Weekend Screen Scene: Lilo & Stitch

Not longer after the release of the live action Snow White, Disney announced a pause on their live action remakes, but for better or worse, those already made, or in production, will likely see the light of day. Lilo & Stitch is one of them.

I saw and really enjoyed the original Lilo & Stitch back in 2002, but admit it is not a Disney film I ever returned to, so I went into this remake with pretty fresh eyes; I certainly wasn't making constant comparisons to the animated original in my mind. But as I was watching I did begin to question my fond memories of the original, because this new version felt so very, very mild. It's way more of a movie made for kids than one that would appeal to all ages, as the original seemed to. So, yes, I did go back and re-watch the animated version a few days later. And yes, the remake simply pales in comparison.

The character of Stitch is definitely one ripe for CG animation. If kids came away from the original wanting their very own Stitch, they're definitely going to want this legitimately cute and fluffy version. But while Stitch's visual characterizations are damn near perfect, his manic comedic energy is now tailored to simple things kids will find amusing, with far less of the weirdness displayed in the original (Elvis Presley, for instance, is no longer a running gag).

I can't fault anything about Maia Kealoha as Lilo and Sydney Elizebeth Agudong as her sister Nani. They both give amusing and heartfelt performances. Kealoha, in particular, is the kind of child actor I am sure directors dream about: adorable and precocious without feeling like they're mugging for the camera.

To get past the issue of having the two space aliens who are chasing after Stitch look like two space aliens who are chasing after another space alien, this time around, Jumba and Pleakley are able to disguise themselves as actual human beings once they get to Earth. They are played by Zach Galifianakis and Billy Magnussen, respectively, and I wish I could say this comedic duo brings the laughs, but they both just felt flat. I seriously cannot remember laughing at a single moment of their screen time.

The idea that Stitch is an alien-made creation longing for a family is less of a focus this time around. Now the family focus is aimed more at Lilo and Lani, and the threat to separate the two of them. But the introduction of a character not in the original, friendly local Tūtū (Amy Hill) who lives nearby, and is always willing to help, seems like the natural answer to that threat, negating the idea that Lilo and Lani are truly alone. Lilo's story is important, for sure. But Stitch's character arc is just not as touching as it should be, and the film suffers because of it.

Weekend Screen Scene: Snow White

Snow White, Disney's latest live-action update of a classic animated feature, was barely announced before the controversy surrounding it began. Some of the uproar was garbage, and some probably had some legitimacy. In either case, it resulted in a lot of negative buzz for the movie, ultimately even causing Disney to tone down its Hollywood premiere in an excess of caution.

When I say some of the uproar was garbage, I'm talking mainly about the screams of protest that erupted the second it was announced that Rachel Zegler, a Hispanic woman, was cast as Snow White. No matter that she does look the part, and has the voice needed for the musical role. And after seeing the movie, I can safely say, she's good! The movie's other efforts at inclusion could almost be called aggressive, and to that I also say, good. If this Snow White manages to piss off a bunch of racists, I do not have a single problem with that.

I'm less enthusiastic about the casting of Gal Gadot, and only some of that has to do with her stance on the Israel/Palestine conflict. I'm against her primarily because she cannot sing, and she brings nothing but her beauty to the role of the Wicked Queen, a character that deserves to be played with some level of camp and wicked joie de vivre.

Which brings us to the dwarves of it all. Frankly, I do not know how you can approach a story that features five dwarves who are primarily there for comedic relief and not have it be problematic. Feature them as fully animated characters, and you are depriving real actors from the LP community of acting roles. Cast real actors, and you are limiting their humanity to being the film's comic relief. It's a no win situation that Disney seems to have tried to rectify by casting one real LP to do one of the voices, and another as an entirely new character, who is not one of the dwarves.

To be fair, the word "dwarf" is never mentioned in this new Snow White (hence the truncated title), and since the "dwarves" are fully animated, and do not look much like the real LP who is also in the film, I believe we are to think of them as closer to gnomes, or purely fantastical beings. (They are, after all, said to be almost 250 years old).

