Getafilm Gallimaufry: Robin Hood, L'Enfant, Cruise's Curse, Toy Story 3, and The Two Escobars

Robin Hood (B+)

After too many months away from the movies I jumped in with both feet last week, starting with a big spring blockbuster that I didn't want to let get away from me on the big screen. In the last installment of Gallimaufry I declared my love for Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, as well as the Robin Hood brand as a whole. Out of the loop as I've been from the movies scene in 2010, I completely forgot that Ridley Scott's version was meant to be an introduction to the title character.

You could understand, then, why I was growing restless as the movie went on and on with only minor teases of the charm, wit, humor, and romance that I associated with Robin and his merry men. Ridley's crew was comprised of weathered patriots fighting a ruthless (and inexplicably baldheaded?) villain for the honor of King Richard's crown. Embarrassingly, I was left scratching my head all the way until the finale, after which a title card reminded us that "now the legend begins". Ahhh, that's right! I'm thickheaded like that sometimes.

REVIEW: 2010 Oscar Animated Shorts

Viewing the Oscar Animated Shorts in the theater has become a favorite February ritual of mine. It's enjoyable to watch them online, too, but there's something about the immersive theater experience that really makes these short films pop, even more so than feature length film. In these, every frame and every second counts, so the rich details are just jam packed into every corner of the screen.

Last year I didn't think there was any question as to which of the shorts was the best - La Maison en Petits Cubes, as I posted here numerous times, was the deserving winner. This year I'm not as confident either in the winner or even in my own opinion of what should win. Two of the films - A Matter of Loaf and Death and Logorama - stand out for their quality and creativity, respectively, so my guess is it will be one of those two, but whatever happens, here are my thoughts on the whole bunch. I've included trailers for most, but if they aren't at a theater near you I really urge you to find them online, not for the purposes of winning your Oscar pool, but because they really are astonishing achievements in animation.

Getafilm Gallimaufry: Amreeka, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Road, and Anticipating Avatar

[Note: This series includes scattered thoughts on various movie-related topics. I was looking for a word that started with the letter "g" that means collection or assortment, but lest you think I'm some elitist wordsmith, know that I'd never heard of "gallimaufry" and I don't even know how to say it, but it was the only other option the thesaurus provided aside from "goulash" (too foody) and "garbage" (no).]

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Amreeka (B)  

Amreeka doesn't show you anything you haven't seen before in the immigrant/cross-cultural dramedy genre (and it is a genre, or at least a developing one). But few immigrants' stories are identical, and dismissing Amreeka as "just another one of those immigrant movies" is about as short-sighted as, for example, assuming all Spanish-speaking immigrants are Mexicans. The fact is that Amreeka, while not entirely unique, still offers memorable insights into post-9/11 immigration in America, particularly for those families coming from the Middle East (in this case, Palestinians to Illinois).

The film was written and directed by Cherien Dabis, a young Palestinian-American filmaker recently named by Variety as one of "Ten Directors to Watch". Dabis certainly presents the film with the authority of someone who has experienced the story, and her screenplay is balanced with equal amounts of tragedy and comedy. While the narrative is somewhat inconsistent in terms of character development, you find yourself genuinely rooting for Munah and Fadi Farah from the first few minutes - a sign of thoughtful writing. I have to admit I'm a little tired of seeing Hiam Abbass worked to death as apparently the only woman of her age Hollywood ever thinks to cast as "Strong-willed Middle Eastern/Persian Woman #1", but she nonetheless delivers in her role every time. 

300 Words About: Ponyo

As a stand-alone painting this is beautiful, as a feature-length film it's incredible...

I probably should have kept my mouth shut a few months ago when I whined, " I fear we're going to lose the human element to animation". I knew both Ponyo and The Princess and The Frog were still on the way, but it seemed as if Coraline and Sita Sings the Blues were swift hammer strikes on the nails in the coffin of hand-drawn animation. After recently seeing Ponyo, I glad to have a renewed hope that someone, somewhere will continue to do this kind of work, and hopefully, Hayao Miyazaki will be one of those someones.

Honestly, I didn't really care for the Little Mermaid-inspired story of Ponyo (it seemed a little flat), but the nice thing about animated films, especially those from Miyazaki, is that the story can take a back seat to the storyboards. In this case, more than 100,000 vibrantly colorful, delicately hand-drawn storyboards. The resulting movements are so engrossing that you wish you could watch some sequences in slow-motion, or at the very least display some of the frames in art galleries.

For me, watercolor backgrounds and landscapes provide a nostalgic aura of fantasy and imagination, the sense of a place that that looks fuzzy on the screen but is perceived in your mind to be vividly clear and full of life. The sharp edges and modern flourishes of Pixar films are dazzlingly realistic, to be sure, but it's only in the hand-drawn style of Ponyo and older Disney films that my mind reverts back to childlike wonder. Both are enjoyable experiences, but the hand-drawn style has much more of a comfort food/warm blanket effect on me.

Which is why it will be sad if Ponyo doesn't do well at the box office here (it's already been another smash hit for Miyazaki in Japan), despite the voice talents of Matt Damon, Tina Fey, Liam Neeson and Cate Blanchett. American children are missing out on the experience of seeing something that doesn't resemble a video game; it draws them further into the story and, in my opinion, probably does more to bring out their own artistic interests. After all, all of those Pixar people grew up watching hand-drawn Disney movies.

If you haven't seen a Miyazaki film and you're curious about what to expect, feast your eyes on this:

Up: "You Know, That Disney Pixar Movie"

Carl recalls the days when a Disney movie was known as a "Disney movie"...

