Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Cold Mountain Displays Strength of Spirit in the Face of Cold-Heartedness

Although I had a great desire to see Cold Mountain when it arrived in theaters at the tail end of last year, I suspected that this was a film I would be better off seeing in the comfort of a living room with an eye-shielding pillow handy. I expected the Civil War epic to contain several long and bloody battle scenes that might even require me to leave the room. So I was pleased to discover when I watched it last week that epic battles weren’t something I would have to worry about. My pillow did not lie idle, however; the violence in this movie remains, but it comes out in staccatos, displaying the enmity to be found among those who were supposed to be on the same side of the conflict.

Nicole Kidman stars as Ada Monroe, the pampered daughter of a minister (Donald Sutherland) who moves from socialite Charleston to the backwoods Cold Mountain in hopes that the fresh air will do his ailing heart some good. They settle in comfortably for a brief time before the beginning of the war, and during this interval Ada makes the acquaintance of Inman (Jude Law), a gentle man of quiet intensity. Though they hardly know one another at the time of their separation, the thought of reuniting sustains them both through the myriad trials that follow.

When Ada’s father succumbs to a heart attack, she is left alone with a lush estate but no money or skills to sustain it. She is reminiscent of Shannon, her character in Far and Away, in her ineptitude when it comes to dealing with everyday tasks, but she is kinder and less fiery than Shannon was at the beginning of the film. She doesn’t want to be spoiled, she’s just never had the opportunity to learn anything that would come in handy during such a trying time. Her kindly neighbor Sally (Kathy Baker) realizes this and sends help in the form of Ruby (Renee Zellweger), a tough-talking tomboy with enough spirit to rouse Ada out of her debilitating depression. Tending the farm turns out to be the least of their worries, however, as vigilante Teague (Ray Winstone) and his cronies terrorize the townspeople in their search for deserters and their helpers.

Meanwhile, after receiving an injury in battle, Inman decides to head back to Cold Mountain, moving from one life-threatening situation to another. He takes up with a series of characters upon whom war has also taken a great toll: Reverend Veasey (Philip Seymour Hoffman), an adulterous pastor with far less integrity than Inman; Maddy (Eileen Atkins), an elderly woman who takes Inman in after discovering him badly hurt; and Sara (Natalie Portman), a fierce and lovely young widow who gives Inman shelter for the night and is rewarded with his aid when Yankees strike her home.

The film follows the two main characters’ parallel storylines. The first we hear of Ada is in a letter Inman receives from her just before battle. Her story backtracks to the moment of her arrival in Cold Mountain, and it takes a while to catch up. Once it does, though, she faces as much danger in the comfort of her own home as Inman does on the run. This film does show the cruelty of war, but on a more personal level. It shows ordinary people trying desperately to survive – men trying to find their way home in spite of the brutally enforced mandates against desertion, women trying to fill the men’s shoes in their absence as food grows scarce and villainy abounds. Time and again, cold-hearted individuals go out of their way to destroy the lives of the decent folks in the film, and more often than not the perpetrators are Confederates just like the victims. The violence in the movie is no less traumatic for its brevity, and perhaps even more shocking.

Kidman again shows her acting chops in this film and demonstrates that she works especially well in period pieces. Law, meanwhile, manages to pull off an incredibly powerful performance with hardly any words at all. His goodness and strength shine through his grimy surroundings, and when he does open his mouth to speak, the words are always worthwhile. I confess that I usually can’t stand Zellweger, but her spunky character is probably the most enjoyable in the film and certainly provides a great deal of needed levity. Baker brings a blend of motherly warmth and sorrow to her portrayal of Sally; Sutherland, in his brief time on the screen, is a benevolent presence bringing great insight into the character of Ada. Other notables include Charlie Hunnam as Bosie, the villainous young man who gleefully hunts down deserters and those sympathetic to them, and Brendan Gleeson as Stobrad Thewes, Ruby’s vagabond fiddle-playing father.

