Maybe it’s me. Maybe I just shouldn’t be allowed near CGI animated dinosaur films. I don’t know why this particular mircogenre of movies manages to so consistently stick in my damn craw. I, of course, have Dinosaursitting proudly at the very bottom of my rankings of the Disney canon and I have every hope that it will remain that way for a long time.
And I would still gladly watch Dinosaur over TheGood Dinosaur. Mainly because, I can at least watch Dinosaur from beginning to end. The Good Dinosaur is the second last movie on my requested reviews because I have put it off over and over and over again. I cannot finish this thing. It bores the piss out of me.
But, before we crack on, I want to explain why I’m not doing a full plot recap for this one.
Still not entirely sure this isn’t my wife pulling off an amazingly ambitious prank.
3. This movie has practically no plot to recap.
4. Disney Plus was dicking me around something fierce, constantly crashing and freezing and making the experience of watching this movie even more interminable than normal. This, by the way, was also during Kimmelnacht so you can understand why I was eyeing my Disney Plus subscription with a steely eye and whispering…
So, not a recap, more a series of observations about why this fucking movie annoys me so much.
Old lags on this blog know, from my review of Disney’s Peter Panwritten way back in the Hadean Epoch, that JM Barrie’s Peter and Wendy is one of my favourite books of all time. By a strange coincidence, I recently finished reading it to Mini-Mouse (my first full read-through in around fifteen years) and I was once more struck by how achingly beautiful it is purely as a piece of writing.
Look at this passage describing Hook’s ship:
One green light squinting over Kidd’s Creek, which is near the mouth of the pirate river, marked where the brig, the Jolly Roger, lay, low in the water; a rakish-looking craft foul to the hull, every beam in her detestable, like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was the cannibal of the seas, and scarce needed that watchful eye, for she floated immune in the horror of her name.
Now, I’m not normally one to gush about editions of books and what not. If it’s a good story, I don’t tend to care about the packaging. But I do make a special exception for my copy of Peter Pan.
The Everyman Children’s Classics edition with illustrations by F.D. Bedford. I got this one Christmas many years ago and it’s always been indescribably special to me.
When I see a bad adaptation of Peter Pan, it feels I leant this book to someone and got it back torn, stained and with obscene notes scribbled on every page.
I feel angry and appalled and betrayed.
Watching Pan, however, felt like I leant this book to someone and they put it in a shredder and painstakingly re-arranged the shreds into a diorama depicting the Conference of Versailles.
Now we’re waaaaaay past angry. Now I’m just baffled and confused.
You know that old saw about walking down a beach that represents the different times of your life and seeing God’s footprints beside yours? I kinda feel that way about animator Phil Nibbelink.
I knew it not, but he was there during The Fox and the Hound, The Black Cauldron, The Great Mouse Detective, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Oliver & Company and American Tail: Fievel Goes West. Nibbelink worked on all those films and many others. This is a guy who has spent years at the very top echelon of American animation. And, around the turn of the millennium he and his wife formed Phil Nibbelink Productions to make their own independent animation without having to debase themselves before the Hollywood suits. This, mind you, puts me in a hell of a bind.
Because, I want to like Romeo & Juliet (Sealed with a Kiss) very much. This is an independent feature length film animated entirely by one possibly insane man. Nibbelink drew every cel of this. Himself. On a goddamn tablet. Over four years. That is, by any metric, an absolutely phenomenal achievement. Simply by dint of existing this film deserves a standing ovation and as many panties flung at the stage as can be thrown without damaging the structural integrity of the theatre. The movie is amazing. Incredible. Unbelievable. But is it good?
Something I’ve come to realise is that most people only have the time and energy to get really good at one thing, if they even manage that. Nibbelink is a phenomenal animator. Now, I could show you scenes from Sealed with a Kiss, and you probably would not be that impressed. And yes, the models are extremely basic and the animation is around the level of a mid-budget TV animation. But again, this is one man doing this with next to no resources and the fact that everything moves smoothly and crisply and stays on model is a goddamn miracle. So make no mistake, when it comes to animation Nibbelink is a powerhouse. But making a movie requires him to be not just an animator but a director, screenwriter, casting agent and editor. And, like I said, most people can only be very good at one thing.
