Chicken With Plums

In Chicken With Plums (2011), Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Parronaud attempt to render the unique aesthetic of Persepolis (2007) into live action. They've certainly crafted an aesthetic feast that's imaginatively shot. Too bad the overall experience underwhelms.

In 1958, Iranian violinist Nassir (Mathieu Amalric) commits suicide. Nassir grew despondent after his long-suffering wife Faranguisse (Marie de Madeiros) destroyed his prized violin. Flashbacks of the lead-in to Nassir's death reveal why: the violin was connected with Irane (Golshifteh Farahani), Nassir's lost love. Unable to marry Irane, Nassir entered into an unhappy marriage, channeling his passion into music. Without music - or Irane - in his life, things no longer seem worthwhile.

Chicken With Plums wins praise for its ravishing visuals. Satrapi, Parronaud and cinematographer Christophe Beaucalme craft a fantasy aesthetic resembling Powell and Pressburger or, more appropriately, Jean-Pierre Jeunet. The movie's dreamlike cadence registers in verdantly colored skies, moody deep focus and double exposure. Certainly the movie doesn't lack for powerful visuals, as when Nassir sends off his mother's (Isabella Rosselini) departing soul with a violin solo. There's even a brief animated interlude explicitly recalling the directors' earlier collaboration.

Yet Chicken never really comes together. Satrapi and Parronaud conceive the story an episodic thought piece, counting down Nassir's last week on Earth. But the execution is terribly clunky. The film flits aimlessly between past and future, tone and style veering sharply from moment to moment. Filmmakers, of course, can get away with self-contained episodes in lieu of plot. But Satrapi handles it so poorly that the artifice shows; it's a collection of scenes, not a movie.

It doesn't help that Chicken feels forced. The visuals are clever but the movie slides uneasily between realistic drama and fantasy. The cutesy tone becomes unbearable at times, especially the scenes with Nassir's children or, especially, a prolonged parody of American sitcoms. Nassir and Irane's romance registers strongly, but introduced so late it throws things off-balance. Lacking what made Persepolis so effective - skillful balance of whimsy and pathos, insightful characterization - it becomes incoherent and emotionally barren.

Mathieu Amalric (Munich) makes Nassir a compelling protagonist, tormented and hanging on to shattered dreams. Golshifteh Farahani mainly looks pretty and pouty, but Maria de Madeiros (Pulp Fiction) does remarkable work showing Faranguisse's deep-seeded frustration. Eduoard Baer and Jamel Debbouze play their scenes as crude pantomime.

Chicken With Plums ultimately disappoints. For all its visual appeal, it resembles nothing so much as a poor man's Amelie, overselling self-aware silliness at the expense of genuine charm.

A Rankin/Bass Christmas

With Christmas two days away it's time for a holiday treat! We'll examine the much beloved Rankin/Bass specials. Their shows run constantly around the holiday season; in our house, Rudolph and the Frosty shorts are must-see TV.  Most of them are charming, a few great.

This article looks at four R/B specials and a fifth related short. Obviously this isn't a comprehensive list. Perhaps we can revisit The Little Drummer Boy and Jack Frost for next year.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer remains, along with A Charlie Brown Christmas, the gold standard for holiday specials. Exquisitely animated and effortlessly charming, it makes even the most cynical 50 year old feel like a kid.

Rudolph (Billie Mae Richards) is a young reindeer with a glowing red nose. Rudolph tries out for the reindeer games, an audition for Santa Claus's (Stan Francis) sleigh team, but is ridiculed once his nose is revealed. He falls for Clarice (Janis Orenstein), a young doe who's more sympathetic. Outcast Rudolph runs away with Hermey (Paul Soles), a elf who'd rather be a dentist than make toys. They pass through the Island of Misfit toys, befriend prospector Yukon Cornelius (Larry D. Mann) and fight off the Abominable Snowman. Rudolph returns home, just as a snowstorm threatens Santa's delivery plans.

Rudolph is near-perfect family entertainment. Unlike other R/B works, it has a solid plot to complement its technical charms, allowing for movement and settings (the snowy North Pole, barren tundra. dreamlike Island of Misfit Toys). There's a bushel of amusing characters, from the perky Hermy to the grizzled Yukon and his cranky 'Bomble. Rudolph is an immensely likeable protagonist, all naivety and gumption. His scenes with sweetheart Clarice are too cute for words, though his little nose lighting up is sufficient to win us over. The show's be-yourself message is simple, direct and endearing.

Rudolph's Animagic remains the highlight. This stop motion technique uses wooden/plastic dolls with felt trimming, giving the film an enjoyably original (though oft-parodied) look. Rudolph and his pals look like Christmas ornaments to come life, invested with spirit and charm. Johnny Marks's excellent soundtrack, sung by Burl Ives, spawned several Christmas standards, including Have a Holly Jolly Christmas and Silver and Gold. For Christmas fun and holiday cheer Rudolph can't be topped.
Frosty the Snowman (1969)

Our next short sees Rankin/Bass turning to traditional cel animation. Frosty the Snowman is thinner than Rudolph but retains the same spirit of straightforward fun.

