In Which I Review Beauty and the Beast (2017 Movie)

When I was five, my mom took me to see Disney's animated classic Beauty and the Beast. Being so young you'd expect that I have few memories of this experiences but it turns out I have quite a few. I remember loving "Be Our Guest;" I remember crying when I thought the Beast died at the end (side note: I still cry during this part whenever I rewatch) and I remember completely and utterly believing that I would someday grow up to be just like Belle. I know I'm not the only one; girls in my generation align themselves with Belle quite frequently. She's smart, ambitious, desperate for a life "out there" and more or less tells the patriarchy to stick it where the sun don't shine. Unlike the older Disney princesses whose hallmarks traits include being good, proper, pretty, but ultimately in need of rescue from a prince, Belle was my first real example of what a strong female could be, someone who drives their own story, makes their own choices, and is every bit as much of the hero as the male prince. Plus, you know, that gold dress is really awesome. In recent years, Disney has been working overtime to take their much beloved animated classics and turn them into real life; some are successful (Cinderella) and some, while visually arresting, fall flat in attempting to bring something new and different to a story that needs updated (The Jungle Book). When the Great Mouse announced that they would tackle Beauty and the Beast, and Harry Potter's Emma Watson would be playing my younger self's icon, it seemed like a recipe for greatness. But is the magic I experienced at the age of five present in this live action film? Grab your teapot, your candlestick, and your clock and let's go! 

General Thoughts

This is a tale as old as time (sorry, lame joke I know. It's low hanging fruit but totally within my reach) and all the classic moments are found embedded in this new version. Where the story differs, though, is in trying to provide more character motivation that isn't necessary in an animated Disney film largely aimed at an extremely young audience. In the animated movie, the Beast is understood to be beastly even from a young age but without any given reason. While it is true that the privileged and the rich can exhibit traits like vanity and arrogance, there is usually something lurking beneath the surface to explain those characteristics. Here, the Beast is given an appropriate backstory (unsurprisingly it involves a dead parent and a less than ideal other parent) which compares and contrasts nicely with Belle's own tragic backstory and rearing under a far more kindly father. In the animated movie the titular Beauty and Beast have little in common except their circumstances of being literally locked up together but here, in this live action movie, the two can bond over their own loneliness. Belle even remarks that her village is as lonely as the Beast's castle. The two are also outcasts and that further bonds them. While Belle, in both the animated and live version, is loudly (and in sing-song style!) told she's odd and out of place, the animated Beast is shown to have a good dose of friendliness with his servants through their own damnation and desire to see the curse broken. In the live version, though, in order to parallel with Belle, the Beast's relationship with Lumiere, Cogsworth and the like is awkward and stilted because the Beast does not know how to interact with these people he's condemned to a life of objecthood. What's even more interesting here is that the various servants feel that they are responsible for the Beast's situation given that they did not save the young prince from his wretched father. This overwhelming guilt fleshes out the servant characters who's only original purpose was to provide Belle a window into their enchanted life and help explain the Beast's internal thoughts when he's incapable of doing so; this in turn helps them to feel more human as opposed to just enchanted objects who sing to you over your dinner.

The other nice throughline in the film is a strong feminist statement about the capability of women in a man's world. This should not be unexpected given that Disney's Belle is one of the first modern princesses who takes action to run her own narrative and is not solely depended upon a man to be the actor in her story. It's not a secret that Belle longs for a life outside of her provincial one but here it's achingly apparent that the patriarchy is hindering Belle's happiness. Gaston has always been a brute but his overbearing personality is all the more seen in this film when he thinks Belle's resistance only makes the prize more worth having. There are moments from the Disney film that are recast to give Belle more agency; for example, in the original film it is Chip who breaks Belle and Maurice out of the cellar but here it is Belle using her hairpin to help pick the lock and aid in the escape. At another time, Belle actually tries to escape her imprisonment at the Beast's castle instead of accepting her fate, which is a departure from the animated film. Likewise, while Belle goes toe to toe and retort for retort with the Beast, she is moreover shown to be his intellectual equal; they may not agree on if Romeo and Juliet is the best Shakespeare play or not, but Belle does not suffer from lack of imagination, independent thought, and understanding found in a more prestigious and male oriented education. There are also smaller moments in which Belle does math, invents the washing machine, and tries to teach a little girl to read despite the schoolmaster disliking women reading immensely. The fact that Belle and the Beast bond over long walks, books, and poetry shows that the her beauty is found within, not just without. She's a fully formed character and not a set of values meant to change the Beast into a man.

What I Liked/Did Not Like

--I need to start with the biggest controversy surrounding the entire film: the character of LeFou. In the animated Disney film, LeFou is the comedic sidekick to Gaston and his only role is to prop up the villain's ego and not be disgruntled over the treatment he receives. It's not a great character but LeFou does serve to show how terrible Gaston truly is--a man who beats up and bullies his best friend isn't a man to write home about. In this new version, however, the movie decided it was time to give LeFou some extra flavoring and so they made him subtly gay. This is the first openly gay character in the Disney universe but it was also made a bigger deal by the producers than is depicted on screen. It wasn't really until the end scene when the film openly showed LeFou as homosexual; until then, however, while it was never explicit, Josh Gad and the writers depicted LeFou in what can only be called overtly cliche homosexual hallmarks. He's flamboyant though you can make the argument it's keeping with a cartoon character. I will say, however, that LeFou was not the spineless twerp he is in the animated film; in this modern version he has a strong conscious and is a voice of reason to Gaston's brutish neanderthal nature.

--This is a visually stunning film. The colors--either natural or garish--are rich and eye-popping and the graphic design is breathtaking. Pay close attention to the costumes in this film. A lot of color themes are worked throughout; in the early story the prince and palace are shown in harsh bright colors, almost unnatural and otherworldly. Belle is rendered in her hallmark blues and natural tones though she stands in contrast to the vulgar townspeople who are in shades not found in nature (though, tellingly, they are found in the Prince's castle before the enchantment). The Prince himself wears his normal blue coat but it slowly changes until he becomes more human and his blues are picked up in Belle's wardrobe.

--Speaking of, the Beasts's final powder blue outfit was delicious and I'd love to own it.

--However, whatever was going on with Belle's iconic blue dress was distracting. Was it tucked into her waist? Is that the design of the dress?

--"Hello. And what is your name?" "That...is a hairbrush."

--The incorporation of some of the original French fairy tale was a really nice touch.

--All the actors did a bang up job but Emma Watson and Dan Stevens did particularly well. However, while I love Emma Thompson generally her depiction of Mrs Potts was a bit too cliche. Mrs. Potts is supposed to be kind and motherly but I was overly distracted by Thompson's over the top cockney accent. Honestly, would it have killed them to get Angela Landsbury back?

--It does bother me that the library scene was not recreated exactly as it is in the animated film but the continuing motif of being intellectually compatible and bonding over the library books made up for it.

--Between his career defining work on Legion and this wonderfully nuanced and careful portrayal of the Beast, I sort of fell a little in love with Dan Stevens.

--All the classic songs are here and done with aplomb, though "Be Our Guest" was noticeably slowed down. This is perhaps made up by the soaring solo performance by the Beast as Belle leaves the castle; it gave me honest to goodness shivers.

Final Grade and Thoughts: A-

The changes made serve the story well but are not so frequent as to distract Disney fans who came to relive some early 1990s nostalgia. The themes that made the animated movie so strong are here aplenty ready for new young girls to grasp on to.

