THE WILD ROBOT movie review

Wildly heartfelt and uplifting! Universal and DreamWorks Animation’s The Wild Robot is among the best films of the year, period. Director Chris Sanders delivers a truly compelling and smartly written fish-out-of-water story about found family and being more than the sum of our parts–or programming. Easily on track to make my Top 10 Films of the Year list. Based on the book by the same name, DreamWorks Animation hits a homerun with this outstanding animated motion picture that will challenge you, thrill you, and tug at your heartstrings.

Shipwrecked on a deserted island, a robot named Roz must learn to adapt to its new surroundings. Building relationships with the native animals, Roz soon develops a parental bond with an orphaned gosling.

I’ll admit it up front, I cried. It really is such a beautiful animated motion picture that likely rocketed its way into my best films of the year list. Not since The Iron Giant have we had an animated motion picture with such gravitas. While I still feel that 2016’s Kubo and the Two Strings remains the best animated motion picture in the last ten years, I must say that The Wild Robot is solidly my No.2 pick. The strength of this picture is in the compelling story, relatable characters, and efficient plotting (sometimes a little too efficient). My only real negative criticism of the film is the pacing in the first act; while refreshingly lean, some scenes and sequences needed a little more room to develop and breathe. Even though The Wild Robot shares little in common with The Iron Giant‘s plot, it shares Iron Giant‘s heart and soul.

Fish-out-of-water premises have been a staple of cinema for nearly as long as films have been around. So the real challenge for writers and directors is to find original ways of expressing these foundational ideas. And what is precisely what we have in this film. There are actually three fish-out-of-water narratives within the film, and the film is better for them because each of these layers adds personal and interpersonal complexities to character relationships with the world in which they finds themselves and amongst each other. The films provides thoughtful commentary on what it is like to both be in a world that is unfamiliar and have unfamiliar tasks thrust upon oneself.

Furthermore, this film depicts the importance of adapting to one’s environment and overcoming obstacles, even those that are innate. I also appreciate what the film has to say about self-determination and taking personal responsibility for one’s circumstances and one’s mistakes. Fish-out-of-water stories are some of the most relatable, because we have all been placed in an unfamiliar environment, and know how that can feel. It’s a terrifying prospect to be dropped into a world that is alien to us, and the film does not shy away from the challenges, joys, and even the tragedies that can befall us.

Another narrative area of strength in the film is challenging us not to quickly pass judgment on that fish-out-of-water when they find themselves in your world. Or to presume that one’s past behavior is always an indication of how that person (or animal, as it were) will always behave. Yes, past behavior can indicate predisposition to moral and ethical aberrations, but that does not mean that redemption is not to be considered a possibility. I love how the film paints a portrait that we can change, if we have the will and support to do so. It rarely comes naturally, we have to work at it. We have to work at overcoming natural behaviors that may not be constructive and ultimately selfish. We are more than the sum of our parts–or our programming.

To a lesser extent, there is come social commentary on the relationships between the work place and the employee and even cultures that decry the individual in exchange for group think. Without getting into spoilers, the film depicts imagery of how some, if not many, companies treat and feel about their employees. How a company does not view the employee as an individual; rather, as a means to an end, just another cog in the machine that will be disciplined for any individuality or unique expression. But not before the company assimilates the knowledge of that employee, particularly those that do think outside the box. Difference will not be tolerated. That is the feeling of many companies and even governmental systems. The film challenges these ideas by showing cooperation between diverse groups, even groups that are naturally enemies. Furthermore, the film demonstrates how differences can be overcome or even set to the side in order to serve, protect, and survive.

Lastly I’d be remiss not to touch on the global idea of the film, which is the concept of found family. Throughout the entire film there are images of the important role one’s found family fills in life. Found family is that family-like unit that may not be blood-related, but very much fill the same role as a more traditional family in one’s life. It’s a group of friends that have a relationship that goes beyond typical friendship, and includes family-like dynamics. Sometimes these are formed because someone feels rejected or neglected by their real family, and find family with a close group of friends. Other times, and I’d venture say most of the time, a found family can be formed out of the significant distance between you and your family of origin. So when in a new place because of school, work, or even military transfer, it’s important to form a strong bond with friends (or a friend’s family) to fill that important role even when separated from one’s family of origin. We are creatures that have an innate need for connection and companionship.

