Rabbit Season

Year: 2018

Director: Will Gluck

Cast: James Corden, Rose Byrne, Domhnall Gleeson

Run Time: 1 hour 33 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

Over the past month, my heart has warmed considerably to children's entertainment. After being bowled over by Babe, Paddington and Paddington 2 swept in with a double decker blow of adorable earnestness that laid me flat. I've always been open to watching kids' movies, but I'm typically a hard sell, so I was wondering if my resistance was finally beginning to crumble. So Peter Rabbit came at the perfect time to see if my dulled resistance just needed a non-masterpiece as a whetstone.

As an updated feature based on a classic British children's story, it has a very similar pedigree to Paddington, so what could go wrong?

Peter Rabbit begins with a story you know well. Mischievous bunny rabbit Peter (James Corden), with the support of his sisters Flopsy (Margot Robbie, for some reason), Mopsy (Elizabeth Debicki, for slightly more understandable reasons), and Cottontail (Daisy Ridley, for no reason whatsoever) among other woodland creatures, sneaks into the garden of Old Farmer McGregor (Sam Neill, for a reason so nanoscopic that scientists are still debating its existence) to steal some delicious vegetables. So far, so familiar. Until the part where Peter Rabbit tries to shove a carrot up the old man's ass and then he dies of a heart attack. Yeah, I don't remember Beatrix Potter jotting down that one.

Bring in the younger, sexier cast! The rabbits have always been cared for by McGregor's sensitive painter neighbor Bea (Rose Byrne), but when McGregor's fussy, city-boy nephew Thomas (Domhnall Gleeson) moves in, the rabbits are frustrated to discover that the two are falling in love. Thomas has managed to convince Bea that he is a wildlife lover, but in the meantime, he is engaging in a war against Peter Rabbit and his cronies, attempting to keep them off the property he has inherited and is attempting to sell.

Also, his laundry bill must be insane, considering all the produce that gets smashed into the fabric.

Peter Rabbit is actually two movies that are constantly warring with one another. The first is a delightful romantic comedy starring a pair absurdly underrated and hilarious actors. The second is an execrable "family friendly" hash of violent slapstick and clunky gags starring irritating CGI monstrosities. Peter Rabbit obviously only desires to be the latter, but the former keeps accidentally slipping in and reminding you how pleasurable this whole experience had the opportunity to be.

But let's focus on that good - perhaps even great - movie for the time being. Domhnall Gleeson is in terrific form here, flipping between big physical comedy and subtle, character-based humor without breaking a sweat. There's a sequence where he attempts to understand birdwatching that frankly belongs on his future lifetime achievement reel. Rose Byrne is given considerably less to do, considering that her character is clueless of the entire plot, but she provides an excellent foil for Gleeson's antics, and has a couple standout moments of her own.

The human plot is so swell that a huge belly laugh line is even given to a taxi driver character who appears in two scenes. There's more than enough to go around here.

But I literally can't even find a proper still of Rose Byrne, so that just goes to show how little the filmmakers value this film's strongest elements.

Ay, there's the rub. There's no way Peter Rabbit wasn't going to be about Peter Rabbit, but when he hops into the frame he brings with him everything that's unbearable and generic about the movie. At least the anthropomorphic animal CGI is mostly fine (save for one scene involving the rabbits in a football huddle, which we see at an angle that's downright criminal in its ugliness), but the second he opens his mouth you know you've been locked into an iron maiden of subpar children's movie material.

James Corden's performance style is what makes him perfect for a late night show: every word out of his mouth drips with the desperate demand that you find him charming and lovable. Honestly, this isn't a liability for a kids' flick, but when you combine that with the fact that the character is an unmitigated asshole, it's incredibly grating, like rubbing sandpaper directly on your eyes. For some reason, the screenwriters seem to think that the height of comedy is having a character make a joke, then immediately undermine it by either explaining it to death or making a quip about just how wacky they're being. 

