46. Chicken Little (2005)

After the embarrassing Home on the Range, Disney decided that traditional, hand-drawn animation had run its course and it was time to focus on fully computer animated features from now on; the first of these was Chicken Little, an attempt to modernise and spice-up the Disney formula. Chicken Little is probably the worst Disney movie ever made. There is so little to like about this movie and so much to hate that I scarcely know where to start; as always, I’ll do my best to approach the film’s animation, story, characters and music individually, but forgive me if this review begins to break down a little structurally, as Chicken Little is so mind-bogglingly bad that it is very difficult to stay calm and controlled when discussing it. With that in mind, let’s take a look!

Being Disney’s first fully computer animated movie since Dinosaur, you’d think Chicken Little would look a lot better, as the Disney animators had five years to improve their software, their techniques and realise what they did wrong with Dinosaur and how they could do things better. Somehow, Chicken Little looks a million times worse; Dinosaur’s animation was dull and dated, but at least still technically impressive for the time, Chicken Little’s animation is so inherently and definitively visually unappealing that I find it legitimately astounding that these animators were able to look at it so long without ever thinking ‘Hang on a minute THIS LOOKS FUCKING AWFUL.’ Some of the major characters have decent designs, but those of the townspeople are practically identical, to the point where it looks like the animators probably just palette swapped all the different models, like the programmers of a lazy video game. The characters have very sharp, sudden movements that do not fit Disney’s usual smooth and controlled style, a choice which betrays the nature of the entire film, which so obviously wants to be “edgier” than the usual Disney fare, in terms of animation and attitude, but is completely incompetent in its attempts to do so. The backgrounds are incredibly lazy, there is no accuracy, no attention to detail, no life or richness to the textures, it looks more like concept art than the finished product; it seems like the animators thought that if they just made the backgrounds jagged and stylised that would speak for itself and again, present a sense of “edginess”, but they are so unpolished that the characters look completely alien wandering around in them. Even the direction displays this bizarre attitude, with examples of shaky cam and sudden zooms which seem more at home in a Zack Snyder movie than a Disney one; everything about Chicken Little’s visual style wants to be hip and cool, but it all comes off as embarrassing and unprofessional.

This guy is called Morkubine Porcupine. 

That’s honestly probably the best the joke the movie has.
He is still not hip or cool.

Similarly, the film’s story desires to be edgy, clearly trying to copy the then-more successful DreamWorks, even more obviously than Home on the Range did; this is made clear straight from the opening, which mocks the traditional “Once Upon a Time” opening of fairytales, the storybook openings of early Disney films and even specifically the opening to The Lion King. Chicken Little shouts out from its first scene ‘Look at us! We’re different! We’re shaking things up!’ But its desperate attempts to distance itself from the classic Disney formula comes off as a mean-spirited dig at early Disney movies, as if to say they’re not cool or relevant anymore and Chicken Little is going to be something new and original that kids today will appreciate; the irony that this is so obviously copying DreamWorks – particularly Shrek, the opening scene of which is practically IDENTICAL to this one – is either completely lost on the writers, or, more likely, they just didn’t care. The entire film is plagued with this cancerous desire, resulting in an attitude towards humour which makes Home on the Range look like This is Spinal Tap; the movie is full of the worst kinds of pop-cultural references, where there is no joke, it’s literally just a reference and they expect the audience to be satisfied just because they can say ‘hey I get that!’ The sheer amount of contemporary pop songs alone is staggering, many of which are again, not thrown in for an appropriate joke, they just appear with no context, just because it’s a song they know the audience has heard. Not only that, but it really damages the setting and atmosphere, as these references feel completely out of place in this fantastical cartoon world; do the Spice Girls exist in the world of Chicken Little? Clearly, they must, which raises a lot of weird questions, makes no sense and, most importantly, severely dates the movie, in a way that classic and timeless Disney films like Bambi and Beauty and the Beast will never be. As well as relying too much on pop-culture references, the film’s sense of humour is just kind of nasty and mean-spirited, I’ll get into this more later when I talk about the characters, but so many of the film’s jokes come from making fun of Chicken Little and his friends and making them feel pathetic; it doesn’t feel like laughing with them, either, it genuinely feels like the writers are pointing and laughing at the unpopular heroes and encouraging you to join in and that’s something that absolutely doesn’t belong in a Disney movie.

The story and pacing are all over the place; the first five or so minutes introduce the initial conflict, that Chicken Little claims the sky is falling and no-one believes him, turning him into a laughing stock within the town. However, the next twenty-five minutes, which show Chicken Little’s attempts to regain popularity by becoming a baseball star, end up being almost completely inconsequential; half an hour in, when Chicken Little wins the big game and becomes the town hero, feels like the climax of an ordinary movie, but Chicken Little just keeps on going, with an entirely different plot about an alien invasion that comes out of nowhere. It quickly becomes very clear that the writers of this film had no idea how to adapt their initial concept into a full-length feature, so they just tack this story about Chicken Little playing baseball on to fill up time; even within this sub-plot, there are a number of montages, to fill even more time, displaying how hollow the central idea for Chicken Little really is, it feels so much more at home as a short than a full-length feature.

Oh come on that is literally just Donkey from Shrek LOOK AT HIM

Having never seen Chicken Little before now, I perhaps spoke a little prematurely last week when I said that Home on the Range’s cast is the most hateful in Disney history, as this one is truly reprehensible. The townspeople of Oakey Oaks are like those of Springfield in The Simpsons, constantly complaining, blaming others for their problems, scapegoating people, forming angry mobs or mass panic over trivial issues and generally just acting selfish and mean towards their fellow man. However, Chicken Little lacks any of the subtle irony, intellect or sense of humour necessary to make such an idea work without things becoming too cruel and to be honest, even if it did, I still don’t know that it should have; this isn’t The Simpsons, or South Park, it’s a kids’ movie and a Disney movie at that! Why are all these characters, who aren’t villains, but just normal people, so cruel and spiteful, especially towards Chicken Little, who they constantly treat like garbage? This is yet another one of the film’s attempts to be less like classic Disney, with darker and edgier humour and characterisation, but these characters are just TOO mean; it’s not funny, it’s sad. 

