Onward Ho-No!

My goal for the upcoming month is to write two Pixar blogs: one on the Toy Story movies, and one on my favourite Pixar scene. In the meantime, I’d like to discuss a more-pressing bit of news. (That, and personal issues have set me back a little bit.) Lord have mercy on my soul, because this particular story actively pains me!

Onward, Pixar’s latest film, is set to release in March. On the surface, it seems promising: it’s a mythological movie, it’s set in modern times, it’s starring two teenaged mages and it’s a road trip movie. This has Pixar’s stamp of brilliance written all-over it. Sufficed to say, I’m really excited to watch it.

Unfortunately, reality’s making me feel a little guilty about that. The Hollywood Reporter recently posted an article suggesting that Pixar committed plagiarism with its van design. And not only that, but they didn’t credit the original artist. And not only that, but now the artist, a unicorn aficionado named Sweet Cecily Daniher, is taking Pixar and Disney to court. Yikes!

I’ve made it no secret that I’m a Disney fan, but not an uncritical one. I’ve written about James Gunn, the 20th Century Fox merger and Pixar’s issue with sexism. I like their work, but even I know when to draw the line. This is one of those moments. Say what you will about Gunn and 20th Century Fox (and possibly even the misogyny), but none of it, I’d hope, was illegal. Maybe it was “wrong” ethically, but a case could made in defence of it. If Daniher’s lawsuit checks out, and I see no reason why it wouldn’t, then this is both illegal and disappointing.

Let’s back up a bit. According to Daniher’s legal team, Pixar had violated the DMCA, the VARA and the CAPA (or, in non-legal terms, Daniher’s artwork had been stolen.) I’d go on to discuss the weirdness of this affair, but I think THR put it better than I could:

“It has drawn ‘considerable press attention,’ according to Daniher, who says a San Francisco Magazine piece sparked Pixar's attention and the company reached out about renting her vehicle for a special event in September 2018. She says she was told 'the Vanicorn would be used for an event limited to 'a one day music festival/activity day for Pixar employees and families' and that the Vanicorn 'would just be a show piece and not used in any way other than a visual prop…’

…In the complaint, Daniher says Rae apologized and admitted they intentionally didn't inform her that they intended to use the Vanicorn as a character in Onward because, at the time, the film didn't have a title and without a title they couldn't have her sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

There you have it: a full-on admission of guilt!

Honestly, I’m disappointed. I know that Disney and copyright lawsuits stem back to Walt Disney versus Ub Iwerks over Mickey Mouse, but I assumed that corporate nonsense of this calibre was beyond Pixar. They’re not perfect-they tolerated John Lasseter’s behaviour for decades-but stealing work from artists? Pixar committing theft?! Call me naïve, but what?!

Unfortunately, such is the case. And it sucks because Onward’s future is now uncertain. This film could potentially be shelved, like Newt was almost a decade ago. Except that, unlike Newt, Onward’s finished and ready for release. This’d be like that important research paper you’ve been promising getting scrapped months before publication because one of the sources was in dispute. Even if the disputation is valid, it’s still a shame.

So what now? I don’t know. I’m aware that Daniher’s original design and the vehicle in the film have differences, but so what? Pixar’s admitted fault here, and that’s pretty terrible from a PR point-of-view. It doesn’t help that Daniher’s story’s pretty telling of the creative field in general: people make works of art, only to have bigger names take it as their own and not credit them. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again. If you want proof, look no further than Eric Carter.

I’m hoping this gets resolved somehow. I’m hoping that either Daniher gets her fair credit once the film releases, or that Pixar changes/scrubs out the design of their van. Because holding a film for ransom, legit or not, when it’s so close to release feels unfair. For all we know, this could be the best film all year! We won’t know if it gets shelved, right?

I get it: Daniher was wronged by a studio that knew better. And she deserves a happy ending. I know that NDAs are tricky, so I’ll side-step that altogether, but Pixar can try extending an olive branch and making this right. It’d be petty to let it slide.

I also want to remind people to credit artists when you incorporate or use their work. Please. We already struggle feeding ourselves in a world that treats us like rugs while expecting gold, so having our labour be stolen without recognition wounds the heart. It pisses on our contributions and tells us we don’t matter. It also robs us of our voices.

If all-else, this incident should be a moment of introspection. It should remind us that companies are comprised of people, and people are fallible. They, therefore, make decisions that aren’t always well-thought out. Pixar is no different, and I should’ve realized that.

Antz VS A Bug's Life-Which is Better?

On October 2nd, 1998, DreamWorks SKG released Antz. A critical and box-office hit, the film sits at a 93% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 72 on Metacritic. Despite lukewarm fan-reception, the movie has gained a cult-following over the years. It’s also remembered fondly by those willing to overlook the controversies surrounding its production and lead. I also think it’s a decent movie.

On November 14th, 1998, roughly 6 weeks later, Pixar released A Bug’s Life. A critical and box-office hit as well, the film sits at a 92% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 77 on Metacritic. While not remembered as one of Pixar’s best, it has a more-dedicated cult-following than Antz and is often pitted against it as “the better movie”. But is it? That’s what I plan to determine.

