First Impressions | Coco

Like many of you, I grew up on Disney’s animated films.  While some have aged better than others, I still get Nostalgic enjoyment whenever the urge to watch one arises.  Despite this, I have been lazy when it comes to watching their newer films.  Bolt and Up I enjoyed in the theater, while Tangled and Princes & the Frog are still on my to watch list.  However, when I saw the trailer for Coco I knew it was one I had to watch in the theater.  Being from a Mexican family—on my father’s side—might play a part in my initial interest, but it alone does not summarize my enjoyment.

            Set in a small Mexican village, Coco is the story of a boy named Miguel.  Miguel loves music, but comes from a family of cobblers who despise the art because his guitarist great-great-grandfather abandoned the family; this disdain is so great that Miguel can’t even glance at a musician without his grandmother pulling off her sandal and committing assault.  Dia de Muertos arrives, and while setting up the family shrine Miguel learns who his grandfather could be:  his idol, Ernesto De La Cruz.  This discovery eventually lands Miguel in the world of the dead, where he must acquire his family’s blessing or remain there forever. 

            Like all Pixar films, the animation is beautiful.  From the character designs to the backgrounds, the team did their research.  Some might find it basic to use skeletons to represent the dead, but I find it logical considering the holiday associates itself with skull imagery.  Most—myself included—think of facepaint first, and the animators referenced this in their designs, small details included. 

While I have never been to a Muertos celebration—unless one counts Mass—the celebration appeared accurate from what little I know.  Now, I do want to research the celebration further, especially its native roots.  That said, how Pixar integrated the spirits of the dead was interesting.  Minor spoiler, but the dead only exist in their ethereal plane as long as the living remember them.  This remembrance allows them to crossover during the celebration, but only if their pictures are placed in their family shrine.  If no one living remembers them, they weaken and vanish.  “Death for the Dead.”  I wasn’t expecting this plot development, making it a pleasant surprise.  It adds the right amount of drama during the film’s second half as Hector—our Deuteragonist—is in danger of fading away.  At the risk of major spoilers, all I’ll say is that it’s tied into the film’s title.  I don’t know about all of you, but going into this viewing I was questioning the significance, and that continued as the film progressed. 

            The ensemble cast voice their roles well.  While I don’t recognize many voices, the ones I did made me smile.  Benjamin Bratt was perfect as de la Cruz, his voice equal parts charm and charisma; one can easily see why his character was loved in life.  Without spoiling anything, it also adds a finishing touch to the third act.  Cheech Marin is always fun to hear, even if his role is a pithy cameo. 

            Given the subject matter, I wasn’t surprised the main theme was family, mainly its importance.  Mexicans—and Hispanics in general—highly value the unit, and this came across well.  From the post backstory scene to the credits, we see this family’s interactions and their love and concern for one another shines through.  While they might not always get along—what family does—they are there for each other, no matter what.

Traditionalism vs Individuality is a secondary theme, interwoven with the first.  Miguel and his family—mainly his grandmother—are at odds with the boys musical leanings, and this conflict carries the plot forward.  Miguel wishes to follow his heart and live his dream while Grandma wants to keep her family safe and homogenized, which given the family’s backstory is understandable.  We sympathize with both sides but ultimately side with Miguel and his struggle.  He has an uphill battle against in both worlds, but he’s persistent, and persistence pays off.   Miguel is the film's heart, and without him, it wouldn’t work as well. 

With a run-time of 109 minutes, the film is well paced.  At no time was I bored, as Miguel’s plight drew me in, and I found the characters he interacted with fascinating, even though a majority of them are brief and one-dimensional.  The humor worked, and like always Pixar threw in a few for the adults.  The knuckles one, in particular, popped the audience superbly.  According to a co-worker, an interview she watched claimed one part was a shot at Trump.  While it could be interpreted as such, I don’t get that out the scene.  While it satirizes custom’s policies and officials, the humor is generalized, and thus less likely to age the joke as quickly.  The only celebrity mentioned by name is Lucha Legend El Santo, which being a wrestling fan garnered a smile and pop from me. 

If you’re a fan of Pixar’s film, definitely watch this one. While some might compare it to Book of Life, I don’t.  While both films revolve around Mexican culture and the ethereal plane, both plots and goals are different; any similarities I chalk up to culture, and both having Cheech Marin.  

