Kelly MacDonald, Emma Thompson, Billy Connelly, Craig Ferguson and Robbie Coltrane, with Kevin McKidd and Julie Walters.
Princess Merida may be royalty, but tiaras and galas aren’t her thing. Just let her ride on an overpowered steed and shoot arrows at anything that moves (or doesn’t move) and she’s happy as a hog in its waller.
Understandably her prim and proper mum Queen Elinor isn’t too keen on Merida’s tomboyish ways. Sure, it was cute when she was young. Enough so to let her da King Fergus encourage a love of hunting in his wee lass. But now Merida is a young woman, and should soon be courting a husband, preferably a stuffy, awkward young man from one of Fergus’ rival clans.
It’s now a classic adolescent battle of wills. Both on Merida and Elinor’s part. Propriety or archery? Who’s to say which is appropriate?
Neither. So now the arrows really start flying.
Here’s a new one.
This is the first RIORI installment to pick apart an animated feature. And a Pixar release, no less. And also at the behest of my kid. She’s been gradually getting wise to why Dad locks himself up in his office and/or make jaunts out the local library with his laptop in tow. She doesn’t like that. She’d rather we play with Legos. So would I, but I figure for all the times she’s been dictating her parents’ movie watching habits at the theatre, she’d let out a little line for Dad to play by himself. Especially since she ostensibly picked the movie this time out.
She’s 8. It’s like drawing in a 1000-pound marlin. I will lose.
But not this time, dammit! Now you go to your room for 90 minutes while Daddy cringes before the DVD player. Good girl.
A few millennia ago I spoke about how few options I have picking out and seeing a first-run movie. For lack of funds for a real babysitter—and the grandparents’ increasing reluctance to play Mary Poppins—I’ve had to settle on animated features for my movie money at the multiplex. Not that this was always a bad thing. In recent years, I’ve been audience to The Lego Movie, which I found to be a delight (which stoked the fires of imagination in my little one’s fevered brain). Maleficent was serviceable, though trite for anyone no longer Santa Claus eligible. The recent Pixar vehicle Inside Out was awesome, making it my fave after Up. The Secret World Of Arriety was quite engrossing (me being a Miyazaki fan in specific and an otaku in general helped). And Frozen was Frozen was bedsheets.
But truth be told, being nagged into seeing only animated films in the theaters can really wear on a Peter Wier fan like myself. I like my cartoons, sure, and am quite fond of the animated shorts that precede the features at the local, classy second-run movie house. However I like the option to see a sub-PG flick, and not being screeched in to one.
Well thank Heavens for the folks at Pixar. Their work is almost always a welcome addition to any marquee.
When I was in college between studying, binge drinking and studying binge drinking, the spring of ’95 introduced to an unsuspecting, movie-going public to the future of animated films. A semi-regular thing my friends and I did on a lazy Saturday was to take a break, go out that evening to the multiplex and take in a movie. Thanks to the nascent media saturation online, we got hip to forthcoming films of interest a via Internet message boards a whole month before the newswire reached the mainstream media (this was the 90s. Time for you to let out some line). We heard about some upstart animation studio calling themselves Pixar (maybe you’ve heard of them) releasing their debut film that would herald in the next-gen of cartoons. It was computer generated en toto. It wasn’t traditional cell animation, and not a blend of CGI with the classic cartooning technique. No. It was completely rendered in pixels. A first for a full feature-length film. Even I left my flask alone on opening night.
Toy Story was both a revolution and a portent for all animated movies coming down the pike. It also more or less set the standard for voice-acting and storyboarding for the next 20 years. However, I don’t think this was what the geniuses at Pixar intended for at the time. Sure, the maverick studio knew they were the first shot fired in the battle for supremacy when it came to future animated features (as well as probably trying to unseat the monolithic Disney as king of the cartooning mountain). I don’t think they intended to became the actual monolith itself. This might’ve proven right since a great deal of audiences back then viewed Toy Story‘s pixelated renditions of sentient playthings as nothing more than a novelty. A very well-executed novelty, but a lark nonetheless. Full CGI would never replace traditional cell animation, the standard for close to a century.