As usual, this comparison will be subjective and contain spoilers for both movies. You’ve been warned.

Anyway, let’s begin with storyline strength…

Story:

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Despite originating from similar concepts, Antz and A Bug’s Life couldn’t be more different narratively. Antz is the story of Z, a neurotic ant who longs to break free from his predetermined job and make a name for himself. His best friend, Weaver, is a loyal troop who’d willingly put down his life for the colony. When the two agree to switch places for a day, Z miraculously survives a traumatic battle with the neighbouring termites. Not content with his status as a war hero, Z kidnaps Princess Bala and makes a run for it in search of Insectopia. Eventually, Z learns to put the colony’s needs ahead of his selfishness, which comes in handy when he discovers General Mandible’s plan to wipe out the worker ants and replace them with soldier ants.

A Bug’s Life goes a much different route. The story focuses on Flik, a bumbling inventor whose inventions keep making life for his colony a nightmare. When his latest creation causes the harvest for the grasshoppers to fall into a lake, Flik travels to the city to recruit warrior bugs to fend them off. He discovers a group a disgraced circus performers and takes them back, hoping they can liberate his colony. That is, of course, assuming he can keep up the charade of making these circus bugs look like warriors.

Both movies have complicated set-ups with lots going on, especially Antz. Surprisingly, however, both movies’ stories are really simple. With A Bug’s Life, it might even be too simple. Antz definitely leans on the classic story The Prince and the Pauper, but it also mixes in the concepts of uniformity, the 9-to-5 job and the military industrial complex, all of which are relevant in 2020. A Bug’s Life is a critique on capitalism, which is also relevant in 2020, but it leans way too heavily on Aesop’s fables and Seven Samurai. In the latter’s case, the Kurosawa film’s fingerprints are all-over the movie, to the point of potential plagiarism.

In its defence, A Bug’s Life has something that Antz lacks: urgency. With the exception of the termite battle and the climax, the majority of Antz’s story meanders. It’s not non-existent, but you rarely feel like there’s danger even in times of, well, danger. A Bug’s Life, conversely, has urgency written all-over it. You get the stakes, and you feel the stakes. It’s a skill Pixar was still mastering in 1998, but they got it down-pat here.

Unfortunately, A Bug’s Life uses The Liar Revealed trope. This is when a protagonist lies to get the story going, is discovered in an over-the-top fashion and gets excommunicated for the sake of tension. It drags the story to a halt, only picking up again once the character’s snapped out of their funk. In this movie’s case, it’s additionally unfortunate because the runtime is only about 93-minutes. I’m glad Pixar got this trope out of the way early in their history, but it still hurts the experience.

I’m giving this one to A Bug’s Life, though. Is it less-original? Yes. Is its use of The Liar Revealed unbearable? Also yes. But it moves with a sense of urgency. Antz has the better story, but it feels more aimless.

Winner:

But a story needs a good cast of characters, which leads me to…

Cast:

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This is an unfair comparison. A Bug’s Life has a bigger roster of characters, but most of them are forgettable. Antz, on the other hand, has a smaller roster of characters, but they’re also more interesting. It really depends on what you want: a big story with a small focus (Antz), or a small story with a big focus (A Bug’s Life)? You’re trading one for the other.

A Bug’s Life has wonderful characters in the main roster-Flik, Princess Atta, Dot, Hopper, the circus crew Flik recruits-but some really generic supporting characters. Think about those two grasshoppers who reveal Hopper’s plan to squish The Queen: do they really have much to them? They could’ve easily been swapped out with other characters and still served their purpose. (Speaking of, wouldn’t it make more sense if Hopper’s brother, who’s already a loose-lipped idiot, had revealed the plan instead?)

With Antz, the characters are all unique: Z’s the neurotic loner, Weaver’s the tough guy with a heart, Azteca’s the worker with attitude, Princess Bala’s the bored princess and General Mandible’s the eugenicist general. Even characters with relatively few lines, like Barbados, are memorable. It’s interesting considering how all the characters’ personalities were modelled after their famous voices, and that should annoy me. But it doesn’t.

So yes, Antz wins in the cast department. It’s got a much smaller character roster, but it utilizes it better.

Winner:

But what’s an animated movie without animation? This is…

Aesthetic:

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I’ll say this: both movies used impressive computer techniques for 1998. With A Bug’s Life, the film managed to copy-paste multiple ants to appear on-screen at once, which was considered revolutionary. Antz, on the other hand, played with character models and scope (more on the latter in a bit). Both movies were visual marvels, but with that comes a datedness. Perhaps it’s because of modern CGI, or because CGI doesn’t age well, but it’s easy to tell that both movies released in the late-90’s.

So, which looks more interesting? Antz, for two reasons: firstly, the character models are distinct, even in crowd shots. A Bug’s Life, for all its technical achievements, has plenty of repeated stock models. Antz, while having blockier designs, has unique models that play on size and weight. Z looks different than Azteca and the rest of the worker ants, as does Weaver and the rest of the soldier ants. That distinction works in its favour.

