Hayao Miyazaki’s The Wind Rises was released in US cinemas ten years ago today. On February 21st 2014, what was then to be the legendary animator’s final film made its way to the US, being the last Studio Ghibli film released under Disney (similarly being one of the last films to be released under the ‘Touchstone’ banner before Disney retired the label).
The Wind Rises was sort of a quasi-biopic, telling a (largely fictionalized) story about the life of Jiro Horikoshi, a Japanese WWII airplane designer, and how the looming war would curse Jiro’s pure dreams of wanting to design beautiful flying machines. The film was a unique entry into Miyazaki’s catalogue, as it was the director’s first film since Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro to not feature any fantasy or sci-fi elements (though such elements were incredibly scarce in Porco Rosso, with the obvious exception of the main character’s face being magically transformed to that of a pig). But given the more serious subject matter of The Wind Rises, none of the characters perform physics-defying feats as those featured in Cagliostro or Porco Rosso.
That’s not to say that The Wind Rises didn’t feature any of Miyazaki’s fantastic animated wizardry, however. Miyazaki uses the literal idea of Jiro Horikoshi’s dreams to still give the film some surreal elements, as Jiro comes face-to-face with his future inventions and the man who inspired him, Giovanni Battista Caproni.
Like all of Miyazaki’s films, The Wind Rises is nothing short of a visual feast, featuring some of the most captivating hand-drawn animation you will ever see. The hauntingly beautiful images of the film (and the emotional musical score, courtesy of course by the one and only Joe Hisaishi) compliment the underlying melancholy throughout the film. The Wind Rises is a film about love, loss, and how the purity of our dreams can themselves be corrupted.
Miyazaki had previously attempted retirement with Princess Mononoke, before being inspired to create Spirited Away (itself going to be a “one-time return” before Miyazaki stepped back into retirement). Howl’s Moving Castle and Ponyo would follow after that, but with The Wind Rises, Miyazaki seemed to be ready to retire once again. Thankfully for the rest of us, even that retirement didn’t stick (though it did last longer than the director’s previous attempts), as in 2023 Hayao Miyazaki released his latest masterpiece, The Boy and the Heron (known by the more appropriate title ‘How do you Live?’ in its native Japan). Though The Wind Rises didn’t end up being the master filmmaker’s swansong, it would have been a fitting way to wrap up an unparalleled career. It is a most beautiful film.
Illumination Studios has grown into one of the world’s most prominent names in animation, due in no small part to their wildly successful Despicable Me and Minions franchises. Illumination found its greatest success when teaming with Nintendo to create 2023’s The Super Mario Bros. Movie. The follow-up to Illumination’s Nintendo adaptation was a movie about ducks (leading to many a Duck Hunt joke) titled ‘Migration.’
Illumination has often faced criticisms for the simplicity of their pictures, with many feeling the studio’s works are too light in this day and age when mainstream animation – under the influence of Pixar – is more willing than ever to deliver deep, emotional storytelling. Though is it really so terrible that Illumination doesn’t aim so high? The past couple of decades have been a goldmine for cinematic animated artistry, yes. But does that mean everything animated has to strive to be a masterpiece? Sometimes smaller, more lighthearted animated fair is enough. I feel Illumination fills this niche nicely. While Pixar and other contemporaries often aim to create the next animated masterpiece, Illumination serves up simple, harmless entertainments. Rarely standout but never terrible. And Migration once again fills this role, playing as a sort of ‘Finding Nemo Lite.’
Migration tells the story of the Mallards, a family of ducks who have lived a sheltered life in their secluded pond, mainly due to their worried and anxious patriarch, Mack (Kumail Nanjiani). Mack’s wife Pam (Elizabeth Banks) wishes for a more eventful life for the family, especially their two children, Dax (Caspar Jennings) and Gwen (Tresi Gazal). Despite longing for something more, the Mallard family still seem mostly accepting with their safe life, until another family of ducks stops by the pond during their migration to Jamaica. The mallards wish to join the migration, except for Mack, who fears leaving the comfort of his home. Mack eventually changes his mind after a conversation with Uncle Dan (Danny DeVito), and Mack realizes he doesn’t want himself – or his family – to end up like the slovenly uncle. So in the middle of the night, Mack wakes his family (Uncle Dan included) to get an early start and try to catch up with the other ducks on their way to Jamaica. But the migration is anything but simple, with cooky herons, a gang of street pigeons and a sinister chef being just some of the dangers the Mallards will encounter, making Mack question his decision to leave his home.
Like Illumination’s other works, Migration is a very simple movie. As stated, the film echoes similar themes to Finding Nemo (an overly cautious father leaves the comfort of his home and goes on an adventure for the sake of his family), but Migration lacks the Pixar classic’s emotional weight and complexity. Kids will probably love the colorful characters, and while adults may find some enjoyment out of Migration, they probably won’t be shedding any tears like they might for Nemo.
Also like Illumination’s other works, that hardly seems to matter. Migration excels in the usual areas Illumination movies excel at: vibrant, eye-popping animation, fun characters with well-cast voices (I especially like Gwen and Uncle Dan), and lighthearted humor. It also has a surprisingly good musical score. In short: Migration is a fun movie.
Those who are hoping Migration may be the movie that (ironically) gets Illumination out of their comfort zone will be disappointed to know that the film is another safe entry in the studio’s canon (even the studio’s best film, The Super Mario Bros. Movie, was a safe movie that was elevated mostly due to the world and characters Nintendo created, as opposed to what Illumination themselves brought to the table). Those who accept and appreciate Illumination for what it is and the role it fills in today’s world of animation will find a movie that – while maybe nothing special – is undeniably charming and fun. More importantly, kids should really like it.
Aardman continued to make feature films (including the much-beloved Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit) as well as shorts and even entire series (such as Shaun the Sheep, which has since had two acclaimed films of its own), but Chicken Run was put on the backburner for many years. In 2018, production of a sequel was officially announced, and in December 2023, twenty-three years after the original left its mark in animation history, Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget was finally released (unfortunately going straight to Netflix in the United States). After more than two decades of waiting, expectations were naturally high for a sequel to a movie as universally enjoyed as Chicken Run. Sadly, while Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget gives a solid effort, it ultimately comes across like a shadow of its predecessor, leaving you wondering why it took so long in the first place.
Set a few years after the events of the first film, Dawn of the Nugget begins with the hatching of Molly (Bella Ramsey), daughter of the first film’s heroes, Ginger (Thandiwe Newton, replacing Julia Sawalha) and Rocky (Zachary Levi, replacing Mel Gibson…because Mel Gibson). Though they and the rest of the chickens who escaped from Tweedy’s farm now live in a bird paradise on an isolated island in the middle of a lake, Ginger still has nightmares of her days on the farm, and shelters Molly from the knowledge of humans and the dangers of the world outside the island. Of course, this only makes Molly want to explore the outside world all the more, especially when she sees trucks from “Fun-Land Farms” driving in the distance, adorned with the face of a smiling chicken. One day, Ginger’s overprotectiveness becomes too much, and Molly escapes the island to pursue the trucks. Ginger, Rocky and the others give chase, but arrive just as Molly is snatched up by one of the Fun-Land Farm trucks. With Molly and her new friend Frizzle (Josie Sedgwick-Davies) taken to the high-tech, safely guarded farm, Ginger and company hatch a plan to break into the facility and rescue Molly.
