The Little Prince

Posted on August 16, 2016 by Tom

Release: Friday, August 5, 2016 (Netflix)

[Netflix]

Written by: Irena Brignull; Bob Persichetti

Directed by: Mark Osborne

The Little Prince is a gem. It’s a crime it never received a theatrical release. It’s a heartwarming journey rivaling anything Pixar has created on an emotional and intellectual level, and perhaps it’s the complex, multi-layered animation that truly sets the film apart, interweaving crude stop-motion with crisp, computer-generated imagery to produce an aesthetic you’ll struggle to find elsewhere.

Kung Fu Panda director Mark Osborne’s enchanting tale is a reimagining of the 1943 French novella of the same name, penned by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, a successful commercial pilot (and novelist, poet, aristocrat and journalist) prior to World War II. The man once traveled to American shores in an attempt to convince the government to bring the fight to Nazi Germany following his disenfranchisement from the French Air Force in the early 1940s. He spent a little over two years in the States writing what would later become three of his most popular works. He later would re-join the Force only to disappear mysteriously soon thereafter à la Amelia Earhart.

Saint-Exupéry’s experiences as an aviator factor into this modern interpretation of The Little Prince in curious ways. (It should be noted, however, that his original story was published before he enlisted.) Fantastical elements are of course front-and-center and the story is entrenched in the stresses of modern living, but under the surface lie untold mysteries and tales of bravery, heroism and self-discovery. Strong emotional hooks are drawn from an impressive, inspired voice cast and Osborne’s touch, though ultimately nothing unique, is just confident enough to steer the story in a direction that, come the end, very well may have you in tears. The good kind, of course.

We’re introduced to The Little Girl (Mackenzie Foy, who thus far has Interstellar, The Conjuring and Ernest & Celestine on her résumé, and at the time of writing she’s yet to turn 16) who lives in a very grown-up world driven by rules, schedules and obedience. Her Mother (Rachel McAdams) wants her to attend the prestigious Academy so she can grow up and become an essential, contributing member of society. The initial interview does not go well as the panel, led by Paul Giamatti‘s intimidating and overly harsh instructor, springs an unexpected question upon her that causes her to panic. Mother has a Plan B: make her daughter cram so much studying into each and every day of her summer vacation she’ll be sure not to have any distractions (i.e. friends).

Mother draws up an impossibly elaborate Life Plan and constructs it so that each minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year is accounted for. Soon enough, The Little Girl rebels. She befriends their eccentric, hoarding and elderly neighbor, The Aviator (Jeff Bridges), who is introduced as the scourge of this SimCity-esque neighborhood — one comprised of identical blocky houses and roads filled with cars driving identical speeds and in organized right-angled patterns. Mother looks at the situation like so: “Just think about [his] house being the reason [ours] is available. This is the place where you’ll learn to grow up and become Essential.” (I paraphrase.)

The Aviator is a wonderful creation, and Bridges brings the character to life in ways that are difficult to fathom. Practically speaking, his performance is little more than a voice laid over/synced up with a cartoon character. It’s not the genuine article, and yet, he is mesmeric as he regales The Little Girl about his past experiences with an enigma he calls The Little Prince, whom he met after crashing his plane in the Sahara Desert many years ago. The Little Prince (voiced by the director’s son Riley) shows him a world where everything is possible, a reality that The Aviator has been trying for years to communicate to anyone willing to listen. Finally he has found someone who will, even if her intelligence means she’s skeptical about certain details.

The Little Prince is a space-traveling young lad who once lived on a tiny planetoid, a celestial object so small you could traverse on foot in a matter of minutes and whose existence is constantly being threatened by hungry tree roots eager to take over the entire planet. He left this world and a Rose he fell in love with (voiced by Marion Cotillard for some reason) in search of greater truths amongst the cosmos. In the present day, The Little Girl decides it is her responsibility to track down The Little Prince and prove to The Aviator that he still does exist, and that even though he has grown into a jaded, passive adult, he never abandoned the child within.

The Little Prince astounds on a visual level. It is an exercise in contrasts, the real world from which The Little Girl temporarily escapes suffocating with its seriousness and sterility, while the universe expands into this wondrous, strange space in which individual worlds are populated by simplistic, insulated communities comprised of childless, passionless adult drones. Scale is quirkily reduced to something almost tangible. We’re not talking interstellar travel here, more like a weekend road trip amongst the stars. You’ll find the stop-motion animation reserved for backstories concerning The Aviator’s relationship with The Little Prince while the rest operates in a pristine, colorful world that gives Disney a run for its money.

Much like a Roald Dahl creation, The Little Prince refuses to condescend to its pint-sized viewers. It strikes a delicate balance between entertaining youngsters while providing the more jaded a few different ways to look at the lives they’ve shaped for themselves. Occasionally the chronicle trips into the realm of the pretentious with a few overly-poetic spits of dialogue that attempt to spice up an already fairly advanced narrative. It doesn’t have to try so hard. The exploration of just what it was that caused the kid in us to go away is profound enough on its own.

