THE CLASSICS: "12 Angry Men" Is More Than A Mere Ensemble Talkie

In the wake of the current ongoing pandemic across the nation as well as the world, the American Film Institute launched a "Movie Club" as a celebration and recognition of big-screen inspiration, expression, and escapism. 

Many famous stars and filmmakers have presented various selected films on social media, including the nonprofit organization (established in 1967)'s website. And in honor of this "global, virtual gathering of those who love the movies,"  one classic I'll recommend--which I saw for the first time recently--is 1957's 12 Angry Men. 

Adapted from Reginald Ross's teleplay (he wrote the film's script, and co-produced with lead actor Henry Fonda), this courtroom drama marked the directorial debut of Sidney Lumet, and is a prime example of what separates film and cinema from books and stage plays.

On the surface, it's a simple talking picture centered around an ensemble of a dozen celebrated actors (i.e., Lee J. Cobb, Martin Balsam, John Fiedler, E.G. Marshall, Jack Klugman, Jack Warden, Edward Binns, Joseph Sweeney, Ed Begley, George Voskovec, Robert Webber, and, of course, Fonda). What elevates these jury members' discussion of a young man convicted of murder (and a turn of "guilty" votes, initiated by a "not guilty" plea from Fonda's Juror #8) are the technical achievements that immerse viewers in a way stage and books don't. 

From camera angles and lenses, to close ups, and rhythmic character-driven tracking shots, there is a subtle transition from above eye level to below eye level, giving the whole experience a very cinematic and engrossing edge. Meanwhile, these characters (some of whom initially appear as insignificant nuances) slowly reveal their views on the central matter, including their own prejudices and forms of ignorance and deep-seated animosity no different than what the defendant has apparently faced. Some of them could care less about the whole situation. Some even stare blankly at the camera (a trademark director Jonathan Demme would later apply to his own career). "Wherever you look," Juror #8 tells us, "Prejudice always obscures the truth." 

If anything, 12 Angry Men is a great case of what the U.S. Constitution represents, how conflict resolution techniques should be utilized, and the difference that one individual's observations--over preconceptions--can make; not out of force, but from careful inquiry and not simply going through the motions. On a deeper level, it challenges viewers to evaluate human life and develop understanding and empathy. Now there's a worthwhile message for these unprecedented times. 

THE CLASSICS: "Chariots of Fire" Still Runs Its Course

I first became aware of the true stories of Olympic runners Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams while in High School. This was when I first saw the 1981 sports drama "Chariots of Fire," famous for its iconic running theme.

I returned to this story of class, drive, and ambition years later when I began developing my skills as a writer and movie viewer (or, examiner, as I prefer) more seriously; ditto my own journey of faith. At least three things about this surprise-Best-Picture-Oscar-winner strike me: its emphasis on its central character arcs (while using sports as a mere backdrop and payoff), its human empathy, and its deep relevance for people of faith.

Hollywood has had a history of mainstream or secular actors playing real-life religious or faith-based characters, from Anthony Hopkins as C.S. Lewis (1993's Shadowlands) to Andrew Garfield as Desmond Doss (2016's Hacksaw Ridge) and, more recently, Jonathan Pryce as Pope Francis (last year's The Two Popes). Here, the late Ian Charlston portrays Liddell, a Scottish missionary who uses his running for Christian purposes. This contrasts with the Cambridge student Abrahams (a Jewish son of a Lithuanian immigrant), who uses it as a means of pride and self-respect against racial prejudice. Both men competed in the 1924 games in Paris, only less than a decade after the world was still recovering from the first war.

From a filmmaking standpoint, director Hugh Hudson did an interesting thing I'd like to mention. He played certain race sequences in real time, and then rehashed them in slow-motion, such as when Abrahams and Liddell compete for the first time, and the former's self-drive is initially crushed. (The same goes for Vangelis's experimental score, which juxtaposes electronic instruments with period drama; and this was only one year before he composed Ridley Scott's sci-fi thriller Blade Runner.)

Reflecting on my high school and college years, the film's themes of success and competition are something I can identity with. The way Abrahams and Liddell face various forms of personal conflict, conviction, and integrity is genuine, contemplative, challenging, gripping, and (by the end) moving, considering the respective impacts on themselves and those around them.

The spiritual and moral themes of Chariots of Fire are worthwhile, especially for families and young adults (namely students) looking for inspiration in this present time of isolation, self-reflection, and hope for eventual victory, both personally and collectively.

Films of the Decade: The 2010s

The 2010s were a time of exponential growth in film, in terms of new and developing technology, inclusion, and sophisticated storytelling. Oh, and franchises.

Superheroes and comic book characters became "the norm" at the box-office, while a few series dating back to the Sixties and Seventies (like Star Wars) opened up new and exciting (if divisive) doors. Revived interest in the space race was evident in various science-fiction-related flicks. Disney animation also made a comeback, as did the horror genre.

Like television in the 1950s, movie houses had to compete with streaming services. The overemphasized option to see the latest blockbuster hits in 3-D came and went (mostly). And for a period of time, it seemed as if shooting films on 35mm Kodak print was dead and digital was the future; though, many directors have long advocated for shooting on the former. Some even made milestones with IMAX cameras (we're looking at you, Christopher Nolan and Marvel's Avengers finales).

But perhaps the most important part of this decade of cinema was representation on screen, from women to minorities, to cultures whose stories and worlds are rarely ever told. Not to mention stories that are life-affirming.

With that being said, here's a list of criteria I used in deciding my picks for this decade's standout films:

--Is it a thematically- and superbly-written film?
--Is it artistically-made?
--Is it a critical and/or commercial success? More than that, has it potentially gained traction and acclaim in subsequent years?
--Does it have universal appeal?
--Are there no more than 2 or 3 films per year on this list? (Honestly, this was a hard choice, as there were some years--one, in particular--when many extraordinary films were released.)
--Does this list balance genres and mediums?
--Is this a film that changed the way we view cinema?

***

Here are a few quick notable mentions that didn't make the cut, but are still worth discussing.

The Farewell (2019)
An engrossing drama about a Chinese family matriarch whose cancer diagnosis is kept hidden, and a forged wedding is staged as an excuse to bring relatives together one last time. Writer-director Lulu Wang first adapted her semiautobiography--"based on an actual lie"--as a short piece for NPR's "This American Life." With the support of indie studio A24, and a cast that includes rising comedienne Awkwafina (in a radical dramatic turn) and Shuzhen Zhao (as the family grandmother, endearing and confident), The Farewell speaks to a familial and cultural legacy, unbreakable bonds, and the courage to face the future.