“One of the sequel’s real deviations from the first film is that the chickens in Fun-Land Farms are brainwashed into loving the farm. Happy chickens means more tender, juicier meat, you see.”
On paper, it’s a fun twist on the first Chicken Run’s story: instead of breaking out of a farm, the chickens are breaking in. Unfortunately, while the premise for the first film allowed the chickens to make several (creative) failed attempts before ultimately succeeding, here the chickens break in pretty quickly on their first try, with the film then having the characters separate and regroup numerous times while simultaneously running away from the bad guys, most notably a returning Mrs. Tweedy (Miranda Richardson). I can’t help but feel the film could have made the task of getting into Fun-Land Farms a bigger ordeal in itself, especially given how it’s presented as a Mission: Impossible-style labyrinth, whereas the farm in the first movie was just a regular farm.
“Mrs. Tweedy is now decked out like a James Bond villain. To go with the more high-tech setting, I guess?”
This setup also means that the supporting characters have much less to do. Brainy Scottish chicken Mac (Lynn Ferguson), cynical Bunty (Imelda Staunton), dimwitted but good-natured Babs (Jane Horrocks), elderly rooster Fowler (David Bradley) and conmen rats Nick and Fletcher (Romesh Ranganathan and Daniel Mays) all make a return (the latter three with new voice actors). But with the break-in coming so easily, most of them just kind of end up wandering around the facility before bumping into each other again. Perhaps if more time were dedicated to the group of chickens (and rats) plotting how to break into Fun-Land Farms, these characters may have had more to do.
Again, the concept of flipping the premise of the first film around seems like a fun idea on paper, but Dawn of the Nugget doesn’t make the most of that reverse-premise, and so feels like a missed opportunity. It’s never bad, but when you remember just how big of a deal the original Chicken Run was, it does feel a bit underwhelming. Even the set pieces can feel a little like retreads of what came before.
The film looks and sounds great though. While some of the vocal recasting may be a little distracting (though some can’t be helped), the voice acting is still solid, as is the musical score. The main attraction, however, is the animation itself. Stop-motion animation is the most tedious and time-consuming of filmmaking methods, and it’s nothing short of miraculous what Aardman is able to do with the medium. While computer effects are used to some effect, the character animations themselves were all painstakingly done by hand. But the characters all move and work together so smoothly, you’d be forgiven for thinking that maybe Aardman simply replicated the plasticine look of old with computer animation. But this is the genuine, stop-motion article. And it’s one of the smoothest stop-motion films yet seen.
Therein lies a little bit of concern though. In the past, Aardman managed to combine their stop-motion wizardry with top-notch storytelling and witty writing. While Dawn of the Nugget has some funny lines of dialogue and a few effective visual gags, it never reaches the heights of its predecessor of twenty-three years prior in these regards. After Nick Park himself – the creator of Wallace and Gromit and director of the original Chicken Run – made something of a disappointment with his most recent film, Early Man (2018), you can’t help but feel something has been lost over the years. The Shaun the Sheep movies (and series, for that matter) still have that Aardman magic, so it thankfully hasn’t been completely lost. But you can’t help but miss the consistency Aardman used to boast seemingly effortlessly.
Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget is an okay movie, if you can view it for what it is without comparing it to what came before. But that’s especially hard to do considering the film features more than one recap of the events of its far superior predecessor. Chicken Run remains a stop-motion classic twenty-three years later. Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget may give an honest effort, but Chicken Run deserved better from its sequel.
2023 marks the one-hundredth anniversary of Walt Disney Animation Studios. Disney has pulled out all the stops when celebrating such a monumental milestone, as seen in their new opening logo introducing their films, merchandising, and the surprisingly heartfelt short film, Once Upon a Studio. But the single biggest means of celebration Disney has made in honor of the studio’s centennial is creating an entire feature film for the occasion: Wish.
Serving as the centennial film for Walt Disney Animation Studios, Wish plays out like a loving tribute to its studio’s unparalleled legacy. From its countless references and Easter eggs (some subtle, some blatant) to its more traditional narrative and character archetypes, Wish really does feel like a celebration of all things Disney Animation. While that may unfortunately mean that Wish is the safest Disney feature in some time, it’s also one of the studio’s most charming and heartwarming. Art doesn’t always have to reinvent itself to stand out. Sometimes, a celebration of something we love is more than enough.
The story takes place in the kingdom of Rosas, a Mediterranean kingdom where people from across the world come to visit for a very special reason: to have their wishes come true. The handsome king of Rosas, Magnifico (who bears a striking resemblance to his voice actor, Chris Pine) is also a powerful sorcerer who has the ability to take people’s wishes from their hearts (making said individuals “forget without regret” about their wishes), which he can then make a reality at a later time during monthly “wish-granting ceremonies”.
A young woman named Asha (Ariana DeBose) is in the running to become Magnifico’s new apprentice on the day of her grandfather Sabino’s (Victor Garber) 100th birthday. During her job interview (or whatever you would call an interview for a sorcerer king’s apprenticeship), Asha asks Magnifico to grant her grandfather’s long-overdue wish. But Magnifico reveals the wish to be “too vague” and, as such, he perceives it could pose a potential threat to his rule if granted. Magnifico then reveals that only the wishes he deems worthy will ever be granted. Asha believes the un-granted wished should be returned to those who wished them, so that they can remember them and pursue their wishes themselves, but Magnifico objects. This causes an immediate rift between the two, after which Magnifico reveals he will never grant Asha’s grandfather’s – and now, her mother’s – wishes. Suffice to say, Asha doesn’t get the job.
Feeling the people of Rosas are being wronged by the king, Asha wishes on a star for something better for the people of the kingdom. The stars hear her wish, and an adorable, sentient star (simply named ‘Star’ by Asha) comes to Earth and grants a goat named Valentino the ability to speak (in the voice of the perennial Alan Tudyk). From there, Asha, Valentino and Star set out to retrieve the wishes from King Magnifico and give them back to the citizens of Rosas. Meanwhile, Magnifico plots to steal Star’s power for himself.
The film harkens back to the old days of Disney, with a simple plot and clear-cut good guys and bad guys, but I greatly enjoy the whimsical concept of the film, and it does feature a bit of a twist in regard to its villain.
Disney advertised Magnifico as a return to the “classic” Disney villain, though I think that does the character a disservice. While the classic Disney villains were blatantly evil from the get-go, Magnifico has a stronger character arc that gives him a backstory that makes you at least understand where his ego comes from (even if you don’t agree with it). We see him go from being selfish but believing himself to be good, to falling more and more to the dark side the more he feels his power is threatened. He feels more like the start of a new kind of Disney villain than a simple throwback.
Where the film may harken back to the Disney of old in not the most positive way is that the villain is more interesting than the hero. I like Asha as a character, and Ariana DeBose’s voice work is top notch, but I feel the film needed more time to properly introduce her. Her introductory scene is brief, and pretty soon afterwards she’s entangled in everything with King Magnifico. Asha is a very likable character in terms of personality, but there’s not much uniqueness established with her. Considering how strongly defined more recent Disney heroes like Anna, Elsa, Wreck-It Ralph or Mirabel have been, it is a bit unfortunate that Wish couldn’t have found a little more time to dedicate to Asha as a character.