I cannot recommend The Wild Robot enough! Don’t miss seeing this incredible animated motion picture on the big screen.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

Disney’s WISH movie review

Disney should’ve wished upon a star for a better screenplay. But hey, at least we have an actual villain again! Wish attempts to be a return to the classic Disney animated feature form, but it fails to recapture the magic. Still, there are glimpses of that former Disney magic that are encouraging, and perhaps it’s a sign of what is to come in the next few years. And I am talking about the hand-drawn inspired matte-like backgrounds. Unfortunately, the CG cast and foreground elements detract from the magic of that classic Disney animation. Suffice it to say, the dichotomy of animation styles is distracting. Wish doesn’t have so much a story idea problem as it does a plotting and story execution problem, which plagues this movie. Moreover, what the movie lacks in thoughtful plotting, it strives to make up for in the musical numbers–forgettable as they may be. Most likely, the movie won’t be remembered for its story per se, but rather for the setups for future animated classic remakes as Wish is the origin story for the Disney wishing star. To that end, there are a couple of hidden Mickeys and moderately subtle nods to other Disney characters; and these nods are tastefully handled until they are not–and incredibly overt to the point of being obnoxious.

Young Asha makes a wish so powerful that it’s answered by a cosmic force, a little ball of boundless energy called Star. With Star’s help, Asha must save her kingdom from King Magnifico and prove that when the will of one courageous human connects with the magic of the stars, wondrous things can happen.

Even though I have many reservations in the execution of this movie, I admire it for the originality in creating an origin story for THE Disney wishing star, which we first witness in Disney’s Pinocchio. And the rest is history. This same star guides Peter Pan to Never Never Land, Cinderella wishes upon it, and so many more characters. To the screenwriters’ credit, the idea for Wish is a refreshing turn from the direction Disney movies (live action and animated) have been going for years now. All the building blocks for a great story and plot are there, but it’s as if the builders of the story didn’t follow the architect’s plans as closely as they should have. Suffice it to say: great idea, poorly executed. The result is rushed character and plot development.

Something that Wish does mostly well: it represents the return of the classically-inspired Disney villain. And while Magnifico can’t hold a candle to Ursula, Maleficent, the Horned King, or even Yzma (my personal favorite Disney villain), he does fill the vacancy that has been present since after The Princess and the Frog (2009) and Tangled (2010). For thirteen years, we’ve needed a villain, and Magnifico has shown us why. Nevermind that he isn’t nearly as memorable as the aforementioned villains, but he demonstrates why it’s important for a movie to have a villain. Yes, I am aware that (1) it’s more accurately described as a character of opposition and (2) the villain needn’t be the bad guy. But, I digress.

We love villains that we love to hate, or villains that are the flip side of the coin to our central character. In fact the best villains have many of the same attributes as our hero, and maybe even some of the same goals, but their methods of achieving these warped goals are twisted. At its most basic level, a well-written movie has a central character, that central character has an external goal motivated by an internal need, and there is a character standing between the central character and his or her goal.

The plotting may be weak, but the subtext and theming are quite strong! The movie provides commentary on ideas such as socialism, censorship, and authoritarianism. Unfortunately, I cannot get into all the supporting material without venturing into spoiler territory, but I want to spotlight the commentary, because it works well. The movie clearly demonstrates that the censorship of ideas can lead to a loss of uniqueness and individuality. And even the ability to learn and grow as unique individuals. This parallels the tyrannical banning of books in our public schools being experienced by some states in our country, including the one from which I write this review. One thing that the history of the world has taught us is that anytime mass censorship (often government or other large institution-based) is exerted upon a people, the society becomes a prison for those that live in it. They, in essence, become entrapped in Plato’s Cave allegory.

