'Crazy Heart' review: Wrestler lite

In one of the very first shots of 'Crazy Heart' Jeff Bridges tells us that he hates bowling. As good as it is to see him revisit the bowling alley here he is, of course, being "very un-dude" and making it clear from the outset that his Oscar-winning turn as an alcoholic, down-on-his-luck, country singer known as Bad Blake is different from his now iconic turn in ‘The Big Lebowski’. Indeed, Bad Blake is not so easy going and, more importantly, he is less content with his lot in life, harbouring bitterness that he is poor and playing to small crowds whilst the younger Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell) enjoys far greater success.

Much like other recent films about musicians (such as ‘Nowhere Boy’, ‘Dreamgirls’ or ‘Walk the Line’) ‘Crazy Heart’ is at its most effective when conveying the energy of live performance, with Jeff Bridges and Colin Farrell impressing greatly as singers. I am not a fan of country music by any means, but ‘Crazy Heart’ manages to convincingly show us country music as something approaching white blues music rather than Billy Ray Cyrus-style cheese. Credit for this must go to T-Bone Burnett, who wrote many of the songs in Bad Blake’s repertoire, all of which convince as the memorable country standards we are told they have become within the film. Bridges is an electric presence as Blake on stage, and a duet with Tommy Sweet at the film’s midway point is arguably the film’s highlight (I wanted to cheer at its conclusion as though I were at a real concert).

The second half of the film, which concerns Blake’s relationship with a young, single-mum called Jean (played by Maggie Gyllenhaal), is much less appealing as it pulls us away from the stage and into movie cliché territory. Jean castigates Blake at one point by saying that he’s let her down like every man has before, which made me cringe, whilst (potential spoiler) Blake easily overcomes his years of alcoholism within two scenes late in the film. ‘Crazy Heart’ also presents Jean as a typical Hollywood movie single mum, in that despite the fact she has a fairly low income job (as a local journalist) she owns a pretty nice house and has no problem juggling a career with providing for her son (in a way reminiscent of Rene Zellweger’s character in ‘Jerry Maguire’). Blake’s poverty is similarly non-existent as, despite the fact that he tells us early on that he has ten dollars to his name; he also seems to get along fairly comfortably. America, it seems, is a good place to be poor.



This lack of any social realist elements is perhaps the film’s main problem, as whilst Aronofsky’s ‘The Wrestler’ deals with many of the same themes and issues as ‘Crazy Heart’ (right down to the detail that both include a plot thread about an estranged father begging for redemption), it does so with a cynicism and a seedy, gritty edge, which is lacking here. One interesting scene cuts between Blake’s fairly simple abode and the glamorous home of his LA agent, as they speak on the telephone, but whilst the contrast raises interesting questions about Blake’s exploitation (again like ‘The Wrestler’) none of these are really answered.

In the end (major spoiler) Blake gets sober, writes a big song and makes a ton of money, with one of the films closing scenes featuring Blake in happy conversation with his agent, who it seems has the right idea about life: in ‘Crazy Heart’ Blake’s lack of success is his own fault and when he changes his outlook, he becomes free to set about living the American Dream which is (as always) purely financial. Mickey Rourke’s wrestler is spat out, exploited and abused by American society which lets him down just as much as his own messed-up personality. ‘Crazy Heart’ is the more palatable film for audiences, but it is arguably a less honest one for it.

In fairness, the first half of ‘Crazy Heart’ was one of the most enjoyable times I have had in a cinema this year so far. Whatever its flaws, the film boasts a great soundtrack, some stunning performances and has provided one of my favourite actors with a plethora of well-deserved awards. If you are a fan of Jeff Bridges or country music and want to watch a lighter, less socially conscious version of ‘The Wrestler’, then ‘Crazy Heart’ is the film for you!

'Crazy Heart' is still playing across the country and until this Thursday at the Duke of York's in Brighton. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.

'The Father of My Children' review: Film Un Certain Regard

This review may contain a SPOILER for those who don’t know the story on which this film is loosely based.

'The Father of My Children' is a new French drama by the promising young director Mia Hansen-Løve. The film won the Un Certain Regard award at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, which is (apparently) granted to "recognize young talent, and to encourage innovative and daring works by presenting one of the films with a grant to aid its distribution in France" (thank you Wikipedia). The film itself is loosely based on the life and tragic death by suicide of the producer Humbert Balsan, who, in his last years, struggled with depression and the threat of bankruptcy. Hansen- Løve was given her directoral break by Balsan and possibly due to this decides to tell his story at a respectful distance: all the specific details have been changed with this account being presented as completely fictional. Yet, to anyone who knows about Humbert Balsan, many figures and events from his life have obvious analogues here.