Schoolgirl Karen (June Foray) constructs Frosty the Snowman (Jackie Vernon) who comes to life when adorned with Professor Hinkle's (Billy De Wolfe) magic hat. Hinkle wants the hat back, and chases Karen and Frosty to the North Pole. Santa Claus (Paul Frees) inevitably intervenes, saving the day and shaming Professor Hinkle.

Frosty the Snowman is less impressive than Rudolph. The plot is weak even for a 22 minute short (with a silly resolution that renders the story pointless) and the hand-drawn animation not especially striking. But Frosty redeems with its loveable characters. Frosty makes a fun protagonist, mixing dopey naivety with affection for Karen, matched by Professor Hinkle's frantic villainy ("Busy, busy, busy!"). Jimmy Durante's idiosyncratic narration adds a unique touch, as when he proclaims Frosty "the best belly-whopper in the world!" It's a simple short of simple charms, fine holiday entertainment.


Santa Claus is Comin' to Town (1970)

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town is less successful. It's a mostly forgettable show, with its '60s mentality providing perverse amusement. The last thing a holiday special should attempt is being "hip," a lesson Rankin/Bass fail to appreciate.

S.D. Kluger (Fred Astaire) narrates Santa Claus's origin story. He started life as Kris Kringle (Mickey Rooney), a friendly orphan who wishes to be a toymaker. Unfortunately, Kris faces the evil White Wizard (Keenan Wynn) and the more mundane threats of Burgermeister Meisterburger (Paul Frees), a fun-hating village official. Kris enlists the help of some woodland friends along with Miss Jessica (Robie Lester), a teacher who falls for Kris. Together they set up a workshop at the North Pole, and the rest is history.

Viewed with 40 years' distance, Santa Claus plays as painfully obvious counterculture pandering. The show recasts Santa as an anti-establishment rebel, a Robin Hood-type criminal providing illicit gifts to children everywhere. This extends to Mrs. Claus, who transforms from stuffy school marm to long-haired hippie, and the groovy Peter Max-style animation accompanying several musical numbers. The idea, presumably, being that the kids wanted a "with-it" cartoon between Mobe rallies and The Brady Bunch.

Santa Claus has its charms. The animation is predictably top-notch, while Paul Frees and Keenan Wynn provide memorable villain turns. But the story proves uneventful, the leads boring and the songs uncharacteristically flat. This makes it harder to overlook its time capsule qualities. If Rudolph and Frosty are timeless, Santa is painfully dated.

The Year Without a Santa Claus (1974)

This oddity might be best-remembered for its association with Batman and Robin: at one point in Joel Schumacher's Bat-astrophe, Mr. Freeze forces his henchmen to sing along with the Snow Miser. This dubious recognition aside, Year Without a Santa Claus is an enjoyable mixed bag: its bloated story lacks the simple charm of earlier shorts, but makes up for it with inventive characters.

Santa Claus (Mickey Rooney again) becomes ill, forcing Mrs. Claus (Shirley Booth) to find a present-delivering altnerative or else cancel Christmas. Elves Jingle (Bob McFadden) and Jangle (Bradley Bolke) run away to gauge Earthly reaction, shocked to find kids don't believe in Santa. Mrs. Claus, the elves and Earth kid Iggy (Colin Duffy) get caught in needlessly complicated negotiations, trying to convince a) the town Mayor to let Santa's reindeer go; b) the feuding elementals Snow Miser (Dick Shawn) and Heat Miser (George S. Irving) to allow for snow in the Mayor's town; c) Mother Nature (Rhoda Mann) to knock some sense into the lot of them. Does that make sense?

The Year Without a Santa Claus makes a silly story very complex. Santa ends up a bit player with his wife and dopey sidekicks doing all the work. The movie feels like an animated Cold War allegory, with Mrs. Claus performing shuttle diplomacy between the Misers, earthly officials and Mother Nature Henry Kissinger-style. (Does this make Santa Richard Nixon?) If Frosty's plot was too simple, Year becomes convoluted, bogging down in negotiations and relying on set pieces to keep things fresh.

The Animagic provides Year's highpoint. The Misers are wonderfully designed as elemental demons, dripping icicles and fiery hair, with snappy personalities to match. The songs are uneven: while Mrs. Claus's songs are forgettable, the Miser cues provide a snappy theme with standards Blue Christmas and Here Comes Santa Claus picking up some slack. This makes Year fun for all its rough spots.