The film's biggest sin is not in any of these controversies, but that it is simply not a lot of fun. Of course Snow White as a character had to be expanded, and given more agency. Having a heroine whose main character attributes are cleaning and falling in love with a man she's barely even met just would not fly today. And I can't argue with the film's chosen plotline that focuses on rising up against an evil leader who cares more about themself than those they lead, because, hello. But mixing in rebellion with peppy songs and cute (and I mean really, really cute) animals leaves us with a film that, while beautiful, in a Thomas Kincaide kind of way, is tonally all over the place, and only rarely captures the cinematic magic of the original classic.

Don't Be 'Cruella'

Dalmatians? Never heard of such a thing.

When the trailer for Cruella came out last year, the majority response seemed to be, "Do we really need yet another villain origin story, much less one that looks like Joker but with dresses?" That reaction was partly right. No, we don't need a Cruella de Vil origin story, but the one they've given us is not a nihilistic Joker-in a dress fable. Instead, it's a fun, fashion fueled fantasy that is ultimately weighed down by its connection to the Disney franchise.

Like many an origin story, it begins in school days, with a young raven-and-platinum-haired Estella (Tipper Seifert-Cleveland) ostracized by her classmates and her teachers. She doesn't take any of it laying down, releasing the inner fighter she dubs "Cruella" whenever she feels threatened or rebellious.

When tragedy strikes, Estella ends up alone on the streets of London, but quickly finds two literal partners in crime in Jasper and Horace, two ragamuffin brothers, and they grow up to be thick as thieves. Frankly, I was glad to see the childhood stuff end pretty quickly, as the parts with the now grown Estella (Emma Thompson) and Jasper and Horace (Joel Fry and Paul Walter Hauser) running scams and picking pockets on the streets of early 1970's London are pretty fun to watch.

Estella's dream is to be a fashion designer, which firmly sets this up as a prequel to the 1996 live action 101 Dalmatians starring Glenn Close as Cruella, and not the animated version released in 1961. Cruella's eventual obsession with dalmatian puppy pelts is given some explanation as well (although that explanation is so ridiculous I howled with laughter when it was revealed). 

Cruella's designing dreams put her in the path of the Baroness von Hellman (Emma Thompson), London's haute couture legend, who recognizes some talent in Estella, whom she initially dubs "Grubby Girl," and hires her for her fashion house.

What follows is closer to The Devil Wears Prada than 101 Dalmatians (in fact Prada and Cruella share a screenwriter), and that ultimtely got me wishing the whole film could have instead been a kind of hyper, Velvet Goldmine-type fantasized version of the Vivienne Westwood story (who is very clearly the inspiration behind Cruella's punk style), and not the story of a villain we're supposed to love but who we all know eventually grows up to be a PUPPY MURDERER.

The heart of the film, in which the Baroness and Cruella engage in fashion-based battles and one-upmanship, is a complete delight. Along with Jasper and Horance, Cruella's crew includes a one eyed chihuahua named Wink, and Artie (John McCrea), the flamboyantly glam rock owner of a vintage clothing shop. Emma Thompson clearly relishes her villainous role, while also underplaying it in unexpected ways. She's a boss from hell in every sense of the term, but manages to be utterly horrible without a bit of screaming. Also: her turban game is on point.

Emma Stone plays Cruella like a superhero who is discovering her dominion is the power of a show-stopping entrance. Her "rubbish gown" alone should garner costume designer Jenny Beaven an Oscar, though really the film is filled with more costume eye candy than can be caught in one viewing. All of the colorful visuals are backed by a killer soundtrack that, yes, includes some of the expected sounds of the era (the Stones; the Clash; Bowie), but I have to applaud the inclusion of Ike and Tina Turner's covers of Whole Lotta Love and Come Together. Truly inspired.

With a running time of 134 minutes Cruella is definitely too long, and is almost begging for an alternative cut that eliminates the majority of the franchise tie-ins, leaving behind a story of a punk rock princess who beats an evil queen, and lives happily ever after in her own fashion empire, with a couple of cute black and white dogs she has absolutely no desire to murder.

