You're Never Too Young to Be Old in Howl's Moving Castle

This fall, I’ve been enjoying the Disney releases of some of master Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki’s movies. They’re very unusual, rich in artistry and imagination and full of surrealistic images. One of the weirder ones is Howl’s Moving Castle, originally released in 2004.

Sophie (Emily Mortimer) is a young woman who works at a haberdashery. One day, she runs afoul of the Witch of the Waste (Lauren Bacall), a woman of monstrous girth who puts a curse on her. Sophie soon realizes that she has instantly aged about 60 years. Instead of young and slim, she is elderly and stooped, and she can’t stay at home in this condition. So it is that Sophie, now looking like an old crone (Jean Simmons), makes for the countryside and eventually seeks refuge inside Howl’s Moving Castle.

Howl (Christian Bale) is a mysterious sorcerer who comes and goes at will. He’s mildly intimidating but mostly kind, and he is happy to welcome Sophie into his home as a housekeeper. His household also includes a cheeky but sweet boy named Markl (Josh Hutcherson) and a wise-cracking fire demon named Calcifer (Billy Crystal) who could be the key to restoring Sophie to her former self.

In her travels she also meets a scarecrow with an enormous smile pasted on his face. Although this cursed fellow who she dubs Turniphead is mute and can only get around by hopping, using the post on which he is stuck as a pogo stick, he proves a valuable ally after she earns his loyalty by saving him from a compromising situation. She also comes into contact with the Witch of the Waste again, and how these two continue to relate to one another is one of the oddest but most touching elements of the movie.

Much of the movie takes place inside Howl’s castle, which wanders over the countryside on mechanical legs and features a magical device that allows its door to open upon one of several terrains, depending on which way the dial is pointed. One of the landscapes added into the mix is a glorious meadow, and there are a couple of idyllic moments in which Sophie sits placidly by a lake, so relaxed that the years seem to drop off her.

In these scenes, we see Miyazaki’s love of nature, but overall, that’s not a huge focus here. The movie does not feature as much cold industrialism as Castle in the Sky, but it does seem to encroach, and some scenes are pretty dark. Additionally, there’s at least one subplot that doesn’t quite seem to fit in. The movie is two hours long, and I wonder if he wasn’t cramming a bit too much into it.

On the whole, however, this is an enjoyable movie populated with fantastical characters and celebrating the power of love. It’s also an interesting commentary on the perspective that old age grants; though Sophie is barely an adult at heart, the wisdom she develops as a result of her curse is most beneficial. Themes of redemption and sacrifice also run strong. Meanwhile, Crystal’s excellent voice work helps to keep the movie light-hearted, as most of Calcifer’s interjections are good for a laugh.

While I didn’t like it quite as much My Neighbor Totoro, I think I prefer to Castle in the Sky and would probably put it at about the same enjoyment level as Ponyo. It’s a strange and surreal movie; you’ll have to accept the magical qualities of this world going into it. If you can roll with the strangeness, however, you may just find Howl’s Moving Castle a moving film experience.

Pixar Meets James Bond in Cars 2

In the second season of Flight of the Conchords, the oddball HBO comedy about a pair of eccentric New Zealand folk musicians trying unsuccessfully to make it big in New York City, band manager Murray introduces New Zealand’s childlike Prime Minister, who is a little behind the times on most pop cultural matters. One of the first things he does is express his disappointment at not having seen the end of Cars, which was playing on the plane on his way over. These characters may all be hunks of metal, but you really do get invested in them. At least I do. I’ve been looking forward to Cars 2 all year.

At its heart, this sequel, like the original and like so many Pixar flicks, is primarily a buddy movie. Everything hangs on the friendship between humbled hotshot racecar Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and open-hearted redneck tow truck Mater (Larry the Cable Guy). Lightning is smooth and cool, while Mater is a first-class countrified goofball. He’s also my favorite character, so I was delighted to see that he is basically the central character this time around. While Lightning has more big races to win, Mater is the one who fuels the conflict and has the most exciting job to do.