Frosty Returns (1995)

Our last item isn't official Rankin/Bass, rather an unloved (and unlovable) stepchild. In 1995 CBS roped Peanuts animator Bill Melendez into directing Frosty Returns, a joyless sequel that drags a classic character through the slush.

The small town of Beansboro prepares for its winter festival, but tycoon Mr. Twitchell (Brian Doyle-Murray) plans on ruining the fun with Summer Wheeze. This spray-on snow evaporator angers young Holly (Elisabeth Moss) and her nerdy friend Charles (Michael Patrick Carter). Holly enlists the help of Frosty (John Goodman), no longer endearingly naive but a punchable wiseacre. Together girl and snowman set out to foil the evil Twitchell, singing horribly along the way.

Frosty Returns is irredeemably awful. In this special, holiday cheer proves secondary to environmental preaching and cornball humor. Even with voices by John Goodman, Brian Doyle-Murray and Elisabeth Moss the characters are charmless; Goodman's smartass Frosty begs for a flamethrower to his snow-nads. Returns gets one laugh, when Twitchell drops a squawking environmentalist through a trapdoor. The five seconds of thought put into that gag clearly exhausted the crew's creativity.

Then there's the music. Never mind Mark Mothersbaugh's weird score, which sounds like recycled Rugrats cues. "Let There Be Snow" must be the worst song ever. It's obnoxiously atonal, relying on drawn out stanzas and painfully labored rhymes to deliver a treacly message about "the world dressed in white." And it's sung three times in this 20 minute short, surely the musical equivalent of waterboarding. This auditory excretion elevates Frosty Returns from regrettable cash-in to agonizing atrocity.

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Hopefully you've enjoyed this sardonic sojourn into Christmas cartoons. Stay tuned for more holiday cheer!

The Adventures of Tintin

Again I claim ignorance of a very popular literary property: Belgian artist Herge's Tintin comics have found loving audiences for over 80 years, yet I only know them by reputation. Please take this into account for my review of The Adventures of Tintin. In his animated feature debut, Steven Spielberg presents an entertaining, if disposable, motion capture adaptation.

Intrepid reporter Tintin (voice of Jamie Bell) and his fox terrier Snowy buy a model of the sailing ship Unicorn at a market, little realizing this will launch them on an epic caper. Sinister Ivan Sakhrain (Daniel Craig) demands the model, which Tintin soon discovers contains a clue to a hidden treasure. Tintin and Snowy are kidnapped by Sakhrain, and team up with the drunken Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis), whose whiskey-soaked memory holds the key to the Unicorn mystery. Their adventure takes them across the sea to Morocco, where another model of the Unicorn lay in wait.

Tintin starts a bit awkwardly, launching its story with perhaps undue haste. But it quickly gains its own momentum, engrossing its audience in a unique universe. Several reviewers have compared Tintin to Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the go-for-broke action scenes certainly rival Indy's exploits. The frenetic chase through a Moroccan bazaar, ludicrously building in true Spielberg fashion, is the best action scene I've seen in quite some time, though the lengthy pirate flashback is probably the film's highlight. The characters remain ciphers and the plot is super-thin, but these are technicalities in a story like this.

The decision to use motion capture irked many Tintin fans, who feel it doesn't (or couldn't) capture Herge's distinct visual style. This uninitiated reviewer thought it worked just fine: the characters look almost real, but are still able to engage in cartoon antics without live action constraints. Spielberg keeps the comic book origins intact with its oddball characters, vivid rendering of exotic locales, and even "deep focus" shots with action-heavy backgrounds. Viewers looking for escapsim won't have any qualms.

Jamie Bell is a very likeable Tintin, but Andy Serkis's drunken, lovably boisterous Captain Haddock is the real show-stealer. Well-known voices like Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Toby Jones and Cary Elwes populate supporting roles.

I can't rate The Adventures of Tintin as an adaptiation of Herge, but I will recommend it as breezy escapism. No masterpiece, its modest charms make for enjoyable viewing.

Toy Story 3

If, like me, you grew up watching and loving the Toy Story films, you will probably enjoy the third and final installment of Pixar's trilogy. However, Toy Story 3 is surprisingly full of sadness and sentimentality, which makes it a difficult film to judge.

Andy (John Morris) is going off to college, and his old toys are afraid for their future. Andy decides to send most of his toys to the attic, while taking Woody (Tom Hanks) with him. However, a misunderstanding leads to the toys being donated to a day care center. The toys are initially happy, but they find themselves badly treated by rampaging toddlers - and ruled over by the tyrannical teddy bear Lotso (Ned Beatty), whose thugs reprogram Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) to serve them. Woody arrives to try and save his old friends, remaining loyal to Andy through all adversity.

