Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget

Another Plot to Hatch

or

Can They Pullet Off?

It's been 23 years since Chicken Run, the splendid little film that used the basics of The Great Escape in a tale of a flock of chickens penned at the Tweedy Farm, who decide to escape the fate of being the main ingredient in pot pies, decide not to be a brood about it and flock off in a mass eggs-odus. It was funny, clever and—as in the style of its studio, Aardman Animations—up to its beak in fine details, rendered one frame at a time through stop-motion animation.

 

It's a laborious process, that, despite the work-load, never looked rushed, and, if anything, the animators only made things harder for themselves by having all sorts of activity—seemingly going to each frame's event horizon—to keep track of before moving on to the next 24th of a second. Aardman has been doing this for 34 years, since the creation of their first short film, the Oscar-winning Creature Comforts. Their last film before this was 2018's Early Man, which, while still being clever and all, seemed to have a slight dip in overall quality of the production. The story was just a little off, even if the aanimation remained aastounding.

So, what have the plucky chickens from Tweedy's been doing? Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget gives the answer. Like any good meta-sequel, there's been some reproducing. Rocky (voiced by Zachary Levi) and Ginger (Thandiwe Newton) welcome an egg to the family, the precocious Molly (Bella Ramsey), who has inherited her father's sense of adventure and her mother's rebellious, stubborn streak. She is doted on by the other ex-Tweedy's, but the parents have to admit Molly is one tough chick to handle.

Molly is curious about life off their community island, especially as there seems to be a lot of activity going on around what used to be the Tweedy Farm. But, Ginger discourages this, even as she's coping with her own PTSD about the escape from the previous film and the past treachery of Mrs. Tweedy (Miranda Richardson). But, Molly can't be repressed and one night she makes her way to the mainland to get an answer to her questions. This sends Ginger into a panic and she sets up a squad—a "wild bunch" if you will—to try to find Molly and get her back to the island and coop her up.

Molly has made progress of a sort; she's run into a contemporary chicken named Frizzle (Josie Sedgwick-Davies) who is on a trek to find a wonderful place she's heard about called "Fun-Land Farms" which appears to be a place where chickens can run free and enjoy life to the fullest. Their motto is "Where Chickens Find Their Happy Ending"—sounds...promising? And their logo has a happy chicken in a bucket giving two thumbs up. Hardly ominous at all, and Frizzle is determined to go there and get her own bucket.

Alright, synopsis over—no one wants spoiled Chicken—but one can guess that "Fun-Land Farms" is not what one expects—a more sinister version of how corporate theme parks disappoint. Complications ensue and Ginger's squad takes on an IMF resemblance to stop the evil overlords at "Fun-Land" and return home. It's much too soon for Rocky and Ginger to be empty-nesters.

I did a Lambcast this week where we discussed Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget and the consensus was that it was ("welllll...") good and all, but not as good as the first one (conceding, of course, that this one lacks the initial element of surprise), and I took umbrage at that. It may not be all the first one was, but it's damned good and is one of the better Aardman movies. Yes, they can do a clunker—I don't remember being quite as enthused with Early Man—and reading the review, the prevailing sentiment was "okay, it doesn't add up to much, but the work involved..." If it was absolutely for naught, all that sweat would have been a waste.

That sentiment roseates the edges of my feelings about this one, but I think the results are far more accomplished...and earned than that Early movie. There are so many details to be discovered—there are whole scenes that look like a "Where's Waldo?" panel with their own little individual stories going on that a re-watch is almost mandatory (it's almost a blessing that the thing is only available on Netflix making repeat viewings effortless). The comic timing is cracking-good, and there are technical pleasures...the eye-twitch of brain-washed chickens, the demo-reel that is so spot on it might have appeared on "Mad Men," the sheer delightful perils that the chickens are challenged with*...and there are moments of just random silliness that bubble-up the best of Aardman's movies. I spent the entire time watching it with a big smile on my face...when my brain wasn't shutting down with the surges of information that were coming off the screen.**

There was a slight disconnect with the character of Rocky—Zachary Levi's goofy self-confidence is a different tone than Mel Gibson's goofy self-confidence—but, for the most part, it all seems of a piece, and one should also state that Aardman has upped its game technically and artistically from the first film while still maintaining that trademark Aardman bubble-off-plumb sensibility.