Speaking of fiddles, the film’s soundtrack is lovely, featuring a great deal of folk music and many Celtic-tinged melodies reflecting the beauty of the land and the sorrow of the situation. Cold Mountain is hardly an uplifting movie. In fact, I would call it quite depressing. But it does show the strength of the human spirit in the darkest of times, and the dedication of the cast makes it a film worth investing nearly three hours in.

Monday, July 26, 2004

Anakin and Amidala Are No Han and Leia

While I found some aspects of Phantom Menace to be rather disappointing, I still looked forward to the arrival of the second installment of the Star Wars prequel in theaters. The stirrings of foreboding occurred when I heard that the title would be Attack of the Clones - very B-movie-ish, if you ask me. As it turned out, the flaws I perceived in Phantom Menace melted away in comparison with its sequel. My brother tells me my feeble mind is incapable of grasping the intricacies of a plot he claims is easy to follow. Whatever the case may be, I had a hard time figuring out what was going on when I watched Attack of the Clones.

The bulk of the film concerns two separate plotlines. In one, Obi-Wan (Ewan McGregor) endeavors to discover the source of a poison dart used to kill now-Senator Amidala’s (Natalie Portman) would-be assassin. In the process, he learns of the existence of a clone army built for the use of the Republic, while the audience gets a bit of background on the mysterious Boba Fett. Meanwhile, Anakin (Hayden Christiansen) is left behind to protect Amidala, on whom he has had a crush since their meeting during the first film. Though Anakin is now nearly 20, Amidala still thinks of him as the child she last saw ten years earlier, while he yearns to be so much more. When she tells him, “Ani, you’ll always be that little boy I knew on Tattooine,” it’s the last thing he wants to hear. Tied in with this is Chancellor Palpatine’s (Ian McDiarmid) gradual corruption and the threat of Count Dooku (Christopher Lee), a former Jedi and war-monger. Several other threads run throughout the movie, and when I finished watching the movie for the first time I wasn’t very clear on all that had happened. To be precise, my feelings could best be summed up by the words of C-3PO in one of the film’s few funny moments: “I’m so confused.”

McGregor continues to do a solid but ultimately rather boring job as Obi-Wan. Not his fault, they just don’t give him that much to work with. He does have a few good moments with Anakin, including a pretty impressive speeder chase through the multi-level streets of a Las Vegas-style city in Coruscant. Maybe part of the trouble is that these people are a part of an established order and they always seem to know what they’re doing. There’s not the high level of uncertainty and trial and error that Luke, Leia and Han had.

But as in Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan is still one of the strongest characters in the film. Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson) gets more screen time in here, which he deserves, while Jar Jar (Ahmed Best) gets less, much to the satisfaction of his legions of anti-fans. There’s far too little of the droids, but they shine in their on-screen moments, as does Yoda (Frank Oz), who is afforded the chance to display some humor and get into a memorable light saber duel.

It should have been interesting to see the origins of Boba Fett (Daniel Logan), but the film failed to make me care. Or perhaps I was just too distracted by what was going on with Anakin to be properly moved by that storyline, which does build to a traumatic finish. Palpatine seems increasingly sinister and Dooku is appropriately intimidating, but neither made a huge impression on me. In fact, what I recall most about Attack of the Clones has nothing to do with the clones at all, but rather concerns the budding romance between Amidala and Anakin. I find it odd that Darth Vader is probably the most formidable, memorable character in the original Star Wars trilogy, and yet in the prequel he always seems to be the weakest link. I’m beginning to wonder whether an actor can be faulted for failing to impress when forced to deliver such uninspiring lines. From where I’m standing, though, it looks like Jake Lloyd was a lousy kiddie Anakin and Christiansen is a lousy post-adolescent Anakin.

