Archive for category Childhood Revisited

CHILDHOOD REVISITED – THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE

Pimp-Slap yo' ass, bitch! You're my hooka' now.

Pimp-Slap yo' ass, bitch! You're my hooka' now.

THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE – (1986)

Director: Roy Clements, Burny Mattison, et. al
Starring: Vincent Price, Barrie Ingham, Val Bettin
Screenplay by: Peter Young, Vance Gerry, Steve Hulett, et. al

And YET again, we return to the world of small mammals with this animated adaptation of Sherlock Holmes; The Great Mouse Detective. I, personally, have my own division of Disney movies; lighthearted but generic fare; dark but uniquely engaging fare; the music-heavy fare; the modern fare; and everything else (Treasure Planet, anyone?). This movie certainly belongs in the second category.

And YET again, I have an excruciating desire that Disney return to these underrated, oft-non talked about animated films. In a time where “dark” seems to be the mainstay Hollywood buzz word, films like this, The Rescuers, and The Brave Little Toaster may help filmmakers realize that dark doesn’t always mean ‘brooding’ and ’emo’, because, while such an atmosphere worked perfectly for Batman, it sure as shit didn’t work for Spiderman 3. And with the talk about having Superman go dark as well, I fear for the future of comic book movies.

NOSTALGIC LENS: I’m particularly excited about seeing this one, mainly because I remember so little about it, so it’ll be like watching an entirely new movie for the first time. I remember enjoying it a lot, and some bit parts stand out in my mind (a song about Ratigan; a climactic scene on a clock tower). Other than that, it’s a complete blank, which is weird, since I saw this movie SO many times while I was young.

DOES IT HOLD UP: And now I know why: THIS MOVIE IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL.

While I enjoyed the nostalgic wonder of some of the past films in this series, some more than others, my enjoyment stemmed from an appreciation of some value derived from them, but ultimately remained in that category of nostalgia. The Great Mouse Detective, however, is a genuinely good movie: an amazing 75 minutes of delight and spectacle, the perfect blend of animation, voice work, plot, subtlety, comedy, drama, and art. It never goes overboard in any of these aspects (which usually leaves other aspects lacking). It’s the Toy Story 2 of 1980s Disney. I’m seriously considering putting this movie in my Top 20 (maybe my Top 10) favorite movies of all-time.

Olivia Flaversham’s father, a toymaker, is kidnapped, leaving the poor girl alone in 1890s London. Luckily, she stumbles upon a veteran surgeon mouse, a Dr. Dawson, who leads her to seek the aid of one Basil of Baker Street. And when they arrive, Basil makes one hell of an introduction:

Now, I don’t know much about Sherlock Holmes, except that he’s brilliant but arrogant, and an opium addict. Maybe someone in the comments can add a little more insight. But what I do know is the energy drawn from that scene is maintained (more or less) through out the entire movie. Everything about this movie screams “FUN”. Hell, I bet you were smiling while watching that video.

I’ll admit that at first, I wasn’t feeling it too much. There are some moments early where the editing seems slightly off, and the voice work doesn’t seem to click. But that introduction puts everything that preceded it into perspective, bringing out the seemingly flat characters of Olivia and Dr. Dawson into incredible reflections of themselves. Disney films usually have “love”. Pixar films have “heart”. This movie has something neither of those other films have: personality.

Watching Basil be… well, Basil, is a delight in itself. He moves and thinks and acts with such a raw energy of passion and liveliness that you can’t help but be impressed. Although the mysteries and clues he deduces kind of leaves a bit to the imagination, the drive to which he figures them out is amazing, elevating them to visual marvel.

Contrast him with Ratigan, excellently voiced by Vincent Price, who clearly had fun with the role (and according to IMDB, voicing Ratigan was indeed his favorite role.) He savors his position as being three things: a mouse (not a rat), a criminal mastermind, and incredibly evil. It’s remarkable how the two geniuses go head to head with their mind games, always trying to one-up each other in subtle ways that really speaks to a rich amount of character development.

