Well, I saw Wall-E last night, and I've had 24 hours to mull it over. 24 hours that I've been spending pulling gravel out of my hair from the Virginia Center Commons parking lot, upon which I crumbled, overcome with emotion, after some animated robots ripped my heart to shreds. There is 100% chance that I have just viewed the film that will win the 2009 Best Animated Film Oscar. I know, stop the presses, right? The Pixar folks get so many awards they probably use gold statuettes for currency or garden gnomes. You can't blame the Academy too much, though. It's not like there are a lot of solid competitors in the world of animated film ready go head to head with Pixar's trademark snappy scripts and universal appeal.

But as celebrated as the digital animation giant is, I'm going to say what we're all thinking. There hasn't been a truly great Pixar movie in years! Adorable, yes. Bubbly, sure. Clever, natch. But brilliant? Powerful? Groundbreaking? Fresh? This story of both a lonely robot and an irresponsible species is all of those things right off the bat. And the best part is, it manages to do so without much of a script. And I don't mean that it manages to do so in spite of a stupid script, I mean that most of the dialogue we get in Wall-E consists of chirps, beeps, gasps, and the amazingly expressive repetition of the names of the two main characters, Wall-E and Eve.

I just now realized why a friend of mine with two young children was so surprised at my awestruck attitude about this movie. I happened to view Wall-E in a deserted theater on a Monday night. It created a romantic atmosphere in which my husband and I clutched each other and trembled with feeling as we watched a doe-eyed machine reject his smothering loneliness and convey single-minded devotion towards a streamlined, female iPod. It made for a lot of squeezing of hands and sharing of candy, that's for sure. To offer a stark contrast, this past Saturday, a child sat (wildly danced) in front of me for three hours at a matinee of the Broadway version of The Lion King at the Kennedy Center while shouting "THAT IS NOT A LION, MOMMY" as her mother tried to ply her with candy and empty threats, a style of parenting apparently meant to confuse and enrage both the child and all of the surrounding bystanders. If that child/parent duo had defied the hex I put on them and turned up at this showing of Wall-E (hopefully with the intention of reimbursing me for The Lion King), you could put the Hector/Achilles fight scene from Troy* on that screen, and I'm pretty sure I still would lose my mind and head for the exit. In short, I cannot even imagine sitting through this film with a theater full of sugar-fed children, and I can only guess how chasing a bored kid down an aisle littered with other bored kids might change your perception of Wall-E.

Luckily, I was able to avoid the younger set. As a result, I could fully experience how Pixar has stretched boundaries and exposed capabilities of animated feature film that I, for one, certainly didn't expect. If anything, the lack of spoken dialogue only allows us to appreciate in clear detail the subtleties of their animating talents. Additionally, the sounds and setting, which were both reminiscent of Star Wars**, induce faint pangs of nostalgia that are more genuine than anything I felt while watching that Attack of the Clones monstrosity. And of course there's the environmental message that reprimands while still allows hope. That's something we don't get too often, and while it may be unrealistic to have hope about the fate of our planet, it is rather ripping of Pixar not to make the plants get mad at us and release fatal chemicals. Top all of this off with a repeated reference to the film Hello, Dolly!, about which I wasn't aware anyone had spent that much time thinking except me and Barbra Streisand, and we have a beautiful animated study in loneliness, environmental disaster, the fate of humankind, and the seemingly endless varieties of robot body language.

The one hazard of this film is that you have a good chance of finding yourself thinking, "Ugh, humans. Maybe we'd just be better off letting the adorable robots take over." And you and I both know that this sounds eerily like what robots would want us to think.

*You know what I'm talking about, ladies.
**I read that Pixar brought Star Wars's original sound designer out of retirement to work on Wall-E.

4 out of 5 stars

(from my review at Lost At Sea)

Remember when Pixar was so insecure about the way their newfangled technology represented humans that they only sporadically showed them – always in a rush and always only bit by bit? Now, as my moviegoing friend reminded me, they are able to digitally portray humans so realistically that they have to purposefully make the characters cartoonish so that the viewer still gets the animation experience.

This makes me feel kind of weird. Pixar is TOO ADVANCED that it has to dumb itself down for us? Come on. I mean, the cars of Cars only exist in my memory as animated figures, not amazing works of art. Stop dilly-dallying around with genius technology and get back to your formerly incredible scripts. It’s quality we want from Pixar – a feel-good movie that delivers some seriously good jokes. Am I right??

