REVIEW COLLECTION: The Full-Length Films of Aardman, Part I
PART I: DREAMWORKS
Chicken Run (2000)
The UK-based studio Aardman had certainly come a long way over the course of two initial decades with their unique brand and style of stop-motion animation, from their popular "Morph" T.V. series to the iconic "Sledgehammer" music video for Peter Gabriel, and to the shorts Creature Comforts (an Oscar-winning mockumentary about zoo animals), A Grand Day Out (the debut of cheese-loving inventor Wallace and his faithful dog Gromit), and The Wrong Trousers (arguably the best of the duo's adventures by then). One of their fans was studio executive Jeffrey Katzenberg. A story goes that, when Katzenberg was working at Disney in the late-80s/early-90s, he met with Aardman founders Peter Lord and David Sproxton (and animator/director Nick Park) about collaborating on a feature film one day. Fast forward to early-1996, when A Close Shave won the Oscar for best animated short (and introduced the world to Shaun the Sheep, in the process), and the Aardman team make a deal with the newly-formed DreamWorks for their first feature-length Hollywood production, while also maintaining their creative independence. And they did so with what initially sounded like one of the most absurd ideas for an animated feature.
The plot of Chicken Run follows a group of farm chickens who try to escape captivity from their cruel owners—and certain death—by teaming up with a cocky, runaway circus rooster, who may or may not teach them how to fly. It’s a rather silly premise. (Very tongue-in-cheek, might I add, as is Aardman’s trademark.) But what directors Lord and Park, along with their creative team and voice actors, do with that set-up turns out to be nothing short of wonderful and charming.
Because Chicken Run is in stop-motion and on a grander scale than their previous work up to that point, the film contains large amounts of effects that are hard to do in this medium (rain, mud, flying, dancing, and lighting). The same goes for the company’s trademark character designs and closeups of their expressions (toothy grins, marble eyes). This is real artistry, creativity, and fun. Not to mention great entertainment for children and adults. The animation, brilliant writing, and distinct British humor can’t help but put a smile on your face. The hand-craftiness of this movie (and its medium) is inspiring. It remains the highest-grossing stop-motion film in the U.S. to date (unadjusted for inflation), which DreamWorks’ distribution arguably had a significant role in. It's several steps up from the unforgettable Rankin-Bass Christmas specials of the 1960s and 70s. But it’s the subtleties, small details, and heart that really sell the film.
With that in mind, and more importantly/surprisingly, Chicken Run has real substance, with an engaging story about characters—some wrestling with conformity (“The fences aren’t just around the farm, they’re up here in your heads”)—who long for freedom and fight for it against insurmountable odds. It interestingly has a few things in common with The Prince of Egypt, in terms of some Biblical parallels and even some general revelation. The plucky Ginger’s relentless and desperate attempts to get herself and others out, especially in a race against the clock—and one subversive last-ditch effort where they literally give everything they’ve got—create a profound sense of community and teamwork. Themes of caring for oneself versus caring for others are also key here. The same goes for not admitting mistakes versus owning up to them, and the harsh and disappointing consequences of the former.
At the same time, the film isn’t afraid to get menacing or emotional, with strong themes of life and death, including at least one character that doesn’t make it. The imagery of an ax recalls E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web, while the sinister Tweedy’s feel like they came straight out of a Roald Dahl story. The militaristic Fowler even represents prejudices between the U.K. and the U.S. during the post-war years. Even so, only Aardman could’ve pulled off such a creative and subversive concept. And with so much effort, care, and sincerity. That’s soaring.
After three wonderful short films (from 1989-1995), the ever-popular cheese-loving inventor and his canine companion finally made their feature-length debut in 2005. The Curse of the Were-Rabbit is adventurous, action-packed, witty, and downright funny. Furthermore, this visually inventive, and thoroughly witty and delightful, gem was described by co-director Nick Park as “the world’s first vegetarian horror film.”
Wallace and Gromit run a local pest control business, thanks to a rabbit infestation growing in London, what with the town’s “Giant Vegetable Competition” only a few days away. The former’s latest contraption—a “brain-altering” device first used to reverse his cheese addiction, then to help rid the furry critters of their produce-eating habits—soon backfires (during a full moon, of all times) and creates a massive furry bunny that devours just about all of the local (and idolized) vegetables in town.