Chicken Little himself is the standard Disney hero archetype, a nice, ordinary guy who finds he has potential for great things, but with little else to him; there’s not much more to really say. Chicken Little’s father, Buck, is AWFUL; he’s embarrassed and completely unsupportive of his son and never defends him from the cruel mockery of the townspeople, repeatedly refusing to believe Chicken Little and clearly showing that the doesn’t care for the kind of person his son has grown into. Yes, he has character development and realises that he was wrong not to trust his son and to appreciate him for who he is, but he just starts off too gutless and distant to ever really redeem himself; the way he constantly puts his son down and shows disappointment in him is just depressing to watch and adds to the entirely negative attitude of the film. I almost admire Disney’s choice to tackle a difficult father-son relationship and to admit that family units are rarely perfect and often require hard work and communication, but that kind of storyline belongs in a much more mature and intelligent movie than this. Abby Mallard is the most generic female sidekick of all time – she’s smarter and more sensitive than the male characters, has a crush on the hero and exists to be his support and eventual love interest, that’s it; she and everything she represents is lazy and insulting. Runt is so annoying, he’s dumb and fat, that’s basically it, are you sensing a pattern here? They make the same gag with him over and over again and it’s never funny, he’s worthless. The alien characters are, admittedly, not too bad, with some interesting designs and a somewhat humorous dynamic, but they are not around nearly long enough to help the movie out in the long run. Some of these characters are just boring, most of them are despicable; I don’t want to see Chicken Little win the approval of these people like in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, they don’t deserve it, I want to see the aliens vaporise them permanently, they’re horrible.

‘Hey Dad, don’t you think the nature of our relationship is a little too depressing for this kind of movie?’

‘Not now son, I’m just thinking about how I’ll never forgive you for killing your mother in childbirth’

Like the last few Disney movies, Chicken Little employs standalone songs which play over the action rather than traditional musical numbers and if I wasn’t over it in Home on the Range (I was) then I am definitely over it now; so rarely does this idea work, I don’t understand why Disney did it so many times. They didn’t want to do musicals anymore? Fine, don’t do them, but why do this half-way bullshit, pick one or the other; instead, we have to listen to a number of laughably cookie cutter pop songs which have nothing to do with anything and are just there to waste time. Also, as I mentioned already, the film repeatedly inserts existing pop music, sometimes for a stupid joke but sometimes, again, JUST TO WASTE TIME; there is a scene where, for literally no reason whatsoever, Chicken Little’s friends sing karaoke to “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls. Why!? It has no bearing on what’s going on, no relation to the characters or the setting, no lyrical themes which reflect similar ones in the movie, it’s not even a good song! I honestly can’t even wrap my brain around these decisions, even when the songs are marginally better they do more harm than good; at the end of the movie they play “Aint’ no Mountain High Enough”, but that just made me think that I’d rather be watching Bridget Jones’ Diary than this – AND THAT’S SAYING SOMETHING.

Chicken Little is a film that’s as ugly on the inside as it is on the outside; it is mean-spirited, childish, disrespectful and lazy with a completely unwarranted sense of arrogance and complacency. If I had a gun to my head and had to say one nice thing about the film, it’d be that it gets a little more tolerable towards the end, but really, not by very much. None of the jokes feel genuine, it is clear that none of the writers actually cared about making people laugh, they just wanted to copy DreamWorks as much as they possibly could. The cast is fantastically unlikeable, the story utterly pointless, the music not even worth discussing and the animation impressively bad for a Disney movie; appropriate, considering that this film in no way feels like a Disney movie – not in style or tone, not in presentation, not in the amount of effort or care put in and not in attitude, as the film completely shits on its own company and its history of far, far superior movies that exist in an entirely different solar system of quality. That Chicken Little has the balls to make fun of The Lion King and Pinocchio is laughably pathetic and misguided; it’s like watching a 2ft quadruped threaten to beat up Mike Tyson, or that time Uwe Boll said that Postal would make more money in its opening weekend than Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Crystal Skull – all you can do is laugh. While I freely admit I’ve yet to see Meet the Robinsons or Bolt and Big Hero 6 has yet to be released, I find it very hard to believe that any of them will be as bad as this; Chicken Little constantly shouts about how new and interesting it is, but like its title character, nobody is buying what it has to say. 

1/10

Next Week: Meet the Robinsons!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds

45. Home on the Range (2004)

Home on the Range single-handedly killed Disney’s 2D animation department for five years and nearly spelled the end for all traditional, western animation; to be honest, to talk about it any further seems kind of redundant. Okay, okay, to be fair “single-handedly” is a little extreme, Disney had slowly been growing disillusioned with their traditionally animated films since the end of the Renaissance and the huge disappointment of Treasure Planet is really what started pushing them towards fully computer animated movies. With the subsequent disappointment of Brother Bear, it can be argued that the similarly poor reaction to Home on the Range was simply the final nail in the coffin for Disney’s traditionally animated films, but boy, what a big nail it was.

Regardless of how much it had to do with the decline of traditional animation, the animation in Home on the Range is hardly anything all that bad; things are smooth and detailed and everything you really come to expect from Disney, there’s nothing really all that wrong with it and there are some good sequences. However, the animation really lacks any sense of life or joy, it can be very over-the-top and kooky, but it all seems hollow and awkward, you can feel through the drawings that despite the time and effort they were putting into it, the animators didn’t really care about bringing these characters to life, so they fail to do so; the screen is populated with soulless husks who simply play their parts, rather than become truly immersed in them. This is especially strange, considering that Home on the Range seems to want to be a goofy, over-the-top comedy in the style of earlier Disney films, or, to a lesser extent, a slightly cuter version of The Emperor’s New Groove; why then, if the film is supposed to be fun and zany, is the animation so dull? It’s not like there isn’t a lot of exaggerated movement or cartoony expressions, or bright colours, or stylised character designs, but it just feels like something is missing; Home on the Range is like a sad clown, it walks out on stage and puts on its act with a smile on its face, but behind the scenes, it takes no joy in what it’s doing.