The movie puts us right in the middle of the action with a car we’ve never met, sophisticated Aston Martin Finn McMissile (Michael Caine). It’s a dizzying opener indicative of many of the scenes to follow, with a lot happening at once, to the point of mild confusion. In the first movie, the racing scenes are chaotic, but they’re balanced out by the stretches of time in sleepy Radiator Springs. While we do spend a few minutes in that town and revisit the residents (with the exception of Paul Newman’s Doc Hudson, whose character died along with the actor who portrayed him), we mostly see them away from Radiator Springs, criss-crossing the globe along with their hometown hero.

Lightning’s international tour comes about because Mater locks heads with egotistical Italian speed demon Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro) over his derisive comments about Lightning on a call-in TV show. Their on-the-air showdown prompts Lightning to intervene and pledge his intention to forego a relaxing summer vacation in favor of a jet-setting, high-pressure one. Once they arrive at the site of the first race, overwhelmed Mater can scarcely contain his excitement, especially once he believes he has scored a date with a hot car, Holley Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer). His exuberance embarrasses Lightning and causes him some serious trouble, leading to a falling-out. For most of the movie, then, Mater is off on his own, trying to find a sense of purpose in a world where he always seems to be doing the wrong thing.

Little does he realize that thanks to Holley, he has now become entangled in a web of international espionage. After mistakenly identifying him as a fellow spy, she and Finn continue to work with Mater and issue instructions to him, but the movie is half-over before Mater really begins to understand what is going on. They think his dopeyness is a cover, an act to throw people off, rather like the signature schtick of expert detective Columbo as played by the late great Peter Falk. It’s not. However, there is one thing he really knows, and that is engines. Hence, he picks up on details that others would miss, and this knowledge proves very useful even if he is in completely over his head as a spy. What’s more, even though he’s just being himself, his bumpkin mannerisms do throw most people off, and that sometimes works to his advantage as well. But can he, Finn and Holley put a stop to the dangerous shenanigans that are threatening the well-being of cars around the world?

Cars 2, directed by John Lasseter and Brad Lewis, is an entertaining and eye-popping movie. Part buddy comedy and part James Bond spoof, it revels in complex action sequences and sly visual jokes. I love the way the movie presents visions of Japan, Italy and England that are rich in recognizable detail but skewered to fit this vehicular world. The high-tech zaniness of Tokyo is discombobulating but amusing, particularly during a sequence in which Mater uses the restroom and is confronted with a trippy talking computer. I loved the sunny brilliance of the Italian cityscape, though I didn’t catch which city it was. It’s in Italy that we actually have a chance to slow down for a bit as Lightning and his friends get the royal welcome from a relative of his pit crew. Then, of course, there’s London, which has been featured in so many Disney movies. Big Ben(tley) is the starting point of a pretty thrilling sequence, and Vanessa Redgrave lends her voice to an endearing vehicular version of Queen Elizabeth II.

When I heard that Pixar was planning a sequel to Toy Story, I was skeptical, but it ended up impressing me just as much as the first movie (and the third reduced me to a blubbering puddle of goo). While I enjoyed the movie, I don’t think that Cars 2 is quite that kind of home run. The first movie is so much about hometown pride and a group of eccentric characters teaching the arrogant but lonely Lightning that there’s more to life than winning races. While Mater is even more prominent in this movie than in the first, the rest of the characters take a backseat, appearing in only a few scenes and not adding that much to the overall story. Meanwhile, aside from Finn, Holley and Francesco, I found the new characters hard to latch onto. Despite the core friendship between Lightning and Mater, the movie feels most concerned with being a send-up of spy films, and as such, it is less focused on character than on explosive displays. Some of these scenes are a lot of fun, but sometimes the movie seems to get a bit bogged down. There’s also the thread of big oil versus alternative fuel running through the sequel, and the ultimate point seems to push going green, but the message is a bit convoluted.