The Lego Movie (2014)
Phil Lord and Christopher Miller are some of this decade's most accomplished filmmakers. Their sophomoric effort (following 2009's eye-popping and entertaining Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs) takes what initially sounds like a corporate cash-cow of a giant toy conglomerate (Transformers, anybody?) and crafts it into a consistently funny, clever, creative, and surprisingly touching story of plastic Lego characters on a mission to stop a power-hungry villain from (literally) gluing the entire Lego universe together. Made as if from a child's imagination--but that's the point, compared with the ways adults use such "toys". A perfect voice cast (Chris Pratt, Will Ferrell, Elizabeth Banks, Will Arnet, Liam Neeson, Morgan Freeman, Nick Offerman) and a catchy song make The Lego Movie awesome for all ages.

A Quiet Place (2018)
Essential a "silent" film in the guise of a horror movie, A Quiet Place centers on a family surviving in a post-apocalyptic world where any noise triggers sound-sensitive extra-terrestrial monsters. An attention-to-detail script by Bryan Woods and Scott Beck, and brilliant direction by John Krasinski (who cast wife Emily Blunt alongside child actors Noah Jupe and Millicent Simonds), keep viewers engaged and on edge. A rare genre film with real substance and genuine terror (the most striking image being a pregnant Blunt, hiding in a bathtub), while emphasizing the fears of parents raising and preparing children in an uncertain world.

Short Term 12 (2013)
Destin Daniel Cretton wrote and directed this brutally-honest coming-of-age story about group home counselors whose lives are no different then the troubled at-risk teenagers they supervise on a daily basis. A raw but very genuine experience. Features breakout performances from many actors and actresses whose careers have only developed over the years, including Brie Larson (Captain Marvel), Lakieth Stanfield (Atlanta), Rami Malek (Bohemian Rhapsody), Kaitlyn Dever (Booksmart), and Stephanie Beatriz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine).

The Tree of Life (2011)
Director Terrence Malick's magnum opus juxtaposes the story of a 1950s American family inter-cut with the creation of life itself. A bold, unconventional, and impressionistic mosaic of human emotion and astounding views of nature that is stunning, ethereal, and deeply evocative. Not so much driven by conventional narrative as by memories and experiences. Still, it does boast some brilliant performances from Brad Pitt and especially Jessica Chastain.

Won't You Be My Neighbor? (2018)
Morgan Neville directs this wonderful documentary on the life and legacy of Fred Rogers and his impact through the beloved PBS series "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood". With remarkable insight into Rogers' lifestyle and his desire to help children deal with the world in positive ways, this is a much-needed example and motivator in a divisive era where similar figures and role models are hard to come by.

***

Here are my picks for the standout films of the 2010s.

10. Arrival (2016)
Director Denis Villeneuve adapted Ted Chiang's original short piece, "Story of Your Life," into an intelligent, mysterious, bleak, and moving sci-fi drama about first contact, communication, and understanding--as well as memory and time. Amy Adams (in arguably her best screen performance) plays a university linguist, called in to decipher messages from an unknown alien race in egg-shaped spaceships that have landed around the world. Supporting players Jeremy Renner and Forest Whitacker are, as always, engrossing as well.

9. 1917 (2019)
Director Sam Mendes was inspired to make a film based on the stories of his grandfather serving in World War I. 1917 follows two young British soldiers who trek across No Man's Land to stop an attack that could potentially lead to the deaths of 1,600 men. Christopher Nolan's 2017 WWII epic Dunkirk was an equally groundbreaking masterpiece (with an unconventional narrative and bold IMAX footage), but stories of the first World War are rare in cinema these days. That being said, Mendes--as well as fellow filmmaker Peter Jackson (2018's They Shall Not Grow Old)--has made extraordinary strides in recalling and commemorating that particular harsh period, not to mention examples of small acts of heroism. Combining his skillful direction with Roger Deakins' stunning cinematography (giving the illusion of one long, continuous take, in real time) and Thomas Newman's evocative score (one of his best), 1917 is immersive and heart-pounding from beginning to end.

8. Black Panther (2018)
Although it technically counts as one, Black Panther feels nothing like a Marvel Cinematic Universe entry, let alone a superhero story. 2014's Captain America: The Winter Soldier did take bold risks with its political-thriller plot (courtesy the Russo brothers), while Guardians of the Galaxy was a truly out-of-this-world space-comedy unlike anything before it (courtesy James Gunn). What director Ryan Coogler does with the comic book enterprise's first black superhero (created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby) is showcase a completely different (but relevant) culture. Throw in a titular hero who is both ruler and warrior, challenged to right the wrongs of his family's past mistakes (Chadwick Boseman's T'Challa); an antagonist who is equally intimidating and sympathetic (Michael B. Jordan's Erik Killmonger), a fully-dimensional roster of strong female characters who pack a punch (Danai Gurira's Okoye is a beast, and Letitia Wright's Shuri steals every scene she's in), and an epic score by Ludwig Goransson (recalling Hans Zimmer's score from The Lion King), and you have the makings of a cinematic revolution.

WRITERS NOTE: For those of you who aren't fans of superhero or comic-book movies: if you do decide to see only one MCU film in your life, this Best Picture nominee is the one to see.

7. Moana (2016)
Disney Animation experienced a "revival" era in the last ten years, a mirror of the Renaissance period from the Eighties and Nineties. From the magic ice castles and sisterly bonds of Frozen to the eye-popping game worlds of Wreck-It Ralph, and the anthropomorphic animals of Zootopia, the Mouse House has showcased another defining period of filmmaking, creativity, and universal storytelling. Their most amazing and original adventure draws inspiration from Polynesian culture, particularly the legends of larger-than-life demigod Maui, as a courageous teenage girl journeys across the sea to save her island and discover what she was meant for. Of the many original soundtracks to sweep the silver screen and several playlists in the 2010s (remember La La Land and The Greatest Showman?), Moana has some of the most infectious, moving, and incredible music, courtesy Marc Mancina, Opetaia Foa'i, and Lin-Manuel Miranda. A defining Disney film for this generation. You're welcome.

6. Toy Story 3 (2010)
Third time is more than the charm in this winning sequel to Pixar Animation Studios' foundational series of toys come to life. As a now-teenage Andy prepares to go off to college, cowboy Woody, space ranger Buzz Lightyear, and the remaining playthings in Andy's old toybox have an identity crisis, are accidentally shipped to a daycare center, and plan a "prison break." An amalgamation of different genres (that opening fantasy sequence is incredibly creative), and themes of ownership, independence, death, and second chances, work seamlessly and effectively. Plus, illustrations of community and family--and a transition from childhood to adulthood--have never been stronger or more sophisticated in this series. (A fourth installment, released at the end of the decade, was equally terrific and worthwhile.) An emotional home-run, to infinity and beyond.

