
For the game doesn’t care
Where the losers will sit.

But wait! None will mind
The misfits of mankind,
For the arrogant player
Is conveniently blind.

Who heeds the has-been
When his triumphs begin?
Those who haven’t a prayer
In the game can still win.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

Although I’ve come to really enjoy anime movies over the last several years, I’d never seen an anime film in the theater. Thus, it was a special treat to see No Game No Life: Zero on the big screen, especially with it being such a visually spectacular film. After being impressed by the trailers for months before its July opening in Japan, I thought for sure I’d have to wait perhaps a year before I’d get to see an American release, so I’m grateful to Sentai Filmworks and Fathom Events for distributing the English dub so quickly.

I wouldn’t doubt that non-anime fans have no idea what No Game No Life is. It’s a series of Japanese light novels, but most in the West would know it from the anime adaptation that is surprisingly popular for having only a single twelve-episode season. It centers on the gaming prowess of eighteen-year-old Sora and his eleven-year-old stepsister Shiro, two genius-level shut-ins who are transported by the god of games Tet to a fantasy world where all conflicts are decided by wagering on games of any kind. Humanity (known as Imanity in this world) is the lowest and least powerful of all the fantasy races, so Sora and Shiro take it upon themselves to lift up the humans and conquer the world through the likes of chess, word chain, and first-person shooters. Just as WarGames fans say “Shall we play a game?”, No Game No Life fans say “Aschente,” the mutual pledge before starting a game.

The show itself is played mainly for laughs and to marvel at the Sherlock-level strategy and foresight the siblings command even when at a disadvantage, but it boasts a broader fantasy appeal too, especially with unseen backstory about a horrific war that only ended when Tet became god and made the world game-centric. The characters and situations are quite entertaining for the most part, though No Game No Life isn’t among my favorite series for one simple reason: fan service. There’s plenty of sexual harassment, near-nudity, and risqué humor, mainly from Sora, and while much of it is funny, a lot is just uncomfortable and annoying. Plus, I’m not usually a fan of the kind of anime with silly faces and exaggerated reactions (I know that’s the majority of anime), which is why I lean more toward dramatic series or movies, which are usually easier to take seriously.

That’s why I was so eager to see No Game No Life: Zero, a film centering on an extended flashback of the pre-Tet war, a subject which lends itself to much more drama and emotion, and indeed the film is a complete contrast from the humorous tone of the series. (By the way, the Zero in the title seems to be an example of the naming convention for works that are connected yet somehow separate from an established series [e.g. Fate/Zero, Steins;Gate 0, etc.].) No Game No Life is notable, and sometimes disliked, for its hypersaturated colors, boasting more bright hues than a Crayola factory, and while the movie retains the same style, it limits its palette more to complement the darker storyline. Instead of the shiny fantasy land into which Sora and Shiro are literally dropped, this war-torn world 6000 years earlier is dominated by reddened skies and skin-burning ash, leaving no doubt as to humanity’s desperation, caught in the crossfire between the more powerful magical races. Just look at the contrast between the worlds below, the first from the show, the second from the film.

Although there’s still a lot left unseen, the film wonderfully expands our knowledge of the war, showing us why the modern-day races still hate each other. Jibril, an immortal angel-like creature called a Flugel, was one of the best characters on the show, conceited and charming at the same time, but her appearance in the film fits the description of an “angel of death,” proving that those memories of slaughter she fondly reminisces about in the show were not exaggerated. The film also intentionally echoes the series with its “new” character designs. Riku, the leader of the remaining humans, looks a lot like Sora, just as Shuvi, an Ex Machina android intent on learning the value of the human heart, looks much like Shiro. (They’re even voiced by the same voice actors in the excellent English dub that I saw.) The main design difference may be that their hair colors are reversed, but these new characters have their own personalities and griefs that set them apart from their later incarnations, and instead of a brother and sister relationship, theirs is destined for love. I will say it takes a certain amount of disconnect from the series to accept a romance between two characters who look like the siblings we know, but the film spends a good amount of time developing their relationship, even if it starts on a very awkward note.