In the week or so since seeing Up, I've heard about a dozen people refer to it in conversation as "that Pixar movie", which, of course, it is. But it's also a Disney movie, officially, as all Pixar movies have been since Cars. There is a long and tumultuous relationship between Disney and Pixar, and if you don't know about it I'm not going to take the time to fill you in now, but I do urge you to track down and watch the excellent documentary The Pixar Story as soon as possible. The important point here is that "Disney-Pixar" is the agreed upon branding at this time, but "Pixar" is all that seems to matter - and all we should expect to matter from this point on.

Like millions of people, I grew up watching Disney movies. In fact the very first memory I have of seeing a movie in a theater is the rerelease of the classic Pinocchio in 1984, when I must have been three going on four years old. This was followed up over the next 10 years of my childhood by surely hundreds of viewings of Disney movies, culminating with what remains arguably my favorite (musically): Aladdin. Hours upon hours of my young life must have been spent watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Fantasia (also in its theatrical rerelease), Bambi, Dumbo, Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, Lady and the Tramp, 101 Dalmatians, Robin Hood, The Fox and the Hound, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, The Rescuers Down Under, and The Lion King, to name most of the popular animated ones. Additionally, I have fond memories of these live-action Disney movies: Mary Poppins, The Love Bug, Herbie Rides Again, Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo, Herbie Goes Bananas, Never Cry Wolf, Return to Oz, Flight of the Navigator, The Mighty Ducks, and Cool Runnings. All of these were produced and/or distributed by Disney, and they were cherished entertainment for the kids of my generation (note that we never saw these propagandic shorts) .

Then two things happened: 1.) I grew older, and 2.) Disney began a slow decline in both the quantity and quality of their original films, to the present state where the brand is almost meaningless. At least it's meaninglesst in the semi-tangible way that I once knew it: imaginative, original, durable, wholesome entertainment for children.

To be honest, these days I have to throw up my hands when thinking about what constitutes a Disney movie. The Princess Diaries? The Rookie? Remakes of both Freaky Friday and The Parent Trap? Pirates of the Caribbean? National Treasure? Howl's Moving Castle? Miracle? Glory Road? High School Musical? Invincible? The movies in The Chronicles of Narnia series? Hannah Montana? Meet the Robinsons? College Road Trip? Though I'm not making any judgment on the quality of these films (a few of them are even good), I have trouble reconciling them with the Disney movies of my childhood. They are still G- and PG-rated films made for families, but I fear the "Disney"-ness as I knew it is lacking from them, even if I can't exactly describe what that means. Am I alone here, or am I just missing the mark because I'm no longer the target demographic?

Either way, you could be forgiven for not realizing some of those were actually Disney movies. But then, without referencing an official list (from a tremendously helpful website) you might also not realize that Disney went from releasing one movie per year up until the early 1980's, then a few movies per year up until the early 1990's, to more than a dozen a year by the 2000's (exactly 12 last year, eight so far in 2009). Therein lies the rub: Disney grew too large in the last two decades, and in the process it diluted its own unique identity.

I realize I'm not breaking any news here to people who have been paying attention, and especially to those who know about the Pixar situation. But for whatever reason it wasn't until hearing so many people call Up "that Pixar movie" that the decline of Disney really hit home (even though the same phenomenon occurred with Wall-E last year). It's hard to complain when Pixar (excuse me, Disney-Pixar) continues to deliver such dazzlingly impressive films, yet a part of me fears that after this Christmas's The Princess and the Frog, Disney really will fall into a deep sleep, never to be woken again. Pixar is the Princess, and Disney is the Frog, and when lost in the memories of my childhood, well, I find that fact a little saddening.

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Incidentally, instead of reviewing the dreamy magnificence of Up (which I would now like to call La maison en petits ballons), I'll simply share my surprise that nobody else was reminded of La maison en petits cubes, the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, Oscar-winning animated short by Kunio Kato, he of "Domi arigato, Mr. Roboto" acceptance speech fame. Now, I realize 99% of people who have seen Up have not seen the short, but even those who have seen La maison apparently haven't noticed its similarity to the simultaneously intoxicating and heartbreaking montage of Carl and Ellie's marriage. Considering the set-up of the main character, the melancholic piano score, and even the use of a tree as a romantic rendezvous point, I'm baffled. (And it should go without saying that I'm not accusing one of copying the other; both obviously took years to develop.)

And so I leave it up to you now. When I reviewed the 2009 Oscar Animated Shorts I embedded this short and I'm not sure who was able to see it before it was taken down. I have once again found it but can not guarantee it will be around for long. I can imagine Kunio Kato is not happy about his film continuing to pop up online, but I consider the man a talented genius and I only hope that he can forgive my enthusiasm in showing his work to as many people as possible. Before or after your next viewing of Up (or, La maison en petits ballons), take twelve minutes in a quiet place and enjoy La maison en petits cubes (may take a moment to load):

Sita Sings the Computer Animated Blues?

While watching Sita Sings the Blues I was again revisited by a question that pops up everytime I see an animated movie: have computers completely taken over the realm of animation? If so, is that for the better or for the worse? If not, where does the imaginative human input end and the calculated computer software begin?

Let me clarify that I'm not criticizing Nina Paley's film. Quite the opposite - it's the most creative experiment I've seen in a long time, and it would be great if more filmmakers and artists let loose their imaginations in this way (many amateurs already do so in the form of YouTube mash-up videos, but they're never this witty or polished). But while acknowledging the brilliant style of Sita Sings the Blues, is there room to question the operational process of making animated films?

Paley, an accomplished cartoonist, reportedly worked alone on her Mac for five long years to develop Sita into a living, breathing feature-length film. There is evidence of this painstaking work in the perfect interplay of shapes and silhouettes and figures and lines and photos and music. But there's also evidence - obvious, glaring, undeniable evidence - that these elements were composed using Apple editing software. The lines measure a perfect 180 degrees, the circles an exact 360 degrees. The shapes move within and between frames smoothly as they expand and contract in the foreground and background. Eventually it all just looks too...well almost too perfect for my taste.

