Tag Archives: animated movies

Furry Feathered Friday

Swapped

by Hope Madden

Director Nathan Greno pulls from a lot of influences for his new feature, the Netflix exclusive Swapped. The vibrant colors and poetically gorgeous woodland creatures conjure Miyazaki, particularly the more serene scenes from Princess Mononoke. And the bit where the little chipmunk looking thing and the big plumy bird switch bodies, that is obviously the Disney classic Freaky Friday

Swapped is a visual feast, especially the earliest sequences when a young Pookoo (chipmunk like thing) named Ollie (voiced in youth by Camden Brooks and in adulthood by Oscar winner Michael B. Jordan) explores the waters around Pookoo Island. But Ollie’s mom and dad (Justina Machado, Cedric The Entertainer) warn him that everything off island is dangerous. Everything!

Ollie doesn’t believe them, so things, of course, go terribly wrong. Mean birds steal the seeds that keep the Pookoo alive, and Ollie has to make things right. But instead, he Freaky Fridays with one of those birds (Juno Temple), and suddenly everybody’s in a terrible state.

Swapped takes that time honored tale to share a meaningful fable on the power of empathy. Temple and Jordan both provide strong voice talent—Temple is especially on point.

Tracy Morgan is ideal as Boogle, an enormous, simple-minded fish. Honestly, Swapped offers Morgan more of an opportunity to stretch than any role he’s had in recent memory, and he nails it.

And while the story leans into familiar territory, its tale is important. Greno and his team of writers don’t complicate it beyond what youngsters will gladly follow, nor do they water down their message. The result is emotional, funny, sometimes even harrowing. And really gorgeous.

Swapped doesn’t do enough to set itself apart from other animated wonders, but what it does it does really well. It’s a powerful story beautifully animated and well told.

Serkis Circus

Animal Farm

by George Wolf

You may have questions going into the newly realized Animal Farm. And it’s a good bet you’ll have more coming out.

Who is this for exactly? What’s with these changes? Did someone think Orwell didn’t get the point across? And just…why?

For his part, director Andy Serkis has addressed some of these concerns in the weeks leading up to the film’s release. Serkis has stressed that he worked closely with Orwell’s estate, striving to update the classic tale with modern themes and a nod toward understanding “the contradictions within its author.”

That is an ambitious goal, to say the least, and one that Serkis, screenwriter Nicholas Stoller and a star-studded voice cast can’t completely bring to market.

The first major adjustment is adding the character of Lucky (voiced by Gatan Matarazzo), a young pig that serves as a moral compass for younger viewers. Lucky is easily influenced by boss hog Napoleon (Seth Rogen) as the farm rules of equality and fairness are twisted and broken.

Lucky is key to Napoleon’s plan of exploitation, and to making hard working animals like Boxer (Woody Harrelson) believe Napoleon has their best interests at heart. So why is he cozying up to the cyber truck driving tycoon Frieda Pilkington (Glenn Close) and Mr. Whymper the banker (Steve Buscemi)?

Well, some animals are more equal than others. That’s always been the rule!

The fart jokes and obvious humor are a bit jarring for such cherished material, but make it clear Serkis is aiming to give younger audiences a primer in Orwell’s belief that absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s best to keep that in mind when the movie delivers a new, hope-filled ending that’s a few pastures away from Orwell’s bleak reveal.

To adults who revere that original cautionary tale, much of this overhaul may feel like a blasphemous Chicken Run rebellion. These animals have to decide for themselves that they’ve been hoodwinked, don’t they? So isn’t Lucky’s hand-holding a bit contradictory? And as well meaning as this might be, why risk diluting the power of Orwell that will come when the kids are old enough to grasp it?

After a series of examples both pro and anti-capitalism, the end credits montage cements the message that the enemies are the absolutely corrupt of any ilk. And history has shown they can be overcome.

Some of it works, yes. But honestly, it’s just impossible to come at it with the fresh eyes and clear heads of the ones it appears to be meant for. Do I respect what this Serkis circus is trying to do? Yes.

Do I wish he did it with an original story not named Animal Farm?

Also yes.

Leave It to Beaver

Hoppers

by Hope Madden

Funny, relevant, overstuffed and a little too busy, Pixar’s latest, Hoppers, throws a lot at you.

Mabel (Piper Curda) has always been a handful. In the film’s opening act, after she gets caught trying to break every elementary school classroom animal out of captivity, her frustrated mother drops her off with her grandmother. Grandma Tanaka (Karen Huie) introduces Mabel to the calming effect of nature. As they age together, the two sit on a rock by the glade behind Granny’s, learning to be silent and feel a part of something bigger.