Secondly, Antz plays with scope. A Bug’s Life has nicer-looking character designs, but most of the bugs are pretty uniform in size. You’d think that Heimlich, for example, would be bigger than Flik, since he’s an overweight caterpillar, but nope! In contrast, Antz’s characters are all played to scale, with wasps and termites being significantly bigger than the ants. That’s not even getting to the minute differences between the worker and soldier ants, with the latter being much bigger!

It’s pretty obvious who the victor is.

Winner:

But aesthetics don’t work when the movies are lacking sound, which leads me to…

Sound:

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Both movies have excellent sound design. Whether it’s Antz using dangerous sounds to convey the fear of humans, or A Bug’s Life using the same motif for environmental hazards, a lot of thought went into the sound design of these films. The same is true of the scores and original songs, with Antz using jazz and pop songs and A Bug’s Life having Randy Newman’s compositions. Based on this alone, it’s be a tie. So where do I tip the scales?

Simple: in the voice acting. It’s unfair to chastise Antz for picking movie celebrities over A Bug’s Life’s TV celebrities, especially since both are effective, but the kicker comes with Woody Allen. For a variety of reasons, I really don’t like Woody Allen. He’s fine as Z, he makes the character work, but he could’ve been replaced and I wouldn’t have missed him. No one in A Bug’s Life could’ve been swapped out. Plus, given what we now know about Kevin Spacey, him voicing the villain makes me swallow his performance more.

A Bug’s Life wins.

Winner:

And now for the final category!

Entertainment factor:

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One of the unfortunate parts of reviewing these movies is feeling that, in hindsight, they’re not really all that great. Even in 1998, Antz had tough competition from The Prince of Egypt, DreamWorks’ first traditionally-animated film, and I’d much prefer watching that. Meanwhile, A Bug’s Life feels like a step backward for Pixar following Toy Story, and it’d remain their worst-reviewed movie until Cars. Still, I’ll try and assess which one’s more enjoyable.

Which is hard! For every strength of one movie, it fails in relation to the other in a different area. The comedy in Antz is more adult than A Bug’s Life, even containing curse words, but it’s not nearly as funny. The story’s less-original in A Bug’s Life, but more urgent. The animation’s blockier in Antz, yet more distinct than in A Bug’s Life. And while Antz is smarter overall, I’d sooner re-watch A Bug’s Life.

I’d settle this with a game of “pick one, dammit!”, but that’d be unfair. So I’ll instead imagine what it’d be like to watch these movies as a kid, because that’s when I first saw them. And coming from the viewpoint of a child…Antz wins out. Barely. A Bug’s Life might click more as an adult, but it was never meant for adults. Neither was Antz, but 8 year-old me would’ve gotten more from it than A Bug’s Life.

So yes, Antz wins.

Overall winner:

That was tough to write! Thanks for sticking it out, and I’ll see you next time!

Mono no South Park-e

“The opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference.” (Ellie Wiesel.)

I didn’t grow up with South Park. Aside from my parents being super-strict about content, the show was on way past my bedtime. Even once I was old enough to be awake when it syndicated, its attempts at shock and toilet humour bored me when they didn’t freak me out. (Keep in mind that belching and farting on TV used to offend me on a personal level.) All that it needed was soft-core porn, and it’d have met my criteria for “perverse television I’d never want to see”.

What bugs me as an adult about it, however, is much more-egregious. It’s something many of its fans have picked up on in recent years too. It’s also easy to suggest that Matt Stone and Trey Parker have become “cynical coots”, but I’d argue that it’s baked into the show’s DNA: apathy. And an extreme version of it as well.

One of the episodes has Mr. Garrison, the gay homeroom teacher who shouts ableist slurs at his students, transitioning into a woman. This isn’t a bad idea in theory: trans individuals are underrepresented in media, and having the show tackle it could lead to a discussion about being trans. Yet while a show with sensitivity would actually address “coming out”, the pros and cons of gender reassignment surgery and whether or not transitioning actually makes your life better, South Park uses it for a tired joke about how “gender reassignment surgery doesn’t change who you’re born as”. This episode also has Mr. Garrison’s testicles being used as kneecap replacements for Kyle’s “athlete reassignment surgery”, because “what else would they be used for?”.

In another episode, Randy Marsh, the father of one of the protagonists, is a contestant on Wheel of Fortune. For his final puzzle, Randy’s asked to fill in the blank for a word synonymous with “people who annoy you”. It’s obvious that the answer is “Naggers”, but when Randy’s pressed for time, he eventually blurts out the N-word. It’s clear the joke’s meant to prey on white ignorance, and his family’s clearly not happy, but even then the joke misses why the N-word, which has historically oppressed black people, is offensive at all. Regardless of what black people think of the word-there’s a spectrum of thought-it’s not a good look for two Jewish show-runners, and Ashkenazic ones at that, to be displaying such willful insensitivity.

I’m tempted to call out Stone and Parker for this, but such has become their modus operandi. Essentially, they don’t care. They don’t care, and “neither should everyone else”. And this idea of being apathetic, which is baked into how the show’s written, is rarely challenged. It’s the status quo.

