The animation studio Pixar produced its first movie, Toy Story (1995), when I was a boy. I liked it well enough but did not love it as much as others did. The first Pixar movie to capture my imagination was unquestionably Monsters, Inc. (2001). I found it incredibly creative and infectiously funny. Through the years and decades, Pixar has gained the reputation of producing stories that are qualitatively superior to other animated features (and in many cases they are better than live action features). In addition to Toy Story and Monsters, Inc., many people cite Wall-E (2008), Up (2009), Inside Out (2015), and Soul (2020) as being exceptionally good.
Thankfully, other studios have stepped up their games in the last decade or two: Iron Giant (1999, Warner Bros.), The Secret of Kells (2009, Les Armatuers, Vivi Film, Cartoon Saloon, France 2 Cinéma), Winnie the Pooh (2011, Walt Disney), Kubo and the Two Strings (2016, Laika), and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022, Dreamworks).
However, not everything Pixar has produced is golden. Some of it lacks any real luster and is rather uninteresting. Occasionally, the studio has even produced, not just a dud, but a truly bad movie, like Turning Red (2022), which is easily Pixar’s worst movie. It is not simply forgettably bad; it is unforgettably bad.
Rambling Ever On has recently published an enjoyable post on all twenty-seven Pixar movies, which I commend. In this piece, I will reflect on three of them.
Monsters, Inc. (2001)
First is Monsters, Inc., directed by Peter Docter, which tells the story of monsters who gather the screams of human children during the night to power their society. The monsters Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal) and James “Sulley” Sullivan (John Goodman) are good friends, but Mike, unlike Sulley, is not good at scaring children; he is much better at making them laugh. Through the course of the movie, the monsters discover that laughter is a better fuel than fear.
Monsters, Inc. teaches that sometimes our perceived flaws may be our best assets. We see this theme in the character of Mike, who believes his inability to scare children is a weakness when, in fact, it reveals his strength. In some ways, this movie is an illustration of the proverb that laughter is the best medicine. Our natural, God-given characteristics are strengths, and we should lean into them, even in a society that does not (currently) honor them.
In addition, children do not have to fear the nighttime monsters of their imaginations—bedtime and darkness need not terrorize them—in a manner of speaking, they can laugh at them. However, not all monsters are as harmless as the Mikes and Sulleys of the world. Some monsters, such as the villainous Randall Boggs (Steve Buscemi) and Henry J. Waternoose III (James Coburn), are quite dangerous. Wisdom does not teach us to act as if monsters are simply fictional or else harmless. Rather, wisdom cultivates within us a moral imagination by teaching us to distinguish between the real and the false so that we are not scared of the imaginary but respond appropriately to the truly dangerous.
Monsters, Inc. is a worthwhile movie. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature but lost (sadly) to Shrek. In addition to being inventive, it looks good and is funny. Also, its voicework is superb.
Up (2009)
A second movie I will reflect on is Up. This movie, also directed by Docter, rightly earned the Oscar for Best Animated Feature, competing against Coraline, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Princess and the Frog, and The Secret of Kells (each of these movies is memorable, except for Princess). Up tells the story of a widower who is working through the grief that has resulted from the passing of his late wife. Many people have rightly commented on its opening ten minutes of boy and girl falling in love, getting married, learning heartache, and growing old together. However, the remaining seventy-five minutes are also thematically rich.
Up poses important questions: Will grief improve us or destroy us? Will it make us better or worse members of society? Will it teach us kindness, or will it reveal our selfishness? These are the questions Carl Fredricksen faces throughout the story. He must determine whether he will be accommodating and patient toward an eight-year-old boy, Russell Jang, as well as the dog Dug and the bird Kevin, or whether he will become like the villain, Charles Muntz.
As I have spoken to people through the years about this movie, I have observed that older people are often impacted by it more than younger people. To the extent this observation is true, perhaps it is because older people have more emotional and experiential knowledge of the movie’s themes than younger people who have not personally trod the exhilarating path of spousal love and the heartbreaking path of spousal death like older people have. Nevertheless, contemplating these concepts is good, even if we have not experienced them (yet), because it prompts us to imagine how to respond virtuously to suffering before we are drowning in it.
Another rich theme from this movie is the interaction between an old man and a young boy. In a culture that does not prioritize intergenerational relationships, this motif is refreshing. Young boys should look up to mature men of character, and older men should invest in younger generations. The young learn wisdom, and the old learn patience. In addition to learning kindness toward Russell, Mr. Fredricksen learns kindness toward Dug and Kevin, whose characters provide wonderful comedy; man’s respectful interaction with the dog and bird also models a good ethic of creation care. Finally, Up has a great soundtrack (Michael Giacchino), which I have heard playing from wedding venues to study halls.
Brave (2012)
A final movie I will examine is the underappreciated but wondrous Brave (2012). Like the movie Turning Red, it is the story of the relationship of parent and child and the negotiation of the past and present. Growing up is hard; figuring out how you as an individual fit into the tradition of the family and culture in which you are born and reared is challenging. Yet unlike Turning Red, Brave does not ridicule and belittle tradition; it honors the past while also recognizing that times change.
In Brave, Merida (Kelly Macdonald) struggles with growing up and finding her place within the larger inheritance of her Scottish tradition. But, over the course of the movie, she comes to find her place within the inheritance while also being true to herself, and her mother, Queen Elinor, comes to empathize with her daughter’s experience. Admittedly, not all tradition is equally worth preserving—some is, and some is not. However, Turning Red does not make such distinctions, whereas Brave recognizes this reality, observing that some cultural norms and traditions are worthy of preserving and passing on.
Part of the charm of Brave concerns its folk sensibility. While pop culture may have its limited place, it tends to divide people generationally, and the quality of such artifacts is often cheap and usually fleeting. By contrast, folk culture unites people of different generations, and its artifacts are received, treasured, and bequeathed. Many animated features of recent memory have a pop culture sensibility, reflecting the music and norms and style of its cultural moment. However, over time, these movies do not age so well. A folk sensibility rises above these challenges; it is deeper, richer, and longer lasting. Consequently, movies like Brave feel less cheap than other movies whose shine fades more quickly.
Although Brave is not as beloved as some of these other movies, it rightly won Best Animated Feature from the Academy (competing with Frankenweenie, ParaNorman, The Pirates! Band of Misfits, and Wreck-It Ralph). In addition to these points about motif, setting, and sensibility, other elements deserve commendation. The voicework, especially from Macdonald (Merida) and Billy Connolly (King Fergus), is great. Its score (Patrick Doyle) makes for wonderful listening. Finally, the comedic relief of Harris, Hubert, and Hamish, Merida’s three triplet brothers who, incidentally, have no speaking parts, is really clever.
Conclusion
A good movie is more than technically excellent. Certainly, it has technical excellence, but it also has moral excellence. It tells a good story with proper arcs and themes, and it tells it in a good manner. These movies are truly good stories, teaching about the importance of self-worth, wisdom, grief, intergenerational relationship, tradition, and folk culture.
“Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things” (Philippians 4:8, NASB).
October 10, 2023
This is wonderful! Thank you for helping me think deeply even about fun entertaining things! What are your thoughts about Elemental?
October 11, 2023
😁 Great to hear from you, Jacklyn. Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I have not yet seen Elemental but plan to do so soon. I’ll let you know what I think! Hope you guys are doing well!