The Greatest Trick

Reviewing Pixar films is getting increasingly predictable. Every feature they make seems to stretch their creative, storytelling and technical abilities to breaking point, yet they always manage to pull it off. So when I say Wall-E is their most technically accomplished and probably most brilliant film to date, it sounds completely redundant. But even by Pixar’s ludicrously high standards director Andrew Stanton (who made Finding Nemo) has crafted an instant masterpiece that stands tall and proud among the very greatest of family films.

In the year 2110, mankind abandoned the Earth because it was covered with rubbish and uninhabitable. Left behind were several thousand robots, Wall-E units, assigned to clear up. 700 years later, they have all long since broken down except one who has developed something of an eccentric personality. He has a little home filled with curious objects he has discovered (light bulbs, whisks, and so forth), and a penchant for the not exactly classic Barbra Streisand musical Hello Dolly, which he watches endlessly on an old VHS tape. His only companion is a cockroach who he has trained as a pet. But Wall-E is desperately lonely.

His mundane garbage clearing routine is suddenly disrupted by the arrival of Eve, a sleek female robot who has been sent to Earth by surviving humans to see whether plant life is growing there again. In the process she meets Wall-E and although at first she tries to blast him into atoms, the two eventually make friends and begin to fall in love.

I know the plot sounds preposterous, but Pixar have made a career out of taking inanimate objects such as toys and cars, bringing them to life and investing them with a depth of humanity often greater than those of actual human performances! Wall-E has this in spades, and the developing relationship between him and Eve is so full of humour, warmth, melancholy and excitement that suspension of disbelief is effortlessly achieved.

The first half of Wall-E has been hailed as an audacious experiment in that it contains no dialogue. The plot is told visually through bleeped robotic responses and movements (especially in the eyes) that convey the necessary emotions, but then cinema is a visual medium and this ought to be the ideal. As screenwriting guru Robert McKee says, “Image is the first choice. Dialogue is the regrettable second choice”. Before Wall-E was released, some were initially unsure children would go for such a return to what is essentially silent cinema, but I recall as a child massively enjoying silent classics such as Buster Keaton’s The General and Charlie Chaplin’s The Gold Rush. Besides, there are hugely effective dialogue free sequences in many classic family films (the brilliant opening of ET for instance). In addition, the convention of many cartoons (such as Tom and Jerry) is to have as little dialogue as possible, and therefore I am sure children should be more than ready for the not-as-audacious-as-it-sounds, first half.

In the second half, Eve is taken by a spacecraft and Wall-E tries to rescue her. This leads to an amazing journey through space to the gigantic starship Axiom, where the surviving humans reside. To say anymore at this stage would spoil the fun suffice to say the plot unfolds simply and beautifully.

Here I must insert the obligatory paragraph about Pixar’s magnificent visuals, and there are images here that will stay with you for the rest of your life. The bleak, dystopian visions of an abandoned, rubbish-covered Earth are vast, epic, and astonishingly lonely. The level of detail in the rusted buildings, deserted roads, dust storms and smog once again fuels my suspicions that those who work for Pixar have some kind of artistic obsessive compulsive disorder that drives them to improve on perfection. In the second half of the film, the look changes with a journey through space so achingly beautiful it almost brings a tear to the eye. Once aboard the Axiom, the polished sheen of the spacecraft interiors are so phenomenally detailed that I am forced to conclude that if Michelangelo was alive today, he’d be working for Pixar. Such artistic craftsmanship simply has to be seen on a big screen to be properly appreciated.

Wall-E is also an extraordinary auditory experience. Much of the credit must go to Ben Burtt, the man behind some of the greatest sound effects in cinema history (R2 D2, lightsabres, Jurassic Park dinosaurs, etc). It is appropriate that here Burtt uses samples of his own voice amid his orchestra of bleeps, whistles and other sounds that bring the character of Wall-E to life.

Even though Wall-E owes and acknowledges a debt to science fiction classics such as Silent Running and 2001: A Space Odyssey (there’s even a HAL-like villain), at heart it’s more akin to optimistic modern fantasy tales like Star Wars or ET. Yet it still seems miraculously fresh and original – a potential science fiction classic in its own right, and one that leaves the viewer on a dizzying high.