I’m not suggesting censorship. Stone and Parker are entitled to their First Amendment rights, as is any other American. Telling them they “can’t do something” has also never stopped them from doing it, as shown with Episode 201, in which they openly mocked depicting Mohammed. But what usually gets lost in the debate about Freedom of Speech is that of Freedom of Consequences. Ignoring how the right to say something doesn’t equal the right to be heard, with that comes accountability.

I also don’t envy Stone and Parker’s episodic approach. Say what you will, but I commend them for bucking traditional writing rules. There’s something refreshingly honest about not adhering to guidelines and doing whatever you want. (My entire blog is exactly that.) I’m not suggesting that they change that, but rather to understand when something may or may not be a good idea. Sometimes, saying “no” is more important than saying “yes”.

There’s also something incredibly-dishonest about having the awful, shocking viewpoint as “right” all the time. Being awful to prove a point is fine, but South Park’s characters rarely suffer consequences for their bad behaviour. Like Wall Street executives who break the law, they rarely receive backlash beyond a slap on the wrist. It’s also not like the “characters do bad because they’re bad people” trope hasn’t been done better in other shows, so it’s doubly-perplexing why Stone and Parker continue pushing boundaries without having anything truly thoughtful to say.

And I don’t even think the show’s all that funny. It’d be one problem if South Park kept its amoral veneer, yet had barrels of laughs to spare. But outside of occasional chuckles, the show frequently resorts to shock and scatological humour for laughs. And unlike the Shrek films, this humour rarely justifies itself. It feels empty, hence me not being invested.

I’m not even sure why South Park feels a need to be so perverse anyway: what good does having a dozen poop jokes in one episode do for the story? Why does saying the N-word 100 times suddenly make it more funny? Say what you will about Quentin Tarantino, Lord knows I have, but even he recognizes when shock humour’s appropriate far better than this show!

Yes: I’m being whiney. I’m being overly-sensitive. I’m “missing the joke”. But even outside of not being the target audience for South Park, I have to wonder if its fans even understand what it’s conveying. I’m sure many do, and this isn’t meant to blanket all of them, but the apathy the series nurtures and condones is scary. The world needs compassion and stance-taking, especially now.

Also, like with all media, the above issues weren’t started by, nor are solely owned by, the existence of South Park. They’d exist regardless, and media can’t make you do anything. But, as with Fox News, South Park encourages and reinforces toxic behaviours that’d otherwise be perpetuated in subtle ways. It’s a gateway drug for a damaging mindset, essentially.

I’m also aware that by writing this, I’m “falling prey” to the trap set out by this show. I know that Stone and Parker aren’t idiots, and that they’ve used people like me as targets of ridicule before. But I don’t care anymore. Like Family Guy, which I don’t like for other-yet-similar reasons, South Park uses its apathy as vehicle for being as inappropriate as possible, and without much thought for doing so. It’s the literal definition of “I don’t give a f*** what you think”, and that’s not exactly a healthy attitude to have in 2020.

The Killing Joker

I didn’t want to write this. There were many topics that interested me more, like Tanner Zipchen being let go from Cineplex. But it wouldn’t leave me alone, so I have no choice. That, and my Blog’s algorithm prioritizes traffic from hot-button topics. In other words, I guess I’m discussing Joker again. As if once wasn’t bad enough…

This week saw the announcement of the 2020 Oscar nominations. It’s no secret that I don’t take much offence with the ceremony-there are more pressing issues to complain about with The Academy than its choices each year-but it wasn’t surprising that Joker received 11 nominations. It’s a hot-button movie with an impressive main performance, and it was decently-directed and scored. Plus, it touches on the “angry loner who rebels against the system” trope that Academy voters love.

Any and all issues I have with this movie aren’t worth reiterating, but I guess some of my problems (not all of them) are my moralist side seeping through; after all, when I stated my frustrations with the film not letting me get into the protagonist’s head because of his awful decisions on Twitter, well…fill in the blanks. Either way, the “discourse” wouldn’t leave me alone for a few days. Go figure: I let loose on something I didn’t care for, and it sparked a conversation.

Regardless of what I may have thought, I definitely find it odd that the movie’s being touted as “under-appreciated”. It’s not. It made big bucks (approximately $1 billion), and while reception was mixed, a lot of people enjoyed it. I wasn’t one of them, but “under-appreciated” it wasn’t. I wouldn’t even call it “underrated”, as that implies that it was trying something interesting that critics didn’t appreciate.

What can I say about Joker? Do I mention how obnoxious its fans have been to me? Do I discuss what it says about film culture that the “angry incel” movie received a plethora of nominations? Do I talk about how Joaquin Phoenix, arguably the best part, was wasted on a mediocre script? Or do I rant about how its connections to the Batman mythos, loose as they are, are its worst parts?

