A Grieving Dad Finds Renewed Purpose in We Bought a Zoo

My aunt Barb and I share a love of zoos, so I wasn’t surprised that she decided to rent We Bought a Zoo when I visited her and my uncle recently. As soon as the titular zoo came into view, both of us started fantasizing about how cool it would be to live in such a place. The landscape and the ragtag collection of animals combine to make a very appealing playground for Rosie (Maggie Elizabeth Jones), the adorable little girl whose father is the film’s main character.

Matt Damon is the most likable I’ve ever seen him as Benjamin Mee, a plucky widower who wants to make a better life for Rosie and her surly pre-adolescent brother Dylan (Colin Ford). While sunny Rosie seems to be adjusting fairly well to her mother’s death, it’s transformed Dylan into a borderline delinquent. While Benjamin processes his own grief, he longs for a way to restore the lost connection between him and his son.

Buying the zoo seems like a crazy idea, but Benjamin and Rosie both fall head over heels in love with the place at first glance. Dylan objects to being uprooted, while Benjamin’s pragmatic brother Duncan (Thomas Haden Church), an accountant, foresees financial disaster if he goes through with it. But Benjamin has fixed on a dream, and even though the zoo is in shambles and will require thousands of dollars and hours of manpower to get it up to code for inspection and a summer opening, he is determined to make a go of it. Is it a sustainable goal, or is he about to fall flat on his face?

Cameron Crowe directed and co-wrote this earnest charmer of a family film, which was based on a true story, though the family was transplanted from England to Southern California and the wife’s death, which served as the impetus for all the events in the film, did not occur in real life until after the zoo had been purchased. Here, buying the zoo is very much about this dad and his children making a new beginning and slowly learning to let go, never forgetting the warm, loving wife and mother whose early death stuck such a painful blow but allowing themselves to move forward with optimism.

Rated PG, the movie contains little material that could be considered objectionable. Death is certainly a prominent theme, but it’s dealt with gently, and I imagine that children going through a grieving process might find a lot to relate to here. Damon anchors the film with a sense of determination and good humor, while Jones steals every scene with her sage and funny proclamations and Ford’s angst keeps the family’s recent tragedy fresh in viewers’ minds. Church is a consistent source of humor with his sad-sack demeanor and snarky remarks. The bond between these very different brothers is one of my favorite aspects of the movie.

Of course, romance comes into the storyline a bit, though it’s really not the focus. As the film begins, Benjamin is still seeing his wife (Stephanie Szostak) everywhere he goes, and the last thing on his mind is starting a new relationship. However, he is thrown into constant contact with Kelly (Scarlet Johansson), his property’s no-nonsense head zookeeper, and a mutual affection gradually forms. Meanwhile, Dylan, still disgusted by the family’s move, attempts to deal with the confusion of a first romance with Kelly’s tomboyish niece Lily (Elle Fanning). I think I actually enjoyed this pairing more, partly because of the opportunity it presented for Benjamin to offer some wise advice as the rift between father and son starts to heal.

We Bought a Zoo is a sunny, funny, touching movie about family, grief and impossible dreams. Beautiful animals, a quirky zoo staff and a dad deeply devoted to his children and his new venture make this a truly endearing film. I watched it with my aunt, uncle and grandparents, and we all gave it the thumbs up. At just over two hours, it might be a little on the long side for young children, but it truly is a film that the whole family can enjoy together.

Two Sisters Find Friendship in an Arcadian Wonderland in My Neighbor Totoro

Last year, I watched Ponyo, acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Hiyao Miyazaki’s latest feature, a take on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid. I found it strange but charming and looked forward to familiarizing myself with more of the films helmed by this man I’ve so often heard praised as a giant in the realm of fantastical animated movies. Just recently, I went further back in his catalog with My Neighbor Totoro, originally released in the 1980s, though I watched the 2005 version released by Disney and dubbed by American actors, including sisters Dakota and Elle Fanning as movie sisters Satsuki and Mei Kusakabe.

Satsuki (Dakota) and Mei (Elle) have just moved into a ramshackle house out in the country with their father (Tim Daly), a professor who is kind and fun-loving but rather absorbed with his work. The purpose of the relocation is to be closer to the girls’ ailing mother (Lea Salonga), who resides in a nearby hospital. It’s obvious from the start that this is a close-knit family, and the children and their dad take genuine delight in exploring the house and surrounding wilderness together.

While Satsuki is strikingly mature for her age, she is almost as prone to giddy exhibitions of glee as her hyperactive little sister. Both of them absolutely love their new playground, and the notion that their home and the surrounding forest might be haunted intrigues them much more than it frightens them. They have the proper spirit for such a place, and soon their appreciation will be rewarded as the entities populating the forest reveal themselves.

The animation is breathtakingly gorgeous. Its idyllic countryside setting surrounded by thick stands of trees and shallow ponds looks so lifelike and appealing that I spent the whole movie wishing I could step into it. The girls’ exuberance is entirely understandable. What kid wouldn’t want to live in a place like that? The beauty of some scenes, such as the sequence in which the sisters and their dad spend the day thoroughly exploring their idyllic surroundings and the moment when the duo get caught in a torrential downpour, is enough to recommend the movie even if it weren’t attached to a charming story.

Oh, but it is. Satsuki and Mei are absolutely lovable in their childlike wonder and devotion to each other. Mei does get rather exhausting at times simply because her energy is so boundless and her lung capacity matches it, but this contributes to some of the sweetest moments involving Totoro (Frank Welker), the enormous gray creature she finds asleep in the woods one day. Drowsy Totoro, so named by Mei after the noises he makes upon seeing her for the first time, has a gentle ursine quality to him. He has a ferocious roar, but mostly he just seems like an overstuffed teddy bear. At first, when Mei relates her account of their meeting, Satsuki thinks her imagination is running away with her. However, she soon begins to hope that she might meet Totoro for herself.

This movie features several fantastical beings, but the title character is the most engaging. While he does not speak in any intelligible tongue, the girls nonetheless forge a tentative friendship with him, and he allows them glimpses into his world in mystical moments that remind me of the wintry flight of fancy taken by the boy at heart of the silent film The Snowman. Their interactions are tender, funny, magical and sometimes just a bit frightening. This is a powerful entity, but his intentions are not malicious. This, then, is a simple story of friendship and respect as the girls overcome apprehensions to reach out to Totoro and he repays the favor.

Visually, the calm, lush countryside of this movie appeals to me more than the roiling seascape of Ponyo, and when the spirits of the house and forest are absent, the movie has a purely natural look about it, whereas Ponyo always seems a bit surrealistic. The fact that only the sisters can see the mysterious beings living around them almost begs the question of whether they are even there or if this place is just a fertile breeding ground for childhood fantasies. However, enough tangible evidence of their presence exists that I would come down on the side of their being real. They look quite as strange as the sea creatures in Ponyo, but there is beauty in the eccentricity, whether they’re gasping over the tiny dust balls that scurry out of the way when they enter a room or marveling at the enormous flying bus-shaped cat that serves as a shuttle to the spirits. Through it all, a sense of innocent fun prevails, particularly when Joe Hisaishi’s cheerful score, reminiscent of a mid-century program like Leave It to Beaver, kicks in.

My Neighbor Totoro is a feast for the eyes, a treat for the ears and a joy for the child in all of us. Everybody should be so lucky as to have a neighbor like Totoro.