In Which I Review Star Trek: Beyond

Time; it marches on. Three years ago, one of my very first blog posts and, really, first review, was of the second modern Star Trek movie, entitled Into Darkness. I was pretty harsh, reading the review again for the first time in a long while, but deservedly so. It remains a lackluster remake of The Wrath of Khan, easily the most beloved and well made of the original Trek films. My anticipation, then, for the latest installment, "Beyond," was mixed. On the one hand, this is still Star Trek and since I was eight years old, I have loved Gene Roddenberry's world. I have loved its characters, ships, themes, morals, philosophy, heart, and meaning. From the Original to Voyager, there are few science-fiction franchises that mean as much to me as Star Trek. On the other hand, the second movie demonstrated that the writers and directors have only a passing understanding of what made Trek, Trek. If the second movie had been a standalone, no fifty year history with which to grapple, it might have been a more solid film, but the fact is that this movie, and all subsequent ones, are going to be judged by the vision, writing, talent, and views of Roddenberry. There are two questions we need to examine when viewing any new Star Trek film; first and foremost, is it a good movie? And second, does it live up to what Roddenberry envisioned when he pitched a TV show about space exploration many years ago? Grab your favorite red shirt and let's go!

General Thoughts

Can you get lost in space? I suppose, in a literal sense, yes of course you can. You find yourself on the wrong end of a magnetized polar variation and bam, you're stuck in the Delta Quadrant for seven years (no offense Captain Janeway). But what Star Trek: Beyond wants to tackle is whether a person's identity can get lost in the vastness and sameness of space; whether it's possible that the day to day living aboard a vessel can leave people questioning their own purpose and general direction in life and whether the solution is a new tactic or the same shtick ad nauseum. In other words, when things begin to feel a bit episodic (pun intended), what keeps us, and the fearless crew of the Enterprise, going at warp speed toward the next horizon? Those types of questions are explored in Star Trek: Beyond. There is a throughline in the movie that should the crew of the Enterprise break up, the individuals of the ship would cease to be the people they need to be. Uhura tells the main antagonist that there is strength in unity and the film goes to many great lengths, via both intense action sequences of everyone working together and quiet musings, to demonstrate that the team, the crew, and the sum total are greater than the parts. But what happens if individuals were to carefully remove themselves from the equation? Take away the linchpins and slowly people lose themselves. Kirk contemplates taking a Vice Admiral position; Spock wonders if he should aid in the re-population of New Vulcan. As fans of the Original Series, and just Star Trek generally, we know, of course, that Kirk and Spock (and Bones, Sulu, Checkov, Scotty, and Uhura) all belong with each other aboard their beloved Enterprise. We know that in another timeline Kirk did achieve the Admiral status and gave it up because his true love, passion, and reason for being is Captaining the Enterprise. In another life, Spock left Vulcan (twice!) to be with his friends. However, the crew members themselves are not privy to the same history that we have; they are living it, making the history we already love. They have to figure out for themselves that there is beauty in the episodic, a sort of mundane glory in wearing the same shirt day after day and recording the same sort of stories time after time; that while chaos gets the blood thrumming and the heart racing, it's the day to day adventures, twists, turns, and sometimes negotiations gone horribly wrong that are their first and best destiny. With that in mind, it's easy to see how Star Trek: Beyond is a coy wink and a nudge from the writers to the fans. This "episode" might be on a much grander and more blockbuster scale, but the script and plot could have come, broadly, from any individual episode of Star Trek (take your pick for series; they all have episodic one-offs). While the crew of the Original Series Enterprise never engaged in this many space battles, the crew landing on some far off planet and dealing with someone who's own ideas stand opposed to the Federation, but is dealt with by Kirk and company, feels all too familiar. The broad strokes of the story could have played on a smaller screen and been a perfectly fine episode and that's what we're dealing with here. The writers want us to love the episodic, to embrace the formula that their Star Trek series is going to stick to. Just like Kirk accepts the glorious mundane, so too we accept and love the comfort of the known. It may not be fresh, innovative, or groundbreaking, but it will feel like the Star Trek you watched as a kid. Even with the many space battles and inexplicable lens flairs.

While the interpersonal relationships between the crew and the broad strokes of the plot might be served by this episodic approach, it fairs less well with its main villain, Krall. So far, in all three new Trek movies, the villains have been fairly uncomplicated, barely fleshed out baddies with a penchant for growling lines, quick sob stories, and in every case, a Magical MacGuffin weapon that simply must be stopped before it destroys the Federation, the ship, the crew, ect. This is where the new Trek runs aground; the villains in the many TV series tend to be much more complex than simply "bad guy;" this is usually because their villainy is couched in some sort of understandable humanity. They worship a computer thinking it a god because they do not know better; they were chemically poisoned by a flower to experience euphoria and forget their Starfleet or scientific mission; they are trying to save their race; they are trying touch their creator and feel that humanity stands in the way. There are "bad guys" who do what they do fully understanding that they might take a life or harm another, but their motivation behind said action is sympathetic if not empathetic. The Cardassians are bigoted nationalists who colonize other races, but is their spread through the galaxy, trying to instill their way of life, all that different from humanity's; is Gul Dukat nothing but a black hat baddie? That's the nuance of Star Trek. To bring this back to Star Trek: Beyond, Krall is about as rote and transparent as it gets. He wants to destroy the Federation because he's a solider and because he's angry. Going into details would constitute a major spoiler, but having a villain that is like all the other villains that came before him only makes him fall even flatter than would have on his own. The episodic nature might be great for some parts of Star Trek: Beyond, but I wish the writers would have pushed themselves in the Krall-regard. Why might someone loathe the Federation? In Roddenberry's world, the Federation was akin to a utopia; everything worked in harmony because humanity learned hard lessons from its past--slaughter, eugenic wars, famine, greed were all overcome--and had made a better place that the Federation wanted to share with everyone else among the stars; that is all well and good when you're inside the system but for those outside looking in, the Federation can seem insidious (like Root Beer, if you ask Quark and Garak at the DS9 station) and just as much a colonizing swarm of insistent bees as any other. Here in 2016, it's great to have a classic Trek episode to watch when it comes to the how the crew understand themselves and each other, but it's past time that this new franchise begin to explore villainy in all its complexities. A person's reasons for wanting to destroy a race or an organization should never be boiled down to just one root cause; it's a disservice to the complicated and multi-layered reasons and psychology behind not only conflicts but the people embroiled in them and to be perfectly blunt, Star Trek is better than that.

What I Liked And Did Not Like

--If this movie did one thing exceptionally well, it was mixing up the normal pairings of crew members to allow those not often seen together a chance to play off each other. The heart of the franchise will always be the incomparable trio, but too often the other crew members are sacrificed for the relationship between Kirk, Spock, and Bones--and quite often even my dear Bones gets the short stick. The movie took a chance by having Kirk working with other people and keeping Bones and Spock together for a change. It worked! One of my favorite episodes from the Original Series is "Bread and Circuses" in which Spock and Bones have some time apart from Jim and you really see that while they might be wholly different in terms of philosophy, they still care for each other a great deal and would die for one another if they had to.

--"You gave your girlfriend a tracking device?"
"...that was not my intent."

--The moment when Spock opens up Spock Prime's belongings and finds a picture of the Original Crew tore my insides up and it was all I could do not to cry in the theater. It keeps with the throughline of being your best self with others but it was also a very nice acknowledgement of the past history.

--Modern day science fiction has a nasty habit of thinking that it needs big battle sequences in order to be classified as Science Fiction. Nothing could be further from the truth and if you go back and watch many episodes of Star Trek (again, any series) you'll see that big battles in space are few and far between. Star Trek is more philosophical and introspective than constant torpedoes. While I understand that a big summer blockbuster is going to have at least one action sequence, having more than 4 in a two hour movie wears on the eyes, the ears, and patience.

--Props to Simon Pegg, who co-wrote the movie, for putting the humor back into Star Trek. There have always been witty exchanges among the Star Trek crew; in the last film that felt decidedly lacking.

--I suppose I need to address the Sulu controversy. Yes, in a very brief scene it is established that Hikaru Sulu is gay and has a husband and child. This was done to honor George Takei, the original Sulu and outspoken LGBT advocate. I have no problem with Star Trek having a gay character and, frankly, it's really about time. But I don't think, in this case, it was done for the right reasons. Star Trek is all about progressive views on society, showing the audience how humanity could be if it could just overcome its pettiness concerning religion, race, gender, sexual orientation, and ethnicity. While having a gay character is progressive (sort of, it is 2016 after all) it wasn't done as a demonstration of progressive attitudes but to honor one man and his lifestyle. It's not supposed to be about Takei, but about Roddenberry and his world view. Next time, create a whole new character, gay and fleshed out, so that we might see the progress.

