Showing posts with label Richard Kind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard Kind. Show all posts

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Inside Out



**Spoiler Alert**

Director(s): Pete Docter, Ronaldo Del Carmen/Voices: Amy Poehler, Bill Hader, Phyllis Smith, Richard Kind, Lewis Black, Mindy Kaling, Kaitlyn Dias, Diane Lane and Kyle MacLachlan

It isn't often I post my impressions of a Disney/Pixar animated film, which is mostly due to my impatience I feel for most of the stories. It's been some time since I blogged about any animated release (Peabody and Sherman may have have been the last) but then Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen's excellent Inside Out came along last weekend and not only entertained me but inspired me to post something about the movie.

Inside Out tells the story of a little girl named Riley (voice:Kaitlyn Dias), who, with her her mother and father (voices: Diane Lane and Kyle MacLachlan, respectively), are on a move from their home in Minnesota to San Francisco. A trying enough experience for any child, we literally get to know how her emotions shape her impressions, which are personified as five entities: Joy (Amy Poehler), Anger (Lewis Black), Fear (Bill Hader), Sadness (Phyllis Smith) and Disgust (Mindy Kaling). The group presides from a command center inside Riley's mind. The ever effervescent Joy serves as a kind of leader; always aggressively pushing her agenda of happiness while the participation of the other emotions is highly regulated and subject to her intense but buoyant scrutiny. Allegorized further, Riley's memories are connected to each emotion and preserved as small spheres assigned a correlative color: Joy (bright yellow), Sadness (blue), Anger (red), Fear (lavender) and Disgust (green). The vast number of spheres are stored in either long term and permanent memory storage, or short term.

The emotional command center is connected to theme-park-like villages that represent vital functions in Riley's life, such as Family, Goofy land (all the goofy moments shared with her parents) and her passions, like hockey. The park-like places are separated from the command center by very narrow bridges and are nourished by Riley's experiences and emotions. In time, we see the theme-villages are only as sturdy and upright as their importance in Riley's life.

The whole allegory is such an intelligent way of communicating to children how crucial our emotions are in forming memories and determining how strong or fragile our relationships with family will be. I thought the film might make the egregious misstep of pushing a joy-only message but the story wisely veered away from this conceit.

But as Riley faces the uncertainty and fear of a new home and school, Joy finds her task of keeping her happy and positive exceedingly difficult. We see the new home from Riley's point-of-view, which initially appears dark and dismal. Fear and Disgust share some responsibility for her perspective. Riley becomes apprehensive when her parents inform her their belongings won't arrive for another week. Joy manages to regain control when she taps into Riley's imagination; helping her to form a mental picture of her dreary-looking room as it might be with furnishings and decorations, thus restoring a lighter mood.

The characters in animated movies are only as engaging as the actors who lend their voices. Inside Out fields an exceptional voice cast. We know Amy Poehler can be funny, but here she is able to show her dramatic side as Riley finds herself in less-than-joyous situations. Mindy Kaling is quite amusing as Disgust, as are Lewis Black as Anger and Phyllis Smith, whose Sadness plays a crucial role in the story.

As school proves to be a lonely ordeal and her favorite extracurricular activity--hockey--proves to be a source of frustration, Riley begins to lash out at her parents, much to the consternation of Joy, whose influence begins to decline.

The story takes a troubling turn when Joy and Sadness are accidentally sucked into the pneumatic tube reserved for emo-spheres then jettisoned from the command center and into the world of Riley's psyche. The film becomes very suspenseful and takes on a maddening sense of urgency as Joy and Sadness seem to encounter every obstacle en route to the command center. They eventually become separated. Joy is accidentally plunged into the abyss where Riley's faded memories accumulate. Escape seems impossible.

Desperate to regain the happiness she and her family established in Minnesota, Riley in-advisably buys a bus ticket for her old home while Anger, Fear and Disgust do everything in their power to upset her plans, only to find they lack the appropriate emotional response to deal with her problem. In an attempt to rescue Riley from a possible monumental blunder, Sadness, rather than Joy, becomes the heroine we didn't anticipate.

Docter, who also co-wrote the script, shows a sure hand in sustaining a high level of suspense and urgency. I found myself squirming; wondering how Joy would extricate herself in time to help Riley in her darkest hour.