Personal feelings aside (having watched the first two films a million times as a kid, and played Buzz Lightyear in an elementary school play), the original Toy Story was groundbreaking. CGI was already being used in live action movies, and films like The Lion King employed it in a supporting role, but the idea of a completely computer-generated movie seemed ridiculous. However, Pixar's combination of simple but endearing story and wonderfully creative animation was a huge winner, providing a whimsical, original film like nothing ever seen. I don't much like that computer-generated films have almost completely driven out hand-drawn animation, but it's hard not to give Toy Story its due: for better or worse, it completely revolutionized animation.

Toy Story 3 gets a lot of mileage out of the audience's good will. It's nice to see our old friends again, ten years after their latest adventure. The movie drives home the nostalgia theme: Andy has grown up, things have changed, and even the characters have developed: Buzz and cowgirl Jessie (Joan Cusack) have a thing for each other, many other characters have been thrown away. The movie does have its share of creative sequences, particularly Buzz's transformation into "Spanish mode" and a Barbie (Jodi Benson) and Ken (Michael Keaton) subplot, which make it worthwhile. And the poignant, bittersweet finale would have been a perfect note for the series to end on, if it weren't for the interminable credits sequence.

However, Toy Story 3 doesn't measure up to its predecessors. It plays the sentimentality and recognition card a bit too heavily: I can imagine a neophyte at loss for an entry point. To its credit, the film manages a semi-original plot, but it ultimately seems almost incidental to the movie's overall content. The schizophrenic tone is off-putting, too. It's a surprisngly dreary and heavy film without the courage of its convictions: it can't settle for being just a kid's movie, but doesn't have the guts to go the other direction either. And as mentioned before, the "happy ending" during the credits is overlong and worthless, undermining much of what came before.

If you enjoyed the first two Toy Story films, and have some degree of empathy for Woody, Buzz and Co., then by all means go see Toy Story 3. However, for others it may prove a middling, overly-sentimental effort that doesn't match up to Pixar's best work (Finding Nemo, Wall-E). To each their own, however.

Persepolis

Having recently fallen in love with Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis books, it was only natural that I should check out the Oscar-nominated film adaptation. Fortunately, Persepolis (2007) keeps Satrapi's work intact: her autobiographical tale of a child's life in Revolutionary Iran, and adolescence abroad, rings true through a perfect mixture of humor, pathos and personal tragedy.

Iran, 1979. Marjane "Marji" Satrapi (Gabrielle Lopes, Chiara Mastroianni) is a precocious child wrapped up in fantasy and materialism. Her parents (Catherine Denevue and Simon Abkarian) protest the Shah's regime, which collapses after the Shah flees. However, Marjane and her family find the Ayatollah Khomeini's new Islamic regime even worse, with alcohol outlawed, women forced to don veils, and a destructive war with Iraq making life unbearable. Teenaged Marjane is sent to live in Vienna, where she flits around the edges of counter-culture, struggles with romance and education, is stereotyped as a terrorist, and ends up homeless and destitute. She comes home to Iran, only to find herself a stranger even in her home country.

Persepolis is an excellent mixture of honesty and humanism, conveyed through its beautifully-realized protagonist. Satrapi is wonderfully forthcoming about herself: she presents episodes where, as a child, she leads an attack on the son of a policeman. Later, she condemns an innocent man to prison so she won't miss a date. Often narcissistic and self-destructive, Marji is no intellectual rebel or quirky heroine with all the answers, just an ordinary adolescent into music, boys and blue jeans, her faults and confusion magnified by the situation. Even transforming herself into a "modern woman" is a limited success: Iran remains repressive, and Marji is stuck in a rotten marriage which enhances her predicament.

We know, of course, that Satrapi went on to be a successful cartoonist and author, but Marji at age 18, penniless in the Vienna streets, would have no way of knowing it. Despite the depressing nature of the material, and its sad conclusion, Persepolis pulsates with joy and life-affirming happiness, with Satrapi's caustic wit and shrewd observations providing plenty of humor. The story's real-life conclusion provides an extra-textual delight.

The movie skims over the story's historical and political background, but this is forgivable. Background about Iran's history and the Shah's rise are presented in amusing vignettes, exactly how a child would digest a difficult history lesson. As in so many revolutions, the ideal revolution is subverted with something far worse: while the Shah arrests and tortures dissidents, the Ayatollah executes them. And for Iranians (and women especially), life becomes unbearable. Satrapi, who lost friends and relatives to both regimes, cannot be called objective, but Persepolis has the ring of truth throughout. Specific incidents and anecdotes are presented with vivid clarity: being harrassed by cops for "indecency," the underground parties and blackmarket music tapes, the disfigurement and death of friends in the war.

Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud keep the comic's visual style intact: the simple, stark black-and-white visual style perfectly enhances the feeling of loss and nostalgia. Despite the story's episodic nature, it has a fast and urgent pace, flowing perfectly. The animation enhances the material with creative uses of montage, perfectly portraying the difficult backstory, and specific sequences - particularly Marji's descent into depression - are made extremely powerful. The voice work is uniformly excellent.