5. Gravity (2013)
Filmmaker Alfonso Cuaron spent years developing a story (along with co-writer and son Jonas Cuaron) of two astronauts adrift in space. Gravity utilizes groundbreaking technology and astounding visual effects (especially in 3-D, for my money's worth) that genuinely immerses viewers up there in the void with Sandra Bullock and George Clooney (whose best line pokes fun at Facebook), but never overshadow the heart of the story. Bullock plays a mission specialist who has apparently been adrift from reality, after an unexpected loss, until an unexpected collision from nearby satellite debris forces her and a veteran pilot to get back to earth. Spiritual and visual metaphors of life, death, and rebirth are prevalent (the image of Bullock inside a shuttle, mirroring a mother's womb, is particularly spellbinding), with accompaniment from Steven Price's mesmerizing and haunting score. This is why we go to the movies.

4. Room (2015)
Lenny Abrahamson directs this adaptation of the best-selling novel of the same name by Emma Donoghue (who also wrote the script), about a mother and son (a remarkable Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay, respectfully) who escape captivity after seven years and struggle to adjust to the outside world. I've never seen such a powerful, heartbreaking, and loving relationship between a mother and child on-screen, nor any since that have shaken me to my core as much. A hard film to watch, but an undeniably life-affirming and hopeful one, partly because of its perspective from a little boy who learns about the world for the first time, and who inspires his mother--a broken young woman--to see life anew. A unique portrait of childhood innocence, family heartache, and unbreakable love, Room ranks as a high point in the filmography of growing indie studio A24.

3. Moneyball (2011)
Based on Michael Lewis's book of the same name, this true story of the Oakland A's record-breaking 20-0 baseball season (established on the concept of saber-metrics) has less to do with sports and more to do with embracing change, acknowledging and focusing on the values of underappreciated individuals, and a reminder that there's more to the game (and life) than what conventional wisdom has been saying for years. Bennett Miller is a director of subtlety, quietness, and internal expression, allowing viewers to soak in the experience and meanings of the subjects he tackles in film. And with Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill knocking their performances (as General Manager Billy Beane and Yale economics graduate Peter Brand, respectfully) out of the park, Moneyball is a one-of-a-kind film of perseverance and process.

2. Spider-Man: Into the Spider Verse (2018)
A Spider-Man feature film centered around fan-favorite (and Peter Parker's successor) Miles Morales. That was the pitch that producers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller gave to Sony earlier in the decade. A team of animators and artists subsequently took bold and creative risks in bringing the pages of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's most-beloved Marvel Comics icon to life, in ways that had never been done before. In fact, Spider-Verse puts an incredible creative spin on the famed webslinger in ways that couldn't have been accomplished with live-action. The result brings nearly the entire mythology of the character, from his many different cultural impacts (movies, cereal, Christmas albums) to his many different iterations (i.e., a Thirties noir detective, a futuristic anime robot, and even a cartoon pig). But the central story of the teenage Miles coming into his own, while learning from those before him, is fresh and relatable. A coming-of-age journey (and cinematic game-changer), symbolizing that anyone can be a hero, and that they're not the only ones.

1. Roma (2018)
Alfonso Cauron's deeply personal masterpiece of memory and time is a semi-autobiographical testament that has less to do with his own childhood and more to do with the women who helped raise him. Set in Mexico City during the 1970s Corpus Christi massacre, the heart of Cauron's story is the perspective of an indigenous maid named Cleo (a remarkable Yalitza Aparicio, in a debut performance), her relationship with the family she works for, and the ethical and social heartaches endured by her and her employer (Marina de Tavira). Epic in scale (with stunning black-and-white cinematography and an immersive sound design) but rooted in human emotion that is equally profound, devastating, and indescribable, one gets the impression that cinema has been reestablished from the ground up, bit by bit, moment by moment. (Cauron was reportedly the only crew member who knew the script, front to back, during production.) I know of no other film this decade that has captivated me as much, and I can't recommend it enough. Magnifico!

Films of the Decade: The 2000s

We're already two decades into the 21st Century and we've seen a lot of really stellar and incredible films. In fact, the new millennium has had quite a transition in the way we view movies. VHS tapes became obsolete as DVDs became standard issue, ditto Blu-ray discs. Nowadays, viewers and audiences have the option to stream films (and TV shows) on their phones, laptops or flat screens, which seem to have been contributing factors to the decline in ticket sales at movie theaters. Even so, the latter still are (and will arguably always be) the greatest place to see the latest (and occasionally classic) blockbusters or critical darlings. 

That being said, here is a two-part look back at the last twenty years of cinema, beginning here with the 2000s and my picks for the films that remind us why we go to the movies. 

The following criteria were used in determining said films:

--Is it thematically- and superbly-written?
--Is it artistically-made?
--Has it achieved critically and/or commercially success? More than that, is it still discussed years after its initial release?
--Does it have universal appeal, one way or another? (i.e., is it poetic and/or timely?)

***

Here are a few quick notable mentions that didn't make the final cut, but still worth mentioning.

Cast Away (2000)
Tom Hanks is a FedEx engineer who survives a plane crash and ends up on a desert island. That's the basic premise of this contemporary spin on Daniel Dafoe's Robinson Crusoe, as Hanks' Chuck Nolan makes due with the items he has (including a Wilson volleyball, an unexpected source of empathy) while trying to chart a way back to civilization. Hanks' engrossing and committed performance, along with William Broyles's brilliant screenplay and Robert Zemeckis's skillful direction, makes for a thoroughly gripping and stirring character-driven drama.

Fantasia 2000 (2000)
Technically the first film released in the decade and century, this update and continuation of the landmark synchronization of music, sound, and animated imagery from 1940 features guest host interludes that seem dated by today's standards. But the animated sequences showcased (including the iconic "Sorcerer's Apprentice," starring Mickey Mouse, from the original) are breathtaking, spectacular, and inspiring to watch. From "Pines of Rome"s flying whales to the lively, Hirshfeld-inspired "Rhapsody in Blue," and the beautifully poetic "Firebird Suite." This concept remains a bold, experimental, and collective celebration of what the mediums of animation and music are capable of.