Then the mayor, Jerry (Jon Hamm), decides to bulldoze the glade to extend the city’s beltway, shortening commutes by 4 minutes! Through a series of events both clever and complicated, Mabel hijacks a research experiment, avatars her way into the robotic body of a beaver, infiltrates the local wildlife community, learns more than any human has ever learned about their hierarchy, and just about gets Jerry squished.

Hamm is perfect as Mabel’s foil, but the entire cast is excellent. From smaller supporting turns (Meryl Streep, Vanessa Bayer, and Isiah Whitlock, Jr. in one of his final roles) to larger roles (Bobby Moynihan, Dave Franco, Kathy Najimy), each voice brings life and wit to Pixar’s characteristically enthralling animation.

Co-writer/director Daniel Chong’s script, co-written with Jesse Andrews (Elio, Luca, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl), is warm, forgiving and quite funny. Pixar has a knack with movies about a world unknown, even forbidden, to humans. Hoppers plays with that idea, and the thrill of being part of the animal world offers contagious joy.

It’s also an honestly emotional film, and Curda makes an excellent anchor for that emotion.

The film’s one big drawback is that it simply tries to do too much. At an hour and 45 minutes, it feels slightly longer than necessary, but more than anything, it is very complicated. Had Chong pruned some of the human world complexities, favoring instead the merry time spent in the surprising world of the animals, his film might find broader appeal. As is, it will delight older children and adults, although the littlest viewers may struggle to keep up.

Exit Light, Enter Night

In Your Dreams

by Hope Madden

The delightfully juvenile humor that propels much of the new Dreamworks animated film In Your Dreams entertains. It also amplifies the tension between tween big sister Stevie (Jolie Hoant-Rappaport) and little brother, Elliot (Elias Janssen).

If the perfectionist eldest sibling is going to somehow get her parents to stay together, the last thing she needs is Elliot and his foul-smelling stuffed animal Baloney Tony (Craig Robinson) getting in the way.

But naturally, when Stevie makes a wish to find Sandman and make her dream of a happy family come true, somehow Elliot gets himself involved. Now Stevie can’t make her way through dreamland to find the Sandman without her pesky little brother.

In that way, In Your Dreams is sort of the Predator: Badlands of the grade school set.

Though the computer-generated animation is sometimes disappointing, the movie’s chaotic energy and humor while our heroes work toward finding the Sandman—plus a fun, splashy bit of hand drawn animation— are a blast. It’s during these dream montages that co-writers/directors Erik Benson and Alexander Woo (who write with Stanely Moore) are most inspired. It’s also where we get to spend the most time with Baloney Tony, easily the film’s funniest character.

As dreams of life among happily animated breakfast foods turn rancid under the influence of Nightmara (Gia Carides), In Your Dreams runs through a fun, funny, and often insightful set of dream sequences set to appropriate and fun needle drops.

The film’s themes are compelling and often insightfully rendered, and the storyline itself bears originality sometimes lost in family films. But once we finally reach the Sandman, the look, feel, humor and imagination seem to disappear. We build and build to Sandman, but he and his castle are bland and forgettable.

In Your Dreams never fully recovers, most of Act 3 feeling like a quick and easy escape route from the otherwise clever conceits in the plot. There are definitely laughs and fun sequences, but you may forget this one as quickly as last night’s dream.

If I Cannot Inspire Love, I Will Cause Fear

Stitch Head

by Hope Madden

Is there anything more delightful than an animated tale suitable for Halloween? A Nightmare Before Christmas, ParaNorman, Frankenweenie, The Corpse Bride, Wendell & Wild, Coraline, Mad Monster Party­—each one is a fun way to get spooky, with the kids or without.

Steve Hudson extends that list with Stitch Head, a delightful, animated story about embracing your inner and outer monster.

Stitch Head (Asa Butterfield) was the first of the Mad Scientist’s creations. But the creator’s ADHD gets the better of him pretty quickly, and Castle Grotteskew is soon full to brimming with monsters. These include today’s beast, Creature (Joel Fry). Stitch Head’s taken on the eldest child duties around the castle, which includes helping each new beastie adjust their monstrous natures to avoid upsetting the townsfolk below. Don’t draw attention to yourself and you can avoid the angry mob.

“Welcome to almost life,” Stitch Head tells each new monster. “Patent pending.”

The film, especially Nick Urata’s music, certainly conjures Tim Burton. The songs Are You Ready for Monsters and Make ‘em Scream are both dancy fun, but neither are Elfman level memorable. Stitch Head lacks that macabre flavor of a Burton. Castle Grotteskew’s residents feel more akin to the working stiffs of Monsters, Inc. They’re nothing to be afraid of, they’re just different. Which is the point.