Valentino and Star, having bigger roles, are the more memorable sidekick characters. It’s nice to hear Alan Tudyk get a full speaking role in a Disney movie again, after merely making animal noises in Encanto and Raya and the Last Dragon, and brief cameos in Strange World. Star, in particular, is the highlight of the whole movie (the “Star” if you will). Simply put, I think he’s the single cutest character to ever appear in a Disney movie. Between his cheek-pinchingly adorable character design, playful personality and penchant for playing with a ball of yarn, he puts a smile on my face every time he’s on screen. He’s like something from the world of Nintendo found his way into a Disney movie. And I can’t get enough of him.
After the characters and story, the songs are probably the thing most audiences look forward to in a Disney movie, and thankfully, this is an area where Wish really shines. The film features songs written by Julia Michaels, who gives the songs a distinct flavor from previous Disney soundtracks, while retaining their signature catchiness. While we get our usual “I want” song from Asha in This Wish and a villainous number in This is the Thanks I Get?, they are some of the better entries in their respective categories. Some of the songs have an almost dream-like quality about them, such as At All Costs (which sees Magnifico introduce Asha to the wishes of Rosas) and A Wish Worth Making (which plays over the end credits). A surprise standout is What I Know Now, which puts an interesting spin on traditional Disney villain songs in that it isn’t sung by the villain, but about him by the other characters. This may prove to be an unpopular opinion, but even though I liked the soundtrack to Encanto, I think Wish’s songs stand out a lot more from its immediate Disney musical predecessor.
Complimenting the soundtrack (and the aforementioned ‘dream-like’ quality) are the film’s visuals. Wish is intended to mimic the look of Disney films new and old, and does so by echoing the hand-painted watercolors of Disney’s yesteryear through cel-shaded CG animation. The effect may take a moment or two to get used to, but once you do, it’s easy to get absorbed in the film’s visual delights. In a time when it seems every animated film is merely trying to ape the Spider-Verse (“lowered framerate = stylized, right?”), it’s nice to see Disney try something new for themselves that also doesn’t just copy what everyone else is doing. Wish is simply a beautiful film to look at.
The character designs for the main and supporting cast are also fun and memorable. Again, Star’s cuteness can’t be overstated, it’s fun to see how the Seven Dwarfs’ personalities were adapted into new characters, and the two key characters of Asha and Magnifico stand out in the Disney canon. The background characters are a bit bland, however (not that that’s going to make or break an animated film).
Going back to the film’s celebratory nature, hardcore Disney fans will have a ball trying to spot all the big and little references to Disney’s past. Some of these callbacks are a bit on the nose (a reference to Peter Pan towards the film’s end is maybe too blatant), but most of them are really fun. You could argue that the film leans heavily into nostalgia, and that’s fair. But again, Wish is a film that has the unprecedented honor of respecting an animation studio’s one-hundredth anniversary. That sense of nostalgia may mean Wish has a little less of its own identity in the Disney Animation canon, but sometimes it’s fun to enjoy something that clearly enjoys its legacy. And when that legacy includes the likes of Pinocchio, Beauty and the Beast and Moana, it’s hard to complain too much.
I think if Wish has any notable issue, it’s just that it could have used a longer runtime. The whole film clocks in at barely over an hour and a half. Some of Disney’s more recent films have gone fifteen or so minutes over that (and some Pixar films have surpassed the two-hour mark). Seeing as most of the issues I’ve brought up can be summed up with “more time could have been used here” I think making the film even a little bit longer would have ironed things out. Asha, her friends, and a few scenes and sub-plots could have benefitted greatly with just a few extra minutes. I still think Wish is a wonderful movie, the kind of movie that makes my inner child happy. But with a little extra time to properly develop all of its elements, it could have been one of the absolute best Disney films.
Maybe Wish isn’t the masterpiece that Disney may have wanted for its centennial, but it’s nonetheless a fun, joyous and beautiful film that does a great job at honoring those one-hundred years of timeless stories and iconic characters (and I feel it’s quickly becoming Disney’s most underrated animated feature). I hope that, despite its hiccups, the filmmakers are proud of what they accomplished with Wish.
Any movie that creates a character as cute as Star is something special in my book.
*Caution: spoilers for a ten-year old billion-dollar movie ahead. *
Believe it or not, but Disney’s Frozen turns a decade old today!
That’s right, November 27th 2023 marks the ten-year anniversary of the release of Frozen! It’s been ten full years since Anna, Elsa and Olaf essentially conquered the world. Ten years since Frozen turned Disney’s conventions on their head. Ten years since the beginning of a cultural phenomenon that people (ironically enough) can’t let go.
Okay, so if we’re going to be really technical, Frozen was released early at the Disney-owned El Capitan Theater in LA on November 19th 2013. But come on, that’s one location. The date it was released everywhere is the proper anniversary, as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, moving on…
I don’t think Disney could have known, even in their wildest dreams, just how much of an impact Frozen would have. Based on the film’s marketing, they didn’t even seem to know how to advertise it. The teaser that played before Monsters University showcased a snowman (later identified as Olaf) and a reindeer (later identified as Sven) fighting over a carrot. It was fun, sure. But not exactly something that told you anything about the movie (note the absence of the main characters). And let’s say nothing about the commercials that played closer to the film’s release, which contained sugary pop music that was (thankfully) nowhere to be found in the film itself.
Upon release, however, Frozen became an instant critical and commercial hit. While many movies have strong openings, Frozen proved to be one of those rare films that picked up more steam over time, via word-of-mouth and repeat viewings. Frozen would eventually not only become the highest-grossing film of 2013, but surpassed Toy Story 3 to become the most successful animated film in history (and for a moment in time, one of the top five highest-grossing films in the world). It has since only been surpassed by its own sequel, The Super Mario Bros. Movie and an over-marketed (and disappointing) Lion King remake in terms of box office numbers for an animated film.
The best part? Frozen was one of those cases where the success and popularity of something was completely deserved. Because Frozen was an all-around excellent movie.
Frozen currently sits in that weird place where it’s become so popular, that we can kind of forget why it became so beloved in the first place. Frozen not only boasted the things we usually love from the best Disney movies (a heartwarming story, beautiful animation, and catchy songs), but also broke and rewrote many Disney traditions.
The first of these changes, and perhaps the most subtle, is that Frozen was a much more character-driven film than most of Disney’s (non-Pixar) features. With all due respect to the many classics that have come from Disney animation, the characters usually fit neatly into their archetypes, and exist to push the story forward. Frozen felt like a refreshing reversal, with a story that was built more around the characters, their personalities, and their relationships.
Frozen was also the first Disney film to feature two princesses, which in itself was actually a pretty big diversion from Disney norms (which seemed to have an unwritten rule that they required both a male and female lead). The two princesses in question were Anna and Elsa (the latter of which becomes a queen early on, before you try to correct me on that), two sisters who served as the heart of the story, as opposed to the romance-centric plot of…basically every Disney movie beforehand. There’s a rift caused between the two sisters, with Elsa hiding her icy magic powers from her sister after an accident nearly cost Anna her life as a kid. Anna is brave and stalwart, but also kind of clumsy and naive. Elsa is powerful and independent, but scared and depressed. Compare them with the previous Disney princess, Rapunzel from 2010’s Tangled (a character and film I love, by the way) – who was basically good at everything and essentially perfect – and almost immediately there’s something deeper and more relatable to Frozen.
