Movie Review – Titanic

(This review will not try to avoid spoilers, so SPOILER WARNING if you haven’t seen Titanic, which is to say, if you do not live on planet Earth)

A successful story, in any storytelling media, is not the same as a good story. “Twilight” is undeniably a successful novel. Three chapters in, I wanted to cut my carotid open. “Transformers” is an undeniably successful film. And it’s also a badly-directed, over-cut, loud and stupid piece of shit.

It had been a while since I’ve watched “Titanic”. Hell, I think I was a teenager last time I did, and I was only seven years old when the movie was released to overwhelming success. I would watch it years later. My young impressions of the film were very positive, but I’m not the person I was years ago (thankfully), so I decided to watch it again to determine whether or not, from my point of view, this film deserved the success it got. And also because I’ve been hearing a lot of people say, “I don’t like Titanic” or using the film as proof that James Cameron’s next project, “Avatar”, will suck.

The verdict is that, once again, James Cameron’s film immersed me completely in its admittedly conventional but incredibly compelling love story, which is vital in creating a connection between the viewer and the death of 1500 people in the real life tragedy of the Titanic. Fuck yes it deserved the success it got. It’s a painstakingly researched, passionately crafted film, with the dedication of Cameron and his crew displayed in every frame. It’s also surprisingly humorous, achieving an amazing emotional balance, something made much more challenging by the sheer scale of the story.

It’s pretty much futile to complain about the unidimensional nature of some of the characters, because that was the point. One thing I love about this film is how relentlessly it satirizes aristocracy, and to achieve this effect, it’s no wonder Rose’s family are absurdly stuck-up and snotty. This leads to several priceless moments throughout the film, and makes the contrast between Jack and them (when they’re all sitting on the same dinner table) even stronger. And let’s not forget: we’re hearing the story from Rose herself, and I doubt her impression of these characters stretched beyond “what a bunch of cunts”.

And even though the premise of the movie’s core romance is conventional (poor boy, rich girl, etc. etc.), Cameron avoids cliches when developing the actual romance itself. Jack and Rose’s chemistry always rings true, because it makes perfect sense. She’s a rebellious aristocrat, feeling trapped in a predictable life — as she herself puts it, “I saw my whole life as if I had already lived it.” And he is a smart and adventurous man, the one person in her life who seems to truly care about her — something established right when they first meet, when Rose is about to commit suicide, and he threatens that if she jumps from the ship, he will “have to” jump in after her.

Always a brilliant storyteller, Cameron avoids melodrama by constantly balancing the dramatic and romantic scenes with humorous moments that hit the mark, even (and especially) during the sinking of the “Titanic”. One of the best of these moments is when Rose needs to break Jack’s handcuffs with an axe, and he asks her to rehearse it on an object first, with disastrous results.

Equally important was holding composer James Horner back — and keep in mind this is an unfair statement, since for all I know Horner held himself back of his own accord. But really, all you need to do is watch “Glory”, directed by Edward Zwick, to see how ridiculously melodramatic the otherwise talented Horner can be. In “Titanic”, however, the music is used to perfection. Whenever a scene needs the famous score, it’s there, never overdone. Whenever the scene needs to work solely on dialogue and sound effects, the music disappears — which is particularly important on scenes with romantic dialogue, where music would have been excessively emotional.

After one hour and a half establishing Jack and Rose’s relationship and other interesting characters like (the real-life) Unsinkable Molly Brown, the sinking of the Titanic begins. This sequence, well over one hour long, has always fascinated me for its magnificence. From the impeccable editing to the amazing special effects, it’s impressive and emotionally wrenching thanks mainly to Jack and Rose, who work as a way of immersing the viewer into the film to the point where you truly feel every death onscreen, and you honestly care about the crew’s survival as well as Jack and Rose’s.

Which is why, proving his competence for the umpteenth time, Cameron never spares the viewer, filming every death in appaling and relentless detail, never turning his camera away even when portraying the death of children (something particularly disturbing when one of the frozen bodies the rescue boat finds is of a woman with a dead baby on her arms).

