It's Alive: FRANKENWEENIE

A black-and-white, stop-motion animated, family-friendly monster movie about life, death, and the ethics of scientific research, Tim Burton’s Frankenweenie is definitely not the kind of film that you see every day. It’s a skillful, inventive expansion of his 1984 live-action short of the same name. In this telling, it all starts when little Victor Frankenstein (Charlie Tahan) reacts in horror and disbelief when he sees his beloved dog Sparky flattened by a car. His parents (Catherine O’Hara and Martin Short) try to help their mourning son the best they can, but his movement through the stages of grief gets stuck at denial. And so, being a precocious, science-minded young fellow, he uses the excuse of the impending science fair to do a little reanimation in his spare time.

The core sentimental pulse of the story is simple, resting on nothing more than the love between a boy and his dog.  But when said love involves harnessing lightening to spark Sparky back to life, it’s clear that complications are inevitable. Burton, working with a screenplay by John August, has created a lovingly handcrafted little world into which this new scientific discovery can be introduced. Victor’s science teacher, a stern European émigré (Martin Landau) has put the love of science and competition into his class, a creepy collection of kids (voiced by Winona Ryder, Atticus Shaffer, Robert Capron, and James Hiroyuki Liao) with huge eyes, furrowed brows, and a jumble of thick accents and odd traits. One looks like Igor; another owns a poodle that looks a little like Elsa Lanchester. They’re a cast of characters that are poised for some kind of trouble. It’s only a matter of time before Victor’s secret resurrection becomes known, not only to his parents, but also to his classmates who will only be too eager to best him in pursuit of the top prize at the science fair.

This is a sharply made film, lovely in its high-contrast homage to Universal’s monster movies of the 30s and 40s filtered through a standard family film framework. It is also, of course, beautifully, obviously, clearly, a Tim Burton Film. It’s not just that he’s adapting his own earlier work. Here he’s made not his best film, but one of his most self-referential. One can find connections between this film and his earlier works: from stop-motion (Corpse Bride), black-and-white cinematography and Landau (Ed Wood) to Ryder and O’Hara (Beetlejuice); from a focus on coming to terms with the death of a loved one (Big Fish) to a quirky small town with a penchant for mob mentality (Edward Scissorhands). Not just a well-intentioned romp through his own greatest hits, Frankenweenie is the work of director taking some of the big ideas that course through his career and reworking them at a smaller scale.

Much like the dog at the center of the story, the film is a patchwork of inspirations that have been sewn together, repurposed for new life. They’re also both charming and appealing in an eager-to-please way. There’s a jolt of energy coursing through this rather short feature – just 87 minutes, including the end credits – that really ramps up in the delightful climax that finds Victor’s competitors trying their hands at reanimation. The sequence that follows is a cheerfully macabre – a little girl’s cat appears to explode with a grim, hilarious pop and fizz – smash of monster mayhem, building slowly to an agreeably towering goofy monstrosity. If Burton overdoes the sentimentality in the final seconds of the picture, arriving (as he did in his early short) at perhaps the wrong way for little Victor to get over the death of his dog, it can almost be forgiven. After all we’ve been through with these two, it’s just nice to know that the love between a boy and his dog can be immortal.

Where the Wimpy Kids Are: DIARY OF A WIMPY KID: DOG DAYS

Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days is the third movie based on Jeff Kinney’s popular – and pretty good – series of comedic books for school kids. These movies (a loose trilogy now, I suppose) are basically a bright, family friendly, big-screen sitcom. A good deal of the fun this time around is indeed a type of sitcom pleasure, watching all the old characters show up again, spending more time with them in a comfortable, relaxed setting that allows them to grow while still retaining their familiar personalities. Protagonist Greg Heffley (Zachary Gordon), an obliviously selfish but mostly-well-meaning seventh-grader, clashes with parents and teachers, hangs out with friends, schemes to get out of work and into fun, and pines for the cute girl in his class. Same as it ever was.

But predictability is, in this case, not so bad. The tropes of the Wimpy Kids are familiar, but in a contented way. Greg is a sharp comedic distillation of early adolescent moods and each movie finds new scenarios in which to embarrass him. They’re relaxed films that alternate their gags between observation and gross-out humor, sometimes merging the two. Each time around, the episodic comedy setpieces gather around a roomy narrative throughline. In the first film, the focus is on Greg starting middle school, and in the second, his relationship with his older brother (Devon Bostick). This movie moves the action from the school year to summer vacation where the plot mostly circles around his attempts to get near class cutie Holly Hills (Peyton List) and avoid getting in trouble with his dad (Steve Zahn) who is on a mission to spend time with him.

