REVIEW COLLECTION: DreamWorks Animation, Part I (Second Edition)

[The following was originally posted on May 1, 2025 and May 16, 2025. This is a collection of reviews looking back at the theatrical filmography of one of the most prolific animation studios in history.] 

(Source: YouTube) 

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 currently 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 a 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-length 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. 

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), and scenes of violence and death (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, 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 Moses' encounter with a 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 to it, 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 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 their best. 

Arguably the first movie of its kind since 1987’s The Princess Bride, directors Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson turned genre conventions 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 (i.e., Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings). 

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? 

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (2002) 

Having made two hand-drawn features and two CGI comedies by the turn of the century, the next animated project from DreamWorks was their most ambitious and experimental up to that point. Seamlessly combining traditional 2D and digital 3D effects (a marriage that co-producer Jeffrey Katzenberg called “tra-digital”), the most remarkable and radical thing about Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (the story of a wild mustang on a harrowing journey across the Old West in the 1800s) is that its animal characters don’t even speak. 

Guided by Matt Damon’s narration, a profound and emotional score by Hans Zimmer, and tear-jerking songs by singer Bryan Adams (the tracks “Here I Am” and “I Will Always Return” make me a blubbering mess every time I hear them), the detailed animation, body language, and facial expressions of the horses in this film are thoroughly impressive. (Audio of real horses were used instead of voice actors.) The opening, three-minute “Homeland Pan” sequence/shot (which was used in the early marketing) reportedly took nine months to complete. 

The story follows Spirit as he grows from a baby colt to an adult stallion, takes on leadership and responsibility, is captured and sent to a Cavalry outpost where he matches wits with a demanding colonel (voiced by James Cromwell) and befriends and helps free a Lakota native named Little Creek (voiced by Daniel Studi) and his mare companion Rain, and eventually feels torn between two places. Running at 82 minutes and presented in a 2.35:1 widescreen ratio (with colorful and vast landscapes), the final product leads to some genuinely humorous but grounded bits, not to mention some exciting and awe-inspiring moments involving herd stampedes, a river rescue, and a canyon jump. 

That being said, the film’s biggest disadvantage is that its human characters, particularly white soldiers, are portrayed as antagonistic, untrustworthy, and arrogant. (Some of the background characters—CGI composites—appear lifeless.) On the other hand, the story respects its Native characters. Add to that elements of animal cruelty, racism, colonization and land development, brief smoking, and other intense moments that are a bit too much for a G-rating. 

Despite those elements, this was a very personal project for Katzenberg, who originally conceived of the idea and considered it a return to traditional animation. And a cutting-edge one at that. Even though the film performed below expectations at the box-office, the wild mustang’s perseverance and determination cannot be denied. The film was nominated as one of the five best animated features at the 2003 Oscars ceremony, and is considered one of the studio’s best, as it should be. Spirit is a profound and emotional story about a horse who refuses to back down or be held down, who fights for freedom for himself and others, and never forgets where he belongs. It’s worth another look. 

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003) 

When the animators and filmmakers at DreamWorks were making The Road to El Dorado, the powers that be had hoped to make a franchise out of it. But after it underperformed at the box-office, those plans fell by the wayside. The studio had originally planned to do the same thing with an animated take on the Arabian tales (and “Seven Voyages”) of the rogue sea explorer Sinbad, made famous in cinema thanks to the legendary Ray Harryhausen. That is, until they decided to focus on just one movie—with several voyages packed in. 

The studio seemed to have been following a specific pattern with their historically-based hand-drawn features, alternating between more serious stories (like The Prince of Egypt and Spirit) to light-hearted ones (El Dorado). With the 2003 release of Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, directors Tim Johnson & Patrick Gilmore and writer John Logan created a fun, rollicking, and colorful ride that combined 2D characters and 3D backdrops (same as Fox’s Titan A.E. and Disney’s Treasure Planet, all dated by today’s standards). Plus, Disney's live-action Pirates of the Caribbean wasn’t the only high seas adventure released that year. 

The story follows the charismatic and thieving Sinbad, as he’s framed by the Goddess of Chaos, Eris, for stealing the legendary Book of Peace, and goes on a quest to retrieve it and save his estranged childhood friend, Prodeus the Prince of Syracuse, who takes his place and is the only one who trusts him, despite Sinbad’s flaws. Along the way, they receive help from a stowaway, who is more than she seems. Cue themes of believing that people are more than they think they are, as well as responsibility or the lack of it. 