Watching this thing, part of me was saying to myself “oh, like you could do better?” and another part was answering:
I think, first and foremost, I’d have had the sense to recognise that the play about the 16 year old who seduces a 13 year old, kills two people and then commits suicide right before the 13 year old stabs herself to death on his corpse is maybe not the best source material for an all ages cartoon.
Titus Andronicus, now THERE’S fun for all the family.
“Hey, what if cartoons, like, had sex?” is actually not as new a question as you might think. The cartoons have actually, like, having sex far longer than many people realise, with the first pornographic animations appearing at least four years before Micky Mouse did Steamboat Willy (which was not a porno which now seems like a bit of a missed opportunity).
But, while there has been sexually explicit animation for almost as long as there has been animation, it was always restricted to “stag” films. The mainstream perception of animation in the West, especially after the Hays office started cracking skulls, was that cartoons were for children.
Enter Ralph Bakshi.
Okay, if you’re a longtime reader of this blog then this isn’t your first rodeo. We have discussedhis workhere many a time and oft. Short version: Ralph Bakshi is at once a towering and transformative figure in the history of American animation and also kind of a terrible animator and film-maker. I can’t say I have actually enjoyed any of his films, but his best work tends to be the kind of grungy, ugly, politics-heavy film-making that you aren’t really supposed to enjoy. And, at least, Bakshi at his best his never boring.
No, you want really bad Bakshi you got to look at his tamer stuff. Either because he was taming himself to try and appeal to a broader audience (like Wizards) or because the studio held him down and cut his hair and forced him to conform to their, like, rules, maaaaan (like this fucking thing we’re about to review right here).
I will not mince words. This is the last of all Ralph Bakshi’s feature animations. I say “last” as in “last one he made” as well as “if all his movies were in a race, this is the one that wouldn’t even cross the finish line because it ate its own legs.”
This movie had a troubled history in the same way like, the Balkans, have had a troubled history and it’s easy to just blame the studio. In 1988 Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, gave Disney their biggest hit in history up to the that point, due in no small part to the instantly iconic appearance of Sexiest Cartoon of All Time Jessica Rabbit. Ralph Bakshi decided that, as the grandfather of sexy cartoons, the time had come for selling out. Bakshi approached Paramount and pitched them a dark cartoon horror story about a live action human who has sex with a cartoon woman and fathers a demonic half-human/half-toon child. Paramount greenlit the movie but forced Bakshi to cast Kim Basinger as the cartoon woman. Basinger wanted a more family friendly movie which led to the studio and Bakshi butting heads and resulting in the deeply compromised, barely coherent mess of a movie that we were left with. Everything that could go wrong with this movie did go wrong. Paramount launched a raunchy marketing campaign that completely oversold the limp PG 13 offering as some kind of taboo shattering sex-fest and then pretty much bribed the City of Los Angeles to allow them to descerate the Hollywood sign with a 75 foot cutout of Basinger’s character, Holly Would, which brought a hurricane of negative publicity.
What kind of monster would try and make the Hollywood sign TACKY?
Savage critical reaction and utterly abysmal word of mouth did the rest.
As I said, it’s easy to read that and assume that Bakshi was just another brilliant creative screwed over by the soulless suits but you know me. I never do things the easy way. Frankly, I think this project was doomed the second Ralph Bakshi thought he could do his own Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
See, the animation on Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was overseen by Richard Williams who I would probably rank as the single most brilliant animator I have ever had the pleasure of reviewing if Hayao Miyazaki didn’t exist. And one of the reasons why Roger Rabbit works so well (apart from the fantastic script, excellent direction, phenomenal world-building, perfect score, terrifying villain, a career best performance from the late great Bob Hoskins and Jessica Fucking Rabbit ushering an entire generation into sexual awakening) was that there was literally nothing Williams could not do as an animator. That movie has characters from eight different animation studios from across three decades and they’re all rendered flawlessly. That movie is like Once Upon a Studiobut without the benefit of modern technology and feature length. That’s Richard Williams. That’s the guy.
