The Good Dinosaur--First Thoughts

        I watched The Good Dinosaur only a few days after it opened, but I felt like letting my thoughts simmer for a few days. I enjoyed myself enough, and believe me when I say it is surprisingly gorgeous. Pixar often mentions and hints that they could go for more realism but they go for style instead. In this movie they brought the goods. The story didn't seem as mind-blowing, though. I've started noticing how often Pixar stories borrow the "buddy comedy" format, which goes back all the way to the first Toy Story movie. Woody/Marlin/Lightning/Carl/Joy/Arlo suffers a loss and must learn to trust Buzz/Dory/Mater and the town/Russel/Sadness/Spot to help him. And yet I was having a genuinely good time. I needed time to process why.
        The premise worried me because it sounded like A Land Before Time with humans. Then seeing a Bronto(Apato?)saurus plowing a corn field made me wonder if it was Jim Henson's Dinosaurs. But no, the movie has its own identity and style. Spot is the only one with thumbs and technology is pretty limited to what quadrupeds could make. Dinosaur life is agrarian. As a buddy of mine said, they tricked us into watching a western.
        That might be why I enjoyed it so much. The opening title came accompanied by a folk-inspired music theme, and that should have tipped me off. But the discovery and realization that the movie was connecting two different eras got me excited. I guess that's the similar appeal of Cowboys in space or Steampunk. Mixing time periods or cultures gives us a new vision of what could be, and new ways to tell stories. The Good Dinosaur doesn't laugh at the implausibility, it celebrates a beautiful possibility. To see Tyrannosaurs galloping across a prairie along with bison gives them a grace and majesty I hadn't really noticed before.
        I also appreciated seeing the world through both Spot's and Arlo's eyes. Sometimes we hope Arlo finds his strength, and sometimes we hope Spot can figure out Arlo's needs. They earn the last embrace of the movie by the way they worked together to communicate and reach out to each other, even without words. There was a moment that reminded me of the scene WALL-E where he and EVE use a single word, "directive," to convey deep meaning. In the end, what I celebrate Pixar for the most is their way of communicating more with less. They even avoided the trap of stopping the story to deliver a Moral of the Story. Which is good because the moral isn't as simple as "Earn your stripes, boy." It's about honoring those who go before while becoming more than they were.
        So I'd happily see The Good Dinosaur again. I'll drop my jaw at the scenery. I'll feel the tragedy, cheer for the rite of passage, and think of how to better connect with others. That's the way of most stories, and it reflects society in general. With information and communication more accessible, different cultures around the world now have to adjust to a new awareness of others. We can't dismiss whole groups of people as "wrong" or "strange" like we used to. So it's helpful to see those themes appear in art to remind us who we should be for others.

And no, you don't want to miss the opening cartoon this time. The Alvin and the Chipmunks trailer, yes, but not Sanjay's Super Team.

Inside Out--First Thoughts

This is the first Pixar movie in years that I haven't really needed to "defend." Everyone I know has been impacted by the movie even if they didn't think it the greatest thing since Luxo Jr. My approach to this "First thoughts" piece, then, will not just be why I liked it so much as what it made me think and feel. I should be able to do this without giving away surprises. 

If memory serves me, Pixar announced Inside Out while we were bracing ourselves for Cars 2. We appreciated Toy Story 3, but rumors of another Monsters, Inc. movie got many of us worried if we only had sequels to look forward to anymore. Then at a Disney presentation they announced two new untitled movies: “The Untitled Pixar Movie About Dinosaurs” and “The Untitled Pixar Movie that Takes You Inside the Mind.” 

Halfway into the movie I realized that’s exactly what it did: It wasn’t just exploring Riley’s emotions, it was getting me to analyze myself, go inside my own head. That took a lot of multitasking, and as I write this I still feel very introspective, to the point where I don’t know how much I can say about the movie itself, but here goes. 

I got to hear the soundtrack before I watched the movie. It only got me more excited. I’ve known of Michael Giacchino since The Incredibles and I always trust him to carry me through even the dullest stories. The opening cue to this movie has a sense of wonder to it because the mind is such a mysterious concept. The opening also reflected the wonder we all feel as we marvel over a newborn. What are they thinking? Do they really see us or know who they are? My favorite part of the main melodic theme is the way a chromatic note sneaks into the very end of the accompaniment. Sometimes it makes the theme sound a little off-key. The theme is very bubbly and whimsical but a little sadness can't help but sneak in. 