Consider the following stills from the film (a number of stills are available on the website):

(click to enlarge)

It's clear that Paley had to do a lot of detailed work in the top frame - five different figures of different shapes and sizes, as well as a variable background. My guess is that this particular segment of the film took a lot of time to design.

Conversely, in the bottom frame it's obvious that Paley simply cut and pasted the monkeys and the temples and the trees. Is this a cheating "shortcut"? Of course not - animated figures have been cloned for at least the past decade in all kinds of movies and TV shows, from "The Simpsons" to Shrek to "South Park" to WALL*E. That's the whole reason to use a computer in the first place.

But is something lost in translation when figures and backgrounds and shapes are perfect and symmetrical in every frame? In most cases I would say no, because in 2009 there is enough detail (look at any Pixar movie) to distract from noticing. But Sita Sings the Blues is 2-d animation, opaque and austere, and the clean choreography unfortunately reminded me of an iPod commercial, as well as a much more disastrous experiment: Tim Burton cloning Oompa-Loompas in his unforgivably bad Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The personality of the Loompas, and thus the spark of life within the factory, was completely lost from the original film (and from the book, for that matter).

I'm not saying that Sita Sings the Blues is lacking personality - that would be absurd. I'm just saying that while I loved Paley's creative use of music and figures, the animated sequences of her own life (below) actually felt much more alive to me. The crooked lines and uneven squiggly figures and funny dancing cat and sketched out city scenes popped off the screen, making the emotional bent in the story of her break-up that much stronger.

Sita Sings the Blues is an astoundingly animated, amusingly articulated film. It's brilliant. Paley's vision comes to the screen wonderfully, and she uses the "camera" like a skilled cinematographer, panning across reflected waters, utilizing fog and sunlight and moonlight, and in one of my favorite sequences, following Rama's arrow as it speeds toward its target, reminiscent of the same scene in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

But is that praise of the animation or the storyboarding? Would Sita Sings the Blues be any better if every frame were hand-drawn? Probably not in this case, and maybe it's a moot point anyway considering Paley created the entire movie without assistance from anyone; had she not taken any shortcuts it would have taken 10 years instead of five.

So where does that leave the future of animated films - will this December's The Princess and the Frog really be the last hand-drawn animated film ever? Perhaps, but while that may not be a bad thing (just imagine if WALL*E had been attempted without the power of animation software), somewhere down the road I fear we're going to lose the human element to animation. In a worst case scenario, future animated films will lack the warmth and personality of the "blemished" ones that are tucked away in my head, such as Pinocchio (incidentally the first movie I remember seeing in a theater). There's plenty of praise to sing about Sita right now, but the I wonder if blues really might be more appropriate in 15-20 years.

In the meantime, judge for yourself: Sita Sings the Blues can be legally viewed (and downloaded in high-res) in its entirety here.

REVIEW: 2009 Oscar Nominated Animated Shorts

This year I was once again able to see the five Best Animated Short Film nominees in the theater, which I still strongly recommend you do when they come to a theater near you, even though you can currently watch four of the five online. A bonus if you go to the theater, though - you get to see the five "highly commended" shorts that didn't make the cut as nominees: Varmints (UK), John and Karen (UK), Gopher Broke (U.S.), Skhizein (France), and Hot Dog (U.S.). Of these, John and Karen was possibly my favorite (watch it online). Varmints was visually arresting but a bit long at 24 minutes, and Skhizein was a Charlie Kaufman film from start to finish. The other two - both American films - were decent at best, unimaginative and immature at worst.

The nominees:

La Maison en Petits Cubes - (Japan, 12 min):

• My personal pick for the best of this year's bunch, La Maison en Petits Cubes is a heartbreaking and evocative story of an elderly man hanging on to a lifetime of memories as his house gradually floods. Animated in what appears to be watercolor or pencil, it also boasts one of the best musical scores I heard all year (short film or feature film), and it brought many in the theater to tears. Tragically, La Maison en Petits Cubes is the only one of the shorts currently unavailable for viewing online. Update: I found it - watch it here!  

 

Lavatory - Lovestory - (Russia, 10 min)

• A cute romantic story about a lovelorn public restroom attendant, this black-and-white sketched film is curiously captivating. It may be a minute or two longer than necessary, but the ending is a great payoff and I admire its simplicity.
  

Oktapodi - (France, 3 min)

• Short, sweet, and sharply edited, this screwball story of octopus love looked fantastic on the big screen. I'm sure there was a temptation to make this longer, but the filmmakers probably didn't want to run out of steam and lose the comedic momentum. If Finding Nemo hadn't already been made, it's possible this might have been stretched into a feature.
  

Presto - (U.S., 5 min)

• Most everyone who saw WALL*E in the theater has already had the pleasure of seeing Pixar's Presto. For me, the second time around wasn't nearly as funny. Cute rabbit, but a little too repetitive for my taste, and it seemed to be playing for cheap laughs more than anything else. I don't know, I guess I'm just a little annoyed that this is the likely winner, possibly due to an overflow of love for WALL*E. Then again, Pixar shorts have lost in previous years...
  

This Way Up - (UK, 9 min)

• A pair of undertakers (father and son) run into all kinds of trouble on their way to the cemetery in this macabre comedy. It's impressively animated and consistently entertaining, but it didn't have me rolling in the aisles like seemingly everyone else in the theater. Nonetheless, it's an above average short film and deserves to be nominated.
  

I'm thinking it will come down to Presto or La Maison en Petits Cubes. The latter is far and away my preference, but I'm just too nervous about Pixar's power, so Presto remains my prediction as the winner. Hope I'm wrong...

300 Words About: Waltz With Bashir

The horror of remembering the sins of the past...

In reviewing the underrated Stop-Loss just about a year ago, I asked the question,”… are we going to be ready when the real effects of the war start here? When hundreds of thousands of veterans are going through the same unexaggerated struggles as these characters?” The answer, I still believe, is no.

