Highlights: 2012's Most Underrated Film...

...is Brave.

Pixar has got a lot of flak for choosing a "princess" story for their first film with a female protagonist, but that criticism misses the point. Brave wasn't just any other princess story. It had grander ideas and twisted our expectations of the subgenre on its head. I would love to elaborate on the idea, but nothing I say can be as eloquent and all-encompassing as this brilliant piece by Lili Loofbourow of The New Inquiry. I urge you to read it and give Brave another shot if it didn't work for you the first time around.


All 'Best of 2012' Entries...

Monday's Words of Wisdom

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. 

We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. 

But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so."

 - Anton Ego from Ratatouille

Finding Pixar, Ep. 4: Boo

Welcome back to my retrospective on Pixar in anticipation for Brave's release. So far we've looked at Toy Story, A Bug's Life and Toy Story 2. Today, it is my pleasure that Mayukh, one of my favourite bloggers and another member of Team Experience, has decided to contribute to the series with his brilliant piece on Pixar's fourth film, Monsters Inc.

Mayukh and I differ on our level of enthusiasm for the film and the studio's work in general, but we do agree on one thing: Boo is one of Pixar's most complicated and essential creations. His look at the character is so critical I almost wish I could convince him to give the same treatment to every one of their films. 

I have realized that different screenings of the film over time have changed my relationship with this character but I've always connected with her one way or another. The changing perspective I've had on her from the time I first saw the film as a thirteen year old to my last revisit a few weeks ago is summarized in Mayukh's closing paragraph:

"Pixar’s best films are the ones in which they begin to question what we, as humans, lose when we grow up – what we abandon in this transition to cynical, jaded adulthood. What's so gently sad about Boo is that we know she'll grow out of this odd, fantastic fixation she has on some anthropomorphic creature that's a product of her storybook mind. As she grows older, she'll no longer be the judge – the world around her will definitively teach her who is and isn't a monster." 

I can only absorb this gentle sadness today but with regards to Pixar's earlier work, perhaps up to and including this film, I will always maintain a careless and childish connection with the world they occupy because my first encounter with them happened before I, myself, made that transition to my cynical adulthood. 

Mayukh has an interesting way of thinking about Boo and there's plenty to chew on before this closing paragraph, including a comparison between Pete Docter's views on the "outside world" and Terrence Malick's morality in The Tree of Life! You can read his full piece here. And check back as I go through the remainder of Pixar's catalogue with the help of more guest bloggers!

Finding Pixar, Ep. 3: Great Scenes Coming Back

Welcome to the third part of my Pixar retrospective and apologies for the long delay between episodes. We’ll finish this before Brave comes out, I promise. You can see the first two episodes here and here. Today we’re on to Pixar’s third film and back in trilogy territory.  

Toy Story 2 has the unenviable position of being the second installment in a trilogy that begins with the film that started it all for Pixar and ends with one of the greatest animated films – or films of any kind, if you ask me – ever to grace the silver screen. Luckily for us, it lives up to the standard set by the bookending episodes. Despite the similarity of its narrative to the first film, Toy Story 2 is still representative of Pixar at their most exciting, adventurous, witty and hilarious. 

That bar of quality is not a surprise to anyone. What did surprise me after re-watching the film, however, was that the two sequences that I remembered most vividly from my childhood remain the standouts today. 

The first one, Woody’s repair job by the old toymaker, is one of Pixar’s most dazzling visual achievements and an embodiment of their obsessive attention to detail. It’s a significant piece in the plot as well, since we’ve seen Woody worrying about how Andy might treat him if his arm is torn off and despite the repair, the tear comes back near the end of the film to teach the audience an existential lesson – though as is always the case with Pixar, the lesson is taught in disguise and without any preaching. 

The second and the more important sequence is Jessie’s story about her owner Emily. It shook me as a kid and still gives me goose-bumps now, but if I say it is an important scene it is for two reasons. First, because it’s a direct inspiration, in terms of narration and visuals, for one of the terrific sequences in the third film: Chuckles’ story about Lotso’s background. Second, it had an immensely moving two-fold effect on me as a kid. I did not want to become Emily so I vowed never to give up my toys – you can imagine how that’s turned out 13 years later – and I also did not want to become Jessie. Again, this existential question – what do the toys mean if they’re not played with - has been a central theme in the series and Jessie’s relationship with Emily epitomizes it. I will discuss that theme and how it transcends the toys when I get to the third film, but this touching moment visually realizes Jessie’s identity questions and it’s a beautifully crafted way of showing the transition to adolescence. 