One should never refuse a second helping of Chicken Run.

Wilhelm Alert at 00:34:34. 

 

* ...and the sets are magnificent. Ken Adam would be proud...or Disney.

 

** I may have talked about this before, but there have been moments sitting in a theater where the vast overwhelming output of a movie have made me fall asleep. It's not that I'm bored. It's not that I hadn't snoozed the night before. It's that the movie so overwhelms me that I...pass out. This happens with a lot of Terry Gilliam movies (Brazil, Baron von Munchausen, for example) and before I see one of his movies I coffee up so I don't miss anything.

 

I'm perfectly willing to admit that I might have a screw loose up there, given the ample evidence of my life.

The Crying Game

The Crying Game (Neil Jordan, 1992) "Who knows the secrets of the human heart?" 

It is my contention that this little "character" study, embedded within a terrorist thriller,  is one of "the" great love stories, as it deals, rather scrupulously, with "love" and doesn't stray into the sexual category.

Well, it does stray, but not too far from home.

Sure, the story surrounding the film is about "the secret," but that's just a device for setting up a story about the nature of love, and what this "crazy little thing" called love is, and why it holds such sway against our better judgments, even against—or even with—our natures, better or otherwise. And it does so in one of the better "traps" a film-maker has devised for its protagonist, worthy of a Hitchcock or a Kubrick. 

When first we meet Fergus (Stephen Rea), he's a flunky of a foot-soldier in a radical IRA organization. He's not well-respected in the group, so he gets the low-tier job of guarding over the British soldier kidnapped for political concessions. Fergus doesn't have the spine, the bite, the drive, the Cause-fueled socio-pathic energy of Maguire (Adrian Dunbar) or Jude (Miranda Richardson, as ferocious a femme-fatale as has been created for the screen). And he's just not asshole enough to be a terrorist. Better the job of care and feeding, rather than the tough meat of strategizing and negotiating...or terrorizing.

Three days of holding Jody (Forest Whitaker) hostage in Thatcher's non-negotiating Britain makes Fergus and the soldier form a Stockholm-ish bond. So, when demands are not met, when it comes time for Fergus to dispose of the evidence—kill the hostage Jody—he can't do it. He's spent too much time with him, become too sympathetic. Too empathetic. Fate, however, isn't so discriminating. And Fergus is left with the pact he's made with the fallen soldier.

That vow is to break the news of his death to Jody's true-love, Dil (Jaye Davidson), and, when the rest of the group disbands to go underground, Fergus, instead, travels to fulfill his pledge and, along the way, becomes smitten with the hair-dresser/chanteuse with Dil.

The rest of the movie details Fergus's struggle to stay underground and protect Dil from his vengeful mates. It gets complicated. Very complicated.

As the bartender played by Jim Broadbent says in the clip below "Takes all types. Who knows the secrets of the human heart?"

What's love got to do with it? Everything. Like Vertigo, The Crying Game brings into the open the question of what "love" really is. Fergus, and Vertigo's protagonist both share a name fragment as well as a vision of love that is their own, one that may have nothing to do with reality. But, it's real in some way. It has to do with responsibility and commitment and loyalty and all the things that go along with love and the bonds it ties you up in.

At two points in the screenplay, writer-director Neil Jordan uses the fable of the frog and the scorpion and the bond they form to cross a river. Orson Welles used it in his film Confidential Report (aka Mr. Arkadin) to explain the unexplainable. For Fergus, it's acknowledgement that he's learned something...if only about himself. "It's my Nature" is the last line of the fable.

Well, that's half-right. But, there are no absolutes. As with the old debate, one has to acknowledge that "Nurture" plays a hand as well.

It's been years since I've seen The Crying Game—I saw it in theaters very early on in its first-run before it "caught on" and became a subject of water-cooler whisperings and specific plot-points that—really—have nothing to do with the crux of the matter. And what the film says about "the secrets of the human heart."

Today is Valentine's Day. I hope it is happy for you whether you are with someone or alone. 

There will be more love stories of the movies next week.

"She's... She's On!" Dil (Jaye Davidson) performs—
a sequence seamlessly designed and directed by Neil Jordan,
realized only after you've seen it a second time.