He glowers his way through the movie, his dialogue stilted throughout. “Now that I’m with you again,” Anakin tells Amidala, “I’m in agony.” So am I, listening to him talk. What’s worse, Amidala falls for him. She spends the first third of the movie remembering him fondly as the boy who helped her out of a jam, the middle being creeped out by his lewd and very un-Jedi-like glances, and the end declaring her undying love for him. Where did that come from? Their on-screen chemistry is next to nil, and their romantic arc is barely believable. It certainly pales in comparison to the gradual development of Han and Leia’s relationship, complete with impassioned insults and several life-threatening situations. It’s bad enough for Anakin to be utterly infatuated with her, but there’s no reasonable explanation for her declaration, “I truly, deeply love you.” They haven’t spent enough time together for that, and most of that time sweet little Ani’s been acting like a creep.

Attack of the Clones is visually impressive, but there are far fewer beautiful scenes and absurd creatures in this film. Those that do appear stand out, particularly Dex, a greasy but cuddly cafe owner with whom Obi-Wan shares a companionable scene. There’s also less humor. Second installments in trilogies tend to be very dark and depressing, and aside from that infamous carbonite scene, Attack of the Clones is much more of a downer than Empire Strikes Back. Actually, that’s not strictly true, since we care more about the characters in Empire; Attack is more “blah” than distressing. Still, it sets a necessary stage for the third film, which hopefully will be the best of the three, though it promises a great deal of death and disorder. My favorite moments in Attack all involved Yoda, C-3PO and R2-D2, so Chewbacca’s presence in Revenge of the Sith is a good sign. Let’s just hope they get Anakin some better writers…

Dialogue Menaces a Masterful Prequel

For many years, I devoutly avoided Star Wars due to the traumatizing effects of seeing Han Solo frozen in carbonite at too tender an age. Thankfully, by high school I was well over my discomfort with the trilogy, so I could appreciate the excitement of several of my classmates over the films’ re-release in the theaters. When I learned that the rumors of a prequel trilogy would begin to come to fruition just weeks before my high school graduation, I was aware this was a major cinematic event. At some point, during the massive fast-food tie-in campaign, flurry of merchandise and early reports that the film would be sold out for several weeks, I began to wonder if it might be a bit too major. I didn’t intend to go anywhere near a theater during the first couple weeks of Phantom Menace’s run, fearing for my life. So when Dad came home from work two hours before the first showing announcing there were still tickets available for the first night, I couldn’t believe it. We found ourselves in the midst of a super-charged crowd of people, many of whom were in costume, during the second showing of the film. I find it ironic that I got in on the first-day Phantom Menace geekfest but none of the Lord of the Rings equivalents, but it was a rather exhilarating experience.

Was the movie worthy of all the hype and the nearly two decades of waiting? Well… Not quite. Some of the magic of the first trilogy was just missing. The special effects were absolutely amazing but overwhelmed the movie. None of the characters were as fully realized or easy to care about as those in the original trilogy, and I particularly missed Han Solo, who had no corresponding character in Phantom Menace. Of the new characters, Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) is the one who impressed me most. Recalling Obi-Wan in A New Hope, he is kind and wise and exudes a calm Jedi aura. I was already a fan of Neeson before this film, and his performance here was one of the highlights of the movie. He seems a completely natural part of Lucas’ universe, and it’s a shame he could only be a part of one film. (Or could he? If Obi-Wan could come back as a ghost in two movies, why not Qui-Gon??) At any rate, he's a wonderful new character, and his lengthy light saber battle with Darth Maul is exciting and tragic. Also impressive is Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson), though we don’t see him much in this film. He also comes across as a natural Jedi. Yoda (Frank Oz), C-3PO (Anthony Edwards) and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) all reappear and are predictably delightful, though even Yoda has been infected with the epidemic of over-seriousness.

Natalie Portman brings grace and warmth to the role of Queen Padme Amidala, a young woman with far more maturity and wisdom than Princess Leia possessed at the beginning of A New Hope. She also has more ornamental clothing; her ceremonial dresses and headgear are ridiculously ornate. In spite of her stiff ceremonial appearance, she is a fearless and compassionate leader, and her empathy allows her to form a bond with the young Anakin (Jake Lloyd) that will play a major role in their future. Not to pick on the little guy, but I would actually have to identify Jake as the weakest link in the chain here. I found him irritating, either too sullen or too cutesy. Whenever he was on the screen, I got more of an impression of him reading cue cards than actually doing any acting. His best scene was probably the pod race, a fast-paced little-guy triumph slightly reminiscent of the Herbie films, and the success of that scene had far more to do with special effects than acting.