First Impressions | Bright

       What happens when the Dungeon Master has too many ideas and decides to write a screenplay?  We get films like this.
Bright is a 2017 fantasy crime film produced by Netflix.  Taking place in a modern world where magic exists, Humans live alongside Orcs, Elves and other fantastical creatures.  While the how is never touched upon, one can infer this world had a LOTR-style past at one point, and this is the modern result.  Will Smith plays Daryl Ward, a veteran LAPD officer returning to duty after being on the wrong end of a shootout.  Joel Edgerton plays Jakoby, his partner and the forces first active Orc officer.  This distinction carries a two-way stigma, as Jakoby isn’t trusted by his fellow officers and other Orcs despise him.  While on patrol, the pair stumble across a female Elf in the possession of a Magic Wand, a rare item of immense power; as Jakoby puts it, “It’s like a nuclear weapon that grants wishes.”   With vatos, Orcs and a Dark Elf after them, the pair must keep the wand safe as they transverse the streets, as each of their enemies have nefarious intentions.
I was interested in the film the moment I saw the trailer.  The idea was interesting, so it could be a fun time.  I’ve also always enjoyed Will Smith as an actor—even if the overall film is subpar—and being a fantasy fan, I can’t help but pop for the general idea.  Going in, I kept my expectations low, as my colleges had mixed reactions:  some loved it and some thought the film was meh.  After watching it myself, Bright was decent.  The leads had a great repour—it’s obvious the pair work together, but aren’t friends—the action is competently shot, and the story had me invested.  That said, there were several elements that an additional draft could have improved.  The Dark Lord plot is mentioned early on, but the prophecy bit comes out of nowhere, feeling tacked on.  Many of the jokes drew out a chuckle, but several had my eyebrows raised, although I concede they fit the moment in context.

           Race relations is one of the film’s topics, and its allegorical analysis range from subtle to in-your-face blatant.  Set in Los Angeles, Orcs stand-in for African-Americans.  While some are mentioned to have money from sports—a play on certain ethnicities dominated different games—the Orcs we see are thugs, tagging walls and planning murder.  Gang initiation is brought up in the form of Blooding; a hold-over from medieval Orc heritage, but the real-world parallel is obvious.  Jakoby isn’t Blooded, so his own race scorns him.  Human’s view Orcs as animalistic brutes—which could be heavy handed, but matches most depictions of the race—and mistrust them, including Jakoby.  This hatred stems from a war two millennia ago, when they sided with the Dark Lord.  While asinine to judge one’s character based on the actions of one’s ancestors, Human nature is not always wise.  The police brutality scene is where I draw the line.  While I see what the filmmakers were attempting to get across, with how the scene is staged and edited it’s far to blatant.  We get it:  some cops use excessive force and get away with it.  Subtly please.

                Class is also touched upon with the elves—although we do get a brief race moment with the Federal one.  The Elves are portrayed as obscenely rich, spending their days shopping.  They live in their own gated community, which Ward and Jakoby pass through early on.  Although a play on how snobbishly Elves are portrayed as at times, it’s obvious they are an allegory for Hollywood’s elite, with Elf Town standing in for Beverly Hills.  An argument could also be made that they’re a play on the “Jews own everything” stereotype, but it’s thin.

              The Acting ranges from good to serviceable.  Smith and Edgerton are the highlights, carrying the film.  They share an interesting chemistry, a must for a great buddy film.  Rapace is alright as the dark-elf Leilah, but she’s one-note; like film Darth Maul, she’s evil because she’s evil.  She does allow for an interesting role reversal, as the elf is our villain and an orc is one hero.  Edgar Ramirez doesn’t have much interesting to say as Federal Elf Kandomere, but he has a presence; Ramirez feels like he walked straight off the set of The Lord of the Rings, swapping in his armor for a business suit.  Lucy Fry is the film’s weak link.  While she does ok as Tikka, I cared for her character mostly because the story demanded I do; although she did have moments; a few times I was reminded of LeeLoo, mainly because of her strange bond with Jakoby (spoiler:  it goes nowhere).

           The visual and make-up effects were good; with a $90 Million budget, they better be!  The Orc and Elf designs were typical, but fresh enough to be aesthetically pleasing.  I did like that each Orc had different skin markings and fang length.  CGI was used for magical scenes, but it didn’t appear cartoony or half-rendered.  I’ve seen better, but I’ve also seen much, much worse.  

          While he gets flack for Suicide Squad, David Ayer directed Bright well.  He made sure his actors weren’t wooden, and his camera shots made logistical sense.

                While flawed, Bright is a film I can see myself re-watching.  While not my favorite released in 2017, it’s easily in the conversation.  There’s already talk of a sequel, which I’m anticipating.  Hopefully the filmmakers learned, and the sequel does more of what worked and tone down what didn’t.  It’d also be nice to explore how Earth’s been impacted by the existence of magic and Tolkien fodder.  Oh, the possibilities.