The Disney Renaissance: Aladdin

In 1992 Disney departed from their trend of spunky heroines and created a new animated hero.  Aladdin proved to be a fun, fantastical film which boys and girls alike could enjoy.  It’s probably a close second to Hercules (1997) as the most free-spirited and light-hearted film of the Disney Renaissance.

The vocal talents of comedian Robin Williams contribute to the film’s comic elements.  As the Genie, Williams’ fast-talking, impression-based humor worked well with his magical character’s shape-shifting abilities.  Gilbert Gottfried, another comedian, added his own brand of humor to the villainous parrot Iago.  The monkey Abu and the friendly Magic Carpet add cuteness.

Aladdin features joyful, catchy songs by Alan Menken, Howard Ashman, and Tim Rice.  Every 20-something knows the title character’s opening tune, and “A Whole New World” has become a go-to romance song for singers.

It may sound shallow, but the best thing about Aladdin for a lot of young women my age is that the title hero is considered quite the hottie.  Hey, I’m not the only one who thinks so.  In fact, Vanity Fair recently held a March Madness bracket deciding the sexiest animated character.  While Aladdin didn’t win, he did pretty well.  If men can go ga-ga over Jessica Rabbit (the female finalist in the bracket), women my age can swoon over Aladdin, okay?

More than anything else, Aladdin makes me think of humor.  While it certainly has the signature drama and significant themes characteristic of the Disney Renaissance, it’s not as dark or emotional as many of the others.  And like Disney Pixar films today, its humor is appropriate for children but enjoyable for adults as well.  As with the other films in the Renaissance, there are many jokes I did not understand until I rewatched the film as a teenager.  It’s that kind of versatility that makes the Disney Renaissance so legendary.

Playing Catch-Up: Take Shelter

Am I allowed to retroactively decide the winner for Best Film of 2011?  Since this is my blog, I’m giving myself permission, because I think I’ve found my champion, and it’s Jeff Nichols’ Take Shelter.

Soon after announcing this to myself while watching the film last night, I remembered The Artist, last year’s Best Picture winner at the Oscars.  I was overjoyed when that film won the top prize, and I don’t want to pull a Kanye West and claim that its victory was not deserved.  (I think that’s the most topical reference I’ve ever made on this blog, and ironically it comes three years late.)

I’m happy that The Artist won Best Picture, even after watching Take Shelter.  Frankly, I acknowledge that the Academy’s decisions are political, and I think it’s foolish to believe that we don’t participate in the politics as viewers.  I wanted The Artist to win because it’s silent.  I’ll say it.  It’s also a mesmerizing film, but I wanted a silent, black-and-white film to win so that we could have some semblance of reverence for film history and meaningful storytelling amidst all the CGI and sequels.

Perhaps I can handle this difficult decision by stating that The Artist was my favorite film of 2011, but Take Shelter was, in my opinion, the best film of 2011.  It could take all day to properly express my reasoning, and I’ve already drafted and deleted plenty of text, but it’s fruitless.  Let’s just let my review of the film speak for himself.

Michael Shannon stars in Take Shelter as Curtis, a Southern construction worker supporting his wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain) and their deaf daughter Hannah.  Curtis’ sanity and personal relationships begin to fall apart when he starts having disturbing dreams and visions which involve destructive storms and violent behavior.  His dreams have a powerful impact on his reality, as he fears that the events of his hallucinations are coming true, a belief that threatens to alienate his family and friends.

Nichols masterfully weaves an ambiguous and captivating film which keeps the audience on edge and uncertain.  Fantasy seamlessly blends with reality so that the viewer experiences Curtis’ confusion and frustration.  Real-life scenes cut to dream sequences which, unlike in more contrived films, one does not totally acknowledge as fantasy until one witnesses Curtis opening his eyes.  Haunting music by David Wingo creeps up on the spectator, adding to the sense of anxiety.

Michael Shannon’s performance is nuanced and fearless.  He’s tackled mental illness before, in his Oscar-nominated role in Revolutionary Road (2008).  He has an ability to endear the viewer to him and frighten them at the same time.  He plays a man who is aware of his problems and disappointed in himself that he can’t fix them.  Shannon pulls it off.

Jessica Chastain has quickly become the most highly praised breakout actress of the past year.  She starred in two Oscar-nominated films, The Help and The Tree of Life, the former of which earned her a nomination for Best Supporting Actress.  In this film, as in those, she’s a strong actress who transforms herself believably into her characters, from the simple act of putting jam on toast for an everyday breakfast to confronting her husband about his strange behavior.

Take Shelter is not an easy film to explain, because much of the narrative is uncertain and ambiguous.  This is all the more reason to just experience the film yourself.

Playing Catch-Up: Paris je t’aime

Lacking affordable options for watching movies, I spend summer browsing the On Demand list of free movies on my television.  I usually have to wade through pages and pages of obscure horror films and straight-to-video sequels, but there are always a few diamonds in the rough.  One channel which always comes through for me with great movies is the Sundance Channel.  It’s helpful that Sundance offers free movies on demand, because I don’t subscribe to the channel.  As more and more action movies and epic novel adaptations take over the movie theaters, lately the only films I have any desire to watch are independent movies.  The Sundance Channel brings them to me at the press of a button.