--I think the film writers want me to be impressed with the Jaylah character but while she's a "tough female character" she's also in the mold of what men think a tough female character should be. In other words, they give them hallmark male characteristics--fighter, handy, intrepid, tough--and expect us to applaud their feminism. While women are certainly all those things, feminism isn't about taking male characteristics and simply putting a vagina on them. It's about who controls the female's agency--her or a man. Jaylah might be a pretty tough fighter and she certainly plays a part in the grand plan to get off of Krall's planet, but she's heavily reliant on the male Starfleet officers to progress her story off the planet and, in the end, into the academy. Cool makeup, though.

--Some nice canon touchstones like reference to the Xindi wars and Jim Kirk not wanting to celebrate his birthday (but Bones really should have presented him with some Romulan ale and Spock gifted him a copy of A Tale of Two Cities).

--I honestly have no idea why this movie is called "Beyond."

--For the next Star Trek film, should there be one, I'd like more exploration before the problem falls into Kirk's lap. One of the best things about the franchise is the creative imagination that spawns brand new worlds, new races, and let's us traverse a new landscape. Going along with this, please stop destroying the Enterprise. It doesn't have the same emotional impact as when Kirk blew it up in "Search for Spock" because unlike that ship, this rebooted one doesn't feel like one of the main characters. The original ship, in all its NCC-1701 glory, was "a lady. You treat her right, and she'll always bring you home."

Final Ratings for Star Trek: Beyond: B

It's very much a summer blockbuster but because the story feels more like a classic episode of a most beloved franchise, it evens out all the very tedious fight scenes and dull villain. It's still Star Trek, after all, and that will always mean something.

In Which I Review Finding Dory

Sequels are always a particularly hard creature with which to tangle. The first and original iteration of a franchise is obviously so beloved that it warrants another go around; but how exactly should a writer and director approach this new undiscovered work--should it follow in the footsteps of its predecessor, reminding the audience why it fell in love with the first showing, or should it branch off completely and find its own voice and un-trodden path?I was a junior in high school when Finding Nemo came out and, in spite of being well above the target demographic, I thought it was one of the best, freshest, and emotionally gut punching animated films I'd ever seen. The story--a basic one about a father searching for his lost child--was full of deep oceanic wonder, quirky secondary characters, and as much heart as the sea is deep. It became an instant classic and, easily, the most famous aspect of the movie was everyone's favorite blue tang, Dory. Voiced by Ellen DeGeneres, the forgetful fish packed one hell of a wallop and managed to imprint herself on our hearts somewhere between teaching us all to just keep swimming and speaking whale. So, in other words, it came as little to no surprise that Disney/Pixar trotted out a sequel staring Dory in the aptly named "Finding Dory." A secondary outing of the characters probably wasn't necessary but it doesn't mean that it wasn't welcome. Grab your favorite Dory plushie (you know you have one) and let's go!

General Thoughts

Whether or not Pixar suspected the sort of cultural collateral they were about to establish with Dory when she crashed into "Finding Nemo" we'll never know, but the little blue tang was always supposed to be a sidekick and comic relief. Her tendency to forget everything she knows in the blink of a fish eye and her propensity for hilarious one liners and endearing catchphrases made her ridiculously lovable. However, in terms of character, Dory is (understandably) a blank slate. Presented in the first twenty minutes of "Finding Nemo," Dory has no ties to the main family of clown-fish Marlin and his erstwhile son, Nemo. None, that is, except those that she establishes as the film progresses. Dory becomes one of the family as she helps Marlin along his Odyssey-like journey to find his fishy son, but her character history is a broad one and stays as such all through the first flick, and that's to the movie's credit, to be fair. Dory is not the lead in "Finding Nemo;" she need not be fleshed out and given a backstory to give her any sort of pathos (which she inexplicably has in spades even without any sort of history to ground her character). While the title "Finding Nemo" is a literal one--Marlin literally goes on a journey to literally find his son--"Finding Dory" takes a different approach. Dory does not need to be literally found; she's not lost in the traditional sense. She has a home and a family, albeit one of her own making, having taken up with Marlin and Nemo in their coral reef home at the end of the first movie. Dory is lost in a more metaphorical sense--she has no concept of who she is or where she came from. Dory's family is lost to her, along with her home and any sort of memories she may have once had about those two life defining things. While Marlin and Nemo provide her with a sense of belonging, all fish (and, really, everyone) need to know from whence they came, otherwise how can we really know who we are as a person? In this sense, "Finding Dory" is actually deeper than "Finding Nemo," though both touch on the same themes of loss and family. While Nemo centers on Marlin letting go of his son and learning to survive when bad things happen to his family, Dory focuses on the identities we build through our experiences with families---families that we define and create with all manner of peoples, be they of blood relation or not. While the adults in the room might get that message more than the little kids in the audience, it's never too early to start teaching said children the importance of communities and accepting those that are different than we are. We're all just fish in the ocean, looking for a place to belong. Disney/Pixar, it's not just about singing princesses anymore.

The major through-line for the entire film is Dory trying to find her biological family but at the same time comes to understand that her family is more extensive than just mom, Jenny, and dad, Charlie. Dory's family includes not only Marlin and Nemo, the two fish she discovers she misses just as much as her mom and dad, but all the characters that flicker in and out of her rather extraordinary life. This includes Destiny the nearsighted whale, Bailey the Beluga whale who has lost his ability to echolocate, and Hank the surly, cranky but tender septopus (he lost a tentacle), all of whom try to help Dory find her family, both of the blue tang and orange clown variety. Dory's emotional journey matches her outward journey of setting out to find her home only to discover that she has always had part of it with her once she found Marlin and Nemo. This, more than any of the other emotional beats in the movie, is what will get audiences to reach for their Kleenexes. Lovers of "Finding Nemo" will already recognize that Dory has a family and a home with the two clown fish in their anemone, but it's watching Dory come to the same understanding about just how big her family really is that plucks at the heartstrings. It helps that Marlin (and Nemo to a lesser extent) are fully fleshed out characters with a ton of history that we already know; we understand how much Marlin loves Dory, even if he's loathe to admit it and still finds himself exasperated with her at times. We know how strongly the ties between all three of them are and it's watching the three of them piece it together for themselves that will cause the waterworks. While this emotional journey is undergoing, there are, naturally, quirky characters, funny moments, and gorgeous CGI. It's exactly what you'd expect from a visit to the deep blue with these well loved characters. Somehow, everything feels familiar; Marlin is a worrywart and tends to snap when he's upset; Nemo's heart is the size of an ocean and loves unconditionally; Dory still manages to somehow pull off zany plans that make no sense except that she simply believes they'll work. There are shout-outs to the best moments of "Finding Nemo," tiny moments that let the audience chuckle at an inside joke. It's a thoroughly enjoyable film that swims down familiar territory while trying something new (and deeper) on for size.

What I Liked/What I Did Not Like

--I'm going to put likes and dislikes together because there are far more of one (likes) than the other (dislikes) as has probably become apparent with the above general review.

--While the new characters in "Finding Dory" aren't as memorable as the side characters in "Finding Nemo," they are still very enjoyable, if lacking in any sort of shading. Part of this is because of setting. The main action of the film takes place in an aquatic hospital and while that's a very intriguing idea, the film doesn't exactly go to any trouble or length to explain how many of those creatures ended up there. Yes, Destiny is near sighted but she's clearly grown up in the aquarium. Yes, Bailey has "hit his head" and lost his ability to perform echolocation and yes, Hank has lost a tentacle and is traumatized by the thought of the ocean but we don't get any indication as to how these issues surfaced, how they were noticed, and how the animals in question feel about these handicaps outside of sometimes melancholy but fully functional. It's an animated film that centers on three characters predominately, so I wasn't expecting a fleshed out story for each side fish (erm, whale and cephalopod) but it's worth noting that the film series has a tendency to give their side characters a certain trait that is clearly manifested (short term memory loss, nearsightedness, crazy as a loon, missing a limb,) without explaining it further. It's most disquieting in Gerald, a sealion that is drawn with wide, vacant eyes and give no dialogue as if he's mute and dumb and is simply played for laughs. While the movie is all about celebrating the differences in people, this one gave me pause, though I will be forgiving given how adorable Gerald is.