The character design is fascinating, too, down to the micro level. At first I thought the emotions' skin looked fuzzy like a Muppet, but closeups showed they're made of some kind of particles. It gave me a sense that there was much more to these characters and this world that we have no time to explore. It also adds realism because the characters aren't just Riley's imagination--they're made of something, whatever it may be. 

Joy kind of looks like a multi-colored Tinkerbell, and that’s not a complaint. It reflects her bouncy, flighty personality. She’s also the only emotion with more than one color. The others are pretty much all red, blue, or green, but Joy along with her bright yellow she has blue hair and eyes. That’s a lovely symbolic way to propose that sadness is the key to truly experience and appreciate joy. 

The other point I wanted to applaud Pixar for is the voice casting. I’ve said before that Pixar goes for the right voice rather than the famous face. Amy Poehler of course would make a good over-eager, somewhat oblivious lead, but how many of us remembered Phyllis Smith’s name? She doesn't just play a female Eeyore. Her Sadness wants to be involved, wants to guide, wants to feel happy in her way about her contributions to the team. That's true of all the emotions. They all have their approaches, their unique functions, but they never disagree on their objective. They know they serve and aid Riley. 

It was fascinating to me how Sadness wanted Joy to return to headquarters but didn't seem to think it mattered if she did. Everyone who knew who Joy was thought it was important she be there, even if it meant staying behind. I like to think that even the most morose people want to get better, be happy. Some just don't naturally know how. The other emotions tried to help Riley express positive thoughts but the same words can come out differently through the wrong emotional filter. 

When tragedies or huge changes come to our lives the shock can cause us to feel lost, unsure how to cope. Staying connected to our core values helps us see that our new world isn't that much different, even if some details change or fade away over time. Those changes make growth possible. The mother's mind had her Sadness in the leader role, but she wasn't the saddest. She was the wisest, the most conscious. The greatest moments of sadness tend to provide the most experience and knowledge. When we allow the full spectrum of emotions run their course we can see the world untinted, unfiltered, complete.    

Now if only I could figure out what to learn from the Lava song. *shudder*                                        

Monsters University—First Thoughts.

I followed my tradition of watching the new Pixar movie on the 4th of July. I was especially interested in this one because once I conclude my thoughts on Toy Story 2 I'll dive next into Monsters, Inc. For a prequel that nobody wanted, this movie had some pressure. Pixar always promises that they don't make sequels unless they feel they have a story worth telling. Lately, though, the company famous for innovation has been announcing several franchise expansions in lieu of new concepts. On top of that, prequels are very difficult to write. Being the Pixar apologist I am always willing to give them a chance to prove themselves, and I walked away satisfied and proud to say so.

What's wrong with prequels? Part of the problem lies with our preoccupation with "spoilers." If you know how the movie ends, or if you know how the next installment will turn out, your experience is "spoiled." You can't enjoy it. Along those lines, if I knew for fact that in a year I would make a million dollars, I would almost wear myself out with anticipation. If my car breaks down again or if I lose my job, I'll think to myself "Well let's just see how I get that million dollars. It will be awesome." If a movie is good it can't be spoiled by knowing the ending, only enhanced because anticipation will drive you to pay attention so you can experience the ending for yourself.

That's the potential that a prequel can have. Mike wants to be a scary monster. We know he doesn't scare anybody in Monsters, Inc. What happens to change his mind? Is he going to fail? Are we going to see a devastated Wizowski? You can see in Sully's eyes at one point he has no faith in Mike. How is he going to break the news to him? They're best friends in the next movie. How will they overcome this potential deal breaker?

Monsters U creates that anticipation very well. In Monsters, Inc. We see Mike coaching Sully, and we learn he got that drive and insight into scaring from becoming a top student at MU. Where many movies enjoy making the situation look hopeless before turning it around at the end, MU shows Mike as someone who won't back down and even overcomes his own trepidation to triumph before getting the rug pulled out from under him. And seeing the way he finally works his way to the top in the epilogue doesn't feel like a cheat but rather like an example of following the things you love to do.

