THE opening 45 minutes or so of the new Pixar film, WALL-E, provide what must surely be some of most daring mainstream animation ever made, largely because the traditional methods used to hook audiences of late (particularly young audiences) appear t
o have been jettisoned. Instead of bright, shiny creatures, colourful landscapes and a jaunty score to keep the mood light, WALL-E, which was directed by Finding Nemo's Andrew Stanton and written by Stanton and John Reardon, offers a sophisticated visual palate, some truly astonishing cinematography and a somewhat bleak portrait of the fate of the planet that is more in keeping with the dystopian worlds of live-action epics such as Blade Runner and last year's I Am Legend.
There is no celebrity-voiced banter either, unless you the count the emotive digital blips that R2-D2 sound designer Ben Burtt has provided for the film's titular hero. In fact, for much of this first act, most of the words we hear come from a recording of an old Michael Crawford song from the much-derided 1968 musical Hello Dolly – and even this lends proceedings a tragic, melancholic air thanks to the way the optimism of the song is juxtaposed with Thomas Newman's haunting score to intensify WALL-E's feelings of loneliness as the only sentient life form – mechanical or otherwise – on a toxic planet that has been abandoned for centuries.
It really is an astonishing and audacious way to begin, sort of the kid-flick equivalent of Kubrick's jaw-dropping Dawn of Man-opening in 2001: A Space Odyssey. In many ways, it signals just how ambitious this studio has become: continually pushing the boundaries not only of what is doable in a technical sense but also in narrative terms. What's great about this, though, is that Stanton has managed to pull this off in a way that remains instantly accessible to audiences of all ages. All the cinematic wizardry would count for naught if WALL-E didn't swell the heart as much as it dazzled the eyes, so while it may be incredibly sophisticated, it is also admirably pure in terms of the basic story it is telling.
That story revolves around WALL-E's quest for love and connection. He's a trash-compacting robot who has been toiling around Earth's surface for 700 years. His name is an acronym for Waste Allocated Load Lifter – Earth class, and even though he has outlived his original purpose, he continues to go about his duties. Each morning he charges himself up via a rickety solar panel and proceeds to scour an unnamed city collecting garbage and compressing it into chunks, stacking them into vast skyscrapers of trash that stand with a kind of tragic grace next to the decrepit buildings long since abandoned by humans. The occasional newspaper swirling through the deserted streets together with old video screens playing dated advertisements for a huge conglomerate called Buy N Large clue us into the global catastrophe that has allowed things to reach this state.
But the way WALL-E has amassed a treasure trove of trinkets from the mountains of mulch indicate the extent to which he has developed a soul that has made him inquisitive about the world he came from. He seems to have intuited that there is something more to existence than pure functionality, which may be why his most prized possession is an worn-out videotape of Hello Dolly! Through repeated viewing he has tried to unlock the secrets of human connection. In the best way possible, this is reminiscent of ET. The character design may owe a substantial debt to Short Circuit – however much Pixar denies it – but WALL-E, with his sad-yet-hopeful binocular eyes and stumpy physique is almost as emotive and disarming as Spielberg's finest creation.
It seems a shame, then, that the film doesn't remain entirely on Earth with WALL-E. His solitude comes to an end with the arrival of another robot, EVE, a probe droid searching for evidence of life. Here the film briefly becomes even more majestic, playing out like a great romantic comedy might have done in the silent era. WALL-E is instantly smitten with EVE – and no wonder: sleek, white, hi-tech design makes her look as desirable as anything you'd find on the shelves of the Apple Store.
When he inadvertently presents her with a plant as a gift, it propels them on an adventure that takes in space travel, physically devolved humans and a malevolent Hal 9000-style robot who seems determined to prevent the re-colonisation of Earth. The film then becomes much busier and more frantic as Stanton sketches out a more satirical, garish world full of baby-like adults addicted to leisure and convenience.
The change of pace is, admittedly, jarring at first – and some will doubtless view it as an unwelcome, spell-breaking concession to younger audience members. But having seen it twice now, it does actually deepen and enrich what comes before and after by offering up a good-humoured Brave New World-esque critique of our compulsive, albeit understandable, desire to escape our problems with pleasurable distractions instead of confronting them head on.
Of course there's an irony in espousing such a message – however subtly – in a blockbuster film designed to entertain as large an audience as possible. The heartening thing about WALL-E is that it still has faith in that audience's ability and desire to step outside its comfort zone.The best thing, though, is that it rewards us handsomely for doing so.
The full article contains 953 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