The trailers mainly focused on the romance angle and an epic fight between Shuvi and Jibril, but I was glad to see that the movie does explain the war’s formerly vague resolution. Instead of the explicit games of the series, the game concept, along with humanity’s struggle, becomes more of a running theme as the characters engage in a literal game of “Global Thermonuclear War.” Some have complained about the pacing of the movie’s final third, but that’s where I thought it truly found its stride and consistently impressed. I loved the way victory is snatched from apparent defeat, utilizing the fact that the Ex Machina are a lot like the Borg from Star Trek, and the sad circumstances became sublimely bittersweet by the end. It spoke to how the most important people in history often remain unsung heroes, their names sometimes only remembered by God.

No Game No Life: Zero was a pleasure to watch in the theater, especially because it elevated the series it was based on, focusing on the fantasy with just a taste of the original’s humor and chucking the unnecessary fan service. (There’s still some stylized nudity, but it’s more forgivable here.) The animation is particularly stunning, especially during that epic battle I mentioned, and the score beautifully enhanced the emotions of each scene, with the lovely ending theme “There Is a Reason” earning entrance into my End Credits Song Hall of Fame.  By the end, as the film tied itself directly into where the series left off, I even found myself feeling surprisingly nostalgic and fond for a show I thought I only moderately liked. Many think this film is a prelude for a potential second season, and the movie will certainly strengthen that hope. No Game No Life may be a series I wouldn’t quite recommend to everyone, but, with the right background information, this movie is. (By the way, I’ve included the first teaser trailer down below to give a taste of the awesome animation and music.)

Best line: (Riku) “Yes, humans are fools, but it takes a great fool to not let that foolishness get themselves killed.”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2017 S.G. Liput
516 Followers and Counting

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The Red Turtle (2016)

Tags

Animation, Drama, Fantasy, Foreign, Romance

Shall I sit here all alone
And wait for death to call me home?
Now that I am stranded here,
Have worth and meaning flown?

Shall I push uphill my stone
And watch it roll back down and groan
And wish that life had chanced to veer
Somewhere less sorrow-prone?

Perhaps I’ll work myself to bone
And die unloved and thus unknown,
But if somebody could appear
And comfort give to persevere,
I’d gladly bear my daily stone
With one to call my own.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG

This review is my contribution to the Colours Blogathon hosted by Catherine of Thoughts All Sorts, focusing on all manner of movies with colorful titles. I chose The Red Turtle not only for the color in its name, but because I was curious about this feature-length silent film that earned an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Feature when Your Name didn’t. Now that I’ve seen it, I completely agree that it deserved such an honor because this story of a shipwrecked man stranded on an island is a piece of cinematic art. So many cartoons these days rely on hyperactive humor that something like The Red Turtle is an anomalous reminder that animation can offer compelling stories without jokes or even words through simple mastery of the medium, allowing silence to make it universal.

The beautifully simple animation is the product of a collaboration between Dutch director Michaël Dudok de Wit, winner of the 2001 Animated Short Film Oscar for the lovely Father and Daughter, and the not-yet-defunct Studio Ghibli. I’m still surprised at Ghibli’s involvement because The Red Turtle has no resemblance to anime, except maybe in the attention to natural detail, yet I’m reminded that anime is not limited by the usual big-eyed style. The Oscar-winning short film La Maison en Petits Cubes has a European aesthetic similar to The Red Turtle, but, despite the French name, it was a Japanese production. So you could say that The Red Turtle is a best of both worlds, combining the visual imaginations of its animators in a surprisingly accessible, almost watercolor style.

Silent animation is usually the realm of short films, and it must have been a risk to protract what could have been vastly shortened to a feature-length story. Those with short attention spans will likely be bored by the third raft-making attempt, but the patient should find the narrative rewarding in its ambiguity. As with Cast Away, actions speak louder than words, and the painterly animation is so superb in its simplicity that I was rarely bored. It’s all in the details, like the humorous characterization of the crabs watching the man’s efforts or the lush island greenery swaying in the breeze, and the realistic water is worth particular praise, whether serene on the horizon or violent in its outbursts.