(Cameron does slip in his portrayal of the real-life William Murdoch, though — on the film, he commits suicide after killing two desperate passengers with a pistol. This is entirely ficticious (although it can’t be proved it didn’t happen — or that it did) and the Murdoch family wasn’t happy about it.)

As the director, James Cameron not only does an amazing technical job (building an almost full-size replica of the Titanic definitely paid off onscreen), he invests heavily in the story he’s telling, especially in some beautifully nostalgic shots when a camera travels through the sunken wreck of the Titanic and dissolves, without interrupting the camera movement, back to 1912, showing the same location brightly lit and full of passengers. Cameron saves the best of these shots to the very last scene, which, without a single word being said, portrays Rose’s life after the Titanic in a continuous, fluid and perfect camera movement. Cameron is aided by the convincing recreation of the time period and by the amazing cinematography, which is especially impressive when the Titanic’s lights switch off as it sinks, and the lighting manages to convey the darkness without becoming unclear or losing its aesthetic beauty.

Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet have exceptional chemistry, also being utterly convincing in their respective roles — there is a moment when Winslet’s character sees a rich little girl, sitting near her, being taught etiquette by her mother. Winslet manages to make it clear that she’s seeing herself in that little girl only with a terrified, but subtle look in her eyes. And Leonardo DiCaprio, in an early display of his now proven talent, refuses to rely on his then-boyish looks, using his charisma and impeccable comic timing to turn Jack into an excellent character. I particularly like the look on his face when Rose takes her clothes off in front of him, and the way he shakes, nervously, after sex — a brilliant and subtle touch. The rest of the cast, from the captivating Kathy Bates (as Unsinkable Molly), to the heartfelt Gloria Stuart (as the older Rose) and the arrogant Billy Zane (as Caledon Hockley) are, as a whole, convincing and competent.

In fact, Jack seems to be based on none other than his creator, James Cameron himself — it’s no wonder that all the drawings in Jack’s book were actually drawn by Cameron, an exceptionally talented artist, and that on the scene Jack draws Rose, it’s Cameron’s hands drawing her, not DiCaprio’s — not to mention Jack has the same adventurous spirit Cameron had when younger, and still has to this day (just try telling Cameron he can’t do something — everyone said “Titanic” would be a disaster, prior to its release).

So honestly? “Titanic” is a classic. I’m happy to see that, as I near my twenty-somethings, this movie hasn’t lost its heart, at least for me. In fact, after more than a year reviewing movies (which made me more observant and nitpicky), it’s even more satisfying that I didn’t really find anything significant to dislike in “Titanic” — it simply works. It more than succeeds in its emotional and dramatic goals.

Let me put it this way: in most disaster movies I see, I care more about the main characters (or, when watching a Roland Emmerich movie, no-one at all) than everyone else. I rarely think of the thousands who died in the background, only about the main group that mostly makes it to safety.

And the reason I truly love “Titanic” is that it makes me feel the weight of the catastrophe as a whole, providing a rich and satisfying cinematic experience.

So yeah, since his career truly started (with “The Terminator”, since his actual first film was “Piranhas 2″), James Cameron, always a dedicated innovator and brilliant storyteller, hasn’t yet disappointed me.

Harmonious Family

Slip

Movie Review – 2012

(not too concerned with spoilers in this review, I must warn)

In a certain moment of “2012″, in the Himalayas, a surprisingly advanced onboard computer claims they are in a collision course with something that is 8.840 km high. To which a character actually asks “What could be 8.840km high?”. Because there are so many 9 km high things to choose from, and in the Himalayas. Then another character says what it is ominously (I will not “reveal” it because I don’t want to insult your intelligence). This is how Roland Emmerich builds suspense. And this is why I am absolutely convinced “2012″ is a comedy that, if directed by Emmerich with the help of Jerry Zucker, would have achieved its full comedic potential. It’s a shame that in the moment the president played by Danny Glover adresses the nation, he does not start screaming, “We are all gonna DIIIIIEEEEEE!”, even though what he says is hilarious in a less hysterical way. Paraphrasing slightly because I can’t remember the exact words: “I believe what I will say next is true for every religion: the Lord is my shepherd…“

