A Bug’s Life

I have seen every Pixar film as it has come out, but a few of them predate my efforts to write down my thoughts, so those have to wait for me to have a repeat viewing before I jot down any impressions. I was going to have to qualify that with a statement that I didn't actually catch Planes, but that was Lasseter working with Disneytoon, so it turns out I don't have to. One of the films I never got around to writing anything about was A Bug’s Life, which I don’t think I’ve properly watched since the early 2000s. Though it shows its age now, A Bug’s Life still thrives on its heartfelt story, likeable ensemble cast and ambition – and besides, we make allowances for 90s CG. Even if the fact is that if it came out today, it would be called badly-done, we are aware how pioneering it was at the time, how much better than contemporaneous video game intros – and, indeed, Antz – it looks, and as a result make allowances for it. Besides, vibrant older animation looks  quite a lot like some highly advanced claymation in any case.

The story of A Bug’s Life isn’t a thousand miles from Timon’s story in The Lion King, especially if you’ve heard his cut verse from ‘Hakuna Matata’. Flik works in the ant colony, paying his dues, though he doesn’t accept without question the prevailing view that not only is an ant’s life one long grind, but that their lot in life is to not only gather food for themselves but for the big, mean grasshopper gang as well – an option not explored by Aesop, I must say. When one day, just before the ‘offering’ to the grasshoppers is made, one of the crazy inventions Flik makes to try to speed up the harvesting process goes awry and knocks the entire feast the colony has prepared into the water that surrounds the ants’ little island. His carelessness makes him the outcast of the society for a while, but when he seizes on the idea of going out into the wider world to seek ‘warrior bugs’ who will fight off the grasshoppers, the elder council see it as either suicide or a very lengthy waste of time – so agree to let him go.

In the ‘city’, Flik does indeed find some big, tough-looking bugs, but what he doesn’t know is that they’re actually circus performers. They think he’s a talent scout, he sees them getting lucky enough to knock out some flies, and there’s a classic misunderstanding. However, once everyone realises the mistake, Flik still tries to cover everything up by devising a plan of his own. Meanwhile, the grasshoppers debate what’s really at the heart of this film – the fact that when a small minority oppress and effectively enslave a larger group, they end up using fear to avoid rebellion, but how long can revolution be held off? It’s a fascinating mirror to historical events, and gives thought-provoking analogies to racial conflicts of the past.

First and foremost, though, of course this is a kids’ comedy about a misunderstanding, revolving around insects. The most memorable element of the film is the collection of insects who make up the circus – personalities made to reflect or invert expectations about how a particular insect is expected to behave. There’s the beautiful butterfly girl, the rather doddery old mantis who plays a mystic, the ladybird who of course wants to be seen as a tough guy, the big fat ridiculous caterpillar and…well, Niles from Frasier in stick insect form. They work brilliantly together, and Pixar stalwart John Ratzenberger does well making his flea ringmaster likeable despite him being the one to not only fire our heroes but inadvertently messes up their more high-minded plots not just once but twice.

Perhaps the biggest problem with this ensemble is that Flik – quite intentionally – looks a lot like all the other ants (four-legged to look less freaky, I assume). Amidst such a cast neither he nor his princess love interest really stick in the mind, and the everyman hero becomes rather forgettable. But at the same time, there’s a point made there about the unremarkable one being able to be brave enough to stand up for himself…though as histories of war unfortunately show us, most invading forces wouldn’t have threatened so much killing and never managed it.

The bad guys are also well-crafted, with Kevin Spaacey having a marvellous time as the lead baddie and his dimwitted brother in the comic foil role is also not so absurd that he irritates. There’s a crazy feral grasshopper, too, who gets one of the best moments in that sadly now-gone institution of early Pixar – the fake blooper reel during the credits. This one may be the best of them all.

A Bug’s Life doesn’t quite have the universality of Toy Story, the emotional wallop of Up, the cuteness of Wall-E or the frenetic energy and beauty of Finding Nemo, but it has so much of each of them that it still comes near the top of any essential-Pixar list. 

Wall-E

Considering I didn’t like the trailer, finding Wall-E’s Johnny 5-derived design bland and the premise dull, I was very pleasantly surprised by the uplifting experience of seeing the film. This is what Pixar should have been doing instead of Cars. This is their first film since Finding Nemo that feels innocent and good-hearted - The Incredibles is great but it’s smart and sassy. Wall-E is unashamedly cutesy and sentimental, as if John Lasseter and co took that thank-you from Ghibli to heart and started trying to make films like Totoro.

Balancing the Pixar strengths of fondness for the underdog and high-octane slapstick, it encapsulates all that they do best. The intro film about a magician reminds us that Pixar is great at expressive silent comedy, and most of the first act of the film reinforces that, and Wall-E himself is undeniably extremely cute. The second half has a darker tint, although it’s worth remembering that the reason given for the characters’ lifestyle is low gravity rather than laziness or escapism (not a hugely original idea): the effects of this sedentary way of living are not nearly as permanent as they ought to be, so in many ways the uplifting ending rang slightly false. But mankind is not central to this story, robots are - and bleakness has little place here. Pixar's small-scale story painted on an immense canvas cannot fail to charm.

Obvious and familiar, but then, it’s telling time-honoured stories in strange new hues that Pixar does best.

(originally written 21.7.08)

Finding Nemo

‘Finding Nemo was a joy to watch, if not on a par with the Toy Story films (graphic effects excluded). Another charming, escapist buddy movie with some incredibly entertaining voice actors – the girl from Ellen as Dory was endlessly loveable, Geoffrey Rush and Dame Edna’s against-type roles hilarious and Willem DaFoe spot-on. At the forefront, though, as ever with Pixar, were charm, humour and simple but uplifting emotions.’ - Oct 16, 2003.

Those were my impressions upon seeing Nemo at the cinema, a surprisingly long time ago. Please forgive the naivety of 'The girl from Ellen'!

It has endured as one of the best of Pixar’s films – pretty high praise – and won the Oscar for best animated film, beating out The Triplets of Belleville. It started a trend for buying tropical fish, which was a little tragic for animal lovers because far fewer people than wanted to look after clownfish were very capable of looking after clownfish.

But Finding Nemo is iconic. It’s a simple idea, but all of Pixar’s best tend to be just that. Talking fish are nothing new, but the way their world looks here, and the inspired choices of species that will now forever be associated with the personality quirks they have here, this will most likely forever be the definitive underwater animated film.