Kat’s Film and Book Reviews

The Incredibles, 2004

Pixar/Disney

Directed by Brad Bird

Rated PG

It will not come as a shock to anyone that the world is rough on nice guys. And gals. People who have good hearts are paid lip service, and when we say that someone is nice we mean it in a complimentary way. We even hold up niceness to our children as an ideal for behavior and interaction: play nice, be nice, that’s not nice. But the truth is, the world, by which I mean the culture and the systems which order our life, does not nurture niceness. Sharing, helping, going out of one’s way to be kind, are met with suspicion, opposition and ridiculed as childish virtues. Ruthlessness, competition, and self-interest, while never explicitly encouraged, are the values of winners.

What happens, if, for the sake of the extremes of animation and the communication of the point, we took that dichotomy as far as it could go? What if the nice guys were more than just nice, more than just helpful? They would be Superheroes, the ultimate Nice People. They would be amazing people seeking only to do good, with bodies and skills that reflected the size of the hearts beating within. So, a man with enough inner strength to step out of his myopic world and lend a hand becomes a man with enough physical strength to help in extreme situations. He becomes Bob Parr, Mr. Incredible. And a woman who can multitask and care for others out of the deep wells of her compassion and omnicompetence becomes a woman who can stretch without snapping, who can be in two places at once without tearing herself in two. She becomes Helen Parr, Elastigirl.

And what does the world do to nice people? Especially Super nice people? It isn’t pretty. Mr. Incredible, in the course of his other professional nice guy duties, saves the life of a man preparing to jump out a window. The man slaps a “wrongful life” suit on him, and the floodgates are opened to lawsuits against anyone trying to help anyone without their express consent. The Superheroes are put out of business and sent into the Superhero Protection Program, where they are instructed to live out their lives in unremarkable anonymity. They’re not supposed to bother anyone with their inclinations to be helpful.

But some instincts run too deep to bury. Bob and his best friend Lucius, also a retired Superhero, can be found sitting in their car in dark alleys listening to the police scanner, and sometimes, it must be said, they give in to temptation. Yes, they go and help people. It’s illegal, it’s unappreciated, and their wives won’t be amused, but they can’t help it. Because they’re really good guys.

That’s just the set-up, of course. The rest of the action takes place when the opportunity to use their powers arises, causes a lot of trouble, and the Parr family has to decide who they really are. Their children have to be taught how to focus and control their powers, and Bob and Helen have to be reminded what really matters in the end. One of the beautiful things about this film is the portrayal of Bob and Helen’s marriage. There’s tension here, and not everybody is perfect all the time. But these two love each other for better or worse, and when the going gets tough, whether it’s an attack by a Supervillian or a chaotic family dinner, these two come through for each other, often with the kids in tow.

The acting is led by very strong performances by Craig T. Nelson and Holly Hunter as Bob and Helen. In a solely vocal performance, they convey love, competitiveness, anger, fear, relief, jealousy, and a whole host of other complex emotions in such a way that we forget that the art-deco sets and primary color schemes are not the real world. They may be animated, but every marriage should be this strong. In a tense moment when Elastigirl and two of her three offspring (baby Jack-Jack is home with a traumatized sitter) have just saved Mr. Incredible from the clutches of the villain Syndrome, Bob tells Helen to take the kids and wait outside so that he can finish the job. She interprets this as a sexist remark and is indignant, but Bob blurts out that for all his muscles, he’s not strong enough to lose her again. Nelson’s and Hunter’s acting in this scene is intense, the characters’ expressions are exquisite, and the audience is deeply touched by the dramatic purity of the scene. This is a top quality cinematic moment.

Mention also should be given to actors Samuel L. Jackson as Lucius/Frozone, and Jason Lee as the side-kick-wannabe-turned-Supervillian, Syndrome. If their performances aren’t as deep as those of Nelson and Hunter, they do their jobs and give us a friend we love to depend on and an enemy we love to hate. And of course, director Brad Bird himself, as Edna Mole, supersuit designer to the heroes. More than any other character, Edna makes Superheroism seem positively normal. In fact, she seems quite convinced that it would be normal, if not for the chic outfits she herself provides.

The partnership between writer/director Brad Bird and Pixar Studios is a fortuitous one. Pixar enjoys a well-deserved reputation as the industry’s leading creator of high-quality family films, such as Toy Story 1 and 2, Monsters, Inc., and Finding Nemo. And Bird, in his work on the “Simpsons,” the “King of the Hill,” and The Iron Giant, has shown us that in the midst of lives that range from mundane to extraordinary, nice people can have compelling and complex stories to tell. I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say that in The Incredibles, Bird sticks to his strengths, and the nice guys come out on top.

Meet the Robinsons

2007

Rated G

Directed by Stephen Anderson

I was first introduced to this film through the Rob Thomas song, “Little Wonders,” which was on the soundtrack.  The song is a poignant tribute to the small things that make up a good life, the “little wonders” that take place in the “small hours.”  The things that make up a family and the memories that form it. 

This movie is about family, but it’s also about taking responsibility for your life.  The two themes are connected; it’s only when you are true to your gifts and take responsibility for your failures that you even become capable of cherishing those little wonders and small hours. 

The film begins with a flashback 12 years, to when a furtive, cloaked woman leaves a baby on the doorstep of an orphanage.  Twelve years later, that baby, named Lewis, is on his 124^th adoption interview, but none of his prospective parents have understood his passion for science and inventing.  He complains about his apparent unwantedness—even his mother didn’t want him—to the orphanage director, who gently reminds him that perhaps his mother couldn’t take care of him, not that she didn’t want him.

Fueled by that thought, he attempts to invent a brain-scanner, so that he can scan his own infant memories and get the information he needs to find his mother.  This desire motivates him throughout the film, as he learns about the bonds of love that make a family.

He gets a visitor from a young man from the future, who claims to be a time cop, but is in fact his future son, Wilbur.  The rest of the film has Lewis and Wilbur trying to repair a mistake that Wilbur made, while avoiding a cartoonish enemy, the man in the bowler hat.  They zip back and forth in time machines, present to future to past to present, encountering the memorable Robinson family and a few other interesting people.

The film is an interesting and brightly colored combination of You Can’t Take It With You and Back to the Future.  Some reviewers have claimed that the back-and-forth of the time travel is hard to follow, but most kids don’t find it so.  The villain isn’t scary so much as a nuisance, but provides comedic relief in several places. 

Lewis is able to let go of his desire to illuminate the past, to find his mother; a struggle that mirrors director Stephen Anderson’s experience as an adoptee who has not felt a desire to search for his birthparents.  It’s possible that some adoptees will not relate to how easily Lewis is able to turn his back on his past in order to “keep moving forward,” as the film’s motto suggests, but as an adoptive parent, I was gratified by Lewis’ realization that in the love of his new family, he has everything he needs.

The pay-off of the film, of course, is watching young Lewis find his place in a family as unique as he is.  No matter how many times we see it, there’s something deeply satisfying about watching the misfit find where he belongs.  Since we all feel that way sometimes, it gives us hope that we will find and claim our own rightful place.