Recommendation: The Little Prince offers adventurous viewers something a little different. Generally speaking the story arc isn’t something you’ll be experiencing for the first time, but it’s the incredible nuance and the textures and the layers to the animation that make it one of the most original works this former animated-film-skeptic has seen all year. Stellar performances abound. There’s even a cute fox voiced by James Franco, a Benicio del Toro-sounding snake and Albert Brooks is along for the ride so the cast is reason enough to check it out. Also, stop-motion. Have I mentioned how awesome the technique is? Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. Available on Netflix.

Rated: PG

Running Time: 106 mins.

Quoted: “It is only with heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.impawards.com; http://www.imdb.com

The BFG

Posted on July 1, 2016 by Tom

Release: Friday, July 1, 2016

[Theater]

Written by: Melissa Mathison

Directed by: Steven Spielberg

Great Gallywampers and fiddly tweezlesticks, I is very pleased indeed that Steven Spielberg has delivered the goodles in his very first venture into Roald Dahl‘s brilliant imagurnation. The BFG is breathtaker beautiful, and not just thanks to its scrumptioutious imagery, neither. It recalls the warminess and serenity of Brian Cosgrove’s 1989 animated adventure and ‘n fact it mighty jus’ be more endearin’ because of the live-action interplayery.

No, don’t worry, I’m not gonna speak in Dahlian tongues for the entire review. That’s just my overly dramatic way of expressing relief that The BFG turns out to be the real deal, rather than a pale imitator. The story is clumsier than you might expect with a Spielbergian production — we find as many lulls in the story as we do frobscottle-induced farts (excuse me, whizzpoppers) — but that’s merely the product of a director’s faithfulness to the source material. Spielberg otherwise hits every major note with an assured and playful touch, his knack for conjuring powerful feelings of wonder and awe giving this sweet summer diversion a personality all its own.

Indeed, The BFG is mostly a success in that it doesn’t create any new problems. It merely inherits those of its ancestor — namely, the aforementioned inconsistent and at-times sluggish pace and a few leaps of faith in logic in service of a narrative that just may well be Dahl’s strangest and most fanciful. Story concerns a young girl named Sophie (newcomer Ruby Barnhill) who is whisked away one night from Mrs. Clonkers’ Orphanage by a huge, hooded creature and to Giant Country, a wondrous place filled with beauty. Do I smell a Best Visual Effects nomination? I do, as a matter of fact: that sequence in Dream Country by the dream tree is simply mesmeric.

But Giant Country isn’t total paradise, it’s fraught with danger as well. The other giants among whom the BFG ekes out a quiet existence as a Dream Blower are much larger, meaner and they eat human beings (or, beans, rather). After learning she’s not leaving Giant Country anytime soon, Sophie encourages her big friendly giant to stand up for himself and to rid the land of these brutes, led by Jemaine Clement‘s Fleshlumpeater, once and for all. The pair seek the help of the Queen (Penelope Wilton) and her Royal Army back in the real world to do just that.

As is the case with a great many Dahl adaptations, the suspension of disbelief is a requisite and that ability serves viewers well here, especially as the fearless Sophie encourages the two worlds to collide. The performances anchoring the film are so good they allow us to overlook many a flawed concept. And there are more than a few. Spielberg’s potential new muse in Mark Rylance loses himself in the role as the titular giant and very well might have upstaged David Jason’s original voice performance that made the larger-than-life being an unforgettable creation. His spoonerisms and awkward turns of phrase were a highlight of that original as they are here as well, and once again it’s a joy watching ten-year-old Sophie trying to update and expand his childlike vocabulary.

Rylance doesn’t do it alone, though. He gets tremendous support from the young Barnhill who embraces Sophie’s wide-eyed curiosity about the strange world surrounding her with real gusto. She’s also brilliant at balancing the heartbreak of growing up without parents with a sense of maturity that makes her as well-rounded a character as you’re likely going to find with a child actor. All those years ago Sophie had already been made a strong character thanks to Amanda Root’s precociousness and intellectual curiosity, and those qualities are only bolstered by Barnhill’s live-action incarnation. Most importantly, the quasi-parental bond between the two isn’t lost in translation. The problem of loneliness is resolved with respect for Dahl’s affinity for the weird very much intact come the tear-jerking conclusion.

One of the challenges Spielberg is up against with his take on a Dahlian classic is finding an audience outside of those loyal readers and those who keep the 1989 made-for-British-television special close to their heart. The BFG is certifiably obscure material but perhaps with names attached like Spielberg and Rylance it can reach for broader audiences. This uplifting, sweet tale of bravery and dream-making certainly deserves them.

