Frankenweenie (2012)

Recycled Material From the Grave
or
"I Can Fix This..."

Really, it's a little soon for Tim Burton to be re-making one of his own films—albeit his first live-action short for Disney.  One worries that maybe he's run out of ideas, or that he's simply doing what he's always done—take a property and combine it with that goofy blend of the kinky and ghoulish that he has made his own...it's just that this time the property is his...and he's already made it his own once.  Maybe, he looked at this product of his younger self with limited resources and thought "I can do better. I can do more."  Or along the lines of young Victor Frankenstein, he looked at it his earlier creation and vowed "I can fix this."

At the time of the live-action short, Disney looked at the product of their young animator...and promptly dumped it...only acknowledging it when Burton became an A-list director (with some studio hesitancy) with the first "Batman" film.* Now, Disney is crowing about its brand new Burton movie, and one can only imagine the wry smile that must produce for the director.  It was natural for Disney to want an expansion—they owned the property—and although this new version of Frankenweenie has a lot of (dare I say) re-animation of material, it did give Burton a chance to give it a little more depth and play around without the inhibitions of live action.

I say inhibitions rather than limitations because the differences are exhibited in a weird and rather contrary way, given that the film is done with puppet figures: emotion.  The character of Sparky exhibits a far greater depth of moods than a trained pit-bull terrier could exhibit in live action, not only in its darker moments, but especially in moments of joy—the animation of the dog running elicits fond feelings immediately, as the puppet is rarely touching the ground in motion, not unlike Charles Schulz's "Peanuts" kids who hover over the ground in transit.  And although the human figures are Burton cyphers (resembling the human character designs of his first film Vincent) they are still soulful, their eyes expressing more emotions than their faces will betray. Given that the subject matter is about a mad scientist of a little boy who runs the parallel path of his literary namesake to re-animate his beloved dog, killed in a traffic mishap, there's a lot of room for high emotion there, and far more than in the motivations of the original story.

But, Burton takes it further and makes it more than about young Victor.  Taking pages from The Nightmare Before Christmas and Batman Returns, he stages the denouement at a city festival that brings all parties together in one spot, the communal experience gone awry.  Seems that Victor's work has attracted a lot of attention among his classmates, and as there's a science fair going on, all the kid's are doing the same thing—literally, the same thing, bringing to life their dead pets with very mixed results, and providing Burton a chance to explore other species of monster movies (and recreating scenes from them) than just the one, paying tribute to each, just as he does by including a scene from friend Christopher Lee's turn as "Dracula."  Like Victor's experiment, this is a labor of love as Burton—just as with the earlier short—resurrects the movies he loved as a kid, long-buried memories that never really leave, and have influenced Burton throughout his career.  It's a fun, resonant electrification of his earlier work, with just enough fresh in it to make it worth the effort and bring it back to new life in leeched black-and-white (which Burton always manages to make look sumptuous).  Now, if only we could see something wholly new and original from him, that would be some experiment.

The original Frankenweenie

Brad Bird's "Family Dog" (based on animation designs by Tim Burton)

* It did find it's way to Paul Reubens who'd been trying to find a suitable director to collaborate on his long-in-the planning Pee-Wee Herman movie he'd been dreaming about.  Frankenweenie convinced him to contact Burton.

City of Ember

Viewing "City of Ember" took me back to memories of Siskel and Ebert arguing about children's films. Siskel inevitably panned the kiddie flicks for lacking depth, acting and plausibility. Ebert would accuse him of being a curmudgeon and then cite the films various charms... usually imagination and a healthy sense of adventure. And here I sit, of two minds... Siskel and Ebert sitting on my respective shoulders like a fat gray angel and sadly deceased devil.

The film itself is set in a post nuclear holocaust world where the last humans live in an underground city, waiting for the day when they can return to the surface. But somewhere along the way, everyone forgot about returning and are content to lead fearful and obedient lives in a grim subterranean 19th century London. Two young heroes shake off the city's collective torpor and make a predictably challenging yet successful dash for freedom.

Ebert, still reviewing films for the Chicago Sun-Times, actually illuminates most of the plot holes in his own lukewarm 2.5 star review. The most egregious gaffs (to me at least) were casting a 24 year old Harry Treadaway to portray a young adolescent, the use of a utilitool as a deus ex machina device, and the entirely unbelievable roller coaster ride toward the end. But Ebert the angel reminds me that roller coaster rides through a dark underground river delight the imagination... and creating a deeply immersive and imaginative setting is the film's primary strength. Then Siskel the devil whispers back, "Too bad the characters lack any compelling or imaginative dialogue."

At a deeper level though, Siskel and Ebert would probably agree on the film's transparent politics. The film's underlying symbolism is troubling for a politically left-leaning viewer like myself. As the primary villain, Bill Murray plays a gluttonous simpleton. His role as the obese mayor of the City of Ember, along with his two henchmen (one effete and the other club-footed,) create a clear portrayal of the enemy. They are fat, lazy, corrupt, and deformed. The heroes are young, attractive, strong and equally quick of foot and mind. This already calls to mind the sort of bigotry that permeated the film "300." And most telling, the two heroes are depicted as unnaturally eager to work hard, putting them in stark contrast to everyone else in the movie. Their challenge is to overcome the stagnation of their society and recapture humanity's potential. As such, they are Ayn Rand repackaged for the middle school set. Every social institution is portrayed as ineffective at best, and criminally corrupt at worst. Religion even takes it on the nose, portrayed as a bunch of head-in-the-sand singing enthusiasts.

It's a dangerously naive view of society (even in a microcosm) to depict it a grossly inept set of systems in desperate need of a savior. It sets up a very antisocial set of beliefs about being above the law, entitled to whatever freedoms you desire, and that rebellion is the only answer. But of course, stories marketed toward youth are unlikely to trumpet wisdom or temperance as worthwhile virtues. If the true test of a film like this is whether or not you'd take your kids to go see it... be forewarned that it's a libertarian manifesto posing as fantasy.

"City of Ember" is a rental (speaking objectively)