Letters From Iwo Jima (2006)
Director Clint Eastwood made two films back-to-back, based on the battle of Iwo Jima (the first being Flags of Our Fathers, told from the American perspective). This companion piece, told from the perspective of the Japanese, is even more compelling and intriguing, showing a humane side of soldiers long stereotyped as enemies. Ken Watanabe is commanding and loyal as real-life General Tadamichi Kuribayashi. Like Terrence Malick's 1998 epic The Thin Red Line, Letters is an unconventional but engrossing war film.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)
In a decade where fantasy genre had a renaissance, Guillermo del Toro became one of the most visually-stunning artists and filmmakers of the era. This dark period fantasy (described as a fairy tale for grown-ups--and a violent one, at that) is arguably his magnum opus. A young girl named Ophelia moves with her pregnant mother to the estate of her stepfather (a sadistic fascist) in 1940s Spain, and stumbles across a mysterious labyrinth. There, she meets an age-old faun-man who believes she's the lost princess of a forgotten kingdom, and gives her three tasks to prove herself. Thoroughly amazing and grim.

Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002)
A profound true story of three young aborigine girls who escape a training school to return home during a period of familial and racial removal in 1930s Western Australia. Director Phillip Noyce adapts Doris Pilkington's powerful book about the "Stolen Generations" (an era that lasted over sixty years) with both heartache and grace, aided by Peter Gabriel's reflective and bittersweet score. A heartbreaking but important film.

***

Here are my picks for the ten standouts films of the 2000s.

10. Precious (2009)
Director Lee Daniels' adaptation of Sapphire's bruising novel, Push, follows a teenage girl as she seeks hope in an alternate school from a compassionate educator, and begins to see life anew, despite her harsh and abusive upbringing. With committed performances from Gabourey Sidibe (in a powerful debut role), Paula Patton (as her kind-hearted instructor), and especially Monique (who won an Oscar for her edgy turn as a monstrous mother), Precious avoids any genre cliches and goes for the heart. A very difficult, profane, but ultimately hopeful story.

9. Slumdog Millionaire (2008)
At the time of its release, one of my college professors declared Slumdog Millionaire as a film that needed to be seen on the big screen. While I unfortunately missed that opportunity, I was nevertheless captivated by this remarkable movie. Director Danny Boyle and screenwriter Simon Beaufoy took what seemed like a cheap concept from Vikas Swarup's novel "Q & A" (a young man, who is a contestant on India's version of "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire," recounts his life with each question), and turned it into an amazing, modern-day Dickens tale. Dev Patel and Freida Pinto's breakout performances, and A.R. Rahman's engaging score, make this a compelling original film.

8. Unbreakable (2000)
Comic book movies made such a splash in the decade. Most forget (I assume) that five years before Christopher Nolan redefined Batman and two years before Sam Raimi took Spider-Man to new heights, writer-director M. Night Shamayalan followed up his Oscar-nominated debut The Sixth Sense with what may be the most grounded film based on the concept of comic-book figures, if not specific figures themselves. Bruce Willis gives what may be his best screen performance (aside from John McClane) as a security guard who survives a train wreck unharmed, and Samuel L. Jackson is mesmerizing and complex as a mysterious art gallery owner who believes superheroes walk the earth. The way the story balances estranged relationships between fathers and sons, and husbands and wives, as well as long tracking shots and striking color palettes, is a testament to Shamayalan's creativity and understanding of the mediums of comic books and film.

7. Punch-Drunk Love (2002)
The idea of indie filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson making a movie centered around funnyman Adam Sandler was initially laughable, to say the least. When Punch-Drunk Love premiered at Cannes in 2002 (where it won Anderson the Best Director award), the naysayers were quite surprised. Anderson had become the first auteur director to bring out a radical side of the beloved goofball, while also tailoring to the actor's strengths and quirks. The film follows a small novelty business owner, Barry Egan, who suffers from compulsive anger tendencies, wrestles with concepts of loneliness and love, and stumbles on a promotional loophole involving packages of pudding and frequent flyer miles. The combination of Anderson's direction and writing, Sandler's committed performance, Gary Rystrom's bizarre sound design, and Jon Brion's odd-but-affecting music, make for an idiosyncratic, strange, and incredibly daring film.

6. The Passion of the Christ (2004)
Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments. William Wyler's Ben-Hur. Pier Paolo Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew. These films have been regarded as some of the most faithful screen adaptations of Bible (or Bible-related) stories ever made. Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ chronicles the final twelve hours of the life of Jesus Christ, including his torture and crucifixion. Like Carl Theodor Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc, Gibson's film (which he reportedly self-financed at $20 million) may be the most intimate account of faith and religion for a mainstream audience, and certainly the most graphic and divisive.

5. Finding Nemo (2003)
Probably the first time I remember feeling a different kind of emotion in the movie theater, particularly from Pixar. The famed studio's breathtaking animation, ethereal and emotional center (partly thanks to Thomas Newman's amazing score), and genuine hysterical comedy from its instantly unforgettable characters (Albert Brooks fits clownfish Marlin like a fin, while Ellen DeGeneres's endearing and forgetful Dory steals every scene she's in) strengthen a simple story of a father's journey across the sea to find his son. With distant echoes of Homer's The Odyssey and Collodi's Pinocchio, Finding Nemo has endured the test of time for all ages.

4. Where the Wild Things Are (2009)
Many found this PG-rated adaptation of Maurice Sendack's beloved children's book polarizing, considering its edgy tone. I, on the other hand, am one of the few who was instantly impressed with director Spike Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers' vision. Wild Things is, at its heart, a very artful and poetic view of childhood angst and growing up. The animatronic puppets for the "wild things" (courtesy the Jim Henson Creature Shop, and recalling The NeverEnding Story) are impeccable and fantastic, while singer Karen O and composer Carter Burwell's music bridges the gap between young and old (despite being more of a film about childhood for the latter).

3. Up (2009)
An elderly man ties thousands of balloons to his house and flies to South America to the place he and his late wife always wanted to go to, only to be distracted by a determined boy scout, a dog with a talking collar, and a colorful bird. Sounds like the most ridiculous scenario and cast of characters, at least on paper. But this being a Pixar film, the studio has shown in the latter half of the decade how to best take the most unlikely concepts (from a rat who dreams of being a world class chef, to the last robot on earth) and transform them into meaningful works of art. Up may be the oddest of their most original stories to date, and yet it works. Its emotional journey packs a punch (that four-minute opening montage still tugs at our heartstrings), along with lots of laughs, adventures, and surprises, with Michael Giacchino's score hitting all the right notes. In the words of canine Dug, we love it.

2. The Dark Knight (2008)
If M. Night Shamayalan's Unbreakable was based on the concept of comic books, then Christopher Nolan's groundbreaking take on DC Comic's most enduring superhero stood in a category of its own. Nolan's 2005 feature Batman Begins brought new life to the backstory of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne (an excellent Christian Bale) and his journey to bringing order and restoration to a bleak and despairing Gotham City. This 2008 follow-up improves on those themes (with the addition of mind-blowing IMAX footage and gripping action), while emphasizing motifs of escalation, chaos, and choices. Although the late Heath Ledger's phenomenal and chilling performance as the Joker is the film's centerpiece, The Dark Knight is so much more than that. This may be the deepest, most layered, compelling, and certainly most haunting, take on the Caped Crusader ever put to celluloid.

1. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001, 2002, 2003)
This one's a bit of a cheat, but bare with me. When J.R.R. Tolkien wrote his fantastical stories about a place called "Middle-earth" (which he began with The Hobbit) in the early 20th Century, he intended it as one immense adventure of a band of diverse characters journeying to destroy an all-powerful ring. Unlike George Lucas's Star Wars saga (which began in the public's eye as a standalone 1977 feature), Peter Jackson's adaptation of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed back-to-back. Fans and critics have their picks for which of the three films stands out the most. In all fairness, the three films (2001's The Fellowship of the Ring, 2002's The Two Towers, and 2003's The Return of the King) work best collectively. Featuring an impeccable roster of celebrated actors, groundbreaking visual effects (including Andy Serkis' definitive motion-capture work as Gollum), and astounding set pieces (including some filmed on location in Jackson's native New Zealand), Jackson and company have created a staggering, thrilling, emotional, and universal adventure, appealing and applicable to all walks of life. An unprecedented achievement in the history of cinema. 

The Magic of Disney Animation, Part X: A New Revival--How Far They've Come

A New Market, A New Generation, and A Carried-On Tradition
The 2010s was a decade of exciting productivity at the Walt Disney Studios. Live-action remakes of their beloved animated classics were being developed and released (some, good; some, not so good). CEO Bob Iger made headlines with public acquisitions of such film subsidiaries and companies as Marvel, Lucasfilm, and 21st Century Fox (not to mention a change in the Mouse House's distribution title of "Walt Disney Pictures" to, simply, "Disney"). But, perhaps, the best one of all: the animation division showcased an unexpected return to form that (as I titled my last post) honored the department's legacy while embracing new ground. There was also an evident change in the its creative culture.

One of the biggest factors of this era of animated movies is the impeccable and believable worlds that were created for them. From video games to superheroes, anthropomorphic animals, and proactive heroines that drove the narratives in a very strong way, each film was nothing short of cross-cultural and generation-bridging.

2009's The Princess and the Frog, while it has its fans, wasn’t as successful as the studio had hoped, and not since 2011's Winnie the Pooh has Disney made a hand-drawn feature. The decades-old technique has still been utilized in a few select short films, like 2012's Paperman, as well as other non-Disney features throughout the decade, like last fall's Klaus. Even so, the company changed they way they market their movies, from how they're titled and what those titles represent. And their fairy tale adaptations were certainly no exception.

Disney CEO Bob Iger and Mickey Mouse

Let Down Your Hair
Veteran animator Glen Keane had been inspired to adapt and direct the classic tale of Rapunzel for more than ten years. But story difficulties and a reported health scare in 2008 forced him to step down (he stayed on as a producer, and was replaced by up-and-coming animators/storymen Nathan Greno and Byron Howard).

Originally titled Rupunzel Unbraided, the center of the film that became 2010's Tangled is a magical flower with healing, age-reversing, and life-giving abilities, passed on to a baby princess with long, beautiful hair. The plot revolves around the titular princess, as she's stolen from her kingdom as an infant, and hidden from the world (in a tower, no less) by an envious and selfish villainess (the frightening and sassy Mother Gothel), who will do anything to keep the magic to herself. An unlikely adventure takes shape, as the now-18-year-old girl (voiced by Mandy Moore) joins up with the dashing fugitive, Flynn Rider (voiced by Zachary Levi) and sees the world for the first time, including the floating lanterns that appear every year on her birthday. Consider this a coming-of-age fantasy, if you will.

Tangled marked significant breakthroughs in the animation and rendering of hair (breathtaking), along with first-rate action sequences (the tunnel chase is a standout), an Alen Menken score inspired by Sixties rock, clever animal sidekicks (Pascal the chameleon and Maximus the relentless palace horse), and story twists that were hip but not cynical, with a heroine who is active, spunky, and determined. (Did I mention her weapon of choice is a frying pan?) And wait until you see the aforementioned lanterns. Simply magical, tear-jerking, and worthy of the Disney brand.

Seeing Tangled for the first time reminded me of when I saw Beauty and the Beast as a child. But while it may not have the most memorable music ("I See the Light" is amazing, though), the story and character arcs are worthwhile and enchanting. And without it, the studio would've never achieved what they did with their next "princess" adventure (which, like Beast, traces back several decades of development).

(Left to right) Moana (2016's Moana), Elsa (2013's Frozen),
Nick Wilde (2016's Zootopia), and Rapunzel (2010's Tangled)

I've Got the Power
There seems to be a common thread throughout Disney's fairy tales this decade: characters who are born with magic abilities, what they do with them, and how it impacts them and those around them, for better or worse. In 2013's Frozen, Elsa (an iteration of Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen) was born with powers that enable her to create ice and snow. But they prove dangerous as they do beautiful (the film's opening song is a poetic warning on the matter), and her parents try to hide them out of fear of hurting others, including Elsa's sister, Anna (voiced by Kristen Bell). Anna, in turn, does everything she can to help her sister, even though she turns to her definition of "true love" when she feels "shut out" by Elsa (voiced by Idina Menzel).

This is where the film's greatest strength lies: addressing (and even questioning) fairy tale conventions that the Mouse House has been guilty of since Snow White in 1937. (2007's Enchanted took jabs at such conventions as well.) The biggest issue involved Anna deciding to marry the handsome Prince Hans before really getting to know him. (I won't reveal any more than that, for those of you who haven't seen the movie.) It’s amazing that the core message is not traditional “romance,” but rather familial love between two estranged sisters, as well as embracing identities and responsibilities. My hats off to directors Chris Buck (a Disney veteran who started in the 1980s) and Jennifer Lee (who replaced John Lasseter as Disney Animation's Chief Creative Officer in 2018) for opening discussion doors for parents and their children on these themes. 

With breathtaking scenery that echoes the work of veteran artist Mary Blair (and amazing influences from Norway), catchy music (courtesy Winnie the Pooh songwriters Kristin Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez), and captivating characters (the scene-stealing Olaf, voiced by Josh Gad, represents the childhood Anna and Elsa once had), Frozen has since had a tremendous cultural and worldwide impact. So much so, that many little girls have made Anna and Elsa their favorite Halloween costumes each year, along with the now-defining anthem "Let It Go" as their favorite song. In fact, Disney hadn't had a blockbuster hit like this since 1994's The Lion King (or, as another track would say, for the first time in forever). The fact that it was released during a record-breaking 2013/2014 winter season nationwide may have added to its success.