There’s also a bit of Pinocchio as Stitch Head, seeking the love he’s not receiving from his negligent parent, leaves the castle in favor of the circus, and finds—as we all must—that capitalism blows.

Butterfield’s delivery and Hudson’s animation create a tender central figure you root for. Fry’s big-hearted performance—plus Creature’s zany design—balance the delicate, tightly wound Stitch Head to create a sweetly peculiar odd couple.

Based on Pete Williamson and Guy Bass’s series of kids’ books, written for the screen by Hudson, Stitch Head delivers fun, eccentric characters, a warm adventure, and genuine lessons about the joys—even the necessity—of nonconformity.

“Just be whoever you’d be if you weren’t afraid.”

Boldly Gone

Elio

by Hope Madden

Few films, animated or otherwise, breathe the rarified air of Pixar’s best. The animation giant has turned out an alarming number of outright masterpieces: Toy Story, WALL-E, Up!, Toy Story 3, Inside Out. Their second tier is better than nearly every other animated film you’ll come across. The originality, humanity, and visual magic on display in these films is so superior to anything else out there, it becomes an almost impossible standard to bear.

Pixar’s latest effort, Elio, tells the sweet story of a lonesome orphan who wants desperately to believe that “we are not alone.” Elio inadvertently casts himself as leader of earth and invites aliens to abduct him. They accept.

Elio’s writing team includes Julia Cho, who penned the charming Turning Red, and Mike Jones, whose Soul rightfully took 2021’s Oscar for Best Animated Feature. The directing team includes Turning Red’s Domee Shi and Coco’s Adrian Molina. That’s a solid team, one fully aware of the wondrous possibilities of animation and family friendly storytelling.

And they do tell a lovely story. As Elio (Yonas Kibreab) finally finds a friend in galactic warlord Grigon’s (Brad Garrett) son Glordon (Remy Edgerly), he also realizes that he might have liked his Auntie (Zoe Saldaña) more than he thought.

Once Elio is space bound, the film brightens. The inhabitants of the Communiverse are delightfully oddball. There’s brightly colored fun to be had. But Act I doesn’t dig deep enough into Elio’s relationship with his auntie to give the film real stakes, so the emotional center that creates the Pixar gravitational pull is never as strong as it is in their best efforts.

The story beats also lack the freshness of the best Pixar has to offer. Still, a first-contact film that retails a childlike wonder about what lies beyond the stars without resenting what waits at home is a rare thing.

Hunting Season

Predator: Killer of Killers

by Hope Madden

In 2022, director Dan Trachtenberg reinvigorated the Predator franchise by taking the story back in time and investing in character. Prey (especially the Comanche language dub) unveiled thrilling new directions for the hunt to take—directions Trachtenberg picks up with three short, animated installments in Hulu’s Predator: Killer of Killers.

The anthology moves between three different earth-bound time periods: Viking conquest, feudal Japan, and WWII. Each short is focused on an individual warrior—one whose cunning and skill draws the attention of a predator on the hunt.

While the overall animation style can be tiresome, there are sequences that impress, even wow. This is not a kids’ cartoon. There’s carnage aplenty, and when it’s at Ursa’s (Lindsay LaVanchy) hands, it’s nasty business gloriously rendered.

The first and best installment, that of Ursa the Viking, packs the screen with visceral action and memorable characters. It also hits on themes of family, loyalty and vengeance that Trachtenberg and co-writer Micho Robert Rutare return to in the second installment. Here, Samurai brothers do battle with the beast, before an alien invader sets his sits on a cunning young mechanic turned fighter pilot in WWII.

Each story boasts a quick, engaging, violent narrative that adds a bit of fun to the canon. The wrap up, which enshrines these individual tales into a larger mythology, feels cynical and uninspired by comparison.

Credit Trachtenberg, along with co-director Joshua Wassung, for continuing to push the IP in new directions. But the Predator series has long understood its flexibility and shown a willingness to experiment. Some of these experiments (Prey) have worked better than others (Alien vs. Predator: Requiem). But most of the efforts have been, at the very least, entertaining.

Predator: Killer of Killers likewise entertains. And it fills the gap between 2022’s top tier Predator effort and Trachtenberg’s next adventure in the series, due out later this year.

Stinking, Thinking and Saving Lives

The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie

by Hope Madden

I am not what you would call a Looney Tunes fan. Writer/director Peter Browngardt and co-writers Kevin Costello and Alex Kirwan (along with a writing team of at least a dozen) clearly are. Their animated feature The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie delivers looney adventures that are hard to deny.

Essentially an odd couple buddy picture, the film follows Porky Pig and Daffy Duck as their live progress from youngsters with their beloved Farmer Jim, to adults with a problem. On the one hand, the problem is the hole that alien space pod left in their roof.

