REVIEW COLLECTION: DreamWorks Animation, Part 1a

Antz (1998) 

For their first computer animated feature film, DreamWorks began a partnership with visual effects company Pacific Data Images (or, PDI) to create a comedy about community and independence, told from the perspective of tiny insects. Antz centers on a neurotic worker ant named Z (voiced by Woody Allen), who lives in a monotonous colony where everyone is either a dirt-digger, a soldier, or a royal palace member. Tired of his assigned routine, Z has an existential crisis and wants to find a better world than the one he’s living in. Meanwhile, the sassy Princess Bala (voiced by Sharon Stone) tires of her royal status, while the ant army General Mandible (voiced by Gene Hackman), whom she’s engaged to, has secret plans of his own—to start a new society by wiping out the current one. 

The action gets rolling after Z and Bala meet at a bar and he is so smitten with her, thinking he’s found a better reason to live, that he switches places with his soldier friend Weaver (voiced by Sylvester Stallone) just to see her again. This mix-up soon lands both him and the princess in the surface world (brighter and more translucent than their own underground and saturated community) and on a quest to find a supposedly utopian insect city. The animation and world building in Antz is undoubtedly state-of-the-art, with many clever set pieces involving group-forming cranes and ladders, as well as water domes, massive crowd shots of ant soldiers, and a pair of human shoes that give our main characters a slow-motion roller-coaster ride they won’t forget. 

The thing that sets this film apart from its predecessors (it was technically the third CGI feature film, after Pixar’s Toy Story and the little-known Brazilian flick Cassiopeia) is its edgy humor, which is more for adults than for kids. Part of that is thanks to an A-list voice cast that includes Christopher Walken, Jennifer Lopez, John Mohaney, Anne Bancroft, Dan Aykroyd and Jane Curtain. To be fair, the medium here could be seen as a metaphor or parable for the aforementioned themes of society, submission versus choice, breaking free, and overthrowing totalitarian rule. (Examples of other movies include Watership Down, or anything by Ralph Bakshi.) The dichotomy of these characters is intriguing and ironic, highlighting the consequences of selfish choices, as well as mixed messages about independence and avoiding submission. (“Don’t follow orders your whole life,” one character tells Z.) 

Keep in mind, the culture of DreamWorks’ animation department was a lot different back then. When they started out, they made two types of films (three if you count their collaborations with Aardman): adult-oriented CGI comedies, and hand-drawn historical epics. To be fair, the early Looney Tunes and Tex Avery shorts from the 1940s had edge, but Antz combines some of that with humor and sensibilities straight out of a Woody Allen movie set in New York City. (Imagine a shrunken-down version of Annie Hall.) Then there’s the film’s surprising amount of language (something one of my classmates at the time warned me about), scenes of violence and deaths (including a termite battle that resembles Starship Troopers, and a character that gets vaporized by a magnifying glass). 

Antz was a staple of controversy during its initial theatrical release, having come out less than two months before Pixar’s own insect comedy, a bug’s life. John Lasseter of Pixar (and co-director of bug’s) was reportedly furious (as chronicled in Walter Isaacson’s thorough 2011 biography on Steve Jobs), claiming that Jeffrey Katzenberg (who was the chairman of Disney until 1994, and had known Lasseter then) stole his idea. On the flip side, at least according to the DVD “Production Notes,” the idea for Antz first stemmed around 1991, when PDI was developing ideas for the movie. It’s anyone’s guess which of these facts are true or exaggerated. But one thing is certain: this joint release began a brief rivalry between two computer animation studios (similar to Don Bluth going up against Disney in the 1980s). Antz now exists as a much-forgotten animated feature, only remembered by those who grew up in that era. Sure, the writing, the visuals, and the characters are smart and clever. But, like Who Framed Roger Rabbit, the film’s sensibilities will appeal more to adults than children. And that’s a significant fact. 

The Prince of Egypt (1998) 

Employing the same animators and artists from Steven Spielberg’s short-lived Amblimation studio, the newly formed animation division at DreamWorks decided to go big and innovative with their first hand-drawn feature film. Competition with Disney, yes. On the other hand, they adapted a story that was not only universally known, but also helped distinguish the studio from its peers. The idea for The Prince of Egypt goes back to 1994, before Spielberg, Jeffrey Katzenberg, and David Geffen, officially founded DreamWorks. According to the “Production Notes” on the film’s initial DVD release, Katzenberg described the following “criteria” to making a great animated film: “a powerful allegory that we can relate to in our time; extraordinary situations to motivate strong emotional journeys; something wonderful about the human spirit; good triumphing over evil; music as a compelling storytelling element; and so on . . .” Hence, an animated retelling of Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments, told with the grand scale of a David Lean picture, and helmed by three directors (Disney story artist Brenda Chapman and Amblimation veterans Steve Hickner & Simon Wells).  

