Coco (4/5 Stars)

I wouldn’t know the first thing as to what “Coco”, Pixar’s latest venture, gets right and wrong about the beliefs around Dia de los Muertos, the Mexican holiday that centers around veneration of ancestors. All I can say is that, portrayed by Coco, it makes for an ingenious engine for plot. The conceit of “Coco”, and for Dia de los Mueros perhaps, is that upon death, people enter into a new life in a parallel dead realm (there is probably a better word for it than that). In the dead realm, life goes on as usual, except instead of class divisions based on wealth or rank, there are class divisions based on how well one is remembered in the Earth realm. Remembrance in the Earth realm can be both physical as well as mental. A dead person can be remembered by having their photograph placed on a family shrine or can simply exist within the mind of a family member. But if the photograph is not placed on the shrine or the last family member who remembers the dead soul dies or forgets, than the dead soul dies a second death in the alternate realm.

Miguel, voiced by Anthony Gonzalez, is a young boy with an interesting family history. His great great grandfather, a musician, became estranged by the family. His great great grandmother swore off music and forbid any of her descendants to remember the great great grandfather. As Miguel’s family celebrates this year’s Dia de los Muertos, the only family member to still remember the great great grandfather is Abuelita, Miguel’s great grandmother, who is very close to dying herself. Thus there is a ticking time clock here, for Miguel to figure out what needs to figure out, to essentially save the second life of his great great grandfather. I have to admit, this is a plot I have not seen before.

The idea that the memory of ancestors keeps them literally alive, albeit in a different place, should be inviting to everyone. The fact that this movie is also very specific about a particular culture presents to the audience something Pixar does extremely well. It is an original story with emotional underpinning that is instantly identifiable. “Coco” is not as funny as other Pixar movies, but it makes up for it by being especially touching. Who, of course, who would not melt a little to see a long lost relative come back to life? And the way Pixar tugs this particular heartstring, through the use of musical elements and cues that weave themselves through the story, is very effective.

All that is lefts is to admit, once again, that Pixar has made a visually striking movie. The Pixar style may seems at times to be a bit foreign to this culture. When I think of movie dominated by bones, I am reminded more of the stop-motion animated style of Tim Burton, but it is not too distracting. I don’t know what details of Dia de los Muertos is got right or wrong, but even there had not been such a culture and this movie was made up whole-cloth, it would have succeeded in making it interesting, important, and vibrant.

Pixar has a tradition of dual directors per film. “Coco” was directed by the Pixar veteran Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 2, Monster’s Inc., Finding Nemo, and Toy Story 3) and a Pixar new-comer Adrian Molina, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Matthew Aldrich. I expect it is to Molina’s credit that this story has the level of detail it commands and to Unkrich, the usual Pixar flair and competence.

Toy Story 3 (5/5 Stars) July 3, 2010

Pixar puts aside childish things. 

As Toy Story 3 opens, Andy is about to go to college. Now tall and mature, he rummages through his old toy box to see what he should take to college, put in the attic, donate, or throw away. He hasn’t played with Woody, Buzz, Rex, Slinky Dog, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Hamm, Jessie, Buckeye, the army men, and the aliens from pizza planet in a long time. At the same time he hasn’t found it in his heart to get rid of them. A home video shows him at the tender age of ten rehearsing imaginative escapades with the song, “You’ve got a Friend in me,” playing in the background. For anybody who has childhood relics gathering dust in a closet somewhere (my Sunday comics collection for instance) the scene will send a nostalgic chill up your spine. There are just some memories you can’t bear to throw away.

