I don't watch too many films, but when I went to see Inside Out, I was expecting something on par with some of Pixar's great films of the early-to-mid 2000s. With the exception of Cars, every single one of Pixar's films released between 2003 and 2010 received great acclaim critically, quite an achievement given they have released a film every year since 2003.
But for the past few years there have been murmurs of a rut in Pixar. The Good Dinosaur, which was meant to be last year's Pixar film, won't be coming out until late this year or early next year, depending on which part of the world you live in. Prior to that, Pixar's record was somewhat shaky. 2010's Toy Story 3 was regarded as one of their greatest films ever. 2011's Cars 2 was regarded as their worst, and 2013's Monsters University was seen as a decent effort at best. Their only non-sequel in this time, Brave, was also met with 'good-but-not-great' reviews.
So, with Inside Out receiving an average score on par with Toy Story 3, surely it must be a well handled, complex story for all ages, the kind of thing Pixar has been renowned for.
This is not so.
Let's be clear: the underlying theme behind the movie - that the constant pursuit of happiness is impossible and unhealthy - is one worth exploring. The way we, as a society, deal with emotions and their place in our life is a subject that we are no closer to solving now than we were fifty years ago, when the cultural revolutions of the west took place.
But it is also a difficult theme to explore, and while Pixar deserves credit for being willing to tackle such a theme, the overall plot and accompanying characterisation feel more superficial than they should.
The story consists of two worlds: the inner world of an eleven year old girl, Riley, which contains all her thoughts and is headed by a group of emotions; and the real world in which Riley lives. Riley's actions in the real world seem to be primarily, but not entirely, guided by her emotions. But this established order has some doubt cast over it by her move from Minnesota to San Francisco, which forms the basis of the story. This move causes inner turmoil for her and, therefore, for her emotions, which are unable to deal with the new circumstances which she is in (thus raising the question of whether the emotions are actually in control, something that is never really addressed).
And then Joy, Sadness and all Riley's core memories get sucked up a pipe.
This is somewhat of a spoiler, but this one event sets the course for the rest of the movie, and is therefore responsible for the incredible frustration that is the middle act of this film. Unlike past Pixar films, which all take place in real locations - the suburbs of the US, the ocean, Paris, space, etc. - the main setting for this film is entirely imaginary. When we see an enormous structure in this setting, such as the islands of thought, there is no sense of wonder. After all, it did not take any effort to 'build' that structure, they simply appear. There is no real sense of scale either. We have no idea how long it might take to walk from one side of the brain to the other, so whenever the main characters manage to just miss getting on their path back to headquarters, it brings only frustration. The sense builds that every failure is simply being contrived to draw out the middle act. The train line collapses after being hit by debris from a falling island! The pipes to headquarters break because the structure they are built into is falling apart! The wagon that flies on the power of music doesn't quite have enough fuel to reach the top of the cliff! None of these events feel real. There is no sense that yes, these things could actually happen, and therefore it is logical for them to have occurred here. Of course, animated films always have some leeway with what could or could not occur, but in this case there is absolutely nothing to draw upon.
This all means that the plot feels directionless, made purely to draw out time in the film between the decent opening act and the enjoyable but short final act.
Perhaps this lack of direction is a reflection on the lack of an antagonist, which seems like a missed opportunity. There are five emotions which are meant to be living in our minds - joy, sadness, fear, disgust and anger - and yet all of them play the role of protagonist to some degree or another. There are no antagonists in the outside world either. Perhaps the idea of chaos is meant to be the antagonist, but the chaos of childhood is presented in such a positive light that this seems far-fetched as well.
In fact, perhaps the character best suited to playing the role of antagonist is one of the primary protagonists: Joy. Now, it may seem a bit churlish to complain about a character than personifies an emotion constantly embodying that emotion, but the problems with Joy's character run deeper than her constant happy-go-lucky nature. The biggest problem is how long it takes for her to learn anything. She spends three-quarters of the movie assuming that the other emotions - Sadness in particular - are inferior to herself, and less necessary. While there is an argument to make that such a belief is the truth, what it means for the story is that her sudden turnaround towards Sadness in the last part of the movie feels as though it lacks depth. Furthermore, it is difficult to be sympathetic towards her, as some of her actions seem genuinely cruel and selfish. She never bothers to properly explain her actions to any of the others, and yet all the other characters just accept this happening.
The second primary protagonist is Sadness. Unlike Joy, Sadness is easier to sympathise with, as she is normally the victim, and she is responsible for probably the most genuinely moving moment within the inner world. This moving moment is with Bing Bong, the imaginary friend of Riley that represents her disappearing childhood. Joy, too, has a moment intended to be of similar poignancy with Bing Bong, but it falls entirely flat thanks to how difficult it is to connect with both Joy and Bing Bong, and to how suddenly yet inevitably it occurs. But while Sadness has these strengths, she simply doesn't get the time on screen she needs to be an actual major character, and also never gets the chance to really explain herself and her actions, though not for want of trying. The characterisation of the two protagonists is also somewhat bothersome. Joy is a happy-go-lucky action girl, and Sadness is a shy bookworm. The underlying (presumably unintended) message being that those who aren't eager to be out and about all the time must be naturally less happy than those who are. It's a simple characterisation, but that does not make it less grating.
The other three emotions play secondary roles, but are all portrayed sympathetically, which seems to me to be an odd choice. Anger, especially, seems like a character ripe for the role of antagonist. Every decision that he makes is shown to have bad consequences for Riley and those around her. But despite this, Anger is used mostly as comic relief, which is admittedly done well. But surely, in a film which explores which emotions are worth feeling, there should be a recognition that anger is actually a dangerous emotion which is rarely used well. Fear is probably the most well used emotion, coming in where appropriate, such as early on when he saves Riley from falling over a power cord. Disgust, on the other hand, is a peculiar character, seemingly taking on the idea of social interaction more broadly. I'm not entirely sure what name would've been more apt for the character, but 'disgust' doesn't quite seem to fit.
The human characters are fairly stock-standard, as is perhaps necessary given they provide the setting and context, rather than being important characters in and of themselves. At least part of the praise for this movie has come from the moments between daughter and parent, but for the purposes of this article it is neither here nor there.
There is one other character worth looking at. I mentioned Bing Bong earlier, and how it was difficult to connect with him. In truth this is not because the character is difficult to sympathise with, but because I genuinely don't know what to make of the character. Being an entirely imaginary creature, his looks are complex, and this is also true of his character. Here is a naturally joyful, goofball character that is now lost, existing in the mind of a child that has outgrown him. I actually want to like the character, and at times I do, but then I think it over again and I return to not liking him. I doubt I will ever figure this out.
These flaws are, to my mind, what prevent Inside Out from being a genuinely great film. So why, then, have reviews been so glowing?
I suspect there are two reasons which are working in tandem. Firstly, reviewers love the idea of the film, a film about the emotions that we all feel, and how we are meant to feel them in a world where we are constantly called upon to be happy. Second, we want Pixar to be great again. Anything which feels like a step towards this will likely be treated as though it is indeed a return. The danger of this is that, should Pixar genuinely make something of such quality in the next few years, there is only so many ratings points left for them.
This is not intended to be an even-handed critique, as there are still many things the film does well. I just find it odd that the film is being so highly lauded, when, to my eyes, it does not reach the heights of past Pixar films.
No comments:
Post a Comment