Well, I’m almost right. Ratatouille, Pixar’s latest feature about a rat that wants to be a chef, is the first of their films whose animation struck me straight off. They may be caricaturing up the humans in the film, and as expected, the portrayal of rats is a little skewed so that they become adorable cuddlers instead of what we all know is their natural state.* The other stuff though – the Paris streets, the professional yet warm kitchen, and even the sewers – is so visually appealing that you find yourself wondering how they got a computer to make an image look so softly lit and appetizing. A sunset over a French farmhouse and the afternoon light slanting into the shot makes you ask (loudly, to the sky) why people bother to make live action movies at all.

In fact, the obvious and complicated care gone into making this film look both worn around the edges and on the cutting edge of taste (like Remy the Rat’s signature dish, ratatouille**) is clearly the theme behind the entire film. Remy’s culinary adventures are abbreviated by the fact that his very presence can cause a restaurant to be shut down, even when the crustiest food critic (played by Peter O’Toole – who really rules, what is going on with that guy? I hope he lives to be 200!) will deign to admit that a lowly rat can bring some much needed humility to the world of food – and, it was enjoyable to see, the world of criticism.*** But the pervading message of the film, “you can do whatever you want as long as you set your mind to it, etc.” is delivered with more sincerity than any children’s movie I’ve seen in a long time.

The humor in Ratatouille isn’t quite as memorable as in former Pixar greats, at least, I don’t remember more than a couple incredibly side-splitting moments. But you know what? Was Finding Nemo all that funny? It was more of an entire package, not just some cheap laughs like Cars, and it’s the “entire package” film that wins hearts (and Oscars).

*Demons.

**Which, in America, is pronounced (as the film keeps telling you) ‘Rat-a-TOO-ee’ and if you try to say it like you are French, I will come after you with a giant, stale baguette and a host of angry escargot.

***A movie about food AND a movie about criticism? Replace the colony of rats with a colony of Johnny Depps and I would swear never to watch another movie ever again.

Kevin Munroe, 2007

3.5 out of 5 stars

The morning of TMNT’s opening day (and I hope everyone knows I’m talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), I sent around an email to everyone I know announcing my plans to go see it that evening. I expected not just prompt but immediate replies, in all caps, asking where and when and if they could get a ride. Crickets had been chirping for about an hour before I finally attacked people on an individual basis. Instead of the enthusiasm I had assumed would erupt, I was greeted with puzzlement. “Why would I want to go see that?” “I have no interest in that movie” and “I’m an adult” were their responses, and these comments, besides indicating a general lack of camaraderie by everyone I know, were the beginning of an inkling I was starting to get that TMNT is, alas, a kid’s movie. This inkling was confirmed when I arrived at a very popular and crowded cineplex on a Friday night at 9:00 pm with the four people that were nice enough to humor me, and we ended up comprising 50% of the audience.

Great!

You can’t really blame me for being confused though. Hollywood has spent millions upon millions on the X-Men, Spider-Man, and Batman enterprises, not to mention the forthcoming Transformers flick, which no one I know will shut up about. I naturally assumed that the hysteria surrounding the Turtles in the late 80s had carried over into our adulthood, where it became a sort of warm, nostalgic glow. Well, apparently there’s a fine line between “being nostalgic” and “acting really childlike and weird,” which my friends picked up on very quickly. That fine line, I’ve figured out, has a lot to do with animation and very little to do with subject matter.

Greater!

As far as I can tell, the new TMNT picks up where the original TMNT movie left off (the one with Corey Feldman, not the one with Vanilla Ice). Shredder is long dead, and the lack of focus has fragmented the once tight family of mutant ninja brothers. Leonardo, the oldest and leader of the pack, and Raphael, the hothead who’s never been comfortable taking orders, have really gone too far with their sibling rivalry this time, and the tension finally comes to a head. Instead of the easy, feel-good route that they could have taken, the makers of TMNT instead chose to go along the darker channels prevalent in the comic book, and the film goes in a new direction by including a very real-seeming battle between the two alpha-male-turtles that really doesn’t end in the expected hugs and high fives. Their personalities have been so well preserved over the years, that I almost felt a little misty watching my old friends alive and well again, just as I remembered them.