‘The Father of My Children’ is certainly an accomplished piece of work. The performance of Louis-Do de Lencquesaing as Grégoire (the producer and titular father) is everything it must be. Afterall, it is said (more than once) within the film that his character is charming and charismatic, which he certainly manages to be. He is also warm and funny in the scenes with his children (the eldest of which is played superbly and with real intensity and intelligence by his real life daughter Alice), and this is perhaps the most crucial part of the film. But he is also equally adept at getting across the sense of depression and desperation crucial to understanding the character's eventual suicide.

However, the real stars of this film are the two actresses who play Grégoire’s two younger daughters, Alice Gautier and Manelle Driss. These girls are really natural on screen and provide some really great comic moments as well as helping to ensure the film accurately captures the atmosphere of a family at play. My favourite scene involved these two staging a play in the living room for their parents (in that way little children do) which really captures a sense of pure joy. The film gets things like this absolutely right. Another scene I loved sees the eldest daughter (Alice de Lencquesaing) ordering a coffee in a cafe, only to get embarrassed by all the choices and revert to hot chocolate. It was a wonderful moment that seemed familiar to me, and also said a lot about the character as a girl on the verge of being a gown-up with choices to make and coffee to drink.



The film also manages to tell a story that often goes untold in cinema: that of the sympathetic producer who cares deeply about cinema and wants to make films of artistic worth. Unlike many on screen money men, Grégoire is not brash or calculating and instead we are placed in the position of feeling that his directors, who fail to work to budgets and ultimately cause him to face bankruptcy, are exploitative and often unsympathetic characters.

The pivotal sequence that leads up to Grégoire’s suicide is truly inspired, with the event itself serving as the film’s most poignant image and as a memorable visual highlight, as we see him shoot himself whilst walking away from the camera. As he drops to the floor unceremoniously it is clear that there is nothing romanticised about the act, which is desperate and futile. It is also interesting as it builds to this moment at about the half-way point and then the film re-centres itself around Grégoire’s grieving loved ones. Prior to the suicide Grégoire’s wife promises not to leave him in the tough times ahead and I was choked by the realisation that he in fact leaves her. She is forced to deal with the inevitable bankruptcy he couldn’t bear to face himself as well as a future without a husband and father to her children. But although we are shown the void his death has left in their lives, we also glimpse, in another warm and funny scene of family bonding which involves a black-out, how he is really missing out on his life with them.

If I have a strong criticism of ‘The Father of My Children’ than it is directed at the films cheap sounding musical score which becomes prominent in the film’s second half and sounds like something from a terrible TV movie. The film, at almost two hours, is also a little overlong, with too many scenes involving the future of the bankrupt production company when the human drama is the real draw here. It is also true that Louis-Do de Lencquesaing is so successful at being charismatic as Grégoire that the film misses him just as much as his on-screen family do during the second half.

Overall though, the film was touching, warm and poignant with great attention to detail with regards to its portrayal of a happy family. Something which is too-often cheesy and cliché in the cinema (for some reason the opening of ‘Commando’ (five minutes in) comes to mind here). It also manages to get underneath the skin of an interesting set of characters and takes a mature and considered look at the roots of suicidal depression as well as its ultimate selfishness and futility, and without being judgemental. I recommend this film and eagerly await the next feature from Mia Hansen-Løve.

'The Father of My Children' can be seen at the Duke of York's in Brighton until Thursday and is rated '12A' by the BBFC. You can also currenly catch Jeff Bridges in 'Crazy Heart', which I intend to see tomorrow before going up to London for the premiere of 'Kick Ass'.

'Shutter Island' review: After due consideration...

I usually review a film the same day as I watch it and I tend to form my opinions pretty quickly. But there was something about Martin Scorsese’s ‘Shutter Island’ (an adaptation of a popular Dennis Lehane novel and his fourth film in a row staring Leonardo Di Caprio) that made me want to take a couple of days out and gather my thoughts. Now that I have done that, I am able to write this review. However, I should probably start by talking about my initial feelings whilst watching the film, as to some extent they differ from my conclusions.

