Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Forgotten Features: Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003)


The early noughties saw a myriad of new, computer animated features. Naturally, traditional animation found it difficult to compete. 2003 saw the release of Dreamworks’ CGI/traditionally animated hybrid Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, which, unsurprisingly, also found itself to be a little lost amid the sea of new age, CG flicks. As time has progressed, the film doesn’t seem to have appreciated in value any, in that it hasn’t garnered a huge fan base – rather it appears to have become something of a forgotten sunken treasure.

The film follows the eponymous pirate Sinbad, voiced by Brad Pitt, in his quest to retrieve the Book of Peace from Eris the goddess of discord (Michelle Pfeiffer) in order to save his childhood friend, Prince Proteus (Joseph Fiennes) from being executed in place of him. Marina (Catherine Zeta-Jones), Proteus’ fiancée, accompanies Sinbad to ensure he does as he promises, inevitably resulting in a romance between the pair.

The film appears to derive more inspiration from Greek mythology than from its initial basis, but nonetheless proves an enjoyable experience. The characters are somewhat rather two-dimensional, and the blossoming romance between Marina and Sinbad is very predictable – but this doesn’t really matter. It’s expected, yes, but this is hardly detrimental to the film itself. This is a fun adventure flick, one which ultimately delivers what it promises: action, drama, romance, comedy; it’s not perfect, but it is nonetheless captivating throughout.

The animation is particularly noteworthy, mostly due to the seamless blend of computer generated imagery and traditional techniques. It must also be noted that this was the final animated feature distributed by Dreamworks to contain traditional animation. With that in mind, it’s even more surprising to me that this film has been swept under the proverbial rug. One aspect of the film that deserves appraisal is the artistry and design of the characters, monsters and locations, particularly Eris and her realm Tartarus. Eris leaves haunting wispy trails behind her as she morphs from one pose into another, while Tartarus is enchantingly bleak, barren and mysterious.

The voiceovers are decent, although, as usual, I have an issue with the use of ‘big names’ in the role of main characters. Brad Pitt as Sinbad conveys himself as a little forced to me. On the other hand, Michelle Pfeiffer is surprisingly effective as the film’s seductively menacing antagonist, Eris. In addition, the score (composed by Harry Gregson-Williams) is magnificent, and perfectly encapsulates the action/adventure genre.

The only major issue I have with the film is its pacing in terms of the character development of Sinbad and Marina. Their romance is altogether rather underplayed and contrived, and seems to develop very abruptly. Yet, despite my having claimed this to be a ‘major issue’, it does not make the story any less convincing or enjoyable. There are other moments that seem just as contrived, and some which threaten to push beyond the boundaries of believability (okay, so I can take sea monsters, sirens and vengeful goddesses but, come on, a flying ship?!). Ultimately, however, these instances do not detract from the film’s enjoyableness and upbeat, energetic pace. What does disappoint, however, at least for me, is the film’s conclusion and Eris’ eventual defeat. The resolution is logical (if predictable) and generally satisfying, but it’s a little underwhelming considering the scenes of action that preceded it, making it seem a tad anticlimactic.

Regardless, this is worth seeing. Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas is smart, funny, fast-paced and full of action, and proves to be something of a hidden treasure in Dreamworks’ animated canon. Though it’s hardly what I’d call legendary, it’s not bad at all!

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Forgotten Features: Fun and Fancy Free (1947)


Between 1943 and 1949, Disney produced a series of ‘package films’ comprised of various animated segments. The features which followed the ‘Good Neighbour’ films Saludos Amigos (1943) and The Three Caballeros (1945) focussed primarily on musical numbers and loosely connected short stories. The first of these was Make Mine Music (1946), a feature containing ten animated sequences inspired by various music styles and visuals. Its success led to a follow-up, 1948’s Melody Time, arguably the best of the package films. The remaining two package features, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr Toad (1949) and Fun and Fancy Free (1947), were comprised of two films, the latter telling the story of ‘Bongo’, a bear who escapes the captivity of the circus and falls in love, and ‘Mickey and the Beanstalk’, including the last speaking appearance of Walt Disney as Mickey Mouse. Sadly however, this consequently results in it being the most disjointed of the package films; the stories are not connected in any sense, and it’s a little too jarring and uneven to be considered ‘fun’.

To begin with, the film’s title has little to do with its content. While the 1949 release The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr Toad has an awkward and frankly unmemorable title, it is nonetheless clear on what it promises to deliver – adaptations of ‘The Wind in the Willows’ and ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. Fun and Fancy Free, meanwhile, is an ill-thought through title, and one which reinforces the sprawling mess of a feature it precedes.