I don’t want to say much about the actual plot since it’s best experienced with the intended visuals to tell the story, but it very much fits its description as a fable, a seemingly straightforward tale that can be appreciated on its surface or on a deeper, more symbolic level. The Red Turtle itself remains something of an enigma, even as it becomes a profoundly important part of the castaway’s life, infusing the film and its ending with a bittersweet emotion that is strongly felt, if not fully understood.

So, yes, The Red Turtle is absolutely Oscar-worthy and, if not for last year’s hefty competition, might well have won. Why couldn’t a film like this come out in 2006 or 2011, when Disney/Pixar wasn’t a shoo-in? I suppose I can now turn my blame on My Life as a Zucchini (the only nominee I haven’t yet seen) for Your Name’s lack of nomination last year because The Red Turtle is more than deserving. Despite its slow narrative that could have been a short film, it’s a piece of modern art that is becoming rarer and rarer in the world of feature-length animation.

Best line:  (the man’s only line) “Heeeeey!”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
506 Followers and Counting

 

Ink (2009)

Tags

Drama, Fantasy

Dreams in the night
Carry darkness or light
Into minds at the height of their delicacy.
Deep in our slumber,
Charades without number
Parade through our heads, entertainment for free.

They charm us and threaten
With visions they let in,
But who holds the keys to such reveries sown?
What nightmare dimensions
With clashing intentions
Have displaced our thoughts with ideas of their own?
____________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (should be R, mainly for language)

After ranking Ink at #11 on my Top Twelve Underrated Movies, I thought I should give this low-budget cult hit a full-fledged review. Written and directed by independent auteur Jamin Winans, Ink is so many things at once that it’s hard to classify it. It’s a fantasy about the clashes between invisible forces of good and evil. It’s a redemption tale of a father returning to his estranged daughter’s life. It’s a visually inventive head trip following a monster’s kidnapping of a girl’s soul. How it merges all these disparate components into a mostly cohesive and surprisingly meaningful whole is quite the experience, one that doesn’t let its budget limitations hinder it too much.

Chris Kelly plays John Sullivan, the father I mentioned, whose wife’s death caused him to lose contact with his daughter Emma (Quinn Hunchar), whom he kept at arm’s length even when they were together. Bitter, he throws himself into his work, not even caring when she later falls into a coma. This side of the story is fairly down-to-earth, but the reason for Emma’s coma goes off into an ever more ambitious dark fantasy. For starters, there are Storytellers, invisible spirits who disseminate sweet dreams like the Sandman from Rise of the Guardians, and Incubi, creepy screen-faced baddies who plant disturbing nightmares. Amidst this nightly battle, a hulking creature named Ink dressed in black rags steals Emma, or rather her spirit, from her bed and plans to trade her to the Incubi.

On one hand, you can tell it’s a low-budget production. The camerawork lacks the Hollywood polish we’ve come to expect, and some of the effects look like they’re from a Disney Channel movie. Yet the film continually manages to impress where it counts. For example, Ink’s initial confrontation with the Storytellers trying to save Emma has some amazingly well-choreographed action, with the unique twist of time rewinding to return every smashed object to its original condition. This is the spirit world, after all. Likewise, the editing ranges from overly jerky at times to downright brilliant during an exceptional scene where an eccentric “Pathfinder” (Jeremy Make) creates an unforeseen chain reaction that ties in to an earlier scene. It reminded me a lot of that sequence from The Curious Case of Benjamin Button where the narrator describes all the little cause-and-effects that brought about an accident.

Sadly, Ink is occasionally spoiled by some strong language, mostly from Chris Kelly (his first line is a tantrum of F-bombs), and I do feel it could earn a wider audience without it since the rest is grim but not overly objectionable. I also thought a few characters were trying too hard to be eccentric at times. Plus, a certain revelation might bend time and minds a bit too much to make total sense, but it’s a twist that has kept me thinking since and adds enormous layers to the film’s narrative.

