Onward

The Real Hero's Quest
or
"Only Once Is All We Get..."

"Long ago, the world was full of Wonder. It was adventurous, it was exciting, and best of all, there was magic. And that magic helped all those in need. But, it wasn't easy to master. So, the world found an easier way to get by. Over time, magic faded away."

Ian Lightfoot (voiced by Tom Holland) is an elf, with a lot changing in his life: he's turning 16, about to enter high school, and he's scared of everything. His Mom (voiced by Julia Louis-Dreyfuss) has a new boyfriend (who's a policeman...and a centaur, but let's not be specist), his older brother Barley (voiced by Chris Pratt) is a lout, obsessed with with RPG's, especially quest-themed games based on the past, and there's a lot he doesn't like about his life right now, wondering if he had the guidance of his father—who died before he was born—that he wouldn't be so unsure of himself.

But, with a change in schooling comes an opportunity for change of self. Ian makes himself a list of things he wants to do: speak up more; learn to drive; invite people to his birthday party; "be more like Dad." Each item has an empty box next to it that he'll check off when accomplished...at the end of his first day, all of those boxes are empty.

Life in New Mushroomtown

So, it's not the best of birthdays, until after he survives the ignomy of brother Barley picking him up from school in front of potential friends (who invites—and then dis-invites to his birthday party). Mom reveals that Barley and Ian's Dad has bequeathed a boon to the boys when both of them have reached the age of 16. It is a wizard's staff ("I KNEW it! Dad was a wizard!" "No, he was an accountant...") with a parchment written with the very words that start the movie (and this post).

In Onward*, the world was one of wizards and magic. But science and technology took over. You know longer needed an enchanting mage to provide light, once electricity was channeled and utilized, infrastructures built, grids connected, roads built, cars invented and mass-merchandised. As it was said, the world found easier ways and magic in the every-day faded, replaced by industrial wonders and suburbs and highways and gas stations and fast-food restaurants. The world became democratized and needs fulfilled. Oh, there are still elves and centaurs and manticores and sprites and unicorns (knocking over garbage cans and eating the best bits), but society is more about convenience and getting through the 9 to 5.

Oh. And dragons. Pet dragons. If they're troublesome, squirt 'em with a water bottle (especially the fire-breathing ones!).

So, for these suburban elflings to get a magic staff, well, that's amazing! Especially for Barley, who's into that sort of thing. And there's another thing in the parcel—a Phoenix Gem. Dad's gift is a means to conjuring himself up for 24 hours (and 24 hours only) to spend it with his sons—handy to spend as little time in the troublesome teen years and to completely avoid diaper-duty. Not handy to be dead, though.

Ian and Barley attempt to magick up Dad, but fail. But, when Ian—who has the greater need (never having seen his father)—tries, he has more success to a certain degree. It being his first spell-attempt, there's some wasted energy (teens!) and the Phoenix Gem empties and dissipates, with only half-a-Dad showing up from the waist down ("I definitely remember Dad had a top part!")—the rest just being an expectant shimmer-layer of pixie-pixels. This is an issue, especially if you're expecting any meaningful conversation beyond foot-taps. 

So, that's the set-up of the story; the rest of the movie is a hero's quest for another Phoenix Gem to complete the spell...and Dad...before the 24 hours is up in order to have quality time with a Dad who's more than only part-way there. Simple goal: check. Limited amount of time to do it in: check. Complications, of course, ensue, and, of course, important life lessons are learned along the way. But, being this is a Pixar film, there is an emotional heart to the film beyond what we've come to expect from animated films from other digitizers. Goals may be achieved on the surface, but they are not as important as those achieved, unseen, in the heart. Audience tears may drop.

That's where Pixar excels—in the subtext (although, the subtext is a little more obvious in this one than in the absolute best of the studio's films). Onward is an ingenious blending of RPG games and real world in the ingeniously constructed and exquisitely rendered tradition that we've come to expect out of the Uncanny Valley in Emeryville. Sure, it's in a fantasy world, but there are moments where you would swear that something was filmed rather than rendered, and, beyond the RPG setting, director Dan Scanlon—this is a Giant's sized step up from his work in Monsters University—manages to squeeze in other "quest" touch-stones that might be recognized (there is an ingeniously updated reference to the opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark that has a hilarious capper).

Ultimately, what goes unspoken is the trope that it's not the goal rather than the journey itself, but it does it in such a subtle and smart way that one could be excused for not recognizing it as such, and in a way that might (just "might") frustrate those who are looking for connect-the-dots movie-making. Pixar is better than that, and the results are sublime and well-earned. Lesson learned. 

It is not Pixar's best—I just had to rank the Pixar features for The Large Association of Movie Blogs and I would say Onward is solidly in the top third of their output (I still think Ratatouille is the best one they've ever done from a depth perspective, but your results may vary), and one awaits breathlessly for their new one—Soul—in June of this year.

* Onward is not accompanied by a Pixar short, but one of the newly-acquired 20th Century Fox properties—The Simpson's—entitled "Play-Date with Destiny," featuring the non-verbal Maggie Simpson. One may be horrified that the anarchic Simpsons play in front of a Pixar movie, but this one is very clever—the more adult jokes are only written out to be read, so there's nothing that might "weird-out" the kindergartners. The makers of The Simpsons are an ingenious lot.