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Complaints about the live-action Beauty and the Beast are always hilarious because the 1991 movie itself travestied the 1946 version.
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Dec 29, 2018 10:57
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There's even a part where it predicts complaints about the animated movie. When the Beast transforms into a human, he asks Belle if she preferred him ugly than as a handsome prince.
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Dec 29, 2018 20:00
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I prefer live action premakes like Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast
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Feb 11, 2019 07:40
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Sid was a creative child who did nothing wrong.
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Feb 12, 2019 19:49
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BrianWilly posted:...yeah like. It almost feels like the original HTTYD was a film that encapsulated 2010, while this film is one that encapsulates 2019. I think this is more apt than you intended. The original HTTYD is about how killing the right monster will make everyone get along in a happy cross-species paradise. So yeah, it's very much a movie from the Obama years, a period that left us burdened with dumb concepts like "toxicity".
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Feb 28, 2019 11:02
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Fangz posted:The theme of WIR2 is the possessive attitude of manchildren towards their key relationships in the face of the uncertainty and hostility of modern internet life and how the onus is on them to recognise those aspects of themselves and develop healthier attitudes even if it makes for unhappiness in the short term and a diminished notion of their own importance. That's not a a theme, that's an over-complicated allegory.
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Mar 7, 2019 21:49
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Animated movies are evaluated by their gimmickry rather than by their artistry. This is why culture has largely passed by two of the greatest CGI animated movies ever made, Steven Spielberg’s Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn, and Zack Snyder’s Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, in favour of the Disney-Pixar-Dreamworks assembly line (maybe having to type out those titles one time too many got to pop journos). It is a startling thing to realise that Owls of Ga’Hoole still looks better than almost any animated movie after it (and certainly better than before it). In the case of both movies, a director known previously for live-action movies and visual innovations decided to dabble in animation. The problem with most animated movies is that they have no real directors: John Lasseter, Brad Bird, and the half-anonymous, interchangeable cliques are animators first and directors second. The role of a director is to manage a project to achieve their artistic vision, and these animation directors have all the necessary skills but no vision to accomplish. They became directors because they were company founders or because they rose up the ranks – a model of art as technocracy. Their animated movies seem to come out the imagination of committees rather than of artists. Animal Logic, the animation company behind The Owls of Ga’Hoole also worked with Mad Max director George Miller to create Happy Feet and earlier provided visual effects for Babe. This is only further evidence that no clique of animator-technocrats is match for partnerships with seasoned directors. Snyder and Spielberg managed advance animation more than the professionals of the medium. Because they do not take the aesthetic potential of animation for granted, they can work at creating something that looks interesting.  The art design The Owls of Ga’Hoole has the advantage of being free of commercializing influence – almost every character in children’s animated movies is created made with their toyetic possibilities in mind. The inhabitants of Ga’Hoole, along with the artistically ugly cast of 2011’s Rango (another animated film directed by a non-animator) are among the rare exceptions. Liberated from the impulse to simplify and streamline, the artists can fully embrace the potential of digital animation for complex and intricate designs. They have the licence to make the characters look beautiful, something that few animated movies attempt. The movie’s owls are not infantilized toy prototypes, but faithfully recreated animals who remain alien enough to be intriguing even when anthropomorphised. Although animated, the word of Ga’Hoole is not a cartoon universe. Matter and laws of physics do not warp, and the owls always retain their realistic sense of physicality while hopping, flapping their wings, gliding, and clawing. The characters are anthropomorphised through their bright, absorbing eyes that express their character. The protagonist Soren’s brown eyes, for example, are narrow but always stretched open to emphasise vulnerability and immaturity, while his brother’s eyes occlusive eyes indicate an absence of empathy. The two lunatic friends who Soren have sharp and flatly monochromatic gaze to show that they’re not quite all there, while a pair of idiot henchmen have patchwork eyes as colourful as a fool’s motley hat. And each owl has their down coloured with sumptuous natural shades. The wondrously realised birds glide through a dream-world (partly Australian-inspired) perpetually lit by the soft glow of dusk and twilight.  