I should preface all my comments by saying that I happened to have four guys sitting in front of me at the cinema, and they kept talking throughout the film. They used their phones and when people asked them to stop making so much noise; they just got louder and louder. To make matters worse, the film was projected quite badly and was out of focus. These things definitely harmed my experience of ‘Shutter Island’, which started to drag in this atmosphere. However, the film must share some of the blame for my discomfort, as I was also disconnected from events by the director’s choices. I find some of Scorsese’s work to be heavy handed (the slow motion shot of a bible falling into water in ‘Gangs of New York’ has always stood out as an example of this in my mind). In ‘Shutter Island’ Scorsese overuses slow-motion and seems to be more interested in creating iconic cinematic images (worthy of an awards show spot, as in the clip above) than in servicing the story he is telling. I felt this most during the film’s many flashback and dream sequences, some of which slow the film down unnecessarily.

I was feeling this mixture of discomfort at my surroundings, irritation at some of the film’s style and boredom at its length, when I was snapped back into consciousness as the film reached its terrific final act and had me completely captivated. The final scenes are superbly executed and shed a new light on everything that has come before. Many reviewers have suggested that the plot is flimsy and that the plot twists are obvious, but I really never knew (and still don’t know) what to think about the truth on Shutter Island, which I can’t go into here. There is a pleasing ambiguity to much of the film and a real sense that everyone is supremely unreliable (including the filmmaker), more so than in any other film I can think of.

There is also a palpable sense of dread for much of the movie. The cast are generally pitch-perfect, with the possible exception of (the usually decent) Michelle Williams, who slips into horror movie cliche in her role as the protagonists deceased wife. Leonardo Di Caprio is perfect in the central role, injecting all the required intensity and hysteria into every scene, whilst Ben Kingsley is perfectly cast as the Asylum’s doctor. Robbie Robertson’s work as music supervisor also helps provide an atmosphere of foreboding, whilst early shots of the island, shown from the point of view of an approaching ferry, recall all the dread of arriving at Skull Island in ‘King Kong’.

The film is as much homage to Scorsese’s influences as anything Quentin Tarantino has directed, but with more sincerity. Many reviewers have noted that there are references to the films of Powell and Pressburger, Stanley Kubrick and Alfred Hitchcock, whilst the film also owes a sizeable debt to “guilty pleasure” cinema in the form of B movies. But whilst Tarantino’s invocation of the exploitation genre is knowing and almost kitsch, Scorsese manages to invoke a wide range of these “low-culture” movies, whilst still making his movie in complete earnest.

Overall, my current feeling on ‘Shutter Island’ is that it is a very decent film which does a really good job of leading the viewer into questioning the nature of memory and reality. It is often heavy handed and probably overlong, but the more I think about it the more I am convinced that it is an interesting piece of work about madness and the threat of violence from a director whose best work specialises in that subject matter. Whilst it is always tempting to take a recent film from a “great” filmmaker in their twilight years and dismiss it as “minor” work, I feel ‘Shutter Island’ may yet become a key film in the Scorsese canon.

I know am sure my appreciation for the film will grow on subsequent viewings (especially when I can watch it in a more comfortable environment) and I can’t wait until I get to see it again. I will certainly post here when I have done so, should my feelings on the film change. Perhaps it is ultimately fitting that my opinion of this film seems to be changing over time, with my opinion on it about it about as certain as its protagonists fragile grip on reality.

'Shutter Island' is still playing nationwide and is rated '15' by the BBFC. For an almost opposite view to mine, head over to Wrapped in Brown Paper.

My favourite moguls!

For no particular reason, I've been looking at videos of my favourite fictional (usually cigar-chomping) movie moguls and I'm sharing them with you here!

The 1986 John Landis comedy, 'The Three Amigos', which stars Steve Martin, Chevy Chase and Martin Short as the titular Amigos, features on of my all-time favourite fake movie moguls. Joe Mantegna is superb as Harry Flugleman. "Take the Amigo's clothes!" is my favourite line in the entire film and I really like how this scene seems to sum up the way stars were used in the old studio system days. Brilliant.


'Barton Fink', the Coen Brother's 1991 film about an East Coast Jewish, intellectual writer (John Turturro) struggling to write a screenplay in 1940s Hollywood, features another fine fake mogul. Here Michael Lerner is great as Jack Lipnick. I like how the image of the movie mogul in this 40s set film is not too dissimilar to the portrayal of the silent era mogul in 'Three Amigos'.


