Moana

Moana (Ron Clements, John Musker, Don Hall, Chris Williams, 2016) I missed this in the theater, and I will regret that until I have the opportunity to rectify it (which is certainly on my list of things to do). Given the evidence on the inadequate video screen on which I saw this, Moana deserves, even begs, to be seen as big as it can in order to truly appreciate the beauty of the thing and to wonder at the details of it and to be whacked upside the eyeballs with its color palette.

Why the reluctance? I'd say "Frozen burn-out" (a variation of "Freezer Burn") even though I truly enjoyed that movie and thought it did a lot of good in rectifying some inherent issues with the fabled "Princess Movie." "Been there/Done That/Let it Go." Bad mistake. Because Moana does a lot of interesting story-telling things (like bridging the gap between fairy-tale, folk-tale and myth) and expanding the magical realm to take on broader themes than just personal satisfaction—all those "I Want" songs!—and taking up the theme of stewardship and responsibility. This is Disney (under John Lasseter's mentorship), but cousin Pixar Studios was putting its toe into that same ocean with its short, "Lava," released in 2014.

One may assume they were checking each other's work. Moana challenges and occasionally tops the photo-realism that was being attempted in "Lava," but pops with more detail and texture. One can argue the efficacy of making everything picture-postcard-perfect,* but one can't be anything but amazed at such imagery in motion. CGI can make magic realistic, but it very rarely makes it the visual poetry that Moana accomplishes.

The story starts a bit traditionally mixing the "Princess" mythology with "The Hero's Quest." We get a preamble of "what went wrong" when the shape-shifting (and vain-glorious) demi-god Maui (voiced eventually by Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson) sought to possess the pounumo stone, the heart of the mother island Te Fiti, with which she could create life from the oceans. Attaining the stone, Te Fiti collapses and Maui is attacked by the volcano-demon Te-Ka, who knocks him out of the sky, breaking his magical fish-hook and sending the stone into the depths of the sea. Legend has it that powerful forces still search for the stone that might still restore Te Fiti before the dark times befall the islands, unless a chosen warrior can find the heart, and travel past the island's reef, and convince Maui to restore the stone to its rightful place.

Cue Moana, who, if we're to believe the opening has been chosen by the sea to be that warrior, even if her parents, Chief Tui (Temuera Morrison) and Sina (Nicole Scherzinger), choose to ignore the signs and insist the their daughter stay at home and learn how to be the next chief. They're also ignoring the signs of blight on the island, ruining the crops and shrinking the fish-catches. Moana's already thinking ahead, arguing with her father to take their nets beyond the reef, and is determined to show him she's right by taking a skiff out herself, only to to be scuttled, her boat destroyed and her nearly drowning in the attempt. Her parents forbid her from ever taking another boat out into the ocean again. What's the Ma'ori word for "grounded?"

But, Moana's grandmother Tala (the amazing Rachel House) doesn't discourage her. She tells Moana the story of Maui and Te Fiti and leads her to a cave that houses the boats that originally brought her people to the island and how the demi-god's actions caused the oceans to turn against her people and never again leave the island. She gives her the "heart" stone and points to a hook in the stars, telling Moana to follow them to find Maui. Moana goes back to the cavern and takes one of the boats and heads out to sea to accomplish the task of saving the island and her people.

After a terrifying journey, guided by the spirit of her grandmother, Moana's craft capsizes in a storm and she and the craft are washed ashore on the island. But, hook drawings on the rocks assure her that she has actually reached the island where Maui, having lost the hook that allows him to shape-shift, has been stranded for a thousand years. Maui, understandably, is glad to see her—she has a boat; he can get off the island. Moana tells her of her plan but he won't have any of it; he's a demi-god, after all, and he's used to doing what he wants to do, and not taking orders from natives. Praying to him might help, but being out of activity for so long he's more than likely to ignore her.

Much bickering, much attitude. Moana thinks he's a jerk; he thinks she's ungrateful. Finally, he just takes her boat and leaves her stuck in a cave while he sails off. But, he's just a demi-god, and Moana has a powerful ally in the ocean, which is only too happy to deposit Moana back on the boat no matter how hard Maui can throw her off of it. He tries to throw the heart away. The ocean throws it back. He jumps overboard and starts swimming. Not for long before he's thrown back onto the boat. He's fighting a losing battle and he, understandably, does want to take on another one, liking returning the heart back to its source and confronting Ta Ka.

Despite it being a Disney movie, the course of those never run smoothly, and, besides the two sailors wanting to go in different directions, they have to deal with Kakamora pirates, regaining Maui's hook from a monster crustacean named Tamatoa (Jemaine Clement), and then, and only then, with Maui's powers intact, maybe taking on Te Ka, so that Moana can return the heart to Te Fiti—if it were only that easy. Oh, yeah, and there's a crazy chicken that keeps getting in the way. What would a Disney princess by without a "familiar?"

The songs are less traditional, more snappy with more patter, more rhythm and less melody, as they're crafted by Lin-Manuel Miranda, and, although the film is free of Broadway/Vegas showstoppers, they bounce along, don't outwear their welcome, and never impede the narrative. The animation department also compensates by ramping up the speed during those moments. The film never drags, although there are times the visuals are so gorgeous that you want to hang just a little bit longer.

It's also a solid story, combining folklore, anthropology, sociology, ecology, and fairy tale and myth. Tall order for a cartoon. Everything is hitting all cylinders and a joke never falls flat. Nor did the animation skimp on the scenery for the characters and vice versa. Vistas are photo-realistic (or better), and the expressions are rubbery and recognizable as human beings'. 