I don’t know how Jamin Winans views God and religion since they’re never explicitly brought up here, though his next film The Frame seems to regard God as an absentee controller. Yet, there are several scenes in Ink that hold strong spiritual meaning, especially the Best Line below that seems to sum up how God sees his broken creation. The Storytellers are easily compared to angels as well, as the Incubi are to demons whispering hate and pride into people’s minds, and I loved a climactic scene toward the end that switches back and forth between the calm mortal world that John sees and an intense, invisible battle happening all around him. I wouldn’t doubt such unknown struggles happen every day between good and evil.

Oh, yeah, how could I forget the reason I discovered Ink, namely its moving score by Winans himself, which I heard in a collection of movie soundtracks. It’s a perfect atmospheric accompaniment to the film and its emotion, and one notable track called “The City Surf” was even sampled as “Into the Fray” in the film The Grey. As I said, Ink’s plot has multiple layers to peel back, ranging from flashbacks to metaphors and symbols to varying the level of color depending on the world shown, all of which add up to a profound reflection on life, death, and regret. It’s a film that sticks in the mind long after it’s over, which has understandably earned it a 100% on Rotten Tomatoes. It’s clever and well-crafted proof of the potential of indie filmmaking, causing me to wish that it had the overall technical quality to match its ambition. I’ve said it before, but someone get Winans a bigger budget!

Best line: (Ink) “I am ruined, why can’t you see that?”   (Liev, a Storyteller) “Because I choose to see you for what you were intended to be, not what you’ve become.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
506 Followers and Counting

 

2017 Blindspot Pick #8: Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959)

Tags

Classics, Disney, Family, Fantasy, Romance

That jolly ol’ Darby O’Gill
At the pub would be drinking his fill,
Earning chuckles and yawns
Telling of leprechauns,
Half-believed out of simple good will.

Not caring what doubters may think,
Darby’d go home at last with a wink,
To natter and sing
With the leprechaun king,
And together they too shared a drink.
_________________

MPAA rating: G

Live-action Disney movies tend to fall into two categories: childhood-shaping classics (Mary Poppins, Homeward Bound, Swiss Family Robinson) and severely lame duds (The Shaggy Dog, The Million Dollar Duck, The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes). I wasn’t sure which one Darby O’Gill and the Little People would fit in, but I’d gladly place it in the first group, though I doubt this obscure little gem is shaping many childhoods nowadays.

Apparently based on two books by Herminie Templeton Kavanagh, Darby O’Gill feels as genuinely Irish as The Quiet Man but with a more fantastical basis in Irish folklore. Albert Sharpe is a folksy joy as Darby, a good ol’ boy and father of young Katie (Janet Munro of Swiss Family Robinson) in the town of Rathcullen, who loves to recount his stories of leprechaun interactions with everyone at the local pub. They may only half-believe him, but he’s still a beloved member of the community, which sticks up for him against the mocking of the local brute Pony Sugrue (Kieron Moore), who reminded me a lot of Gaston in Beauty and the Beast, just as Darby is like a more respected version of Maurice. After his job is handed off to a younger man (Sean Connery, so young he barely looks or sounds like the Connery I know), Darby has another run-in with the king of the leprechauns Brian Connors (Jimmy O’Dea) and finagles three wishes that might not turn out as he’d hoped.

Darby O’Gill and the Little People has a lot of the charm of other Disney movies from that era, just with a healthy Irish zest that makes you want to dance a jig and crave shepherd’s pie. At times, the Irish brogues are a little thick to fully understand without subtitles, but for the most part, it adds to the authenticity, as does the music, which consists only of a sweet little ballad and an epic but slightly overlong fiddle dance. The special effects, for the most part, are also well-done, consisting mostly of shrinking the leprechauns to be only as tall as Darby’s knees, a visual trick that reminded me of the miniaturized hobbits in The Lord of the Rings. Also effective is the more dated creation of a ghostly banshee and death-coach-driving dullahan; Disney movies have their fair share of nightmare fuel, but I can easily see one scene in particular terrifying the very young.