Fast forward two decades…
All right, all right. You know. Now there’s no such thing as cell yadda yadda yadda pass the Twizzlers. Every animated feature film is pixelated now. This became the reality in no small part to Pixar’s capital-Q quality movies, setting the gold standard. And not just in picture quality and special effects, which one has to admit has been evolving as the tech has, and are increasingly more beautiful and intricate with every ensuing release. There’s also excellent voice acting from name stars, compelling characters and—above all—captivating stories.
That last part’s the key to Pixar’s success. Hey, if it was just all about shock-and-awe tactics, people would tire of the studio’s schtick years ago. You want splash and dash? Go check out half of DreamWorks’ output. Or Warners. Hell, even Disney lately (the parent company, BTW). But if you want consistency and substance, not just a fleeting rush, the go-to guys have been Pixar for years. They ain’t number one for nothin’.
That’s been the case. But recently I’ve caught a whiff of something lurking.
Now I’ll admit I’m a touch cynical when it comes to Hollywood (speaking of shock-and-awe). I get suspicious of winning formulas obviously rehashed in lessening forms like with the Die Hard franchise. Call it movie vigilance or otherwise Alex Jones panic theory in action (perhaps both), but I can’t help but sense a taint—a slight but perceptible decline in quality in Pixar’s work as of recent. It’s actually more of a hiccup, if you will. Barring Inside Out, the studio’s latest projects are less sticking to a winning formula but rather approaching formulaic. The feeling of cutting-edge began to dull a shade, and the stories are taking fewer risks. Instead of appealing to a mass audience—I tell my friends that Pixar movies are family films, not just kiddie fare—the G-rated crowd seems to have squarely targeted first and mopey, ever-patient parents an increasingly distant second.
I could blame Disney, with their acquisition of Pixar almost a decade ago. But before I go on, let me say that I find it ironic the studio who rejected most of the brains behind Pixar—who thereby quit the House of Mouse to fly solo—eventually and in essence hired the lot back. Unsure if this was either because of Pixar’s runaway success or their becoming an active threat in digging in to Disney’s pie. Perhaps both. One would be hard pressed to deny that Disney’s own animated efforts (save Frozen, which was co-created by former Pixar artists) have been lacking for…well, ever since Disney bought Pixar. I think the former was hedging a bet when they bought out the latter. At least Diz was astute enough to let Pixar hold onto its moniker and a certain degree of autonomy.
So sure, it could be easy to beat up on Disney for Pixar’s scattershot record as of late. But you know what they say, if you sell it, someone will buy it for the right price. If you think about it, possibly without Disney’s budget, wonders like Up and Inside Out with their exceptional programming might not have happened. Perhaps.
That being said, one can’t fault Pixar’s hit-and-miss recent catalogue completely on Disney. It was shortly after the first Cars movie that Pixar’s quality and consistency started to slip, and not long before Diz stepped in with its deal and clout—and their increasingly lame animated movies—that Pixar’s output may well be described as “scattershot.” Cars was a prime example of aiming a Pixar movie straight at the kiddies (despite hiring Larry the Cable Guy, a blessing or a curse depending on whom you ask. Please, don’t ask me) diluting some of the Pixar spark. The final result was meh. Too bad it was Paul Newman’s swan song.
But then we had the unimpeachable WALL-E, followed by the winner Up. Both innovative and classic in a single breath. Both borrowing from classic Hollywood tropes with a surprisingly modernist touch, if not post-modern. They had excellent voice acting with quality actors, veteran and newbs alike, emoting as well as they might on the sound stage (it took a little longer with WALL-E, but it was worth the wait. Go Fred Willard!). And the sharp animation didn’t hurt either. Both films were very rewarding.
Sorry. I wasn’t much of a fan of Ratatouille, despite the subject matter and Patton Oswalt. Don’t hit me.
Then, for some inexplicable reason, we got Cars 2. You understand the machinations behind creating sequels. Either there’s another story there to follow up on, like with the James Bond movies (most were based on a series of books, after all), or the parent studio smelled big buckaroos capitalizing on a winning formula. Or trend. Or gimmick. Or whatever obscures common sense in the studio boardroom. Out rolls the cheddar until the mold takes hold. Then come the reboots.