Some minor omissions aside, Persepolis is a fabulous, near-perfect adaptation of the graphic novel, and one of its decade's best animated films.

PS: Happy Father's Day!

The Tooth Hurts

While I very much enjoyed my viewing of The Princess and the Frog yesterday, having to sit through the trailers that proceeded it was complete and utter torture.

Here's what I saw previews of:

- Cats and Dogs 2. Fucking Cats and Dogs 2!!! Does anyone even remember the first one? If not, that's because it was fucking awful. I guess the reason they waited ten years for a sequel is so that they have a whole new generation of children to terrorize without latent memories of the old one.

- The Spy Next Door, an ingenious-looking Disney comedy with the brilliant cast of Jackie Chan, Billy Ray Cyrus AND George Lopez! Also featuring a little girl beating up bad guys and saying "funny" lines, everyone's favorite! No way this movie could suck, right?

- Despicable Me, something animated with Steve Carrel as a goofball supervillain which looks completely and utterly meh.

- How to Train Your Dragon, a crap-looking animated thing with Frankie Muniz as a Viking fighting dragons. Paltry animation, another variant on the zero-to-hero plot I so often rail about, dragons, and Frankie Muniz - what's not to like?

- The Last Song, a weepy teen drama by the author of The Notebook (gag!) with Miley Cyrus (projectile vomit!), a hot beach dude tracing her body with sea shells, her dorky daddy and smartass brother, about finding out the truth about love etc. etc. And every single line and shot in the trailer came straight out of the Screenwriter's Cliche Handbook. The worst part is that this movie seemed to be the best of the lot.

And then after the movie, when I'm feeling good about life after finishing finals and watching a really good movie, I came across this in the theater outside:



At that point I went insane.

I'm not advancing any claims that such movies are any worse than crap like The Love Bug or Casper or The Little Rascals, but all the same, I feel really sorry for the kids who have to watch this junk - and even moreso, their parents. Parents, please ignore this shit and go see a good movie. Take advantage of Princess and the Frog while it lasts, or at least wait until the next Pixar film. Or stay at home and replay that well-worn VHS of The Lion King for the 900th time. If you take your kids to see Tooth Fairy, you are an abusive parent.

Quite frankly, I felt like I'd stumbled into an episode of The Critic and was watching a parade of hilarious thirty-second movie parodies. But these are real. And God help us all.

The Princess and the Frog

Disney's much-ballyhooed return to 2D animation is a real treat. The Princess and the Frog is very old-fashioned and riddled with cliche, but it's such a fun ride and beautiful spectacle that most viewers won't really care. It isn't a classic on a par with Fantasia or The Lion King, but it is a solid piece of work from an animation company whose last attempts at hand-drawn animation (Treasure Planet, Home on the Range) were dismal failures. Hopefully, this movie will be the start of a trend, and we'll have more of these films and less of the increasingly-sterile all-CGI efforts.

Set in Jazz-age New Orleans, the film follows Tiana (Anika Noni Rose), a black girl whose father (Terrence Howard) dreams of opening a restaurant. After her father is killed in World War I, Tiana tries to live out his dream, working two jobs as a waitress to save money - only to be blocked by her unscrupulous, disbelieving land agents. This coincides with the visit of Prince Naveen (Bruno Campos), a handsome but dissolute playboy who has spent all of his money on parties and girls - and takes an odd deal from voodoo master Dr. Facilier (Keith David), who transforms him into the titular amphibian and replaces him with his dumpy servant Lawrence (Philip Bartlet), in a conspiracy to marry Tiana's ditzy heirress friend Charlotte (Jennifer Cody) and steal her family fortune. Kissing Naveen turns Tiana into a frog as well, and our now-amphibian protagonists join two typically eccentric sidekicks - trumpet-playing gator Louie (Michael-Leon Wooley) and star-loving firefly Ray (Jim Cummings) to enlist the aid of voodoo mistress Mama Odie (Jenifer Lewis) and foil Facilier's plans.

There is very little plot or character-wise that The Princess and the Frog hasn't been taken from any number of Disney films, but that's exactly why it works. There's a pleasure in sitting down and watching a fun 2-D film that can't be equalled by even the best Pixar films, and certainly not bland, sterile knock-offs like Kung Fu Panda and Bolt. The story is told in the usual manner, with predictably-broad - but still funny - humor, gorgeous animation, warm and lovable characters (exempting our villains of course) and a slew of catchy songs. The racial issue - Tiana is, after all, the first black "Disney princess" - is mostly avoided, aside from one fairly oblique scene, so we thankfully miss out on an obnoxious mediation on tolerance a la Pocahontas. We do, however, get a lengthy lecture on the virtue of hard work, contrasting the hard-working but unsuccessful Tiana with the rich playboy Naveen - an odd message from a movie about talking frogs, and a surprisingly conservative one for a movie with such ballyhoo about its black protagonists. Still, this complacent cliche seems almost refreshing after film after animated film about believing in yourself and becoming a hero.