So why am I not falling to pieces over this well-written and exciting film that brings to mind so many pleasant childhood memories? Because some moron chose to animate it! No, I get it, the costumes of the 1990 film were clunky and fake, and the agile amphibians of the comics and television series were reduced to some dangerously slow-moving ninjas. As such, we never got much acrobatic ninja fighting, and today’s technology allows the turtles to zip around New York in a more “realistic” way – and if not realistic then at least more romanticized. I’m down with CGI turtles, but it’s the CGI Splinter and the CGI April O’Neil and Casey Jones (who became a hot hipster somewhere along the way) that make you ask yourself if you’re watching a film or a video game. They cheapened the entire experience and made me glad I hadn’t dragged the reluctant ones to the theater. I would never have heard the end of it, no matter how much I pleaded for them to look past the awkward humans and focus on our old friends, back to their normal slender states and kicking ass with bows and sais.

Not so great!

And the worst part is, you know it’s possible for a great film to be hatched out of the combination of CGI and real people. I mean, this isn’t the age of Who Framed Roger Rabbit.* The abovementioned superhero movies do a fantastic job of seamlessly integrating fact and fiction, but the difference is that it costs a lot more money to corral big shot actors and big shot animators. Consequently, TMNT comes across as low budget, even though the concept and writing are right on, and just because it satisfied my own nostalgic yearnings, it probably will fail to hit the mark with most other adults.

I just have to mention, though, that there is no way that the Transformers could beat the Turtles, it’s just not feasible. They make too much noise when they walk around. Ninjas are all over that.

*I am on a roll recapturing my childhood, here! Next stop, The Land Before Time and Ann M. Martin!

I honestly never thought I’d say this about a movie that revolves around rats and sewers, but Flushed Away was denied an Oscar nomination. Possibly this is because no one actually saw the film, due to its incredibly poor marketing. If you remember, this film was a collaborative effort between Aardman Features, the people behind the British claymation favorites Wallace and Gromit and Chicken Run, and DreamWorks (Shrek and some other movies not worth mentioning). The results are that the digital rats are made to look like clay rats, which gives the animators more freedom but retains the warmth of the original claymation style for which Aardman is so beloved.

As you might deduce if you are familiar with its predecessors, Flushed Away’s script delivers a rapid fire of dry wit and cultural references with Pixar-caliber timing, something DreamWorks has never really quite been able to achieve on its own.* An entire rat country lies beneath the streets of our major cities, imagines the Aardman writers, complete with electricity, policemen, and, of course, sewery canals. The little rat version of London is unknowingly about to be destroyed by a mob-boss-like toad with a grudge against the entire rat species.

Not such a problem, right? Rats have little going for them, and I personally hate them so much, the very sight of a rat has been known to make me burst into tears. Okay, that was before I knew that HUGH JACKMAN was a rat. Seriously, how adorable is that? A little suit-wearing Hugh Jackman rodent, with artsy hair and white, non-threatening teeth. A pet rat. A gentleman rat. A civilized rat.

Rather quickly into the film, Roddy the Rat (Jackman) gets “flushed away” into the heart of Rat London, meets up with Rita the Rat (a Kate Winslet rat with a red ponytail and a kickin’ bod), and both of them work together to get him back on his way “up top” to the surface. Each learns a little about each other and about themselves, etc. etc, and in the meantime, we are privy to some of the funniest jokes I’ve heard in an animated film in a very long time. Certainly funnier than Cars, Pixar’s achievement this year, and even a fair amount funnier than the Shrek installments.

Jean Reno is Le Frog, the mustachioed French thief, Ian McKellan is The Toad, the bad guy with the soft spot for the British royalty, and so many other good people are so many other funny characters that naming them all may ruin the effect. Americans are made fun of, the French are made fun of, and British soccer fans are probably made fun of, but we won’t get the references, just the sense that once in awhile a punchline about the World Cup is delivered with a brief pause afterwards that you realize should be filled with laughter. Do not despair, however, there are enough jokes that you WILL get – and enough jokes your kids will get – to make up for it. And if your kids insist on getting the DVD when it comes out, don’t roll your eyes. Flushed Away is a prime example of a layered film that will present new jokes every time you watch it.