Yeah, this is a cool image. Well done guys

The story follows a trio of sassy cows who have to learn to work together to save their farm by defeating a flamboyant, yodelling cattle rustler. It’s as stupid as it sounds. Like all the worst Disney movies, Home on the Range’s greatest flaw is its reliance on filler, frequently diverting attention from its main “plot” to indulge in random, pointless scenes intended purely to stretch out the already short running time, displaying an utter lack of care for its story or characters. The film is paced awfully, it drops you into things way too quickly, without taking the proper time to establish its characters or setting and since it never stops jumping all over the place, it means that it can never take the time to really establish these things later, either; as a result, you never really care about what’s going on or who’s doing what. Though the film does establish its conflict – the farm the animals live on is going to be sold, so they have to raise money to save it – quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, it spends most of its running time meandering around this point, demonstrating how little confidence it has in its own story and ability to keep the audience invested through that alone, a justified concern, considering just how terribly this flimsy attempt for a story is handled. Like The Aristocats, Dinosaur and Brother Bear, the film effectively consists of a long journey that, instead of featuring interesting characters and situations along the way, just runs a single idea into the ground for as long as it can. However, unlike those movies, which end up feeling slow and empty, this feels way too fast and overstuffed, as rather than have almost nothing happen to its characters, way too much happens; the film is packed to the brim with stuff, it’s just that none of that stuff is relevant to the story OR entertaining on any level. Honestly, half the time I had to really take a look at what I was watching and actively question what was going on, so much stuff is completely random and makes no sense, the movie is way too hyperactive, with no sense of direction or purpose, it’s just a lot of stuff happening. Home on the Range seems to be under the impression that if it’s just weird and doesn’t make sense, it will labelled as having a “quirky” or “off-the-wall” sense of humour, like The Emperor’s New Groove, however, they fail to realise that unless they actually connect these scenes properly and write them with a level of competence, they aren’t going to ironically not make sense, they’re just not going to make sense.

Similarly, the film suffers from an incredibly juvenile sense of humour, again believing that as long as it has weird and “quirky” characters it can get away with not actually writing funny jokes or genuine character traits. Home on the Range seems to want quite desperately to be a DreamWorks animated movie, most likely as an attempt by Disney to compete with DreamWorks’ more offbeat and irreverent comedies which had begun to dominate the animated film market at this point; consequently, Home on the Range populates itself with gross “adult” humour which is actually very childish, such as burping, farting and boob jokes, incredibly lazy puns and nonsensical modern references. Even the musical score seems to be making fun of its terrible jokes, with loads of goofy sound effects accompanying the punch lines, seemingly commenting on how stupid these lines are; I can almost see Alan Menken in the recording studio thinking ‘How am I supposed to write a musical cue for a cow saying “yes they’re real” about its udders? I guess I just play a wah-wah effect because it’s so dumb? ...I need a new job.’ Whether or not Disney can ever pull off this “edgier” style is a matter of opinion, but I think it’s safe to say they definitively fail to do so in this instance. This hyperactive pacing and consistently obnoxious sense of humour means that there is almost never a quiet moment, the characters are constantly riffing or doing something stupid or the music is blaring, it just never stops and this quickly becomes exhausting and frustrating; the film doesn’t seem to understand the importance of taking a quiet moment to build atmosphere, or let a joke sink in, or develop genuine relationships amongst its characters. This means that even when the movie does provide a decent joke (few that there are), it walks all over the delivery and kills its own punch line; few movies are so masochistically self-destructive and Home on the Range seems so enamoured with its own ineptitude that it sabotages itself any time it might even produce a nanosecond of entertainment.

Yosemite Sam really let himself go

The cast of Dinosaur might be Disney’s most boring and undeveloped, but the cast of Home on the Range may be its most hateful. Our heroine, Maggie is little more than an annoying braggart, without any of the comedic possibilities; everything about her, from her facial expressions to her voice, is a pure and undiluted irritant, every time she speaks it makes my skin crawl. All she does is make stupid puns, complain about the other characters and act smug, she is entirely unlikeable. There is a painfully obvious attempt to make her “tough” and “cool” and give her a no-nonsense “attitude” so that she’s down with the kids!!!! (Another attempt at aping DreamWorks, specifically the character of Shrek) Why Disney thought kids would think, of all things, a chubby cartoon cow voiced by Roseanne Barr is cool, I have no idea; she is intolerable. Mrs. Calloway is a stuffy, joyless stick in the mud, like Zazu or Sebastian except without any of the likeability; she is a bore and a nuisance, who seems intent on making things even less fun than they already are, with her only endearing attribute being that she seems to dislike Maggie as much as I do. Grace is the closest the film has to a likeable character, in that she’s just kind of friendly and nice and is voiced by Jennifer Tilly, who just possesses an inherent charm; she doesn’t have anything else to her, no, but at least she isn’t insanely annoying like the others. In most Disney movies, the dull, friendly character is the least interesting, being flanked by a group of more fun and lively side characters; the fact that Grace is the most watchable character of the movie speaks volumes to how charmless this cast is. 

Besides the main trio, there is Buck, a stupid, narcissistic horse who wants to become a hero of the frontier but proves himself completely inept at every turn; this is honestly a legitimately funny idea for a character and there are all sorts of humorous situations he could get into, parodying classic western stars like Clint Eastwood or John Wayne. Instead, Buck is, like all the other characters, an unsuccessful DreamWorks rip-off, effectively just being a meaner and impossibly, even more irritating version of Donkey from Shrek. With his performance, Cuba Gooding Jr. seems to be channelling Chris Tucker, while doing a vocal impression of Chris Rock (he almost seems to predict Rock’s terrible zebra character from the Madagascar series); Buck is a rehash of a character type that was, depressingly, all too common in the early 2000’s, in films such as the aforementioned Shrek, as well as things like the Rush Hour series. In any other movie, the goofy, yammering, little sidekick, Lucky Jack, would be “The Hooter”; in this one, he’s par for the course. Do I really need to say anymore? Alameda Slim is, surprise, surprise, an entirely unimpressive and pathetic villain, being played as deliberately silly and comical rather than threatening, but without any of the necessary qualities to you know, ACTUALLY BE FUNNY. He’s not even in the movie very much but when he is, he adds absolutely nothing of value, comedic or otherwise; plus, he kinda looks like Ratcliffe, which is never a good thing.