Whatever I can say about Joker, chances are that it won’t do my thoughts justice. For one, time has made me feel even more-indifferent than when I first watched it. Having gone over clips of the movie on YouTube, I’ve noticed how manufactured its shock moments are. I’ve noticed how hollow they ring. The Joker generally murders people left-right-and-centre for fun, not because he has a reason, so him murdering people as cold-blooded statements about society, and not even profound ones, makes the plot-beats feel much hollower than if he were simply a nonsensical sociopath. Nevertheless, his victims in this movie feel somewhat-interchangeable.

Yes, Joker, it’s society’s fault. We live in a society, I’m not dumb. I’ve seen society do a lot of awful to the undeserving. Would you like me to tell you about my disability, and how it limits my ability to find and keep work? Would you like me to tell you how my social skills issues make it hard for me to date? I have many reasons to be mad at society, many legitimate ones. But you don’t see me shooting people over it!

I guess I wouldn’t be so baffled by Joker if it didn’t bang me over the head about issues that are true, but not worth being forceful over. Issues like classism, how the mentally-ill are treated like crap, or how the wealthy hoard their money and don’t share it. These are all legitimate concerns, but they feel wasted. They deserve to be couched in a smarter movie.

And that’s exactly it: I see a smarter movie in Joker, one clamouring to escape. I see the potential to be so much more. But it isn’t in what we got, especially from a director who once thought a decapitated giraffe was funny on its own. Context matters, and Todd Phillips lacks the directorial sensitivity to make that context work.

Perhaps I’m being unfair. I’m sure there are people who enjoyed watching this. I’m sure there are people who found it profound and moving. Who am I to judge them? Who am I to take that away? After all, I was willing to give Joker a chance before learning what it was about, even ignoring the director’s statements about comedy and censorship from the far-left.

On the other hand, maybe not? I’ve come to appreciate that my thoughts on films don’t always align with everyone else: I didn’t think the Star Wars Prequels were the worst movies ever made. I liked Avatar. I still think Cars 2, though heavily-flawed, isn’t nearly as awful as many have claimed. Clearly, being an anomaly isn’t a big deal for me.

But with Joker, a movie that’s sparked such intense debate, I suppose the conversation’s become too much? Like I said, I see seedlings of potential. The idea of watching an outcast adopt a psycho persona isn’t terrible, but it required much more tact. What we got wasn’t that.

As for The Academy? I don’t know. The Academy’s The Academy, they’ve made many decisions I don’t agree with. But regardless of what you think about their stance on Joker, one point’s for certain: we live in a society. Or, rather, we live a society, but that alone isn’t the issue. Take what you will from that.

The Best of the Decade: Animated Movies Style!

The 2010’s were unusual. Despite learning more about myself, I sometimes felt my personal growth happened too slowly. If you’d have told me that in 2020 I’d still be living at home and struggling to find work, I’d have called you crazy. The only part I’d like is switching hobbies from video games to movies, following the discovery of Studio Ghibli.

While the 2010’s were a mixed bag, its output of films, particularly animated, was strong. It’s easy to write movies off as “creatively bankrupt” and “out of ideas”, but there were some genuinely excellent cartoons released in that window. And what better than to talk about them?

This’ll be me picking my favourite animated film of each year, talking about it and giving some unique perspective. It’ll be subjective, personal and somewhat mainstream. I tried having variety, but I don’t really have the money or resources to see films that aren’t widely-accessible. If that bugs you, make your own list.

Also, there’ll be spoilers.

2010

2010 was, by far, my favourite year in film. It was also a year with relatively few animated films, but they were almost all high-profile. Yet of the three I saw in theatres, Toy Story 3 was the best. It seemed like a shoe-in, it was Pixar capping off a then-excellent trilogy, but given what Pixar’s output would be for the next few years, it seemed a miracle in hindsight that this one was as good as it was.

What made this movie work is that it provided a mature take on the franchise. I’m not the most-diehard of Toy Story fans, the first two movies are solid, but I’ve always loved the concept behind them and wanted the franchise would take more ambitious turns. Toy Story 3 does that, being a prison escape movie with a brief trip to “Toy Hell”. It’s incredible to see what the franchise was willing to do, but it did it! And it did it with an ending that (almost) made me cry.

My only complaint is Lotso. He’s not a bad villain, but his fate has always felt cheap and anticlimactic. There’s something disappointing about your big baddie ending up strapped to a truck and taking in the fumes for eternity. It feels lazy, but not enough to ruin everything else. (Which, thankfully, is amazing.)

2011

This was tougher than 2010. Despite there being more animated films, they weren’t as high-quality. Nevertheless, my pick for best of 2011 is the most out-there story-wise while also being pretty standard. I’m choosing Rango, or my favourite Nickelodeon movie. Sue me.

I haven’t watched the film in a while, but I still have it ingrained in my mind: the humour? All on-point. The character designs? Gritty, but in a palatable way. Even the writing, which feels incredibly adult, is top-notch, and that’s hard considering how easy it is to play it safe. Of course, having a set piece set to Ride of Valkyries doesn’t hurt.

My one regret is that Johnny Depp voices the lead. Considering what we know in hindsight, he’s now another Mel Gibson from Chicken Run. More than the “Liar Revealed” trope, or even some of the twists and turns, that makes it hard to appreciate this movie as much as I used to. Still, Rango’s the best Western I’ve seen this decade. It’s also the best movie from Gore Verbinski, who gave us the Pirates of the Caribbean films. I’d say it deserves more attention, but it won Best Animated Feature, so…ah, see it anyway.