One thing that Pixar fans have come to depend on is end-credits fun, and Cars 2 doesn’t disappoint in that respect. While I think I laughed more at the credits for Cars, I did enjoy the flat, retro-style vignettes showing a series of postcards involving various characters. I also liked the end-credits songs, particularly Brad Paisley’s Nobody’s Fool, a touching song from the perspective of Mater as he realizes how the world perceives him and struggles to come to terms with that identity.

Meanwhile, like the other Pixar movies, this one includes a short before the main feature. While most tend to be wordless and feature characters exclusive to that short, this time around we get to check up on the Toy Story gang in the cute Hawaiian Vacation, which finds Woody, Buzz and the whole gang trying to create an idyllic beach retreat for Ken and Barbie after their plan to stow away in Bonnie’s backpack fails to land them passage on her trip to Hawaii. In just a few minutes, each character gets a moment or two in the spotlight. In fact, I would say the short does a more effective job of highlighting Woody’s posse than the feature does of highlighting most of the Radiator Springs residents. They do have their moments, but most of them end up getting a bit lost in the shuffle.

In the end, then, I like Cars 2, but it felt a little too glitzy to me and lacking just a bit in the character department. I’ve heard some comments that this one was all about the money and that it was a disgrace to the Pixar name, and I can’t agree with that. Nonetheless, after two years of sequels, I am really looking forward to the next original Pixar movie.

There's Nothing Plastic About Lars and the Real Girl

I joined my friends for a late-night showing of Lars and the Real Girl armed only with the knowledge that it starred Ryan Gosling, who won me over in The Notebook (though not as much as James Garner in the same role), and that it involved a "love doll" who Lars introduces as his girlfriend. All I could think was of Jude Law in A.I.; I assumed this was some sort of crude futuristic comedy about a man's extended relationship with what amounts to a mechanical prostitute. I expected her to walk and talk and betray only the slightest indications that she was not biologically based. Boy, was I in for a surprise!

We see from the film's opening scenes that Lars Lindstrom (Gosling) is severely socially stunted. He lives in a large garage on the property of the house where Gus (Paul Schneider), his distant older brother, lives with his compassionate, pregnant wife Karin (Emily Mortimer), and though she tries valiantly to coax him out of his isolation, Lars merely smiles blandly, blinks rapidly and retreats into his own private world from which he emerges only for church on Sundays and work during the week. It's on the job that he learns about a company from which he can purchase a life-size, anatomically correct doll. Ignoring the timid advances of Margo (Kelli Garner), a sweet, broad-grinned co-worker, he investigates further...

When an enormous package arrives at his door six weeks later, we all have a pretty good idea what it is, but Karin and Gus don't, so they're ecstatic when a giddy Lars rings on their doorbell to announce that he has a visitor and, out of a sense of propriety, he would like permission for her to stay in their guest room rather than in the garage with him. And then they meet Bianca, whose name does not appear on the cast list because there is nothing remotely human about her. She is nothing but a life-size doll with a glazed expression and an inability to stand up. Hence, she must sit in a wheelchair, which Lars must purchase for her because, as he explains in his first real conversation since the start of the movie, it was lost along with the rest of her luggage on the plane from Brazil. To Lars, Bianca is very real, and as he converses with her at the dinner table, Gus and Karin exchange looks of alarm. Lars clearly has lost his mind.

But a small stroke of genius by Karin lands them in the office of Dagmar (Patricia Clarkson), a doctor who, under the guise of treating Bianca for a mysterious illness, initiates weekly psychiatric sessions with Lars in which she patiently encourages him to reveal his buried feelings bit by bit. Meanwhile, she advises the reluctant Karin and incredulous Gus to act as though Bianca is real. Rather than keep up this ruse on their own, they alert their friends, their pastor and the most prominent members of their congregation. Soon, the whole town knows about Bianca, and the already close-knit community grows even closer as they rally around her, adopting her as a sort of mascot and almost forgetting themselves that she's nothing but a hunk of plastic.