Every gag is a one-two punch; an unfunny joke, then a follow-up that saps whatever minuscule scrap of energy it had to its name. Then there are all the requisite cliché details that come with being a movie for children in the 2010's: a million unnecessary dance sequences, random jokes "for the adults" (including a horribly misguided "pour one out for a fallen homie" gag that is repeated more than once, for heaven's sake), and an obnoxiously trendy soundtracks full of on-the-nose needle drops, including the most inescapable songs of the day (most egregiously "Feel It Still" by Portugal the Man, which is the most dangerously saccharine earworm this side of "Can't Stop the Feeling!" and "Happy").

None of them are BAD songs per se, but you wouldn't want to meet one in a darkened alley.

All of this is interspersed with incredibly violent slapstick that is just plain cruel (there's a gag about inflicting anaphylactic shock that has no business being in a movie not directed by, say, Quentin Tarantino) and occasionally nonsensical (a scene about McGregor being pelted with fruit while attempting to hold a conversation with Bea really tests the limits of Rose Byrne's ability to play oblivious). 

In short, almost nothing about these scenes that form 70 percent of the movie works on any level. There's the occasional spot of brilliance, like the 2D animated flashback sequence that uses the aesthetic of the original novels to tremendous effect, or a montage of Old McGregor's unhealthy choices that shows the filmmakers probably at least saw the trailer to Paddington. But in the end, it's all for naught. It's a noxious, irritating experience made even more painful by the fact that it mars what could have honestly been a pretty fun movie about two humans navigating a relationship, though it's quite self-evident that that was in no way the movie anybody wanted to make.

I'm happy those splendid moments are there, but there's no way they're worth sitting though the rest of this drivel. Also, on the Babe front, there's a "that'll do, pig" joke that made me want to screech with righteous fury. Rule of thumb: Don't strive to remind audiences of movies that blow yours so far out of the water you've entered the Earth's orbit.

TL;DR: Peter Rabbit is an irritating kids' movie, with just enough of a much better movie peeking through that it's not entirely a slog.

Rating: 4/10

Word Count: 1170

Neither Hair Nor There

Year: 2016

Director:Walt Dohrn & Mike Mitchell

Cast: Anna Kendrick, Justin Timberlake, Zooey Deschanel

Run Time: 1 hour 32 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

The Troll dolls are a terrible concept for a movie. They haven’t been relevant for eons, there’s no inherent narrative to their existence, and any film about them could only be a crass cash-in. Then again, that’s what they said about The Lego Movie, and look how that turned out. Then again again, that’s what they said about Smurfs and look how that turned out. Case-by-case basis it is, then. Let’s do this thing.

For the record, Sergio dragged me to see this. It was not my choice.

In Trolls, the Trolls are a happy-go-lucky race hiding from the Bergens, ravenous giants who believe that the only way to achieve happiness is by eating Trolls. Look at how many times I had to say “Trolls” just in that sentence. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.

To make a long story short, bubbly Troll Princess Poppy (Anna Kendrick) throws a raucous party that attracts the attention of an outcast Bergen chef (Christine Baranski) who captures a handful of Trolls that she hopes to use on the adolescent King Gristle (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) to take over the crown somehow. Poppy must team up with the pessimistic survivalist Troll Branch (Justin Timberlake) to travel across the forest to Bergen town and save her friends, maybe learning a thing or two about true happiness along the way.

Like kids need lessons on being giddy buffoons with no sense of personal space.

Trolls is everything wrong with Dreamworks animation. It’s packed with a billion characters designed to both sell dolls and shoehorn in cameos from celebrities you forgot existed (cough cough, Russell Brand), at the expense of defining any side-Troll’s personality beyond maybe half a character trait, if they’re lucky. It closes on a  big ol’ dance party that, like Home before it did for Rihanna, implies that Justin Timberlake music has the power to heal the universe. And it carries a lethal dose of juvenile, scatological humor. There’s literally a character whose only function is to fart glitter. And I don’t know why all kids’ movies in the past decade have decided that people spontaneously poop when they’re scared, but I’ve been sitting through these jokes since at least 2007 (AKA the worst scene in Enchanted), and let me clue you in on a little secret: They’re not getting any funnier.

But here’s the thing. Trolls does all this, yet it’s still inexplicably kind of delightful. There’s nothing new under the fuzzy yellow sun to be found in this story, but the movie succeeds on sheer charm, led by two of the most likeable actors we have on tap these days. Anna Kendrick embodies the usually irritating archetype of the chipper, naïve character (which was last successful some four years ago in Wreck-It Ralph) with a layer of soft humanity that makes her an actual character rather than a pest, and Justin Timberlake Odd Couples the sh*t out of her, developing an easy, warm chemistry between the mismatched characters.

