I_Ailurophile

Once again I find myself watching a modern piece of Disney animation that I missed out when it was released, and once again I am immediately impressed, and remiss that I never saw it until now. Within minutes this shows itself to be incredibly clever, and it's readily evident how much immense intelligence, hard work, and care went into 'Wreck-It Ralph.' It's certainly true in some measure that this relies on a sense of nostalgia, but that kind of comes with the territory when we're speaking of videogames both retro and modern, with loads of references woven in among original characters and settings. I quite assumed I'd enjoy this, but it's way better than I could have hoped. 'Wreck-It Ralph' is an absolute blast!

There's so much to love here that it's difficult to even concisely summarize. There are the smart sound effects that instantly evoke videogames (chiefly but not exclusively the essential 8-bit era), and the outstanding, flavorful score and soundtrack from a who's who list of contributors, covering a smart, wide range of vibes and genres but also deftly complementing the proceedings. There are the unlikely inclusions from and varied sly references to many real videogames, game culture, and arcades; there's the ingenious way that the characters of the arcade games herein inhabit their own universes and a shared universe, coyly playing with the film's sense of reality as arcade and electrical hardware become a hub whereby all can interact. The character designs are pretty slick, and the environments that the flick takes us through over the course of 100 minutes are wonderfully imaginative. And this is to say nothing of the tremendous voice cast: John C. Reilly, wrecking our hearts as he does so well as an ostracized nobody; Jane Lynch, portraying the type of character I never knew she was born to be; Sarah Silverman, almost stealing the show with a superb kid's voice; and many more, including not least VA superstar Alan Tudyk with a characteristically delightful performance as King Candy.

Meanwhile, we could say that filmmaker Rich Moore, and co-writers Phil Johnston and Jim Reardon, crafted a story that treads familiar territory as a perpetual loser aspires to greatness, and walks a long and difficult path to get there. The details of that broad tableau are truly phenomenal, however, with revelations about an antagonist being even sharper than I had fathomed, and the screenplay shaped by Johnston and Jennifer Lee cements the brilliance of the underlying concept. The characterizations are more vibrant and worthwhile on their own merits than the tried and true root narrative, and the characters' respective settings, may outwardly suggest; the scene writing is utterly tremendous as the plot is rounded out with rich, diverse ideas and dances across different genres - not just fantasy, and a spectrum of comedy and drama, but touches of action, adventure, and even science fiction and horror. That's still not all, though, as I am totally chuffed by how bright the dialogue in this instance. There's a level of wit coming across in the dialogue, as much as in any other part of the screenplay, that in my opinion handily surpasses what a lot of other movies have ever had to offer, to the point that even tidbits that are genuinely childish are unquestionably more shrewd than they have any right to be.

And between the wondrous vision of director Moore, and the impeccable animation of the artists at Disney - well, is there really anything to possibly criticize here? In fairness, there are some elements of the humor that arguably merit scrutiny in terms of what young kids might pick up on. Maybe I'm too cynical for my own good, but I speak to passing instances of physical abuse, self-harm, fatphobia, and bullying, to say nothing of smidgens of prejudice that are touched upon in the themes. Part of me is also a little doubtful about the overarching notion of "learn to be happy with your lot in life," only one small part of the whole as it may be. Then again, given all the other thoughts that this feature toys with, and all the otherwise high quality it boasts, maybe I'm being too harsh. After all, there are couple scenes in here that hit way harder than I ever supposed, demonstrating that on top of all the fanciful entertainment 'Wreck-It Ralph' can also claim a huge heart. And no matter how much one may be inclined to him and haw about this or that, when all is said and done the sum total is such a treasure that I again find myself aghast that I've only now sat to watch it. Personal preferences will vary, naturally, yet in a modern cinematic landscape filled with empty spectacle and cheap crowd-pleasers, I could hardly be happier that this 2012 title really does deserve all the high esteem it has earned. For my part I altogether love 'Wreck-It Ralph,' and I'm glad to give it my high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation!