But what I failed to consider until I saw Waltz with Bashir is that a number of these veterans may not even remember their experiences in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other undisclosed places. No harm, no foul? Not quite, but an interesting phenomenon to consider. With Waltz with Bashir, Ari Folman has turned the stereotype of the war-traumatized soldier on its head, introducing us to himself in one of the most personal films of the year (alongside another powerful documentary, Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father).

Having passively observed as a 19 year-old Israeli soldier the brutal massacre of two refugee camps in Lebanon in 1982, Folman found himself simply unable to remember the incident when another veteran described a recurring nightmare to him one night at a bar. Upset and eventually unsettled by his own foggy visions of the past, Folman set out to find those who fought by his side with hope that they would shed light on what really happened.

Animated but not rotoscoped, the result is an often hypnotizing blend of interviews and reenactments that illustrates a troubling history not only in Beirut, but also in the minds of so many Israeli soldiers. What must it be like to realize you've been a part of something so reprehensible? Though I'm sure Israeli war veterans don't comprise much of the Academy, it struck a nerve with enough voters to earn a nomination for Best Foreign Language Film, even if it was overlooked for Best Animated Film (dogs and robots and pandas go down a little easier for the kids, you know) and Best Documentary Feature (the animation likely distracted from the reality for many voters).

If it isn't obvious enough, Folman readily admits Waltz with Bashir is "a very anti-war statement. I was trying to say that wars are really useless and a waste of life for so many people for the sake of nothing." That much is clear - what's not is just how many American soldiers will be making the same film in 30 years.

REVIEW: Coraline: 3D (A-)

Remember this classic scene from Mallrats, or the "Seinfeld" episode where Mr. Pitt stubbornly refuses to walk away from the Magic Eye poster? Like most people, I always found it hilarious to laugh at the people who couldn't relax their eyes and let the image soak in. It was so easy for me to see three dimensions, even back in the 80's when I saw the space opera Captain EO (remember when Michael Jackson acted?) at Walt Disney World and grasped at the stars as I sat dumbfounded in my seat.

Then, somehow, I lost it. Over the course of the last few years I've found myself sitting expressionless in theaters (recently Beowulf, and to a lesser extent, U23D) while people around me "ooh", "ahh", jump back in their chairs and swipe at the air in front of them. Me? I only see the movie now - clear and sharp, but in two dimensions.

Of course the mystery here is how I'm unable to see the third dimension when the ridiculous looking glasses should be doing all the work for me. What's my problem? Evidently I don't know how to operate the glasses. Or I'm a medical marvel.

In any case, I'm always up to try it again, thinking, "Maybe it will work at the next movie"...in this case, Coraline, based on Neil Gaiman's award winning novella, published in 2002.

The good news: most of the time, I experienced three dimensions. And when I did - especially in the last 20 minutes - Coraline was a dizzying delight. It was the creepy, cold, and captivating movie I wish Pan's Labyrinth would have been. Everything clicked perfectly - the seamless stop-motion animation, the splashes of color, and the beautifully haunting musical score by Bruno Coulais.

Why do animated girls and women almost always have blue hair?

You eventually wake up from every dream, however, and Coraline was no different. Although I should say I never really "fell asleep", meaning I couldn't quite surrender myself to the movie. It felt like a nap I kept waking up from, partly because I became restless in the middle third, and partly because I kept fiddling with my 3D glasses to see if Coraline would look the same without them. It's not a great sign that the story failed to engage me, especially since it's a really interesting concept about every kid's wish for a different life.

As such, (and I can't believe I'm actually saying this) I almost wish Coraline would have been a scarier movie. For how frightening it already is for young children, why not go a little further? I say freak the adults out and give the kids a theater experience they'll remember forever. Heck, just give them any theater experience to remember, since this might be the last generation that doesn't watch the majority of their movies at home.

But that's neither here nor there. Despite my minor issues with the 3D and the tone of the story, Coraline is, on balance, a solid movie in the early period of 2009...even an early contender for Best Animated Feature? Maybe that's a little premature with Monsters vs. Aliens (also in 3D), Up, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, 9, Astro Boy and The Princess and the Frog all due out this year. But at this rate "Best 3D Animated Feature" might be added as an Oscar category, and Coraline would have that locked up.


Grade:
Writing - 10
Acting - N/A
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Social Significance - 3

Total: 36/40= 90% = A-

Underrated MOTM: Waking Life (2001)

School's out for summer, but that doesn't mean July's Underrated Movie of the Month (MOTM) has to be a mindless blockbuster. In fact, Waking Life is possibly the best antidote one could find for the poisonous images (The Love Guru, et. al.) we're subject to during these dog days of June-August.

Waking Life is an endlessly fascinating film that rarely receives its due credit for exploring a new dimension in animation. Intellectual overload combined with trippy rotoscope animation made for an overwhelming theater experience that twice left me in a daze. Unlike I'm about to do, the Boston Globe's Jay Carr nailed it in a sentence: "Often surreal, Waking Life transcends boundaries of technology, imagination."

Totally. I saw it in the month of October (it was released in 10/19/01), but it's the perfect movie to get lost in on a hot summer night on a huge screen in the dark of your living room. Watch it late and see where your dreams end up taking you.

Written and directed by Richard Linklater (Slacker, Fast Food Nation), Waking Life was filmed in less than a month during July of 1999 in and around Austin, TX (talk about Texan pride, Linklater seems to film or set as many of his movies as he can there). If you're from Austin you'll probably recognize many of the faces and places in Waking Life, but the rest of us are likely only familiar with Wiley Wiggins, who made his film debut in Linklater's Dazed and Confused, and Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke, both of whom also starred in Linklater's Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. Got all that?