Recommendation: The BFG, as I have suspected since the announcement was first made, represents an ideal union of director and material. The world created by Roald Dahl is practically tailor-made for one of the world’s best when it comes to imaginative, inspiring filmmaking and the end product, while not perfect, is about as good as could be expected. The performances are wonderful and if you’re tired of the summer blockbuster trend, I have to recommend The BFG. Like, immediatarily.

Rated: PG

Running Time: 117 mins.

Quoted: “Why did you take me?” / “Because I hears your lonely heart, ‘n all the secret whisperings of the world.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.joblo.com; http://www.imdb.com

Genre Grandeur – The BFG (1989) – Digital Shortbread

Posted on May 31, 2016 by Tom

Hey everyone, I participated once again in MovieRob’s monthly Genre Grandeur. This month’s selection was a pretty easy one for me as some of my favorite films are Adventure films, and I went with something a *little* more off the beaten path with the animated original version of The B.F.G. Check it out!

MovieRob

For this month’s next review for Genre Grandeur – Adventure Films, here’s a review of The BFG (1989) by Tom of Digital Shortbread

Thanks again to Damien of Riley on Film for choosing this month’s genre.

Next month’s Genre has been chosen by Summer of Serendipitous Anachronisms. She has chosen quite a unique genre and we will be reviewing our favorite Derivative Work Movies.

Here’s Summer to explain her choice:

Basically it is anything based or inspired by pre-existing source

for example:

Amelie takes its relationships from the Luncheon of the Boating Party

The Magnificent Seven is borrowed from the Seven Samurai

Sunday in the Park with George is based on painting by George Seurat

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is loosely based on Hamlet

My Own Private Idaho borrows from Henry the IV

Cosi is about a director directing the musical Cosi Fan Tutti

Pride Prejudice and Zombies borrows…

View original post 878 more words

TBT: The B.F.G. (Big Friendly Giant) (1989)

Posted on January 30, 2014 by Tom

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and now here we are, at the end of Roald Dahl month on TBT. I hope you all have enjoyed going through these posts as much as I have in creating them. I have to confess, when we entered the new year I had absolutely no game plan for January. But that actually happens with most months. 😀 I wanted to start off this year with a more well-defined series of throwbacks. Then I thought about all the Roald Dahl books I had read as a child, and all the films I had watched that were adapted from his work. Of course some escaped me. Throwback Thursday has helped me explore more of his world and has introduced me to some wonderful motion pictures at the same time, and with any luck I’ve helped some of you do the same. Now, we close out the month with one of the more obscure entries, but a solid one nonetheless.

Today’s food for thought: The B.F.G. (Big Friendly Giant):

Release: Christmas Day 1989

[Netflix]

Although this is arguably one of the strangest and most obscure of all the Roald Dahl big screen translations, The B.F.G. is undoubtedly Dahl through-and-through. Though this might be the first time some have ever heard of it, this touching adventure could be one of the more heartwarming pieces he had to offer.

A lonely orphan named Sophie (voiced by Amanda Root) is suddenly snatched from her bed in the terrible confines of the Clonkers Home for Girls by a mysterious giant figure late at night. It takes her far away from this place and to seemingly another world, where other giants apparently exist, ones that are not quite as nice and friendly as this one. She is stolen away to the giant’s little nook in the side of a mountain, where he introduces himself as The Big Friendly Giant. He explains that not only is he different from the rest because he’s pleasant, but that he has no intention of eating humans like the others. Thank goodness for that.

The two become fast friends. Being the inquisitive little girl that she is, Sophie wants to know what he was doing in her town late that night. As it turns out, the B.F.G. is a dream-weaver of sorts, as his job is to catch dreams in a spectacular place known as Dream Country and then to travel back to our world and blow them into the imaginations of sleeping children all throughout the night using a trumpet-like device. He bottles the dreams and stores them in his home until he decides where he’s going to take each one. Sophie is at first reluctant to believe that this is real, until the B.F.G. takes her there himself.

It’s not long, however, before one of the evil giants senses that there is a human in the area. This being a Roald Dahl adaptation, these beasts have some really odd names: there’s the Butcher Boy, the Fleshlumpeater, the Manhugger, the Childchewer, the Meatdripper, the Gizzardgulper, the Maidmasher, the Bloodbottler and, of course, who can forget the Bonecruncher. It is he, the Bonecruncher, who stumbles upon the B.F.G.’s lair one night and trashes his place in his search for this child but the friendly giant insists there’s no one there and that he is just talking to himself.

The thing with beasts, you see, is that they like to sleep all day and scour the land by night, looking for children to gorge themselves on. The B.F.G. wants nothing to do with them, and actively avoids going near them. With the help of this young girl, maybe the B.F.G. can become brave enough to find a way to rid the land permanently of these vicious creatures. Indeed, that is just what they do together.