The two sequences are introduced and bridged by Jiminy Cricket, who inexplicably acts as the host. Firstly, he plays a record which tells the story of Bongo, an interesting if altogether rather slow cartoon. He then heads over to the house of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen, who relates the story of ‘Mickey and the Beanstalk’ to Luana Patten and puppets Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd. The cartoon itself is fairly enjoyable in its entirety (although I personally find Mickey Mouse cartoons a little too sugary – and this is no exception), but its pacing is severely inhibited by the jarring live action intermissions and unfunny one-liners which become quite tiresome after a while.

Altogether, this film is something of an oddity. I mean, what is this, exactly? Whereas the other features of this era at least adhered to and embraced a particular theme throughout, this offering just feels bizarre, unconnected and weak. That is not to say that the sequences themselves, individually, are not enjoyable, but they do not work well together to form a feature. That, and the live action interstitials are just plain annoying and unfunny. Needless to say, by the film’s conclusion, I was left feeling rather cold and unsure of what I had just watched. It just feels like a thinly veiled bridging sequence; granted, that’s essentially what it is, but there’s little attempt to disguise it. Ultimately, it’s worth viewing at least once but in retrospect, Fun and Fancy Free proves to be anything but.

Friday, 1 August 2014

Forgotten Features: Home on the Range (2004)


In 2004, it seemed the hand-drawn animated film was soon to be a thing of the past. Disney had decided to abandon the traditional techniques as practised by Walt Disney in favour of computer animation, a decision which likely stemmed from the declining interest in the former, and the simultaneous stiff competition posed by the latter. While Brother Bear (2003) is widely perceived to be their swansong in this field (prior to the revival of these techniques in 2009), the very last traditionally animated ‘moo-vie’ of the period, Home on the Range (2004), a film about three cows’ attempts to capture a cattle rustler, proved to be an udder disappointment (sorry, I couldn’t resist). But was this film really just a load of bull?
 
When the ‘Patch of Heaven’ dairy farm is under threat of being sold to outlaw Alameda Slim, three dairy cows set out on a mission to capture him and use the reward money to save their farm. The plot is noticeably simple. While this doesn’t make the film particularly ‘bad’, it does make it profoundly unmemorable which is a shame considering the film’s rousing score (courtesy of Alan Menken) and excellent voice acting (as grating as Roseanne Barr can be). Speaking of which, therein lies another of the film’s flaws, and one which I rarely identify in a Disney movie – the characters appear to be based on the actors who play them, as opposed to the actors having been appropriately selected to play characters who are already established. Protagonist Maggie is essentially Roseanne Barr in cow form, while Buck is Cuba Gooding, Jr. reincarnated as a horse. In addition, it seems to be a rather uncharacteristically menial role for Judi Dench, who voices Mrs Calloway. Put simply, the entire ensemble seems lazily crafted, derivative and two-dimensional. Nonetheless, the cast seems to work together and they make the most of a tired and frankly uninspired script.

Despite the weak and unoriginal plot, the film does have its moments, although the humour is at times juvenile, crude or just plain silly. Again, this is not necessarily bad, but it’s not for everyone. The yodelling sequence, although hardly the epitome of intellectual humour and wit, is fun and unexpected, though it does ultimately reduce the villain to a less-than-menacing single joke. The crude humour is, at times, a little excessive and, to some, might seem puerile, but it doesn’t degrade the film substantially. Ultimately, the film is amusing. It’s not hilarious, but it manages to raise a few smiles, at least.

Yet, despite it being a comedy, there are also several attempts to create pathos. Naturally, this largely flounders not only due to the film’s genre and comic theme, but also due to the characters and story being rather bland, formulaic and uninteresting. Bonnie Raitt’s rendition of ‘Will the Sun Ever Shine Again’ is beautiful, and is the film’s one redeeming feature in this respect. However, it nonetheless seems incongruous and not in-keeping with the film’s ridiculous, outlandish tone. One of the film’s highlights is its soundtrack, which manages to truly capture the essence of the classic western. It’s just a shame that the film itself is nowhere near as grand as the score misleadingly indicates.

The animation is average, but far from the worst I have seen. In fact, the animation quality itself is acceptable – it’s the style that’s questionable. One might argue that it suits the setting and comic, light-hearted genre, but ultimately the ‘geometric’ designs simply make it even less engaging – the drawings have edge but lack warmth and character.

Overall, the film is a bit flat. It’s not nearly as bad as some say, but it’s distinctly weaker than most other Disney features. As previously stated, there are elements that work very well – the music is fantastic, the voiceovers are decent, and it is, generally, funny. It must be said, however, that the film is merely an average experience. An amusing farce it may be, but a little patch of heaven, it is not.