I don’t actually think it’s possible to be a little boy between the ages of 4 and 8 who is aware of Superman and not a fan of Superman. It’s like Star Wars or Transformers. You see this:
And something in your little boy soul just chimes.
So I don’t think there was ever a time where I wasn’t a fan of Superman but as I’ve gotten older I’ve certainly become more of a fan. And I have to say, on behalf of my tribe, it’s a pretty good time to be an enjoyer of Clark Kent. James Gunn is going to be bringing us a new Superman movie next year, both Superman and Action Comics have been enjoying high-quality, well-received runs and My Adventures with Superman is, in my humble opinion, the single best animated depiction of the character since the Fleischer Shortsof the forties. Yes. Better than Superman the Animated Series and Justice League Unlimited. No, I will not take that back.
My point is things are good now. We’ve come along way from…y’know.
Fuck. There really was a time there when the guy most responsible for shaping Superman’s presentation to the wider world was Zack Snyder.
Future generations won’t believe it. But I was there. It happened.
Alright, let me pull back a little bit. I know you’ve probably clicked on this hoping for some classic, old-school mid-2010s internet rage with all manner of inventive profanity and performative outrage and I won’t lie, I’m not too proud to dance. BUT I want to draw a line in the sand here and make one thing clear.
I don’t hate Zack Snyder either personally or artistically. He is, by all accounts, a lovely guy and the loyalty that he inspires in the actors who have worked with him is genuinely touching. I can’t say I understand the devotion that fans of his movies have to his work but I don’t for a minute doubt its sincerity. People do genuinely, passionately adore his films and respond to them and that can’t be ignored. This is not some studio hack. This is a man who produces works that people respond to strongly, both positively and negatively. This is an artist.
He should not be allowed near Superman. Ever.
He does not understand the character and he does not understand why he matters.
I realise that this is going to come across as just…foam-flecked fanboy ranting but please hear me out. This character is important in a way that very, very few fictional characters are or ever will be. Remember what I said about how every little boy just, instinctively loves Superman?
Okay. Now you may have heard Superman described as a power fantasy for little boys. And to that I say “yes, absolutely he is” and also “why the fuck are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”
If Superman is a fantasy, what exactly is the fantasy?: “I want to be an all-powerful demi-god so that I can…devote every free moment of my time to protecting and helping those who have less power than me”?
So…you have generations of young boys who will grow up in a world where they will have disproportionate power (of many kinds) over others being influenced by this character and his worldview, modelling behaviours of selflessness, compassion, kindness and justice. You see why that might be, I dunno, a very, very good thing?
Now here is a quote from Zack Snyder (he’s actually responding to criticism about Batman killing people in his movies but it’s also relevant when discussing his approach to Superman):
“Once you’ve like lost your virginity to this f**king movie and then you come and say to me something about ‘oh, my superhero wouldn’t do that’, I’m like ‘are you serious?’ because I’m down the f**king road on that.
“It’s a cool point of view to be like: ‘My heroes are still innocent. My heroes didn’t f**king lie to America. My heroes didn’t embezzle money. My heroes didn’t commit any atrocities.’
“That’s cool, but you’re living in a f**king dream world, okay?”
And yes, I know juxtaposing that quote with that dialogue from What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice and the American Way has been done so many times it’s cliché at this point but…I wanted to do it and it made me feel good and it’s my blog so there.
Zack Snyder claims that his approach to comics is rooted in Alan Moore’s Watchmen and sure, Moore did deconstruct the tropes of comic books and created superheroes who were deeply, deeply flawed people. But you know what he didn’t do? He didn’t try that shit with Superman.
Moore didn’t write a lot of Superman stories but the ones he did featured some of the very noblest, most selfless versions of the character.
Moore gets what makes Superman important, and that it is not something to fuck with.
Hell, even Mark Millar and Garth Ennis, the two patron saints of the Shitty Edgelord school of superhero comics. You give them Superman, this is how they write him:
Superman is so fucking good the guy who wrote The Boys can’t hate him.
Anyway.
Hello, welcome to my regular series of movie reviews where I talk about Batman.
So, what’s next on the old docket? Why what’s this? A canon Disney movie? One of the films that this very blog was established to review?