When one trip back to Sophie’s home town finds the two in danger yet again since the Bonecruncher has found a way to follow them, the B.F.G. realizes that they might not ever be out of danger. He feels awful for putting Sophie in harm’s way. Returning to the land of giants, they form a plan that will involve the Queen, her Royal Air Force and a few acts of courage to rid this world of danger.

The B.F.G. has unfortunately slipped through the cracks compared to other productions based off of the renowned author’s scribblings. That’s strange considering the popularity of Dahl’s book. The novel’s 1981 release ensured a loyal following had already formed behind it (this book was his eleventh). However, that’s not to say the picture lacks in its passion for showing that there are indeed good people in this world. The B.F.G. represents the good adult role model wayward children so desperately need in their lives, and thanks to David Jason’s wonderful voiceover work, the film indeed offers that.

Scenes like the one in which the B.F.G. introduces Sophie to what he calls frobscottle — a strange drink in which the carbonation bubbles drift to the bottom, rather than up to the top, causing the person to fart (or ‘whizpop’) rather than burp — proof that this film is decidedly more for the benefit of children rather than adults; all the same, it’s an enchanting adventure that will often take you by surprise.

Recommendation: The B.F.G. is definitely worth the searching through Netflix’s immense collection, and should you choose it, be prepared for a great deal of silliness and perhaps even more strangeness. Reiterating, the younger viewers will benefit more from this quirky little animation and the film doesn’t quite hold the classic appeal of some of Dahl’s more popular adaptations, yet the journey is still a great deal of fun and I wish I had gotten to it sooner. At least I have now.

Rated: G

Running Time: 88 mins.

Quoted: “Meanings is not important. I cannot be right all the time. Quite often I is left instead of right.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.youtube.com; http://www.mubi.com

TBT: Matilda (1996)

Posted on January 23, 2014 by Tom

Throwback Thursday is here once again, offering up only the most nostalgic trips back in time as possible. This week is certainly no different. We go back to a time and place where children were best seen and not heard from; where it was alright for their parents to be downright nasty to them (even despite one of them being almost shorter than their six-year-old); a time when learning was a privilege and not a right. (That actually doesn’t make any sense, I just needed another sentence in there to make this paragraph longer.) But what does make sense is that this TBT is what I would consider as yet another classic film, and not just because it’s a great book adaptation, either.

Today’s food for thought: Matilda.

Release: August 2, 1996

[VHS]

Beware, the Trunchbull.

Danny DeVito’s fourth feature film as a director is uncompromising in its refusal to be just another lighthearted children’s movie. This was no young adult adaptation nor even a dark comedy, but rather a film based upon the children’s book of the same name in which a brave young girl learns to use her gifted imagination to overcome the oppression that’s perpetually hurled at her.

The deception is what powers this particular movie; the maturity of the thematic elements is still to this day almost shocking. Unlike other big-screen conversions like Fantastic Mr. Fox, James and the Giant Peach and The B.F.G., Matilda (and to a lesser degree Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) was an adaptation that truly took advantage of the dark, drab atmospheres that Dahl so famously immersed his young readers in. This was due in part to the live-action screenplay and the fact that a man of DeVito’s stature helmed the project.

Matilda (Mara Wilson) was a special girl whose home life was an absolute nightmare. This child epitomized the concept of having an active imagination. In fact, she had telekinetic powers that would prove to be both problematic and liberating. At home with her disgusting parents (DeVito and Rhea Perlman), Matilda often found herself bullied because of her inclination to read. When she’s forced into attending school at Crunchem Hall — a place that with the passage of time seems to only resemble more of a prison barrack than an educational institution — Matilda found friends in a few students and in particular, the kind-hearted Miss Honey (Embeth Davidtz). However, she also discovered her great enemy in the terrible Miss Agatha Trunchbull (an intimidating performance from Pam Ferris that has left me scarred to this very day). The Trunch enjoyed terrorizing students, and was quite effective in keeping the Hall under her thumb. That is until she came across the strange but brilliant Matilda Wormwood.

Dahl’s imagination apparently knew no bounds. He invented The Chokey for chrissake. And those who have watched this film/read the book understand what that horrible contraption was all about. The punishment for disobedience in this particular setting was severe, and here came this young girl willing to defy the odds just for the sake of seeking justice. Justice, in Dahl’s eyes here, being the right to be treated fairly, like any other normal kid at the time would be treated.

But Matilda found herself a target of the evil Trunchbull and victimized by her awful parents at every turn — until one day, enough was enough. One of the beautiful things about this decidedly bleak affair was getting to see the confidence building up in this little girl and seeing where she could most effectively apply her telekinetic energy. There’s no doubt that if there was one thing DeVito got right about his adaptation, it was this uncanny ability of Matilda to outwit her adult opponents. The cat-and-mouse chase through Trunch’s house one afternoon serves as a highlight.