Of course, the story and messages aren't really important here - the animation and spectacle are. This film is in the sure hands of directors Ron Clements and John Musker (Aladdin and The Little Mermaid), and it looks positively gorgeous, from the meticulously-recreated, detailed New Orleans, to the creepy, nightmarish voodoo sequences, to the gorgeously-recreated bayou scenes. This movie's mis-en-scene really reminds a viewer of old-school Disney classics, even with the 3-D enhancement. The songs are mostly good, lively jazz-infused tunes, with gorgeous choreo-animation (to borrow a phrase from Sports Night), though none of the numbers particularly stands out.

The film wisely avoids the star-studded voice casts which have been a staple since Aladdin; the only big names are John Goodman, Terrence Howard and Oprah Winfrey, who are well-used in small but important parts. Anika Noni Rose (Dreamgirls) does an excellent job as Tiana, making her a strong, sympathetic heroine - and of course, her signing voice is astonishing. Bruno Campos is hilarious as Naveen, and Keith David (Platoon) predictably steals his scenes as the film's villain. It's nice to see (hear?) voice-over great Jim Cummings in a large supporting part. Michael-Leon Wooley and Jenifer Cody are rather obnoxious but they're rather hampered by their respective roles.

The Princess and the Frog is very old-fashioned Disney, but therein lies its appeal: we haven't seen a movie like this is in a long time. Hopefully, Disney will give us more of the same, and even if they don't reach the level of their hallowed classics, that will be fine with me.

The Charge of the Light Brigade (1968)

"If they can't fornicate, they can't fight. And if they don't fight hard, I will flog their backs raw for all their fine looks!"

To date, two major films have been produced about the disastrous Charge of the Light Brigade. The first, Michael Curtiz's 1936 effort with Errol Flynn, is an escapist imperial adventure without a shred of historical accuracy. Its simple story reduces the Crimean War's messy imperial politics into personal revenge, catching the glorious spirit of Tennyson's poem in exciting style.

Tony Richardson's 1968 film is much more accurate, but equally problematic. It's certainly impressive in scope and pageantry, and its damning indictment of military idiocy remains strong. But it also suffers from a disjointed tone, unsure if it wants to be a rollicking satire or a powerful anti-war statement.

In 1854, England and France edge towards war with Russia, whose ambitions in Eastern Europe menace the Ottoman Empire. As war fever intensifies, the 11th Hussars, under ruthless Lord Cardigan (Trevor Howard), recruits criminals, derelicts and assorted scum. Idealistic Captain Louis Nolan (David Hemmings) joins the regiment, but immediately clashes with Cardigan. Cardigan tries to cashier Nolan from the army over a trivial incident, but commander Lord Raglan (John Gielgud) sides with the junior officer. The clash of egos continues through the war, where the woefully unprepared British Army bumbles through a series of engagements with crack Russian troops, culminating in the titular Charge at Balaclava.

The Charge of the Light Brigade is largely a black comedy, a Doctor Strangelove for the 1850's. Drawing on Cecil Woodham-Smith's book The Reason Why, Richardson and writer Charles Wood attack the British Army's class-dominated officer corps. This inequitable system allowed officers to purchase commissions. Designed to prevent the rise of a powerful military caste as in Germany or France, it effectively populated the Army with rich dilettantes and dullards. Forty years removed from Waterloo, the Brits were in poor shape for a major war.

Richardson's portrait is broad but effective. Cardigan embodies the pompous aristocrat to a T, amoral, egotistical, vain and none-too-bright, expecting unconditional admiration. He loathes Nolan for his Indian service and ambition, and nurses hatred for brother-in-law Lord Lucan (Harry Andrews), his division commander. The senile Raglan literally fights the last war, confusing the Russians with his French allies. Under such dismal leadership the army falls apart in the Crimea, inept tactics compounded by poor supplies and cholera. A disaster is inevitable.

Richardson provides solid direction, with near-perfect art direction and photography. The battle scenes are epic in scope, with the elite Turkish Presidential Cavalry expertly marshaled, and David Watkins' widescreen photography makes it clear how Raglan garbled his fateful order. The fighting itself is a bit underwhelming, however, Richardson going for the gritty details rather than grand scope. John Addison provides a marvelous score, mixing imperial bombast with mellow tragedy.

Special praise goes to Richard Williams' brilliant animation sequences. Based on Punch magazine's political cartoons, Williams delivers some creative imagery: an English lion pummeling a Russian bear, Great Britain collectively crying out "Poor little Turkey!", Queen Victoria and Prince Albert dancing an angelic victory waltz. These sequences are so stunning they nearly overshadow the live action.