Because animated movies are evaluated for their gimmicks, they are mostly remembered for particular sequences, plot twists, or quirks of their style. This is for example why some adults are strangely excited by death and violence in children’s movies, since the idea of transgressive brutality (and the world “brutal” tends to be thrown around) serves as an interesting gimmick for them. Other times viewers simply stick to particular songs or ,as is common with Pixar movies, recall the scenes transparently meant to pull on heart-strings. But nothing in Ga’Hoole stands out in particular because everything in it stands out. Dreamworks’s Kung Fu Panda 2 has a show-stopping sequence where the hero manipulates a single water-drop in search of inner peace. Ga’Hoole features essentially the same scene but far superior, as the hero flies through thousands of rain-drops like glittering diamonds. This spectacular moment is a relatively minor part of the story. Similar neglect of craftsmanship by audiences can be observed in The Adventures of Tintin: viewers tend to remember best the chase sequence in a North African port city, but ignore that every scene is just as amazing despite being on a smaller scale.  In terms of psychological depth, Owls of Ga’Hoole is far ahead of the competition. American and Western children’s movies in general have throughout their history been largely concerned with struggle for reconciliation, and this is especially true for animated movies. The stories of Disney and Pixar are a history of reconciliations, between friends, between enemies, between adults and children, humans and animals, individuals and society, the living and the dead, etc. – which ideally culminate in heart-warming reunions. But there is something false about this overriding focus on emotional healing. Film-makers rely on formula and seem to have forgotten how to portray emotional, social, and psychological development in children’s movies. There are few CGI releases that convincingly portrays growth, certainly not from Pixar or Disney. Not so with Owls of Ga'Hoole. The story is about two children who grow by choosing between good and evil. Soren and his brother are young owls still incapable of flight and raised on stories of the Guardians, legendary warrior-owls who protect the weak. After stumbling out of their tree, the two are kidnapped by the fascistic Pure Ones, one becoming a slave and the other a child soldier. Soren’s faith in the Guardians lead him to endure and join their ranks after he escapes. His brother Kludd’s resentment and cowardice leads him to sell his soul to the abominable Pure Ones, even as Soren braves danger to rally the Guardians. There is no room for reconciliation between good and true evil. The fratricidal conflict between them makes the battle of the Guardians and the Pure Ones both personal and mythical.  The battle between brothers on opposing sides brings to mind Dreamworks Animation’s Prince of Egypt, which before Owls of Ga’Hoole was probably the last animated American movie to truly portray a struggle between good and evil. Since animated movies are so preoccupied with the idea of reconciliation, the role of evil is to be a plot-initiator, or complication, or an obstacle to happiness. In Owls of Ga’Hoole, evil is a force in itself. The Pure ones are, without any ambiguity or obfuscation, given the ideas of fascists (“Remember, weakness is for the lower species, never for us.”) and the methods of warlords (“Some of you will be pickers. Some will be soldiers.”). The movie does not dwell on their viciousness to portray them as evil, and rather illustrates shades and gradations of evil in a way that shames most “adult” stories. The kidnapped owlets are given a welcoming speech lamenting how they have been abandoned by their families but declaring that they have a new one in the Pure Ones. The lie is so transparent that even its teller cannot bring much enthusiasm to it, providing an example of evil as banality. Nyra, the second-in-command of the Pure Ones, meanwhile not only has the unshakeable self-confidence of a true believer but also the intelligence and eloquence to seduce others to her cause – evil as fanaticism.  Soren’s brother Kludd chooses to join the Pure Ones as a soldier rather than accompany Soren into slavery and eventually into freedom – evil as cowardice. Metal Beak, the monstrous leader of the Pure Ones, illustrates evil as sadism and a traitorous Guardian chooses evil out of opportunism (like the Spartan fifth column in 300). The shades of evil have their heroic counterpart, even if the rushed pace does not allow the movie to fully do justice to them. Thus its portrait of evil is more convincing than its portrait of good, though not for a lack of effort. Soren’s fantasies of heroism form the story’s moral framework even if they are poorly visualized, though their insubstantiality might be the point. When he finally discover the Guardians and tells that others were with him, their queen tells him that they already know. It is the confidence and competence that we wish to hear in crises. The king and queen treat the escaped children with understated but profound kindness and patience that summarises their noble idealism.  