Samurai Buck

Following the format of the last few films, most of the songs here aren’t traditional musical numbers, they’re just songs sung over the action; unlike most of the last few films, however, the songs here feel completely unnecessary, they do not exist to actually add anything to the movie, they are just there to fill time. Unsurprisingly then, little to no care is put into any of these songs, whose very existence demonstrates how few ideas Disney had for this movie. The only legitimate musical number the movie has and the only one that ties in at all to narrative or characterisation is “Yodel-Adle-Eedle-Idle-Oo” (it hurt me to even write that), a villain song which is just... dumb. There is at least an attempt to have some clever lyricism, but this is abandoned quickly as the songwriters clearly lacked enough wit or imagination to continue; in fact, any sense of creativity is abandoned, as it stops being an original song and just becomes the villain yodelling to famous classical pieces, that’s how lazy this song is. This number comes out of nowhere, doesn’t fit the tone of the situation whatsoever and goes as soon as it came, with little acknowledgement to how bizarre and ill-fitting it was, as if it never happened at all. To cut a long story short, it stinks.

I don’t even know where to start with this one, other than to say that there is almost nothing whatsoever to like about it. The animation isn’t technically bad and some of the jokes have a good conception, but bad follow through; that’s honestly all the positivity I can muster for this strange and stupid movie. The pacing is terrible, the characters insufferable, the music superfluous, the humour nauseating; this movie is simply unpleasant. Is it quite as bad as its reputation suggests? Probably not, but at the end of the day it’s extremely easy to see why this miserable failure of a comedy did so much damage to Disney’s already waning reputation, it’s a complete mess.

2/10

Next Week: Chicken Little!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds

44. Brother Bear (2003)

After the enormous disappointment of Treasure Planet, Disney desperately needed a hit, something to remind audiences who they were, what they were capable of and that their era of creativity didn’t end with the Renaissance; unfortunately, all they offer was Brother Bear. Though significantly more commercially successful than Treasure Planet, Brother Bear received an even more savage critical reception, dismissed for its lacklustre story and tendency to copy other, more successful Disney films. Though largely remembered as a bit of a joke today, Brother Bear is not a film without merit, as it does have a few good points.

The first thing to note about the visual style of the movie is that it changes about twenty-five minutes in – the first act of the movie is smaller in scale, with less complex environments, muted colours, rounded, but relatively simple character designs similar to those of the human characters in Lilo & Stitch and a more relaxed, realistic use of animation. However, once Kenai is transformed into a bear, the film shifts into anamorphic widescreen, looking much wider and grander, with very bright colours, sweeping, detailed environments and much livelier, more personable designs for the animal characters; I must say, this is an interesting move which makes sense within the context of the story and helps to show off just how much effort was put into the visuals. The colours are the film’s greatest asset, they are so vibrant and rich they practically leap off the screen and when combined with the detailed character designs and wonderful backgrounds, they make a picture that’s more than easy on the eyes. Though computer animation is present, it’s thankfully not as omnipresent as it was in Treasure Planet and much more focus is placed on the beautiful hand drawn characters and environments; Brother Bear might not do anything experimental or revolutionary with its animation, but it’s hard to deny how good it looks.

An appropriate response to being with this kid, to be honest

The story is regrettably a little lacking in comparison, especially in terms of novelty; it is effectively the story of The Emperor’s New Groove, but played seriously, rather than for comedy – an irresponsible and flawed young man learns the value of love, patience and companionship after he is transformed into an animal and forced to befriend those that he previously looked down upon, shaking his preconceived notions about the world. Additionally, the idea of nature being interconnected and everything being part of the Circle of Life has been addressed before in Pocahontas and The Lion King, as has the examination of life in nature from a different perspective and the possibility that it might be man who is the true monster, in Bambi. Most of the film’s story borrows far too liberally from previous Disney movies and it doesn’t tackle any of these ideas differently or better enough to really warrant this. It doesn’t do so with nearly the same level of delicacy or maturity either, showing nature as a perfect wonderland where all animals get along and have a good time, where bears can be friends with chipmunks and man is the only enemy, in stark contrast to the harshly realistic depiction of the natural world in Bambi; Brother Bear is too childish and unrealistic in its delivery to incorporate such complex ideas.

Other than that, the narrative is rather flimsy and uneventful, it’s just a long walk from one spot to another, like in Dinosaur (yet another earlier Disney movie it takes from) and just like in that movie, very little actually happens to our heroes along the way, so the film is full of long, boring segments with no real action. This would be forgivable if the movie took these long, quiet segments as opportunities to develop the relationship between the main characters but, as I’ll address more later, they don’t really do this either; the writers don’t really seem like they knew what they wanted to do, it seems that they had a good idea for the beginning and ending of the movie, but had no idea how to fill the middle, so just stretched a couple of scenes out for as long as they could.  Even when the film does get going and give us meaningful interactions between the characters, they can often be a little schmaltzy and overemotional; to be honest, we have seen much worse from Disney, but Brother Bear’s writing is too uninspired and its themes too obvious.

Moose goofs

With such a thin plot, this is the kind of movie that depends heavily on its characters to keep things entertaining, but the cast here is just as thin as the story which surrounds them. Kenai does have a bit more personality than some Disney protagonists, but this doesn’t make him especially likeable; the central arc of the movie is his development from an arrogant and stubborn boy who unfairly hates bears into a more mature and understanding man who realises that all living things deserve our respect and kindness. Though a perfectly reasonable concept for a central character, this means that, prior to this change in perspective, Kenai unfortunately spends a lot of the movie as a grumpy, unfriendly killjoy and since this isn’t a comedy, it can’t be over exaggerated and played for laughs in the same way that Kuzco’s personality can, meaning that for much of the movie, Kenai isn’t easy to warm up to, a big problem for a film that is so centred around its main character. Koda is annoying, granted he is supposed to be, but that doesn’t make him any less annoying; he’s a lazy child character, hyperactive, chatty, overly cutesy, there just really isn’t any substance to his character whatsoever. Koda exists purely as a plot device to guide Kenai to the mountain and, ultimately, show him that he was wrong to hate bears and that there is more to them than he thinks. The most important part of the film should be the relationship between Kenai and Koda, how they grow to care about and understand one another, despite their differences; however, as I said before, the development of this relationship is lacking, being mostly skipped over through a couple of song montages, as Kenai goes from finding Koda insufferably annoying to suddenly considering him his brother. This shift in perspective is abrupt and doesn’t feel genuine or earned, leaving Koda feeling like more of a prop than an actual character and what is supposedly the film’s most important aspect feeling hollow and incomplete.