Cruella is available to stream on Disney+.

'A Wrinkle In Time' Could Use More Of The Latter

"I'd help you, Meg, but I can't move an inch in this thing."

There's a lot riding on Disney's A Wrinkle in Time. It's the first film adaptation of what is one of the most popular young adult books of all time; it's the first $100 million film to be directed by an African American woman; the cast is ethnically diverse; and the protagonist is a girl. Pair all that with the fact that the film is opening a few weeks after Black Panther, the biggest African American film success ever, a film I bet not even a surprise sequel to Black Panther could knock out of that top box office spot, and it's a lot of responsibility for one quirky science fiction film to shoulder.

And Ava DuVernay's film, from a screenplay by Frozen-scribe Jennifer Lee, is not an unmitigated disaster. It does a lot of things right, the best of which is wearing its heart on its sleeve; it's nice to see a kids movie that isn't bogged down by knowing winks or cynicism. (I cried more than once.)

Set in a city that looks a lot like Los Angeles, the story centers on brainy outcast Meg (Storm Reid), a teenager who's bullied at school by the popular crowd, while still mourning the sudden disappearance of her NASA scientist father (Chris Pine) four years earlier. She lives with her mother (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), also a scientist, and her precocious, and possibly psychic, adopted five-year-old brother Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe).

After standing up for herself at school, she catches the eye of the popular Calvin O'Keefe (Levi Miller) who is soon telling the self-conscious Meg that he likes her hair (a bit taken directly from the book, given some complicated added meaning with the casting of a black girl as Meg), while following her home for dinner.

These early scenes, along with the flashbacks to a younger Meg in her father's lab, prove that director DuVernay has a gift for directing young actors, and an ability to convey the inner insecurities of teenage girls. Is there another young adult novel she's willing to adapt? Maybe one with a story firmly planted in reality? Because it's when the fantasy starts to enter the film that A Wrinkle in Time falters

The first problem is the three "Mrs," the guiding forces who, in the book, take on different forms, most often appearing as old women, a conventional witch, or just...light. In the film, they are, the majority of the time, youngish, and corpreal. Reese Witherspoon is Mrs Whatsit, the chattiest and youngest (by a couple billion years). Mrs Who, who speaks almost entirely in famous quotations, is played by Mindy Kaling. And Mrs Which, the oldest and wisest of the three, is played by Oprah Winfrey, because of course.

The choice to glitter up their faces to within an inch of their lives, and layer them with miles and miles of the most unflattering fabrics imaginable is perplexing. Perhaps Oprah's blonde locks, and layers of metal and metallics are supposed to make her appear regal and strong, but it mainly looks like she couldn't move much, which is probably why she spends most of the film standing in one place. (Mindy Kaling, on the other hand, is forced to run down a hill wearing three feet of pannier on the sides of her skirt. There's no way to make that look graceful.)

"How come Oprah doesn't have to run??"

The kids adventures across the universe start out promising on the lush planet of Uriel, with its flying flowers and jutting mountains. Less enchanting is Mrs Whatsit's transformation into a flying fig leaf (wither the winged centaurs of the novel?) in a scene that veers into the silly when it should be magical.

The film gets less visually interesting as it moves on, making a stop on a dark lava rock planet to visit a seer known as the "Happy Medium" (Seth Galifianakis, bringing his trademarked and much needed deadpan comedy to the part), before landing on the conformity-filled planet of Camazotz, home to the universe's dark force, known simply, as IT, which is visualized, once again, as something akin to molten lava.

Not enough time is spent in any of these worlds, and the film, though two hours long, feels oddly rushed. Disney made a previous attempt to adapt A Wrinkle in Time into a miniseries in 2003, and while the result was terrible, the format feels more fitting for the material. If The Hobbit can be made into three movies, the same could certainly be done with Wrinkle.

