Showing posts with label Tom Hanks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tom Hanks. Show all posts

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

Film Review | Toy Story 3 (2010)

Combining both the rule of diminishing returns and the inverse relationship between the length of time you leave between installments in a film franchise and the quality of the newest entry, Toy Story 3 should be awful. Add to that the fact that both Toy Story and Toy Story 2 were beloved modern classics of animation by the time of Toy Story 3's release and it could have become the most derided third film of a trilogy since The Godfather Part III. Surely if any studio could manage to steer clear of this minefield of cinematic failure, it was Pixar? Simply put: yes, it surely was.

Toy Story 3, like Toy Story 2 before it, retains many of the successful elements seen since the series' first installment. All the key voice cast members return sounding as fresh as ever (aside from Jim Varney as Slinky Dog due to his death in 2000, but whose role is ably and respectfully filled by Blake Clark). A wealth of new talent join them, each as perfectly fit to their animated counterparts as the franchise veterans. Ned Beatty as Lots-O'-Huggin' Bear deftly creates the series' most finely crafted and performed antagonist, with Michael Keaton providing strong and often laugh-out-loud support as Ken. Additional supporting roles are filled by seasoned performers including Whoopi Goldberg, Bonnie Hunt and Timothy Dalton (as one of the series' most brilliant minor characters, Mr. Pricklepants: a lederhosen-attired plush hedgehog with a propensity for Shakespearean performance), which lends the film an essence of cinematic eminence.

After piloting the first two installments, John Lasseter receives credits as story writer and executive producer here whilst handing over control to Lee Unkrich in his directorial debut. Unkrich proves to be a worthy successor staying true to the style and passion Lasseter infused into his films; Toy Story 3 takes in a great deal of cinematic heritage including classic prison escape thrillers and an opening sequence which trumps both of the previous films' magnificent efforts. Unkrich blends the best elements from the franchise's past whilst keeping his film feeling original and contemporary. Even a handful of sequences clearly designed to take advantage of the film's 3D release in cinemas work just as well with one dimension removed. Pixar's ability to make the design of their characters, initially restricted by 1995 animation technology, still feel as crisp and appealing as ever is easy to overlook but simply cannot be understated.

Whilst Toy Story 3 at its core tells the story of a rescue mission once again, it manages more ably than its predecessor to bring an entirely original slant to proceedings. But perhaps most impressive of all is Unkrich's ability to make Toy Story 3 the most emotional entry of the trilogy. An early scene involving the toys effecting an elaborate ploy to get the attention of the now young adult Andy (John Morris) using his mobile phone is heartbreaking, and the film's final sequence will have you blubbering like a baby, especially if you've been with Woody and co. since the beginning. Elsewhere the film touches on areas that lesser animated films wouldn't dare go near, with existential questions surrounding death and the reasons for being etched within some of the film's most moving sequences.

Toy Story 3 therefore rounds off Pixar's flawless trifecta, one of the greatest film trilogies ever accomplished. All three deserve recognition in history as masterworks of animation and cinema, and their influence will undoubtedly resonate through the years and decades of film far into the future. Or as Buzz Lightyear would say more succinctly: "to infinity and beyond".

10/10

Tuesday, 16 April 2013

Film Review | Toy Story 2 (1999)

After the overwhelming success with both critics and audiences of Toy Story, it's no surprise that Pixar chose to create a sequel to capitalize on its success only four years later. No other franchise from the studio would receive a sequel until Cars 2's release in 2011. It could be that Pixar didn't want to emulate the dead-horse-flogging antics of rival studio Dreamworks, churning out one sequel after another no matter how low the quality sank. Or maybe the masters of computer animation were anxious that any future sequels made by them matched up to the incredibly high bar set in Toy Story 2.

A great deal of Toy Story 2's success comes from returning director John Lasseter's decision to carry over many positive elements from the original film. Hanks and Allen again deliver first class vocal turns as Woody and Buzz, as do the rest of the returning cast. New additions to the acting roster are just as excellent: Joan Cusack as cowgirl doll Jessie fits the character to a tee with a larger-than-life performance; Kelsey Grammer as Stinky Pete draws on his thespian roots, as well as his well-known television role as the pretentious Dr. Frasier Crane, to create a classic cinematic villain; and Wayne Knight is a perfect fit for ruthless toy collector Al McWhiggin.

Lasseter's direction here is in many ways even more impressive than in Toy Story. The advances in Pixar's animation in the four years since the first film are regularly obvious, but always used with subtlety and panache by the director. Toy Story's opening was intentionally low key and all the more powerful for it; the start of its sequel sits at the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of flamboyance, delivering a breathtaking action sequence that takes in a great many cinematic nods and references along the way, but at the same time Lasseter once again crafts a compelling and entertaining sequence. Elsewhere we see refined examples of something Pixar are now seasoned experts of ingeniously crafting from computer code: pathos. I defy anyone to watch Jessie's flashback sequence without experiencing a pang of genuine emotion within themselves.

Arguably, Toy Story 2 doesn't avoid every pitfall many sequels often fall into. The story here revisits some of the key beats of that seen in Toy Story with a rescue mission at the core of both films, only with Woody and Buzz's roles reversed from the first film to the second. But this never takes anything away from Toy Story 2, and the richness of the craft and depth of the ideas on display here mean that any repetition can be wholly forgiven. Toy Story 2 is every bit as accomplished, imaginative and entertaining as its predecessor, deserving recognition as one of the best animated films ever made.