What raises this above the level of merely an absolutely first-rate entertainment is the timely but non-preachy warning about the dangers of greed and environmental mismanagement. It is also an interesting examination of what could happen to the human race should it ever become overly dependant on automation. Sequences where the now obese, brainwashed humans aboard the Axiom rediscover one another, (as opposed to images of one another on video screens) and learn about things they have long since forgotten centuries ago (such as agriculture) as a result of Wall-E’s antics underscore this point. In addition, Wall-E is a surprisingly profound study of loneliness and longing, and even has a Biblical worldview (without mentioning Jesus or God) in that it depicts its central character as being someone who is prepared to heroically lay down his life for his friends.

One lovely, lovely sequence where Wall-E and Eve dance through space using a fire extinguisher to propel them, will go down in cinema history as one of the greatest visualisations of pure joy ever seen on the big screen (and please, I beg you, see it on a big screen). For this scene alone, I suspect that in years to come, Wall-E will join the elite ranks alongside The Wizard of Oz, The Railway Children, The Jungle Book, Mary Poppins and ET as one of the greatest family films ever made.

Simon Dillon, July 2008.

Kung Fu Panda is one of those films that has everything you need to know about it in the title. This slight but diverting animated tale of a fat Panda called Po who dreams of being a Kung Fu legend should entertain most children, whilst providing some amusing send-ups of classic Kung Fu movies for the adults.

The plot concerns Po, whose dream to join Kung Fu fighters Crane, Tigress, Monkey, Mantis and Viper, whom he idolises, suddenly comes true when it is revealed he is destined to become the “Dragon Fighter”, the one who will free their valley of the evil Tai Lung (a particularly vicious leopard). Along the way, audiences are subjected to the predictable but worthwhile message about being yourself.

There are some fairly good laughs to be had here, especially Po’s fanboyish behaviour as he meets his heroes. There is plenty of inspired slapstick too, in sequences ranging from a thrillingly ludicrous prison breakout, a fight on a rope bridge, a hugely amusing training montage involving chopsticks, and an action packed final duel.

The animation is rich and detailed, though not quite up to Pixar’s impossibly high standards. Various big name vocal talents all contribute amusing performances, including Angelina Jolie, Dustin Hoffman, Lucy Liu, Seth Rogan, Ian McShane, Jackie Chan, and of course Jack Black. The screenplay is engaging, and directors Mark Osborne and John Stevenson make good use of the widescreen format.

In short, this is nothing particularly remarkable or particularly bad, and as such, there’s not a lot to write about.

Simon Dillon, July 2008.

Prince Caspian has always been the least interesting of CS Lewis’ Narnia series. Essentially, it’s the one you have to read to get to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader – a much more exciting novel. However, director Adam Adamson has used this to his advantage by making significant improvements to the story and reshaping its dramatic structure. As a result, Prince Caspian the film is a more satisfying experience than its predecessor, even though The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was a much better book. It’s a curious trend, and one that is shared by the Harry Potter series (Order of the Phoenix was the least interesting of the books, but is so far the best of the films).

For those unfamiliar with the plot, some 1300 years have passed in Narnia since the events of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The Telmarines, a group of humans, have taken control of Narnia and banished all the magical creatures into exile. Prince Caspian, true heir to the throne, is almost killed by his usurping Uncle Miraz and forced to flee into the forests, whereupon he discovers the dwarfs, talking animals etc he had been brought up to believe were extinct. In a moment of desperation, he summons the Pevensie children – Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy – back to Narnia (only one year has passed in our world) via Susan’s magic horn from the previous story.

The early Harry Potter films were hamstrung by an over earnestness to follow the books precisely, but thankfully Andrew Adamson doesn’t make the same mistake with the Narnia films. Almost all of the changes he has made make the story better. Most significantly, instead of being a child as in the books, Caspian is a young man. Character motivations are more fleshed out, including a believable rivalry that develops between Peter and Caspian. Less believable is a poorly judged romantic subplot between Caspian and Susan, but that’s a minor nit.