Antics include sneaking into a country club, a trip to an amusement park, and a prank-filled camping weekend, among other typical summer vacation plot developments. Unlike the earlier films, the pacing feels a little off and the big laughs don’t roll around as frequently. So, it’s probably the worst of the three, but not by much. There are still plenty of chuckles and a likable mood. And what the series gets consistently, exactly right is capturing the feeling of early-adolescent angst. There’s a sense that Greg both desires close relationships with family, with friends, with girls, and yet has an acute anxiety about physical proximity.

Many of the jokes in Dog Days play off of this tension, this push and pull, whether he’s grossed out by the touchy-feely, sharing-is-caring family of his best friend Rowley (Robert Capron), squeamish about walking through a community pool’s locker room, or overconfident that his Wii tennis skills will translate to the real thing. Other moments, when the film reaches for genuine sentiment, work just as well. The film’s last scene between Greg and his father is quiet, but so very satisfying and even just a little moving, as is the resolution of the plot between Greg and Holly.

Returning director David Bowers has an unassumingly nice way of staging these moments across the wide screen in a classical comedy way of simple, but precise blocking. This has the effect of helping moments like father and son trying to get a cut of meat away from a dog gain a kind of easy low-key slapstick charm. (The gross out scene that follows this moment is one of the funniest bits in the film.) Bowers also has a good way with actors, getting character actors like Zahn as the father and Rachael Harris as the mother to give charming performances as flawed but devoted parents. Bowers also trusts his young cast to carry much of the humor and gets some nice comedic work out of them. It’s a generous movie, giving funny moments to all involved.

Nonetheless, I’m a little disappointed with this installment. It all feels just a little past its sell-by date, often unable to find the right level of energy and novelty to animate many of its more tired summer vacation plot points. But I still really like the approach of these films and got a fair amount of laughs out of this one anyways. I just plain enjoyed spending time with these characters on new misadventures while I still can. The kids in the cast have probably just about aged out of the series. This time around heights are rising and voices are dropping, so I’d guess it ends here, especially with end credits that place pictures, one from each movie, next to characters’ names. I wish the series could have ended on a stronger note, but it’s still been a nice run.

It's Hard Out There for a Wimp: DIARY OF A WIMPY KID: RODRICK RULES

When we last saw 12-year-old Greg Heffley (Zachary Gordon), he had just started to get situated in middle school when summer arrived. That was the main emotional journey to be found in the sweet and funny Diary of a Wimpy Kid, a surprising delight that managed to be a fairly accurate portrayal, if a bit cartoonish, of the life of a sixth-grade boy. Now here we are with a sequel, Rodrick Rules, which manages to surprise in an entirely new way. It’s a sequel that lives up to its predecessor. Of course the novelty is gone, but the charm hasn’t yet worn off. (It helps, I suppose, that they’re based off of the first two in a series of entertaining books by Jeff Kinney.) It’s a pleasure to return to the world of these characters.

This movie, shot like an amiable widescreen sitcom, is mostly devoted to following the sibling tensions between Greg and his older brother Rodrick (a nimble, energetic performance from Devon Bostick), a relatable brotherly mix of hate and love that’s buoyed considerably by the sweet chemistry between the young actors. The central tension hardly throws the focus of the movie off balance, however. The loose, anecdotal structure of the film, with its casual set-ups and pay-offs, keeps the various elements of Greg’s life in a nice balance. There’s still plenty of conflict to be found at school, where a cute new girl (Peyton List) is a source of Greg’s first real crush, adding to the struggles at home with his parents (unfailingly amusing performances from Rachael Harris and Steve Zahn), or with his best friend Rowley (Robert Capron).

There’s a sense of comfort found settling back into the rhythms of this representation of very early adolescence. It’s a bright, sunny time spent with lovable characters. About the first film, I wrote that “It simply tells a story at a child’s level and trusts the audience of kids and adults alike to relate to experiences that are, at some level, universal.” That’s true here too. There’s a sense that director David Bowers (Flushed Away) and screenwriters Gabe Sachs and Jeff Judah (Freaks and Geeks) have a nice handle on the mindset of kids. It’s exaggerated, but not wholly unrealistic to view this time of one's life as a minefield of potential embarrassments and misplaced confidence. The interior life of Greg, who walks us through the story with judiciously utilized narration, is convincing and funny. His near-constant threats of social mortification (he’s like a kid-sized Ben Stiller) at school, a talent show, swimming pools, a roller rink, church, a retirement center, and even in his own home invariably arise from his constant self-centered momentum. And when he does learn lessons, there’s always a good chance that they just might stick.

