Wednesday Classics, Vol. 5: Pixar

With the recent release of Up, Pixar Animation Studios have reached their tenth movie, and I wanted to take the occasion to take a look back at the amazing track record John Lasseter's merry band have left behind them. There are ten reviews to write, so I'll forgo the lengthy introductory essay and get right to it.

Toy Story
(1995)
The template for every Pixar film was already firmly in place with the release of their first movie, Toy Story. It featured a score provided by Randy Newman (he would score Toy Story, A Bug's Life, Toy Story 2, Monsters, Inc., and Cars), state-of-the-art computer graphics, and a water-tight story, all of which have become Pixar trademarks. But what really makes it Pixar is the way the story is driven by the characters. Nothing in a Pixar movie happens just to have something happen; it all spins out of the characters and their motives, their relationships. By modern standards, it looks downright archaic, but Pixar's first film is still one of their best.
Grade: A

A Bug's Life
(1998)
An inconvenient hiccup of timing left A Bug's Life marked, in some circles, as a less intellectual, younger sibling to Dreamworks' Antz, released in the same season. That may be true, but they weren't aiming for the same audience. Antz was aiming for the adults, while A Bug's Life was for everyone. Toy Story suggested that Pixar had a way with slapstick, and they honed that sensibility here. Toy Story had a sophisticated edge to some of its jokes, and Pixar ran with the balance of humour for young and old here. The story and characters are strong as ever, and, while it may not measure up to most of the Pixar output, A Bug's Life is still a stellar achievement.
Grade: A-

Toy Story 2
(1999)
Toy Story 2 is a masterclass in writing a sequel. The continuity of the first film is preserved; we aren't given some half-baked excuse for a new adventure, it's logically built off of what's come before. The humour is still intact, and even developed. All the familiar characters from before have returned, and the new characters introduced neither outshine nor pale in comparison to the old guard; they feel as though they fit all along. We learn more about the histories of the characters; Buzz and Woody have their origins filled out in authentic, unforced ways. It's perfect, really.
Grade: A+

Monsters, Inc.
(2001)
I'm not sure how it works, exactly, but Pixar make their films in such a way that I am able to enjoy them simultaneously on both an artistic and a technical level. Yes, the story of Monsters, Inc. is clever and original. Yes, the characters are, as ever, strong. Yes, the sense of humour is there. But, my God, would you LOOK at that fur! Honestly. It was worth the cost of admission simply for the fur. It is not, objectively speaking, one of the stronger Pixar films, but it has a lot to live up to.
Grade: B

Finding Nemo
(2003)
Here we have what is widely considered the crown jewel of the Pixar empire. Finding Nemo actually is just as good as you've heard. It may even be better. The story, again, is water-tight (no pun intended), and the characters are wonderful. It speaks volumes for this movie that Ellen Degeneres was able to relaunch her career off the back of a voiceover role. It looks good, it's as colourful a movie as you'll ever see, and the relationships between the characters this time around are flawless. You can see Marlin growing fonder and fonder of Dory as the film progresses. In the Pixar canon, Toy Story 2 is the (relatively) unsung masterpiece, but Finding Nemo, thus far, is the studio's magnum opus.
Grade: A+

The Incredibles
(2004)
Brad Bird is responsible for this, and it shows. Bird has been around in animation for a long time, but he made his name with The Iron Giant, a masterpiece of animation that remains disconcertingly unfamiliar to the greater public. The Incredibles was written to be hand animated, but John Lasseter asked if Bird wanted to make it with Pixar. He said yes. A dramatic departure for the studio in tone and content, The Incredibles is one of their best films. It's more serious than the other Pixar movies. It has more to say about society; says Mr. Incredible, "They keep coming up with new ways to celebrate mediocrity!" The characters are defined, but subtle, and realistic. The motives are more complex than in any prior Pixar film, and, as a result, it is the most mature Pixar film, in every way. Not every animation studio would take a chance on a film like this.
Grade: A