The Pevensie children – Georgie Henley, Skandar Keynes, William Moseley and Anna Popplewell as Lucy, Edmund, Peter and Susan respectively – all contribute decent performances, but only Henley’s excellent Lucy really stands out. Newcomer Ben Barnes does fairly well in the lead, and on the basis of this I look forward to seeing him in the Dawn Treader film next summer. However, Sergio Castellitto’s Miraz lacks the necessary menace to make a truly memorable villain like the White Witch. Elsewhere Peter Dinklage and Warwick Davies provide good support as dwarves Trumpkin and Nikabrik respectively. Davies’ appearances in films like this are inevitable and welcome. Those with long memories will also remember he played warrior mouse Reepicheep in the BBC TV version. Incidentally, Eddie Izzard does a decent job of voicing Reepicheep in this version.

Also worth mentioning are Damian Alcazar, Simon Andreu, Predrag Bjelac, Peter Bowles, and Juan Diego Montoya Garcia as various Telmarine dignitaries and generals whose political intrigues and backstabbing provide an interesting diversion for older audience members. Rounding out the cast, are Ken Stott, who makes a decent fist of Trufflehunter the Badger, and Cornell John who brings the appropriate gravitas to centaur Glenstorm (described by the filmmakers in a particularly absurd fit of political correctness as an “African Narnian”). Finally, Liam Neeson has a welcome but brief return vocal appearance as Aslan the Lion.

The action set pieces are all good, and occasionally even outstanding – especially the Lord of the Rings-esque battle sequences, one which involves Ent-like trees. Another excellent sequence details an ill-conceived night attack on Miraz’s castle. Best of all is a stunning, all too brief sequence where a hag, werewolf and renegade dwarf lure Caspian into summoning the White Witch back from beyond the grave. The special effects compliment these scenes well and are certainly an improvement on the first film. Also improved is the cinematography, which uses beautiful New Zealand locations to splendid effect. Even Harry Gregson-Williams’ music score has improved.

The Narnia books are all spiritual allegories, and here the allegory seems to be something vague about the restoration of true faith after a perversion, possibly referring to the reformation. Less vague are strong lessons about crisis of faith and how arrogance can cause us to fight battles that require divine intervention in our own strength. Most interestingly, there is an understated but clear condemnation of using sorcery, even if only as a means to an end, which should please Christians who have issues with a certain Mr Potter. Other traditional virtues such as courage, loyalty, honour and standing against evil are all extolled, so there’s plenty to praise from a moral perspective.

Overall, Prince Caspian is a darker, tougher ride, but it’s also more humorous than its predecessor (one priceless moment involving Reepicheep and a cat in particular). Families of all ages will enjoy this, especially children, and although it’s not a monumental, groundbreaking work like The Lord of the Rings, I would argue it is actually better than the book on which it is based.

Simon Dillon, June 2008.

Disney’s love affair with London (see Mary Poppins, Peter Pan, Bedknobs & Broomsticks etc.) lasted from the 1950s to, arguably, the 1980s (with Basil The Great Mouse Detective), and this entry, made in 1975 is largely throwaway, moderately amusing now I’m not a child, faintly racist but mostly harmless. My kids are watching it right now for the third time in as many days, which can’t be bad for a film of more than thirty years where everyone speaks in that quaint, Queen’s English jolly-hockey-sticks manner - but then my kids have resolutely NOT been raised on a diet of talking CG animals, with the exception of Nemo, so they’ve no reason to expect that kind of a film.

The plot is peculiar though - Lord Southmere (Derek Nimmo) returns to London from China having stolen a microfilm, and as soon as he re-enters the country is chased by Chinese spies (led by Hnup Wan - Peter Ustinov) to get it back. He resorts to hiding the film on a dinosaur in the Natural History Museum, and just before he is apprehended by the Chinese bumps into his former nanny (played with dignity and poise throughout by Helen Hayes) and her nanny friend, who he charges with finding the film and keeping it from the Chinese. When Wan decides to steal the dinosaur, the nannies get the jump on them, and take it off for a thrilling chase around London.