I recall well when this came out, for there was always a certain yearning to see a depiction of the 'Toy Story' characters in the respective fictional universes (where applicable) from which the toys derived. I also well recall the immediate response from both audiences and critics, which was rather lukewarm generally, and which seemed particularly harsh with regards to the choice of having someone other than Tim Allen voice the titular hero. It's true that not all of Pixar's works are equal, but is 'Lightyear' really one of the titan's lesser pieces? In all earnestness, I don't think that it is, at least not in any meaningful way. This does have some issues that merit criticism, but none so severe as to significantly diminish its lasting value. For my money this is a very fun sci-fi adventure, and it's well worth checking out.

One must immediately divest themselves of any notion that this 2022 release is, specifically, a 'Toy story' picture, for the tone is more sober if not altogether darker (by Pixar standards), and just as much to the point, the artists make use of an animation style that aims to be far more realistic, and less cartoonish. There are many shots and scenes that more closely recall the near-realism of 'Final Fantasy: The spirits within,' or the effects-laden whimsy of otherwise live-action genre fare like Christopher Nolan's 'Interstellar' or classic 'Star wars' nostalgia, and only the character designs specifically ground the proceedings in the wider tapestry of modern family-friendly 3D animation. The intentions of filmmaker Angus MacLane and his writing team are also quite clear, for though the narrative, scenes, visual designs, and character concepts are original, and worthy on their own merits, they unabashedly take cues from myriad prior works of science fiction. I don't think this is a fault, mind you, but I can understand how the incidence may stick out for others.

With the latter sentiment in mind, personally I also don't at all mind that Chris Evans was cast to voice this iteration of Buzz over Allen. The switch may be jarring for utmost fans of 'Toy story,' but I very much understand the reasoning as this very specifically a different interpretation of the space ranger. Where I think the feature does face some difficulty, in one measure or another, is in the mixture of moods, ideas, and themes that it presents us with. There are touches of humor both clever and simply silly which really do earn laughs, and there are also heavily dramatic notions that are half a heartbeat away from turning 'Lightyear' into a more gravely solemn film - while some beats tread so ponderously into characters' emotional turmoil that the whole threatens to get bogged down. The broad sci-fi fancy is a total blast, let alone the action sequences, though there are also tidbits that kind of feel like cheap crowd-pleasing spectacle. All of this is essential to what 'Lightyear' is, but it's a delicate balance to strike, and I don't necessarily believe that the sum total perfectly sticks the landing.

Be that as it may, there is so much to love in these 105 minutes, whether the flick is looking to thrill, entertain, or inspire. Sox seems primed to be a tawdry gimmick, for example, yet smartly treads the line between comedic relief, valuable companion, and a cat lover's robotic dream. The characterization of Buzz, even more than others here, similarly bridges the gaps between all that the movie seeks to encompass: the self-narration is funny while also serving useful purpose as narrative exposition and revealing Buzz's inner thoughts; he finds his perspective and outlook challenged in profound ways, but also has a hard time letting go of certain aspects of his training and personality (as seen in his interactions with Darby). Welcome sincere themes are explored while laying out an exciting futuristic tale of exploration, danger, failure, risk-taking, personal growth, triumph, and learning what really matters. From conception, including even the realistic diversity seen among characters, to execution under MacLane's direction, I count this as a success far, far more than not.

All this is to say nothing of the excellent voice acting, or Michael Giacchino's superb original music. The animators of Disney and Pixar turned in the exceptional work we expect of them, including terrific detail and immense care for lighting, texture, and effects. Truly, far and away this title is so very highly enjoyable, and in hindsight I'm kind of taken aback that it wasn't received better. It's not completely unassailable, perhaps, but I don't think there's any matter here so critical as to even really be called a "flaw." I sat to watch with somewhat mixed expectations based on the word of mouth I had gathered, and for my part I'm so incredibly pleased with just how much of a good time 'Lightyear' is. It won't appeal equally to all comers, yet whether one has a special impetus to watch or is just looking for something relatively light to whittle away an afternoon, I'm happy to give 'Lightyear' my warm recommendation!