The big twist in Frozen (and indeed, the best twist in any Disney film) is that it’s the love between the two sisters that ultimately saves the day. Elsa is the (unwitting) antagonist of the story, but putting a twist of the Disney tradition of evil queens/sorcerers, is someone who just needs to be loved and accepted, as opposed to defeated. Romance is not at the heart of the story (though still present), but rather familial love. Or love in general. Coming from someone who loves Disney movies, I have to admit it got a little tiring when the idea of two hot people kissing always signified the happily ever after.
Elsa would be totally void of any romantic connections (leading to many on social media to campaign for Disney to “give Elsa a girlfriend.” Though I find that idea entirely misses the point of the character and story. Elsa is best left alone). Anna would get two potential suitors in the film though: Kristoff ends up being a genuinely great guy, even if he’s a bit of an oaf. But her first choice, Prince Hans, ends up being a literal villain. In one swoop, Hans breaks all kinds of Disney norms: not only does he serve as a commentary on Disney’s own history, but also uniquely serves as a villain more for thematic purposes (again, Elsa is the antagonist of the story). You might say that altering the Disney Prince archetype by making the character evil is a tad extreme, but I see that as a good thing. When else has Disney ever done such an extreme flipping of its own script? This is the kind of “subverting expectations” that Rian Johnson desperately wishes he could do, but never has.
Then there’s Olaf, the talking snowman who, while still fitting comfortably in the Disney sidekick role, proves himself memorable for how he actually has an emotional connection with the main characters (he was the imaginary friend Elsa made up for Anna to play with, now come to life). Considering most Disney sidekicks of the previous few decades had just been scene-chewers for the heck of it in an attempt to recapture the magic of Aladdin’s Genie, the more childlike Olaf was a good change of pace.
Frozen’s ability to break away from Disney’s conventions played a large part in its success (though Frozen II was a wonderful and worthy successor, the fact that it couldn’t replicate the first film’s tinkering with tradition did prevent it from standing as tall). And yet, despite how liberated Frozen felt from Disney’s usual playbook, it also served as a celebration of the things we love about Disney movies. It respected its legacy while also admitting to its faults.
As a nice little bow on top, Frozen was even shown with a Mickey Mouse short: the sublime “Get a Horse!” The short in itself is a mini-masterpiece, and the best Mickey Mouse cartoon, as far as I’m concerned. A perfect way to compliment the film that followed.
It’s hard to believe it’s been ten years since Frozen first thawed our (frozen) hearts. In my humble opinion, it still represents the absolute peak of Walt Disney Animation Studios and yes, is one of my favorite films. Period.
Perhaps a perfect (personal) example of how impactful Frozen was (and is) happened sometime in early 2014. I was walking my dog, and some dude in sunglasses was driving by with the film’s most famous song, Let It Go, playing at full blast. I said something along the lines of “Woo! Frozen!” and the guy driving just turns to me and nods his head in respect. Like I said, Frozen was a film that brought people together through a shared sense of joy. What more can you ask for?
In 2018, Sony Pictures Animation released Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse under rather unique circumstances (Sony still had the rights to make Spider-Man movies due to prematurely ending their “Amazing Spider-Man” series, despite Marvel picking up Spider-Man for the MCU). The world certainly has no shortage of Spider-Man films, and that overabundance seemingly inspired Sony Pictures Animation to go crazy with Into the Spider-Verse, focusing on a much newer Spider-Man character in Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) and featuring a unique animation style that looked to mimic the visuals of a comic book for the silver screen. The result was not only the most acclaimed Spider-Man film since Spider-Man 2 (2004), but in the years since, Into the Spider-Verse has seemingly had a profound impact on the style and look of animated films going forward, for better or for worse.
Shortly after release, Sony announced that Into the Spider-Verse was now the first part of a trilogy, with two planned sequels (and a spinoff) to be created. The first of those follow-ups, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, was released in the Summer of 2023, and became an even bigger critical and commercial hit than its predecessor. Upon an initial viewing, it’s easy to get caught up in the hype of Across the Spider-Verse, but unlike its predecessor, it doesn’t hold up quite so well with repeat viewings. Part of that may be its status as the second entry in a trilogy that wasn’t originally a trilogy, giving it a strong sense of what I like to call “Dead Man’s Chest Syndrome.” And perhaps the other part of it is because Across the Spider-Verse is probably its own biggest fan.
Set one year after the events of the first film, Miles Morales has fit into his role as Spider-Man (after saving the multiverse, taking down small time criminals is a cakewalk), though his personal life is feeling the effects of his commitment to his secret identity. His grades are slipping, and he’s missing important gatherings (like his father’s celebration of being promoted to police captain). It’s the usual kind of Spider-Man setup, but it’s a setup that works. The fact that we often see Spider-Man (whether it be Miles Morales or Peter Parker) struggling with his personal life because of his heroics is what has made him such an endearing hero.
Unfortunately for Miles, he has even bigger things to worry about. Although Kingpin’s multiverse tampering has been dealt with, different dimensions are still feeling its effects. Anomalies are appearing all over the multiverse, with villains from one dimension appearing in another, things of that nature. To combat this, an elite group of Spider-People has formed the “Spider-Force” to try and set things right in the interconnected cosmos. Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), the Spider-Woman of another universe, becomes part of this group of interdimensional Spider-Beings, and re-enters Miles’ life.
“Should I be wearing 3D glasses right now or something?”
Gwen is back in Miles’ dimension to track down a particularly powerful anomaly known as The Spot (Jason Schwartzman), a villain inadvertently created by Miles during the events of the first movie, and who possesses the power to travel across space (and even other realities) with the cartoon holes his body produces. Miles wishes to become a member of the Spider-Force, but Gwen objects. Still, Miles gets caught up with everything as he follows Gwen in pursuit of Spot, and ends up in a multiverse-hopping adventure that sees him meet up with an endless barrage of Spider-People including cowboy, dinosaur and vehicular Spider-Men.
During his adventure, Miles is also reunited with Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson) – who is now the father of a Spider-Baby – and meets Spider-Man India (Karan Soni), an expecting mother Spider-Woman (Issa Rae), a punk rock Spider-Man named Spider-Punk (Daniel Kaluuya), and the leader of the Spider-Force, a “ninja vampire” Spider-Man named Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac). It’s with Miguel that the film’s real conflict begins, as Miles butts heads with the Spider-Force leader over their sense of moral duty. Miguel insists there are “canon events” that connect every Spider-Man’s story that must be followed, no matter how tragic, whereas Miles believes they can find a way to prevent such tragedies.
“Despite being described as a “ninja vampire,” we barely see the vampire side of Miguel, and none of the ninja side.”