It’s difficult to get into all the details of how the movie provides a negative critique on socialism, but this theme can be read in the dark side of lofty promises of government-provided housing, occupational, food, and other resources. For there is a cost–and a great one at that. In the movie, this cost is expressed through wishes and Magnifico’s reign over the Kingdom of Rosas. Even though all the characters were enjoying the freely available resources of Rosas, in the end, they realize that nanny-like state took away individualism and freedom of choice. In a movie landscape that is ever-so-more-regularly advocating the advantages of socialism, this movie is a testament to “be care what you wish for” because everything in life does come at a cost. For the Kingdom of Rosas, it was wishes, for you, it maybe something entirely different but no less important to your individuality and freedom of choice.

Lastly, I want to touch on the magic of those hand-drawn-inspired backgrounds. There are so many scenes in which the background looks straight-up like a matte painting, and I love it! I wish the entire movie looked hand-drawn; it wouldn’t fix the story execution or screenwriting issues, but it would have given the movie a more magical, almost tangible quality. Hand-drawn animation (and I will include stop-motion animation in this critique) has real dimension. With stop-motion animation, the dimension is in the objects and the lighting thereof; with hand-drawn animation, the magic is in the imperfections and motion.

Specifically looking at Golden Age through The Black Cauldron, the hand-drawn animation had literal depth because of Walt’s patented multiplane camera. Artists would draw onto glass panes, layer and space them, and the camera would shoot the linear image, giving the two-dimensional image depth of field. The hand-drawn-inspired backgrounds of Wish are encouraging because this may be a sign of what is to come for Disney animation. Unfortunately, the magic gets lost in this movie because of the distracting dichotomy of animation styles. It’s removes the characters from the background, from the world in which they live, and you never quite buy these characters are part of the setting.

Perhaps Wish suffers from story execution problems, but there is hope that Disney animation may be making a turn for the better.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES (2023) movie review

Cowabunga, you’ll have fun! Whether or not you grew up with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TMNT) 1980s animated television show, the comic books, or even the other movies, there is so much to be enjoyed in the new TMNT movie. At just over 1.5 hours, you’ll be invested in this Mutant Mayhem that functions as a standalone origin story, plus a foundation from which to launch subsequent sequels. While Shredder is not the villain, stick around for his subtle debut in a mid-credits scene.

After years of being sheltered from the human world, the Turtle brothers set out to win the hearts of New Yorkers and be accepted as normal teenagers. Their new friend, April O’Neil, helps them take on a mysterious crime syndicate, but they soon get in over their heads when an army of mutants is unleashed upon them.

Since I have not watched any TMNT shows or movies since the animated series in the 1980s, I can’t comment on what is or isn’t canon or what would or would not be, but I can say that from what I remember about the old show, this feels like a reimagination that is simultaneously fresh yet familiar. Perhaps some characters are interpreted differently for this movie than they have been in the past, but the character dynamics, conflict, and relationships make sense within this world. Nicely plotted and paced TMNT moves quickly and leanly–sometimes a little too leanly, but I digress. Most of the humor in the movie works well, but there is one recurring joke that does grow tiring to the point that the punch is less funny than it would have been had the joke been setup and developed more sleekly.

The movie is incredibly postmodern in the sense that the characters reference real life celebrities, TV shows, movies, etc. And while it was cute for a short while, the constant pop-cultural references grew a little tiresome. It’s like salt: fantastic in small amounts; unhealthy in large amounts.

I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, I cannot figure out why studios and writers insist on sprinkling in adult language in a movie that is undeniably geared towards kids (if for no other reason, it is released by Nickelodeon). Reminder: you do not need to include foul language (in however small amounts) in order for adults to watch…they are going to watch anyway, and maybe even be more inclined to introduce their kid(s) to the TMNT.

Suffice it to say, TMNT is a lot of fun, and if you’re looking for a throwback superhero movie with some heart, then I’ve no doubt that you’ll enjoy this movie.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE movie review

Oh, what a tangled web [they] weave…with this cacophony of story threads. The highly anticipated sequel to the Best Animated Feature Oscar-winning Into the Spider-verse opens this week, but unfortunately, it suffers from a bad case of sequelitis brought on by a gluttonous consumption of excess. Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse works in title only–and all too well, as it were. The title says it all, and that is precisely what audiences get in this comic philhar-tragic symphony in the key of overindulgence.