Subtle moments fill this movie; quiet, understated developments which I absolutely adore. Basil slowly warms up to Olivia after at first being annoyed by her; a lesser writer would have him say at some point, “I’ve really warmed up to you, Olivia,” or something else too on-the-nose. How Basil and Dr. Dawson become closer is also wonderfully managed—Dawson’s almost clumsy-like vigilance and vernacular trigger Basil’s most ingenious moments, including this perfect scene:

How great was that? Basil’s going from depressed to stark-raving insane-brilliance is hilarious, and Price’s hysterically performed song is icing on the cake. (I only wish there was video of the scene prior to this—watching Basil get caught in the trap is heart-breaking.) There does seem to be a thin line between genius and insanity, and this movie capitalizes on this in so many ways, especially when Ratigan loses his shit in the climax.

One of the things Disney does very, very well is how they define the traditional family. They love to work with single parent situations, adoptions, missing fathers/ mothers, etc. They never really pursue the explanation behind these situations; it’s an already-established fact, an element that is, quite accurately, not important to the character or the definition of the true family unit. This is evident between the relationship between Olivia and her father. Maybe Disney will do something involving a gay family unit one day. No? Not in a million years? Okay, just speculating.

If I was forced to mention something bad about the movie, I’d have to say that songs weren’t that good (distracting in a way. Heck, you’d might say they were… uh, fucking distracting) and seemed more like filler than anything else (given that the movie previous to this one, The Black Cauldron, failed at the box office, it wouldn’t surprise me if some Disney execs forced the songs in there.) Also, towards the end, it seems pretty goddamn easy for a bunch of thugs to infiltrate the Queen of Mouse-dom’s room.

Still, the movie maintains that fun energy so much that such small nit-picks go by without really affecting you. I can’t emphasize how entertaining this movie is. If you can steal one hour out your day, just go to Youtube and watch it. I bet you you’ll enjoy it.

IN A NUTSHELL: This is probably going to be the best, most enjoyable movie on this entire feature (maybe Who Framed Roger Rabbit will be beat it.) From the creepy prologue and delightful introduction to the mid-air chase sequence and down-right scary clock-tower climax, The Great Mouse Detective never falters or slips up in any noticeable way; on the contrary, it actually stands out from the other Disney movies, a film that seems rather non-Disney in it’s overall tone. In other words: this movie isn’t just a good Disney movie; it’s a GOOD movie. Period.

July 20th: Dick Tracy
July 27th: FernGully: The Last Rainforest

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CHILDHOOD REVISITED – THE ADVENTURES OF THE AMERICAN RABBIT

Wait-- isn't a march the SAME THING as a rally?

Wait– isn’t a march the SAME THING as a rally?

THE ADVENTURES OF THE AMERICAN RABBIT – (1986)

Director: Nobutaka Nishizawa, Fred Wolf
Starring: Barry Gordon, Laurie O’Brien, Kenneth Mars
Screenplay by: Stewart Moskowitz, Norm Lenzer

Although The Rescuers and The Rescuers Down Under were the movies I was looking forward to watch for entertainment, The Adventures of the American Rabbit was the movie I was looking forward to watch for analysis. Psuedo-Marxist putdowns and pro-American ideals located in a children’s cartoon movie? Why, this is the “Bert the Turtle” of the 80s!

I couldn’t find too much out there in researching this movie, except for a scathing-yet-endearing review of the DVD. Obscure in every since of the word, American Rabbit came and went, apparently, without so much as leaving a scratch in the national landscape, filmic or otherwise. I was curious to re-explore this film, in order to see exactly how heavy the anti-Communist sentiment was within. What better way to celebrate the 4th!

NOSTALGIC LENS: This movie used to be shown on Cartoon Network (before it became CN and when it used to show cartoons). I remember watching it and being somewhat confused by the content and pacing. It seemed better suited as TV mini-series—the action would start, then stop, then start again. I liked the animation, at least, and even if I didn’t understand the action too much, I still was entertained by it.

DOES IT HOLD UP: This movie is pretty fucking terrible. Like a friend of mine said: “It’s sad. Sad, as in lame.” Truer words.

This movie has everything pretty much going against it, even from the beginning, when it was released in 1986. A Cold War polemic released essentially at the tail end of the Cold War is not going to net you much respect. Then it was dropped from theaters, released on cable TV, thrown on a DVD, and never spoken about again, and for good reason. I can’t even begin to explain all the ways this movie goes wrong; but I’ll definitely try.