--With that said, if Dory stole the first film, then Hank steals the second. It's nice to know that Dory meets grumpy, cautious, orange sea creatures wherever she goes.

--No scene made me cry harder than the ending of the opening "flashback" when Dory literally runs into a frantic Marlin after swimming the length and breadth of the ocean looking for her family. Yes, it's the actual "Finding Nemo" scene but the major theme of the movie series is perfectly captured here: Dory needs Marlin and much as Marlin needs Dory. Families are built through love and trials as well as blood.

--Lots of callbacks to "Finding Nemo," including the return of several favorite characters like Mr. Ray and Dude Crush, the hippie surfer turtle. I do wish they had Bruce make a special appearance. Inquiring minds need to know if he's still living by his mantra that fish are friends, not food.

--The animation continues to be breathtaking, though in this case we aren't marveling at the deep ocean but the almost dingy water of an aquarium. There's an unspoken meta commentary about ocean pollution that does not go unnoticed.

--There were a few too many fast paced action sequences of getting one fish (either Dory or Marlin/Nemo) to another place but that's to be expected when you have to fill in some time.

--"Follow me!" "...you're in a cup." "Okay, I'll follow you."

--I have no idea what kind of bird Becky is (though, I suspect loon), but she's fabulous and if there's a third movie, I hope she's there to carry Marlin around in a bucket.

--Seriously, I'd like to have a stuffed Gerald, please and thank you. I'll give him his own rock.

--Baby Dory is the cutest fish to ever exist.

--Sequels have an annoying tendency to take little quirks from the first film and explain them in a way that fits into the larger mythos of a story. Finding Dory does this but doesn't try to make them salient plot points that hint at something larger. For example, in the first film the most famous scene is probably Dory speaking whale while Marlin looks on in horror. That quirk of Dory's is explained in the second film. But instead of it being something that is important to the entire franchise, it's simply because she grew up next to a whale. Props to the writers for not making this multi-lingual ability something mega important but simply a fact of Dory's multicultural life.

--The animated short "Piper" that opened the film is equally cute if a little schmaltzy.

--There is an adorable post-credits scene that is worth sticking around for!

Final Rating: A-

Grab the family, grab the Kleenexes and go back home to the big blue one more time.

In Which I Review The Jungle Book (2016 Disney Movie)

Well, Disney you did it again. And by "it" I mean you took a beloved classic, let some real humans take the well worn characters for a test drive, and profited an almost obscene amount of money by playing on people's nostalgia and fond remembrances of days gone by. It's what you're good at, poking the childhood feels with clever songs and beloved narratives and I tip my hat to you for being able to put forth a "new" product every year that isn't, strictly speaking, new, innovative, fresh, forward thinking, or any typically positive adjective movie makers aim for when casting their lens or pens at a new project. That sounded like a heavy criticism, but it wasn't, truth be told. These are the films I grew up with; these movies and stories are my childhood and I, sucker that I am, join the masses in indulging in some fond recollections. Like my Cinderella movie review from a little over a year ago (was it year? gosh, time doth fly) there's very little need to set up this review. The plot is so well known that it barely (pun?) needs remarked upon at all. But unlike the Cinderella rave review, this one gets only a tentative "good" from me. There's something lacking in this new Disney live action adaptation, as if the film couldn't push itself to try and say something new. It certainly wasn't bad, but I did not leave the theater believing in the power of fairy tales again. And maybe--just maybe--it's because the Jungle Book isn't a fairy tale (though many of the tropes are well embedded). There's something darker and more feral at the heart of the jungle and the movie really missed the chance to explore the heart of darkness in man and beast alike. The jungle isn't for kids (despite the sugary sweet ending this film gives) and by not delving into the savagery of both man and beast I am left with something wanting. Hopefully I can unpack that a bit below, eh? Grab a cowbell (because of course) and let's go! 

General Thoughts

There came a point during my viewing of this film when I wondered if I'm not just a wee bit too cynical at times. Don't worry, readers. You don't actually have to answer me; I know I am. I've been trying to think back to my childhood experiences of The Jungle Book, the original Disney animated movie. Did I enjoy it then? I think I did, but certainly not the extent of, say, The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast. I liked the songs; I liked Baloo; and I know I loved Kaa (this, by the way, will come up again below so stay tuned). But for me, as a child, The Jungle Book felt too foreign. Talking animals were common in Disney films so I had no problem with that, but the lack of a real world made it too escapist. I've never been in a jungle nor witnessed any of its horrors (and the Disney film mostly makes the horrors of the jungle into jokes--it is, after all, a cartoon) and the cartoon landscapes felt too otherworldly to ever feel deadly. In the new live action film, the otherworldly feeling goes right out the window and becomes very real. But as I stated above, the realness feels flat, or at least unexplored, lacking in the depth of horror we know the jungle can offer. A jungle, in literature, can often represent as terrifying an ordeal as a haunted castle or a wild moor. More so, even, because the jungle in the actual Jungle Book is one of those wildly untapped ones; the kind that people go in to and never come out of (sort of like Mowgli). There are giant apes and ruinous temples and raging rivers and apparently elephants who are also expert landscapers. The jungle itself is supposed to feel like a living creature in this film, one that can be wild and deadly but also one that can nurture and endure. The film does a passingly good job at the latter, but it's the former where it falls down for me. We spend the last bit of the beginning of the movie moving from landscape to landscape with Mowgli and Bagheera--and yes the jungle is so vast and uncharted that it contains everything from rocky terrain, to dense forest, to yellowed Savannah, to something that looks akin to your local midwest state park. The jungle in this movie is the world, but it never feels truly like a threat (hint: it should!). It's not just Shere Khan who threatens Mowgli; the entire situation should be a threat. If Mowgli wants to chose the jungle (because that's where his multi-creatured pack is) that's fine, but the movie never shows the true horror of the jungle; but you better believe it shows the horrors of the man village. Bathed in fire--not just normal fire, mind you, but a fire that licks the sky and threatens to overtake the men standing around its warmth (tiny beings reduced to mere shadows before its red and yellow glow)--the man village is an unholy nightmare from which Mowgli runs.

And this is what I mean by my own jaded cynicism. It's a Disney film, for crying out loud. I shouldn't be rooting for something akin to Conrad's Heart of Darkness! But lessening the terror of the jungle felt out of place with the realism the movie brought in other terms, like the animation, voice acting of most of the cast, or, yes, the raw human emotions the animals invoke when they deal with the incredibly real problems of Shere Khan's threats, losing a loved one, or friend. This is topped off by what I feel is a very rough ending that makes everything too saccharine and too "happily ever after." Again, it's a Disney film so why am I being so harsh that the storybook closed and all's well that ends well? Well, I think it's actually because the animated Disney film--the one that should by virtue of medium be more Disney-esque than this new live action one--chose a very different path, one this new movie eschewed in a rather eyebrow raising manner. Mowgli doesn't leave the jungle; the closest he gets to the man village is the threshold, where he steals some fire and runs back to his jungle home. The animated film pushes Mowgli toward humanity. Like mythical Enkidu, Mowgli is tamed not by fire but by the lure of his own burgeoning manhood--in other words, he sees a pretty girl. Humanity is placed above the law of the jungle, the wild untamed forests, and even his two best friends Bagheera and Baloo in the animated film. It's definitely a bold statement for this 2016 film to cast humanity so dark and have Mowgli stay in the jungle--after all, humans are doing a pretty nice job of wrecking the planet as is, right (yes, the modern overtones of this movie are fairly heavy at times). But it cannot be that straightforward (jungle good, village bad), not when your plot has side moments like a blood thirsty tiger, a law in which peace between "tribes" of people only comes during great upset (like lack of water), and a 2,000 pound ape who wants to rule his empire with the help of the red flower (fire). All three of those "dangers," except Shere Khan, are given little room to truly become terrors and instead are either quickly resolved (the rainy season comes quickly) or are made into comic and iconic moments of song and dance. And once the imminent threat of Shere Khan is removed, the jungle returns to a paradise. My criticisms sound harsh but only because there is so much more this film could have done to emphasize that the jungle and the village are one and the same--packs of peoples or animals, seeking to dominate and protect their own. King Louie wants to bring the jungle under his control with fire? So do humans. Driving home this point--that there is little separation between the wild and the civilized--would go a long way in demonstrating that Mowgli would be at home in either place and is both beast and man.