Well it's nothing compared to the radical theories and concepts thrown at you over the course of the 99 minutes of Waking Life. The "story" is simple enough: In a series of lucid dreams (the idea of which is amazing to me), our nameless main character (Wiggins) meets a diverse group of people who spend their time pondering, among other things, the very meaning of life. Those of you with advanced degrees in theoretical physics or philosophy may find it laughably elementary. Fortunately for the rest of us, our main character mostly acts as you would expect, politely nodding his head with a puzzled face, trying his best to understand ideas that are way beyond the average person's grasp.

And this is where the main criticism of the film is targeted. Said Mike Clark in USA Today, "It's like being in a college bar and listening to your companion blathering on about the secrets of the world." Others described it as "boring," "endless," "pretentious," "bogged down," "pedantic," "psycho-babbly hooey", and maybe most interestingly, "little more than isolated--and not terribly fulfilling--masturbation."

Clearly, most of the critical critics don't have those advanced degrees I mentioned. Nor do I, of course, but as much as I couldn't immediately process half of what was being said, I actually found Waking Life more fascinating than frustrating - as if I was allowed to just think about how a Rubik's Cube is put together without actually having to solve it. Plus, who can't enjoy a good old rant (one of my favorite scenes) in between all of the philosophizing?

Despite accusations that it celebrates intellectual snobbery, I would argue that appreciating the content in Waking Life is less about intelligence and more about personality type. The "analyticals" who enjoyed those late night college conversations will dig it; the more "emotionals" looking for a fun story or character will despise it. In either case, there's another aspect of Waking Life that we can all enjoy: rotoscope animation.

If you haven't seen it, you've surely seen its byproduct: those idiotic Charles Schwab commercials. You know where your Schwab investment money is going? To pay for some clowns to unnecessarily rotoscope those people whining about their riches. Anyway, the method simply involves animating over frames of live action. This means, of course, that the entire film is shot on video before animators take over for a few months and draw over everything. The result is a third dimension where the physical laws of the universe are tossed out the window: your skin moves separately from your body and the whole world seems wobbly. Probably not recommended viewing for those with motion sickness.

While I was wowed enough by the visuals to keep watching (and the creative use of animation often illustrated the monologues), some critics were still unsatisfied. TV Guide's Frank Lovece found himself bored by "talking heads that no amount of colorfully animated, lava-lamp-like undulations can make less static." Come on, Frank, appreciate the art! Oh well, enough other people did, and Linklater would go on to film 2006's A Scanner Darkly in rotoscope as well, making it and Waking Life the only feature-length rotoscoped films ever made.

Waking Life went on to gross just $2 million at the box office before evidently disappearing from cinematic discourse. No doubt thanks to Roger Ebert's praise, the film was nominated in 2002 for no less than Best Picture by the Chicago Film Critics Association (CFCA). Meanwhile, the Oscar nominees for the first ever Best Animated Feature film? Shrek (the winner), Monster's Inc., and, of course, Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius. Where did I miss this snub in my list of the worst ever?

Speaking of snubs, Mulholland Drive (ironically, the CFCA's Best Picture winner) was coincidentally released in the U.S. on the exact same day as Waking Life. The latter could be almost be viewed as an animated version of the former, and the movies remain as two of the most mindblowing experiences I've ever had in a theater.

I can't guarantee you'll have the same experience watching Waking Life at home, but at the very least it should satisfy your summer craving for something more substantive than Disaster Movie.

300 Words (x2) About: WALL*E

Just another swing through Saturn's rings...

I can't imagine being a member of the Pixar team. Your movies are expected to capture children's hearts, warm over the coldest critics, top $300 million domestically at the box office, win Academy Awards, cure cancer, and do my laundry. Pixar's 2008 film, WALL*E, has succeeded on the first two of those tasks. The third and fourth are a foregone conclusion, and the last two, well, we'll see.

At the very least, WALL*E is the best animated film and the best romantic comedy of the year. I expect its mention in Best Picture discussions will peak and eventually fade by January, but the fact is, we might want to set the Pixar people loose on some of the world's real problems, because all they do is make magic happen.

Our hero, WALL*E (Waste Allocation Load Lifter - Earth Class), is a lonely little robot stranded on Earth. Humans left centuries ago when our consuming ways caught up with us: waste, garbage, and a lack of natural resources made the planet uninhabitable. We now live aboard a giant spaceship, still addicted to technology and fast food. Our species has adapted and evolved, and the human body now resembles that of a walrus. Our captain has sent a probe robot, Eve, to search for signs of life on Earth. Eve finds WALL*E, who presents her with a plant as a simple sign of friendship. Her mission accomplished, Eve is called back to the ship. WALL*E stows away and finds his world turned upside down.

The animation in WALL*E shocked me for two reasons: 1.) metal is literally brought to life, and 2.) I didn't think I could be shocked by computer animation anymore. Garbage has never looked so beautiful, and WALL*E's curious excitement as he drifted into outer space (above) was not just my favorite moment of the movie, but the one that might make WALL*E my favorite Pixar movie. As with last year's installment, Ratatouille, the Pixar-animated landscapes and brilliant details are making it increasingly difficult to trust what your eyes are seeing.

Although the romance in WALL*E is both believable and touching (I can't believe I just wrote that), I wouldn't call the story entirely perfect. Somewhere aboard the spaceship I felt a little stutter in the momentum, as if the movie didn't know if it wanted to continue its love story, shift gears and focus on the humans and earth, or further explore WALL*E's character. It makes it through to a nice ending while doing all three of those, but if there is any criticism to be directed at this movie, it's in that fact: WALL*E tried to lift too heavy a load.

Part of the reason the misguided backlash against WALL*E's "green" message surprises me is that the story was written back in the early 90's, when green was a color and fluorescent bulbs were the ones used in awesome neon signs. Writer/director Andrew Stanton (also responsible for Pixar's Finding Nemo, recently named one of the best animated films of all time) wrote WALL*E simply asking this question: "What if humankind left earth and somebody left the last robot on, and it just kept doing the same futile thing forever?"