But that’s not all DeVito nailed with his film. As a director, he managed to effect the tone almost perfectly. The book was no light read, just as the film doesn’t pretend to beautify the world. The performances he extracts from his cast are effective in the extreme, particularly those of Ferris and Wilson. DeVito turns in fine work as Matilda’s sketchy car dealer Harry, and Davidtz is wonderful as the shining light, the sole person to truly care for Matilda.

The film is set in appropriately depressing environs, with the Hall and the Wormwood home coloring in the black-and-white impressions we gained from Dahl’s writing, not to mention a handful of other story elements as well.

At the end of the day, Matilda is a wonderful movie that offers up charm and danger in equal doses, and its thematic elements still bear significance nearly twenty years on. As a child this can often be abrasive viewing, but watching this now is more likely to cause chuckles at the sheer overwrought nastiness in characters like the Trunchbull and Harry Wormwood. Therein lies the genius in the Roald Dahl school of thought.

Recommendation: Matilda is a remarkably mature read for six-to-ten-year-olds (it might be argued its just as good of a read now as it was then) and the film doesn’t abandon the notion. It’s not the nicest Dahl adaptation you’ll find, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a classic. It has its flaws, but those who grew up loving Roald Dahl should have already seen Matilda so many times on VHS that the tape no longer plays properly in the cassette.

Rated: PG

Running Time: 102 mins.

Quoted: “They’re all mistakes, children! Filthy, nasty things. Glad I never was one.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.pastposters.com; http://www.imdb.com

TBT: Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

Posted on January 16, 2014 by Tom

As we continue to make our way through Roald Dahl January, I can’t help but think this has been one of my favorite months for this thread. Of course, this particular January is stuffed with five Thursdays, so I am going to have to dig deep to find five film adaptations of this man’s brilliant work. The flip side to that coin is, getting to spend just a little bit more time immersed in the many wonderful creations of Mr. Dahl. And here, today, the 16th of the month, I may have run into one of my favorites. This throwback diverges from the previous ones this month in that not only have I never seen this film before but I have yet to get to the book upon which it’s based. Since the film is relatively new, it’s more understandable to miss out on that; but missing out on a book I should have grown up reading? What happened?! While it’s been a long journey in getting to this one, it was far more worth the wait than I could have imagined.

Today’s food for thought: Fantastic Mr. Fox.

Release: November 25, 2009

[Netflix]

One just has to wonder what this film might have been like had it been released much earlier, and had it been placed into the hands of someone other than the great Wes Anderson, for there is no denying that while this is a Roald Dahl story, the film product is the epitome of Wes Andersonian filmography.

Where does one start to review a film as mesmerizing as this? There’s a myriad of things that work for this stop-animation comedy that deals with a particularly clever fox who can’t help but revert to his animalistic ways by stealing chickens from farmers. One of the more logical places to start might be the animation itself. As noted in previous throwbacks, Dahl’s children’s books were infused with a palpable sense of danger and all possessed considerably dark thematic elements that distinguish his style.

While the decision to use this amusing form of animation does help to soften some of the more adult concepts presented, stop animation in many other ways enhances the peculiarities of Dahl’s visions. From the way these animals and critters move — sometimes at hilarious speeds — to the personalities the animation endows each one of them with, one can only hope Dahl might have approved of this rather modern adaptation (he hated the way Mel Stuart brought Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory to life on-screen).

MV5BMTgyNzYzNDAwM15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzY3MTk4Mg@@._V1__SX640_SY720_

Good old Bill, getting into the proper. . .head space. . .for his role.

Currently having the distinction of being the most contemporary/recent adaptation of any Roald Dahl book, Fantastic Mr. Fox just as easily should be recognized for possessing one of the most stacked casts doing impressive voice over work in an animated feature. Those who dropped whatever they were doing and ran to join Anderson’s side this time around include George Clooney as Mr. Fox; Meryl Streep as Mrs. Fox; Willem Dafoe as the Rat; and Adrien Brody as the Field Mouse. Of course, there are the Anderson regulars: Bill Murray joins as Badger, Fox’s lawyer; Jason Schwartzman gets grumpy as Ash, the Fox family’s youngest cub; brother Eric Anderson voices Kristofferson, Ash’s strange cousin; and Owen Wilson has a brief albeit humorous turn as Coach Skip, an athletic trainer at Ash’s school. With names like this dominating an extensive cast, the film instantly gets deeper. Nevermind the intelligent script and the delightful little story.

George and Meryl give the foxes unforgettable personalities as two adventurous foxes who once got a kick out of stealing chickens from farmers, but when Felicity tells the mister about being pregnant, it’s clear they have to find a new, safer way of living. With Ash around now, the family must settle into life in a hole, although Mr. Fox knows he can provide better for his family. He wants to move them into the giant tree they’ve been living underground by for twelve (fox) years. Unable to suppress his animal instincts, he starts eying three infamously dangerous and hostile farms, overlooked by some truly nasty men, eying them on a daily basis to see how many chickens he can afford to get away with stealing. He just can’t let the wife know, though.

