Nothing else to say
“Our next movie is quite simply a masterpiece…”
So said Roger Ebert on one episode of Ebert & Roeper back in 2002. The movie in question was Spirited Away, and up until that point, my knowledge of anime did not extend beyond the Pokémon TV show.
While I never saw the full movie, I saw enough clips on YouTube to see why most people agree movie remakes don’t get as unnecessary (let alone bad) as 1998’s remake of the Hitchcock masterpiece Psycho.
Apparently, when asked why he did the (nearly) shot for shot remake in the first place, director Gus Van Sant responded “So no one else had to.” This mindset is the only silver lining I can think of for Disney with their live action remakes, whether good or bad, and the remake of Lilo & Stitch falls in the latter category.
When you think about it, there are some things in life you would not know about if it weren’t for certain movies.
I’m not talking about historical/biographical films, but more about films that get into the daily lives of people you never knew about.
In the last decade of Disney Live Action Remakes, there was a time where I thought remaking Snow White and the Seven Dwarves was forbidden.
The House of Mouse would not even exist today if the 1937 classic (the first of its kind) did not prevail the expectations, so naturally one would suspect that all of Disney knows that some form of respect is due it.
After the memorably disappointing Moana 2, it seemed like the end of the line for animated films in 2024. While the leader of the pack was clearly The Wild Robot, there was not much else apart from the admirable Inside Out 2 and the humorously bizarre Memoirs of a Snail (it may be hard for me to listen to John Denver for some time now.)
Then, as can only be described as a tsunami, entered Flow.
“DISCOVER WHAT HAPPENED IN OZ BEFORE DOROTHY DROPPED IN!”
So said the radio ad as I sat in my room as a High Schooler, when I first heard of the musical “Wicked.” My first reaction as a theater kid was genuine: “This sounds like one of the stupidest thing I have ever heard of.” Not long after, in the band room at school, our teacher mentioned we would be performing the music of Wicked, and everyone burst into applause…including me (peer pressure is a powerful thing). A little over a year or so later, I finally saw the show on stage, and was a life long fan of what would be come possibly the biggest musical to hit the 21st century (at least until Lin Manuel Miranda came around).
I had finally trusted my instincts, closed my eyes, and took the leap.
Just as Conclave, the new film by Edward Berger (who most recently did the 2022 remake of All Quiet on the Western Front) began, a random thought occurred to me: Ralph Fiennes has not received a knighthood.
Being American, I confess proudly I have no idea how that system works, but he surely belongs in the conversation of the greatest British thespians of the last few decades (it is astounding to me that he only has two Oscar nominations). Like most of the actors in Conclave, he is not one of the best known of movie stars, but he surely is known for capital A Acting.
Like many my age, my cinematic discovery of Michael Keaton was the same as my cinematic discovery of Tim Burton (well, it was actually Batman Returns before Batman.) The third for each would end up being Beetlejuice.
As a kid, it took me a lot of convincing that the guy behind the Batman mask was the same playing the bio exorcist. Still, it was a near perfect introduction to the mind of Tim Burton (I did not get to Pee Wee until later in life), as it made me aware at a young age directors could have there own sense of style.
The best of the Disney/Pixar films have been able to somewhat shape our views of the world, regardless of age.
As a kid, the aftermath of Toy Story had me admittedly silently trying to sneak a look at my toys, to catch them in the act of being alive. It took me a while to stop looking at a fish tank in a doctors office differently thanks to Finding Nemo, or what it would be like talking with my ancestors after Coco. And yes, even after nearly a decade, I still sometimes wonder what the emotions in my head are like after the original Inside Out.
The tagline for George Lucas’ pre-Star Wars breakthrough American Graffiti reads
“Where were you in 62?”
Simply put, I was a quarter of a century away from being born. Even so, if the film were set in 1962, 1922, or 2006 (the year I graduated), the film would still showcase human elements that apply to young adults everywhere.
Nothing else to say