Ewan McGregor is perfectly fine as Obi-Wan, but he doesn’t get to do all that much here. He speaks – and smiles – very little and spends most of his time simply shadowing Qui-Gon. And his Scottish accent is wasted in a role that requires him to sound like a young Sir Alec Guinness. But I really don’t have any legitimate complaints against Obi-Wan. And – don’t kill me – I don’t even consider Jar Jar Binks (Ahmed Best) a detriment to the film. Clearly, he’s there for comic relief, but the film could use some of that since its main characters tend to be overly serious. I usually found him funny, and my favorite moment in the entire film occurs when Qui-Gon grabs his tongue to prevent him from nabbing another piece of fruit and sternly admonishes, “Don’t do that again.” Jar Jar can be a little irritating sometimes, but not overly so. I love the whole Gungan culture, particularly their leader, and the underwater scenes are cinematographically the most impressive in the film. The climactic final battle is also a visual treat and recalls Return of the Jedi.

All sorts of bizarre creatures populate this film, making it even more visually appealing. The trouble is that while the visual aspects of the movie are meticulously crafted, the plot is less enticing than those in the original trilogy, and the dialogue is sometimes painful. Anikin particularly suffers from poor writing. His “yippees” sound completely out of place, as does his groaner of an exclamation of “This is tense!” Most of his dialogue sounds unnatural. Other characters suffer not so much from bad dialogue as a lack of good dialogue. The original trilogy was full of great lines. I’m not sure I could come up with half a dozen great quotes from the first two films.

Nonetheless, Phantom Menace does provide an intriguing look into the rest of Lucas’ big picture. It’s heartening that he actually did deliver the prequel trilogy he promised, even if it took him twenty years to do it. I’m thinking he’ll opt out of the triple trilogy idea, but it’s nice to get the beginning of the story. And besides, a third trilogy would require disturbing the harmony Return of the Jedi so gloriously restored. Does Phantom Menace stand up to the original trilogy? Not completely. But it’s still pretty nifty.

Kidman and McGregor Make Magic in Moulin Rouge

I am a great fan of musicals, so when I heard about the movie Moulin Rouge, I was intrigued, particularly since the musical has gone out of fashion even where it is most expected; Disney’s recent lack of musical numbers, particularly sung by a film’s characters, has been most disheartening. But Moulin Rouge went on my long list of films-to-see-in-the-theater whose contents generally are shifted to films-to-see-on-video, the latter of which has grown to an unwieldy length, and defiant loyalty compelled me to be annoyed with the movie when it swiped two Oscars from Fellowship of the Ring. But a hearty recommendation from a couple friends of mine and an assurance that I would finally get to hear Ewan McGregor’s fabled brogue renewed my interest, so when my brother fell in love with the soundtrack last week, I was happy – until I discovered a hearty dislike for the songs he chose to play in mass repetition, particularly Because We Can. So when his infatuation with the soundtrack naturally led to a movie rental, I was a bit leery.

I have come to the conclusion that generally speaking, I am a Bear of Very Little Brain who prefers her movies straightforward and able to be taken at face value. An overarching sense of serenity doesn’t hurt either. So I perceived the first twenty or so minutes of Moulin Rouge as an assault on my senses, complete with wildly flashing images and a series of frantically energetic songs equally conducive to epileptic shock. The headache these opening scenes gave me was not encouraging, but I noted with some satisfaction that Christian’s (Ewan McGregor) face during this portion of the movie registered a series of contortions alternating among bewilderment, awe and nausea. Ultimately, it was this idealistic young writer who allowed me to fall in love with the movie despite my reservations. Moulin Rouge is his story, one which we understand by the broken state in which we find him at the beginning has taken a great toll on him. My brother commented that it’s never good when a movie starts out depressing and then goes into a flashback. But this movie careens so madly between quiet, gut-wrenching tragedy and joyfully choreographed chaos that the audience often forgets the haunting, inversely prophetic image of Christian, a year after the main events of the film, sitting at his typewriter in obvious anguish. Though he remains throughout the movie as a device to move along the narration, he is easy to overlook once another flashy dance number begins.