2012

2012 had a much better ratio of quality-to-quantity than 2011, but it still couldn’t match 2010. Most of the animated films that year were great, but none were as excellent as Toy Story 3 or How to Train Your Dragon. My pick goes to an anime film I saw a year later. It might be “cheating”, since it debuted here in 2013, but seeing as its original release was 2012, that’s what I’ll go by. The film is The Wolf Children, by the way.

While Mamoru Hosoda’s been one to watch out for since The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, it’s his third feature-film that solidified my love for his work. And why not? Its narrative isn’t the deepest, it’s a slice-of-life story about a mother raising two kids, but the finer details matter most. Scenes like Yuki and Ame fighting, or Yuki and Ame running in the snow, feel real and relatable, while Hana’s struggle, though romanticized, is about resilience in the face of adversity. I’m sure any mother can relate.

The Wolf Children encapsulates everything that makes Hosoda great: simple, relatable stories? Fluid animation that’s lively? A powerful score, one complete with a memorable end-credits song? Timeless themes? You get all of that and more.

2013

2013, up until the last ¼, was terrible for movies. This was especially true for animation, as few high-profile releases of note came out. There were some exceptions, one of them being The Tale of the Princess Kaguya. It’s strange saying that, given my relationship with Isao Takahata’s work, but it’s true. Doubly-so considering that it’s my favourite Studio Ghibli movie of the 2010’s. Go figure!

Two aspects won me over: the first is the film’s desire to be something unique for Takahata, being a fantasy instead of a drama. That switch of genres allows it to fully embrace what animation’s capable of. The second is that the movie takes advantage of its runtime, with every minute feeling relevant. That’s something Takahata’s also struggled with before. It helps that the movie embraces its watercolour aesthetic, even going straight-out sketchy at times. You don’t see that often in animation.

This is a movie about loss. It touches on Japan’s patriarchal education system, and how that impacts youth. It touches on Japanese suicide/shut-in culture. It even deconstructs the princess narrative, highlighting how toxic it really is. It touches on many sad concepts, but it also embraces the struggles and beauty of living. For all these reasons, I can’t help loving it.

2014

2014 was a strong year. There were hard-hitting dramas and action movies, but nowhere was the year strongest than in animation. Yet while Big Hero 6 and How to Train Your Dragon 2 were really solid, my favourite is that one film no one had expectations for and came out pretty early on. Basically, The LEGO Movie really impressed me. I say that as someone who’s normally skeptical of big-budget films that film buffs seem to enjoy as much as, if not more than, regular moviegoers.

The movie’s great technically, even with its occasional dive into live-action. Not only does it mimic stop-motion animation perfectly, including fake smudge marks and scratches on the character models, it also takes full-advantage of its premise. Everything from the constant building of vehicles, to the weight and feel of the bricks, is all expertly realized, forcing multiple viewings to catch it all. It also has so many cameos, vocal and visual, that it’s hard not to appreciate the nods. This is also to LEGO what The MCU is to superheroes, possibly even more.

If that doesn’t fancy your interest, it’s also lots of fun. And it’s funny, especially with its brutal deconstruction of Batman. I can’t tell you how often I laughed while watching it, as well as how often I’ll continue to laugh while watching it in the future. This is storytelling that both deconstructs Hollywood while simultaneously praising it. And it does both successfully. I can’t recommend it enough.

2015

2015 would see the beginning of Disney and Pixar dominating the animated scene. In 2015, Pixar released two films. But while The Good Dinosaur disappointed critically and financially, Inside Out managed to please. It’s also one of my favourite Pixar films. And this is despite its troubled production.

This movie’s a miracle of storytelling. Pixar isn’t a stranger to using simple ideas to craft meta-narratives, it’s the studio’s modus operandi, but Inside Out was the first time that Pixar took a complicated idea, the human brain, and ran with it. And they still managed to make it easy to follow along. There’s no shortage of moments where the film could’ve collapsed, but it works! And it does so while managing to make the tears feel earned. That’s impressive!

I still find myself coming back to this one. Not only is it creative, but it’s funny. Not only is it funny, but it’s emotional. And not only is it emotional, but it’s wicked-clever. This is the film that even many seasoned talents would struggle with, but not Pixar! They thrive on challenging themselves, and Inside Out is proof that they’ve still got it.

2016

If 2015 was the year of Pixar, then 2016 was the year of Disney. This isn’t to disrespect Finding Dory, which I liked, but both of Disney’s offerings got people talking. Surprisingly, while everyone heaps praise on Zootopia, I actually enjoyed Moana more. I think part of that’s because, while not better-written, it feels a lot more cohesive. It feels like a traditional Disney movie.

At first glance, Moana isn’t even all that impressive: it’s a standard heroine’s journey. Like Kubo and the Two Strings, which also released that year, it also doesn’t hide how standard it is. Even one of the key conflicts, Moana and Maui’s argument following their failed attempt at restoring The Heart of Te-Fiti, is resolved off-screen. But it doesn’t matter, because the film makes up for it in execution.