Still skeptical because of the trailer? I don’t blame you. The trailer really only depicts rats and toilets, and although those are personally two of my very favorites, we can’t all be expected to leap into the car and slam down our hard-earned pay for a film that’s billed with a tagline of “Someone’s going down.” The potty humor is minimal, however, and eventually you’ll fall in love even with the scads of slimy sewer slugs that line the walls.

I feel sorry for the makers of Flushed Away, sitting there eating their treacle** and drinking their Earl Grey, watching the makers of Happy Feet get to stroll the red carpet on Oscar Night. A lot of effort was put into this film to make it lovable for kids and the rest of us, and it’s a shame they won’t get the credit they’re due. Although I guess if the pairing of the two companies produces the potential shown in this film, their future isn’t exactly “down the toilet,” if you know what I mean.

Oh, no, sorry. The jokes are far, far, far better than that. I promise.

*Shrek fans, I am SO prepared to argue this inexhaustibly.

**What’s treacle?

John Lasseter, 2006

I haven’t been good about watching movies lately because I’ve been hooked on "Veronica Mars". Every minute that I’m in my house, I want to be watching an episode. It took a trip to Raleigh to visit my friend Kate to get me away from Mars and into Cars.* Before I delve into my thoughts about Pixar’s newest feature film, I’d like to offer the caveat that I may have missed vital important plot points due to the TWENTY BABBLING BRATS BEHIND ME, which brings to mind the pillow I once cross-stitched that said “The worst thing about kids movies are the kids.”

But as usual, Pixar delivers a multilayered experience, fun for the parents, fun for the kids, and visually stunning to behold. Cars, however, even tops Pixar’s prior efforts by including the new “Redneck” layer, adding a whole compendium of NASCAR jokes of whose presence in the film I was dimly aware but whose subtleties I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Actually, to be honest, I didn’t find Cars nearly as funny or clever as its predecessors. It had one or two really standout characters – Mater the bucktoothed tow truck and Luigi and Guido, the Italian racing enthusiasts – but it didn’t quite barrage you with interesting stuff the way that Monsters, Inc. or Toy Story did (or The Incredibles or A Bug’s Life or Finding Nemo or basically anything they’ve ever done). It seems like Pixar chooses subjects that afford them a practically unlimited range of creativity, but the car theme got just a tad boring. There’s only so many fresh things you can do with a set of characters based on the nationality of their make and model (or the stereotypes of the people that typically drive them).

However! The theme of Cars was, as expected, a good lesson for kids but not a totally tired cliché for parents. Owen Wilson basically recycles his Shanghai Noon / Shanghai Knights character to play sensational racing rookie Lightning McQueen, but it works for him.** Bonnie Hunt got a little gipped with her personality-less character, Sally, the sexy Porsche who predictably wins Lightning’s heart, but Paul Newman was fantastic as Doc Hudson, the bristly old town judge.

I’m not going to spoil anything by telling you that Lightning McQueen is a little too cocky in the beginning and has to learn a lesson to care about others blah-de-blah. You’ll figure that out in the first thirty seconds. But the ending is not so cookie-cutter and catapults the movie from a three- to a four-star rating.

Toy Story taught audiences to stick around during Pixar final credits sequences, but Cars goes above and beyond the normal computer animated “bloopers” for some of the funniest cameos in the entire movie. It reminded me of my friend Kelly’s "Babysitting Strategy", where if you are a super-fun babysitter for the last hour that you’re there, the kids will forget how boring you were the rest of the time and report to their parents that they had a lot of fun. I left the theater wiping tears away (from laughter! I’m no softy!), and it took me a few days to realize that the first three quarters of the movie is kinda forgettable. But, again, I spent a lot of the movie vowing never to allow my future children to yell unchecked in a movie theater and visualizing myself getting up and giving the little rapscallion’s mother a piece of my mind,*** so I may have missed a few of the comedy gems that Pixar is famous for.

One final note: No one should ever, and I mean EVER, be allowed to use the tired old “Men will never ask for directions” gag EVER AGAIN. They might as well have thrown in a bit about women drivers.

*HAHAHA

**Although, Lightning had none of Wilson’s quirky good looks and was the most boring-looking character in the whole production. I also would have really appreciated a cameo of thoughtful, hot younger brother Luke, but it didn’t happen.

***I would never do it though. I kept thinking about how glad that poor mom probably was just to be out of the house and looking at something that wasn’t the g.d. Wiggles.