Perhaps it's not surprising that a sequel (2019's Frozen II) would be greenlit, leading to an equally record-breaking (if less than stellar) follow-up. This second chapter follows Elsa as she's motivated by a haunting, mysterious voice and goes on a quest to search for the origin of her powers, her parents, and (a bit much of a subplot, maybe) her kingdom of Arendelle. The film's animation is, once again, beautiful (set primarily in the fall, as opposed to its predecessor's winter season). But what makes it an improvement, in many ways, is its strong and compelling character arcs, giving Anna and Elsa more active roles this time around (which I didn't really observe on my initial viewing). Even more, the film doesn't sacrifice substance and emotional investment for mere spectacle (something Wreck-It Ralph and its sequel also did very well), as both sisters are challenged to grow independently and right the wrongs of their kingdom’s past mistakes. 

The upcoming Raya and the Last Dragon

"Do You Know Who You Are?" 

Speaking of past mistakes, legend tells of the mighty demigod Maui, who stole a source of power thousands of years ago (known as the "Heart of Te Fiti"), affected the land and sea. A prophesy foretold that a mighty warrior would one day bring peace and restoration to the world. This legend is the basis for 2016's Moana.

In the tradition of strong and brave female characters in the Disney canon (Pocahantas and Mulan come to mind, and that promises to be the case with the upcoming Raya and the Last Dragon), Moana is the feisty and determined teenage daughter of a Polynesian chief on her island known as Motunui. The story follows her as she is torn between leading her people (which everyone else expects) and journeying out into the ocean (a feeling she can't seem to escape). Guided by the wisdom and spirit of her grandmother, along with the ocean itself, Moana (voiced by Auli'i Cravalho) sets out on a journey to find Maui, restore the ancient "Heart," and ultimately save the world. Sounds cliche and simple enough, but the execution is epic in scale, and the thematic direction of the story makes it fresh, exciting, and profound.

Veteran Disney filmmakers John Musker and Ron Clements have crafted an incredible film that is thoroughly respectful of its culture, from island customs to ancient legends, larger-than-life characters (a specialty of theirs since directing The Little Mermaid and Aladdin, and perhaps why pro-wrestler-turned-actor Dwayne Johnson was cast as the charismatic demigod) to the art of sailing and wayfinding. As an added treat, Maui's tattoos are brought to life by charming hand-drawn animation (courtesy veteran Eric Goldberg). The music by Marc Mancina (who composed Tarzan) Opetaia Foa'i (of Oceanic group Te Vaka), and Lin-Manuel Miranda (of Hamilton fame) is infectious, emotional, sweeping, and some of the best ever composed for a Disney film in recent years. Miranda, in fact, was reportedly inspired to become a songwriter after seeing The Little Mermaid as a child.

At its heart, Moana is about remembering who we are, where we come from, what we've forgotten, and what we're called to be. Like Bilbo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, it's a story that journeys beyond conformity and safety, and makes life stronger. The result is breathtaking and entertaining. Like Frozen, this has arguably become (at least, according to the students I used to teach) the Disney film of the current generation.

2012's Wreck-It Ralph

Game On!
My generation grew up in the Eighties and Nineties. Besides Disney movies, sports, and pop music, we also enjoyed playing video games. From Sega's Sonic the Hedgehog to Capcom's Street Fighter to Nintendo's Super Mario Brothers, it was a nostalgic joy to see many of these characters show up in the cinematic arcade world of Wreck-It Ralph.

In fact, this 2012 feature film does for classic arcade games what Roger Rabbit did for classic cartoons. And, like Aladdin and The Lion King, it transcends its studio brand, appealing to both kids and adults (despite some unnecessary bathroom chatter, to be upfront). But while many of these popular characters make clever appearances in this colorful, hilarious adventure, there are really five primary settings and game worlds throughout the story.

First, there's the 8-bit sphere of "Fix-It Felix, Jr.," where the titular Donkey Kong-like garbage collector Ralph (voiced by John C. Reilly) tires of his role as the "bad guy" and desires to be the "hero" for a change, like the hammer-wielding handyman Felix (voiced by Jack McBrayer). Ralph seizes an opportunity when a new game--a first-person shooter mission, called "Hero's Duty" (the second game world)--promises awarded medals to its winners, until Ralph accidentally ends up in an overly sugar-coated, go-kart racing game, "Sugar Rush" (the third game world, with influences from "Speed Racer" and anime), where an outcast "glitch" named Vanellope (voiced by Sarah Silverman) has her own ambitions. Soon, Felix and the Linda Hamilton-esque Sgt. Calhoun (voiced by Jane Lynch) are on Ralph's trail to get him back home, and fix things before the entire arcade universe is destroyed.

These distinct gaming worlds are immediately absorbing; ditto the "Game Central Station" where familiar characters meet and cameo, and the arcade in the human world where players interact. But it's the instantly-relatable and engaging characters that carry the day, along with the perfect voice actors for them. Interestingly enough, voice actor Alan Tudyk (who became a regular in subsequent Disney animated features) modeled the voice of the quirky and antagonistic King Candy after Disney veteran Ed Wynn. At its heart is a story about two characters (namely, Ralph and Vanellope) looking for acceptance, believing awards (and a misguided sense of "attention") will accomplish that, only to learn how to accept their roles beyond others' belief that they have no real meaning. And in the process, discover what they're really capable of (unexpectedly poignant).

In the 2018 sequel Ralph Breaks the Internet, Ralph and Vanellope travel to the world wide web in search of a replacement part for a game. The movie takes things to a whole new meta level, but never loses sight of its heat and humor, as both characters encounter various apps and online stores, including some recognizable characters (top the scene where Vanellope meets all the iconic Disney princesses and skewers everything they're known for). All the while, their friendship is tested as they wrestle with insecurities and moving forward with different aspirations. Otherwise the movie would be merely overwhelmed with pop culture references and everything Disney-related for the last several decades (including the aforementioned acquisitions). "All friendships change," says the film's daredevil street racer Shank (voiced by Gal Gadot), "But the good ones, they get stronger because of it." Here, one can almost find traces of Ed Catmull's quote (from his book "Creativity, Inc.") on embracing new roads while recognizing the needs of others, some of which can come from, say, a plush-like health-care companion, like Baymax in 2014's Big Hero 6.

2014's Big Hero 6

[Fist Bump] 
After Disney acquaired Marvel in 2009, director Don Hall suggested adapting an obscure comic book in the latter enterprise's history (more obscure than, say, Guardians of the Galaxy, which was also made into a 2014 movie). Combined with Disney's ever-growing animation techniques (Hall is said to have admired both Disney and Marvel Comics since childhood), Big Hero 6 also creatively blends architecture and cultures of San Francisco and Tokyo for the inventive and futuristic San Fransokyo.