I have to give the film credit, since these Spider-Verse movies are basically the only time any multiverse story has made me care at all about the stories they’re telling. Usually, multiverse stories are, by their very nature, entirely inconsequential and have zero stakes (just look at how the Disney+ series Loki utterly eviscerated every piece of world-building in the MCU with the multiverse concept). Not to mention the idea of a multiverse is usually creatively lazy, and is only a cheap means to cut corners (fans angry a character died? Just bring them back with a “different universe version!” Risk alienating fans by having your characters develop and grow? Just introduce a different version of the character from another universe to show a different side and keep the existing character the same!). Simply put, I find that the entire multiverse concept is basically what happens when uncreative people force themselves to make something they think is mind-bendingly creative, but in actuality isn’t (case in point: the undeservedly self-important slog that was Everything, Everywhere All at Once). So the fact that the Spider-Verse films actually make me care is in itself a minor miracle.
With that said, the idea of a multiversal police force that tries to prevent universes from going off course is basically the premise of every multiverse story ever. And the idea of the main character butting heads with said police force being the fundamental conflict is equally as cliche. While Across the Spider-Verse likes to present such ideas as big plot twists, it does come across as pretty darn predictable. That’s all the more a shame, because the first Spider-Verse film actually flowed in a much more unique way, with the audience being taken through the story directly by Miles’ perspective, learning all the details as they became apparent to him as opposed to explaining things away from him (it only ever cut away to other characters when absolutely necessary). By comparison, Across the Spider-Verse is much more traditional with how it tells its story.
It should also be pointed out that Across the Spider-Verse sits at a two-and-a-half-hour runtime, the longest of any western animated feature to date. While I’m happy to see animated films finally get the recognition they deserve by the simple fact that they’re allowed to be this long, I can’t help but feel that, in the case of Across the Spider-Verse, it feels more than a little indulgent. Especially when the film ends on a cliffhanger and ultimately only accomplishes setting up its own sequel. As mentioned, it’s basically the animated world’s equivalent of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest in that regard. Much longer than it needs to be, and when all is said and done you feel like you just watched an advertisement for the next movie in the series, no matter how much fun this entry may be (I personally enjoy Dead Man’s Chest, and objectively speaking Across the Spider-Verse is a better movie than that). I can’t help but feel like Across the Spider-Verse bought into its own hype in this regard (it probably doesn’t help this ego problem that the film briefly features a Lego universe, which is cute until you remember that producers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller directed The Lego Movie, and it feels more like a self-congratulatory pat on the back than a fun reference).
Okay, by now I’m probably sounding so negative about a beloved movie I sound like one of those generic, contrarian YouTubers. But I’m not saying Across the Spider-Verse is bad by any means (in fact, it’s quite good), just that I don’t think it’s the creative revolution for animated storytelling I feel it’s made out to be. Or that it believes itself to be. I even think it falls short of its predecessor (the army of Spider-People introduced here aren’t as fun as the small ragtag group in the first film). But rest assured Across the Spider-Verse still serves up one of the better superhero offerings in recent years, and the film broadens its visual palette with the many different spider-people and the universes they stem from.
The film is a visual feast, not only resurrecting the comic book look of the first film, but utilizing its greater scope to cover all kinds of different art styles (a renaissance painting version of the villainous Vulture appears early on, and is so much fun to look at I wish he had a bigger role in the film). Gwen Stacey’s universe is a world where color splashes seem reflective of the emotions of the characters around them. And in one of the film’s best visual gags, the 1960s animated Spider-Man makes a brief cameo, with all the limitations of movement he had back in the day. Across the Spider-Verse is simply one of those animated films you can get instantly absorbed into based on the visuals alone. I may not always like the “Spider-Versification” of other animated films these days, but the Spider-Verse films themselves really know how to make things pop.
Another highlight of the film is its villain: The Spot. A long-standing but obscure villain from Spider-Man’s history, Across the Spider-Verse does a great job playing off the character’s inherit goofiness (it’s hard to take a villain named “The Spot” too seriously), while still making him a credible threat. He’s presented as a kind of lame would-be villain who’s in over his head. But one whose abilities and sheer determination to prove himself a villain make him dangerous. I often find the best villains are the ones who can be funny and sympathetic, but that possess the capacity for evil. And The Spot is such a villain. He’s something of a bumbling buffoon but is so singularly focused on being treated seriously and getting his perceived revenge on Spider-Man, that he becomes a threat. Into the Spider-Verse’s Kingpin had brief glimpses of greatness but felt a little shortchanged in the big picture. So I think if Across the Spider-Verse betters its predecessor in any way, it’s in that it creates a much more fleshed out villain.
Much like the first film, the voice cast remains stellar: Moore, Steinfeld and Johnson are all back in full swing, and the additions of Schwartzman, Kaluuya and Isaac only add to the film (yes, I know Isaac had a cameo in the mid-credits scene of the first movie, but now it’s a full role). I think special mention has to go to Brian Tyree Henry as Miles’ father, Jeff Morales, who gives the film its heart and gives the role a kind of warmth you don’t often see in the parental figures in animation. Also of note, J. K. Simmons voices all the various forms of Daily Bugel newspaperman J. Jonah Jameson, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that when he was cast in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man more than two decades ago, that it was one of the few actor/role marriages that can simply be described as “perfect.”
In the end, I feel like there’s a lot of fun to be had with Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, and it’s a very well-made movie. But it falls short of the first film, and there’s something about it that does feel more than a little self-aggrandizing, as if it bought into the hype and acclaim of its predecessor more so than anyone else. And that self-aggrandizement feels a bit misplaced, seeing as, even at two-and-a-half hours, the only thing Across the Spider-Verse really accomplishes is setting up its sequel, Beyond the Spider-Verse.
Across the Spider-Verse may be the best movie that suffers from Dead Man’s Chest Syndrome, but it still kind of puts a ceiling on how high it can go. It’s a really good animated film in a lot of ways, but maybe not the all-time classic it believes itself to be.
Ever since it revolutionized animation with the release of its first feature film Toy Story in 1995, Pixar Animation Studios has become one of the most esteemed studios in its medium. Pixar’s penchant of combining masterful storytelling, heartfelt emotion, imaginative concepts and state-of-the-art animation has given them a pedigree that’s rivaled only by sister studio Walt Disney Animation and Japan’s Studio Ghibli. The 2000s in particular showcased Pixar at the height of their powers, releasing a string of all-time classics and rarely putting a foot wrong in that entire decade. Though Pixar hasn’t been quite as consistent in the years since, they still have on occasion released films as great as any they’ve ever made, such as Inside Out or Coco. Pixar’s most recent film, Elemental, certainly doesn’t reach the insane heights of a Coco or an Inside Out, but it is a marked improvement over its direct predecessor in Lightyear, giving hope that Pixar may yet soon return to their former consistency.
Elemental is the most recent example of Pixar using a more abstract concept for the basis of a story, following the likes of Soul and the aforementioned Inside Out. While those films used the concepts of souls and emotions brought to life with cute, blobby figures, Elemental does something similar with the idea of the four elements: Earth, Fire, Wind and Water.