You can tell the side performers are having fun too. Although not a single one of the assorted B-Trolls leaves any kind of impression, save for a deliciously creepy baby that steals each of her two scenes, Zooey Deschanel works it as the phlegmatic Bergen scullery maid, crafting a character that for once isn’t a Dreamy Lollipop Girl. And Christine Baranski is pure, syrupy evil, building a campy pantomime character out of a villain she is well aware doesn’t make much sense.

Look, she was in Mamma Mia! She could do this with her hands tied behind her back.

Trolls also boasts an overarching aesthetic that – while not totally mind-blowing – at least shows that people were trying, every step of the way. There’s a lot of fun business with the Trolls’ hair, using it as a malleable camouflage device to create all kinds of bizarre shapes and structures around the characters, some of which are incredibly inventive. And miraculously, they only make one terrible “hair” pun.

Pretty much everything is just a step or two above generic, but that’s all enough to make it one of the better children’s films out there at the moment. Take the soundtrack, a typically inane mixture of the world’s most obvious pop standards (“Celebrate” by Kool & the Gang, “September” by Earth, Wind, and Fire…. It’s like they found a list of the most overused movie tracks, accidentally clicked “purchase,” and decided to roll with it) and generic bubblegum originals, but it inexplicably works.

Some tracks, like a cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” benefit from Kendrick Pitch Perfecting it up and producing a quite lovely new arrangement. Others, like Lionel Richie’s “Hello,” are supported by a strong vocal actor (Zooey Deschanel in this case) working with the trippy designs to make something vibrant and idiosyncratic. And then there’s Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors,” pulled out in a moment of need, which briefly transforms the movie into a subdued, beautiful light show in the indisputable best moment of the film.

The originals fare just as well, hitting typical musical theater beats with gusto. Kendrick’s “Get Back Up Again” is the best girl power pop track in a year that’s riddled with them, buoyed by Kendrick’s unrelenting energy. And Bergentown is introduced with an amusingly dour number that’s part The Producers’ “Unhappy,” part Little Shop of Horrors’ “Skid Row,” all deliciously overwrought misery.

It’s just plain fun, and while the humor is mostly forgettable (they trot out “YOLO” a flat two years too late for a regretful gag), each of the cast members is given the chance to nail a line or two. If you have kids or an affinity for animated cinema, you could certainly do worse. It’s certainly better than the aforementioned Home and this year’s The Secret Life of Pets.

TL;DR: Trolls is a surprisingly decent, harmless family film.

Rating: 6/10

Word Count: 1000

Grim Fairy Tales

Year: 2014

Director: Rob Marshall

Cast: Meryl Streep, Anna Kendrick, James Corden

Run Time: 2 hours 5 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

The transition from stage to screen is not an easy one. Musicals rely on the energy of the audience, so pre-packaging a living and breathing live show into one endlessly reusable piece is a tricky endeavor. Sometimes it's a successfully thrilling conversion (Little Shop of Horrors, Hedwig and the Angry Inch), sometimes it's downright repugnant (Bye Bye Birdie, The Phantom of the Opera), and sometimes it's a magnificently slapdash spectacle of glitter and misguided cameos (Rock of Ages, Mamma Mia!). Into the Woods, adapted from Steven Sondheim's 1986 stage show, is a little bit of all three, though it survives on the strength of one of the most effective celebrity casts in recent memory.

I'm definitely not being biased by Chris Pine's hair. Definitely.

Into the Woods combines several different fairy tales into one dark, cohesive tapestry about coming of age, parenthood, exploring the world outside one's humdrum life, and learning to accept responsibility. The cast of familiar characters includes Cinderella (Anna Kendrick) and Prince Charming (Chris Pine), who meet at a ball under magical circumstances against the wishes of an Evil Stepmother (Christine Baranski); Jack (Daniel Huttlestone of Les Misérables) and his Beanstalk of Opportunity; Little Red Riding Hood (Lilla Crawford), who encounters a Wolf (Johnny Depp) on the way to her grandmother's house; and Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy), trapped up in her tower patiently waiting to let her hair down for the right Prince (Billy Magnussen).

