The Jungle Book

The Jungle Book, 2016

Directed by Jon Favreau, 105 minutes

Neel Sethi, Bill Murray, Ben Kingsley, Idris Elba, Lupita Nyong’o, Christopher Walken, Giancarlo Esposito, Scarlett Johansson

Review by Katherine Scheetz

Director Jon Favreau takes us into the Seoni jungle of central India, with music and camera movements evocative of the classic 1967 animation. Favreau enchants us with the verdant visuals of “man-cub” Mowgli among the vines and moss, raised to be part of the wolf pack by alpha Akela (Esposito), mother Raksha (Nyong’o) and the tough-loving black panther Bagheera (Kingsley).

With smartly integrated monsoon season weather patterns, we observe how drought affects The Law of the Jungle and that when Peace Rock emerges from beneath the river, a truce between the jungle inhabitants must be obeyed. Elba makes his terrifying debut as the Bengal tiger Shere Khan here at Peace Rock, face scarred from man’s “red flower” and thirsting for revenge. With the return of the tiger and the monsoon (thus Peace Rock disappearing) Mowgli’s life becomes forfeit, forcing him and Bagheera to leave for the man-village in search of protection.

Along the way Mowgli learns his backstory from hypnotic rock python Kaa (Johansson), Bagheera teaches him about the reverence of the elephants and a tweaked King Louie (Walken) – with an accent from Queens, NY – brings about an Indiana-Jones-worthy temple chase scene filled with thick, filtered lighting. Sloth bear Baloo, voiced by the lazily charming Murray, embraces Mowgli’s inherent talent for invention or “tricks,” using them to his own ends ie: harvesting honey and singing “about the good life” alongside a goofy cast of supporting animals.

Composed by John Debney (who has a list of credits as long as my leg packed with rom-coms and Disney channel), the score intertwines the deep, time-honored melodies with the lift a modern audience needs. “The Bare Necessities,” “I Wanna Be Like You” and “Trust In Me” get a jazzy, New Orleans revamp, that call for bowling hats, smoky dance clubs and vintage microphones.

Mowgli’s coming of age story takes a different shape in all this – it’s about embracing yourself and your own “tricks.” Newcomer Neel Sethi’s compassionate performance evolves the character of Mowgli, and when you realize the kid did all of that acting with a green screen and his imagination – well, my hat is off.

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Zootopia

Zootopia, 2016

Directed by Byron Howard, Rich Moore, Jared Bush, 108 minutes

Ginnifer Goodwin, Jason Bateman, Idris Elba, J.K. Simmons, Jenny Slate, Shakira

Review by Katherine Scheetz

              Judy Hopps (Goodwin) is the purple-eyed daughter of two carrot farmers in Bunnyburrow, where animals still speak in tongues and your prey/predator status defines your role in life. After graduating from the police academy as the only bunny officer under Mayor Lionheart's (Simmons) Mammal Inclusion Act, her parting gift from her parents (and her 275 brothers and sisters) is “Fox-Away” pepper spray.

Judy heads to assignment in Zootopia City Center, pink iPaw blasting the latest toe-tapping hit from pop-star Gazelle (Shakira), where she is the only prey animal in a precinct of predators under Cape buffalo Chief Bogo (Elba).  

              So begins the parade of characters who reveal the harsh realities of animal relations in Judy’s Mecca, from elephant-only ice cream shops to Mafia shrews. Key among them is Nick Wilde (Bateman), a hustling fox with sleepy eyelids and hands perpetually in his pockets; nuances taken straight from Bateman’s own body language in the recording studio.

              Flawless animation accompanies the captured characteristics, down to the edging of fur on Judy’s expressive ears. But it’s everyday life details, like the texting hamster who gets squashed exiting the “tube” and the DMV run by sloths, that ground Disney’s world-building.

Writers Jared Bush and Phil Johnston deliver a tight script (if carrot-heavy) with no lag in clever lines or honest moments of friendship meant for both children and adults alike.

In Zootopia, there are doors sized for all creatures; public transportation accommodates swimmers, fliers, and tunnelers; homes exist for Tundra-dwellers, rainforest-livers, and Sahara-sunbathers. Think New York City, but built so that autism, cerebral palsy, down syndrome, ADHD, dyslexia and the like could never be thought of as disabilities, but rather part of what makes you unique. Novel.  

Disney doles out a timely message of tolerance when we need it most. Let no sheep cooking nighthowler in his meth-resembling-lab stop you from absorbing Zootopia.             

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The Good Dinosaur

The Good Dinosaur, 2015

Directed by Peter Sohn, 93 minutes

Jeffrey Wright, Frances McDormand, Raymond Ochoa, Jack Bright

Review by Katherine Scheetz

              With phenomenon Inside Out (2015) grossing $90 million in her opening weekend, The Good Dinosaur (2015), at a mere $39 million on its Thanksgiving day release, is the starving artist, still-discovering-myself sibling at the holiday table in a family of engineers. Which is a shame, really, because there are elements of The Good Dinosaur that are genuinely a pleasure.

              Visually, it meets all the standards of an enigmatic Pixar piece: from pudding-like mud upon the silo and wind-swept fields freckled with longhorns, to the effervescent moment of fireflies bubbling up around Arlo (Raymond Ochoa) and Spot (Jack Bright, ). It is saturated with doe-eyed, pre-historic creatures and all their caricatured oddities. But it doesn’t exceed expectations, a grave that Disney-Pixar dug themselves into.

              In terms of atmosphere, composing brothers Mychael and Jeff Danna deliver a deliciously wholesome score, full prairie fiddles, piping Mexican standoff hums and deep horns evocative of rolling Midwest hills. Danna and Danna are, as usual, not afraid of taking non-traditional instruments and non-traditional sounds whether that be steel drums, Gregorian chants or Middle Eastern mandolin, in order to create the desired effect. If nothing else, this film is a lesson in how music informs the entire mood of a film. What makes the story relatable is the good-ole-American Manifest Destiny feel of the score. Without that, this is just an updated Land Before Time (1988).

             

The storytelling is cliché, to the point where we can’t stop ourselves from sighing when Dino-dad is washed away in the most Mufasa-like imitation that Disney should be suing itself. While the cast has done well with their voices, embodying each prairie-home-companion dinosaur personalities, the characters are simplistic, merely a representation of an archetype within the narrative.

              All these can be forgiven, as archetypes, caricatures and straightforward storytelling can be instructive and self-reflective. But the overabundance of morals leaves us bogged down with confusion. In between the mixed signals of advice from Poppa (Jeffrey Wright), lessons learned on the road and dream-induced flashbacks, the meanings of most of these messages gets lost. That being said, at the end of the film, one lesson does make it through the fog: when you are able to let go of judgment beautiful things can happen.

And I will say this: The longhorn droving T-Rex family nails it. Two words: bug harmonica.

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