Seriously though, Cars 2 was the first release under the banner of the Disney/Pixar name. And it stunk. It was nothing more than 80-plus minutes of gimmickry, distraction, sparkly and product placement. It was later followed, but not in direct order, by another needless sequel, Monsters University. Now let me tell you: Monsters, Inc, Pixar’s second release (only second!), was so heartfelt, touching and self-contained there was absolutely no reason—not chasing a muse, at least—to expand the universe any further. Oh, did I say sequel? My bad. Monsters University was a red-headed stepchild with herpes scars: a prequel. It’s one of the most odious tricks in Hollywood’s trick bag to separate the gullible from their money. Remember Star Wars, eps. 1-3? Uh-huh.) Since Pixar apparently prided its creative output on innovation and originality, why a sequel? Hell, why two?
I sense the Disney strong-arm. I’m not saying the studio directly laid any pressure on Pixar’s creative license. It’s not like the above films, no matter their flaws, had the stamp of a paw print on their digital drafting boards. Dinsey and Pixar usually have a very distinct signature, and WALL-E et al possessed that. But I feel behooved to mention—reheat, if you will—my masticating of John Carter a few months back. I made the argument that Carter came apart at the seams due in part to Disney meddling, protecting their investment instead of giving in to the director’s vision of a more organic S/F tale. The end result was indeed entertaining, but also stiff, protracted and the sticky fingerprints of how sh*t is supposed to go down at the House of Mouse. Disney Studios’ influence in production was rampant with Carter. Not the Disney Touch, the Disney Process. Unwavering and ultimately obsolete.
For years, decades even, that process worked. Disney was it. No one could touch them. And why not? Their animated features were amazing. Pinocchio, Snow White, hell even The Jungle Book were either cutting edge or hopelessly charming. Even their smaller fare like their Winnie The Pooh efforts were endearing and bore the unmistakeable Dinsey Touch. Audiences lapped it up, and other animators strove to imitate, never truly duplicate the grandeur of Disney’s animated adventures.
It should come as no surprise that despite the early rivalry and perceived acrimony Pixar had with Disney that comparisons would be made. And made they were; it was inevitable. The Disney Process was entrenched in the movie making industry. Even if one had never even seen a Disney film (hard to believe, but it must’ve happened. Kinda like sighting Sasquatch), its reputation preceded everything. It’s tough to argue against the possibility that Pixar followed that Process in making their films.
With Brave, that Process was keenly felt. There were similarities between Brave‘s delivery and Disney’s dyed-in-wool methodology. But it was kind of like comparing the styles of similar directors.
For example, consider the canons of Steven Spielberg and Robert Zemekis. Both have similar styles. They have unique signatures in their craft. We have Jaws, Schindler’s List and two Best Directing Oscars on one side, and Back To The Future, Forrest Gump and multiple snubs on the other. One influenced the other, and the other developed their own voice. It’s no different between Disney and Pixar. When you watch a Spielberg film, you know its a Spielberg film for its feel. The same with Zemekis. Disney has their Touch, borne from their Process, and Pixar has their spark. Both are similar, but have their own unique fingerprints.
Brave blurred the corners, and with curious results. Sure, the film was a success—as all Pixar films become—but it came at a cost. Be it following a “template” or Papa Walt’s ghost asserting itself, Pixar slipped some. Especially in the eyes of the critics, and some audiences, too.
As I have hammered home before many, many times, movies are made to make money. It’s a business first, and a creative outlet second. I’m willing to wager that if Disney wasn’t directly forcing Pixar’s hand with every other of their films in the past decade, their business acumen might have been. Sure, WALL-E, Ratatouille, Cars 2 and even Up had their fair share of merchandising—a large chunk of movie-made money—but I have a hard time believing said films were made with that in mind. At least, not directly in mind, if you catch my drift.