Because the moments that are supposed to be the most awe-inspiring fall flat, it ends up being at its best when it's at its simplest. The pure joy Charles Wallace conveys at the beginning of the journey makes his turn at the end all the more heartbreaking. (Young Deric McCabe is really good.) An emotional moment between Meg and her father is effective because it is just raw emotion on screen, special effects-free. And Mrs Which's words of wisdom to young Meg, about self acceptance and inner strength, work because they're true, and because it's Oprah up there. No bedazzled eyebrows needed.

'Moana' Isn't Your Standard Disney Princess Movie, And That's A Good Thing

This review originally appeared on SFist.com.

Towards the middle of Moana, Disney's latest non-Pixar animated release, the demi-god Maui calls the heroine "princess." Moana corrects him, telling him she's not a princess, she's the daughter of the chief.

"You're wearing a dress and you have an animal sidekick. You're a princess," replies Maui.

He has a point.

Granted, the dress she wears doesn't sparkle in any way, and her animal sidekick is a mentally challenged chicken that doesn't talk, but in many ways she does resemble a Disney princess: she's beautiful, with long flowing hair; she's rebellious; and while she may not be "royalty," she's heir to the top position in her village. (Some say chief, others say princess.)

So, yes. Disney could be accused of creating just another Disney princess. But it's Moana's differences from those previous princesses that are key.

For one, she's not white. Yes, Disney has given us Princesses of Color in the past, but let's face it, the majority of them have been alt-right approved. (Not to mention that the most popular animated Disney movie of all time, Frozen, was so white, I'm surprised you could even see the princesses against all that snow.)

For another, there is no love interest. There's no prince destined for Moana's hand, and while she does spend the majority of the movie with a beefy demi-god, their relationship is strictly platonic. Her reward is a successful quest, not a happily-wedded-after.

Moana is steeped in cultural folklore, mainly from the South Pacific islands, and is set during the time when those Polynesian natives were the explorers and settlers, long before the west arrived. The movie opens with a grandmother telling a group of children about Maui, the demi-god who created the islands, in a nice bit of animation that resembles Polynesian tattoos. (Maui's animated tattoos become a running gag later on in the movie as well.)

Moana (Auli'i Cravalho, a Hawaiian native making her screen debut) lives on the island of Motunui, where ever since she was a (really, really cute) baby, she's been drawn to the sea. Her father, Chief Tui Waialiki (Temuera Morrison), is convinced any attempts to venture past the island's reef will be met with doom.

But as their island begins to lose its fish and its crops, Moana believes their only hope is to leave the island, and, following the lead of her grandmother's stories, find Maui and force him to return the stolen heart of Te Fiti. It makes a little more sense in the movie, though really, it's just a story device to get Moana and Maui together.

And once they are together, the film hits its stride. The Rock gives Maui just the right amount of bravado —: he's a jerk, but a lovable one. Because this is not a Pixar movie, it means the movie breaks for songs, and even Maui gets one, the amusing and pretty catchy You're Welcome, which, along with the rest of the film's songs, has lyrics written by Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda.

Of course, Moana gets a ballad as well (How Far I'll Go), but I'm not sure it's going to become a song parents learn to hate as much as Let It Go, mainly because I don't think it's going to be as big of a hit, regardless of the presence of that word "go" in there. (A better song comes care of Jemaine Clement, who makes an appearance as a Bowie-esque giant crab in love with Shiny things.)

The majority of the movie follows Moana and Maui on their ocean voyage, as Moana learns to become an ocean navigator, on the way to saving the world. And refreshingly, once Maui gets past the princess jokes, he learns to treat her as an equal, and not as a helpless maiden.

In fact, there's not a lot that's girly about Moana. On every step of her journey, her gender is never an impediment, and is rarely brought into play. Now, I don't know if that's because the movie was written by eight people, only one of whom is a woman, or because it was directed by four dudes, or if it was actually by conscious design. And it doesn't really matter. By giving us a heroine that acts the way heroes always have, perhaps Disney has finally given us a "princess" movie that can cross that mythical gender divide.