The two Moose (Mooses? Meese? I dunno) are fairly unfunny comic relief, they are close to being “The Hooters” of the film, but aren’t quite  annoying or unhelpful enough to really qualify. They aren’t as harmful as they could be and at times Rick Moranis’ delivery can crack a smile, but they are just so disconnected from the other characters and the story; every time they have a scene, it’s just to play goofy dialogue off each other to keep the kids entertained, to put in the trailer and to drag out the running time, their scenes don’t have any connection to the story at large and they barely even interact with the other characters, so they just feel like filler. This is the third Disney film in a row to not really have a real villain, as once again, the “bad guy” is simply a normal person who finds himself in conflict with the heroes and eventually sees the error of his ways. In this case it is Kenai’s brother, Denahi, who finds himself consumed by rage and vengeance after he believes Kenai was killed by a bear and embarks on a quest to kill the bear at any cost, not knowing that the bear he is hunting is actually Kenai himself. To the film’s credit, this is handled very well; Denahi makes only a few appearances after Kenai is transformed, but every time he does, things quickly become very tense, giving him a presence which inspires genuine fear and apprehension in the characters and, to some extent, the audience. His slow descent into rage and hatred is shown nicely by the subtle changes in his animation, as he gradually grows more unkempt and dishevelled, his facial expressions become hard and cold and his eyes dark and brooding. Though by now the idea of an antagonist who is not necessarily a villain is not a novel one and the idea of man as an oblivious monster in the eyes of the animal kingdom has been explored in Bambi and, to a lesser extent, The Fox and the Hound, Brother Bear still does a perfectly fine job of it, this being one the few things it actually does really well.

Denahi looks kinda like young Shan-Yu, is this in the same universe as Mulan!?!
Someone call Buzzfeed right now this is breaking news!!!!!!!!!!!

Brother Bear is not a standard musical, as the songs are simply sung over the action to narrate what’s going on and describe the thoughts and feelings of the characters, in the same way as in Tarzan, which is unsurprising, considering Phil Collins wrote most of the songs for this film as well. The opening song, “Great Spirits”, sets the tone, as a laughably goofy and over-the-top number lacking in any sense of atmosphere or subtlety; things are basically the same from then on. “On My Way” is also corny and goofy, very much in the same style as the songs from Tarzan, but also in the same way as those, it’s charming just how silly it is; I know it’s not a very good song, but I like to listen to it anyway. “Welcome” is also lame and silly, but without any of the charm, it’s just pretty bad. Finally, “No Way Out” is similar to “You’ll Be in My Heart” from Tarzan, a slow and overly sentimental song that just pushes the level of corniness too far, even for Phil Collins; though this tone is appropriate for the scene it plays over, the song is so goofy that it draws you out of the moment and does more to take away from the film’s mood than to add to it. This is a small and weak collection of songs, but the musical score is much better and fits the tone and setting of the film perfectly, salvaging a lot of the slower moments in the story by giving you something to listen to, even if there isn’t much to look at.

Brother Bear is an okay movie, forgettable, but nothing all that bad. Stylistically, it's a strong effort, as its colours and backgrounds look gorgeous and the music (if not the actual songs) works in tandem with the visuals to create a powerful sense of setting and life. Unfortunately, it is the main substance where the film falters; its story is unoriginal and flat – when you really think about it, not much happens at all, making it very hard for it to keep you engaged – and the characters are dull and not particularly likeable, with their interactions feeling too brief and unnatural. Despite some impressive visuals and a nice message, Brother Bear is mostly a bit of a bore and certainly not the hit that Disney so greatly needed.

5.5/10

Next Week: Home on the Range!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds

43. Treasure Planet (2002)

In the same year as Lilo & Stitch, Disney released their third sci-fi themed film in a row, Treasure Planet, an adaptation of the classic novel Treasure Island, which the action transplanted into space, rather than the high seas. At this point, it became clear that Disney was slipping further and further away from what had made them so universally popular again, as Treasure Planet was yet another financial disappointment, becoming the biggest box office bomb in the Disney animated canon. Though the film was not without merit, a few glaring problems make it pretty easy to see why Treasure Planet didn’t do so well.

The animation is good, though rarely anything better than that; the character designs, particularly those of the few human characters, are done in a very conventional Disney style, similar to those of the Renaissance, particularly Tarzan – the aliens do all look very different and nobody looks especially bad, but there are no stand-out designs either. One of the film’s greatest faults, unfortunately, is its huge overreliance on computer animation; Disney has proved with its last couple of films that they are more than capable of blending computer animation with traditional animation, while still keeping things looking fluid and real, but they fail to do so in this particular instance. The textures are blocky and unpolished, with little detail or definition, movement feels stilted and unnatural and the huge ships which are clearly supposed to evoke wonder as they sail through space instead look like clunky, unfinished models; when these poorly animated objects and environments are placed beside the well-animated 2D characters, it highlights just how bad they look and really takes you out of the movie. There are some skilled uses of computer animation, such as Long John Silver’s cybernetic arm, but they are few and far between, so most of the movie is just not fun to look at, which becomes a big problem considering how many of the film’s larger set-pieces rely on you being awestruck by visuals which are entirely uninspiring.

Totally... uh, slightly radical

The basic story of Treasure Island is of course, one we all know, so the intrigue comes from how well the film approaches the sci-fi theme; unfortunately, the answer is “not very well.” Though the film takes place in a futuristic, intergalactic setting, it also tries to blend this with the swashbuckling, 18^th Century setting of the original novel; this means that instead of technologically advanced space ships, we have standard naval ships complete with sails and rigging just floating through space. Though not inherently a bad idea, this kind of steampunk combination between past and future technology – clearly reminiscent of the similar setting of Atlantis: The Lost Empire – is awkwardly handled; I can’t quite explain it, but it just doesn’t feel right and I think they should have simply stuck to one idea, either tell the story of Treasure Island as it is, or set it in a fully futuristic, sci-fi world. With the film unable to decide between either idea and equally unable to find a comfortable balance between the two, it just feels schizophrenic, at one point showcasing wild intergalactic adventures with wacky aliens and hover boards and a minute later showing people unfurling sails and swabbing decks like a scene right out of Moby Dick. Instead of cutting the cord and letting one setting stand on its own, Treasure Planet greedily tries to have its cake and eat it too and as a result, both ideas suffer.