The transition of Emily's room from childhood to her teenage years

Finding Pixar, Ep. 2: Forgotten Treasure

Welcome back to our Pixar retrospective, in anticipation for Brave, the studio's upcoming feature. I've posted the new episode over at The Film Experience. Pixar's second film, A Bug's Life, is not discussed as frequently as the studio's other works for several possible reasons. It isn't usually ranked as highly as the Toy Story films, WALL-E or Finding Nemo either but it's still a marvelous film and in fact, one of their finer adventure pieces.

Anyway, head over there and chime in with your thoughts. If you missed the first episode of the series, you can catch up here.

Finding Pixar, Ep. 1: How Toy Story Started A Love Affair

Welcome to Finding Pixar, a new series that will serve as your guide through the studio’s catalogue in anticipation for their upcoming feature, Brave. We’ll be looking at each of their films chronologically every Monday. Now, I know what you’re all thinking. “But Amir, Brave is released in 11 weeks and there are 12 Pixar films.” That’s true, but since we’re starting one week late, we’ll have to cover both Cars films in one episode. Who among you really wants to read about the second one anyway?

Pixar’s status among studios is unique, both because of the specialty of the films it produces and because of their general quality. It is also unique because despite the relatively young age of the studio, the amount of writing on their work – academic, professional or otherwise – is outstanding. My generation – I was 7 when Toy Story came out – grew up with Pixar’s cinema and younger generations have actually been introduced to animation first through Pixar and then everything that came before it. It’s been a cultural phenomenon that has really become inseparable from the experience of cinephiles and kids in the past two decades.

Though their work really stretches all the way back to A Computer Animated Hand and their short animation repertoire is just as valuable, this series is focused on feature length films and their evolution. Kicking things off, of course, is John Lasseter’s Toy Story (1995), arguably one of the most influential films of its decade and the film that brought Pixar to the attention of a worldwide audience.

My Story

Foreign films are not released theatrically in Iran so the first time I was treated to a delicious Pixar dish on the big screen was in 2007 with Ratatouille. My first experience with Toy Story must have happened sometime in 1996 on a VHS tape. I cherished all the tapes I owned and I’d watched the likes of Beauty and the Beast (previously discussed here) and 101 Dalmatians hundreds of times. Toy Story was a whole new experience though.

It was beyond me to understand how that effect was executed but it felt like seeing my real plastic toys on the screen. Those effects look pedestrian today when you compare them with the same characters in Toy Story 3, but it was revolutionary at the time. Toy Story triggered my imagination like nothing else. I was blown away by the story and recreated endless plots in my head involving my toys and what they did when I wasn’t around. It was magical and I think that child still awakes inside me every time I watch a new Pixar film. Toy Story was just when my love affair with Pixar started.

Pixar’s real achievement has always been their successful integration of adult themes in the children’s universe. One can argue that the reason Toy Story holds up so well today is that it never feels like a kids’ movie. It is, above everything, a film about camaraderie, about how friendships are developed and how they evolve. Without a trace of didacticism and with utmost energy and playfulness, Toy Story subconsciously taught me everything about treating my friends right and sticking with them at hard times. It told me not to judge people based on their appearances; and I’d be hard-pressed to find another moment in my life that taught me that more thoroughly than when Sid’s terrifyingly dismembered toys help Woody and Buzz out in their escape.

Watching the film again for this write-up, I had the same feeling I had in the theatre for Toy Story 3: like these characters had never gone away from my life. The key is in the way the Pixar team treats them, not like toys, but with maturity and respect. The story is as engaging for adults as it is for kids because the toys transcend their plastic materiality and become relatable for anyone at any age. This respect for the story and for children has become a staple of Pixar's work, but it is epitomized here because the protagonists are not even human. Yet, Lasseter finds a way to make them human and worthy of our compassion. Toy Story may not be my favourite Pixar film, but it always holds a special place in my heart for kick-starting what I think is, along with Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Trois Couleurs, the greatest trilogy of all time.