The toys in this story, for those who live in caves, can think and talk and only pretend to be inanimate objects when humans are around. They act a bit like you think toys might act. They take on the personalities given to them by the children that play with them and the actors who lend their voices. Ken in particular follows this pattern. He is technically a straight man but he is also a girl’s toy, so he may be in love with Barbie but his personality and size of his wardrobe tend toward the feminine. The rest of this most impressive cast is as follows: Woody, voiced by everyman Tom Hanks, is a sheriff and the leader of group. Buzz Lightyear, voiced Tim Allen, is a brave space ranger action figure. Mr. Potato Head takes on the personality of its voice, Don Rickles, the king of insult comedy. Mrs. Potato Head is voiced by Estelle Harris, who you may remember from Seinfeld as George’s mother. Hamm (aka the evil Dr. Porkchop), is a piggy bank voiced by enormously laid back John Ratzenberger, the mailman from Cheers. Jessie, a cow-girl, is voiced raucously by Joan Cusack. Rex, the dinosaur, is voiced with a wild sideways lisp by Wallace Shawn, the little evil genius in The Princess Bride. R. Lee Ermey the drill instructor from Full Metal Jacket provides the voice of the army men. Joining the cast are other voices like Bonnie Hunt (a ragdoll), Jeff Garlin from Curb Your Enthusiasm (as a unicorn named “Buttercup”), the very British Timothy Dalton (as Pricklepants a toy thespian who doesn’t like coming alive because he’s trying to stay in character), Ned Beatty who seems to be channeling the totalitarian sheriff in Cool Hand Luke (as Lotso-Hugs, a big purple plush bear), Kristen Schaal from Flight of the Conchords (as a web-savvy Triceratops), and Whoopi Goldberg (as an Octopus). Finally rounding out the cast of toys are Ken and Barbie, the aliens form Pizza Planet, a psychotic monkey with cymbals, a sad clown with a tragic tale to tell, a bunch of thug action figures, an army of monkeys in a barrel, and a big really creepy baby doll. Whew, I hope I didn’t leave anyone out…Wait! There’s a slinky dog. Don’t forget the slinky dog! 

The person in charge of juggling all of these characters and giving each and every one of them their own moments, jokes, and arc is none other than Michael Arndt, the Oscar Winning screenwriter of Little Miss Sunshine. He does a truly admirable job. The movie is funny throughout, mixing comedy that simultaneously plays to both kids and adults. The plot goes something like this: There is a mix-up and the toys end up in a day care named Sunnyside. It turns Sunnyside is run by the hateful Lotso who runs the thing like a totalitarian dictatorship. The new toys are left to fend for themselves amongst toddlers who like to play rough and use finger-paints, while the older toys keep the more mature kids for themselves. The toys have to band together, form a prison break and get back to Andy.

How they do all this allows the director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 2, Monsters Inc.) to present some Grade A action sequences. I mentioned in last week’s review that comedy/action sequences lends itself better to animation because there needs a great deal of control in order to achieve the continuity and timing needed for physical comedy. Well, watch the first scene where Mr. Potato Head hijacks a train and blows up a bridge but then Woody and Buzz save all the orphans but then evil Dr. Porkchop unleashes “Death by Monkeys,” and you will see what I mean. The explosion of the bridge is one of the best I’ve seen in a movie. I mean it is like super big. It’s a testament to what you can do when you can use computers to make the whole thing up and there’s no chance of stunt men getting hurt. The type of precision and creativity that Pixar uses in its action sequences is almost unparalleled in modern movies. The stakes are big, the fights are exciting, and you can always tell what is going on and how because Pixar uses long shots, wide angles, and applies the laws of physics. Hell, even the salsa dance that Buzz and Jessie do at the end is one of the best I’ve seen in a movie. Let’s see Antonio Banderas do that. 