Gosling is fantastic as Lars, whose insecurities run so deep that physical contact with another person is literally painful for him. In the beginning, he seems to have no concept of how to interact normally with others. He stares blankly when people speak to him, often not acknowledging them at all. But something happens when Bianca arrives. He begins to act like a normal person. Yes, he spends half his time talking to a doll and inventing her end of the conversation, which only he can hear, but he also talks to the people around him, coming out of his shell gradually, to the point where he is attending parties and accepting Margo's invitation to go bowling, which never would have happened before Bianca. Although most people initially regard him as a freak for believing that this doll is alive, through her he is able to finally begin really living. Gosling's transformation from almost robotically awkward, complete with a unique collection of tics, to fully functional within the community at large is dramatic and totally believable.

Everyone in the cast is equally impressive. I loved Mortimer, who brought gentleness coupled with a fierce spirit to this very concerned sister-in-law who in many ways seems to act like the mother Lars never knew. Schneider's expressive face enhances the comedy of the film's strangest moments. Gus is less willing to go along with the charade than just about anyone else in town, and as such he probably echoes the reaction of many watching the movie. He's the voice of reason in an unreasonable series of events, but he slowly comes to discover that if you care enough about a person, you're willing to put aside your dignity for his well-being.

There is a definite Pinocchio-ish strain through this movie as everyone around Lars hopes that his love for Bianca will eventually be replaced with love for a "real girl". The girl in question is Margo, and Garner is absolutely winning as this understanding young woman who is so fond of Lars despite, or perhaps because of, all his oddities. Once she recovers from her initial shock, she treats Bianca warmly and is careful to make only overtures of friendship to Lars, lest it appear she is trying to sabotage his relationship. The blue fairy would be the magnanimous Dagmar, and Clarkson wonderfully conveys her professionalism and quiet willingness to listen and not to judge. She allows Lars to call all the shots in his courtship with Bianca and in his decisions to share the secrets he has long kept submerged.

Each of Lars' neighbors has something to contribute to his development, from the kindly secretary at work to the feisty elderly woman at church who is especially attentive to him. The movie was filmed in Ontario, and Adam Kimmel's cinematography offers lots of sparse, snowy landscapes, which look at once forbidding and inviting. David Tom's simple guitar-based score complements the landscape perfectly. As far as I noticed, the name of the town was never mentioned, nor the location. I assumed it to be somewhere in the northern reaches of Wisconsin or Minnesota, but perhaps it's meant to take place in Canada. I guess it doesn't really matter; the ambiguity lends the film more universality.

Every element of this movie, which was filmed in a month and looks like it didn't cost very much, is perfectly in place, from the excellent cast to Craig Gillespie's direction. They take Nancy Oliver's unconventional but beautiful screenplay and make it seem perfectly plausible. Sure, the community is idealized; it's one thing to accept Lars' fantasy with a wink and a nod, quite another to rush Bianca off by ambulance and admit her into the emergency room. Then again, in such a small town, the hospital probably doesn't have a lot of patients to deal with at any given time and can afford to play along for the sake of a townsperson who, by the end of the film, can have no doubt as to how much he is loved. If everyone grows to care about Bianca, who takes on a fabled philanthropic life of her own like Captain Tuttle, the officer Hawkeye invents in one of my favorite episodes of M*A*S*H, it's because they are willing to go to such great lengths to sustain the happiness of their delusional friend and help him to become an active part of the community.

I wasn't sure what to expect out of Lars and the Real Girl, but I certainly wasn't prepared for something this tender and touching, a movie that made me feel good about being a person and hopeful for our ability to work together for the good of others, even if our first inclination is to scoff and scorn. As I sat in the theater with a sparse sprinkling of other viewers, I don't think the smile ever left my face. Who knew that a movie about a plastic doll would have so much to say about humanity?