Cars
(2006)
Every family has one, and most studios have several. The biggest "blemish" on Pixar's record is Cars, a film most animation studios would kill to make. It's not a surprise, though, and I'm disappointed Pixar didn't see it coming. Where Pixar has differed from every other studio is in, yes, I know, I keep saying, its characters, and that is the weakest link in Cars. The characters are enjoyable, and Tow Mater is the only thing Larry the Cable Guy should ever do, but they rely too heavily on stereotypes. The Volkswagon van is a stoner. The jeep is militaristic. Haha. Hoho. Now, I'm putting it down in relative light; it's a funny movie, it's never less than entertaining, and, as ever, it is well made. The stereotypes aren't so bad for a children's animated movie, but, by Pixar standards, it's for shame. You may ask yourself why there's a sequel in the works for their weakest film, and while I like to think it's because they feel like they could do better, it's hard to ignore the $5 billion in merchandise sales this film generated. Cars was a disappointment, but if the sequel isn't up to snuff, that will be the first blatant attempt at consumerism on Pixar's part, and that will truly break my heart.
Grade: B-

Ratatouille
(2007)
It's gotten to the point, with Pixar, where I hold my breath each time I hear about their next film. I keep waiting for The One, the irrifutably bad movie that will make them mortals, like any other studio. Before Brad Bird swooped in, at the urging of John Lasseter, Ratatouille was almost that film. During pre-production the previous director was removed, as the movie was not living up to the standards of Pixar. Bird was brought in, performed a major overhaul, and created an absolute gem of a film. It is the most visually sumptuous of all the Pixar movies, and marks a point of departure for the studio. The Incredibles aside, The Old Testament phase of Pixar was buddy comedies, with minor variations here and there. Ratatouille begins the New Testament, where Pixar started taking more chances with its stories. Given the results so far, I encourage the behaviour.
Grade: A

WALL-E
(2008)
Now the studio has balls. From Andrew Stanton, the director of Finding Nemo, we have the most unusual Pixar film. Consider a children's movie where the first half hour is practically silent. Consider an adult movie where that happens, even. WALL-E features two protagonists incapable of speaking much more than their names, but it never stops us from connecting. A powerhouse of animation, WALL-E's emotions are conveyed entirely through body language and "eye" movement. Again, he's got character. The story is involving and dramatic, and distinctly funny. If the environmental overtones are a bit too prominent, they don't distract from the story, and Pixar prove that risk-taking still makes for great movies.
Grade: A

Up
(2009)
Outside of the amazing rendering behind those balloons (the colours!), the trailer for Up had me less than excited. I was ready for this to be The One. When I saw it in theaters, the opening ten minutes put my fears to rest, and made me realise just how wrong I was. Those first ten minutes encompass everything that makes Pixar great; for one, there is some sublime slapstick comedy. For another, the childhood relationship between Carl Frederickson and his future wife is established quickly, effectively, and endearingly. There are no words spoken as we watch them live life together, nor as we watch her grow ill, and, ultimately, die. The first ten minutes of Up were more emotionally touching than anything I've seen in the last two or three years. The rest of the movie has all the trappings of a wonderful, New Testament Pixar movie; a slightly askew story, wonderful characters, and ample humour.
Grade: A

So, there you have it. The first ten Pixar films. All of them are classics of the medium, most of them are classic films regardless. The next Pixar venture is Toy Story 3. I'm nervous, as is my habit, that it will be The One. But then I saw the teaser trailer, which is nothing more than Woody, Buzz and the crew fashioning a logo for the movie; hearing Tom Hanks and Tim Allen voicing their roles again actually made me feel good. It was nice to hear the characters again, and I can't wait to see how they fair this time around. That's what Pixar does so well. In their best films, they create characters who become parts of your life, who feel more real in some ways than any real-life character ever could. Thanks to Pixar, animation isn't a genre anymore, it has risen to the level of Medium, through which any type of story can be told.

Wednesday Classics, Vol. 4: Odessey and Oracle

Odessey and Oracle
(1968)
The Zombies

Legend has it that the engineers employed at Abbey Road Studios were relieved. It was May of 1967, and The Beatles had just finished recording Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. While the results were certainly worth the effort, Sgt. Pepper's had been an exhaustive experience, and the engineers were looking forward to a return to more traditional methods of recording. They'd just started dismantling the modified tape machine, when The Zombies walked in, asked them what they were doing, and told them to stop immediately. So much for a return to tradition, it would seem.

And three cheers for that. Lined with harmonies and layers, the sound of this album is full, lush, and always absorbing, without ever feeling cluttered. It's easy to keep piling on more; Be Here Now had as many as fifty guitar parts on every song. The trick is knowing how much is just right, and how to mix it. The Zombies were great at both.