Why, this is something of an occasion! Maybe we’ll have lots of cameos from long running characters like The Horned King or Walt Disney himself? Maybe a long and overly complicated kidnapping arc? Might Otto Von Bismarck appear? He bloody might!
“Mouse, quit stalling, I’ve got fifty bucks on you giving this shitpile a good review just to be contrarian.”
“Then you, sir, just lost fifty bucks and my respect.”
But before surgery commences, I want to talk about conspiracy theories.
Conspiracy Theories, counter-intuitively, are a way to make the world seem less scary, to make sense of an otherwise terrifyingly random existence.
To many Americans, the idea that a shadowy cabal within the US government would kill a sitting president of the United States was actually a less unsettling prospect than the idea that some random nutjob could decide to kill the most powerful man on Earth and just…do it.
Or that a lunatic fundamentalist in a cave with a few followers and some bolt cutters could have handed the US its most devastating attack on home soil since Pearl Harbour. Or that…a majority of Americans just didn’t think that Donald Trump should get another term.
Which is why, if you’re about to get angry at me for bringing up the extremely well known conspiracy theory that Wish was either wholly or partly the creation of generative AI, I think you’re missing the point. To understand a conspiracy theory’s appeal, you have to look not at the theory itself but the reality that it would replace if it were true. People want to believe that Wish is AI generated because it’s less scary than believing that this is just the kind of film that Disney’s creative process produces now.
Recently I gave an interview for a podcast where we discussed how the publishing industry is becoming totally, crushingly data driven and where books are increasingly commissioned, marketed and read for and by micro-targeted audiences. Books are becoming products rather than pieces of art, not something the artist wrote because they cared about it but because the algorithim says that Becky in Minnesota is jonsing for an enemies-to-lovers mafia werewolf story. And this isn’t just limited to publishing, the whole entertainment industry is sick with it.
So I know why so many people believe this theory is true*, because the reality is actually scarier. The same market and technological forces that make AI art so…off are now infecting even human created art. The machines aren’t just getting more human-like. We’re meeting them in the middle.
In the past I’ve had plenty of opportunities to extol my favourite film critic, Tim Brayton over at Alternate Ending and now is as good a time as any to re-up. Check him out if you haven’t already. He’s a fantastic critic and an inspiration and so it is with a certain bitter-sweet melancholy that I must report that I have at last surpassed him.
Not in terms of quality of analysis or wit of writing, fuck no, I’m not insane. But you see, Tim actually reviews movies roughly when they come out, like some kind of freak with a work ethic, where as I review movies when I feel like it, maaan.
But today represents the first time I’m aware of where I actually beat him to the punch. My The Marvels review has come out before his The Marvels review, a victory whose sweetness is only slightly mitigated by the fact that I’m not entirely sure he intends to actually review this movie, a fact that is both completely understandable and quite damning.
A major critic not reviewing the latest installment of the MCU? How can this be?
It’s like that moment during the trial of Charles the First where the top fell off his cane and no one bent down to pick it up for him. In that moment, he knew he was king no more and also possibly that he was about to get a pretty aggressive haircut.
And look, I wanted to like this one. I want to like every movie I sit down to review. I love a good comeback story as much as anyone. And I had actually heard positive rumblings that this movie was far better than its paltry box-office and mediocre critical reception would suggest. I was even told it was something of an overlooked gem. Who told me that? In retrospect, fools. The movie is (mostly) trash.
Look, we all like to make fun of Disney and their utterly shameless milking of their beloved animated classics with cheap and tawdry cash ins. But give them this; even during the height of the direct-to-video boom after Return of Jafar had proved that cheap sequels to big-name animated features were basically a licence to print money, they never went to the same well more than twice. Okay, twice and a tv series. That was it. Three movies and a TV series, MAX. No more. They had standards. Allegedly.
I love how it says “An All New Movie”. Isn’t every movie an all new movie?
Of course, Disney had a very large stable of properties to exploit. But what if you had a studio that
a) Really wanted to get in on that cheap direct-to-video cartoon action.
b) Had a very, very small pool of household name animation to sequelise and
c) Had absolutely zero shame?