First off, we see Rob, our main character, as a baby, being glorified by all the other bunnies in the village. The proud parents are relishing the attention when a total stranger comes up and heaps vague praises on the child. Then he disappears. Moronically concerned, the parents never think much on it. The old creep then returns while Rob’s father watches his son play some disturbing combination of basketball and soccer and, oh, let’s say, Quittich. More obscure praise before he disappears. He returns once more time to heap praise to ANOTHER total stranger before walking away. I’m not going to say that this is pedophile behavior, but this is pretty much pedophile behavior.

Oh, but it pays off! When at a picnic, a boulder magically begins to tumble down, threatening to snuff out Rob’s parents. But Rob, sprinting to the rescue, suddenly changes into THE American Rabbit and saves them! And lo, the creepy old guy returns again, this time in wizard robes (no wizard hat), to explain that Rob is the hero of the legends (that apparently, his dad knew all about).

Watch this revelation scene—it’s hysterical:

Man, when the mother starts crying out of nowhere, I lose it.

But, geez, check out Rob there: the bunny is adorned in the aesthetic of the American flag while sporting roller skates on his feet. Roller skates? Really? I mean, the guy can fly for Christ sake! It’s like the Asian animators (either Japanese or Korean) tried to emulate the American hero with Americanized concepts, but failed. He might as well be playing baseball with a golf club. (Although, this would explain the basketball/soccer mistake.)

Then, the complex and complicated events of a teenager hitting puberty, learning responsibility, and being a superhero, is presented and resolved via a FADE CUT. We don’t have time for such nonsense! America needs saving!

And this is when things go from bad to worse.

Rob manages to procure a job as a pianist at a bar called the Pandamonium, which is, you guest it, run by a panda named Teddy, and the sexiest rabbit on film after Jessica—a pink bunny named Bunnie. He and his crew manage to stand up to a bunch of mob-like jackals demanding “insurance” money; their refusal unleashes a full-scale beatdown of their club on Rob’s opening night with band sensations The White Brothers.

While the band playing on the sinking Titanic was a noble and brave gesture of peace upon chaos, the White Brothers continuous play during the club’s attack is sad, horrifying, and nonsensical. And, as if to add fuel to this fire, they fucking play sad music at the end! Imagine, if you totally blew a job interview, and as you left the building, some douchebag played “Sad Trombone” in your face.

If I had to sum up the general failure of the movie with one idea, it’s this: no one has any visceral reaction to the terrible things that occur, like the scene above. When the American Rabbit saves the town from a collapsing bridge during a protest, no one cares. When Teddy, Bunnie, Rob, and the White Brothers go on tour to the Grand Canyon, and they can’t find the club named “The Trap Door” (REALLY???), they just decide to raft down the river to find it. Are you kidding me? Are they smoking saliva or something? Is this what animals actually believe?

Any credible attempt to be clever is destroyed. The jackals, lead by a buzzard-carrying-fatsuit named Vultor, try to lure Rob’s gorilla friend Ping to fight the American Rabbit. How? Smart use of manipulation? Blackmail? Oh, no. Throw him in a jar of filling water and force him by threat of death. And, considering Ping is a goddamn pussy, he would drown, not because he’s being noble, but because he’s being a goddamn pussy.

The only redeeming moment is when the American Rabbit attacks the fatsuit, only to reveal that the Buzzard himself was actually Vultor. That’s a twist M. Night Shyalaman would be proud of. However, it comes out the expense of some absolutely ridiculous plot moments, including, but not limited to:

1) Kidnapping a chocolate-producing moose because, uh, “whoever controls the chocolate controls the world.”
2) Approaching a random music business run by penguins to “rent out the Statue of Liberty.”
3) Attaching bombs to said statue to get the American Rabbit to back down… AND SUDDENLY, having possession of a doomsday device.

Every so often, the movie tries to be preachy, but even a 2-year-old with Down Syndrome can see through the crap. There’s a scene where Rob tries not to generalize all the jackals as being bad, but since there are no good ones, what’s the point? Especially when coupled with Vultor’s Iron Will speech, it becomes perfectly clear that this movie is just a load of hot, racist (speciest?!) air, the Crash of animated movies, as it were. All jackals aren’t bad; just the ones you meet, know, and come in contact with.