Of course, it says something about Pixar that its movies are receiving enough serious attention to be accused of influencing society in some way. For my well-spent money it was just a funny little story, but maybe that says something about me, and maybe the people offended by WALL*E (thanks to Matthew Lucas for the link) need to go take out their trash. Permanently.

REVIEW: Kung Fu Panda (A)

Background: As many well-made and truly meaningful animated films continue to come down the pike, it always seems like the next one won't be as special. Or is that just me? I'm trying to say that I wasn't going to see Kung Fu Panda because I didn't think it would be very good. I mean, come on, it's not even Pixar, it's Dreamworks Animation, which aside from Bee Movie hasn't produced any gems since Shrek 2. Well, a funny thing happened: people I trust (Craig Kennedy, Nick Plowman, Matthew Lucas) reported Kung Fu Panda was actually, well, really good. So I gave it shot, figuring good old Jack Black (Be Kind Rewind) wouldn't let me down this time. I was also intrigued by the other voices: Dustin Hoffman (Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium), Angelina Jolie (Beowulf), Seth Rogen (Horton Hears a Who!), Lucy Liu ("Cashmere Mafia"), Jackie Chan (The Forbidden Kingdom), Ian McShane (The Golden Compass) and David Cross (I'm Not There). And, last but not least, NEWMAN = Wayne Knight.

Synopsis : Po (Black) is a plump, clumsy, innocent adolescent panda who lives in a Chinese valley and dreams of his Kung Fu heroes, The Furious Five: Tigress (Jolie), Crane (Cross), Mantis (Rogen), Monkey (Chan), and Viper (Liu). Although Po's future is committed to inheriting his loving father's noodle shop, Po aspires to be a Kung Fu warrior trained by Master Shifu (Hoffman), a little red panda, or Master Oogway, a Yoda-like turtle. Although the area is called the Valley of Peace, it has a history of violence. Tai Lung (McShane), a snow leopard, has a bone to pick with Shifu and Oogway, and he is about to break out of prison (he destroyed the valley) to seek his vengeance. Sensing this trouble, Oogway decides to select the legendary Dragon Warrior who will receive a special scroll holding the secret to limitless powers. Here's a spoiler if you didn't catch the title of the movie yet: Po is chosen as the Dragon Warrior. Under Shifu's tutelage and The Furious Five's resentful eyes, Po struggles through his training and finds his inner strength just in time for knock-down, drag-out fight with Tai Lung. Kids go home happy.

I Loved:
+ How much of the real Jack Black leaked into his character. What a perfect role, and I especially liked the Tenacious D-inspired intro.
+ The beautiful animation during the fight sequences and Tai Lung's escape.
+ The sacred peach tree mountaintop - what a dreamy place.

I Liked:
+ The actually funny jokes - not too kiddy and not too grown-up, either. Just funny. Nice work by writers Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger.
+ Seth Rogen's throwaway lines. They still work, movie after movie.

I Disliked:
- That the only African-American in the cast, Michael Clarke Duncan, was relegated to voicing the big, scary, swaggering black rhino. An overused stereotype that could have easily been avoided in this situation. Just sayin', kids pick up on these things.
- That the characters seemed completely invincible. Even for cartoon violence, there has to be some realistic aspects to fighting...right?
- How much of the "real" Angelina Jolie leaked into her character. Tigress was oh-so-cool and oh-so-above-it-all, and she always knew the right thing to do at the right time to save humanity. Gimme a break...

I Hated:
- The lady in the theater who kept staring at me. Yes, I'm an adult here to watch a kid's movie, and no, I'm not going to eat your children because my appetite was ruined by the slobbering mess your family made with those concessions.

Grade:
Writing - 9
Acting - N/A
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 4
Significance - 5

Total: 37/40= 93% = A

Last Word: Jack Black's perfect presence in Kung Fu Panda cannot be overstated. It's not that the supporting characters aren't likable, but every scene without Po is noticeably lacking in both humor and emotional depth. Nonetheless, it's hard not to be entranced by every frame of the movie. The animation is extraordinary (again, for a non-Pixar production) and the cutting and editing keeps everything moving at a brisk pace, while fortunately preserving the important message. Never mind that it's a familiar one - this is a new story told with new energy and a creative spirit. The gauntlet has been thrown down, WALL-E...

300 Words About: Speed Racer

Take a long look at that screenshot I happened across. It's somehow blurry and clear at the same time, and the detail is so rich as to be an academic study for art students. The same can be said about Speed Racer, the long overdue adaptation of the popular anime-inspired cartoon, and the newest visionary film by the Wachowski Brothers, the enigmatic filmmaking duo that gave us the Matrix trilogy. Bringing your favorite characters to life are Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild), John Goodman (Evan Almighty), Christina Ricci (Penelope), Susan Sarandon (Enchanted), and Roger Allam (V for Vendetta, also written by the Wachowskis). Don't get caught up in the story, as it's somewhat unnecessary and far less important than the real heart of this movie: the spectacular races. I think I read that no actual cars were used in the filming of the races, which is not surprising in this age of green screen/CGI effects, but still mind-boggling when you consider the incredible energy pumping through these scenes. It's everything George Lucas failed to do with the pod races in The Phantom Menace, and it's evidence that the Wachowskis are, again, way ahead of the curve when it comes to innovative special effects.

Though it's tempting to only focus on the adrenaline-filled racing sequences, Speed Racer offers some additional eye candy in the use of frame wiping and, in almost every scene, enough colors to spend a lifetime naming (I wouldn't be surprised to learn if some assistant director was tasked with making sure 30 different colors are visible in each frame). There are some decent moments of physical comedy as well, and at least one line from John Goodman that had me laughing out loud. It would be easy to come down hard on Speed Racer for its misguided and distracting attempt at wrapping a touching family drama into an indictment of corporate greed, but those moments didn't annoy me so much as they bored me. This race would have been a lot more fun without these pit stops, but when the pedals were on the floor it was a pretty wild ride.