After reuniting with Gwen Stacy, Brooklyn’s full-time, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is catapulted across the Multiverse, where he encounters a team of Spider-People charged with protecting its very existence. However, when the heroes clash on how to handle a new threat, Miles finds himself pitted against the other Spiders. He must soon redefine what it means to be a hero so he can save the people he loves most.

Across the Spider-verse is what happens when a story idea doesn’t pass the elevator pitch litmus test (wherein an idea can be explained sufficiently enough in three-minutes or less). Quite simply, there is such a proliferation of story webs that there is virtually no plot–there is certainly no resolution before the (and this isn’t a spoiler) cliffhanger ending. Story webs lead into story webs that leads into even more story webs. Suffice it to say, it’s as if writers and producers took every incarnation of Spider-man comic series, threw them into a blender, and served the concoction o audiences. Unless you are read up on decades of Spider-man comics, you will be hard-pressed to follow any storyline. Perhaps the better expression of a collision of Spider-verses would have been in a television series that could have explored a different thread of comics each season.

Clearly, Sony took the extremely positive reception of the first one, focussed on recurring praises, and amplified those to the nth degree. Never mind that more than the visual expression of the story, plotting is crucial to structure, pacing, and coherency. The animators and artists are showcasing brilliance in animated filmmaking, but the clear evidence of screenwriting is nowhere to be found. Without a well-defined central character, a well-defined external goal, and a well-defined character of opposition between the central character and the goal, there is no plot–merely a sequence of loosely connected scenes or fragments of ideas. A fever dream, if you will.

While Across the Spider-verse suffers narratively, it certainly excels in the art of animation. The stylistic animation and editing is outstanding! Much like with the first movie, this one takes the emotive detail found in a single frame of a comic book (or graphic novel) and combines that approach with hand-drawn inspired motion picture animation. There are certainly problems with the story (or stories, as it were), but Sony Pictures Animation has demonstrably shown commitment to the boundless imagination and capabilities of animation. Across the Spider-verse, in how it is expressed in this movie, can only happen within the world of animation. In no way could this movie be expressed in a live-action way. Perhaps the writers were asleep at the wheel, but the animators gave each universe of Spider-man characters its own color palate and animation style.

Make sure to watch Across the Spider-verse in a premium format at your cinema, because the strength in this animated movie has little to do with the story as much as it does the stylistic animation. When a film, animated or live action, strikes a balance between style and substance, it can be enjoyed on the big or small screen without detracting from the storytelling; but when the movie struggles narratively but excels in form, then experiencing it on the big screen is the best approach.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S PINOCCHIO motion picture review

Positively avant-garde! Easily among the best pictures of the year, period. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio is a brilliant stop-motion picture that will stir the hearts and minds of any audience! In many ways it’s reminiscent of 80s dark fantasies such as The NeverEnding Story and The Dark Crystal. Which should come as no surprise that del Toro worked in collaboration with the Jim Henson Company. Audience will be completely transported to the post-World War I Italian world that del Toto meticulously recreates, complete with the fascist movement, which underscores much of the film. Not since Kubo and the Two Strings have we had such a gorgeous, imaginative animated feature film–a film that was robbed of its deserved and earned Beast Animated Film Oscar (no, Zootopia is in no universe a superior film). Let’s hope that the Mouse doesn’t rob Pinocchio of it’s well-deserved Academy Award for Best Animated Feature.

The story may seem familiar: A father’s wish magically brings a wooden boy to life in Italy, giving him a chance to care for the child. But you’ve never seen Pinocchio like this before!

Before you dismiss Del Toro’s Pinocchio as another soulless, cash-grab remake, this much more macabre version of the titular puppet’s story delivers immense depth and dimension. Not only of technical achievement, but of theme, plot, and character development. This animated film proves that animation isn’t only for kids, because this film is far more thoughtfully crafted than most live action films this ear. And yes, I agree with recent comments from Quintin Tarrantino that we are experiencing one of the worst eras of cinema in history. No doubt this is true. However, this year has seen some real winners such as Top Gun: Maverick and now Pinocchio. Suffice it to say, this is not your kid’s Pinocchio. And, although there are important life lessons in the film, it goes to places, both figuratively and literally, that may not be appropriate for kinds under 12 years of age. While Pinocchio is in its limited theatrical run, see it on the BIG screen!