McGregor’s earnest performance as the lovestruck naif charmed me immediately. His face is marvelously expressive, but I most enjoyed the glorious smiles he so generously bestowed upon the audience. With the all too serious Obi-Wan Kenobi as my primary McGregor reference point, I was startled by his dashing exuberance. While his gleaming teeth and boyish dimples brilliantly conveyed his joy, it was the task of his eyes to carry the weight of his most grueling scenes. Add to that the worth-the-wait Scottish accent and a smoothly satisfying singing voice, and you have a most laudable lead in Ewan McGregor.

But before I get accused of dissolving into fangirlishness – an embarrassment I only intend to allow myself when referring to Clay Aiken and Billy Boyd – let me hastily add that Nicole Kidman is equally impressive. I tend to get far less excited about actresses than actors, but I am perfectly willing to concede that Kidman is one of the loveliest and most talented actresses in films today. My first impression of her in the much-maligned Far and Away has been confirmed with each new role I see her in. As Satine, a performer at the Moulin Rouge who dreams of true stardom, she exudes cool confidence on the stage but lapses into vulnerability when Christian allows her to experience love for the first time. Her overly sensual antics towards the beginning of the film were a bit of a turn-off for me - though I had to admit her double-entendre-laced Tevye-and-Lazar Wolf-style scene with Christian was pretty entertaining - but when she displayed her true feelings she was a very appealing and sympathetic character. I was also impressed by her singing voice, especially during her wispy inner monologues and spirited duets with Christian. Its tone was very pleasing and seemed a bit of a throwback to a WWII-era singing style. It also reminded me a lot of Helen Reddy's voice in Pete's Dragon.

The acting all around was solid, with particularly noteworthy performances by Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh and John Leguizamo. Broadbent portrays Harold Zidler, the nightclub owner who is by turns jolly and sinister but consistently over-the-top. His is a broadly comic role, and we get the impression he is constantly trying to keep things under control but never quite succeeding. His absurd performance of Like a Virgin with the Duke (Roxburgh) is a comedic highlight. Zidler comes across as a decent if slightly unscrupulous fellow. The Duke, meanwhile, is the most villainous character in the film, yet his ridiculous false teeth, pointy mustache, bad comb-over and irritating accent make him as laughable as he is creepy. And though we never want Satine to wind up with him, it’s hard not to feel a little sorry for this scorned wooer. The petrified facial expressions he offers in response to a number of musical assaults are hilarious. Leguizamo takes on the role of the Bohemian Henri Toulouse Lautrec with great gusto. He’s a wacky character whose cheeriness and romanticism make him especially likable. The role proved an unusual challenge for Leguizamo, as he had to present the appearance of being less than five feet tall.

Moulin Rouge is a musical, but it is unusual in that most of its music is derived from other sources. The film pays tribute to dozens of films with both the music used and the way certain scenes are staged. I must admit to not being crazy about most of the louder, flashier numbers, though they are very well done. Generally, the more elaborate the choreography and the more people are involved, the sillier the song is. The number in which Christian, Zidler, Satine and the Bohemians pitch their play to the Duke is incredibly complex and quite amusing. I enjoyed hearing the film’s take on Your Song and several other classics, but I found the most powerful performance to be the final reprise of Come What May, the song Christian and Satine create to pledge their love to one another. The scene that accompanies it heightens all of the emotions that have been building throughout the rest of the film, ending in a sublime moment of triumph.