Want a heroine you can root for? It’s there. Fantastic songs from the legendary Lin-Manuel Miranda? You got it. Some beautiful, picture-perfect animation, especially the water? Why not? And a climax that resolves on a peaceful note? If Moana doesn’t have that too, I’ll eat my metaphorical grass skirt.

2017

Rotating the roster again, 2017 was the year of dual Pixar releases. But I have to give it up for Coco. Not only is it Pixar’s most culturally-unique film, focusing on Mexico’s “Day of the Dead” festival, it’s also an interesting take on mortality. And no, it’s not a shameless “rip-off” of The Book of Life. Base concept aside, the two films are drastically different.

Coco continues the tradition of Pixar tackling heavy ideas. In this instance, like I said, it’s all about mortality. Whether it’s accepting the slow decline of dementia, playing a song to someone who’s fading, or realizing you were cheated out of fatherhood, this movie doesn’t play around. Everything, right down to the songs, is done with nuance and sincerity. It’s something that could’ve gone awry, but it didn’t. Because it’s Pixar.

If I had a complaint, it’s that Coco’s somewhat predictable. It does all the familiar plot beats well, including the twist villain, but still. You know all the developments before they happen, making their inclusions feel obvious. Especially the villain! Still, none of this hurts the end-product. Coco’s an absolute joy, right down to its tearful finale. I highly-recommend it!

2018

2018 was strong for animation. There was a lot of good content with Dreamworks (Captain Underpants), Pixar (Incredibles 2), Disney (Ralph Breaks the Internet) and anime (Mirai). But, for my buck, the most fun I had was with Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. It sounds like I’m cheating to go with the movie everyone loved, especially one so “corporate”, but it really is that good! It’s easily the best Spider-Man movie, that’s for sure! I guess that’s what happens when the duo behind The LEGO Movie are project overseers, huh?

Where do I begin? Do I talk about the technical aspect, the blend of comic aesthetic and CGI animation, and how it looks amazing and unique? Do I bring up how the movie, by making Miles Morales relatable, updates the Spider-Man concept for the 21st Century? Do I mention how great the voice acting is, especially from Nicholas Cage? Do I compliment the blend of humour and drama? Or do I remind everyone how the movie has the best post-credits stinger ever?

All of that’s important, but stopping there does it a disservice. Not only is the movie technically impressive and fun, but it manages to be both while remaining relevant. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is about the universality of Spider-Man, as well as what makes it so appealing. There’ve been many Spider-People over various comic runs, and there’ll probably be many more to come. Because Spider-Man is the every hero, and this movie embraces that. If that’s not enough to win Best Animated Feature fair-and-square, then I don’t know what is.

2019

We’re ending this with another Pixar film, obviously. 2019 was a solid year for film, even if I don’t think it was as good as the previous year. The only surprise was that Toy Story 4, a movie in the works for way too long and mired with production struggles, managed to be good. And not only good, but great. And not only great, but arguably the second-best entry after Toy Story 3. Considering Pixar’s hit-or-miss output in the 2010’s, especially with sequels, that’s impressive. Never doubt the power of Woody and Buzz, I guess?

The biggest tick in its favour is how it made an unnecessary plot-point from the previous movie, the disappearance of Bo Peep, and turned it into its greatest asset. Bo was never the most-interesting character prior, but this movie somehow gave her an arc and likeable personality. She also opens up a whole can of worms that was never addressed prior: what do you do when you’re not wanted as a toy? Do you get chucked, or do you embrace your “lost toy” status?

The movie also questions what it means to be a toy through Forky, emphasizing that a child’s love is more important than what you’re made of. Even the film’s antagonist, who’s tied to this theme, feels like an interesting take on the “twist villain” trope Pixar usually does, making for something unique. But that’s Toy Story 4’s legacy: expanding the scope of what was possible, enough to actually get me to cry. Was it required? No, but I’m glad it exists. And I think the previous movies are enhanced because of it.

That about wraps it up for this reflection on the past decade’s animated films. Be sure to give each one a watch, and I’ll see you next time!

Star Wars Defined-A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Fandom...

“No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans.” (Wise proverb.)

I’m late to this discussion. I had a 9-part retrospective series on my blog to wrap up, but I also wanted this to be as good as possible. Star Wars means a lot to many people, myself included. And I felt that the only way to accurately get my thoughts down for the Star Wars Defined series was to let the discourse die down. It’ll have been a few weeks anyway when this publishes, and most of the those interested will have seen the newest movie, so it made sense to wait.

I’ve said this before, but I didn’t grow up with the original trilogy. I was born in 1990, and the final film in that saga was already 7 years old. My official introduction to Star Wars was The Prequels, the first of which I saw at a friend’s birthday party in 1999. I remembered enjoying it, but hey! I was 9 years old. I enjoyed a lot of “garbage” as a kid.