Most people may not have seen or even heard of Darby O’Gill and the Little People, but that’s a bit of a shame. Where else can you get to see Sean Connery croon about his sweetheart? I especially liked the good-natured rivalry between Darby and Brian and the twist at the end that builds nicely on what came before and rounds it out for a satisfying end. If it were a modern movie, I’d say that Darby O’Gill doesn’t quite do enough with its fanciful concept, perhaps because the special effects could be better utilized, but as an Irish jaunt from yesteryear, it’s an underrated Disney classic that may well have earned placement on my List if I’d seen it as a kid.

Best line: (Darby, of his daughter Katie) “She should be the caretaker. She’s got a tongue would clip a hedge.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
506 Followers and Counting

 

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

 

2017 Blindspot Pick #7: In Your Eyes (2014)

Tags

Drama, Fantasy, Romance

Loneliness can be your lot
And leave you empty and distraught,
Even when alone you’re not
In daily life’s ordeal.
For life seems like an afterthought
When no one else knows how you feel.

But then the loneliness can fade,
No longer stressed, no more afraid,
When love more real cuts through charade,
And lonely souls are paired.
For newer joys are worth the trade
When feelings, thoughts, and love are shared.
_____________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (could have been PG-13, but more R due to periodic profanity and some sensuality)

I chose In Your Eyes as one of my Blindspots because of the positive reviews I’d seen from some of my fellow bloggers, and my interest was further piqued by comparisons to last year’s anime hit Your Name. Whereas Your Name involves two strangers actually switching bodies, In Your Eyes features a telepathic (or more accurately, empathic) link between two random people on opposite sides of the country. Based on a decades-in-the-making screenplay by Joss Whedon and directed by Brin Hill, this supernatural romance certainly has its odd parts but incorporates a lot of what I love about the genre.

The two leads are played by Cloverfield’s Michael Stahl-David and Ruby Sparks’ Zoe Kazan, the former as a New Mexico parolee named Dylan and the latter as a New Hampshire trophy wife named Rebecca. Little do they know that they have shared a mental link since childhood, when one’s sledding accident somehow affected them both, but suddenly, it becomes strong enough to allow them to converse with each other and see what the other is seeing. I was a bit annoyed at first that there was no explanation or trigger to the sudden strengthening of their bond, aside from “Why not?” But then I recalled that Your Name didn’t have a very clear reason either, so it’s perhaps best to just roll with it since these cosmic movie connections are hard to clarify in reality.

Despite being separated for most of the film, Kazan and Stahl-David have engaging chemistry to spare. Their long-distance conversations feel natural to us since it’s as if they’re talking on the phone, but to everyone else, it looks like they’re talking to themselves or suffering bizarre outbursts that elicit worry and sideways glances from those nearby. (My VC actually thought it was stupid that they kept talking to each other out loud with no thought to how crazy they looked to others.) As with Taki and Mitsuha in Your Name, they learn a lot about each other, from past stresses to present foibles, through the rare opportunity of vicariously witnessing the other’s life. I especially liked how one tends to comment on what’s happening to the other, a voice in the head they have to try to ignore, like the hologram Al from Quantum Leap.

Also worth noting are the direction and cinematography, which infuse many scenes with a luminous quality that enhances the enchantment of their unusual bond. The contrasting settings also heighten the distance between them, from Dylan’s orange desert to Rebecca’s blue-tinged snowscapes. The editing does well in visualizing their shared feelings, culminating in a bizarre but sensual bedroom scene. (Is there even a word for that? Long-distance intimacy?)

As much as I enjoyed both the romance and fantasy aspects, I must admit I didn’t love In Your Eyes quite as much as I’d hoped. It isn’t just the lack of explanation or the oddness of the very concept. The climax builds to a satisfying final scene, but all the events leading up to it are left open-ended, making me think there will be lots of unaddressed bumps on the road to a happy ending. Plus, as good as In Your Eyes is, I think Your Name did a similar story better, just as it did with The Lake House. Even so, In Your Eyes deserves a lot more attention than the few bloggers who have tried to promote it. For any fan of unorthodox romance or extramundane relationships, it’s definitely worth your time.