Of course, this world wouldn't be as lively without an engaging cast of characters. And it helps that Big Hero 6's cast is multi-cultural, each possessing different skills in diverse scientific discoveries (an influence for those working in or studying in said fields). There's teenage prodigy Hiro (voiced by Ryan Potter), who initially believes there's nothing more to the world than what he already knows. There's his older, more encouraging, brother Tadashi (voiced by Daniel Henney), whose pet university project consists of a plush "health care companion" robot named Baymax (voiced by Scott Adsit).

Then there are Tadashi's tech school colleagues, including electromagnetic athlete Go Go (voiced by Jamie Chung), laser-focused Wasabi (voiced by Damon Wayans, Jr.), chemistry enthusiast Honey Lemon (voiced by Genesis Rodriguez), and comic-book-obsessed slacker Fred (voiced by T.J. Miller). All of them exemplify a surrogate family and community for Hiro, especially when unexpected tragedy strikes, and all inadvertently become superheroes. Each character (including Baymax) also teaches Hiro that there are always new things to learn and discover ("We push the boundaries of robotics here," a professor tells him), including cautionary examples of using resources for the wrong reasons, and how to use them the right way, specifically in helping others.

FUN FACT: Other than briefly (and unofficially) popping up as an online avatar in Ralph Breaks the Internet, this was the first time Marvel Comics' legend Stan Lee made a cameo appearance in an animated Disney movie. (He passed away in 2018.)

2016's Zootopia

Animal Kingdom
Disney hasn't always had the best track record when it comes to cultural or racial reverence. Just look at the portrayals of Japanese soldiers in their war propaganda of the 1940s, the Indians in 1953's Peter Pan, and plantation slaves in 1946's Song of the South, to name a few. The studio has had exceptions in the late Nineties and early 2000s, from Native Americans in 1995's Pocahontas to Chinese legend in 1998's Mulan, and Hawaiian culture in 2002's Lilo & Stitch. This sign of progress has been exceptional this decade, and their best example, by far, may be 2016's Zootopia.

In a world of anthropomorphic animals, a determined rabbit named Judy Hopps (voiced by Ginnifer Goodwin) wants more than anything to be a police officer and make a difference for others in the idealistic city of Zootopia (an incredible visual world consisting of twelve inventive districts, for predator and prey animals, primarily). She constantly faces day-to-day cynicism and doubts from those around her (including her own family), telling her she can't be anything more than what she's perceived as. When she seizes an opportunity to crack a case, she teams up with con-artist fox (and witness) Nick Wilde (voice by Jason Bateman) and uncovers a conspiracy throughout the city she grew up admiring, turning out more complicated and imperfect than she anticipated.

Zootopia does have many clever sight gags and set pieces (including a hilarious scene at a DMV run by sloths), and even a few homages to classic films like The Godfather and Speed. It recalls Disney’s tradition of animating animals, with character designs that mirror Br'er Rabbit and Br'er Fox from Song of the South and the titular heroic rogue from 1973's Robin Hood. What Zootopia does even more is stir in a relevant and deep subtext on prejudice, stereotypes, and social differences. Themes that were evident in Dumbo and Wreck-It Ralph as well (in terms of judging characters by their given titles or setbacks). It even makes a strong case that such prejudice can come from anywhere--just as unlikely heroism can--beyond those that stereotypes are placed on. But it's Judy's effortless optimism and courageousness that give those themes new meaning.

That being said, Zootopia could be something of an apology for the studio’s history of cultural insensitivity, and a sign of its maturity and progression. It's as if they were saying, "We've learned from our mistakes, and still are, but we're moving forward with more reverence and relevance."

"Try. Try to make the world a better place. Change starts with you. It starts with me. It starts with all of us." ~Judy Hopps

To paraphrase Moana, Walt Disney Animation has certainly come a long way, perhaps farther than most every other animation studio in the history of cinema. And they're still breaking new ground, acknowledging their history, and delivering universal stories, believable never-before-seen worlds, and relatable and compelling characters. Whether it's Judy Hopps trying to make the world a better place, Elsa journeying into the unknown, or Rupunzel seeing the light for the first time, it's the continual building of an unparalleled and enduring legacy of animation and storytelling that was all started by a mouse.

The Magic of Disney Animation, Part IX: A New Revival--Honoring the Past While Looking to the Future

The Road to Glory Days
Management and leadership at the Disney Studios changed once again by the mid-2000s. CEO Michael Eisner (who had been generating controversy and tension behind the scenes for a few years by then) was replaced by former company President and Chief Operating Officer Bob Iger in October of 2005. Iger's objective was to return the studio to its glory days, and to seek out the appropriate people to help make that a reality.

From the success model that Pixar Animation Studios had been following for almost a decade, Iger met with the company's co-founders Steve Jobs, Ed Catmull, and John Lasseter, who had collectively been experiencing a dysfunctional relationship with the Mouse House in recent years. Iger suggested that both studios join up, keeping each its own entity and culture, while influencing each other creatively and professionally. An acquisition deal of $7.4 billion in 2006 resulted in Jobs becoming Disney's largest shareholder, while Catmull and Lasseter became president and chief creative officer, respectfully, of both company's animation studios--roles they held for over a decade. (Lasseter, unfortunately, was ousted from both companies when reported misconduct allegations surfaced in 2017; the pioneering filmmaker and executive eventually found another opportunity, with Skydance Animation, after reportedly "taking ownership of his [reported] behavior.")

To differentiate itself from Pixar (and not to confuse the general public), Walt Disney Feature Animation created their own logo, and renamed their division "Walt Disney Animation Studios," paying homage to the legacy that Walt started with Mickey Mouse in the late 1920s (the iconic image of "Steamboat Willie" has since been the division's mascot). Meet the Robinsons and Bolt were already in production when Catmull and Lasseter joined the company, and both CGI films were eventually retooled under their supervision (and went on to become critically-acclaimed hits.)

(L-r) 2005's Chicken Little, 2007's Meet the Robinsons, and 2008's Bolt

Based on the William Joyce children's book, "A Day With Wilbur Robinson," Robinsons follows a boy genius named Lewis, who travels to the future and meets a gang of quirky relatives he never knew he had (including a pizza delivery superhero and an amphibian-composing matriarch), while being pursued by a kooky Bowler Hat Guy. The world in this film echoes Disney World's Tomorrowland with a retro-1950s sensibility and wonder. And while the humor can be overly-cartoony at times, the central theme of overcoming doubts and embracing one's failures, quirks, and progress, rings loud and clear. (They practically repeat the message of "keep moving forward" dozens of times through the film.)