'El Mariachi' was extremely low-budget but smartly made and very fun, a neo-western, neo-noir blast of action and cheeky comedy. Happily, Robert Rodriguez rather upped his game with sequel 'Desperado,' making use of greater experience and a far, far larger budget to refine the blend of flavors that made his directorial debut so delightful. Could he do it again, though? Given several more years, further progression in his career, and even more resources at his disposal, could Rodriguez replicate or build upon these prior successes? One is quickly made to wonder, and doubt, as even within the first fraction of the runtime the opening scene feels imitative and needlessly overdone, the extra star-studded cast feels excessive (with some actors returning from the previous entry as new characters), the character writing is immediately less than convincing (I'm looking at you, Sheldon Sands, but definitely not you alone), and dialogue from which we anticipate sly humor feels forced and hackneyed. By the time we're only seventeen minutes in and some plot has been laid out, one can in some measure appreciate the cynicism and convolution that presents while also believing that Rodriguez may already be overcooking his creation.

Unfortunately, while 'Once upon a time in Mexico' isn't outright rotten, the simple fact of the matter is that it also massively pales in comparison to its forebears. I recognize how this aims to draw upon the same wellspring from which the 1995 flick drunk so deeply with a mix of genres and vibes, touches of comedy, sharp flourishes of music, an unmistakable sense of style, and wildly over the top stunts, effects, and action sequences. Yet the writing comes across as dubiously overwrought and self-indulgent (think 'Machete kills,' but ostensibly more earnest), and there is no meaningful subtlety or dynamics in much of anything here, least of all in Rodriguez's direction. Oh yes, some scenes are quieter than others; some are filmed in dim light, and some in daylight; some are defined by violence, and others by dialogue. Yet whatever the precise content of a given scene, whether the filmmaker is aiming to be Slick And Cool, or Witty And Wry, or Far Out And Extravagant, this movie's proverbial amplifier is never operating at any less than a 9. Under these circumstances, the less present, would-be humor of much too variable quality struggles to ever make its mark; bits of action that should be thrilling and entertaining make little impression; the character writing feels pointless and especially empty - and one just really can't be bothered with the plot that tries way too hard.

I understand that Rodriguez apparently had particular thoughts in mind of what he was trying to do with this feature. I don't buy his explanation, however; it doesn't hold any water in my opinion. A key strength of 'El Mariachi' and 'Desperado' was the clear, concise narrative writing, freely dressed up as it may have been with liberal administration of all possible frivolities. 'Once upon a time in Mexico' isn't a puzzle on paper, but it pretty much becomes one in execution as the story gets carelessly jumbled. It's anything except clear and concise, moreover pointedly eschewing the focus and vision that would have allowed it thrive. With a glut of flimsy characters and questionable story threads and ideas, ultimately serving to majorly sideline the erstwhile protagonist, and a seeming constant ethos of "GO! GO! GO!" - well, in no time at all this becomes one of those titles that we can "watch" without actively engaging. Frankly, I think it's tiresome more than it is enjoyable; what value it has to offer just isn't significant enough to warrant much attention. Even as Antonio Banderas' guitarist gunslinger is on a quest for revenge, it's hard as a viewer to care about what we're presented with. That should be the last thing one should ever say about a piece whipping together violent action and glimmers of comedy amidst a massive cast, an intended ambitious plot, and above all a follow-up to two previous tremendous successes, but here we are.

No, this film isn't outright rotten, and I'm glad for those who get more out of it than I do. For my part, though, I was "over it" long, long before it was over. The gaps of style and creative choices that existed between 'El Mariachi' and 'Desperado' were easily filled in by suspension of disbelief; the astronomical, overcharged leap from those antecedents to this is entirely too much to succinctly elucidate. There were good, worthwhile ideas in these 100-odd minutes, and I fervently wish only that Rodriguez had exercised any self-restraint at all. If he had, I would be writing very different words right now. I suppose if one has a special impetus to watch it's still true that there are worse ways to spend one's time - but I'm sadly unable to muster any enthusiasm for 'Once upon a time in Mexico,' and in all honesty, I don't think it has done enough to earn a recommendation. Check it out if you want, but in my mind this is a regrettable, huge step backwards, and a limp end for what had been a terrific series. And maybe even that is being too kind.