The king and queen, despite their slim roles, are the kind of adults that inspire trust and faith in children, but such figures are so rare these days that the movie is already making great strides by including them in the first place. Lyze of Kiel, on the other hand is the kind of adult most able to teach children. Soren’s hero turns out to be diminutive and haggard grouch who is not impressed by a child who play-acted the wars in which he himself fought. Dialogue such as the following is impossible to imagine in animated movies by Disney, Pixar, or Dreamworks: “Well, this is what it looks like when you’ve actually fought in battle. It’s not glorious, it’s not beautiful, and it’s not even heroic. It’s merely doing what’s right. And doing it again and again, even if someday you look like this.” Even the last studio’s Prince of Egypt would shy away from it. Zack Snyder is able to use the animal characters to abstract violence, focusing on moral confrontation rather than dwelling on transgression. 2018’s overrated Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (which shows that non-animator directors don’t always make good animated movies) tried to express a similar ethos, but It rang obviously false because no one involved knew what it means to do the right thing. It does not mean fighting trivial comic book baddies. But as in the Avengers meta-franchise, the number of superheroes in Spider-Verse increases the to compensate for the lack of any genuine heroism. This is why it’s platitudes about “getting knocked down and getting back up” were just platitudes. Zack Snyder later expanded on Lyze of Kiel’s speech with Man of Steel, the greatest superhero movie ever made, whose insistent truthfulness in portraying the pain of heroism was met with virulent opposition. This all makes Owls of Ga’Hoole sound terribly serious, which it is, but it has more bright light and wonder than darkness. The script’s approach to comedy deserves some attention. In general, most clichés of animated comedy are avoided. There is no overload of sarcasm as in so many other movies. A pair of idiot henchmen are introduced early on, and after they’ve served their role, they fade into the background. There is no scene where they receive their humiliating comeuppance, one that other filmmakers might feel to be absolutely necessary.  Early in the movie, the hero’s little sister regurgitates her first pellet, and in any other’s animated story this would be a set-up for a later scene where someone resolves a problem by ejecting a pellet out of their guts. This simply never happens in ]Owls of Ga’Hoole. The restraint at work deserves all possible praise. Another example of avoiding a tiresome joke is that there is no moment where the owls ridiculously twist their neck backwards. This real Strigiforme behaviour is such obvious comedic opportunity that only someone exceedingly disciplined would choose to ignore it. Some obligations cannot seem to be avoided, though, and the low point of the movie comes when the heroes are introduced to the Harry Potter-inspired society of the Guardians in a montage set to a pop turn that serves only to remind the viewer that the movie is based on some cruddy book series. The setting is vaguely sketched in general, and today it would face pseudo-criticism over “bad world-building”. The part is however redeemed by wonderful imagery. The story has its share of comic relief characters, but these characters are not clownish: they have no propensity for slapstick or for cracking jokes. They are comical because they appear to be out of touch with reality, while the chief heroes and villains remain unflappably earnest. This gives the movie’s humour a nervous aspect, and if anything, the comedy underlines the movie’s pleasant gravitas. Zack Snyder, with his co-screenwriters, is able to characteristically tell a serious story where the humour never deflates the action. It’s a trademark for Snyder’s movies: being weighty without ever overburdening the audience, except the hyperventilating online types for a movie “taking itself too seriously” is a mortal sin. Owls of Ga’Hoole unfortunately shows how it is possible for a great movie to not leave any impression on its audience whatsoever. The movie is ten or fifteen minutes too short, and never has quite enough time to plant its themes and let them grow naturally. The characters are constantly moving, discovering things, or fighting, which means that there’s hardly a single “quiet” moment in the whole movie. There are plenty of worse movies with worse stories and messages, but they are more successful because they delivered those worse stories and messages much more effectively. The movie is a masterpiece, but one that demands some graciousness on the part of the viewer come meet it halfway through to fully appreciate it. This is a tall order with family audiences who simply want to be have fun. But those willing to forgive the rushed pace and sometimes slim characterization will be rewarded with a movie that ranks among the highest achievements of CGI animation. BravestOfTheLamps fucked around with this message at 08:13 on Mar 9, 2019 |
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Mar 8, 2019 22:48
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Hedrigall posted:I thought Like I said, people have been primed to think of animated movies on the basis of gimmicks. Because the movie has nothing that could serve as a gimmick, people forget it.