(Because I love passionate reviews, I have to direct you to Evan Derrick's at MovieZeal, even though I don't fully share his enthusiasm for this particular film. Get ready to ride...)

REVIEW: Chicago 10 (B)

Background: I've been meaning to see Brett Morgen's first film, 2002's The Kid Stays in the Picture, but despite the miss I've been excited about Chicago 10 for some time. I'm a big fan of historical anniversaries and 1968 was a year in American history without equal. The film, all documentary but part animated recreation, features the mostly recognizable voices of Hank Azaria, Mark Ruffalo, Nick Nolte, Jeffrey Wright, Liev Schreiber, and the late Roy Scheider. The animation is, I believe, in the same rotoscope style we were first dazzled with in Waking Life before it was ruined by those ridiculous "pity me and my outrageous wealth" Charles Schwab commercials. Anyway, Chicago 10 premiered to rave reviews at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival, and there's a possibility that it will be followed up with an oddly cast but sure to be entertaining live action version. Can all of those people really be involved in the same movie?

Synopsis: The first screen tells us the courtroom scenes are adapted from official court transcripts. This is important - it will be hard to believe later on. As Chicago and Mayor Richard Daley prepare for the 1968 Democratic National Convention, anti-war protesters from two separate groups, MOBE (National Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam - yeah, I don't get the acronym either) and the "Yippies" make plans to non-violently demonstrate in Lincoln Park and the surrounding area. Their requests for a permit are denied, but the protesters show up in droves anyway. Conventional wisdom rings true, as what starts out as innocent marching and pranking ends up with tear gas, billy club beatings, and old ladies being shoved into paddy wagons. Led in spirit by the obnoxious and incredibly narcissistic Abbie Hoffman (Azaria), the other seven on trial in 1969 for conspiracy and intent to start a riot were Jerry Rubin (Ruffalo), David Dellinger, Tom Hayden, Rennie Davis, John Froines, Lee Weiner, and Bobby Seale (Wright). The film cuts back and forth between the trial animations and archival footage from the protests, much of which is pretty incredible to see. The riot scenes are tense and the trial scenes are showy. All the while, The Eight are held in high esteem by Morgen, while Judge Julius Hoffman (Scheider) is portrayed as a grumpy old jerk. Certainly the defendants weren't totally innocent, but their circus of a trial was hardly just. Even the defense lawyers (William Kunstler and Leonard Weinglass, thus making 10) served multiple year prison sentences for their "contemptuous" behavior in the courtroom. By the abrupt conclusion we're supposed to be left in a fit of rage, but I had more questions than I had answers.

I Loved:
+ The rare archival footage, though you could never see what started each violent outburst. Everyone's just standing around anxiously and then BOOM - beatings and running for lives.

I Liked:
+ The animation, for the most part. What can I say, I'm a sucker for rotoscope, and even the traditional animation was interesting to look at here.

I Disliked:
- The use of Eminem's Bush-bashing song "Mosh." What, were there not enough war protest songs from the 60's to use here? Totally out of context, but in a funny spot right after Allen Ginsberg's "ommm" chants.
- Nick Nolte's gutteral, growling voice - the guy sounds like an animal. Literally, like a disgruntled dog or a dying alligator or something. Casting him here was unnecessarily distracting.
- That the driving rock music was an almost constant presence, even in the courtroom. Trust me, I can pay attention during a trial scene without needing to be "entertained." For that matter, was the animation even necessary? Couldn't it have simply been a live action reenactment with the same actors?

I Hated:
- Roy Scheider's voice, channeling Hans Moleman from "The Simpsons."

Grade:
Writing - N/A
Acting - N/A
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 4
Significance - 5

Total: 25/30= 83% = B

Last Word: I'm easily annoyed by people. People like Abbie Hoffman. Not because of how they act, but because of what gets lost when they act the way he did. What went missing here was the central message of their "protest." By the final march, their speeches aren't about the war at all, they're about "us" and "the pigs." This kind of inflammatory language was the style in the 60's to be sure, but that doesn't make it any less immature and ineffective. In this case, "the whole world" was watching, alright - watching people act like idiots for no good reason. If I'm sounding like Bill O'Reilly, I don't mean to. It's just that my hackles are raised whenever people place themselves in front of the message, and for all their good intentions (and constitutional rights), the protesters at the convention didn't accomplish as much as they could have with a more reasonable approach. Although I haven't mentioned him yet, what I just said could apply to Brett Morgen here as well, who's essentially made a cartoon out of cartoonish characters. I applaud his ambition to make an important story relevant 40 years later, but he doesn't fare much better than the protesters in making a convincing argument for anything. He's made a visual and auditory feast, but I'm hungry for some more substantive information in my documentaries, maybe flavored with some structure and just a dash of objectivity. It's incredible to say so about a documentary, but despite all the flashy panache of Chicago 10, I think the live action version (if it happens) may end up being the more important film.

REVIEW: 2008 Oscar Nominated Animated Shorts

I had the great pleasure to catch the five Animated Short nominees last weekend. In contrast to the Live Action Shorts, these are truly a trip into some new dimensions in film. Each of the nominees features breathtaking animation, some of which I've never seen before (or seen so impressively), and since none of them are American you get a little slice of culture, too. You can try to see them here, but it's a really great experience in the theater - go whenever you have a chance in the future. I do not think you'll regret it.

Instead of "grading" these, I'm going to match them up with what I consider their 2007 Best Picture nominee equivalents. No reason - I liked all of these, so it's just a match game.