Saturday, 26 July 2014

Forgotten Features: Meet the Robinsons (2007)

Caution: Spoilers!

 
As something of a hidden gem in the midst of a batch of mediocre and frankly disappointing releases, it’s unsurprising that Disney’s 47th animated feature Meet the Robinsons (2007) has been somewhat overlooked. As with Chicken Little (2005), the film was represented in trailers as a slapstick, madcap comedy flick, similar to one of Dreamworks’ offerings, and it must be said that the character designs did not initially appeal. However, unlike the cheap comedy and sprawling, meandering narrative characteristic of the aforementioned feature, Meet the Robinsons is not as disposable and trashy as it was initially conveyed to be.

Based on William Joyce’s A Day with Wilbur Robinson, the film follows Lewis, an orphan and aspiring inventor, who is transported to the future in a time machine piloted by the enigmatic, fast-talking Wilbur Robinson. Before long, he becomes acquainted with the entire Robinson clan, resulting in a humorous adventure filled with witty one-liners and plot twists galore! Despite some minor issues with the narrative, particularly towards the film’s conclusion, overall it’s funny, smart, and carries with it a heartfelt, positive, moral tone.

The Robinson family themselves, despite their purposeful unconventionality and outlandish behaviour, are strangely endearing, not to mention believable, bizarre as it may sound. There are instances, however, when this unconventionality is a little forced. The meatball fight scene at the dinner table springs to mind. But overall, these scenes are few, and hardly detrimental to a plot that is unexpectedly heart-warming, well-established and intelligent.

My only major criticism would be that the pacing becomes a little fraught towards the end of the film, due to the convoluted and nonsensical consequences of time travel. The fact that Lewis’ proclamation that he will never invent bowler hat ‘Doris’ makes Doris combust instantaneously is, frankly, a rather rushed and unsatisfying resolution, while his showing Bowler Hat Guy the alternate, dystopian future makes no sense as that particular time stream would not exist due to his already having vanquished Doris. Admittedly, I’m being nitpicky here; it is likely that this was acknowledged during the creative process, taking into account the fact that the film is rather lengthy as it is without addressing this issue. Instead, there seems to be a more prominent focus on character development, humour and an emotional back-story, rather than on developing an accurate, complex time travel narrative, which ultimately pays off.

The comic timing is spot on – it’s fast-paced, witty, and refrains from being too condescending to young audiences. Some of the humour is, admittedly, quite juvenile, but at other times it’s actually surprisingly sophisticated. Music is also one of the film’s most memorable aspects, with a characteristically quirky score composed by the easily-recognisable Danny Elfman, and songs by the likes of Rufus Wainwright and Rob Thomas.

On a concluding note, it was a nice touch that the film’s main moral – ‘Keep Moving Forward’ – derives from a quote by Walt Disney, as referenced at the film’s conclusion, although there are times when the enforcement of this moral feels a little laboured. In all, however, its repeated usage only serves to make the film’s accompanying message seem all the more accomplished. While not faultless, the film serves as an example that a decent, heartfelt story can be told through computer animation, and is, in itself, indicative of a bright future in terms of animation. Without a doubt, much like the moral it promotes, for Disney, Meet the Robinsons represents a sure-fire step in the right direction.

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

Forgotten Features: Treasure Planet (2002)


The new millennium saw Disney animation at its nadir. The Renaissance was over, and Disney’s output had (arguably) declined in quality considerably. In retrospect, however, the films that followed are perhaps not quite as bad as they have been made out to be – rather they are, for the most part, rather interesting – if less memorable – as experiments, some of which work rather well. Of particular note is a trilogy of science-fiction inspired movies, the last of which was Treasure Planet (2002), a retelling of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel Treasure Island. This particular feature has often been regarded as something of a dud, when it is in fact a supremely imaginative film, if a supremely flawed one.

While it is evident that a lot of consideration went into the visual appeal of the film, conceptually it nonetheless seems underdeveloped, to the point at which the finished product conveys itself as being all too surreal and ridiculous to be in any way emotionally engaging. The awe-inspiring futuristic/space setting is unusually countered by an old-fashioned, 18th century ambience and design, as though they were attempting to not only create a new vision of a classic story but also capture the dated aesthetic and atmosphere of the novel simultaneously, which results in a frankly bizarre amalgamation of ‘past’ and ‘future’ elements. It really is just Treasure Island in space. Evidently, that seems to be the point, but it doesn’t quite work. Rather than feeling like an inspired, modern update, it instead feels somewhat unformed and laboured.

