WE LIVE IN A BEAUTIFUL WORLD
Rating: 8.5 out of 10
Smack in the middle of the film lies an action sequence
better than anything I’ve seen this year. It involves the Eiffel Tower and it
is thrilling in every way. It was here I was struck by something. This film is a
thorough original. It didn’t remind me of any other film and its influences
were not blatant. The highest earning films this year, or the past few years,
have all been franchise films. Even the original films, like Gravity (2013) and
Interstellar (2014) feel heavily influenced by films before. There are some obvious (and great) Star Wars references but Tomorrowland does
not give you the comfort by reminding you of an already existing great film and
that is as rare as it gets. (Okay maybe it reminded me of The Jetsons at some places)
The final act drowns out the action with talk. Some of it may be heavy handed and its philosophical messages might come across as old-fashioned to some. For me, it was a breath of fresh air amongst blockbusters, which climax into destruction. Oddly enough, a film is treated with disdain if it preaches goodness or has one sentimental dialogue but nobody lifts a finger when it’s overtly cynical or violent. The latter is cool but the former rarely is.
Rating: 8.5 out of 10
The opening of Tomorrowland has nostalgia stamped all over
it. It was during this majestic and stunning sequence that I had two concurrent
thoughts. I wondered how young adult fiction nowadays focuses on dystopia.
Whatever happened to utopia? The immediate realization after it dawned on me:
this will never work with today’s audience. Tomorrowland is every bit as
beautiful, imaginative and ambitious as a summer movie ought to be but in 2015, it is a
fool’s hope to think it will be successful.
Brad Bird has the vision of a certified dreamer and the
heart of a child. The Iron Giant (1999), The Incredibles (2004) and Ratatouille
(2007) showcase every bit of it. In case you didn’t notice, the denouement
makes it clear as crystal that this film is for the bursting hearts, the dreamers,
and the champions of optimism. I was soaked in the beauty of the film and its mighty
heart. The visuals are strikingly magnificent and the ideas are inspiring. Pardon
me, for not noticing that the plot was meandering and the screenplay did not
follow classical structure of plot points to hook the audience.
The film doesn’t hide its intentions. We see two points of
view – Frank Walker (George Clooney) is cynical about the future and Casey
Newton (Britt Robertson) is more optimistic. When Casey was a child she looks
at the stars and wants to go to there. Frank reflects when he was a child “the
future was different”. We see a flashback set in 1964 where young inventor Frank
(Thomas Robinson) with his jetpack(!) goes into Tomorrowland and sees the most
magical place. Both Frank and Casey are invited by Athena (Raffey Cassidy) with
the help of a pin. I found the relationship between Frank and Athena incredibly moving.
The final act drowns out the action with talk. Some of it may be heavy handed and its philosophical messages might come across as old-fashioned to some. For me, it was a breath of fresh air amongst blockbusters, which climax into destruction. Oddly enough, a film is treated with disdain if it preaches goodness or has one sentimental dialogue but nobody lifts a finger when it’s overtly cynical or violent. The latter is cool but the former rarely is.
It’s sad that this film’s fate is pre-ordained. Telling the
audience what to do is a strict no-no. Making them reflect on their choices,
causing guilt, is worse. "Are you saying I'm a part of what's wrong with the world? How dare you?" Moreover, it's sad how critics/ audience are obsessed with feminism nowadays but nobody will find feminist hurrah here even when it passes the Bechdel test with flying colors and also has, not one but, two strong female characters carrying the whole film. No gender role reversal or attacks, just plain storytelling, treating its characters as human beings first. (or robots, for that matter)
What will get lost in this tussle is the amazing score by Michael Giacchino. He channels John Williams perfectly and creates some of his best themes. The visual effects are seamlessly intercut and quite simply, magnificent. The art direction captures the imagination and makes the world believable. I want to see the film again just to watch those gravity/infinity pools.
What will get lost in this tussle is the amazing score by Michael Giacchino. He channels John Williams perfectly and creates some of his best themes. The visual effects are seamlessly intercut and quite simply, magnificent. The art direction captures the imagination and makes the world believable. I want to see the film again just to watch those gravity/infinity pools.
It was just last week we saw a summer action film, Mad Max:
Fury Road that blew the world away. Kids were raving about it and adults
couldn’t get enough of it. The dystopian young adult fiction and dystopian 80s
action had amalgamated into a crazy cinematic thrill-ride and the reaction was
unanimously euphoric. I thought it was dextrously made and probably the best
action film since the last best action film.
Albeit, something kept nagging me after the film ended. This
film may be the most immaculately made piece of work, working its audience like
a charm, but is it my movie? Is it what I want to watch? I knew in my heart it
wasn’t. I felt a major disconnect from the audience once the reactions trickled
in. Why is it that everyone could love this film like it's the successor of
Citizen Kane (1941), which I simply failed to see? Why couldn’t this film have
been a bit more hopeful about the future? Why is "hope a mistake"? Such questions are now deemed as
nitpicks and drowned out in collective cinematic celebration. Little did I know
these questions were going to be heard soon? Last week’s Nux became this week’s
Nix.
I digress. Therefore, I must analogize. Tomorrowland
features a sequence where Casey is in class. All the teachers are focusing on
how the world is doomed. The class sits enraptured in fear. Casey put her hand
up. The teachers don’t notice or give her a chance to speak. Finally she gets
her chance. All she asks is: “I get things are bad but what are we doing to fix it?” She doesn’t just
dream, but acts on it.
There will always be an audience for post-apocalyptic
dystopian shtick, because it sells, but somebody has to put their hand up and
not accept fear mongering. Somebody has to seek responsibility. Will
Tomorrowland find its audience? I will forever be optimistic.
No comments:
Post a Comment