Disney is not just a studio. It’s a brand. They have heavy influence, beyond the silver screen (curious fact: Disney has the third largest fleet of ships in the world. The world. Only the US and UK naval fleets are larger. Think about that. Now stop). Such name-recognition has gravity. Pixar’d have to be pretty naive to ignore this. Maybe Disney didn’t apply any muscle against the once upstart rival, but my money is on that their presence was felt. The brand was in the air, and a rep had to be upheld. John Carter be damned. Same for Monsters U.
So now we have Brave. The spark at odds with the Process. And that Process is hard to escape when making an animated film, even including the studio that indoctrinated it.
Here’s a story. A few years back, Disney released and publicly announced its “last princess movie” Tangled, based on the tale of Rapunzel. I found the movie to be great, and a fine statement to usher in a new Process (I can be very naive). It was the last great Diz animated movie until Frozen rolled along. That being said, Frozen made liars of Disney. They couldn’t escape their Process, heist by their own petard.
Well, sort of. Tangled technically was the last animated princess movie. However it was followed by Frozen, a film not about a princess, but two princesses. Loophole!
Maleficent had no princess…until the plot deemed it appropriate. But it wasn’t animated! Another loophole!
Brave under the Pixar banner featured a princess! But still it wasn’t technically a Disney movie! Um, loophole?
You smell a pattern forming here? Is this Process inevitable? Is there a brand being upheld? Does the presence spread? Unsure here on most fronts, but it does get one to wonder.
Yeah, I’m splitting hairs. So what? But I’m the barber here, and my point is this as before: Disney is a brand. It has a formula. It works, so praise the mouse and pass the tickets.
I again am willing to wager a pair of ears—not at first, but slowly and eventually—loomed over the production of Brave, radiating an omniscient presence…
Adolescence is seldom easy.
You’re regarded as a young adult, your personally maturing as does your physique. Approaching adulthood, yet still steeped in childish ways. You want—demand—to be respected as a mature individual, but you still gotta muck about in the woods chasing toads. You understand your responsibilities, you’d just rather have them on your own well-meaning but misguided terms. You’re a kid, just don’t let anyone call you that.
It’s even harder if you’re a princess. All that crapola wadded up and thrown into your petulant scowl on a daily basis. Despite your legacy.
Motherhood is never easy.
You’re responsible for not only escorting a life into this world, but also ensuring said life is brought up right. You must imbue this young person with both a sense of security as well as confidence and esteem. You must be sure that they want for nothing, but withhold any possible influence that may steer this young person down a wrong path. Yet in due course, you must unfurl your wings and let this darling child spreading their own wings and take flight, face risk. You must hold hard to the belief you did the best by them and pray that they will find a way in the world that sets a true aim.
It’s even harder if you’re a queen. All that regality dictates not only propriety, but to set an example. An example not only to your subjects, but to your family. Your legacy. And yes, to your petulant princess daughter.
Princess Merida (MacDonald) and Queen Elinor (Thompson) share similar ideals, but on completely different wavelengths. One pulls. The other pushes. And back again. And so forth. Merida demands to be her own person, on her own terms and for her own benefit. Elinor demands the respect a mother and a queen demands, in that order, for Merida’s benefit as well as hers. Neither side of this family dynamic seems to wish to weigh the vitalness of it all in the endgame.
It’s a bear of a problem…
As I was rambling on, Pixar felt like it was taking leave of its senses in fits and starts over the past ten years. I wasn’t saying that this was a conscious thing, though. Disney’s presence might have been felt, like someone staring at you from behind or that wafting from the back of the fridge, your long since forgotten about saved hunk of tuna melt glossed with gorgonzola or discovering what the fate became of your beloved hamster Fred.
Too much? Just driving the point home.
With Brave, Pixar took the big jump into a tried-and-true device that their parent company had utilized as their stock in trade since they invented it: they cut a princess movie.
True, hardly an original concept. The furthest from actually. Like I said, such a scenario has been Disney’s bread-and-butter as far back as their first, full-length animated feature, Snow White And The Seven Dwarves. Hell, Disney f*cking created the template. The same template every single animation feature since has more-or-less adhered to. And why not? It’s worked. To greater or lesser degrees. I suppose it was a matter of time that Pixar got hip to this idea.