A Curious Correspondence and a Dashing Stranger

When, after great anticipation, I finally watched Finding Neverland, I was treated to a preview for a movie I’d never heard of. Entitled Dear Frankie, it was a Scottish film about a deaf boy who corresponds continually with his sailor father – or so he thinks. The letters are actually written by his mother, who is trying to protect him from the fact that his father is in reality an enraged jerk from whom she continues to flee, and eventually she decides to cement the illusion by hiring someone to portray the boy’s father for a day. The premise intrigued me, and the fact that it was Scottish did not hurt one bit. As I’ve said on so many other occasions, I could listen to a Scot talk all day.

Anyway, I thought it sounded like an interesting movie, but I didn’t hear any more about it until I went to the video store last week and saw it among the new releases. We were out in search of chick flicks, and though this didn’t look like it fit the description precisely, it seemed a good prospect. We watched The Prince and Me the first night and Dear Frankie the last night of our rental, and we wound up two for two. We should rent movies more often.

The look of the film is lovely, particularly in scenes when Frankie (Jack McElhone) goes out to look out over the bay and we’re treated to grand views of surrounding moors. Within the city, there is grittiness; Frankie’s family is poor, and while they’re not exactly in the slums, they’re certainly on the lower end of the middle class spectrum. Frankie is an intelligent and affectionate child doted on by his mother Lizzie (Emily Mortimer) and, to a lesser extent, his grandmother (Mary Riggans), who knows and disapproves of Lizzie’s trickery. It’s a bit like going to extraordinary lengths to convince your child to believe in the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus, and the longer the ruse continues, the more painful ultimate revelation will be. But beyond Lizzie’s desire to protect her son is an ulterior motive: because he does not speak, receiving Frankie’s letters is the only way she can hear her son’s voice.

Lizzie finds a confidante in Marie (Sharon Small), a sprightly woman who convinces her to come work with her at a nearby restaurant. Frankie has trouble adjusting to his class but finds a kindred spirit in Catriona (Jayd Johnson), a friendly girl who happens to know sign language. Less congenial is Ricky (Sean Brown), who antagonizes Frankie and makes a bet with him that his dad will not stop to see him when his boat docks in town for a few days. When Lizzie learns of the bet – and the boat, whose name she had adopted for the fictional boat from which Frankie’s dad writes – she is distraught and embarks on an intimidating search for a man who will agree to be Frankie’s father for a day. Complicating matters is the fact that Frankie’s real father has fallen terminally ill and is desperately searching for the family that fled him in order to make amends before the end.

In the end, it’s Marie to the rescue, furnishing out of thin air a man with, as Marie requests, “no past, no present and no future.” And yet strangely possessing all the qualities she wishes existed in Frankie’s real father. Gerard Butler, known to me as the Phantom from the recent film version of Lloyd Weber’s masterpiece, is the stranger, a quietly intuitive man who seems to know just what Frankie needs. The man and boy bond so quickly that it’s easy to forget they are not actually related, and you wonder at the marvelous luck that allowed Lizzie to find such an incredibly gentle and generous man to give her boy the thrill of a lifetime.

The truth of Frankie’s past is the darkest part of the film, and Butler is truly heartbreaking as his character reacts to Lizzie’s admission that Frankie’s father beat him into deafness as an infant. But in the present day, there is pervasive warmth and tenderness, and that is what remains at the conclusion of the film in spite of the realizations that precede it. Americans may have to pay extra close attention in order to comprehend the accents, but the dialogue is worth the extra effort, and the tones are melodious as always. There are a few profanities thrown about, but these are rare, and there’s really very little in the film to render it inappropriate for younger audiences. Dear Frankie is a fine family film with just a touch of fairy dust thrown in to make it fly.