While there are certainly plot beats which are shared by the original 19th century story, the 1940 Disney adaptation, the wretched Robert Zemeckis’ remake earlier this year, and countless stage adaptations (funnily enough, I saw the operetta Pinocchio this week as well), Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio takes on a life of its own. It isn’t often that the filmmaker added a possessive to the film title. Whereas it’s commonplace for Disney to add Disney’s… to literally everything, it’s uncommon for director’s or producers to add a possessive to the film’s title. Notable exceptions include Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas (directed by Henry Selick), Bram Stoker’s Dracula (directed by Francis Ford Coppola), and now Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio. This possessive form of title is often employed to signify (1) the filmmaker’s confidence in his or her work of motion picture art and (2) to separate it from all other versions of the same story (and/or title). Moreover, this often indicates to audiences that they are about to witness the work of a true auteur (not the case when we see Disney’s…–that’s just plain branding).

Is it del Toro’s arrogance or an ego trip that prompts such chutzpah in this film’s title? Not at all. Del Toro has been working on this passion project for over 15 years. Before you feel that’s an exaggeration, let the finished motion picture be the demonstrable evidence of meticulous work frame-by-frame in this nearly two-hour film. Images are most often captured at 25-frames-per-second, so to achieve the fluid motion del Toro has, you just do that math. Del Toro crafted intricate animation captured by a camera that is repeatedly started and stopped over the course of day, weeks, years. Each mouth, arm ear, eye, literally any object that has movement, is moves a little at a time, frame-by-frame. Not only does del Toro’s craftsmanship translate to beautiful, seamless movement by the characters and environment in the film, he successfully captures the visual and emotional miracles that can only be accomplished through stop motion animation. There’s a reason why we go back to the Rankin & Bass Christmas classics every year; there is immense simplicity and beauty in stop-motion animation. Why? Same reason why practical effects will always be superior to (overt) CGI effects–depth, dimension, the way real light bounces off objects and into the camera lens.

Even though the film is quite dark from the moment the atrocities of war are witnessed, it is not without its levity and uplifting scenes. To get into a central theme of the film involving stages of grief (which makes it unique compared to other iterations), would mean venturing too far into spoilers, which I would like to avoid, and with that theme, there are many scenes that force the audience to confront what many fear most. Because of this theme, one might think the film is somber most of of the time, and fortunately, this is not true. There are plenty of moments that break up the sadness to inject a healthy dose of laughter. And more often than not, we have Sebastian J. Cricket to thank for that! (I’m sure the “J” is a playful jab at Disney). DelToro’s sardonic, raconteur cricket always has the perfect witty remark or anecdote to provide insight into a given plot point or emotional beat. Because of Sebastian J. Cricket’s running commentary and moral/ethical guidance, the audience is willing to go on this emotional roller coaster. The moment of levity allow for an emotional and psychological reset to face the darker moments.

Outside of the imagery of the stages of grief, there are other fascinating areas of social commentary in the film as well. I love how del Toro moves the real boy imagery, how it’s traditionally interpreted: wood vs. flesh, to one that posits ideas of what it means to be a real man. These arguments are mostly seen in the Mussolini’s youth armies scenes. In the world of fascist Italy, to be a real man meant taking up the arms and creeds of Mussolini’s Italy to fight the allied forces. Pinocchio must decide what it means to be a real man. Another area that is interesting is the relationship between Geppetto and the village (Catholic) Church. While there may be various ways of interpreting this imagery and these scenes, which are bookends for the film, I feel it is best interpreted as Geppetto never compromising on his faith in God even though the Catholic Church, at that time in Italy, was being infiltrated by Mussolini’s fascist ideals (cleverly disguised to sway some in the faith community).

Lastly, we cannot talk about this film without highlighting the moving score and outstanding original songs. While Pinocchio is not a musical, it has several original songs that will move audiences! Not only does this film boast exquisite animation, but it delivers outstanding original music and lyrics as well. Audiences will find both diegetic and non-diegetic musical numbers in the film. This combination works incredibly well to wrap audiences in the mesmerizing story!

Even though Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio is coming to Netflix in December, look to see if it’s playing at theatre near you for the full experience!

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1