Tag Archives: Thomas Kail

On the Boat Again

Moana

by Hope Madden

Has there been a reason yet for one of Disney’s live-action remakes? Arguably, no, but some of them have been fun. Jon Favreau’s 2016 The Jungle Book used inspired casting and fun tweaks on the Disney’s 1967 animated classic to craft easily the best of the bunch.

Since then? They range from garbage (Robert Zemeckis’s 2022 abomination Pinocchio) to fine (Bill Condon’s 2017 Beauty and the Beast). Disney’s latest, Moana, falls somewhere in between.

Director Thomas Kail (Hamilton) guides the effort that sees Dwayne Johnson adding flesh to his voice role as demigod shapeshifter Maui. Catherine Laga’aia is Moana, the future leader of her Polynesian village in a long ancient time when islands were still being pulled from the ocean floor by gods.

Moana’s father warns her never to go beyond the reef, but if we know anything about young Disney heroes, we know Moana is destined to roam. Her quest: to find Moana, get him on her boat, cross the ocean, and return the heart of the sea to the goddess he stole it from a thousand years ago.

Laga’aia is in fine voice, and the story is as charming as ever. But even more than most of these remakes, Moana begs the question: why? Favreau used motion capture to bring actor and jungle character together, allowing for an experience the animated original couldn’t offer. The animals didn’t look or move like cartoons. They seemed like panthers and tigers, snakes and orangutans imbued with weirdly human personalities.

But a giant, bedazzled crab (still voiced gloriously by Jemaine Clement) just looks like a big, animated crustacean covered in glitter. Tiny coconut pirates, huge fire gods—every unusual creature Moana and Maui encounter still looks cartoon-like. If not cartoon, why cartoon shaped?

The fact that Kail works from Jared Bush, Dana Ledoux Miller, and Ron Clements’s original screenplay, varying barely an iota, doesn’t help. It’s not that Moana is bad. Were it a standalone, it would be a lovely family film. And in a way, that’s still what it is. It just isn’t necessary.

Say Yes to This

Hamilton

by George Wolf

Five years after Hamilton hit streaming, who ever could have predicted its lesson of resisting a dictator would feel even more urgent?

I know, plenty of people. Still, after all the sold out performances, the Tony awards, the historical debates and a Pulitzer, the worldwide phenomenon that is Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton finally comes to theaters.

Number one, if you’re somehow new to Hamilton, you’re going to discover what a fantastic show it is. But then the exhilarating nature of this movie is how well it translates the live theater experience to the big screen. And they are two totally different entertainment experiences, so what director Thomas Kail pulls off here is not easy.

The difference between seeing something live and feeling the energy exchange between cast and audience, as opposed to watching it on a screen where you’re removed from the human element of it, is often hard to overcome. (Remember Cats?) But Kail – who also directed the 2016 Broadway shows that were recorded for this film – has crafted a near perfect mix of spatial movement and character intimacy.

This original Broadway cast, including Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr., Phillipa Soo, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Anthony Ramos, Daveed Diggs, Jonathan Groff, Chris Jackson and even a pre-Oscar Ariana DuBose in the ensemble, is spectacular. Miranda’s sing-through soundtrack is littered with highlights from “My Shot”, “The Schuyler Sisters”, “Say No to This”, and “Helpless”, to “Satisfied”, “The Room Where It Happens”, “Burn” and King George’s delightfully mad trilogy.

The technical craftsmanship here never suffers a misstep. Kail makes sure we get close enough to see the sweat (and sometimes the spittle) on the actors’ faces, before pulling back to showcase choreography, set construction and the artful, hypnotic movement of the entire production. Jonah Moran’s editing is downright masterful, displaying a wonderful instinct for layering intimate moments and energetic flow.

And even more so today than when it first hit Disney+, the film reminds us how hard it was to birth this country. Of course Miranda took creative liberties, but time has only increased the weight of this lesson in the price of democracy, and the importance of fighting for it.

Half a decade later, Hamilton still stands as a high water mark for bringing a stage musical to the screen. It’s hard to imagine it being done any better.