What I Liked

--The animation of this film is gorgeous. The standout animation scene is probably Mowgli sitting on Baloo's belly, floating upstream.

--I especially loved the re-imagining of King Louie as a giant ape sitting on a throne of a long forgotten temple. Christopher Walken gives a very nice performance moving from stuttering kindly voice in the dark to oversized temple-destroyer in a matter of moments. Also, a round of applause to whoever thought up Mowgli finding a cowbell seconds before you first hear Louie speak.

--While I didn't like the actual plot ending, the ending-ending of the book closing whilst laying on a blue velvet cloth is so damn iconic I actually sniffled a bit.

--"You have never been in more danger of being extinct than you are right now." Baloo was on point.

--Even if their roles were smaller, most of the voice actors did a fantastic job bringing their talents to animal creatures. I say most because despite loving Idris Elba in everything he does, he was a bit too whisker twirling bad kitty this time around; the cartoon tiger was elegant in his villainy. He also missed the chance to showcase Shere Khan's trauma and (yup) humanity in light of his fears.

What I Disliked 

--Not nearly enough Kaa! The giant snake was masterfully rendered but her role was so small. And she didn't even get to sing "Trust In Me" until the end credits!

--Some clunky dialogue like right after Kaa tells Mowgli the story of the man and his cub who fought Shere Kahn in the distant past, she says, "and that man cub was you!" No kidding. You don't need to make this text. The young kid is wearing red pantaloons. It's clearly Mowgli.

--The actor playing Mowgli was a hit and a miss. One the one hand, he's incredibly young and his costars are tennis balls on sticks so it takes a certain amount of imagination to even make this work, but on the other hand, at no point did I forget that I was watching a kid "play" around. He never became Mowgli, in other words. Also, his annunciation could use some work at times.

--The constant "law of the jungle" refrain got wearisome.

--I'm glad Bear Necessities wasn't cut, but Baloo and Mowgli couldn't even sing it together in time?

Final Grade and Thoughts on The Jungle Book

--Final Grade: B

--Final Thought: This is a mostly acceptable version of a beloved Disney story and it strays little from the wheelhouse. But where it does stray is noticeable and without any real depth of exploration of what the film is really trying to say.

In Which I Review Cinderella (2015 Movie)

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Ella...

Can you tell the same story over and over again without it losing its magic, without it losing that little special something that made it a story worth telling in the first place? Hollywood's answer to this question over the past few years has been a resounding "no." In order to tell a story, you have to take apart the old one, bit my bit, until it's broken into its component parts and then put it back together--Frankenstein style--so that there is some new twist, some new allure. Maleficent becomes the tragic heroine and King Stephan is an evil prick. The Wicked Witch of the West is really a lost ugly little girl who never fit in and Dorothy is an unfortunate interloper. Ursula's crown and kingdom were stolen by her vile brother, Triton. The taglines are all the same, "this is the story you thought you knew!" And so it goes, revision after revision until the story is muddled, the lines in the sand are less clear, and you're not sure from whence you began. But here's the thing: sometimes the oldest stories, those stories with clear villains and heroes, the ones that are as old as time, those stories with their magic wands and wicked stepmothers and enchanting servant girls and charming princes...are still the best. You need not tell me a new story; you just have to tell me the old story well.

Hashing the Plot

Here's the thing. You know this story. I know this story. Everyone in the blessed world knows this story. That's the kind of cultural collateral 'Cinderella' has. It doesn't matter if your version of the story has a glass slipper, a golden slipper, or a slipper made of fur (yes, really). It's the same story and it's a powerful one. There is very little revision in this updated live action Disney version. Everything is as it should be; Cinderella herself is charming, brave, and kind. She works hard for her wicked family; she is kind to animals who are, in turn, kind to her and help her sew dresses and keep her company. Ella is beautiful on the outside but its her inner beauty that shines the brightest. Her prince is handsome and sweet and attentive and all together charming (and played by Richard Madden, who is startlingly beautiful once you get him out of the furs and leathers of North). The wicked step mother is in her trope-tastic glory as she mentally and verbally abuses Cinderella; as sly as a fox, she moves throughout the scene as an ominous black cloud, simply hating Cinderella for being pretty and kind and youthful. The stepsisters, Anastasia and Drusilla, are loud, ridiculous and garish. The fairy godmother is like something out of another world, meaning that she is either quite mad or you are for believing in her bippty boppity boos. Gus Gus the mouse is as chubby and adorable as always. There is a small bit of revision in that the writers do try to flesh out Lady Tremaine a bit more than the classic animated Disney story but not the extent that she suddenly becomes a hero or even anti-hero. Oh, no. Never that far. Lady Tremaine is a sad woman but it has turned her bitter instead of allowing us to be sympathetic. Lady Tremaine is every inch the Wicked Stepmother cliche and the story is the better for it. I don't need her to be tragic and lonesome and heartbroken, leaving my loyalties torn between the kind Cinderella and the "evil isn't born, it's made" Stepmother. I am perfectly comfortable with her classic villainy. The story is supremely old and it fits...well, it fits like a glass slipper on the correct ladies foot.

What I Liked

--Holy smokes, this film is breathtakingly gorgeous. It's as if you have been popped into a color factory where every color is richer and more defined and less tainted by the world. The colors of this film are almost unnaturally and jarringly beautiful. There is a veritable explosion of blues from the soft sky blue of Ella's peasant dress, to the rich deep ocean blue of the Prince's jacket, to the clear almost gem like cerulean or cyan of Ella's ball gown. The costumes themselves complete the story, working to tell the tale you already know. The prince's soft green hues match Ella's light blues; a study in complements instead of contrast. The Wicked Stepmother's first appearance has her in jet black that sucks all the color and energy from the room as she becomes the ominous sign of abuse and neglect. She is later in the darker, energy pulling greens that seek to drown out Ella's blues, just as Lady Tremaine schemes to keep Ella locked in the attic. The step sisters are forever in unnatural colors of pinks and yellows that stand apart from the idilyic country colors that make up Cinderella's world. The warm browns and other spring and autumnal earth tones found on Ella's country estate are at odds with the polka dots and heavily brocaded outwear of Ana and Dru. All of it screams that the two sisters and their mother simply do not belong. See, costume design. It matters.

--Apart from the costumes, though, the scenery itself is mesmerizing. Every angle is carefully set up with light and shadow so that the rooms look appropriately lux or desolate. The castle, home of the king and prince, is grand and felt like something that took hundreds of years to get right instead of the set designers working for a few months to get all the details right.

--The transformation scene, in which Ella is turned into her princess best, is straight up, pure, unfiltered magic. If Walt Disney were to pop up out of his grave and watch this scene, he would nod with approval and say, "Yes. That is what I intended." Those iconic glass slippers might be one of the most gorgeous things I've ever seen on film. I shall require them in my closet, post haste. 

--Cate Blanchett as the Wicked Stepmother, the Lady Tremaine. There is a level of scene chewing to her performance that is entertaining instead of cringe inducing. She should be over the top; she's an archetype after all and she needs to fit the bill. Cate manages to be cold and distant and all together cruel while never raising her voice above a threatening melody and presenting herself as a great lady when she is really anything but. 