The aspect that sticks out like a mile now I’m an adult re-watching it is the fact that all the Chinese are played by Englishmen (Ustinov, Clive Revill, Bernard Bresslaw) in shocking amounts of make-up and very silly accents, especially Ustinov. Heidi and I wondered yesterday whether our parents were equally uncomfortable about it, but came to the conclusion that this actually possibly makes it less racist. If the jokes that are made at the expense of the Chinese and the silliness they get involved in were directed at genuine Chinese actors, it would be a great deal more uncomfortable - thankfully every adult watching knows this is a piece of monumental silliness (especially when it is revealed what is actually on the microfilm). And kids? Well, the setting, style and language of the film makes it so far removed from their reality that I don’t think one could accuse the film of promoting unhelpful attitudes towards the Chinese and have that accusation stand.

It’s fun and silly, harmless and good-hearted, and features some great music (which my kids are now dancing to while watching the DVD menu!). Great for the holidays.

Although fantasy movie fatigue might be setting in among audiences, The Spiderwick Chronicles isn’t a Narnia or Harry Potter rip-off, but something quite different in its own right. Viewers disappointed by the anaemic Golden Compass and downright awful Eragon will find their faith in the genre revitalised by this cracking and hugely underrated little adventure.

Recalling the heyday of dark, edgy kids films (ie the 1980s), The Spiderwick Chronicles owes as much to movies like Gremlins as it does to its source material. I haven’t read the books on which this was based, but apparently the screenplay condenses all the stories into one film. What is left works really well, and it’s also refreshing to see a Hollywood blockbuster that isn’t trying to self-consciously position itself as a potential franchise.

After their parents separate, twin brothers Jared and Simon Grace and their sister Mallory, move into the run-down Spiderwick Estate with their mother Helen. The sinister house was formerly owned by their great aunt Lucinda, who ended up in an insane asylum because she said her father, their great-great uncle Arthur Spiderwick was spirited away by faeries. Spiderwick had disappeared decades previously in mysterious circumstances.

In the old house, Jared discovers an old book written by Spiderwick which has a warning on the cover never to open it. Of course, he does, and discovers the book contains knowledge of many invisible creatures from an alternate world in the forest around the house. Unfortunately, the opening of the book is sensed by the evil shape-shifting ogre Mulgarath, who wants Spiderwick’s acquired knowledge for his own sinister ends.

This is terrific, scary stuff, and in many ways plays out like a horror film for children. But it’s also an empowering fable designed to help children to deal with the traumatic loss of a father (whether through death or divorce). It does not talk down to its young audience, nor does it smooth over the rough edges by forcing a happy ending where the parents are reunited. Steven Spielberg’s films still have the edge on depicting disintegrated families, but this does an admirable job of tackling the topic in a believable, unpatronising fashion.

On a more subtle level, The Spiderwick Chronicles also has a few messages for adults, mainly concerning the dangers of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. Arthur Spiderwick did not mean for his research to be a danger to all the supernatural creatures he discovered, but by documenting their secrets, this knowledge became a weapon in the hands of Mulgarath. One is vaguely reminded of how Einstein’s atomic theory gave birth to the Manhatten Project and ultimately nuclear weapons. Or it could allegorise the dangers of whatever current scientific research worries the viewer most – genetically modified biological weapons for instance (friendly hobgoblin Hogsqueal had all his kind wiped out by Mulgarath as a result of Spiderwick’s research).

The acting is good, especially from Freddie Highmore, currently the best child actor in the business. His performances as both Simon and Jared are excellent. Simon is the slightly square, sensitive, too-good-to-be-true twin, whilst Jared is the angry, sullen and frankly much more interesting one. Sarah Bolger is very good as Mallory, whose fencing skills come in handy for fighting goblins. Mary Louise Parker and Joan Plowright are both good as Helen and Lucinda respectively, and the excellent David Strathairn is memorably enigmatic as the mysterious Spiderwick. There are also good bit parts for Nick Nolte, Martin Short and Seth Rogan (who was obviously taking a break from the smutty comedies he is usually seen in).