Where Light Brigade falters is its story structure. The superfluous romance between Nolan and Clarissa (Vanessa Redgrave) is ill-judged filler. Early scenes dote on the 11th's common troopers, especially the Sergeant Major (Norman Rossington) whose refusal to spy for Cardigan ruins his career. Once we arrive in the Crimea these angles are unceremoniously dropped, much to the film's detriment.

On another level, the opening hour's brutal satire gives way to an awkward tonal dissonance in the war scenes. We laugh at Raglan's nonsensical pronouncements and Cardigan's awkward tryst with Fanny Duberly (Jill Bennett), but the battle scenes and soldiers' suffering are played deadly serious. It just doesn't add up, and Light Brigade becomes unwieldy and uneven.

Trevor Howard gives a masterful turn; blustering and chewing scenery in inimitable fashion, this is one of Howard's best performances. Harry Andrews matches him rant for rant, while John Gielgud's droll underplaying provides welcome balance. David Hemmings gives a layered performance, dashing and indignant but arrogant in his own right. Vanessa Redgrave's token role is forgettable but Jill Bennett is hysterically randy. Norman Rossington gets a rare standout role, playing his part with the right boisterous gravitas. Other roles go to Howard Marion-Crawford, Alan Dobie, Corin Redgrave and Donald Wolfit.

The Charge of the Light Brigade is a mixed bag. It's easy to laugh at the '36 version's anachronisms, but it's much more entertaining than Richardson's take. Nonetheless, its depiction of upper class arrogance and military bumbling is certainly worth watching.

Click here for a more detailed analysis.

Enchanted

It's not exactly a secret that the gentleman who runs this blog is head over heels in love with Amy Adams, the beautiful, charming and extremely talented redhead who has finally emerged as an A-list star in the last year or so. For that reason, I finally got around to watch her star-making turn in Disney's Enchanted, a silly, slight but extremely charming bit of romantic fluff. It's not a masterpiece, but I got what I came for - 100 minutes of fluffy, silly entertainment and Ms. Adams at her charming best.

Giselle (Amy Adams) is a beautiful inhabitant of the mythic fairy kingdom of Andalasia, which stands in for every Disney land of magic, cheerily talking and singing animals, beautiful protagonists, ugly bad guys, and true-love at first sight. She is engaged to be married to the handsome Prince Edward (James Marsden), but Edward's evil stepmother (Susan Sarandon) has other plans, banishing Giselle to a "place with no happily ever after" - New York City. Giselle is picked up by Robert (Patrick Dempsey), a down-on-his-luck lawyer and single dad reluctant to propose to his long-tiem girlfriend Nancy (Idina Menzel), and immediately begins spreading cheer, happiness and singing into his mundane life. Pursued by evil Queen and her duplicitous henchman Nathaniel (Timothy Spall), Giselle attempts to find her true love Edward - only to find herself falling for Robert and realizing the real-life meaning of love.

Enchanted is a sweet, charming fairy tale that achieves exactly what it sets out to do. As a spoof of Disney and the idea of fairy tales, it's not particularly novel - Shrek, Hoodwinked and numerous lesser films have beaten this concept into the ground in recent years - but it succeeds as a fairy tale in its own right. It's a much gentler deflating of the fairy tale than the abovementioned films, gently skewering fairy tale conventions while admitting that they have their place in the real world, after all. It's also extremely refreshing to see, however briefly, a return to Disney's lovely hand-drawn animation instead of the increasingly boring all-CGI, sub-Pixar efforts they've been making in the last few years. The songs, especially That's How You Know, are charming and well-used.

Amy Adams is beyond adorable in this film. She makes Giselle's ridiculous cheeriness and naivette thoroughly believable and charming, and does a nice job showing her evolution from literal cartoon to real human as the film progresses. The supporting cast provides some fun as well; Patrick Dempsey gives a good straight man performance as the incredulous Robert, Susan Sarandon has the evil bitch goddess thing down pat by now, and James Marsden and Timothy Spall provide excellent comic relief. Only Idina Menzel is curiously wasted as Robert's fiancee; how can you hire the star of Rent and Wicked for your film without giving her any songs?

Enchanted is by no means a masterpiece, but it's definitely lots of fun for what it is - a silly, happy and entertaining family film. And need I say any more about Amy Adams?

Rating: 7/10 - Recommended

All I have to say about Bolt

Well, I had a decent turkey day with my family (watching "Planes, Trains and Automobiles", a film I MAY want to blog about when I get back to Pitt), just about suffered a heart attack when Pitt narrowly beat West Virginia yesterday, and was dragged by my family to see Bolt. I'd like to write an in-depth review of the movie, but my God! I already did a rant about the genericness of modern (American) animation, I don't feel up to it right this moment.