Still, one can’t help but wonder, with Pixar’s recent scattershot (I’m gonna use that adjective a lot here) output that if their benefactor’s presence in the ether had a little bit of pull. True, the fairy tale aspect works wonders when done right, but you can only tell the same story so much until is grows threadbare. No matter how well the merch sells. I mean, even to today I see hordes of Merida childcrap being hawked at Target. At reduced prices sure, but then again I needed socks. So there.
Like I said, and with no shock, the princess story works when done well. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid and not to mention the anime renditions Princess Mononoke, Oh My Goddess! and Urusei Yatsura work great. All have comedy and tragedy (and to greater or lesser degrees), cool mystique and engaging characters paired with compelling storytelling. That’s the template, but when done poorly—and beyond just a faulty execution—derivative aping of a good, effective formula can at best be considered unoriginal and at worst insulting. Insulting to the story as well as the audience.
Before any further analysis, Brave is Pixar’s first foray into the princess story. It did have all the hallmarks of the template. We have a brave (duh) but vulnerable princess. We have a fantastic realm to explore (this time the highlands of Scotland, one might assume. Sure, it’s no Rivendell, but it’s sure is hella pretty). We got those tricky family dynamics. And we have the quest for fate. There’s even a bit of a King Lear analogy going on, so we got classic drama in effect. So roll camera already.
Brave possesses all the above qualities and aspects. And since the whole schtick has been overdone to death many times over already (“last princess movie.” Malarkey), an audience must wonder—especially beleaguered moms and dads—how many times can this tale be told? More over, how many times well? Been there, done that. Get on with happily ever after.
We’ve come to rely on Pixar movies to elevate tired storytelling tropes of adventures and self-discovery into high entertainment and emotional investment. Brave is no different.
Here it comes.
However understanding the machinations of the princess tale—and doubtless Pixar does thanks to its benefactor—doesn’t mean a hell of whole lot if you follow the above template for rote. One would think that Pixar would have all its ducks in a row when it comes to creating a princess tale. It’s pretty easy when you think about it, and audiences already have certain expectations even if they’ve never even heard of Sleeping Beauty. It’s so saturated our collective pop culture consciousness its akin to never seeing an episode of Star Trek, but virtually everyone knows who Mr Spock is. Thank or blame Disney for this. So surely Pixar knows what to deliver.
And they did. All too well.
Brave, although gorgeous—Pixar had some new programming to try out, and in that they delivered. Big time—is a stock fairy tale. It even had actual fairies (okay, will-o’-the-wisps. Let’s not argue semantics). It has all the above criteria, and is delivered in a very bland, almost ham-fisted kind of way. The movie’s fairly predictable, as all princess stories are, but its the twists and turns the (hopefully compelling) characters follow that make the ride unique and fun. Such a tale shouldn’t be transparent dappled with a few clever touches. Brave was predictable in the worst way. I found myself internally demanding (cue Monty Python voice) “Get on with it!”
A big issue I took with Brave was beyond just the linear nature of the story with all its tips and tricks is it had no spark. It lacked the touch of a Pixar movie. In fact, it didn’t even feel like a Pixar movie. There wasn’t the usual je ne sais quoi here. Not only did Brave not feel like a Pixar film, it felt more like a (shudder) classicist Disney film. Sure, princesses are Disney’s goldmine, and they don’t necessarily hold the reigns ultra tight, but they do know their sh*t about such a thing. They kinda wrote the book and all. Some presence was felt.
Pixar’s made their mark either innovating or upending warhorses, not cowing to them. Brave follows the Disney playbook play by play. And a lot of it seems forced. Feels forced. I’m not going to blame Disney for placing a firm hand on Pixar’s shoulder here. Despite their presence was clearly felt, I doubt Brave was yielding to Disney standard princess story practices. One could make the argument after watching the movie that Pixar was trying to cut a tribute to said story. A nod to the classic storyline. But again I’m not sure; it feels like weak sauce.