For some strange reason, I'm not allowed to embed this clip of 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?' here. However, go to this link and skip to the 5.35 mark to see Alan Tilvern as R.K. Maroon (pictured), the head of the fictional Maroon Cartoon studios. I love how he sort of looks like Nixon.

'Singing in the Rain' features Millard Mitchell as R.F. Simpson, an altogether different screen mogul from the rest shown here. Simpson (shown briefly in this trailer, heralding the end of silent pictures) is a kindly and withdrawn figure who generally acts in his star's interests and stands by them. I haven't really seen any other sympathetic film studio heads portrayed in the movies.


Finally, here is a clip of Preston Sturges classic 1941 movie 'Sullivan's Travels'. In this wonderful scene, the studio bosses keep insisting that the worthy movie Joel McCrea's character is trying to pitch contain "a little sex". Sturges is a big influence on the Coen Brothers ('The Hudsucker Proxy' is basically a love letter to him and Capra) and so it is interesting to see how this image of the mogul is similar in some ways to that shown in the Coen Brother's film above, especially as this film was made the same year as that one ('Barton Fink') is set. Jack Lipnick is much more brash than the two seen below, but equally crass.


Hope you enjoyed that! I did anyway...

On a seperate note: I have now seen 'Shutter Island' and I am still mulling it over. I'll post a review in the next couple of days...

Reasons to be cheerful - part 1

I haven't seen any new films since 'Alice in Wonderland' last week (though I may have to go and see 'Shutter Island' today), so I haven't really had anything to write here for since last Wednesday. So, to rectify this, I'll do what I always do when I have nothing to write about... I'll post up some trailers. So here are some trailers for upcoming films to look forward to this year, in no particular order:

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps: I'm not a huge Oliver Stone fan; however I am always interested in him as a chronicler of modern American history. Over his career he has made movies about American wars, presidents and sporting events, which (however flawed) will probably stand the test of time. He made ‘World Trade Center’ just five years after the tragedy, and made ‘W’ whilst George Bush was still in office. ‘Wall Street 2’ is doing the same thing with the recent (current?) economic crisis and, with Carey Mulligan in a supporting role, should be interesting at the very least. This trailer seems to focus on the family drama, but one hopes the film will be a little more about Wall Street.


Inception: I am a big Christopher Nolan fan, so this one is a no-brainer for me. I can't wait to see this movie. I have next to no idea what the hell is happening in this trailer, but I'm sure it's going to be good ('Memento', 'The Prestige' and 'The Dark Knight' weren't bad, afterall).


Tron Legacy: I love how faithful this film looks to be to the 1982 original,which simultaneously advanced computer effects whilst setting them back, due to its dissapointing box office. I can't wait to see Jeff Bridges return as Flynn (with CG work done to make him look like he did in the original!).


Toy Story 3: Another obvious one. I haven't seen a bad Pixar film yet, so I have complete faith in 'Toy Story 3', even though it is the first in the series not to be directed by John Lassester. I'm sure it's in good hands... even if this trailer suggests the humour maybe a little broader this time around.


Cemetery Junction: I still haven't seen Ricky Gervais directoral debut 'The Invention of Lying', which had quite average reviews. However, I am really keen on his second feature from what I've seen. I especially like that Ricky Gervais has seemingly (from the looks of the trailer) cast a lead who understands how to deliver his dialogue in the same way he would himself (much like Woody Allen has done in the past).


Greenberg: I'm not too sure about this from the trailer, but I am a huge fan of Noah Baumbach's 'The Squid and the Whale'. So I remain optimistic about 'Greenberg'.


Four Lions: One of my all-time heroes, Chris Morris (TVs 'BrassEye', 'The Day Today', and ‘Nathan Barley') has followed his frequent collaborator Armando Iannucci (who directed last year’s brilliant ‘In the Loop’) into cinemas, with this satirical comedy about British wannabe suicide bombers. I really, honestly, can’t wait. A friend of mine saw it at Sundance and liked it, so I expect it to live up to my (huge) expectations.


And finally... The Expendables: This looks stupid and will probably be politically offensive in about fifteen million different ways, but it also looks like a lot of 80s-esque action fun. I expect it to be a quotable load of tosh, and from the looks of this trailer it won't disappoint.