Inside Out is rich in symbolism and psychological allegory. The story is an effective synthesis of light and dark and its lessons are quite compelling. I like the way the story stressed the importance of the less desirable emotions of Fear, Anger and Disgust and their role in Riley's self-preservation. Life can never be and will never be solely joyous. A healthy psyche integrates all the emotions in carefully calibrated proportions; or so the film seems to say.

The film isn't without humor. It is quite funny to see Riley's mother and father's own "control centers." The father's is especially amusing, which sometimes works hilariously at cross-purposes with the mother's.

The film also shows that some of what we carry around in youth warrants disposing, such as Riley's imaginary best friend, Bing Bong (Richard Kind). Useless but oblivion-resistant memories, like a chewing gum jingle, surface inappropriately but amusingly throughout the story.

The story seems so simple yet so much is at stake. A little girl coping with a move and a new school doesn't seem like a promising premise on which to build a story but any plot can be absorbing if the the director has the imagination to realize it. We can credit Docter being such a filmmaker. But he isn't only creative; he also asks that his young audience be alert and attentive to his mildly cerebral story.

One can gauge the failure or success of Disney or children's cinema by the restless energy of the audience. I was pleased to say the audience was mostly rapt; silence reigned supreme.

The film is at once a crowd-pleaser and a good animated film. But it will no doubt charm a more mature audience too. Thank goodness. Another afternoon of Tomorrowland would have been excruciating.

Inside Out should enjoy a healthy run at the multiplex. Give it a chance; you might find it enchanting.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Obvious Child



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Gillian Robespierre/Starring: Jenny Slate, Gaby Hoffman, Jake Lacy and Richard Kind

Some former Saturday Night Live alumni bear the stigma of leaving the show without ever having the opportunity to shine but later they manage to blossom on the stage, T.V. or film. Jenny Slate, a one-time SNL alumnus, may join the likes of Chris Rock and Sarah Silverman--other alumni who succeeded nicely after undistinguished stints on the show--by establishing her own comedic credentials with the feature Obvious Child.

Slate plays Donna Stern, a woman in her twenties who does stand-up comedy in a local club while also holding down a job in a bookstore that is in its death throes. Her boyfriend has just dumped her for another woman and she medicates herself with excessive drinking. While not bemoaning her relationship status with her roommate and friend Nellie (Gaby Hoffman), she seeks moral support from her divorced parents; father Jacob Stern (Richard Kind) and mother Nancy (Polly Draper).

Early on I felt uneasy; thinking the film was going to be one more Lena Dunham-like, navel-ogling, mopy, comedy-drama with a character who can't seem to find Mr. Decent. The story mercifully veered from the well-worn into the unexpected.

Donna meets a handsome, twenty-something named Max (Jake Lacy), whose nice blandness seems to be a polar extreme to Donna's smart, hip, city-wit. But after a night of one-too-many, the two find themselves lying next to one another in bed the next morning. Donna, still smarting from her break-up and mildly stalking her ex, resists Max; avoiding him and ignoring his calls.

The story takes a significant turn when Donna learns she is pregnant with Max's child. I thought I could accurately plot the rest of the film from this point. But unlike Diablo Cody's Juno, with her character making a seemingly provocative but actually an audience-pleasing choice, Obvious Child blazes a more difficult, more controversial course by showing us a character who is resolute but emotionally unsure in her decision to have an abortion. It is all the more difficult when Max's determined pursuit of Donna leaves her feeling the guilt of removing him from the decision.

It's to first feature director Gillian Robespierre's credit that the film doesn't degenerate into predictable, ABC Family-like drama but maintains its sharp humor, sometimes subversively so. One example is some Donna/Nellie repartee that includes some jokes about abortion, which are funny without trivializing the issue.

I particularly liked the scene where Donna confides in her mother Nancy, with whom she has had a tempestuous relationship. Providing solace and some solidarity, Nancy relates her own experience with abortion in the 60s', which sheds light on a darker time when a woman had more rigid legal and societal obstacles (which haven't vanished altogether).

Jenny Slate is quite amusing and does much with her character while the supporting cast members like Gaby Hoffman, Gabe Liedman and David Cross offer their own funny witticisms and performances to keep the movie humming. Jake Lacy is the film's nice, white-toasty, almost impossibly nice and supportive love-interest but he seems plausibly so and manages to even exude a subtle magnetism.

Obvious Child is a film whose charms take a while to emerge and when they do, they satisfy. For Robespierre and Slate, it is a fine start to what I hope will be a series of fruitful collaborations.