“2012″ is the result of an entire career’s worth of warming up with films like “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow”. This is the film Roland Emmerich always wanted to make, and I hope his apparent grudge against planet Earth has now ended, otherwise Emmerich’s next film will be about the destruction of the Milky Way (and consequently Earth, again) because of a collision with Andromeda, happening “much earlier than we thought it would!”, a specialist possibly played by Dennis Quaid would say.

The plot of “2012″ is, well… it’s 2012. According to the film (and worryingly, millions of real people who actually believe this), the Mayan calendar doesn’t stop because the Mayans just kinda got bored with it or something, but because the world will end then. The film depicts that the planets will align causing the sun to emit too many neutrinos (or vice-versa, don’t ask me to understand physics the way Emmerich does), but the point is that the center of the Earth rises in temperature dramatically, causing the tectonic plates to shift position, which causes earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanos, pretty much everything short of zombies and dinosaurs, which finally causes a broken family to come together again, and a boy who calls his father by his name to start calling him “dad” once again because that kind of emotional arc is so original.

“2012″ doesn’t take itself seriously. It plays like a drama but has several moments that reveal its true farcical nature, like the change of magnetic poles that results in the new South Pole being located “somewhere in Wisconsin”. Not to mention how blatantly the film uses convenient character traits to make its unbelievably stupid disaster scenes seem even mildly believable, like the protagonist being a “writer and a limousine driver” and the boyfriend of his ex-wife being a “plastic surgeon and a plane pilot”. Sure, the latter constantly says he only took a few plane lessons, but mate, if you can take a plane off the ground as that very ground breaks open beneath you, then dodge falling buildings, debris and fireballs — you’re a fucking pilot. Shut the fuck up.

Another sign of the film’s sense of humor are the characters that clearly represent real people, like the rich blonde girl with a dog that reminded me of Paris Hilton. And it’s especially hilarious how the film kills all of its supporting cast in increasingly over-the-top ways, and how blatantly the film provides catharsis with the gratuitous death of particularly unlikeable characters.

Therefore, complaining about cliches, inconsistences and coincidences in a movie like this is pretty much missing the point: it’s just plain fun. Unlike Sam Raimi in “Drag Me To Hell”, which couldn’t decide between comedy and horror, Roland Emmerich opts for comedy disguised as drama and shares the fun with us, not only indulging himself but the audience with his amazing ability to find the best possible way of filming something’s destruction. And Emmerich adds to the hilarity by always destroying a famous thing with another famous thing. I gasped from laughter when a character sees a large object riding a tsunami towards them and says, “Sir, that’s the Air Force One.”

Even better, Emmerich spares no-one. After extracting humor from painfully obvious symbolism (the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling being cracked apart right where the hands of Man and God almost touch), he proceeds to destroy the Vatican right when the Pope is giving a speech. Leaders of other religions and countries suffer the same fate.

And this is good, because a movie trying to take the Mayan calendar bullshit seriously would just be sad to see. Emmerich satirizes it constantly with Woody Harrelson’s character, a crazy radio broadcaster who turns out to be right despite being clearly insane, in an irony so improbable I just had to laugh. Speaking of the talented Harrelson, he’s fortunately not the only one to know he’s in a comedy, since the also talented John Cusack doesn’t hesitate to be histrionic and shouty during action scenes. The rest of the cast seems to take the movie more seriously though, but this ends up being even funnier.

So, is “2012″ good? Well, if I’m right and Emmerich’s intention was to make a comedy about the world’s destruction in 2012 and disguise it as a drama, then yes, it’s excellent and delivers. And if his intention was to deliver a serious, emotional drama, then “2012″ is a wonderful mistake. Either way, it’s an entirely forgettable, but very fun time. And really, I can’t actually believe this film is serious: on one of the final scenes, with inspiring “everything worked out okay” music, people leave their arks (yes, there are arks) to be met by the wonderful sight of… a destroyed world covered in water. But look at that beautiful sunset!