Credit must be given, however, for the animation quality and the creative effort invested in the film’s visuals. The use of computer animation is quite substantial, and very impressive, particularly the character animation of BEN, and the space setting is beautiful, at times reminiscent of Fantasia 2000’s (1999) ‘Pines of Rome’ sequence. Character animation is excellent, yet the human characters seem to lack expression due to their having been based upon CG-rendered designs. The humanoid character designs are undeniably creative and complex, yet their surreal nature coupled with the film’s grandiose setting together make it seem rather ostentatious and superficial. Put simply, they make it seem ironically too ‘alien’ to be engaging.

The main issue is that it is too crowded a movie to impose much of an impact. While it is obvious that a great deal of effort was invested in the look and feel of the film, these visuals – which comprise the feature’s most prominent selling point – detract from the story itself, which is somewhat disappointing considering all the elements of the movie that work well. The voice acting, for example, is flawless, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt, David Hyde Pierce and Emma Thompson occupying lead roles, while James Newton Howard’s outstanding score is nothing less than epic. John Rzeznik also provides two memorable numbers which perfectly capture the unruly-yet-misunderstood character of Jim Hawkins. Melded together, these elements should work well, but it’s just too much. While hardly ‘bad’, the film’s visuals and, indeed, its overall concept remain too complex, surreal and muddled to sustain an otherwise flawless narrative. Indeed, the pacing feels natural, and the characters do at least have some chemistry. But its sci-fi twist perhaps ironically hinders the film more so than it works in its favour, despite the twist itself serving as its most original aspect and overarching premise.

As previously stated, however, this doesn’t make the film ‘bad’. Many of the sci-fi elements are very effective, such as Jim’s solar surfer and Silver’s mechanised cyborgian limbs. Ultimately, however, it’s just too overwhelming and obscure, and therefore difficult to engage with. It is by no means a slow film, and holds your attention throughout, though this is perhaps more so for its unusual visuals than for its story and characters, which are consequently conveyed as rather flat. Overall, despite its many flaws, Treasure Planet is decent (not to mention underrated) but sadly, due to its rather laboured unconventionality, this much-overlooked sci-fi flick proves notwithstanding to be somewhat less-than-stellar.

Monday, 21 July 2014

Forgotten Features: The Black Cauldron (1985)


The production of Disney’s 1981 release The Fox and the Hound marked the ‘passing of the baton’, as the original artists were replaced by an influx of a new generation of animators. Since Walt’s death in 1966, the studio’s output had become tired and stale, the aforementioned flick proving to be no exception. Consequently, Disney saw fit to try a different, darker approach, in an attempt to appeal to an older audience and showcase their true potential. The result was The Black Cauldron (1985), a surprisingly dreary departure from Disney’s typical offerings, and altogether something of a black sheep in the Disney canon.

Based on the series of novels The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, The Black Cauldron follows assistant pig-keeper Taran who, with the help of a trio of loyal misfits, must locate the Black Cauldron before the tyrannical Horned King, who intends to utilise it to resurrect an army from the dead. As the premise suggests, it is, undoubtedly, much darker than most features of the Disney canon, but that does not necessarily mean it is bad, as such. Far from it, in fact; there are certain elements that work well. For starters, the animation quality, for the most part, is sublime, particularly the sequence in which Hen Wen, the pig, is hunted down by the Horned King’s winged dragons. The film itself also manages to maintain a gloomy and, at times, sinister tone. Whether this appealed to contemporary audiences or not is inconsequential – this was clearly their intent.

Despite my having said that, however, the film is profoundly flawed. Firstly, there are numerous occurrences that make little sense and require far more explanation. Princess Eilonwy’s magic bauble, for example, is given no reason for its existence other than that it is ‘magic’, and vanishes shortly after its first appearance. The Horned King’s demise at the film’s climax is equally bewildering, as the powers of the cauldron are never fully explained. Perhaps these unclear aspects of the plot derive from it having been an adaptation of a book series and therefore too complex a narrative to condense lucidly into a feature film format. Regardless, the film feels somewhat rather underdeveloped. Another issue I had, personally, was with the voice acting, particularly Taran and Eilonwy. Taran’s voice is frankly insipid, while Eilonwy’s simply does not suit her. In addition, there are one or two scenes that do not seem to serve a purpose and, as a result, have a strange, slow and altogether rather jarring effect on the narrative. For example, following their escape from captivity, one peculiar scene depicts Taran and Eilonwy engaging in an altercation, almost as though they were intent on establishing a romance or at the very least a firm alliance between the characters, yet this is bizarrely never realised, not only rendering this entire scene devoid of purpose, but also reinforcing the film’s underwhelming conclusion.