So he enlists the help of an awkward fellow named Kylie Sven Opossum (voiced by Wallace Wolodarsky), and his nephew (since Kristofferson has proven himself a valuable asset to this mission, a fact that does not sit well with son, Ash) in his quest to do one last big job. In three nights, the pair snatch a couple of birds from the farms and attempt to make off with some alcoholic cider brewed by the meanest of the lot — the turkey and apple farmer, Frank Bean. Naturally, things go awry and the trio incur the wrath of these farmers who will stop at nothing to rid their farms and the town of these pesky animals.

Over the course of an hour and a half, journey into the gold-tinged world of Wes Anderson and company as the brilliant Fox makes moves to intentionally help those who he loves the most while also making mistakes that unintentionally endanger the entire population of the local animal community. Watch as the farmers employ increasingly hostile tactics to sniff out the foxes from the holes into which they have tunneled deeply and watch as they hilariously fail more often than they succeed. The entire experience is something of a revelation if you have never seen a stop-animation film before; although the film makes such good use of it that even if this kind of artistry isn’t your cup of tea, you’ll still find yourself grinning ear-to-ear thanks to an intelligently drafted script and well-defined characters.

Anderson’s adaption is an achievement. Its Oscar nominations were rightfully earned (damn you, Up). Not only is the story completely immersive, characters this endearing are rare to find, even by Pixar standards (the fact that this is not one of their creations frankly makes the film feel that much more original). The voice work is note-perfect for every character, with Clooney leaving the most lasting impression, while Murray’s character makes badgers everywhere look decent.

Recommendation: A wonderful, wonderful little gem of a film, Fantastic Mr. Fox‘s biggest accomplishment is having universal appeal. There’s arguably more that satiates mature viewers’ desires to see the world recreated in more simplistic terms than a child’s wanting to see a fox talking and burrowing tunnels at insane speeds. Those things are good too. Not only is this a great family film, it’s a timeless classic. Fans of Wes Anderson obviously have almost no excuse for missing this one, either. (How crazy is this, by the way? We are now 3-for-3 for perfect scores in the month of January. . .so much for unbiased reviews, right?)

Rated: PG

Running Time: 87 mins.

Quoted: “Am I being flirted with by a psychotic rat?”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.ramweb.org; http://www.imdb.com

TBT: James and the Giant Peach (1996)

Posted on January 9, 2014 by Tom

This originally was going to be a randomly selected movie from the 90’s as my TBT of this week; as it turns out this also marks my second review of a Roald Dahl-adapted movie. Hooray for coincidences! Ah, this was such a childhood favorite . . . (apologies for the forthcoming gushing, which will be uncontrollable and overwhelming).

Today’s food for thought: James and the Giant Peach.

Release: April 12, 1996

[VHS]

Few films can offer up the prospect of escaping from reality quite like animated films, and especially animated children’s book adaptations. And especially-especially when said adaptations involve the imaginings of Roald Dahl. With Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory being covered last week, it seems only fitting to rave on about a second successful translation of Dahl’s magical adventures to the big screen.

The man tasked with recreating this story of a gigantic peach that a child uses to escape his oppressive home life is also responsible for The Nightmare Before Christmas, Henry Selick. Why shouldn’t this eccentric, at times creepy, yet ultimately heartwarming fantasy endear as well?

James, as we all know, is this little innocent kid but whose been tragically orphaned by a remarkably horrible shopping outing in London, wherein both of his parents got eaten by an escaped rhino from the local zoo. (Lest I forget to mention it at all, I’ll bring it up now. The description of ‘children’s book’ is a relatively loose term when talking about Dahl’s writing; he employs a dark humor and a much bleaker undertone to most of his books than many other authors tend to, for obvious reasons. It easily distinguishes Dahl as one of the more unique authors of the day.) Since being orphaned, James is now forced to live with his downright despicable aunties; two witches who abuse and neglect the boy on a daily basis — Aunt Spiker (Joanna Lumley) and Aunt Sponge (Miriam Margolyes).

When a miraculous peach begins to grow on their hardscrabble, cliffside property and winds up becoming a peach the size of their house, the aunts are quick to capitalize by absorbing all the media attention and publicity they could possibly get. Meanwhile, life has become more or less intolerable for James and one night he sneaks out and explores this alien fruit. He discovers he can actually get inside of it. When he does, he finds something he never would have expected: giant insects inhabiting the peach. After getting trapped in a web spun by the huge Spider (Susan Sarandon), its not clear if what James is shocked by is the size of these bugs or the fact that they can all speak English. No matter, he calms down and introduces himself. Soon, they hatch a plan to escape from this wretched cliffside, using the peach as their life raft of sorts.