But now that he’s had his fun, Roland Emmerich should start a new part of his career where he dedicates himself to more serious films, because maybe if he actually tries, he can make a movie that’s not only fun but also memorable.

Which, okay, sounds less likely than the world ending in 2012, but still.

Movie Review – A Christmas Carol

“A Christmas Carol” is the first 3D movie I’ve actually watched in 3D, since it took a long while for Rio de Janeiro to implement the technology (and considering how gimmicky and overused 3D currently is, I can’t say I was looking forward to it). As you can probably guess, I’m not a fan of 3D. I find it to be the exact opposite of what it should be — it’s unnimersive.

The very composition of a shot is hurt by any foreground object calling too much attention to itself, and if a character points something at the camera, like a finger or a gun, instead of noticing the action you notice the way it seems to be jumping out of the screen — while what’s relevant is the action. Sure, this can be a matter of getting used to it, but I fail to see the point. I do not find it visually dazzling, I do not see many narrative opportunities for 3D and it doesn’t sit well with modern cinematic language, requiring a complete re-thinking on how to film — and why? Because people want to see more depth in the screen? Am I the only one who was perfectly happy with a 2D screen?

Once again, though, I must admit Robert Zemeckis is not the ideal director to introduce me to the world of 3D. Despite his genius, he is probably the guy who has the wrongest idea of how to use it. Before I really form my opinion on this technique/gimmick, I’ll have to wait for films like “Avatar”. After all, when a man of James Cameron’s brilliance decides to use 3D, there must be a good reason. And also, I’m told some films like “Coraline” have used 3D cleverly (the film has two worlds, and one of them was depicted in 3D, which is a simple, but rare narrative use for it — but the movie theatre I saw it in wasn’t equipped with the technology, and if I remember correctly, no theatre nearby was).

So, “A Christmas Carol”. I mentioned Zemeckis has the wrongest idea of how to use 3D. The reason for this is that, when given 3D, Zemeckis acts like a hyperactive child given a toy. He always was an inventive cameraman, but while this was motivated by narrative needs, in the latter stage of his career Zemeckis just started showing off. I loved “Beowulf” mostly due to the script by Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary, because Zemeckis’ direction, albeit full of inspired moments, also had its share of exaggerated camera angles, like the hideous moment a guard points a spear at us, and Zemeckis ridiculously pushes the depth of field back to make the spear jump out of the screen, then changing it abruptly to pan the camera to Beowulf’s face in that which must be one of the worst camera movements in Zemeckis’ career.

I had hoped he’d be more restrained in “A Christmas Carol”. Which just proves why I should give up trying to be an optimist.

He always finds some way to distract the viewer from whatever’s going on, like slowly moving his camera around a talking character until a lit candle appears on the foreground — a composition that not only calls attention to itself (especially in 3D), but makes no sense, because the character in the background is usually the bitter Ebenezer Scrooge — and showing him next to a warm candle kind of goes against the nature of the character as far as symbolism goes (unless the candle puts itself out eventually, but I cannot remember if it does — yeah, this movie left a strong impression on me, no doubt).

But that’s mild next to the way Zemeckis introduces the victorian London where the story happens, making his camera fly past chimneys and smoke at insane speeds, and never missing the chance to make something pointy jump out of the screen, like the only reason we put on those ridiculous goggles is for the illusion of having our face impaled.

Sadly, as a storyteller, Zemeckis doesn’t show much common sense either. I was, after all, under the impression this is a movie for children. And while I think children can be shown much more than they’re usually allowed to see, when the first image in your story is a rotting, pale corpse inside a coffin with a coin in each eye (coins which Scrooge promptly pockets to pay himself back from another debt), you kinda kickstart the movie on the wrong tone right away.