Well…you’d get the cinematic donkey-show that was Universal’s Land Before Time franchise. Now, Land Before Time was a pretty damn good film and it did, y’know…decent at the box office. It opened at No 1. But it also lost to Oliver and Companyin terms of overall ticket sales. So…fine, but nothing to crow about either.
Certainly, it did not do the kind of numbers that would justify 13 GODDAMN SEQUELS. THIRTEEN.
ONE. THREE.
AND A MOTHERFUCKING TV SHOW.
Now, I am not going to review every single one of them, that’s why God made Jenny Nicholson. I’m just here to review The Land Before Time XIII: The Wisdom of Friends, the second last entry in the series and, by all accounts, the worst of the bunch (because my readers think I’m a bad person and wish me harm).
However!
We can’t just dive in after an eleven movie gap without being hopelessly lost so I have set my team of extremely well-paid maps to work on a breakdown of everything that happens in this series between the first and thirteenth installements.
The Land Before Time II: The Great Valley Adventure
The gang must fight to protect their new home when Sharpteeth find a way into the Great Valley.
The Land Before Time III: The Time of Great Giving
When a sudden shortage of water threatens all life in the Great Valley, the gang of young dinosaurs must cooperate with a group of bullies to make a risky journey outside the valley and find the cause.
The Land Before Time IV: The Quest for Peace
The gang decide to rid the valley of nuclear weapons.
The Land Before Time V: The Final Frontier
Littlefoot’s previously unknown half-brother appears in the Great Valley, and he’s on a mission from God.
The Land Before Time VI:
In an attempt to save their failing marriage, Littlefoot and Cera open a bistro in Milan.
The Land Before Time VII: Long Hard Neck
The series’ one brave, but ultimately misjudged, entry into the genre of hardcore pornography.
The Land Before Time VIII: Littlefoot versus Godzilla
The no-brainer crossover that couldn’t fail. Actually failed quite a bit.
The Land Before Time IX: Please No More
Clip show.
The Land Before Time X: Tokyo Drift
In order to avoid a prison sentence, Littlefoot becomes a drag racer.
The Land Before Time XI: Ultimate Betrayal
The gang are shocked to learn that Spike was working for Internal Affairs the whole time.
The Land Before Time XII: Time Arrives
The gang have to adjust to living in a land that has time now where they can actually age and die. Directed by Werner Herzog. Harrowingly bleak.
I went in to this full of kindness and forgiveness in my heart.
I was prepared to embrace this movie like a loving father welcoming back the wayward prodigal. Of course this movie isn’t as bad as everyone says. Of course it’s really a delightfully camp romp. Of course the backlash was just a combination of toxic fanboy insecurity and subtle and not so subtle homophobia.
And this fucking movie turned and sank its fangs into me like a snake in a parable.
Yup. I was wrong. I dunno what I was thinking.
Conventional wisdom is always right and independant thoughts are weird and stupid.
Batman and Robin really is that goddamn bad.
I know, I know. Great to be back here on Planet Sensible. I don’t know why I ever fooled myself into thinking that this movie was So Bad it’s Good rather than regular old So Bad it’s Actually Bad. But rest assured, this is no Rocky Horror Picture Show. This movie is not fun, and it’s not even camp. It’s a grindingly cynical and mechanical attempt to be fun and camp and it fails utterly.
Alright, firstly I want to discuss a resolution that I’ve made. Like many movie critics (and after eleven years that still feels presumptuous to say, thank you imposter syndrome) I’ve noted that the CGI in Marvel’s recent output has been of inconsistent quality. This inevitably comes across as a criticism of the VFX artists who worked on these films, which is horribly unfair. As has become more and more clear in recent years, the problem is not with the artists but with Disney’s tendency to over-work their artists while micromanaging every visual aspect of their films to the point that the effects teams often have very little time to do their work to the standard they would ideally like. So, I’m no longer going to say “the CGI is shit” in these reviews. Instead I will say “the studio is shit”, just so we all know who’s really at fault here.
Will I have cause to make use of this new paradigm when reviewing Ant-Man 3?
unshavedmouse 