The ensuing adventure sticks into the young, impressionable viewer’s mind like a picket fence in a giant peach as it tumbles away from the evils of Aunt Spiker and Sponge. Along the way, this fierce band of rather silly, egotistical but generally good-natured bugs, spearheaded by the confident James, run into some obstacles that constitute one of Burton’s most inspired narratives ever. His recreation of this mechanical shark-thing in the ocean is not only exciting but just bizarre. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

James and the Giant Peach is filled with strange encounters that bring out the best and, often just as easily, the worst in each of these odd characters. Highlights on most viewers’ lists just have to include Centipede’s ~~brave~~ borderline suicidal exploration of a pirate ship sunken in frozen waters; the battle with the cloud-rhino — a weather phenomenon towards the end of their journey that manifests James’ most primal fear; and all throughout the film, between each ridiculous event, the humorous and insightful banter that primarily occurs between the idealistic Grasshopper and the clumsy and more selfish, although still likable, Centipede. The fact that all of this takes place on one gigantic fruit exponentially increases the fun.

Despite the film’s reluctance to stick to the novel’s particulars — this has been an issue for many of the works adapted to the screen for Dahl, personally (he absolutely despised the way Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory turned out) — the movie pretty accurately renders the characters as charming and memorable as they were in the book.

Perfect voice talent helped to ensure that. The bugs, instead of making you want to traditionally smatter them across the screen using your windshield wipers, pop off the screen — each one endowed with vibrant, distinct personalities. Richard Dreyfuss’ Centipede is hands-down the best of the lot here; then there’s the wizened old Grasshopper (Simon Callow) who imparts his knowledge and experiences upon the rest and, again, is the perfect little ego-check for Centipede (these two have a repartee that’s necessarily in the same hilarious company as that of Woody and Buzz, or Timon and Pumbaa). We have also the delicate Ladybug (Jane Leeves) who is cute and harmless (if they made an evil lady bug or even one with ulterior motives, I think I would be upset); and David Thewlis provides a little color in the background with his Earthworm, though he’s admittedly the most forgettable of the crowd.

James and the Giant Peach is a tremendously effective mix of the adventure element with some rather grown-up material. As a miserably abused orphan, James’ story is hardly a happy one, but of course he is destined for a much more pleasant life after he escapes the clutches of his aunts. When the peach makes its iconic entrance into Manhattan after traveling all the way from England, not even the absurdly off chance run-in with them on the streets below can tear James away from his newfound friends and, most importantly, family.

The conclusion is a little too tidy, but there’s no denying the appeal of all that had led up to the peach getting stuck atop the Empire State Building. While not remaining entirely faithful to the details of Dahl’s vision, Selick’s direction is effective, matured and hopefully will be the only associated with the film adaptation. Please, Hollywood, for once let us bathe in the experience of this lone adaptation and do not resort to unneeded remakes. Keep your hands off this peach!

Recommendation: Another solid translation of Roald Dahl’s bleak visions of different childhoods, the film version of a young boy who discovers some magic in a very desperate time which allows him to escape his current circumstances is at once dated, timeless, tragic and uplifting. I’m not sure how many have not seen this movie by now, but if you haven’t, it’s a must-see for Tim Burton fans and especially for fans of adventure films. This is a sterling example of imaginative storytelling.

Rated: PG

Running Time: 80 mins.

Quoted: “This is an outrage! You are a disgrace to your Phylum, Order, Class, Genus, and Spe. . . .”

“Say it in English!”

“You, sir. . .are an ASS!”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.imdb.com

TBT: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)

Posted on January 2, 2014 by Tom

Holy Gene Wilder, it’s an actual, legitimate “throwback” post for once! 😀 (Yes, this is not that new Johnny Depp remake, the one that looks more like a horror movie.) This one currently stands as the oldest film I’ve reviewed so far but it might also strike a second landmark as being one of my all-time favorite films and one I hold in highest regards. This loyal adaptation of Roald Dahl’s beloved children’s novel (Charlie & the Chocolate Factory), in my quiet opinion, epitomizes classic cinema. You cannot have a list of the greats and not have this title on it, it’s that simple. This fascinatingly bizarre tale of kids touring an eccentric candyman’s factory likely has gathered dust at home because, well let’s face it, there’s just a ton of other really great films from the era, enough for this title as well as many others to be easily obscured. But here I am going to jot down a list of reasons what makes this one of the best children’s book adaptations of all time, hopefully shaking some of that dust off those video cassettes in the process for those reading at home.