The characters are at the heart of the film, though very few of them play a big role in the action. Jim is a typical teenage hero, he’s rebellious, but isn’t a bad kid, he’s cheeky, but not arrogant, he does poorly at school, but is street smart, he’s roguish and charming, but has a sensitive side; he takes a lot of inspiration from other characters, particularly Aladdin, who he even takes specific facial expressions from. He has a degree of attitude and style, though like early Disney protagonists, he does have a tendency to kind of stand by the sidelines and let others drive the story, at least until the final act, where he gets more directly involved with what’s going on. The best part about Jim is the fact that he is given a simple, but effective back story and sense of motivation, something which is often lacking in Disney heroes; though main characters in Disney movies are often left orphans or are missing a parent, it is usually because their parents died or they were separated, never before has it been that their parent simply walked out on them, as is the case with Jim, who was abandoned by his father. This is a realistic and harsh scenario, evoking a genuine sympathy for Jim, as well as giving legitimate reasons for his need to rebel and lack of self-esteem; he clearly feels that if he’d been good enough, his father wouldn’t have left him, building a strong inferiority complex in him which we see crop up throughout the film, before finally being vanquished in the climax. Though these issues aren’t always portrayed as well as they could be in the film proper, they are in themselves a welcome change from what we’re used to.

The Iron Chef

The side characters are a strange lot, as they mostly dominate the first half of the movie, only to drop out of sight almost entirely for the second half. Dr. Doppler sways between being slightly humorous and outright annoying and in my opinion, his role as the bumbling, awkward, intellectual sidekick is a tired one that really doesn’t need to be here; the film itself almost seems to agree with this, as despite having a lot of focus early on, he practically disappears at the end of the first act. Thankfully, he’s a lot easier to handle after this point as he only appears now and again, so despite a few uncomfortably bad jokes, he’s mostly not so bad. Captain Amelia is a reasonably good, if underutilised character, she has a quick wit and a sharp tongue which works effectively when she is pitted against the other characters and she’s well voiced by Emma Thompson; though like Doppler, she falls into the background about halfway through, she is enjoyable to watch while she is around, particularly her movements and animation, which are fluid, acrobatic and, appropriately enough, feline. B.E.N, however, is a textbook example of “The Hooter”: a loud, clumsy, obnoxious, inhuman sidekick, who constantly blabbers on, is involved in painfully unfunny comedy and repeatedly screws up and causes problems for the heroes; in this regard he is probably worse than any we’ve ever seen, as his unnecessary interference almost  gets Jim killed multiple times! B.E.N really is a pain and though not as much of an irritant as he could’ve been, as he only appears in the final act, it certainly doesn’t help that he seems to be included purely from a marketing standpoint, his existence practically screams “I WAS CREATED FOR A MCDONALD’S HAPPY MEAL TOY TIE-IN”; the very core of his nature is an insult and he’s a pest whenever he’s on screen, for the characters and the audience.

Most notable is Long John Silver, who is relatively complex, for a Disney villain; though his motivation of wanting the treasure for himself initially seems rather weak, it soon becomes clear that he is not so much motivated by greed and wealth, but by a lifelong dream which has turned into a ruthless obsession, compounded by his insatiable need to win. It is obvious that Silver was once like Jim, a wide-eyed young boy who dreamed of being the first person to discover the legendary Treasure Planet, but after years of disappointment and failure, he was transformed into a selfish and bitter man who was willing to do whatever it takes to finally get what he felt he was owed; it is here that we find the most interesting part about this villain, namely, his relationship with the hero. Jim becomes like a surrogate son to Silver, who sees himself in the boy and develops a soft spot for him; as a result, the two share a lot of powerful moments which address the nature of parental abandonment, self-loathing, personal potential, free will and morality, all of which are handled maturely and humbly. Through his relationship with Jim, Silver is ultimately redeemed, something we have yet to really see from a Disney villain, who tend to either be unquestionably evil monsters, or simply mean-spirited, ineffectual bullies; Silver has a moral ambiguity to him that is entirely original amongst his peers. In terms of his direct personality, he is delightfully slimy and two-faced, constantly sucking up to and manipulating people to get what he wants, while secretly having another agenda; on the other side of the coin, when he wants to be threatening, he can be, but it is clear he always has a gentleness underneath all the bluster, especially towards Jim – everything Silver does is an act, both his goody-two shoes persona and his vicious pirate persona are façades, with his real persona as a confident, but kindly old sailor only coming out in his more tender moments with Jim. He’s not the most memorable Disney villain and he’s not the most fun, but Silver is unique and surprisingly complex, which earns him points with me; his and Jim’s relationship is the highlight of the film.

Gotta have a disgui- oh no wait, he’s actually just a robot

Treasure Planet is a movie with its heart in the right place (save for a few more cynical marketing moves) but its head is lost in the clouds; it has high ambitions, but seems unsure of exactly what those ambitions are – does it want to be a reconstruction of the traditional Disney format, in the vein of the films of the Renaissance, a darker and more action-packed adventure in the vein of something like Atlantis, or something new altogether? Ultimately, the film finds itself torn between all three, leaving it with a sense of identity crisis and a jarring lack of cohesion; there are some good ideas here, but they are too often played against other aspects which don’t follow the same tone or style. The relationship between the two central characters is capably handled, but the setting is messy; the character animation is skilful and conveys a lot of emotion, but the computer animated objects and environments almost single-handedly destroy any sense of wonder or immersion. Treasure Planet’s general attitude and new ideas make it difficult to dislike, but its numerous weaker elements prevent it from being anything all that special.


Other Thoughts:

• Forget the annoying robot, Hooter is that you!?

Could be his brother

6.5/10

Next Week: Brother Bear!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds

42. Lilo & Stitch (2002)

After the disappointing performance of Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Disney bounced back with what was to be their only big success for years to come: Lilo & Stitch. One of the few Disney films to be set in the modern day, Lilo & Stitch combines extravagant, sci-fi action with a heartfelt, emotional story about family and purpose. It does tread some old ground, but for the first time in a few years and the last time for quite a few more, Disney managed to connect with audiences on an emotional level in the way only they can do.