While this movie can be fun to watch, with distinct set pieces, action sequences, and imaginative monsters, it also features Polytheistic worldviews and suggestive content. Not to mention lukewarm writing and characterizations, other convoluted elements, and scenes that feel a little rushed and stitched-together. Even the vocal talents of stars Brad Pitt (as Sinbad), Catherine Zeta-Jones (as the strong-willed Marina), and Michelle Pfeiffer (as the sensuous Eris) couldn’t elevate the story above an average narrative. It is terrific hearing Dennis Haysbert and Joseph Fiennes’s voices (as first mate Kale, and Proteus, respectively). In short, the story isn’t as strong as it could’ve been. 

Sort of recalling the brief filmographies of Amblimation and Fox Animation Studios, it was this film that signaled the end of DreamWorks’ hand-drawn animation division—and what partly led to the brief extinction of the art form in the early-2000s.  Following its poor box-office release, DreamWorks publicly stated that their subsequent projects would all be CGI features. And while Sinbad didn’t/doesn't exactly leave a lasting impression, it nevertheless represents a distinct part of an adventurous legacy that elevated the medium above just conventional children’s entertainment, for better or worse. 

Shrek 2 (2004) 

At the start of 2004, early reviewers predicted DreamWorks might have another disappointing flop on their hands with the studio’s follow-up to their fairy tale satire Shrek, especially after the less-than-stellar box-office results of Spirit and Sinbad. Marking the debut of the studio’s new animation logo, as well as their third collaboration with Pacific Data Images (with high-quality animation and effects), the effect that Shrek 2 had on audiences exceeded expectations, just like the newlywed couple at the center. Directed by Andrew Adamson (who co-directed the first film), Kelly Asbury (Spirit), and Conrad Vernon (storyboard artist and voice of the Gingerbread Man), the film picks up with the honeymoon of the titular ogre and Princess Fiona (now an ogre herself). The newly-married couple soon get a message from Fiona’s parents to meet her new beau—an awkward enough situation as it is—and to celebrate with a royal ball in the Kingdom of Far Far Away, much to the eventual chagrin of just about everyone there.  

Mike Myers (Shrek), Eddie Murphy (Donkey), and Cameron Diaz (Fiona) reprise their respective roles from the first movie, adding new layers and nuances to their characters. Shrek 2 also managed to be a much-needed boost for Myers’ and Murphy’s careers after some critical and commercial disappointments. (Anybody remember The Cat in the Hat or The Adventures of Pluto Nash?) Other new additions include Fiona’s parents, King Harold and Queen Lilian (voiced by screen veterans John Cleese and Julie Andrews, respectively). The real antagonists in this story, however, are the handsome-but-whiny Prince Charming (voiced by Rupert Everett) and the diva-ish Fairy Godmother (voiced by Jennifer Saunders), who believe Charming’s pre-arranged marriage—and the Godmother’s deal made with the king years prior—has been ruined, and do everything they can to break off Shrek and Fiona’s unconventional nuptials. Then there's the real breakout star in this piece: the dashing and diminutive feline Puss In Boots (voiced by Antonio Banderas, sending up his previous role as Zorro), who gives Donkey some comic-sidekick competition. Known in the original fairy tale as an ogre killer, that trademark is quickly subverted, making the character an instant audience favorite, especially the iconic image of his big, sad eyes. 

If the first movie had a life-affirming message about inner beauty and self-acceptance, this more “fish-out-of-water” blockbuster sequel was a harsh reminder that there are still very shallow and cynical people in the world, who don’t understand or refuse to look passed the surface. It not only illustrates that things don’t always go as planned or expected, but puts a contemporary and universal spin on marriage that the old storybooks didn’t emphasize, let alone embrace. Adamson spoke in an interview about the idea of what happens after marriage, “being that you don’t just marry your spouse, you marry their whole family.” One of the film’s other key subplots centers around a “Happily Ever After” potion, which feels a little contrary to the first movie’s themes. Even so, it illustrates a central question of, “Would it have been better if we never met or got together?” (The Counting Crows’ hit song, “Accidentally in Love,” and Pete Yorn's "Ever Fallen in Love," terrifically encapsulate this.) Either way, it shows that emotional and/or fleeting decisions aren’t enough. It takes work to really get to know somebody. With that in mind, things don’t end at “Happily Ever After” (something that the long-running Off-Broadway musical The Fantasticks also did so brilliantly). Ultimately and arguably, the film deals with the issue of what is “best” for others—for their sakes (“You can’t force someone to fall in love”), or for selfish, prideful, or misguided reasons. 