Today’s food for thought: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Release: June 30, 1971

[VHS]

So this is going to be a fairly difficult task: condensing my favorite elements of this wholly satisfying movie into a Top Ten list. Yikes! That’s like going into Wonka’s factory and picking out your favorite candy. I figured we all know the way this story plays out by now so it would be a little redundant to simply summarize my thoughts on the film that way. (Well, the truth is. . .lists are just easier.) So without further ado, here’s the reasons why this should be the only Chocolate Factory movie ever made (this is in no particular order):

Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka is arguably the best example of a movie fully-realizing what a book only managed to create mere sketches of in the mind of the reader. In the eyes of a viewer, the great and unpredictable Mr. Wonka is brought to life in all his whacky glory, and Wilder could not have been a better fit.
Bringing the Oompa-Loompas to life was an aspect to this story that director Mel Stuart did not fudge. (Cute pun, I know.) Each of these curious little. . . . . guys. . . . .added such an air of mystery and fantasy to the movie, and may also have been a superior version to whatever we may have pictured for ourselves while reading Dahl’s book.
The moment Charlie discovers he has found one of the five Golden Tickets goes down as one of the most joyous, genuinely heartwarming moments of any film. The song he sings as he skips merrily down the street, carelessly getting in the way of whatever (because he’s got a golden ticket), that’s pretty classic, too. We all know that no one deserved this opportunity more than the kind-hearted Charlie Bucket.
Mel Stuart’s film captures the beyond-desperately impoverished conditions within the Bucket household. But after learning of Charlie’s miraculous find, Grandpa Joe (Jack Albertson) leaps out of the bed to which he’s been confined by his ailments in his senior years. Charlie needs a chaperone for his tour of Wonka’s factory, so he asks old Joe if he’ll join in on the adventure. Another wonderfully moving moment. Meanwhile, everyone else remains in bed.
Peter Ostrum’s sole film performance as Charlie Bucket was again, perfect. (This seems to be shaping up to be some kind of rave post, doesn’t it?) Whether Ostrum was unable to find other roles after growing out of being a child actor, or that he wasn’t interested in film acting anymore is another matter entirely but in this movie he made one of the biggest impressions. He encapsulated the sweet innocence of this very poor kid, a kid with a much brighter future ahead of him.
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is nothing if not a role model for kids who are trying to do the right thing, who are well-behaved, good-mannered and amiable, instead of competing to be the most attention-grabbing, materialistic brats that they can be. The morality play at work is hard to ignore as we follow the group on Wonka’s tour of his factory. The film visually emphasizes the differences between someone like Charlie versus the other spoiled kids, multiple times over. Violet Beauregarde’s body turning into a giant blueberry perhaps remains the most vivid example of a kid failing to earn Wonka’s love and respect.
Who doesn’t appreciate a free boat ride, especially when it comes courtesy of Willy Wonka and his hard-working Oompa-Loompas? Hope no one gets scurvy too easily because the tunnel scene is one of the trippiest, most bizarre scenes in a film I’ve ever witnessed. Especially when I was a kid watching it. That chicken getting it’s head chopped off always got me. What freaked you out about this moment?
Perhaps the character that has shown just how much this film has aged is the obnoxious, television-obsessed Mike Teevee. I phrase it like that because still images of the kid who plays the part in the Tim Burton remake show that this kid is nothing more than a videogame-obsessed, future reality-TV addict who trades his kicks in with characters from a monitor rather than having real-life experiences. The original kid, though hardly more likable, seemed to be preoccupied with Westerns and cowboy shows on television, a comparably more “innocent” obsession. The essence of the problem is more or less the same, but the outlets have changed, clearly indicating the shift in technology and what that is doing (and is going to do) to kids present and future.
Even despite the fizzy lifting drinks incident, Wonka decides that his search for a perfect successor has indeed ended, with Charlie Bucket being the most deserving kid to take over the chocolate factory. The second book in the series, Charlie & the Great Glass Elevator may not have been quite as classic as its predecessor, but the way in which this film ends perfectly captures this transformative moment in this kid’s life and proves that truly good things come to those who wait.
Few films can match the fantastical spectacle that is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. From the many classic numbers that permeate this fanciful tale of a poor kid going from rags to riches (but not in the way you typically think of); to the visual splendor of the set pieces (Wonka’s factory is brought to life in ways that Tim Burton wished he didn’t destroy with his version); to the performances, this is a film for the ages.

Recommendation: Featuring a childlike wonder unparalleled in many films of its day and in movies that have tried to duplicate the magic, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is an incredibly charming, unique production that somehow manages to find ways of transcending its strong source material. Not only that, but every time one watches this film, they are instantly transported back to a time of innocence that no longer seems to exist. A wonderful, wonderful movie.

Rated: G

Running Time: 98 mins.

Quoted: “Time is a precious thing. Never waste it.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.imdb.com

Thomas J

My Journey Through Film

Tag Archives: #roalddahl

The Little Prince

The BFG

Genre Grandeur – The BFG (1989) – Digital Shortbread

TBT: The B.F.G. (Big Friendly Giant) (1989)

TBT: Matilda (1996)

TBT: Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

TBT: James and the Giant Peach (1996)

TBT: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)