This weekend it brought me Paris je t’aime (2006).  Before New Year’s Eve or What to Expect When You’re Expecting, this love letter to Paris brought together an ensemble cast of actors from different countries and told multiple short vignettes about different characters, each in a different part of the City of Light.  What sets this film apart from other ensemble films like New Year’s Eve, besides the higher-brow cast and style of storytelling, is the fact that each vignette is directed by a different renowned director.

The film’s title translates to Paris, I Love You.  The idea of love — its expectations, its fulfillment, and its disappointments — permeates the nearly twenty stories, each of which serves as a slice-of-life short film, a visual poem of few words but plenty of meaning.  Many vignettes focus on couples who are just meeting up.  Not all stories are about romantic love.  There are a few stories about parents and children, one about a disillusioned tourist, and another about a woman’s love affair with the city of Paris itself.  Unlike ensemble films like Crash or Love Actually, this film does little to link the different stories, which does not detract from the vignettes’ thematic links.  I actually would have preferred no literal links between the stories, because I think the thematic ties were strong enough already to allow each story to stand on its own.

You’ll recognize many famous faces, including American actors Natalie Portman, Elijah Wood, Steve Buscemi, and Maggie Gyllenhaal.  Brits Emily Mortimer and Rufus Sewell also make appearances.  There are a number of French actors, the most famous of whom for American viewers are likely Juliette Binoche and Gerard Depardieu.

Who could resist the picturesque scenes of Paris in the day and night, inhabited by so many different kinds of people?

If you’re a fan of the independent ensemble film, there is the follow-up film New York, I Love You, which I have yet to see.  I would also suggest Jim Jarmusch’s Coffee and Cigarettes.

The Disney Renaissance: Beauty and the Beast

The next film in the great Disney Renaissance is the critically acclaimed Beauty and the Beast (1991), the first animated feature to be nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture.  Following in the footsteps of The Little Mermaid, this film built upon the concept of including more serious themes and a cinematic style.

Once again, Disney took a classic fairy tale which had been told in multiple artistic forms, including in films by established directors such as Jean Cocteau, and made it something new with memorable characters and stirring music by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman.  Talky songs such as Belle’s introductory tune and the famous “Be Our Guest” joined moving ballads like the title song “Beauty and the Beast.”

Arguably the most significant element of Beauty and the Beast is the fact that it established a strong female heroine who differed from earlier Disney princesses, including Ariel of The Little Mermaid.  Whereas female protagonists in these films often long for marriages to wealthy men who will save them,  Belle has a better head on her shoulders.  She rejects the advances of the slimy Gaston, despite the fact that he’s considered the town hunk.  Belle enjoys the fantasy of romance as she reads it in books, but she is intelligent enough to understand that real-life romance does not always play out that way.  She falls in love with the Beast as he is, as opposed to seeking a handsome prince who will sweep her off her feet.  Belle provides a good role model for girls by teaching them that intelligence and responsibility are important and that beauty is more than skin deep.  Belle is the Disney princess many young women, myself included, like to say they most resemble.  Whether it’s true or not, it goes to show just how important the film’s heroine was to a generation of women.

Another noteworthy aspect of Beauty and the Beast is its revolutionary combination of cinematic style and mature themes.  The animation often reminds the viewer of live-action cinema, from the detailed town sequences to the dark gloom of Belle’s foray into the woods.  The sweeping depiction of Belle’s and the Beast’s romantic dance reminds one of  a big-budget epic.  This style, combined with more serious themes like the dangers of vanity and the trauma of being misunderstood, makes for a new kind of animated family feature.

Beauty and the Beast was the first film I saw in a theater.  While I was too young to remember the experience, it has always stuck with me that the first movie I experienced in such an important setting was an addition to the Disney Renaissance.  About ten years later, I saw the Broadway adaptation of the film.  These experiences are testaments to the significant role these films have played in my life and the lives of people my age.

A new television series called Beauty and the Beast is in the works to premiere on The CW this fall.  It’s just further proof that viewers from the Disney Renaissance generation are still interested in revisiting these stories.

Spring Cleaning

I recently realized that many of my movie reviews arrive rather late.  I often post my thoughts about films which have been out for months or years, sometimes even decades.  I’ve decided that my reviews for older films shouldn’t be in the same category as my reviews for newer releases, so I’ve reorganized my archives.

My reviews of new releases will receive the label “Review,” my reviews of older films which I should have watched by now with receive the label “Playing Catch-Up,” and my reviews of more obscure films which I have happened upon will receive the label “Have You Seen It?”  It’s my way of keeping my posts organized and properly categorized, to lend some order to my rapidly growing catalog of posts.  I’m the Martha Stewart of blog posts, if you will.  Hopefully this will make my blog archive a bit easier for new readers to navigate should they decide to read older posts, which I hope they do.

By the way, I’m aware that the majority of my readers likely find their way here through one of my “So Bad It’s Good” or “Fashion on Film” posts, another reason that I’ve decided to better categorize and label my posts and have recently added new, more specific categories such as “Side by Side” and “The Disney Renaissance.”  It’s just another way to change the style and organization of my blog as it nears it second anniversary and its 140th post.

Let me know what you think of the changes in the comments or tweet me @jillconway.