But it’s not all bad. So, the film’s not perfect – that doesn’t mean it’s truly awful. While the film’s flaws diminish its quality and enjoyableness quite considerably, it nonetheless exhibits ‘glints of greatness’, by which I mean it clearly had potential, and could have been far better had more consideration gone into its plot. Visually, the film is very rich and its settings, though desolate and repetitive, are nonetheless detailed and enchanting. The Black Cauldron may not be one of Disney’s finest, but it is one of their most daring and unconventional, and is at least worth seeing for its atypical artwork and unsettling premise. In that respect, it’s commendable; otherwise it’s no surprise that the future of the Disney flick in the mid-80s was looking, well, black.

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

“This Means War!”: World War II and the Influence of Animation


Following on from the previous post concerning the disappearance of the animated short, it seems logical to now focus on an era in which the animated short served a particular purpose: World War II. Yes, the cartoon was responsible for creating and reinforcing the spirit of patriotism, with the likes of Disney, Warner Bros and MGM creating shorts in which propaganda and commentaries on contemporary issues were embedded. Disney also produced two ‘Good Neighbour’ features, Saludos Amigos (1943) and The Three Caballeros (1945), both of which contain sequences portraying and discovering Latin America, which served to establish and/or reinforce foreign relations.

 
Warner Bros Animation, on the other hand, was far more intense in its social and political commentary, not to mention more daring in its execution. A possible influence of their heavy inclusion of war references and overt pro-American patriotism is that, in the late 1930s, a representative of the WB German distribution office was attacked and killed by a group of Nazis. Evidently, Warner Bros had an agenda to pursue, declaring war in their own manner through the creation and distribution of film, including 1939’s Confessions of a Nazi Spy. Consequently, a great number of war-themed cartoons followed swiftly afterwards. Animation director Bob Clampett, the main director of the era, is quoted as describing Bugs Bunny, who by 1941 was only just barely established, as a “symbol of America’s resistance to Hitler and the fascist powers” (Beck, 2004: 84).

 
Indeed, this ‘symbol of resistance’ is evident in many cartoons of the war era, particularly the likes of Herr Meets Hare, a Friz Freleng cartoon from 1944 in which Bugs disguises himself as Hitler and Stalin to foil Hermann Göring. The Warner Bros shorts were fearless in this respect, often lampooning Hitler and deriving from the topicality of the period. Some of their more daring, outlandish and memorable shorts of this era include Daffy – the Commando (1943), in which Daffy Duck hits Hitler over the head with a mallet, and Russian Rhapsody (1944), in which Hitler’s plane is hijacked by the ‘Gremlins from the Kremlin’, most likely conceptually inspired by 1943’s Falling Hare, replacing Bugs Bunny with Hitler as the victim of the gremlins’ antics.

 
In addition to this array of patriotic and at times subversive attempts to raise spirits, the Warner Bros studio also proved that they had not lost their sense of humour. Certain other cartoons of the era provided escapism from the war, while others derived humour from topics such as rationing, military training camps, and drafting for military service, one of the most memorable being Draftee Daffy (1944), an energetic and bold Bob Clampett cartoon which sees Daffy Duck do all he can to evade the ‘man from the draft board’. Clampett’s edgy, aggressive style coincided with the brash and unrelentingly frenetic atmosphere of the era; cartoons were maturing, and served a much more substantial purpose than as mere, light-hearted entertainment.

 

Some cartoons were more subtle in the messages they conveyed; The Fighting 69 1/2th (1940), for example, showcases a battle between two ant colonies over a picnic, essentially representing a social commentary on the war, world conflict and its oftentimes subtle provocations. Private Snafu, a series of cartoons demonstrating what not to do in the US military, was intended for viewing only by US soldiers. Despite the individually themed episodes conveying their respective messages in a humorous way, the messages nonetheless had serious undertones. Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, Friz Freleng and Dr Seuss himself, Theodor Geisel, worked on this series.

 
Naturally, some depictions found in these cartoons are, at times, difficult to absorb without acknowledging the context of these portrayals, and the messages they were conveying. Cartoons of this era are far from child-oriented, and as a result have since been somewhat neglected by the general public. They are, however, significant historically, not only as symbols of the spirit of patriotism, but as examples of the true power and potential of animation. Proving to maintain a tone as bold, hostile and aggressive as the era in which they were conceived and distributed, they proved, in their own way, that the American spirit was not going down without a fight.