I am also looking forward to a number of films which don't seem to have trailers yet, so I'll give a few "shout outs" here: The Coen Brothers have a re-make of the classic Western 'True Grit' coming out this Christmas, staring Jeff Bridges in the role that won John Wayne an Oscar back in 1969. 'Let Me In' maybe interesting: it is the (inevitable) American re-make of the Swedish vampire film, 'Let the Right One In'. It could surprise people. Who knows? 'The Social Network' is also coming out this year. It is directed by David Fincher (who I don't really like) and written by Aaron Sorkin (whose TV work I like, but whose film work always stinks) and is about the founders of Facebook (which sounds like a stupid idea), but I am interested in it against my better judgement.

I'm sure the films which eventually feature on my top ten at the end of this year are ones which are unknown to me at the time of writing. A lot of the best films take you by surprise. But this lot will entertain me for sure.

Also, if you haven't already checked it out, there has been a new edition of the Splendor Cinema/Duke of Yorks podcast up since last week. Jon and I are joined by a special guest to analyse last weekend's Oscar results. Enjoy!

'Alice in Wonderland' review: Of with its head!

I would consider myself a Tim Burton fan. Not a massive fan, as he’s made a few films I’m not so keen on, such as the ‘Planet of the Apes’ re-make, ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ and ‘Corpse Bride’. But he has also made some films that should be considered classic modern fairytales, such as ‘Beetlejuice’, ‘Edward Scissorhands’ and ‘Big Fish’. He is often dismissively referred to as a visual director, but I take issue with this criticism on two levels. The first is that film is a visual medium, and a director like Burton (or Terry Gilliam, or Guillermo Del Toro), who has a unique visual style and paints with ambition and on a large canvass, should be regarded more highly than they perhaps are. The second is that I usually feel Burton’s visual style is carefully considered and becomes part of the characterisation and emotion of the film. The set direction is part of the acting in Burton. For example, Selina Kyle’s apartment in ‘Batman Returns’ was specially designed to seem claustrophobic and restrictive, which was chosen, to reflect something about the character – and not simply because Burton is obsessed with the visual at the expense of the story.

However, I would agree that Tim Burton has not been at his best this past decade. Whilst his last film, ‘Sweeney Todd’, was by all accounts a sound screen adaptation of the source material, the rest of his output over the last ten years (with the exception of ‘Big Fish’) has been a shadow of his former glory, with most of his time being spent as a hired gun on a number of big studio projects. You could be forgiven for thinking that the interesting director of those early works had disappeared. Unfortunately, this decline has not been halted by his latest film, ‘Alice in Wonderland’, a sort of sequel to Lewis Carroll’s original tale (and possibly to the 1951 animation by Burton’s paymasters at Disney who produced this film).

What little of a plot there is a riddled with holes that I probably shouldn’t go into here (especially with regards to the film’s final act) and many of the action scenes feel shoehorned in and fail to excite in any way (well the film is in 3D, and I’m discovering that 3D loves chases!). The story concerns a young-adult version of Alice, portrayed by the interesting and engaging Mia Wasikowska, who is possibly the only positive thing in this mess of a film. Alice stumbles back into Wonderland (or Underland, as we are told it is really called) whilst trying to avoid making a crucial decision about her future. Once there, Alice again meets, and fails to remember, all the familiar characters from the original tale, among them the Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry), Tweedledum and Tweedledee (Matt Lucas) and the Mad Hatter, portrayed by Johnny Deep at his most excruciating.

Since his star-making turn in ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’, this once interesting and versatile actor has become a self-parody and seems to restrict himself to increasingly miss-judged and wilfully bizarre character roles. Whilst he could once be justly considered an impressive emerging actor, he is now just an over actor, and his formerly fruitful partnership with Burton, which has seen him take some of his career best roles (in ‘Edward Scissorhands’, ‘Ed Wood’ and ‘Sleepy Hollow’), has now become a tiresome and predictable bore, with this latest performance being reminiscent of his turn as Willy Wonka in 2005s ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’.