IN A NUTSHELL: This movie needs to be watched, while drunk, with friends if possible. Any attempt to try to understand this abomination will be immediately met with a wall coming to blows against your forehead. When Bunnie makes a CLEAR sexual reference to the American Rabbit, and it goes over his head—well, that scene in itself is the epitome of the entire 86 minutes.

July 13th: The Great Mouse Detective
July 20th: Dick Tracy

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SUDDEN CHILDHOOD REVISITED – MOONWALKER

[Ed. note: I decided to do Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker in lieu of his passing. The Adventures of the American Rabbit will be done next week, for Fourth of July weekend. I don’t plan this kind of thing. I apologize if this seems rushed.]

I kinda wish this is what he was like standing up against Death.

I kinda wish this is what he was like standing up against Death.

MOONWALKER – (1988)

Directed by: Jerry Kramer, Jim Blashfeild, Colin Chilvers
Starring: Michael Jackson, Joe Pesci (!)
Screenplay by: Michael Jackson, David Newman

A poster on a website I frequent quite often poignantly suggested that, in the case of Michael Jackson, there be a middle ground. He waxed on elaborately, but a follow-up comment summed it up quite succinctly: “That was one fucked up dude, who made some great fucking music. I think each of those facts cannot eclipse the other. They just are.”

“They just are” is probably the hardest sentiment the human mind can comprehend. With our passion for searching for truth and explanations (an assessment I fully endorse by the way, especially for scientific purposes), we can’t simply grasp that someone can be both great in one aspect and odd in another, despite the fact people like that exist all around us (Ty Cobb, Eddie Murphy, hell, even Adolf Hitler). When it comes to people, I’ve learned that it’s really best to accept them and their behavior as “they just are” instead of trying to figure it out. (See: Citizen Kane).

Jackson was the king of pop and the prince of nightmares; he was a musical genius and a creepy celebrity figure; he choreographed breath-taking dance numbers and invoked questionable relationships with children. He did both, and far be it from us to try and reconcile the two, because honestly, no one can. The media can pop wise and speculate all they want; friends and family can gossip and book-write till the end of time; doctors and psychologists can “study” the stories and anecdotes of a child pop star growing up with a commanding father for years to come; but the whole truth is that he is who he is, and whatever he thought or felt is now forever gone.

NOSTALGIC LENS: Moonwalker is actually a series of vignettes, a compilation of music videos, original content, documentary reels, and concert footage. All I remember though, is the strange, overly long “Smooth Criminal” segment, complete with Jackson the Transformer, and strange clip of Michael out-dancing a rabbit. I can’t say I liked what I saw back then, but was strangely compelled by it nonetheless. It was almost as if a part of my childish mind said “this is stupid, but engaging.” Although when you’re young, you’ll watch anything.

DOES IT HOLD UP: I don’t even know anymore. I mean, to be honest, it’s a totally different movie now. Michael Jackson past away way too soon, and now we’re looking back at his work historically way too fast, instead of gradually. So I fear I may be seeing “meaning” in things that are meaningless. Still, you can’t help but get a sense that there is a message, something that Michael was trying to say beyond simply marketing his albums. Whether it was a broad, social message or a personal one… well, that’s debatable for sure.

The film begins with his song “Man in the Mirror,” a song that, in retrospect, may be a chilling introspective on his own personal demons. It’s a heartfelt song, truly sung with an undertone of remorse and passion that went beyond his usual persona. It was at this time that the seeds to Michael’s strange behavior were sewn; the nose job, the sudden marriage, the bleaching of the skin. When he sang about changing his ways, he wasn’t quite speaking metaphorically. He seemed to have a genuine passion for saving the world, or protecting it, clearly indicated by the random historical shorts of famous political, social, and civil figures. When he couldn’t, he focused on himself and elements he felt he could save, like children, or Beatles’ songs, or… the Elephant Man’s bones. He was a hippie version of Holden Caulfield, with money and fame to burn.


(NOTE: Most of the Moonwalker clips have been marked “not to embed” so you can follow along via the youtube host’s playlist.)