--Helena Bonham Carter as the Fairy Godmother. Because of course. Who else would pull off a dress the size of a small moon and be completely absurd but somehow endearing? Her makeup for her small but memorable role was spot on as well. She was the picture of ethereal other-worldly charm.

--Richard Madden as Prince Kit. I spent half the film drowning in his blue eyes and other half cursing George RR Marin for killing Robb Stark.

--Finally, a fairy tale movie that sticks to the actual fairy tale.

What I Did Not Like

--I have very little to say here; as you might be able to tell this is a rave and a gush from me. The problems are few and more nitpicky. Lily James performed adequately as the titular Cinderella. She was spunky and alive but there was something simpering about her that did manage to grate on my nerves toward the end. She has a very low pitch voice that is full of air, and that lends to Ella's delicate nature but also makes me a bit restless, especially when she's expounding the same moral philosophy of being "courageous and kind" over and over.

--Maybe I am becoming overly cynical in my old age, but I found the first 15 minutes of the film--in which we see Ella's perfect childhood and family--a bit too saccharine and sweet. Any more of it and I would probably would have gotten a cavity. Yes, it serves as a contrast to life with the Lady Tremaine but there is something to be said about believability.

--Did I really need 'Frozen Fever' before hand? No, not really. Though, you'll never hear me say no to more Olaf, especially when he has cake. 

--Not nearly enough Gus Gus. That mouse was flipping adorable. 

Final Grade: A-


A film that sparkles and shines with the magic of yesteryear and reminds us all of what it was to be a child discovering fairy tales for the first time.

In Which I Review The Fault in our Stars (Movie)

Some infinities are bigger than others

Over a year ago, when this blog was brand new, I did a series of books reviews. One of the fist books I talked about was John Green's "The Fault in our Stars." I gave it an A- and a rave review. I admit I am biased when it comes to John Green products. I've been a big fan of his for a long time, both as an author and as a vlogger. When I heard that Hollywood was adapting his New York Times best selling novel, I was both thrilled and incredibly apprehensive. How could they possibly hope to match the beautiful story John Green wrote? They couldn't manage to cast people who would do Hazel and Gus justice, right? Most of my fears were assuaged when I saw the trailer for the film--if the 1 minute long trailer could make me cry, then it had to be on the right track. You should know going in that this is going to be a rave. Honestly, this might be one of the most faithful adaptations of a novel I've seen in years. But, fair warning, if you go to see the film, take some tissues, you'll need them. 

Hashing the Plot

Let's do a quick overview of the plot before I get into what I liked and didn't like. Hazel Grace Lancaster is 16 years old and dying. She was diagnosed very young with cancer, stage 4. She wasn't expected to survive long but went through all the treatment options we assoiciate with cancer: chemo, radiation, more chemo, and finally a "miracle" drug that managed to prevent the cancer from spreading any further. Despite the miracle, Hazel is still dying, just more slowly now. Her lungs "suck at being lungs" and she needs a constant stream of oxygen supplied by a tank. When the film picks up, Hazel is just living her life day-to-day as one might expect: she watches TV, she goes to the doctor, she hangs out with her parents. But her mother and father are worried that she's depressed, a side of effect of the cancer. Hazel's voice over tells us that it's a side effect of dying, but almost everything is. Her doctor and her mother encourage her to go to a support group. The group serves as a cliche piece of any "cancer story" you read about--a group of young people who must strive to find the beauty in life despite all the odds. They sit in the literal heart of Jesus Christ and talk about how they are doing today. Hazel hates every second of it. Unlike the plucky young heroine of other cancer novels, who's illness causes them to struggle admirably, Hazel has accepted that she is going to die and that oblivion is inevitable. Then Augustus Waters bumps into her.

Augustus Waters is a boy who lives for the symbolic and the metaphorical. Take the cigarette, put it between your teeth but never light up, thus taking away the power it has to kill you. Augustus Waters, trying to take back control of his life, one non-puff at a time. Gus is both like and not-like Hazel. He had cancer but has been cancer-free for over a year; he lost half a leg because of the disease but for the most part he sees his life "on a roller coaster that only goes up." His only fear? Oblivion, which is cute and pretentious, but so is Gus. This is a boy who only does something if it's symbolic and metaphorical, after all. Hazel finds this fear of the oblivion silly and tells him so at their first meeting while sitting in the Literal Heart of Jesus: there will come a day when all of humanity is wiped out and everyone and everything will be forgotten. But if this bothers you, just ignore it. That's what everyone else does. Gus is drawn to Hazel instantly but Hazel is more reticent. She wants to just be friends because Hazel sees herself as a grenade, and one day she's going to explode and harm everyone around her. It's her responsibility to lessen the casualties. But as Gus smiles and says, "you keeping your distance from me in no way lessens my feelings for you." And so, a friendship is formed. One of the ways they bond is over the novel "An Imperial Infliction" by one Peter van Houten. Hazel swears by this book; it's her totem that she carries around because it accurately describes what it's like to die but the author is someone still alive, something Hazel responds to as she lives her in-between life. The book ends mid-sentence because that's how life goes, but that doesn't stop Hazel from wishing she knew what happened to the character's friends and family. Sadly, Mr. Houten refuses to speak to his fans and lives a life of solitude in Amsterdam.

The world is not a wish granting factory, but sometimes you do get what you desire. Augustus arranges it so that he, Hazel, and Hazel's mother can visit Amsterdam to speak with Peter van Houten in his home, and hopefully get answers to what happens to family members after someone dies of cancer. Gus does the big bold romantic gestures a lot and you fall in love with him because of it--slowly, and then all at once. Amsterdam is both a success and a failure. On the one hand, Hazel and Gus grow closer and Hazel decides that despite life being a shout into the void, this is the only life she gets and she wants to spend it with Gus. On the other hand, it turns out that Peter van Houten, the man with the answers, is a drunk hack who refuses to speak to the pair or give them any sort of answers. He is, as Hazel so rightly put it, a douchepants.

I am going to stop the plot hashing here because I do not want to spoil the movie. Rather, go see it yourself or read the book or do both! To go any further means giving away some things that are very spoilery and this is a movie/book you should savor without knowing what happens next.

What I Did Not Like 

I have almost nothing to put here. Really. I have maybe 3 very tiny nitpicky things but that's it.

--There was one conversation between Hazel and her dad about the universe that I thought should have been left in, but it's not a reason to hate on the film as a whole.

--If you haven't read the novel, it might be hard to understand what "An Imperial Affliction" is and why Hazel and Gus love it. In the book "The Fault in Our Stars" Hazel uses it a lot as a benchmark of her life. She related to the lead, Anna, quite a bit (something that is important to van Houten as well).  For example, the line "the risen sun too bright in her loosing eyes" is a phrase that Hazel and Gus discuss frequently, but the movie doesn't spend a lot of time focusing on the fictional novel within a fictional novel. I think it works well for the movie if you haven't read the book, but as a book reader, you do notice it.

--This critque is to Hollywood in general: do yourself a favor and find a scholar who can speak Greek and Latin in order to teach your actors how to say things in that language. It is not pronounced "harm-may-sha" it's "harm-ma-tea-ah." It only bothers me as someone who reads Greek and Latin.

What I Liked

--Everything. My sad paltry useless words cannot accurately convey how beautiful this movie was. The movie was an almost word-for-word adaptation of the novel, which is what I was hoping for. Why change something when it works so well? There is a lot of pain in this film, make no mistake. I lost count of the number of times I cried. But if there is one lesson (there are several) in this book/film: that's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.

--Shailene Woodley and Ansel Elgot. Casting for TFIOS needed to be impeccable and it was. When Ansel was cast as Gus Waters, I was very apprehensive. He wasn't quite what I pictured from the book, but he sold it in this film. Clad in leather, with a beautiful smile and kind eyes, but moving through life from metaphor to metaphor, he did it perfectly. Shailene has really proven herself in the past few years of being able to do anything. Her history with the book is well known; she wrote a letter to John Green expressing her love for the novel long before the movie was cast. She brought Hazel to life

--The smaller story line of Isaac was given just enough space to make Isaac a fleshed out character but not to detract from Gus and Hazel. He was also some much needed comic relief without being simply comedic. In particular, I loved the basement scene where Isaac is raging against the world while Hazel and Gus try to have a serious conversation.