A lot of it has to do with that “not feeling like a Pixar film.” What I mean is Brave‘s lack of or limited whimsy. Normally that’s a good thing, but Pixar’s been a whiz at turning the syrupy cutes on its ear. You know, those little tweaks in the script that otherwise might result in either bathos or insulting your intelligence. A good example of Pixar’s mad skillz? The final scene of Monsters, Inc or Carl attending Russell’s
REDACTED in Up. Both could’ve been construed as squishy, but instead fulfilled the plots. Brave lacks this pseudo-whimsy. A lot of the emotional plot beats land squarely on the nose, no nuance.
This has a lot to do with the film’s pacing. Yeah, you’ve heard it before. This is my big gripe when it comes to enjoying movies: lack of smooth story flow. Brave comes across as so uneven and blatantly intrusive it feels rushed. The pace, as well as the action is very busy. It’s borderline frenetic. To be fair though, we at least have some of the always noted Pixar nuanced touches, but they fly by so fast they barely have time to register. It’s like the action comes so fast and hard you nary have a chance to breathe. Why was Brave in such a hurry, and to what end? It felt exhausting. Despite the kiddies mainlining Sour Patch Kids, doubts even here how they could pay attention.
About that—sugar rushes notwithstanding—halfway through my viewing of Brave, my previous opinions about following the Disneyesque princess tale rulebook almost note for note faded. There was a distinct tinkering in Brave that either was a bastardized “Pixar touch” or a distinct, almost forced statement that this movie was decidedly not a contemporary Disney thing. Brave quickly took a turn to create a feel that was more squarely aimed at grown-ups, as if rebuking the usual kiddie crowd, rejecting them.
The second act got very heavy very quick. We understood over 30 minutes that Merida and Elinor have very different agenda. Brave abruptly becomes a journey of understanding into something more dire. The tension escalates, sure, but so does the scary imagery and even the violence. Fessing up, I actually saw Brave first-run (remember my daughter’s unwavering pull?) back in 2o12, but remembered next to nothing of it until I scoured critical reviews online. The Standard was met this way, so onto the queue it went. I had my memory jogged by the time Brave‘s third act rolled around for the RIORI viewing. I remembered I heard screaming, not sounds of excitement but literal screaming coming from the kiddies during the fight scenes. It was akin to Ellison’s review of 1984’s Gremlins. Director Joe Dante called his movie “ET with teeth.” To wit, “fangs is more like it” Ellison noted. Hell, even I had issues with Brave‘s intensities, the screeching kindergarteners in attendance notwithstanding.
A few more troubles of note. Relax, these are going to be technical issues, devoid of angry grizzlies.
For one (maybe more. Lost count here), everything in Brave comes across as very tightly controlled, almost measured. A good instance? Why does the humor feel so forced? I mean from the story’s aspect it’s truly not, but the overall feel says otherwise. With all the tension I spoke of above you need something to release the steam valve. But the jokes comes across as not quite organic. They’re almost expected, following in line with the rest of Brave‘s execution. This, like some of the other “softer” stuff in the movie seemed either out of a strict Disney blueprint or otherwise hackneyed. We had a pretty good mother/daughter subplot going on, but it was trite even though it had enough story to elevate it above average. But it was struggling to have its voice heard.
Come to think of it, a voice is what was sorely absent from Brave. I mentioned earlier that the animators at Pixar got their mitts on some new fancy-schmancy tech, which they unleashed with Brave. I said that movie was missing its usual studio flair. Perhaps one could make another argument that the animators were so enraptured with their new toy that stuff like plot, characterization and pacing were left behind in a case of future shock. I’ve already spoken at length about the dissonance Brave had when measured up to Pixar classics (or even Frozen for that matter). This might’ve been a not-so-simple case of form preceding function here. Just a thought. I don’t know.
Whew. Many theories abound. But what’s not theoretical about Brave is the aforementioned animation techniques. Not to be denied, Brave is a very, very pretty film. Even the bouncy scarlet locks of Princess Merida are enough to give the most wizened daddy pause. It’s near perfect CGI, and no denying here that even with a questionable script, the minds at Pixar know how to play some english on them keypads.