Elemental is set in the bluntly named Element City, a place where people of all four elements coexist. Or at least try to coexist. Water seems to be the most prominent of the elemental races, with most of Element City built to cater to them. Earth and Wind make up the middle class, while the Fire people are mostly relegated to their own self-contained neighborhoods. Right away the social commentary is rather upfront, but well-meaning. The commentary is so obvious, in fact, that many audiences compared Elemental to the similarly themed Zootopia based on the trailer alone. It isn’t a farfetched comparison, either. Though to its benefit, at least Elemental doesn’t undermine its own message by basing a good chunk of its humor on stereotypes.
The story of the film focuses on Ember Lumen (Leah Lewis) a young fire woman and daughter of two immigrants: Bernie (Ronnie del Carmen) and Cinder (Shila Ommi), who own a store called “The Fireplace” in the middle of Fire Town in Element City (naming is not the film’s strong suit). Ember is set to inherit her father’s store with Bernie’s impending retirement, which he has continuously put off until he felt his daughter was ready. Things get even more complicated for Ember when a water element named Wade Ripple (Mamoudou Athie), a city inspector, enters her life via leaky pipe. Though Wade’s own inspection dictates the Fireplace should be closed down, he empathizes with Ember’s plight, and the two set out to find the reason why water is leaking into the Fireplace in order to save the store. Along the way, a romance begins to blossom between this fire and water couple, and Ember begins to realize that inheriting her father’s store may not be what she truly wants.
I think Elemental tells a cute story that has a lot of fun moments, but something about it just doesn’t quite click in the way the best Pixar movies do. Individually, I like all the stories at play: Ember trying to live up to her father’s wishes, the story of an immigrant family presented via elemental blobs, and even Ember’s romance with Wade. But I don’t think the overall film is greater (or even equal to) the sum of all those parts. Though it’s far from the most complex Pixar movie, Elemental feels like it doesn’t always know how to bring these simple stories together. It plays like a small series of good films that come together to form an okay one.
Another issue I find myself going back to whenever thinking about Elemental is that I think the film should have come up with a story that better utilized all four elements. Obviously, water and fire create the most blatant contrast. But with a concept that’s literally comprised of only four pieces, it feels like a glaring omission to only focus on half of the equation. The best wind gets is Wade’s employer Gale (Wendi McLendon-Covey), who is fun but doesn’t get a whole lot of screentime. Wind is still better off than poor earth, whose most prominent character is a kid named Clod (Mason Wertheimer), who has a crush on Ember which is established early in the picture, after which Clod disappears almost entirely before the film remembers him for the finale.
While Elemental may not make the most out of its concept on a narrative level, it certainly takes no shortcuts when it comes to the visuals. Elemental should rank as one of Pixar’s best-looking movies, and it’s here where the movie really shines.
Though the character designs are simple enough, the fact that they’re comprised of fire, water, air and earth gives the animators an excuse to just let loose and go crazy. Ember has a habit of melting and shaping glass, which is so mesmerizing I can forgive the movie for finding multiple excuses to showcase it. The water elements are always bobbing around and changing shape. My personal favorite visual gag happens early on, when a group of wind elementals exit a dirigible, thus deflating it to fall down to a lower level, where another group of wind elementals fill it back up and it takes off. Elemental is simply a beautiful and fun film to look at. And it does so without simply mimicking the “Spider-Verse” animation that’s already become overabundant in recent years.
Another highlight of the film that I don’t hear a lot of people talk about is the music. Though the score of Elemental is unlikely to conjure up the same emotions as past Pixar scores like Up or Wall-E, it does sound fittingly unique. It plays off a somewhat oddball selection of sounds that really fits with the film’s relatively abstract motif.
I think it’s safe to say that the best elements of Elemental (I went there) are in the aesthetics. It’s visually stunning and audibly fun (on top of the clever music mentioned above, it also has a good voice cast). It’s just a shame the film couldn’t quite reach that same creativity in terms of its story. Elemental is never a bad film, but I can’t help but feel it should have been a better one. It’s hard to believe we live in a time when a Pixar movie being “just okay” merely puts it in the middle of the Pixar echelon. There was a time when “just okay” would have been an unheard of low for the studio.
Not every Pixar movie has to be a masterpiece (if anything, my complaint with Lightyear was that it aimed too high, when all it needed to be was simple, Saturday morning-style entertainment). But we’re also getting to a point where I feel myself longing for the majesty of Pixar’s yesteryear a little too frequently. Elemental may not be the Pixar classic it could have been, but at least it proves that Pixar’s imagination hasn’t gone anywhere. And with it, the door is open and waiting for the next Pixar masterpiece to step through.
When it was announced that Illumination would be making a movie based on Nintendo’s flagship franchise, Super Mario Bros., fans were skeptical. Not only did Illumination seem like an odd fit for such an adaptation, but the Super Mario series – despite being the most successful and heralded series in video games – has had a rough history translating to other mediums. Millennials such as myself may have a nostalgic soft spot for The Super Mario Bros. Super Show, but it’s not exactly the kind of show you would refer to when thinking of quality television. More infamously, Hollywood’s first attempt at adapting Super Mario Bros. (and indeed, their first attempt at adapting video games) resulted in the infamous 1993 live-action film, which was so far removed from the source material that Nintendo wouldn’t let Hollywood anywhere near its franchises for decades afterward.
How happy I am that, thirty years after Super Mario’s disastrous first attempt at a big screen adaptation, Nintendo fans finally have a Super Mario movie they can be proud of. Illumination’s The Super Mario Bros. Movie is a faithful adaptation of gaming’s best series, and a love letter to its peerless history. The Super Mario Bros. Movie is (almost) everything fans could want out of a Mario movie.
In The Super Mario Bros. Movie, the titular brothers Mario (Chris Pratt) and Luigi (Charlie Day) have recently quit their job at the Wrecking Crew to start their own plumbing company. Mario is of course the headstrong and brave older brother, while Luigi is always well-meaning and supportive, but is more timid and lacks his brother’s strength. Both brothers live in a cramped apartment in Brooklyn with their parents and extended family, and though the brothers are optimistic and hopeful of their new plumbing ventures, their father (voiced by Charles Martinet, the voice of Mario in the video games) isn’t so supportive of their dreams. It doesn’t help that they are antagonized by their former boss, Foreman Spike (Sebastion Maniscalco).
The brothers Mario have the opportunity to prove their mettle at their new job, however, when a manhole leak floods Brooklyn. Mario and Luigi traverse the sewers to find the source of the problem, when they find themselves in a hidden chamber of seemingly abandoned pipes. One such pipe sucks the Mario Bros. into a ‘Warp Zone,’ where they become separated. Mario ends up in the magical realm of the Mushroom Kingdom, home of the mushroom-like Toads and the beautiful Princess Peach (Anya Taylor-Joy). Luigi, meanwhile, winds up in the Dark Lands, home of the Koopa Troop and ruled with an iron fist by King Bowser (Jack Black). Bowser has recently stolen a Super Star, with which he hopes to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom. So Mario joins up with Princess Peach, along with the adventurous Toad (Keagan-Michael Key) on a quest to the Jungle Kingdom to win the aide of the Kong army, in hopes of defeating Bowser’s forces, saving the Mushroom Kingdom and rescuing Luigi.