Here are my brief comments. If you, like me, are a dog person and are susceptible to the charms of a puppy face and doggy eccentricities (even an animated one voice by John Travolta), you will probably enjoy Bolt on some level. Susie Essman's wonderfully mean and sarcastic cat Mittens is also loads of fun (although Mark Walton's loud-mouthed hamster is rather annoying). The requisite sentimentality is done reasonably well.

And... that's about it.

I'm getting a lot of great feedback on my Australia review over on IMDB (except by the usual trolls and troglodytes), which I really appreciate. If only those people could become regular readers, that would be great. Try as I may to act humble, I'm an egotist at heart, and I appreciate any and all praise that comes my way. Thanks to any of you who may be reading this.

Speaking of Australia: Here's an excellent article where Baz Luhrmann talks about his influences for the film. You should be able to guess most of them, but an interesting read nonetheless.

Kung-Fu Panda, Or: Where Have(n't) I Seen This Before?

See if this plot sounds familiar: an animated film features a loveable oddball, something of an outcast in their society but a good person at heart, who just wants to prove themselves and do their own thing. Enter: a) an evil bad guy, b) an insurmountable obstacle, c) uncaring parents/elders/friends, d) impotent other heroes, e) all of the above. Eventually, he wins the day, gets accolades, is accepted by those who previously shunned him, and maybe even gets a platonic relationship with a cutesy creature of the opposite sex.

What movie am I describing? Thirty seconds.

Time's up. What's your answer? Mulan? Bambi? Hercules? The Hunchback of Notre Dame? Chicken Little? Finding Nemo? Shrek? Surf's Up? Wall-E? Ratatouille? Happy Feet? Shark Tale? SpongeBob SquarePants: The Movie? Kung-Fu Panda?

Well, if your answer was any or all of the above: You're right!

This whole shenanigan is simply to illustrate the dearth of originality present in Hollywood animation today - be it Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, Fox, whoever or what-have-you. There are occasional exceptions to this rule - Madagascar and Hoodwinked come to mind right away - but to say that most of today's animated films are trawling the depths of cliche would be a generous (not to mention overly verbose) statement. Quite frankly, I am sick to death of these films preaching the trite and cheesy message that you can achieve anything if only you believe in yourself. For once, I'd love to see a Pixar movie that preached rigid conformity and going along with the flow. That, at least, would be original!

Which brings to Kung-Fu Panda. Given the recent piles of mediocrity which have recently come out of the Dreamworks factory, I was surprised by the very positive reviews this film received. Perhaps it had something to make it stand apart from the aforementioned counter-parts?

Well, yes and no. Kung-Fu Panda has a good many positive attributes which deserve praise, but it overall fails to transcend its extremely hackneyed story. However, it manages to get more laughs than drek like Happily N'Ever After and Surf's Up, so that's definitely a big plus.

I won't spend over much time raking over plot details, since the generals have been covered. Po (Jack Black) is a lazy slacker panda who idolizes the Furious Five - a team of martial artists who are being trained by Shifu (Dustin Hoffman - yes, Dustin Hoffman is a karate master). Po seems doomed to life as a restauranteur with his eccentric duck father (the always-welcome James Hong), until he accidentally is appointed the hollowed Dragon Warrior by the senile old guru Ooguay (Randall Duk Kim), even though Po is a hapless failure. Unfortunately, Shifu's apprentice-turned-bad Tailan (Ian McShane) escapes from prison and sets out to destroy his former mentor. I think you can take the story from here.

What does the movie have in its favor? It's generally inoffensive fare, fortunately lacking in gross-out and toilet humor, which is a nice thing in modern animation. The animation is quite striking, filled with pleasing Asian stylization (which would be intriguing if most of the cast weren't white Hollywood celebs), and the action scenes are impressively rendered. There are quite a few jokes which work, mostly due to Jack Black, who has lots of fun with his loser-turned-savior character. The voice acting is nice; Black gives his usual hyperkinetic performance (which works as well animated as it does in his best live-action work), and with a cast consisting of Dustin Hoffman, David Cross, Angelina Jolie, Lucy Liu, Jackie Chan, Michael Clarke Duncan, Seth Rogen, and Ian McShane (to name just a few), it would be hard to miss completely. So, it's a good enough movie, for both the entertainment-starved youngster and the less choosy parent, and at just over 80 minutes it at least doesn't run the risk of overstaying its welcome.

Still, as entertaining as this film generally is, it doesn't change the basic problem. I still haven't seen a great American animated film since Finding Nemo, or at least the first half of The Incredibles. Maybe moving beyond the bone-headedly simplistic zero-to-hero plot would be a good idea? Huh? Nah, why not stick with what works (in bringing in the kiddies)? Not like three year olds really care about plot anyway, but other people watch these films too. I guess I can say Kung-Fu Panda is an above-average spin on a terribly formulaic storyline, and let's leave it at that.

Rating: 7/10 - Recommended