Fantastic, Mr. Fox (Alert Nerd Family Show)

Fantastic, Mr. Fox (Alert Nerd Family Show)

Dec 02

I left Fantastic Mr. Fox a bit nonplussed by the whole affair. I realize that’s a serious asshole move when you’ve just viewed a stop-motion animated film, perhaps the most difficult style of filmmaking available to today’s auteurs, with the possible exception of hopping in one of Jimmy Cameron’s super-submarines to stage a Titanic sequel amid the wreckage of the actual boat. It’s sort of like eating a home-cooked meal and then declaring, “Meh! The salt in the mashed potatoes was unforgivable!” You can say it, sure, but you’re assuring your douchebaghood.

But then, mild pleasure and confusion are common reactions for me when it comes to Wes Anderson’s films. And yet, he’s probably my favorite filmmaker working today. 

He makes the kind of movies that linger in my brain and slowly unpack themselves over days, months, even years. Other than big dumb event movies, the only films I can say I rewatch with any regularity are Wes Anderson’s movies. I went on a BIG Rushmore kick in my mid-twenties, and The Royal Tennenbaums is one I’ve returned to as well.

When it comes out on DVD, I have a feeling I’ll be returning to Fox. In fact, I hope I can hook my kids on it so we have to watch it over and over. I’m betting it’s a grower.

For me, Anderson’s films are so stylized and full of his distinct voice that it’s hard to get past that level on a first viewing. I definitely enjoy the experience, and I recognize the value of what I’ve seen, but I don’t feel like I’m really getting everything. For example, it took me reading Dan Carlson’s excellent Fox review at Pajiba to realize that Fox is another Anderson movie about fathers and sons.

It’s also sort of an animated High Fidelity, in the sense that Fox (George Clooney) has to learn how to let go of his childish playthings and accept that he’s grown up and can change. He also learns to accept and enjoy what he has, instead of wishing for something more without knowing what “more” means.

Again, though, to me there was so much style to absorb that it took some reflection to suss out those thematic threads. That’s not a slam, in my opinion; I think it speaks to the layers at work in Anderson’s films that they can even sustain more than one viewing, let alone reward them.

Visually, Fox is a stunner; I love stop-motion animation because it’s so unreal and tactile at the same time, and the quivering hairs on these characters’ faces as they deliver dialogue are a constant reminder of that. There’s an opening sequence of Fox and his wife-to-be breaking into a farm to steal a bird that’s so fun and amazing that it made me giggle with glee. There are moments throughout the film like that; they’re quintessentially Wes Anderson, but the stop motion adds a new level of enjoyment. I kinda wish Royal Tennenbaums had been stop motion now.

More than anything else, I walked away from Fox curious, mostly entertained, and fascinated by this new growing subgenre that Carlson totally nails:

It’s tempting to say that it should belong with Where the Wild Things Are to a new subgenre of films: Pseudo-Children’s Movies Meant To Be Enjoyed Solely by 25- to 40-Year-Olds Reflecting on Their Own Youths, perhaps.

It’s a curious phenomenon, creating adaptations of great childrens’ literature that aren’t really good kids movies. I know I wouldn’t want my kid to see Fox until she was much older, but of course, your mileage may vary. I’m a grown-up, fortunately, and I think it’ll be traveling with me long enough to show her eventually. I’m looking forward to it already.

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