It all works amazingly well, enchanting entertainment for young and old alike. It's just that I wish I could have seen it on a big screen where all the amazing handiwork could be appreciated in all its glory. We'll make it a life-goal.

*

Big Hero 6

Anime-zing
or
"This...Is What I've Been Working On"

Animation has come a long way since Winsor McKay first made Gertie the Dinosaur dance. From crude (if meticulous) key-animation to today's computer animation, it is still quite noticeable when somebody does something a little bit more innovative than what one is used to. Toy Story took computer imagery out of the clunky stage to give it grace, Ratatouille started to take things into the realm of photo-realism, Tangled took traditional Disney animation and gave it depth, which only advanced further with Frozen. Now, here comes Big Hero 6 (only somewhat related to the Marvel source), which advances things even further, while taking things in a slightly tangential tack in style.  

And, thematically, the way Disney has been doing lately, it manages to break away from the tropes of the genre and move in a fresh direction.

It is the future in the blended city of San Fransokyo (you can immediately tell the cross-culturalism when the Golden Gate Bridge has some decidedly pagoda-like stylings). Young Hiro Hamada (Ryan Potter) is a genius 14 year old engineer, who hasn't really applied himself except in the underground world of "bot-fights," where he wins wads of cash with his deceptively simple, unassuming little gadget that becomes a Tazmanian devil in the ring.

His hustling gets him in trouble with local toughs, but he is rescued by his older brother (Daniel Henney)—also an engineering genius—and encouraged for the umpteenth time, not to waste his life hustling, but become study and use his talents where they can do the most good—a quick stop at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology on the way to the next bot-fight lights the spark in him, and he begins to apply himself to the Next Great Idea that will gain him entry into the Institute.

What he comes up with is a lulu, a swarm of micro-bots that, with a neural transmitter, can be controlled by its human host to become...nearly anything. His presentation at the institute attracts the attention of the school's legendary Dr. Callaghan (James Cromwell) and the corporate kingpin Allistair Krei (Alan Tudyk), both of whom want Hiro's technology; Hiro decides not to sell his tech and his presentation wins him a scholarship.

But, things do not go well that night. The presentation hall where the competition is held erupts in flames and Dr. Callaghan is trapped inside. Hiro's brother Tadashi rushes in to save his mentor and the whole place explodes. There could be no survivors. Hiro is despondent over the loss of his brother, and foregoes his college plans, despite the encouragement of Tadashi's friends and colleagues. His only comfort is the Baymax (voiced by "30 Rock's" Scott Adsit), the "healthcare companion" that Tadashi was perfecting at the time of his death. Baymax is a big inflatable medical scanner that can diagnose, prescribe and comfort the sick.   Hiro, not being in the best of shape, accidentally activates him and the two discover that one of Hiro's micro-bots has survived the explosion at the presentation center...and appears to be trying to respond to commands.

But, from whom?

Baymax and Hiro set out to find out where the tiny micro-bot is attracted to and find an abandoned warehouse, with tones of Hiro's micro-bots in stasis. They also find a Kabuki-masked stranger controlling them. Both are set upon by the controlled micro-bots and only barely manage to escape, with the help of Tadashi's fellow students. The group decides to get to the bottom of all this and form a team with their tech-gadgets to try and find "Mr. Kabuki" and bring him to justice...as Big Hero 6, each of Tadashi's friends taking on a persona and "power" that matches their personality and research path.

Not the most promising of scenarios. Two things struck me about Big Hero 6, though, that took it out of the norm of most animation and superhero stories. Number one, the animation. It is of the Disney 2-D school (the directors worked on The Emperor's New Groove, Bolt and The Princess and the Frog) that has been plumped into three dimensions the way the studio's been doing it since Tangled.  But, there's more of an emphasis on detail and shading than has been done in the past—San Fransokyo is bathed in diffused light from a combination of fog and neon. And there's no Uncanny Valley near this Silicon Valley.  The characters are clearly cartoonish and caricature, but the shading and play of light across the faces and expressions suggest a musculature that could not be found in your standard artist's maquette. That awareness comes early on with the expressions of the participants in the bot-fight sequence, and after, one just becomes used to it, noting when something is noticeably tactile looking. I've missed an animated feature or two (like the Madagascar's and Box-Trolls), but this was the first time I got a sense of depth and musculature in the faces. It's definitely a step up.

On the well-trudged superhero front, the story is interesting. It sets up the by-now required de rigeuer "revenge/eye-for-an-eye" scenario that dominates the entire sub-genre of superhero movies (born out of the more commonplace action film), but—and this might have come with the influence of Disney exec/former Pixar head John Lasseter—that "avenging" storyline is subverted to the point where the "taking revenge" impetus is both undermined and rendered moot (as being indistinguishable from the villains' motivations). It is odd that the "superhero" story has become so enmeshed in this singular through-line of story (to the point where even the most altruistic of the "meta-heroes" must be shoe-horned into the "you shall be revenged" Bat-school) when the history of the comics have been rife with different origins. Big Hero 6 breaks the mold and even questions its legitimacy.

And that, for one, makes it seem all the more fresh...and heroic.

Big Hero 6 is accompanied by a short cartoon, Feast, that pushes the way narrative is told in a purely visual way.  Definitely worth checking out.