Pixar's MONSTERS INC. has the distinction of the being one the nominees of the newly-minted 2001 Academy Award for Best Animated Feature (it lost to the first SHREK) recognizing, of course, that with the aid of CGI, there would be a torrent of bit/byte-based things, some of them potentially worth seeing. Certainly this one is; most Pixar films have been top-class. Of course, I'm in CARS 2 denial here, and it may not be long before we get MONSTERS INC. 2 with a similar prefab 007-spoof international-espionage plot tacked on (if found please return to Fred Flintstone).
But for now MONSTERS INC.
is a keeper, an entertaining, if overcalculated, whimsy about a world
of cuddly monsters busily abiding somewhere out there, where a mighty
corporation has made a science out of creatures popping out of
bedroom-closet doors and spooking small children for a living. Despite
the fear factor the milieu is always a cheerfully bright and
pastel-colored palette that seems to be the Pixar signature (or is their
PC operating system?). The monsters are grotesquely playful and
toy-chest cuddly, a cross between Big Daddy Roth drag racers and Gahan
Wilson (maybe with a little H. P. Lovecraft in there). And even though
they perfume themselves with stench and dine at a restaurant named
Harryhausen's, they're never sufficiently frightening to overturn the
MPAA's G-rating. This may be the least threatening screen depiction in
memory about the nature of terror.
The
top "scarer" is Sullivan, a bearlike plush-toy biped (voiced by John
Goodman), with a wisecracking ambulatory eyeball (voiced by Billy
Crystal) for a best friend. Togeher they work at Monsters Inc., a
Seussian factory in which children's closet doors from all over the
Earth are systematically maintained, entered and exited by monsters to
keep the scares flowing. Although monster society exploits children, the
worst thing that could happen would be for a kid to actually touch a
monster, or enter the monster realm. Thanks to runaway ambitions of
Randall (voiced by Steve Buscemi), a chameleonlike rival trying to
upstage Sullivan, this very thing happens.
Sullivan
finds himself the unwilling caretraker of a little girl he dubs Boo,
and the monster must protect the tyke from the decontamination
stormtroopers of the Child Detection Agency and the attention of the
scuttling, crablike company CEO (voiced by James Coburn, sounding a bit
like James Earl Jones). One of the movie's true strokes of genius is
making Boo pre-verbal and letting the monsters do all the talking. As
with the TOY STORY pictures, there are moments when the digital
caricatures become just as real and touching as flesh-and-blood actors.
Here that's Sullivan's epiphany of the true consequences of his scaring
behavior - although how he repents and reforms monster society is a bit
of a deux ex monsterina telegraphed long in advance.
The
pace is brisk and the audio cast impeccable, with a script that almost
never talks down to the grownups in the audience and tweaks baby-boomer
memories with a guest appearance by a yeti who's a dead ringer for the
Abominable Snowman the Rankin-Bass stop-motion animators foisted with
the perennial "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" Christmas special. And,
yes, speaking of memories, there is a strong resemblance to LITTLE MONSTERS, a critically disliked, makeup-laden live-action Howie Mandel vehicle from 1988, which was kind of a BEETLEJUICE
takeoff, about the kingdom of tot-tormenting boogeymen that abides
under kids' beds. Odd that nobody remembers that one - or did the
stormtroopers of Pixar parent company Disney quietly eradicate all
traces of it and potential lawsuits? Just to prevent the Cleveland Movie
Blog’s destruction at the hands of Magic Kingdom lawyers, I’m pasting in the FRENCH poster of MONSTERS INC. as an illustration, Mr. Ignizio; maybe the Buena Vista attorneys will think we’re still talking about existentialist Cinematheque art films.
Considering
where big business has led us, “Monsters Inc.” would be a nice
rebranding for Wall Street, now that I mention it. Meanwhile the movie
itself remains a charming and agreeable field of screams. (3 and a half
out of 4 stars)
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