And yet, throughout the film, Zemeckis goes for a constant slapstick humor that makes absolutely no sense, considering Scrooge’s age. He’s portrayed as the most athletic old man ever, capable of falling on a set of stairs and just getting up, no harm done. Even worse is the moment a spirit dislocates his own jaw, making it hang from his face, and then uses his hand to move the jaw up and down as he speaks.

And wait until you see a fat guy being reduced to a skeleton while he laughs maniacally. This was the point where a kid started crying in the movie theatre, if memory serves. I thought I heard it sob “THIS IS — THE WORST — FILM I’VE — EVER — SEEN”, but probably just my imagination.

“A Christmas Carol” has a brief moment of inspiration, when Scrooge visits his old home from when he was a child, but that’s the only moment the film hits the right emotional note, getting everything else wrong. It’s particularly pathetic the way Scrooge becomes Mr. Nice after his experiences, laughing at everything and being so kind it was sickening. Apparently, the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future succeeded in turning the worst man in London into the stupidest man in London.

Visually, the film is a failure thanks to bad cinematography that forgot to take the 3D glasses into account. As a result, the entire film is so dark I felt tempted to try and watch it without the glasses, and man do I look forward to the day that choice will be actually possible. The animation achieved through performance capture is decent, but the moments the film relies on “handmade” animation (a ridiculously overdone dance sequence, for example) can be painfully obvious and mediocre. However, the art design is at least competent, from the depiction of London to the visual of the characters.

I can’t really comment about the performances because the session I went to was dubbed in Portuguese, despite the ticket stating very, very clearly it was only subtitled. But the film left me too bored to actually complain about it to the theatre staff, plus I was with my sister, who urged me not to, afraid it would result in confusion (which I doubt, I’m not the shouty kind, but I didn’t want to waste her time).

“A Christmas Carol” is an overdirected mess that never decides on a tone. Someone take the 3D from Robert Zemeckis before he remakes “Back To The Future” in depth-o-vision.

Comic Reviews On (Possibly Permanent) Hiatus

Okay.

Reviewing a movie or a game or a novel (so I don’t do the latter, but still) has the advantage of, well, you’re reviewing ONE thing. Reviewing a number of books a week is, frankly, murder. Three thousand words per post, it’s incredibly hard to keep it polished and readable, avoid it falling into a reviewing formula or just sheer repetition. While I stand by my opinions (and I insist to all of you who complain about “that’s not an impartial review!”, reviews are fucking opinions of whoever wrote them because nobody owns the goddamn truth you absolute moron. Just my opinion, though.) I’ve wrote a number of bad reviews, not as in “negative”, as in “badly-fucking-written”, where I failed to expose my thoughts well. In order to avoid doing that, I need free time I honestly do not have at the moment.

I remember the “Back To Brooklyn #3″ review, which I thought to be mediocre (both the book and the review) and it felt, to me, like most of the mistakes had more to do with Jimmy Palmiotti than Garth Ennis, the co-writers. And while I can’t deny I did feel that way, I failed to recognize, in the review, that I was ASSUMING this, that I didn’t bloody know it. Jimmy Palmiotti took offense, very understandably, something we later sorted out (and he was very sweet). This was quite ironic because “Back To Brooklyn #5″, I felt was equally problematic, but this time — and this is, as you must know, VERY rare for me — because of Garth Ennis, not Jimmy Palmiotti. I should explain that better in another, future post about the subject.

It’s vital, if you’re going to expose your opinion, that you expose it well. I believe, with a little effort and more training, I can do that (and I’m much better at reviewing than I used to be, which doesn’t actually mean much but it’s a personal victory). But I don’t have the free time, and I am not going to rush my reviews — it’s unfair to the writers and artists of whatever I’m reviewing. I noticed a pattern in my weekly posts — when I’m reviewing the first book of the week, I do relatively fine. When I reach the last, I’m out of patience.

Sorry, this will not do.