The album opens with "Care of Cell 44," which, I can reveal, is the inspiration for my Blogger ID, CC44. Whenever I'm pressured to name my favourite song, I turn to "Care of Cell 44." It has a big, ebullant, brilliantly happy chorus. It's impossible to have a bad day when you listen to it. Colin Blumstone's voice is charming, and the arrangements are constantly shifting in subtle, dynamic ways. It's the perfect pop song, which means it's the perfect song.

"A Rose For Emily" is probably the most beautiful piece of art directly inspired by Faulkner, though I can't say that for certain. A simple, repeating piano figure backs Blumstone's lead vocal, which is unaccompanied until the choruses, which feature ample backing harmonies. One of the things I love most about this album is the emphasis it places on the lead vocal, never featuring dual-leads or harmonies on the lead. The melody is the melody, and what melodies these are. "Maybe After He's Gone," has a sing-along chorus and windy but complimentary verses. "Brief Candles" has another brilliant, brilliant chorus; they make these things seem easy.

"I Want Her She Wants Me" is the single happiest love song you'll ever hear. I mean it. It's happy, it delights in that first rush of love, but it's never, ever schmaltzy, even by today's standards. The album closes with "Time of the Season," a song I appreciate more as I get older. I used to think it was boring. How little did I know? The harmonies are astonishing. The "Clap, AHHH" hook is brilliant. The bass sound is simple and perfect. The reverb on the vocals is absolutely fantastic.

There is nothing wrong with this album. I usually mean that as an insult, as it is usually evidence that an album didn't try anything new, that the artists didn't branch out. That's not the case here. New things were tried. New things were brilliantly executed. And it holds up better than anything. My favourite album? It might be. It really might.

Grade: A+

Wednesday Classics, Vol. 3: Amadeus

Amadeus
(1984)
Written by Peter Shaffer
Directed by Milos Forman
Starring F. Murray Abraham, Tom Hulce

It really is a great movie. I was going to try to be technical and acute about this, but there's no point in trying. The Wednesday Classics aren't about dissecting what makes something great, and often times it's impossible to even attempt that.

Amadeus is one of the great films, and it is my choice for the greatest movie made to date (Ever assumes nothing made after this could better it, something I choose not to believe). The demons Salieri (Abraham) wrestles with are profound, and superb. At a young age, he offers his chastity to God in exchange for the ability to bring Him glory through great music. For the longest time, he believes that the bargain is being upheld, until he discovers Mozart, the gifts Mozart possesses, and the manner in which Mozart carries himself. Salieri believes that Mozart is giving God voice through music, that God has chosen this contemptable individual to be His vessel, and vows to destroy Mozart.

But don't let that stop you! I know it can sound over done, but it's really not. The movie is filled with brilliant moment after brilliant moment; a personal favourite is just before the first time we meet Mozart, when Salieri is walking around the room, trying to see if he can tell which of the people at the party is Mozart, wondering to himself if such genius is apparent on one's face. Moments like that take my breath away, regularly, and they are tossed off as though they are nothing, which, I suppose, is part of why they work. Moments like that which are focused on can seem obvious, or cheesy. The delivery here is such that you can only watch in amazement.

There's not much bad to say about it, though it may be too long (2.5 hours) or too slow for some. I don't have a problem with it. The whole affair is driven, as all the best stories are, by the characters, by what they want and what they desire. It is not meant to be a historically accurate representation of events, and you would do well to keep that in mind as well. It is a character study using the real figures of Antonio Salieri and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to frame itself around. Nothing here can be improved. Nothing need be. Perfection.

Grade: A+

Too Many Notes

I am attempting to write the third volume of Wednesday Classics about Milos Forman's Amadeus. I am encountering more difficulties than I had originally expected, as I'm having a hard time focusing what I want to say. There is simply too much to say about The Greatest Movie Yet Filmed, and I can't get it to work. But it holds its honorary slot as Volume 3, and I'll get to it. Hopefully tomorrow. Volume 4 shall appear shortly, however.

Wednesday Classics, Vol. 2: Sail Away

Sail Away
(1972)
Randy Newman

There's much, much more to this man than Toy Story. To those of you who are already aware, that will seem like an obvious statement, but it's not. Many people of my age group don't know Randy Newman outside of two things; The music he wrote for various Pixar films, and his appearance on Family Guy. Go ahead, talk about Lois biting the apple. He's one of the great songwriters of the pop era. He earned that skewering.