Best line: (Rebecca, realizing who she’s talking to the first time) “Wait, you’re real. You’re a real person!”   (Dylan) “Oh, that’s the sweetest thing anybody’s said to me all day.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
497 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

 

Harvey (1950)

Tags

Comedy, Drama, Fantasy

Imaginary friends are such
That we don’t miss them very much
And so forget the joy that comes
From pals we cannot see or touch.

The fanciful are easy to mock.
We question sanity and gawk,
But everyone needs someone else
With whom to drink and laugh and talk.

And what the “sane” perhaps don’t see
In what we call imaginary
Is something we too often miss
In our mundane reality.
__________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (easily G)

I watched Harvey for two main reasons: (1) It’s one of those universally liked classics that all fans of film should or feel like they should see, and (2) I love Jimmy Stewart, who earned an Oscar nomination for the kind of role that doesn’t initially seem worthy of an Oscar. As Elwood P. Dowd, he’s a genial, soft-spoken alcoholic happy to while away the hours visiting the bar and inviting strangers home for dinner. The trouble is that he’s utterly sincere in his friendship with a six-foot-plus invisible rabbit by the obvious name of Harvey.

While I have been familiar with the basic concept of Harvey for years, I didn’t know what to expect from the actual storyline. My VC had seen it long ago and remembered it as vaguely weird, and that was largely my opinion through the first half, or the first two-thirds really. Dowd obliviously walks around introducing acquaintances to his large unseen pal, while his sister Veta (Oscar-winning Josephine Hull) and his niece (Victoria Horne) bemoan the damage this does to their social reputation and vow to lock him away in a sanitarium. There are plenty of comical misadventures for secondary characters that drive the plot, most of which Dowd remains heedless of, and I found myself more annoyed than amused that much of the humor relied on misunderstandings that could easily be solved by a simple turn of the head or a more careful choice of words.

Yet, the latter third of the film places Dowd’s potential “mental illness” into a wider context of fantasy vs. reality and dull normalcy vs. eccentric kindness. Whereas what came before was simply Dowd’s peculiar routine, which seemed deranged to the outside eye, Stewart gives him more depth with some simple but keenly heartfelt conversations that make the prospect of an invisible pooka more enviable than pitiable. While Hull’s busybody panic and Stewart’s sincerity make the most of a rather uninvolving beginning/middle, the end helped me see Harvey’s classic appeal. It will never be among my favorites, but, like Dowd himself, it had a gentle charm and was, above all, “pleasant.”

Best line: (Aunt Veta, to her niece) “Myrtle Mae, you have a lot to learn, and I hope you never learn it.”

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
494 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

 

Wonder Woman (2017)

Tags

Action, Drama, Fantasy, Superhero, Thriller, War

I wonder what wonders the world has beheld:
More than seven, no doubt,
More than those learned about,
But must they be spectacles unparalleled,
Gloried feats unsurpassed,
Or more simply contrast?

A light among shadows, a gem among stones,
An unshakable stand
Against failure’s demand,
A rare certainty in a world of unknowns,
An encouraging word
That despair hasn’t heard,

A dream among cynics, a float in rough water,
Shooting stars overhead
When all hope was thought dead,
A lamb among wolves with no worry of slaughter—
The world’s wonders don’t last,
But the weak and steadfast
Can find hope in contrast.
_______________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

I honestly never thought I’d see a DC movie on its opening weekend, but a half-planned trip to the theater left Wonder Woman as the most convenient show time available, and the positive reviews I’d heard convinced my VC and me to give it a try. I had come to the conclusion that the DC Extended Universe (DCEU) is a lost cause, with Man of Steel, Batman v. Superman, and Suicide Squad being either unwieldy, joyless, or overblown. Yet here at last is Wonder Woman, helmed by Patty Jenkins, the first female director of a major superhero film, and DC finally gets a movie that can hold its own against Marvel.