Director Mark Waters does a great job of staging the action with atmosphere, tension and well-judged scares. The special effects are superb, and as I’ve already mentioned the screenplay is very good (not surprising when John Sayles is among those credited). If I had to pick nits, I’d point out that James Horner’s admittedly effective music score sounds very similar to his work for Casper.

In short, The Spiderwick Chronicles is a thrillingly exciting, properly frightening and massively entertaining experience for all the family; packed with thrills, chills, sinister houses, secret tunnels, magical devices, tomato ketchup bombs (lethal to goblins apparently), and monsters of all kinds. If your children are around 8 or over, do them a favour and take them to see this on the big screen.

Simon Dillon, March 2008.

Every so often I am forced to eat my words. After seeing trailers for Enchanted I thought it looked dreadful. I have a cordial dislike for obvious post-modernism in films and prefer my fairy tales served straight, without any nods and winks. However, after viewing it, I am forced, through gritted teeth, to admit that this is a genuinely charming family film and a triumphant return to form for Disney after years of downright mediocre output (Pixar animations notwithstanding).

Of course, sending up fairytales is nothing new. Most notably the Shrek films have gleefully and sometimes annoyingly spoofed the likes of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and others. But here it’s almost as though director Kevin Lima and screenwriter Bill Kelly are saying Disney can spoof their own products far more effectively – especially in a scene near the start involving a troll that looks suspiciously like Shrek.

Speaking of the opening, the film launches into a Snow White type story in an animated world with Princess Giselle (Amy Adams) awaiting her true love. Prince Edward (James Marsden) is searching for her, but a wicked queen, Narcissa (Susan Sarandon), is trying to keep them apart. This sequence is a deliberately syrupy, exaggerated version of classic Disney animated fare, but once Narcissa tricks Giselle and sends her to another world that turns out to be a live-action present day New York, the story takes an altogether different turn.

Giselle is soon helped by cynical, broken-hearted divorce lawyer Robert Phillip (Patrick Dempsey) and his six year old daughter Morgan (Rachel Covey – just the right side of too cute). Much hilarity ensues, as Giselle calls birds, rodents etc to clean up his apartment a la Snow White. In the meantime, Prince Edward has also entered New York, determined to track down Giselle, with a talking chipmunk who finds he cannot talk in our world, and Edward’s sidekick Nathaniel (Timothy Spall), who is secretly in league with Narcissa.

From there, things develop predictably but amusingly. There are several extremely funny one-liners, especially from the excellent James Marsden, whose hysterical performance is the best thing in the film. The rest of the cast are all good, although Susan Sarandon is underused.

Morally, Enchanted seems to have a two-fold message. First, romance is important. Robert’s relationship with his girlfriend Nancy (Idina Menzel) is in difficulty because he isn’t doing anything romantic to keep it alive. Furthermore, because he has previously been unlucky in love, Robert inflicts his bitterness on Morgan by buying her books about great women in history like Margaret Thatcher instead of the fairy stories she wants (of which he disapproves). Over the course of the film, he learns from Giselle that dreams can come true and it is possible to have a “happily ever after”.

Secondly, this is about having realistic expectations from a relationship. Giselle learns from Robert that it might actually be a good idea to get to know Edward before committing to marry him. She also learns that it’s no good to continually have one’s head in the clouds, and that real life can be hard. These dual themes are best summed up in a scene where two peripheral characters who had been going to divorce decide not to after encountering Giselle. There is no point missing out on the good times just because there are some tough times.

On a technical level, the special effects are good, including the CG animals. Alan Menken’s music and songs are good too, recalling his heyday in the early 1990’s animated Disney movies. Interestingly, upon arrival in New York, the film cleverly and seamlessly switches from standard screen size (1:85:1 aspect ratio) to widescreen (2:35:1 aspect ratio).

Only at the finale does the film come somewhat unstuck as a couple of key characters – including Edward – are sidelined. It could also be argued that the inevitably sugary happy ending was perhaps a bit too saccharine, but hey – it’s Disney, and we’re all entitled to a bit of sappiness, especially at Christmas.

No masterpiece then, but far more satisfying than The Golden Compass. Do your children a favour and take them to see this instead – not so much because The Golden Compass is spiritually abhorrent but because Enchanted is a much better film.