The other thing about Shrek 2, beside some new sendups of classic fairy tales (cue Disney musical parodies, and a hangout for villains from some of those stories), is that it’s a very pop culture-oriented installment, with numerous references and plays on famous brands. (My favorite: Friar’s Fat Boy, parodying the Big Boy fast food chain.) The kingdom of Far Far Away resembles Beverly Hills, with appearances by some famous faces (including a pixelated avatar of Joan Rivers). There are a few clever nods to other blockbuster movies like The Lord of the Rings and Spider-Man. And the soundtrack features covers or updates of David Bowie’s “Changes,” Bonnie Tyler’s “I Need a Hero,” and Lipps Inc.’s “Funkytown." The COPS parody, on the other hand, even though it was funny at the time, wouldn’t fly in today’s culture. It should be noted that 2004 was a year where DreamWorks Animation seemed to sell out—at least with this film’s release, and especially with their next feature, Shark Tale. 

At the time, Shrek 2 out-grossed Pixar’s Finding Nemo as the most financially-successful animated film in history. To be sure, it isn’t great. It has a few more problematic and risqué elements than its predecessor, thanks, in part, to the brief appearances of the “Ugly Stepsister” (who looks and sounds like a man in drag), an uncalled-for gag about Pinocchio hiding a cross-dressing secret, and a few other suggestive references that will fly over the heads of younger audiences. Ditto a cover of Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca” over the film’s soundtrack (a very questionable choice). But the movie is otherwise very funny, clever, and entertaining. 

Shark Tale (2004) 

For their first in-house computer-animated feature (sans involvement from Pacific Data Images), DreamWorks presented an underwater gangster comedy combining mafia sharks with hip-hop sea critters in an oceanic city a la New York. The story of Shark Tale involves a mob boss who tries to hand the family business down to his two sons, Frankie and Lenny, the latter of whom is secretly a vegetarian. This is intercut with the arc of a fast-talking fish named Oscar, way in over his head with numerous “get-rich-quick schemes” and wanting to matter for all the wrong reasons (a fairly unlikable example). When Frankie is hit and killed by a giant anchor, Oscar takes the blame and decides to profit off of it and live at the top. That is, until the sharks start coming after him, and he eventually realizes how empty the high-life actually is. 

The all-star voice cast includes Will Smith (as Oscar), Robert DeNiro (as mob boss Don Lino), Angelina Jolie (as femme fatale Lola, recalling Michelle Pfeiffer from Sinbad), and Jack Black (seemingly miscast as tender-hearted shark Lenny). Plus, NBC News anchor Katie Couric plays a fish version of herself (as “Katie Current”). Standouts include Renée Zellweger as love-interest angel fish Angie, and (arguably the most ideal casting choice) filmmaker Martin Scorsese as a puffer fish; scenes between him and longtime collaborator DeNiro are amusing. The animators even did a clever job incorporating personality traits and features in the cast’s respective roles (e.g., Smith’s mouth, Jolie’s lips, Scorsese’s eye brows). Like Shrek 2, this movie also plays on famous brands (“Coral-Cola,” anyone?), and even ends with freeze-frame credits for each of the principal voice actors. (Admittedly, the end credits were fun to watch on the big screen at the time.) 

The movie does have its moments, with clever parodies of Jaws (“It’s our theme song”), Titanic, and Seabiscuit (but with sea horses), an opening play on the DreamWorks logo with a worm on a hook, and a car wash for whales (“I got you, Headphone Guy!”). But the real centerpiece is a staged shark attack between Oscar and Lenny in the heart of the city. A couple of highlights on the soundtrack including an infectious and catchy cover of Rose Royce’s 1970s hit “Car Wash” (sung by Christina Aguilera & Missy Elliot, who, like Couric, cameo as fish versions of themselves), and a dope track by Justin Timberlake and Timbaland. There also seems to be a retrospective meta theme about “somebodies” and “nobodies,” particularly when Angie gets ultimately straight with Oscar after being fed up with his ego-driven facade (“To me, you were a somebody. Now you’re nothing but a fake, a sham, a con, a joke”). 