10/10

Monday, 15 April 2013

Film Review | Toy Story (1995)

It's in no way an understatement to say that Toy Story is a cinematic milestone: one of the most important films ever made. It transformed the landscape of animated cinema forever and managed to do so slap-bang in the middle of the Disney Renaissance, one of the most critically and commercially successful periods for the animation giant. But whilst being a watershed moment in CGI, eighteen years after its release Toy Story still feels as fresh, vibrant and masterfully crafted as it did in 1995.

Toy Story perfects that synthesis of performance, direction and art so rarely seen and so precious when it happens. The vocal performances consummately fit their animated counterparts without fault. Both Tom Hanks and Tim Allen as Woody and Buzz Lightyear respectively cease to be actors, inhabiting their characters absolutely and sublimely. The chemistry between the two is pure cinematic gold, making the journey the two toys make from rivals to odd couple to double act an intoxicating mix of childhood fantasy and raw authenticity. The supporting characters too are fleshed out superbly, their voices expertly cast and each as entertaining as the next.

The script is spot on, with joke after joke hitting the mark. Toy Story effortlessly blends wordplay with visual humour, as well as providing what is now seen as a Pixar trademark - comedy that will entertain the kids, but will also draw genuine laughs from the adults. There are numerous subtle references and in-jokes littered throughout, and each is a winner.

The directorial craft from John Lasseter is consistently stunning. Shot after shot shows a passion and gift for storytelling influenced by some of the finest cinema ever made. Within Toy Story you'll find sequences of high emotion, heart-pounding action and unsettling horror, underpinned by one of the best buddy stories ever told. It's also to Pixar's credit that, nearly two decades on, the animation within their debut feature is still just as impressive as ever, the design of their characters effortlessly retaining a timeless yet contemporary quality.

Perhaps Toy Story's finest achievement of all is its transcendence of both genre and target audience. To describe it simply as a "children's film" or an "animated adventure" is to ignore its universal appeal and broad spectrum of influence and ambition. It's a film which has earned its place in cinematic history but, most importantly of all, it's a film which provides pure enjoyment through comprehensively refined cinema. Simply put, Toy Story is flawless.

10/10

Saturday, 26 May 2012

Film Review | Big (1988)

No matter how many films an actor makes, there will always be a handful of films which define their career. In the case of Tom Hanks, there are any number of films in which you could pick out career high points and cultural touchstones. But no matter how many acclaimed performances Hanks has given, and will no doubt continue to give, Big will always have a place in my ultimate Hanks films.

The film sees twelve-year-old Josh Baskin (David Moscow) make a wish on a fortune teller machine called Zoltar to become "big", only to wake up the next morning as an adult. The "big" version of Josh (Hanks), with the help of his best friend Billy (Jared Rushton), must survive in the adult world until he can manage to transform himself back to his childhood self.

Some quick research into '80s cinema shows that Big's high concept is not an entirely original one for the era, with several other child-to-adult transformation or bodyswap films floating around in the years either side of this film's release. Most of those have since sunk almost without trace, and certainly none have been retained with such acclaim and affection as Big. And it's no exaggeration to lay most of the credit for this firmly at the feet of Hanks.

That's not to say that the film isn't highly successful in other ways. The cast are almost universally strong: Elizabeth Perkins is incredibly likable as disenchanted businesswoman Susan who is enamoured with adult Josh's childish personality, eventually becoming his love interest; John Heard also does well as Josh's antagonistic coworker Paul, doing well to successfully flesh out a character who starts out as a fairly one-dimensional counterpoint to Hanks' hero; and credit must also be extended to Rushton, who demonstrates genuine energy and chemistry with Hanks throughout.

But, as stated before, this is Tom Hanks' show through and through. From the first moment the adult version of Josh is on screen to the last, we believe in him completely. Everything from Hanks' body language to the inflections within his voice are perfect throughout. His performance is a consummate success for many reasons, but possibly the most important of all is that Hanks doesn't play Baskin as a boy in a man's body, he simply plays him as a boy. Hanks becomes a child, he just happens to look about thirty.

The other half of Big's brilliance comes from the writing talents of Gary Ross and Anne Spielberg combined with Penny Marshall's direction. Marshall knows exactly how to make the audience not only understand what Hanks' character is feeling, but feel it themselves. Josh's first night away from home, staying in a complete dive of a hotel in the middle of New York City, is one of the film's most emotional scenes where you feel fear just as palpably as Hanks' character. Probably the film's most enduring and iconic image is that of Hanks performing on an oversized foot-operated keyboard alongside his boss Mr. MacMillan (a charming Robert Loggia). How better to demonstrate that Josh is a child in a grown-up world than by having him play beginners' pieces "Chopsticks" and, of course, "Heart And Soul" on a giant piano?

Big isn't perfect. Like I said, the plot is nothing original and there are a handful of times where you have to remind yourself that this is a modern fairytale to accept some of the lucky breaks that Josh gets in his job and his circumstances. The film also misses a beat slightly at the end of the middle act, before picking up the pace and the interest again as things move towards the finale.

But these minor issues can be overlooked thanks to the charm and magic the film is imbued with in so many other ways. Receiving an Oscar nomination for his performance, Big was the first real opportunity Tom Hanks had to show that he was an actor of great range and adaptability; five years later, with a Best Actor win for Philadelphia, Hanks had demonstrated that his abilities first shown off in Big were no fluke.

9/10