Adapted from the Biblical story of Moses from the Book of Exodus, The Prince of Egypt was and remains a towering achievement in the medium, not to mention epic and powerful storytelling. The following statement opens the film: “While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe that this film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide.” To their credit, the filmmakers consulted with numerous religious and Christian leaders, scholars, historians, archeologists, theologians, and Egyptologists, for authenticity and respectability. And it shows in the finished product. 

Part of what helps make this story personal and relatable is the commitment of the film’s voice cast. Led by Ralph Fiennes (as Rameses) and Val Kilmer (as Moses), this story emphasizes the relationship and dichotomy between two brothers—one, born to rule a nation; the other, called to free it. While the former is focused on maintaining tradition, the other is on a journey bigger than himself. Not only is this a conflict between two people, but also a conflict within themselves, respectively. A great example for Moses is the number, “All I Ever Wanted,” when the young man begins to discover his true heritage, questioning and doubting everything he’s ever known. Both actors give layers of depth and complexity to their respective roles. 

The music by Hans Zimmer is powerful, ethereal, and emotional. Lyricist Stephen Schwartz (who collaborated with composer Alan Menken on the Disney features Pocahontas and The Hunchback of Notre Dame) provided what may arguably be his greatest contribution to animation, certainly in that decade. The songs are so astounding that they (and the film itself) transcend that musical aspect. This includes the inspiring and evocative ballad, “When You Believe” (a pop version on the film’s soundtrack was sung by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey). The film also features a combination of seamless animation techniques that were state-of-the-art and groundbreaking, including an exhilarating chariot race between Moses and Rameses (recalling Ben-Hur), a haunting hieroglyphics sequence (Patrick Stewart’s Pharaoh exchange is chilling), the presence of God through the Burning Bush, the numerous plagues that occur before the Exodus of the Hebrews, the brief appearance of the stone tablets carrying the Ten Commandments, and, most importantly, the jaw-dropping parting of the Red Sea. 

These combined contributions create a poetic and astounding work. (Granted, this should be viewed as supplemental material, and not as a substitute or replacement for the actual Scriptures.) As the Disney company did months later with the release of their long-awaited continuation of Fantasia, The Prince of Egypt was and is a rare case where an animated feature was more about the artistry, filmmaking, and story, and not really about commerce. That’s something to be praised. 

The Road to El Dorado (2000) 

At the turn of the century, DreamWorks released an original buddy comedy-adventure in the spirit of the Road To pictures of the 1940s, which starred singer Bing Crosby and comedian Bob Hope. The Road to El Dorado centers on two con men who, after escaping captivity on a Spanish ship headed by Cortez, charted for the New World in the early-1500s, set off to find the fabled city of gold, El Dorado. It’s no surprise that they do find the city, until they are mistaken for gods and secretly plan to make off with the loot in a story of greed and idolatry, colorfully and musically presented. 

With a screenplay co-written by Aladdin scribes Ted Elliot & Terry Rossio, not to mention dazzling animation and art direction that’s incredible to look at (including an exciting ball game sequence featuring an armadillo), perhaps El Dorado’s biggest marketing push was the reunion between pop artist Elton John, lyricist Tim Rice, and co-composer Hans Zimmer, working together for the first time since The Lion King. I can only imagine how exciting that must have been. Some of the songs are noteworthy (“The Trail We Blaze,” “The More I Learn,” and “Someday Out of the Blue”), while the score was co-written by John Powell. First-time directors Eric “Bibo” Bergeron & Don Paul certainly created some great shots and energy in the movie. The main duo is almost upstaged by the scene-stealing war horse, Altivo, as well as the clever local named Chel, who wants to get out and see the world. 

But what really makes the whole thing work is the perfect casting of Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Kline as leading schemers, Miguel and Tulio, respectively. (It’s certainly a better pairing than their previous collaboration, the critically and commercially disappointing Wild Wild West.) They’re terrific together, even though their quest is morally and ethically misguided. Not to mention the fact that they’re very self-centered and deceptive characters, despite their genuine friendship, their objections to death and all things related, and Miguel’s heart in the right place for this new community. Still, they never receive their comeuppances, though they come close. 

The film ended up performing below expectations, likely due to a rushed production and an equally rushed final act. Not to mention a lukewarm story. (El Dorado was released several months ahead of Disney’s own Incan comedy, The Emperor’s New Groove.) And it shows. The underwritten subplot involving Cortez and his crew, for one thing, is mostly there as a side of conflict and pursuit. 

It may be a little hard to believe, but this film (which has developed a following over the years since its release) was originally conceived as a PG-13-rated comedy for an older demographic. Even with a PG-rating in the final product, El Dorado (like Antz) is not really for children. 

