Tuesday, September 27, 2016

KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS: Guitar Hero


Director: Travis Knight
Writers: Marc Haimes, Chris Butler, Shannon Tindle
Cast: Art Parkinson, Charlize Theron, Matthew McConaughey, Ralph Fiennes, Rooney Mara, George Takei
Runtime: 101 mins.
2016

Kubo and the Two Strings is both an action blockbuster and an animated children's movie, yet it succeeds where those genres typically fail: It is a tight, well-crafted dramatic narrative that amounts to something more thematically substantial than the rote "be yourself" morality of most youth entertainment. In fact, the film is in many ways a direct refutation of the individual-obsessed attitude of the Disney/Dreamworks brand of Western animation. Kubo is the protagonist and the hero, but his hero's journey involves no refusal of the call. He is never anything but kind and caring to his community of friends and family. His ultimate triumph comes not from a sudden discovery of inner strength, but from connection with his predecessors and peace with his legacy.

Certainly it can be said that Kubo plays heavily with cliches. His home destroyed, he sets out in search of three mystical items of warfare, collecting a crew of colorful companions along the way. Yet in the telling of the story, these cliches barely register because 1) They are always earnestly in service of the story rather than propping it up as a crutch, and 2) The true value of Kubo lies in its craftsmanship.


I don't believe I've seen a more beautiful film this year. Since Coraline, studio Laika has cemented itself as the last bastion of stop animation in the mainstream contemporary landscape. Here they've honed their craft and made a film so gorgeous that it also functions as a compelling argument for the survival of the medium.* From the opening scene of a minuscule boat set against the backdrop of an ocean in turmoil, it is clear that Laika is committed to filling every frame with life, beauty, and wonder.

*Though not fiscally. Nobody goes to see these movies. Each of Laika's films since Coraline has made less than their budget in the domestic market. It's likely that the only reason the studio hasn't folded is that it's bankrolled by a Nike billionaire as a passion project for his son (Laika studio head and director of this film Travis Knight).


Of course, a breathtaking environment means little without compelling characters. Kubo's characters are formed with tenderness. Although Laika is an American studio making a film about Japanese culture, they borrow patience and subtlety in editing from Japanese animation. Characters get quiet moments. The camera lingers on the incredible expressiveness of the puppets. Kubo's first appearance in the film is a lengthy scene entirely without dialogue, yet by the end of it we are a part of Kubo's external life and inner world. This is done through the carefully crafted expressions of the characters, as well as some incredible sound design that brings us into the world of objects that they inhabit. I am in love with the folio work: the sound of carefully folded paper, the tiny scraping of a statuette against the floor of a cave, the accidental percussion of setting down a string instrument.


Speaking of, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Dario Marianelli's incredible score for the film, particularly the moments when Kubo plays his shamisen, either for plot purposes or just to pass the time. His outbursts of beautiful music weave themselves throughout the film much like music weaves through the life of a musician.

Kubo's courage, perseverance, and childish sense of fun are all perfectly captured by Art Parkinson's performance. He's flanked by a pair of AAA actors in Charlize Theron as the Monkey and Matthew McConaughey as the Beetle. What could have been a couple of throwaway sidekick roles are lent tremendous depth by their actors. Theron gives the best performance in the film; her role is deceptively simple at first, but with every passing scene Monkey grows more compelling, culminating in an incredible emotionally-wraught and physically strenuous combat scene on a sinking ship, in which the performances, production design, plotting, and tangible physicality of the form all come together in dazzling fashion.


If one were to fault the film for something I suppose it would have to be the screenplay. A few lines of dialogue are wonky, Beetle isn't the fullest character, and as self-aware as the narrative is the characters are still just collecting macguffins. Any of these gripes pale in comparison to the majesty of what Laika has accomplished. This is a film committed to telling a real story, and not holding back or pandering just because its primary intended audience is children. Kubo gently insists upon the lesson Sausage Party taught us recently in its own abrasive way: animation does not need to be squeaky clean and sanded down for the kiddies. Kubo takes it even one step further. Animation does not need to be facile.

3.5 / 5  BLOBS

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