The technical aspects or Brave are nothing short of flawless. Forgetting its narrative hiccups for a moment, the gift of the animators at Pixar in creating lush, eye-popping visual paired with classic filmmaking skills are definitely not for want here. Pixar has always been quite adept at “camera work.” I say this in quotes because there are really no traditional cameras used here. It’s all a trick of the light, literally. Put aside any prejudices towards Brave‘s storyline and you’ll find it easy—natural—to enter into the verdant, sprawling world of Merida and Elinor. The forests, the water, the bawdy goings-on in the labyrinthine castle, all of it is a feast for the senses both visual and audio.
Speaking of audio, both Brave‘s sound editing and the soundtrack are awesome (maybe too much so at times, recalling the keening wails from dozens of misled kids). The effects and especially the music were so rich and think you could pour it over pancakes. It really, really enhanced the atmosphere of the whole movie, regardless of its faulty delivery. The sound filled the room, and not in any distracting way either. It was like a warm quilt, holding everything together. I felt—felt—my ears prick up over and over again across 90 minutes, immersed in the progression of a story that, like I said, wasn’t terribly special. The soundtrack tricked me into thinking Brave was. That’s some tech, and I can’t recall that ever happening to me with a movie before. Beyond the gee-whiz THX factor that is (sure my ears were bleeding when I saw Alien: Resurrection, but blame the projectionist falling asleep at the reel. Either that and the stupid plot).
Reeling it in, I feel the greatest issue with Brave as a movie is not its perceived attempt to create its own Disney-flavored princess tale. They tried and fell short. Hell, it happens to even the greatest of heroes, right Achilles? No. The biggest mistake I feel with Brave is that Pixar tried too hard. Maybe in perhaps trying to pay homage to Disney movies or by clear-cutting their own path Pixar lost the plot, figuratively and otherwise. That and the temptation of letting loose some new sparkly in a Bikini Atoll-fevered anticipation. Whatever the motivation, Brave went over stiff and ended up tasting stale, if not outright lame.
One final thing. Brave wasn’t as risky as most Pixar films. Following the template resulted in a stilted attempt to not reinvent the wheel per se, but seemingly deny all the stuff that’s made Pixar’s output so celebrated the past. At first it was just cutting cartoons out of pixels. That alone was enough to make folks flock to Toy Story back in the day. What keep them coming back for Monsters, Inc, A Bug’s Life, Finding Nemo and so on was about compelling stories and interesting characters. That and turning classic story tropes on their collective noggins. Pixar does family films, not exclusively kiddie fare. To succeed at that, you gotta take risks. You need to imbue some bitter with the sweet. You should engage in some thoughtful social commentary. You have to shoot Bambi’s mom once in a while. You know, like big, bad ol’ Diz did.
First you learn the rules. Then you break some. Pixar should tear a page from its own book before they drop another drippy sequel or something.
*applying Lewis Black’s growly voice*
“Can I use a swear word now?”
Rent it or relent it? With a heavy heart, thy must relent it. Brave‘s not a bad movie. It’s just not a Pixar movie, if you smell my haggis.
- A “will-o’-the-wisp” is traditionally a spirit that escorts the fallen into the afterlife. Just right for a kiddie flick, no?
- “Feast yer eyes!”
- Brief ass shots equal a PG rating, and not the violent fighting bears. Thank you, America.
- “That’s my favorite part!”
- Hard to believe all this craziness occurred over only two and a half days.
- “Just remember to smile…”
- My wife’s biggest issue with Brave was its violence (the knife thing was particularly—forgive the pun—pointed). Not to mention Merida trying (and succeeding) to change her
REDACTED. Both were disappointing to the say the least and outright unsettling overall. Even the kid agreed, one of the mewling many at the multiplex then.
- “Bring the tiny glasses.” Well, it is a big crowd.
- Did anyone get the Inside Out reference above there? I was trying to be clever. Trying. Where y’all going?
There’s a massive earthquake ripping across the San Andreas Fault! Do you smell what them rocks are cooking?!?