As a work of adaptation, the filmmakers continue to find just the right ways to tweak the source material, keeping the highlights and adding mostly prudent moments that help with the flow. There’s little change between the first movie and its sequel as far as tone and approach are concerned, although this time around the gross-out humor is dialed back just a smidge, perhaps to make room for the one or two moments that had me laughing harder than I’ve laughed at any movie in several months. There aren’t very many fresh gags to be found, but rather old dependable gags played with enough variation and liveliness that they play good as new.

It’s a wider, warmer movie than its predecessor, despite its slightly narrower focus. It doesn’t attempt to capture the entire sweep of a school year, but still manages to capture the pace of middle school (albeit slightly softened, aimed, as it is, at a demographic even younger than the main character’s). Greg is caught awkwardly in a time where little kids are awfully childish, but high schoolers are still a looming menace and adults can seem strangely distant. That’s not uncommon for kids his age, but it is uncommon to see it explored with such perceptiveness on the big screen. This is broad, immensely likable comedy. I can only hope the studio can make another movie or two with these young actors before they age out of the roles. These are rare live-action family comedies that are genuinely funny and sensitive rather than coldly calculated for maximum flatulence and CG animals spitting out pop-culture references.

The Wimpy Years: DIARY OF A WIMPY KID

Too often, a family film can easily become toothless and lazy in a race to get to the lowest-common inoffensive denominator, so it’s heartening to see a family film that is not only trying, but excelling at being a fairly perceptive comedy about children. Diary of a Wimpy Kid is not dumb, it’s not safe, and it’s not stretching to include covertly adult humor to please parents. It simply tells a story at a child’s level and trusts the audience of kids and adults alike to relate to experiences that are, at some level, universal. My middle-school was not exactly like the one presented here, but the feelings were the same. Something about the combination of childhood whims and inconsistently aging peers creates a cauldron of awkwardness that manages to churn in similar ways generation after generation.

The movie is based on the first book in a series by Jeff Kinney. The books are absolutely charming, combining first-person diary entries with sweet and simple line drawings to tell the story of Greg Heffley, a boy starting sixth grade. They’re anecdotal and conversational, loosely plotted in an almost stream-of-consciousness style with an unrestricted, but highly subjective narrative that can sail backwards and forwards through fact and fantasy. It’s a small wonder of smart and sophisticated writing from a child’s point of view. It’s not weighty or dark, but rather a light and enjoyable lark. The movie gets the tone just about right, even going so far as to throw in little animated doodles and a narrating Greg in a kind of meta move that’s reasonably satisfying.

Greg is played by Zachary Gordon, a child actor in his first big role. He plays the character perfectly, with the kind of self-centered attitude, casual bouts of shallowness and wild inventiveness that, if he were older, would be considered slightly smug. At 12, though, he’s still immensely loveable, even when he’s making mischief. He’s struggling to fit in throughout the movie that shares the loose and episodic nature of the books. He’s conflicted most about his best friend Rowley (Robert Capron), who is increasingly looking like a detriment to Greg’s ambitions of becoming more popular. After all, Rowley still invites people to “play” instead of “hang out.” Greg’s older brother (Devon Bostick) gives him the dubious advice to ditch the friend if he ever wants to survive sixth grade.

It’s that quest to become more popular that loosely strings the anecdotes together. Greg moves through his first year of middle school running into all kinds of characters who could easily become stereotypes, and indeed are presented as exaggerated, but keep in mind that we have an unreliable narrator and, besides, most characters are sketched in such a way that they vaguely reminded me of types of kids and teachers that I knew at that age. There’s the smallest kid in school, the stuck-up overachiever with family connections, the smart, the talented, the weird, the moronic, the appealing, the gross, not to mention the teachers who run the gamut from lazy to self-serving and pompous to casual. It all seems just about right.

This is a film of spirited performances (his parents, Steve Zahn and Rachael Harris, are especially enjoyable, as is Chloe Moretz as a too-cool-for-school seventh-grader) and lots of energy. It’s fast, light, and an enjoyably sweet delight, even though it does have two or three too many gross-out gags. Director Thor Freudenthal (Hotel for Dogs) does an admirable job keeping the movie from dragging too much and has a deft way of making the children’s performances pop just as much as the adults'. This is a consistent movie; it all feels of one piece. It’s not a movie of high highs or low lows, but it’s pitched at a level of even-keeled enjoyment that accumulates into something special.