All the other reviews will remain, and I should publish some weekly capsule reviews of whatever I’m reading (I SHOULD — it’s no longer a regular feature, dunno if it will be again).

Understand: I review not as a job, but as a way of dissecating what I like and learning to write MYSELF (also, pointing what I like to people is always nice). It’s a very healthy exercise for an aspiring writer.

Busy as I am right now, it’s an exercise I can’t afford.

Hah, like anyone’s going to actually miss this. But anyway!

The stuff I’m busy with is mainly for this blog. So, three people who read this, stay tuned.

Please.

PITCH BLACK Special Edition – Advanced Society

This three-page-long edition is based on a real story that happened in Brazil. As such, it’s available in English and Portuguese. / Esta edição de três páginas é baseada em uma história real que aconteceu no Brasil. Assim sendo, está disponível em inglês e português.

For English-speaking readers:

PAGE 1

PAGE 2

PAGE 3

The sources and inspirations: write-up on The Guardian and two excellent blog posts by Brazilian film critic Pablo Villaça (here and here, in the correct order and in portuguese).

Para leitores que falam português:

PÁGINA 1

PÁGINA 2

PÁGINA 3

Fontes e inspirações: matéria no Estadão e dois excelentes posts do crítico de cinema brasileiro Pablo Villaça (aqui e aqui, na ordem certa).

The Wonders Of Modern Filmmaking

Movie Review – Up

I think I’m not alone in thinking of Pixar as the most reliable storyteller in movies today. At least when it comes to companies, not individual writers — and even trying to think of one, I still can’t think of a single writer who has delivered, since the beginning of his fairly extensive career, a body of work as consistent and exceptional as Pixar has as a company. They don’t seem to have a “black sheep” within them.

“Up” stays true to this amazing quality standard, even though it is, by no means, better than “Wall-E”, which was far more creative and thematically ambitious. But really: blaming a movie for not being better than “Wall-E” is kind of really fucking unreasonable. “Up” has a heart of its own and deals with another theme many companies would be afraid of tackling on a film for all ages: the dream everyone has for their lives. Their final ambition, their lifelong goal.

Carl Fredricksen is an old man who had a very happy marriage for all his life, until the recent death of his beloved Ellie. Since then, Carl has grown disinterested in society and life in general, which isn’t helped by the fact everything around his house is being rebuilt by a construction company — which would like his house to disappear as well. Refusing to let himself live the rest of his years in nostalgic self-pity, Carl decides to pursue his and Ellie’s never-fulfilled dream of having a house on Paradise Falls, and seeing no easy way to do this conventionally, he tethers thousands of ballons to his house to lift it off the ground and go to South America, where the place is located. Only an unwanted guest, an hyperactive child called Russell, comes along by accident, and once in Paradise Falls, Carl’s dream clashes with another man’s: adventurer Charles Muntz, whom Carl has been a fan of since childhood.

Obviously, “Up” is not a movie concerned about realism, and requires some suspension of disbelief at times — we never see Carl or Russell eating or drinking, the way Russell ends up in Carl’s flying house isn’t very believable and it’s preposterous, to say the least, that Carl and Russell manage to reach South America after a single day of voyage (this would have been more believable if the trip happened with no problems, but they run into a storm, which makes it all harder to stomach). Also, it’s inconsistent to show Carl using a lift to descend his staircase, but then show him performing moves that require incredible agility. Even for a movie about a guy flying his house with the help of balloons, this kind of stretches the limits of my personal suspension of disbelief.

However, it’s the heart of the movie that makes it memorable. The relationship between Carl and Ellie is illustrated by a quick sequence in the beginning of the film that shows them as kids. This sequence not only portrays Ellie as adorably excited, it also portrays Carl as adorably quiet, and their chemistry managed to touch me in less than five minutes. This sequence also showcases Pixar’s typical technical proeficiency — like the subtle way they find to show us that Carl is blushing when Ellie is touching his hand. They don’t even need a close-up to show it, they just use lighting and movement.