On his first, self-titled album, Randy Newman wrote mostly off-kilter love songs. On his second, 12 Songs, he started to reach out. Sail Away is when he figures out just what exactly he's capable of. The title track introduces popular music to the concept of the unreliable narrator. Think of it as a Mark Twain book rendered in song. It's a sales pitch given by a slave trader to a group of Africans, persuading them to come to America. He describes America as a wondrous place, without a hint of insincerity. It's a stirring ode to the United States if you aren't paying attention. "Lonely at the Top" is an examination of an egotistical showman; "I've been around the world, had my pick of every girl. You'd think I'd be happy, but I'm not." It's bluesy and boozy, a wonderful song, and it's even funnier if you listen to it aware that Newman wrote it for Frank Sinatra, who (understandably) wouldn't touch it. "He Gives Us All His Love" addresses God, from the perspective of humanity. It can be read as sincere, and has even been covered by Christian Rock bands, or it can be read as sarcastic and withering. Given the track the album ends with, the latter seems more likely. "Political Science" is written in the guise of a man who believes we should nuke the world (except Australia, don't want to hurt no kangaroos), to solve all our problems.

The album ends with the astonishing "God's Song (That's Why I Love Mankind)." It's effect when you listen to the album is devastating. Over a quiet, sparse blues shuffle, Newman speaks as God, and what makes it eerie is how thoroughly accurate he sounds:

I burn down your cities, how blind you must be.
I take from you your children, and you say, "How blessed are we?'
You all must be crazy to put your faith in me.
That's why I love mankind.
You really need me...
That's why I love mankind.

Grade: A+

Wednesday Classics, Vol. 1: While You Were Sleeping

While You Were Sleeping
(1995)
Directed by Jon Turteltaub
Written by Daniel G. Sullivan & Frederic LeBow
Starring Sandra Bullock, Bill Pullman

Yes, I am starting my "Wednesday Classics" with While You Were Sleeping. Originally, it was going to be Amadeus, which I believe to be the finest movie yet written, but then I watched this again, and decided to stake my notice here and now that not all the films featured in this bi-weekly column will be critical darlings. They are my darlings. My favourite films. There will be your Seven Samurais and your Casablancas, but there will always be room for your While You Were Sleepings.

What you need to know of the plot if you haven't seen it is that Lucy (Sandra Bullock) ends up being mistaken for Peter Callahan's (Peter Gallagher) fiance by Peter's family, while Peter is in a coma. They take her in over the holidays, and she grows to genuinely love them, and so is afraid to tell them the truth. Things get more complicated when she meets and falls for Jack Callahan (Bill Pullman), Peter's brother. But, of course, we know things aren't complicated. She will end up with Jack, because, well, those are the rules of this movie. And you don't question them.

It's a formulaic movie. It never jostles you. Nothing ultimately happens that we don't expect. And that's part of its formidable charm. Charm, in fact, is what this movie runs on. The writing is fine, but it's elevated by a slew of perfectly-played performances. It never makes you laugh out loud, but it always makes you smile, and it's a warm smile. You grow to care for all the people in the movie as you would for your family, if you felt about your family the way the Callahan family feel for one another... if that makes sense. And this is to say nothing of how you'll adore Lucy. Because you will. You really, really will.

Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman are pitch-perfect for one another. They have a good chemistry, and you really sense how much they care for one another over the course of events that lead to them getting married. You know about twenty minutes into this movie that it's heading for that, but it's still fun to watch. I've seen this movie countless times since I was little, and I still squeal with glee and delight every time it reaches the end, when Lucy's mindlessly taking tokens, only to hear the *ding of an engagement ring. She looks up, and there's Jack, with the Callahan Family (with the exception of Saul, they travel as a pack constantly). He asks if he can come in to ask her a question. She says she can't. He looks crestfallen. She says, "Not without a token." He tosses one in without even looking. She starts to smile uncontrollably. He asks her to marry him. She says "Yeah." I stop squealing right around here, but only because I have to breath, lest I pass out. By the time this movie ends, my jaw hurts from smiling so much. And I absolutely love it.

Grade: A+

Wednesday Classics will alternate, each week, between an album and a movie. Stay tuned!