Ponyo (review)
Oh dear. What’s happened to Hayao Miyazaki, the master of beautiful, poignant, deeply weird and profoundly philosophical Japanese animation? Has he lost his touch? Is the magic gone?
Oh dear. What’s happened to Hayao Miyazaki, the master of beautiful, poignant, deeply weird and profoundly philosophical Japanese animation? Has he lost his touch? Is the magic gone?
I’ll give Robert Rodriguez this: He follows his own vision. But so did Ed Wood.
If there was a very small child whom I wanted to introduce to the magic of movies, I could do a lot worse than this harmless but rather cute action fantasy…
So, this Ashley Tisdale person is famous for something, is she?
So, is this the fourth Harry Potter movie, or the fifth? It’s the sixth? Really, already? Ah, that’s the one where Harry goes to the magic school, which has yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right? And Harry fights the evil wizard?
I don’t wanna hear anyone talking about raped childhood memories again. Are these guys kidding? This is some of the goofiest stuff I’ve ever seen, even grading on the nostalgia scale.
This is how far cartoons have descended in the last decade and a half: *The Lion King* was Shakespearean. *Ice Age* is *Everybody Loves Raymond*ean.
Whom did the filmmakers think their audience would be? Did they actually have a particular audience in mind?
How did the Pixar folks time it just right to get this cheerful and fantastical yet never unrealistically optimistic movie before our eyes just as we are getting desperate for a movie to hug us reassuringly?
A morass of Three Stooges-level slapstick and juvenile-style playground taunting…