It’s an incredibly simple plot, and its simplicity seems to be the main point of criticism leveled towards the film. But I find that a baffling complaint in this particular instance. Were we expecting a Granted, I understand that movies are a medium built on storytelling (as opposed to video games, which can tell stories but are built on interactivity and gameplay ideas above all else) – and animated films in particular have become deeper and more complex since the turn on the century – so perhaps a little more story was expected by some, but is it really necessary here? I don’t know, if I’m seeing The Super Mario Bros. Movie, basically the two things I’m hoping for are that it’s a fun movie, and that it’s faithful to the games. And I reiterate that The Super Mario Bros. Movie succeeds wildly on both fronts.
The film is, first and foremost, a loving tribute to the perennial video game series, and its rich history. It probably doesn’t hurt that Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto personally oversaw the film, and serves as executive producer. But it also seems that the people at Illumination are big Nintendo fans in their own right and know their stuff. The film is packed to the brim with elements, Easter eggs, cameos and callbacks to just about every nook and cranny of the Super Mario universe (as well as its parent series, Donkey Kong).
Going into The Super Mario Bros. Movie, I was worried that it would end up being a case of only referencing the obvious, such as Super Mario Bros. and maybe Super Mario World and Mario Kart, since those are the ones everyone and their grandmother knows. But the folks at Illumination have a deep knowledge of the series and did their research, because it would be easier to name the Mario games that aren’t referenced or outright depicted than the many that are. Everything from Super Mario 64 to Luigi’s Mansion to The Super Mario Bros. Super Show gets a shoutout. And it’s pleasantly surprising that even more modern Mario games are mentioned like Super Mario Galaxy, 3D World, Donkey Kong Country Returns and a surprising number of references to Super Mario Odyssey. The presence of Foreman Spike alone is the kind of esoteric callback that Super Smash Bros. wouldn’t dare to make anymore.
The Super Mario Bros. Movie is effusive towards its source material, and that’s perhaps most present in the film’s soundtrack, which is sublime. Composed by Brian Tyler, the score to The Super Mario Bros. Movie is one of the best film scores in recent memory, no doubt aided by how it weaves in many of the timeless tunes from the video game series (which I won’t spoil here, but suffice to say the music also references every generation of Mario). The film also features some great original music as well. Perhaps my only gripe to the score is that a few popular songs are incorporated into a couple of moments in the movie (I would have stuck with original music and that from the games), but at least the songs used are all from the 80s, which feels more appropriate than if they had used music from today.
I also have to compliment the film’s voice cast. Although the casting became something of a meme when it was first announced (particularly Pratt as Mario), I think for the most part they do an excellent job. Pratt leans into the Brooklyn aspect of Mario and gives his voice more weight. Although he doesn’t sound like Charles Martinet, he actually does the job at making you forget it’s Chris Pratt you’re hearing. Charlie Day captures Luigi’s loveable and naive personality, while Anya Taylor-Joy gives Peach a rougher edge, but it works for this version of the character. Keagan-Michael Key has somehow found a way to make a ‘Toad voice’ that works for a feature film, and I think it goes without saying that Jack Black as Bowser ends up stealing the whole movie. Not only does Black sound unrecognizable for the most part (only weaving his natural voice into things when Bowser loses his cool, which is a nice touch), but he manages to capture Bowser’s personality as an insecure bully effortlessly.
Also in the cast are Seth Rogen as Donkey Kong, Fred Armisen as ‘King’ Cranky Kong, and Kevin Michael Richardson as Kamek. Armisen makes Cranky Kong appropriately, well, cranky. And Richardson has the unique position of giving Kamek a proper voice for the very first time, effectively making the character Bowser’s sycophantic lackey who wants nothing more than to make his boss happy. Seth Rogen is admittedly the one voice that maybe could have given more effort. Rogen does seem to try and add a more youthful energy to Donkey Kong than he does his other voice roles, but there are unfortunately two instances where we have to hear that damn laugh, which does kind of take you out of things a little. Still, it hardly ruins the movie.
Another highlight of the film is the animation itself. Illumination has a knack for making lively and vibrant animated worlds, and with Super Mario as the backdrop, it seems to be their perfect canvas. The Super Mario Bros. Movie is not only Illumination’s best-looking feature, but one of the most colorful visual spectacles in recent memory. Super Mario 3D World seems to be the primary inspiration for the film’s version of the Mushroom Kingdom, but all of Mario’s history is drawn upon visually to create a film that is pure joy to look at from the very first frame onwards.
The Super Mario Bros. Movie is, quite simply, a real treat. It’s a loving gift to the adults who grew up with Super Mario Bros. and for the children who are growing up with Super Mario Bros. Does the film make a few missteps? Sure. Though I don’t think a deep and complex story was necessary, I understand why some audience may have wanted a little more story. Mario and Princess Peach’s relationship never quite clicks in the way it should (there’s only a couple of brief glimpses of the “friends who like each other but are too shy to confess their feelings” aspect that seems like it should have been more prevalent). And some may question why Luigi was chosen to be kidnapped in the very first movie, since it means the Super Mario Bros. don’t have a whole lot of screen time together (in fact, by the end of things, the film seems closer to the “Super Mario and Donkey Kong Movie”).
“The Super Mario Bros. Movie is so faithful to both the Super Mario and Donkey Kong series, that I can (almost) look past that they retconned Cranky Kong to be DK’s father, as opposed to his grandfather. Don’t think we wouldn’t know, Illumination!”
Still, these are things that can be fleshed out and expanded on in the inevitable sequels and spinoffs (a Donkey Kong Country movie next, please!). For now, we should just savor the fact that Super Mario Bros. has finally made a faithful transition to the silver screen. After all, for thirty years Mario fans had to accept Dennis Hopper with weird hair as the cinematic form of Bowser, so the King Koopa’s appearance alone is reason to rejoice.
Last year, I claimed that Sonic the Hedgehog 2 was the best video game movie, and the most pure fun I’ve had in a movie in years. And now I’m feeling the same way all over again for The Super Mario Bros. Movie. There’s room for the next big screen outing for Mario and friends to improve on certain things, but as far as living up to its name as The Super Mario Bros. Movie, the film is most certainly a superstar.
I promise I will get back to reviews and such soon. Life gets rough sometimes. I have a lot of catching up to do for this site, but I plan on doing just that (catching up, that is). And yes, this is the third post celebrating a twentieth anniversary for Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away in one form or another (I wrote about the anniversaries of its original Japanese release, its US release, and now from my own personal first viewing of it). Like I’ve said in the past, it’s my favorite film of all time (and I’ve seen many a movie) and has been my biggest creative influence for twenty years now. In fact, this site and all my writing exits because of the impact Spirited Away had on me. So bear with me.
Of course, I already wrote a piece about my personal history with Spirited Away five years ago (on the fifteenth anniversary of when I first saw it. Math), which I technically wrote elsewhere five years before that… Anyway, you can read that here. So I’ll try not to repeat myself and keep this short, but of course I had to acknowledge the twentieth anniversary of when I saw my favorite film here (and hey, this may help me get the ball rolling on the other things I’ve been meaning to write).
Yes, it was twenty years ago (March 31st, 2003) today that I first saw Spirited Away – that most magical of movies – during its brief theatrical re-release following its Oscar win. The odyssey of Chihiro Ogino remains so captivating, that these twenty years later, I feel like I’ve been spirited away myself.
Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (which was actually the full title of the film when it was released under Disney. The more you know) was a massive success, becoming the most successful Japanese and non-English language film in history for nearly two decades. It continues to influence and inspire other works of art (whether in animation or in entirely different mediums) and has rightly earned its place in cinema history. It even inspired a stage adaptation in Japan just last year, which is seeing a limited theatrical release of its own in the US later in April (there’s a small dose of free advertisement for ya, GKIDS).
All those accolades can’t really measure up to how a work of art can impact individuals on a personal level though. And for me, I don’t think any work of art has impacted me quite so much. Although I’ve always prided myself as an imaginative person, the creative inspiration Spirited Away has given me kicked things into imagination hyperdrive. If I could one day create something that has even the tiniest fraction of impact on someone as Spirited Away has had on me… well, that’s all I could ever hope for.
To put it simply, Spirited Away will spirit me away forever.
Say what you want about Disney’s overall slate of live-action remakes and an over-reliance on Marvel and Star Wars in recent years, but the Walt Disney Company’s animated output has never been better than in has over the last thirteen years. Starting with the Princess and the Frog in 2009, Walt Disney Animation Studios seemed to find their groove again, often rivaling and occasionally surpassing sister animation studio Pixar. The past decade-plus has seen Disney Animation release worldwide phenomenons like Frozen and Encanto, and additional acclaimed hits like Moana, Zootopia and Wreck-It Ralph. Walt Disney Animation Studios’ output has never been more consistent and varied. The animation giant’s sixty-first feature film, Strange World, adds another notch in Disney’s recent versatility in storytelling by hearkening back to pulp fiction adventures of the mid-20th century. Unfortunately, while Strange World continues Disney Animation’s recent winning ways in terms of versatility, it doesn’t match up to the same consistent quality as its recent predecessors. It doesn’t fall so short as to make me think the studio’s hot streak is broken, but Strange World does leave me wondering if said hot streak is winding down.
Strange World takes place in the land of Avalonia, a kind of Jules Verne world of flying machines, adventurers and retro futurism. Avalonia is surrounded by mountain ranges so large that even their most advanced airships can’t get past them. One notable Avalonian adventurer is Jaeger Clade (Dennis Quaid), who is so tough he shaves with a piranha. Jaeger is joined on his adventures by his much less brave son, Searcher (Jake Gyllenhaal). Jaeger has conquered seemingly everything Avalonia has to offer, with the sole exception being the discovery of what lies beyond the mountains of Avalonia, which is to be his life’s accomplishment. During the Clades’ expedition of the mountains, Searcher discovers a new type of plant that gives off energy. With the mountains proving too treacherous to conquer, Searcher and the rest of the crew suggest that the new plant (which they dub ‘Pando’) is world-changing enough of a discovery, and decide to return to Avalonia. Jaeger, hellbent on accomplishing his goal, abandons his son and continues onward through the mountains.
Fast-forward twenty-five years, and Pando has indeed changed Avalonia by becoming the land’s power source. Searcher is seen as Avalonia’s new hero for his discovery (he has a statue right next to his father’s), and he has since become a farmer of Pando along with his wife Meridian (Gabrielle Union) and their son Ethan (Jaboukie Young-White). Jaeger, meanwhile, is long-since presumed dead.
All is not well in Avalonia, however, as Pando crops are dying at an alarming rate. The leader of Avalonia, Callisto Mal (Lucy Liu) – who was with Jaeger and Searcher on their mountain expedition all those years ago – shows up at Searcher’s house to recruit him on a new expedition. Massive roots of Pando have been discovered in a sinkhole to the north, and Callisto believes these roots lead to the source of Pando’s power (the “Heart of Pando”), and that finding the source may help them solve the issue of Pando’s rapid decay. Searcher is reluctant, but having more knowledge of Pando than anyone else, agrees to embark on the adventure. Unbeknownst to him, Ethan stows away on Callisto’s ship (he’s always dreamed of going on adventures like his grandfather), with Meridian following in pursuit of her son
Unfortunately for the crew, the sinkhole not only leads underground, but into an entrance way to a whole other world beneath their own (the titular Strange World) and their ship crashes. This Strange World is a land filled with dangerous creatures and terrain, so Ethan and the rest of the crew will have to survive this Strange World if they hope to save Pando and return to Avalonia. But they’ll have some additional help in the form of Jaeger, who had fallen into the Strange World long ago, and has survived by building a flamethrower and feasting on the smaller creatures of Strange World (I don’t consider Jaeger’s survival a spoiler. It was shown in the trailers, and even if it wasn’t, these kinds of films always have this kind of character to guide our heroes on their adventure).
Again, the film has a very strong throwback vibe, hearkening back to the days of pulp magazines and movie serials, and unabashedly flaunts the expected tropes of such genres. On one hand, such sincerity in genre filmmaking is hard to come by these days, and has a certain innocent appeal to it. But it also means that Strange World doesn’t have a whole lot of surprises in store. Still, even a cliched story can be made special by its execution, and I’d rather have a good predictable movie than a bad movie that features twists just for the heck of it. Though I must admit it’s in that execution that Strange World becomes a bit of a mixed bag.
I think my main issue is that the action of Strange World is serviceable, but unmemorable. Considering the film is aiming for that ‘BANG ZOOM’ action of yesteryear, the action scenes should be one of the film’s highlights. Instead, Strange World simply seems to make due with its action scenes. Disney Animation hasn’t had the strongest history with action films, but they did do it right recently with Raya and the Last Dragon, so it’s a shame that didn’t translate here when it would have been even more beneficial. Strange World could have brought the action of movie serials up to date and, with the benefit of animation, gotten really imaginative with it. Unfortunately, the action scenes here are decently entertaining but overly familiar.
Where the film shines, however, is in its animation. The titular Strange World is a sight to behold, with its sharp reds, magentas and oranges making everything pop. Better still are the creatures that inhabit it, many of which are faceless blobs of varying shapes and sizes (one of which, dubbed Splat, is rightfully the film’s mascot). Others are stone-like brontosauruses that shed pollen from their backs and have legs as thin as pipe cleaners with feet like giant mushroom caps. I’m always a sucker for creature designs, and I get the impression the Disney animators had a lot of fun coming up with the creatures of Strange World. Even the world of Avalonia, the supposed ‘normal’ world of the film, is a joy to look at with its combination of history and fantasy.
The film also deserves credit for injecting a bit of heart into an otherwise by-the-books action-adventure, tying in a generational trauma theme seemingly carried over by Encanto, with the three generations of Clades (Jaeger, Searcher and Ethan) often butting heads with their worldviews. It doesn’t tug at the heart in the same way as other recent Disney animated flicks, but an action-adventure doesn’t really need to. Of course, with the action failing to lift Strange World up to greater heights, perhaps a little more effort trying to reach the same emotional heights of a Frozen or an Encanto may have been the key to making Strange World something special.
Strange World is a solid entry in the Disney Animation Studios canon. But in a time when Disney’s animated storytelling has never been stronger, simply being ‘solid’ does mean that Strange World is in the shadows of the studio’s other recent films. It isn’t that Strange World is bad, just that – much like the characters in the film – it often feels lost and stumbling amidst a land of giants.
Wizard Dojo 