With that in mind, Shark Tale may be one of DreamWorks’ most outdated entries these days. Released almost two months before SpongeBob SquarePants made his feature-length debut, this box-office hit was not just another sign of the studio’s competition with Pixar (as Antz was with a bug’s life, so this movie was with Finding Nemo). It’s a forgettable feature that tries too hard, with over-the-top humor, lazy writing, a very superficial tone, and a potentially agenda-driven subplot. The movie also created controversy due to various stereotypical depictions (e.g., Italian-Americans, African-Americans, Rastafarian Jamaicans, and even closeted gay characters). 

Other than that, there’s nothing particularly revolutionary about this fish comedy. While visually inventive, the CGI quality is cut back from Shrek 2. You could say it spends more time in the shallow end of the sea. At least it’s more interesting than any of the Jaws sequels combined. Along with the short-lived TV series Father of the Pride, Shark Tale signaled the end of an era for DreamWorks (mostly), at least in terms of edgy CGI comedies with big name voices. The studio’s next feature went back above the surface, and (in something of a full-circle moment, tracing back to Antz) signaled a new and fresh start for general audiences, and not just adults. 

Madagascar (2005) 

To reiterate, while DreamWorks’ prior fish comedy marked a low point for the animation studio (at least viscerally), it was their next project that would help redefine the company’s identity from there on. In other words, what may have seemed like a less-risky move, compared with the more daring-if-questionable features they had made up to that point, now represents a more universal form of entertainment for children and adults collectively. 

Madagascar centers around a group of Central Park Zoo animals who, after escaping captivity, are sent to Africa, suddenly get shipwrecked, and land on the shores of the titular island. The colorful cast includes Alex the boastful lion (voiced by Ben Stiller), Marty the optimistic zebra (voiced by Chris Rock, who fittingly wonders if he’s black with white stripes or vice versa), Melman the hypochondriac giraffe (voiced by David Schwimmer), and Gloria the tough-as-nails hippo (voiced by Jada Pinkett-Smith). Then there’s the community of lemurs our zoo critters encounter on the island (with the voices of Sasha Baron Cohen, Cedric the Entertainer, and Andy Richter), and the scene-stealing quartet of militaristic penguins, providing the biggest laughs every time they’re on screen. (Leader Skipper is voiced by co-director Tom McGrath.) 

Recalling the hijinks of classic Looney Tunes cartoons, this fan favorite adventure includes live-action-style camerawork, impressive water and fire effects, and crowd shots of furry creatures. Sure, the animation (courtesy PDI/DreamWorks) is choppy. But so what? It’s not only a vast improvement over Shark Tale. The story, characters, and laugh-a-minute slapstick comedy (including endless visual gags, from spitting up sea water to numerous pratfalls) leave a lasting impression. And as the third consecutive DWA movie to do so, you’ll want to stay through the credits for another (but more legit) dance party. 

While more accessible compared to something like Antz or Shrek, Madagascar still has some occasional potty humor, as well as subtle-but-mild gags that only adults will get, including references to medication, a psychedelic trip via tranquilizer darts, and suggestive dancing. Then there are the clever homages and parodies of classic films like Cast Away, Chariots of Fire, and Planet of the Apes (the funniest since that Simpsons episode from the mid-1990s). Curiously, the R-rated American Beauty is also referenced (but with steaks instead of rose pedals). The filmmakers even snuck in an acronym of a profanity (if you’re really listening) and spell out another plainly. 

What audiences at the time may not have been prepared for was how the movie took an unexpected turn in its third act and got serious, bringing out the wild and predatory side of one significant character and creating conflict and guilt over certain choices and mistakes. (Be careful what you wish for.) One sequence, set to Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World,” features various animals getting devoured by other species. Dark and macabre humor, for sure. Nevertheless, Madagascar highlights the theme of seeing and exploring the world outside our own conformities and sense of captivities (especially true for Alex and Marty, and even the penguins), as well as not giving up on friends and reminding them who they are and what they have. This aforementioned turning point was one of many signs that there was more for DreamWorks Animation to explore, which they continued when they began a new partnership with Paramount Pictures later that year. But that’s a story for another time.