Simon Dillon, December 2007.

The end credits of Ratatouille proudly announce that “no motion capture or other short cuts were used in the making of this film. 100 per cent guaranteed real animation.” One can entirely understand why those involved in the production would want to announce this. Mere superlatives have long since been inadequate when describing the insanely high standard of Pixar’s animation, and Ratatouille’s technical merits are so astounding that one wonders if they are somehow cheating.

In fact, Ratatouille is such an unmitigated joy from start to finish that it would take a psychic to spot anything that indicated its troubled production history. Pixar were worried about how the film was shaping up, so Brad Bird was called upon to lick it into shape. Bird (who directed my favourite Pixar film The Incredibles, and my favourite animated film of all time The Iron Giant) is so revered in the animation world that the studio clearly hoped that the harnessing of his phenomenal skills could result in the alchemy that sometimes turns lead into gold. In this case, their hopes were not in vain.

Remy is a young rat living in the French countryside who dreams of being a gourmet chef. His father and brother do not understand his curious ambition, and discourage it. But when the rat colony is forced to suddenly flee, Remy is left alone in the centre of Paris next to the restaurant founded by his now-deceased cooking idol. After sneaking into the restaurant to get a closer look at gourmet cooking, a series of bizarre and hilarious events ensue, the upshot of which is that Remy makes an unusual alliance with the restaurant’s new garbage boy Linguini, who wants to cook but can’t. Remy, who it transpires is a naturally gifted chef, agrees to help him by pulling on his hair and operating him like a puppet to help fulfil his ambition. The witty screenplay explores this absurd idea to superb effect, and somehow manages to not only make it work but make it brilliant.

As I’ve already mentioned, the mind-boggling attention to detail is reason alone to make this a must-see. From autumnal French countryside to dark gurgling sewers and beautiful Paris cityscapes, every detail is so visually astounding that one cannot help wondering if the Pixar animators suffer from some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder in their continual determination to excel themselves.

On top of this, the vocal talents are excellent – Patton Oswalt, Ian Holm, Brian Dennehy, Lou Romano, Brad Garrett, and Janeane Garofalo are all outstanding in their various roles. But by far the most interesting character in Ratatouille is cynical acid-penned restaurant critic Anton Ego, superbly voiced by Peter O’Toole. One scene involving his character is a profound, disarming, and surprisingly moving exploration of how taste can be inextricably entwined with a specific time and place, causing those eating to relive past experiences and recall long lost innocence. As an aside, I couldn’t help wondering if Ego was created in response to the critical reception received by the previous Pixar film, Cars. Personally, I thought Cars was superb, but like Anton Ego, many critics inexplicably knocked off a star or two (so to speak) in their reviews. However, I can almost guarantee that star will be back for Ratatouille.

The film doesn’t just have things to say about food and critics. Familiar but worthy messages about being true to oneself, friendship, loyalty, ambition, the price of fame and prejudice are explored in pleasingly subtle fashion. One understated but hugely effective scene has Remy’s father showing him a shop window filled with rat poison and traps in an effort to dissuade him from associating with humans. Remy however refuses to accept life will always be that way, and wants to change things.

If that makes Ratatouille sound heavy, nothing could be further from the truth. It’s light as a feather, frequently hilarious, and contains several superbly exciting set pieces reminiscent of Chuck Jones or Tex Avery cartoons. Remy dodges coming to a nasty end many times inside the restaurant and the film ingeniously shows what potential death traps kitchens are for rats. Chases also spill out onto the Parisian streets and even into the Seine (in one particularly hysterical subplot involving a jealous chef who is determined to catch Remy). One scene where the rats come together at the end to help Remy prepare the eponymous Ratatouille is such a delightful, surreal, whimsical sequence that its narrative implausibility (even allowing for suspension of disbelief) becomes an irrelevance.

To sum up, Ratatouille is easily the best family film of the year, not to mention Pixar’s most technically proficient work yet, and confirms Brad Bird’s emerging reputation as the Steven Spielberg of animation. Please, please go and see it at the cinema, as the beautiful use of widescreen will inevitably suffer on television. It only remains for me to warn parents that your children may well demand pet rats after watching this. As the RSPCA would say, a rat is not just for Christmas.