--The soundtrack is also really good and I enjoyed seeing the pair in Amsterdam for real.

Overall rating: A

Just go see it. You have no reason not to. This isn't just another YA adaptation. This isn't another life affiriming sick movie. This is something more.
So go see it.

Okay?
Okay.

In Which I Review Maleficent

And yes I know it's true that visions are seldom what they seem...

When I was younger, Sleeping Beauty was a classic favorite. Like most young girls growing up in the middle of the Disney Renascence, I loved the songs and the story and I found Maleficent to be particularly terrifying. To this day, I would still rank her among the scariest Disney villains. The wicked fairy who turned into a larger than life dragon is still quite the iconic image for Disney. The latest venture back into the world of classic stories is another in a long line of revisionist films in which the villain is transformed into a misunderstood anti-hero and the "real" story is told through the eyes of a character who was previously denied a voice in their original tale. The last example, in theaters at least, was Oz the Great and Powerful in which we learned how the Wicked Witch became wicked and of course, Once Upon a Time has been doing the villain into anti-hero into hero take for three seasons now. Most of these ideas are following in the rather large footsteps of Gregory Magurie's "Wicked" saga in which the Wicked Witch of the West is given a name and a voice and a story that cannot be reduced to "ugly witch tries to kill a good girl." Where Maguire succeeds is in his character of Elphaba--that her story is outside of normal anti-hero woman tropes; her love life factors in, but only much later. How she became "evil" is a series of events beginning with her birth. And this is what Disney--be it Oz the Great and Powerful or Maleficent--fails at. They are still stuck in 1959. The moral of this new bright and shiny Maleficent movie? Don't have sex. Sex is bad. Virginity is good. 

Hashing the Plot

I want to do a quick, down and dirty plot explanation before moving into the problems I have with this film--and, to be fair, what I did like about the picture. Be aware that this is NOT spoiler-free. We are told from the first few moments that this is not the story we have been told before, but that what we are about to see is the true version of events. Long ago, there were two kingdoms, the human one and the fairy kingdom (called for some inexplicable reason The Moors). The two kingdoms were incredibly different--the human or "real" kingdom was populated by men who warred and were gluttonous and envious and revengeful. The mythic fairy kingdom--the realm of the divine--was beautiful and glorious, an inner sanctum only accessible by those who were magical and pure themselves. The king of the human land hated the fairies and wished to see them destroyed, but a tentative peace has been established at the start of the film. Inside the divine realm lived a little fairy by the name of Maleficent who was--as you might expect--good and kind and proper. She heals trees and is friends with the various mythic inhabitants that live in her realm. She's also an orphan because this is Disney and all heroes are orphans or have lost at least one parent (no, I'm not kidding. You tell me one famous Disney figure who has both parents living happily with them). When she is still quite young, a human boy wanders past the threshold of the mortal and into the divine. Heads up--in mythology, transgression into the divine never ends well.

The young boy--who is also an orphan, shockingly enough--is named Stephan and he and Maleficent become fast friends as children. Stephan visits Maleficent and the divine realm often and as they grow up together, the nature of their relationship changes. Before her 16th birthday, Stephan gives Maleficent a kiss and tells her, it is a true love's kiss. But Stephan, being a mortal boy, goes back to the mortal world to seek out his fame and fortune and gradually he begins to visit the divine realm and Maleficent less and less. But don't worry, Maleficent just gets over him. No, I'm just kidding, of course she doesn't. Because all women are weak and silly and the only thing that could possibly make them interesting is a man. But I'll come back to this later. For reasons that don't make a lot of sense, the king of the human world decides to go to war with the divine realm, which is now under the protection of Maleficent herself. The two sides engage in battle and Maleficent decimates the king's army using the Ent's from Tolkein. Well, at least that's what they look like. At the same time, she does some harmful damage to the king and the king is now at death's door. The king has no heir, only a daughter (and women are weak and foolish and cannot rule without a man), so he promises to marry of his child to the man who can kill Maleficent and bring back proof. Stephan, during all this, has become a close ally to the king, though we do not know how an orphan boy with no money or skills or talents ended up being the servant to the king. Stephan has grown ambitious in his years away from the divine and so seeks out to kill his former friend, Maleficent.

Stephan returns to the divine realm, bearing a sleeping potion. After he has lulled Maleficent into a false sense of security, he gives her the drink that will put her under and then takes out his knife, determined to end her life. But at the last second, he cannot do it, so instead, he violently removes her wings and leaves her in the woods. And yes, you are supposed to read this as sexual and yes, to be technical and CORRECT, it's a metaphorical rape and a loss of innocence. Maleficent awakens in pain and grieving for her lost wings but also her lost love who has betrayed her. This sexual awakening and trauma changes Maleficent and she determines to seek revenge on Stephan. Because Maleficent has changed, the divine realm changes. It grows dark and gloomy and the creatures grow fearful of their new dark queen, who is the Mistress of All Evil. Because she can no longer fly, Maleficent saves a raven from death and the raven swears allegiance to Maleficent, and can now turn from raven to man at Maleficent's will. After a short period of time, Stephan and the new Queen have a baby girl and there is to be a celebration in the kingdom.

From here, the film is incredibly derivative of the Disney animated classic and so this is going to go fairly quickly. At the party, Maleficent shows up and curses baby Aurora--on the babe's 16th birthday, she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a death like sleep, never to be awoken except by True Love's Kiss, which Maleficent does not believe exists after Stephan's betrayal. Fearing for their child's safety, baby Aurora is sent to live with the three good (and incredibly annoying) fairies in a remote part of the forest until they day after her 16th birthday. The child grows up unaware of who she really is, and the whole time Maleficent stands guard over the child, watching. Because the fairies are incredibly ignorant on the ways of child-rearing, Maleficent finds herself, more often than not, taking care of Aurora and she comes to care for the child to the point where Maleficent tries to remove the curse, unsuccessfully. Maleficent and Aurora grow closer and Aurora wishes to come live with Maleficent in the Moors, which prospers once again under Aurora's hands (cause virginity is good and the divine can only be handled by the sacred feminine). But when Aurora learns her true identity, she returns to Stephan's castle. Stephan has become increasingly paranoid and has no reaction to his daughter except to lock her up. There, driven by the curse laid upon her, Aurora stumbles across a room full of spinning wheels and pricks her finger, thus subcumming to the a death-like sleep.

Prince Philip, a totally colorless character if ever there was one, tries unsuccessfully to wake the Sleeping Beauty. But there appears to be no hope for poor Princess Aurora when Philip's lips fail. Maleficent, overcome by grief that she could not stop the curse, promises the sleeping girl that she will stand guard over her and let no harm fall upon her. And then Emma Maleficent gives Henry Aurora a kiss on the forehead and the curse breaks because there is nothing more powerful than a mother's love (we get it Disney. You like Once Upon a Time and Once Upon a Time likes you. You're glad that they have decided to fan-wank to you for the past three seasons. You don't need to pay homage to a show that pays homage to you. It's redundant). The mother-daughter pair try to leave only to be stopped by Stephan who is determined to kill Maleficent once and for all. Maleficent turns her raven into a dragon and there is a very loud battle. Whilst this happens, Aurora stumbled upon the room in which Stephan has kept Maleficent's wings, locked in a cage, but apparently still working. Aurora frees the wings, which return to Maleficent and she defeats Stephan. Crisis resolved, Aurora unites the kingdom and they all live happily ever after. 

What I Liked

 --The visuals ARE stunning. There's no denying that most of the budge for this film went into making it as beautiful as possible. The land of the fairies is exactly what you think it will be, full of color and life and a sort of dream-like mythic reality that humanity can never hope to penetrate. There are some instances where I thought it was a little much, as if they threw in color and light just for the sake of it.