When a childless Baker (James Corden) and his Wife (Emily Blunt) learn of a curse placed upon their household by the Witch (Meryl Streep) next door, they set off on an adventure to find four magical objects to reverse the spell before three nights pass. On their journey, they split up and regroup and encounter various other characters making their merry way through the woods. It's basically one of those chase scenes from Scooby Doo, with characters popping in and out of closets and running into one another all across the forest.

Also like Scooby Doo, there's a creepy live action dog.

As a medium for showcasing the syncopated rhythms and delicate wordplay of Sondheim's compositions with crispness and clarity, Into the Woods is an unequivocal success. Although the cast is star-studded, many of them have previously proven themselves as vocal talents in films or on the Great White Way: Meryl Streep and Christine Baranski in Mamma Mia!, Anna Kendrick in Pitch Perfect, Lilla Crawford in Annie... And Johnny Depp? Well, he really isn't in very much of the film.

And the newcomers are of a piece startlingly suited for the challenge. Emily Blunt has a clear, chirpy voice that isn't tested by overly-challenging pieces, and Chris Pine has a rich, dreamy baritone that really needs to be taken advantage of in larger roles. Or at least televised karaoke pajama parties.

The film shines brightest during its first half, during which the fairy tales are enacted in fairly traditional, but uniquely overlapping nature. The cheerful chaos of the characters' various collisions is upbeat and energetic, mixed with some highly theatrical (and occasionally suspension of disbelief-shattering) lighting, staging, and costume design, especially in the otherwise unprepossessing Wolf sequence.

I mean, it's hard to make the Little Red tale look drab. *coughcoughAmandaSeyfried*

The actors feel most comfortable when they're embracing the "Whee! It's a musical!" aspect of these scenes. Not that any of them are untalented in other registers, but fairy tale characters rely on broad stereotypes and tonally the performers can find their match with ease. Chris Pine is dashing, Anna Kendrick is woebegone, Lilla Crawford is brash and outgoing. Wham bam, thank you ma'am. 

The sheer amount of fun they must be having just pours from the screen. Every one of the film's best sequences comes from this pure joy: the sprawling and fantastical opening number, Cinderella's spritely dash from the Prince, Little Red's encounter with the Baker, and the dashing, hilarious, campy idiocy of "Agony," the Princes' duet and the unimpeachable high-water mark of the entire show.

I suppose I would be remiss if I neglected to mention Meryl Streep's Oscar-nominated performance as the Witch, but there's not much there to talk about. Streep is a treasure, of course, but her old crone is not much more than an over-the-top, crack-addled spinster. To be fair, that's what the role calls for, but she's not exactly punishing herself to find the core of her character. But she has a superb belt and knocks all of her songs out of the park and that's more than I could ever ask for.

A superb belt, yes, but a superb dress and wig, too.

However, once the film makes a drastic tonal shift into the darker side of the fairy tale universe, the film loses its mooring. The performers strain to find purpose and the music dries up, becoming both less frequent and more self-serious. It is here that the Disneyfication of the show takes full effect as the film shies away from the original show's more morbid plot points.

The third act drags like an anchor as the company tones down the death, sex, and violence, removes some key scenes entirely, and plods on through to its now unmotivated conclusion. Frankly, the final third is an unholy mess, pushing a stone over the film's well of lively buoyancy and letting it die an ignominious subterranean death.

The film strains to reach the finish line and sputters, coughs, and dies three feet from the ribbon. The finale song, cut down to a wanly fading overdubbed monstrosity, is more like a funeral knell than a full-circle denouement. 

But all in all, the film ain't half bad. If you can stomach the unappetizing finale, Into the Woods is worth your time, especially if you've never expereinced the joy of seeing the show staged live. Despite its watered-down ambitions, it really is the next best thing. The cast is remarkably game to bring the songs to life, the setting is charmingly serene, and the music will be playing in your head all week. Maybe just take a nap when you hit the 90-minute mark.

TL;DR: Into the Woods is a lively fun musical that is brought down by a tampered-with finale.

Rating: 7/10
Word Count: 1058