Depp’s star power sees the Mad Hatter rise to an undue prominence in this telling of the story this time around and even sees him becoming an unlikely and uncomfortable love interest for Alice. He also switches from a slightly fey, camp accent, to a Scottish one, seemingly at random, throughout the film to my extreme irritation. To make matters worse he breaks into some kind of terrible dance at the films climax, which reminded me of the mid-battle wedding performed in the last ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ film, in that it was another moment where my jaw dropped and I was forced to ask the question “has this film just gotten worse?”. Helena Bonham Carter, who probably gave her best performance for her husband in ‘Sweeney Todd’, is as perplexing as she is embarrassing in ‘Alice’, as she blatantly steals Miranda Richardson’s “Queenie” character from the second series of TVs ‘Blackadder’ to distracting and unsettling effect. It is all as terrible as it sounds, I promise you.

The films main problem lies in its complete lack of engagement with the audience. It is extremely boring and a packed cinema didn’t laugh more than twice during the entire film. I suspect its record opening grosses will not lead to potential “highest grossing ever” figures, as poor word of mouth should sink this film after the first few weeks of business. Maybe this is part of Disney’s thought process behind trying to cut short its time in cinemas and hurry it onto DVD. Probably not, but it should be the reason. I wanted to leave with scarcely half an hour gone and I know I wasn’t the only one (as my girlfriend confirmed for me afterwards).

In Jan Švankmajer's 1988 part stop-frame animated version of the tale (video clip below) the characters and the setting are given an unsettling and dark edge which Burton, freed of the Disney brief, may well have sought to replicate (especially as he has often decried to the Disney original for lacking that same edge). However, the version we have been given in this latest adaptation has no weight to it, with its CGI characters and locations looking like so much visual bubblegum and lacking all required grandeur and wonder. Terry Gilliam had the same problem last year with ‘The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus’, which lacked the usual visceral quality of his work in its imagination sequences, and so Wonderland has the same problem here in terms of tangibility. The tone and feel of the movie is not dissimilar to some beloved 1980s family adventures, like ‘Labyrinth’ and ‘The Dark Crystal’, but without that visceral (almost dirty) quality, and without any charm, it is perhaps not destined to find the same cult audience. It is also the case that 3D, which has worked so well for ‘Up’ and ‘Avatar’, has not been kind of ‘Alice’, which adds an unpleasant eye-strain to the crushing boredom.

Worst of all, none of Carroll’s trademark wit and wordplay is evident in Burton’s ‘Alice in Wonderland’, which is an especially great shame, as that is clearly the highlight of the original stories. It seems that when Burton starts re-imaging older properties, such as Wonka, ‘Planet of the Apes’ and this ‘Alice’ film, he invariably diminishes them. I very much hope his next film is smaller in scale and harkens back to his earlier days, when he seemed like a relevant (possibly even great) filmmaker. For now we can only sit back and mourn his artistic decline, whilst he and Disney laugh all the way to the bank.




'Alice in Wonderland' is playing at multiplexes throughout the UK (despite weeks of grandstanding) and is rated 'PG' by the BBFC. If you want to hand Disney some money, check out 'The Princess and the Frog' which is far better.

'The Princess and the Frog' review:The triumphant return of the Disney animated musical

Not since 2004’s ‘Home on the Range’ has Disney theatrically released a traditional, hand-drawn animated film. You have to go even further back, to 1998’s ‘Mulan’, to find the last musical entry into the Disney “animated classic” canon. Recent years have seen Disney make their own, in-house computer animated films, with mixed results. These have included average films like ‘Chicken Little’ and ‘Meet the Robinsons’, as well as really awful films like ‘The Wild’ and last year’s ‘Bolt’. None of these have been able to match Pixar’s animations in terms of quality or box-office success and they have seen the studio, which of course pioneered the feature-length, animated motion picture, lose their position as the market leader for the first time in their history. As a fan of the classic Disney of yesteryear, and of animation in general, I take great pleasure in welcoming the old Disney back with the hand-drawn, animated, musical ‘The Princess and the Frog’.

‘The Princess and the Frog’ is directed by two heroes of renaissance-era Disney: Ron Clements and John Musker. These co-directors were key figures in a major reversal of fortunes for the Mouse House in the 1990s, with such films as ‘The Little Mermaid’, ‘Aladdin’ and ‘Hercules’. However, they also directed a film that would ultimately contribute to Disney abandoning hand-drawn animation: 2002s ‘Treasure Planet’, which failed to recoup its massive production budget and became a notorious flop. Happily, ‘The Princess and the Frog’ is closer to the folksy charm of those earlier films, than it is to the miss-judged, high-octane antics of that more recent, CG-heavy film.