But it’s the next sequence that really works as the film’s base: the montage that shows Ellie and Carl’s married life. There is no dialogue at all, only Michael Giacchino’s (wonderful) music and the characters’ movements and facial expressions. It not only portrays the beautiful relationship between them with, I dare say, perfection, it also develops Carl’s character to the point where his bitterness after she dies is not only entirely believable, but entirely forgiveable (and the script never overdoes Carl’s bitterness to “Gran Torino” levels. Fortunately).

Also, I think it’s the first time Pixar uses blood in a blatant way (maybe in any way), when Carl accidentally hits a man with his cane way too strongly, causing his forehead to bleed — a moment that makes clear that “Up” is a film that won’t hold back in its depiction of grief and that won’t patronise kids to the point where a liquid that runs in everyone’s veins can’t be shown briefly. Even kids expect a blow like that to hurt, and only showing the man scratching his intact forehead would be like the Coyote being merely covered in ash after being blown up by tons of TNT — it works for the cartoon, but comedy wasn’t the point of this particular scene. This is also not the only depiction of violence in the film.

“Up” deserves a lot of credit for exploring its theme to the fullest. The film’s “villain”, adventurer Charles Muntz (even older than Carl), is not portrayed as an unidimensional monster, only becoming a threat when he feels his lifelong dream is in danger. In fact, he’s painted as an once reasonable person who, in his loneliness, grew a tendency for madness when dealing with things he’s obsessive about. This makes him into a much more intriguing antagonist, and it’s particularly interesting how he avoids killing Carl even when he has the chance to do so, only resorting to this when absolutely convinced Carl’s death is the only way for Charles to achieve his own dream.

You might ask, then, how Carl can be the “hero”. After all, what makes Charles’ dream less worthy of fulfillment? In this case, Charles is a hunter, and he’s after a certain bird for years and didn’t hesitate in dealing harshly with whoever got in his way (i.e. killing them). This bird also has offspring and isn’t a threat to anyone, and Charles only wants him as a trophy and a way to clear up his name (ruined in his early years, when one of his trophies was revealed to be a fraud).

Regardless, “Up” avoids the black-and-white morality most “all ages” films go for, showing a conflict between two men after their dreams, rather than a “hero” and a “villain”. And the resolution of this conflict is very brave in not providing narrative satisfaction — something that enriches the film tremendously. Check the last paragraph for a better explanation, but beware SPOILERS.

“Up” is less successful with a member of its supporting cast. While Carl is a fascinating protagonist, Russell only works as an obvious and often annoying counterpoint to Carl’s age. He has a good number of funny moments, but he’s the stereotypical child sidekick. I felt kind of the same way, to a larger degree, about Short Round on “Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom”, although most people felt a bit stronger about him: more spefically they wanted to see him stomped on by an elephant. I didn’t feel that way, although I can understand the feeling. Dunno, call me patient.

The rest of the supporting cast, however, brings the usual Pixar charisma to the film. The talking dogs are a touch of genius not because they talk, but HOW they talk — like dogs. To the point where they interrupt conversations and yell “SQUIRREL!”, going silent and still for a moment, before resuming exactly where they left off. Also, the portrayal of the dog’s inconditional love for its owner is downright brilliant, as evidenced by Dug’s immediate affection for Carl and Russell. Not to mention the dog’s weakness — an urge to go fetch whatever you throw — is explored to hilarious effect.

Kevin, the giant bird, is equally funny — portrayed as wild and yet not a threat to anyone that doesn’t endanger him. Carl’s relationship with the bird (basically summarized by “Shoo! Get out of here! Off! Go!”) and Russell’s (“Can he stay? Can he stay?”) is a bit cliched, but so well-executed I didn’t care.