One final thing: don’t arrive late and miss Lifted, the sublime cartoon before the main feature. It’s the funniest Pixar short film to date.

Simon Dillon, October 2007.

After March of the Penguins and Happy Feet, do we really need another penguin film? In the case of Surf’s Up, perhaps we do. It’s no masterpiece, but it certainly satisfies any animation cravings one might feel whilst waiting for Pixar’s reportedly superb Ratatouille.

Making witty use of the “mockumentary” format, Surf’s Up claims that penguins invented surfing. A documentary crew follows Cody Maverick (voiced by Transformers star Shia LeBeouf), a teenage penguin who dreams of winning a surfing tournament in the tropics. Once there, he meets cute penguin lifeguard, Lani Aliikai (Zooey Deschanel, recently seen in Bridge to Terebithia), hilariously insensitive surfing agent Reggie Belafonte (James Woods) and a surfing chicken (voiced by Jon Heder). Cody’s surfing hero, Big Z (Jeff Bridges in chilled dude Big Lebowski mode), is presumed dead but turns up a burned-out recluse. He reluctantly agrees to train Cody so he stands a chance against the mean-spirited champion, Tank Evans (Dietrich Bader). In the process of learning to surf, Cody discovers that having friends and enjoying life is more important than winning.

In fact, the moral of the story is almost exactly the same as Cars. It’s obvious, but not preachy and the documentary style gives the film a cynical edge that ensures the sentiment never gets too sickly or preachy. Although directors Ash Brannon and Chris Buck are not out to raise the animation ante, the renderings are more than up to scratch – especially in the flashback sequences where scratches and faded colours have been deliberately added to make the footage look old, and the exciting “surf tunnel” shots, all scored to some well-used pop songs. The cast contribute fine vocal performances, and although the story is predictable, it’s certainly an enjoyable way to spend 85 minutes. The jokes are sophisticated, and this is more likely to appeal to adults than children. Those expecting another Happy Feet will be disappointed (the film even has an amusing dig at that film, laughing off the prospect of singing dancing penguins), but although this flopped at the US box office, there is enough evidence here to suggest cinema’s love affair with penguins has not yet run its course.

Simon Dillon, August 2007.

High School Musical - (3 stars) this is an absolute phenomenon with the kids, and I was desperate to find out why I was teaching teenagers who knew all the lyrics and dances inside and out. The answer is - Disney knows its market! A light tale about two misfits (pretty ones, of course) coming together through singing and dancing, and bringing everyone along with them through, you know, “being themselves” (what else in a Disney movie?). It’s fun enough, with some very good musical set-pieces (’Get your head in the game’ being my favourite), and if you’re below the age of 15 (and probably more for the girls), perfect, harmless entertainment.

Enron - The Smartest Guys in the Room - (3 stars) Greed, greed, greed. That’s what brought Enron down, and it’s so clear from this film. This documentary goes back over some of the key players in the Enron scandal, what they got up to and why, and is pretty interesting. There are parts that engage a lot more than others, such as listening to the recordings of Enron employees laughing at the misfortunes of the inhabitants of the West Coast of the US - absolutely repulsive, and a very effective piece of documentary film-making. Less manipulative than Michael Moore, and possibly for that reason less consistently engaging.

An Inconvenient Truth - (4 stars) Al Gore shows you his power-point presentation on the environment and climate change and forces you to think and act. As a family we are already quite enthusiastic about living ethically, doing our bit to look after the world that God made and so on, and this film just confirms that everyone needs to be doing this! The bit that kids at school apparently responded to was polar bears drowning in their own local environment due to melting ice caps; there are so many shocking facts, stats and images here that it seems unlikely that one could watch this movie and not try to do more for the environment. It’s not a perfect film - some of the inserts about Gore himself add very little - but it’s the most accessible education on global warming that you could get in under 2 hours. Oh, and the major worry about Gore creating a massive carbon footprint by going round the world showing his presentation is answered in the trivia section here.