The art style returns to Disney’s more traditional, rounded, smoother character designs, though the human characters of this movie do have a distinct look and the aliens all look very different and unique. The animation is, unsurprisingly, excellent; the character animation is excellent, sometimes kinetic and humorous, sometimes careful and used to express quiet emotion, the action scenes are excellent, the computer animation is excellent, it’s all excellent. The backgrounds are of particular note, returning to a watercolour look that Disney has not used for quite some time; the colours and painting are so soft, yet rich, the backgrounds almost seem to exist in a world of their own, independent of the characters. This style reminds me of Studio Ghibli movies, especially the later, 2009 film Ponyo, which shares a similar setting; in both these films, the backgrounds are a true work of art.

At first the story can seem rather tired, being about an alien who finds himself stranded on Earth and has to insert himself into the lives of a little girl and her sister, only to have them teach him the true meaning of family and what it means to belong. We have seen this story of the outsider who wants to find where they belong many times throughout the Disney Renaissance, but rarely is it done as well as it is here; like Beauty and the Beast, Lilo & Stitch focuses not on pushing its moral, but rather on developing its characters, allowing the audience to infer the message and themes of the film from the struggles they go through. Again, like Beauty and the Beast, the film shows us two characters that are viewed as outcasts, simply because they are different, who cannot reconcile their feelings about themselves with the role that society has decided they should play – Lilo as the weirdo and Stitch as the monster; initially, they seem to give into the roles they have been given, but slowly come to realise that they are not a good fit. Unlike something like The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the movie is not about proving this to others, but simply to themselves, they want to feel like they belong to a family, something which Stitch has never had and which Lilo has had tragically taken from her. Though the film addresses some familiar themes, it does it so expertly and with such a unique cast of characters that it probably does a better job than any of the previous Disney movies that tackle this idea, except Beauty and the Beast.

Creepy Lilo

The film’s Hawaiian setting is also of note, as not only does it make sense within the context of the story – Stitch lands on an island with no major cities and cannot swim, so he is trapped in a place where he physically cannot fulfil his destructive purpose – but also allows for some beautiful scenery, interesting uses of character and culture and great music, all of which are completely new to the Disney animated canon. The film is also well paced and well structured, with a solid character arc which remains entertaining and consistent throughout; everything that happens makes sense and each scene follows on logically from the one before. The movie is also very funny! There is a great sense of comic timing here, the animators know just how long a character should hold a stare, or pause before reacting, leading to a lot of sudden jokes which hit hard and fast, catching you off guard. There are also a lot of good character-based jokes, as all the major characters have very specific personalities which afford for humorous dialogue and equally humorous interactions with the other characters. Though it’s not as overtly comical as The Emperor’s New Groove, Lilo & Stitch is, in many ways, just as funny and as a film which is not purely a comedy, it perfectly balances the moments of brevity with the more serious, emotional scenes; from a purely structural standpoint, Lilo & Stitch is pretty much perfect.

The characters are a colourful and naturally likeable bunch; there are very few stereotypes here and the ones that at first seem to be old clichés are actually used in a way that we’re not used to seeing in Disney movies. Like Beauty and the Beast, the two title characters of Lilo & Stitch share the role of protagonist, as the movies devotes equal time to the both of them, as well as their growing friendship. Lilo is, without question, the best child character Disney has ever done; kids in Disney movies tend to either be overly cutesy and annoying, or just bland and... well, still annoying. Instead of a stereotype of a kid, Lilo actually behaves like a real kid – she can be a brat and pushes her sister in terms of what she can get away with, but it doesn't mean she’s a bad kid, she’s just acting out for attention; she’s cute, but without being too saccharine, her behaviour and mannerisms are just naturally sweet; she’s curious and insightful for her age, but is still naive and inexperienced. Most notable is how she’s a weird kid that doesn’t fit in with her peers, but not in a generic “outcast in a Disney movie” way; we are expected to accept that characters like Hercules and Pocahontas don’t fit in, for very superficial and undeveloped reasons, but Lilo’s mannerisms are so realistic and skilfully conveyed that we immediately and completely understand why she’s an outcast. Everyone knew a kid like this growing up (and if they didn’t, it’s probably because they were this kid), she’s always just a little off from everyone else – she can’t afford the same dolls that all the other girls play with, so she makes her own, but it just doesn’t look right; she starts fights with little provocation, but then tries to be friends with the very same person she just attacked, seemingly unaware of the fact that these people don’t consider her their friend; she is not a freak or a bad person, she is just a very confused little girl. There is a scene where Lilo tells Stitch that she knows that the reason he wrecks things and pushes people away is because he is lonely; she may as well be talking about herself, her character is a heartbreakingly truthful deconstruction of the idea of the “weird kid”. Lilo has a lot of personality, her weird ideas and off-kilter wit are charming and her awkward reactions and sense of timing are legitimately very funny. Daveigh Chase does a fantastic job in bringing this character to life, especially considering how young she was at the time; consequently, Lilo sounds just like a real little girl and it’s impossible not to grow to care about her.

Stitch runs afoul of Earth’s most dangerous predator 

Stitch is also very likeable, he’s just a ball of crazy energy that’s always doing weird stuff and often in very strange and inventive ways, such as moving around by sticking his legs into his mouth and rolling around like a ball. He’s such a little monster and he’s always causing trouble, but that’s why he’s so much fun to watch; even when he becomes a “good guy”, as it were, he still mocks and taunts his enemies and seems to derive an almost sadistic glee from humiliating and hurting them. He also shares a sense of awkwardness with Lilo, as well as the obvious fact that he doesn’t fit in on Earth because he’s an alien; they are both weird, misunderstood and undervalued, but do have things they are good at, even if they are a little unusual or unexpected – from Lilo’s sense of imagination and creativity, to Stitch’s skill with a guitar – and deep down they just want to be loved. Stitch also spends about half of the movie in a state of legitimate depression and existential crisis, questioning his purpose and place in the world and whether or not he should be alive at all; this is conveyed very seriously, delicately and mostly without even any dialogue, with a level of depth and honesty rarely seen in films intended for children. It never gets too heavy or melancholy, but you really feel for Stitch as you can see just how much pain and confusion he’s in; for a character who is so wild and crazy and who barely has any dialogue, Stitch is very well-rounded and both sides of his personality are equally interesting – when he’s a monster, he’s a REAL monster and a ton of fun, but when he’s more tender, he’s genuinely endearing and sympathetic and like Lilo, you really feel for him.