Throughout this very tongue-in-cheek three-act structure, Peter Sallis, once again, voices the endearing and lovable Wallace, while Helena Bonham Carter (as a wealthy socialite/love-interest) and Ralph Fiennes (as a gun-toting suitor, intent on marrying the former for her status and wealth) brilliantly lend their vocal talents as well. But it’s Gromit who steals the show, with his trademark deadpan body language, loyalty, and determination. There's even a wonderful moment where Gromit chooses to sacrifice something special to him in favor of helping a dear friend. With that in mind, Were-Rabbit also highlights (at least from a spiritual standpoint) the consequences of "tampering with nature" as well as idolatry, specifically people’s obsessions with prizes and other “treasures on earth.” That goes just as well for the various contraptions, gadgets, and security systems that Wallace creates, no matter how skilled and creative they are.
The film contains clever references and homages to other monster/horror movies, including Universal's original Wolf Man from 1941 (a "24 carrot" bullet, anyone?), John Landis' famous transformation sequence from his 1981 genre flick An American Werewolf in London, and Warner Bros' granddaddy of giant gorillas, King Kong. There's even a nod to 1950's Harvey (in which Jimmy Stewart is best friends with a six-foot-tall invisible rabbit). The human-sized Hunch (also voiced by Sallis), in a way, could fill in for that latter example, sharing Wallace's cheese obsession and middle-aged personality. (“I do like a bit of Gorgonzola.”)
Parents of young children should be aware of a few spiritual/religious elements and some suggestive gags (including a stuffed female rabbit decoy, representing "the greatest trap of all") that will fly over the heads of their small tykes. Ditto the aforementioned references to classic monster movies--including who the Were-Rabbit really turns out to be--and P.O.V. shots that carry a spooky vibe, but all in good and exciting fun. (Julian Nott provides the film's entertaining score.) Still, it may be a little too intense and broad for younger viewers. Those elements notwithstanding, this Oscar-winning flick is another wonderful and worthwhile piece of stop-motion animation and entertainment for young and old. Although, adults may appreciate its animation process and distinctly British sense of humor much more.
Flushed Away (2006)
The stop-motion studio’s first fully-CGI feature film also marked their final collaboration with DreamWorks—with the latter’s distribution handled by Paramount Pictures. And while Flushed Away still retains the toothy character designs, rhythm, rate, and British sensibilities of their previous plasticine adventures, the movie feels like a mixture of styles from both studios. The result (courtesy directors David Bowers and Sam Fell) is arguably the most fast-paced and Americanized of Aardman’s projects to date.
Set in the Kensington district of England, house rat Roddy (voiced by Hugh Jackman) is comfortable with his pampered, privileged, and lonely lifestyle. One day, an obnoxious sewer rat named Sid unknowingly blasts through the pipes of the kitchen sink, takes over Roddy’s place, and flushes him down the toilet and into a colorful and lively underground city. But the film’s plot has more going on than just Roddy trying to get home, with help from a sassy female rat (voiced by Kate Winslet). In fact, several subplots (including a villainous scheme to flood the sewers, coinciding with the World Cup) and sight gags (i.e., groin hits and other comic pratfalls) give Flushed Away little time to breathe, resulting in a rather average and forgettable cartoon.
On the plus side, the voice cast is fun to hear. Aside from Winslet, other standouts include Ian McKellan as an antagonistic, Shakespearean toad; Jean Reno as his charismatic frog cousin; and Bill Nighy as an albino henchman rat. (Jackman had a busy year in 2006, headlining a third X-Men movie, and working with directors like Woody Allen, Christopher Nolan, and George Miller.) There are even “cameos” from Wolverine’s costume, as well as an Alex the Lion doll from Madagascar.
The soundtrack is filled with contemporary pop tunes, including Billy Idol, Jet, and Fatboy Slim. Plus, several scene-stealing slugs sing everything from Bobby McFerran to Tina Turner. And speaking of music, Jackman puts his musical talents to good use at times. (Roddy, after all, is mistaken for singer Tom Jones, despite dressing like James Bond.)
To be fair, the film does get better in its second half, with themes of living fake lives versus bring real. The same goes for putting so much energy, even years, into what turns out to be empty, what such conformity can do, and what matters more in life, such as family and friendships. Despite some fun, roller-coaster action sequences and impressive water effects, Flushed Away lacks the charm of Aardman’s previous work, showing that the look and feel of plasticine animation can’t quite be replicated in CGI.
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| (Courtesy YouTube) |
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