MU's plot is just as relevant now as MI's was 12 years ago. MI dealt with an energy crisis. MU dealt with pursuing a career and building upon natural talents. Coaches constantly advise job seekers to figure out their talents and natural abilities, or whatever draws their attention. What if you have a pipe dream, but you don't quite have the aptitude for it? Can you find job satisfaction in a different area, still in the same field? If you lose your dream job, should you try going back to school to find another one?

Another way MU works as a prequel is that it enhances, not diminishes, the original. That's what sequels and prequels ought to do if they want to help the franchise or series along. Darth Vader isn't the same anymore because we learned in the Star Wars prequels what a whiner he was growing up. And I can't respect "All I ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera because I know in the sequel Raoul becomes a pathetic drunk and Christine decides she'd rather love an obsessive homicidal maniac.

Oh, sorry. Spoilers.

Monsters U, though, creates a depth. We learn that our heroes have a history with Randall, not just an overly competitive relationship. And when Sully discovers the power of laughter in MI it becomes a bigger discovery for him than before. He confesses in the prequel that his success came from standing on Mike's shoulders, that he had very little success through his efforts alone. Later, when he meets Boo at Monsters, Inc. It's the first discovery he ever made himself, so of course he wants to see what comes of it, even if it comes at the expense of his own career and legacy.

Both movies stand on their own at the same time. We get to see more in depth how monsters frighten children, and even get a glimpse into what's really happening in a monster movie. It's like the way the first superhero movie introduces the characters so the second one dives into the story. I counted really only one character's appearance that only worked as a set-up for the second movie and takes away a little of the effect of MI's plot. MU has it's own pacing and own setup and climax, and it's a powerful one without overshadowing the chase from MI. Indeed, Monsters, Inc. now feels just as much like a sequel as Monsters University feels like a prequel.

That sounds pretty innovative to me.

Brave—First thoughts.

I realize my thoughts on the movie won’t sway many people to watch or abstain from Brave. I do think it’s a good idea to document my initial reaction to it for later when I go more in depth later.

I've decided not to let a Rotten Tomatoes score influence my thoughts on a movie. According to the site, Brave has a slightly better score than Cars. If we take that too literally, it means Merida’s archery pleases as big a crowd as Mater’s dad-gumming does.  Yeah, that doesn’t make a fair comparison. I found Brave more subtle, more confident, and more focused.

The biggest problem I found was the misleading title. Much of the movie addressed less bravery and more communication. From Merida struggling to communicate with her parents to the clans trying to communicate civilly between each other, to that one Scottish boy whose accent is so thick no one knows what he says. The word Brave as a story title is perhaps a little too vague, since just about any conflict you can name needs at least a little courage to solve.

I wouldn't suggest a name change for the movie, but perhaps address why Merida's actions are so ground-breaking. The mother could be protective of her daughter, as we saw her reluctance to let Merida learn to use a bow. That and her husband lost his leg to a bear. And the mother tries so hard to set Merida’s fate in stone we could explore tradition as a type of comfort zone. It worked pretty well in A Bug’s Life and Finding Nemo. Oh, well. That was really the main problem I felt the movie had. The rest of it made me really happy to be there.

The characters are colorful. The most fascinating one for me at the moment is the father. For one thing, he exists. Second, he’s the one with a peg leg, yet he's not as protective as her mother until danger seems imminent, then he's a father in battle. The mother, in turn, has her reasons for her expectations, and seeing how she learns to communicate with her daughter is a testament to Pixar’s way of conveying meaning to the audience. From the faces of Merida's suitors you can tell they aren’t 100% enthused about the whole thing. And here’s something cool to think on: There’s no real villain, only good people who do bad things. Even the witch in the movie is reluctant to cast any type of curse for fear of the consequences. The conflict comes from characters being themselves.

Pixar still has a way with visuals, too. There’s pretentious symbolism and metaphor to satisfy the English majors. Consider Merida’s hair, and how hard it is for some people to let their hair down in the film. Bears turn out to be a sign of fear, and something the characters must overcome. And as each confronts her personal bear according to her character, so we must….never mind. Symbolism aside, we’re in Scotland! It’s fun! There are bagpipes and waterfalls! There’s so much life in the film and it really helps the audience take themselves to that world.

Bottom line: Brave got the job done. It could have made the whole bravery thing more clear, but there was a story, things got worse, then they got better, and I enjoyed my time in Scotland.