I’m all for happy endings, so there’s a part of me that says I would have preferred that Moulin Rouge drop the “tragi” in tragi-comic. As bright and boisterous as the film gets, it cannot escape the other half of its description. However, it’s the quieter, more honest scenes, many of which are associated with the darker side of the film, that I usually enjoyed the most, so I won’t complain that the film went on just a bit longer than was needed to give me the finale I was hoping for. Moulin Rouge is a unique film, and it takes some getting used to. I wouldn’t even necessarily trust your first viewing to give you your final opinion of it. Stick with it, and if you’re spending an inordinate amount of time scratching your head, watch it once again, with the commentary if you’ve got it. It’s worth the extra effort.

Twice the Tigers is Twice as Nice

There were several films this summer that I knew about and was looking forward to for months in advance: Shrek 2, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, The Village… But one movie appeared to me out of nowhere on a television preview in May, and since then it has topped my list of movies to see this summer. The title: Two Brothers. The first preview I saw led me to believe that the brothers in question were a tiger cub and the young boy with whom he lived. I soon learned that this commercial had only shown half the story, and the other brother was, in fact, another tiger cub, which only increased my desire to see the movie. So when it showed up in our dollar theater last week, I jumped at the chance to go see it.

I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for animal movies. In this one, the two tigers truly are the stars. At the beginning of the film, we are treated to several majestically photographed scenes of the cubs and their parents romping in their Edenic little corner of the jungle. Each of the tigers has a distinct personality, with Kumar, future circus tiger, a little daredevil and Sangha, future cherished pet, a timid Mama’s boy. Their idyllic lifestyle is shattered when, as is too often the case in such films, humans show up and ruin everything. Famed hunter Aidan McRory (Guy Pearce) is in the area, searching this time not for wildlife to shoot down but artifacts to cart away and sell at auction. As it happens, though, the tigers live in an ancient temple, leading to an inevitable encounter that leaves the father tiger dead and Kumar in the hands of McRory.

In spite of his reputation, McRory is a very likable character throughout the film. When he comes upon Kumar, he treats the cub with great gentleness, eventually earning his trust. A life with this hunter, it seems, would not be such a bad one for the young tiger. But circumstances forbid this, and instead the cub winds up with a group of not-so-friendly circus folk determined to turn him into the ruthless beast their ancient tiger has never been. Sangha, meanwhile, is left alone with his mother, who eventually succumbs to a trap, leaving the cub to be discovered by Raoul (Freddie Highmore), the sweet, adorable son of the Administrator with whom Aidan has a working relationship. While Kumar is miserable in his new circus cage home, Sangha has a pretty comfortable life with the boy he has grown to love until an unfortunate accident sends him packing to be part of the emperor’s managerie.

The majority of the film follows the tigers’ storylines separately. It alternates back and forth until the climactic moment when the two are finally reunited, a year later, in what is intended to be a fight to the death. This film includes quite a bit more dialogue than The Bear, director Jean-Jacques Annaud’s earlier film in a similar vein, but it still relies very little on words to convey the story. The most heartfelt moments need no words at all. The tigers are expressive enough in their natural state.

Humanity on the whole doesn’t come off so well. We see people acting in cruel and destructive ways throughout the film and are told at the end that fewer than 5000 tigers remain in the wild. But individuals fare much better, especially Aidan and Raoul. Both come across as very honorable, kind-hearted people, with Aidan having the additional virtue of having his worldview changed as a result of his relationship with Kumar, to the point of vowing to lay down his gun permanently. Yes, the movie does preach, and yes, the tigers are a bit anthropomorphic at times. But the gorgeous cinematography, the tigers’ engaging personalities, the heartwarming story and the worthwhile message combine to create a film well worth a trip to the theater for the whole family.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

Yodeling Rustlers and Udderly Tasteless Jokes

There was a time when my family never missed a Disney feature animated film in the theater, but lately we’ve been more likely to catch their latest movies on video or DVD. There are still a couple I haven’t watched at all. So I was glad when I was presented with an opportunity to go see Home on the Range with my brother last week. Dad came along, and the three of us made up half the audience in the dollar theater, leaving me freer to react to some of the film’s wackiness in kind.