I’ll admit I don’t know much about Wonder Woman from the comics and only ever saw her as a member of the animated Justice League on TV, as well as her animated origin film from 2009. The latest live-action movie begins much like its cartoon counterpart, with the Princess Diana (Gal Gadot) of the Amazons residing on the hidden island of Themyscira, training to be a great warrior, until the crash-landing of American pilot Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) awakens her sense of duty and interest in the outside world. Unlike the animated version set in the modern day, 2017’s Wonder Woman has the key difference of taking place during World War I, making its retro setting more than a little reminiscent of Captain America: The First Avenger. (Her origin apparently took place during World War II in the comics, so I guess the change was intended to avoid being too similar to Cap’s first outing.) There are plenty of parallels, from an evil German antagonist (Danny Huston) with a diabolical scientist (Elena Anaya) under him to a climactic sacrifice involving a death-carrying plane, but there’s enough originality here that the similarities never detract from the story.

The best thing Wonder Woman has in its favor is Gal Gadot. Neither an overly familiar face nor a struggling newbie, she’s an effortlessly perfect fit for the role, her slight Israeli accent giving her an exotic touch while she nails the assertive and noble appeal of the character. She’s also attractive no matter what she does, whether in secretarial incognito or in the heat of battle. And speaking of battle, her first moment of truth fighting against the German army is spectacular, taking ownership of “No Man’s Land” with feats that Lynda Carter could only dream of. Alongside her, Chris Pine is his usual likable self, and while he can’t compare with Diana’s abilities, I liked that he was still an active and valiant match for her rather than a weakling to make her look better. Plus, in contrast to Batman and Superman of late, there’s actually some humor, perhaps not at Marvel’s levels, but it’s refreshing that DC seems to have learned something from the competition. (Suicide Squad may have had more jokes, but it’s a barely connected oddity as far as I’m concerned.)

As much as I enjoyed what is clearly DC’s best film to date, it’s not above a few nitpicks, such as stereotypical villains and one scene with some cynically feminist jabs as Steve and Diana awkwardly discuss sex and marriage. Most of the climactic battle has the same excessive bombast as the end of Batman v. Superman, which I guess is only a negative if you disliked it then. The strongest criticism for me is the muddy mythology that comes to a head toward the end. Wonder Woman has always drawn freely from Greek mythology, which works for the loose backstory at the beginning, and Diana understands Zeus to be man’s creator and Ares to be the corrupting god of war, roles that here distinctly echo the Christian God and devil. She’s convinced with apparent naiveté that Ares is controlling mankind to wage this Great War, and while her understanding is challenged and widened, it’s left in doubt by the end just how right she was and what that implies for history and religion in general.

If you don’t think about that too hard, though, Wonder Woman absolutely fulfills its potential as the first superheroine blockbuster, and my VC quite enjoyed it as well, even without having seen the previous DC entries. (Coincidentally, the very day I saw it, I came home to find the old 1970s TV show with Lynda Carter on, and compared with that cheese, the film is a masterpiece.) Aside from Gadot herself, I most appreciated the fact that this is a genuinely heroic tale of a warrior discerning why she defends mankind. Not many superhero movies tackle that topic so directly, and especially considering how DC has loused up even the most iconic of heroes, Superman, Wonder Woman’s experiences of both the evil and the noble that man is capable of provide her with a persuasive reason for her defense of the world, beyond the idealistic zeal that she and Captain America had from the start. Her gallantry and girl-power status as a role model are a far cry from the broody skepticism of Batman v. Superman or the psychopathic half-villainy of Suicide Squad, and this “light among shadows” seems to indicate that there might actually be hope for the DCEU yet, though I undoubtedly still prefer Marvel. Wonder Woman may not quite be an unqualified success, but it’s a welcome success nonetheless.

Best line: (Hippolyta, as Diana leaves the island, echoing many parents, I’m sure) “You are my greatest love. Today, you are my greatest sorrow.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
488 Followers and Counting