The side characters are also well constructed; Nani is another character that could have easily been poorly handled, but is instead presented so sincerely that she avoids becoming the very obvious and easy cliché she could have been. She can be a bit of a kill-joy and is bossy towards Lilo and Stitch, but only because she has to be; she is frustrated that Lilo seems incapable of understanding just how close her behaviour has brought them to being separated, but at the same time, she understands that it’s unfair to expect Lilo to understand – after all, she’s only a kid and she shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff, yet. But of course, Nani is barely more than a kid herself and it’s implied that she’s had to skip at least part of her childhood to raise Lilo, after they lost their parents, which isn’t fair on her, either; her struggle is believable and incredibly sympathetic, as all she wants is to do what’s right for her sister, but the world just keeps putting obstacles in her way. Like Lilo and Stitch, she finds it difficult to play the role that the world has forced on her, that of a mother: as Lilo says, ‘I like you better as a sister than as a mom’; she isn’t ready for that kind of responsibility yet, but because of what happened, she has no choice. Her interactions with Lilo are also refreshingly realistic, from their sisterly quarrels to their moments of playfulness and understanding, with little quirks and reactions that we can imagine built up over the course of their lives; there is a great scene where Lilo runs away from Nani, who instantly knows that she is hiding in the tumble dryer and very carefully lays out a trap for her sister, tricking her into catching herself. Small things like this go such a long way in developing genuine relationships and back stories, I cannot stress this enough; it is such a short scene, but it tells us so much about these characters, how well they know each other and what their lives have been like before we met them. The character of the bossy older sister is so rarely done well in kid’s movies and Nani is one of the very few that is done so perfectly.

Newest candidate for most amazing shot in film history

Jumba and Pleakley are the biggest source of comic relief and are, in some ways, a pretty traditional villainous double-act, though they too break tradition by not really being bad people and eventually becoming friends with the heroes.  They play off each other well and at times function almost like an old married couple, with the more masculine, impulsive and reckless Jumba constantly being nagged by the more feminine, anxious and rational Pleakley, especially evidenced by the fact that Jumba disguises himself as a man and Pleakley as a woman. They both have good voice actors behind them, especially Pleakley, who is voiced by Kids in the Hall member Kevin McDonald, who brings a sense of fervent panic and laughable incompetence to the character. Cobra Bubbles is cool and intimidating and his serious and unflappable demeanour makes for a lot of good gags, particularly the fact that his ridiculous name is so at odds with his tough exterior that he is visibly embarrassed saying it. Despite essentially being an antagonistic force towards Nani and Lilo, as he threatens to split them apart, he is not a bad guy; again, in most kid’s movies, this guy would be a stuck-up, stuffy bureaucrat who seems obsessed with splitting up the sisters just to be mean. However, Bubbles is a reasonable and good-intentioned authority figure who is clearly upset by the idea of taking Lilo away, as he knows Nani cares about her sister, he just has legitimate concerns about her ability to take care of her; neither Bubbles nor Nani are in the wrong and neither of them are the bad guy, they’re just two good people in a bad situation trying to do what they think is right and they both have very valid points. Similarly, the Grand Councilwoman is an antagonistic force towards Stitch, but only because she is trying to protect the galaxy; like Bubbles, she is only trying to do what she thinks is right and when she is eventually convinced that Stitch has good in him and deserves to live, she allows him to do so.

Gantu is the closest the film has to a legitimate villain, but even he is not really evil, like Bubbles and the Grand Councilwoman he is just trying to do his job, though he does seem to take a little too much joy in capturing Lilo and Stitch. Unfortunately, though it is mostly interesting to have a Disney movie where the heroes are faced by antagonistic forces who are not especially villainous, in the case of Gantu, it does kind of work more to the film’s detriment than its credit, as though Stitch’s rescue of Lilo is exciting, Gantu’s lack of development as a real villain means that his defeat doesn’t really feel all that satisfying or conclusive; still, this is one of, if not the only real time that the film stumbles, so it’s very easy to forgive. The film doesn’t really need a specific villain, as one of its messages seems to be that there is no such thing as good or bad people, just good and bad situations and when people find themselves in the latter, they just have to make the most of things and do the best they can, which will sometimes bring them into conflict with others. As said before, none of the characters who oppose Lilo and Stitch are especially bad people, they’re just doing what they think is right and ultimately, are persuaded otherwise, when the titular duo prove to them that, despite what appearances might suggest, they are a part of a happy and functional family that doesn’t need outside interference.

Jumba and Pleakley, about to finally kiss

Lilo & Stitch is once again not a traditional musical, but instead features a number of songs which play over the action, some original and some pre-existing. Unlike Tarzan, for example, the songs do not exist to describe the action, but instead exist purely to evoke emotion and create atmosphere; thankfully, this means there are no goofy lyrics or redundant, simplistic narration, they’re just nice songs. The use of Hawaiian music, as well as the songs of Elvis Presley, compliment the film’s setting and style appropriately and work well for a number of montages, as well as an especially powerful section of the film where Lilo, Stitch, Nani and their friend David go surfing, a sequence which runs a gambit of emotions, from apprehension, to childlike wonder, to pained loneliness, to ecstatic joy; truly one of the movie’s best moments, which could not exist without the great song “Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride” behind it. The score is by veteran composer Alan Silvestri and at times sounds suspiciously similar to his score from Back to the Future, but of course, this is in no way a bad thing; Silvestri is a master of his art and his music fosters empathy, hope and exhilaration as well here as in anything he’s ever done.

Lilo & Stitch is a movie at the top of its game; it knows exactly what it’s doing and practically never drops the ball. The sci-fi stuff is cool and exciting, but it knows when to give way to the more emotional stuff and the emotional stuff never gets melancholic or serious enough to bring down the fun; it’s a perfect split between adventure and heart. The story is a thoughtful and admirably realistic take on some themes Disney has explored many times before, many of which it does better than any of its predecessors. With fun characters, cool music and awesome animation, Lilo & Stitch is a movie that fires on all cylinders; it’s an absolute delight.


9/10

Next Week: Treasure Planet!

Email: joetalksaboutstuff@gmail.com

Twitter: @JSChilds