The first striking thing about Home on the Range is the animation. It was the animation style, along with the Disney name, that most attracted me to Brother Bear as well, though that animation is much more lush and realistic. Home on the Range has a retro look reminiscent of 101 Dalmatians or The Aristocats but even more exaggerated. The characters, particularly the barnyard residents of the ranch known as Little Patch of Heaven, are stylized with lots of distinct shapes and bright colors. The soundtrack appropriately features a number of country stars, and it was nice to see music a bigger part of this movie than it has been in most recent films.

The story focuses on three heroic heifers: Mrs. Calloway (Judi Dench), the stuffy matriarch of Little Patch of Heaven; Grace (Jennifer Tilly), a timid and gentle cow with a fondness for singing off-key; and Maggie (Roseanne Barr), the spunky newcomer to the ranch who hatches their plan. Little Patch of Heaven is about to be auctioned off because the owner, Pearl (Carole Cook), can’t afford the $750 payment needed to keep it. Everybody in these parts is suffering because a low-down cattle rustler named Alameda Slim (Randy Quaid) has swiped everybody’s herds. When Maggie learns that there’s a $750 reward out for him, she’s all too eager to make chase. Not only would the money save the farm, she would have her revenge on the man who ruined her former owner.

The three cows are different enough that there is plenty of opportunity for some entertaining banter among them. They also have a friendly rivalry with Buck (Cuba Gooding, Jr.), the self-important horse belonging to the kindly sheriff (Richard Riehle) who idolizes bounty hunter Rico (Charles Dennis). Other characters include Lucky Jack (Charles Haid), a peg-legged jackrabbit who helps the ladies in their rustler-catching endeavors; Audrey (Estelle Harris), an abrasive chicken with a tendency toward panic; Jeb (Joe Flaherty), an ornery old goat who fights with the barnyard youngsters, particularly the adorable triplet piglets; and Junior (Lance LeGault), a deep-voiced buffalo who guards the entrance to Slim’s lair. The film is mostly comedy, with plenty of pratfalls and fast-paced action, particularly a sequence toward the end in a mine shaft. It’s hard to take a movie with martial arts-performing cows too seriously.

I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Disney seems to be moving away from G-rated films. There was a spattering of adult humor in Home on the Range, just enough to move it out of the G range. Is it really necessary to have cheap shots like udder jokes? I don’t think they enhanced the movie at all. Probably I got the biggest laughs out of the villains. I loved the Willies (Sam Levine), Slim’s identical triplet sidekicks with blond bangs covering their eyes. These three don’t talk much, and when they do they tend to say the same dumb things over and over. They are clearly not very bright but they don’t seem to be malicious either. They’re just working with Slim because he’s their uncle. Slim, meanwhile, threw me for a loop. The first impression of him is of a menacing, glowering presence, nobody you’d want to cross paths with. He comes across as a pretty intimidating villain until he unexpectedly breaks out into exuberant yodeling while psychedelically flashing, googly-eyed cattle parade across the screen. This musical sequence struck me as so ludicrous that I found myself in tears, falling off my chair, while my dad and brother looked at me worriedly.

I don’t think Home on the Range is going to go down in history as a great Disney classic. It lacks the fluid animation and emotional resonance of The Lion King and other animated features whose place in the Disney canon is assured. But it was an entertaining film, certainly worth the dollar we paid to see it. And any movie that includes a psychedelic yodeling sequence is okay by me.