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Mar 9, 2019 00:11
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There's nothing wrong with the movie's plot and characterization except being rushed.
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Mar 9, 2019 00:20
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Acebuckeye13 posted:I really don't want to spend too much time replying to Lamps, but I do want to say that the idea that live-action directors are somehow superior to animated film directors is hilariously laughable. Ga'Hoole and Tintin, CGI movies by primarily live action directors, are all superior to CGI movies by animator-directors. Professional animators have made dozens of these movies and got upstaged by dabblers. In fact, most big movie today are de facto CGI animated. Animators don't have a particular advantage in directing. BravestOfTheLamps fucked around with this message at 01:17 on Mar 9, 2019 |
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Mar 9, 2019 01:14
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Digamma-F-Wau posted:a lot of action films involve storyboards: Bryan Andrews (an animator on Iron Giant, one of the main storyboard artists on Samurai Jack, and co-creator/storyboard supervisor on Symbionic Titan) has done storyboards for a lot of Marvel films, for instance Why do they look like garbage then?
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Mar 9, 2019 01:28
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A short list of CGI movies inferior to Ga'Hoole and Tintin: - every Pixar movie - every Disney CGI release - every Dreamworks CGI release
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Mar 9, 2019 01:32
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Acebuckeye13 posted:It's almost like live-action directors aren't inherently better at utilizing animation! Disney-Pixar-Dreamworks films are made under the same corporate pressures. The obvious example I pointed out is that all of their character designs have to double as toy designs, something that obviously didn't happen with Ga'Hoole. Digamma-F-Wau posted:at least Lamps hasn't gone full contrarian and stated Spiderverse is worse than those two yet You didn't read the review, did you?
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Mar 9, 2019 01:43
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Yeah, you can notice that the merchandising doesn't look anything like the movie. The designs are too complex to replicate as toys. The movie's characters look like animals rather being cartoon versions of animals.
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Mar 9, 2019 02:02
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asecondduck posted:How on earth fould anyone claim that Man of Steel is the best superhero film, especially in the animation thread, when Spider-Verse exists? For many reasons, probably the simplest being that it has a real superhero. e: FilthyImp posted:Owls aside, the idea that a great movie would just roll off your back and leave no lasting impression is... sure a statement I guess. Who made such a statement? BravestOfTheLamps fucked around with this message at 08:09 on Mar 9, 2019 |
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Mar 9, 2019 07:44
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The Silver Snail posted:Ah yes, owls, the toy maker's insurmountable nemesis. Animated characters aren't generally designed to faithfully resemble animals. They're supposed to be simplified versions - cartoons.  You can easily see which one was designed to resemble an owl and which one was designed to turn into a Happy Meals toy. The one from Ga'Hoole has realistic proportions and down, the one from a Madagascar movie already looks like plastic.
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Mar 9, 2019 10:07
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starkebn posted:Being "realistic" is one of the least virtuous things an animated product needs to be in my opinion Ga'Hoole's semi-realistic designs are a virtue because the toy-like character designs of most CGI movies make them look samey and boring. doomrider7 posted:Why is Spiderverse the best loving animated movie? Because of poo poo like this. doomrider7 posted:It's not just one of the best scenes in the movie, it's one of the best loving scenes in ANYTHING. It's was INCREDIBLY humanizing. That's nothing particularly impressive. The scene even goes for the obvious, non-naturalistic joke ("What's her name?").
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Mar 10, 2019 07:13
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