Bolt recalled the adventurous escapades of some of the studio's most memorable canine characters, particularly Oliver & Company, but with more contemporary action. (The lead heroine, voiced by Miley Cyrus, is even named Penny, just like the little girl in that 1988 movie.) Bolt is a "superhero" dog (voiced by John Travolta, in probably his most recent great role), who's actually a TV star, mistakenly ends up across country, and goes on a mission to get back to his TV owner, with help from a sassy stray cat and an obsessive fan in the form of a guinea pig.

Fred Rogers once did a special on PBS in the 1970s about the dangers of children acting out superhero antics, and Bolt doesn't shy away from such effects (although not as strongly), especially when the titular white shepard puppy learns about the real world for the first time. The film also touches on how an unhealthy or misguided obsession with fantasy (or, at least, studio pressures) affects one's views on the world. At the same time, some unexpected emotional twists make this a transition piece for the studio (some critics have called this one of Disney's best in years), not to mention a worthwhile message on what it means to be a real hero (or, in Bolt's case, a real dog).

John Lasseter and Ed Catmull

Back to the Drawing Board
Even as they released computer animated features for kids and families, there were a batch of hand-drawn features by other studios that helped give traditional animation something of a comeback in the second-half of the decade. Such films included those by animator/director Hayao Miyazaki and his Tokyo-based Studio Ghibli (2008's Ponyo), a 2007 fantasy-comedy called Enchanted (starring Amy Adams as an animated Snow White-type princess in a live-action, modern-day New York), and a long-awaited big-screen version of The Simpsons (a Fox-owned property bought by Disney last year, oddly enough).

But it was 2009's The Princess and the Frog in which Disney animation attempted to revitalize the traditional hand-drawn techniques not seen in feature-length form for over five years. A twist on the classic story of "The Frog Prince" but set in 1920s New Orleans (a radical backdrop for a fairy tale adaptation), the central character is a young woman named Tiana (Disney's first African-American heroine, voiced and sung by a sensational Anika Noni Rose), who pursues a childhood dream she shared with her father of opening up a restaurant. Her journey involves more than just "wishing upon a star" (as Jiminy Cricket sang about). Tiana works hard for her dreams, influencing and challenging others (including the pretentious Prince Naveen, turned into a frog by the villainous witch doctor Facilier) with her actions, and learning the hard way about the difference between wants and needs.

With catchy music by composer Randy Newman, and a style that recalls Lady and the Tramp, The Sword in the Stone, and The Rescuers, the film includes many charming and infectious characters, including Naveen (especially in his frog form), Louis the trumpet-playing alligator, Ray the Cajun firefly, and enchantment queen Mama Odie. With the latter in mind, the story does unfortunately include some rather dark spirituality in the form of Facilier and his "friends from the other side," rivaling the likes of Disneyland's "Tower of Terror" and Pirates of the Caribbean. Even saying there are good witch doctors and bad witch doctors (a far cry from The Wizard of Oz, perhaps) will have more discerning families scratching their heads.

2009's The Princess and the Frog

In his 2014 book, "Creativity, Inc.," Catmull explains how he and the producers of The Princess and the Frog made a grave mistake in marketing the film, in terms of its title and its appeal to certain audiences (which they kept in mind when they released the Rupunzel adaptation Tangled the following year). The film does have its fans (Tiana's proactive personality has influenced many little girls), but the future of hand-drawn animation seemed uncertain. As Catmull explained, "The issue with 2D [animation] was not the validity of the time-honored art form but that Disney's directors needed and wanted to engaged with the new. . . . The truth was, [they] respected the studio's heritage, but they wanted to build on it--and in order to do that, that had to be free to forge their own path."

There's a quote by Walt Disney himself that was featured in Meet the Robinsons, which states, “Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”

Other Avenues On the Lot
Disney's attempt to return to hand-drawn features proved to be short-lived, with 2011's Winnie the Pooh (a charming and wonderful introduction of A.A. Milne's creations an never-before-adapted stories from the Hundred Acre Wood to a new generation) being the studio's most recent feature-length story to use this medium. Many have wondered if the art form has since become obsolete and if the studio was or is ever going to make an animated feature film as such again.

Well, that's not entirely true. Disney has reportedly talked about the possibility of returning to hand-drawn movies. Meanwhile, the near-century-old medium has been used sparingly in many feature films, animated and live-action, throughout the 2010's. From Maui's tattoos in the 2016 CGI adventure Moana, to a brief Tinker Bell cameo in 2013's live-action Saving Mr. Banks, and a colorful, 17-minute fantasy sequence in 2018's live-action sequel Mary Poppins Returns. It's even been predominant or essential in many award-winning or arthouse films, from Studio Ghibli's The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, to GKids' Ernest and Celestine, to Paramount's SpongeBob Movie: Sponge Out of Water, and even Sony's Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.

The "Meander" animation process of the 2012 short Paperman

Since the early-2000s, Disney (along with periodically re-releasing their classic animated films every few years, this time on DVD and Blu-ray) went back to their tradition of making short films, giving up-and-coming filmmakers opportunities to tell stories and explore new avenues and possibilities for animation. Some were originally planned for a now-abandoned continuation of Fantasia, but have gained critical accolades since their limited releases (including Academy Award nominations for best animated short film). These included 2004's Lorenzo (an original idea from late story veteran Joe Grant, about a gluttonous cat whose tale gets jinxed, resulting in a tango) and 2006's The Little Match Girl (a sombering adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen's story of a poor young match seller in St. Petersburg during the pre-Revolution). There were even loving homages to classic characters Goofy and Mickey Mouse with the terrific and funny shorts, How To Hook Up Your Home Theater (2007) and Get a Horse (2013), respectfully. (The latter used recycled vocal clips of Walt as Mickey.)

But their biggest breakthrough, by far, was the 2012 award-winning Paperman. A simple story that about a serendipidous romance between two young people (complete with paper airplanes), this short seamlessly combines hand-drawn qualities with CGI (at the insistence of director John Kahrs) in a process called "Meander." Echoing the Xerox look from the 1960s, as well as the character designs of veteran animator Milt Kahl, Paperman is a beautifully-made piece, and may be the best short that Disney has ever made.

As amazing as computer graphics can be (and the animation department focused primarily on such features for the next decade, both for new princesses and original stories), Paperman represents the best of what animation is collectively capable of. With the exceptions of its use in the 2014 short Feast and in Moana, I eagerly await a feature film to further and fully embrace this technology as they did in Paperman.