Like many of the oldest Disney classics (‘Snow White’, ‘Sleeping Beauty’, ‘Cinderella’), ‘The Princess and the Frog’ is based on an old, European fairytale (The Frog Prince), which in this case finds itself relocated to New Orleans, probably in 1913 (judging by a newspaper declaring that Woodrow Wilson has been elected President), with a hint of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ about it in its depiction of a band of characters on missions of personal fulfilment. Much has been made of its lead character, Tiana, being the first African-American “Disney Princess”, with some commentators finding the film racist, whilst others have accused it of cashing in on fashionable African-American culture. In this area, Disney are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. Make Tiana and her family too well-to-do and you’ve ignored centuries of black history, whilst making Tiana poorer than the average Disney “Princess” and you can be accused of reinforcing negative stereotypes. Understandably, Disney have choson to try placing the black characters somewhere between the two extremes, and for my money they have carried this off rather well.

The house in which Tiana’s family live is not squalid or impoverished, yet it is also markedly smaller than that of the wealthy white family for whom Tiana’s mother works as a seamstress. As Tiana and her mother leave that extravagant setting, they walk almost mournfully into the shadows, as the wealthy, white father showers his spoilt daughter with gifts. It is true that there is no obvious sign of racial tension, but the disparity of wealth is not ignored. It may have been sugar-coated, but this is a children’s fairytale and not social-realist drama, after all. My point is, the film does not ignore racial issues altogether.

In fact, some lines exist which do reference Tiana’s ethnic background, such as in the moment where the white realtors (who are denying her a property) tell Tiana that someone of her “background” might be better off staying where she is. There is also a playful line in one of Randy Newman’s excellent songs (and Newman has a history of lyrics which discuss racism, such as 'Rednecks' or 'Sail Away') in which the black voodoo villain, Dr. Facilier (pictured below), asks a white character whether he has a soul (an obvious reference to that black music in inherently soulful). Tiana is also demonstrated to be the hardest working Disney Princess, working two jobs, to save towards her dream of owning her own restaurant, she doesn’t have it easy, but at the same time, there is no explicit reference to underlying social-economic problems. In other words: ‘The Princess and the Frog’ doesn’t ignore social problems, even if it (understandably) chooses not to make a feature of them.



As mentioned, Randy Newman (a frequent Pixar collaborator with scores for ‘Toy Story’ and ‘Cars’) provides some excellent Jazzy songs into the mix, creating a delightful atmosphere reminiscent of ‘The Aristocats’ – a personal favourite of mine – rather than the Broadway-style popular songs that characterised the Ashmen/Menkin era. The fine music compliments the beautiful animation, influenced by the Disney films of the 1950s-era, specifically the look of ‘The Lady and the Tramp’, an influence which is felt most in the films depiction of New Orleans at night. The animation of all the characters (especially the male frog) is superb and performed with a charm and refreshing subtlety. The film also reminded me of Brad Bird’s superior 1999 Warner Bros animation, ‘The Iron Giant’, in the way it discloses the passing of Tiana’s father through the subtle detail of a bedside photo featuring him in military uniform (in Bird’s film you can suppose the father has fallen in Korea, whilst here it seems more likely that the father has been killed during the First World War – another nod in the direction of racial/social politics, as Tiana’s poor, black father is killed, whilst her friends wealthy white father is still very much alive).

There are some awkward moments, as I felt uncomfortable hearing Tiana’s father sermonise about the value of effort and hard work in achieving success (especially as we are told he works triple shifts whilst never achieving his dream), but whilst the film is a little too “American Dreamy” for my tastes, it is ultimately hard to fault the moral: that you have to work hard if you want to fulfil your dreams. In live-action, maybe I would dismiss this movie the way I have dismissed the last few Will Smith vehicles, about upwardly mobile, hardworking believers in the American way of life. But as a handsome 2D animation, with a fantastic score and a delightful cast of characters - who exist on just the right side of “wacky” – ‘The Princess and the Frog’ is a charming and essential new Disney film, and the studios best since ‘Lilo & Stitch’.

'The Princess and the Frog' is rated 'U' by the BBFC and can still be seen in cinema's nationwide, although it must be nearing the end of it's run. Watch this clip, that I'm not allowed to embed, to get a taste of the film. See it whilst you still can. The same goes for the equally terrific 'Ponyo'. If you are interested, below is a 2007 Goofy short Disney made in order to test paperless 2D animation techniques used to make 'The Princess and the Frog'.