The performances in this movie are powerful. In particular, Ned Beatty and Pixar have done an incredible job with Lotso. Never have I sensed such strong emotion in a cartoon. The clown who once knew him tells a sad story about a young girl who spent every moment of the day with Lotso. One day, the girl brought Lotso to a park, fell asleep, and was taken home by her parents who completely forgot to take Lotso along with them. A lost toy, Lotso somehow made it back, trudging through a thunderstorm, to the window of the girl’s home. He peered in the window and saw a replacement Lotso-Huggs bear sleeping in the bed with her. You can actually see the sense of betrayal in his face as his heart hardens. From then on, he is a toy without a soul. That huggable purple bear proves his is capable of some very bad things. Yes, Toy Story 3 is funny, heartwarming, and action-packed but it also happens to be the scariest movie Pixar has ever made. It is a very good question as to what would happen if a cartoon character was nominated for an Oscar. Who would get it: The voice actor, the animator, or both? I don’t know but the movies of Pixar are ripe for deserving such recognition. (You don’t believe me. YouTube the clip of Dory, voiced by Ellen Degeneres, in Finding Nemo trying to speak Whale. Try to tell me with a straight face that she doesn’t deserve some type of award.)

If Toy Story 3 doesn’t make you laugh as much as previous Pixar movies, it won’t because of any substantial lack of wit. What you are experiencing is what happens when a movie becomes too good to laugh at. A good example of this is Barbie’s line near the end of the movie. It is the climatic scene where the toys rise up against the evil Lotso. She speaks against Lotso’s tyranny and passionately declares, “Power in government should derive from the consent of the people!” Now this is funny for the obvious reason: Barbie is supposed to be a dumb blonde and here she is, to all the other toys’ surprise, saying something very smart. But you wouldn’t laugh too hard because it isn’t entirely obvious whether Pixar means for it to be a joke. You wouldn’t know that because the movie itself is a perfect allegory of the evils and abuses of a despotic regime and the ultimate moral superiority of democracy. I wouldn’t be surprised if North Korea or China banned this movie. It’s dangerous to assholes. But back to Barbie’s plea. Either you will find it funny or it will strike you as a profound statement of political science. Or it may strike you as both. The point is that it works all three ways. Such is the genius of Pixar. This movie is a perfect illustration of what is meant by “family entertainment.” It is the type of movie that will please every single member of the family no matter what their age.

At this point, I am in awe of how Pixar keeps on making vastly superior movies year after year after year. I take delight in seeing how much money they are making at the box office. Hopefully other studios will get greedy and start making movies at the high artistic level of Pixar. The only thing Pixar hasn’t gotten, rather unfairly I believe, is Oscar Gold. Certainly, they have several golden statues in the Best Animated Feature Film and the Best Animated Short Film but it is about time they got recognition in the categories that weren’t made especially for them. (Wall-e in particular, I felt should have won the Oscar for Best Picture in 2008. It would certainly find itself on my list as one of the 100 best movies ever made). The Academy made a mistake in having an Animated category at all. They have essentially voiced the opinion that animation should be relegated to the kiddie table while the live action adults are having dinner. That they would start this tradition during the cultural Renaissance that is Pixar is tragically ironic. In making the argument that cartoons can be considered as great art I quote Sam Jackson’s substance over form argument as he talks about the existence of miracles in Pulp Fiction: 

Vincent: Okay, so God stopped the bullets-
Jules: No, you’re judging this shit all wrong Vincent. Its not that God stopped the bullets, turned water into wine, or found my fucking car keys. What is important is that in that moment I felt the touch of God.”

The movies of Pixar routinely make me laugh heartily, enthrall me with visual delights, and move me deeply. To say that it doesn’t count as great art as much as live action movies is like saying the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes isn’t great literature or that a Richard Pryor standup routine isn’t on the level of a soliloquy by Shakespeare. All of which is complete bullshit. 

I was ten when I saw the first Pixar movie, Toy Story. I must have watched it a dozen times in a period of two years. I pulled it out again in preparation for Toy Story 3. It was still a great movie but like Andi, in the third movie, I was now looking back at those toys as an adult who has put aside childish things. If like Andi and I on the eve of college, you also boarded up the remaining vestiges of your childhood and consoled your mother when she noticed how empty your room was, you might just cry a little. I eagerly await the next movie by Pixar, the best storytellers of my generation. 

Note: The animated short that precedes this movie, Day and Night, is as good as any other animated short Pixar has made. They deserve yet another Oscar for Best Animated short film.