The voice acting is nothing short of magnificent. Elie Docter (daughter of co-director Pete Docter) gives the Young Ellie a contagious energy, Edward Asner gives Carl a bitter yet good-hearted voice, Christopher Plummer shows Charles’ change of attitude with subtlety and efficiency, co-director Bob Peterson does a spectacular job as the dogs Dug and Alpha, giving them entirely different and hilarious personalities, and Jordan Nagai is the reason Russell is an often funny character — his childish voice full of wonder makes him nearly impossible to hate. I especially love the way he says “I’m a friend to aaaaall animals”.

In terms of visuals, “Up” is, of course, ingenious. The animation is superb, full of subtleties and impressive facial expressions. The character design is incredible, with special mention to Muntz’s similarity to Kirk Douglas. Pixar once again makes it look easy (when it’s anything but). Also, directors Bob Peterson and Pete Docter go for mostly static but beautifully composed camera angles, but when an action scene is called for, they do not hesitate to impress, giving those sequences a lot of visual energy (there’s a particularly exciting — and very funny — moment when Carl is riding the bird with Russell hanging from a rope and swinging from one side to the other. Peterson and Docter pull the camera back to show the scene on its whole, and the amount of confusion happening is so much it made me laugh while not forgetting the characters are in danger).

Michael Giacchino, who has been proving himself one of the best composers in the business with his consistently brilliant work in “The Incredibles”, “Speed Racer”, “Star Trek” and others, does his typically excellent job of composing the music with an emphasis on helping tell the story as effectively as possible — and as the sequence showing Ellie and Carl’s marriage proves, he succeeds. The sound design also deserves applause for its efficiency and attention to detail — it’s great how they make the wires tethering the balloons emit musical notes, like a guitar, to show how stretched they are when Carl passes his fingers on them.

But when it comes to some of the visual design, “Up” might look too bland for Pixar. Paradise Falls can be accurately summed up as rock formations and jungles, and the heart of the place itself is nothing but a lonely waterfall — however, I’ve come to realize while writing this review, this is actually perfect — since it shows how personal Carl’s dream is and also, how superficial. “Paradise Falls” looks much more charming and appealing to him than it should to the audience, and if it actually made our jaws drop, Carl’s idea of trying to ease his grief by going there wouldn’t sound so doomed to fail, and the moment when he finally does get there and realizes nothing has changed wouldn’t seem as believable.

And this leads to that which is the most memorable scene in “Up”, when Carl realizes Ellie’s legacy in an absolutely beautiful moment that sounds entirely believable. You might think it’s far-fetched that he would only notice it at that point in his life, but it’s perfectly coherent with Carl’s character — after Ellie’s death, he had no wish of looking for it, because it reminded him of her in a painful way because she wasn’t alive to fulfill their lifelong dream. This might sound vague, and it does, if you haven’t watched the film, but I want to keep spoilers to a minimum. I think you’ll see what I mean when you watch the film, which, I hope it’s clear by now, you should.

Weakened only by a few and aforementioned problems (Carl’s preposterous agility, etc.), “Up” is an emotionally powerful and thematically brave film about dreams that does not try to soften its message, and even contains a metaphor of how our dreams can come at the expense of other people’s. It’s funny and it has a heart, and it was clearly crafted with passion like all Pixar films. The company has reached a point where, even if their future output for some unfathomable reason becomes shit, the legacy they’ve already left behind has reached the status of undeniable.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR FUCK’S SAKE SPOILERS FROM HERE ON:

 

 

 

 

 

 

The death of Charles Muntz doesn’t feel as narratively satisfactory as similar deaths in other Disney films — much to the contrary, it feels like a necessary evil and a shame. As twisted as his dream was, he only wanted to fulfill it and be loved, and Carl’s dream came true at the expense of Charles’ dream and also his life, even though the “villain’s” attitude is to blame for this. And this feeling of “it didn’t have to be this way”, as I said, only enriches the film.

“Break”

(larger version)

My new flash fiction is up on Weaponizer. A bit of an exercise in writing violence and grittiness, far from the humorous tone of my first flash fic for Weaponizer, “Here We Go Again” (clever, huh? Linked both stories on the same post, hahaha, I’m a self-promoting cunt).

Hope you enjoy “Break”.