Thursday, July 1, 2004

You'll Find Few Fish Flicks to Top Finding Nemo

Cinematically speaking, 2003 was all about one thing for me: the 12-month-long hiatus between The Two Towers and The Return of the King. Fortunately, there were a few films throughout the year that helped keep my mind off the wait. Second-hand Lions, featuring the formidable triple-threat of Haley Joel Osment, Robert Duvall and Michael Caine. From Justin to Kelly, by the sheer virtue of negative comparison. And then there was a little flick by the name of Finding Nemo

I’m an unabashed Disney enthusiast, though I’ve tended to find the quality of their recent output largely unpredictable. I can no longer assume that I will enjoy most of the movies that bear the Disney label. Disney / Pixar, however, is another matter. This is a glorious collaboration that unfortunately is coming to an end after a string of masterpieces. When Toy Story first hit the theaters, computer animation as it was utilized in the film was a novel concept. By last year, audiences were fairly used to the medium, but Finding Nemo presented the most gloriously eye-catching animation yet. As one friend of mine put it, the film was visually very “pleasing.” All that ultramarine water through which the movie’s brightly-colored inhabitants traveled was just the ticket to cool off an audience wilting their way through a sweltering summer.

Finding Nemo focuses on two complementary quests: little clownfish Nemo’s (Alexander Gould) efforts to escape from the aquarium in the office of the dentist who swiped him from the ocean and his father Marlin’s (Albert Brooks) journey, aided and hindered by the forgetful blue tang Dory (Ellen Degeneres), to get his son back. Because Nemo is the lone survivor of a predatory attack that killed his hundreds of unborn siblings and his mother, he bears the distinguishing mark of an undersized fin. While this gives the neurotically protective Marlin another reason to fret about his son’s fragility, it only serves as an obstacle for Nemo to overcome.

After his first attempt to prove his courage landed him in the aquarium, Nemo must rely on his resourcefulness and his new friends to help get him out again. Among his colorful companions: Gill (Willem Dafoe), moorish idol with scars recalling his days out in the ocean; Gurgle (Austin Pendleton), a gramma obsessed with cleanliness; Peach (Allison Janney), a starfish who serves as tank lookout; Bubbles (Stephen Root), a yellow tang in love with the aquarium’s bubbles; Jacques (John Ranft), a shrimp who makes it his business to clean everything in the tank, including his companions; Bloat (Brad Garrett), a puffer fish who has a tendency to expand into a sphere when he’s stressed out; and Deb (Vicki Lewis), a damselfish who believes her reflection in the aquarium glass is actually a twin sister named Flo.

The tank is a pleasant enough place on the whole, but Nemo misses home. His desire to leave is lent urgency when the fish discover the dentist, a man who comes across as decent enough but dim-witted, announces his intention to present Nemo as a birthday present to his niece, who is notorious for shaking her previous pets to death. Led by Gill and aided by Nigel (Geoffrey Rush), a bumbling but magnanimous pelican willing to help any creature in need, as long as it isn’t a seagull, he plots a daring escape.

But the main storyline involves the quest of Marlin and Dory. Together, the wimpy clownfish and ever-bubbly tang encounter a number of frightening situations. They find themselves in the company of a group of sharks, led by the charming Bruce (Barry Humphries), who have difficulty abiding by their encouraging mantra of “Fish are friends, not food.” They are lured into the clutches of a grotesque bottom feeder. They must cross a stretch full of jellyfish after failing to follow the advice of a school of silver fish, whose leader is voiced by Pixar regular John Ratzenberger. They fall in with a group of turtles whose easy-going leader, Crush (Andrew Stanton), teaches Marlin something about letting go. They even make the useful acquaintance of a whale, thanks to Dory’s hitherto unknown linguistic talents. Their adventures are perilous, but there is always enough humor to balance out any overriding sense of danger. Degeneres is the standout cast member here; she makes Dory an incredibly likable and memorable character who provides most of the film’s biggest laughs. Her unlikely partnership with Marlin is very touching.

Finding Nemo broke box office records and became the most celebrated movie of the summer. The film lent itself especially well to the big screen, where its bright palette of colors could be best appreciated. But the story is just as charming and the animation just as superb on a television screen. While the adventure and colorful characters enthrall children, clever dialogue reels in the adults, making it a film to be celebrated and cherished by people of all ages. It’s just a shame the partnership is coming to an end…