But even as I got older, I never understood why The Prequels received such intense backlash. True, time hasn’t been kind to them. But they’re still films. They weren’t even the worst movies ever made, nor did they somehow “ruin Hollywood”. And even if they had, so what? We asked for more Star Wars, we have ourselves to blame.

This was also my first introduction to toxic fandom, in high school. I owned my first laptop, had official access to the internet and could see what people had to say for the first time. It’s true that the internet was vastly different in 2006, but some parts remained consistent with now. Key among them was how vitriolic and possessive people were about entertainment.

Star Wars backlash isn’t anything new. As HelloGreedo has pointed out, it can be traced back to 1980, when Star Wars Ep. V: The Empire Strikes Back debuted. We remember that movie fondly now, but almost 40 years of hindsight can do that. When it first came out, however, people were pissed. They found that it didn’t meet expectations, instead challenging them, and that its bittersweet ending made them uncomfortable. Even fan letters screamed “This isn’t what I wanted!”, showing that toxic fandom existed then.

Perhaps that’s why the next entry felt like a course correction. Whereas Star Wars Ep. V: The Empire Strikes Back was slow and drawn out, Star Wars Ep. VI: Return of the Jedi was quick and to the point. Whereas the former had heavy themes, the latter had light ones. And whereas the former ended on a downer, the latter ended on a happy one. It was no contest: the latter was more satisfying.

Except…not really. As people have pointed out in recent years, time hasn’t been as kind. Speaking personally, the movie’s first act was sloppy leftovers, while many of the character resolutions were rushed or underdeveloped. This was especially true with Emperor Palpatine, whose death, to this day, feels anticlimactic. It wasn’t a bad movie, it had some great moments involving Luke’s temptation to The Dark Side, but it never coalesced the way it could’ve. But fans were happy, so what do I know?

The real issue started when The Prequels pissed fans off. I won’t reiterate my own thoughts, it’d take too long, but I find it bizarre how offended people were. I remember one of my local papers, following the release of Star Wars Ep. II: Attack of the Clones, having kids write in to express their dissatisfaction. One of them compared Anakin’s line about sand to something barf-worthy. Okay…

The discourse turned around a bit come Star Wars Ep. III: Revenge of the Sith, but even then it was pretty vitriolic. If you frequent the film’s IMDB page, you’ll find that most reviews are either neutral, or downright vile. Some have claimed that George Lucas “raped their childhoods”, which is a little overdramatic. The fact that people get so worked up over what, to paraphrase Patrick Willems, amounts to a space opera about fantasy wizards for children concerns me. It makes me wonder if Star Wars fans got that memo.

Which leads to post-Disney acquisition, and the weird backlash that their output’s received. Whether it’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens being a “lazy rehash of nostalgia”, Star Wars: The Last Jedi “deviating in weird directions”, or the spin-offs feeling like “unnecessary Wikipedia entries”, Star Wars simply can’t win. Even Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, with its attempts at course overcorrection, can’t win. And while I won’t give any spoilers, in case some of you still haven’t seen it, I often wonder if we’re watching the same movies.

What do we expect from Star Wars, after all? It’s not Casablanca. It lacks the sophistication of The Godfather films. Even in terms of action spectacle, I can think of several franchises with better acting, writing and, possibly, special effects. Star Wars is pulpy, frequently schmaltzy, occasionally weird and sometimes lazy. It’s gone in both good and bad places over its almost 43 year run, often simultaneously. And that’s okay. You don’t have to like all of its choices, I don’t, but with the way that fans talk about it, you’d think it was trying to murder us!

And that’s not okay. That’s not healthy. It’s actually scary, especially since the franchise was meant for children. That’s not to say that it shouldn’t have standards, it should, but that doesn’t mean that going in a different direction than you’d hoped is a justifiable cause for bile. It’s not.

I’m also concerned what’ll happen when kids watching Star Wars now grow up and become adults. Will they be equally as vitriolic to newer films, demanding they live up to what Disney’s first wave had to offer? Will they be mad that Rey, who’s seen her share of struggle, will have her ideology challenged, like how Luke was challenged by Rey? And will the discourse over the films devolve into a series of “NO U”s again, with defenders and detractors refusing to acknowledge who the target demographic is? The thought of Gen Z fans becoming old coots over Star Wars, which is supposed to be for kids, makes me wonder if humanity really deserves this franchise.

*Sigh*

Perhaps I’m biased. I’ve enjoyed every Star Wars-related property to an extent, and that’s potentially clouded my judgement. But it also gives me a certain clarity to realize that I’m not really the franchise’s target demographic. And that’s okay. If little kids are being inspired by Star Wars, only to grow up and create their own art, then who am I to judge? What good do I accomplish by claiming that Star Wars has to be for me and me alone?

I guess my concern is that we’ve forgotten why we loved Star Wars. And not only toxic fans, but even some of the more critical ones. Star Wars isn’t solely about subverting expectations, or tickling the nostalgic funny-bone. It isn’t only about challenging you, or pleasing you. It’s about the struggles between good and evil, set to a sci-fi backdrop, and culminating in a soap opera story about space wizards. And Star Wars fans need that reminder a little more often.