Its content is edgy and dark, including occult-like imagery (one intense sequence involves a massive, stone jaguar) and references to human sacrifices (particularly from a sadistic voodoo priest, voiced by Armand Asante). Plus, the number, "It's Tough To Be a God" (the only full track sung by Branagh and Kline) is both bombastic and problematic. Then there are the subtle and not-so-subtle sexual references, including brief nudity, some implied trysts, and the cleavage-bearing Chel (voiced by Rosie Perez), who may be the most objectified female character in an animated movie since Jessica Rabbit. Despite some exciting elements (including a roller-coaster climax) and some worthy sacrificial choices on our characters’ parts, as well as a broken and reconciled friendship, this is a road most viewers (especially children and families) would do best to avoid. 

Shrek (2001) 

Around the same time that the idea for Antz was developed, so too in the early-1990s was the idea of adapting William Steig’s children’s book, Shrek, into a feature film. IMDb states that Steven Spielberg tried to make it into a hand-drawn comedy through his Amblimation company, with Bill Murray and Steve Martin as some of the main voices.  PDI/DreamWorks started taking a crack at it by the middle of the decade, when SNL veteran (and 90s favorite comic actor) Chris Farley was originally cast as the voice of the titular ogre. Farley had even recorded most of the dialogue, while Eddie Murphy (another SNL alum) recorded lines as the wise-cracking Donkey. After Farley’s tragic passing from a drug overdose in 1997, friend and fellow SNL castmate Mike Myers stepped in and put his own spin on the character. Although Murphy may have given the most fitting vocal work for an animated character since Robin Williams in Aladdin. In fact, the main cast for the final 2001 release (including Myers, then-up-and-coming actress Cameron Diaz, and veteran character actor John Lithgow) give some of the best work of their careers, if not the best. 

Arguably the first movie of its kind since 1987’s The Princess Bride, directors Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson turned genre conventions (and Disney) on their heads, with an odd, unlikely cast of characters in what was both an irreverent sendup and a sincere story, advertised as “the greatest fairy tale never told.” Co-producer Jeffrey Katzenberg was believed to have skewered his former employer with this movie, particularly in the character of Lord Farquaad (said to be a takedown of then-Disney CEO Michael Eisner). Even its storybook opening is quickly lampooned, the first in a display of postmodern cynicism. A later example is when a Snow White-esque duet between the princess and a songbird ends with a high note that makes the feathered creature literally explode—and her nest of eggs cooked for breakfast. Several fairy tale characters make cameo appearances, more resembling storybook illustrations than their respective Disney versions, with the most famous being the Gingerbread Man (“Not my gumdrop buttons”). The amazing thing is that it all works. 

Shrek was the breakout film that established the culture and identity of DreamWorks moving forward. Almost immediately hailed as one of the defining movies of the decade, the film was also a technical milestone. The filmmakers and artists created 36 different locations throughout the story, shot as if from a live-action camera lens. There were also breakthroughs in convincing human animation (this was released the same year as Sony’s motion-capture sci-fi video game adaptation, Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within), facial expressions, and the simulation of mud, water, fire, and blades of grass. It strikes a balance between fantasy and reality, especially in a year when the former was making a big comeback at the movies. 

Like Antz, the edgy and outrageous comedy in Shrek is more for adults than for kids, with unapologetic toilet humor and pop culture references sprinkled throughout, and irreverent gags that will easily fly over children’s heads. Ironic, considering that several kids love this quotable movie, and the fact that it’s arguably more accessible than PDI’s aforementioned 1998 feature. On the other hand, some of the pop/rock tunes on the film’s soundtrack are a bit distracting, especially during the credits. (Such was the case with 90s and early-2000s tentpoles.) But there’s no denying that Smash Mouth’s cover of Neil Diamond’s “I’m a Believer” is an earworm (as is their popular song, “All Star”). Other notable tracks include John Cale’s moving piano cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” and the Eels’ “My Beloved Monster” (recalling Mark Knopfler’s “Storybook Love” from The Princess Bride). The fairy tale/storybook theme music by composers Harry Gregson-Williams and John Powell (who also collaborated on Antz and Chicken Run) subsequently became the theme music for DreamWorks Animation. 

The film became the second animated feature in history to be nominated for a Best Screenplay Academy Award (recognizing writers Ted Elliot, Terry Rossio, Joe Stillman, and Roger S.H. Schulman), as well as the inaugural winner of the Best Animated Feature category at the 2002 ceremony. Thematically, the metaphor of onions (with more layers than they appear to have) fits the story’s themes of not just inner beauty—not to mention a twist on Beauty and the Beast—and how misjudging others makes those people feel sad and lonely. More specifically, it’s a message of self-acceptance and the need for forgiveness and others, whether friends or “true love”. A third act twist that nobody saw coming actually turns out to be a life-affirming message, especially for viewers struggling with self-esteem and peer pressure. Hey, who said comedies couldn’t be meaningful?