The Wolf Man - (3 stars) Universal horror, detailing the werewolf myth, linking it to gypsy curses and including all the well-known moon-related tales. Lon Chaney plays the man under the make-up, which is brilliant, and the lighting and mood of the piece is suitably dark, but the film-making style always detracts from actual scariness in these films.

Right At Your Door - (3 stars) A dirty bomb is released in LA. Man gets home just in time, wife arrives back some time later to find herself locked out by him as the radio has advised everybody to keep doors and windows shut and not let anyone in or out. A tense period follows as both parties try to work out what to do and how they might get help in a terror situation. A good premise for a movie, with a nice thorny moral question at the centre, but the movie slows considerably in the middle and doesn’t quite have the courage of its convictions. A fair amount of swearing.

First, a note to parents: if your children are expressing an interest in seeing this film, I would strongly recommend checking it out yourself first. Bridge to Terabithia is suitable for family audiences, but there are two reasons it would be good to be prepared. First, the marketing is misleading. Although this film appears to be another children’s fantasy, in fact it is something quite different. Secondly, and more importantly, an unexpected turn in the latter stages of the film may prove too much for the certain temperaments and cause parents to have to answer some awkward questions (as I left the cinema I saw at least one rather traumatised child in the audience whose parents had obviously been expecting something like The Never Ending Story).

Bridge to Terabithia is an adaptation of the popular US children’s book by Katherine Paterson from the 1970’s. I haven’t read it, but although this film version has been updated to the present day, it still feels as though its set in a pre-iPod age – a bygone era (which some of us still remember) when children were allowed to play outside and climb trees because parents weren’t paranoid about health and safety or paedophiles.

Eleven year old Jesse Aarons is the middle child in a family of six. Their parents are struggling to make ends meet, and he feels estranged from his world-weary father. At school he is good at art, but has to deal with bullies and a crush on his music teacher. Most humiliatingly of all, he wants to be a runner, but Leslie, the new girl in his class, beats him in a race.

However, Leslie is a free-spirited and highly imaginative girl who soon befriends Jesse and inspires him to stand up to the bullies. She also encourages him to pursue his artwork and during their games in the woods, they imagine the world of Terabithia – an enchanted kingdom filled with giants, armies mounted on dragonflies, armoured squirrels and a Dark Master, who has stolen the crown from the rightful rulers.

The various events in Terabithia are (presumably) intended to be allegorical of what is happening in Jesse’s life, and for the most part, the film succeeds in being a delightful children’s fantasy. The characters are engaging, and the performances are all very good. Josh Hutcherson and especially AnnaSophia Robb are excellent as Jesse and Leslie respectively. Solid support is provided by Robert Patrick (the T-1000 from Terminator 2) playing Jesse’s father, and as Jesse’s little sister May, Bailee Madison reminded me of the young Drew Barrymore in ET (I can’t think of a higher compliment).

However, just before the end, events take a sudden and tragic turn, and at this point, I suggest that if you intend to see the film, to do so then return to this review, as I cannot discuss the story any further without spoiling the end to some degree.

The death of a major character causes the film to have a somewhat uneven feel, and frankly, I wasn’t sure whether Bridge to Terabithia had earned the right to tackle such a difficult issue. I understand the novel was originally conceived as a fable to help children overcome the death of a loved one, but although director Gabor Csupo has crafted an atmospheric and likable picture, it didn’t feel as though enough momentum had been built for such a hefty dramatic turn. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for tackling difficult subjects in children’s stories, but death has been dealt with far more effectively in other works – Bambi, A Series of Unfortunate Events, and the Harry Potter series for instance.

On the plus side, there are many positive references to Christianity, including to God and Jesus. And whilst a theological debate on whether or not God “damns people to hell” might prove a thorny knot to unpick with one’s children, it is refreshing to see child characters who say things like “the whole Jesus thing is so cool” with such conviction. And there are many other redemptive elements. Eventually, Jesse’s father is the one who is able to comfort Jesse and reassure him that the dead character is safe in God’s hands.

In short, this is a surprisingly brave and worthwhile children’s film, but one that ultimately bites off more than it can chew. It’s well worth a look, but don’t expect the masterpiece many critics are claiming it to be.

Simon Dillon, May 2007.