--Angelina Jolie was born to play this role. When this movie was announced and you heard who would play the lead, I bet most of you said, "of course." She is deliciously wicked and broken in the role. She wears the leather costumes with ease and those prosthetic cheekbones fit her to a T. You can tell that Jolie had a lot of fun with this role, really sinking her teeth into doing some good ol' fashioned scene chewing.

--The costumes are to die for. Or at least Maleficent's are. The snake skin horned head wrap is stunning and I imagine there will be an Oscar nomination for the film's costuming department. The costuming for Aurora is perfunctory; it gets the job done. The princess is rendered in soft virginal hues of pink, peach, gold, and blue.

--The curse scene was the best in the film. Straight up Disney brought to life, and I'm not going to complain. Jolie had a ton of fun filming that one, and it works for her. 

What I Didn't Like

--Let's talk about sex. This movie is predicated on the fact that sex is wrong and virginity is to be celebrated. I gave this deceleration to my mother as we left the theater, to which she responded "what?!" What essentially happens to Maleficent, her driving motive for the whole film, is a loss of sexual innocence and purity. The removal of her wings as she sleeps is a stand in for both the wedding night and, as I mentioned, rape. It is this incident that turns Maleficent into the mistress of all evil; while she was still virginal and pure, even though she knew the ways of the world and the wickedness of man, she was still "good." The writer of this film decided that they only way to make Maleficent an interesting character was through sex, motherhood, and most damning of all, a man. Once she meets Stephan, her entire center becomes the love she bears for this man. We are told nothing about her life in between Stephan's visits, only that when he is gone, she mourns for him. And when he robs her of her sexual power--takes her divine feminine--she becomes a leather clad, staff wielding, baddie. The land of the divine, the fairy land, becomes dark and sinister, thorns overtaking the flowers and peaceful nature because Maleficent has lost her heart (and virginity). The woodland creatures live in fear of what Maleficent has become, a sexually aware woman who's entire modus operandi is focused on a man. Now, I am not trying to diminish rape even in the slightest, but this movie is one giant fail of the Bechdel test because everything revolves around a man: be it the dying and vengeful king; young boy Stephan; teenage heartthrob Stephan; horrible father Stephan; and crazed Stephan who must die. You almost expect Maleficent to pull out a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and her Adele "21" CD and sing "Someone Like You."  It is only when Maleficent if gifted her sexual power back--in the form of her divine angelic wings--does she manage to conquer the man who stole it from her in the first place.

The only time a man is not in control? Virginal Aurora. Philip is reduced to a side character who has maybe 10 lines, which is ironic given that the Disney animated film is really his story, not Sleeping Beauty's. Aurora is the perpetual virgin queen that was promised, if not on film than in the mythic reality in which this film operates and from the archetypal world from which it draws. True love's kiss from a man does not work on Aurora, her father has little emotional effect on her, and in the end we aren't sure what the status of Philip and Aurora even are. When Aurora enters the fairy land, it springs to life in the wake of her purity and innocence. The final shot of the film is Aurora, bathed in gold (the same color, mind of you, of the divine light that radiates from Maleficent's wings once they are returned to her) being crowned queen of both the mortal and the divine realm. Philip is there but only in the last few seconds, and the movie leave it vague what their relationship is. Are they to be friends as once Maleficent and Stephan were, thereby breaking the violent cycle? Are they to be lovers? Partners? We are not sure. Disney canon will, of course, say that they are lovers and will be wed, but Disney canon also said that Philip's true love kiss would wake Aurora from her curse. Aurora is not made the queen of the realms because she is a good ruler or even because she has a strict "right" to them (the mortal one perhaps though that is complicated since the sexist overtones of the movie make it impossible to believe that the kingdom would let a woman rule, but not the divine. Maleficent was the ruler because she was the "best" of them all). Aurora rules because she is the essence of purity and sexual innocence. Her interactions with Philip, when they meet, are timid and shy; she can barely speak to him.She is the perfect example of being demurely feminine.

What saves Maleficent, in the end, is motherhood, not that evil and revenge are wrong, because she has no problem still going after Stephan. When Aurora is still a screaming babe, and the fairies are too inept to take care of her, Maleficent sends the raven to the baby with a milk flower from which Aurora suckles. It may be through a middle man, but Maleficent gives the baby suck, which is something that is not even subtly about motherhood. While I understand that THIS is the new take on the Sleeping Beauty story, it's not new. It's the same idea you would have found in 1950s and 1960s Disney and outside Disney. Women are saved because their nature is to be nurturing mothers who love their children. I don't want to call it propaganda but Maleficent's entire center is first based on sexual loss and then on being a mother, or, if you want to get rather un-puritanical, grin and bear your husbands affections because your children are your reward.  And if you want to extend this metaphor, consider this: Aurora is played by several younger actresses until Elle Fanning takes over. The actress who plays the 2-3 yr old Aurora? Jolie's own daughter.

It's a bit un-post modern and it's not really revisionist: the only way for a woman to be powerful is to be either a virgin (Aurora) or a mother (Maleficent), though the virgin clearly trumps all. In a way, Maleficent becomes the Sleeping Beauty who who has something taken from her and only returned through true love. There are a few images that reinforce what I've been saying that I'll just touch on them quickly: the potion Stephan gives Maleficent is blood red and we only see it steadily dripping on to the ground like the blood that would have occurred during the breaking of the hymen; the metaphor is taken further by the wings being on display, like a bloody sheet that would have been hung up to prove that a marriage was consummated. There is a lot of phallic imagery, from the way Stephan constantly weilds his knife, to the many swords used to take down Maleficent to the staff Maleficent uses after the assault as a crutch (metaphor alert: Maleficent uses the representation of the male sex organ because her own sexual power has been taken!). I suspect some will claim that Maleficent gets her sexual power back (her wings) and thus defeats Stephan but I find his problematic for two reasons. First, Maleficent does not retrieve her wings, they are given back to her by Aurora. And second, even with her recovered wings, Maleficent can not be the queen of the divine realm; that position now belongs to virginal Aurora.

--Aurora. Oh boy, where to start? Well, for one, they kept her very Disney-fied. She's a simpering moron with little to say or do. Elle Fanning's job in this movie to be pretty. She is to stand quietly and smile and look pretty. Like in Disney, she is granted gifts from the fairies: beauty and grace. Because that is all a woman is supposed to offer this world, I suppose. A true revision would have given her some smarts so she didn't do idiotic things like think the leather clad woman with horns was her fairy godmother (not kidding).  I suppose since all that was required was to be pretty, she did it well. You can add Philip to this list as well as an essentially useless character who's role was to simply be there because nostalgia dictates it.

--The three fairies, who were the best part of the Disney move, are incredibly annoying and shrill. They are the comic relief of the film and spend more time shrieking and fighting with each other than they do anything else. In the Disney film, they are actually quite helpful and powerful. Another case of turning women into simpering idiots, I suppose.

--A lot of quiet moments of no action or advancement. Now, I complimented Jolie in this role and I meant it. But too much of this film is the director having Maleficent sitting or standing and simply looking. She spends a lot of time watching and gazing and the director takes advantage of Jolie's looks and makeup and costuming to find ways to light her and angle his camera to capture her beauty. It was fine the first few times because she does look incredible, but after awhile, I began to get annoyed with the constant close ups and focus on her cheekbones and eyes. 

--Maleficent doesn't turn into a dragon. I am going to repeat that. Maleficent doesn't turn into a dragon. Good lord--even ONCE got that part right!

Over all grade and thoughts:  I'm going to give it a C. The film is visually stunning and Jolie is divine looking in the costuming. But the not so revisionist "revision" and really sexist plot line take away a lot of the enjoyment I expected from this film. There is little in the way of laughter, though the film tries with the three fairies and occasionally the raven, who was a good character if very underused.  It's a very short film, for a summer flick, so it may be worth the money to go see it, but I'd wait until your local theater offers cheaper tickets.