On the other hand: ALIEN SPACE POD?!!!

Though a bizarre tone and a wild variety of animation styles entertains, the film’s a tad slow moving at first. But once the bubblegum monster shows up, things get pretty fun.

Eric Bauza voices both Daffy and Porky without losing any of the character that made the two popular in the early going. Daffy, that chaos agent, is delivered with the love and lunacy necessary not only to do justice to his long history of animated disruption, but to serve a real narrative purpose. Because Porky, upon meeting the weird but efficient Petunia Pig (Candi Milo), begins to crave the kind of life you can have without a buddy who uses an oversized mallet to solve problems.

Browngardt makes sure you’re emotionally conflicted. That’s pretty impressive, really.

But mainly, he and his animation team make sure you’re entertained with clever sight gags, surprising humor, fascinating animation, and a fun B-movie vibe.

It gets weird, this one. But when the chips are down and the gum zombies are chewin’, these two will rise to the occasion.

And Hustle

Flow

by Hope Madden

Have you felt recently like the world as you know it has changed irreparably, everything around you is dangerous chaos, and those who were once family are no longer reliable so you have to kind of cobble together a new tribe or go it alone?

Cat knows your pain.

Gints Zilbalodis’s stunning animated film Flow follows the solitary feline through a lush world where it does what it can to remain aloof and alone—fleeing other creatures, particularly those rambunctious dogs, to find its quiet spot in the top floor of an empty home. The time period is unspecific but ancient, the attention to detail magnificent, and the animation breathtaking.

A flood is coming, and this little black cat will have to work in tandem with a handful of other strays—one capybara, a lemur, a secretarybird, and a dog—in an abandoned boat to survive the rising tide.

There’s no dialog and precious little anthropomorphism to be found. That may sound like it could keep an audience at arm’s length, but quite the opposite results. The surprisingly natural, primal behavior of the animals, particularly in peril, gives Flow an anguished kind of thrill that is gripping.

The animals have personalities in keeping with their species (the capybara can’t be bullied or bothered; the lemur collects and covets shiny things; the dog is big, dumb and friendly) and Zilbalodis gives over to magical realism sparingly.

The animals’ surroundings, even in moments of catastrophe, are rendered with such care and beauty they almost conjure Miyazaki. Almost. That Zilbalodis crafted such gorgeously animated scenes entirely with an open-source platform to keep budget in check is indie genius that would be only a gimmick were his storytelling instincts less stellar.

The dog doesn’t look great. I have no idea why that is, but it can pull you out of certain scenes.

Otherwise, there’s not much opportunity to slight this animated Latvian treasure sure to scoop up awards nominations this season. Catch it on the big screen while you can.

Metal Mama

The Wild Robot

by Hope Madden

With wry, almost gallows humor, visual panache and an impressive voice cast, co-writer/director Chris (How to Train Your Dragon, Lilo & Stitch) Sanders’s The Wild Robot nails the aching beauty of parenthood like few other films have.

Adapted from Peter Brown’s gorgeously illustrated middle grades novel, the film drops us and ROZZUM unit 7134 on an island uninhabited by humans. This makes it tough for “Roz” (Lupita Nyong’o) to fulfill her mission of completing a task, any task. But then an undersized gosling (Kit Connor) imprints on her, allowing Sanders to have some fun with the unending complications associated with Roz’s new task: parenting.

The writing and the delicately lovely animation work together to hypnotic effect, each unveiling something more human with every scene, regardless of the fact that there’s nary a human in the movie. Sanders’s script reflects the human experience, both the timeless (the thankless heartbreak of investing your whole heart and soul into the process of successfully losing your child to their own future) and the immediate (AI, corporate greed, tech overlords).

A talented cast deepens the film’s effect. Nyong’o effortlessly treads the line between logic and longing with so graceful a character arc that you can feel Roz blossoming. Pedro Pascal joins her as Fink, the fox who hates to admit that he wants to be part of this little family unit more than anything.

Catherine O’Hara—always a treasure—delivers dry wisdom in hilarious doses. Meanwhile, Ving Rhames, Mark Hamill, Matt Berry and Bill Nighy bring endearing personalities to their furry and feathered characters, while Stephanie Hsu injects Act 3 with a little wicked humor.

The film’s delight is only deepened by its sadness, and you may find yourself bawling repeatedly during this film. I know I did.

Sanders’s career is marked with the vulnerable optimism that defines an outsider’s longing for connection. In his worlds, a parent and their sort-of child—Lilo and Stitch, Hiccup and Toothless, Roz and Brightbill—flail and flounder until they find the strength of an extended family.

It’s a story he’s apparently not done telling. But he tells it so very well.