This is then followed by an amazing compilation of various songs he’s performed over the years, mixed with (at the time) high-end special effects and elaborate edits. Both parts are surprisingly good, if dated; but again, I’m watching this after the fact, and I can’t help but wonder if I would be as impressed with the clips if he was still around (I would say yes, if only because to hear the unique change in his sound and style is incredible in and of itself).

Ahh, then the humor comes in. A rendition of his “Bad” video performed by kids comes on. Now, although I don’t think he actually molested any kids, his affinity towards them was always weird. Overall people hate kids, or lack a passionate desire to be around them, so seeing Michael’s closeness to them, coupled with his VERY effeminate voice, is creepy. The kids performed well, though, and Michael isn’t in that section, so it isn’t too bad.

Harmony, peace, hope—they are the themes through out this entire movie, even when quick, self-deprecating moments are shown. Following the “Bad” video, where child-Jackson waxes surprise at Bubbles wearing a Prince shirt (*WINK*), we’re treated to a Beatles-esque fan-chase scene. It’s cute, with claymation characters hot on the heels of the pop star, a clear reference to claymation sensations “The Raisins”. It’s somewhat creepy in the Uncanny Valley sense, but not that bad. To escape his obsessed clique, he dresses up as a bunny—out of ALL the possible choices available to him. Wait, what?

Anyway, we’re treated to another music video, “Speed Demon”. Now, retrospectively, this all may not make sense to a kid, since children are so comfortable in following a straightforward plot, so the compilation aspect of it may seem odd, or downright frightening. But as an adult, it makes sense, and the intention is more obvious. I got a genuine kick out of it, despite its old school ways and the fact that “Speed Demon” isn’t really that good of a song. (And one more thing—Michael Jackson would be the world’s WORST role-player. He powergames through out the entire movie. He can transform into anything! And so can his vehicle!). He then out-dances his bunny persona (WHAT?) in the world’s first “Bring It On” dance-off, and gets a ticket for it. I chuckled a bit at that. I mean, dancing? Illegal in the desert? How random—but then again, this is Michael we’re talking about.

More self-deprecating comes in my second-favorite song “Leave Me Alone”, a “Yellow Submarine” type video of visual metaphors of Jackson trying to deal with the press’s obsession over him. Again, this totally flies over you as a child but is much clearly presented now. Also, I love this song.

Now comes the part we all remember—the overly long, elaborate “Smooth Criminal” music video, where Michael the Powergamer, Kate, the cutie white girl, and two other kids discover a hamming-it-up Joe Pesci out to supply drugs to every kid in the universe. RIDICULOUS plot aside, it’s shot fairly well, with a way-too long chase sequence, and some nifty effects with Jackson transforming into a car, killer robot, and a spaceship. I suppose that these “transformations” could mean something, some outward expression or desire to “be” something else, but every time, he’s forced to change back to himself, to be himself, to “save” those around him in song and dance and fervor. Still, “Smooth Criminal” is my favorite MJ song, and it’s an amazing video, with some of the best dancing and choreography around (so good, in fact, that Michael was PISSED it didn’t win best music video at the MTV Awards that year).

Usually, this ends when Jackson flies away (a moment that’s hugely depressing now), but for the movie, he returns, and takes the kids into a concert for a final performance by him back in concert mode, singing “Come Together” (I had no idea he did a cover of this song!). It’s cool, but by the time this part comes around, the overly long “Smooth Criminal” part already wore you out, so you’re just running through the motions now.

IN A NUTSHELL: As a movie-movie, it’s not good, but as some sort of real insight into the man, music, and mysticism of Michael, it’s amazing. I want to say that somewhere in all this is the answer, that within this amazing effort of dancers, actors, writers, directors, producers, and editors, lies the hidden secret to the mind of that Man in the Mirror, that king of pop that ruled the 80s and ran strong in the 90s. But even if I were to watch this a million times, and “The Making of” video two million, there’s really no answer to it all. He was a powerful pop star and a horrible one; both a glorious figure addicted to the limelight and a tragic figure trying desperately to stay away from it. He was his best friend and his own worst enemy, his own enabler, his own killer. Maybe there is nothing beyond the facts we see; sometimes, “they just are” indeed.

RIP Michael.

July 6th: The Adventures of the American Rabbit
July 13th: The Great Mouse Detective

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