The nominees:

I Met the Walrus - Josh Raskin (Canada, 5 min, ink drawing/computer graphic animation):

• This is not so much a short film as it is an animated visualization of words. A 1969 recording of John Lennon rambling about peace, war, governments, and the world is turned into an impressive layout of graphics, images and words in pink, brown, and ivory hues. Something about this reminded me of a Gap commercial or something "hip" like that. It's very cool, but it's just not what you would traditionally call a film. It's the most uplifting of the five nominees, and the political ideas and rants might appeal to the Academy.
  
• 2007 Best Picture equivalent = Michael Clayton

Madame Tutli-Putli - Chris Lavis and Maciek Szczerbowski (Canada, 17 min, stop-motion/CGI animation)

• If David Lynch made an animated film, this would be it. A meek woman boards a train to an unknown destination. Stuck in a sleeping car with a disgusting tennis player, a creepy kid, and two chess players, her trip turns downright macabre when a mysterious blue light signals organ-harvesting thieves to board the train and gas the passengers. Ah, and I haven't mentioned the moth, white bright light and chirpy sounds that the woman follows in her desperation. I'm already lost again, which I think was kind of the point. This was the most disturbing, most impressively animated, and most memorable nominee.
  
• 2007 Best Picture equivalent = No Country for Old Men

Meme Les Pigeons Vont au Paradis - Samuel Tourneux and Simon Vanesse (France, 9 min, 3-D CGI animation)

• The ultimate battle between good and evil, life and death, angel and demon. When "Death" is supposed to come calling, a "Priest" steps in and saves the elderly Frenchman whose time has come. The priest's motive? Milking the man of his last dollar before death. A humorous trick is played before one character receives a karmic comeuppance in a very abrupt ending.
• 2007 Best Picture equivalent = There Will Be Blood

Moya Lyubov - Alexander Petrov (Russia, 27 min, hand-painted animation)

• A teenage Russian boy is caught in a love triangle in 19th-century Russia. His dreams and fantasies are lovely, disturbing, and really hard to follow. But I guess that's how dreams are. Watching this was like seeing the world in watercolor - hard to describe. Petrov is the only previous nominee in this group, and a previous winner at that. Maybe that makes him the favorite.
  
• 2007 Best Picture equivalent = Atonement

Peter & the Wolf - Suzie Templeton and Hugh Welchman (UK/Poland, 27 min, silicon model/stop-motion animation)

• The classic story of poor Peter and his heroic task is retold here in stunning stop-motion animation. This was the funniest and overall most entertaining of the nominees, but its ending drags - and I don't even know if it's the "right" ending. Something didn't feel right about it, but I'm not going to spend time looking up the accuracy of children's stories (not that I wouldn't look up other trivial information). The music was great, as you would expect.
• 2007 Best Picture equivalent = Juno

Predicting which of these five will on Sunday is, at least for me, a complete shot in the dark. They are so different from each other that I don't know what will appeal to the Academy members' tastes. I Met the Walrus seems totally out of place here, but maybe that's why it will win. Madame Tutli-Putli is the most impressive artistically, but the story is creepy and weird. Peter & the Wolf is a classic, and the other two are terrific stories. Without having a serious inside connection, I don't know how this can be accurately predicted.

I'll go with Madame Tutli-Putli.



...(or Moya Lyubov). Forget it, who knows.

REVIEW: Persepolis (B+)

Background: Marjane Satrapi's highly anticipated, animated adaptation of her autobiographical graphic novel has arrived with Persepolis. I haven't read her book, but I have seen some op-ed comics she has written for the NYT, and her drawings have a very unique look to them. Voiced by important French film stars that I've never heard of, Persepolis was a winner of a Jury Prize at Cannes, and France's submission to the 2008 Oscars. Stunningly, it didn't even make the short list.

Synopsis: In colored animation, we meet Marjane as an adult (presumably in present day), where she is at an airport remembering days gone by in pre-and post-revolutionary Iran. These flashbacks, in black and white animation, make up almost the entire film. We see her as a precocious, curious little girl who doesn't fully understand the magnitude of the events surrounding her (including her parents' participation in the revolution); a rebellious teen who develops a love for Iron Maiden; and a fiery young woman who suffers heartbreak and identity episodes as she attends school in Vienna and Tehran, where she returns in the early 90's.

I Loved:
+ The animation. It was almost as if I'd never seen anything like it before, so familiar have I become with Pixar-style productions.

I Liked:
+ The emotional range of the story - it had a good balance of comedy, drama, tragedy, etc., without getting too bogged down.

I Disliked:
- The feeling that I didn't really get to know who Marjane is. It was ironically almost not personal enough. Maybe I needed some more present day context to see who she has become since then.

I Hated:
- The giggling gaggle of girls surrounding us in the theater and acting as if they were watching Saturday morning cartoons. And the smoochy kissy couple in front of us. Sigh.

Grade:
Writing - 8
Acting - N/A
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 4
Significance - 5

Total: 35/40= 88% = B+

Last Word: When talking about Persepolis, the discussion will either focus on the politics or the animation. I don't know enough about the first to judge the film's motives or its historical accuracy, but I can say with some authority that the animation is revolutionary in its own right. The absence of color is not just an artistic touch, but the symbolic lens through which Marjane remembers her life in Tehran - black, white, and lots of gray. The two-dimensional style of the animation is nostalgic, simple, and lovely to watch. I don't think Persepolis would have been nearly as good in live action, or even in color. Production aside, Marjane's story is really interesting, though not enough to keep me from wondering about what else was happening in Iran. Her romantic escapades don't add much to the story, though fortunately they're blown through pretty quickly. But I guess a lot of her life was, and maybe that's the problem. Tell someone's life story in 95 minutes and that's bound to happen. I never really got hooked into her character, but that may have been a result of the yahoos around me in the theater. Nevertheless, I did get a unique glimpse into Tehran during the revolution and fall of the Shah, and that's enough to recommend seeing Persepolis.